#im going to ostracize myself from humanity

[burningvelvet]

on percy shelley & human connection & coping through art

to set the mood of this post i must say i'm writing it really quickly on my phone over a bowl of pasta with bread & broccoli & some orange flavored sparkling water & im still dressed in my outdoor wintery clothes (all black, knee boots, wool, silver chains & rings, although i mostly prefer gold jewelry).

so anyway today i've been kind of sad over ppl not replying to my texts & my usual reaction is to say "ok, guess i'll kms, wah wah, cry cry" but this sort of passively cynical joking schtick has gotten old & i would rather occupy myself some other way instead of moping about failed connections or the difficulty of initiating contact with anyone or the struggles of modern socialization as a whole.

instead, i will read the works of percy shelley tonight, and think about how he struggled with all of this over 200 yrs ago. of how hard he struggled to make leigh hunt and lord byron collaborate with him on their journal the liberal, and how he struggled all his life to build a positive community even in spite of years of bullying, ostracization, and family strife - he often felt like giving up, and like human connection was impossible, but he never gave in to apathy and instead he continuously curated his ideal life by seeking out other like-minded people, even when he occasionally embarrassed himself in public or when others were decidely averse to him or lukewarm in their reception. john keats didn't entirely take to him when they met and some of keats' friends straight-up disliked percy for being weird, but percy (though scarcely knowing him) loved keats as a brother-poet nonetheless, was generous to him, wrote one of his masterpieces in his favor, and died with a copy of his poems in his pocket.

percy always reached out to others and was a loyal friend even when others disrespected him or ignored him or just simply didnt love him as much as he did them. his letters to lord byron show how reverent he was to his friend, and how his affection was never returned in quite the same gusto, but, while still trying to keep his self-respect, percy quelled his frustrations and continued his correspondence with byron regardless. percy acted as the mediator between byron and claire even when his stress was so high it weighed heavily on his health. he actively tried to choose to be positive even when the people around him were negative or miserable. like most writers back then, he sent his writing to his idols, and sought mentorship from people he admired, like william godwin and leigh hunt, and he continued to respect them even when they took advantage of him financially (moreso in godwin's case).

anyway what i mean to say is that whenever im feeling lonely or rejected or alienated or socially stupid or am just second-guessing my role in society or whatever whatever whatever, i cling to creativity/art/literature/etc. even harder than i regularly do, because thats what it exists for.

i knew a therapist (not one i saw as a patient, but someone i knew through mutual interests in media/the arts) who said that a certain musical performance we both loved probably saved way more lives than any single therapist ever has. - the performance in question was david bowie's tokyo 1990 live recording of rock n roll suicide, an anti-suicide song (its available on youtube, go watch it lol, he performs it with so much conviction).

any way even though at the end of his life shelley sometimes felt like he was failing to achieve his dream of building a utopian art commune - he actually did succeed in introducing several people to each other in ways that changed peoples lives. his friends jane williams and thomas jefferson hogg got married only through his mutual friendship. whole literary societies have been started in his honor - to this day there are conferences & whatnot that meet annually - his life & writing continues to inspire people and bring them comfort - & he would be extremely proud of that - any artist would. the main goal of any famous dead writer is basically to become the imaginary friend of their future readers & he accomplished that - even though all the time he was wracked with doubt/depression/suicidality/illness/chronic pain, etc. - as a political/philosophical radical, he realized that having hope is one of the most influential & radical things one can do - & i'm glad that, even though this is a person who died over 200 yrs ago, there is at least one person who really resonates with me - even though we're from different centuries, different continents, different sexes, etc. - it's helpful to have positive influences to look up to, especially when they've also struggled in similar ways as you. and although shelley was pretty privileged (rich englishman) he really did struggle a lot mentally & physically - his life was a chaotic mess - and he wasn't perfect at all - but i think he's still inspirational for my previously mentioned reasons - his ceaseless hope. the last poem he was working on was titled the triumph of life, even though he wrote it during a deep depression. the last poem he published in his lifetime was hellas, which he hoped would raise money for the cause of greek war of independence. from the poem:

"Life may change, but it may fly not;

Hope may vanish, but can die not;

Truth be veiled, but still it burneth;

Love repulsed, — but it returneth!"

[youremyheaven]

hi, this is my second time sending it and i pray you receive it. i'm the 22yo anon with the relationships, social dread and sexuality question. ill try my best to rewrite as quick as possible. i would like to be guided and need your big sister advise,,, i don't know how to ask and word my issues smoothly 😓😓,,, (context- ive known to be demiromantic and little to no fixation on sex, on the asexual spectrum?) so i just turned 22 and have a crush and looks like he too likes me the same and im sure its going to get serious,, i have been nervous about talking about my preferences with my crush because someday i have to explain to them because i have friends and peers around me asking me to "get some" and that it's normal and it's how it'll change my asexuality?? to them im just faking being uncomfortable around bed talk even though i agree i can be the holiest nun but i do catch myself having the highest libido therefore take care of myself without needing anyone from time to time. pleasing for me felt like an annoying itch that needed to be scratched like most people,,, corn doesn't do it for me so I never understood the hype and didn't feel a thing,,, yes I have crushes but im not aching and wanting to bang them,, a bunch of my peers have at a young age and unsafely which got one of them pregnant, being in indian society it's looked down upon and what my friend had to go through was rough and it had a huge impact,,, though my parents are forward thinking people and openly and safely talked about this topic with me without having shame tied to it and my mother also makes it a comfortable space,, im not shaming anyone who engages in activities like these and i also understand that its human nature and it's how we procreate and evolve yet i still get very uncomfortable around sexual scenes in movies maybe it's my own childhood trauma causing this feeling of dread and discomfort from my childhood,,,,

besides my friends and family, i shared my asexuality to my aunt and baby cousin,,,,, they were supportive but kept being skeptic like my peers would saying this is temporary 💀 that i need to get laid asap which bothered me sm,,, my cousin now (a party, club going personality) too has engaged in activities with her exes since she was a preteen and im the only one in the fam who knows (desi household is no joke) and im worried for her safety though she seems independent but i do feel concerned and wonder if i should let her be because she has been distant and lord knows who she is with next,,,,she's much much younger but coming from a wealthy family kinda looks down on me and for not having any relationship experiences so distanced herself from me which hurts,,, bottom line i feel ostracized to a degree by people i care about and there is this insane pressure to have to talk about my trauma and issues around sex,,, as they say it's a man's birth right and they all want it at some point and so will your crush or men will leave you the minute they get that repulsion??😓

i might consider it for my man someday but i don't want it to affect my relationship with men??

how do i face people when im not taken seriously or call it a nun phase? i don't want to lose men over this and who better than you to ask,,,, im typing and im all teared up,,, i need clarity on how to approach this better without having internalized any pain, guilt for feeling the way i do. you can answer when you're ready and sorry i made it too long 😞😣

This is my third attempt

"this is my third attempt" 😭😭😭

girlie ur not going for JEE mains 😭😭this is just my inbox

(for non desis, JEE is a highly competitive college entrance exam,, ppl prepare for it for YEARS and some ppl commit suicide when they cant crack it 🤡 explaining it is taking the fun away from the joke but thought id give u context <33)

but ANYWAYYYS

first of all dont apologize for the long ask or for sharing your experiences,, I GOTCHU 😘💛

now about your question:

one thing u need to know is that the right person will NEVER EVER make u feel "compelled" to have sex,, ive had partners during my celibate era who i didnt even kiss lol and they were entirely fine with it

pls dont listen to your friends and family and believe that sex is something you OWE your partner/men. i had many nasty friends tell me the same or try to convince me that i "should" do it bc otherwise its not a "real" relationship and im so glad i never listened to them<33

i also know many women who are waiting for marriage to have sex but have boyfriends atm. they all have different degrees of intimacy that they're okay with (some go up to oral and leave penetrative intercourse for marriage, others just kiss, makeout and cuddle) but u can also have a zero intimacy relationship. if a man wants you and wants to be with you, HE WILL DO ANYTHING. i once told a guy (he was 21 and i was 23 and he wanted to date me) that im celibate and dont want to have sex and he said "thats perfectly fine, i didnt ask you out to sleep with you, i want to be with you, whatever your terms are, thats fine by me" and honestly there are MANY such dudes out there,, not every guy is a porn addicted weirdo who believes u OWE them sex 🤮🤢🤢🤮

u dont have to have casual sex if you dont want to!! esp since you're a virgin, i think its important for you to be wise about your partner and choose someone who is considerate and caring!!! THIS IS NOT A RACE, you can have sex later in life, i assure you its nothing special if you feel "compelled" to do it/dont like your partner/dont feel comfortable.

having another person inside u is as intimate as two people can be and it is so vulnerable,, dont rush it and dont do it with someone u dont trust to take you through the experience tenderly!!!

i think you just need to drop your friends lol,, they sound unhealthy

if i dont include my r4pist, then ive had sex with 3 people (i dont actually want to include baldie tbh but 🤢🤮) and 2 of those were with a partner (1 is my current partner) and those experiences were so pleasant and wonderful<3 ive had people tell me i "should" try casual sex 🙄but its not for me and even now i tell you, i have no issues staying celibate, i think its better to just not have sex than to have dissatisfying sex ://

you wont "lose" men over sex lol, you might lose immature men but those are exactly the guys u want nothing to do with!!! its a great way to weed them out!!!

i follow a 5 date rule with sex actually. i have to like him enough to go on atleast 5 dates with him before we do anything intimate,, if he seems impatient or too eager or whatever, then cut his nasty ass out,,

(this is just general advice for anyone, i know you dont want to have sex<3)

stop telling people your personal business btw!! you dont have to share your sex life or lack thereof with all your friends bc its none of their business at the end of the day. ESPECIALLY since they dont seem to understand where youre coming from, you should stop sharing this stuff with them. this is not info that you owe them just bc ya'll are friends. i absolutely hate sharing my personal business with my "friends" and all the times i have, i absolutely regretted it. i hate that kind of interference. like YOU dont get to have an opinion about my life lol??

basically, stay private, you do you, nothing wrong with being asexual or being celibate, sex is overhyped and most men dont know how to fck (sorry to speak facts) and the right partner wont want sex from you. there are men who take care of bedridden partners. love makes anything possible. and i hope you find someone who truly genuinely loves you so that you never have to worry about any of this.

i also hope you get better friends!!!<33

wishing u the best,

Heaven<3

[boy-gender]

Being the specific type of intersex I am is really weird because in a way I sort of...didn't entirely go through puberty? I'm not on t, so my natural shape should at my age resemble a cis woman (minus the boobs, which I removed) but I just...don't. I'm taller and heavier than I was as a kid, but I feel my proportions really never changed to resemble an adult female, or any adult at all.

I got my period later than most kids, and its so irregular it basically doesn't exist without intervention. And when I had my top surgery, the tissue was biopsied (they always do this to everybody afaik) and my doctors found out that while my breasts had lots of fat because Im fat, I didn't have a typically large amount of breast tissue, and my milk ducts didn't work. They never developed. If i was to become pregnant (something Im pretty sure i cant even do), i wouldn't be able to breastfeed because my internal plumbing was sort of...petrified in a prepubescent form? it just never grew in right.

This has caused a lot of confusion and dysmorphia for me, because when i look in the mirror i genuinely feel i don't look human. i look human-ish, but wrong, like some other species tried to draw an approximate human from memory. i don't look like a man, i don't look like a woman, i don't look like a child. and coupled with a lifelong experience of being bullied for the way my body looks, i just...don't see a person in the mirror. i see like a bipedal blob fish or a bull shark. something about me is just very Other and Not Correct and even if neither i nor other people have the language to quite articulate what looks wrong or why, people notice. People tell me they notice. I notice. It's all I notice.

I don't have like some valuable life lesson to share about this at the end of the post, and no, i'm not over it either. I will probably never be comfortable looking at myself in a mirror nor will I be confident in identifying myself as a human person. I just wonder how many other intersex people out there feel the same way, because being cisgender and presenting within very narrow gendered boundaries is so ingrained in our culture that when you fail to do that, you aren't only ostracized, internally and externally, from your gender, but also from your humanity as a whole.

