#also i started shaving my armpits but that was so my mom would shut the fuck up about it

[greenvertumna]

Me: human body hair is natural why should we shave it

Also me: damn my eyebrows look better now that i’ve plucked them

[tinlizziedlinwa]

Developing Sexuality, Discovering Kinks, a Spinal Injury, and Barely Beginning to Explore the Edges of the LGBTQ+ Community

Howdy, y’all.  I’m just gonna put this out there - If it’s not for you, just keep on a’scrollin’!

Now, I’ve not really explicitly spoken about my sexuality and how it’s evolved over my almost five decades of life.  So, I’m about to start, and believe me, your patience and kindness will be appreciated.  If you choose to be a close-minded, conservative, cis-asshole then I strongly suggest you leave right the fuck now.  Thank you :-)

If you want to get to know me a little bit more and talk of incontinence and sexuality doesn’t scare you, please continue!

Decade 01:  Around four years old, I have my first memories of things related to my as yet totally undeveloped sexuality.  No history of physical abuse - Don’t worry about that.  It was finding my mother’s menstrual pads.  I saw pictures of them in underwear, so I took one and put it into mine.  It felt so right and so amazing!  I don’t really know how to describe it, but it felt like I needed the whole package of them in my underwear all at once!  I got in trouble for using up a package that my mom needed and I didn’t understand why she needed them yet.  But I made my first “diaper” out of pads and tighty-whities when I was only four years old.  Since I’m gonna be using a lot of numbers, I’m gonna cheat and sacrifice the “proper way” of spelling them out if they’re ten or less.

At 5, I knew I wasn’t built right.  I had this thing I peed through that girls didn’t have.  Boys had them.  But I wasn’t supposed to be a boy!  I didn’t like it and hated the feeling of it touching my legs (still do...).  I started asking questions about things.  Now, my parents are the stereotypical Boomers, “trapped” in a loveless marriage by dependent children and their own sense of “honor.”  Dad was a Medical Corpsman who became a Physician’s Assistant (PA) after retiring, while Mom used to be a Wave (nurse) in the Navy, but became a stay-at-home Mom when she started having children. I’ve 2 brothers and 1 sister, the last of them born 10 years before me.  So, when I questioned things, Dad’s response was usually to hand me a medical book and tell me to look it up.  Mom’s response was usually, “go ask your father.”  So, there I was, a 5-year old with a head full of partially-understood terminology (at best!) and a bunch of clinical photography in anatomy and physiology books.  At least I learned the purely physical differences between boys and girls and why I was one and not the other.  This made me mad.  So. Very. Mad.  I cried a lot for a while, finding out that I would never become what I feel I was supposed to be.  But I kept reading....

When I was 6 years old, I wrote a letter to my parents explaining how I felt about my body and how it made me feel inside and how I wished I could change and be the girl I’m supposed to be and would they be ok with helping me do this some day?

It was not received well.  Not well at all.  I’ve spent the last 40 years trying to get over their reaction to it and I still hate them for their reactions with a passion.  I feel like I was truly shattered, and the glue I’ve had to use over the years to put myself back together has never been the right type and pieces of me keep falling apart.

Entering Decade 02 (10 to 20 years old):  Puberty, damn it!  None of my “researches” had even hinted at ways to stop it, and my body started changing in ways that made me very uncomfortable, but there was also this attraction I kept feeling towards some people, and I started getting erections.  Now, I knew what was happening and yes, it did feel good to play with myself, but it also felt wrong in that I should have someone entering me, not me entering them, so when I masturbated that’s what I dreamed of - being entered and feeling them expand inside me, them giving themselves up in me, losing control and exploding into me and feeling their satisfaction as my own at having been so desirable.  Cockwarming them gently back to hardness and having my own way with their body as their hands stroked my breasts and hips.... Eventually I would orgasm in real life, while dreaming my dream.

I have never had a blow-job.  Several girlfriends have attempted, but honestly that’s like the fastest way to shut me down.  It instantly kills my dream between one heart-beat and the next, causing me to feel absolutely horrible about myself and this carcass I’m trapped in.  I should be going down on you, tasting, caressing, nuzzling and lapping up your wetness as I get more and more achy and wet for you.... Sticking my dick in your mouth is absolutely the worst thing that can happen during any attempt at sexy-times for me.  I’d rather have diarrhea on a crowded school-bus.

The problem was, I had been emotionally terrorized by my parents (and now I know how they controlled my access to information...) and the area I grew up in was populated by fairly conservative folks, so I had no exposure to other ways of living and had no idea I could express my sexuality in any way other than by being masculine with it.  Ergo, I was very much in the closet, hiding my thoughts and feelings as best I knew how, and retreated from situations that might expose my inner workings. Hence, I’m an introvert who overshares o.0  Start unstacking the bricks from my walls and Watch Out!  You might get more than you bargained for :-\

Decade 03 (20 to 30 years old):  I was just positive I didn’t want kids.  Also had no clue what to do with myself, so I landed in Alaska for about a decade.  Isolated, small town, conservative folks (a church on every corner, attended at least twice a week).  Repressive.  No sex for 8 of those 10 years.  Met my (now ex-) wife up there.  Internet actually got off the ground and we bought a computer, modem, and had an AOL account!  This was around 2002′ish or so.  Yeah, I watched the twin towers fall on a tv in a bar in Alaska.  But while in Fairbanks, I discovered the old Usenet Newsgroups... and that led me straight back into my diaper-fetish which I’d almost forgotten about... omg, seeing those first photos... I can’t describe the feelings that burned in me.

Decade 04 (30 to 40 years old):  Left Alaska and moved to western Washington State.  Worked as a Medical Assistant for about 5 years, then re-invented myself as a welder when I got a Federal job.  Learning a whole new trade wasn’t easy.  Shittons of practice later I was good at it and loving my career, until a toolbag fell on my head in 2008.  It could have killed me had I been in any other position.  As it was, it hit the top of my head while my spine was almost perfectly straight up’n’down, causing a couple of discs in my neck to blow out.  One completely ruptured and the other bulged so badly it could never heal and restricted my movement (couldn’t look up or pull my chin in).  To this day I still have a smallish “shadow” on my cervical spinal nerve where the disc exploded and a “dent” where the next one down bulged out.  The doctors think that’s why I’m incontinent and really struggle to get hard-ons anymore.

Here’s the rub:  I’ve hated this body of mine forever.  I’m not supposed to get hard-ons in the first place!  I’m supposed to have breasts, hips, hair, a flat front and a curvy bottom, and you should be making passes at me, not vice versa!

So, rather than pursue medical (surgical) options to deal with the urinary and occasional fecal incontinence, I choose to wear diapers and give myself regular enemas.  This way I can kinda (mostly) control the #2 and keep it from happening in public, while I can let my bladder just run on it’s built-in autopilot (which is really random, btw).  Wearing diapers also helps me with tucking!  I can  pull the dick out, pop the balls up inside where they belong, tuck the dick as far back as I can and put my diaper on tight.  Bingo!  A flat front!  And a bit of a poofy bottom!  YES!!

Decade 05 (40 to 47′ish years old):  I’m beginning to feel slightly more confident in my sexuality, though I’m still not comfortable actually trying to seek out anyone special... but yeah - I’m an introvert by nature.  Probably need to get adopted by someone because I’m not sure I’ll ever really be brave enough to really reach out first....  But now I’m able to afford nice diapers, I’m buying women’s jeans/pants/sweaters/onesies, and I’m feeling so much better about myself when I’m able to dress up.  Keeping my chest and legs shaved helps, too.  When I look down and see long, course, curly body-hair... ugh.  Hair in the armpits and groin is what’s normal.  Chest hair?  Get it off!  Looking at myself in the mirror, I still hate many aspects of my physical self, but when I’m freshly shaved, diapered and wearing women’s jeans and a lovely pink sweatshirt or just lounging around in a cute diaper and huge sweater, I’m much more able to ignore the things I don’t like.

