#and unlearning some stuff too

[bucky-boychik-barnes]

One thing I am really appreciating about Stories with Sapphire is that almost no stories are from white folk. The host herself is Filipino, while the guest of the linked episode is an Oglala Lakota writer and journalist.

[goatmilksoda]

The mythologizing some adults do about childhood and how it's this perfect and innocent time bothered me as a kid and continues to bother me now because tbh I believe that once we gain consiousness we are building on ourselves. We don't loose anything. You at 5 years old and you now are the same person. You were human then and still are now. You didn't change so much as the world changed around you. As you grow up, you're taken more seriously, given more independence and more work, but most importantly to this, you're told, sometimes indirectly, that you're "too old" to be experiencing and enjoying things, which is a total myth.

You can still create carefree nostalgia for your future self. Go on a bike ride. Put silly posters in your room. Climb on an empty playground. "Too old" "too mature" are lies.

You never changed, the world around you did. Don't be a coward. If you want childlike joy then literally make it. The grass is still as green as it was on the first day of 3rd grade. It's out there. It exists. I promise.

[angeltannis]

girl help the TikTok teens with no reading comprehension have gotten hold of the Overtwatch characters and are calling for Symmetra to be killed in canon because she’s a “gentrifier”

[whoviandoodler]

I can't stress enough how important it is to draw characters with physical traits you find ugly, unattractive and/or repulsive, especially if you yourself share those traits. Nothing will make you more accepting of diversity in yourself and others that engaging with it during the creative process and giving it to characters you love.

[classicjdog]

CURSE MY FUCKING SHITARSE INTERNET I JUST WANT TO PLAY SOME FUCKING TEKKEN GAAAAHHHHHHHH

REINA IS SO FUCKING SICK AND I CAN'T PLAY HER AGAINST REAL PPL I'M STUCK FIGHTING THE STUPID AI FUCK

[akkivee]

it makes me laugh knowing the way kuukou disciplines people is because it’s the way shakku disciplined him lol

[xxsexycoolxx]

seeing nostalgia based "2014 tumblr grunge" revival is so fucking weird to me like. i was there i saw it happen and it was really unhealthy on so many levels, the whole aesthetic based on romanticizing self-destruction, thin and pale "sad girls" who get drunk or high to cope, smoke to die, dont eat, wear black and fishnets and jean jackets. and its that i see repeated amongst the young people and teens . i dont know if there were or are more inclusive "tumblr grunge" spaces, i for sure was mainly exposed to a culture of "killing yourself is cool if you are pretty enough"

[jytan2018]

I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Energy Check~ for wherever you are right now

This was completely unplanned but frankly spirit doesn't give a fuck about my plans. So if this found you, here are some messages you probably need right now-

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pile 1: Ooh.. as I was preparing to start your reading, I saw 11:11 as the Chariot card showed up for you. This. Tells me that you are pretty strongly connected to your divine path right now, which simply means that you're doing something that's keeping you in alignment, sweet pile one! Good job! Keep going down this road because you WILL stumble upon amazing experiences and people! This message is coming through quite strongly. Now, isn't that lovely? Hehe.

Here's the thing, though.. Although you're actually IN alignment with your greatest timeline and life, you seem to be completely UNAWARE of the fact! You might be going through the necessary purging emotionally and/or mentally as a result of this alignment since the "old stuff" has no more room in your new vibration anymore. So, you've probably had to go through some intense endings and/or tower moments in life lately and THIS has left you feeling really, really sad. Maybe even depressed. For some of you, if that's the case, please seek help, sweet soul. It doesn't have to be therapy but even as simple as talking to a trusted loved one, you know? Or even journaling about it could help if you're into it. It seems like you could use a new perspective on the things you're going through right now. I'm sensing that you might be feeling emotionally numb right now too, but that's because you've been doing a lot of emotional processing lately AND IT'S ALL PAYING OFF. I just need you to know that. You just can't see it right now because you're slap dead in the middle of the storm, and I'm looking at it from a bird's eye view, you know?

While you're purging old stuff, I also see you making your way through an old core belief - "I gotta work hard to be deserving of anything because I inherently don't" Or something along those lines. You may have started purging this belief as a result of life showing you that it's simply not something worth keeping alive inside you. Maybe recently, you caught yourself overworking yourself to death only to receive very little in return (in any area of your life - relationships included) and this experience helped you wake up to this unhelpful belief of yours. You're unlearning this belief as we speak. It's not easy though, but I CAN assure you, you're acing it.

If you find yourself worrying too much about anything and everything or simply feeling a general fear, just know that it's a normal reaction to having things uprooted in your life. Life, right now, is asking you to do your best to focus on what's right in front of you because if you do this, the future is guaranteed to sort itself out. I promise.

I love you so much, pile 1. I see all your hard work and am rooting for you SO hard, bro. Love and light.

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Pile 2: Seems like to me that y'all have been STUCK in a particular pattern for a while now, maybe years? For some of you folks reading? Let me spell it out for you what this pattern looks like to me - an imbalance of the mind and heart. Too much mind and too little heart. Maybe none at all.

I can't seem to tap into the root of this imbalance, maybe because it's different for each of you reading, OR maybe it's not relevant to us right now because you can simply begin to address this imbalance as you see it in your day-to-day. But I sense that you're really good at addressing things, so once you're conscious of this pattern going on subtly in the background, running your life, you can really do something about this. This pattern may show up as you struggling with feeling fear, and this is blocking you off to one very important thing fear is here to show us, and that is how to support ourselves. If we are afraid of something we desire and have a healthy relationship with fear, we go for the desire while caretaking our fear. I read a quote the other day, it said "Do that thing you love but if you find that you're scared, then go do it scared." The point I'm trying to make is, fear isn't going to go away on its own, it's you who will simply expand your ability to hold space for it AND your desires equally. When you figure out how to do this, magic will happen in your life. You'll find that your unwillingness to caretake your fear only gave you more things to be afraid of (because, hello, Law Of Attraction *lol*), BUT you'll also find that when you radically start taking responsibility for your fear(s), you'll be able to act from a wiser space and be your full badass self. You'll find that there are so many things you CAN do and so much life you CAN live. Everything you've wanted to start doing in life will start to happen almost seamlessly. It WILL surprise you big time. You're currently making your way through an important part of your healing, and that is to hold yourself in all your glory. To hold all parts of yourself, even the ones that are scared shitless. Once you've integrated this segment of your healing, SO many doors will unlock for you. Sweet soul, you have no clue of JUST HOW MANY. And this… is probably because you manifest with your heart primarily (meaning you feel things deeply and so you unknowingly tap into the frequency of what you want easily) and your fear is keeping you stuck in your head, which means you're only 40% of the full You right now, PRIOR the healing of c. You might even feel it sometimes. You might feel like you're only a shell of a person (been there myself, you're not alone in this!). Listen to that feeling. Your truth lies in there. You're meant to be the 100% you, and I see that you're already halfway there!

