#not the same thing???? what am i even talking about anymore.

[twink-woman]

I’m kind of confused as to why we’re even drawing a distinction between people who self-identify as trans women/fems and people who self-identify as femboys (but notably not trans women/fems) in the first place, because, like… Yeah, if you’re a transfeminized person, you’re going to be TMA, regardless of what you call yourself.

But the way that I’ve always understood the process of transfeminization (how individuals’ identities* become transmisogyny-confined) is that it necessitates a rejection (at least to a certain extent) of one’s assigned maleness and a simultaneous transition towards femininity/womanhood, even if one doesn’t specifically label themselves as a woman or fem.

*(Btw, I’m not trying to play idpol here, I’m just using the word “identity” to mean “the category into which a stratified society places you based on certain characteristics like gender”)

It’s both of these things in tandem that creates the intersection between oppositional and traditional sexism that we know as transmisogyny: transitioning toward womanhood invalidates the idea that “man” and “woman” are distinct, unchanging categories, and rejecting male assignment invalidates the idea that manhood is inherently superior to womanhood.

So, with that said… Are GNC cis men TMA? Are they only TMA if they specifically call themselves femboys or sissies?

They’re certainly discriminated against, in the same way that femininity is always viewed as lesser, no matter who embodies it. But proximity to transfemininity, being mistaken for a trans woman, does not a transmisogyny-confined identity make.

To put it another way: I’ve seen trans men call themselves femboys before, and I think we can all agree that they are not TMA, but they are still feminine men. It’s just that transfemininity, the way it’s defined by and marginalized within a transmisogynistic society, is not treated the same as being a feminine man (see: the third-gendering/degendering of trans women), and I do believe it’s because of that rejection of male assignment that it’s not.

I don’t think whether or not someone calls themself a femboy or a sissy is entirely irrelevant to whether or not they’re TMA, of course not. But I also don’t think the two are inherently interlinked. I don’t think these identities are inherently transfeminized because, at the end of the day, they’re just words that some people call themselves, rather vague identity labels, and what you call yourself is not what makes you TMA, as you said.

Does that mean femboys or sissies aren’t/can’t be TMA? Of course not. But I also don’t think that GNC cis men (regardless of what specific labels they use for themselves) being interpersonally discriminated against for their proximity to transfemininity makes them TMA — makes their identities inherently confined by the entire system of oppression that is transmisogyny — anymore than TME trans people’s proximity to trans women makes them TMA.

So, I guess my real question is just: What exactly is this post about? Because if it’s not about GNC cis men who call themselves femboys and sisses, if it’s only about femboys and sissies who are neither cis nor transfem… Then, again I have to ask, why does a line need to be drawn when the only distinction between these two groups of TMA people, transfems and non-transfem femboys/sissies, is the particular words they choose to label themselves with?

And I really want to stress, I’m not asking this to be inflammatory or contrarian or anything, I am genuinely curious because I feel like I’ve missed out on some crucial context here.

I have seen TME people time and time again insist that “actually everybody is TMA,” and then use this talking point as a subtle ploy to just get transfems to shut up about transmisogyny. So I will fully admit that I reflexively dismiss arguments about how “GNC men are TMA” or “all intersex people are TMA” or “[whoever else they decide to tokenize this week] are TMA” when I see them because of that prior experience. But I don’t want to do that with this post since I don’t feel at all like that’s what it’s advocating.

I may be way off the mark here, but I figured I’d just ask, ‘cause it’s an interesting discussion either way.

it’s low-key kind of crazy when people say “femboys aren’t TMA and if you need proof just see how little people care about XYZ femboy since she came out as transfem” because this is literally just the same “closeted/stealth transfems can’t be transmisogyny affected” argument all over again. like explain to me how y’all can agree that closeted/stealth trans women aren’t transmisogyny exempt but femboys/sissies are? it isn’t a privilege to have to sexualise yourself and present your identity a certain way to get work or recognition. just because any person assigned male at birth asserting their identity as a woman specifically results in a specific kind of transmisogyny doesn’t mean that people assigned male at birth who present femininely but don’t identify as women aren’t transmisogyny affected. and just because some femboys/sissies only present femininely because of a kink doesn’t mean they wouldn’t lose their jobs, homes, families, friends & partners if somebody found out. transmisogyny is not determined by our personal identities for fucks sake that’s why we can’t identify out of it. we need to quit the idpol shit for real.

[winchesterwild78]

Happy New Year pt 2

Master List

 Read Part 1 here

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, mentions of Danneel, reader’s husband, and other people. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, divorce, fluff

A/N: This story was supposed to be a one shot, but so many are asking for a second part. So here it is. There will be a time jump by a few months in this part. 

Jensen and Reader are co-workers and ended up at the same New Year’s Eve party. They had sex in the bathroom, and we learn this isn’t the first time they’ve been together.

This is a work of fiction, and I don’t condone cheating, but that’s what this story was about. 

Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors. 

All work is my own, please don’t take it in any way. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few months were a whirlwind. Our break from filming was coming to an end and we were due back on set soon. Jensen and I kept in touch through text, and occasionally would find time to see each other. 

I couldn’t help it, I was falling for him. 

I knew it was dangerous. He’s married and so am I, but being with him, being in his arms I felt like I was all that mattered to him. 

We both have obligations, and commitments. His were to Danneel and their children, and mine were to my husband. Since the New Years Eve party my husband and I drifted further apart. He was consumed with which celebrities I could introduce him to, and of course the money I was making that was setting him up for a very comfortable lifestyle. 

At the end of February we finally hit the wall. “I can’t take this anymore. You’re more worried about which celebrity I can introduce you to, or how much money I’m bringing home than you are me. I’ve been sick for weeks and you haven’t noticed or cared. I’m done. I need you to leave.” 

He didn’t even argue, he packed his things and left. I sat on the couch and cried. Part of me was relieved we were done, but then the loneliness began to set in. 

I decided to keep the breakup to myself, at least for now. I was due back on set in a few days, and didn’t want to distract anyone, especially Jensen. 

I packed and headed to Toronto. Walking into the apartment I rented I let out the breath I’d been holding for what felt like months. 

Unpacking, I took inventory of everything I needed and grabbed my jacket to head to the store. My phone went off with a notification.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart. I’m in town early. I’d like to see you if you’re up to it.