Lately, as I’ve begun exploring my sexuality a little more, I’ve discovered the joys of dildos.  Lemmie tell you what, guys.  A traditional male orgasm doesn’t hold a candle to what I’ve felt while playing with a good dildo.  After a good, thorough clean-out in the shower (I have a shower-attachment with multiple nozzles and use the long black rubber one), I’ve used a dildo that’s got a bit of a bend near the tip - it’s shaped like a real penis, normal size (not humongous), with a bit of a crook near the glans.  By holding the balls & suction cup in hand, it can be inserted and moved in-n-out at that perfect angle to stimulate *all* the right spots inside...  I can honestly say I’ve peed, cum, and blew that dildo across the room as my knees hit the floor and I forgot my name during the best, most intense, can’t-walk-for-a-minute whole-body orgasms I’ve ever experienced in my life.  The area between the anus and scrotum feels so very hot and heavy, like it’s going to burst, it’s not truly painful but almost close? - It’s an amazingly satisfying feeling.  I’d love to hear from you girls out there... Are my orgasms anything similar to yours?

Some day, my dream is to meet someone who can understand me, who can feel where I’m coming from, who can love me even when I’m having difficulty loving myself.  Someone who is kind to my broken soul, and who’s idea of a hot date may involve a stop at the adult toy store!

Edited on 01OCT2021:  I’m not looking for a Mommy or a Domme.  I’m an adult with adult responsibilities and concerns.  I’m looking for a partner who’s also fairly self-sufficient.  I own my own home, work full time, and being an introvert I need lots of alone time.  Someone who’s open and accepting of the fact that I’m diapered 24/7/365 and am perfectly capable of changing myself.  And she’ll understand that I don’t just wanna get her out of her jeans for sexy-times, but I also wanna try them on.

Edited again on 02OCT2021:  As I’ve just begun actually  exploring my sexuality, I’m starting to think I seem to fit into the “enby” grouping (even as I don’t like being stuffed into a box, I find myself doing just that, to myself!  Damn categories...).  I don’t know all the lingo yet and it feels like the terminology is a living thing that is always changing.  Even though I’ve always found women to be super attractive, and I also really enjoy wearing women’s clothes and have dreamed of being a woman for decades, every once in a blue moon a guy really turns me on.  I’ve got fantasies about going down on her while he enters me, his hands on my hips pulling me in as he gently thrusts, speeding up slowly as I’m getting wetter, he’s sliding in and out of me faster and faster and I’m lapping up her juices, buried in her scent, the orgasm in all of us building until we simultaneously explode.  Then, once we all have our breath back, each of us gently diapers one another.  The idea of feeling my diaper sticking to my bum as his seed dribbles out of me is really turning me on again right now!  Hearing our crinkles as we move, cuddling in a contented pile, patting bottoms all around.

Am I a “bottom?”  Is there such a thing as an independent “bottom”?  More research is needed!  

[mauserfrau]

Mau's Very Silly Headcanon Post

Since I have two pieces of fiction going live this weekend and they’re both going to be late due to butting into each other XD.

I did another one here and there’s going to be some overlap, but less bodily function stuff in this one (mostly spit) (also some vague references to medical trauma).

A lot of this is small potatoes because I didn’t want to spoil anything.  How Phaseleech actually works ends up being a plot point in what I have pending, so I actually can’t just come out and say what’s going on.  That said, I’m sure there are people here who want to know what’s on my mind, but who don’t want to sit through 50K words with half a dozen squick warnings.

That said: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauser_Frau

Questions welcome, about this, anything else I think about Borderlands, what exactly is in Chapter 13 of Satellite, if it’s true the one flashback actually happened to Mom... 

Both

-Look, the only thing I did that’s appreciably off-canon is let them have emotions.  Maybe I drove into left field with what those emotions were, but that’s really all anybody’s got to do to fix this situation.  Go with the deity of your choice.  

-If I was headed for a Gearbox ending, it would be for the scrapped one, not the one we got.  See this and this other thing.

>>>I would still have written the twins as having something resembling a meaningful relationship regardless of whether that turned out romantic or not.  As things went and are, them as a couple was something I knew how to write and my mom shipped them (no, I’m not kidding).  

-I’m not going for a canon ending.  Mercy, did I find a thread I could snap and take the whole sweater out.  

-Both had blue siren markings when they were born; Troy’s turned red after they were separated.

--Which was a complicated mess-- they were upside-down verses each other and had several secondary adhesions, the most notable of which was Tyreen’s face to Troy’s thigh.

---Leda never 100% recovered from the emotional or physical trauma, but she put on a brave face for the last sevenish years of her life.  

---Troy’s tissue loss was severe and left him with a notable pit in his upper right side.

---Tyreen also has heavy scarring running from her right armpit to her right hip.  It’s not as complex, but it is very visible.  Missing a fair amount of intestine compared to the average human, but this has apparently never bothered her beyond the fact that visiting the toilet when you don’t eat is not fun.

-Semi-identical twins. Have 82.5% of their genes in common.  LSS, neither one is a parasite.  They’re two sperm plus one egg and they didn’t divide right.

--Ms. Phaseleech* didn’t know any better.  #oops  

--If you get them relaxed enough, they will indeed curl up together in their “fish” position.

-Tyreen is the one who would wail first if separated from her brother when they were very small, but they don’t like being apart even as adults.  

-Both very well-read, used to recite The Odyssey to congregants instead of scripture (‘cause they didn’t have any scripture). 

-Good to excellent hunters. Depends what they’re hunting and if they’re together.  Prefer to go barefoot if there’s no one else around.

-The circumstances surrounding Leda’s death are appreciably worse than fanon baseline to the point I don’t think I ought to leave them lying around in a Tumblr post.  

-Both have wavy hair if they don’t iron the daylights out of it.

-Prefer to be on the road and around people, even if a fair amount of those people are going to end up dinner.

-Get weirdly soft-hearted around kids, especially little boys with a similar complexion to their own.

-Do they have any concept that they’re horrible people? Yes, but it’s very academic and not something that motivates them.  You’d be way more likely to hear them frame themselves as hedonists, which also explains their worldview to a certain extent.  

~*~

Troy

-Skinnier than most other Troys.  You could put him in a room with every fandom Troy and sort them by muscle mass, you’d find him at the bottom end, partying like this was an accomplishment.  

-Has an X-linked connective tissue disorder which is more extensive than he lets on.  He really should not do about 90% of the stunts he does because of the vascular involvement.

-Made a categorical decision to treat the associated pain with a lot of cannabis and massage.  Has a distinct resin and honey body butter smell because of this.

--Also, if you get him off-hours, there’s going to be a fair amount of “but why are we here, man?” discussion.

-Has a kink in his upper back.  His spine tilts to his right.  Not super noticeable, but if you were on massage duty, you’d realize something felt out of place.  

-Used to get catastrophic nosebleeds, though these have lessened in frequency and severity over the years.  

-After a certain point, has a permanent latching socket port installed on his right side, allowing him to switch arms out as he likes.

--Because he has a selection of eccentric ones.  What? It’s a challenge to learn to use non-human aspects like claws or feathers or forty joints in a tentacle.  

--Still flounces around without one if nobody of consequence is watching and generally won’t sleep with one in.

-The insides of his ear gauges are messy and don’t even get him started on changing the jewelry on any, erm, other piercings he might have.  (Nipples and one off-center PA.  That was QUITE enough after what it took for his tattoos to cooperate.) 

-Will frame any illness or off-day as a migraine, which he does get.

-Had really bad teeth before his mouth mods.  After that, has none of his natural teeth remaining.  Primarily uses his exceptional bite radius to annoy others, show off, eat sandwiches in a disturbing fashion and do unspeakable things in bed.  They’re for show.  They’re not functional in any serious way.  

-Doesn’t have great control of said mouth mods in the heat of passion or if you get him laughing hard enough.  Hope you like spit!

-Still has rather heinous-looking feet, but he’s concerned about losing his calluses if he has them fixed.  You’d be more likely to see him open on an operating table than barefoot in public.  

-Always wants to be the little spoon.  You’re a tink? You’re a third his size? So what.  He wants to be the little spoon.  Just give in.

