#*mendel falsettos voice* i don’t care to discuss it

[make-out]

i really very earnestly am trying to find resources to help me understand asexuality as a sexual identity with a rich and nuanced history since that is the way that modern asexuals seem to understand it, but the more i research the more i seem to find the contrary to be true. yes there is a rich and nuanced history of asexuality but as a political identity that very often is moralistic and divisive and also extremely heteronormative despite being sexually separatist or whatever.

i saw a post ages ago that directed me to read the asexual manifesto and now i’m really wondering if the op of that post actually read it at all. because it doesn’t make an appealing case for modern asexuality, not even remotely. it characterizes asexuality as the result of, first of all, having a shitload of sex. it also characterizes it as 100% a choice—a choice to be celibate or to restrict interpersonal relationships to physical contact and affection of a nonsexual nature. all of that is fine and cool except that sexuality as we understand it is not a choice, so that’s one strike. and also, the people writing this rhetoric were radfems who largely identified as straight women and who at many turns fought against lesbian feminist ideology and queer liberation in general.

i understand that asexuality has evolved to take a different form now, that it’s no longer viewed as a political identity but instead as a sexual one. i get that, obviously, i’m aware of the discourse, that’s why i’m doing this research and writing these thoughts down. but i’m having a really hard time seeing how something that originated as a highly moralistic and frankly puritanical political stance could evolve so quickly into something so completely separate from that. my basic thought about ace people is that i don’t give a shit if you don’t have sex/don’t want to have sex/don’t have a sex drive, i really don’t, it’s not my business and if you feel the need to form a community of like minded individuals so that you can discuss your personal struggles with uh, not having sex, that sounds fine to me, do that. but the second it crosses into moralistic boundaries, the second that a message of sexual supremacy starts to form, asexuality stops being a sexual identity and starts being a political one.

my desire to have cock in my ass is not a political identity. it’s a sexual one, one that i cannot opt out of or into, and one that could very well get me stabbed at a gas station in alabama. i’m not calling modern asexuality a choice—that would be a malformed thought with no real basis in anything because i haven’t done the research to support that. but i am saying that sexual supremacy of any kind, directed at homosexuals, is homophobic. and it’s existed for a very long time. it’s not special. it’s not new. it is actually so fuckign ancient like this discourse is biblical bro it’s just that now the call is coming from inside the house i guess

[melchixr]

‘Lesbians’ From Nextdoor

Anon said:  hernst au where they're really just charlotte and cordelia from falsettos. ernst is cordelia and tries too hard, meanwhile hanschen is charlotte and in a constant state of "what the fuck". melchior is marvin and moritz is whizzer. ilse is mendel.

Boi, here we go. Feat. Ernst being a bit of airhead and Hanschen is just ???????

Words: 932

“Hello, dear!”Ernst's voice called as soon as Hanschen closed the front door. His greeting came from down the hall, which just so happened to also be where smoke was pouring out from. “How was work?!”

Throwing his bag onto the couch and loosening his tie, Hanschen made his way to the kitchen. The fan was on and the window was open but the smoke coming from the open over still filled the room. And Ernst stood in the middle of it, desperately fanning it out the window with what looked like their bathroom mat. “It was Uh...fine...how are you holding up, Ernie?”

The brunette stopped flailing his arms, cheeks pink from exhaustion and embarrassment. He turned to fully face Hanschen, hands on his hips and pink apron still on.  “How does it look like it's holding up?” he sighed before tossing the mat to the floor. “Last time I go shower with cookies in the oven, I guess.”

Hanschen approached, peering down into the oven to see that the cookies now resembled something like hockey pucks. “Oh dear. And you're normally such a good cook! I'm sorry, hone-”

“Oh don't feed me that bullshit, Hansi!” Ernst slumped into a chair, now completely uncaring to whether or not the whole room filled with smoke. “You haven't ate my cooking in weeks! You always get some gross, greasy fast food on your way home and then apologize like you were dying of starvation.  I get it! You're lover can't cook for shit! Have you told your boys back at the hospital yet or do you just act like me and my shitty cookies don't exist!”

For a minute, Hanschen was taken aback. He stared at Ernst’s hopeless expression and thought the outburst over before walking to the younger man's side. “I uh….wow... well….I think you're a glorious cook, Ernst! You're absolutely wonderful...when you stick to the recipe and don't….experiment…”

Ernst hopped to his feet. “And when am I not experiment-”

“Knock knock.”

Both of their gazes moved to the open window, with smoke still rushing out of it and the figure of Moritz Stiefel standing on the fire escape. “Did I intrude on something?”

“No, no, no!” Ernst cried out with a brilliant, almost fake smile. “Come on in, Mo!”

As his upstairs neighbor climbed in through the window, Hanschen almost collapsed into the chair next to him. He had no idea how the love of his life could be both an absolute maniac and a shining angel of a homemaker. But all he could do was just sit back and watch him work his Robel magic.

“What brings you in, Moritz?” He asked and pulled the pan of hockey puck cookies with his bedazzled oven mitts.

The raven haired man tugged at his collar. “Ilse came over so she and Melchi are arguing like kindergarteners. What happened in here?”

“Well, I burnt the cookies a bit…”

“A bit!” Hanschen scoffed from his seat. The over the shoulder glare from Ernst was enough to make him shut up.

The pause in conversation was just enough time to hear a muffled shout from above. It sounded like Melchior's voice, screaming out a very muted: “How dare you assume that I can't take care of a fish, asshat!”

Moritz rolled his eyes and reached over to grab the mat that Ernst had been using. “She came over to discuss getting Wendla’s records what the fuck are they…. excuse my step,” as he spoke, Moritz stepped up onto the dining room chair Hanschen wasn't sitting in and slapped the mat against the ceiling. “Give her the fuckin records, asshat!”

After stepping down, Moritz let out a long sigh. “Anywho, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“A lover’s spat!” Ernst corrected with a wave of his hand. “Gotta have em to keep the cogs turning. “

Now, Moritz scoffed. He knew that there was love between the two of them, just sometimes that was shown in a storm of smoke. “I’m sure it is. But what would I know. Melchior almost threw me out of the house because I wouldn’t let him play Kumbaya ‘as a joke’ while we had sex. “

In the next instant of silence, a crashing sound came from upstairs. It sounded like a record hitting the wall and shattering. All three men looked up towards the noise. And only a few seconds later, saw about 10 records go flying past the window, heading towards the sidewalk below.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Moritz sighed as shouts came from above them. “I better go babysit them before they’ve got a knife to each other’s throats.” The slight framed man slowly walked to the window he came from. “Ciao, boys. Ernie, you should come up for a visit when your cookies are all done.”

As Moritz climbed up out the fire escape, Ernst looked back to Hanschen, who was staring at his lover with tired eyes. “These neighbors I swear to God….”

“I think it makes the neighborhood feel more….homey,” Ernst sighed wistfully, looking up to see most of the smoke was now fanned out of their tiny apartment.

Hanschen was about to just roll his eyes and go get out of his work clothes before he paused. “Wait….” He muttered before looking over to Ernst. “All this smoke and our fire detectors didn’t go off? Are there not any batteries in them or…?”

Ernst’s nervous shrug spoke a thousand words to Hans, who couldn’t help but smile just a little bit at his idiot of a boyfriend.