#you're not entitled to anyone's interiority

[ziskeyt]

I keep seeing non-Jews respond to Jews saying how we can be Jewish and atheists like "I don't understand" and vaguely demanding a defense or explanation for how this can be. and you know what, it's actually totally acceptable to not understand the intricacies of a culture that you aren't part of! You don't need to understand how someone else's culture and faith intersect to respect them!

And like, good on some people on jumblr for answering these questions but to be honest, none of them actually owe you an answer! You are not entitled to know everything!

There are atheist Jews, this is not a statement that contradicts itself, nor requires more explanation.

[neouture]

Senses

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Words: 4,146

Genre: Smut (18+), angst if you squint

Includes: Fem!Reader, established relationship. Haechan is jealous and somewhat possesive bc of a silly little hug drunk Renjun gave you. Arguing, silent treatment, make up sex. Smut warnings under the cut !

Author's note: Possesive Haechan lives in my mind rent free. This story might not be for everyone because it includes very specific kinks that not everyone is into, but I had a lot of fun with this. If you like it, please leave a comment/ask. I also now have a ko-fi account, the link it's in my pinned post, in case anyone is interested in leaving a tip ! That's totally up to you tho, my stories are free for everyone. It's just another way to support (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I'm reposting this bc I posted it yesterday but it wasn't showing up in the tags so hopefully they work now!

Smut warnings: I feel like this is the time to reveal I have an impregnation kink so bear with it. Dirty talk, teasing, you're somewhat turned on by Haechan's possesiveness in all honesty. Oral sex (f. receiving), mentions and fantasies of impregnation, impregnation kink, unprotected sex (stay safe ! ), creampie.

If looks could kill, Renjun would've had a fatal ending.

Way more fatal than the fate you are transiting right now, sitting in the passenger seat while Haechan's gaze shoots darts into the road as if it’s a target, surrounded by an overwhelming silence that not even the street sounds and the city’s bustling can ease.

If looks could kill, Renjun would’ve collapsed next to you the second he decided to wrap one of his arms around you in a warm, brotherly hug. One that, seemingly so innocent, was misinterpreted by your boyfriend from afar.

“Haechan,” you sigh, but it’s useless yet again. No matter how many times you’ve said his name on the way back home, it seems as though you're speaking to a wall. A stubborn wall that doesn't listen, in which your words bounce back and are interiorized with shame and embarrassment when you realize that all you’re left with is the palpable tension inside his car.

You can see said tension in the prominent veins of his arms, his clenched jaw and the way he is just staring at the horizon, not daring to look at you. You can feel it every time you call out his name and his body stiffens a little. You can hear it in his heavy heartbeats and rapid breathing. You can smell it on your clothes, impregnated with alcohol and cigarette smoke.

But you can’t taste it. You can’t taste the tension when your mouth is dry, and your throat is aching with words gathered at the lump in your throat, threatening to spill out at any moment in an attempt to know what's going on in his mind.

“Look he didn’t mean it that way,” you murmur, trying to ignore the stinging tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “He just- he just put his arm around me. It wasn’t- it didn’t mean anything”.

“Of course it didn’t,” it’s the only response you get, right when his car takes the street of the complex you two live in.

Whether it's because of the sound of his voice, or the fact that you're really close to knowing your true fate tonight, you feel somewhat relieved.

“He was tipsy,” you continue, resting your head against the cold, glass window.

“You weren’t,” Haechan cuts you short right when he enters the underground parking lot. The car becomes illuminated by a dim, warm light, just enough to catch a better glimpse of your boyfriend, but he still doesn’t look at you. “And you still let him put his hands on you”.

“Come on, Haechan!” you groan, frustrated.

His jealousy always gets the best out of you, but somehow it also manages for the worst of you to show through. It's a complicated situation you always find yourself in, when something like such happens. You don't really like that side of him, the jealous and possessive one, the one that feels entitled to you as a person. But at the same time, you really can't begin to hate it either.

It’s enticing.

“Get out,” he says while unbuckling his seat belt. He does so with a swift movement, only to turn around the car just to open the door for you.

He is upset, and pissed, and really angry, but he can’t get himself to stop being a gentleman to you. What happened tonight it's not your fault, anyways, but he secretly wishes you'd pushed Renjun away.

