#-extremely aggravated shrugging- I don't know what you want me to say! Genuinely!

[who-is-page]

I’m heavily pro-endo so that statement was meant literally (polytherian does not experience any form of plurality but calls themselves a system purely based on having multiple theriotypes).

Even if we were just talking about self expression. As a disabled person, does being radically accepting mean I have to accept nonhumans who are not disabled (who have said they are not disabled) using medical equipment to express their nonhumanity (i.e. someone using a cane solely for the purpose of showing they should not be bipedal). Because, it’s their right to express that way but it doesn’t sit right with me that I’m watching someone use medical equipment as an accessory. It’s not harmful but it’s also not something I can agree with.

I guess my point is. Where do you draw the line with radical acceptance? If we believe everyone about everything, if we accept every form of expression, at what point can we recognize what is harmful and not? If a couple people are hurt by it, is that harmful or just a personal opinion?

By no means is any of this meant as an attack. I’m really just trying to figure out where the radically accepting folks come from (as I once thought myself to be RA but found it brought on much toxicity and drama to spaces that weren’t that way before). As I said. I love Beastpunk for all its other qualities… just not the radically accepting (basically blind faith in my opinion) part…

Look, as someone who walks with a cane and wishes it was as well-loved and accepted an accessory as glasses currently are, so I'd get less shit about using one and accessibility for canes would be more baseline, I think you seriously need to reconsider why you can't agree with that. And why, even though you openly admit it isn't harmful, it's still being used as an example in this scenario.

Let's open the doors on this-- we're talking about a concept where we are trusting people to know themselves better than we know them, and where we are accepting the aspects about people that they cannot change, and where we are accepting people's non-harmful forms of self-expression. Where does any of that suddenly scoop your ability to think critically and deeply about information being presented to you out of your skull? I'm hunting through my essay and, you know, I simply just can't find the part where we yoink out your common sense or ability to question others.

Beastpunk is against plenty of harmful ideaologies and communities-- like pshifting, for instance, for historical reasons as outlined in the essay. You can be beastpunk and have opinions about what constitutes harm and what doesn't. But, as I said before, you're conflating radical acceptance as spoken of here with tucking tail and showing off your throat and belly, so to speak. You are confusing radical acceptance within this framework with an inability to confront others and to dig in deep to question why you are uncomfortable with something to decide if it really truly causes harm or if it's just internalized shit you need to unpack (re: the cane thing). And look, I cannot give you that skill. And being beastpunk requires that skill.

I cannot in good faith recommend beastpunk to you when you have so blatantly misunderstood what it represents, and seem to have a total inability to grasp one of the underlying, core principles of it.

Other folks are also welcome to chime in.

[samnelsonwrites]

Alone Chapter 3: Cute, Fluffy and Vicious

The conclusion of the school day had arrived. I needed to go to Jamie's after school since I felt like I'd been overworking myself lately and I need a vacation. Today's last lesson was double psych, which was an absolute drag! As soon as the bell rang its thunderous clang I sprinted out of the classroom at incredible speeds to avoid what I like to call "the end-of-day hustle". It is essentially where all of the students attempt to force their way through the corridors to escape this educational institution created to destroy young souls.

Jamie was leaning on the fence, appearing effortlessly suave with his beanie and a school bag was thrown across one shoulder.

"Hiya," I greeted Jamie cheerfully.

"Are you ready? We have four minutes before the bus arrives, we need to run."

"Oh no, I'm not scuffing my nice shiny Doc Martens," I grumbled.

Jamie approached me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Or are you just afraid you won't be able to keep up with my epically fast running speed?" he asked, smiling.

This man knows me so well; he knows I have a need to be the greatest at everything, and he is going to get me to run.

"OK," I say, "Race Ya!"

I sprinted as quickly as I possibly could, which isn't very fast. I'm perhaps the least athletic person you've ever encountered. Jamie isn't particularly athletic, but they are a seriously quick runner, which is extremely aggravating. I was ahead for a bit until I tripped over my laces and fell flat on my face, humiliating myself. Jamie, being the sweetheart that they are, saw me fall, paused, snapped a picture, laughed, and then continued running. I jumped up and sprinted; alas, I did not surpass Jamie, but I made it to the bus stop on time. When I fell, I scuffed my knees slightly, but it was only a graze. I was so short of breath when I reached the bus stop that I just sat on the floor, and Jamie joined me.