[bitchoftruth]

gender incoming

despite some of the reasoning being weird sora is presented as a gender neutral figure, and they reason this is both because he is an actor, and that he was forced to mature fast because of their parents constant moving around. more screenshots under the cut as it got long

essentially, his constant moving has caused him to not want to get close to boys, because they have some weird power struggle going on(??). He idealized girls because they are more accepting of the new timid transfer student.

I mean I can sort of see that, from an outsider perspective, more timid shy boys at that age definitely were a bit ostracized among the others. I guess at the least, this is true for some, though likely there are cultural differences at play here (im not american or european and i assume the majority of the readers are... so it might be different for you too i suppose)

i get the point of him idealizing girls being wrong, but we didnt need to pull out the girls are fake bitches card.... but i suppose thats the whole point of the vn. sora kun is idealizing girls but you see under extreme duress we WILL get up to evil nonsense.

so there is an obvious trans interpretation here, but since from what i understand, this is not intended to be a trans narrative at all, i wont focus on it and annoy myself further. I think there is a version of this thats like "he idealizes girls as great and kind, but they are humans with flaws just like everyone else" that would work. I wish it just didnt go into "wished he was a girl" and muddy the waters there, if thats what he is going for. Or "girls are catty and liars" either hold up the scene is going on

reiterating that grass is greener on the other side then they move on to wonder what sora is doing these days, and whether he has a girlfriend. And that if he has, he must have stopped idealizing girls.

all in all, not quite as bad as i was led to expect so far (granted, my expectations might have been on the ground), but we'll see how this progresses.

oh also doremi mentions he completely forgot about sora until just now, because shes so cool. shes probably lying but i will take it at face value

[larksheaven]

i’m sat on my desk chair in full night makeup and a cardigan waiting for my friends to cancel. i have this gnawing, aching feeling like i can predict what words will light up my screen next.

sorry, my friend doesn’t want to hang out as three. rain check? or the more subtle: hey, so sorry i don’t think we’re gonna go after all. i can picture it clearer than i can see myself now, sitting in this room. i can picture me, two minutes from now, putting my tail between my legs and going back to bed waiting for life to happen to me.

that’s fine, i’ll say. i was kinda tired anyway. long week and all.

she tells me she’s almost leaving and i still don’t believe it. i am sat in this chair with my back slouched. my nerves have been acting up all day. i had to film a mock video interview today, twice. i cried during both.

a firework goes off and i’m so on edge it feels like a gunshot. they hunt a lot of animals where i grew up. i think i always understood what the animals must feel. i’ve always believed something’s out to get me. usually because it has.

i should be checking my pizza isn’t burning but i’m just sat here thinking how i know this isn’t normal. i know that this is nurture, not nature, that my nurture was ostracism and closed doors. i don’t remember ever getting out. i think a part of me is still locked in there most days.

normal. a normal person would take rejection in stride. a normal person would not be frozen to this chair to begin with. a normal person would be excited to go out clubbing for the first time. (the fireworks are at it again. it’s like i can feel them in my spine). i’m meeting my friend, and her friend. that’s too many degrees of separation for my liking. i’m not used to this hands on stuff, i mean, clearly. here i am, not moving, waiting for a text to wake me up like some sleeper agent on standby.

i watch them in my head like it’s some movie, laughing behind my back, sending the text to cancel and going anyway. i see it later on their instagram story, they danced all night and had a blast while i curled under a heated blanket.

i started therapy again last week; she told me my avoidance was a maladaptive coping mechanism. i already knew that, but i acted a little surprised to make her feel like she was Doing Her Job Well. not that she was doing bad or anything, it’s just that when you spend enough time alone, you get to know your demons. calling them demons feels mean. maybe little ghosts is more apt.

the little ghosts look like me at different ages, and they all warn me with every turn i take. don’t get your hopes up too high. take a whole lot of photos, that way you won’t have got all made up for nothing. do it before they cancel, you don’t want sad eyes. you want to look like you did before it all went wrong.

i don’t mind these ghosts, though i wish i could talk back to them sometimes. i know they’re just trying to save me from what they couldn’t save themselves from. but im here now, in the end. and isn’t that nice? if you look at me you might almost think im a whole person.

i do wish i could stop feeling so guilty all the damn time. i think it’s self sabotage; i talk to myself like for some reason i’m not allowed to enjoy the full breadth of human experience. like i’m some stowaway in the back of a truck full of real people who are allowed to exist.

i just realised, maybe i should read all this to my therapist. third one in the bag, woo! i should get an award or something for all the times i’ve had my brain put into a test tube in front of me. i would read this to her, but i got a call a few days after my first session. bereavement. she’ll be off indefinitely. i know it’s nothing to do with me, but i find it morbidly funny. we were about to start emdr, an eye movement therapy to help me process something that happened ten years ago. we’re almost at that anniversary. i feel like i should get a cake, or a million or something. but nobody pats you on the back just for getting there. you just do.

i’ve psyched myself out so much that now i’m considering cancelling. i’m fantasising about my bed and not having to drive. my head likes to ruin things for me until it gets me to ruin them myself. i always think people will laugh at me, see. i think they’ll know that i’m naked underneath.

[writingwrittenwriting]

Growing up, I always felt like I was missing something. In multiple ways, I sensed this. But this isn't about just missing things going on around me. Very young, I began to feel as though something were missing from me. I didn't know what it was, nor did I understand the feeling for many years, but a part of me always knew this. I was made with something important missing from my soul.

I tried to act the way I thought I was supposed to. I remember always thinking I had to act a certain way, even if I did forget myself a lot when I felt caught up in the moment. Some of my earliest memories are practicing laughing, or being told I wasn't smiling right. I seemed to lack whatever part of a person was supposed to learn these aspects. It seemed to come so naturally to others, but took conscious effort for me. It was always like this.

I was roughly five when I started to really feel as though I wasn't just missing little pieces, like a puzzle at a daycare. But rather, I was missing a whole chunk of my soul. As though my body was only partially filled with the essence of humanity, and the rest was hollow. There was something deeply wrong with me, and if anyone found out... I didnt know what bad would come when I was five. No one wanted to be my friend. The other kids ran away from me and laughed at anyone who was forced to play with me. I felt stupid and alone. I began to feel that hollow filling with anger and pain. It festered inside of me, an infected cyst in my soul.

When I was seven or eight, my world was very unkind in general. At school, I would see how the "special" kids were treated. I feared I would be labeled as such and further ostracized if my inner "rot" was acknowledged by parents and teachers. I was already on thin ice with the school, I was terrible at math and became upset and angry very quickly in social situations. I would be pulled out of class for "tutoring" sessions that were just the "slowest" or more disruptive kids being removed from the classroom and put in an unused office so the "normal" kids could do their work. I wasn't "retarded", I didn't need to be kept in a "sensory" room all school day! This was back in a time where any diagnosis of mental difficulties meant being labeled as "special" and seen as a disgusting dangerous problem. I had once been targeted by a boy during recess who was known to be violent on occasion. His "aid" had pulled him away during tag after he'd become obsessed with catching me. Instead of anyone explaining the situation to me, I was instead scared by this boy screaming in a rage that he was playing tag and being good while his aid unanimously decided he was getting aggressive and dragging him away. In hindsight, he likely wanted to be friends and was hyperfocused on showing me how fast and cool he was, and got caught up in his fun. Instead of the ad creating a teachable moment for either of us, I saw a dangerous freak get hauled away. And he likely got to feel like a criminal as he was dragged to the screaming room. I didn't want to be put in the screaming room.

Around the age of ten, the evangelical influences of my rural Snow-America town dug its way into me. I didn't believe in its religion or preachings, but it certainly created an environment where I felt the importance of... Im not sure what words to use to describe the idea of a good and proper human by evangelical American standards. Their definition of humanity, I suppose? Whatever label to call it by, I didn't fit. I wasn't a retarded freak with medical issues, there shouldn't have been anything wrong with me. But my soul didn't feel right. I felt so different from humanity, I began to question if I were something else. I began to wish I were something else. It would be easier to discover I was, or to become something inhuman, than to live among humans while missing such a thing as proper human soul. Remembering the fear the child I was back then had felt over the prospect of anyone knowing how they felt... I feel so much pain for that child, and any like them, who had to grow up feeling that way.

I couldn't tell anyone about my worries. About how I felt incomplete, broken, hollow, malformed and masking it. The few times I told the adults who were supposed to care for me had always ended in punishment. I was scolded for being different. Scolded if I didn't perform well enough to hide myself. I wasn't a monster, but they would treat me as such if they ever knew. There were already times I was treated as a monster...

If I couldn't act their stupid little plays out right, I'd be punished and gossiped about. With family, in public, at school... It's no wonder that hole inside me continued to fill with anger. It was filled with years of resentment, jealousy, fear, pain, and a loneliness that will never leave me as long as I live. I was born with a hole in my soul to hold the wonders the world could pour into me, but I was unfortunate. The little world I was born into filled that hole with nasty things. With uncertainty and doubt. With fear, despair, self loathing, and anger. Where I was meant to learn love, I learned I was a burden.

So if you feel like you're hiding a twisted horrible secret inside. That there's a darkness you cant let anyone see. You might be like me. You might be an Autistic or otherwise neurodivergent individual who was neglected and/or abused. That darkness inside of you, you weren't born with. It was put inside you by unpleasant people. Unfortunately it's a part of you now, but its only a part. It's not you. It's not in control of you. Think of it as a weird benign tumour that occasionally makes it hard to take a shit. Its annoying and you hate it, getting rid of it isn't easy because insurance and medical care is a nightmare. If you're close enough with a friend to tell them you're going to be in the washroom at the bar for 30 minutes cus your ass tumour decided shits going sideways right fucking now, well the friendship is strong enough to handle the truth. The darkness inside you always comes from somewhere, and it doesn't define you. How you handle that darkness it up to you, but if you can trust someone enough to discuss mental health stuff, they're most likely going to stick around.

And if they dont stay? If they freak out and say you're weird and dangerous and that your feeings are not normal? You don't need or want them as a friend. They're either hiding their own darkness, denying their own darkness, or brainwashed by a rural North-American evangelical cult. If its the last one, run far and run fast. They will rationalize anything and its scarier than your dark twisted secret evil ass tumour.

you ever feel like you were born with something rotten inside you and if people get close enough they’re gonna find out

[werewolf-femboy-maid]

I rarely feel this alone its probably because I didn't eat anything all day and because I didn't drink water all day and because my bf yelled at me again this morning for complaining o r not listening or something and because I have bpd and because I felt ostracized at my university and because I failed my classes and because I don't wanna be part of that bs propaganda statistic that weed enjoyers do not do well in college and drop out because that is only part of the problem weed can make people distracted and "lazy" for sure but that applies with pretty much any other legal "drug" or other form of entertainment, and I also feel alone because I did bad at school because I live in like two different places and still don't have a car or drivers license IN TEXAS and also because I am constantly scared all the time of everything and also because everything is exhausting and also because I have been needing to do my laundry for months now and also because I have adhd and have been undiagnosed my entire life until like 2 years ago and also because I feel like everyone hates me and no one will ever like me for the dysfunctional angry abusive disgusting incompetent useless and stupid person I really am and I am a literal burden to everyone that has ever interacted with me and also because I hate everyone and also because I want to be perfect and amazing all the time and solve everyone's problems so we can all be friends and no one ever thinks im weird or yells at me or hates me or tells me to do shit ever ever ever again and also because I am living in America and also because there is an entire population of people being erased and its happening in front of our eyes and all the awareness is great but im really scared nothings helping I guess I should donate after this or at least spread some more awareness idk

I hate that I havre so much to complain about when im literally living some peoples dream. I cant believe these opportunities were wasted on me. it should've been someone else that went to school and got the degree instead of dissapointing everyone and being an awkward outcast in the classroom.

im literally making this about myself I don't know how I can be so selfish. my bf gives me shit all the time about how I complain too much and look for problems instead of solutions, which I understand but he seemed very skeptical when I say that conflict is an addiction in some cases especially traumatized kids (me)

im so hurting guys im in so much pain ive been in pain a lot of my life, like not a lot a lot but a fair amount for sure

ive been running on between 15% ~ 5% battery for the past 6+ years I don't know how much time I have left

and don't even get me started on the health concerns I be smoking and vaping (vaping isn't nearly as often tho) and omg I just saw that kurzegazxt (idk how to spell them) video about smoking lmfao

I feel like according to everyone ive ever interacted with, I am either trying too hard (stressing about overly specific schedules) or not trying hard enough (snapping and or having a meltdown "on purpose")

everyone wants something from me and even when they don't want anything I am suffocated by my thoughts telling me Im not doing enough for them I am so exhausted and scared and sad this world is such an evil and rotten place sometimes I am so scared for the fate of humanity we are so screwed and hopeless (ok not really but this is my mindset rn and its MY MENTAL EPISODE I GET TO CHOSE THE RANT LYRICS)

oucccchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ouuuuuuuccccccchhhhhhhhh

chat, is it ethical to ask someone to "just stop" having symptoms of emotional irregulation? omg Imma make a poll lmfao

just everything is bad rn im really going through it my life is falling apart and I keep ruining everything and its all my fault because I am not disciplined enough I hate

om,g that funny moment when your dad doesn't let you take meds when you actually wanted to try them and then you try weed and its cool but it does not help with school because work hates you, and so you try to get back into meds when you're in school and you never prepare enough for each semester and there wasn't time to adjust to new meds before the semester and then I ended up doing weed again because I cant just do the entire semesters unmedicated. ME??? MY ADHD ASSS????? TRYING NOT TO DIE AT UNIVERSITY????????