In a way, Haechan thinks it’s your fault. Even when it isn’t.

But you still follow his orders to a t, getting out of the vehicle while he holds the door for you, closing it right behind you with a loud sound that makes you feel startled for a bit.

You know Haechan would never hurt you, but this side of him it's such a scary contrast to his usual personality. It’s somewhat unsettling, to say the least, but it is never frightening.

“You’re going to give me the silent treatment?”

After a minute or two, the lack of response gives you a one. You follow him defeated through the elevator doors that take you to the lobby complex, and lose all hope in getting him to talk.

Plus, it’s getting late, and you’re tired, so if Haechan doesn’t want to talk now, you’re not going to push him further anymore —it’s probably best to deal with all this tomorrow morning, after a good night of sleep.

You stop trying to get his attention when the doors of the lobby's elevator close, and just opt to stand right beside him in silence —you've said so much already, from the minute he dragged you out of the bar you and your friends were attending to celebrate Jaemin's birthday, to the final moments in his car; if he didn’t say anything then, he is probably not going to say anything now.

So you accept the silent treatment, walking alongside with him to your apartment door. He pulls out his keys, opens it for you and gets inside without even sending a look your way. You close the door behind you and watch as he throws his jacket to the living room couch, standing awkwardly while he figures out exactly what to say.

“Why did you-”.

“I’m tired,” you cut him short, passing by him through the living room and into your bedroom. “I’m going to bed”.

Like him, you pass by without sparing him a glance. Without even acknowledging his presence there, like you’re just announcing another part of your routine to no one in particular.

“You’re not,” it’s when you feel his hand wrapping around your wrist, and stopping you from leaving the scene, that you turn around to face him —you can still see the tension, in his knitted eyebrows and that gaze of regret he holds. “Let’s talk”.

“I wanted to talk,” you murmur, getting yourself out of his grip. “I spent all the ride back home trying to talk, but you weren’t even looking at me”.

“I was just trying to find the right ti-”.

“What even is the right time?” there’s annoyance in your voice, and a part of you wishes your emotions hadn't escalated too quickly. But if there's one thing that pisses you off, is how things are always done the way he wants them, when he wants them. “When you feel like talking?”

“Listen to me-”.

“No, Haechan, you listen to me,” you sigh, leaving your purse on the couch, right next to his jacket. “Renjun just put his arm around me, he wasn’t- it wasn’t even an actual hug. And yeah- he was tipsy, but he just- he wasn’t hitting on me or anything, God!”

The more you speak, the more stressed you become. Now that the words are falling from your lips, and you’re revisiting the facts, you realize how unprovoked Haechan’s anger truly is.

“You say he's one of your best friends, but you can't even trust him,” your hands travel all the way to your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. The despair is making your body feel warm, and you can even feel a thin layer of sweat gathering on your forehead and nape. “You say you love me, but you can’t even trust me”.

“I trust him,” Haechan murmurs, “and I trust you”.

“Then what is your problem?”

“I am the fucking problem,” the black-haired groans, imitating your previous actions by pushing his hair away from his face. It’s not usual for him to raise his voice, let alone sound this frustrated —the unexpected loud tone makes you swallow thickly. “I know it’s not your fault but I can’t help it”.

“It is not my fault,” you repeat in a whisper, trying to give some echo to his own words. “If it’s not my fault, then why are you acting like it is?”

Haechan goes quiet. Not because he wants to give you the silent treatment again, but because he doesn't know what to say.

Is there anything to say, anyway? You're right, and he feels like an asshole.

“Because,” he begins, all worked up because he believes the answer is rather obvious. Isn’t it? He’s acting like this because you’re his. Because no other man has the right to touch you, or even look your way. You’re his, and he doesn’t like to share. “Because you’re only mine”.

The sudden response makes your heart skip a beat or two. Is it wrong to feel something just by seeing him this angry? Is it wrong to feel proud of hearing him say something so possessive like that?

You feel conflicted —you’re enjoying this when you’re not supposed to.

“Yours?” you ask, with an eyebrow slightly cocked.

“Yes, mine,” you're not quite sure when it happened, but your bodies are now facing each other. You can smell the tension in his cologne, along with the remains of cigarette smoke and the alcoholic beverage Renjun threw Haechan’s way at the club.