I bit my lip. The last time I saw him, a few weeks ago, he held me and we talked about our future. He told me he wanted to be with me, but wasn’t sure how we could make it work. Especially with the kids involved. I understood, but I’d be lying if it didn’t break my heart a little. 

We poured our hearts out to each other, said everything including “I love you”. I felt it, and I know he did too. 

Me: Yeah, hey. I’m heading to the store, but I can message you when I get back. Want to come over here?

Jensen: Yeah. I’d love to. See you soon, sweetheart.

My heart fluttered. I headed to the store and grabbed the things I needed and went home. Putting up the groceries I got a notification on my phone. It was an Instagram post from Danneel. 

It was a picture of the kids and Jensen. She captioned it with “We are really missing daddy right now. First birthday in a few years we won’t get to spend with him. We love you and can’t wait to celebrate when we come to see you.” 

I felt my heart ache. The guilt and weight of our infidelity hung heavy over me and in my heart. 

Jensen’s birthday was in two days. I had planned to cook dinner for him and bake him a cake, but now I’m not sure he’d want that. Her post made me second guess everything. Were they still in love? Were they working it out? Was I just a way for him to pass the time when he was away from her? 

I sent him a message to tell him I was home and he replied he was on his way. 

About 20 minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to see Jensen standing there looking absolutely incredible. 

“Hey sweetheart. You look beautiful.” I smiled, “You’re looking pretty good yourself there Ackles.” 

He pulled me in for a hug and pushed me into the apartment, closing the door with his foot. 

His lips crashed on mine in a heated kiss and I moaned in his mouth. When we pulled apart Jensen cupped my face, “God I missed you.” “I missed you too, Jensen.” 

I turned to walk away and he took my hand, “Hey, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t look at him. The post from Danneel, my marriage falling apart, my feelings for him all became too much. The tears I held back started to fall. 

“Hey, shh, what’s wrong sweetheart, talk to me. Please.” His fingers tilted my chin up to look at him. 

Looking in his green eyes made my heart flutter and ache at the same time. “I don’t know what to do, Jensen. I made him leave. We’re done. This, what we have is becoming too much. Jensen, I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, but I fell in love with you. I know you have D, love her and the kids, hell I get it. You have a perfect wife and children, a perfect life and then you have me. I think I need to take a step back from us. You and D deserve a chance to fix whatever pushed you into my arms. I think you should go.” 

Jensen stood there looking at me, wiping the tears that fell. “Baby, don’t say that. D and I aren’t in a good place. We’ve talked about divorce. Neither one of us is happy. Please, baby, don’t push me away.” “Jensen, talking about divorce and splitting up are two very different things. I love you Jensen, but I can’t keep doing this. I saw her Instagram post. I know I’m just the other woman.” 

He nodded, wiped the tears that fell and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I know, and for what it’s worth, I love you too. You’re not the other woman, you’re my world, but I understand.” Then he walked out the door. 

I collapsed in the chair and sobbed. I was so utterly alone. I cried so hard I started vomiting and couldn’t stop. 

After crying all I could, and emptying all the contents of my stomach, I curled on the couch and looked through the photos on my phone. The ones of Jensen and I, the stolen moments we spent with each other. Jensen was the love of my life and I made him leave. The hole in my heart grew. 

Our first day back on set was Jensen’s birthday. The cast and crew sang Happy Birthday, made him a cake, and planned a dinner to celebrate. I stood in the back of the sound stage and watched him smile and thank everyone for their wishes. 

One of the other writers came up to me, “Hey, Y/N, you okay?” “Yeah, just feeling a little under the weather. Figured I’d stand over here in case I’m contagious.” I chuckled lightly. 

“Are you coming out tonight for Jensen’s birthday dinner?” “I don’t know. I think I’m going to head home and sleep for a bit. If I start feeling better then I might.” 

She nodded, placed a hand on my shoulder and left. When I looked up I made eye contact with Jensen. He smiled softly, but I turned and walked away. 

I couldn’t shake the sickness, and I was starting to get concerned. I’d been sick for weeks. At first I chalked it up to stress, but this felt different. I felt different. 

Then Jensen’s voice echoed in my head, “I’m gonna fuck a baby into this pussy. Let everyone know who you belong to.” 

Did I, could I… All I could think about was the night at the party. We’d always been so careful, even afterwards. That night however, Jensen didn’t use protection. 

On my way home I stopped at the store and grabbed 3 different tests just to be sure. 

Once in the safety of my apartment I carefully read the instructions for each test. Stepping into the bathroom I took each test and laid them on the counter. 

I nervously paced and my head spun with different scenarios. I knew if I was pregnant the baby was Jensen’s. My husband hadn’t touched me since before Halloween, and Jensen was the only other person I had been with. 

My heart hammered in my chest. What would I do if I was pregnant? Would Jensen even want the baby? Would I? 

The timer went off and I looked at the tests. The first test, two lines. The second test, a line and plus sign. The final test is just one word “pregnant”. 

My breath hitched. My hands were shaking and I felt the bile rise in my throat. 

“Oh my god.” I whispered. “What am I going to do?” I stood in the bathroom staring at the three tests. I had no idea what I was going to do. I had just left my husband, and made Jensen leave. I was completely alone. 

My phone went off with a notification, it was a text from Libby, another co-worker.

Libby: Girl, you need to come out tonight. It’s going to be so much fun. I know something is wrong, but nothing a little alcohol can’t fix. 

I chuckled a little, and touched my belly, “That’s what you think.”

Me: I’ll be there. Not sure about the alcohol, still not feeling great, but I’ll be there.

Libby: Great! I’ll save you a seat. See you later. 

I jumped in the shower, the tests still sitting on the counter. A reminder of what hung heavy over me. 

I got ready and headed to the restaurant. When I walked in I was ushered to a back room where the party was going on. I heard Jensen’s laugh before I even stepped in the room. 

Libby saw me and walked over, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” I nodded and smiled. I walked over to the bar and asked for a glass of water. As I turned I made eye contact with Jensen from across the room. 

His smile grew when he saw me. I smiled back and turned away. I couldn’t look at him. The secret I carried in me was too much.

We all took our seats at the table, and I was directed to sit next to Eric, who was sitting near Jensen. I looked over at the empty chair, Of course it’s right beside Jensen. 