WITHOUT SUBSTANCES???????????

Oh goodness

Anyway but yeah that paragraph is basically just saying I wish I coulve had meds before I tried za. that way my chances of graduating without going to the psyche ward twice wouldve been probably been at least a little higher

and now guess who's giving me shit and probably hates me to death because im abusing their son/grandson and im not taking meds yet because I haven't had time to look for an in person psychiatrisist because im still looking for a job because I haven't cleaned my room yet because of the stupid internet sucking me into an infinite abyss of capitalized attention spans. yep that's right, my potential in laws. im sure they cant stand me anymore. his grandma literally told me to "take care of him if you know what's good for you" and I know that cleaning the house and not being verbally abusive is a great way to ensure our future family doesn't get sick.

im gonna kms guys ok not really but I think about it a lot sometimes I really cant stand this anymore

HOOOOOOOW DO YOU ACCEPT CONTSTRUCTIVE CRITICIMS NORMALLY>???????????????? HOW DO YOU JUST NOT BE SCARED BECAYSE YOU CAN'T TELL IF THEIR BEHAVIOR TOWARDS YOU IS JUSTIFIED OR IF YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP FOR YOURSELF??????????????

HOOOOOOOWWWWWW???????????????

OH AND ASO because my brother hates me and has gone no contact with me for the past few months and he just doesn't talk to me ever and also I want to die so bad and my cat

oh my cat

wang ja my beloved

*starts tearing up* ooough my caaaaaat..

my cat oh my beloved cat is almost in his 30s in cat years and I feel so horrible because he had to live with my parents for most of his 20s and late teens while I spent a lot of time with my bf because he was my safe space once, and now I see he's getting older even if only slightly and my house is so boring and the food is so shitty I want to give him fresh food from the farm and give him lots of fresh air and exercise and we just cant have those nice things rn because we live in a society. :"(((((((((

omg please someone just stab me i cant take this

[adhesivedildos]

I've, been doing better?

I briefly entered psychosis a month ago, just, under everything. Hallucinating at work, losing touch with who i am even am, being ostracized and threatened, i started idealizing religious esque themes of suffering i dont even know. but its okay. Friends have really fuckin helped me clear my head, telling me that im not crazy for feeling all of this, that everything has just been, a mess, and im allowed to just be alive. indi and mika notably, and im finally getting back into mutual aid, a community I've really missed and wanted to give myself to. I was so afraid I wouldnt be able to.

But I finally got back into therapy, back on E, I've been sober for weeks, (but i dont really feel that different, it was easy as just not drinking. hasnt really been an issue for a long time, just feel its time) I'm reading and journaling in my lil books everyday, taking shrooms, breaking into buildings with friend for photography and tagging, run sometimes, coming back into activism. Stargazing. My little things philosophy. Everyone at my job showed me overwhelming love when they found out i was leaving, im getting to see my friend for their birthday and it caught me really off guard and im excited for their gifts. ive rebuilt a healthy relationship with sex that i lost a long time ago, I did quite a while back but im only starting to let myself feel it now, (not that i usually even desire that frequently at all?) Im just being human again and im grateful.

I got, so immersed in hurt and confusion trying to bridge any line of communication and trying to understand what was happening to make people believe the things they were telling me i am, and what i was trying to do, it warped my reality for months. i couldnt let myself trust myself at all, every time something didnt add up or try to come up with an answer it was like voices screaming in my head telling me i was in denial, or shit like " oh so anybody except you must be crazy huh" and id just start from the beginning completely broken.

I've had a lot of massive revolutions of my understanding on life, about addiction down to all its microcosms of reward systems be it drugs or relationships or validation or cell phones. Spirituality, accountability, victim/abuser identities and the complexities of trauma, how to qualm and rewire those pathways that leave us helpless to ourselves. Most of all I just feel a deeper peace in understanding and letting go. empathy for myself, for everyone whos hurt me before. Were all going through the motions that come with being a collective of people at all, making the same mistakes and subsequent realizations that have been had before, will happen again, and getting closer to whatever "it" is.

I've been suspended in an extremely hard emotional state for a long time. I felt helpless and scared throughout my last two relationships, and it only got worse after it got better. I think im actually living again now.

[recents]

i often think that when i go out in public im obviously and immediately a freak and everyone knows im mentally ill, but recent developments have caused me to begin wondering if it’s literally *just* the autistic involuntary vocalizing thoughts and daydreams with gestures thing (very visibly Talking To Yourself In Public) that has caused me so much trauma about this, or specifically having been policed, ostracized, unpersoned, or punished for that behavior so much. i usually dont notice im doing it until its too late, but im able to mask that some days, and people whove never seen me do this actually treat me like an adult and an equal— they dont talk down to me, they dont look scared or apprehensive or suspicious, they dont try to make me leave, they dont try to escape the situation as soon as possible.

it’s at the point where i actually pathologically cannot let anyone see me enter daydream mode voluntarily, including my partner. we have a one bedroom and if i’m going to enter daydream mode to brainstorm for a project or just to relax, i go in the other room and the door gets closed.

in my experience, with everyone ive ever met, everyone from bosses and teachers to therapists and doctors to the person checking me out at the convenience store, people whove never seen me talk to myself tend to treat me like a human and an equal, professionally, academically, and socially, but as soon as someone sees me talk to myself, i get unpersoned.

all i can really say is, for all i have been policed for my behavior, thank god i’m white or i could be dead for it. thank god i’m “high-functioning” and have a job and can take care of myself, which has allowed me to get out of situations that could have become dangerous. i find it really interesting that there are very specific narrow mentally ill/neurodivergent behaviors that even very compassionate people immediately target and start treating you like you might need crisis mental health care for, like loudly talking to yourself. hey hey i’m not in psychosis, i don’t even get psychosis, i’m just vocalizing my thoughts and vocally stimming, i can’t help it but i don’t need help i’m literally just trying to get groceries. i don’t need the mobile crisis unit; look i work at a bank and everything, see how hygienic i am, please put your phone away!

[guanana]

do u still take reqs?!?!?! bcs im absolutely obsessed with ur pervy!hyuck fic😭😭 i want more of an elaboration of panty sniffer jaemin </3 maybe smth where jaemin is roommates with y/n and he finds her panties mixed with his laundry,, then he just goes to town with it 👹 then maybe he returns it completely soaked with his juicy come </3 i love u mwa have a nice day !!!!!!

request 05 ♡ njm x reader

aka beware the panty perv (jaemin special!)

genre: drabble smut, jaemin x reader, f x m, light angst

word count: 6.6k+

smut warnings: masturbation, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), a new panty perv arises, panty sniffing, dom!jaemin, possessiveness, squirting, don't get too mad at mc she just luvs cock too much

author's note: take this one with a grain of salt, it's not necessarily canon to the panty perv fic. i just love unnecessary drama and strife, and i love jaemin even more 💓

────── 〔✿〕──────

Previously, on Beware the Panty Perv:

( “And out of all the guys that you fuck, I’d like to think of myself as the most normal one. Yuta and Jaemin are weird,” Doyoung emphasizes. “Jaemin is definitely a panty sniffer. Have you seen him when he’s with Jeno? He practically looks like one.” )

——

"So, are you guys like," Jaemin tries to wrap his head around what he wants to say. He dons a scrunched face as he tries to belch out the god forsaken word out of his lips. "Dating?"

You're unamused at the way he shrivels up, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out in disgust like he just drank straight lemon juice. For someone so laid back, you'd never guess how painstakingly immature he could be at times.

Obviously referring to Haechan, here's the sitch on your guys' little entanglement.

Ever since Lee Haechan had been unmasked as the notorious panty perv, the people had been expecting you in all of your rage to make his life a living hell and ostracize him from any forms of human society.

Yet something that nobody ever anticipated was, considering your lack of rationality in most situations, was that you would end up fucking the guy. Even crazier, becoming exclusive fuck buddies with him.

So to answer Jaemin's question:

"Mm, no. Not yet at least," You shrug.

"Not yet?" Jaemin topples over theatrically, a hand clutching at his heart as he gasps for air. Reaching out to you in Shakespearean style to conjoin your hands, to which you oblige to entertain him in his dramatics. "The state of your guys' relationship is prophetic at this point?"

"I guess? It's all up to him, really. He says he wants to take it slow," You answer him, taking note of how the orange in his hair has long faded and grown into a gritty brown. Funnily enough, you like it on him more. "Why are you interrogating me anyways?"

"Because I'm going through the stages of grief right now," He cries, laying on his stomach and digging his head into your lap. Feet petulantly kicking against the cushions of the couch. The behavior causes you to sigh, he really is a kid. "Don't you sigh at me, missy. I'm experiencing denial right now!"

"Jaem," You try to break away from him when he lifts your shirt up to nibble at your stomach. "Haechan and I have been seeing each other for months now. There's no reason for you to be upset. Much less on stage one of griev— ow, you fucking weirdo. Stop biting me."

Pushing him away from you, his pretty face pops back from beneath the fabric of your shirt. Considering the fact he's allegedly 'grieving,' he sure does have a smug grin on right now. Upon being caught however, it quickly morphs into that annoyingly irresistible puppy dog look.

"I miss fucking youu," Jaemin whines, swaying back and forth against your thighs. "C'mon, just once? For old time's sake?"

"Nope," You bring your index and middle finger to the center of his forehead, exerting enough force to have him rolling off of your body and down to the floor. A small 'oompf!' following in his wake as he lands on his side.

"Why not?" The rejection doesn't deter him at all, collecting himself quickly before kneeling and resting his forearms on the top of your thighs. Sharp chin resting against your lap yet again like it was his very throne. "You said it yourself, you guys aren't dating yet! It wouldn't kill him."

"Isn't the second stage of grieving supposed to be anger? How did we skip to bargaining already?" You ask with a cocked eyebrow.

"It's interchangeable. Plus, I could never be angry at you," He responds indubitably, hurt that you could ever come to such a conclusion. "All I wanna do is make you feel so good, baby," He traces circles into your knee, bottom lip just barely grazing the top of your thigh as he inhales your scent.

His ears could never fail to catch the faint hitch of your breath against his feather-like touches, yet it still wasn't enough. Admittedly just a tad saddened at the fact you aren't already dripping wet for him. Once upon a time you'd start leaking for him upon his arrival, but ever since lover boy has come into the picture, it's as if he never existed in your realm in the first place.

"We can't, Jaemin," You reply in a somber tone. The right thing to do is to push him even further away, yet your body betrays you when you trail a hand through the brown tresses. Softening further into the back of the couch when he nuzzles into your hand, nose tracing into the palm of your hand upon delivering a chaste kiss to the flesh. You hate how plush those lips feel, retracting the hand like you've been burnt. "Seriously, stop that."

