It Turns Out Having An Agent Pass On Your Manuscript After They've Read The Whole Thing Sucks A Lot Worse

It turns out having an agent pass on your manuscript after they've read the whole thing sucks a lot worse than getting a rejection after they've only read a couple chapters.

For my perimenopause transmascs waffling about starting T

42 year old transmasc enby, only recently decided to start T because I'm fucking tired of getting misgendered as a woman - I had my first shot a little more than two weeks ago.

Meanwhile, I've been dealing with perimenopause symptoms for more than two years - hot flashes at night, and other weird shit. I also had the vague notion that perimenopause was fucking with my mental health - in the past couple of years I've had to increase my brain meds to pretty high dosages, and I never was entirely happy with how they were working.

But it was also impossible to quantify how much of that could be perimenopause and how much was just Going Through It with:

Going no contact with my mom for being a fucking transphobe

Getting laid off in April

Parenting a neurodivergent 12 year old

Dealing with a resurgence of dysphoria and deciding to do more medical transition

And I'm here to tell you all that shit about T MAKES YOU ANGRIER is just. Like. Scaremongering????? Because 2 weeks in I feel more clear-headed than I have in the last three years.

Which honestly feels pretty:

For real, I didn't realize the amount of brain fog I was dealing with until I woke up a couple days ago and went... wait. Why is everything.... not foggy????

So. Yeah. 42 year old transmasc enby who waffled for years about T, have struggled with my mental health for a few years and assumed it wasn't related to perimenopause, and two weeks into doing T I feel more clear-headed than I have in a long-ass time.

Prompt courtesy @creativepromptsforwriting with characters from Community Witch, my as-yet-unpublished queer poly romance novel (okay to RB)

Rav had left his partners looking at potential wedding dates when he ducked out to the kitchen for more coffee. When he returned, both Aspen and Nat were scowling at each other.

"What do you mean it wasn't a date?" Nat asked indignantly. "Of course it was a date!"

"It wasn't a date," Aspen insisted bullishly. "Because it happened completely by accident, and you'd never shown any interest in dating me in high school."

Nat rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake. You're as bad as Rav sometimes."

"Not that I'm disagreeing, but in what way?" Rav asked mildly, grinning when Nat jumped and cringed guiltily.

"Not being able to pick up on blindingly obvious social cues" Nat replied.

"Insisting that words have meaning," Aspen said simultaneously.

"Whoa." Rav held up his hand and perched on the edge of the couch. "Okay. Aspen, how did this start?"

"Nat suggested seeing if one of our many anniversaries is on a Saturday, which is how we discovered that we apparently different definitions of what 'date' means."

"Aspen thinks that spending four hours walking around town, including a romantic sunset walk on the beach, doesn't constitute a date."

Rav cleared his throat, but was roundly ignored by both of his partners.

"I didn't even know you were living in Parksville!" Aspen protested. "And you said we should 'catch up', not 'do you want to go on a date'."

"Earth to Aspen, 'catching up' is code for 'date', and I was hanging off your arm and making calf eyes at you the entire night! Plus, by your own logic, getting coffee shouldn't count as a date either, even though I kissed you at the end of the night."

Aspen crossed their arms. "I asked if it was a date and you said yes, which makes it a date."

"I think--" Rav began, only to be cut off once more.

"Aha!" Nat stabbed a triumphant finger in Aspen's direction. "If retroactive date-labeling makes coffee a date, then the first one is also definitely a date."

"Please. It was, like, a half-date."

"There's no such thing as half a date!"

Aspen shrugged. "You never dated William."

"No fair." Nat pouted. "You can't play the shitty ex card."

"Maybe," Rav said loudly enough to finally get their attention. "You could accept that different people have different definitions for social constructs like dates, and that different definitions aren't automatically incorrect."

"Right." Aspen said slowly, their eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just like different chili recipes are equally valid."

When Nat's eyes blazed, Rav cut their partners off with a firm, "No. Arguments later. Date-picking now, which means picking a date that includes all three of us."

"Fine," Nat sighed.

"Thank you. Now..." Rav gestured for Aspen to lift their legs so that he could sit between Aspen and Nat, with Aspen stretching out across his lap once he'd settled. "What about our first date with the three of us?"

"Oh, sweetie," Aspen laughed. "Now you're just opening a very similar but entirely new can of worms."

Rav blinked, puzzled. "Am I?"

Nat exchanged an amused look with Aspen. "What would you say our first date was, then?"

Rav took a sip of coffee in a futile attempt to cover his ears going bright pink. "When I was over for dinner and we finally, uh... you know." Aspen and Nat exchanged another, more smug look. "Well what would you say it was, then?"

Aspen cocked their head and thought for a moment. "The first time we did dinner and a movie?" they asked Nat.

"Mm. I was thinking the play. The movie had too much friend-hangout plausible deniability."

"Oh, yeah. You're right, I can totally see that."

Rav fidgeted uncomfortably as he turned an even brighter shade of pink. "That was a date? I thought..."

Aspen and Nat were both staring at him with shit-eating grins.

"I see that I was wrong to intervene," he grumbled. "I liked you more when you were arguing with each other instead of ganging up on me."

When Rav made as if to get up, Aspen octopused themself around him, nearly spilling his coffee. "Don't be like that," they whined. "Staaaaaay. We'll be good."

Rav gave Aspen a sour look. "I highly doubt that."

"Our feelings-and-fucking-versary is actually on a Saturday, if we're still looking at next year," Nat said, looking at her phone.

"Great!" Aspen exclaimed.

"We are not calling it that." Rav realized his mistake as soon as the words had left his mouth, sighed, and course corrected. "Or rather, we're not telling wedding guests about the fucking part."

"Deal," Nat and Aspen chorused.

"Remind me why I'm marrying you again?"

Prompt #1106: IYO (19)

Imagine your OTP where both of them cannot agree on what their first date was.

Editing my current WIP, and I'm pretty proud of this sentence:

Corey's answering smile was relieved as his shoulders descended from his ears to almost where shoulders were usually supposed to go.

Just got rejected for a job I applied THIRTY SIX MINUTES after I applied. These fake jobs are absolutely nuts.

Part 8 on ao3