-Genuinely likes tea, especially flower-based tea.  Favorite foods include grits, polenta, tamales, campfire beefy rice, beef and broccoli layered onto somebody else’s leftover noodles, beef curry, beef sandwiches soaked in jus, steak tips on day-old fries and look just give him a sloppy plate of starch and dead cow if you need him to shut up.  

-Drinks vodka so cold and over-filtered it tastes like water, then follows it up with extra greasy, burnt-to-hell texas toast while talking about his mother.

-Lactose intolerant.  Please do not feed the rat child pizza. Or chipped beef on toast.  No, not even if he begs.  

~*~

Tyreen

-Abnormally acute senses, especially hearing/smell and including a form of intuition which targets where things she can leech exist nearby.  She’s only aware of any of this in the context of it being different from how Troy’s senses work.  She knows where to get food.  Don’t most people?

-Doesn’t perceive herself as 100% human.  The Leech is part of her and she likes herself.  Mama said she was perfect.  The details are whatever.  You got a problem here? Well, that’s easy to fix… 

-Would have been sorted as a tomboy growing up, but had no companions to do so.  As is, prefers the company of masculine individuals, loves showing people up in a boyish fashion and is absolutely going to tune you out if you start talking to her about the topic.  

-Reeks.  You might smell something “off” with her around in a meeting room, but get her sweaty or worked up and forget it.  It’s not even a human smell.  Petrichor and spray paint, menstrual blood and chlorine, dead leaves and solvent.  It’s chemical, it’s uncannily biological.  It’s really not OK.  She can’t smell it and Troy’s used to it.  

-Doesn’t shave.  Has fluffy armpits that don’t match her dye job and a rather spectacular bush that extends onto her upper thighs.  Does pluck here brows and the witch hairs on her chin, but otherwise, you know what, nah.

-Heavily tattooed, but this is limited to her torso.  The viewing of said tattoos, as well as her scars, is a ritual in her particular CoV.  

--Not that she cares about being naked.  A body is a body.  You people are so uptight.  

-Will reflexively guard her lower stomach before anything else and sometimes in error.  Do not call her on this.  You will piss her off.  

-Has an eye-shaped siren marking, but it’s on her left shoulder blade and she tends to forget it’s there.  More aware of the “pointer mark” underneath her navel.

-Poor tolerance for any drugs.

-Can only ingest salt, sucrose and 80 proof or better clear alcohol without retching.

--Which is to say she doesn’t eat “people food”.  

--Fatty or high-fiber foods tend to make her ill faster.  She could possibly keep tofu or chicken breast down for an hour or more, but it’s still not going to end well.  

--Can and does eat cinder toffee because it’s one of the few things she can chew and digest.  Konpeito is nice too, but sometimes the dye upsets her stomach.  

--Milk, maybe.  Human works better.

-Enjoys swimming or long baths.

-Ambidextrous.  Was either born that way or picked up doing certain things left-handed because that’s what her brother had to work with and she had to show him how to do stuff somehow.

-Good with a forearm-mounted crossbow.  Either hand is fine.

-Used to drool precipitously when she leeched something “good”.  Mostly has a handle on this by the time the CoV gets to be a thing.  Mostly.  

-Deeply immature love language which might include her actually asking to play with her prospective partner and a good bit of bullying.

-SHE IS NOT SHY ABOUT HER NEEDS AND KINKS.  THE HELL WITH YOU.  YOU’RE MAKING SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING.  HOW DARE YOU.  DO YOU WANT TO BE SKAG BAIT ON THE NEXT LIVESCREAM.  UGH. #nottsundereatall

~*~

* The Leech IDed herself as, erm, herself in some stuff I’m not sure I’ll ever post but ANYWAY.

[sketzocase]

Okay y’all- brace yourselves. It’s a 2 AM random fandom question time!

You ever just had a thought and can’t explain it?

Like geeky/fandom wise?

Mine currently? (and spoiler alert- it’s ALOT)

-I would like to see how Uruk kias were made up close. I would also like to know how Saurmon got his fucking hair that straight. Like bruh- that’s Beyoncé level flawless.

-I know the Ents ‘lost’ their females or whatever, but I am obsessed with how exactly an Ent would go about mating. Also would like to point out that if a lady ent were to turn on her guy ent when they arise in the morning- she would technically be giving him morning wood.

-If Harry Potter can fix shit- why doesn’t he fix his glasses?

-Why the fuck would the ‘chosen one’ only use like... five spells? Come on Harry- get your shit together.

-I don’t think Dementors are inherently evil. I think they’ve been used that way but by being put to use via wizards- they really don’t get to decide- right? Aren’t they technically magical creatures? In which case, can we really not make a case that in using them in Azkaban, the wizards essentially made a kind of house-elf situation?

-Why the hell didn’t Bucky tell any of his friends what he’d done to them in his past upon meeting them? If I had worked with an asshole who killed a loved one and he knew it and never said anything to me fifty-something years late? Fuck yea- I’m pissed.

-Why the fuck does Azazel have a shit ton of kids but somehow only four survived? Like okay- in The Draco we could say that Nils is probably the youngest. And we can assume that Kiwi Black appears to be older than Kurt- who I guess if I was pressed we would say would be late 20’s early 30’s? This means there is a great few years where Azazel is either actively impregnating one woman after or another- or a time when he is a fuck hiatus only to come out a few years later and start actively impregnating women.

-OH- and Impregnating women can be hard! It can take YEARS! Does he just have a magic dick? Like... does something in his powers just make him a sex wizard? Can he get STDS? Can he heal himself if he does? How can he be sure that every single one of his offspring will be mutants? He had so many kids to open a portal- but the had to have some sort of teleporty power. How can he just see a kid pop out and be like ‘yup. It’s a mutant’.

-Why do all of Logan’s kid’s come out looking better than him?

-How does Daken have a tattoo when in ultimate x-men Logan gets tattoos of girlfriends to impress them, knowing it will heal.

-Daken’s tattoo pattern doesn’t really change much. Did he design it himself? When he loses that arm- b/c it’s ALWAYS that arm- does he get like super annoyed because he’s going to have retat himself up?

-How do Daken and Laura not have Logan’s ‘hairy motherfucker’ genes when both Raze and Jimmy Hudson seem to have got it??

-Does Laura have to double shave legs/armpits? Would she even think too?

-Is childbirth easier on Mystique because she can shape her body far more easily than a human? Don’t pregnant women’s like hips or something move or whatever? Can’t Mystique make it easier on herself?

-Are Johnny Storm’s bodily fluids hotter than most? If so, can he burn a partner by coming in them? Does he have to have like special insurance for his person/partner’s/items?

-Can Reed Richards assume whatever size dick Sue wants/needs at the time?

-Professor X makes a future kid with Mystique, does that mean his junk still works?

-Why the everloving FUCK did Remus wait so long to kill Romulus? Or try? Like he’s her twin- right? Can’t a sibling usually tell how sucky or evil a sibling is going to be pretty early on? Like my sisters a little evil- I’ve known it since she was three. Was there not a moment in their childhood where Remus just went ‘wow my brother is really fucked up. I should do something about that before he hurts someone!”

-Why the FUCK did she get Logan to try to kill her brother? Like bitch- you let it get this bad. Go handle your own shit!

-Theoretically, If Rogue wears something from head to two only leaving her lower bits exposed and Gambit wears a condom- can they have sex?

-Does Scott see different shades of red through his visor or is it all the same color?

-Is Colossus’s dick able to go full metal as well as his skin? Like- come on, what’s he packing under those pants?

-How does Sabertooth do day to day things if he can’t retract his claws- ever? Like does all of his shit just get scratched all to hell?

-How do heightened senses peeps function in normal society with all the extra smells/sounds? Is their taste enhanced? Can they do things like listen to headphones safely?

-How the fuck does Scarlet Witch work? Just like in general- I have a lot of questions.

-Why doesn’t Bucky seem to be aging really?

-how old ARE the x-men?

-Am I to believe that Bobby Drake is older than Cannonball? Nah. I don’t buy it.