"Good match," he said as he extended his hand to shake mine.

"Piss off," I scoffed, panting still.

"Temper temper!"

In response to his rude remark, I stuck out my tongue. It was only a 15-minute ride to his place once we hopped on the bus.

When we arrived at Jamie's, Jamie dumped his bag in the front hall and said, "Mum, I'm home!"

Jamie's mother, Jean, was lovely; she had no idea we were dating because I don't want to come out as pan to adults just yet. Plus, Jean is good friends with my mum, and I'm afraid she'll tell her. Jean descended the stairs, her glasses perched on top of her greying hair and a fluffy duster in her hand.

"Kaitlyn! Jamie didn't tell me you were coming over, so it's great to see you " I despise being called Kaitlyn; only my mother and grandmother do. It gives me the impression that I'm in big trouble and it feels so gendered. 

"Hi!" I responded "I'm sorry if I'm imposing. Jamie suggested that we just watch some TV together tonight."

"No, you're not imposing; you virtually lived here! Are you staying for dinner? It's Mac and Cheese."

"No, thank you; I had a big lunch at school today." That was a lie; I had nothing for lunch other than a cup of coffee. Jamie gave me a concerned look.

We dashed upstairs, and I collapsed on the bed. Jamie had a really cool room. It had ambient lighting, an electric guitar, and a drum kit in the corner, and he had a king-sized four-poster bed, which I envied.

"How come you lied to my Mum?" Jamie inquired.

"What are you talking about?"

"Having a big lunch at school, I know you don't eat lunch" they said.

"I'm genuinely not hungry and don't like to waste food." I shrugged, lying again.

"Have you relapsed, Kit?" Jamie appeared to be really serious.

" Honestly, I'm alright." Jamie can see I'm on the edge of crying. They are aware of my food issues; I kept it under wraps for a while, but stress got to me and I've been neglecting it.

Jamie got onto the bed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"Look, I know it's difficult to talk about what's going on inside your head, but if you want to vent, I'm here to listen," Jamie stated.

"I don't want to appear to be unloading my traumas here, but it's just too much. I've started self-harming and not eating..." I burst into tears.

"Don't ever feel like you're trauma dumping on me; I'd rather you never stop talking about your mental health than just drowning in misery.".

“Thanks” I sniffed and snuggled into him. “Are we gonna watch TV or not?”

Jamie turned on the TV that was mounted on the opposite wall and selected an episode of His Dark Materials. We were still watching Series One since we couldn't find the time to hang out and watch it. I've read every one of the books, so I know what transpires but Jamie hasn't, so they are taken aback by everything that happens, which is hilarious to watch.

“If I had a daemon, what do you think it would be?” asked Jamie.

“Ooh, like a wolf or something,” I reply

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“It is, what about me?” I ask

“A panda.”

“A PANDA?” I scream.

“Yeah, you’re cute and fluffy on the outside but on the inside you are vicious,” Jamie replies.

“Fluffy, really?”

“Ok maybe not fluffy, but cute”

I leaned in to kiss them, their kisses were gentle and warm. They opened slightly, letting my tongue inside. Katy Perry doesn’t lie about the taste of cherry chapstick, it’s truly delightful. We made out for about 30 minutes after, not paying attention to the rest of the episode, as I predicted. 

“You do know how much I love you?” Jamie asked when pulling away.

“Everybody loves me.” I said sarcastically.

[seoultrippins]

focus | pjm | 01

Summary: Park Jimin is an extremely accomplished con man who takes an amateur con artist under his wing. What he did not see coming was you and him being romantically involved and with Jimin’s profession of being a liar and a cheater for a living, he realizes that deception and love are things that don't go together. Or could it?

Pairing: Reader x Jimin

Genre: Crime, Conman!Jimin, Conartist!Reader, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2851

Warnings: Cussing, Slight groping

Status: 1/?

A/N: Hey! It feels nice to be writing on tumblr, I've always wanted to. I 've grown accustomed to publishing my writings on AFF but I thought it'd be pretty cool to start publishing here. I hope you enjoy reading and I am not too sure how many parts there would be but either way don't be a silent rider. The smut in the next chapter will be intense however, so bless me.

