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vergilthelibrarian · 4 years

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Curiosity.

Part 2 to In Due Time

Serial Killer/Yandere!Jeno x FTM!Reader X Mark

Bitches be bored because of the quarantine. I’m bitches

Mark, my love, I am so sorry

Mark sighed as he hung up his phone.

Once again, you didn’t answer his call.

One day you just told him that you were cutting ties with him only to simply vanish.

He asked your family what was going on but they said you did the same thing.

It didn’t shock him that you would cut ties with your family though as some of the members in your family wasn’t accepting of you being trans but what shocked him was how you up and disappeared.

Mark checked with your job and your boss said you had quit on Tuesday, the day before you vanished.

He was concerned.

Very concerned.

Mostly because he remembers you talking about how your boyfriend Jeno was acting strange as of late. You said he was snappy and stressed, even angrily breaking a plate when you two got into an argument.

Mark had a feeling that Jeno was behind this but he didn’t know how to go about it.

He would tell the police his concerns but the cops here were practically useless in domestic violence cases, always blaming the victim about why they got their partner so angry.

Mark lean back into his bed. He wouldn’t lie, he thought Jeno was a good guy.

He seemed to really care about you, to genuinely be in love with you but the fact that you two were arguing before your disappearance made him believe there was something more going on, something sinister.

What if you were dead? Mark wouldn’t be able to handle of you being gone forever like that.

Putting his phone on his nightstand, he turned around in his bed, trying to fall asleep.

~~ Mark awoke to his alarm going off.

He stopped, got up from his bed and started to get ready for the day.

You were still on his mind.

Where were you?

You wouldn’t just leave like this.

Mark threw some clothes on, fixed his hair and left off to work.

Once he was at his job, which was a music shop, he went to the back of the store in the employees room and conveniently the radio was on.

“In breaking news, the dismembered body of a 19 year old woman by the name of Sue Lim was found in a trash can this morning. Detectives say that this seems to be the work of the Hatchet Killer. If you have any information on this case, contact your local police.” Mark gulped.

He thought the killings were over but apparently it wasn’t.

He knew Sue a bit. She would come over to the music shop to hangout with her friends. It was always heartbreaking when someone was a victim of a murder.

Mark prayed that her soul was a peace and that this killer would be stopped.

As much of a man of faith he was, he couldn’t help but wonder why God just let things like this happen. Why he’d let some people die in gruesome and horrid ways.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he took a deep breathe and left the back room, standing behind the register to start his day

~~ When it was his time to go, Mark left, saying goodbye to his coworkers.

As he was walking home, he stopped in place as his phone ranged.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he saw that the number was unknown.

He answered it.

“Hello?” “Mark! It’s so nice to hear your voice.” and his breathe hitched.

It was you.

“Y/n? Where are you?” he asked, his heart beating fast.

“I can’t tell you. Just don’t look for me okay. It’s for your safety.” Mark frowned.

“What do you mean? What’s going on? Is Jeno behind this?” he had so many questions.

“Mark, I know how you are. Just don’t look for me okay. Pretend that I never existed. Goodbye.” the call ended and Mark stood in frozen in place.

He couldn’t just not figure out what the hell your phone call was about now.

Now he felt he needed to find you.

~~ Mark took a week off of work, telling his boss a family emergency came up.

He was going to start his investigation now.

Sitting at his desk, he was on his computer, searching through your social media for anything cryptic. Anything that would give him a clue as to where you were.

He found a post on your blog that talked about how Jeno had found a house in the country side about 2 months before your disappearance. He thought that this could be a clue and decided he would go to the country side to look for you.

He had a week to find you but he started thinking more.

What would happen if he does find you? What if Jeno was there? Would he even be able to fight the guy? Jeno was a boxer and Mark couldn’t fight at all, so if he were to find you out there in the country side, how would he even save you?

Mark shook his head and decided that tomorrow he would rent a car and go to the country side to find you.

Before he went to sleep though, he wrote a letter explaining what he did and why just in case anything happened to him.

