I Think It’s Cute When People Say ‘my Butch’ Or ‘my Femme’ Like That’s Their Pet

Depression is such an effective tranquilizer that it creates a great opportunity for plot twists in your real life. I have a pretty consistent opinion of myself which is "low" and "never ending guilt and shame for reasons I don't understand."

Recently received feedback from two different editing clients that started with "Please pass along to Jacquelynn that she is phenomenal at her job" and "I was blown away by the evaluation I received."

You always hear about how depression (and anxiety) lies to you and distorts reality, but there is logically knowing that and then there is like, physical proof of it and you are suddenly Neo in the Matrix jumping out of the fucked up little tube machine.

Feeling rough lately.

Perhaps a niche trope but I love when a character has just escape a years long ordeal and tries to get in contact with people they know, only to meet strangers.

Going to his childhood home to find his family moved away, or died, and the house was sold.

Blindly stumbling home only for the stranger sleeping in her old bed to wake up and scream at her to get out before they call the cops.

Contacting a best friend and finding their number has changed; either the line is dead or the stranger sends back a confused ‘you have the wrong number!’ text or answers the phone and immediately the character knows something is wrong. Something has changed. The world has changed. So have they. And they are lost.

"You attract what you fear" ahhhh a tattooed stone butch that's a hot nerd, will treat me like a princess and wants a girlfriend always at her service who will listen to her for hours, how scary!!

If u want to write a story about a character that’s just you but hotter with a dark twisted backstory and magical powers and a pet falcon or something, I think u should just go ahead and do that. Who’s gonna stop you? The government?? Fuck the police.

Late night walks hit different when u feel empty and suicidal

sometimes it's not even enemies to lovers. sometimes you get handed the leash of a snarling, barking dog against your will and realize with dawning horror that you are now responsible for teaching it not to bite