From the lazy spin of the fans, to the recumbent light of eventide that will soon be starlit black, the bar soaks in the ambiance of this good night. It's a bar, in a hotel that has a name you could barely pronounce but everyone is attempting to appear proper in their high end suits and attire, as you are. Fidgeting through the skin tight dress you had on, you rested your arm on the bar countertop as you analysed the surroundings. The bar is hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the live jazz music that dominated the atmosphere. The crowd had a mixture of the young and the old and it was perfect. Perfect to source out for your very next victim. However, as you searched the throng, you felt a strong warmth around your waist and turned around as your eyes met with a desperate pair. Dressed in a suit two sizes bigger than required, the sloppy looking man insisted he had you in his arms. You wrinkled your brows as you realized where this was going, and it was destroying your good mood. Nervously, you removed the man’s hands away but his persistence remained. Whispering filthy nothings in your ears, your hands reached out to push the man away. Frustration boiled through your veins as you desperately thought of ways to remove yourself from the dreadful situation.

“Okay, you know what,” You chuckled nervously. “My boyfriend could be here any minute.” Your hands were busy pushing his persistent hands away as he laughed.

“Yea? I don’t see anyone. C’mon baby, no point lying..”

Rolling your eyes, you eyes scan through the crowd. Eyes evidently searching for someone you could confide in and that did it. Your eyes landed on the gentleman feasting on his dinner. Your eyes widened, handsome is a state of soul that carries through that man. He had that kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. He must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Lips curling into a soft smirk, you tug the annoying man harshly, eyes meeting his as he pulls away in shock.

“Look, he’s there.” Your index finger pointing to the handsome gentleman who caught your attention confidently. “Fuck off, really.”

Walking past the bewildered drunk man, you breathe your nerves away as you approach the gentleman. You watch the way he sits with such elegance - so poignant and dignified. His white suit was tailored to his frame, and his unbuttoned dress shirt allowed his flawless skin to breathe while his fingers were adorned with precise lines of metallic rings. Fingers wrapped delicately around his wine glass as you watch his eyes shift towards you when voluntarily slip into the seat in front of him. Placing your baguette bag to your lap, you watch him raise his eyebrow in question as you lean forward to explain yourself.

“Could you -” You stopped, turning around to look at the creep still standing by the bar countertop looking right back at you before whispering. “Do you mind being my boyfriend? Like just for a minute.”

Staring at the man in front of you, you watch him smirk behind his glass before gently placing the drink down as he leans back against the soft cushion of his chair. Extending his long, toned legs into a manspread, he leans his face against his fingers as he watches you. Growing confused, you began to fidget in your seat.

“You - you’re not a serial killer are you?” You asked.

He stares, fingers playing with his rings as he shrugs. “That depends. How many times does it take to get to “serial”?” He shoots back.

Your face contorted into a genuine thoughtful expression as you answer. “Uhm..five..?”

“Oh then, no we’re good.” He leans forward as he answers you with a straight face.

This man was something else. You thought to yourself as your lips curled into a smile upon hearing his response. Hand stretching out, you introduced yourself.

“Y/N”

“Jimin.” His fingers slip comfortably into yours as he shakes your hand. It was brief, friendly even - but the way his attractive gaze stayed on yours made it oddly intimate.

“Ha Ha, funny.” You mocked, as you took a sip of the red liquor swirling in the shiny glass. “I only came to you because you seemed awfully lonely. Eating your dinner like that, I just felt so so bad..”

“Yea?” He prodded you with an eyebrow raise. “Then that’s also the reason why you’re here alone, waiting for a non-existent boyfriend you can use to chase away creeps?”

Okay he had a point.

“Hey!” You frowned. “A girl needs time alone alright? Also, you started this unnecessary feud on how you were the best choice in this damn bar. I was just trying to avoid ending up in the newspapers as a missing person.” Your frustration is evident in your tone as he watches you intently.

Not long, the both of you were bursting into bits of laughter as you recount the trivial conversation. Your eyes shifted to your wrist, taking note of the 30 minutes you’ve spent conversing with this stranger and everything seemed oddly perfect. Too perfect even.

“Thank you,” You said as he rested comfortably on his chair. “Thank you for saving me.”

His lips curled up slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah we definitely showed him.” He says as his head points to the creep. The only difference was that he was knocked up, completely unconscious on the countertop.