He didn’t know what he was getting himself into so he had no idea what would happen to him.

All he knew was that you were in danger and he wouldn’t to do something to try and help you.

He was in love with you after all.

~~ Mark made sure to take some of the pictures he had of you with him and as he drove, he thought of you.

You occupied his thoughts 24/7 since you left and all of it was filled with horrible scenarios of you being dead.

You were in trouble and he knew that Jeno was the reason, that was easy enough to figure out. But what he couldn’t figure out was just where you were.

Yes he was going to the country side to search for you but what if you weren’t even there and this was just some wild goose chase? His grip tightening the stirring wheel, Mark let out a sigh.

He just needed to have faith.

Seeing a farmers market, Mark drove into the dirt parking lot and parked the car.

He grabbed the pictures of you and left the car, making sure it was locked.

He went inside the farmers market, thanking God for the cool air and started asking the workers if they saw you, showing a picture of you.

The butcher was the only one who remembered seeing you with a muscular brunette the other day, commenting on how sad and docile you appeared.

“Do you have any idea of where they live?” “No. But if you don’t mind me asking, why are you looking for him?” “I can’t say much but he just means a lot to me.” was Mark’s answer. He didn’t want to out right say it was because you were missing and your boyfriend was acting strange.

“Well, if you need any help with your search, I can always help.” the butcher smiled and Mark smiled back.

Walking out of the farmers market and back to his car. He sat in the car with his door wide open, staring out into an open field.

So you were here…

Scratching his head, he jumped slightly when an old woman called out to him.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked and Mark nodded his head.

“Yes, I’m fine.” he answered and then a thought popped into his mind.

“Um, excuse me!” he said, getting up from the car. “I was wondering, have you seen this person?” he asked, quickly taking out a photo of you and showing it to the old woman.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her head, “Yes, I have. That’s Jeno’s sweet little husband.” she smiled and Mark eyes widen.

“Do you know where they live?” “Of course, they’re my neighbors! They live at 235 Houston Road. It’s a big blue house, you can’t miss it!” and with that Mark thanked the old woman and ran off to his car.

Driving away he made it Houston Road and saw a big blue house.

Before he was going to enter the house, he decided to text his friends and family, telling them he loved them and will always watch over them.

He felt a dreadful feeling staring at the house and as he got out of the car and headed towards it, the feeling became bigger.

Once he was in front of the door, he knocked 3 times and ranged the doorbell once.

To his surprise the door opened and you were the one who answered it.

“Mark?” “Y/n! Oh my god!” he said, grabbing into a hug and hugging you tightly. You hugged him back, missing his warmth and presence. You pulled away eventually and closed the door shut behind you.

“Mark, what are you doing here? How did you find me?” and Mark explained everything and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“Mark you have to go or he’ll hurt you.” “You’re talking about Jeno aren’t you? Come with me. I’ll protect you Y/n, I promise, just come back with me.” and you shook your head.

“I can’t, for yours everyone else’s safety I can’t leave. Mark, go back home before he comes back!” you pleaded with your best friend.

Before Mark could say anything, a car drove into the driveway and you felt your stomach drop.

Jeno was back home and you could see he was visibly pissed.

You pushed Mark, trying to get him to leave.

“Mark leave! Leave right now!” but Mark didn’t budge.

“Mark please! I don’t want you to die!”

Everything happened so fast.

One minute Mark was standing next you and the next minute he was tied up in a chair in the basement of the house and you were chained up to the wall where you were usually kept at for punishments.

Jeno cracked his neck and rolled back his shoulders.

He was feeling wonderful today but then Mark just had to ruin his day by trying to be your savior.

What did he think he was going to do? Rescue you? You didn’t need to be saved.

You were perfectly fine with him.

“Oh Mark,” he started. “You’re too smart for your own good. You know, I was gonna let you live but now… now I have to kill you.” Mark’s jaw clenched.

Jeno looked back at you, noticing how your head hung.

