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professorspork · 1 month ago

Note

I hope this doesn't come off as an invasive question, I'm just curious how you came up with which fetishes to depict in each chapter of SDAU.

not invasive at all, if only insofar as the short answer is of course a) because i thought it was in-character and b) if I didn't at least find it at least nominally appealing myself i wouldn't have had any interest in writing it now would i so that's a bit of a tell

but short answers are no fun, of course, so let's break it down shall we?

Chapter 1: Thursday

This chapter was always intended to go hot and heavy, both as a genuine Watsonian introduction to Blake's world and as a sort of Doylist vibe-check for readers of "if you can't stomach this you're probably not going to enjoy the rest of this story, you can click the back button no harm no foul." but it's interesting to me that you specified fetishes rather than sex acts, because generally speaking that was a lot clearer to me in the conception of each scene. i knew what i was *going* for, even if I didn't always know from the outset how I would get there. so!

in this instance, I knew the vibe I wanted to nail (har har) was the degradation and humiliation aspect of Sun's kink. partially because I think that that's what canon Blacksun would have to be like-- if Sun didn't get something out of Blake being a dismissive and controlling sardonic shit to him they would never have stayed friends, jfc look at how she TALKS to him (and slaps him, twice!!!)-- but also because I really wanted to explore what that would be like for Blake, who doesn't *share* the kink (and in fact has some trauma around it) but still earnestly desires to indulge it, and gets something out of Sun's satisfaction in it.

I know I can write some Dora-the-Explorer-ass "seatbelts everyone!" sex scenes, but my goal is always verisimilitude that encompasses that-- never to break immersion. (I also find the sort of call-and-response ritual of verbal consent to be deeply erotic when actually portrayed like the act of intimacy it is rather than a chore or a checklist, so there's that.) i think i probably went a little more overboard than i had to in terms of in-prose justifications of the spicier moments, adding mental "because she knows he likes it so much" or "as they'd responsibly negotiated previously" caveats instead of letting things ride, but I also think that I got away with it because this Blake, like all Blakes, is deeply anxious and would feasibly have those self-soothing measures on the brain.

this (and what comes later in Dungeon Master) was also my avenue to explore just how "into character" Blake could get, because she goes full Domme performance here in a way she doesn't-- and in fact can't, constitutionally-- with Yang later on. she'll tease Yang, and isn't shy about being direct or even forceful, but I think she's hypersensitive to sounding *critical*-- due to a combination of a) her cognizance of her own responsibility as a sex partner of a trans woman generally and b) what being in love does to her and makes her feel specifically.

less under the umbrella of "fetish" and more in terms of erotica writ large and the broader goals of the fic, it was also very important to me to write a sex scene featuring (and glorifying in) bottom growth because THERE SHOULD BE MORE OF THEM OUT THERE.

Interstice: Sun

I saw an opportunity to put Blake in cat ears and I took it.

Chapter 2: Dungeon Master

listen, it is not my fault that Emerald Sustrai very obviously has a mommy kink situation that can be seen from space. that is in some ways the MOST obvious example of "I'm just depicting the character as I honestly see them, no agenda" in the whole fic. (well. tied for first place with Yang and the gag, but more on that later.)

the wax play with Russel was just a kind of scene I'd never written before that I thought would be fun and hot (lololol literally), and the come-on scene with Neon and Flynt was always intended to be more about Blake's social standing, experience, and inherent comfort at the club rather than the actual kinks involved.

Emerald, on the other hand, was supposed to be about the sort of... I'm not quite sure how to put it. the perils of unrestrained Id? a cautionary tale? Emerald *doesn't know herself,* that's part of her whole off-screen journey that gets paid off in in the end. she just knows that she Wants, but not what she wants, which makes the fact that she can only get what she wants by asking for it an immense frustration to her. she HATES that. so she tries to skirt by entirely on innuendo and provocation to force other people to make the decisions for her so she can just take whatever is given and deal with it, for good or ill.

and for Blake, that's a nightmare situation because she's basically used a sex club instead of therapy for the last several years of her life precisely because it's SUPPOSED to have these guardrails and people are supposed to know what they're looking for so nothing can cross lines. emerald basically shows her that that's a convenient lie she's been telling herself (one of many). emerald simultaneously shows Blake just how far she's come from where she's started-- which is quite far!!-- but also shows her she's gotten as much out of this particular coping strategy as she's ever gonna get. if Blake wants to grow more or get healthier, she cannot just keep doing what she's been doing. it's been clear to her friends for a while, but this is the moment it becomes clear to her. and if it hadn't already been, she could never have actually accepted it when Neptune says it at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 3: Beacon

no fetishes here. really the headline here is what i very much did NOT want to come off as a fetish, which is the way Blake becomes more attracted to Yang after she clocks her.

threading that needle and exploring that line-- the difference between "you are even more beautiful to me now because I see who you are and the fortitude it took to become that person, and the things I already found attractive before stand out even more to me now, and also Trans Women Are Hot We Don't Have To Make A Thing Of It" versus, like... getting weirdly prescriptive and flirting with straight-up physiognomy and ABSOLUTELY making a thing of it is not always an easy one to strike! honestly bless @alexkablob for being so patient with me because i had her read minutely different versions of that moment over and over and over again so the scene came across the way i intended it to: not being cutesy, not trying to obscure the fact that Blake is attracted to Yang BECAUSE she's trans, rather than in spite of or ignoring it.

i think-- or at least, i'd like to think-- that more cis writers want to be braver about writing trans-inclusive romance but don't for fear of sounding chaser-y. and this scene was always About That, in every way it's possible to be about that, for Blake AND for me

Chapter 4: Dirty Laundry

the fetishes depicted here-- electroplay and vampire roleplay-- don't have any significance unto themselves but instead are meant to be wider examples of Blake's true kink, which is indulging the kinks of others. Blake is GAME, not because she thinks she has to be or because it's an expectation Adam put on her, but because she's down for a challenge and likes to be the reason people get off.

Blake's just, embarrassingly, really into improv. that yes-and instinct gets her into weird sexy situations at the club, and also makes her very fun to play DND with.

Chapter 5: Proper Socialization

this is where we first start to see the signs of Blake's next self-inflicted mental health crisis, which is "i am somehow diminishing Yang by having sexy thoughts about her being submissive because obviously she'd never agree to that" blake. BLAKE what are yoU TALKING ABOUT

YOU COULD TRY. ASKING.

like Blake knows damn well that it's not degrading or insulting to sub, and a lot of this is just her being embarrassed about having lustful thoughts about Yang at all, but there IS that edge there of "if she knew that's how i see the world she'd never forgive me" that is... the self-obsession and fretting is in some ways a fetish, if that makes sense? like Blake's so far down the rabbit hole on this it's a fetish in the most clinical way, it's a fixation.