I took my seat and took a deep breath. I looked over at Jensen, my voice shaky, “Happy Birthday, Jensen. I hope you get everything you wish for.” He leaned in and hugged me, whispering in my ear, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” As he pulled back he placed a soft kiss on my cheek. 

My breath hitched. 

Throughout the dinner, Jensen’s hand rested on my thigh. When he first put it down I looked over at him and he started to move it, but I placed my hand on his. He left it. 

I realized sitting next to him he had a right to know. I needed to tell him. I excused myself and went to the restroom. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. 

Me: Hey, I think we should talk. Want to come by later?

Jensen: Absolutely. Thank you baby.

Me: Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure you’re going to be happy with what I need to tell you.

Jensen: There isn’t anything you can tell me that’s going to upset me. Well, except you never want to see me again. 

Me: Okay, well after this, come over so we can talk. 

Jensen: I’ll be there sweetheart.

I went back to the table. About an hour later we were saying our goodbyes and I headed home. 

Ten minutes later Jensen was at my door. “Hey, beautiful.” “Hey, Jens. Come on in.” 

He walked in. I half expected him to kiss me like he always did when he walked in, but he didn’t. I felt a pang of sadness rush through my body.

I motioned to the couch, “Want to have a seat?” He nodded, shrugged off his jacket and sat down. 

“Jensen, I, um, don’t know how to start this conversation.” Jensen took my hand, “Sweetheart, whatever it is, you can tell me. No matter what, I love you.”

My breath hitched, “I love you too Jensen, this is so hard. I do love you. So much, and I want to be with you. This is just so damn complicated.” 

“Baby, I want to be with you too. I know everything is complicated.” I shook my head, “No, Jensen. I’ve just complicated things more.” 

Jensen looked confused, “Baby, no you haven’t.” I swallowed hard, feeling like I was going to vomit.

“Jensen, I’m pregnant.” The words just slipped out faster than I’d expected. He sat stunned. “What? Are you sure?” I nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I took 3 tests and I realized I haven’t had my cycle in over 2 months. I know it’s yours too.” 

He just sat there and looked at me. I was terrified. The longer the silence between us stretched on, the more my anxiety ran through every scenario it could. 

I couldn’t take the silence any longer, “Jensen. I don’t expect anything from you. I just thought you should know. Nobody will know you’re the father. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

I just sobbed. His silence hurt me more than if he told me he didn’t want the baby. 

His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me close to him, “Shh baby. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We did this, we made this baby together. I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I love this baby. We’re having a baby.” 

He pulled me on his lap and kissed my lips. 

When I leaned back I looked in his eyes. They were full of love and excitement. “You’re not mad?” 

He cupped my face, “Mad? Why would I be mad, baby? I remember telling you at the New Years Eve party I wanted to put a baby in you. Well, I guess I did.” He chuckled. 

“Jensen, what about D?” “We’ve decided to move forward with the divorce. We don’t want to stay together just for the kids and end up hating each other. Baby, you don’t worry about her. You need to keep yourself stress free and healthy for the baby.” He placed his hand on my belly. “How the hell did I get so lucky? I found the love of my life and we’re having a baby.” 

He pulled me to his lips and kissed me softly. His hands trailed up my body and into my hair. He pulled me in deeper as his tongue fought for dominance in my mouth. 

I felt my arousal pooling between my legs. His hands digging into the flesh of my hips, pulling me down onto him. 

Our moans filled the apartment. “Jens take me to our room.” 

He smiled against my mouth, “Yes ma’am.” He lifted me up like I weighed nothing. I protested the whole way. 

He laughed and when we went to the room he gently laid me on the bed. 

As he stood back he looked down at me, “you’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart. I can’t believe we’re having a baby.” 

Before we made love he stopped and chuckled, “Guess we don’t need protection, do we?” I laughed, “No, I guess not.” We made love like it was the first time. 

Everything that weighed us down was gone. The things that kept us separated, gone. Laying in his arms I felt safe and loved. 

“Thank you sweetheart. Thank you for letting me come over and for giving me the best birthday gift ever.” He placed his hand on my belly and kissed my lips. 

“You’re welcome, Jensen. Happy Birthday, baby. I love you.” “I love you too, Darlin.” 

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

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@pughsexual @spnaquakindgdom

@lunaleah @believeinthefireflies95

@chi-raz

[bunnakit]

coming outta left field and talking about something that has nothing to do with me bc i don't have anything better to do with my time right now.

that whole fandom discourse was whack and i'm sorry @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles had to deal with that. there's def been plenty of posts i haven't liked or haven't agreed with in fandom and you shrimply just have to scroll! there's no need to make a response unless you're coming from a genuine place and can have a respectful discussion. if you're coming from an emotional place you just have to say "people like different things" and move on.

i personally am not mutuals with shan because we have a lot of different opinions about things - this is not a dig at shan, she doesn't follow me either prob for the same reason! i think she articulates her posts incredibly well and comes from a very genuine place. i don't know turtles that well bc i haven't been in the space much these days but based on what i've seen she seems much the same.

media analysis is and should be vast and varied, that's what makes it fun, and not everyone is going to share your opinion and people will always interpret things differently based on past experiences, differences in knowledge, etc. they aren't evil for that.

this is what i think is one of the most important things from shan's post -

You don't owe anyone your presence here, and you don't have to express opinions on everything or respond to tags or asks if you don't have anything to say. Sometimes you might just want to take a break from posting, some things in the discourse might just flow right on by you, sometimes you will not have a firm opinion on a debate. You can post as much or as little as you want. You can suddenly decide you don't want to talk about a show anymore. You can not log into your tumblr for days or weeks at a time. Do you, boo!

to add to this, and i know this won't be a very well received statement, if you're finding yourself having these big emotional responses just because someone didn't like your fav it may be time to take a step back and reevaluate your priorities in fandom. as someone that took a break from fandom and dramas in general i highly recommend taking a second and finding your peace again. humans are emotional by design, it's what makes us great, but if you're getting violently wound up about someone else's opinion of a fictional piece of media created for entertainment purposes i think it's time to take a deep breath.

fictional media is art and people can and should always have different opinions about art. yes, even art featuring your favs.

i left the fandom for a long time because Last Twilight deeply hurt my feelings as a disabled person with an incurable disease - but that's on me. i'm sure many people found the message an uplifting one of hope (as i believe it was intended to be.) my personal experiences caused me to have a different take on it - but again that is because of my personal experiences and does not make my opinion of it right or wrong, it simply is.

tldr: i think it's important to remember that there are no correct opinions in fandom; if there were they wouldn't be opinions but irrefutable facts. you need to get used to seeing opinions and reads that differ from your own and embrace the art of filtering unless you feel capable of having a calm and respectful discussion.

i wanted to share my thoughts as someone completely unassociated with shan and turtles from a place of complete neutrality. if you're going to have a discussion have a discussion, if you're just gonna rag on someone because they didn't mindlessly jerk off your fav keep it to your group chat or something, don't be a tar pit.

this being said, get used to seeing things even if you try to filter! it's not perfect, i've filtered out spare me your mercy bc i haven't seen it yet and want to form my own opinions but things have absolutely come across my radar (either in my own tags, clicking links, etc.) it happens, don't be weird about it.