“You’re so entitled,” you let out a soft scoff, one that does nothing to ease Haechan's sharp gestures. “Yes, you’re my boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean I belong to you”.

It's, perhaps, the frustration talking. You know what he means, but it's your anger the one to make the first move.

However, you're not expecting him to laugh.

You expected him to counter attack, to get even angrier.

You expected him to raise his voice, or be silent at all.

But you weren't expecting to see the corners of his lips rising in a half smile, one as mischievous at the comment you just made.

“What?”

“Do I need to remind you how mouthy you get when I'm fucking you?”

You stare at him for what feels like ages, not daring to blink or break eye contact. He is also staring at you, but far from looking angry or frustrated, he looks amused. It's like the roles have been reversed, and it's you now who doesn't know what to say.

“What- does that have to do with this?”

“You say you don’t belong to me,” Haechan sighs, the tip of his tongue poking just slightly through his cheek. “But you never seemed reluctant about me owning you when we're in our bed”.

You can feel your cheeks getting warmer, and a weird tension in your lower abdomen you’ve grown to be familiar with over the past years. It’s probably not the greatest time to get aroused, but you can’t control yourself when it comes to him.

Just like he can’t control himself when it’s about you.

“That’s- it’s different,” you weakly attack.

“Is it?”

Haechan can tell you're getting nervous. By the way your shoulders are moving at a faster rate, and you seem to be struggling to look at him, he knows he has hit a nail. Perhaps this is a way to make a point —the one he has been wanting to make all night long.

“How so?”

The words get caught up in your throat again, and the fact that you don't have an actual response makes you feel uneasy.

“If it's any different, then that means you're a liar,” he says, guiding one of his hands to your chin whilst lifting it up. You can hear the tension in the nuances of his voice, those who seem mocking and provocative. Those looking to make you lose a game you didn't even know you were playing, “so when are you lying?”.

His hand strokes the sides of your face, and then places a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is enough to make you gulp, but it’s a nice contrast to his harsh and filthy words.

“Are you lying to me when you say you belong to me, and that you’re mine?” Haechan asks, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “Or are you lying to me right now, just to rile me up and get what you want?”.

That wasn't precisely a conscious plan, but now that he says so it seems that all your efforts to get him all worked up were to end up just like this.

“I just- Haechan”.

“What?” he asks you. The hand that was caressing your cheek is now placed at your waist, pulling him closer to his body.

You can feel the tension when his bulge brushes against your abdomen, hard and throbbing, pressing against you. It’s too tempting to stop, too inviting to know what he has to say without using no words.

So you allow him to touch you, to press his body against yours to make you feel how much he needs you. There is really no point in resisting, because you’ve wanted this all night long.

“Pervert,” you whisper, panting when you feel his rough grip on your ass. “I bet you were thinking about this on the way back home”.

“And you weren’t?” Haechan scoffs, quietly. “I could see your thighs squeezing together every time you looked at me”.

Embarrassingly enough, he is not that far from the truth.

“I can’t help it,” you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to be closer to him. “I’m sorry”.

“Save your apologies for later,” his lips are dangerously close to yours, and you squirm between his arms when you feel his breath caressing your chin and jaw. “You’re going to need them for being such a liar”.

And, finally, you can taste the tension —it tastes like alcohol, cherries, and rage. Like mint and something else.

“Fuck,” you whisper in between kisses when you feel his teeth sinking on your lower lip, “Haechan”.

It doesn’t take him long to guide you to the bedroom, managing to walk the small, dark hallway with his hands all over your body and his eyes closed.

“Haechan,” you voice once again when he lays you down in the mattress, his skillful hands looking for the hems of your jeans and underwear to pull them off in one go. Truth be told, you’ve never seen him this desperate; his lips are all over your thighs and legs, kissing them sloppy while he caresses the sides of them. He’s sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh, marking you every now and then in places he knows he’s the only one entitled to see.

Everything is happening too fast, but you don’t want him to slow down —you’re just as desperate as he is.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Haechan groans when he catches a glimpse of your sticky folds, all glistening with your arousal, “shit”.

He doesn’t hesitate before hooking both of his arms under and around your thighs, keeping you still in place while his lips approach your throbbing cunt.