Prelude (1): Adam | Prelude (2) Adam Blake

... and once I got that far, it was obviously the right time in the story for me to dig the origin of that thought out at the root

this chapter is in many ways the other side of the coin from Thursday. just as it was important to me to show Blake owning her identity as a Domme with Sun, it was equally important for me to show her owning her identity as a sub with Adam. not as his victim, but as her own person. there was never a chance of this relationship being healthy because Adam's a manipulative groomer shitstain, but Blake *could* have had *a* healthy relationship as the submissive partner and truly enjoyed it, if she'd found a worthier person to crush on. that ability to trust and let go-- to surrender-- to submit, in the most basic meaning of the word-- is not something Adam forced upon her, but rather something he took from her. it was hers, and he ruined it.

I've also talked about this a lot in the author's notes and elsewhere, but it was also important to me to show that Blake chose this and wanted him. I think diminishing her agency in the development of their romance is a misread of the character that does a disservice to who she is and what she's overcome. what she has to accept here is not that she missed the signs, but that she SAW the signs and WELCOMED them. his being dangerous, edgy, and forbidden was a major part of the thrill and appeal to her; she'd gotten off on that. which: that's also a reason i could only ever explore this in an AU and not canon, because it's very different to put that on a precocious but ultimately consenting college student than a twelve-year-old but we don't have time to unpack all that

and... maybe it's very obvious to say it, but the other fetish that comes up here (and did previously in Sun's interlude) is just like Blake's fundamental awakening to the possibilities of polyamory and ethical non-monogamy. which isn't a fetish in and of itself, but is the mechanism by which every other fetish gets explored. it's a permission structure that lets Blake live her life in a way that feels natural to her without shame-- or would, if Blake were capable of not feeling shame lmao-- and that's the engine that makes everything else in this fic go.

Chapter 6: Four Questions

No real fetishes present other than Blake's fixation on Yang's bruise, which: see what I said about Proper Socialization.

Chapter 7: Body & Recovery

see above, again, more and harder (heyo). this is the first time Yang literally TELLS Blake "I like when you get toppy and particular" and Blake like... believes her but also decides this can somehow only apply to the most vanilla of instances and couldn't possibly translate into a larger dynamic because that would be Deciding For Yang somehow

also, dry humping is hot. the simulacrum of control vs the obvious and overt loss of control, the way it has an innocence to it despite being (literally, in terms of necessary cleanup) filthy... fun times. we see this come up again several times, the "I like getting messy," and that's just a thing I have about sex scenes generally that I think is deeply important. you have to want the bodily fluids around or why are we doing this.

Chapter 8: Balance

There was no way I was gonna get though a fic like this without a breathplay scene. there couldn't BE a more on-the-nose depiction of Blake's need for control-- but also, to her credit, the way she's thoughtful and responsible with the power she's given. it's a way of showing how her pathological mistrust of herself is unearned. like, people literally put their lives in her hands and homegirl doesn't even notice.

(see also, related: Blake promising Yang "I love when you say no to me" and meaning it like GIRL JUST LISTEN TO YOURSELF)

and going back to the polyamory point, it was important to me structurally to show Blake continuing to have encounters at Anesidora, and to tease out how they don't bother her or seem like cheating to her until she, as she always does, creates a mind prison about it.

Chapter 9: Power

well this one's a fun one for fetishes, eh?

this chapter is the first hint at Blake's fantasies regarding Yang's mirror, which will come up a LOT from here on out. I could (and honestly probably should) write a whole other essay about what I did with mirrors in this fic, and what their presence throughout signifies, but in terms of kink and fantasy I imagine it's pretty damn clear even here at jump: she sees Yang for exactly the woman she is and wants Yang to see it, too.

then we've got the juxtaposition of Yang In Panties and the rimming scene, and like... I don't think I'm being subtle here, you know? Yang is deeply vulnerable about her relationship with her own femininity, her desirability, her acceptability on like a basic level, and Blake... wants to devour her. Blake sees all of it, loves all of it, wants all of it. the things Yang sees as potential dealbreakers because they're shameful or subpar or ~gross, Blake just sees a goddamn sexy dreamboat. which Yang, like a hero, actually REALIZES at the end, while Blake then spirals out like a moron

this is another one where this is also just an act I don't see very often and had never attempted myself, and both were worth remedying.

Chapter 10: The Ropes

and-- see title-- the complete lack of subtlety continues.

Yang literally says this in her POV section in the next chapter, but the collar and leash was also a very deliberate and very linear, obvious choice. Yang WANTS to be bound to Blake, wants to be kept close and to have physical, tangible proof of their intimacy, and she picks the objects that tell Blake so. Collaring scenes are also A Big Deal in D/s stories and putting my (/their) spin on it-- having Blake present it to Yang to do it to herself, to put that agency in her hands-- was important to me. Blake's terrified of taking too much, of being this greedy conqueror, and Yang's trying so hard to say "you can't take what's already yours."

and of course just when Blake finally hears and accepts it, she misses that she's been so up her own ass about HER shit she hasn't at all been paying attention to the rest of Yang's or she'd have picked up the prior signs Yang dropped re: the ways her abandonment issues do and don't manifest

which brings me to the other major thing here, which is Yang's flirtation with cucking and depersonalization fetish and her own relationship to polyamory. Yang does genuinely find the idea of Blake with other people hot. and you can chalk that up to her always sublimating her needs to others, or you could see it as something she inherited FROM her parents rather than developed due to her proximity to their bullshit, or any number of other interpretations. but the way Blake's reveal to Yang goes-- with Yang wanting to be walked through the process of Anesidora and being turned on by it in this slightly-removed proxy way-- was one of the earliest things in my outline for this story. yang is stressed out about it Happening To Her and having to Do It Right in a way she isn't when she can just enjoy the idea of it as a voyeur without having to Perform.

Insterstice: Yang

So. The gag.

I have been on the record for years about my belief in this being a kink Yang would have, and I think I was fairly explicit about it in the fic itself. Yang is desperate to have her Class Clown instinct suppressed. she has gone out of her way to make herself likeable so she will not be abandoned again, and being explicitly shown that she does not need to do or say anything and will still be adored is deeply healing for her. this is why a lot of dommy or toppy takes on Yang leave me cold-- not because of the caretaker aspect, which I think she'd excel in and enjoy, but because it feeds into exactly that same charismatic (yet inherently performative) part of her that like, beats up on Junior and the show is clear FROM THE VERY OPENING TEXT is not truly who she is. it's a front she puts up.

and the thing about the mirror, which gets its first big culmination here, is that there is NO front Yang can put up. all she is faced with is her own actual reality, and the inarguable truth of it. it also plays into the voyeur thing I was talking about before, where there's this sort of pleasure at the idea of seeing Blake work and getting to see it on HERSELF, where she is simultaneously some other girl but also cannot escape the fact of "that girl is me." does that make sense? it's like the two circles finally converge into a venn diagram and then align.