[woniedarlin]

He listens while you yap

pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope

caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)

author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!

HEESEUNG

You explained an article you found earlier, highlighted a point you found especially interesting. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence, glancing up at Heeseung.

He was just staring at you the entire time.

“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.

“I’m sorry,” you added, feeling guilty.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile that immediately put you at ease. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”

He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”

“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased, though you were shy with his words.

He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”

You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”

“Yup,” he said with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”

You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”

Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”

He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”

JAY

You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.

Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.

Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.

“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”

“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.

“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”

Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”

“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”

Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”

Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”

“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”

Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”

“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”

“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”

And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.

JAKE

You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”

Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.

You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”

“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”

Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”

You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”

He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”

Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”

Jake smirked. “You totally would.”

“I’d be saving both of us!”

“You’re hot,”

You froze. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said.

Of course, he had to flirt.

You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”

“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”

You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.

SUNGHOON

You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”

Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”

You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.

But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”

You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”

“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”

Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”

“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”

That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?

He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”

Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”

SUNOO

“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.

You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.

“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”

“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”

You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!

“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”

Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”

Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”

He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”

You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”

JUNGWON

You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.

“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”

Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.

You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.

“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”

He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.

“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”

You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”

He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”

“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”

“Well, someone had to say it!”

Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”

You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”

NI-KI

You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”

“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”

You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”

Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”

“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”

Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.

[alyslittlehaven]

" Love You Like A Bad Habit "

PROLOGUE -- ‘Turf War’

Whenever faced with a civil war inside of Velaris, Azriel is forced to tell his family about the connections he has in circles he wouldn’t dare normally bring to light. In an attempt to get a better understanding of the problem and how to stop it before it becomes too much, Rhysand accompanies his brother to a meeting with one of the infamous drug lords of the city. Does Azriel keep his true hobbies and private life in the dark? Or does his family finally see what his shadows do in the darkest parts of Velaris?

TW: Drugs, violence, death, talks of gangs, NSFW, prostitution (Only mentions of it), Smut, Angst, FWB to lovers, slight slow burn???, mentions of a drug lord, alcohol, addiction, arcane feels fr.

I DO NOT OWN ACOTAR, All rights and characters except for Rahlia and a few others are owned and made by Sarah J Maas.

"Excuse me?" Azriel's jaw tightened as Rhysand finally looked up from his desk, his brows furrowed as his violet eyes scanned over every feature he could find on the shadowsinger.

"Rhys, the shadows are telling me of an upcoming civil issue within the red light district of Velaris. I've heard whispers of fights between pleasure houses and even worse of people." Rhysand blinked, leaning back in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair.

There wasn't much that the red light district asked for or needed, meaning that during some times of peace, the high lord even forgot it existed. It didn't do anything outside of the district, and if anything having something like it lowered the crime rate inside of Velaris. So as long as everyone was happy with what they were given? Everything was fine-- but hearing that it wasn't fine anymore was worrisome.

"Are you suggesting that there might be something of a turf war in Velaris because of the pleasure halls that are being created?" Azriel slowly nodded. His eyes remain glued to the bottom of Rhysands desk. His mind racing. "An informant of mine in the district has also made me aware that some drugs have been leaked onto the streets due to the higher population in the area. More people are moving out of the district and into places such as the Rainbow. or just regular towns." Rhysand let out a hum, his chin resting on his hand as he looked at the papers sprawled out on the surface of his desk.

"-and why are we just now hearing about this? If a possible turf war is about to break out it must have been simmering for quite some time. I am aware I let the district be but you would think that they would come to their highlord for help, don't you think Azriel?" The shadowsinger carefully shook his head. His eyes locked with his brothers as a cup of tea appeared in front of Rhys.

"Speak, Azriel. You know you are allowed to do so brother."

Azriel's feet shifted, his wings tightening behind his back as he stood up straight, his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke.

"With all due respect Rhysand, the red district isn't the same as the rest of Velaris. You haven't attempted to reach out and create bonds with the lords in high places there due to our...reputation with the people. If it had been simmering we wouldn't have heard it's because the inner circle and the government of Velaris haven't been fully trusted by those in the red court." Rhysand nodded slowly.

Azriel had told him nothing but the truth, no matter how offended he was by the reasoning he understood where the spymaster was coming from. His brother's rigid posture caught him off guard as he looked back up. A brow raised as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "I see, but might I ask why you seem so tense, brother?" Azriel clicked his tongue, looking at the ground for a moment as he thought of how to word the next thing that came out of his mouth.

Azriel had spent hundreds of years in his position, making sure he knew every crack and crevice of the night court to make his job easier. Rhysand and the inner circle were aware he had informants in the nastiest of places just to make sure the wellbeing of the people and his family was secure. They would understand it, it was only his job after all.

"I have scheduled a meeting with one of the local drug lords in the red district. She runs the pleasure hall of Otaria where the refuge is. I believe you are aware of her reputation." Rhysand blinked, staring at Azriel in curiosity as he continued on.

Azriel took a deep breath, walked up to the desk in the middle of the room, and pointed at the small map of Velaris. "I think it would be a good idea for you to join me, show the people of the court's shadows that you care about their wellbeing as well and not just the people of the rainbow. Form a relationship with the lords and people....no matter how horrible they are." Rhysand's eyes watched Azriels hand carefully as he pointed to the Otaria hall. The pit of anxiety in his stomach only got worse as he thought about traveling to that part of the court. A small huff left the high lord's figure as his thoughts raced. The lord of those halls was said the be a disgusting male who had come from riches to fulfill his worst desires, putting the women in the hall through absolute hell just for some cash. To show the people he cared- he needed to throw all of his morals away to meet one of the worst men in Velaris? How could he do that? How could Azriel live with doing that?