You admit that it's hard not to feel small when he watches you so closely. Practically seeing the flashbacks that play in his mind. Longing for the days where you could release your pent up frustrations on one another with no boundaries.

"What makes him so different?" The male asks, blinking up at you. "It was never a problem for either of us if we slept with other people. So, why now?"

What could you say? Haechan delivers in every category: sweet, intelligent, dorky, absolutely hilarious, thick dick, and oddly enough–

"He makes me really happy," You reply simply, looking down at Jaemin with complete stoicism. "I like him."

"Oh," Is all he musters.

Arms leaving your body like it's been forcibly repelled. There's a weight on his shoulders that has gotten increasingly heavier throughout the months the two of you had been separated sexually, your words making him feel like it's increased tenfold. He ponders what it could possibly be, realizing that he was granted no special privileges despite being there with you as both a sexual partner and friend for years. It what leads him to saying what he regrets in mere seconds.

"—even if he's a creepy panty stealing pervert?"

Jaemin has always been fond of you. You’re exuberant, warm. An unabashed confidence that never failed to draw people in. Though you've donned the not so friendly titles of many, anyone with two working eyes could tell that you were one to be respected.

So when the room of your shared apartment goes ice cold, Jaemin realizes he's fucked up beyond comprehension.

Callous eyes stare right through his soul, lifting yourself off of the couch before kneeling down at eye level with him. He's heard the stories of you when you're pissed off. The petty arguments that escalated a bit too far with Doyoung that lead to him shriveling in fear in a corner. Or the time you dragged Jeno by the ear for being mean to your friend. Everyone knows, Jaemin knows that you're absolutely ruthless. Yet he's lived so idly in your life that he's never been on the receiving end of it.

Kneeling down to eye level with the male, you poke an accusing finger into his chest. Twisting the nail just a bit too harshly into the flesh, he's thankful for the hoodie that separates you two, because surely with the force you're using you could break skin.

"Know your place, Jaemin," Your words laced with venom as you stare him down, causing him to cower away. "Don't you ever talk badly about Haechan."

Nodding feverently, he gulps as you break away from him. Standing up and brushing your clothes smooth before heading back to your bedroom. Craning your neck back to make a point, you make sure to hammer the nail. "Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jaemin sweats, this demonic aura of yours sending shivers down his spine.

It's not that you were overreacting, by all means you feel justified in how you handled the situation. Ever since the ordeal, people have been way too into your business for your liking. Word getting around the grapevine that Miss Popular decided to throw panty perv Haechan a bone. (Fuck Mark and his loud ass mouth for that, by the way.)

It annoyed you to no end. It's not like you liked Haechan because of what he did. The masses under the impression that you either took pity on him or you just liked having someone to blackmail, which wasn't the case at all.

You liked Haechan because he was Haechan. Nothing more, nothing less.

But when you look back at the deflated Jaemin, a pout adorning his face, you can't help but take his words into consideration. While you and Haechan were in this limbo between fucking and dating, no title whatsoever—

Would there be any harm in fucking around just a little bit more?

——

"I'm heading out!" You yell from the front door, shoving your boots on while keeping balance on the door handle.

It had been a little over a day since the altercation between you and Jaemin. With a disagreement being completely new ground for you two, he admittedly doesn't know how to handle it. Not one for confrontation, he sort of just wants it to let it mend itself.

Peeking his head out of his door, he catches you down the hall. You're wearing a pretty skirt and blouse rather than the usual baggy attire. Bile forming in his chest when he feels a little bitter at the thought of where you're probably going.

"Meeting with Haechan?" He asks blankly.

"Mm," You nod your head, struggling with the clasp of your boot without removing your hand from the door. Cheeks puffing out impatiently as you keep missing the latch to loop around.

Unable to deal with how cute you are much longer, Jaemin blows his bangs out of his face before strutting towards you. Bending down onto one knee to swat your hand away. Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the act of kindness, watching him take the latch into his own hands and looping it around with ease. "There," He huffs, brushing back the hair that's fallen past his eyes again before standing again.

"Thanks," You murmur, still feeling some leftover awkwardness from the day before.

"No problem." There's a beat of silence, then two. "Hey—"

"I—"

"You first," You insist, extending your hand to allow him to finish.

"I'm sorry," Jaemin apologizes, rubbing his neck nervously as he's not used to the gesture. "I shouldn't have said that about Haechan. I know you like him a lot."

You nod your head, appreciative of his words. "I forgive you, thank you. I'm sorry if I was a bit too harsh on you, I just don't want people to think badly of Haechan for what he did." "Don't even," He shakes his head. "It's understandable. I know everyone's been in your guys' shit. I guess I just got a little.."

When he sees you giving him your undivided attention, eyes big and nodding intently, he can't help but wonder how much more fondly you look at Haechan. Wondering what he had to do in order to be in his position. What he had to do to get that same affection and passion.

"Jaem?"

"Yeah, sorry. Jealous. I got jealous."

Your lips part in surprise at the confession. You're not used to this Jaemin, the grounded one who was always so sure of himself. So cool, calm, never one to be so vulnerable. You yourself are a bit scared to delve deeper into the meaning, afraid that you might find yourself in a situation that could ruin the stasis of what you've built these past few months.

Whether for better or worse, Jaemin continues. "Fucking you, I mean. Of course," He fumbles, trying to alleviate the tension.

Releasing a breath that you didn't even know you were holding, your shoulders drop in relief. "I see." "Yeah, so don't mind me," He plants his hands on your shoulders before twisting you around and pushing you towards the door. A long arm reaching past you, unlocking and opening the door before shoving you past the threshold. God this shit is awkward, he thinks to himself. "Good talk. Have fun, okay?"

"Wait, Jaem—" But before you can finish, he's already closing the door on you. Setting the boundary between you two for good, you accept that in letting Haechan becoming your number one, you'd have to accept losing others in the process.

Meanwhile, you're uncanny to the conflict that Jaemin's suffering through on the other side of that same boundary.

——

Said conflict has just gotten worse, bursted into an absolute dumpster fire in fact.

"This fucking idiot," He breathes out when he holds the material between his two hands, stretching it out for good measure to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Upon waking up to such a lovely day, Jaemin decided that today would be great for some productivity. Starting with laundry, he's neatly separated his piles. His spring playlist in the background as he tries to block out all thoughts of you probably getting railed by Haechan at this very second. He thinks he's been doing pretty well, thoughts of you coming to a pause when he gets into the groove of his chores.

Until he reaches a little halfway through his hamper, an unfamiliar floral piece of mint green meeting his point of view. Fishing it out, it takes no more than a millisecond to realize what he's just plucked out.

"You can't be serious right now," He rubs his face with a free hand irritably, holding it out to the light.

No doubt about it. These were yours, quite familiar with this pair in fact. You wore it often. Sometimes wearing it for him specifically because it's his favorite color.

How it got mixed in with his laundry? He doesn't want to know, nor does he care. Okay, maybe he does. A little bit. But that's beside the point.

The point is: you are absolutely terrible, treacherous, evil. An absolute minx that is out to ruin his life. He's sure of it.

And by the grace of some horny demon, or his own volatility, a horrible light bulb goes off.

The little angel and devil on his shoulder are currently clashing. Mind racing as he angles the panties to get a good look at them. Reminiscing the visions of how well they fit on your body, the strappy elastic squeezing against your hips so tightly that just a smidge of skin was poking out— his favorite thing to bite.

He really shouldn't be doing this, but when he remembers how beautiful you looked when he slid them to the side and slipped inside of your heat so easily, he loses all consciousness when he rolls back onto his bed. Sliding his shirt up and pushing down his sweat shorts past his thighs, member growing embarrassingly fast.

"God dammit," He berates himself, the material held between his index and thumb. Was he really about to do this?

If he remembered correctly, you didn't get mad when Haechan did it. So, it should be okay if he did, right?

Fuck it.

He rubs along the texture, feeling the damp remnants of your wetness on the seat of the material. Chest heaving in a quiet rage at the realization that these were most definitely fresh. Whether you did this on purpose or not was a problem for later. Right now, all he could think of is the taste of you on his tongue, wanting nothing more than the sweet pleasure of you suffocating him between your thighs.

It played like a record, the moment he brings the panties to his nose. Inhaling the potent scent of your past arousal brings him back. Fist gripped impossibly tight, knuckles are white as he sniffs to the point of his nose scrunching in. Getting lost in your smell before his tongue rolls out, losing his mind when it licks from the base. Sucking in the taste in hopes of absorbing every last drop, whites of his eyes taking him like a man possessed.

You were always such a good girl for him, doing whatever he told you to. The visual of you climbing up his body, a thigh planting on one side of his head before the other lands just as carefully. Looking down at you bashfully with a flushed face.

Past thoughts drove him up the wall, knowing that he was the only one who could make you nervous. He knew Haechan's appeal was being your bitch, but did you ever miss it? Not being in control? Being bent at another's beck and whim?

Letting the panties drop from his mouth, he licks around his glossy lips to savor the small amount of your taste he was able to get. It might've backfired though. Under the impression that it would quench his thirst for you, to bring him back to earth knowing that he wouldn't have you anymore. It only furthered his hunger. Wanting, needing more.

Panties that are now slick with his saliva trail down his body, the lace tickling his torso as it drags down to where he needs it most. He shudders when he wraps the material around his solid cock. Groaning when he gives an experimental pump, a pea sized drop of precum aiding him as it glides with ease.

He throws his head back in pleasure, picturing you riding his cock up and down instead of the pathetic alternative. Moaning your name out into the empty vicinity like it'll bring you back to him. It didn't matter who else it was, nobody's pussy could ever compare to yours.

"Miss how tight you are," He gasps, his orgasm approaching with each pump. Abdomen clenching when he thinks about the half lidded gaze you'd give him whenever you let him cum all over your face. Gorgeous, swollen and glossy lips lapping up the remnants like a delicacy. "Miss you so, so much."

When he slides the fabric along his tip, slimy material brushing against his frenulum, his hips buck up to chase the pleasure. Your name leaving his lips like a mantra, too drunk off of your minimal scent to consider how wrong his actions are.

White coats his taut abs, dripping down until it lands on his pubis. Profuse amounts of cum from holding back his desires. Gasping as he jerks himself to oblivion, the last of his orgasm painting your panties. Smiling fondly at the thought of your arousal and his meshing together, only mildly perturbed at the fact that he craves you so much he's willing to go to such lengths.

"Fuck," He curses. Dropping the defiled material to his side, rubbing at his face and groaning. Brushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead to take in the mess he's made of himself. "I really just did that."

"Yeah, you did."

He can't even be shocked. Shoulders drooping when he catches you leaning against the frame of his open door, an equally unamused expression meeting him. Clunking his head obnoxiously back against his bed frame, he grunts in irritation at being caught.

"Were you just standing there the whole time, you perv?" His head lolls onto his shoulder, making no effort to hide the evidence.

Tutting in response, you make your way over to his bed before plucking your used panties. Much too used to this scenario at this point, just because you and Haechan are seeing each other doesn't mean he didn't still go through your laundry. You sigh at the cum soaked material, plonking it onto his stomach. "Not the whole time, at least. Also, do you really think you're in the position to be calling me a perv?"

"Kind of, you just invaded my sanctuary without knocking," He shrugs. "What are you even doing back here anyways? Thought you had a date with lover boy." "First of all, your door was open," You raise a finger before taking a seat at the edge of his bed. Neither of you address the fact that his flaccid dick is out and he's got semen riding up his torso, it's almost comically mundane for you two. "Secondly, we had to call it early because Mark's punk ass busted a flat tire in the middle of nowhere."

"Great," Jaemin puffs.

"And thirdly," Your voice takes on a lower tone, cadence laced with an untraceable motive that has him peeking up in interest. "I don't think you're allowed to get mad at me when you used my panties to get off." He rolls onto his side to get a better look at you, lips quirking when he assesses your features. After years of fucking you, it doesn't take rocket science to know your tells. A twitch of your eyebrow lets him know that you're feeling things that you aren't supposed to be feeling.