I love you so much, pile 2, sending you so much light and love. Hope you find the resources you need to make it through to your new life where you live in more love than fear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 3: Man… y'all been fighting for your lives, huh? I see that you may be in the midst of a lot of divinely evoked darkness? Lol, I literally heard that - divinely evoked darkness. Maybe you're going through a dark night of the soul, perhaps? Whatever your're going through though, it seems like you've been hanging on for dear life.

Some good news for you- no matter the circumstances you're in right now (be it good, bad, or terrible), you've been doing all the work necessary to keep your head above water and have been diligently nurturing your own light, positivity, and essence. THAT'S incredible resilience, sweet pile 3, and I'm really proud of you! It's not easy to keep an open heart through bad times, and that's such a grand achievement in my eyes. UGH, BEAUTIFUL.

Your energy SCREAMS transition period vibes. You seem to be neither in your "old" timeline nor in the new one yet. You're sorta hanging in the middle right now. I see the Hanged Man in the third eye as I tell you this. Feels like you're in the void right now, and things just seem… bleh. Boring. Colorless. This is probably because you're already done with the ugly part of the process, "the divine shakeups", the loss, and the purge. Think… the bland but peaceful feeling you feel after having an intense ugly crying session, you know? Yeah, you're energetically there right now. You'll probably be here for a while longer because you've let go of MAJOR stuff, pile 3. Did you let go of people recently, maybe? Or that old bad habit, perhaps? That was the purge, so to speak. And now you're in the aftermath of it all, the uncomfortable but necessary calm.

-Side note: You might've struggled to embody your divine feminine earlier, but the timeline you're entering right now is the exact opposite of that. You might be attracted towards things that will help you nurture your own divine feminine right now. Give into it. Nurture patience, stillness, and compassion for self. It will HOPEFULLY speed up the void period if you consciously take part in it, you know?-

You're quite emotionally intelligent, and it has guided you throughout the whole process, and it also seems like it ain't your first rodeo in the process of proverbial death and rebirth. Good on you because you're doing a real good job keeping your calm through venturing into the unknown. You know what? You remind me of Elsa from Frozen, taking on the unknown like it belongs to her. You are such a queen, omg.

Yep, all that's left to do now is celebrate yourself, pile 3! Try your best to embrace this period, the void, and you'll be on your way to your next happy adventure! Love and light, sweet soul. Thanks for sharing your energy with me today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[theweeklydiscourse]

It’s really funny how much people misremember certain aspects of ATLA and then proclaim to the internet stuff that either never happened or is extremely distorted with absolute certainty. For example, today I saw a person claiming that whole point of Katara’s character arc was unlearning the parentified behaviours she developed in wake of her mother’s death. That a huge part of Katara’s arc was a confrontation of how that trauma fundamentally shaped her maternal tendencies.

The thing is though…WE the audience, can recognize that the parentification Katara experienced was something that was really straining for her, but the TEXT doesn’t. The audience (or at least certain parts of the audience) can identify that her maternal tendencies were indicative of a responsibility that she took on far too young and subjected her to unnecessary pressure and stress. There are flashes of recognition maybe, but for the most part, the show doesn’t actually confront the negative impact that Katara’s maternal role had on her.

Katara never truly unlearns the maternal behaviours that put so much pressure on her because the text doesn’t see it as a bad thing. Arguably, the text doesn’t see much of a problem with the emotional labour Katara takes on and how that labour goes unreciprocated for the most part (particularly from her canon love interest). We see some reflections, but it’s not enough to support a reading of the text where that element is actually extremely obvious and a prominent point in her character arc.

We’re not the ones “watching the show with our eyes closed”, I think you’re just misremembering the canon progression of Katara’s arc to avoid confronting a real issue in the text.

[aurae-rori]

Wanna ask if you have any headcannons for aventio modern au

( cause I am obsessed with modern aus)

hellyeah brother i'm here to serve the masses

hcs about ratio:

still a doctor still has 8 phds

knows about student debt and hates it with a burning passion

has a duck keychain that he puts on his keychain with all of his keys like the keys to his house

once crushed a soda can in his hands during his student years bcs he was that fucking mad about the homework questions not being stated in a clear manner (he just like me fr)

has several duck plushies in his bed and theyre all named after either greek philosophers or roman politicians

can speak latin fluently and mutters curse words and creative expressions in latin during the classes that he teaches because he is that pissed off

used to be a full time doctor, but decided to turn to teaching instead after some time

hyper-empathy due to childhood neglect (he just like me fr)

eyebags that he covers up with makeup, he still has those from his student years and cant fucking get them to leave no matter how many hours he sleeps for

enjoys occasionally a rum & coke

really likes lattes and london fogs

had a british accent once because he travelled to the uk and picked up on it, when he came back he was mortified

fucking loves ducks so much he has a camera roll dedicated to duck photos

he got to pet a duck once he was happy for the rest of the week thats how much he loves them

massive nerd & dork

undiagnosed autism with a side of gifted child trauma

really likes jazz and lofi it calms him down fast and makes him happy

wrings his hands when he's really happy

touch starved

makes really good soup

hopeless romantic

more mentally unstable than you think he is. he is actually suffering from burnout but doesnt want to let people around him down.

doing his best. sometimes on the weekends he just nestles into a cocoon of blankets and refuses to leave. texture....