You laughed. “Damn, was that what I was missing out on?”

As he laughs along, you watch him shift, toned body leaning forward and you couldn’t help but take note of the way his necklace dangled over his neck as he stares at you. “Can I walk you somewhere?”

The air in your lungs became stuck in your throat. This guy was extremely beautiful. His voice sounded like melted honey and it took all you had not to lean forward and take his lips in yours.

“Um,” You began. “I’m actually staying here, upstairs.”

“Really?” He says but you watch the way he fidgets in his seat, hands adjusting his rings and he runs his fingers through his hair - throughout, his gaze is fixed on you.

“Let me walk you there then.”

"Fuck." Jimin was nestled under you, your hips grinding against the evident arousal between his thighs as you drag your lips down his neck.

You shivered, feeling the way his hands travelled down your frame to your ass, squeezing the thick flesh mercilessly as forcefully grinds you against his arousal.

"Fuck Jimin, fuck do that again.." You whimpered.

Lips intertwined, you heart drops to your stomach when you took sight of the way he smiles between the kiss. You nearly forgot why you brought him up here in the first place. Not until the loud sound of your hotel room door crashing open did you remind yourself that you had a task to perform. Rolling your eyes, you switched into character.

"Oh fuck! It's my husband." As you watched Kihoon enter the room, you sprang into the area next to Jimin. Kihoon's fingers gripped tightly on the rifle as he pointed it towards Jimin's face.

"Kihoon wait-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kihoon groaned, his eyes gleaming as he faced Jimin.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jimin voices, palms up as he surrenders himself to the situation but you couldn't ignore the slight tint of smile in the corner of his lips as he does so. Is this man a fucking psycho?

"Just let him go Kihoon."

"You fucking cheated. No way, he's fucking dead." Kihoon screams, lines of veins bulging out his reddening neck as he does so. You noted the sweat crowding his forehead. "Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't do it."

At this moment, your heart was racing. You knew there was no intention of shooting Jimin, and it was aggravating to see the man next to you undisturbed by the scenario. His surrending palms were now resting comfortable under his head as he watches you. You sighed internally, coming up with a respond to Kihoon but Jimin cuts you off.

"I'm drawing a blank." He says, eyes shifting away from you to Kihoon.

"What?" Kihoon mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I think you should shoot me." Jimin continues, smile creeping onto his handsome face. "Let's be honest, you've been aggrieved."

"Don't mess with him Jimin. He's done hard time." You tried to salvage the situation as you fidgeted in your spot.

"Yea man, I've done fucking hard time!"

Jimin chuckles, eyes lazily shifting as he stares at you. "Man, if you had any idea what I was about to do to her-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Kihoon yells, his rifle still pointing at Jimin's face, but this man remains unconcerned.

"Please, come on, shoot me." Jimin urges. "You're really doing me a favour. Cancer. Tumour, the size of a peach." He lifted his hand to offer a visual representation as he chuckles. "Shoot me, you'll see."

"Fuck!" You groaned, rolling your eyes as you aggravatedly run your fingers through your hair. "He's onto us, Kihoon. Wake the fuck up."

You watch Jimin sit up slowly as he rolled off the bed. His eyes fixed on you as he fixed his blazer. "Just give us the money Jimin."

"Or?" He challenges.

"He'll shoot you in the neck."

Kihoon falters, eyes shifting to you. "I can't shoot a guy with cancer. My grandma had cancer.."

"He does not have cancer, you idiot!" You groaned. "Get out man."

Your perked up when you hear Jimin laughing as watches the situation unfold. "You guys suck."

He leans forward, sinful hands slipping into his pants pockets. "First of all, you gotta wait till she gets my pants off." He says as he walks to rest against the wall nearest to the door. "Then you gotta give me a chance to run, that's how you get the money and you should never drop the con. You never break. Die with the lie."

"How did you figure this out?" You asked.

"When you stole that creep's wallet before you came to me."

You heave in wrath and fury, you feel your ego breaking through your spirit. Frowning, you questioned. "Then why'd you come up here with me then if you're so smart?"

Jimin shrugs. "Professional curiousity." He walks towards the door before turning around. "Also, I love ass so I figured it's a win-win."

You groaned. "Fuck off Jimin."