"You wish for me to see an old, vile drug lord to prove a point to the people? Do you know what you are asking of me Azriel?" Rhysands tone was sharp, his words dripping with disgust as he watched his brother pull his hand back. His brows furrowed together.

"I'll have you know, they aren't as bad as you think." Rhysand tilted his head, confusion seeping into his bones as Azriel stared down at him. "Sometimes you need to realize that being High Lord isn't all about reputation, Rhysand. There should be no reason to keep you away from fixing the inner workings of your court." He was taken aback by Azriels harsh words, uncertainty filling his thoughts as his brother motioned for him to get up. "Are you coming?"

Rhysand nodded, standing up and brushing off his pants.

----

Disgusting.

That was the only word Rhysand could think of as he looked around the red district, people sitting on the sides of the street drinking ale out of the bottles, so many homeless people that his stomach turned just thinking about how selfish it was to own technically three houses. Everything he hated knowing about his city right there, was bare before him as if it was it's first day in the world as a babe.

Feyre would hate that he was here, that this place existed. She hated everything about this as well, her people dying of starvation- indulging in bad habits such as drugs that kept fathers away and crippled. The children playing in the road were happy, but a certain thinness to them that he couldn't bear to look at. The kind of bare that reminded him of his mate when he first met her.

Rhysand brought his sleep up to his nose as a man blew some sort f smoke in their direction, his lungs quickly filled with the burning sensation and the skunk-like smell that invaded his personal bubble. Luckily as they continued walking the smell dispersed, Rhysands brows furrowed as he looked at how comfortable Azriel was. He quickened his pace for a moment so he was now walking beside his brother. His violet eyes scanned their surroundings.

"These are the things you are made unaware of as a high lord when you look at the whole court and not just pieces at a time." Azriels voice was low, his words carefully calculated as he spoke to Rhysand. His hazel eyes finding his brothers with a certain kind of pity he hasn't seen in awhile.

Rhysands eyes darted around to the multitude of different things around them, his eyes finally landing on the large building a minute or two away with women and men alike walking in and out. The closer he got to the building the more of that odd stench he could smell. He knew what it was. he was a teen once- rebelling by smoking occasionally with the mirth root they had found in Illyria- but that strong of a smell must have meant something bad right? "How much has the population gone up by?" Azriel raised a brow, smirking slightly as he side-eyed Rhysand.

"Isn't the high lord supposed to know that information?" Rhysand rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he gently hit his brother's arm. Chuckling lightly. It wasn't his fault that he had no clue, the red light district worked on its own without any help from him or the inner circle. So many different things happened here that were illegal but were somehow unchecked and working well. He didn't like to admit it, but a good amount of the economy was working solely off of the money the pleasure halls and drug lords in this section of Velaris made from their stores. Hell- even most of the apothecaries and medicinal shops got their stock from the red light district, so as harmful as it was it worked well for all parties.

Azriel whistled slightly as he stepped over a pothole, the door of the Otaria opened up for him. The bell boy curtsying in the presence of Azriel and Rhysand. A smile on his face.

It wasn't like anything Rhysand imagined.

When he thought about the pleasure halls he was expecting cheap hotel rooms and the smell to be unbearable. That it was going to be unsanitary- disgusting- but what he just walked into was the exact opposite.

Booths were lined up on both ends of the hall, a large desk sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by men and women alike who were paying for pleasure. Their hands were in little baggies that carried their coin. Azriel barreled on, his footing never easing as he approached the desk. Rhysand on the other hand, slowed down to admire everything around him, the intricate carvings in what seemed to be the marble pillars were something only he could imagine. The man and women in the booths sitting beside each other flirting away with scandalous outfits on- most blue. Azriel looked back, smiling at his brother with an amused glint in his eye.

"How long has it been since you last visited the Otaria?" Rhysand shrugged, slowly catching up to his brother as he finally remembered why they were there.

"Hundreds of years I'm sure. I wasn't a big fan of the owner Tarly...It seems he has stepped up his game." Azriel let out a hum, stopping in front of the desk as he watched the woman behind it freeze as she stared at Rhysand. Her bright red eyes widened as she took in his form. Azriel slipped her a red coin before the woman cautiously picked it up and examined it. Dropping It back in Azriels hand when she was done and closing her fist.

"Ser Azriel. It's a pleasure to see you but...you are aware of the Masters rules on high lords, yes?" Azriel gently smiled at the woman, patting her hand with his other and pulling away. "She is aware of his presence I assure you. Just a small meeting." Rhysand lifted a brow, looking at the two with pure confusion.

She?

Azriel turned back to the high lord, his smile falling into a thin line as he spoke. "It's probably a good thing Tarly doesn't run this place anymore then. C'mon, we have places to be. Thank you Kashir." The woman nodded, bowing slightly as they walked around the desk and toward the door at the end of the hall.

"She doesn't?" Azriel laughed at Rhysands incredulous tone, shaking his head. "Mother no, he died long ago. One of his employees got tired of his treatment." Rhysand nodded slowly. Carefully eyeing his friend.

"The Otaria is under the ownership of Lady Rahlia. She was the one who killed him but it gave her the respect for her fellows to push her to take the building. Now it's high-end- or something like that." Azriel furrowed his brows, looking away from his brother before clearing his throat.

Soon enough they reached the door, their steps in sync as they stepped in. The smell of smoke instantly hitting Rhysands nose and making him flinch. He could barely see- the dizzying smell coming almost over powering as he covered his nose. Azriel took a moment to get used to it, the smoke filling the room and leaving it in a foggy mess. As the smoke cleared Rhysand blinked quickly. His senses over powered as the large, black hound growled at them. He took a step back, staring wide-eyed at this huge beast who stalked toward them slowly, the hair on its neck standing up in alert. As soon as the hound was about to bark a loud whistle rang through the room. The dog immediately sitting down with it's head tilted at them.

"Down girl,"

Rhysands eyes followed the voice, a woman around his height walking into the room from what seemed to be a bathroom. Cigarette in hand as she made her way toward them. Her blood-red dress clung to her features yet hung loosely, looking like something Mor would wear.

