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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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Perform a word association exercise with the word “sex.”

Nausea. Discomfort. “Big deal”. “No big deal.” Deserving. Undeserving. A contest. Popularity. Anxiety. Depression. Trash. Garbage. Taboo. Caught. Emptiness. Blackness. Immaturity. Disillusioned. Bored. Boring. Boredom. Lame. Uncomfortable. Elusive. Anger. Heartache. Heartbreak. Headaches. Stomachaches. Achy joints. Diseases. Infections. Oversaturation. Annoying. Obnoxious. Violence. Mistrust. Traditions. Daydreams. Nightmares. Awfulness. Disgusting. Stupidity. Tears. Cutting. Hitting. Horror. Trauma. Crosses. Bibles. Eye rolls. Pathetic. Arrogance. Powerless. Hopeless. Useless. Listlessness. Indifference. Anxiety. Uncaring. Cruelty. “Point and laugh.” Ridicule. Tedium. Unsafe. Abuse. Trauma. Bullshit. Horseshit. Gun to my head. Children. Babies. Baby fever. Tools. Sterility. Fertility. Infertility. Pointless. Pleasureless. Mindless. Loveless. Lies. Liars. Ugly. Cold. Gross. Unnatural. Cringe. Avoidance. Pain.

Would you say that you have or have not had a strong sexual drive in your life? How does and did this level of sexual drive affect your intimate relationships?

I don’t have a strong sex drive. In fact, I don’t think I ever had a sex drive. I barely masturbate, and the times I do, it has not given me any good feelings. Maybe… fleeting feelings of lust but it was nothing strong or powerful, though. It always wells up only to go away again. I just ask myself, “why bother? There’s no one here tickling my fancy, so why bother developing something that somewhat resembles to an appetite.” I know I’m not asexual because I have actually felt it before.

I’m not a sexual being. I’m a lonely person with creepy tendencies. I’m not a sexy person, and I have never seen myself as such when I think about it.

Growing up, I just told people I was straight because I didn’t want them to know that I’m actually not. But… I do love men, though. I really love men, actually. I think men are absolutely gorgeous and decadent and sexy. Hell, I have a crush on a man right now. But I also love women, and nonbinary people. I landed on pansexual. It’s good to know that there’s a name for it, but I still have so much shame and anxiety and frustration about it. I can’t picture myself with someone, no matter what gender they are, out of both the fact that I’m just terrible at meeting someone and the fact that my severe lack of libido scares me. I’m frustrated by the mere presence of my own sexuality that I don’t know what to do with it and I have disowned it. It’s not mine and it never was mine to begin with. I want you to make fun of it because I know it’s stupid. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings by pointing and laughing, if anything I expect it. “It’s natural, enjoy yourself!” If it’s so fucking natural, why does no one care about it?

What struggles have you had with your sexuality?

I just keep hitting my head against the wall with these stupid, cringe questions in the hope that they should be helping me unpack the shame but they only make me feel worse because I remember how much of a fool I am. I vent but I find no way out of it. The suggested way out of it is so hackneyed that I don’t even want to bother trying it. There has to be a better way.

I don’t know how to feel comfortable with my desires and every time I try and seek out advice on how to feel more comfortable with them, it just… doesn’t feel good enough. The fact I seek out advice should say that I want to feel comfortable, but it’s not enough. The other thing is I have very specific taste. I read erotica or kink and there’s just so much more of it every time I turn around it seems, and none of it gets me rolling. Maybe I’m just picky, i’ll admit it.

When I was a teenager, no one ever made a pass on me, and I don’t understand why this is so hard to understand, either. Girls didn’t like me, period, and boys always gave me that awkward little smile whenever our eyes met. I didn’t actually start getting looks until about two years ago. I never dressed the part: I didn’t have to, even though I did consider it at times.

I feel so much shame about my sexuality that I find it hard to even so much as move some days. It’s a dead weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe. Sex is just… something I don’t think about, and something I actually don’t want, either, like when I really think about it, I can take it or leave it. “It’s a beautiful, natural thing!” I see help bloggers tell me. Is it really, though? What’s beautiful about the hordes of consequences to it? What’s beautiful about having your body violated? What’s beautiful about the inability to orgasm, either by nature or outside circumstances catching up to you? What’s beautiful about putting your faith in someone else and your relationship with them can end randomly at any time? Call me cynical, but I can’t think about sex or relationships without thinking about the worst parts of it.

I don’t think about it all the time because I really have no reason to. I get no questions or interest in this part of me anyway, so why bother? And whenever I do, it’s always presumptuous. Everyone always thought I was seeing someone and they were shocked when I said I was single. Now I get absolutely nothing. I’m not saying I miss being interrogated like that—and the day I do is the day we’re all fucked—but why should I even bother putting inventory in something that no one cares about and I find unpleasant to talk about on top of that. It’s unpleasant. My sexuality is unpleasant and worth no one’s time. Not an iota of good feelings or memories to be found here. No, it’s all shit. It’s all garbage.

I always befriended guys, too, and everyone always thought we were “a relationship” (never was, though, it was all platonic), so when I befriended more, I would hear words like “player” or “not like the other girls” or “secretly lesbian” thrown my way when none of it was true. It got lonely really quick.

Another struggle is labeling it. OH GOD THIS. That whole phase I went through in 2021-2022 consisted of nothing but this, and i’m admittedly back there again. It always feels like I have a gun to my head, too, like I’m supposed to figure out a label and NOW. They’ll tell you to take your time with it and, believe me I did. But when you’re changing labels like people change their socks, and you’re surrounded by people who are just soooo comfortable in their fucking precious sexuality, it becomes less reassuring so fast. “But you’re not alone!” I have really grown to dislike the whole “you’re not alone” mantra mainly because it’s everywhere. You see the same word or phrase over and over again that it loses meaning.

I think my desires are trash and I don’t see eye to eye with the “real” raunchy people on this, either. I’m supposed to just be into good ol fashioned missionary and cowgirl and doggy style and maybe some light bdsm, any other kinks are weird and gross.

In what ways do you nurture your personal sense of sexuality, and/or sexual relationships?

I have no relationship. Never have, never will, either. I guess I just have too many biases about sex and sexuality, and I don’t know how to undo them, either. I don’t know how to nurture my sexuality, if anything I just want to leave it to waste. I don’t care about it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to care about it.

I guess… I draw. I draw what I love. I draw to exemplify the female gaze (and no one seems to understand that, either: to other people, I just “draw musicians” when I don’t. I do plenty of other things). I write. …I live on a mountain top, 20 minutes away from a trump bastion. I have no options.

I like jewel tones. I like odd colors like bright pink and green. I like black and white. I like stuff that’s form-fitting and also low-slung jeans: I do not like anything high-waisted unless it’s worn with crop tops, otherwise I hate it. I don’t get why everyone clutches at themselves at the mere mention of anything low-rise. I like denim and leather and silk and velvet and corduroy. I like stuff that’s low cut—leftover from being heavy and struggling with weight most of my life as I’ve tried to wear T-shirts and the collar always feels like it’s choking me. I like camisoles. I like pajamas. I like underwear: as much as I cringe at the thought of wearing lingerie, I do like just wearing a bra, and I do have a teddy in my closet. I like to wear jeans: I have never felt good in a dress before, aside from the flannel Patagonia ones I used to wear when I was little. I dunno, I find most dresses a bitch to walk around in and sit in, and I hate how skirts always wants to blow up (I’ve lived in windy areas my whole life): those flannel ones were short enough I could play around in them without having to put on pants, but they were warm and soft.

After a shower, I let my hair hang down for a few hours before I brush it: if I haven’t showered in a few days, I comb my bangs up into this pompadour upon my head so I have this Dennis Miller thing going until I feel like climbing into the shower for another round. My mom says I look like I came from the beach. Only makeup I have is chapstick and nail polish: when I was little, I’d put on lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara but I look like a cross between a clown and a hooker. “You’d be so much prettier, though!” No, I’m not, trust me.

Is all of this supposed to make me feel sexy? I feel like I’m missing something here.

Nope, sorry, I can’t touch myself and feel an ounce of pleasure. I touch my lips and my breasts, and I’m having a hard time seeing pleasuring myself as an art, too—I don’t know, it’s hard to put my head around it. What’s artful about sticking my finger up my clit to stimulate myself even though I know I won’t enjoy it?

My body? What about it? It was very skinny, it got very overweight, and now it’s losing weight. Any questions?

Why should I play dress up when I don’t get any attention? Dress for myself… I watch project runway and I really don’t see eye to eye with fashion, what’s considered “high fashion”: I don’t know if I just have piss poor taste or if fashion really is bullshit.

Write about your first sexual experiences. Interpret sexual experience any way like, even it’s about you first kiss.

“Even if it’s about your first kiss” I love how this assumes that everyone who does these things have had their first kiss, like yes, everyone gets some no matter how undesirable, unattractive, and fucked up they are.

There was the first time I touched myself. I was very young—I would think all children do this when they’re extremely young. I was in front of a mirror and I opened my legs and looked at myself there. I touched my clit the first time and I remember it really tickled me. I felt my labia and even stuck a finger or two in.

I did it in front of my conservative grandmother and she swatted my hand. 27 years ago or not, I remember it.

Write about your last sexual experience. How was it different from your first sexual experience?

So I’m (attempting, anyway) to make a habit of putting my hand down my shorts to touch myself while I’m just watching tv, much like how I like to pump my dumbbells when I’m being idle. First time I did it was weird. It tickled and I unlocked some odd feelings within me, and I don’t know if it was arousal at all: I felt a lot of anxiety, a lot of nausea, a lot of old often painful memories. I don’t know if I’m going with it all this week, simply because I don’t know if it did anything positive.

But I just did it while I was watching tv, like I didn’t even think about it. Fingertips and fingernails on my clit, that was it—my mom was in the room, too.

What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you needed to know?

Sex ed from middle school onwards, plus I was told that all guys don’t care about me and just want to get in my pants over and over by my drug addict father. I was never told about pleasure or anything good or that kinks are good or the range of sexual orientations or anything genuinely useful. Just your standard “insert penis into vagina, don’t have babies until you’re ready and only do it to have a baby” and that was it. It was always having babies, too, like god forbid you ever want to have sex because it’s fun or what have you.

I was also bombarded by these messages of “don’t be promiscuous or a slut, don’t get a reputation, no one will want you otherwise” and “girls aren’t supposed to want sex because it’s gross and not ladylike.” Level up and always be ladylike or no one will love you. You have to always be ladylike and proper. I also heard bullshit like “if you have sex, you WILL get pregnant, FACT.” (i.e., the whole “men force abortion on women” thing that pro-life feminists claim is science fiction to me)

I was also always told “if you have sex, you’ll contract a disease, guarantee it”. Cue the nausea whenever someone asks me about some sex life that I allegedly have because apparently fucking everyone has a fucking sex life and yet nobody told me. I can’t win.

How has your views of sex changed over time?

My view of it is… cynical, to say in the least. I’m kind of, admittedly, starting to get the whole “reclaim your sexuality” thing, but I just because I’m starting to get it doesn’t mean I’m feeling in my power, though. I have no frickin power (lol, I said “frickin”). And I still hate the phrase “sexual being” for the same reason as before: everyone says it but the meaning is elusive and everyone assumes you should just know what it means. The future is not bright on this level, like i can’t put my head around the idea of someone wanting me.

I found those other questions (the one with the question that asks about vibrancy and I’m scratching my head about it) from some psychologist and those have helped me more than these: those are more specific and I can just look back on the past week, whereas these always made me angry.

The whole concept of “desirability” is completely alien to me, like no one ever told me about this until just recently. No. I’m not desirable and I never have been, either.

Describe a sexual fantasy you have.

Something with merfolk and the beach. It’s a story that’s always crossed my mind but I have never really had the time or energy to write it out.

Turn a sexual experience into a piece of short fiction. Describe the setting. Use dialogue. Write erotic description.

When you’re so inexperienced that even this feels in vain. I honestly envy people who can write things like erotic memoirs.

Write about the best sex partner you have ever been with. Describe a special time together.

She had five fingers, all without polish on the nails, which were a bit short and freshly trimmed. Her skin was smooth, a little dry but smooth.

I hadn’t been touched in some time and yet, while laying in bed one morning, those fingers wandered down to my belly button for a gentle caress. When I rolled over onto my back, she worked her way down to inside my underwear for a touch. She ever so gentle scratched me on the hood and it felt interesting. Neither good nor bad, but interesting. It got me thinking.

(Got really tired of saying I’m a virgin all the time)

What changes if any would you like to make about your sexual self?

All of it. I want to change all of it. This is supposed to be pleasurable, right? Why am I so anxious?

I have no control. I have no sense of a grasp on it. I hardly ever think about it. I’m desperately trying—and failing—to figure out what I want and need. I hate that I have no sex drive once I really, really think about it—and I swore I did. I can’t handle myself. I have NO self-esteem in this area. And I’m so depressed about all of this that I find I’m just so completely overwhelmed by this.

Write a sexual confession to your partner or someone you admire. Be straight forward or as kinky as you would like.

I have a crush on you. That’s all I have to say. I don’t know how you’re going to react to me from here on out, and I also don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I have to be blunt now. I have a crush on you. I have no control whatsoever, but I have a crush on you. It’s stupid, I know.

What would you like to learn about your sexual self?

Really, just… why am I like this? That was a criticism I saw of my cartoons when I first started making them was “why do they look like that?” And I wish I could say more than “they just do.”

What is there to learn here? Why I’m so bad at this? I can tell you that without even thinking twice about it: no one ever encouraged me. I grew up with the most backwards views on sexuality and there’s no end in sight even as I’ve grown up.

I’m not a sexual person. I just heard so many bad things and stories about sex and sexuality along the way that I fucking refuse to ever believe that it can even be a source of pleasure. I heard so many times to look away whenever two people kissed or that any romance was met with eye rolls (but you know, feel free to kiss out in public: cue the confusion). What does it mean to even be desirable, like what the fuck is that?

I have such specific tastes, like i can’t read anything erotic without wondering how it fits with what I like, and it never does.

I guess… my values? But I did that before—they’re love, curiosity, well-being, quality, autonomy, and fun—but I don’t feel good about it, though.

Really, the best way to look at my sexuality is to look at my art, because I draw what I love and what I find interesting. And yet no one seems to understand this. I remember when my dad pulled me aside and told me I should stop “because all I do is draw musicians.” No, I draw people I find attractive and interesting: some of them just so happen to play music.

What part of your sexuality seems the most mysterious to you?

Not necessarily to me specifically, but what’s this whole thing that sex is supposed to be holistic and sacred? The way it gets shoved into our faces on a regular basis while being treated as just the worst thing ever, it obviously isn’t.

I’m so lost on values. I mean, it’s bad enough that when I think about what I value on a non-sexual level, I can’t even answer that: throw sex into the mix and I feel like I’m walking through a fog.

I’m so lost on labels and who I’m attracted to, too. No, I’m sorry, I can’t take my time, this is driving me nuts.

When you hesitate to write something, what reminder can you give yourself to be as completely honest as you can, both factually and emotionally?

“I’m the only one here.”

What, if anything, about sex distresses you?

I worry about getting pregnant, and I’ve always known that this is why I’m so bored with regular old penetrative sex, and why I feel genuinely repulsed by the affluence of it in fanfic: it’s the weirdest thing to me, it’s like everyone has baby fever, whereas I don’t want children. Plus, I’m genuinely grossed out by the thought of being filled with cum.

I worry about falling ill, too. Need I say more.

My poor stomach has been through a lot, too: I worry about having to run to the bathroom.

The fact that i’ll never have it, either. I’m a virgin at 30. 30 year olds have had it several times, i’m lucky to have some rando on the street even look at me.

I just don’t like talking about sex, either. People are so comfortable talking about sex and all things sex and I’m usually thinking about a million different other things like it doesn’t even cross my mind.

Are we surprised that I hate this side of life?

What change would you like to make in your sexual behavior?

I don’t know how to be sexy, like I’m genuinely surprised when someone tells me something I did was hot. Worse, I don’t know if they’re saying that just because or if it’s sincere.

Wait. I’m supposed to enjoy myself? What?

What change would you like to make in your sexual attitudes or thoughts?

I don’t know what sex means to me. It’s just a thing that happens and I’m trying to understand the beliefs about it. No one is attracted to me, I get nothing out of it, and I simply don’t “get some”, either, so why should I bother?