cannot not wear socks he will die without them

cat magnet for some reason??? all neighbourhood cats are at his doorstep even when he and aven already have three. ig hes just cat dad now

aventurine hcs:

still has those glasses, his eyes are more sensitive to light too

really fucking likes fluffy stuff he loves the fluffy he loves the fluffy he-

big fan of sheep and peacocks

eternally terrified that ratio secretly hates him even when they start dating

bpd & adhd & probably autism (ALL BPD HAVERS FUCKING WIN WITH THIS ONE!!!!! I SEE YALL)

masks so often its insane

used to smoke and drink heavily, but has started to lay off ever since he met ratio

still an adrenaline junkie and still has his stupidly good good luck

really likes coffee too, coffee addict, has horrible eyebags, a shitty sleep schedule, and overworks himself half to death

cant fucking cook what the hell is a kitchen

very fond of stelle/caelus and sees them as his surrogate younger siblings. stelle taught him how to play video games and now he plays with them whenever his thoughts get really bitchy to him

horrible at relying on other people but is slowly unlearning that

can do a backflip (why? idk)

high pain tolerance

has a collection of sheep plushies that his friends bought for him

numby and him get along really well. he and topaz still have that sibling esque relationship.

i think he still works for the ipc in this au but its not as bad as it is in canon

starved of touch and does not really know what a healthy relationship is before ratio comes along

loves blankets he has like ten blankets on his bed at once idk why

once poured monster energy into coffee and then drank it. he suffered the consequences. even good luck can't save you from that

listens to generic pop (lie. he actually loves indie guitar)

MENTAL ILLNESS REP IN THIS MAN

accidentally big brothered some kids. help how does he deal with affection

buys stuff for stelle and caelus too. he buys them sheep plushies. they will defend said sheep plushies with their lives. they buy him racoon plushie in return. he does not cry.

his fingers shake so bad sometimes (PTSD goes hard)

motor skills can and will die on him occasionally

unhealthy coping mechanisms but hes getting better guys

he does relapse occasionally but hes putting in effort. finally got his ass to therapy thanks to ratio :)

second cat dad. he loves his cat children he will die for his cat children.

the cats like laying next to him as he eeps if ratio isnt there. they purr and help him with his nightmares.

(ily people w bpd you deserve this rep!!! enjoy :3)

them together hcs!!!!

ratio already had background information on bpd due to his psych degree beforehand but did more researching into it when he realized that aven had bpd because he wanted to support his partner as much as he could :)

ratio is big on physical touch but aven needed some time to get used to it and he was very big on it

aven really likes spoiling the absolute shit out of ratio and likes getting him gifts because sometimes he doesn't know how to word how much he appreciates ratio

aven likes to wash ratios hair for him and visa versa, non sexual intimacy always fucking wins

ratio still worries about aven and doesn't like him gambling all the time, aven makes an active effort to better himself for him even if it's really hard

at the start it was really fucking shitty between the two of them but eventually aven started to learn how to properly and safely communicate with ratio and ratio learned how to phrase his thoughts in a way that wouldn't trigger something, and although they both make mistakes they are doing their best for one another and generally have a good impact on one another's stages of healing (im not projecting im not projecting i-)

aven will hold ratio in his arms and tell him that he's good enough when the thoughts get really bad

they love cuddling, who's big spoon and small spoon switches regularly because they both like being held and holding the other

aven will stop by ratio after his classes and take him home when hes too tired

ratio shuts down sometimes and aven messes with his hair and just stays with him until he reboots

they kiss <33333333333

they cuddle so much they hold one another going to bed

ratio likes giving aven little headkisses and peppers his face with them

they are gay and in love and healthy actually

they were never toxic yaoi never will they be. they are healthy.

they get married <333

this is so much more than what you asked for probably but here you go.

[performativezippers]

fanfic writer habits i've had to unlearn when trying to traditionally publish original work

a list in no particular order in case you're curious

starting sentences with "And"

so. many. one sentence. paragraphs. like, yeah, this is fun for The Drama but also...not how books work

using italics for emphasis--gotta use your WORDS, zippy

head hopping. rereading old fanfics i wrote, i'm like, WHOSE POV IS THIS?? HOW WOULD JANE KNOW MAURA THINKS THIS?? jesus christ keep your pov tight, zipperoni. i had to really learn this when i was revising my first book and my agent pointed it out.

Oh. Oh. some of these are good but too many are oh [failure]

Using scene breaks to skip through transitions instead of actually transitioning. this one i'm working on right now and it's haaaaaaard.

scene choreography. if someone is holding something, do they ever put it down? are they STILL HOLDING IT NOW, FIVE YEARS LATER?

overwriting vs using a lighter touch. "that's normal. that's casual. that's fine." sometimes that's great for emphasis, but if it was always just "that's casual. that's fine." the point comes across the same way, and doesn't hit you over the head with it as much.

introducing new characters and making them memorable, vivid, and not sucking up too much space when the reader doesn't recognize them (it's lena! i love her!)

pacing! things have to happen at specific times, the book needs to end at a specific time, the conflict needs to be sown here and explode there. making that all feel organic and honest for the characters while also conforming to the genre expectations that have very little flexibility (especially for a new author trying to convince publishers I know how to write books)

ending things at the right time. at first i wrote too far beyond the climax (classic fanfic problem) and then now i seem to have swung too far in the other direction and am ending too soon after it. but the good news is that my editor asked for an epilogue. you know what that means?? A WHOLE SHORT CHAPTER OF FLUFF Y'ALL!!!

Does this need to be a curse word or can it be a different word? i mean often it fucking needs to but not always!

Just cut out the word just almost all of the time even if it feels like it's just the right word; it will hurt just a little but you should just do it.

use as much sex as the plot needs. incorporate it into the plot. don't change the tone of the piece. make it stay in character and also be hot and also serve the narrative.

got questions? want examples? have thoughts? what other things have you caught yourself doing, or notice when you read through your old stuff?

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 12

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Some kissing. Implied Smut.

Word Count: 4,418

A/N: Here's Ch. 12. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

A/N 2: Within this chapter there's a reference to a popular waltz written in 1891, called After the Ball. I've included a link to a YouTube version so you can have an idea what it sounds like. The title of the song will be the link, within the body of the chapter.

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Early the next morning, Dean woke to Y/N's restless sighs and her constant shifting beside him. It seemed like she might be having less than pleasant dreams.

Cupping her jaw, he tried to soothe her with a soft kiss to the forehead. It worked and she stopped moving around so much. But a small frown still puckered her brow. Dean pulled her a little closer against him and she sighed softly as her face relaxed back into a calm sleep.

He hoped it wasn't him and their fight that was troubling her dreams. God knew he hadn't slept at all the night before; instead he spent all night missing her soft presence beside him.

He was getting a little too used to having her there, a little too used to having her in his life all together. She was clearly still up in the air about whether she was going to say yes or no to him.

I should create a little distance, just in case, he thought, stay home for one whole day and night. I need to be prepared for the possibility of her leaving in four days time.