"Forgive her, she's trained to bite." A smirk lay on her face as she took in Rhysand, her brown eyes raking over every part of him as she ignored Azriel. Rhysand swallowed hard, his usual roughness gone due to the new surroundings he was in. His own violet eyes sought out Azriel to help him silently. Azriel crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs, the woman's eyes following the shadowsinger with a familiar gaze. "I was told you needed my assistance and absolutely wonderful knowledge...when you said your precious high lord would be joining I was quite rushed to clean my halls." The woman walked behind the desk, sitting down in the comfortable-looking chair.

"Yes, we have heard some very disturbing whispers about a possible turf war happening. I thought you might have something to say about it." Azriel crossed his arms as Rhysand sat down. The poor high lord was taken off guard by the variety of pillows and tapestries that decorated the office.

"I might have," She slowly inhaled the contents of her cigarette, maintaining eye contact with the two of them as she laid back in her seat and blew the smoke out. "Depends which kind of turf war you are speaking of. It's not unusual for drug lords to get territorial around these parts but it dies quick like a man meeting a maid- but if you're talking about the turf war going on between the Junes and Crasters..." She smirked, holding out a box of cigs to the both of them.

"The Crasters?" Rhysand finally spoke up, gently shaking his head no at the offer and crossing his ankle at his knee. "Haven't they been passive for years though? What could possibly start them going into a turf war?" The woman eyed him, her usual smirk falling for a quick moment.

"Ah yes- forgive me, high lord. My name is Lady Rahlia. I am not a history book." Rahlia rolled her eyes, setting down the box and sighing. "You are wrong, they are the most aggressive people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. They have been banned from this establishment since the moment I got it in my wallet." Rhysand stared at the desk. His brows furrowed.

"Is he pouting?" She snickered, looking toward Azriel. A soft clicking noise came from her as she stood back up and rounded the table.

"Oh...big bad Spymaster can't say what he wants because he is in the company of his brother and high lord." She rolled her eyes, her smirk falling into a look of distaste.

"I hate two-faced royals." The corner of azriels mouth twitched, his wings shifting behind him so he got comfortable.

"I'm aware." Rahlia leaned down, grabbing Azriels face roughly in between her thumb and pointer finger. Scowling at the man.

"Then speak, boy." Azriel glared at her. Rolling his eyes as she tore her hand away from him.

Rhysand watched carefully, a hand on the dagger hidden in his belt. He looked at Azriel to confirm if he was okay- his brother just sat there. Staring at her for a moment before sighing and speaking.

"Just a bit, he pouts when he doesn't turn out as smart as he thinks."

Rahlia smiled, mouthing thank you to Azriel before moving to her bookcase to grab a bundle of papers. Throwing them on the Shadowsingers lap before sitting down once more. Azriel carefully looked through them. Brows raised as he looked up at her from the bundle. "What are these?" Rahlia propped her chin up against her fist like a bored child, looking at him through reddish eyes.

"Intercepted letters via bird...news...reports. You name it. everything you need to know about the most recent events. I had a feeling you'd be visiting." Azriel nodded tensely, standing up with the 'gift' and looking at Rhysand. "We are leaving."

Rahlia chuckled, the hound rounding the table to sit next to her. Rahlias nails gently scratched at the animal's head, listening to the huff she gave when Rahlia hit just the right spot. Rhysand stood up, walking to the door with Azriel as dread filled his stomach. A gut feeling that he was missing so much of what was truly happening in the room around him. As Azriel opened the door the woman's voice spoke up once more, a sickly sweet tone hidden behind each word she uttered.

"Come visit again soon, spymaster. Your talents are wasted at a council table."

[lobotomy-lady]

How did you figure out you were autistic? I know this is gonna sound ignorant because I am ignorant but from my very limited interactions with those on the spectrum you act pretty differently. You are heavily sarcastic and seem to understand when someone is joking in your asks versus not even over text. Idk. I know there's like levels and stuff but you seem pretty socially aware and funnier than most so now I'm just like what makes you different from a neurotypical? I tried googling about autism and it seems a lot of high functioning people have like sensory issues and are picky eaters but like, is that it ? Just curious

I am not self dx so I never "figured it out", I was diagnosed aspergers (back when that was the dx for high functioning tism) when I was 6, my mom took me to a psychiatrist. at that time I was selectively mute-ppl at school thought I was incapable of speech bc between ages 4 to 9 didnt talk at all except at home to family. I had frequent meltdowns due to emotional regulation problems and also cuz of severe sensory issues (sound, the feel of clothing which led me to wear the same outfit every day for years, temperature). Even when I started talking a little more at school I was TERRIBLE socially. I was made fun of constantly & didn't get what i was doing wrong but they always thought I was weird & they thought it was funny that I didn't understand that I was being made fun of until they started laughing & even then i didnt get what i was doing wrong. It didnt help that i was 5'9 and 140 pounds by age 9 I was very aware I stood out a lot both physically & behaviorally

So yeah like most kids on the spectrum I was bullied relentlessly for the childhood years due to my social ineptitude and general awkwardness & it continued until I managed to group in w/ the other unpopular "weird" girls with bad social skills in junior high. Still friends with some of them. So i wasnt as much of a target then tho I was still gossiped about, ppl started a rumor that I never bathed due to my habit of wearing the same thing every day (I had multiple versions of that outfit but not as if they would know). Special interests were a huge thing too obv. I read probably 8 hrs a day mostly books related to space or when I was younger dolphins.

But anyways, bc of my experiences when I was younger I knew I had to learn to assimilate, or mask as I later learned it was called. I studied that shit like it was my PhD. I learned how to talk enough (but not too much!) I learned how to make eye contact (but not too much!!), learned how to be playful but not be rude, learned to run to a bathroom before having a meltdown in public, learned to buy different clothes out of similar material, to not be seen eating the same exact food every day for months. Learned how to not infodump about an interest unless I knew the person cared about it. I had learned most of this well enough by halfway through high school to stop being seen as a total freak, & by adulthood I was not only not BAD at socializing but actually GOOD at it, tho it still was (and is) exhausting & requires a lot of recovery time alone.