-What happened to the Guthrie brood? Wasn’t there like... three mutant siblings?

-How the fuck did that one pairing (speaking on Guthrie) have sex IN THE AIR?

-How is angel ever able to do like... anything? Is it a pain to take showers if he has to get his wings all wet (assuming their feathers).

-Movie part here- in Dark Phenoix why the fuck didn't anyone tell Kurt- ‘oh yea, by the way? That’s your mom. Annnnd she’s dead.’ He was made an orphan AGAIN. Furthermore, why didn’t any of the original x-men who were on the beach react when he picked up a fucking knife and used real similar moves to his daddy?

-why didn't they explore that relationship more?

-Does Iceman have a ice dick? Like- he’s been pretty naked before. Where is his dick? Where does it go? If it is there does it react to chilly temps like other dudes?

-Can venom technically contaminate his host's partners if he is somehow involved in sexual relations WITH his host at the time?

-Why do so many aliens talk English?

-How do the x-men understand Doop?

-How do some of them understand Lockheed?

-How many top brains will be introduced only to be topped by someone else?

-How smart is Reed Richards?

-How long can Norman Osborn be the goblin? Are there any other personalities that he’s formed over the years?

-Why the fuck don’t the x-men permanently partner up with Legion? Like ... get on that.

-Why the fuck don’t they just shut the entire hellfire club down? That NEVER ends well and it’s got a lot of the same members over and over again- shut it down, keep it down.

Annnnnd... yea. Those are all my questions/thoughts.

[livingwithmyimaginaryfriend]

6 Things I Currently Hate on the Internet 😠😤😡🤬

These topics based on the internet that i have observed for many years including pop culture. Anyway, those are just my personal thoughts that may find to be “TRIGGERING”

1. Tik tok

Tik tok is one of the most popular apps in the end 2010s. It looks similar like Musica.ly Everytime when i watch this stupid shit compilation like dance, challenge or viral on Twitter, Instagram and Youtube, it makes me cringe all the time. The majority of tik tok users what i have seen are kids and teenagers or even called Gen Z.  I really don't understand why they are become famous because of tik tok like dance inappropiately frequently for underage, unfunny jokes, etc. even though they come from nothing. I also have a friends, and cousins who have a tik tok, then upload that video through Instagram stories, but sorry i don't watch it because i'm not interested, so i just skip it.

Thank god I don’t have a Tik Tok because i am absolutely loathe this app, and don’t want get into make the content such as challange (i.e. emo, barbie girl), and cringy dance to get a viral and views. When i make that content, it feels like i’m living with the wrong generation. (Whoops)

2. Social Justice Warrior (SJW)

This is the most atrocious I have ever seen in my entire life. It appears on Twitter. eveytime i scroll timeline on Twitter, it is full of anger, war, hatred, debate, and drama. Mostly, people tweet about religion, culture, feminism, politics, economics, and viral gone wrong. But OMG, most of the time, they're completely not constructive criticsm. It's like they don't want to be accepted or don't appreciate and scramble their opinion with somebody else. Of course, they treat their opinions as a facts. Then, i'll be like "fuck them, you need to find your hobby and stop making a war with somebody else that you don't know that person on Twitter". Of course, SJW needs to get a life and log out Twitter, so don't be outrageous.

3. Cancel Culture

When i pop up in my head, cancel culture be like “you’re cancelled”. Cancel culture is like especially for public figures including celebrities, influencers and politicians are exposed problematic to make a statements like homophobic/transphobic, assault cases, allegations, body-shaming, slut-shaming racist jokes, rape jokes, playing victims, supporting each other that people dislike, and many more whether in the past or present. When it comes out that problematic, eveybody rants them which is true or not, and then use that term “cancelled” or hashtag #isoverparty in Twitter to avoid public figures to stop being act so innoncent. It’s very fucked up for me Not only that, but also it’s so annoying if everbody says “you’re cancelled”. If  i was public figure for being called “cancelled”, i feel like i want to go  jump off the cliff and never want to see that term again. 

4. Beauty Standards

There are people mostly girls when you were born being ugly and insecure, you want to be perfect and glamorous like celebrities, and models on advertisement, magazine and Instagram. In Asian country especially my country, Indonesia,  there are so many beauty standards like for girls, like  you have to be fair skin, straight hair, curve body but not super skinny. And then, you don’t have to wear fully makeup like a clown, you have to look stay natural and glowing face without a makeup, for example wear a skincare. In contrast, if you have a dark/brown skin and curly hair, people probably think that you look ugly, trash, and stink. It shit happening, trust me. I mean, the majority of Indonesian people have natural brown and yellow skin, so  if they want to be fair skin like western people, they have to use skin whitening for face and body to make look bright. 

But not only that, in western country like US and UK, i found that they want to have full lips like lip filler, huge ass and tits from implants, tan skin by using a spray/lotion tan although white people’s skin are pale, botox, flat abs from liposuction, and skinny like Victoria Secret’s model or curvy like Beyonce, Rihanna and Nicki Minaj.

Besides that, another Asian country like South Korea, i found that mostly celebrities like boy/girlbands. and actors have had a plastic surgery to make look famous. There also found that korean people want to be super skinny like kpop idols, They should follow strict diet. And then, they want to have a light skin by using a skin whitening, they want to make a glowing face with using a skincare which is booming in korea. And don’t forget, they have to wear a full makeup, so they look more beautiful. In korean culture, their parents want to children to get a plastic surgery as a gifts if they have a good grades. Basically, korean people were born to be ugly face, so they have to get plastic surgery like make a doube eyelids, a big rounded eyes, a pointed nose. a v-shaped chin,and a slim jaw.

The reason why i hate is because it makes me feel more insecure, worthless and uncomfortable with my own skin. I just want to no longer follow their society like beauty standards. Beauty standard is should be not existed. It needs to go away, and needs to be stopped. I mean everybody looks beautiful not for me, but to all of you. Everybody need to be beautiful not only the outside but also the inside. You don't have to follow that standards including beauty that would be necessary cool, i promise.

I have to admit, my skin tone medium, not too fair or too dark. I am still using whitening lotion to exfoliate and to remove sunburn. Then, my face look chubby and i have a double chin, i wear a glasses. i have a fat tummy even though i am not a chunky not very slim. i have a hairy hands, armpits, stomach and legs. My mom won’t let me shave them because they will grow someday. 

5. Instagram vs Reality 

When i follow account including @Celebface, and @exposingcelebsurgery. I observed that comparing with celebrities, models, and influencers’ real photos or fake with using photoshop. Instagram VS Reality is absolutely garbage. Take a look at celebs’ photo everywhere with full editing like face,hips,ass, etc to make look professional.But in reality, they look different not  look like which is totally catfishing. Sadly, the cringiest part is there is analyze the angle with the wrong well-shaped. I mean when you look at the view of the background, you can see the curve appears that seems unprofessional, that is what i called failed photoshop. 

I don’t mean to blame photoshop, but it is so overused. The reason why i don’t like this is because it is full of manipulative for celebrities, models and influencer to make it look sexier than real life.  It makes me want to delete my instagram account and never want to see that again. 

6. Toxic fandoms in music community

Be a fandom is fun, and wonderful .But Hey!  Look at my Tumblr, Weheartit, and Pinterest, i have so many photos which include my favorite bands or actors. I’m also huge fan of the band particularly, rock bands and K-pop idols. 

However, sometimes being fandom is being toxic, overly defensive, and delusional.  The reason why i called toxic fandoms is because mostly they are intolerable, immature and annoying. Oh yeah, the similarity of toxic fandoms is called crazy stans. For example,when someone (hater or not) dislike an idol or band, crazy stans started trolling like send a death threats like “hope you get chocked”, "hope you'll die", “you need to go fuck yourself”, and many more. Also, when someone being called a fake fan because they know one or two songs on the radio or TV, they don’t like idols’ new song which is totally different then or support their relationship go public. Otherwise, they are very disrespectful with their idols' privacy, such as stalking at their house or hotel for almost 24 hours. PRIVACY IS A MUST. IDOLS ARE JUST HUMAN BEING. And you know the worst part is that when an idol is dead, they are extremely freak the hell out, they tend to commit suicide which is really dangerous so they want to meet their idol in afterlife. 

