A note on romance

I just got off a cigarette after sex, after spending an hour going to town on myself with my satysfier.

I love my satisfyer. I don’t think I could do without it. I’m currently reading all the Heated Rivalry books (maybe for a piece, who knows), and those books got me turned on tbh. I didn’t think gay sex could do it for me, but who knew all I needed was gay romances written by a woman.

I’m like a switch when it comes to sex; I only know the on and off buttons during specific times in my life. When the switch is on, I use anal plugs on strangers I met an hour ago in the back of their car. On the off days, I’m the kind of person in bed at 8 pm with one of my required readings for class. Those are not fun days.

But those days, I found myself reflecting more and more on what’s good for me, what’s a good mix between the on and off switch, and I found the perfect middle ground: masturbation, while a bit high, with a good playlist, and an amazing scenario in my head.

Then later, I’ll read either my own novel because I’m that full of myself, or I'll read something fun. And I think I found my love for reading again. It’s not found in the intricacies of a Russian classic (although Dosto is totally my guy), but in slutty smut. I love smut. I love discovering new smut, new ways of writing it, and new ways of imagining sex, and nothing is richer about that than literature.

You can argue that porn is richer in representation of sex than literature, but that’s only an argument if you haven’t spent hours on AO3 or Wattpad in your teens. Because trust me, the smut is there, and it’s beautiful.

I’m no longer ashamed of loving smut. Yeah, if there isn’t a sex scene in a book, chances are, I’m going to find it boring, in a way, because there almost always is romance in a book, yes, even dear Dosto wrote us romance, but never a sex scene? Come the fuck on, I wanna know how these characters would get down and dirty.

And I love reading smut either between fictional characters I’m invested in (destiel forever), or about new characters I didn’t know about because they’re writing a novel about smut and a whole relationship.

I would never read smut written about real people, though; that’s never been my thing.

I don’t want romance in my real life because I know it won’t be as earth-shattering as the novels I’ve read about, but I love reading it. And I’m not one of those tiktok readers reading Colleen Hoover, or even worse, Penelope Douglas. I read legitimately good romances that are above board in terms of representation, consent, all the good things.

So why shouldn’t I indulge? It’s not giving me any idealization of love because my conception of love has long left the coop; it’s healthy, I enjoy it, it’s like my version of yoga or a chai latte, except that it comes with cigarette breaks.

And anyway, we might all be going to war soon, so damn you, I’m going to have some fun.

I’m writing this because my friends are tired of hearing me talk about Heated Rivalry when it’s the best thing that has happened to me so far this year. It’s my new obsession. I’m reading book 4 when I started less than a week ago. It’s my cocaine, and I’m snorting every line.

Buy me a Coffee

From Marseille with Love,

*Vapes away*