“You think Renjun could get you this wet?” Haechan hums against your thigh, his intimidating gaze looking up at you while you struggle to support your upper body weight with your arms. For an unknown reason, you feel your body melting and going numb at such comments.

“N-no,” you shake your head.

“Do you think your body would react to him like it does with me?” The soft and teasing kisses are killing you; his lips are licking and sucking everywhere but where you want them.

“No, Haechan!” The cries in your voice makes him grind his hips against the mattress, hoping to get even the slightest friction.

He wishes he could keep on teasing you, drive you insane just like you did to him back there at the club. But, truth be told, he can't spend another minute without feeling you, in all the sense of the word.

“Apologize, then,” Haechan says, brushing the tip of his nose against your throbbing clit. That single touch is enough to earn a whimper from you, and it is also enough to make you lose all logic and rationality within you —not that you have any whenever you're underneath him in your bed to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, clenching around thin air every time the word falls from your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry Haechan. I’m sorry”.

“Sorry for what?” the dark-haired asks again, acting oblivious to the situation. “What are you apologizing for?”

Whether it's mercy or pure neediness, his tongue unexpectedly laps at your wetness. He licks your slit and toys with your clit, just enough to provide you with some pleasure but without distracting you from your task.

“For- shit, for letting him touch me,” you sigh, kicking your head back. You’re not quite sure what exactly you’re sorry for, but you’re willing to say anything just to feel him. “For letting him- put his arm around me, fuck”.

Haechan smiles against your pussy. A genuine smile, one that can only indicate he’s feeling proud.

“See how easy it is?” he coos, continuing his ministrations on your clit, “you tell me what I want to hear, and I give you anything you want”.

Despite Haechan’s early accusations of you being a liar, you mean everything you say when you’re in bed. In fact, you're only brutally honest when he's deep inside you. When you've lost all your senses and sanity, and when all you are left with is pure bliss.

“I’m sorry,” you keep on chanting, latching your fingers against his dark locks in an attempt to bring him closer to you.

You know you're seconds away from coming, and he knows this too, so he allows you to manhandle him against you as much as you want. He hisses when you grip his hair particularly harsher, but he doesn’t stop; instead, he licks you ardently, looking forward to your orgasm.

“Show me how sorry you are, then,” he murmurs against you, his nose and chin shining with your own wetness. “Come”.

It’s the sight of him between your legs, along with his crude words and pretty eyes that pushes you to the edge. Your hands clasp the bed sheets beneath you, and your thighs threaten to close around him but he is quick to keep them apart with his hands.

“You’re getting shy now?” he teases you while you overcome your high, writhing underneath his hold. “Keep them open for me pretty, I want to lick you clean”.

Much against your body’s will, Haechan manages to keep you in place while he helps you through your orgasm, causing waves of overstimulation to wreak havoc inside you from your head to the tip of your toes.

“Haechan!,” you gasp when you feel him pulling away from your body, the sudden loss of contact making you feel somewhat relieved after the pinches of pain caused by the overstimulation.

His lips are bright peachy and swollen, all covered in your own orgasm.

“Too much?” Haechan asks, unbuckling his belt while getting rid of his clothes. You imitate him and do the same, discarding your blouse and bra somewhere along the room.

“No,” you shake your head, inviting him between your legs.

He positions himself in the middle, and the sight makes you clench around thin air yet again. His cock is hard and reddened, throbbing almost visibly in front of your eyes.

“You still think you can take me?” he asks yet again, trying to make sure you’re not sore from how aggressive his early ministrations were.

“I’ve been wanting you all night long, Haechan,” you murmur, wrapping your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t care about anything, I just want you to fuck me”.

He kisses your forehead, and then your chin. The tip of his cock is pressing against your clit and, at times, against your entrance, but he is still nowhere near being inside you.

“See,” Haechan whispers with his lips against your jaw. “I know you’ve apologized, but I still need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine”.

His words make you let out a quiet scoff.

“How come, exactly?”

“What if I came inside you?” Even the idea makes you gasp —half a gasp, that ends up sounding more like a moan, “hm?”

For this, he needs to feel you. So he loses no time pushing himself inside you until he bottoms out. You dig your fingernails into his biceps when you feel the tip of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and it’s only then when he continues to tell you, perhaps, his filthiest fantasy.