Chapter 11: Play

This being its own chapter didn't exist in my original outlines. it was only when i got to this moment as I was writing linearly that I realized the audience both needed and deserved a chance to bask in the new normal before i started wrapping things up

actually rewarding everything I'd set up in terms of how they would approach Anesidora *together* seemed the obvious thing, and then going a few steps further to take it to the shibari and chastity cage place, well

*polite cough*

i have it on some authority that there is a hunger for that among my target audience

but seriously, it's all just more of what i've said. yang's desires revolve around being tethered and contained because she's had a lifetime of being gregarious and on her own. but she's also intrepid and COMPETITIVE, so blake making up rules she can WIN at stokes that fire in her to explore the unknown and also make it her bitch

and blake sees all of that, and wants desperately to indulge it

Chapter 12: Home

not really sure if the shower scene here rises to "fetish" level but to touch on it briefly

--or NOT touch, as is sort of what happens here--

i... hmm. i think in a way this is sort of my thesis statement about where blake's coming from with domination. which isn't touching, or being serviced, but is literally just talking Yang off and guiding her to her own pleasure.

Blake wants to be RESPONSIBLE for that, likes knowing she's a force for good, and the control she exerts is about learning to trust herself just as much as it is thriving at the evidence that her partners trust HER

blake obviously enjoys sex tremendously, but that's not what makes it erotic for her. her own pleasure is really the smallest part of it....

Epilogue: Surrender

... which sort of brings us full circle, to Blake's inevitable realization that her pleasure DOES matter and her desires CAN be identified and sated. even despite all she's been through; even if those desires don't seem coherent or consistent to her

the what of this, the improvised rock climbing bondage, was the very last thing to come together for this story. i knew i wanted Blake to experience full body restraint in an unconventional way, but I didn't have a solid plan on how to achieve it. which, because you asked about the fetish and not the act, I suppose is really entirely incidental

and like, as far as How I Chose To Decide Blake Wants To Be Tied Up, that did not feel like a choice at all. the excessive ribbon wrapping up the arms of her beacon-era outfit made that call for me. gambol shroud's existence AT ALL made that decision for me. Blake getting captured by Yuma and Trifa, Blake getting caught in the vines in the Ever After... you'll have to ask CRWBY about this one, not me, because that's just literally lifted wholesale from the show as Blake's obvious and inevitable Thing lmao

... and apparently this post is 3.5k so you know what i'm gonna cut it off there

THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS WAS FUN

#sdau #blake and yang #rwby #fic what i wrote

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poorlemons · 23 days ago

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your clear image au inspired me to make my own transfem michael shelley in a roleplay universe. she goes by shelley and she secretly has the rage of a thousand suns

yesss!!! im glad my trans michael agenda is spreading. this makes me so happy to hear

#neil moment #trans rage <333

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aliorsboxostuff · 2 years ago

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ok so imagine ftm reader x joel in the apocalypse. because i just know being trans in an apocalypse is NOT fun. you can make the prompt however specific as you want but i just thought that would be such a cool and interesting idea for a fic. :)

A/N: GOD ANON SUCH A GOOD IDEA yk i'm gonna put a bit of my own experience as a trans man (that went through 7 hrs of a con w binders on… *shivers*). As always, please excuse the mistakes as english is my 2nd language and enjoy Anon!

Join You.

Tags: HBO Joel Miller x ftm!Reader, Reader uses He/Him pronouns, Trans and in an apocalypse? Can't get any worse, oh wait yes it can, Binding struggles, fluff, meet-cute(?), Do you count meeting a dad and his kid cute?, maybe, It’s Joel and Ellie of course they’re cute, meeting, humor, Snarky!Ellie, tired-dad!Joel, soft ending, no angst, maybe a bit, it is EP.3 after all, slight OOC

[Starts from the end of Ep.3 of The Last of Us] Meeting a stone-cold man and his curious stray kid wasn't really on your apocalypse agenda, neither was falling in love with him. But then again, when has life ever gone your way? Hell, even god fucked up from when you were born, mixed up the damn gender. So here you are, helping him and his kid ready themselves to head to Wyoming, while you hitch a ride. Maybe it’ll do you some good, finally finding company with another human being

—

God why was it so hot?

While you keep hauling what remains of your backpack through the path, the sun beats down on you. Despite pulling off your hoodie, now left in only a shirt, the heat threatens to boil you whole. The sides of your binder digs in slightly and it makes moving another endeavor. The two bottles of water inside your bag are quickly diminishing with every break you take, now only half of one bottle remains.

You groan, eyes becoming hazy with every blink, when suddenly, you spot a chain-linked fence meters in front of you. A shot of energy courses through you as hope rises, quickly jogging to the area while you wave your hands, but trying not to make a sound in case any infected comes running by.

You stopped just shy of the chain link, glancing at the high-voltage sign. You've been electrocuted once, you're not about to get electrocuted twice. You opted to look around instead, glancing at the various put-together houses, and the church in the far corner of the neighborhood. Despite the leaves littering the streets, flowers bloomed encircling the town's middle. You turn your head to find a way in, maybe a chance for you to vault over without getting burned, or maybe dig underneath-

"Turn around."

You freeze. The hairs on your nape start to rise, heart rate following suit as a bead of sweat drops. "Turn around, and drop your bag. Slowly."

You gulp, carefully moving one foot and the other until you fully turn, now face to face with a gun trained at your head, behind it, a man with eyes sharp enough to cut through skin is ready to pull the trigger at sight. Your eyes cautiously glance at the girl behind him, the same vicious stare with a sharp knife in her hand.

As instructed, you slip your backpack and hear it hit the ground, before the man tilts his head, indicating for you to kick it away, and so you did.

"Drop your weapons,"

"I don't have a gun," Your voice wavers, hands shaking slightly as it hovers beside you, a surrender you’re hopeful the man will take. He doesn't.

"Drop anything other than a gun, then," He leaves no room for negotiations. You blink, before taking out the pocket knife and knuckle dusters from your pocket, throwing them to his direction. The guy raises his brow at the items and you shrug, still hesitant despite trying to appear nonchalant.

With the gun still aimed at you, he picks both of the weapons up, storing them, before he stands again. "What's in the bag?"

"Some… Canned food, water bottles, a lighter, other stuff,"

"How did you find this place?"

"I just…" Now that, you wondered yourself. You remembered leaving your group when a sketchy religious guy showed up and everyone started preaching to him, going nowhere in particular, just out of the growing conservative group and somewhere safe. Wandering for weeks before stumbling here, thinking you finally found another group willing to accept your scrappy ass. "I don't know, I don't even know this place existed, I was wandering around then came across…" You tilted your head back to the fence.

A pause. The man then speaks in a hushed tone with the girl, before they both nodded, the girl evidently less cautious after the whispers. "Empty your bag."

You did as so, slowly reaching for the pack and unlatching the top, turning it upside down and letting the contents drop. Bottles, food, plasters, your lighter, a torch, other knick-knacks you couldn't resist picking up, all falling to the ground. When a flutter of paper falls, the girl perks slightly, before she retreats when you noticed. "I-I'm alone-"

"How do we know you're alone?"