"You're being awfully casual about this," Jaemin's own brow quirks, his veiny hand reaching back down to play with his cock ever so subtly, running his fingers down the softened length to entice you. He knows he's on the right track, the way your attention immediately darts to his movements. "I thought you'd be mad at me."

"I am mad," You scoff, toppling over his body and caging him against the wall behind him. Irritation coursing through you when you don't detect a single ounce of guilt or embarrassment. "You're an even worse panty perv than Haechan."

It only hits you then. This isn't Haechan. In fact, it's the polar opposite of your sweet boy. No amount of berating or intimidation could ever make Jaemin falter. The two are similar in the fact that they get off on this, but the latter loves pushing your buttons.

He wants you to succumb to him.

"What's wrong?" Jaemin smirks up at you when you soften above him, leftover cum aiding him in his strokes. Your lips caught between your teeth as his mouth drops open, gasping out in pleasure while he puts on a show for you.

Taunting you with a charming grin, his other hand grazes through your hair, tucking the strays behind your ear. He loves the way you watch him, your thighs clasping together to hide the fact that you're getting wet for him.

"You're so..."

"So..?" He tilts his head, erection springing back to life even harder at the adorable loss for words. "Why don't you show me how mad you are, baby? Teach me a lesson?"

"Jaem, I—"

"What? You can't?" He pouts, hand trailing to the side of your face. Thumb sliding across your bottom lip, cooing at your obedience when you take it into your mouth so pliantly. "C'mon baby. I miss that sweet pussy so much." "But Haechan..." Your eyes gloss over in conflict.

Pulling the thumb away from your mouth, the mood of the room completely shifts. Jaemin holds his pinky out, mischievous demeanor put on pause for just a second. Face somber and completely serious.

"You guys aren't dating yet. I won't say a word if you won't," He swears. "One last time, I promise."

You've been fighting it for a long time. You're sure of it, you were heavily enamoured by Haechan. He delivered in every aspect except a certain inherent need, something that Jaemin could always give with flying colors.

The only one that could turn you into putty with just that damned smirk.

Pinky finger stuck out like it's a seal of fate, you wrap yours around it. Locking them tightly, Jaemin's beyond elated at your agreement.

"One last time," You say.

"One last time."

And with that, he pulls you in close by your interlocked fingers, joining the two of you in a kiss. Instantly sighing in relief, missing the feeling after what feels like ages. Free hand cupping the back of your head to bring you in even closer, parting your lips with his tongue.

Relishing in your moans, he swallows them with glee. Loving the way your arms wrap around his neck, straddling him to mesh your bodies together.

"Mmf, missed this," Jaemin grunts when you take his bottom lip in between your teeth. Cupping your ass under your tiny skirt, he rolls the flesh eagerly. Snapping the elastic against your skin playfully.

"Hey," You giggle, interlocking your fingers to stop him from hiking your panties between your folds. "Fucking weirdo."

"Don't act like you don't love it," He laughs, rolling the two of you over. When you're below him, hair so prettily flowing against his pillows and beautiful neck exposed, he can't help but moan out dreamily. It really has been too long.

"Jaem," You whine, outstretching your hands in a grabby fashion when he goes down to nibble at your thighs. Scent of your arousal wafting his senses, his nose meet your covered core like a pied piper. Thighs snapping shut around his head, it only encourages him to dig deeper.

Strong hands pry them back open, licking you over the black lace. Soaking through them to the point that he can see juices leaking around your thighs. "Wore these for him, didn't you?"

You nod timidly, to which he chuckles lightly. "Did you guys fuck?" Peeking his head out of your skirt to hear your answer properly. When you shake your head, he's over the moon. "Perfect. You're all mine for today, then."

Peeling your panties quickly, he stares at the material with the same vigor he had with the mint colored ones from just a few moments ago. His tongue experimentally dips into the newly wettened panties, eyes rolling back at the extremely fresh wetness.

You moan at the depraved sight, his tongue dangling against the wet fabric with just the tip. Moans reverberating throughout the room at your nectar. Trying to pull him in by the shirt to bring his attention back to you, he blinks away his panty hypnosis. Dreamy grin when he apologizes quietly. "My bad, I just see why Haechan is so into this now."

Relishing in your sweat whines, pestering him to touch you, he climbs back down. Eye to eye with your throbbing core, wet with want. Jaemin always had that effect on you, able to get you giddy just from being in his proximity.

Much too starved from the appetizer, Jaemin dives right in. Tongue pointed and diving straight into your hole, causing you to cry out in euphoria. "Jaemin!" You cry, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his nose rubs to and fro along your clit.

"Fucking love how this cunt tastes," He groans against you. Grunts vibrating against your folds and aiding in the pleasure. Appendage swirling from all four sides of your walls, snaking along the sides before dipping in as deep as his muscle will allow him.

You see those two veins on his neck popping out, straining himself to give it you rough, just the way you love. Taut biceps circling around your thighs to bring you in even closer, a mixture of saliva and arousal leaking down and tickling against your rim. Slimy tongue spitting saliva down your hole. "Tongue feels so g-good, Jaem..." You gasp, hands tangling in his hair as you grind against his face.

Swapping his tongue to your clit and plunging his fingers knuckle deep, he needs no time to adjust before taking on a pace that leaves you dizzy. Fingers reaching deeper than his tongue as it grazes against your spongy wall.

He's fucking drunk off of your taste, deprived from the real thing for so long that he's almost forgotten how good you are. Maybe the fact that you're practically with another man makes the forbidden fruit even sweeter, rapture in taking what's not his. Envisioning Haechan watching you two as he devours you whole, crying out in anguish at his love being pleasured by another.

"J-Jaemin..." You cry, feeling the knot in your stomach about to release as his fingers increase in tempo.

"That's right, baby.. Say my name," Jaemin praises you. Suckling at your clit harshly, unrelenting when he feels you beging to spasm. His free arm circling around your stomach to push you down so you can't run away. "Say it again, and I'll let you cum."

"I— that's embarrassing!" You cover your face.

A stinging slap at the top of thigh spurs you into action, locking eyes with a frightening Jaemin. Devoid of any sympathy and wanting nothing more than to bend you to his will. "Say it."

"J–," A saliva covered tongue darts against your clit, lapping left and right harshly. "Jaemin!"

"Louder!" He snaps his fingers ruthlessly, like he has something to prove. Hitting your g-spot every single time.

"Jaemin, Jaem—! Fuck!" You screech before releasing all over his face, clear liquid coating his entire face translucent. The man beyond insane when he refuses to pause his fingers' thrusting, jaw wretched open to catch every drop you give him. An innate need to ruin you. "Jaem— no!"

Trying to shove him away when he attacks your clit again, he pushes you from the back of your thighs to fold you into yourself. Growling into your cunt deeply as he laps you up until your clean, ignoring your pleads as fat tears roll down your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation.

When he breaks away his hair is a mess, covered from nose to collarbone in your pussy juice. Panting crazily as he wipes at his swollen lips, exposed cock practically weeping with precum. Getting up from the mattress to throw off his shirt and pants angrily, smearing his first orgasm off like it was never there in the first place.

"Want you. Need you, now."

Jaemin doesn't spare you a second of recovery, immediately pulling you by the ankles until your ass is hanging off the bottom of the bed. Tearing your skirt off and ripping at your blouse, buttons popping off mercilessly.

In any other situation you'd yell at him for his haphazard actions. However, you're meeting a completely new side of Jaemin. A man completely malnourished of his desires, taking out his frustrations on the one thing he's wanted most.

You fear the intimacy, yet chase after it. Letting him have his way with you when he pulls at the cups of your matching black bra, suckling as much of your breast as possible. Lapping at the nipple, the leftover droplets of squirt trails along your own body.

"I missed this," You admit aloud, raspy with croaked tears and an overwhelming amount of pleasure.

"Yeah?" Jaemin growls, lining his cock with your weeping hole. Never averting eyes, you gasp when his tip intrudes at your hole. Teasing ever so slightly. You're convinced at this moment you need nothing more than Jaemin. "Bet your sweet boy would die on the inside if he saw you like this, breaking beneath me like a little fuck doll."

As mean as the comment is, it just turns you on even more. Cursing at yourself when a fresh coating of arousal helps Jaemin slide in. Inching in so slowly, girthy cock splitting you open. "Fuck, you like that? You like the thought of cucking Haechan? Letting him see how much of a slut you are?"

"N-no..." You stutter, lips dry when Jaemin makes his way all the way inside. The two of you gasping in unison when he bottoms out. "That's so mean.. I-I love Haechan."

Love?

The word causes a chord to snap in Jaemin. Wanting to take his last time with you slow, but the devil on his shoulder wins. Possessing him, rearing the ugliest side when his hands dig into your hips. Pulling all the way out to the tip, waiting for just a few seconds—

"Jae—?"

And slamming all the way back in, so forceful that he shoves you up the bed several inches. You scream at the pummeling, not able to address the way he grips the back of your thighs. Folding you into a mating press before he climbs up the bed with you.

"Fucking slut," Knees dig harshly into the bed when he slams into you. Squeezing your face to make room for your lips to pucker in, not allowing you a second to realize his intentions before hwacking a wad of spit. Fluid shooting straight down your throat with precision, you cough around it a little before the delicious liquid slides down your throat. "Love? Don't fucking play with me."

"I do!" You scream, finding that your protests cause to him to be even rougher with you. Your ankles practically meeting the sides of your head. "I love Haechan!"

"You love Haechan but I'm fucking you right now, how does that work?" He scoffs at you, laughing maniacally at the tears that wash down your cheeks. Makeup from your prospective date completely ruined, eye makeup trailing down your eyes and lipstick smeared along your ruined lips. "Obviously don't love him enough if you're running back to me like this. Or, don't tell me—"

He brings his lips down to your ear. "He just doesn't fuck you as good as I do?"

When you don't protest, he feels victorious. Length piercing unreachable destinations inside of you. Thighs burning from how far he's stretching your body out. If this was going to he the last time, he was going to leave an impression.

Jaemin's tongue lolls out to slide up the cheek that sheds such sweet tears for him, he loves how every part of you tastes. He wishes to etch it into the most important crevices of his brain.

"You... you do..." You bite against his shoulder, digging your nose into his neck as you peck kisses along the beautiful expanse.

"Hm, baby?" He punctuates with another poignant thrust.

"You fuck me best! You!"

Jaemin has always been fond of you. You're unbelievable. Jaemin's every fantasy manifested into a one single being.

Yet, you could never be his. At least, not in the way he wants you to be.

So the very least he could do was make sure that you would always look back at the memory of him fondly. To remember the ways he would bend you to and fro. To arch your back when a shiver of a flashback invades your mind. To leave such an impression that you wish Haechan could be just like him.

"Love you," He whispers so quietly, he prays you don't hear it. Arms dropping your thighs in exchange for hugging you close, rutting into you like he's lost in heat.

"Jaemin!" You screech, pussy clasping around his cock so tightly. He's lost in your wet walls, wrapping around him like you're sent from heaven. Hips trying to get even more of him greedily. Wetness slapping against the bottom of his abdomen, it's too much to bear.

Wishing that the moment would last forever, he clasps his eyes shut as he fantasizes a scenario where this would only be the first of many times. You'd allow yourself to be his hole that he could take whenever he wanted, whether it be the couch or the kitchen counter.

The head of his cock gets trapped between your walls every time he tries to go too far away, and your legs dig into the bottom of his back painfully to bring him back in. Feeling you get so much tighter that he knows you're about to cum. "C'mon, baby. Cum with me, let me use this pussy one last time."

You look at him worriedly, completely forgetting that his favorite place to cum was inside you. With a pleading face, you could never deny him. Giving him the go ahead with an ardent nod.

He can't help it, when you circle your arms around his neck to pull him down for one last kiss. There's something beyond desire, but you can't push him away. Welcoming his feelings as he spills them inside of you.

Everything is full. Your mouths with battling tongues, your walls being coated in egregious amount of cum, and most of all—

your heart full of unspoken affections that were never expressed before.