Anyways tldr basically my point is the person you perceive now was constructed out of necessity to avoid being a pariah forever which is what I knew would happen if I didnt change. I was an autistic kid & now I'm an adult who very easily passes as allistic. I've been doing it so long that most of it doesn't take much effort anymore. I've always been good at learning things. sarcasm and humor can be learned & I've been at this awhile needless to say

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

i almost bailed on new year’s because i was sleepy and the weather was horrendous, but it was three short blocks from my apartment and i’d said i’d go so i really had no excuse; when i got there for a moment i was worried it was populated exclusively by Fashionable Gay People, but then i peered into another room and found the mutual aid contingent and was relieved even as i remembered with amusement a few parties ago, back in october, someone remarking, not harshly, on our collective habit of going to parties to talk to the same 10-20 people we already know. the first thing i did in 2025 was go see no, the gael garcia bernal movie about the campaign to vote no on the 1988 plebiscite on pinochet; the second was family brunch; the third was watching the shop around the corner and confirming i am truly jimmy stewart pilled now. thursday i got a great haircut and hung out in the mulberry street library reading js&mn (i have most recently arrived at the portion after strange comes home from the war) and met a friend for dinner before seeing teeth, my second time getting around to a michael r. jackson musical just in time for closing week; not a perfect show but a wild time and i’m very glad he gets to be out there doing his thing. friday i got pleasantly fucked up and went out dancing until 3:30 in the morning with like ten people all of whom once again know each other because we like making it possible for people to get free stuff, which i guess one day i will accept is just my life now but on some level has not yet sunk in. i thought a lot as i have been thinking a lot about how for my entire twenties and then some loneliness was the defining color in my emotional landscape and i am still awkward and neurotic and shy but that just isn’t true anymore, when i thought it would be true forever. an absurdly cool trans girl i know told me she loved my hair and i went to sleep having achieved my step count for friday and saturday mostly in the span of about four hours. saturday i thought was to be for laundry and sleep but n. said a movie was playing he remembered loving so i made it into the city (after laundry) to watch todo mudo, a 1976 political thriller with a somewhat inscrutable plot (to me, knowing nothing about italian politics after the fall of rome other than that mussolini happened) and impeccable vibes, and back at home i managed to muster up the will for full body day to hit my fifth workout of the week, because i am very tough and brave.

today i tutored for the first time in two weeks and screwed up what was supposed to by my second by forgetting my own schedule, but it’s fine. i reviewed & resolutioned & brought my mom a change of clothes at the hospital and made a little page i can duplicate in my planning app that looks just like my little notebook weekly log pages except it lives in my ipad :) i have had an extremely good staycation and already have a series of nice things to look forward to in the days ahead. i feel very lucky here at the dawn of 2025. i keep thinking that, over and over.

[irrealisms]

this is still true of me (that i am more sensitive around therapsychiatry stuff recently) and it’s. idk. it can get really isolating to be a psych survivor. it feels like there’s medication and therapy positivity everywhere sometimes. and I don’t want to begrudge that because I know it helps people—hell, it’s helped me immensely! but it hurts for it to be everywhere. it feels like there is a megaphone aimed at me going JUST KEEP TRYING. DON’T GIVE UP. MAYBE THE PAST TEN YEARS OF THERAPY AND MEDICATION HAVENT FIXED YOU BUT ITS JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVENT FOUND ~THE ONE~. well maybe i want to give up. okay? maybe i want to give up. there was a good post I saw recently about physical disability and choosing not to go to PT and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. but also just. idk. i had what i think might have been my first real FlashbackTM at about the same time as i made the above post. a week and a half ago I almost ran away impulsively to a different state bc I was convinced if i came home they’d be waiting with handcuffs to take me back to the hospital. since last august my life has been going incredibly downhill. negative spiral. I know why for some of it but I don’t know why I started getting more sensitive abt therapsych stuff in November. but what am I supposed to do with that when all the advice is “have you tried therapy/meds?” YES! and one of my biggest fears is trying them again!!! they fucked me up and— I can’t even say “you can’t make me go back” because it’s not true, it would be pretty easy to make me go back, but—I don’t want to. okay? I don’t want to. and it’s unfair of me but it hurts sometimes to see people who were uncomplicatedly helped. It’s all jealous resentful upset maybe even angry. I don’t want to call seven therapists who all turn me down for being too complicated a case for them and then the eighth I go every week and stare at the wall for an hour and come home in tears because im too scared to talk to them and then as soon as I open up they baker act me. I can’t do that again. Im tired of it being the only choice I have if I ever want to feel better or even just “not suicidal”. I don’t want to hear anymore about how helpful it is. I know that’s bad but I don’t care right now. Im tired of therapy and meds being everywhere and I can’t avoid reminders without also avoiding things that help me and/or bring me joy. Normally this is the sort of thing I put in private discord vent channels but for whatever reason I’ve been posting on tumblr today? So you all get this. I don’t know. I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep and I’ve been physically sick for a week and I’m not getting better so you all get my ventblogging. can someone invent a world that doesn’t have therapists in it

i've been....notably more sensitive and easily upset around therapsychiatry stuff recently and i am genuinely unsure why. i haven't been in therapy in significantly over a year now. it's coming up on two years since my hospitalization. today i got upset over three different things about this and i think this is to some extent me being more easily upset than normal and i don't know why. well other than "i've been more easily upset about literally everything recently". but it's been notably worse wrt therapsych stuff! my next post is gonna be another more serious and thoughtful post but first i just want to do a more emotional "idk why this has been more of a sore subject recently and i wish it weren't" :/

[alchemiclee]

do you ever feel like some people dont understand the difference between pity and sympathy/empathy? (people don't even know the difference between those two, to be fair) giving someone sympathy or having empathy for them is not the same as pitying them. someone trying to reach out and seeking or expecting sympathy from you or wanting empathy isn't wanting you to pity them!!!!!! dont mix the two up 😭

[dkettchen]

she would've told them unlike her canon! version who decided not to be an ally smh

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

questioning sexuality is so exhausting

[bandsandwristbands]

Vent post

[chrisbangs]

hello... (and bye ig 👋)

[mermaidsirennikita]

People are ridiculously entitled and it’s genuinely so disheartening. Books are someone’s ART. You don’t just get to alter a name in someone else’s creative work. (I’m appalled people out there think this is remotely acceptable - writers are not court jesters nor do they exist to please everyone - no human being nor their creative work does, in fact!) Thanks for putting your various responses out there! Here’s hoping people learn to respect and appreciate artists and creators once again

Quoth Nora Roberts:

I am not here to be a slave to certain reader’s wants, needs, whims. Again, I write what I write, and these are MY characters, in my books. Not yours. They are yours to enjoy or not, but they belong to me, they come from me...