Your eyes looked around before you shrug. "I… Got separated from my group. A weird guy joined us and separated some people, and he uh… Kicked me out. Im alone, I promise, I don't have anyone following me from my group or from… Anywhere,"

Another pause. He seems to turn the info around his mind, before he looks back at the girl, she only does the same.

"Alright." He nods, eyeing the clutter on the ground. "Walk, slowly, away from the fence."

Taking steps away from the chain until your position and the man change, you stand far from the fence while he and the girl stands just a meter away. He nods to the girl and she nods back. Now, her dark eyes are focused on you, while the man unlocks the gate to the place.

"What's with the book?" She jerks to the opened pages on the ground.

"Just a journal. Keeps the mind sane," She hums, then you hear a click of the fence being opened. The man ushers the girl in, before he looks back at you, standing defenseless outside just meters away, disheveled and wary. He huffs.

"Get in here, quick,"

Your face beams. "Thank you, so much," You breathe before picking up your bag and contents, then jogging inside and the man locks the gate again.

The neighborhood looks as if lived in, despite the run-down houses except one that stands grand and white a couple of streets down. "You two live here?"

"No, someone we know does," The girl answers. The man begins walking to the house, the girl following loosely behind him, before she turns.

She still has a hint of caution in her eyes, yet she asks, "What's your name? I'm Ellie, that's Joel,"

"Pleasure meeting you Ellie, Joel," Ellie grins, Joel doesn't turn. You give her your name, at which she smiles before looking past you.

"Do you write often?"

"Just for fun, nowhere to publish it anyways,"

She nods. "What do you write about?"

"Stuff I see, birds, leafs, interesting flowers I pass by," You begin walking towards the house as well, following them. "I have pressed dried flowers in there,"

"Pressed dried? Like you have dead flowers in your journal?"

"Sure," You grin as she chuckles, turning around when Joel opens the house's gates and motions for Ellie to stop, so you do too.

"I'm checking inside first. You-" His eyes meets yours, you gulp. "Stay here, look out for any infected,"

"In here? This is basically a fortress,"

"Once I'm done, then I'll call you," You only nod, afraid to aggravate Joel even further. You'd hate to appear annoying to a man that offered you safety.

Minutes pass, you idle outside, taking in the scenery. There are flowers in fitted pots, already dry and dying. The fence that surrounds the house Joel and Ellie still looks put together, the paint scraping would indicate age but otherwise looks fine. There's a brown garage door off the side. You wonder if it stored any vehicles.

Suddenly, Joel storms outside, making you jump. His otherwise stoic face has a sheen layer of pain, of apprehension, before you spotted a piece of paper in his hand. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, before he turns and crumples the paper. You stand to the side, nearing the gates, while Joel takes his time gathering himself. The urge to ask, to comfort, almost overwhelms you before he speaks. "Help me check the car,"

A key dangles in his hand, and you follow suit. He opens the garage door, and you move to the back of what looks like a covered car. Sure enough, once you and Joel pull the cover up, a blue pick-up comes into view. "Nice," you smooth your hand on the rear door. Then suddenly, a sharp bang from the front, Joel closes the engine harder than needed. You gulp.

Contemplation appears on Joel's face again. You didn't dare to move. His eyes search the room, until it lands on something out of your view, on top of a refrigerator. His eyes track down, then he stalks to said fridge and opens it. Seems like he finds what he was looking for and Joel closes it back.

“You can't come with us.”

“What?” It sounded small, way too small to your liking, until you realized it was your voice.

“We’re going to Wyoming, either way there’s no space for-”

“Please, Joel,” You find yourself leaning towards him, your knuckles white on the trunk of the car. “I don't- I have nowhere to go,” Joel opens his mouth to interject before you continue; “And I'm not asking to join you, and Ellie. I just…” You inhale sharply.

“Please let me go with you two, to Wyoming. Then just leave me there.” You blink the growing panic back down. “Just a ride. Then I'll be off your backs. I promise,”

The man standing meters away from you, hand still firmly on the edge of the fridge, eyes dark and stone cold, ponders over your words. You can practically feel the consideration, the slight glance from him when he meets your eyes, before he turns to the door, then back to you. “Just a ride,”

“Just a ride. You have my word.”

Then, painstakingly slow, he nods then walks to exit the garage, making you exhale a relief breath. "Check the fuel, I'll go check on Ellie,"

You simply nodded as he exited the garage. You go and check the fuel from the meter inside the car first, then find it empty. For safety reasons, you think. So you check around the garage for any fuel canisters. You found a couple behind some boxes, so you pulled them out to ready them when Joel needs it.

You deem it enough snooping around so you return to the house, just in time to hear Ellie ask, "So what now?"

You knock on the door lightly, to alert the two, and Ellie glances at you. You two share a look at Joel, before he huffs. “We grab what we can,”

He passes you, taking note of your curiosity, before he goes through the house with you and Ellie in tow. He goes through a couple of rooms, before he pulls at a hatch and it gives in, a staircase leading to what you presume was a basement.

Upon entering, the room is lit up with working LEDs. You and Ellie spotted the wall of guns first, you blowing a low whistle. “Ho-ly shit.” Ellie’s eyes were on the many firearms mounted neatly.

“This guy’s a genius,” She grins and looks around. Your hand reaches for a mounted shock gun, almost touching it, before you retreat when you hear Joel messing with the other things in the room. You noted a steady hum of music, something you could recognize but not pinpoint. Ellie turns to walk over to where Joel was looking at the monitors.

“Why was the music on?”

“If he didn't reset the countdown every few weeks,” His eyes went over something. “This playlist would run over the radios,”

“‘80s…” The two share a look of realization, you can visibly see Joel gulp.

“Grab some cans from over there,” Joel points behind him. “Nothin’ dented, or swollen,” He mainly points it out to Ellie as she moves, but his eyes linger on you so you also get moving.

“Dude,”

“No.” You turn around to spot Ellie standing near the wall of firearms.

“There’s a wall of them,” And she’d be right, but Joel only fixed her a stare that made her nod in defeat, almost making you giggle. Joel goes back to the monitors while you and Ellie search through the cans.

You’ve emptied most of the top shelves, leaving the clearly dented ones, while Ellie picked apart the bottom half, looking at each label with fascination. Once you’ve got your pack full, you crouch near her when she looks at one with interest.

“‘Chef Boyardee’,” You smile as she turns to you. “They got great taste,”

“Is this what you all eat?” She asks both you and Joel as she turns to face him. “Like, before the infection thing,”

“Well, most foods weren't in cans, if that's what you’re asking,” You absentmindedly pick at one of the cans' labels, already peeling. “Big shops, grocery stores, would sell raw stuff so you can cook them,”

“Cook anything?” Her eyes gleam, making you huff out a chuckle.

“Sure, as long as there's a recipe, I for one can't cook for shit,” She chuckles, before putting the can into her bag. As you and Ellie make your way upstairs, you pass Joel whose eyes soften as you let Ellie climb up first.