But when he thought of her leaving, he felt a pit start to open in his stomach. And the idea of spending another one of their possibly limited days and nights away from her, made him start to feel panicked, and he absolutely hated that feeling.

He gritted his teeth. Definitely need some distance.

Y/N shifted again, burying her face in his shoulder, her soft sigh making a mockery of his warning to himself. He leaned down to kiss her temple and then her forehead.

She moaned lightly and rolled onto her back. Ignoring his body's response to the moan, he leaned down to place a soft, chaste kiss to her lips.

Like something from a fairytale, Y/N's eyes fluttered open and she stared at him a moment before her lips curved into a warm smile and she stretched, reaching her arms up over her head and giving another, much longer moan that was simply too hard for Dean to ignore.

So as she finished stretching, Dean rolled on top of her, bracing his weight on his forearms, and capturing her lips in a deep, probing, and very un-fairytale like kiss.

A soft whimper escaped her throat and he instinctively rolled his hips against the soft heat at the apex of her thighs and groaned deeply. Sometimes he wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe.

Sometimes? His inner voice mocked him.

As he ended the kiss, he pulled back and studied the lines of her face, marveling yet again at just how beautiful she truly was.

Y/N was slightly breathless as she gazed up at him.

“Well, good morning.” She said, her voice husky with sleep and desire.

“Merry Christmas.” Dean responded.

Y/N chuckled. “And a very, merry Christmas to you.”

He dipped his head and kissed her again, and again, and soon he was lost in the way she clung to him, the way her breath hitched when he slipped his hand between their bodies and stroked her, the way his name fell from her lips like drops of honey, sweet and utterly delicious.

Distancing himself could come later, he decided - tomorrow. After all, it was Christmas; he deserved the gift of Y/N.

Eventually, a long time later, they actually got up and started their day.

Y/N wandered into the bathroom doorway as he began to lather up his shaving soap with his horse hair brush and then apply it to his cheeks.

“So, I'm assuming you've also been invited to Christmas dinner?” She asked.

He grinned at her, with half his face lathered. “The Christmas dinner that's being prepared in my kitchen and served in my dining room?” He chuckled, going back to spreading the soap across his face. “Yeah, I got an invite.”

He finished covering his face and turned to look at her. “I thought we'd get there around one o’clock, since dinner starts at two?”

He picked up his straight razor and slowly dragged it across his cheek, removing the soap, and the whiskers with it.

“Oh I don't know if -” Y/N stopped as he took another swipe with the razor. “Aren't you afraid you'll cut yourself with that thing?”

Caught off guard by the question, it took Dean a moment to answer. He chuckled again and shook his head before continuing. “Not really, no. Been shaving since I was sixteen, I'm kind of used to it by now.”

He rinsed off the blade in the sink and then held it out to her.

“Wanna try?”

Y/N shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not! I'm not going to be responsible for scarring that beautiful face.”

Dean scoffed and laughed, taking the next swipe with the razor. “So, what don't you know about?” He said, referring to her earlier, truncated statement.

“Oh.” Y/N shook her head. “I don't know if we should go to dinner together. At the same time I mean. Won't that be a little obvious that we're…staying together?”

Dean dropped his hand as he was about to scrape off more whiskers, turning his head to fix Y/N with an incredulous look.

“Sweetheart, they're staying in my house and I've barely been home once since I moved you into this hotel.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “They know.”

He had to shake his head at Y/N's predictable blush.

She shrugged. “I suppose, but…”

Dean sighed. “Look, at the very least, they know we've been spending time together, right? So, is it really so strange that I'd offer to pick you up and drive you over?”

Y/N shook her head and Dean nodded. “Exactly.”

He went back to shaving as Y/N continued to watch him from the doorway. After a few minutes of silence, just as he was finishing up, Y/N cleared her throat.

“Can I ask you about something I didn't get the chance to last night?”

Dean grinned as he rinsed off his razor and left it open to dry fully.

“Uh oh. Do you have more phrases you want to know the meaning of?”

Y/N shook her head firmly, turning bright red, and Dean laughed as he bent to the sink to rinse away the last of the shaving soap.

Taking a deep breath Y/N spoke softly. “No, I was wondering…what happens when you…when you get married?”

Dean froze for a moment, the water rushing down the drain before he slowly stood straight and shut off the tap.

He could feel his stomach sink to his toes and then lodge in his throat. He tried to keep his voice steady as he grabbed a towel.

“That won't happen.”

Y/N let out a small, humorless chuckle. “Oh, you say that now. But then one day you'll see some beautiful young debutante across a crowded ballroom and fall head over heels, sweep her off her feet and march her down the aisle.”

“No.” He said succinctly before burying his face in the towel and rubbing it briskly over his cheeks.

“But, how do you know that?”

He pulled the towel away and scowled at her. “Because I know.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but he slashed his hand through the air, raising his voice.

“No enough, Y/N! That's not something you'll ever have to worry about, so just drop it.”

The silence was loud between them as Y/N nodded.

“Alright.” She said softly.

The look on her face made Dean feel rotten for shouting at her, but he could still feel the panic rising and he needed to shut it down immediately.

He rubbed at his cheeks with the towel again before tossing it aside and walking over to her in the doorway. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and bent forward to kiss her briefly.

“Why don't you ring for breakfast?”

Y/N nodded again and offered a small smile. “Alright. Though I feel a little like Ebenezer Scrooge, making the staff work on Christmas morning.”

Dean chuckled and nodded towards the end of the bed.

“My billfold is in the inside pocket of my suit jacket that you passionately tossed onto the floor last night.” He said, appreciating the pink that tinged her cheeks at that reminder.

“Grab it and pull out as much cash as you want for a nice Christmas bonus for the staff. Ease our Scrooge-ish guilt.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Alright. Eggs and sausages for you?”

Dean nodded. “Perfect.”

As Y/N moved off to get them breakfast, Dean took a deep breath and forced calm through his body.

It was Christmas; he just wanted to enjoy the day and not let the subject of marriage sour everything.

With that in mind, he forced a smile as he walked back into the room.

“Oh, and a coffee, black.”

***

Y/N leaned back from the table as she finished off the last of her honey-drizzled croissant and licked her finger tips with ravenous delight.

“That was so delicious I could eat a dozen of them myself!"

Dean chuckled and leaned over to thumb away some of the flaky pastry that had stuck to her bottom lip before kissing her softly.