He calls your name, eyebrows furrowed together as his orgasm is borderline painful from how much he spills inside of you. Plugging it in all the way to the hilt to let it simmer for awhile, never wanting to leave.

The room reeks of sex, walls swirling around you after such an intense fuck. Feeling the indentations of nail marks along your hips and thighs.

When Jaemin loses his strength, he falls on top of you. A small 'oof!' escaping you when his weight encapsulates you. Still connected even if his cock is beginning to soften.

It shouldn't be allowed. This intimacy, the way he blinks at you slowly and that soft smile that creeps onto his face. You shouldn't be trailing a hand along his face, kissing the corner of his lips longingly.

"Last time," He bargains. Rolling onto his side, taking great care to not pull out. Wanting nothing more than to stay attached to you until there's no other choice than to leave.

"Last time," You emphasize, eyes shutting closed when he pulls you close. His bare chest pressing into your back, you hate how safe you feel. Closing your eyes and allowing Jaemin to press kisses that hold meanings like love letters down your spine. Lips tracing every crevice of your body and memorizing it.

As much as the two of you joked about it. Jaemin really was grieving, but with the last piece of you completing the puzzle, he believes he's gotten the closure he needed. Knowing that your heart has already been captured and that he was just a bit too late—

he's made it to the final stage, he's ready to accept.

——

epilogue (weeks later)

"Haechan!" You screech from your bedroom, bursting out with the door slamming against the wall. Steam practically simmering out of your head when you reach your boyfriend who immediately sits up from his spot on the couch.

"Y-yes, sweetheart?" Haechan squeaks, your hands on your hips letting him know that you're beyond pissed.

Jaemin peeks his head out of his lair curiously. Watching the chaos unfold, you're animatedly throwing your arms around as you berate Haechan. An eyebrow cocking upwards before his lips form into an 'o,' muttering an 'oh shit' beneath his breath.

Holding out a defiled set of cotton panties in front of Haechan's face, your boyfriend's mouth drops in sheer confusion. "Wait a secon—"

"We talked about this! If you want to use my panties, you ask!" You stomp your foot onto the carpeted floor. Puffing your chest out, ignoring his protests when you grab his ear.

"But baby! It wasn't me!" Haechan cries out in anguish as you drag him down the hall, neither of you addressing Jaemin as you make it to your room.

Maybe your blind trust in Jaemin was your own fault. But, you couldn't even consider the possibility of it being him after Jaemin solemnly swore to never interfere with you and Haechan's relationship ever again.

However, after carrying the torch that Haechan had left as the notorious panty perv. Jaemin thinks that in the fine lining of the contract, using your panties to jack off was fair game. He definitely should have been stealthier in hiding your panties after he did the deed, but such is life.

When you slam your door shut and Jaemin's ears are flooded by Haechan's obnoxious squeals, he rolls his eyes. Closing his own room to head back to his desk, he pops on his noise canceling headphones. Much too aware that you're about to ride Haechan's dick until he's a crying mess.

In the meantime, an evil smirk appears on his face. He walks over to his night stand and slides open the drawer, pulling out those floral mint panties.

Snickering to himself, he wonders if you're really just that oblivious or if you yourself couldn't keep your promise of your rendezvous' coming to an end.

Whether it's the former or the latter, Jaemin sighs with glee when he takes an obnoxious sniff of your panties.

Ah, bliss.

end

────── 〔✿〕──────

author's note: dear anonnie, thank you SO much for your patience. i know this one took much longer than it should have, but i kept on changing the plot around until it was something i could be satisfied with. i hope i was able to deliver.

thank you for participating and making this event so much fun, and thank you for being so fond of not only the panty perv fic but liking it so much you wanted more elaboration on the other characters <3

EDIT: request status — CLOSED

[hotdamnmadison]

My Battle With Body Hair

Google the word Crossdresser for me. Right now - go ahead. And take a minute to sift through the millions of photos that pop up in front of you. Seriously go do it and come back after 3-5 minutes of scrolling...

All done? Good. Tell me, how was your scrolling experience? What did you see? How diverse were the faces?

(The following is NOT a picture of me)

Crossdressing has been a thing for a long time. Rather than bore you with the details of it's origin and first known cases - I will simply say that men and women alike have been dressing as the opposite sex for forever. Here is more info if you're a scholar.

It truly is a tale as old as time. Especially when you consider that our ancestors wore the same cloth scraps as clothing (regardless of their sex.) But like all good things - humans found a way to fuck it up - and ostracize those who continue to partake in it. My misanthropy is shining through - because society found a way to take fabric and somehow gender it.

My crossdressing journey started a while ago. I wish I knew exactly when - but I remember having a fascination with Halloween skirts in the attic of my parent's house, old unopened pairs of pantyhose still in the boxes, and panties that went from being buried deep in an ex-girlfriend's drawer to my very own private hiding place. Hey she wasn't wearing them - so someone might as well ;)

I loved it. And still do (though I'm no longer considering myself a crossdresser - I'm definitely more gender fluid.) So I kept pushing myself deeper and deeper into it. All while trying to maintain my boyish side as well...

---

Every guy tries to grow a beard in high school. If you say you didn't at least try I'm going to assume you're lying (lol okay maybe a little harsh but most guys did attempt it.) I was no stranger to that effort myself. My genetics kept me from growing anything worth keeping until I was in my first semester of college. Leading up to that - I had the "Oh God Please Just Shave It" face pubes that most 17 year old's call a beard. But I kept trying - even at one point using a "just for me" hair color to darken the hair that I WAS able to grow.

I kick myself for that everyday. Because here I am at 28 almost 29 years old with a well trimmed bit of stubble that I can't get rid of.

Note: If this is deflating for you to find out - I think you should probably unfollow/unfriend me.

But alas, yes it is true *faints dramatically* My perfection is held back by my darned facial stubble/beard. How I'd love to go back in time and tell my younger self to just fucking shave and quit trying... ugh... hindsight is 20/20. I'm not a stranger to other disliked hairy areas - under arms and legs - both areas that most men don't shave without having a really good excuse (and before you make any suggestions: I don't bike, swim, or weight lift/body build lol.)

---

This has been an obstacle for me (as you might imagine) when trying to meet people. Let's be honest - my slender body has most men caught hook, line, and sinker. They would come SPRINTING into my DM's faster than you could ever imagine. Back then I was on a website called Free Chat Now - an adult IM site that is carrying the weight of the Chat Room world on it's ever crumbling shoulders. I would add my own little 30 character pitch line to the scrolling wash of copy/paste pitches. And within 30 seconds I would have dozens of men to get back to. First things first: ASL... get that out of the way, add a little bit of flirting... and then came picture time. "Yours for mine" is what I would usually say. And inevitably I would receive a nasty toilet dick pick taken in a convenience store or office bathroom. Yum. Great.

And then it was my turn to send a pic in return. *upload, send, wait* Usually it would be a hot little picture of me in some lingerie or just a panty ass shot. Cute enough to keep them talking and jerking (I was easily entertained back then.) Something like this was typically my go-to. (This next one IS me haha)

Omg they ate it up almost every time. Usually things would go well and then *boom* the window would close - it was a tell tale sign that they couldn't hold out any longer and well.... things probably got messy (a shame that they mostly disappeared before giving me a way to reach them for future digital fun! :( lol.)

But on a few separate occasions some men wouldn't be so easily sold...

"Face pic?"

Ugh... And the game was on.

Now I personally don't use Face App anymore. Especially if I am planning to meet with someone in real life. But back in the day, when I was strictly playing around on the internet with strangers in chat rooms, Face App was a very useful tool. And besides - it wasn't REALLY catfishing - because it is exactly what I would look like if I was...

clean shaven

done up beautifully in makeup

Here is an old pic from my face app days. Don't swoon too hard ;) lol. (me again: face app'd)

Ah. Thank you Face App! Saving the day and allowing me to keep both halves of my lifestyle in tact.... At least, that worked for a while anyway.

See when push came to shove I determined that online play was no longer enough for me. I needed more. I needed the real thing. But there is no Face App for the real world. It's a commitment. It's a question I've been facing now ever since...

Who do you want to be?

And the battle continued. At first I wouldn't talk about the facial hair in my ads. And if I did a webcam play session with a guy I would simply avoid my face. (Many wanted to see me suck on things - to which I politely lied and said, "hey maybe next time".) Time and time again my amazing conversations would end at the dreaded facial hair road block. And it took me years to realize that there was no reason to be beating myself up for it.

Men don't realize that these is a huge difference between a MtF trans individual and a CIS man who likes to dress in "women's" clothing (and who also didn't realize that they were gender fluid.) Y'all remember this idiot right? ->

My favorite quote here is the "that's not a real CD...."

My guy... Yes it fucking is! Anyone with a head on their shoulders and a Barnes and Noble nearby can determine that men with beards have been cross dressing for forever (as stated in the beginning.) Unfortunately, the porn industry has lumped very gorgeous trans women in with not so gorgeous crossdressers. And dipshits like the guy above can't tell the difference.

So here I am - years later still fighting the same battle. I wear my silly little outfit killing mask to cover up my "undesirable" bodily traits....

Oh shit! I never told you all WHY I feel the need to maintain my stubble/boyish self. Well allow me to explain

(realizing I love making lists lmao)

To put it simply: change is hard I have had a beard now for a long long time and to move away from that would be a challenge for me. Seeing a new face in the mirror every day. It's just a tough pill to swallow initially

My jawline sucks without the beard I won't be posting any boy photos of myself here, so don't ask. But yeah I have shaved down ONE time completely bare over the last several years. And it wasn't pretty (in terms of maintaining a boyish side. It was however PERFECT for my Ashley side... and I was tempted to bust out the makeup and experiment but never did

Shaving raises many questions from family and friends - I get it, it's none of their business. But I would have to answer the same 3-4 questions over and over again about why I did it and things like that. I would probably do away with the leg hair and other hair as well. And I simply don't have a non suspicious reason to do so at the moment.

I'm not sure I'm ready to tip my 70/30 scale of fluidity to 50/50 just yet - Currently Ashley only gets about 30 percent of my time, and that's being generous. My boyish side dominants my existence, and in my current lifestyle I think it works well enough. I feel as though shaving everything below my eyebrows would tip things closer to 50/50 - a place I'd eventually like to be but for right now - I simply can't

Ah. Feels good to get this post off my chest. I hate righting words like beard, hair, pass, passable, leg, armpit, etc. Those words damn near trigger something in me at this point. And now I have a post to explain WHY it is so difficult for not only me, but for so many others to fully commit to the porn-driven cross dresser image. I've seen a lot of men, typically 50 plus, who are divorced and are finally crossdressing and making Double List ads. It is sad - because they sit there in a similar position that I am in. They want to be bare and fully pass under any circumstances. But society and it's standards are too hard for closeted men to meet. There is no on/off switch for body hair and genetic make up - at least nothing short of estrogen and other medications.

But someone's inability to pass doesn't mean they should be frowned upon by anyone. And you can't simply be nice to certain trans women/crossdressers because you find them attractive - and then blatantly disrespect and hate on those who don't pass. Everyone's journey is valid - even if they have to wear a silly mask to a meet up. I would invite those of you who CANNOT STAND body hair to attempt to look past it for just a moment. Is the rest of the person physically attractive to you? Furthermore, (and if it's you're thing) are you emotionally connected to this person? And the only hang up is some measly hair? That seems like a pretty crappy reason to ruin a good thing - wouldn't you say?

---

Me personally? The mask has grown on me a bit. I'd still like to one day reach a point where I no longer feel that I need it. And if that day comes, and I'm living my 50/50 lifestyle, I'll be sure share myself with people who deserve me. I'm sad to say that there are people around me who aggressively judge a known crossdresser in the town that I live. The things that they say cut me pretty deep - and I make a mental note of every slur and saying that passes through their lips. Some day I'll get comfortable enough to be the 50/50 version of myself. Hell... maybe even 40/60... And I'll be more Ashley than my boy side.