Ellie found a bag and she scurries off to shove toilet paper in it. You made your way into the bathroom to find the medicine cabinet fully stocked. “Fuck yeah,”

You grab all that your arms can fit and run back to where Ellie was emptying the storage room. Setting all the medicine and emergency kit into the bag, you head back to look under the sink of the bathroom to find a couple of tampons and pads. Another victory. As you reach your hand into the cabinet, a roll of body tape falls out. Checking back to hear Ellie's busy with her work, you stuff the tape into your pocket and head out with the packs of pads and tampons.

Ellie looks up from where she’s hunched inside the storage area. “Hell yeah,” She nods as you stuff the packs into the bag.

Joel emerges from the bunker and heads upstairs just as you and Ellie finish filling up the bag. Ellie follows Joel and so do you, still contemplating what the girl is to Joel or who Joel is to Ellie. Though you shrug it off when Joel opens a door into a worn room, decorations vary on the walls but he beelines into, what you presume, is a closet. He opens it and looks around, clicking a light on, before he settles on a box and pulls it out, setting it on the bed.

The box is labeled ‘Women's shirt, SM-MED’ so Ellie looks through it. She pulls out a red shirt that she fits over her front to make sure, before she glances at you. You only nod in approval, giving her a thumbs up, making her grin and set the article aside.

Joel emerges with a box labeled ‘Long Sleeve Shirts’ and goes back in. You stood opposite of Ellie between the bed, hesitant to touch the box, before Ellie took it first and opened it. She notices your hovering hand and falters on the flaps. “Oh, you wanna take this one?”

“Those won't fit him,” Joel barks from inside the closet, almost making you jump. But instead, his tone is like poking fun at you, so you roll your eyes, huffing.

“Haha, real funny man,” Your hand reaches back for the box Ellie was opening, before another box abruptly drops next to your hand, affectionately labeled ‘Mens shirt, SM-MED’.

“This could,” His eyes met yours before he ducks back into the closet.

You stand, almost in shock, elevated from both relief and happiness as it blooms inside you. The box is still closed, sitting just far from you, and the label almost makes your eyes gloss. You swallow a heavy lump, before you notice Ellie's fleeting glance from you to the box, then back to you. “Go ahead dude, those would be way too big for me,” She shrugs.

And so you went through the box and picked out the articles you deemed good enough to fit your form.

After sorting through the box of clothes, the three of you make your way into the garage. You stand near the door in order to not step in Joel's way while Ellie pokes around, but if you were being honest with yourself, you just wanted to admire the dynamic between Ellie and Joel. Joel has found an all-purpose charger, hooking it up to the car battery. After a minute, the charger begins to work as he surveys it. “Needs another hour,”

“They have hot water!” Ellie cheers as she turns on a faucet from the other end of the room. “I’m takin’ a shower,” She declares as she begins to make her way to where you're standing.

“Then you’re showering, cuz’ seriously,” She huffs, making a disgruntled face at Joel, which made you chuckle. Joel only deadpans as she moves past you. “You too!” She hauls back as she absentmindedly points in your direction.

That made both of your eyebrows shoot up, sputtering for an answer. Your eyes briefly meet Joels, a slight smirk tugging on his lips, before you yourself huffed out a laugh. “I should…” You falter, unable to think of an excuse, before jogging to join Ellie in the house.

Ellie finished her shower quickly, clad in the red shirt she picked and the long sleeves she must've taken out of the box. When she exits the room to find you waiting in the hallway, your pile of clothes a bit taller than her, and arches a brow. “A lot of layers,”

“I get cold easily,” You shrug, making her nod and promptly go downstairs.

After making sure the door locks, you start to discard your tattered clothes, pulling out your hoodie to also discard it, sticky with grime and dirt. You carefully set your binder on the sink and finally relish the feeling of steady water beating down your body.

Once you’re dry with a towel hanging on your hips, you take out the body tape and fasten a makeshift binder, not too tight to avoid any mishaps. Your dirty binder has been washed under the faucet, so it's now wrung dry enough to be in a plastic bag and shoved into your pack. You put your hair in a towel wrap while you put on deodorant, then the clothes you picked out, zipping up the pants and fastening a belt around it. Pulling on the top, then a t-shirt over it, before a jacket to top it off. You pull off the towel from your hair, leaving it damp enough for it to dry in the wind.

As you walk to the door, a mirror stands just next to it. You spot your reflection, no longer with streaks of dried blood and dirt, hair array from days without proper cleaning. A man with deep eye bags but an otherwise put-together demeanor stares back. You smile, arranging your drying hair a bit, before exiting the room.

You meet Ellie downstairs, looking around and touching the various items scattered about the still-warm house. You make your way to the dining table, and the unfinished food on the table makes a gnawing feeling in your gut appear. Not the rotting stench, but something significant happened here, if you could judge the wine glasses sat neatly next to each other, now supporting dust instead of its usual amber contents. You swallow down the feeling of what has happened and instead take a seat in the vacant area of the table, pointedly away from the rotting food. As Ellie paces around, you take out your book, flipping through the pages of various notes and entries you’ve written.

You pick out one dried lily you pressed months ago. “See? Dead flowers,” Ellie turns to you, before she spots the flower you’re holding and chuckles.

“There's a lot out front y’know,” She adds. You hum and nod, before returning back to your pages.

Joel enters the house just as you turn a page. You smile, nodding to the stairs behind the dividing wall. “Showers all yours,” You said. He assesses you, taking a second too long which makes you break eye contact, our eyes back to your book, a steady heat growing on your face. Then he glances at Ellie before he nods and heads to the stairs. Ellie gives you a look once, twice, before she smirks and continues her poking.

A couple of minutes passes, before you hear a sequence of steps, a muffled ‘oh shit’ maybe coming from Ellie, then you pick your head up from the deep pages and find Ellie standing in front of Joel, combed back curls, highlighting his steadily graying edges, beard shaved neatly, a fitting plaid t-shirt and dark jeans are what he picked from the box, it seems. “Well, don't you look pretty,”

“I agree,” Ellie joins before you can explode from the embarrassing compliment you sputter out.

“Shut up,” Joel answers, throwing the deodorant you wore earlier into Ellie’s hands. You don't miss the tint of red on Joel's ears, highlighted by the sun coming from the front door.

“Nice,” She begins to put it on, before you gape.

“Wait, you didn't put it on?”

“What, I didn't see it!” She retorts, putting the cap back on.

“Ellie, ew,” The girl throws the deodorant at you, which you caught easily, both of you giggling.

“Come on you two,” Joel huffs from the door. Ellie quickly puts her pack on as you put your book inside yours, securing it on your back.

You help Joel with the gear on the pick-ups tub, making sure it’s secured and putting the water-proof tarp over it. Joel and Ellie get in the car as you open the garage door, then slide in yourself into the back seat. Ellie’s eyes practically shine as she prods at the car's dashboard, pulling down the vanity mirror, then messing with the rearview before she pushes it, promptly displaying you in the backseat and Joel next to her.