“What if I got you pregnant?” It’s crazy, the rational part of you acknowledges. But the aroused one, the one that lacks logic, only gets even more turned on at his words. “That way, everyone will know what we do when we’re alone”.

“Shit,” you cry, clenching around his cock.

He smiles when he feels it.

“You’d like that, don’t you?” After a couple of slow, delicate thrusts, he begins to acquire a faster pace when you get used to having him inside you. “You're squeezing my cock so hard”.

“You want to- get me pregnant?”

Even the words falling from your lips make you clench around him yet again, and it takes him a lot of effort not to come just by those gestures alone.

“That way everyone would know you’re mine,” Haechan sighs, pistoning deeper inside you. “Everyone would know that I’m the one who fucks you good, the one you allow to come inside that pretty pussy of yours”.

You whimper at his words, nibbling on your lower lip while trying to contain every lewd sound that threatens to escape your lips.

“I bet you’d- look so pretty like that,” the more aroused he gets, the less he cares about what he says —it seems as though he’s not having any inhibitions, and you love it. “Fuck”.

It's a wild fantasy, but you two seem to share it. You’d be lying if you say that the mere thought of carrying his child is not appealing to you, because it is.

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling him losing all pace and rhythm of his hips. “Why don’t you get me pregnant, then?”

The dirty talk does wonders to him, because the minute you start voicing his thoughts it’s the minute his movements become sloppier, rushed, and faster. He wants to come, he desperately needs it.

But he wants you to come first.

“I will,” he groans through gritted teeth. “If that’s what you want, then I will”.

Your heart feels fuzzy, and the tension on your lower abdomen starts increasing with each thrust. It’s not going to be long before you come around him, for the second time in a row, and as much as you’d like to savor this moment, you’re too desperate to take your time.

“Fuck,” Haechan curses under his breath, feeling his arms going numb —the pleasure is too overwhelming for him to maintain a steady pace, but he makes an effort. “Make me come, baby. Squeeze my cock until I come inside you”.

The dirty talk, combined with his gaze and the future promise of offering you that something only he can give it to you, makes you reach your orgasm again.

“Coming,” you cry quietly, wrapping your legs even tighter around his hips. You arch your back against him, and he hugs you tightly in place while he continues fucking your pussy, just as much as your grip allows him too.

“That’s it,” he praises, leaving wet kisses on your forehead and cheeks while you overcome your high. “Are you going to let me come inside you tonight? Fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes!” it’s all you manage to say in the midst of such a devastating arousal. “Yes, yes, Haechan”.

He buries his face on the crook of your neck, and keeps on fucking your swollen pussy until he achieves his orgasm too.

A hot, sticky feeling is quick to flood your tummy, as well as your inner thighs. He continues fucking you slowly and gently, even after coming, to prevent his arousal to leak out of you.

“Shit,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck so that he plops down on top of your body, “I can feel you”.

He hugs you into his embrace, while still inside you, and attempts to stabilize himself before leaving the bed to provide you with some wet towels and water. Truth be told, he wishes to stay like this forever, with your naked body underneath him, and his leaking cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “I know it’s-”

“Hey,” you cut him short, cooing softly. “We can talk about it tomorrow morning”.

He gets the sense that you're comfortable right now, despite the early fight, so he follows your plea compliantly.

“I’m an asshole,” Haechan jokes.

“Sometimes,” you scoff softly, finding his hazy gaze in the midst of the dim lights. “I’m glad you can acknowledge it”.

“And I’m glad you still keep up with it”.

[joshxmorgan]

( JACOB ELORDI, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ) JOSHUA MORGAN the THIRTY year old is said to remind people of BRUISED AND BLOODY KNUCKLES & EXPENSIVE CARS LINED UP IN A GARAGE THAT ARE NEVER DRIVEN. they are known to be FLIRTATIOUS and IMPULSIVE which makes sense when you think about how they were an BOYFRIEND to Violet. their darkest secret is BOUGHT DRUGS THAT HE GAVE TO A FRIEND WHICH CAUSED AN OVERDOSE but i guess we’ll find out for ourselves. { DANI 28, GMT, SHE/HER. }

Full Name: Joshua James Morgan

Nickname: Josh

Age: 30

DOB: October 23rd 1993

Parents: James & Amanda Morgan

Siblings: n/a

Hair colour: Brown

Eye colour: Brown

Piercings & Tattoos: here

Sexuality: Heterosexual

LINKS

character playlist

pinterest

connections

BIOGRAPHY

tw: n/a

Joshua hails from an exceedingly wealthy family with old money stretching back several generations. Born into luxury, he grew up in a sprawling estate in Vinewood Valley, California. His father, James Morgan, is a powerful real estate mogul, and his mother, Amanda Morgan, is a renowned interior designer.

