witchbaby eats souls
in which witchbaby explains stuff

I’m trying to come up with a way of explaining just how weird this really is.

You see, my friend Buzz is an honest-to-god gay man. Not one of my slashy inventions. And so he’s a great resource for me, answering all of my questions about all the man-on-man action I try to write about (i.e., "Okay, so can you really kiss someone when you're face-to-face ass fucking?" Or “how many times can you come in, say, one night, if you’re really turned on?” The most amusing part of this is that most of these conversations take place when we’re on public transportation. Or at work).

The problem arises when you take into account that Buzz is my best friend, and I talk about slash pretty much all the time. So he gets to know the ins and outs of due South, The A-Team, Starsky and Hutch, and all the rest, rather more intimately than he maybe would have liked. Now, Buzz doesn’t like slash. He finds it kind of disturbing (“Dude, I’ve seen the show. They’re not gay!” To which I respond either, “Yeah, whatever, take a look at the subtext.” Or perhaps simply, “But Buzz. Theirloveissopure.”

At which point Buzz groans and hangs up on me).

But despite his anti-slash stance, somehow it has come about that Buzz has written in more slash fandoms than even I have. See, Buzz is not only an honest-to-God gay man, he’s also an actual writer, and so all my talking about these shows just settle into his brain and he feels compelled to write about them. He doesn’t want to do it, he’s not proud of doing it, and very often he’s not even seen a full episode of the show he’s writing about. I just talk about it so damn much that he picks up these details and weaves them into a story, then sits back and glares at me and says, “Now I feel dirty.”

This is the effect I have on my friends.

Anyway. Without further ado, here are the slash stylings of Buzz. May God have mercy on his mortal soul.