Based on my thoughts, being a fan with your favorite idol is the most precious thing. I would love to be a fans with the bands/idols but i don't want get involved be part of crazy stans. Like i said, they are not intolerable and delusional.

That's the end of my writing about six things that i hate. You may think that after you read this, you'll be like "damn, you're so hater, you're so jealous, and you're so bitter". Ugh shut up.

[iwasnthere622]

Hi My Name Is... (Ch. 2)

AO3 Link

"Jason," Sam Scott called out when he heard the front door open and his kids walk inside.

"Yeah?" Jason said, heading into the kitchen and finding her dad sitting at the table, dread tightening in her gut.

"We need to talk," Sam sighed. "Pearl, can you work in your room for right now?"

"Okay," Pearl said, frowning, giving Jason a hug before she left.

Jason hugged Pearl back with one arm, shifting her weight. "Yeah?" she repeated.

"Sit down," Sam said, watching his son carefully drop his bag and sit on the edge of the chair across from him. "You mind telling me where you were yesterday?"

Jason stared at him. "What?"

"Where were you yesterday, what did you do all day?" Sam asked.

"Uh. Well, school. Then I studied with some friends, came home around dinnertime," Jason answered, nerves making her heart race.

"School, huh," Sam said, wondering why Jason felt like he had to lie to him. "That's funny, because the school called this morning to let me know that you skipped school yesterday."

"Dad, I--"

"And that you've been missing afternoon classes recently," Sam continued over him, studying him.

"They're lying, I'm going to school!" Jason protested, heart racing, willing her dad to believe her. She'd only missed a few classes to take care of some putties, yesterday was the first time she'd missed a whole day and that was only because it hadn't seemed worth it, to go in for the afternoon half of the day when attendance was done in the morning...

Sam shook his head. "What's going on with you, Jason?"

"Nothing, I swear--"

"Don't lie to me," Sam said, voice hard.

Jason cut herself off, glaring at the table.

"You gonna tell me the truth?" Sam asked, but Jason stayed silent and he sighed. "I don't understand you."

"Yeah," Jason said bitterly, hands flexing in her lap, wanting to punch something.

Sam studied his son and wished he would just talk to him. "Go do your homework," he said, resigned, watching Jason stand up and grab his bag before reaching to the counter and offering him some papers.

"What's this?" Jason asked, frowning, taking them.

"I told the school you were out yesterday to go to the doctor's, for your knee," Sam said. "That's your sick note. I also told them you'd had to switch your PT timeslot, which is why you'd missed some afternoon classes, but we fixed it and it won't happen again."

Jason stared at the papers in her hands, not understanding. She hadn't done PT in months, and she definitely hadn't been to a doctor recently...

"Just... be careful, okay? Be safe," Sam said, standing and squeezing her shoulder before leaving the room and heading to his office.

Jason stared after him, heart racing, not understanding why her dad had covered for her, what did he think she was doing? He couldn't know, right? No, he'd have said something...

For whatever reason, he was going easy on her, giving her a way out, so she took it, slipping the notes into her bag and retreating to her room.

--

"Billy! Jason Scott is here!" Mrs. Cranston yelled, smiling at Jason who shifted, offering a small smile in return.

"Okay, mom, thanks!" Billy yelled, setting his tools down and heading upstairs.

"Hey, Jason," Billy greeted with a smile.

"Hey, Billy," Jason said softly, shifting his grip on his bag.

"We can study in the dining room, so we can spread out the books," Billy said, leading the way, the pair quickly getting settled and getting to work.

"So you just do... that?" Jason asked, balancing the chemistry equation.

"Yes, exactly!" Billy grinned, clapping happily. "You did it, Jason!"

Jason shifted, smiling at Billy. "Thanks to your tutoring."

Billy shook his head. "You did it yourself."

"Thanks," Jason said, glancing at his phone. "I should probably head home. See you tomorrow at school?"

"Yes," Billy said, standing up. "You'll do great on the quiz."

"Hope so," Jason said, nodding his thanks again and ducking out.

The next day at school, Billy watched everyone greet Jason, and he noticed something that he hadn't noticed before, eyes narrowing a bit.

He watched closely after that, and came to a realization: whenever anyone said Jason's name, he shifted away. It was subtle, which was probably why Billy hadn't noticed sooner, but he moved his weight, swaying in place. And not just in response to Jason, but also to Jase from Kim, or J from Trini, and even Dude or Bossman from Zack.

Billy had no idea what this meant, if it was a fluke thing today or if it'd always happened. Since his definition of normal tended to be skewed, he didn't say anything.

But it became a habit of his, to check Jason's reaction whenever someone talked to him. He thought it might be because he was still used to people using his name against him -- he heard the whispers, and could still hear them, where people said oh my god it's Jason Scott and they turned his name into a curse word.

He didn't want to upset Jason if that was the case, so he just tried to talk to him without using any name at all, which was actually easier than it sounded.

They were training after school on a Friday, just an hour to blow off steam since they'd all had some pretty rough tests to get through this week, when Jason flipped Zack over his head.

"Woo, go Red!" Trini cheered as Zack groaned.

Billy blinked, so used to checking Jason for a reaction that he almost didn't notice that there wasn't one.

He watched Jason closely as he and Zack fought, saw him twitch when Kim called him Jase but watched him grin when Zack called for mercy after Jason got him pinned and said, "Damn, Red, I'mma get your ass next time."

Billy filed the information away as he and Kim switched in to spar next, but he remembered when they were all splitting up at the bottom of the mountain to head home.

"Night, Red," he said, smiling when Jason grinned easily at him.

"Night, Blue," Jason said, walking away towards his house, and Billy thought that he almost definitely was carrying an unconscious negative reaction to his name, vowing to try to use Red more often. That one seemed okay, since that was tied to the team, to people who would never use Jason's name against him.

--

Jason double checked that all the doors and windows were locked before going to her closet, reaching into the back. She dug under discarded football gear, pulling out a small, fire-proof lockbox that her parents had given her when she was Pearl's age and started getting an allowance so that she'd have a safe place to keep the money.

She picked up the box, closing the closet door and walking quickly to the bathroom, shutting and locking that door, too.

She turned on the exhaust fan and set the box on the counter, using the small key on her key ring to open the box.

There was some money inside, sure, but the box largely contained mismatched makeups and beauty products, even a few small pieces of jewelry.

Ignoring those, she dug around and tried to ignore the stab of guilt at seeing some her mom's things hidden here, some from Pearl, and even Kim and Trini... the rest stolen from the local drugstore, hidden in large pockets because she knew there was no way she could ever buy it.

Maybe before the prank and the car crash, she could have played it off, a gift for her mom or Pearl or a girlfriend, but now, with how everyone looked at her, like she was a piece of dog shit on everyone's shoe... There was no way she'd be able to play it off, they would call her a freak, tell her parents, and the utter panic that that thought caused washed away the guilt.

And some of the things in here... her fingers lingered over the deep red nail polish... they were things she could never wear, not even on a day like this when she had the house to herself for a few hours, because they just took too long to come off, were too bright and vibrant to hide.

Shaking herself, she dug around until she found the women's razor and one of her few bath bombs, setting the items on the counter and pulling out her half-empty tube of peel-off face mask and closing the box. She turned to the tub, twisting the tap to get the water running to fill it up.

Careful to avoid looking at herself in the mirror, she stripped, testing the temperature of the water and turning the tap off. She dropped in the bath bomb and watched it fizzle and dissolve, lavender scent filling the room and the water turning a light purple.

She grabbed the tube of face mask and razor and set them on the edge of the tub, climbing in and settling leaning against the porcelain, smiling a bit. She grabbed the face mask and squirted some out, rubbing it on her face until it was coated, capping the tube.

She leaned back, closing her eyes and just enjoying the warm water and the fizz of the bath bomb, muscles relaxing as she soaked. Eventually, she reached for the razor. She took her time, carefully shaving her chest and armpits and legs, propping one foot up at a time, going all the way up her thigh, washing away all the hair and feeling relief at getting rid of it.