“It’s your first time in a car?” He stares at the curious girl.

“It’s like a spaceship,” She answers, still in a trance as she prods at the AC flap.

“No, it's like a piece of shit Chevy S10,” Joel’s answer makes you chuckle from the back seat, rearranging your pack. “But it’ll get us there, I think.”

“Seatbelt,” Ellie turns to Joel, a slight confusion in her eyes, before Joel sighs and pulls the belt over her then hands the rest to Ellie. “Seatbelt.”

She grins, then clicks the seatbelt in place. “So cool,”

You grin from where you’re sat, Joel spotting you from the rearview mirror, your eyes meet briefly which makes you duck your head, settle into the seat and promptly look out the window. Joel starts the car and it hums to life, you can feel the engine purring from the recharged battery and fuel.

Ellie fumbles and opens the compartment under her, pulling out a cassette tape. Joel notices the girl grinning from what she found. “Would ya leave it,”

“Put it back. Ellie,” Joel's exasperated tone only spurs Ellie more as she slides it into the radio, already pressing play. Your grin matches Ellie's as a melody begins to fill the car, eyes on the various houses you pass. Ellie clearly doesn't recognize the song, her hand reaching for the stop or skip button, before Joel perks up.

“No, no, leave it. This is good,” He says, turning the car to where the gate is meters away. “This is Linda Ronstadt, y’know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

“You know I don't know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Her deadpan expression makes you chuckle, leaning into the comfy seat as you settle into the song. Joel, as if looking for support, spots you from the rearview and arches a brow. You only shrug with a smile on your lips, nodding.

“Oh man,” Joel glances at the radio, the gate already in front of the car.

“Eh, it's better than nothing,” Ellie smiles, glancing out to the glowing fields, the evening sun already basking its shine on the earth. You sigh, entranced by the singer's voice, clearly to Joel's liking. He pushes the code for the gate and it opens. He puts the remote back, and advances forward, into the road in front.

—

It's been months since your first meeting with Joel and Ellie.

Now, settled into Jacksons easy living commune, you live just next door to Joels and Ellies.

You remembered when they both left some weeks ago, something about looking for a lab, but you didn't catch why. You remembered the way Ellie clung to you as they were getting ready to leave. She's grown fond of you, sharing the same humor and references, even if you’re still years older than her. So when her hands shook as it digs into your jacket, you pull her closer as well, letting her bury her head into the crook of your neck. Then you pressed a kiss on her forehead, mumbled ‘Stay safe,’ before she let go then headed to her horse. Then there was Joel.

Joel, who you were once scared of. Who you helped with gathering wood for the fire. Who you shared breakfast with the morning after leaving those houses. Who you caught smirking at Ellie's joke. Who you ran with when Wyoming went to shit. Who let you stay with him and Ellie without you asking, moving through that insane city until you found the brothers. Who you watched bury them when Sam turned. Who was the gracious ticket that let you into Jacksons.

Whom you’ve grown feelings for.

When he was about to leave, you were hesitant to touch him. Anything beyond a helping hand on his arm or shoulder was a breach, so you’ve always kept your hand to yourself. That's what you thought until Joel pulls you into him, almost pushing all of the oxygen out of you. You returned the embrace with equal strength, blinking away the worry gathering in your eyes. It lasted long enough before he pulled back and joined Ellie on the horse. The massive gates opened just slightly, before the two exits, unknown to you how long they’ll leave. Or if they’ll even come back.

But they did, with the two closer than ever.

Now, the three of you simply live in Jacksons. A shout away from each other. Sometimes Ellie would come by, unannounced of course, and hang on your couch while you do chores. Sometimes she’ll look around your collection of books that you salvaged from each import of stuff every month. She’ll find something that interests her and borrow it, bringing it back to her house. On the rare chance that you cook, she’ll stay to eat, asking if you made the food yourself or if it came from a recipe. You'd bat at her arm, saying ‘Of course it’s from a recipe Ellie, y’know I’ll burn the house down.’ And she'll laugh.

Sometimes she brings Joel over. He stays for coffee while Ellie is busy with something. Sometimes you two talk, about something or nothing. About the on-goings of Jacksons. About your shift at the community school and theater. About his shifts on patrols and fixing up old buildings for repurposes. Sometimes just to sit and drink, basking in the pure joy of watching Ellie scuttle around, finding things of interest, and asking you questions about your latest project. Those times are when he’ll shuffle closer, hesitant near your lax stance as you laugh at what Ellie said. He’ll put his cup down and carefully, oh so slowly, brush his hands against yours, and you’ll blink, red steadily growing up your neck. You smile then, relaxing your hand, letting Joel set the pace. Then finally, in the privacy of your house, between Joel and you, he laces his fingers with yours, the warmth of his hands burns yours. But you endure, even welcoming his slightly shaking hold, and you’ll squeeze tight. You turn your head to meet Joel's dark browns, the creases on the side of his eyes dent slightly as he smiles, and you smile too, dropping your head to his broad shoulder.

Then Ellie would look at your entwined hands and scoff. “That's so gay,”

Joel would immediately cross his arms while he retorts that she is also gay, and Ellie would quip back another snarky response. You’d laugh, holding your middle and trying not to stumble from where you stand.

Requests are open

#joel miller x male reader #joel miller x ftm reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller hbo #joel miller x reader #hbo joel miller #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #lio writes #joel miller x trans!reader

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justinspoliticalcorner · 3 months ago

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Violet Miller at Chicago Sun-Times:

In the wake of President-elect Donald Trump’s reelection, advocates for transgender people in Illinois are scrambling to strengthen the state protections they’ve created, while some trans Midwesterners consider moving to states with shield laws for safe harbor. State Rep. Kelly Cassidy told the Sun-Times there has been a coalition effort of state lawmakers to protect trans and reproductive health care access since the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade leaked in 2022. Now, they’re looking closely at Project 2025 — a conservative policy playbook created by the Heritage Foundation — and Trump policy proposals and “evaluating what further protections we can enact in the coming months,” a spokesperson for Gov. JB Pritzker said. One gap the coalition identified is medical data privacy and the use of geolocators to track people who visit health care facilities, which Cassidy said she’s confident will be fixed before the fall legislative session ends. “There’s a hole in that [legislative] shield, and that’s data privacy, so that’s the top priority,” Cassidy said.

Protections for reproductive rights and gender-affirming care were enshrined in state law in January 2023, putting Illinois on the side of people who risk prosecution by traveling to the state for treatment and also protecting the licenses of Illinois doctors who provide care that’s illegal elsewhere. The Illinois Human Rights Act also protects against discrimination based on gender identity. In July, the Legislature gave Illinois judges the tools to help people change their names and gender markers on out-of-state documents. But many of the threats made by Agenda47, the Trump campaign’s outline for the next four years, and Project 2025 would undermine these by circumventing existing protections.

