Just wanted to say thank you so, so much for writing Fate's Favourite. I actually found and loved your blog before I ever found that fanfic, and it was a delight to know it was written by you, and it's so clear how you've improved. But Fate's Favourite will always have a part of my heart, because it's the first story I've read that just has a platonic friendship that feels as equal as a romantic one without being romantic? And as a lonely aroace that means everything. EVERYTHING. (1/2)
(2/2) I had a conversation today that reminded me that I'm never going to have the queerplatonic relationship I want that I've always wanted since I was a child, and how it makes me want to write one so much more, but then I've never managed to write the story I've wanted to write my entire life because I'd always be afraid of being accused of queerbaiting or people just going, 'but it's actually just a gay romance this isn't what friendship looks like' and just. Thank you for Fate's Favourite.
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Wow. FF is a blast from the past!
You are very welcome.
Apologies for the long, self-indulgent reply.
That story was one of the first things I ever properly wrote and my first (maybe second?) truly long-form story ever. I thus have a soft spot for it, even though in terms of craft and technique I can't so much as look at it without seeing all my numerous beginner flaws and cringing and can't bring myself to actually point people to it. Much improvement since then, as you say!
(An excellent reminder that writing is a learned skill.)
Anyway. The other interesting thing about that story is that I wrote it before I'd ever heard of asexuality or realised that was what I was. I was a very confused teenager being bombarded with this pressure to have crushes and date people and all that general societal messaging we have about romance being the most important thing ever. Especially in YA.
So I'd go home after school and write that story.
Obviously it's more unhealthy than what I'd want for myself in my real life, but the sheer intensity of feeling and importance of the platonic main relationship was something I had also never seen before but craved. And still crave, honestly. So I feel ya.
As for queerbaiting...
A lot of readers at the time told me they viewed the story as 'pre-romance'. AKA, it's a romantic relationship and they haven't realised it yet for whatever reason. They mostly didn't mean that badly, I don't think.
(Although I sometimes think though that if the term 'queerbaiting' was as broadly known and misused then as it is now that I would have been mercilessly lambasted out of ever writing again! And I wouldn't have known how to articulate the fact that wasn't, actually, what I was doing. I think we need to be kind to new writers. I think 'content creator' is gutting something vital in the ecosystem. But that's another rabbit hole.)
So I've been there. It happens. But other people's bad takes didn't change the story and what it meant to me as a lonely ace teenager or what it meant to you.
I have had readers before make a similar comment to you about how it was the first time they got to see something so important to their heart portrayed.
That matters so much more than whatever people say about your writing who don't need it.
Which is why we have to keep writing the stories.
Even if it's clumsy and raw. Even if it's the first thing you've ever tried. Even if it's (especially if) it's a messed up fantasy straight from the most primal part of your brain.
If we don't write it, it won't exist.
And that's so much worse.
The nay-sayers can come to the party, but it wasn't thrown in their honour.
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kevin
kevin was a familiar sort of man for annie, as a therapist. he was a well-off businessman, powerful in his own kingdom, good at navigating life with a hot and crazy wife, and who had a hard time making sense of his teenage daughter.
she liked talking to him. he was a good talker, funny, and more than willing to share lots of explicit details. he told her about realizing early in his marriage he had to make time to really pound the shit out of his wife in bed every morning to keep her in a good mood all day. he told her he'd learned that his wife would always ask for him to cum inside her, but in reality she preferred it when he came all over her, making a mess of her that she had to take some time to clean up. annie could tell that kevin clocked the way annie was shifting in her seat as he told her this -- she was wet and he knew it. but he didn't comment on it. he told her he and his wife rarely had sex at night when their daughter was young, but how he'd learned to notice when she'd trimmed her pubic hair down to almost nothing it was a signal she wanted to make time to have an evening fuck, too.
"is your wife a naked around the house kind of woman?"
"yes," he said, smiling. "i wouldn't have it any other way. of course, now my daughter is that way too."