Eventually, she finished up and carefully stood up, toes and fingers pruned from soaking in the water so long, unplugging the tub and letting it drain while she switched the shower part on and rinsed off, eventually moving to dry off. She turned the tap on to make sure to wash out any remnants of the bath bomb, pulling on briefs and sweatpants, the material sliding against her smooth legs.

Double checking the tub was clean, she turned off the water and moved to the counter, carefully beginning to peel the face mask off.

She was always grossed out and a little amazed at how much crap was hiding in her skin, looking in the mirror only when she had to to make sure she got it all off, collecting the flakes to bury in her trash in her room -- it was easier to hide in there than in the bathroom, where someone else might see it.

Finished, she rinsed the razor out and opened her box, replacing it and the face mask and locking it up once more. She tugged on a baggy t-shirt and left the bathroom, hiding her box back in her closet and burying the face mask remnants in her trash.

An hour later with her homework done, she was debating between putting on a movie or going online when the front door opened downstairs. "Jason? We picked up dinner," her mom called.

Jason sighed, glancing around to make sure everything was hidden. "Coming!" she yelled back, heading to the stairs.

--

"I win!" Zack yelled, landing on the ground with a big splash of displaced water, Jason right behind him and soaking him when he landed, too.

Jason laughed, shaking out his hair. "Only 'cause you cheat."

"All's fair in love and war," Zack teased, leading the way to the ship.

"Too bad we aren't in either," Jason snorted.

"Rude," Zack huffed, kicking Jason and bolting for the ship, laughing at the curses and pounding steps that followed him.

He whooped in victory when he entered the ship first, moving to their stash of dry clothes and digging through for some of his stuff, finding his track pants and shifting through the shirts, laughing when Jason shoved in next to him.

"We should probably sort this," Zack muttered as he looked, giving up and pulling out one of Billy's blue shirts.

Jason nodded in agreement, not looking up as Zack began to quickly undress.

Zack stripped, not in the least bit self-conscious, pulling on the dry clothes with a contented sigh. He moved to drape the wet clothes over one of the ship's many weird railing nook things, noticing that Jason was still looking through their piles of clothes -- was he studying Kim's skirt?

"Need help?" Zack offered with a grin, watching Jason quickly drop the skirt and snickering.

"No, ah, thanks," Jason said, quickly pulling out a red t-shirt and sweatpants. "I'm just gonna change," he said, moving to hide from view.

"Don't know why you are so shy," Zack teased, used to it by now -- while the others might be okay with occasionally changing in front of each other, Jason always moved to change alone where they couldn't see him.

He moved to the pit to wait for Jason, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning when he finally showed up. "Finally! Let's go, Bossman!"

Two hours later and he was pulling Billy's shirt over his head, wondering why he'd even put it on in the first place. The ship had temperature control but sparring for a few hours worked up a good sweat.

By hour three, he'd rolled the legs of his pants up, too, shaking his head at Jason. "Aren't you dying?"

"I'm fine," Jason said, wiping sweat from his forehead, shirt damp in patches.

"What are you gonna do when summer hits? You're gonna have heat stroke!" Zack said, ducking a punch.

"I said I'm fine -- worry about yourself," Jason said, swiping his leg at Zack's and sending him flying onto his ass.

Zack cursed, landing hard on his ass, pushing himself back up to his feet and launching himself at Jason.

By the time they called it quits, they were both panting and sticky with sweat and ended up tied in their number of wins each.

They didn't bother changing, Zack just grabbing the shirt he'd worn and the pair instead leaving the ship and heading to the water entrance to jump up and through, the water feeling good after the workout.

Zack slicked his hair back once they were on the top of the cliff, watching Jason pull at the wet, clinging material of his t-shirt in disgust.

"Just take it off, dude," he laughed.

"...It's fine," Jason sighed, shifting his weight and turning to face Zack, forcing himself to stop tugging at the shirt, letting it cling to his body. "Gimme Billy's shirt, I'll wash it with my stuff."

"Cool, thanks," Zack said, tossing the wet t-shirt over.

"See you tomorrow?" Jason asked.

Zack shrugged. "Probably."

Jason nodded, accepting that, waving and heading home, clothes squishing uncomfortably.

Zack chuckled and shook his head, turning to head to his trailer for a quick shower, idly wondering if he'd ever actually seen Jason shirtless? Or in shorts? He couldn't think of a time he had, but considering they had all become Rangers in the fall, that wasn't too weird, so he shrugged the thought off and kept walking.

--

It happened almost entirely on accident. She had given up on finding a name that felt right, having read through a dozen baby name sites and used random name generators, but nothing worked. She'd even asked her mom what her girl would have been, but Samantha was soft in a way that she wasn't and it didn't fit.

It wasn't like she could actually use the name, anyway, so what was the point? It was just another thing she wanted and couldn't have, another disappointment.

She was doing her homework at her desk, mind drifting and not really focusing on the history reading. She was doodling instead of taking notes, random squiggles that eventually turned into extravagantly curly letters, doodling her initials.

She wished for a name so she could try her new curly lettering on it, abbreviating her first name to just the initial and oh. Oh.

"How's the homework?" her dad asked, startling her. She quickly flipped the page in her notebook.

"It's fine, almost done," she answered.

Her dad nodded. "I'm picking up an extra run tomorrow -- we need you to watch your sister after detention."

She watched her dad grimace at the mention of her weekly Saturday detention, nodding quickly. "Okay," she agreed, making a note to text the team that Saturday practice was cancelled.

Her dad nodded, glancing around awkwardly. "Good. I'll let you finish up."

She waited until she was sure he was gone before flipping her notebook page back and staring at the page, at the curly J. Lee Scott written in the margins. J. Lee. Jaylee.

That's me, she thought, fear and excitement churning in her gut.

Later, when everyone else was asleep, she opened up the video app on her phone and checked her favorite makeup and vlog channels on the secret account she had made. Her heart raced as she clicked to edit her profile and changed her username to Jaylee.

Accepting the edit and reloading the page, she broke down crying when it happily greeted her. Welcome, Jaylee!

[cosmosogler]

hi guys! did you know, that if you do what a doctor tells you to do, like wear prescribed glasses, then you start to feel better? i learned that today.

i actually had horrible dreams last night. well, the first one was awful. i dreamed that eve’s leg disintegrated... tumors bubbled out from her leg and the fur and skin boiled away and then there were bones and then there was nothing. i startled awake and i must have made some sort of noise. i was laying on my back, which was weird, but also, eve was pretty much on top of my foot. 

then i had dreams about normal weird things. i have no idea how to describe what transpired. it wasn’t... relentlessly grim, i guess, at least? i really can’t... it was at the mountain village. there was, like, a protest going on? or maybe it was a theater act? there was something about it that made it really clear that it was supposed to be an act, but i got the feeling they weren’t really acting.

i was supposed to be an “animal,” but when i looked in the mirror, it was just me, which was really disorienting. i could clearly feel that i had different body parts and only one eye, but my reflection was just normal. it’s not normally normal...

anyway after that i was really parched and didn’t feel like going back to sleep so i just got up the first time my alarm went off at 9. i noticed my brother was still asleep, and i wanted to swim, so i waited for him to wake up so i could invite him. at around 10:15 i got bored of waiting and got up for some breakfast. then i woke him up and he didn’t want to swim. so i just went by myself. i made sure to spray wiley with the hose before i hopped in at least. mother joined me and told me a bunch of really obvious things about eve that she seemed to think i hadn’t thought about or noticed? like that her leg is hurting her. i went inside and showered before i got sunburnt which was nice.

i put on a skirt and a nice shirt because i felt like it. then i hung out on the computer for a while. mom made the last of my soy products into a sandwich for lunch. it was either try the brand i hadn’t previously liked or have mac and cheese yet again. the quorn thing turned out ok though. then i went through my previously-liked music on youtube and either downloaded it or found out where to buy it, and found some custom album art, and updated my ipod again. i also wore my glasses which actually did help with the headache a lot. i think it made me grind my teeth unconsciously a little less too because my jaw doesn’t hurt nearly as bad. 