“If a national ban [on gender-affirming care] passed, that’s our worst-case scenario,” Cassidy told the Sun-Times on Friday. “None of our laws will matter.” The documents outline plans to end civil rights protections for LGBTQ+ people, remove doctors who provide gender-affirming care from Medicare and Medicaid coverage, and withhold funds from schools that protect the rights of trans students, among other things.

[...] Fourteen states and Washington, D.C., have shield laws for gender-affirming care, though Minnesota and Illinois are the sole havens for displaced trans people in the Midwest.

With Donald Trump's victory and the toxic Project 2025 and Agenda 47 looming, Illinois is seeking to further strengthen protections for trans people, and that trans people residing in anti-trans states such as Missouri and Indiana are seeking safe harbor from attacks on their identity and expression by moving to Illinois.

#Illinois #Transgender Safe Refuge #Transgender Rights #Transgender #J.B. Pritzker #Kelly Cassidy #Illinois Politics #Agenda 47 #Project 2025 #LGBTQ+#Gender Affirming Healthcare #Shield Laws

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antidotefortheawkward-art · 2 years ago

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And now that the Trans Sun Wukong agenda has made the rounds, here's the lineart from my mock JTTW storybook page with and without all the faux scanned old book effects on it! Very happy with how the lineart turned out and I'm very happy with the editing since I think the lineart looks much more recognizably my art without all of it.

[ID: An illustration done in the general style of twentieth century Chinese storybooks. The panel depicts Sun Wukong holding his staff and pointing angrily at Zhu Bajie, who is shielding a disguised White Bone Spirit with his arm. Behind Sun Wukong is a stone with the character 坤 inscribed on it. The caption below the panel reads "八戒像自己被委屈了道: “师兄，你��不懂呀。这个脆弱的小姑娘有怎么可能伤害我们的师父?" 悟空就气得回答："俺老孙不也是坤生的吗！有什么可不懂？你这样说这女妖就是看不起她罢了!" End ID]

#my art #journey to the west #jttw #xiyouji #sun wukong #monkey king #zhu bajie #white bone spirit #style imitation

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marichild · 3 months ago

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heyheyhey 3 and 4 for the fic ask game ?

*slides in* *puts on peace sign* HELLO TO THE BEST AKU STAN EVER <3

3. Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How fat along are you with them?

QUITE A FEW ACTUALLY! since you're my bsd moot I shall give you a small list of the ones I'm focused on posting at least by January <3

ALREADY BASKING IN THE SUN — kunikidazai canon, slice of life vibes, pining & fluff. teen and up. currently the first scene is written and I hope to have it out next week!

[redacted]

WHERE MY PULSE BEATS — soukoku college/high school au, band member!chuuya, soloist!dazai, whatever you can use to describe pre-dark era soukoku to lovers, explicit, I am still plotting this out very randomly

UNTITLED — soukoku canon relationship fix-it, missing scenes vibes, post-dead apple & post-cannibalism arc, explicit. still writing out random scenes to see how well it all fits together

UNTITLED — fyozai, vague college au, straight up just discussions of suicide. ghost!fyodor. mature. making notes for it and reading fyozai fic (giggles my fav bsd ship ever) to properly cement characterization!!

4. Tell me about one of your abandoned WIPs. Why did you abandon it?

AHDHHSHD I'LL COPY PASTE MY REPLY TO THE OTHER ASK!!

hoo boy. so, there was a sort of ambitious au I tried to write once—have you heard of twin star exorcists? I'm an anime enthusiast of it since I got pretty frustrated with where the manga was going what with the constant delays and derailing from the main point and the author not staying consistent with details, etc. that being said the anime doesn't fill a lot of gaps that should have been filled.

so while I was still pretty active in the kpop circles—which I probably will go back to soon lol when I feel less icky about the people I was beefing with—I tried to write a TSE au. while it wasn't my brightest idea to transpose a bunch of Koreans onto a Japanese setting, I also underestimated how difficult it'd be to handle all those canon details.

plus, exorcism is very heavily based on Buddhism, specifically in Japan, so I was just like. well am I prepared to potentially insult an entire faith. (research goes a long way kids! don't listen to younger mari) and I just sort of...let it falter and it doesn't even exist in my wip folder anymore </3

(it also involves a forced arranged marriage and the topic of being forced to have a kid, essentially, and I didn't want to genderbend anyone for it, so my solution was a trans man who was at least somewhat interested in having kids biologically one day, like me. once again, I didn't feel I did a very good job of it, and it was a little daunting to write it knowing that i did want at least a semi explicit scene that, once again, reflected me as a person. being a minor at the time, I let the idea go. and I was also much less confrontational at the time so I didn't think I could handle it if anyone was being weird about it lmao—which I fully can and will at this point.

that being said, I did write a fic about a trans man having a kid for a different fandom earlier this year, so I'm linking it if you're interested! very fluffy and family fun. and not explicit. though be warned, it is rpf lol)

HOWEVER!! I've actually considered picking it up again and rebranding as a soukoku au? once again, enemies to lovers, my transchuu agenda, my dazai can be any gender agenda, EXORCIST PRODIGIES, one of the characters has no idea where they came from and has a whole Bit about questioning their humanity. i.e. arahabaki parallels. there are a few gaps I'm trying to work out but it's definitely an idea haha)

fic ask game

#AAAA TYSM FOR ASKING!!! GIGGLES #i have so much fun with these kinds of things #fic ask game #fic writing #ao3 #mari rambles #ginderfluid #fic asks

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caffeineandsociety · 6 months ago

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I feel like there's a significant subset of the world - both queerphobic and pro-queer - that sees Queer Rights, i.e., the slogan, not the concept, as centering on the intersection of Penis + Femininity.

When it's queerphobes sticking to this image, that's when we get culture war bullshit that's shining a constant burning midnight sun spotlight on transfems and queer men and drag queens and intersex people with any inclination toward femininity. This is the most visible impact to your average "I don't do politics" guy.

But even within the community, it also prescribes a very narrow idea of what a cis or intersex-without-a-penis lesbian can be - you present the idea that not all butches are 100% service tops and absolute experts with a strap-on and people look at you like you grew a second head, femme lesbians and lesbian bottoms are treated like they're somehow Less Queer, and transmascs are treated as basically the antithesis of queerness; if the queerness that we need to defend and fight for = femininity + penis, then masculinity + (presumed) vagina is, like, the OPPOSITE of what we need to care about-

Even though to queerphobes, the hate is still there, it's just sloppier, more shrouded in shadows, harder to describe, harder to define. The framework for HOW to hate people who don't meet that standard is much less defined-

But it's also more socially acceptable, in a paradoxical way, because on some level those of us who are not Feminine + Penis Queer(TM) are seen as not being protected by the defense movements for drag queen story hours - and a good amount of the time, they're right, be it because even some of the pro-queer rights people truly are playing by their rules, or because their ill-defined hate toward anyone who fails to conform to the white supremacist standard of what The Two Genders are but ALSO fails to fit into their framework of why they're "supposed" to hate The Homosexual Agenda is just as hard for us to dissect as it is for them.