The reason why I’ve been holding back so much is because I cringe at myself, at my true thoughts and I worry about being found out. I cringe at what I like, and it always happens after the fact. I cringe because I’ve been taught to cringe. I know nothing I think or feel matters, especially on a sexual level.

What even is sex appeal? Is it just some natural quality that just automatically comes to select people? What is this?

What change would you like to make in your sexual emotions or feelings?

I feel like there’s something wrong with me. There’s something wrong with me… for being attracted to men, like I’m so ashamed of this. I’m attracted to men and I feel bad about it. My sex drive is so fucking low and I’m helpless to change that.

I have emotions all tied up in sexual desire so it’s hard to tell the difference between the two.

What memories came to mind from the previous questions?

Nothing good or happy.

What do you like most about your current partner? Least?

I’m a virgin. 🎵 I’ll be cleaning my gun… 🎵

Make three (or more) sexual wishes. Don't hold back!

I wish I could talk about this freely. I wish I was hot. I wish I was accepted. I wish I belonged. I wish I didn’t have to worry. I wish I couldn’t feel hysterical laughter whenever I say I’m a virgin. I wish I had a sexuality that worked. I wish I could crush normally. I wish I had power and prowess and agency. I wish I had everything that I don’t have and can’t have.

Make a list of your sexual partners and write a few phrases to describe the relationship. What patterns do you see?

After years of research, I finally came to the perfect scientific conclusion: I’m a virgin and I’m lucky to have anyone even look at me. STOP USING THE WORD “PARTNER”! PLEASE!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!

If you have a sexual partner now, write about this relationship. What works for you in this sexual relationship? What would you like to change?

Boy, you know, my hand not only does things to my clit and tits, but it can also become a fist to break the face of whoever implores the regular use of a clinical, completely loveless and soulless word like “partner”.

Describe what your ideal sexual relationship would look like today.

I don’t know. I don’t know what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. I know what an unhealthy relationship looks like, so I guess … healthy is the opposite? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.

If you have been sexually dissatisfied, what has kept you in the relationship?

Doesn’t apply.

Are you able to ask your partner for what you want sexually? How do you do that?

Nope, and I wouldn’t know how to ask, either. If I have a hard time asking my mom if we could get soup on a grocery trip, what makes anyone think I am going to feel at ease asking if I want to be fingered.

If you have difficulty asking for what you want, what are you telling yourself that makes asking difficult?

“They won’t care. They’re gonna laugh at me and reject me. They’re going to get angry with me. This is stupid and gross and crass and we all know it. Why do I even bother.”

What are your sexual limits with your partner?

First of all, don’t ever call me your “partner”, I fucking hate that word. I hate how normie it is, I hate how everyone uses it including couples who have been together a long time… I want to know when it was normalized because it’s so sterile and cold and influencer-y. Call me that and I’ll leave. “But nonbinary people use it”, see, that, I understand completely, barring it’s implied that someone in the couple isn’t cishet. But I can’t tell just by looking at you. Trust me, I learned the hard way on that. I have so much baggage with “partner” that writing it just leaves a weird taste in my mouth.

Second, NO CREAMPIES. I- no, just… no.

The word “daddy” has been all but ruined for me, too.

What sexual behavior won't you do or would do only under certain conditions? Write about those to clarify your boundaries.

Please don’t overdo pain. I like a little bit, but my body is actually very sensitive and too much pain is too much.

I don’t like it too rough: I’m slow and sensual for the most part, but a little quickness goes a long way if I think about it.

No period sex, please. I don’t know, just… b l o o d on the good sheets or nice upholstery, and my own, no less.

In what way might your relationship with your partner deepen or improve by talking openly about sex?

I change my mind from before, and I can’t see talking about sex doing anything good. “Communication is key!” You know, just because you say it a bunch of times, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily true. I guess it’s just my inexperience talking but when I really look at this, I’m starting to question my answer before. I can’t see a conversation doing any justice, like it really is a make or break situation.

Can you recall your first discovery of sexual fantasy? What was it about?

All I know is I was very young and I didn’t understand what was happening, either.

Write out three of your favorite sexual fantasies. If this is new to you, make one up now.

Okay, fine. I have worked with fantasy before, and I thought I hadn’t a shred of sexual fantasy before. Seasons Grey is pure fantasy, with the whole teacher-student trope at the core. Love Is Not Enough is fantasy, with the strippers at the root. Blood & Chocolate is all about my food fetish and belly kink. All my kinktober one shots are fantasies. Hell, you know what, any fics that come out of me have some kind of a fantasy embedded inside of them: I just wasn’t really aware of it.

How have you used your sexual fantasies up until now?

Haven’t, at least not outside of writing. I hate how this assumes that I can, too.

What began as a fantasy that you later took into action?

The time I told Alex I’m in love with his voice. It was way before I wrote voice kink one shot in eclipse, too. That one in particular was admittedly fun to write.

What sexual fantasies work the best to arouse you?

I was pretty aroused writing Chave do Mar: Alex as a merman with a long shark tail, smooth milky skin, and black curls tousled over his shoulder. Same with Blood & Chocolate, too: Alex being over fed and it shows up on his body. The Black Orchid scenes from now it’s dark were pretty hot, too, when I think back to writing them: Joey surrounded by burlesque strippers.

I don’t think I can use any of them to really get me off.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a friend? What was the reaction?

…it’s pretty across the board.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a lover? What was the reaction?

I don’t know if I could be courageous enough to do that.

How important is it for you to share your sexual fantasies? What are your reasons for sharing or not? Does sharing fantasies break their "spell"?

You know that fanfic meme that talks about writing your dream fanfic filled with all your fantasies and dreams but choosing not to and keeping it locked away in your mind because you want it to yourself? Yeah, I don’t relate to that at all—then again , i don’t relate to fanfic memes, period (“oh, I should be writing but I’m on tumblr hur hur”, get a life, all of you). I write them out because I want to make sense of them for the most part. I’ve never really seen them as all that mystifying: just these weird little scenes that roll around inside me. I literally don’t care, they’re stupid and pointless and painfully unsexy.

What, if anything, do you find distressing about your sexual thoughts or fantasies? Write about that to clarify it for yourself.

On their own, I don’t think they’re special or gossip-worthy or revolutionary or life-changing. They just are what they are.

But just the fact they exist distresses me. Why do I feel this way? Why am I doing this? This isn’t normal. Everyone is judging me and mocking me.

If you could say three things to the world about the nature of your personal sexuality and really be heard, understood, and accepted, what would you say?

I’ve got nothing. I don’t think I would really be heard, understood, and accepted no matter what I said. Everyone forgets my name eventually.

What were the main messages (directly or indirectly) that you learned about sex? Which messages did you keep or reject?

(Yeah, I replaced the next two with different ones from another place because I genuinely don’t remember when I first learned the feelings of arousal, nor do I give a shit about a stupid poem that I can’t emulate from anyway because I never experienced “great sexuality or eroticism” in my life)

I was basically taught that sex is dirty and for men’s desire only: women are not supposed to desire it, plus all men are perverts and rapists—anyone who says otherwise is lying. I was also taught that men just want to objectify you and use you for their pleasure. I was also taught that you have to be a certain height and body weight or you’re unattractive and therefore disposable. I never heard “beautiful” thrown my way from my peers: it was always from my parents; I heard “ugly” from my peers more than anything. I didn’t learn jack shit about the lgbtq+ community until I was like 19. I was taught strict gender roles. I was taught that my personal boundaries are meaningless and I’m free real estate.

I don’t think sex is dirty, but I don’t know how I feel about it being “sacred” or “holistic”. If I’m not supposed to desire it, what the hell am I doing? Oh, yeah, like women can’t objectify men when I see it in droves. BMI is eugenics. Gender roles are bullshit. Bonus: not everyone is meant to have children, and not everyone is meant for a relationship.

Which of the five senses is most sexual to you?

Sense of touch. The feeling of smooth skin, of a warm curvy body, of soft hair, of bristly hair… it gets very sexual when you think about it.

Describe your first sexual encounter. How old were you? Was it consensual? If not, what resources have you used to help heal from that encounter? If it was consensual, what did that experience mean to you at the time?

I was 18 and it was the day that Dan Wheldon was killed. I had just gotten home and a text from my dad about it. I get online to find a boy who used to sit behind me in geometry class completely beside himself because Dan was his hero. I remember it was Sunday evening, around dinner time: I told him I had to get something to eat because I was hungry and I would be right back. I came back and we talked for hours. Evening became night, and then I blurted out something that made him laugh, and then he made me laugh. One thing leads to another and I say something kind of sexual and it went from there. We chatted and texted back and forth for a few weeks after that until I got slammed with midterms.

As for meaning, I’m not sure. I don’t know how to feel about it, either. I don’t even know if it counts as an encounter, either, but it’s all I got.

Who was your first romantic, sexual partner? What about him or her appealed most to you? What did you hope would happen with that relationship?

Aside from the above, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had a girlfriend. 30 years old and I have never even been kissed. I got sick and tired of hearing “oh, you’ll find love some day” when I was 17, and now I know in my heart it won’t ever happen. I’ll never forget this one time when my dad was talking about one of my old friends and his girlfriend and how they “look so cute together” and I pointed out how it made me very uncomfortable and he gave me that “you’ll find love some day” without even a second thought.

It’s so exploitative, a little condescending, too, like it tells me everyone has bought into the whole “there’s someone for everyone” horse shit when I learned a long time ago that it’s horse shit. And it’s unfair, like you don’t know how my life will turn out. I don’t even know how my life is going to turn out. I’m just stating a fact, I didn’t ask for you to be fortune teller.

Do you believe that sex and emotional intimacy are linked, or is it possible to have a sexual relationship without emotional attachment? What experiences influence your answer?

The two can exist without each other. Casual sex is a thing, plus you can be emotionally attached but not want it.

Just… my own observations about this. I thought I was asexual and, even though I’m not, I did learn this along the way.

If you could have the perfect sex life right now, what would that look like?

The idea of me having a sex life, period, is so beyond me, like I don’t know what it’s even supposed to be. No, I don’t deserve sex or romance. Those are reserved for people who are well-adjusted.

How do you define “awesome” sex (i.e. what makes sex better than good)?

Makes me think of “awesome sauce”, which completely sucks the eroticism out of this. What even quantifies as “good sex” anyways?

How do you feel about PDA? (You can take this as far as “kinks in public,” too.)

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand seeing it, can’t stand the thought of it happening to me; some things are just better left in private. As for kinks in public, though? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.

What do you think about when you masturbate?

I do it when I’m watching tv so I’m not really thinking about anything.

What are your sure-fire turn-ons (and/or turn-offs)?

Turn-ons: touches, really all over my body. I like soft touch. I like being held. I like fantasy. I like intelligence. I like sweetness. I’m all about feeling and being close. I love Alex’s chest hair. I love Eric in knit sweaters with white buttons. I like boys in crop tops and leather that shows off their skin. I like velvet. I like silk. I like denim and corduroy.

What are your thoughts about porn?

One complaint I do have with it is the unrealistic expectations. No guy is like that. No girl is like that. I have no opinion at this point, actually.

What are your thoughts on foreplay? Favorite types? Best experiences? Wishes?

It’s still underrated. A few kisses or hickeys on a sensitive spot like on the neck or the belly, or fingers on the labia and lips on the thighs can take you a long way, and I can say that just from my own writing.

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to? (If you don’t currently have a lover, feel free to consider past or future lovers.)

“Lover” is another pathetically overused word. My eyes have always wandered to the middle of the body. I don’t care if it’s slim and delicate or round and thick, either, I want to feel and hold, especially there.

If you were to “recreate” the early days of your favorite sexy relationship, what would they look like? Would you change anything?

It’s weird to think that I can actually answer this: I don’t think I would change anything. Maybe I could have been a little more upfront with him about how I feel about him earlier on because I just think about that one night in March-ish 2021, but there was a point to that, though. I wanted to ease into it, and there had to be some sort of opportunity to find with him because I see people hitting on him all the time, and I always think I’m being inappropriate with him, oh my god 🫣.

He feels so elusive now, and I have no doubt that fucking… I don’t even know what to call her, but she has a lot to do with it. I’ve seen how he is outside of her, though: he’s Mr. Social. When she enters the picture, he’s suddenly Mr. Standoffish Homebody, like someone flipped a switch, it’s unsettling, tbh.

What do you want more of in your sex life?

I don’t know. I’m boring.

Would you ever visit a sex therapist? What would be the reason and what do you think their advice would be for you?

Sign me up.

Why do I have a sexuality in the first place.

They’re probably going to give me some of the same old shit I see when I ask Google, so no, I take that back, I want my money back.

Is there anything about sex that embarrasses you, causes shame or fear, or makes you nervous? Or…what’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you during sex?

My fear of pregnancy and disease plus I worry about shitting myself.

Just the act itself. I literally can’t imagine anyone being that crazy about me, like I am not beautiful, I am not sexy… and I hate the expectation that comes with those words, like “you’re a woman! Be beautiful and sexy 24/7!” Fuck off. I could go away right now and no one would care or wonder what it would have been like to make love to me or toss a dick in me.

Talking about it makes me unbelievably nervous, too, like there’s a reason why I apologize for indulging in kink. I know it’s gross.

What do you tend to fantasize or dream about when it comes to sex? What kinds of porn or kink are you drawn to?

Last night, I ventured through the voice kink, belly kink, leather, latex, and lingerie tags. Don’t really know what to make of that, though.

If you were to create a sexy playlist intended for a hot date at home, what would be on it?

I have never made a sexy playlist in my life so I wouldn’t know where to start. This is another thing I have to look up because I don’t know.

What are your love languages and how do they apply to your sexual needs? What about your lover?

I’m all about touch and spending time. I am touch-starved and I have all the time in the world.

No idea how it applies to my voice kink but do I have to say how it applies to my textile kink, my belly kink, my hair kink, my water kink, my wax kink, or anything? “What about your lover”, piss right off.

How do you feel about being naked?

No opinion. It just … is what it is. I don’t fixate on flaws (I never could, either, even with my troubled relationship with myself), nor do I see it as a beautiful thing: it just it what it is. I take care of myself but that’s about it. What do you do with it. Why is this controversial. Now, when I think about being naked with someone else, look the other way.

What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

You put your guitar on your lap, you brush your hair really nice, you have this little twinkle in your eye like you’re up to no good or you’re secretly going commando out of camera, you have a glass of wine in hand, and you talk in a very soft, husky voice when I ask you about your underwear. I think.

Do you have any trust issues surrounding sex or your sexual relationship(s)?

I have nothing but trust issues when it comes to sex. It’s honestly horrifying.

What do you look like, and sound like, when sex feels good for you?

Whenever I write something erotic, every so often I have to stop myself and close my eyes because I feel things moving. I get really quiet (everyone talks about screaming during sex: I’m the exact opposite, I get really quiet) and my hands start itching for the feeling. I bite my lip a lot, too—sometimes I do that without even thinking, like it just happens. It’s a long slow burn with me.

This is literally all I’ve got, sorry.

What is the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Flirted with Alex on stories. I’ve always fucking sucked at flirting (I once went for five years without flirting with anyone because I suck so hard at it), let alone with a guy like him. I love calling him “baby” and by his name, especially.

Flirted with Eric on stories (I called him “big guy”) and got him to take a selfie from the toilet. Wish I was making that up.

I asked “are we going to see a Jeff Becerra OnlyFans any time soon?” and mf literally replied with “only if the price is right” and the eggplant emoji, even though I was just joking around.

Any time I post risqué art on instagram because they’re assholes with that sort of thing. No clue how threads’ll react to it.

When now it’s dark was being written and I posted those ink drawings on instagram (completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me).

There was also one time in school one of my friends had his pants hanging down a bit and I tried to pants him and he caught me. I did get to pinch his butt when no one was looking, though.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

I don’t know what this means.

Have you ever had sex in a public place?

WHYYYYYYYYYYY would I do this?

When and how did you lose your virginity, and how did you feel about it? How do you feel about it now?

I’ll probably die a virgin.

Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time, watched others have sex, been watched? If not, would you?

I think I’m polyamorous so I’d definitely try it. As for voyeurism… maybe I’d like to be watched? Don’t know about watching others, though.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

Well, I started doing it again, during idle moments when I’m not doing anything. I’m just using my fingers right now: let’s see how it goes. I can’t say I’ll have any desire to use a toy. Maybe I’m not doing it right because I have done it but I barely get off at all, and I’m more disgusted with myself than anything.