“Don’t be sad love. He had this coming. As they say, curiosity killed the cat but… satisfaction brings it back so maybe he’ll be satisfied knowing our little secret.” Jeno smirked. He walked closer to Mark, and leaned down, his lips skimming his ear. “I’m the Hatchet Killer.” he whispered and Mark gasped.

“N-no. You can’t be.”

“But I am and you Mark will be my first male victim.” Jeno laughed. Stopping, he leaned down once again, his face close to Mark’s as he said, “I am going to enjoy breaking you.”

#i was gonna write a detailed torture scene with implied smut but that might be taking it a bit too far...#i mean if y'all want a torture scene and implied smut just message me ^^#when you try to be the hero but end up dying oops #jeno x reader #jeno x male reader #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno x male reader #jeno x ftm reader #lee jeno x ftm reader #yandere jeno #yandere kpop #yandere nct #nct yandere

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wormssss · 4 years

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so. basically. tl;dr i ffuucking hate school it sucks and it doesnt. do ANYTHING but make things worse . anyway.

the schooling system like. it sucks for me specifically in a few ways idk abt anyone else. for starters; neurodivergency literally at all makes it so hard to function in a classroom environment. its so loud? idk if anyone else gets that in their classrooms but you can hear my class of 23~ from the bottom floor of the 3 story building and that’s considered quiet. as well as like, i cannot function in a classroom without my friends? im out at school and like.... everyones.. transphobic obv why wouldnt they be, and its not in like a..any avoidable way. if i sit with the guys they’ll refuse to talk to me and deadname me all period adn if i sit with the girls theyll laugh at me every time i fucking breathe idk, but the school still thinks putting me in a classroom with kids that visibly hate me and see me as a CRINGE ENTERTAINMENT IRONY MACHINE is like a good idea? and a good way for me to make friends? i dont know if its my luck or if they’re deliberately doing it, but, next term for example i have drama and cooking as classes. two of my friends also have cooking ....but they dont have me in their class. they’re together. but im not in their class. im on my own because other than them and the girl who already did cooking these past two terms (so she cant do it next term) i have.... no other friends. so im definitely in a class of complete strangers! and the way they have this school, you have no choice but to work with someone else in a cooking class...... you are paired with someone in the same mini kitchen and its a disaster but i digress.

also, like. school goes for 6 hours. by the time you get home and get changed and get settled, its sunset so you can’t go out and do anything. you can’t go to the park or climb a tree. youre stuck inside. your family is like groggy from work or whatever and doesnt want to talk to you. you have no energy to get online and talk to your friends online. or theyre asleep. so basically at least for me i get... no time to actually talk to my friends, for example i havent had an actual conversation with piper in like... two months i swear. we’ve forgotten how to talk to eachother and that actually goes with all of my friends. by the weekend we’re still awkward because we havent spoken in months so we can’t really even talk. and because of this rigid like, routine you have to have to actually be able to go to school at all (wake up 7. eat. get dressed. go to school. come home. get changed. eat. shower. go to bed. repeat), i actually like.... find myself. forgetting Everything. i dont know what it is about strict routine where i cannot be myself (my school has a strict and ugly uniform), but it makes me ... completely forget everything slowly and my memory decays. my time blindness gets worse to the point where i dont know what month it is on a regular basis and like... i ditch a lot? because of this? maybe if the schedule didnt make me dissociate and forget everything i wouldnt ditch constantly and like. actually go to school. but like my attendance is... im not at school 25% of the time because i physically cannot go every single day and attend to that rigid and exact cycle that doesnt even teach me anything