This is not to create a hierarchy of oppression. This is not to say that anyone who has a penis inherently oppresses anyone without, because that is just demonstrably not true. This is not to make an argument about which gender of queer people inherently Has It Worse; I am strongly of the belief that once you have "failed" hard enough at your assigned or actual gender it starts to even out and I have data to support that.

Rather, it is to serve as a call to start questioning the idea that queerness begins and ends at the intersection of femininity and penises. To step back and ask yourself if you have bought into this idea, whether you think it is good or bad. It is to ask yourself if you have more positive or negative feelings toward the combination of feminine + penis vs. masculine + vagina and start unpacking that - and in fact to go even further and start unpacking, what are your feelings toward OTHER combinations and do THEY differ? Beards and lipstick? Muscles and gowns? Masculinity + femininity + some entirely different genital configuration, be it by birth or by body modification? It is a call to recognize people who express queerness by deliberately overperforming their gender, whether they're cis or trans, regardless of what genitals they have or why - when gender conformity becomes so farcically intense that it loops right back around to nonconformity, as is the case for many femme lesbians or gay leathermen.

And above all else, it is a call to recognize that queerphobia comes for ALL of these examples of nonconformity-

And it will help every single one of us if we stay a step ahead of the game in recognizing WHY, in recognizing WHAT we're transgressing instead of waiting for queerphobes to publish books about it and then STILL debating whether they REALLY mean those things or not.

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zee-man-chatter · 1 year ago

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https://nationalpost.com/opinion/britain-has-succumbed-to-the-the-tyranny-of-the-minority

Allister Heath: Britain has succumbed to the tyranny of the minority

The U.K. is now an elite dictatorship where majority opinions are crushed

Allister Heath, The Telegraph

LONDON — Britain’s deranged war on cars, our looming ban on gas boilers, the debanking scandal, the failure to prosecute crime, the attempted cancellation of women, the sabotage of the Brexit agenda, the scale of migration: welcome to anti-democratic Britain, where the beleaguered majority is increasingly subject to the whims of an entitled, activist elite that often seems to despise the people over which it exercises so much power.

All the policies listed above share a devastating commonality: they are deeply unpopular, and would be crushed in a referendum after a fair campaign, were the politicians courageous enough to grant the public a say (in the case of Brexit, they did, of course, and continue to this day to resist implementing the revolutionary change implied by the vote).

In a truly majoritarian society, one where the demos actually exercised kratos, no form of crime would be tolerated, and certainly not burglaries or muggings. Nobody would dare to indoctrinate school children with extreme trans ideology, and the green agenda would be centred around urgent technological innovation rather than seeking to prevent working people from flying to holidays in the sun.

Yet we live in a very different political reality, one in which public opinion is flagrantly disregarded whenever it doesn’t align with the views of the ruling class. Westminster has become cartelized: the large parties are committed to an unrealistic dash to net zero, refuse to discuss the gargantuan cost involved and omit to mention that Britain’s carbon emissions are about three per cent of China’s. On the great subjects of our time — family policy, the size of the state, the NHS and even planning rules — there is little difference between Tory, Labour and Lib Dem MPs, disenfranchising millions.

The intellectual conformity is stultifying, and has been reinforced by the emergence of an all-powerful Blob, the nexus of mandarins, policy advisers, quangocrats and other government agents, a class of “public servants” who don’t really like the public and are increasingly convinced that they have a constitutional duty to constrain and contain elected politicians. They are experts at delay, prevarication and lawfare, and are cheered on by the left-wing activists who have taken over the legal profession, our cultural institutions, academia, charities and even many big companies.

Thus even in the rare instances when the Tories attempt to think the unthinkable and respond to public opinion, as with the Channel crossings, the system does its best to block any change, empowered by quasi-constitutional legislation such as the Equality Act, the Climate Change Act and our membership of the ECHR.

The upshot is an extraordinary disempowerment of the electorate: is it any wonder that some voters fear we risk becoming a democracy in name only? Take the absurd war on cars: a tiny minority of activists, council planners, devolved administrations and ministers are seeking to discourage the mode of transport that the vast majority of the population relies on. Or consider immigration, which is a lot higher than the public would like: all potential solutions to reduce numbers while preserving the economy are lambasted as gimmicks, meaningless or self-evidently stupid. The Tories have promised to cut numbers in every single one of their manifestos since at least the 1990s, and yet aren’t even pretending to try any longer. How does this not disastrously undermine trust in politicians?

Until recently, all parts of British society bought into the democratic ethos developed after the great voting reforms of the 19th and 20th century, or at least paid lip service to it. It was deemed snobbish to dismiss the views of ordinary voters out of hand, and borderline insane to seek to reverse the expansion of the consumer society.

That consensus, already left fragile by the Blairite legal revolution and his massive increase in the number of university graduates, was finally shattered after the 2016 Brexit referendum. Most of our institutions are now controlled by a pseudo-meritocratic elite convinced that only it can prevent the masses from reverting to ignorance, racism and prejudice.

Our new ruling class is paternalistic, messianic even: in a post-religious age, it has taken on the role of priest and saviour of the common people. It still occasionally feels the need to legitimize unpopular ideas by pretending that they garner majority support, hence all the polls “proving” that people support net zero. Yet when asked to pay the price in terms of actual cash or drastically reduced convenience, the public immediately rebels.

There was a time when we worried, rightly, that the tyranny of the majority was the main threat to freedom and prosperity; today, it is the tyranny of the minority that poses the greatest danger. Our new task is to prevent the majority from being oppressed: how do we stop the capture of every institution by the radical left? How do we make Parliament more representative, and reduce the power of the Blob? One answer would be to use a lot more referenda, as the Swiss do; another would be radical reform of the civil service, turning ministers into CEOs with proper control over mandarins.

I’m well aware that the majority can have bad or evil ideas, or vote for maniacs. We need to retain — and in some cases, further develop — protections against majoritarian abuses, even if some of the current ones are no longer fit for purpose or have been hijacked. Elites have helped drive much good social change in recent decades, including by fighting racism and prejudice against all sorts of minorities.

But the pendulum has swung too far away from majoritarian rule, and too much power handed to social engineers. Today, the problem doesn’t lie with the public, which is largely tolerant and liberal-conservative, but with the elites, who have become authoritarian and anti-democratic, captured by wokery and a dislike of material aspiration.

What we call populism, in the current British context, is really the majority trying to reassert itself. Voters are developing a new form of class consciousness; “motorists” are becoming a political force. The Ulez fiasco is acting as a gateway, normalizing opposition to other excesses.

The message to politicians is clear: start listening to the voters again, or else Britain will soon face a popular uprising orders of magnitude greater — and more unpredictable — than Brexit.

The Telegraph

#britain #minority politics

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