Maybe I’m just not trying enough, but I look at some on lingerie sites like Spencer’s or wherever, and I shake my head. “Find one that’s best for you”, they tell me. Yeah, but nothing here is jumping out at me. I’m going to look ridiculous in lingerie, too.

What are you most grateful or thankful for in your sex life?

Nothing. Literally nothing. Grateful for the pain? The headaches? The heavy feeling in my chest?

What is your favorite sexual position, and why?

Cowgirl, I guess?

Have you ever had an “inappropriate” crush? What was it about that person that drew you in, and what made it “not okay”?

I have one right now, on Alex. He’s kind of everything I love in another person: he’s intelligent, he’s musical, he’s passionate about what he does, he’s very sensual with a very sensual voice, he’s sweet, he’s an animal lover, he’s got an interesting appearance…

Problem is he’s older and more established and living clear across the country from me… and he’s already got a relationship. The thing that bothers me most about it is I really, truly want to like her, I really do, I’m not joking about this, but I can’t bring myself to do it. She irritates the ever-loving fuck out of me. It’s like… do you ever see someone and for whatever reason, they rub you the wrong way and you nope right out of it (plus, you’re afraid to fuck around and find out)? That’s me with her. I don’t get what he sees in her, like I always want to puke whenever he tags her in a post.

I can’t explain it but there’s something weirdly mean-spirited about her, mean-spirited and kind of nefarious. I think it’s the way she’s like “I’m a shy person” and yet all the shy people I’ve known didn’t even bother with social media or the internet altogether, like they didn’t have an Instagram just to spite itself. This, and the fact she refuses to join in photographs with him… something about it just doesn’t hit right.

The whole thing, my crush on him and my dislike of her, it’s stupid. I feel really stupid.

Have you (or would you) ever tried role play? What roles are you drawn to?

I guess the student-teacher thing or the human-vampire thing or the human-merperson thing. I don’t care if it happens or not.

Are you more dominant or submissive (or a bit of both)?

Both. Yes, even with as much as I hate the stereotypical female role and find it restrictive, there’s a sub in me.

How do you feel about your own body?

I don’t like it. What’s worse is I don’t know what I dislike about it, it’s just this overall, generalized feeling. Parents called me beautiful but if my piss-poor track record with my peers and crushes and this whole thing here is anything to go by… it should be clear that I’m not good-looking. I only started actually getting hit on very recently, and looking at my appearance when I was a teenager, I did not look good at all. It makes sense that no one ever made a pass on me.

I’ve posted pictures of myself online before and I have literally gotten blocked for it. They weren’t anything risqué, either, they were just… my face. Or me in a t-shirt or a camisole because I like wearing those. But I see people who are *okay looking* (like I could see them on the street willy-nilly but they won’t make me turn my head) get hundreds of likes or notes. I see people—I’m gonna catch hell for this; I have nothing to lose—who are ugly, like uglier than me, get the likes and called “beauty queens” and shit. I hope people realize just how hurtful it is, and I hope that people realize that telling me to “just be confident” in the face of that is genuinely insulting.

How sorry do you have to feel for a person having sex with you?

Sorrier than sorry. Why bother. I can’t give you pleasure or anything, anything other than tears. Just go to sleep.

Could someone know you sexually, properly know you, and still like you?

A certain someone knows about me sexually and I have no clue if he likes me, and it’s not the boy I cybered with, either.

#i need therapy #sexuality #journaling #text #personal

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nothorses · 2 years

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Seeing you speak about your experiences in school has given me a little hope. I'm pretty similar to you academia-wise (severe ADHD, almost identical story about high school) on top of having a physical disability and depression/anxiety combo, and I'm currently struggling for my life in a community college because the school has been pretty adamant about not giving me accommodations I need. Plus covid meant I discovered online learning is awful for me and I dumpstered my gpa so badly the school almost kicked me out (so yay I have to do in-person classes while being high-risk for covid during a time when no one is masking anymore). But a certain academic subject is basically all I live for. I've been losing hope that I'd ever be able to get into a master's program and do the work I've wanted to do since I was like 3, but I see that you have struggled similarly and were still able to go to a different school and get into a program! That makes me feel a bit more optimistic about my situation. I'm not able to word things very eloquently bc I'm sick as hell with the flu rn but I hope you understand what I mean. Higher education is hostile to human life, especially if you have any kind of disabilities. It's inspiring to see others with similar problems to you be able to persevere.

I'm really glad I've been able to give some hope!! I will say- I credit a lot of my success to getting a diagnosis and treatment, specifically at an age where I was able to make changes I needed to make & was in control of my own identity and autonomy. I also really lucked out on that I majored in education in a school notorious for teaching an extremely progressive philosophy of education; literally designed to help students like me. And the professors generally practiced that, too.

I say this only because I want to be honest about what this stuff can be like- i.e., really hard! You can suffer and claw and drag your way through it, and I don't doubt that you can. But if you can get any help or resources, at all, please please do. If you can find someone at your school who will help you figure that out, please do! Whatever you can to make things even a little bit easier is very, very worth it.

But you can do it. And some tips that helped me:

See if your school has learning disability testing; a lot of community colleges do, and can provide accommodations through that without an official diagnosis.

"Academic renewal" can remove classes from your record that you have retaken for a better grade, or that aren't relevant to your major, which can be a HUGE GPA boost depending on your situation.

Transferring to a 4-year means acceptance rates are a lot higher than if you go straight from high school!

Depending on school and professors, oftentimes your professors will give you accommodations without you needing backup from the disability accommodations office. It's worth asking about!

4-year universities are also more likely to have their own internal healthcare services; I was able to get ADHD treatment through mine, and they deal with that WAY more than any other clinic because it's so relevant to school in the first place. They also often work with external insurances, or they might have a school insurance you already pay for as a student.

I hope you're able to get the support you need, and good luck!! And if school ends up just not being for you, that's okay too- it might not be a bad idea to look into ways you can be involved in your field without a degree, or through some kind of alternative education or trade school program. You can always come back and finish your degree another time; you're entitled to the same catalogue rights from when you first started (i.e. the degree requirements stay the same for you, always.)

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zaneaquaman · 2 years

Text

Dating a Suicidal Person as a Suicidal Person

TRIGGER WARNING: This story does make references to depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, and self-harm. If you or someone you know is at risk of hurting themselves or others, please get help or encourage them to get help.

I do not recommend having your first romantic relationship be with an unstable person while you are currently overcoming depression. It’s difficult for me to talk about this and be this vulnerable. Truth be told, I’m worried this topic might be too dark to submit, but this relationship had a huge impact on my life so I figure it’s worth sharing. This is my first time laying out the whole story with all the details to anyone, including my therapist.

Almost exactly a year ago, I met this girl in high school. Let’s call her Emery. We chatted for a bit, realized we had almost identical personalities plus common interests (and I found out she was also not cisgender but rather genderfluid which was another experience we shared), and we exchanged numbers. Emery would text me frequently over the next month. We wouldn’t call because both of us don’t like calling; in fact, calling made Emery nervous. We talked about all kinds of things. Hell, we even played video games online together.

I only got to go to her house once because her mom is super protective. I’d heard a lot about her mom during that first month, but never about her dad, who didn’t live with them. Her mom never let Emery go to other people’s houses unless she fully trusted the person. The mom hardly ever let people over period. Emery wasn’t allowed to go out and meet someone somewhere too. The mom seemed really conservative. I heard all of this when I just met this person. Emery was extremely open with me. She’d tell me everything: when she woke up, when she completed her homework, when she was back from her shower, how restrictive her mom was, what’s been going on with her sister, when she was feeling sad, and every other thought she had. Emery always responded immediately as well. When we texted, we had our read receipts on and our full attention was on each other. We’d apologize if we didn’t respond within two minutes.

It’s important to note that the high school we went to was all girls. Yes, you read that right. I’m transgender. Students at the school were either already aware or were assuming I was actually a guy and used he/him pronouns by that point. My hair was as short as it is now. I wore masculine clothing whenever I could. People were calling me by the right name, Zane, and referring to me with the correct pronouns. The staff and parents? Oblivious. To them, I was a girl. I was going to an all-girls high school, what else could I be? But this is important because, to Emery’s conservative mom, I was also a girl ― just like Emery.

One night, Emery starts sending me some pretty dark texts. “Why do you talk to me?”, “You wouldn’t miss me”, “No one would miss me”, “I wish I could disappear” and she just goes on and on. Again, I’m someone who knows what it’s like to have these thoughts. I’ve had awful, overwhelming dark depression. I’ve been standing on the edge; I’ve looked into a dark tunnel and been unable to see the light on the other side; I’ve almost made myself disappear, but I survived. Reading those texts shot fear straight through me. I was not only afraid for Emery’s safety because she was sounding pretty suicidal, but I was also triggered by what she was saying and that terrified me. I sat staring at my phone, waiting for responses from her, for what I thought was hours. It felt like I couldn’t breathe the whole time. Emery, the person who always answered immediately, would suddenly disappear for fifteen minutes. Then half an hour. The worst part was that, when she wasn’t texting me, I had no idea what she was doing. I didn’t know what she was planning. I didn’t know if she was following through on her plans. I didn’t know if she had killed herself ― so I begged for her to come back and talk to me. Hours later, she finally managed to calm down and push aside the suicidal thoughts.

She had something else she wanted to tell me but was scared to admit it. Naturally, I encouraged her to spill. She revealed that she was into me and wanted to be my girlfriend.

I didn’t know what to say. It was the first time in a number of years someone had found me attractive and “like-liked” me. I wasn’t completely certain how I felt about her either. A whole new wave of feelings hit me, so I said I’d need a little time to think about it. I will say this though: that was the first in three years that I had felt truly, completely happy.

Emery didn’t respond to what I said until we went to school that day. She took me somewhere secluded so we could talk. She apologized for freaking me out yesterday and said it’s okay if I need time to think about it. Later that day, I’d tell her I was into her too.

We had a lovely initial two months. Any depression I had practically vanished due to this relationship, and Emery who I suspected also had depression claimed the same. We were communicating constantly. Flirting, goodnight and good morning texts, getting small gifts for each other, holding hands at school, walking to classes together, using sweet names for each other ― I can go on and on about all the sweet little acts we did for each other, but here is the main takeaway: to this day, I still think Emery would have been the perfect spouse for me. Emery said a similar thing about me. We even joked that I could propose to her using a fidget ring since she loved stealing my fidget rings for a day.

One weekend, Emery visited her dad. I never found out what happened; all she told me was it didn’t go well. She sent a text to me the next school week saying she feels the urge to cut her leg. A couple of days later, she had a talk with her family. I was told later that she had come out to them, both saying we were dating and admitting she was genderfluid to them. Her conservative family was less than supportive and apparently, her supportive sisters, who already knew, did nothing to back her up. We went to school the next day only for me to get called into the office.

“Both staff and students have reported seeing you hold hands and show other public displays of affection with Emery at school,” the lady dressed up in a formal outfit says, “We’re going to have to ask you to stop. There is nothing wrong with you and Emery ― if it were a boy and a girl, or a boy or a boy, we’d ask the same thing. However, this is a catholic school. An all-girls catholic school. Since you are a year older than her and you are a student leader in Campus Ministry, I thought I’d talk to you about it first. You are not allowed to do those things with Emery at school or outside of school while wearing your uniform. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” My voice was shaking.

“I’m going to call in Emery now.”

“It’s really not a good time for her―”

“I’m sorry, but I really must inform her of this. It’s school policy.”

The administrator called in Emery and told her the same thing. I was on the verge of crying. Emery didn’t talk to me for the rest of the school day. She never responded to my texting to check in and asking if we still wanted to meet at her locker. While I was waiting to get picked up that day and chatting with my friends, she called me three times. If I had the chance to go back in time, I would have taken my phone off silent so I could’ve picked up those calls. I texted her once I noticed to ask what was wrong. She never calls.

She said she almost ran away from her family.

She admits still feeling incredibly suicidal when she arrives home. I pace my room, my mind spiraling downwards as panic overruns me. Unable to sit still, I left my house and started walking to hers. I didn’t care that it was an impossible task. I had to do something to comfort her and help her hold off on suicide at least. I continued texting as I walked, urging her to tell her mom. Finally, she caved in. Her mom was more than understanding. Emery would be in and out of school the next week. She always let me know when she was skipping a day or when she’d leave early.

The one time she didn’t tell me that was when it mattered most. Emery had sent me no texts that day. I was walking into the school building with my friends after lunch when Emery and her uncle walked right past us and to the parking lot. I looked back at her in shock. She didn’t even see me. I tried to contact her. It took hours before she told me that she was at a hospital. Emery was evaluated and going to stay at a mental institution for a bit for her safety. She had no idea when she’d be out. Phones weren’t allowed inside. She said I could still visit though. The last words she sent to me were that she loved me and was looking forward to when she’d see me again.

I texted her older sister a few days later to check in and ask if it was possible to visit Emery sometime. The sister responded by saying that, due to COVID, only family members were allowed to see her. I think that was the moment I broke down crying finally. Emery was the one thing that cured my depression. When we were together or talking, I was happy. Being in that relationship made me overjoyed. I could operate normally like everyone else with her. What was I going to do without her for who knows how long?

She was in the hospital for about two and a half weeks. The first week was during finals week, and the second through third weeks ran into winter break. My mental state slowly deteriorated more and more as time passed. I was doing everything I could to hold on in the hopes that, when Emery came back, everything would get better. I was trying to stay strong for her, but it was difficult when I was spending most of my winter alone since my friends all went on trips out of my town. I stayed in my room, all by myself, with nothing but the thoughts and gifts Emery had given beside me for two weeks.

I had to find out by asking her sister for an update that Emery had gotten out. Of course, I did what any excited partner would do and I texted Emery. No response. A couple of hours later, I tried again. Still nothing. I turn to the sister and ask if she’s okay. I’m told that Emery is taking a break from all social interactions and media, including me.

The pain I felt when I heard that is indescribable. To be told your love is back after almost three weeks only for you to be informed that you’ll have to continue waiting to even talk to them for who-knows-how-much-longer is total agony. Not only that but, in the back of my mind, I began to question if I was good enough for her. Maybe that was the reason she didn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I had stressed her out or made her feel worse somehow. I didn’t know. I was left in the dark for another few weeks. I kept texting her goodnight and good morning. I kept praying that one day, just once, I’d wake up the next day and see that she had texted me goodnight too. Every day I held onto hope that she’d return, and every day was a disappointment that piled onto the growing stack of pain and mental deterioration. Often I feared I’d get a text from her sister saying she died.

I never once was angry at Emery though. That’s important, I was totally understanding at the time. I internalized everything, but I didn’t blame Emery. I understood what it’s like to be suicidal and seriously depressed. However, looking back, it’s hard for me to find excuses for any of this anymore. I felt like I was losing my mind, slowly, and everything she did or rather didn’t do made it so much worse.

She finally stopped her social media break after winter break while school resumed. She didn’t text me first when she did stop her social isolation either. She briefly texted her friends, who had no clue and, to this day, still have no clue what was going on with her. A couple of days after she talked to them, Emery sent me a text while I was asleep saying, “we can talk tomorrow ☺”. Of course, I was overjoyed. Finally, Emery would be back!

I texted her…a few times throughout the whole day. She never came back nor said anything. The following day, I sent another good morning text. I watched as, the second the message was delivered, she saw my text and then put her phone on “Do Not Disturb” to shut me out. I would have given anything for her just to say, “I don’t want to talk today.” That would have been fine. I would have understood that, but she never said anything. I was left in suspense. I never knew what was happening on her side of the phone. I never knew if she was going to text me that day. I never knew if I was doing something wrong or if she wanted me to stop. I didn’t know if she loved me anymore. I was left guessing constantly. Days passed and finally, we did get to talk. I offered to put the relationship on hold or straight-up end it if it would be best for her. She opted to pause the relationship for the time being.

A month passes. Emery and I talk sometimes but it’s frustrating. She only texts “when she wants to”. She drops out of conversations “when she’s bored or doesn’t know what to say”, often doing it at random moments or even mid-conversation. Sometimes she reads what I say. Other times, she disregards my words altogether. I’m not joking. After weeks of begging for us to talk and discuss her communication by having a full-on conversation with no distractions, the first time she drops out of the conversation randomly, and the second time she admits to me all of what I said in this paragraph without sugarcoating it. I quoted her word-for-word.