doesnt even teach me anything? i dont ... learn anything from school. they like. reteach the same meaningless part of a subject every single year. every year in religious studies in october i learn about the rosary and we spend a lot of the period praying the rosary and i like. ok. cool. its a religious school yeah but what am i actually learning from this. and every year in social studies we learn abt the waitangi treaty but the way they teach it is so whitewashed and utopian and its fucked and they teach it the same way every year around the same time. and anzac day. and in math im not going to use any of those skills you teach me, i dont care about algebra or anything because thats not really going to actually help me in my life im an artist for fucks sake teach me about managing my own finances! teach me how to do taxes! teach me how to function in the society i live in! teach me the important things that ill sink under or die without knowing i want to actually know important things but by cramming so many unimportant things in my brain all the time i forget the actual important things, i fucking failed basic addition and subtraction last year, i’ve forgotten division and multiplication past the 10 times table, but i can vaguely read an algebra equasion BUT FUCKING ALGEBRA EQUASIONS WILL NEVER UFCKING GET ME ANYWJERE!!!!! and it makes me so fucking angry i want to learn and function and KNOW

and the way they tightly bundle everyone to being one conforming individual who dresses like everyone else, is at the same intelligence level as everyone else, is a catholic like everyone else, does not question authority as everyone else or does not question themselves like everyone else or think like anyone else OR BE DIFFERENT THAN ANYONE ELSE makes me want to FUCKING THROW UP. there are so many hopes and dreams that i remember watching from primary school to now sink into a hopeless pit of stereotypes and basic conformity, people who used to be nice are suffocated into being horrible people so that theyre liked by their peers or get anny attention from the school at all, guys who used to respect women (god forbid) suddenly becoming horrible to anyone of any slightly different gender identity but you can actually see on their face how weird it is to them, waves of 11-14 year olds getting nose studs that get infected and they’re forced to have them taken out by the school, kids trying to do their makeup to look like SOMEONE to BE AT ALL DIFFERENT FROM ANYONE ELSE are put right back in their place and told to take it all off and their parents are called and if youre caught with the wrong jacket your parents are called and youre told youre too poor to wear what the school provides yet THEY DONT EVEN LET YOU WEAR WHAT THE SCHOOL PROVIDES WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS 70 DOLLAR HOODIE FOR WHEN YOU WONT LET ME WEAR IT WHILE IM SHIVERING I DONT SEE THE POINT OF ENFORCING SUCH TIGHT POINTLESS SMALL BOUNDARIES OF WHAT A PERSON CAN BE WHY IS IT SO LIMITED? are we not allowed to do anything? you cant even have one strip of hair dye yet a teacher can have a full head of bright purple hair what’s that about? you can have antisemetic pins on your senior year blazer jacket but the second you put a pride pin on there youre called to the principals office and asked why youre promoting this to kids

you try a speech on trans rights and they dont even pass you and pretend its because you got over the time limit but you didnt, you timed it yourself for your friends you didnt get over the time limit and you know it but you didnt even place in fourth you placed last out of 6 or 8 and you wonder why that is because every year in the past you soared into first so whats that about???? in my speech i said be yourself and dont be afraid to experiment with your gender lightly and they told me to take it out because its seen as too much and i said what the fuck? that’s the most important part of my speech, i want to promote acceptance in others and the self and they said take it out or you cant present your speech. they actively suffocate any sort of self expression or nonconformity of any sort you have to be a plain cookiecutter boy or girl and thats it you cannot be anything else, for nearly 6 months theyve fought me and my mom about my hair but if anyones being hurt by it its me because it draws more attention to the kid you can call slurs, are you hurt because im actually expressing myself? are you hurt by my little sharp stud earrings and my industrial piercing and the embroidered cuff on my shirt? are you offended by the heart on my belt or the platforms on my school shoes because the last time i checked none of these were illegal things to have at school

this kind of got a lot angrier than i meant to make it but ive been . really angry abt this for the past year idk. i really just wanted to write this because i ahvent spoken to piper properly in months and the way we talk now seems like when we just met but i cannot carry a conversation anymore because school knocked the wind out of me all over again and the sudden inability to talk to any of my friends online makes me want to scream until my lungs give out im so tired

#wormy yelling #long post /#negative /#serious /#emeto /#ask to tag #delete later

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werevulvi · 6 years

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I have recently come to the conclusion that I have to take a distance from helping trans people who seek my advice on whether they should transition or not, or whether they should detransition or not.