He pulled away, licking his lips. “Mmm…yep, delicious.” He said with a gentle smile.

His green eyes radiated warmth as they stared into hers and Y/N felt her insides turn to mush. She lowered her gaze; she couldn't keep believing those looks.

Yes, Dean liked her, he was obviously attracted to her, and seemed to enjoy spending time with her. But that was where things ended for him.

He'd been perfectly clear about his obvious disdain for the idea of marrying her. She'd merely mentioned the subject of marriage and he'd angrily shouted her down.

It didn't take a genius to understand the rejection in that anger. She wouldn't bring it up again. She didn't need to have her heart pulverized any further.

She loved him and he liked her. And that was the end of it.

She smiled at him now and pushed away from the table. “I got you something for Christmas.”

He grinned and nodded. “Me too.” He went to his greatcoat where it hung by the door and reached into an inside pocket.

Feeling happiness bubble up inside of her despite everything, Y/N went to the top drawer of her wardrobe where a small square box was wrapped and hidden.

They sat in the big green chairs, shifting them slightly so they faced each other a little more.

Y/N quickly passed Dean his gift. “Open it. I hope you like it. I picked it out two days ago and have been dying to give it to you. I'm bad at keeping secrets.”

Dean chuckled as he tore away the wrapping and lifted the lid of the flat box. He reached in to lift out a blue and green striped, silk tie.

“Y/N this is beautiful. But you spent too much money on it.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, it's fine.”

She'd bought it out of her own meager savings because it didn't feel right to buy something for Dean with his own money. It had been a little pricey, but it was worth it to see him looking at it so admiringly.

“So, you like it?”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “It's great and I can wear it to dinner. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Y/N said shyly.

Dean passed her a medium-sized, square box; it was white, and wrapped with a silver bow.

“The bow got a little crushed in my pocket, sorry.” He said, trying to fluff it back up.

Y/N chuckled as she took the box from him. She untied the bow and quickly attached to the end of her braid.

“No, it's perfect.”

Dean smiled. “Suits you.” He nodded impatiently towards the box. “Open it.” He said, excitedly.

Y/N laughed. “Alright, alright.”

She lifted off the lid and pushed aside the shredded paper inside, trying to see what it was protecting.

Lying beneath the paper was a small glass ornament. Y/N picked it up slowly and gasped when she saw what it was.

“It's a snow globe.” Dean said, enthusiastically. “Well, sort of “ He finished with a grin.

It was a snow globe, except instead of snow falling, there were tiny, soft pink flower petals floating within the scene encased in glass.

There was a lush painted scene of a rolling green hill and a path lined with cherry trees rising up over it. Tiny, carved, painted people strolled under the trees, while off to the side, a huge fairway had been created in miniature.

There was a big ferris wheel and a carousel. Games were shown, ring toss, and bullseye. More tiny people played the games, forever frozen in their playful excitement.

The globe sat atop a beautiful, polished, cherry wood base, intricately carved with curling, trailing vines and leaves. And in the very middle of the base, in bold, black lettering, were the words “The Omaha World’s Fair. 1898.”

It was exquisitely created, a perfect miniature depiction of springtime and joy. It was so beautiful and so perfect a gift, that it brought tears to Y/N’s eyes which she rapidly blinked away. She looked up at Dean, and she must have seemed stunned because he gave her a puzzled look.

“Do you like it?”

Y/N could only nod as she tilted it upside down again to make the flower petals float. She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice even if she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the idyllic scene to see it.

“I figured it would have to do until we can get you to the real thing in a few years.” He said. Y/N finally turned her head to look back at him.

“It’s perfect, Dean. So, incredibly beautiful.”

“Good.” He said with a slightly shy smile. He gave a small shrug. “I saw it in a little curio shop window on my way to work a few days ago and I just had to stop and get it for you.”

He pointed towards the globe. “It’s a music box too. Look at the bottom.”

Y/N turned it over to find a winding mechanism on the bottom. She twisted it as far as it would go, and the popular waltz After the Ball, began playing in bright, sparkly notes.

As she flipped the ornament right side up, she gave a little squeal of delight, pointing to the fair scene inside. “The ferris wheel and carousel are moving!”

Y/N watched the intricate movements and the gentle fall of the petals and was completely and utterly entranced by the beauty and ingenuity on display.

Impulsively, she set down the globe on the table and launched herself into Dean’s arms.

“Oof!” He grunted as she leapt on him.

“I love it so much, Dean. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I'm glad. And you're very welcome.”

He bent his head and spent a moment kissing her senseless before sweeping her up into his arms and waltzing her around the room as she clung to his neck and giggled helplessly.

After a minute she was giddily dizzy, and as the last notes of the music box fell away she buried her face in Dean’s neck to try and stop the room spinning. He finally landed them back in the green chair and she dared to open her eyes.

She laid her hand against his jaw and pulled his lips down to hers. When she pulled away there were tears in her eyes again.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.” She told him truthfully.

Dean kissed the tip of her nose and then each corner of her mouth. “Good.” He said with a gentle smile. They sat cuddled in the chair for a little while, just enjoying each other’s warmth and closeness.

Finally Dean kissed the top of her head. “Hey, that storm last night blew away most of the freezing weather. Wanna take a walk? Might be the only time in New York when we get the sidewalks mostly to ourselves.”

Y/N laughed. “That sounds wonderful.”

Dean patted her hip and she climbed off of him. “Then let’s go.” He said with enthusiasm as he headed off to get dressed.

Y/N sank back onto the chair for a moment and picked up her gift, tilting it and winding it up again to watch the scene unfold, with Dean’s words echoing in her mind.

“I figured it would have to do until we can get you to the real thing in a few years.”

For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to dwell on the happy picture she conjured. She and Dean dressed in their finest spring fashions and strolling the fairways and cherry tree lined sidewalks. Sam and Jessica walked ahead of them, with Lucy between them, holding their hands. Their laughter was carried away by the soft breezes that pulled at her skirts and ruffled Lucy's hair.

The idyllic image melted away though, when she realized that even if she and Dean were still together in three and a half year’s time, they wouldn’t be strolling hand in hand, walking with his family, out in public at such a wholesome, family outing. If they went, they’d go after dark, and they’d go alone. Happy family time was not meant for mistresses.

She set the snow globe down along with her ridiculous fantasies, and moved off to get dressed.

***

“Miss Y/N!” As Y/N stepped through the door that the butler, Grant, held open, Lucy Winchester tackled her, wrapping her little arms as far as they could reach around Y/N’s legs, nearly bowling her over.