She goes back to the hospital a bit later. The last thing she said to me was that she did something stupid and now no one trusts her. I still don’t know what she did. I had to find out that she was in the hospital by, once again, having to text the sister several days after Emery had gone radio-silent because the sister never once thought Emery’s boyfriend should know vital information like that. She returns from the hospital and says two things. One, she had blocked me before she went to the hospital. Two, she wanted to resume our relationship. I decided to focus solely on the second part so I was thrilled.

The first week after that was great and back to normal, or at least, we went back to how we were prior to Emery's first visit to the hospital. It was amazing. Emery even said she was going to go back to school for a week. I hadn’t seen her in person for three months now.

She didn’t text me that Sunday nor that Monday morning when she claimed she was going to attend school. I only found out she was on campus because two of my friends spotted her and rushed to tell me. She was missing the breaks between classes. At lunch, I worked up the nerve to approach her friends and ask if they knew what was going on with her. Her friends didn’t even know she was at school. We all joined together and went looking for her everywhere. Right when the bell rang, she finally showed up from some secret hiding spot (I suspected one of the bathroom stalls). Emery hugged her friends upon seeing them, but when she noticed me, she ran off without saying a word. Apparently, she found me intimidating.

Tuesday, she didn’t interact with me at all. On Wednesday, she finally worked up the nerve to approach me at school and, although she ignored me while I was around her, I thought it was still progress. On Thursday, she skipped school.

We texted despite the fact that she skipped school. We discussed her communication a bit more, but throughout the whole conversation, I was getting the sense that she had something else she wanted to say. Of course, I urged her to say it if she felt comfortable sharing.

“For some reason, I’m not happy we are together even though I wasn’t happy we were apart either,” she started.

I asked if she wanted to take a break or stop the relationship.

“It’s weird. Before I always wanted to be with you, but now, I wouldn’t be sad if we broke up.”

Oh.

How long has this feeling been going on?

“Constant ever since the first hospital visit,” she admitted.

My heart shattered upon hearing those words. This was the exact moment that my whole world fell apart ― but now, looking back, all I feel is rage. Why hadn’t she told me that earlier? It had been three months since her hospital visit. She kept me on a leash for three months, leading me on only to break my heart in two. I had asked her several times if she wanted to stop or if she felt differently now, and she never said anything. Why did she do this to me? Did she not know how much these blatant, brutal words would hurt? Did she not understand that her actions had consequences? If she had put me down earlier, it would have hurt so much less. It would have been kinder. She chose to wait, to drag it out, and for what?

I had to ask her at least twice more if she wanted the relationship to get her to confirm that we are breaking up since she was unable to say it out loud on her own. Emery also added that she wanted to stop talking to me permanently. I don’t remember what I said in response but I know inside I was already crying.

Did she feel better now at least?

“Not yet, but that’s probably because it hasn’t kicked in yet.”

My whole world was breaking at the seams.

“Are you okay?” she texted.

That was the first time in three months she had asked me that.

Everything I felt was now twisted and distorted, built on a lie. I was distraught, depressed, and lonely ― but I had held onto hope for her, while she was apparently doing just fine without me. I wish she had turned me down right when she got back from the hospital. Now, after so much time of silent suffering, to be told it was all for nothing was a breaking point. I snapped that night and told her everything I had felt at that moment and the past few months. She became horrified. She realized that I was extremely suicidal, and now I was on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid and dangerous.

I’m going to be completely honest here: the next morning, after my parents and brothers had already left the house, I opened up a bottle of champagne in one of the dusty old cabinets and started drinking. I wanted to take some pills with the alcohol but I learned quickly that I despised the taste of champagne, so I didn’t. The only thoughts running through my head were that I just lost the love of my life, and that I couldn’t imagine living alone and unloved again. It was my first relationship ― I was an idiot. I still swear that Emery could have been my soulmate. I keep thinking that if one thing had changed: if Emery’s family wasn’t homophobic and transphobic, if the school had let us keep holding hands, if we were allowed to see each other more, if her mom had acknowledged that Emery had depression sooner, if Emery had said one word to me at all during those months maybe we would still be together. I would have died to hear just one word or sentence or even a complete thought. I cannot stress how suffocating the silence was. For three months I was drowning but now it was like I was burning alive ― so I chugged the champagne until the taste made me want to throw up.

I went to school that day and got called into the office. It wasn’t because of the champagne scent (thank god we were all still wearing masks), but rather it was because of Emery. She told the school I wanted to kill myself. I was sent home. The school counselor said I should be in a mental hospital.

I was suicidal for the next month. I almost killed myself three times. My body was covered head to toe in red marks. To this day, I am terrified of going back to that dark place where I was as suicidal as I was then. I don’t even think about that month because of how bad it was. Sometimes I’m surprised that I’m still here at all. At the time, I know that I wanted ― no, I needed to be hospitalized and away from everything in life. My therapist and psychiatrist tried to put down that idea gently. They insisted that it would make me feel isolated and so much worse. Weeks went by so they decided to shut down the option of me being hospitalized altogether, forcing me to own up to the fact that I’d have to face my current situation and it was like I finally was awake for the first time that whole month. My mind started to clear. I realized I either had to die or keep living. Was I going to let this one event stop the rest of my existence?

No.

I came out on the other side, and the person I am today is not who I was before that relationship. I had to relearn how to piece back my self-confidence and self-worth all on my own. While I can say with confidence that I believe I have done just that, I also can say that I no longer trust that people who have romantic feelings for me will stay with me. I don’t believe in true love anymore. I am convinced that people will leave me and stop caring for me at any given moment. I had anxiety over texting for weeks and would freak out whenever people put me on hold for long periods of time because of the past months of agonized waiting I had been put through. I thought everyone who claimed to love me would one day take it back and turn on me.

But you know what? I wouldn’t take back that horrible relationship experience for anything in the world. I’ve learned what it means to grow attached to someone without fear of losing them. I learned so much more than I thought I would from those months. I’m scared to death of people I love leaving me, but at the same time, I feel so much freer to love people and am prepared to let them go if that is what’s best for them. I don’t believe in true love anymore; that’s okay because I do believe that there are multiple people out there that could be “the one” for me, which gives me so much hope for the future. At the end of the day, I am still a person who has value on my own, and hopefully, I’ll be with someone I adore but if they want to be separated from me then I’m okay with that too. I’ll survive. There will be someone else out there for me. We’re all trying to figure shit out. Of course, it’ll hurt if someone leaves me, but I also know that person is doing what they have to.

This past summer, I got sent a text from Emery. She apologized and thanked me for saving her life (twice). She wanted to reconnect with me. No, more than that, she wanted to resume our romantic relationship. She said she never actually lost feelings for me (to which I wanted to respond, “why the fuck then did you tell me otherwise before and put me through a suicidal downwards-spiral?”). Maybe my story is just another random dumb love story gone wrong. Maybe all the pain I felt over Emery was stupid and childish ― but the pain that built up over their three months only for it to reach a climax of me feeling suicidal for a month was not something that I easily got over. In fact, I’m still getting over it. So how did I respond to her?

I turned her down as gently as I was able to. She may have been one of my soulmates, but she cut me deeper than anything I’d ever felt. I couldn’t trust her the same way I had before and that’s okay. It happens.

This year, I find myself having to reflect on everything that happened as I walk toward the possibility of a serious relationship. It’s terrifying yet electrifying at the same time. While I’m not quite there yet, I’m taking steps towards loving someone completely, trusting that they won’t leave me, and letting go of the fear that love is just going to hurt me in the end. In a few years time, who knows, maybe I’ll still be with this person and see that I can finally stop being afraid.

I have a tier on Patreon and Ko-Fi that costs only $1/month to get access to exclusive poems and writings based on the topic of mental health. More importantly, though, I offer one-on-one communication with you to offer support, advice, or just someone to listen to whatever is going on in your life. My goal is to create a safe space where people can discuss mental illnesses and connect with one another. You are not alone in your struggles. I'm here to listen any time.

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bylightofdawn · 1 year

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WIP SUNDAY

Ya'll I really wanted to just post the entire confrontation scene with Slick. Or Cody and Rex's reunion, or even the bits about Cody tying at the mention of the infamous recruitment poster.

THERE IS SO MANY THINGS I WANTED TO SHARE FROM THIS CHAPTER. Holy fuck.

I settled on this one. Takes place after the shitshow of Rex finding out Slick is alive and has been unknowingly part of his clone rescue operation due to the splintered and highly compartmentalized nature of their network.

It's super rough as always. I am not kidding when I say out of this 22,000K word fic (seriously, El?? Like really control yourself woman) it has 999+ suggestions. It's actually giving me anxiety thinking about having to edit this.

EDIT: I also had a minor heart-attack because I'd opened a new focus document so I could try and fix this up a little bit and it replaced my existing doc and I COULD NOT FIND IT. And my backup file in google docs only has the first 15 pages? Like I've been regularly copy/pasting I thought but it was like troll lol lol lol no.

I was able to recover it but ya'll. I would have been devastated if I lost all that time and work. Like I would left the internet for another two years level of devastated. orz. Okay, maybe not that extreme but it would have been ugly.

Outside, the heat was still unbearable, but at least the suns mainly had set now, so the chances of anyone recognizing them outright were relatively slim.

Because his treacherous sense of balance and knees didn’t feel like they were up for any extended walking, Cody indicated a crumbling mudbrick as a place to cop a squat, and they made their way towards it.

“I don’t understand; you sound like you were defending him back there, Codes. Slick? You remember what he did, don’t you?”

He supposed it was a valid concern concerning the recent biochip he’d had in his head.

It didn’t mean it didn’t rankle all the same.

“Of course I remember what he did. I wanted to shoot him myself when I first saw him. Or I would have if I hadn’t been on the brink of karking death.”

The concern seemed to win out over outrage. “What? What happened to you, Cody?”

“I deserted, but I didn’t have a good plan in place, and it bit me in the ass. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to get off of Coruscant if you’re a rogue clone. I thought I could raise the credits and find a way of buying my way off the planet. But with these new chain codes, I couldn’t find legal work. Not to mention they have bounty hunters and entire gangs that roam around hunting for clone deserters. So I had to keep going deeper and deeper until I was in the lowest of the low places. I ended up in a camp built by other unhoused illegals. It was hell, Rex.” Cody confessed softly, and he distantly felt his brother sling his arm around his shoulder in a comforting manner.

The movement jostled his wounded arm, which meant the good pain meds were wearing off but also suggested he’d probably be able to stand up straight and run if he needed to, so he’d take the tradeoff.

“I took what work I could, which, let me tell you? None of the awful jobs we had in the GAR could compare. This was stuff so vile and noxious or too dangerous they didn’t even want to risk the cost of repairing droids to accomplish it. It was pure, predatory exploitation of the most vulnerable residents of the planet. And there are entire cottage industries around it.”

The anger that kindled in his heart when he spoke of that was white hot and fueled with still real memories of what he’d been forced to do to survive.

“And, of course, the pay was a complete joke. I could have worked the rest of my unnaturally accelerated life and wouldn’t have been able to save up enough to book passage off that planet. Then I got injured, and it’s not like I could walk into a med-clinic asking for treatment. So it got infected and finally got so bad that I legitimately traded away every credit I’d scrapped together to buy a bacta tube older than we are. I’m not being hyperbolic when I say I was on the brink of death when Slick found me.”

“Where did you get wounded?” Rex’s protective little brother instincts reared their ugly head, and it was only then that he seemed to notice the blood that soaked through the bandages and the sleeve of his arm. “What the hell Cody?!”

“Relax, I probably just popped a stitch or something. Sy will prolly complain about me ruining her beautiful work or some osik, but it can wait a bit. This is more important.”

The look Rex shot him was unfriendly and patented Captain Rex’s judgment.

“So out of the top five list of people I least expected to show up coming to my rescue was Slick. Right up there with Darth-kriffing-Vader and the vaping Emperor. Not going to lie, vod. He got the drop on me, too; I was sitting there in the garbage and refuse, trying to pull the rags. I laughingly called my shirt, and there Slick was standing over me with a blaster in my face. I thought I was a goner right then and there. Stars know if our situations had been reversed, I wouldn’t have hesitated to put a blaster bolt in his head.”

“Exactly!” Rex huffed.

“And I would have been wrong. He ended up stunning me, taking me back to his ship, and saving my karking life. He gave me medical treatment to keep me from losing my arm or worse and then told me how he was working on smuggling brothers off of Coruscant. He talked about how Howzer and his team saved him and gave him a new purpose. He’s made it his purpose to save as many brothers as possible, and I believe him.”

Rex immediately scoffed at the concept, unwilling to even contemplate that Slick had anything but ulterior motives in mind.

“Think about it. What was the reason he gave us all those years ago for why he betrayed the GAR? He wanted to save as many brothers as possible by cutting the war as short as possible. It was a completely idiotic plan and utter nonsense, but I believe he believed that even now.”

“It doesn’t forgive what he did, Cody.”

“It doesn’t, but everyone deserves redemption. And after three years of rotting in a jail cell, can you say anyone else will understand what our brothers still trapped behind enemy lines are going through?”

“Doesn’t matter; I wouldn’t trust that quacta as far as I could throw him with one finger.”

“I understand that. Allow him to prove you wrong.” An idea that was so wild and radical came to him that he barely dared utter it aloud. “I want to help you with this operation. What you’re doing here is…it’s everything. And I want in. Put Slick under my command, and if he proves to be a traitor, I’ll shoot him myself.”

The questioning look Rex shot him spoke volumes. “Can I trust your judgment on that?”

Cody shot him an exasperated look in return. “Of course, you can. I haven’t forgiven him myself, and I don’t know if I will ever be in a place where I can. But I understand his need to do something. To save as many of our brothers as he can. It’s a chance at redemption for him, and let’s be honest with ourselves. We all have things we want to make amends for. Mistakes we wish we could unmake and people we couldn’t save.”

It didn’t take a graduate in psychology degree to know who Cody was talking about, and Rex just leaned his head against his brother’s with a quiet sigh.

“I couldn’t save Skywalker or Amidala, or Jesse…Kix…Fives. I get it. I hope you’re not setting yourself up for disappointment, vod.”

“If I am, it wouldn’t be the first or last time. Now…tell me about Ahsoka? You managed to get her out?”

Rex sighed and quietly told the painful story of what had happened on the Tribunal and everything that had happened from there. How’d he’d painstakingly build up his network of clones trying to save clones. How he’d heard whispers of a network doing the same thing for Jedi.

That knowledge had Cody’s heart leaping in his throat.

They talked for a while, catching up on what felt like years of missing time when in reality it had barely been a year.

Eventually got interrupted, not by one of the others but by an Eopie whose paddock fence they were seated on made its presence known by nuzzling at the top of Cody’s hair and lipping at his curls in an exploratory manner that didn’t bode well for his continued possession of said hair.

He pulled away with a laughing grimace. “I think it’s trying to eat my hair.”

Rex laughed uproariously at the mental picture. “I mean, you’re not exactly the picture of regulation anything right now, ori’vod. Come on, lets go join the others.”

“Can I trust you to not try and shoot Slick?”

“I won’t shoot him so long as he doesn’t do anything shifty. That’s the best you’re gonna get out of me. And I still think you’re nuts wanting to take him on but if it means we get you as an asset, I’d be a damned fool to look a gift bantha in the mouth.”

#wip sunday #commander cody #commander rex #el writes #fanfiction snippets

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thewanderingace · 2 years

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Man I'm so sick and tired of one of my friends. I've been out of work for a while, I only do a measly few hours of voluntary work a week, mainly because of reasons related to anxiety and every time I see them or we have a catch up they feel the need to start asking me questions about whether or not I'm working or been applying for jobs as if it's the only thing that defines a person. A few years ago they even got drunk at a party and asked me if I'm going to get a job because otherwise I'll be fucked in front of a bunch of people, including fucking strangers.

Anyway they messaged on our group chat a few weeks ago for updates on us all since we haven't spoken in a while. I basically avoided the question because I knew they were going to ask me about whether or not I have a job yet as per fucking usual and I wasn't in the mood to explain for the one millionth time that I'm still jobless. So instead of taking the hint that I wasn't up for a conversation, instead they decided to directly message me and ask me straight out if I'm working anywhere 'at all' at the moment. Like no I'm not and I don't see how it's any of your fucking business anyway? I get this crap enough from family members (not my immediate family, they're all understanding). It doesn't even impact you. How much I'd love to fucking tell them that. It just really fucks me off. I know for a fact they're judging me for it, probably bitching about me to their friends and family and it just makes me feel like complete shit.