I'm making this announcement because I have many times been contacted by trans people asking me this, ever since I began my detransition, and always done my best to help, but it has been very hard on me. So lately I have at times done it despite it being too painful for me, and at other times politely told people I don't feel up for doing this anymore.

I very much feel grateful and honoured that you value my opinion to help you with your struggles, and I'd very much like to help you figure out whichever path is the right one for you, but doing so pours salt into my own, still fresh, wounds. That is not your fault in any way, and I don't not blame anyone for my pain at all. My pain is my responsibility, and so is caring for it. It's just that the more I dig into my own regrets and what went so terribly wrong for me, unable to change what happened to me, in order to help you avoid ending up making the same irreversible mistake that I did... it reminds me of what a fuckup and broken person I am, it reminds me of how horribly badly I betrayed myself.

I have never felt or gone through a grief as heavy and painful as this before. It's terrifying. It's everything I feared it would be and more. I don't even understand how in the hell I'm managing to survive this. And I do not know how or even if I will overcome it. All I can do is comfort myself, and allow myself to feel that pain. Try my best to cry when I can. Not be too hard on myself.

Just the sheer mention of top surgery makes me want to tear my skin off, crawl up into a ball and cry out how much I want my boobs back, until my existence stops being so god damn painful. I've struggled so hard to reconcile with my effects from testosterone as a detrans woman, and even though I became fine with them and ultimately decided to keep them, mentions of hrt still ties a knot in my stomach, cause I still altered my body unnecessarily and my transition in full still was detrimental to my mental well-being and something I simply should not have done in the first place.

I still sometimes feel broken although I know I am not actually. My body is not incomplete, a failed project or damaged goods. It still functions like a body is supposed to, it still looks like and is a human body, and it is also not ugly. I am not less of a woman for looking like a gender patch-work. I don't need to look my gender to be my gender. But it pains me when so many others (in general) completely disagree with me on all those points. I feel disfigured but I know my worth. I still feel like I made a horrible, devastating mistake by transitioning even though I have forgiven myself and no longer beat myself up for it. I know I made a mistake, but now let's move on and try to do the best of this terrible situation so that I can heal and feel good again.

I don't regret having been on T but I'm still going through a harsh struggle with being a visibly masculinised woman in society and when I look in the mirror but don't recognise myself. I do regret my top surgery and I feel terribly disconnected to the way my chest looks. I am looking into and feel hopeful about getting breast reconstruction surgery but my chest is still going to be surgically altered for life and there is no possible way for me to get my original breasts back. That I have to mourn. I worry about what my new breasts might look like, scarring, sensation, what would others who see them think? Would anyone even want to touch them?

I worry about dating. My sex life has taken huge toll. Dating while detransing is so many million times worse than dating as a trans man was, for me. I fail to even make my partners understand that I'm biologically female and that my genitals are natural. It hurts when they touch my parts yet still can't even tell they're natural, and when I sense their hesitation and disbelief. Or when they tell me it's a shame I got my boobs removed but that it "doesn't look too bad" while keeping their hands far away from that part of my body. It makes me feel wrong, gross and it hurts. I withdraw. Yearning for intimacy but unable to perform. I can't do it.

I may not have dysphoria anymore and I may love my body and all it's lovely femaleness, but as you see that is not enough to make me happy or in a comfortable place in life. Detransition for me is very much a two-sided coin in which my lack of dysphoria, forgiveness and self love is the bright side - and my grief, regret, pain and social struggles are the dark side.

I'm telling you all that painful personal crap because it has everything to do with why I can't help you discover yourself without hurting myself in the process, and because I want to share it. It pushes all of my buttons. I don't know if it makes sense or if it's understandable, but "being a trans man" was an escape mechanism for me, the biggest escape mechanism I've ever lived my life behind, and letting go it left me far more naked and vulnerable than I have ever been before. But it was also not the only escape mechanism of mine that I've recently let go of. I'm very traumatised and have lived my whole life through various escape mechanisms to simply survive. It's just recently I've found enough courage and tools to manage letting go of that self-defense escapism and deal with my traumas. Me thinking I was a man and transitioning was the most profound and most damaging after-effect my traumas had on me. I'm currently in a very intense healing process of recovering. And not to be "like that" but I'm probably in a bigger need of therapy right now than you are, whoever you may be. But most of all I just need more time to let my new, fragile skin thicken and strengthen.