then i went and picked up asher and we went to see wonder woman. i had a few problems with the movie but mostly it was really solid and i liked it a lot. i really appreciate that there’s finally a super hero movie starring a woman that isn’t a total mess.

i somehow acquired welts along my left arm over the course of the movie. along with the stronger than usual nausea and illness from the theater food, it made me pretty miserable for the second half of the movie. they cleared up pretty fast once we got outdoors though. on the way home dad really stepped over the line with asher. we were talking about, like, historical accuracy and weird anachronisms like wonder woman having shaved legs and armpits. that trend didn’t really start until world war 2 if asher’s history is correct. dad got super weird about it and asher mentioned that he doesn’t shave. and dad was all, “you should.” all aggressive-like. i watched asher but i really didn’t want to get in a fight with dad... 

i feel like a coward. but also, with my parents i really need to pick my battles. but i should have picked that battle. what’s wrong with me? i just sat and watched while one of my friends got, well, harassed. is that the kind of person i am?

i’m so terrified of the consequences of acting on my anger toward my parents that i’ve become very passive. and, normally it’s whatever, because i just want to keep my head down and get through my financial hurdles. but... why did dad think it was necessary to start ragging on my friend about his body hair? shaving isn’t really a hygiene thing. it might make you LOOK cleaner, but it doesn’t actually make you cleaner. unless it’s like super thick beard hair with gunk stuck in it. but leg hair doesn’t... it doesn’t matter. it shouldn’t matter. am i really just going to let him attack my friends like that? am i going to be like that forever?

i need to make better choices. i know they’re not always safe choices... and it would require playing with my cards less close to my chest. right now it seems like safety is more important than doing the right thing. and that bothers me. especially considering the self destruction thing. 

i’m not... afraid of physical pain. i don’t care if he or mom hits me at this point, not really. but i am very afraid of being cut off. not just financially. i could MAYBE make it work at this point by myself. but cut off as in kicked out of the family. having my computer broken. not being allowed to use the car. having lies told about me to my siblings and cousins. i wouldn’t be covered by dad’s insurance and i NEED these medications to not die. 

i can’t tell if that should be more important than supporting my friends or not. how am i supposed to protect other people when i can’t protect myself?

asher and i hung out at the house for a while and played with eve and wiley and talked about art. then we piled into the car for dad to drive asher home. sometime during the drive my eyes started really hurting. like, dry and stuck. they still don’t feel better. dad and i stopped at the grocery store and i picked up some bagels. i need to head over to the grocery store again tomorrow to get some stuff to make for dinner the next few days. and also get my glasses’ endpieces tightened a bit because they keep slipping down my nose. and also drop some more stuff off at the bank. 

i guess i should do some therapy stuff and also look at some physics. my classmates want to start doing voice calls. i am extremely nervous about it. i should eat something, because i didn’t really have much at the movies, but it’s almost midnight and i shouldn’t eat right before bed... i might do it anyway. i don’t want to try to sleep with my stomach totally empty. for the last six hours i just haven’t felt like eating anything. like i’ll be hungry, and then i’ll think about what i should try eating and i will immediately stop being hungry as soon as i try to look at my options.

i keep having dumb ideas. i try to put them out of my mind and they keep coming back. i just... want to share stuff with my dad or brother. my instinct is to try to be emotionally close with them. i want them to see how good steven universe is. i want them to maybe think about the choices they make while playing undertale. dad liked adventure time up until there was an episode with basically no jokes... we haven’t watched a single episode after that and that was toward the end of season 6. we had almost caught up... he never asks to watch it. he never asks to watch jojo either and he seemed to really enjoy it.

they are dumb ideas because i know they wouldn’t like steven universe or undertale or homestuck or soma. dad didn’t even talk about portal 2 after playing it. he didn’t react to the ending. my brother kind of hated the first one. i guess it didn’t have enough guns? he plays tons of first person shooters. like... slender.

i know they wouldn’t like any of these quirky/thoughtful/unique things but my instinct is still to desperately want these people to enjoy them. or... enjoy them with me, i guess. portal 2 is literally my favorite game and i just thought... it would be good to share it. but it was just kind of empty.

heh. one of my classmates in our graduate discord channel asked if my avatar was from homestuck. maybe this new community will be ok. maybe i won’t have to ask people to like things that i already like so i’ll have someone to talk to about it.

i miss my classmates at nau.

there are plenty of other things that i really like that i recognize aren’t... that good. i used to talk about those things with craig a lot. i thought he would understand. but, well, you know.

mass effect was good. it really was. i loved it. but i can’t play it any more. it was the only thing he wanted to talk about.

but the good things i love to share with people. i want them to see things they like, and find new things to like. and maybe also find new things to like that i already like so we can discuss it. and i can’t do that. i can’t share. it won’t work.

i had a good time with asher today. i’m glad he was willing to sit through a movie he’d already seen so i could see it with him. i’m so glad he wanted to talk about it afterward without shutting down the conversation with “you’re too picky” or “you’re too negative” or “why can’t you just enjoy the movie?”. or the dreaded “you’re too much.” 

tomorrow... i need to sit and take a serious look at some basic physics. i need to take stock of what i remember and don’t remember. and i need to get to a point where i am slightly less severely uncomfortable with the idea of talking to someone else about it. 

i guess, there’s more to it than just being socially anxious. intellectually anxious. it’s like... i’m a girl. i have physical “girl” characteristics. i know there’s more than one girl in our class but there’s not many. i’m automatically an ambassador for all women just by virtue of being uncommon. and if i’m not better than the guys, i will not be respected, and it will be a sign that they shouldn’t respect any woman’s intelligence. that’s how it works with male dominated spaces. if you’re a woman in science you can’t just be as good as the men. you have to be better. having the same credentials as a man, exactly the same, when applying for a job will give the man an automatic advantage. 

and... i can’t be better. i’m just an average student. i’m not the academic dreadnought i was in goddang third grade. actually my grades really suffered in christian school. and i struggled to catch up in middle school when we moved to a new place. i understand the material but test environments get me so rattled that i really can’t show anyone how much i actually understand, and failing my tests means i have no reference for how much i understand and how well. i’m even withdrawing during standardized tests, and multiple choice questions are what i am literally best at.

at least in a school environment i have more weaknesses than strengths. but you need to be academically solid to get that first job. and also to graduate. 

i choke whenever i show anyone anything. commissions were so stressful and i know my drawings then weren’t my best work. asking dad to watch the end of a game with me while i beat the last level (ten years ago), when i had beaten it multiple times, was a gauntlet of nervous mistakes. i could shoot arrows at targets just fine when the instructor wasn’t looking. but the moment he started giving us points based on performance i wavered.

and that performance issue is tangled up in a whole heap of dumb self esteem issues and subconscious locks and fears about not being able to win even when i do my best. i was... hoping i could work on that a little in therapy. i might not get to now. before i work on the test/performance anxiety i need to address the major self esteem issues. it’s not gonna help long term to treat a few symptoms and not the glaring error. just gonna burn out again.

i get a lot of mixed signals about my abilities. mom was pretty insistent on tying up my self worth with my ability to do math. to the exclusion of everything else (”you’re emotionally retarded” etc). she would say things like “you’re going to save the world” and talk to her friends/my doctors/literally everyone about what a math prodigy i was. it was never really about how hard i worked or any other skills i may have wanted to develop. and then when school got harder i didn’t get better at it to compensate. my grades are average at best. toward the end of high school my grades were not average. i barely pulled through my ib exams. at villanova my grades were not even below average. i could not understand calculus at all. i couldn’t figure out why i didn’t understand it or what kind of teaching style might suit me better. i started feeling really stupid.

and people still tell me how smart i am! but i’m not smart! the data is there!!! i am not always a fast learner, or even usually a fast learner. and now i’m too anxious to pick up much of anything...

i dunno. it’s 12:30, which is past my bedtime. i should be tired but i’m just kind of electrified. even though my eyes still hurt. i don’t really have anything else to say right now, but i don’t want nightmares...