I'm really sorry for the rant, I just feel like nobody understands that it's not a fucking choice. Trust me I'd love nothing more than to have it all figured out and to be making something of myself instead of relying on my parents at my age even just to shut everyone up and stop them from judging me all the fucking time

Oh nonny I am so sorry you're dealing with that! That's awful!! I've definitely been there, am there. It is not fun and having people constantly remind you about it all sucks so much. It's not okay for your friend to constantly being it up all the time. And to directly tou message you about it? What the fuck? That's ride as hell! It's none of their business how you live your life. And being jobless is so difficult and demeaning and depressing enough without people constantly haranguing you about it. I'm so sorry nonny. Maybe try and tell your friend how you feel and ask them to stop? I had to do that for one friend and it kinda worked. They stopped asking me all the time at least. People really have no idea how hard it is and terrible it feels to be in this situation. It grates on you for sure. You're in good company here nonny.

Also, you can come rant any time. I'm always happy to listen and commiserate.

#stephs stuff #ask #steph replies

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ac3id · 4 years

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Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too?

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking......

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha, @erenyeagersbasement , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs, @kuremis, @amazing-fandoms,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed.

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy.

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in.

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night.

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe.

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A.

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya.

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved.

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you.

And that brought you to the first day of school.

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone.

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her.

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day.

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious.

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came.

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell.

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe.

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever.

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks.

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks.

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya.

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped.

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down.

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him.

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay.

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but.

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself.

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin.

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship.

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with.

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone.

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off.

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you.

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad.

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse.

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him.

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself.

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his.

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it.

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was.

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps.

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most.

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders.

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.”

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign.

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare.

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding.

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.”

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away.

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you.

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk.

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious.

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul.

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands.

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word.

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.”

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise.

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks.

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys.

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging.

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t.

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid.

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.”

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head.

“The choice is yours.”

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it?

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit.

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer.

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground.

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo.

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t be a little brat.”

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you - calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.”

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?”

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play.

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.”

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?”

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds.

Your eyes widen in fear.

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear.

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them.

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls.

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient.

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest.

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school.

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else, with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind.

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak.

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost.

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs.

“Cute panties,” he remarks.

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou.

“Lick it off,” he commands.

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed.

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him.

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.”

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible.

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass.

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend.

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy.

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says.

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?”

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you.

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry.

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently.

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence.

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs.

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room.

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry.

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.”

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you.

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it.

The power trip drives him crazy.

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit.

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl.

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare.

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally.

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers.

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle.

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry. A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up.

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions.

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens.

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can.

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most.

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done...

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says.

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut.

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it.

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments.

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile.

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks.

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see.

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt.

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor.

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse.

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed.

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks.

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie.

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run.

This was totally not awesome.

811 notes · View notes

willwriteforhugs · 4 years

Text

ateez says “i love you” for the first time

ateez scenario - all members (individually) x reader

genre: fluff, angst if your vision is worse than 20/60

word count: 4k (total)

warnings: minor intrusive thoughts, some arguing and cursing

a/n: this fic should be taken lightheartedly! i really enjoyed writing this, but please remember that it is for entertainment purposes only. also beware: some of these are a bit longer than others? please know that it wasn’t intentional lol (no writer’s bias here!) also, the gif above does not belong to me! thank you so much for reading <3

hongjoong:

quiet, repetitive sound effects play through the outside of hongjoong’s headphones. you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. even when your boyfriend isn’t working, he’s working.

you’d been together two months already, but sometimes you worried. he was so busy, and you knew it wasn’t his fault... but you weren't sure how he really felt about you. for you, the first few dates had been butterflies-in-the-stomach, giggling-like-crazy, head-over-heels-for-this-man type emotions. but as you sit in his studio on this saturday night, you start to wonder if he’d ever felt those things.

you tilt your head to look at him. god, he’s beautiful. those long lashes that you would absolutely kill for, his curious eyes... everything about him screamed “love of your life!!!”

hongjoong shifts in his seat, glancing down at you. he smiles a little, and plants a small kiss on your temple. “ten more minutes, my love. i’m almost done.”

you smile and nod sleepily.

the ten minutes pass in relative silence, minus joong’s music, which was accompanied by the tapping of his foot.

finally, he shuts his laptop. he stands up, returning to his desk to put everything back in order. you stay where you are, watching him.

after a moment, you stand up. “i’m gonna go heat up the car.”

he looks back at you, already protesting. “babe, you don’t need to do that. plus it’s late- i don’t want you out there all alone.”

“i’ll be okay, hongjoong. you know how cold that car will be.”

he holds your gaze for a moment. “alright.”

you turn to leave as he continues talking.

“i’ll be out in just a minute, okay? i love you.”

you freeze, halfway out the door. your head swivels back, and your boyfriend is staring at you with wide eyes, clearly catching what he’d said.

“what did you say?”

he’d said it in passing. of course he loves you, the same way hongjoong loves everyone, why would he-

“i said i love you,” he sighs. he sets down his bag and crosses the room in large strides. he comes to a stop in front of you, and lifts his hands to cradle your face. “and i meant it. i do. i didn’t mean to tell you like that, but- yeah. i love you.”

your voice cracks when you finally manage to speak. “i love you, too.”

seonghwa:

the heels of your boots make angry clicking sounds on the floor of the apartment complex. tears prick at your eyes, and you increase your pace.

just get through the door, y/n. don’t you dare cry in public.

work had been awful, of course. apparently, you’d made a mistake while filing paperwork last week, and now the whole office was behind, scrambling to make up for lost time. learning about your slip up had been hard enough. being absolutely screamed at by your boss had pushed you over the edge. you had managed to finish your hours, but now, you practically sprint for the safety of your apartment.

you take the stairs two at a time, dignity long abandoned. when you get to your front door, your hands shake trying to unlock it. a sob tears through your throat. why, god? what did i do to you?

the door finally swings open, and you stumble inside. kicking off your shoes, you walk straight to the bedroom, where you sink to the floor and begin to cry.

thump.

you raise your head. what the hell was that?

thump.

a beat passes, then a voice from the other room: “hello? y/n, is that you?”

the door to your bedroom opens, and there he is. seonghwa, your boyfriend of only three months, stands in the doorway. upon seeing you, his face cracks.

“y/n? babe, what happened? i thought i heard you get home, are you okay?”

hearing your boyfriend’s concern only made you cry harder. frantic, he hits the floor next to you and tugs your hands away from your face. “talk to me. what happened?”

your voice is croaky and broken, but you manage to recap the story from work. by the end of it, seonghwa looks almost as emotional as you do.

“what a douchebag. who does he think he is?”

you reach out and gently swat at his thigh. “don’t talk all big.”

he manages a small smile. “i’m sorry, y/n. tell me what you need right now. let me help you.”

“can... can you just hold me?”

this is something seonghwa knows how to do. he crawls over to you and leans against the bed, hugging you tightly from behind. “yes, i can do that.”

a beat passes.

“you know i love you, right?”

your heart skips a beat. he’d never said that before, not like this. but you don’t say anything. you reply by sinking deeper into his hold, letting out a long sigh.

he understands.

yunho:

“okay, seriously. where are we going?” you look over at your boyfriend, feeling the edges of anxiety begin to creep in.

yunho, who’s seated at the wheel of the car, looks over at you, his eyes crinkling slightly. a smile tugs at his lips. “why are you worried?”

you huff and slouch back in your seat. your seat belt digs into your shoulder, making you cringe. “i’m not worried.” you lie. “i just want to know where you’re taking me.”

“well, i already told you- it’s a surprise.”

“yes, but-” you hold up your hand, counting on your fingers. “it’s not my birthday. it’s not your birthday. it’s not a holiday. it’s not our anniversary. so. what is it?”

yunho glances at you again, exasperated. “you are so difficult. just let me treat you, you dumbass.”

“treat me? yunho-ah, i swear to god-”

“don’t! it’s nothing big! now shut up- you’re on talking restrictions.”

you gape at him. “talking restrictions? i’m not a six year old-”

“oh look, we're here!” your counterpart shouts over you. he turns the vehicle and pulls into a parking lot you don’t recognize. you peer out the window, craning your neck in order to see the building in front of you. “is this a hotel?”

yunho hums a confirmation. “your bag is in the back.”

- - -

ten minutes later, you find yourself standing in what’s probably the nicest hotel room you’ve ever graced. you gape at your boyfriend, hoping he realizes how crazy he is.

yunho sees your expression and laughs, his hand instinctively rising to cover his teeth. “do you like it?”

you stutter, unable to hide your surprise. “i- yes, of course. but, yunho, you said it wasn’t anything big!”

he laughs again. “nothing’s too big for you, love.”

your face flushes. god, you love him. yes, he is a hopeless romantic, and yes, he says cheesy things. but you’d been in love with him for a while now, you think. since before he’d even asked you out. you’d always admired him from afar, but yes- you know it was love all along.

“um. is there...a particular... reason? for this?” you manage. surely this isn’t as random as it seems.

yunho crosses the room to stand with you, wrapping his long arms around you. you step back in surprise. “yunho-ah?”

he buries his face in your neck, inhaling. “yeah, i-yeah. i guess i just wanted to say-” he pulls away to meet your eyes. “i just wanted to say- to show that i love you.”

you blink, and say the first thing you think of.

“thank you?”

yunho looks surprised for a moment- then bursts into laughter. you gasp, trying to backtrack. “wait- no- no i love you too,” you scramble.

yunho bends over, only laughing harder. “babe-” he says between wheezes. “that was so funny. i love you so much.”

you’re laughing too, now.

yeosang:

your finger traces circles on the fabric of the couch, and you sigh contentedly. you glance to your left, gazing up at your boyfriend, who’s scrolling on his phone. you and yeosang are only a few months into your relationship, but nights like this already feel so natural.

but looking up at him now, you can’t help but feel that something’s a bit off. you sit up, brushing his arm away from you. “yeosang?”

he looks up at you, eyes wide and curious. “what?”

“are you alright?”

he looks a bit taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i don’t know, you just- you seem stiff. did something happen? or- was there something you needed to talk about?”

for a moment, he doesn’t answer. then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “you’ve gotten really good at reading me, you know that?”

you tilt your head. “sure, i guess? what did you need to talk about?”

“oh, it’s just- um- something i wanted to say...” his voice trails off.

you lean forward, worried. “what?”

you’ve known yeosang so long, but you have no idea where he’s going with this. what if he wants to break up? what if he wants to go to third base? do people even say ‘third base’ anymore? what if-

“it’s just. um.” he pauses again, even after interrupting your thoughts. “iloveyou,” he says in a rush. as soon as the words leave his mouth, yeosang’s face turns beet red. his expression twists into a grimace.

you feel your own face betray your surprise. “wait, what?”

he won’t meet your eyes, but your heart speeds up. “yeosang-yah, what did you say?”

he responds in a mumble. “i said i love you.”

you feel so many things at once, and you want to say a million things. you’d dated before, but no one had ever told you they loved you. you feel your eyes begin to burn from withholding tears. “yeosang.”

he looks up at you, his eyes begging for something more.

“i love you too.” you cut him off before he can ask. “and before you ask- yes, i’m sure.”

you reach forward, running a finger down the side of his face. “you dumbass.”

his eyes widen in mock anger. “dumbass!? i can’t even-” he grabs your waist and shoves you back on the couch. “i can’t believe you!”

you burst into laughter. “big words for a man who’s just confessed his love!”

san:

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

you throw your hands in the air, exasperated.

san’s face flushes red. “well i don’t know what you want from me!”

your mouth drops open as he turns away. “no. no fucking way- you can’t walk in here and start a fight just to leave! you don’t know what you want from me? you started this!!”

your boyfriend turns to face you again. his eyes burn with barely controlled anger. “no- i wanted a civil conversation. you were the one who went and got all defensive.”

“san, you’re accusing me! how the hell am i supposed to respond?”

“i didn’t accuse you of anything. i asked you a damn question.”

“an accusatory question.”

san rolled his eyes with so much emotion it hurt to watch. you clench your hands. you couldn’t believe him. don’t misunderstand- you and san usually got along great, and the two of you had been in a steady relationship for a few months now. but san was so emotional- in a way you just weren't. you didn’t understand his emotional insecurities. so when he came home asking why you felt the need to ignore him in favor of your other friends- you couldn’t believe your ears.

back in the moment, you make a groaning sound. “san-ah,” you begin, trying to keep your voice even. “i just don’t understand what makes you think all that.”

san is still upset, clearly. he scoffs, tossing his head. “please, y/n- you’re always making excuses to leave, it’s like you don’t even want to see me!”

“but that’s not true!”

“just the other night you went out with friends, when i specifically said i wanted to be with you!”

“but san- i hardly see them either! you know how busy i am-”

“i’m even busier than you are!” he argues.

“don’t cut me off!” you seethe. “besides, why is it any business of yours when i want to go out? i don’t-”

“of course it’s my business!” san steps closer, pointing down at your chest. “it’s my business because i love you!”

your words die in your throat. “i...what?”

he loves you? now? he’d never told you that before...

what just happened?

san grimaces, and the anger leaves his face. his whole body seems to deflate.

your own pulse seems to slow down, and you sigh. san runs a hand through his hair, looking away.

“y/n, i... i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to-” he cuts himself off, as if afraid of his own words.

“san....”

“no, i’m sorry. i can’t believe i blew up like that.” he looks saddened as he takes a step towards you. his hand brushes your elbow, and you shut your eyes.

you hear him whisper; “can i hold you?”

you nod, then practically melt in his arms. “i’m sorry, too.” you mumble into his chest. for a moment, the two of you just stand there, letting the embrace linger.

“did...” you begin. “did you mean it? what you said?”

san pulls away to gaze into your eyes. he brushes a stray hair from your eyes.

“yeah. yeah, i did. i’m sorry i told you like that.”

you pause. “it’s okay. i love you too, though.”

for the first time tonight, your boyfriend smiles.

mingi:

it’s snowing. and for the first time this season, too. you can’t help but grin as you watch the snow fall, face peeking through the curtains.

“are you actually that excited?”

you turn to look mingi, your boyfriend, in the eye. “yes, yes i am. are you telling me you’re not?”

he smiles- a big, genuine smile, the one you’d grown to love more than anything. “no, i am. i’m gonna throw it at you, though. just a warning.”

you make a face, and turn back to the window. you and mingi had only been dating a few weeks, but you’d known each other much longer than that. though your relationship had only just begun, it felt like you’d been dating for years.

many of your girlfriends had said the beginning of a relationship was- while being the most fun part- also the most stressful. there was supposed to be a lot of pressure. but you didn’t feel that way with mingi. you had kissed him only when you felt comfortable, you had met his family only when you felt comfortable... though you hadn’t slept together yet, you felt no rush. part of you wondered if you were doing something wrong, but mingi seemed happy too, so you tried not to overthink it.

the snow continues to fall in large chunks. after a few moments of peace, you hear an odd shuffling behind you. you turn around, and mingi is standing there, wearing a full winter parka, looking like he was about to pick you up.

“dammit!” he curses. “i was gonna try to scare you.”

“ha-ha.” you deadpan.

“yeah, yeah. put this on.” he tosses your own coat at you, and gestures for you to hurry.

“hold on, you don’t actually want to go play in that, do you?”

“that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

you start to protest, but mingi cuts you off by snatching your coat back and zipping you in it himself. then he grabs you by the waist and drags you off the couch.

after several minutes of wrestling, you find yourself outside in the cold, sitting on your butt in a snowbank. “oh, it’s on, you little-”

mingi laughs and runs away, then picks up an armful of snow and tosses it in your face. you blink in shock, and he doubles over, laughing even harder than before.

“song mingi! you have some nerve!”

the next 15 minutes consist of you and mingi trying to see how much snow you could force onto the other, along with the occasional laugh break.

finally, mingi collapses onto his back in the snow, breathing heavily. you plop down next to him, giggling.

“i hate you,” you say between hiccups of laughter.

he turns and grins at you, before turning his face to the sky. “well, i love you.”

you catch his eye, unsure that you heard him correctly. “come again?”