However, it helps me to reflect on my transition and detransition on my own terms and in my own pace, as it helps me reconcile with my past choices and forgive myself for the mistakes I've made. But it pains me to tell another person that if they think transition is right for them and if they've gone through all their doubts, then they should probably do it. Cause my heart just keeps screaming inside me towards that person that "please don't end up like me!!!" but yes, my heart is an irrational blob of tears that is incredibly self-focused at this point and acts like a hurting, undisciplined child. Please excuse its wailing, it really has nothing to do with you. But I struggle more and more to contain it.

Though I know I have good advice to give to people in that sort of situation without swaying in either direction because of what I would have wanted for myself, and that I have helped many already, so I might try to make somewhat of a "masterpost" and possibly also a video about it (but I only have 15 min per video so that might be hard). In that way I could still continue to help others but without depleting myself in the process. I would then make it as ridiculously comprehensive as I possibly could, and put a lot of work into it. Not only include general stuff but also things that I've been asked more rarely and/or may only be applicable to a few, and sort it up into sections and categories and what not. Of course it still can't possibly be applicable to every single person asking themselves if to continue or take another path, but I'd try to make it applicable to as many as possible.

Not today, but at some point in the future when I might feel up for it. Cause I do still care to help, I just have to put myself and my own healing first right now.

#personal #announcement #detransition #helping trans people in my detransition #im depleted #self care comes first #cw my feelings

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moomooblackshep · 5 years

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My dysphoria

Well... I'm 26 and so very fucking trans. Ftm. Pre everything. Fuck. It finally makes sense. For the longest time I've always identified as a crossdresser when much younger and then gay as a teen. As gay I've been out to most of my friends, took a while to come out to the family. I hate the word lesbian because it's a label that just doesn't fit and now this. I've only told my closest friends about the trans thing right now. Hopefully I can tell my mom about it later on when I finish my schooling again. Be warned this is long to whoever reads this.