Until then... I'll continue to edit out my leg hair, under arm hair, and other blemishes using light photoshop skills. Enjoy my silly masked self and all of my "flaws" and if you don't like what you see/read, well.... I was too much woman for you anyway <3

-Ashley

----

I have a few more things to write in the coming days! Including a new challenge series that I intend on doing to better my writing skills. I'll talk more about that tomorrow morning :)

Much love,

Ash

[sillyandquiteawkward]

little father and bayley fic under the cut bc i forgot my ao3 password and im lazy. hope you enjoy

Food supplements and leafy greens sat on Doctor Bayley's plate, which he picked at distastefully. The Director of the Institute, Father, sat across from him, making decent headway with his own meal.

"I don't think I can ever learn to enjoy the food supplements. This flavor isn’t palatable either," Bayley curtly complained with a heavy sigh. He felt Father's lingering judgement upon him for refusing most of his meal again, without even having to look up. He poked at the slab of supplement with the tines of his fork. Even the various flavors the Institute boasted of supplements couldn't save Bayley from the pastes, powders, and bars turning his stomach. He was trying his best to find a flavor he could stand, but to Bayley, even mirelurk was easier to eat. At least the fresh vegetables were decent, if not simply boiled or baked if cooked at all. "I'd kill for some real meat on your menu."

"Come now, Doctor, we have little need to slaughter irradiated animals for food in this day and age. BioScience has developed the perfect meal dozens of times over, consisting of the exact amount of daily nutrients a man like yourself needs," Father replies coolly. Bayley glared at the older man. Of course he'd like them -- he grew up on the damn things. Well, Bayley grew up on real food!

"Designed a food that doesn't even fill your stomach," he mumbled behind his mug as he took a sip. Now to their credit, this was something Bayley actually liked. The coffee wasn't stale 200 year old beans and grounds. My god, they perfected the damn synthetic coffee and Bayley couldn't imagine going back.

Father confidently smirked, passing smoothly over Bayley's remark with a gentle shake of his head. "You poor surface dwellers, eating any and all the food you can scrounge to stave off hunger. I'm glad we were able to save you from that life. Give it time, Doctor. Your stomach will re-adjust to your new diet."

Bayley scoffed dismissively and set his fork down to keep nursing his coffee. Father took his own sip of tea. The pair fell into a dip of silence, accompanied by the gentle clink of silverware against plate as Father continued to finish off his lunch. Behind them a few tables over, there was a slight chatter from another pair of scientists in the cafeteria. Licking a crumb of food supplement left on the edge of his mug with a grimace, Bayley listened to their distant hushed conversation. Sounded like gossip about another scientist’s love affair... Hard to believe that even the “perfect” Institute could be filled with, what was ultimately, humans.

Father spoke up after a minute of Bayley straining to eavesdrop, "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Doctor?"

"...Why?" Bayley eyed Father suspiciously. "Don't you already know all about me? Isn't that why I'm here?"

Father took a warm sip of his mug before continuing. "I know about your reputation, or lack thereof." Bayley all but growled at the dig. "And I know you care deeply for the progress of humanity, as do I, albeit a tad misguided. You’re a highly intelligent man, Doctor, but I'm afraid I don't know about you, personally. I'd like to remedy that."

What could Bayley tell Father about? Why should he? Oh, but he loved to talk about himself... Bayley leaned back in his chair with folded hands in his lap, food left forgotten on his plate. "What is there to say? I'm a man married to his work, who likes breathing fresh air. On the surface."

“What got you into studying radiation?” Bayley noticed Father missed his complaint, or at least was ignoring it. “Surely you didn’t set out from the start on such a dangerous fascination.” Father had a look of curiosity on his face that seemed genuine to Bayley, although he still had suspicions this had ulterior motives.

“It was almost from the beginning actually. As I studied medicine in my youth, traveling along the Wasteland, I have to admit,” Bayley paused to consider his wording. “I had a distinct admiration of the ghoul’s ability to utilize radiation to build themself anew. The destructive power of radiation makes using it dangerous and even deadly, true, but I imagined a world where we could manipulate the human body to replicate how a ghoul’s body uses the gamma particles destructive properties to heal themselves, sans the ghoulification process of course.” Okay, so maybe he planned to be cagey, but Father just had to ask him about the thing he’s devoted his entire life to. Sorry, he’s gonna get excited. “I’d seen first hand ghouls reattach long lost limbs to themselves and remain functional, ferals even being brought back to life by glowing ones’ radiation bursts, and the stories of people growing functional limbs from radiation exposure caught my particular attention at a young age.”

“Fascinating things ghouls are, although their rotten brains and appearance are less than desirable. If anything their longevity is what catches my attention. Living over hundreds of years...” Father drifts off, looking past Bayley. “Imagine what one could achieve with that extra time.”

“Living forever doesn’t matter if you aren’t healthy,” Bayley corrected. “What’s the point of living if you are just suffering every day. I’m focusing myself to helping people in this day and age, instead of chasing functional immortality.”

“Maybe that’s the difference between us,” Father sighs. “Everything I do is for tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow. Humanity's future lies in our successor’s hands. It’s a shame we cannot directly work with our future generations to combine our knowledge. All we can do is help prepare them for when we are gone.”

“Eventually people in charge need to step down and let the fresh ideas in, otherwise we’ll collectively stagnate. We are stubborn creatures who hate change, snuffing out ideas that contradict our own. If someone like you lived forever, he’d never give up the reins.”

“I suppose you’d do the same,” Father states blandly, eyes half-lidded. “As you said, we are stubborn creatures.”

Bayley sputters, sitting back up in his chair. “No, I am the innovator in this scenario! I’ve been ostracized for my ideas, kicked out and shunned. No one sees my potential to change the world!”

“And in your age, have you begun to prepare an heir to your scientific knowledge, Doctor? Or do you think you can finish this chronicle yourself, with the few years left in your life?”

“I-I have to prove myself first! No one trusts my work because they don’t see the proof -- which I was working on when you so kindly stole me away from my clinic and subjects!” Bayley hissed, gripping the edge of the table.

Unphased, Father folded his hands on the table. “I trust your work, Doctor Bayley. I’ve seen your studies, seen what you can do when you are truly devoted to a cause. This is why I wanted you with us at the Institute. I want you to share your knowledge to us, so that we may pass it to the future with us. Let us help you ensure your legacy. We have the same goals, and we even have similar methods if you can believe it. Imagine what we can do together when we combine our knowledge, for humanity’s sake.”

Bayley raised an eyebrow at that. “Similar goals perhaps, but I wont be a part of the kidnapping and killing of Commonwealth citizens. You Institute folk are outrageously barbaric for all your self-righteousness.”

“We simply know how to weigh the importance of breaking a few eggs for the omelette. You too understand this principle closely, don’t you?”

Bayley grimaced flatly. “You truly know how to charm a man to your side.” This conversation was over if Bayley had anything to say about it, which he did. He gulped from his mug, keeping it up to his mouth as he turned physically away from Father. He’ll finish this and go back to his room. Trapped in the Institute with these madmen, forced to go along with things else suffer the same fate as the hundreds of others taken to the Institute. And Father had the gall to act like they were the same, that Bayley could excuse innocents murdered for “science.” He slammed the mug back onto the table.

“I hope you’ll understand one day soon, Doctor. I really do.” Father sighed, closing his eyes in defeat as Bayley stood up.

“I don’t want to understand,” Bayley said as he stormed past Father back to the concourse.

It was too much to think about, if Bayley was being honest with himself. He grit his teeth climbing the stairs, tense. A scientist descending the stairs stood to the side as Bayley passed, clearly wanting to give the angry man some space and avoid any conflict. Good. If he was to stay here, people should give way for him. Now if only Father was like that. He passed a pair of expressionless generation two synth guards eyeing their laser weapons as he ascended the next flight.

God, he was annoyed. Of course Father had to go ruin another meal together talking nonsense of Bayley hurting others. He tried his best not to hurt his subjects -- everyone was willing and importantly, no one had died under his care! Sick perhaps in the early days... but it wasn’t death! Bayley couldn’t stand the idea his great idea could possibly kill others when it was supposed to be helping them. If he was ever responsible for someone’s death...

Bayley slid open the automatic door to his small, barren room. It was just a simple bed and desk, which was plenty for Bayley, but he wished he had his trinkets and such if he was going to be living here until the day he dies. He collapsed onto the stiff bed, face pressing against the cool pillow. He missed his couch. He missed his clinic. Bayley even considered he missed being annoyed by Jonathan and Jay’s antics. Jay would try his best to cheer him out of this spiraling train of thought, and Jon would know plenty of things to distract him with.

If he was ever responsible for their deaths, Bayley considered he’d quit on the spot. He’d probably become deeply depressed until he really did just curl up and die, however fast it came after. All his life’s work to save humanity, and he’d killed the only people who trusted him most to do so.

But the truly terrible part of him hidden away deep in his heart wondered that if someone was to die as a result of his work, perhaps even if he wasn’t working willingly with the Institute, that he'd simply wouldn’t care.

[chocolatte-and-despair]

hello! i think it said ur matchups were still open, and ur characterization is super good so i wanted to send in a req for a dsmp matchup !!

gweh ok so: im new to adult life and it still hasnt hit me that im an adult even thought its been a good while since i became one. im she/her and im pretty childish, but in a "12 year old who just learned the word fuck" kind of way. i make a ton of poop jokes but im actually pretty funny and my comedy is one of the few things i can say that i have solidified my skills in. unfortunately i have a really hard time understanding social scenarios and other people's feelings. not in like a cute way where its endearing but in an annoying way where a lot of stuff that is very obvious flies right over my head, like when someone is clearly reaching out for help but they cant say it directly so i think theyre just being honest when they say theyre okay. its a double edged sword because while i cant understand someone trying to be subtle when they like me, its the same with people who dont like me and try to make me feel bad. a lady at my work tried to make me feel bad about my unshaved legs by saying she doesnt wear shorts unless she shaves her legs and looked at me VERY obviously trying to get me to give a response as to why i dont, but i thought she was just including me in the conversation so i said "yeah i like tie-dye shirts with red jean shorts"

i used to be a very very VERY mean person before i got a reality check that made me shape up and stop being horrendous, so now im a generally nice person. i can go too far with teasing to the point where it seems like mocking, though, so i need to work on that. something im proud of myself for is that i always make an effort to include people in stuff because i very much understand how it feels to be ostracized and purposefully excluded, as well as just overlooked or unintentionally ignored for no real reason, so i work very hard to include everyone in group activities and make sure everyone is engaging (if they want to, of course). i have 2 best friends and both of them have the same dynamic with me, and the best description would be like those anime duos where theres a short, loud, energetic class-clown and a tall, stoic, cool wallflower who makes all the classmates swoon (and im only 5'4" so you already KNOW which role i fill in that duo)

in minecraft i literally hate mining which is ironic because thats literally 50% of the game's title so all i do in multiplayer worlds is fuck with my friends and pvp for them when they want someone killed lol. like for reference all my friends have human skins of either themselves or their ocs and mine is a skin i made of perry the platypus in a diaper

that was rlly long so sorry if none of that information is pertinent LMAO ilu tho and if u took the time to read this regardless of if u reply thank u so much ❤😭🙏 ur so swag

After thinking for a little bit, I decided to give you ... Hannahxxrose! I believe that your childishness and her kindness would go together pretty well!

A . How would they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? - Hannah would absolutely drown you in plans and affection. She doesn't shy away from showing you that she loves you and adores you in any way possible.

B. What type of future are they planning with their lover? - Hannah wants to live somewhere far away from everyone else, in a forest, in a little cabin where you two could be happy.

C. What is the scariest moment with them? - Hannah has many times killed people she thought would take you away and used their bodies as fertilizer for her plants.

D. How do they usually act with their lover? - Hannah is very kind with you. She is very loving towards you. Hannah also loves to grow plants with you.

E. How would they court their lover before? - Hannah would leave a rose on your front door every single day with a romantic letter, telling you where to meet her everyevery dayday if you ever want to accept her feelings.

F. What's their favorite memory/thing in the relationship? - Hannah can still remember the day that you came to accept her love, looking as cute and shy as ever!

[boy-gender]

Hi! You can answer this publicly or privately, but I figured maybe someone else might have a similar question? I just wanted to ask about your personal reasons for using it/its pronouns.