“i love you!” he shouts at the sky, then rolls over to meet your gaze. before you can manage an answer, he leans over and presses his cold lips against yours.

wooyoung:

you take another deep breath, determined to keep your heart rate down.

you are going to do fine. it’s just one interview...

oh, but you really want this job. what if you do terribly?

you shove the thought out of your head. you glance at the clock. 10:56. 19 minutes until you either do amazing or fuck up your entire career. you reach over and pick up your phone. you’d left early, so should you just try to kill the time?

you have a text. it’s from wooyoung, your boyfriend.

wooyoung: hey

wooyoung: if you see this before your interview call me

you wonder what he could possibly need from you right now, but you hit dial anyways.

you and wooyoung were... a lot. for a while, you’d been in a “relationship that’s not really a relationship” type of thing... but he’d only officially asked you out a few weeks ago. you liked him a lot, actually. you loved how outgoing he was, and how much he seemed to care about you. and his friends were nice. plus, he was- well- not bad on the eyes.

he picks up on the second ring. “hey!”

“hi?” you ask. “was there something you needed?”

on the line, wooyoung fakes a gasp. “i can’t just talk to you whenever i want?”

“you asked me to call you.”

“whatever.”

you sigh, laughing a little.

“anyways,” he continues. “i just wanted to see how you were doing. i know you were worried.” your heart flutters at the thought that he was thinking of you now. but the interview...

“oh.” your mind turns back to the event to come. “right. uh, i’ll be okay.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, wooyoung. i mean, i’m definitely nervous, and i can think of 1000 ways this could go wrong, but overall, i’m alright!”

your boyfriend laughs. “i know. really, i know you’ll do well. you’re one of the smartest people i know- they’d be fools to turn you down.”

- - -

three hours later, you sit at your kitchen table, mindlessly picking at your lunch. across from you, wooyoung looks concerned.

“baby, is the food bad, or...?”

you look up. “no! no, not at all! i’m just- i’m just not very hungry.”

wooyoung’s eyes crinkle with sympathy. “you’re nervous?”

yes. yes, of course. you have no idea how that interview went. but you were positive that the man in the grey suit hated your guts, even though-

“y/n-ah,” your boyfriend calls you back down to earth. “it’ll be fine. please eat.”

you shove some of the food into your mouth, more to satisfy him than yourself. suddenly, your cell phone rings. the sound makes you jump. you pull it out answering it automatically. “yes?”

as the voice on the other end of the line talks, you nearly drop your chopsticks. wooyoung leans forward, trying to eavesdrop, and you shoo him away.

a minute passes, and you slowly lower your phone as the woman on the line ends the call. your boyfriend is staring at you.

“who was that?”

your voice is froggy. “wooyoung- i got the job.”

a beat passes, then he leaps up. “you- you did?!? i knew it! oh my god!” he grabs your wrists and yanks you out of your seat. he spins you in a frantic circle, ending it by slamming you into his chest, hugging you hard.

“i knew you could do it, baby. wow, i love you so much.”

your heart skips a beat at these words, but wooyoung himself doesn’t seem to catch them- he keeps talking, because that’s just who he is. but you don’t miss it.

you know he meant it.

jongho:

“boom! look at that one!” you laugh, fitting together another set of puzzle pieces.

jongho, your boyfriend, glances over, letting a small smile escape his lips. “it’s upside down, babe.”

you look back down at the pieces, realizing he’s right.

“oops.” you giggle, flipping them upright. “i think they do go on the left, though.”

you’d been so excited for today. you had done nothing all morning, only being able to think about what you were going to do with your boyfriend later. nowadays, with ateez’s popularity, you had very little alone time with jongho. you’d only been dating a short while- but you still wanted to see him as often as possible.

so when he’d come up to your apartment holding a jigsaw puzzle, you immediately agreed to participate. you’d never been particularly good at puzzles, but jongho seemed to enjoy them. it’s the calm, you think. there’s a lot of chaos in his day to day job, so it’s really not surprising that he enjoys things like this.

you watch his hands as they roam across the table, searching for edge pieces.

he has such beautiful hands.

“oh, y/n-ah- can you hand me that one there? the blue?”

you hand him the cutout. “what is this supposed to be again?”

“uuh-” jongho hesitates, glancing at the discarded box on the floor. “an alaskan sunset?”

the two of you meet eyes, then look at the table. he bursts into laughter. “are we doing something wrong? alaskan sunset...” he manages.

god, his smile. you love his smile, probably more than anything. you didn’t see it too often- that full, gummy smile of his. your heart flutters as you watch him laugh.

he meets your eyes again. “how are we bad at this? it’s a puzzle!”

“well, it’s your puzzle, and it’s 2000 pieces! who willingly does 2000 piece puzzles?!” you begin to laugh too.

jongho’s chuckling ceases, and he reaches over to grasp your wrist. he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “i love to see you laugh like that.”

you feel your face burst into flames. you sheepishly try to pull your hand back. “jongho-yah...”

he smiles again and tugs you closer, placing his forehead against yours. for a moment, he just looks into your eyes, his own sparkling with curiosity and adoration. then he closes his eyes and leans in, pressing his warm lips against yours.

the kiss is tentative, inviting. you lean into it, hoping he catches on. he does- he begins to kiss you harder, parting your lips with his own. this goes on for a moment before he pulls away.

you almost whine, wishing he hadn’t ended it so quickly. but looking at him, you can see his face is red, and he won’t meet your eyes. before you can truly wonder about his well-being, jongho comes in again, stopping just before his lips meet yours.

he looks down at the floor, his lips barely brushing yours. “y/n.”

you make a small “hmm?” noise.

his words come out in a low whisper. “i think i’m in love with you.”

you almost jerk back in surprise. but instead, you let a beat pass in silence. then you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his chin. “and i think i’m in love with you.”

<333

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jonnnysuh · 3 years

Text

could we get along with svt in real life?

A collaborative series by @vernonsnostrils and me (Nala)!

A/N: Lately Bee and I have been doing daily rankings for fun and we decided to share our very very specific and dumb insights with all of you. For this one we're ranking who we think could tolerate us......... <3 Warning: Dumb info ahead

NALA:

13.Wonwoo – looks scary. I also have a rbf so imagine us together omg. Everyone would think we’re vampires. No one would want to be friends with us so we’d only have each other.

12.Woozi – I feel like I know nothing about him :-( He’s an amazing musician, and does come off as a little tiny bit mischievous. I feel like Woozi is the type of guy I have every class with but then we graduate never saying a word to each other.

11. Jun – I think Jun is funny as hell but he’s so quiet. I’d want to be his friend but I wouldn’t know how to approach him. Everyone loves him tho so he has his pick of friends and it does not include me LMAO

10. Jeonghan – (this one kind of doesn't make sense bc he should be higher on the list,, but also?? i'm the one who made this list so fite me) but I think that me and him are pretty similar. We both have a side that’s devious and wants to create havoc but we’re also the mom friend that takes care of everyone and with that I feel like we’d butt heads/ be the designated parents which is EW I am 20 years old,, I'm no one's mommy YUCK.

9. Joshua – he’s also quiet but I know he has a good sense of humour!!!! Hypes up my bad ideas bc he’s not involved -- but he will be giving me a thumbs up in the sidelines. I feel like he’s the type to make me text the guy I have a crush on “Just do it. What do you have to lose?” UM my dignity??? Tf Josh.

8.DK – The human version of a “pick-me-up” He is so “no thoughts, head empty” and I am too. Let’s go cloud watching !!!!!!!!! Let’s pick flowers !!!! A good friend to text on a bad day bc he will literally tell you the most embarrassing thing that happened to him, and even though you’ve heard it before it’ll still make you laugh.

7. The8 – simple, really. He likes art and I love art. He likes fashion, I like fashion. I feel like we could talk shit together LMAO. He has the most specific roasts but they’re always on point. I need someone who’s a little bit mean in my life <3

6. Mingyu – I know I could bully him jokingly and he’d take it (bc he knows I’m joking) but it wouldn’t stop him from pouting a bit. I feel like he’d be scared of me at first LMAO. We both share the hobby of photography so my ideal day out with him is just wandering around with cameras and taking pics of things we think are beautiful. Also forcing each other to pose in front of a dirty brick wall bc “IT LOOKS COOL, TRUST ME.” “WAIT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO POSE THO” and then he’d literally have to mold me into a good pose bc I am Play-doh

5. Vernon – The calm to my crazy, convinces me not to beat someone’s ass. Walks into my room to say nothing else but “Spaghetti” and then leaves quietly. Doesn’t talk to me for 5 months but will send me a meme at 5am bc it reminded him of an inside joke we had. Live-texts his emotions to me while watching tv shows, and shares new conspiracy theories with me. He’s a little bit too chill, I need someone ready to fuck shit up.

4. S Coups – is reliable and gives good advice bc he’s also a ball of anxiety. Nags me to do the right thing. Messes with me a lot. Would stay on the phone with me if I was home alone and told him I heard a noise. Says “Calm down there’s no one there.” BUT he’d also say shit like “check under your bed”

3. Seungkwan– I feel like we’re just as annoying as each other. He has the biggest heart and is super encouraging and thoughtful. Half the time we’re joking around, and the other half we’re fighting. Very much love-hate. Capricorns and virgos are a superior duo. I said it.

2. Hoshi– all round good vibes. Chaos and Loudness matched. Doesn’t always have to be around a lot of people bc he creates the fun when it’s just us two. The kind of friend I practice flirting on and everyone’s like ??? “You’re in love with him” no bro I’m just bored… we just do this kind of shit and he is IMMUNE to my lovey antics by now.

1.Dino– We bully each other a lot but we also have each other’s backs. Definitely not ride or dies tho bc we will tell each other when the other fucked up. We are sarcastic dumb dumbs and that’s why we like each other. I feel like he would only tell me how much he cares about me on my birthday.

BEE:

13. mingyu – i literally don’t know what i would say to mingyu. “tall man” or “what up big boy.” i would be scared of him until someone taught me how not to be. like i gotta hang out with him in a group setting for three months straight until i can say hi to him when i enter a room. if i saw him i would simply just Not See Him.

12. wonwoo – like mingyu i don’t know if i’d have anything to say to him. him and mingyu both have popular high school boy personalities and that scares me.

11. josh – besides being californian, i don’t know if we’d have anything to talk about outside of in n out and traffic. he’s too pretty for me.

10. The8 – i feel like we’ve been over this for me. he’s too intellectual and polite i wouldn’t have much to say to him. but i feel like we could talk good shit about other people.

9. jun – i think i get along well with people with quiet funny personalities. like the kind where you don’t have to necessarily say anything but look at them and they’re telling you what they’re thinking. he knows that i know. so he kept reacting and looking at me. i think it’d take a while to develop a friendship though.

8. jeonghan – i wanna cause chaos with jeonghan. i want to do lots of things with jeonghan i feel like he would give me piggyback rides while sliding with his socks on the floor. he would tease me and i would be offended for five minutes while he pretends to tell me he’s sorry (he’s not).

7. dino – dino and i would be like twins building a sandcastle on the beach. that’s our vibe. like the kids you meet on vacation and play pirates with at the pool. relegated to the kids table kind of vibe.

6. scoups – he’s like the type to play catch with the stuffed animal in the room while we sit on the floor and chat. like he just arrived and is asking me about my day and picks it up from my bed and we throw it around while talking.

5. seungkwan – i think seungkwan and i could sit and talk outside on the patio when the stars are bright. like we could sit outside and stare out at the stars while i talk about my biggest dreams and don’t even need to see him to know that he thinks the world of me

4. hoshi – i see a lot of face masks. hoshi teaches me how to dance while they rest on our faces, but they keep sliding off because we’re laughing too hard. he has immaculate vibes, like the type to say “here for a good time not for a long time” but it’s an absolute lie because he’s there for both.

3. woozi – although i like to joke that he’s an evil little man, i think we could talk a lot about music and he would be very happy to teach me what he knows, and we’d spend a lot of time developing ideas and growing together.

2. vernon – he has the personality of my irl best friend, like a slightly chaotic aquarius who is horrendously hard to reach like 99% of the time. he’s the kind of guy who would try to make dinner but end up fucking it up so horribly that when i come in it’s like smoky and awful and the fire alarm is going off, so i have to air out the apartment and go get takeout and bring it home to my burned smelling apartment and eat it on the floor of the living room while binge watching a new netflix show.

1. dk – i just love the kind of joy and energy he radiates, like would be excited to do anything at all if it’s with me. would love to accompany me on any task if i just asked, like getting ice cream at 10pm and he’d know exactly what kind of flavor he’d get so it could accompany mine well when we inevitably switched halfway through the cone. saves the bottom of the cone, the chocolate tip, for me because he knows it’s my favorite.

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josiebelladonna · 1 year

Text

hi, I’m about to torture you again as we’re looking down the barrel of kinktober and i can’t stop asking “what is wrong with me?” whenever i think about it

Perform a word association exercise with the word “sex.”

Would you say that you have or have not had a strong sexual drive in your life? How does and did this level of sexual drive affect your intimate relationships?

I have had a strong sex drive… but i don’t have any idea what to do with it. I’m an obsessive person. I obsess. I have fascinations, fixations, all of it, and it’s made me a complete nerd to the point i don’t know how to talk to boys—or girls for that matter. It has made me very confused and exhausted and disappointed and isolated and widely disliked, and what’s worse is I don’t know how to stop. Plus, I’m not straight, either. Imagine the disillusionment.

What do you want me to say? That I’m a conquistador and I’ve got a long line off to the side? That I’m a ~sexual being~ (even though I still don’t know what that’s even supposed to mean?)

Growing up, I just told people I was straight because I didn’t want them to know that I’m actually not straight. But… I do love men, though. I really love men, actually. I think men are absolutely gorgeous and decadent and sexy. Hell, I have a crush on a man right now. But I also love women, and nonbinary people. I landed on pansexual. It’s good to know that there’s a name for it, but I still have so much shame and anxiety and frustration about it. I can’t picture myself with someone, no matter what gender they are, out of both the fact that I’m just terrible at meeting someone and the fact that my libido scares me at times. I’m frustrated by the mere presence of my own sexuality that I don’t know what to do with it and I have disowned it. It’s not mine and it never was mine to begin with. I want you to make fun of it because I know it’s stupid. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings by pointing and laughing, if anything I expect it. “It’s natural, enjoy yourself!” If it’s so fucking natural, why does no one care about it?

What struggles have you had with your sexuality?

All of them, but especially comfort. I just keep hitting my head against the wall with these stupid, cringe questions in the hope that they should be helping me but they only make me feel worse because I just remember how much of a fool I am. I vent but I find no way out of it. The suggested way out of it is so hackneyed that I don’t even want to bother trying it. There has to be a better way.

I feel so much shame about my sexuality that I find it hard to even so much as move some days. It’s a dead weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe. I don’t think about it all the time because a.) I have absolutely no reason to; b.) whenever I do, I get angry about it; and c.) it’s just not worth the time or effort. I get no questions or interest in this part of me anyway, so why bother? And whenever I do, it’s always presumptuous. Everyone always thought I was seeing someone and they were shocked when I said I was single. “Really?! You’re SINGLE? In this era?!!?” Yes, I say with a straight face. “WHY?!” I just. Am. I can’t explain it, and I don’t know how to explain it, either.

Now I get absolutely nothing. I’m not saying I miss being interrogated like that—and the day I do is the day we’re all fucked—but why should I even bother putting inventory in something that no one cares about and I find unpleasant to talk about on top of that. It’s unpleasant. My sexuality is unpleasant. Not an iota of good feelings or memories to be found here. No, it’s all shit. It’s all garbage.

Another struggle is labeling it. OH GOD THIS. That whole phase I went through in 2021-2022 consisted of nothing but this. It always felt like I had a gun to my head, too, like I was supposed to figure out a label and right now. They’ll tell you to take your time with it and, believe me I did. But when you’re changing labels like people change their socks, and you’re surrounded by people who are just soooo comfortable in their fucking precious sexuality, it becomes a tall order really quick. The impression I got was one of “ugh, she’s still questioning her sexuality? what a loser.”

In what ways do you nurture your personal sense of sexuality, and/or sexual relationships?

I have no relationship. Never have, never will, either. I guess I just have too many biases about sex and sexuality, and I don’t know how to undo them, either. I don’t know how to nurture my sexuality, if anything I just leave it to waste. I don’t care about it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to care about it.

I guess… I draw. I write. …I live on a mountain top, 20 minutes away from a trump bastion. I have no options.