"You suck baby."

The cold night was all around as you stepped out of the hotel. Tugging onto your sweater, you hugged your shivering frame as you made your way home. You feel the chill in your blood, coldness bringing the synapses of your brain to a stand still. However, you were still perplexed by the failed operation, and your thoughts kept replaying the scene in your brain. You groaned internally. All you wanted was to get home and sulk on your own.

Until -

"You really should be more aware." You ears perked up at the familiar melted honey voice. Rolling your eyes, you caught sight of Jimin walking up to you from behind, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. "I've been behind you for two blocks."

You stayed silent, footsteps hurrying but he prods you. "You didn't see me?"

"I don't have eyes at the back of my head." You responded.

"Well, if you're gonna play this game you might wanna grow a pair."

You turn to face him. He was the kind of handsome that got into your bones. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. Nonetheless, you brushed the thoughts away as you rolled your eyes. "I can take care of myself Jimin."

Shaking his head, he stops you. "No, you're going to get hurt." and when you don't answer, he offers. "Let me buy you coffee."

"I don't drink coffee." Hoping that would make him piss off, you failed, yet again, as he stood across you - silently staring at you. Groaning, you walked away. "Fine.

As he grabbed for the glass door, the two of you strolled side by side, stumbling onto the nearest café. You looked up to see his eyes already locked on you as he reached out to guide you inside the café, and the warmth of it sent an electric chill down your spine. As you took your seat, you gazed out the window at the to watch the thick blanket of snow that had blanketed the grounds. An icy serenade, a coolness to bring out the warmth within. As promised, Jimin comes back to the table with coffee cups in his hands.

"Thank you." You muttered softly, hands reaching for the cup as you caught his staring eyes.

"So, what's your thing?" You began, curious eyes finding his intense ones. "Inside? Roper? You can tell me."

He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee. "Everything. Been in this game for so long."

"Your story. I wanna know all of it if that's okay with you."

He nods, placing the cup onto the wooden table before leaning against his seat. Your eyes lingered over the spread of his toned thighs but chastised yourself for getting distracted.

"My grandfather used to run a crooked game in Busan." Jimin began. "Eventually, my father started shilling for him. One day they get burned. Mobbed-guy catches them throwing signals. Everybody's guns come out. Standoff. No way out. Except one."

Your eyes glued to the man in front of you, completely focused. "The Toledo Panic Button."

Your frowned. "What the hell is that?"

Jimin's chuckles and you don't think you'd ever get used to the sound of that. "You shoot your partner. Proves you're not together."

Mouth agape, you internalize the way Jimin casually spills horrid, explicit details on the world he's associated with. "So your grandfather killed your father?"

"That's the world you're in. Dabblers get killed." He shrugs, raising an eyebrow as he sips on his coffee.

God, was he hot.

You sighed. "Look, I wasn't born into this like you. I was a dyslexic foster kid. No prospects, no future. I mean, it's a minor miracle I'm not a hooker right now."

Jimin smirks at that as he leans his elbow against the armrest. He can't deny that the picture of your delicate hands wrapped around a poll accompanied by the dimmed lighting indeed piqued his interest. Hands grazing his jaw gently as you catch the way his eyes scans your frame. Brushing that act off, you lean forward. "Tutor me, Jimin."

"No." He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"Why should I?" Jimin shoots back.

Groaning, you reach for your bag as you pulled out a leather Birkin. "Well, look, I could pay you, if that helps ."

Jimin crosses his arms, lips curling into a smile before eventually transcending into a contagious laugh. "Y/N, whose wallet is that?"

"Um," You flipped the wallet open, tugging onto an identity card. "Dr Kim Wooshik?"

He does not reply immediately but stares at your hopeful face.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Jimin says before you could register. Head whipping up to the man in front of you, you watch the way his tongue swipe between his lips, wetting his lower lip as he awaits your response.

"I- are you serious? How do I contact you then?" You stood up when he did.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he closes up on you. Handsome face leaning towards yours as his supple lips lands on your right ear to whisper, "I'll call you."

As he leans back, your eyes catches sight on his hand lifting to your face with your watch in his hands. Eyes widening, you lifted your wrist to find it empty.

"How-"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Stay safe." He walks away, turning around briefly to flash a smile as you stood alone, baffled.