“Lucy!” Jessica called out as she and Sam came into the foyer. “For pity’s sake, let Miss Y/N through the door before you attack her.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing. “No, it’s fine. I’ve missed you too, little miss.” She said, patting the girl's dark hair.

Dean walked in behind Y/N and gave Lucy a pretend scowl. “What’s this? Are you saving any of those hugs for your uncle who has spoiled you so rotten this Christmas?”

Lucy squealed and immediately ran at Dean so he could throw her up in the air and then into his arms.

Jessica came forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a crooked grin. “Yes, a messenger delivered all her gifts yesterday. It was everything we could do to keep her from tearing into them immediately. You have indeed, utterly spoiled her. I mean, you always spoil her, but this might be considered obscene.”

Dean grinned. “It isn’t every Christmas that I actually get to see my little Luce on Christmas Day. Gotta make it special.” He then walked out of the entryway with Lucy still in his arms, playing a game where he pretended to drop her, just so he could catch her again, over and over.

Jessica just rolled her eyes indulgently and led them all into the parlor where the Christmas tree sat in all its majestic glory.

They relaxed in the parlor for almost an hour, visiting and chatting, about Sam's conference, about all the places Jessica and Lucy had been throughout New York.

Dean told them about taking Y/N skating. “Couldn't stay on her feet.” He tattled with a teasing grin.

Y/N blushed. “I told you, it's been a long time since I skated.”

“Well, you won't be able to use that excuse next time.” Dean teased her and everyone laughed.

When they finally went into the dining room for dinner, Y/N gasped. The table was laid out beautifully and extravagantly.

“Jessica! This is stunning.” she praised.

Jessica smiled. “Thank you, but I couldn't have possibly put this together without Mrs. Simmons” She turned to Dean. “You should count yourself lucky to have her as your housekeeper, and maybe consider giving her a raise.”

Dean grinned as he pulled out Y/N's chair and then sat beside her. “I'll do that.”

Everything was beyond delicious and Jessica reminded Dean to give his cook, Mrs. Plessi, a raise too.

The conversation flowed surprisingly easy. Y/N had been worried things would be stilted or awkward with everything that was going on. But the dinner was filled with laughter and happiness and Y/N was having a wonderful time, pushing aside all the negativity that wanted to bubble up inside her.

After dinner was finished and they were all fuller than they needed to be, they moved back into the parlor, so everyone could exchange gifts.

Y/N got a beautiful pair of kidskin gloves from Sam and Jessica and a crudely stitched, pincushion doll from Lucy. She suspected the little one had gotten a lot of help from Jessica, but the little girl's eyes shone proudly as Y/N exclaimed over how beautiful it was and how talented a seamstress Lucy was.

She spent the rest of the afternoon playing with all her new toys, introducing her porcelain doll, Esmeralda, to the stuffed bear and cloth doll her parents had gotten for her, and promising they were all going to be best friends.

She gave Sam and Jessica a pretty little glass ornament for their tree with the words, “Christmas 1900” painted on it, and she gave Lucy a book of nursery rhymes.

The adults all exchanged gifts, but of course Lucy got the most gifts of them all, and a lot of those were from Dean. She went a little mad as she pulled them all open. Her screeching joy over the last gift she opened, a porcelain doll with real hair, had everyone laughing.

Eventually, she put her dolls to sleep and crawled up on Dean's lap to get him to read her some of her nursery rhymes. He obliged and the silliness of the rhymes kept them all entertained for a while.

Y/N looked at Lucy in Dean's lap, her rosy cheeks glowing with delight as he read to her, and she felt her heart swell in her chest.

Halfway through the book, Dean set it down and repositioned Lucy in his lap.

“These nursery rhymes are great, but I think we should go for a horsey ride. What do you think?”

“Oh boy!” Lucy cried, clapping her hands.

“Oh boy.” Sam said with a groan. “Not this close to bedtime.“ He told Dean, who chose to ignore him

He sat Lucy on his knee so that it looked like she was riding sidesaddle. Moving his leg sedately up and down, he sung the simple words to the nursery rhyme.

“This is the way a lady rides, lady rides, lady rides. This is the way a lady rides all through the town.”

Shifting her so that one chubby leg dangled on either side of his knee, he picked up the pace slightly, but still kept a steady rhythmic ”prancing” throughout the next part of the song.

“This is the way a gentleman rides, gentleman rides, gentleman rides. This is the way a gentleman rides all through the town.”

Lucy began giggling like mad, obviously well-aware of what was coming next.

“Hang on, l’il pardner!” Dean told Lucy in a would-be western accent.

He began bouncing and twisting his knee all around like a broncing bull, making Lucy squeal and grab on to her Uncle's kneecap. Dean had an iron grip around her waist as he sang the last verse.

“This is the way a cowboy rides, cowboy rides, cowboy rides. This is the way a cowboy rides all through the town.”

He kept her on the bucking bronco for a little while, slowing down every once in a while, only to speed back up and start Lucy cackling all over again.

This will never be mine. I'll never have this with him.

Y/N was laughing as she watched the sheer delight on her little student's face. Sam and Jessica were laughing too, and it was a warm, precious moment.

But it was in that precise moment, when her heart was full and happy, that the realization pierced through Y/N once again.

It was impossible. Even if she stayed with Dean, no matter what, she'd never have this simple, domestic happiness. She'd never watch him bounce their little girl on his knee, never go to the park together as a family and watch him teach their son to fly a kite.

They wouldn't sit down to Christmas or Easter dinners with friends and family. She and Dean wouldn't watch their children grow up, would never watch each other grow old.

She'd get a few years with Dean at most, and when he was through, her only option would be to move into another man's bed. Maybe she'd be able to wait a year, maybe even longer if Dean was generous.

But no matter what, even if Dean gave her enough to live off of for ten years, they would be empty years. Alone years.

This would never be her life.

Tears gathered fast and thick behind her eyes, and she looked away from Dean and Lucy quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said with what she hoped was a believable smile, as she walked briskly from the room. She escaped across the foyer and into Dean's study just before she broke into tears.

She sat down on the couch and buried her face in her hands, the tears flowing freely despite her desperate attempt to make them stop.

The door opened and Y/N jumped up, worried it was going to be Dean. But instead Jessica was poking her head around the door and then sliding inside.

“I thought I saw you disappear into this room.” She said gently.