I like jewel tones. I like black and white. I like stuff that’s form-fitting and also low-slung jeans: I do not like anything high-waisted unless it’s worn with crop tops, otherwise I hate it. I don’t get why everyone clutches at themselves at the mere mention of anything low-rise. I like denim and leather and silk and velvet and corduroy. I like stuff that’s low cut—leftover from being heavy and struggling with weight most of my life as I’ve tried to wear T-shirts and the collar always feels like it’s choking me. I like camisoles. I like pajamas. I like underwear: as much as I cringe at the thought of wearing lingerie, I do like just wearing a bra, and I do have a teddy in my closet. I like to wear jeans: I have never felt good in a dress before. I dunno, I find dresses a bitch to walk around in and sit in, and I hate how skirts always wants to blow up (I’ve lived in windy areas my whole life). After a shower, I let my hair hang down for a few hours before I brush it: if I haven’t showered in a few days, I comb my bangs up into this pompadour upon my head so I have this Elvis/Dennis Miller thing going until I feel like climbing into the shower for another round. My mom says I look like I came from the beach, but I feel more Dennis Miller than anything. Only makeup I have is chapstick and nail polish: when I was little, I’d put on lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara but I always look over made. “You’d be so much prettier, though!” Heh, nope. Even just a little bit makes me look like I just walked out of the circus.

Is all of this supposed to make me feel sexy? I dunno, I genuinely don’t understand how it’s supposed to play into sexuality.

Nope, sorry, I can’t touch myself and feel an ounce of pleasure. I touch my lips and my breasts, and I just… I can’t do it. I’m having a hard time seeing pleasuring myself as an art, too—I don’t know, it’s just hard to put my head around it. What’s artful about sticking my finger up my clit to stimulate myself even though I know I won’t enjoy it?

My body? What about it? It was very skinny, it got very overweight, and now it’s losing weight. Any questions?

Write about your first sexual experiences. Interpret sexual experience any way like, even it’s about you first kiss.

And yeah, naturally, I got caught.

Write about your last sexual experience. How was it different from your first sexual experience?

I guess this could be the last time I touched myself: I was standing up and had my underwear on that time (just to play around a bit). Did very little but then I moved to my nipples and I was starting to go nuts a bit. I also tried between the legs again naked, with a shower head, and that really did something. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve gotten a lot more sensitive as I’ve gotten older.

I don’t remember when this was, either, that’s how indifferent I am to sex.

What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you needed to know?

I was also bombarded by these messages of “don’t be promiscuous or a slut, don’t get a reputation, no one will want you otherwise” and it was always in junction with being ladylike, too. Level up and always be ladylike or no one will love you (I hate how gen z has adopted this ideology, too. Really, nevermind me for a second: you cannot convince me that this current generation is healthy when they exhibit some of the most inhibitory behaviors ever. And the Barbie movie isn’t helping, either; if anything, that obnoxious eyesore has turned everything into a complete bitch fest overnight. The issue is not misogyny but taking that fucking movie way too seriously). I also heard bullshit like “if you have sex, you WILL get pregnant, FACT.” (i.e., the whole “men force abortion on women” thing that pro-life feminists claim is science fiction to me)

I was also always told “if you have sex, you’ll contract a disease, guarantee it”. I just think of Soundgarden’s song “HIV Baby” whenever I think about this: have sex, give birth to a child riddled with disease as punishment for not keeping your legs closed.

Cue the nausea whenever someone asks me about some sex life that I allegedly have because apparently fucking everyone has a fucking sex life and yet nobody told me *facepalm*

How has your views of sex changed over time?

It’s just this thing that people like to make a huge deal about and I can’t bring myself to it. I’m too tired. I’ve given up on the whole sex thing. It doesn’t help that it genuinely triggers me, too. I don’t care about sex and sexuality and I’m too squeamish to boot.

There’s so much lingo about sex that I just don’t get, either. “Reclaim your sexuality” implies that it fell out of you at some point: you never lose it, it’s always with you no matter how shit and lame it is. “Sexual being”, I hate this phrase simply because it’s one of those things that everyone says but no one explains what it’s supposed to mean. I finally discovered a thing that explains it… somewhat, but it still didn’t really explain it. It was like “it’s expressing your sexuality and doing what makes you feel beautiful! :D”, like, okay, I guess? My sexuality is broken and I don’t think I have ever felt beautiful, can you help me? “Sex life”. Yes, just assume I have a sex life even though guys aren’t interested and girls hate me and I barely touch myself.

Describe a sexual fantasy you have.

I don’t have fantasies. Well, I do but they aren’t sexual. They’re just regular old stories because real life is awful. Sometimes I’ll add a sexual flavor to them but I don’t call them sexual fantasies, though. They just… are what they are. Trust me, I’ve tried to get sexual with it and I can’t. I do kinktober and kinkmas, I try to get things moving, but on my own, I’m left out in the cold.

Turn a sexual experience into a piece of short fiction. Describe the setting. Use dialogue. Write erotic description.

When you’re so inexperienced that even this feels in vain.

Write about the best sex partner you have ever been with. Describe a special time together.

She had five fingers, all without polish on the nails, which were a bit short and freshly trimmed. Her skin was smooth, a little dry but smooth.

I hadn’t been touched in some time and yet, while laying in bed one morning, those fingers wandered down to my belly button for a gentle caress. When I rolled over onto my back, she worked her way down to inside my underwear for a touch. She ever so gently scratched me on the hood and it felt interesting. Neither good nor bad, but interesting. It got me thinking.

(Got really tired of saying I’m a virgin all the time)

What changes if any would you like to make about your sexual self?

All of it. I want to change all of it. This is the worst thing about me. I have felt so much shame about this fucking bullshit, that it’s a chore to even get out of bed. It’s stuck. I’m stuck with this fucking thing. No one wants me and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I hate my gender. I hate my body, and I hate my sexuality. I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, i hate it. It’s all ugly. It’s awful. It’s a disgrace. It’s horrible and disgusting. No. It’s NOT beautiful and you’re a damn fool if you think otherwise. I want it all changed and taken from me so I don’t have to think about it anymore.

I am NOT a “sexual being” and I hate that phrase with a passion. No. NEVER. Fuck off with that.

I really truly genuinely do not care about sex. Why should I? Everything that pertains to my sexuality has been roundly rejected my entire life, what’s going to change the second I do? I’ll just ~magically~ get everything desirable, like all that aches me is just going to automatically disappear? Oh, yeah, that’s realistic. That’s totally what is going to happen. It’s delusional to assume that everything will automatically be right as rain the second I start to care. It’s irresponsible, too.

But at the same time, I have had my boundaries disrespected by… everyone. Everyone apparently thinks it’s okay to invalidate my feelings and my choices, and that it’s okay to make fun of me when I change my mind and think it over again.

Take my whole issue with makeup: I literally hate wearing it, and girls often asked me why I don’t wear it. “I just don’t,” and also “I don’t like the way it feels on my skin”. Cue the “there’s natural makeup” and the “you’d look so much prettier with it”. I GAVE YOU A FUCKING ANSWER. I DON’T WANT TO WEAR IT EVER.

I have no control over this. None. I don’t know how to gain control, either. I have named my problems. I have gone through my history over and over again to dizzying degrees to see if there was any sexual abuse in my life and there wasn’t. I feel like I’m missing something here, like I’ve read on how to “reclaim sexuality”, a phrase which on its own already annoys me just from how loosely it gets thrown around, and… nothing. None of it works.

I’m not only lost but I don’t care enough about it.

Write a sexual confession to your partner or someone you admire. Be straight forward or as kinky as you would like.

This took me a couple of days to formulate and figure out. Last time i did this for you, i was a volcano. I know it stirred you—if it got me, I just imagine how you feel. I’m sorry if it upset you at all—I know it did me. And I still feel ashamed of myself when I think about you. I’m a broken bitch, Alex, straight out of the school of hard knocks. Life just keeps beating me up and I gave up trying to fight back a long time ago. I’m damaged goods. I’m completely unlovable. I’m trash. I’m ugly. I’m not sexy or hot, and I don’t understand why those words would ever come my way, either. I feel bad for feeling the way that I do about you, and also… you know, her. I still can’t say her name without wanting to gag. I’m honestly baffled by what you see in her—believe me, I tried. But I can’t do it. “Always go with your gut” after all.

I’m sorry ahead of time. I’m an asshole. In fact, when I wrote about her initially, I felt like an asshole.

And yes, I feel guilty for having a crush on you, especially now. The stupid sexist taboo that’s in vogue right now, that I’m not allowed to like boys. And I just don’t like her. It’s the whole thing of meeting someone and you cannot explain it, but you just want to avoid them at all costs because something about them just unnerves you to no end. I see her name in junction with yours and I want to puke. I’ve crushed on other guys before who were taken and I wound up crushing on the girl, too, so please don’t think it’s out of jealousy. I still think she’s secretly gay, too, and again, it’s hard to fully explain. It also just feels wrong, too, like… you’re way over there and I’m way over here. It’s not like we can actually do anything in person. You feel so out of reach.

Plus, you grew up in the 70s and the 80s, where I came of age in the 2000s and early 2010s. It’s common, sure, but I care, and I care a lot. In fact, go ahead and say that I care too much, I’m aware so you aren’t going to hurt me.

I really wish I could tell you everything. I have so much fear around how I feel about you, and I really, really don’t know how you’ll react to this should you ever see it. I suck at this. I could push you away. You’re the first guy I’ve ever had a major crush on, and I will wait forever if that’s what it takes.

I still don’t know what to say to you, especially now: really, I feel like I’m bullshitting with you. I feel like I’m just not worth your time: there are far more women out there who are better than me, like they have degrees and they’re accomplished architects who refer to themselves as gypsies for some goddamn reason because it’s racist no matter who’s using it. But what have I done?

What is wrong with me. I’ve already said too much. I hate my desires. I hate how I feel like I’m just not doing this right and no one will tell me what it is that I’m doing wrong. I have to actually go out of my way just to fantasize about anyone, whether it’s you or someone else. I already feel like I’m in trouble for even thinking about you. I am so at odds with my sexuality that I don’t want it: I’ve often said that if I could rip it out of me and light it on fire then I would do it in a heartbeat.

But you’re everything that I’ve secretly dreamed of but was too afraid to share with anyone else, everything I love in another person, and if I’m being honest, you don’t even seem real because you really are that perfect to me. I know you aren’t perfect, but you are to me, though. And like I said, I hate that I feel this way. I seriously wish I could just leave you alone, and I wish I wasn’t such a loser or that I’m imposing or obviously unimportant.

Okay? I’m a loser. A fucking gentile loser. I’m a fucking mess, a waste, a lost cause, a nobody, and I can tell you’re far more interested in her because you’ve been together longer and I’m just some weird girl who came along who’s afraid of voicing her true feelings, especially to boys. I’m afraid. I’m a prude. I’m a pussy. I don’t have any idea what I could give to you. Besides, you would rather enjoy someone who’s more powerful than a heartbroken spineless lunatic like myself, I get it. I was never anyone’s type, anyway—it’s like what Sheryl Crow says, “I’m not the kind of girl you take home.” She was there for you when your mom was sick, and I was thousands of miles away because I just am, I get it. She makes you happy, even though i can see in your eyes that you aren’t. There’s obviously no one else for you.

I get it.

I get it. We all get it, so you can stop tagging her in every other post because that totally doesn’t give off the same vibes as someone who won’t shut the hell up about their relationship. I’m an idiot and a fool for having feelings for you, let alone feelings for a guy who is worlds apart from me. I’m nothing. I don’t compare to her. I have absolutely nothing on her. I do nothing for you. Nothing compares to the “great one”. She makes your dreams come true. I get it. We all get it.

Leave my body, heart, and soul all to waste and hope the next bastard who comes along is crazy enough to pick me up like I’m roadkill. You’ll be holding your breath until you collapse, though. I’m just not desirable by any means.

But I can’t leave you alone. I’m in love, and I’m brushing away tears writing this, too. I wish I could let you go—“if you love something, let it go”—and maybe I’m just too immature for that and for you; I have no experience with this, I don’t know how to “let go of someone if I love them”. It’s how I feel, Alex. It’s how I feel.

And… I have this persistent feeling that it doesn’t… ahem. “matter.”

What would you like to learn about your sexual self?

I have the worst luck with relationships—I really mean it: I didn’t start getting looks until a couple of years ago, NO ONE looked at me and I never believed it when someone told me about that boy checking me out (there never was any boy). I have never been asked out, only fixed up and spent a weekend with a friend that was jokingly treated as a date. I HATE my sexuality, and overall, I’m terrible with this. What is there to learn here? Why am I bad at this? I can tell you that without even thinking twice about it: no one ever encouraged me. I grew up with the most backwards views on sexuality and there’s no end in sight even as I’ve grown up. I’m not good at this, plus it doesn’t matter.

I don’t think about sex, period. I barely masturbate—I don’t even remember the last time I did it. I don’t think about my sexuality because every time I do, I spiral and I get depressed again. I’ve resigned from ever thinking about it. I don’t care about it. I actually don’t even see the point of caring about it: I live in the middle of nowhere and there’s no way out. No one here piques my curiosity. Plus, if I start caring right now, what’s going to happen? Suitors are just going to automatically fall out of the sky and tempt me and motivate me to leave? That’s so delusional. And it’s irresponsible, like yeah, just assume I’m going to boogie out of here with the next meat puppet and leave my disabled mother here alone atop this godforsaken mountain, how stupid are you.

I’m done trying to seek help, too, because it’s always the same bullshit I’ve seen and heard for nine years when I began recovery from anorexia. If it’s so tried and true, then why am I still in agony? “Maybe you’re just not trying it.” Maybe this one-size-fits-all approach just doesn’t work?! Have you thought of that? No, you haven’t thought about anything.

What part of your sexuality seems the most mysterious to you?

Those lesbian thoughts I keep having. Even with as much as I love men, I can’t help but feel aroused by women as well.

Why do I love men, like men are the most despised beings on earth right now, how fucking dare I be attracted to them.

And also why I keep coming back to this. Why did I keep my incredibly high sex drive under wraps when sexual energy is incredibly powerful. What is wrong with me.

Why am I afraid of it. Is this just regular ol anxiety or is this something more serious.

The shame. Why is there shame. Why did you make this. How is this even possible.

When you hesitate to write something, what reminder can you give yourself to be as completely honest as you can, both factually and emotionally?

“I’m the only one here.”

What, if anything, about sex distresses you?

I worry about falling ill, too. Need I say more.

My poor stomach has been through a lot, too: I worry about having to run to the bathroom.

The pervasive feeling that i’ll never have it, either. I’m a virgin at 30. Most 30 year olds have had it several times, i’m lucky to have some rando on the street even look at me.

I just don’t like talking about sex, either. People are so comfortable talking about sex and all things sex and I’m usually thinking about a million different other things. I genuinely cringe when I even think of talking about anything sexual. I’m just not comfortable. I hate this side of life.

What change would you like to make in your sexual behavior?

I don’t know how to be sexy, like I’m genuinely surprised when someone tells me something I did was hot. Worse, I don’t know if they’re saying that just because or if it’s sincere.

What change would you like to make in your sexual attitudes or thoughts?

I almost never have sexual thoughts: the only time I do is when I’m writing (now you know why I thought I was asexual for a time. I genuinely don’t have sexual thoughts unless prompted). No, I don’t like them. I don’t want sexual thoughts.

As for attitudes… you want the truth? What does sex mean to me? You want to know what sex means to me? It doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s just a thing that happens. On a regular basis, I don’t think about it at all because I have no one to share with. No one is attracted to me, I get nothing out of it, and I simply don’t “get some”, either, so why should I bother?

What change would you like to make in your sexual emotions or feelings?

Same story there. I actually don’t want sexual feelings. I feel bad for having these feelings, too, like I said in my stupid little one-sided confession up above. I feel like there’s something wrong with me. There’s something wrong with me… for being attracted to men, like I’m so ashamed of this. I’m attracted to men and I feel bad about it.

What memories came to mind from the previous questions?

Oh, fucking hell, let’s see… crying about feeling lost and being treated to insensitive comments telling me to “exude confidence” and accusing me of being an alcoholic (when I can easily tell you that I’m not; I’m obsessive but I don’t “medicate” myself) rather than be a shoulder to cry on and tell me I’m not wrong for feeling this way.

All the times I was asked “why do you do this?” and I’d give a legit answer and then they would respond with unsolicited advice or opinions. Everyone wonders why I refrain from giving an opinion, too.

The phrase “raunchy side” *shudders* and feeling incredibly powerless.

Really, all the times I showed any emotion and no one knew how to react… or worse, they wouldn’t leave me alone to the point of harassing me.

Nothing good or happy.

What do you like most about your current partner? Least?

I’m a virgin.

Make three (or more) sexual wishes. Don't hold back!