You don’t have to agree, but I’m not writing for your particular point of view. Again, I’ve explained my reasons for this. I won’t do so again. My characters, my books, my decision. If you want something else, read something else.

And yes, I said that, too. Blast away, it changes nothing. I am not obliged to meet an individual’s demands.

So.

First off:

If you're really super chill about the idea of being able to change what writers write just because you didn't like a detail you think is small and irrelevant, I would sincerely encourage you to read La Nora's full thoughts on similar issues... and yeah, I'm gonna equate something as "small" as a name with what Nora's talking about here. Because it is ALL the author's domain. I've never personally subscribed to the idea that a work "isn't yours anymore" once it's out in the world. The way people interpret and interact with it isn't yours, sure. But it's still your creation, and you should be the only person with control over the content.

... and sometimes, I, as a reader, don't like what authors do with their content. I get it. I don't like that Lisa Kleypas edited her work years after publishing it, because I'm big on the "own what you wrote originally even if it's uncomfy" train... (for the most part--editing the fetishization of Cam and Kev would've made sense to me). And I don't think there's anything wrong with readers pointing out problematic shit in a writer's work, offering critique in an open forum, as Smart Bitches, Trashy books did when reading Hello, Stranger, which I speculate may have prompted some of Lisa's edits.

But! I can't say that it would ever be my right as a reader to, say, use future technology to tell my reading device "edit out the times Cam says shit that reads super fetishized". It's just kind of repellent to me to imagine rewriting someone's work in any way without their permission. Fuck, I don't even like the idea of estates releasing sequels or revised versions of books unless the author indicated that such was in their wishes in their will. (See: the TWO official Gone with the Wind sequels/prequels/whatever authorized by Margaret Mitchell's estate.)

We, as readers, have our lanes. The writers have theirs. And sometimes, as writers, they do tiny things or BIG things in their lanes that we dislike. (I love Tiffany Reisz's Original Sinners series, for the most part. I really, REALLY hate the most recent book in the series. HATE. IT. But the only thing I can do about that shit is just pretend that book never happened, which I actually can fairly efficiently because I do in fact control what my brain does. Or, seek out books that give me what that series didn't with that most recent book. Sierra Simone's do a bangin' job.) But you know... Not only do I not think it is safe for me to merge into their lane... I don't want writers to feel like they have to submit to demand and give away pieces of their work in order to keep selling.

(And honestly? For the vast majority, I don't think it would make enough of a difference anyway--writers are often sold bills of goods with new strategies or tech. "This will change the way you sell books". Most writers won't ever be able to write full time anyway, and I find the way that this fantasy that you'll be able to do otherwise with THIS TECH optimizing your writing time, or THIS SUBSCRIPTION increasing the eyeballs that will see your book... Scammy. Not all of it's bad! But the selling strategy that you'll make more money... If you're selling on KU, if five extra people buy your book you're still making pennies, so it's gotta be more than one thing that converges to create the sale, and a lot of that, I gotta say, is word of mouth and people just LIKING YOUR SHIT. And I'd argue that they're more likely to like your shit if you're invested as a writer.)

Second:

No need to thank me! I honestly think that the majority of readers do appreciate what writers do (or don't feel either way about it and just read like people have always read lol) but I don't know. I can't really tell what it is--the sort of "fandom" that's been created around books (and like, author fan clubs and such have always existed, but obviously the accessibility is so different), new tech developing very rapidly when for centuries books were relatively stagnant technologically speaking, the fanficification of EVERY type of media it feels like... But the sense of entitlement that certain readers feel does seem to have grown. Or maybe it's simply become more visible. I mean, Nora Roberts has from the dawn of her writing career taken off had fans that can communicate with her, and I'm sure many have written letters like "Go give these characters a baby :(".

My biggest thing is always going to be this: some books ain't gonna be for you. There are books that sound so Caroline. I read them, and for whatever reason--writing style, one character choice, something ephemeral I can't name--they aren't. Everyone else loves these books. I'd love to love these books. I'd love to discuss these books. I'm not in the party. And that's FINE. Not every party is going to be a party I'm down for! One of my best friends loooooves Tessa Bailey and Tessa-like contemporaries. Tessa, by and large, doesn't work for me. So my friend and I can't discuss a lot of books in depth. Do I wish historicals worked for her so that I could nerd out with her? Sure! But I can't make something that doesn't work for her work for her, and I can't make Tessa's books work for me.

And I know that people will be like "it's just a name bitch", but... it's a slippery slope to me, just like ALL of AI and AI-related tech has been a slippery slope. Like, y'all said AI wasn't gonna be a big deal and would just make things easier, and people are now selling AI-written books under their names. Everyone said that authors would have control over how AI interacted with their books, and books are being scraped for AI on the daily.

I do not want anyone to have final control over what is and isn't in a book but the person who wrote the book. I do not want writers to feel like they need to cede any amount of control over the copy in that book over to readers in order to succeed.

And I honestly think it would be a lot healthier for everyone involved if we as readers (viewers, general audiences) just accepted that we don't get everything we want, and creatives are not here to dance to our tune. They are people, and they want to tell the stories they want to tell. Your power? Is in your dollar. If you don't like that shit, don't buy it. If you don't want to support it... don't! Fuck, if you want to talk shit on the internet about how the most recent book in the series was absolutely not for you, that's your right, too.

I don't want you fucking with a single word on the page, though. Feel free to go write your own shit--prosper! But that part of what Nora said that rings true to me most is "they come from me". These books come from writers. You have them because of those writers. So, I don't know, dude. Just take what's there, and if you dislike it, spit it out and move on to the thing you will like. Authors aren't churn factories to produce what you want, and ROMANCE as a genre, however commercial it is and however much it does have that One Rule that defines it as a genre... Is still something that writers should be allowed to experiment with. That's the work writers put in. The work readers put in? Finding shit that works for us. And I'm telling you... With a little practice, it ain't hard. How do y'all think I have all these books to recommend? Lmao

[jakeperalta]

I never really got it when people would talk about getting the ick but alas. now I do

[silverselfshippingchaos]

ugghhh wintertime sucks!! I'm sad and tired and sad all the time.. I need a nap.. and f/o cuddles.. and another nap..