In school Josh didn't care for his grades or to learn much at all. He was into sports and that's where he excelled and enjoyed his time. His journey through school was more about maintaining the family name and enjoying the privileges of elite society than actual learning or personal growth. He knew his name held some power.

He enjoys activities that bolster his image of power and opulence. He is an avid yachtsman, often hosting decadent parties on his luxury yacht. He also has a penchant for high-end cars and is frequently seen at exclusive events, flaunting his latest acquisition.

Following in his father's footsteps, Josh holds a high-ranking position in the family business. However, his role is more of a figurehead, with the real work done by a team of competent professionals who cover for his inadequacies. He uses his position to indulge in lavish parties and extravagant vacations.

Josh is known for his abrasive and entitled demeanour. He's unapologetically rude, often belittling those he deems beneath him. His arrogance is matched only by his sense of superiority, making him a difficult person to be around. He has a reputation for being a cheater. He also believes that rules and ethics are for those who cannot afford to bend them.

In his personal life, Josh is notorious for his infidelity. His relationships are superficial, marked by a series of short-term flings and broken engagements. His charm and good looks draw people in, but his true colours quickly show and if they don't drive them away they eventually get burned.

His latest ex being Violet who he had been dating for nine months before she turned up dead. Unfortunately much like the others he had continuously cheated on her. It wasn't a secret to anyone what he was up to and of course it was no surprise. For whatever reason she chose to ignore the rumours, deny that it was happening and continued on happily dating him.

HEADCANONS

is a lover of gaming and enjoys bullying kids online

leonardo dicaprio attended one of his yacht parties and discussed why he doesn't date older than 25 but josh promised to never spill

helped kendall jenner write her famous line in lil dicky's 'freaky friday' song

insists he turned down the role of matt brody in the baywatch reboot so that zac efron could have work because he was going broke.........

he is a swiftie

proposed to miley cyrus when he found out that she was engaged to liam in hopes that she switched to him

started a twitch account randomly, became one of the highest followed people within a week and then ditched the account because he was bored of talking to people while gaming

was banned from a gta rp server permanently for saying and I quote "fuck you, you're all a bunch if bitches and I don't have to follow the rules because I am Josh Morgan. If you look at me one more time you ugly big backed bitch I will VDM you so hard you land in a whole new server.. and don't even get me started on you Amy you are the worst cop in a server I have ever met, do you even know how to hold a gun? Fuck you, fuck you and seriously fuck you. What the fuck did I say big backed bitch? Look the other way." Then proceeded to hit everyone with his car.

one time she adopted 5 dogs from the shelter with his parents money at 19 and his parents threw a fit but they kept the dogs

threw her drink on logan paul once at a club because he could

often pretends he doesn't remember peoples names or them just for fun

told ashley tisdale that if she wanted he could be the next baby daddy

[unproduciblesmackdown]

why is reassurance about omnipresent omnipotent Love needed like. it's love(tm) has there not Been that assurance & affirmation all over the place all thee time. "but all the hate in the world...see what it does..." does that even mean "hate" or does that mean "people feeling entitled to a superior status ft. its intrinsically promised superior power" like re: the limitations of "hate crimes" meaning there's a need to "prove" "hate" in the "intent." where do we see Love as this guaranteed antithesis to a systemically granted entitlement to power to constrain someone's life. parents loving their children, And Yet. partners loving their partners And Yet. friends loving friends never stopped there from being disasters in how people are treated in that sphere. versus: people giving the most essential support to people they have no personal connection to, no direct connection to, no basis for having particular feelings about them one way or another beyond knowing they're also people in a vulnerable situation. people flourishing by themself. people learning how to relate to themself positively In Spite Of the Love they've experienced. how actions, interactions, relations are guided by principles that are not contingent on the affective, re: Feelings, but on externally evident contexts and patterns and consequences. what of it if you're Hated by someone whose ability to manifest that or not has no control over you still living your life b/c nobody's entitled to someone feeling a certain way towards them but someone feeling a certain way towards someone doesn't entitle them to enforcing a status of Less on them in any way either. why's something Internal have to be considered universal. why's anything have to be considered universal, as though if there's anything that doesn't apply to absolutely anyone then those outside that might be Less in some "legitimate" way. there's that: you're a person and they're a person, and who are you to consider yourself More of a person than them, and who are they to consider themself More of a person than you. "this too is Love" what if it isn't