I wish I could talk about this freely. I wish I was hot. I wish I was accepted. I wish I belonged. I wish I didn’t have to worry. I wish I couldn’t feel hysterical laughter whenever I say I’m a virgin. I wish I didn’t have a sexuality. I wish I could crush normally. I wish I had power and prowess and agency.

Make a list of your sexual partners and write a few phrases to describe the relationship. What patterns do you see?

After years of research, I finally came to the perfect scientific conclusion: I’m a virgin and I’m lucky to have anyone even look at me.

If you have a sexual partner now, write about this relationship. What works for you in this sexual relationship? What would you like to change?

Describe what your ideal sexual relationship would look like today.

I guess I’m not interested in sex, and there have only been a handful of times in my life where I actually was interested. Why should I be interested in something that depresses me and makes me anxious when I think about it? Sex is stupid and overrated and I genuinely don’t understand it.

If you have been sexually dissatisfied, what has kept you in the relationship?

Doesn’t apply.

Are you able to ask your partner for what you want sexually? How do you do that?

If you have difficulty asking for what you want, what are you telling yourself that makes asking difficult?

“They won’t care. They’re gonna laugh at me and reject me. They’re going to get angry with me. This is stupid and gross and crass and we all know it. Why do I even bother.”

What are your sexual limits with your partner?

I don’t want to be filled with cream. No, I’m completely turned off at the thought of being pregnant. I’m almost mortified by it, actually: use a condom or pull out, or let’s use our hands or mouths.

I like a little pain… not too much, though. I like little nibbles or scratches down the back, or spanking.

None of that “daddy” nonsense, either.

Don’t ever call me your “partner”, either, i fucking hate that word. I hate how normie it is, I hate how everyone uses it including couples who have been together a long time… I want to know when it was normalized because it’s so sterile and cold and influencer-y. Call me that and I’ll straight up leave. “But nonbinary people use it”, that, I understand completely, barring it’s implied that someone in the couple isn’t cishet. But I can’t tell just by looking at you. Trust me, I learned the hard way on that. I have so much baggage with “partner” that writing it just leaves a weird taste in my mouth,

I also don’t care about sex, either. I could not do it for the rest of my life and I’d be fine with that. Not that I can imagine anyone wanting it with me, anyway. Or maybe I do actually care, given I’m of the belief that if you bothered to say you don’t care, you actually might, and you actually might a lot.

What sexual behavior won't you do or would do only under certain conditions? Write about those to clarify your boundaries.

(see the tidbit with pain) Please don’t overdo it. My body is actually very sensitive and too much pain is too much.

As repulsed as I am by the idea of having penetrative sex, if there’s protection involved, there’s a small part of me that actually might reconsider.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BE PATIENT WITH ME. I’M DUMB AND TRAUMATIZED, I DON’T KNOW WHAT I AM DOING.

I don’t like it too rough: I’m slow and sensual for the most part, but a little quickness goes a long way if I think about it.

No period sex, please. I don’t know, just… b l o o d on the good sheets or nice upholstery, and my own, no less. I’m a primadonna that way.

In what way might your relationship with your partner deepen or improve by talking openly about sex?

Hang-ups about… noonewantingtobeinarelationshipwithme aside, I feel like an open conversation could help. For me, it’s a “make or break” type thing: if they aren’t comfortable with it, they probably aren’t for you. If they’re curious, but they’re like me and they aren’t comfortable at all with this stuff, or they’re not sure, or they’re so uncomfortable to the point they hate their sexuality, make them feel safe. Put your arm around them and help them because it’s very daunting, especially when you see they’re alone because everyone is either disrespectful and patronizing or “too busy”. Make it make sense for them.

Can you recall your first discovery of sexual fantasy? What was it about?

All I know is I was very young and I didn’t understand what was happening, either. I have to actually force myself to fantasize, too.

Write out three of your favorite sexual fantasies. If this is new to you, make one up now.

So I typed “sexual fantasy” into Google to give me some insight because I’m a fucking idiot with this sort of thing and…

Oh, god. I went to that first link to women’s health. First off, the fucking slang in that article. No one—NO ONE—over the age of 25 or with more than 3 brain cells should EVER call their spouse “their boo” and even in the mid-twenties, it sounds weird and kind of creepy? Like… do I just not get it or something? Am I missing something here? This shit is so cringey and made me roll my eyes about six times—really, I counted. How is any of this normal? Kicking off a ~sexy article~ with a fucking CARTOON ORGASM is sexually stimulating? This is torture.

Second, I read through the points and… okay, fine. I have worked with fantasy before, and I thought I hadn’t a shred of sexual fantasy before. Seasons Grey is pure fantasy, with the whole teacher-student trope at the core. Love Is Not Enough is fantasy, with the strippers at the root. All my kinktober one shots are fantasies. Hell, you know what, any fics that come out of me have a fantasy inside of them: I just wasn’t really aware of it.

How have you used your sexual fantasies up until now?

Haven’t, at least not outside of writing. I hate how this assumes that I can, too.

What began as a fantasy that you later took into action?

The time I told Alex I’m in love with his voice. It was way before I wrote voice kink one shot in eclipse, too. That one in particular was admittedly fun to write—kind of tricky, but fun, though.

What sexual fantasies work the best to arouse you?

I’m bullshitting, I don’t think I can use any of them to really get me off. I’m trying really hard here,

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a friend? What was the reaction?

…it’s pretty across the board.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a lover? What was the reaction?

I don’t know if I could be courageous enough to do that.

How important is it for you to share your sexual fantasies? What are your reasons for sharing or not? Does sharing fantasies break their "spell"?

You know that fanfic meme that talks about writing your dream fanfic filled with all your fantasies and dreams but choosing not to and keeping it locked away in your mind because you want it to yourself? Yeah, I don’t relate to that at all—then again , i don’t relate to fanfic memes, period (“oh, I should be writing but I’m on tumblr hur hur”, get a life, all of you). I write them out because I want to make sense of them for the most part. I honestly don’t care if no one sees them, either, because I’ve never really seen them as all that mystifying: just these weird little scenes that roll around inside me. I literally don’t care, they’re stupid and pointless and painfully unsexy.

What, if anything, do you find distressing about your sexual thoughts or fantasies? Write about that to clarify it for yourself.

On their own, I don’t think they’re special or gossip-worthy or revolutionary or life-changing. They just… are what they are.

But just the fact they exist distresses me. Why do I feel this way? Why am I doing this? This isn’t normal. Everyone is judging me and mocking me.

If you could say three things to the world about the nature of your personal sexuality and really be heard, understood, and accepted, what would you say?

This is complicated and I’m trying really hard. Sometimes I think I’m making this too complicated even for myself.

My sexuality is a curse, a death sentence, and I hate it so much. I don’t want to be seen but I also do.

Admit it. There’s no room for me. *sigh* I knew it. It doesn’t matter.

When was the first time you experienced feelings of arousal and what triggered those feelings? What did you think of it at the time? What was your emotional response to those feelings?

Like I said, I was very small. May have been from me sitting in front of the mirror and touching myself, I have no clue. I didn’t understand what was happening, either, or why the adults in the room freaked the fuck out over it, either.

Consider a moment in your life of great sensuality, eroticism, or sexuality. Then answer the questions that Mary Oliver does in her poem “Gratitude” as they apply to that moment.

So I’ve been thinking about this all day and… I literally never had a moment of ~great sexuality or eroticism~ Fleeting moments, but nothing earth-shaking, though. Even the time I cybered wasn’t that great.

As for meaning, I’m not sure. I don’t know how to feel about it, either. I don’t even know if it counts as an encounter, either, but it’s all I got.

Who was your first romantic, sexual partner? What about him or her appealed most to you? What did you hope would happen with that relationship?

Aside from the above, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had a girlfriend. Almost 30 years old and I have never even been kissed. I got sick and tired of hearing “oh, you’ll find love some day” when I was 17, and now I know in my heart it won’t ever happen. Really, I could shed 100 pounds and have confidence through the fucking roof and no one will want any of this. Whoever said “everyone has sex” has obviously never met me. It’s so exploitative, too: this unfair assumption that way too many people have had about me and it only makes me hate myself. (Why is that always the response to someone saying they’re single, too? It’s like, i’m just stating a fact, I didn’t ask for you to be fortune teller.)

Do you believe that sex and emotional intimacy are linked, or is it possible to have a sexual relationship without emotional attachment? What experiences influence your answer?

Linked but not exclusive, though. There is a link there but the two can exist without each other. Casual sex is a thing, plus you can be emotionally attached but not want it; don’t believe everything you see on Twitter (especially now, fucking hell).

Just… my own observations about this. I thought I was asexual and, even though I’m not, I did learn this along the way.

If you could have the perfect sex life right now, what would that look like?

The idea of me having a sex life, period, is so beyond me, like I don’t know what it’s even supposed to encapsulate. I ask Google “what’s a sex life?” because I don’t know what it’s supposed to be.

How do you define “awesome” sex (i.e. what makes sex better than good)?

Makes me think of “awesome sauce”, which completely sucks the eroticism out of this. I don’t know?! What even quantifies as “good sex” anyways?

How do you feel about PDA? (You can take this as far as “kinks in public,” too.)

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand seeing it, can’t stand the thought of it happening to me (insecurity and hang-ups might have something to do with that when I think about it), some things are just better left in private. As for kinks in public, though? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.

What do you think about when you masturbate?

I don’t even remember the I last time did, so I can’t say.

What are your sure-fire turn-ons (and/or turn-offs)?

Turn-ons: touches, really all over my body. I like soft touch. I like being held. I like fantasy. I like intelligence. I like sweetness. I’m all about feeling and being close. I guess? I’m not going to give everything away, either, because it’s… stupid.

What are your thoughts about porn?

I still don’t see it as exploitative. One complaint I do have with it is unrealistic expectations. No guy is like that. No girl is like that.

What are your thoughts on foreplay? Favorite types? Best experiences? Wishes?

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to? (If you don’t currently have a lover, feel free to consider past or future lovers.)

“Lover” is another pathetically overused word. My eyes have always wandered to the middle of the body. I don’t care if it’s slim and delicate or round and thick, either, I like to feel and hold.

If you were to “recreate” the early days of your favorite sexy relationship, what would they look like? Would you change anything?

The beauty of it being online is it’s kind of the whole entire point to it.

Really, if Alex and I take it offline, we lose the clandestine nature of watching each other on stories or him fanboying over me like he’s a teenage kid again. I just have this pervasive feeling that *sigh* she has some control over his instagram now. He doesn’t come online nearly as much anymore and he feels so elusive now.

What do you want more of in your sex life?

I feel so bored by sex. Bored and repulsed at the same time. I have so much shame that ruminating on it makes me physically sick, and I feel stuck with it. I feel like I’m boring and underwhelming, like you would think that someone who identifies as pansexual and polyamorous and has a high sex drive would have at least one conquest but… I’ve just never been respected or built up or even seen. Plus, there’s this whole thing about how women are not supposed to chase, either.

Would you ever visit a sex therapist? What would be the reason and what do you think their advice would be for you?

Sign me up.

Why do I have a sexuality in the first place.

They’re probably going to give me some of the same old shit I see when I ask Google, so no, I take that back, I want my money back.

Is there anything about sex that embarrasses you, causes shame or fear, or makes you nervous? Or…what’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you during sex?

My fear of pregnancy and disease plus I worry about shitting myself.

Talking about it makes me so nervous, too. I HATE what I desire and think about and all of that. I keep saying it over and over and over and over again, none of it matters and I feel weird and gross talking about what and who I’m attracted to. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel like this? WHY DO I HAVE A SEXUALITY!

Yes, the whole suggestion of even having a sexuality brings me titanic pains. Why do I have this WHY DO I HAVE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

I hate my sexuality so much that it makes me cry. I hate it. I hate it so much.

What do you tend to fantasize or dream about when it comes to sex? What kinds of porn or kink are you drawn to?

I have to force myself to fantasize. I don’t watch porn (I don’t, and why would I? So, don’t even think about it). I write about kinks and… whatever. I had a sex dream one time. I don’t even remember what it was about now.

If you were to create a sexy playlist intended for a hot date at home, what would be on it?

I have never made a sexy playlist in my life so I wouldn’t know where to start. This is another thing I have to look up because I don’t know any sexy songs offhand.

What are your love languages and how do they apply to your sexual needs? What about your lover?

I’m all about touch and spending time. I am touch-starved and I have all the time in the world.

My what? My needs? What sexual needs?

How do you feel about being naked?

What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

Do you have any trust issues surrounding sex or your sexual relationship(s)?

Do you ever see something that, for whatever reason, you have this inexplicable feeling of drunkenness? That’s my reaction to this. I have nothing but trust issues surrounding sex. I have so many taboos and hang ups about it that I feel them choking me.

What do you look like, and sound like, when sex feels good for you?

What is the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Flirted with Eric on stories (I called him “big guy”) and got him to take a selfie from the toilet. Wish I was making that up.

I asked “are we going to see a Jeff Becerra OnlyFans any time soon?” and mf literally replied with “only if the price is right” and the eggplant emoji.

Any time I post risqué art on instagram because they’re assholes with that sort of thing. No clue how threads’ll react to it.

When now it’s dark was being written and I posted those ink drawings on instagram (completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me).

There was also one time in school one of my friends had his pants hanging down a bit and I tried to pants him and he caught me. I did get to pinch his butt when no one was looking, though.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

Thought I knew before but now I don’t. I don’t know what this means.

Have you ever had sex in a public place?

WHYYYYYYYYYYY would I do this?

When and how did you lose your virginity, and how did you feel about it? How do you feel about it now?

I’ll probably die a virgin.

Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time, watched others have sex, been watched? If not, would you?

I think I’m polyamorous so I’d definitely try it. As for voyeurism… maybe I’d like to be watched? Don’t know about watching others, though.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

I go for long stretches of time without doing it, because I get bored with it. I’ve done it sitting down, standing up, on my back, stooped over, topless, with my pants on, in the shower, in bed… all with my fingers. I have no desire to use a toy. I’m sorry, I’m not aroused by putting a piece of glass or ceramic or rubber up a very delicate part of my body.

Maybe I’m not doing it right because I have done it but I barely get off at all, and I’m more disgusted with myself than anything. I lose interest after a couple of minutes. Yeah, I don’t see this going well with another person.

What are you most grateful or thankful for in your sex life?

Oh, yeah, i’m totally grateful for something that brings me so much shame that it makes my chest hurt and makes it hard to even get out of bed some days. Oh, yeah, totally grateful for the judgements, the dirty looks, the snickers, the condescension, the guilt, the horrible feelings where there should be pleasure and confidence, what have you.

What is your favorite sexual position, and why?

Officially don’t know anymore.

Have you ever had an “inappropriate” crush? What was it about that person that drew you in, and what made it “not okay”?

All my crushes have been inappropriate lol

They all have been either older, or unavailable in some way like already taken or not interested.

I was never drawn to people at my school, so I looked beyond the borders: older people fit that bill for me.

Have you (or would you) ever tried role play? What roles are you drawn to?

Well, I officially don’t care anymore.

Are you more dominant or submissive (or a bit of both)?

Both. Yes, even with as much as I hate the female role and find it restrictive, there’s a sub in me.

How do you feel about your own body?

This body is… I don’t know. Parents called me beautiful but if my piss-poor track record with my peers and crushes and this whole thing here is anything to go by… it should be clear that I have trouble seeing this myself. I’m not good-looking. I only started actually getting hit on very recently, and looking at my appearance when I was a teenager, I did not look good at all. It makes sense that no one ever made a pass on me.

You know, I’ve posted pictures of myself online before and I have literally gotten blocked for it. They weren’t anything risqué, either, they were just… my face. Or me in a t-shirt or a camisole because I like wearing those. But I see people who are *okay looking* (like I could see them on the street willy-nilly but they won’t make me turn my head) get hundreds of likes or notes. I see people—I’m gonna catch hell for this; I have nothing to lose—who are ugly, like uglier than me, get the likes and called “beauty queens” and shit. I hope people realize just how hurtful it is, and I hope that people realize that telling me to “just be confident” in the face of that is genuinely insulting.

How sorry do you have to feel for a person having sex with you?

Sorrier than sorry. Why bother. I can’t give you pleasure or anything, anything other than tears. Just go home.

Could someone know you sexually, properly know you, and still like you?

A certain someone knows about me sexually and I not only have no idea if he likes me but it scares me to think that he likes me because I worry about… what effect I could curse him with. Really, I worry about hurting him and turning him into damaged goods with my own horse shit. and it’s not the boy I cybered with, either.

#text #journaling #personal

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