I ask bc I've come across two different characters, now, in media I enjoy, that use it/its pronouns. And I've enjoyed seeing it! They're both two of my favorite characters in their respective media. And i think im kinda questioning whether or not my excitement for these characters (particularly when pronouns are discussed bc they're both great characters outside of that fact) is just bc it's nice to see representation, even beyond they/them pronouns, or if maybe I should consider it/its for myself? I'm not sure, I just thought hearing other people's experiences could potentially help me figure that out. Thank you for your time!

Happy to answer!

First of all, whatever pronouns you want to use is entirely up to you! Nobody gets to tell you what to use and what not to use, or what to try out and change later if you don't like it. If you feel like you want to try a set of pronouns, try it! If it doesn't jive, just change it again. There is no limit to how many pronouns or labels you can use, try, drop, pick up again, or how many times you change it. If it sounds like it/its makes you happy, go for it, even if it just "just" because of characters you like. There's nothing wrong with being influenced by the stories that are important to you.

My reason for using it is mostly trauma-based. All my life I've felt a significant disconnect from my own body, but I didn't realize I had a dissociative disorder until I was like 24. A combination of child abuse causing the disorder, where I never felt like my body was/is me, just that I'm a thing inhabiting the body, possessing it like a spirit- and also lifelong bullying and ostracizing by my peers both contributed to it. There are many times I don't feel like a man or a woman, or a nonbinary person, or any type of person at all. I was dehumanized; I had my humanity stripped from me, including my gender. Fat autistic weird 'girls' aren't treated like girls, intersex tomboys aren't treated like boys, we're treated like monsters. Like kicked dogs. I existed only to be abused by the people around me- my parents and teachers who were supposed to protect me, and the peers who should have been my friends and community. Freaks don't have genders, those are for people. And I was constantly reminded that I did not count as a person.

I very much associate the bullying I endured with my gender nonconformity. I was an afab intersex person- I was a girl of age like 13 with a moustache and beard growing in. I was fat, and my fat never distributed to the 'desired' places for a girl (also, this was like 2008. There was no 'desired place' for fat on girls). Other kids knew or sensed things were different about me- that I was queer in multiple ways, that I had several mental illnesses, that I was fat and ugly and was friends only with other rejects, meaning nobody gave a shit what happened to us. There would be no one to come to our defense no matter how severely we were harmed. We didn't matter.

When I found out I was a system, it put a lot into perspective. The disconnect from the body, from my identity, from my own memories (which are all in third person) made more sense. My other is not human. At first I assumed the "it-ness" was because of this, but actually he doesn't like to be called it at all. It hurts him. It doesn't fit. The it-ness is from me. It's an expression of the gender experience I was denied, a reclamation of the othering I suffered. I don't count as human. I will never be worth being human, or having typical human experiences. I will never be allowed into the club. But it turns out there are other clubs out here- humanity and the cisgender binary are not the only options. I no longer see my othering as "be human or just die," but as "not human? Cool, come try one of these other myriad things." There are so many more things you can be besides human.

This makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Firstly, good. People should be uncomfortable with the cruelty I endured and the marks it left. People should be uncomfortable that they probably participated in othering people as children, and maybe even still do it as adults, and they should be uncomfortable that society is raising their children to continue to do this. It is, in a way, a little bit like my pronouns being fuck/you, or examine/yourselves. Some of it's shock value, and I like that.

Secondly, the shit I get the most is from other trans people, saying I'm somehow harming the trans community because other people call us "its" as an insult. If someone were to call me a she, that is incorrect, and could be used as an insult- they're misgendering me, they're trying to hurt me. This is not the fault of the word "she" and I'm not going to go up to a trans woman and say "this word hurts me, so you cant use it. No more she/her pronouns for you." We are not all going to have the same comfort level with words. I don't like being called a dyke, but dykes do. Some people don't like being called queer, but lots of us do. Some people don't like being called it, but I do. Either way, I get to decide what I am called, and other people get to decide what they are called, and nobody else gets to veto someone's identity. If someone doesn't like calling me it? Then they don't have to talk to me. If they won't respect my pronouns, they're not any better than people who would call me she or her. I don't need their input or validation.

If you do decide to try out it pronouns, I would say be prepared for backlash, but also don't let it effect you. Block people liberally, joyously even. Don't argue. Don't bother. You do not have to justify who you are. And, consider "soft launching" your pronouns! Maybe tell a couple close friends, or just the internet, and if it goes well, expand to other people, and then other people. Roll it out in stages while you get comfortable and try things and assess. You don't owe anyone a coming out; you can decide if, when, how, and to whom you explain yourself, if you ever do it at all.

As an aside, I want to make a distinction here- I'm not otherkin. I don't say I don't count as human because I am some other type of creature just in a human body this reincarnation. This is not a spiritual belief, or even a psych-kin thing. This is purely a product of trauma, something that was foisted upon me that I am now reclaiming, not something innate to my identity. I don't want people to conflate my experience with that of otherkin and be like "see? you're not really [whatever], you're just traumatized!" I hope people will not use my experience to police other people's identities. I am speaking only for myself.

Hope this helps. If you have any more specific questions, feel free to reach out!

[remuswriting]

im here to terrorize your inbox and distract you from whatever you're doing but also rant about my writing

okay so i have three series going on and each of my main characters takes on a different version of me which is lame bc i should be able to write and create original characters yadda yadda. (i have ocs so it's fine)

my bnha one is the closest to me bc the mc is sappy but also anxious and awkward and walks the fine line between like "going off of the deep end"/ the darker parts of humanity like how people react to a corrupt society and being bullied, and mental illness. love and following your dreams. crushed dreams and the power to fight back against the oppresor. being unable to side completely with one person because the two of you have split paths and trying to find that place where you can meet. trans rights as well

my harry potter one is the part of me that is sweet and caring but still wants to fit in and desires friendship and the feeling of finally fitting in and not being ostracized. loneliness contrasting with the fact that there are aspects of yourself that make you stand out and how that can help your friends. and the power of choosing your own destiny (once again sappy). also gender expression and the spectrum of sexuality

my jujutsu kaisen one is the part of me that i keep reigned in: it's my love for those closest to me, found family and staying true to your desires. it's me without impulse control and a shitload of power. love friendship, sappyness that easily gets interrupted by hardship or the goody parts of life. frustration and rebellion against corruption. how sometimes the villain is right but because they're going about it the wrong way you might find ideology and desires conflicting

but also i feel like im not conveying them. they're there but none of them are the story of a century especially not to my readers.maybe im trying to hard or im coming off too casual/ witty but i don't want to make them dark and grueling to read. i wish i was as talented as you

First off: I didn’t know you could type that much in a Tumblr ask.

Second off: Everything I’ve typed makes no sense.

So, I’ve documented over 80 original characters I’ve created since like 2010/2011.  I’m pretty sure there’s more but they’re just on my desktop hard drive.  Most of their personalities have just been part of mine.  I also don’t think all of my characters (reader inserts included) are all that great.  I don’t do this as badly anymore but they still have aspects of my personality.  I could even explain for each one of them (except for Resentment and Next To You, I don’t see myself in them as much).

I know I say this a lot but I’m turning 22 this year and I’ve been writing since I was about 9 and writing fanfiction since I was 11.  I’ve just recently learned how to create characters where they are not 100% part of me.

When writing a character that is part of us, sometimes we make that character make the same decisions we would but that doesn’t always make for an exciting story.  We feel like we understand the character’s characterization entirely but we don’t really because we never really try to look at it.  We think that “well, they’re part of me, so I’ll know how to write it” but it doesn’t always work out like that.

If you want your story to be “the story of the century”, then figure out how you want to approach it.  Point of view is incredibly important because setting it up in a certain way will help the story be better (I guess that’s the word).  Point of view doesn’t just mean first, second, third but means who are we?

In my personal opinion, I like writing y/n as not the person we see everything through.  Yes, it’s important to learn how they feel and think but you can learn more from how someone reacts to those around them.  Or there’s setting up the stage where people have done their pov and then it’s y/n’s turn.  It paints a picture that you wouldn’t have if it was just y/n’s pov.  This is what I meant by pov.  Write first, second, or third all you want to but just figure out the angle you want to write it at first.

There’s nothing wrong with characters being part of you.  It’s nice to write them like that sometimes.  I think it’s more how you show your characters off that matters more than anything else.  I believe all of your stories will be the stories of the century, it just takes time.  Wait until they’re completed before you say they’re not.

I’m sorry that none of this makes sense.  I’m very tired.

[vesperstalksclones]

Girl, I saw your post and I wanna talk! I’m asexual, (and aromantic) and you have no clue how many dumb things people have assumed of me. ‘You’ll want to date/have sex eventually.’ ‘You’re just saying it to avoid the question.’ ‘That’s not even a thing.’ Like... what? I thought my family and friends would be supportive, but they don’t seem to think I’m being serious. It’s frustrating! What do you think bb? 🥺

I think in this case, and most others where people get judgey, people can't see beyond their own experiences and wants and needs. I have always promised to be honest with myself, about myself. Many people are afraid to do that.

Me, personally, I would love to ask you so many dumb weird questions just because I'm excited that you have a different lense than I do to view the world!

Case in point - I am a very sexual person. Lol, not like I want to fuck everybody or anything. I love the bodies of men and women. I enjoy the idea of two beings giving eachother pleasure. I have been lucky enough to experience physical love with another who cherishes me and worships me, and we just connect in a way that many people won't experience. Now, sex for me is very heavily tied in with emotional attachment. For me, if there is no emotional attachment, I'm not really interested in engaging because It won't be as pleasurable to me. The emotions drive my desires and passion. So without the emotion, I am about as excited over a person as I am over ... idk... let's say beets... getting my car washed... finding my favorite toilet paper on sale... meh

You, sweet little doll baby; we've had brief discussions about your asexulaity. Dude, ITS FINE IF YOU ARE NOT HOT TO TROT!!! Don't ever ever ever hand out your body (or your heart for that matter) if you don't absolutely want to! Most people say that you'll change your mind, because THEy want to date, have sex, etc and can't understand how you don't feel the same way they do. I read a thing once about how such behaviors are something we humans developed when we first settled in to villages so many many moons ago. If another being behaved the same as you do, dressed, ate, spoke, ... ehrm... mated... they they were safe, one of your circle. If they were different then they were an outsider and were to be shunned or were worthy of suspicion. People who are "different" make the average Joe uncomfortable because it might cause him/her to see something in themselves that they don't understand or doesn't quite fit with cultural "norms". The fear of being ostracized or punished by society for our differences is deeply ingrained in so many, and it takes a truly brave soul to exist outside of these norms. You can see how that has carried on through history, and we as humans have repeated this "us v. them" mentality so many times, with other cultures, religions, sexualities, languages, physical characteristics, etc. It is the uneasiness that comes from the unknown, and the unfamiliar. It stresses us out. A personal favorite quote I saw on a FB page I follow, (Viking heritage esque) says "Everybody wants to be a heathen until its time to do heathen shit". Going against the majority is scary.

Now, I feel the truest sign of intelligence in humans is not necessarily the IQ or the wealth of knowledge gained by study, but is actually displayed in someone having the ability to disassociate themselves and their inner thoughts and preferences from the situation. (I wonder... maybe this is dumb... would the people that doubt you also say to a gay person "you'll change your mind"? But I digress)

At the end of the day, it all boils down to respect in your fellow human. Your choices are yours. No one, even family, has any right to deny who you are, be it a choice or a genetic predisposition that you have. As long as you have found things in your life that make you happy and fulfilled, you don't have to live the same way as me! We will be good friends regsrdless. I wonder.... the next time somebody tells you how you'll feel eventually or comments on your lack of sexual relationships, can you ask "why is this so important to you?". Im curious about the answer.

Until then chickadee, own who you are. It makes you wonderful and unique! Consider how uncluttered our view of others could be if peen and pus pus weren't constantly in the middle of our thoughts? You'll have to share your view of the world more often. It will make us all richer.

Lol, I've waxed philosophical for a while here. I hope this makes sense, mostly I want you to know that this silly bitch on the other end of the tumblr screen accepts you as you are and enjoys you for it!! 😘❤