Y/N tried to dash away her tears surreptitiously. But Jessica had already seen them. She didn't seem surprised by them, and she didn't ask Y/N what was wrong.

She simply stepped forward and placed a consoling hand on Y/N's arm.

“You love him.” She said plainly, but with immense sympathy in her tone.

Y/N thought about lying, but there was no point. So she nodded and felt a sob escape her chest. Jessica stepped forward and pulled Y/N into a hug, wrapping her up tightly and letting Y/N muffle her tears in the soft green wool of her dress.

Y/N cried until her throat hurt and her head ached. When she was finished, Jessica sat beside her on the couch for a little while.

“I'm sorry, Y/N.” She said quietly.

But Y/N shook her head. “No, you warned me.”

Jessica sighed. “I'm still sorry you're being hurt. I could maybe talk to him abou-”

“No!” Y/N said immediately. The only thing she could think of that would be worse than loving Dean when he didn't love her back, was him knowing how she felt and being annoyed by her unwanted feelings or else, worst of all, feeling sorry for her.

“No, it's fine, I don't think there's anything to say to him that's going to change his mind. But thank you.”

Jessica nodded. “I'll give you a few minutes alone, and I'll make sure no one comes in here till you come out.”

Y/N nodded and gave Jessica a smile, grateful to get the time to try and look presentable again.

When she was alone, she took deep shuddering breaths and smoothed down her hair. As she let her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks recover, thoughts began to unfold in her mind and she came to another realization.

She couldn't say yes to Dean.

She couldn't have him for a little while and then just lose him; she couldn't have him, without ever really having him. If walking away now was going to break her heart, how much worse would it be after she'd spent years with him and was then forced to walk away?

She couldn't say yes.

But she also realized that before they parted ways there was one thing she had to do.

Eventually she felt a little more normal, and looking at her reflection in the darkened window, it looked like most of the traces of her tears were gone. So, she rejoined the group in the parlor.

They only stayed another few minutes however, since it was getting to be past Lucy's bedtime.

There were many good wishes exchanged and sleepy hugs from Lucy. Jessica gave Y/N another quick, tight hug, and she and Dean were soon on their way in the hack that rolled up outside the door.

As they made their way through the deserted New York City streets, Y/N slid closer to Dean on the seat, wrapping her arms around his and leaning her head on his shoulder as they bumped along the cobblestone.

She held his hand all the way through the snowy path that led to the garden doors; she didn't want to let go of him.

But when they got inside, they separated so Dean could light some lamps and Y/N could get out of her coat and boots. After Dean had done the same, she was again at his side. She pulled him close and kissed him softly.

Dean tried to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back. He looked down at her with heat in his gaze and she allowed all her passion for him to show in hers.

“I want to give you something for Christmas.” She whispered.

Dean smiled and pulled his tie loose, lifting the end towards her. “But you already did.”

Y/N shook her head. “I want to give you something else too.”

“Alright. What's that?” Dean asked with a warm smile.

Y/N hesitated for the span of a breath before answering.

“Me.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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[drdemonprince]

i read in the comments to my last ask about "ordinary unhappiness" the idea of depression as a lack of agency and i feel like that is true? when i feel miserable and in pain, it's not because something is sad but because something is either unachievable or impossible (or at least there is the perception of it). and like i think that's what you were getting at too? this thing that drives you to keep going, this lack of satisfaction. i simply don't have anything i can give into such that i would ever even feel a lack of satisfaction. i've never had anything to give myself into and feel frustrated and perhaps sometimes successful in but instead i just envy the people who do have those things. nothing i've ever done has felt maintained a sense of emotional connectiveness in that way (positive or negative). i guess to wrap this back around to another potential talking point, i'm curious how you find that in your life? is it weird for me that nothing has ever felt worth putting myself whole ass into? idk, i find it envious you've got both writing and gay hypno fetish stuff you're able to just throw yourself into so wholly and utterly

Passion isn't inherent, it can be a choice too. I only look like I care a ton about writing and gay hypno stuff because I have deliberately chosen to pursue those passions, for many years, and cultivated a deep interest in them, anon.

When I was in my early twenties, I felt completely empty. I was a void. If you've read the first chapter of Unmasking Autism, this is the period I'm talking about in that book. I went away to graduate school (because I was good at academics, and I had some illusions about what a career in that field would do for me), but I had absolutely zero zest for the subject of psychology at that point. I had no research ideas. I read psychology books and publications purely out of obligation. I did what was required of me, but nothing additional beyond that, and I spent the rest of my time sitting at home, sometimes literally staring at the wall and crying. I had no friends or hobbies, aside from taking long, long depression walks listening to podcasts in order to fill the silence.

This was when I was at my most depressed, and my most suicidal. Just existing was a pain. I'd sob in bed at night and cry out begging for God to kill me, and I didn't even believe in God. The only thing that distracted me from my pain was a guy I was seeing, who was beautiful and very cruel and inconsistent, and I clung to him through all kinds of lies and abuse because it felt as though my happiness was located inside of him.

I had a friend that I wrote to about how miserable I was, and all the twists and turns that my horrible romance was taking. Her name was Heather. (Unlearning Shame is dedicated to her). She told me hey, you're a really good writer, did you know that? I really enjoy reading your emails, even when you're speaking about the most pitiful anguished shit, you really put it poetically and have a ton of insight. You should write more.

For a while, I ignored her. I didn't care about writing. I just wanted to get my pain out on the page because I had nobody to talk to, and oodles of time to waste. I had nothing otherwise that I felt I HAD to say. I had no PASSION. I did not feel like I was put on this earth to do anything. Other people seemed to have these drives, and I had nothing.

But then one day in a fit of depression I stopped by a bookstore right near my apartment, The Armadillo's Pillow, just to get outside of the house. I happened upon a book I had loved in high school, Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. I took it home. I read it. It transported me for a few hours away from my pain. I went back to the book store and picked up some sci-fi. A John Varley collection, I think. I was also swept away from my suffering, even when the stories had flaws that I noticed. I was interested in the actual craft of storytelling: what worked and what didn't. And there was finally some beauty in my head instead of the usual dreariness and self-hatred and emptiness.

And so. I made the choice to write. I could have taken it or left it at that point. I didn't care about anything. Caring is a muscle that you have to flex. And when you're depressed, it can be very hard. I needed a lot of nudges from the external world and other people, to realize that I had some things I did gravitate toward, even if I didn't realize it.