[babaleshy]

Gonna bitch about how creepy my dad is here, too.

My dad is a tight-wing Trump supporter who likes to play the victim-card. I even fell for it because he fell for the propaganda used against Serbs to make them think that the world hates Serbs because they simply exist. (That’s another rant for another time.) So my dad believes he’s always in the right. He will spend more time making excuses than uttering a single “I’m sorry” if he’s confronted with an obvious wrong he’s committed.

That being said, he literally sees nothing wrong with some of the stuff he’s said to me that I immediately thought of when I’ve heard what Trump has said about his daughter.

As passionate offspring do, I used to go on about how I’d love to cosplay as certain superheroes and such when I was just starting college. My dad would tell me (and even try to convince me) that I should see a professional photographer about taking a pic of me posing as different characters to make into calendars and sell them at conventions because he says I’m good looking enough to pull it off. And no matter how many times I kept telling him no, I don’t wanna do that, he would not drop it and kept trying to convince me ultimately asking, “Don’t you want to make some money?”

Another one is how he thinks I’d look good in certain clothing styles, and he keeps pressing this fucking sash bullshit on me because “you could be a trend-setter!” And he wouldn’t shut up about how good I’d look in certain clothing styles.

One time he told me and a childhood “friend” back when we were in 5th grade that we could totally pull off dressing up as Sailor Scouts because we “definitely had the legs for the look.”

There was a high school photo I took for picture day (I can’t remember what grade) and he says, “Do you know what your bottom lip says?  Sexy.” When I complained not to say that, he went, “Why? It does!” Like, he didn’t get how I was uncomfortable about it. I kept telling him to stop, but he interrupts my plea saying, “No, no! Listen!” He demanded that I listen to him further make me uncomfortable.

So... that was the second most creepiest thing he’s ever done. Know what the first one is? Here it comes:

I’m attending the community college in Pittsburgh and I”m waiting in line with my then-boyfriend (now husband) and my dad since my dad was there to pay for my semester with a credit card. We were in line... in front of a lot of other students... And I felt comfortable to wear a push-up bra and my low-cut Rob Zombie shirt. I’m so close to the ideal cleavage I want and I was just feeling awesome that day. And do you know what my dad says? 

him: Oh my... Annie!

me:  ...what?

him:  You have cleavage!

And he’s trying to be slick by pronouncing it as “clay-vajh”... but everybody is fucking staring at me. Again, I show discomfort, vocalize it, though not as assertive as I probably should have, but he tries to pass it off as, “I’ve just realized you’ve grown into a young woman!”

Like.. really? You just realized that? I’m beyond the age of 21 at this point. And he just now vocalizes such an “epiphany” by talking about my boobs? In front of so many other people?

My husband didn’t say anything because he was afraid of pissing my dad off at the time (especially since we were... I think just engaged at the time?), but my husband and I are so sick of my parents’ shit, especially my dad’s, so we’re not quite so sheepish anymore.

But yeah, my dad was creepy. I need to talk to my mom about this. I’m not sure she’s aware of this. And I did talk to my counselor about this and he agreed that it is creepy. But confronting my dad about this won’t do anything except piss him off and make him play the victim-card, maybe he’ll spout some free-speech rights bullshit as an excuse or something. I don’t know.

Now.... I told you all of these times my dad was creepy in the name of him seeing that he has an attractive daughter... At the same time, throughout my life, on more than one occasion, my dad has also pointed out a lot of fucking things that made me feel so fucking insecure that it just confused me and made my mental health growing up worse. I’ll make you a list and follow it up with a story of one particularly cruel incident.

I was in kindergarten and had my lower lip tucked under my teeth in a picture for picture-day, and my dad asked me, “Are you a clown?” When I said no, he told me, “Then don’t smile like one.”

Anytime I had a bad hair day, he won’t shut up about how it’s shaped, what it looks like, etc.

When I had my first zit between my eyebrows, my dad told me that if I don’t watch what I eat and drink (he was the one with the purchasing power, he was the one willingly buying me soda all the time) then I’ll end up with more zits and then “all the kids at school will call you pizza face! Hey! Lookit pizza-face! How are ya, pizza-face! You wanna be called pizza-face?”

I couldn’t exactly have a normally closed mouth because of how big my teeth are, and I can’t remember the occasion, I just remember him going, “Come on! I know you can stretch those lips over those big teeth!”

“We’re gonna get you surgery to take care of that over-bite of yours by taking out a bit of tendon on your inner thighs and stuffing them behind your jaw. Then you can do splits!”

Anytime I wore shorts, my pale skin would show, so my dad would, in an overly dramatic way, shield his eyes and go, “I’M BLIND! PUT SOME PANTS ON!” Then wonder why I don’t wear shorts.

If there was the slightest bit of stubble on my pits that he saw, he would be overly dramatic in his verbal accounts of how I need to shave them, with his expression being similar to as if he could smell filthy armpits.

Called me pinecone legs when I didn’t have ultra-smooth legs.

Anytime I had food on my big teeth, he won’t shut up about it and made a big spectacle about it.

Anytime I had ANYTHING in my nose, he’d do the same, too.

Ah, the most cruel thing he’s done regarding my appearance and insecurities. I need to tell you this particular story. It’s just, the cruelest thing he’s done to me psychologically.

So, I’m in 7th grade. Obviously, I’m going through puberty... And a massive zit shows up on my forehead. I go to excuse myself saying I gotta go pop it after being asked where I was going, and my dad said, “No! NEVER pop zits!” I can’t remember if he like, gave an explanation or what. But how he delivered that was just.. Enough to make me go, “Oh, geeze. Maybe I shouldn’t.” I figured it would go away on its own. It didn’t. The fucker got bigger and had three pinhole-sized scabs in it because I wasn’t allowed to drain it when it would burst on its own. It was so nasty it was becoming blue-grey. Amazingly, I wasn’t picked on for it in middle school. But of course, that’s why my dad exists. Because being a teenager wasn’t hell enough.

We go to my baba and jeda’s to visit, especially since my uncle Pete (dad’s brother he’s like, obsessed with or some shit) and his family were visiting. *shrug* Okay, so we go and visit. I figured the rest of my family isn’t going to judge me. They were never like how my dad was. They never made me feel insecure about my appearance.

We’ve been there a while, and we’d all just sat down at the table for dinner, and that’s when my dad points out to everyone, “Just look at the size of that zit on her forehead? Have you ever seen one so big before?” I don’t remember what all he’d said, but he brought shameless attention to it while everyone looked uncomfortable. I don’t remember what family member it was, but they managed to change the subject real fast while my dad maintained that entertained, amused grin. And I had trouble eating because my stomach was in knots.

Ever since then, I wore a ballcap when not in school (because we weren’t allowed to wear hats in school, though I did try to wear bandanas to “hold my hair back” as much as possible to hide the fucking zit). My mom got me to stop by lying and telling me that people who wear hats all the time end up going bald. She thought that was amusing, and when I brought it up to her when she started wearing a ballcap when mowing the lawn, she laughed and told me she was just kidding to see what I’d do.

That zit didn’t fucking go away for WEEKS. All because I wasn’t allowed to pop and/or drain the fucker.

So I’m being told I’m attractive while at the same time I’m told all this other shit becoming a ball of anxiety and depression from the same asshole who has no business being this fucking creepy to me and will spend every second of the conversation on the subject making up excuses while not once uttering a sorry whatsoever. Because his freedom of speech or some bullshit.

What’s worse is if I was underage, and I’ve said some shit before like talking about wanting a tattoo in the future when I’m old enough and he wasn’t having it and saying “but it’s my body,” he told me, “But you’re mine.” Like I’m property. It’s so fucked up.

He’s part of the reason why I wore hoodies, baggy shirts, and baggy pants throughout all of my teenage years; I tried to disappear and hide in large-sized clothing to try and minimize some of the shit he’d tell me. My dad has a habit of saying any and all things on his mind without stopping and thinking about how he’d be making the other person feel. Because he doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a shit.