is any idea of Love challenged by potentially Not subsuming more precise, nuanced, granular, complex, perhaps incongruous concepts into one vague assertion. what of recognition. acknowledgment. respect, care, intimacy, collaboration, accompaniment, without fundamentally necessitating particular emotions, status, even particulars of relationships. "relationships" in the sense of how does xyz affect abc & vice versa: relationality. "if you want or enjoy anything: love" how about everyone's experience of their interiority is their own. why is it important for you to believe a particular commonality must be at play. "if you don't believe in eternal torment of your damned soul what's stopping you from killing everyone rn" = "if you don't believe in Doing Bad Things Feels Bad what's stopping you from Doing Bad Things rn" = "if you're guided by the Good Feeling Love you'll be Doing Good Things" like, will you. when people instead attach any concept of Love to more fundamental concepts of respect for everyone else as equals to oneself and what actions and principles support others then it's like i mean yeah sure same diff in this case. when it's about how something that originates as a personal interior experience is a claim over any/everyone else's? whyme (rhymes with "rhyme"). versus anything that may be considered Universal being something that also does not necessarily stem from or is not contained within any particular self. universe is universal? everything affecting the existence of everything else? doesn't start or stop in any particular person's experience as themself, the way their thoughts and feelings can. i can't think of any of the like Concepts Ideals Principles Beliefs etc i would have that i'd describe as "love." and what of it. works fine for anyone who does so long as that Love is not something that must be Universally Human(tm) or where any willingness to consider some idea synonymous / overlapping / relevant does not just so happen to require "so you still really mean Love :)" like as though a christian universalist was still gonna have to always be telling people how jesus is everywhere & all good things are jesus, vice versa. like if you think everyone will be reconciled with christian god in the end then why do you need to push it. if everything is Love & Love is behind anything that helps anyone then what is there to convince oneself or anyone else of. what is there even to talk about. versus if i were to find/replace "love" with "politics" in that sentence & then in any instance there would be plenty to talk about lmao b/c it would have to do with any specifics about the situation & any events/actions/external matters that could be relevant. the actual Reality of your Real Feelings start & end with you even as they also play into how your existence affects others' existence. gotta believe everyone else is feeling Love? okay, that would still be their own business lol. & what if they weren't. say love is everywhere & that's the answer: well no it isn't b/c we can discern what goes on in the everywherelove world. so anyways: what could we do regardless? feeling more love is self-contained i.e. your personal business. what of any/everyone else. die cry hate. love loses. recognition regardless of the emotions happening. being loveless. being despised. those who go "so anyways"

[areahouseforsale]

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[discyours]

I hate how rude some radfems are to you. You don't push the sexist and homophobic shit that TRAs believe, and are a nice, amazing person. Do those rudefems go after lesbians who push cotton ceiling rhetoric as much as they go after you? I highly doubt it. They could be focusing on helping other females who suffer from internalized homophobia, but instead they choose to act like this towards you just because you're a transman. They have to understand that being dysphoric =/= being a TRA.

Your voice matters and having dysphoria and being trans does not make you less deserving of female liberation than the rest of us. And also does not make you less of a homosexual person. Know that there are people who will accept you as you are, you're very strong and deserve happiness! 💐🌈

Also nobody, no men or transwomen, are ever entitled to you being attracted to them. You don't own anybody anything, sexuality-wise. I know you probably already know this, but female socialization makes it hard to interiorize it. But you don't own anybody anything, not even to other lesbians. You don't have to "examine your preferences" for anyone, nor be open to "sexual fluidity" (which is complete bs unless you're bisexual). You can just be you; you exist for yourself, not for anyone else. 

I’m not sure how to respond to this but thank you so much. I really needed to hear that.