All that time of course I WAS driven to write. I was churning out 5k word letters to Heather every day practically. I was reading stupid shit online. And when it was put in front of me, and I had no reason to feel guilt about not working hard enough on other things, I reached for books. But I didn't feel passion strongly under the heavy blankets of my depression. Or usually at all, really. I am a quite internally muted person whose emotions are suppressed. But they're there. Speaking to me softly. And to overcome my depression, I had to decide to listen to them instead of ignoring them all of the time, and give them kindling, and then fan them into a flame.

I started blogging regularly while I was in graduate school (right here, hello, you can check my archive dating back to 2011), and finding a reason to live. When I was writing, I felt like the world was interesting, and beautiful. It gave me new things to do. I attended literary readings and book launches all over town. I submitted work to magazines. I bought old copies of magazines and read them. I inhaled books. I listened to fiction podcasts. I joined writing groups. At first, it felt like a slog, like anything else. Doing these things, I was not "happy". But I was interested. I liked learning about the world of publishing, critiquing people's stories in my head, and commisserating with other Tumblr writers about the stuff that got featured on the Prose tag that sucked.

After YEARS of doing this, of choosing to fan my passions, it became a genuine motivation in my life. But even then? I lose track of it sometimes. I get busy, or there's no place comfy to sit and read in my apartment, and I forget that I like writing and reading for months at a time. And then I have to choose it again. It takes effort to care about something, every time.

It's the same way with hypno. I did have a fetish for this stuff all my life long. But it's a passion that people always thought was weird and gross, and that I thought was bad. I didn't tell anyone about it until my late 20's. I felt ashamed masturbating to it or looking up hypno content online. For years I snuffed out that flame of passion until I could barely feel it anymore. It wasn't until I was super depressed AGAIN in my later 20's that I took a bunch of weird off-label anti-depressant drugs under the table and had a weird dreamy headspace overtake me and make me insanely horny that I remembered how much I loved hypno, and because I was in search of an escape from my tormented brain, I sought hypnotists out.

And I had the time of my life. But I also had boring, awkward encounters, bad hook-ups, and had to do a ton of work.

My passions have drawn me out of depression because I needed them to. I had to find them, listen to them, and then give them lots of food. And it's one of the few things that a person does often have agency over, no matter how dispiriting their circumstances. You can make choices about where to put what attention you do have, in what free moments you do have. When you're on the bus or in line at the grocery store and you're thinking about how much you hate yourself, you can try to think about a story you read or a sexual fantasy you had, instead. It's a lot of work. But it's better work than the work of hating yourself, which takes a whole lot of energy and attention itself.

I hope you can find something like this for you. It doesn't really matter what it is. It can be some hobby you've always wanted to try, or something "childish" you've suppressed. Having a passion isn't like being chosen by the universe to care about something. It's not like love at first sight. Nothing fucking works like that in life. It's always work. It's always a choice you have to make, because no one else will give it to you. But there can be hints that you can follow, sometimes.

[what-even-is-thiss]

If you’re trying to get yourself out of the purity culture mindset of even touching or thinking about “bad” things corrupts people and you’re still Christian or at least still believe in God in some capacity my advice to you is to remind yourself that

A) God is not your judgemental aunt. They see everything and therefore probably have a pretty good understanding of things like harm reduction and how the human brain works considering They invented it. Yours and other people’s involuntary thoughts and coping mechanisms aren’t the enemy winning they’re part of being human and if anything knowing the thoughts you have shouldn’t be acted on is a good sign about your personal character.

B) Certain things you’ve been taught are harmful either aren’t harmful or aren’t as harmful if precautions are taken. Premarital sex is the classic example. Traditionally abstinence was the only reliable way to prevent STIs and unwanted pregnancies but we’ve got the technology now to reduce the chance of that stuff significantly. Besides, if you like it and are being careful and respecting your partners it’s very likely no harm at all will come of it. If you cause no harm on purpose, that’s not a sin. That’s just using what He gave you to have a good time. And even if it was a sin His whole deal is forgiveness. This doesn’t just apply to sex either. Watching media that depicts “immoral” acts, doing drugs, and many other things can be done safely or at least have their impact minimized. Follow your best judgement on these things and when appropriate try to guide people around you to reduce harm in their own lives as well, but don’t try to dictate for them what right and wrong is in their own lives.

C) God basically is the entire universe. They can’t be harmed or destroyed by human action. The universe isn’t a tug of war between God and evil. God made the rope. You or anyone else making mistakes, having a difficult time forgiving someone, sinning, having weird or nasty thoughts from time to time, or doing or making something that blurs the lines between morality or immorality can’t hurt God or the universe. She’s too big for that. And forgiveness and mercy are kind of Her whole thing. One mistake or even many isn’t an earth shattering event. You’ll be okay.

Basically what you need to remember when trying to train yourself out of this mindset of purity culture and never doing anything bad ever is that you need to work to make your default assumption that you’re trying your best, so is everyone else, and judging whether or not something is actually harmful isn’t always a clear cut and easy thing. God understands nuance. They gave us humor as a gift to cope with the struggles of the world. Learning a bit of flexibility with yourself and others isn’t always easy, but you can do it. Rethink your knee jerk reactions. Pray about it if that helps you, and most importantly be kind with yourself and others who are on this same journey. It takes time to unlearn some harmful attitudes you may have been taught. And that’s okay. You’re doing fine.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

You've said that seeing porn 'too young' on the internet shouldn't hurt you and I'm.. it definitely did for me. Did I do something wrong? Should I try to get a diagnosis at a psychiatrist or something, was that not normal and was that like a symptom of a mental illness I don't realize I still have now? Or was it because it was fanfiction erotica and not video porn? I had to consciously unlearn the bdsm domination/submission stuff that's baked into nearly all smut as it completely ruined any enjoyment of sex for me, and I'm pretty sure some of the non-con type stuff made me really anxious around men (esp. tall men, since that was always emphasized) for about a decade. Idk, just.. confused about what to do and where I fucked up :///

hi anon,

I want to be so clear upfront: you didn't do anything wrong or fuck up.

it sounds like you would have had some pretty bad anxiety and some slightly obsessive thoughts regardless, and this just happened to be the thing that made you nervous enough to fixate on. if this is still derailing your ability to enjoy sex, and especially if you're still feeling anxious around men who are literally just existing, then yes, I do think that seeking out a mental health professional to help you unpack and rewire some thoughts sounds like it would be a very good idea.