"really?" annie said. "she doesn't cover herself up around you?"
"no," he said. "i see everything."
"that's a sign of trust," annie said. "trust and confidence."
"it's funny though," he said. "you know, when my wife is all trimmed up that's a good sign. but i like it when the opposite is true with sienna."
"you like when she's not shaved because that means she's not having sex with anyone?"
he laughed. "yeah. is that awful? patriarchal and awful?"
"no," annie said. "i mean, most girls sort of like a sense of possessiveness."
"even from their fathers?"
"especially," annie said. "but also, it doesn't mean she's having sex for sure."
"what else would it be for?" he asked.
"just being horny," she said. "you know, we tend to focus on that part of ourselves when we're using it a lot. even just by ourselves."
"do women do that a lot?" he asked. "i mean, seriously. i know my wife does it but she never admits to it."
"that's funny," annie said. "i always thought that was a stereotype."
"women who don't admit to masturbating?"
"yeah," annie said. "i have always been upfront with my partners about it."
"i'm sure men like that," he said.
"especially when you tell them you jerked off before a date so you wouldn't immediately jump their bones," she said.
kevin grinned. "you're way more fun than the average therapist," he said. "and prettier." he coughed nervously. "sorry."
"it's fine," annie said. "i mean, i don't mind being told i'm pretty."
"how often do women jerk off then?" he asked.
"i do it every day," annie said. "sometimes a few times. i did it this morning in bed, and i have an hour before my next session, and i will probably do it again."
"in here?" he said.
"on that couch," annie grinned.
"you have touched yourself on this couch?"
"i've had sex on that couch," she said.
he patted the couch appreciatively. "nice."
annie laughed.
"people talk about sex in here a lot," he observed.
"yes," she said.
"how often do you get turned on during sessions?"
annie laughed. "pretty often."
"that's not only exciting but just kind of... it feels like proof that you're listening."
"i'm glad you see it that way," annie said.
as they wound down their session, kevin said, "i guess you want to get me out of here so you can... you know."
"do a little DJing?" annie joked.
he laughed. "yes," he said. "i mean, i'd gladly stick around..."
"you can," she said.
"really?" he said, surprised that his joking-but-not-joking cover had actually worked.
"sure," annie said. "we're off the clock. you want to watch me touch myself?"
"very much," he said.
annie decided to be fairly reserved -- she took off her skirt but left on her panties, which were here fairly standard white cotton bikini briefs, and sat in her chair and reached in and started touching herself. kevin stared.
"do you like to be watched?" he asked.
"yes," she moaned.
"will you take off your panties for me?" he asked.
"okay," she said. she slipped them off and tossed them toward her desk. he looked at her bald pussy and grinned. "perfect," he said.
annie was working herself up pretty rapidly. "i'm gonna cum," she told him.
"good girl," he said.
annie yelped as she climaxed. she convulsed a little in her chair and then collapsed and licked her fingers.
"will you think of me differently now?" she asked him.
he thought about it. "no," he said. "as soon as i met you, i pictured you doing that kind of thing. and worse."
"like what?" she asked, smiling.
"like taking my cock up your ass."
annie grinned. "straight up my ass huh? not even gonna lick a girl's pussy first?"
"nope," he said, "right up your ass whether you like it or not."
annie held her tongue. she was going to ask for it, but thought she might better enjoy the road where she didn't give permission.
"you should get out of my office before you do something you regret," she said.
she got up and walked toward her desk to get her underwear. he followed her, and bent her over the desk. annie gasped as she hit the wood.
"shut the fuck up," he told her, pulling out his cock and pushing it into her.
she wasn't ready of course. she liked that she wasn't ready. it fucking hurt. he pounded her ass for 30 exquisitely brutal seconds, cumming somewhere in the middle of it. then he pulled out and pulled his cock away. annie never even saw it. she fell to the floor. he left her office immediately.
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