The community has been very visible lately, YouTubers are also getting in on that band wagon. Media over all is so vocal about it now. Also, my mother used to watch a lot of trans surgeries for a solid year and would make me watch it with her. Those were disturbing but dear God like a train wreck I couldn't look away. It wasn't the surgeries that made me realize but they did open up my mind about researching and just looking into what trans is. Looking back there are many red flags. My dysphoria was generally supressed. I remember when I was young, around 10, I considered myself a crossdresser. I was new to the internet then since we just immigrated to Canada and I couldn't stop reading psychology books, journals, articles, anything I can get my hands on to put a label on what I am. I didnt make sense so I settled for something that seemed the closest thing I could find, crossdresser. I internalized that and moved on. We also didn't have much money at the time so I started wearing my brothers clothes and it felt right. Prior to moving into a new country my clothes consisted of dress like uniforms for school and shorts and t-shirt for home/play clothes. My classmates here then started asking me why I dress in boy clothes and I always said I was a crossdresser. They'll have a look on their face but I wasn't making a big deal out of it so they didn't either. I was also the kid that's good at art and I used to give them away a lot when done which people always wanted for some reason. I was also pretty calm and just took a lot of things at face value so people knew they could tell me whatever and I won't freak out, it apparently helped because I was told a hella amount of secrets. Graduation came and yearbooks were signed. Some even said I was the coolest crossdresser they knew and that hopefully everything worked out for me. Then highschool hit and suddenly the whole gay thing cropped up. I realized I didn't like boys early on. It was weird. Everyone tells me that I should and that I have to but I knew I didn't like boys like that at all. When I was younger still, by the pics probably as young as three maybe five, I had a playmate that everyone and their grandmother keep saying that he's my boyfriend. As far as I remember I've always denied it. I had mostly boy playmates but the few girls around I always took special care to make them feel included or give them attention. I didn't understand them. I didn't know why they liked only certain games like the dancing, skip rope, the make up or why they prefer dresses or various things I can't even remember now. I always chalked it up to my two older brothers will beat anyone up that doesn't include me in their games or are mean to me. It was a small enclosed neighborhood. My brothers were in the older crowd and knew everyone being 7 and 9 years older than I was. It still didn't make it any less confusing to me tho. I questioned a lot of things but no one would give me answers or they'll just ignore me. It didn't help that my mother always said disparaging things towards gays. Things about religion and how shameful it is. I don't want to get into it but I ended up internalizing it. We're also Catholic so the Catholic values of how we are in God's image, we should treat everyone as how we would treat ourselves and how God loves us clashed horribly with what she was saying sometimes. I was confused for a while but I tried to rationalize it myself and came up with "he's (the gay man my mom criticized and the only gay person I knew growing up) happy, he seemed comfortable with himself, he's not hurting anyone, he seems like a good person. So I said to myself that if he's all that then it's okay. It's his life and it's his choices. But even when it's okay for him to be gay I knew I wasn't allowed to be gay because of the homopobia my family was showing. I was probably around 7-8 at the point when this all went down. This is also why I stay away from church now. The hypocrisy is something that gets to me but I have my faith and I just try to live as "good" as I can while still being human. I'm probably missing a lot of the stuff because I don't remember much of my childhood. Anyways, that's the internal homophobia and why I couldn't be comfortable with it until later on in my life. By the time highschool rolled around I've immersed myself into the internet and have accepted my love for the female form. Also porn and Anime was a great motivation for an asian teen. Went to an all girls school for highschool, met my best friend in grade nine and proceeded to date her the following year. We lasted all of highschool but I knew I wasn't the best gf at the time or ever. We broke up because she was moving on to better things and I was lost and not going anywhere, I wasn't gonna hold her back to not experience stuff, so we split amicably. We're kind of friends still and adulting sucks. On that note, my dysphoria. In all honesty I never took it as that because my mental and emotional coping mechanisms are suppression and distraction. Anyways, as a kid I always envied the boys. They're always portrayed as being stronger, bigger, the hero, they seemed to have more freedom. As a kid I wanted that. Everyone treated me like such a delicate girl when I didn't feel like a girl at all much less delicate. I was a crybaby sure but that was because my brothers teased me relentlessly and the only time they'll stop at all is if I cry. I wasn't allowed a lot of freedom for expressing myself either because it was met with indifference or anger from my family so I had to figure a lot of things out by myself. Mom isn't the most affectionate or vocal person about feelings either so it's just been me for a long while. Looking back it was a steady progression and the feeling of helplessness that I can't change my sex. It permeated my entire being so I supressed and distracted myself and accepted that I can't do anything about it. Until I was 10 I tollerated the dress ups mom used to put me in, the expectations of being a girl was just another duty I had to uphold as the "youngest daughter" even the long hair was a point of annoyance for me. It was grown past my butt and I hated every second of it. I used to bug mom to get shorter hair, to have a cut like the guys and she gave in once when I caught her on a good day and she cut it to my shoulders. I was happy. It was a step in the right direction. Now if only I can get pants and a dick I'd be happier. Fast forward to puberty and lord was that a thrilling ride. Labelled myself as crossdresser in elementary and now Im gay leaning to Butch lesbian in highschool. Fuck I hated that but again it was another thing I had to tollerated because I couldn't change my sex. I knew transexuals existed mostly I thought that only applied to effeminated men. Aka gay men crossdressing. It didn't connect in my brain that women can be transexuals too. I thought they were just butch/ stud women. I was sheltered and very big on the internal homopobia okay. Now, highschool brought more insecurities. My chest grew like what it does during puberty. I wasn't happy about that. I was a chubby kid but fuck that was such a bad time. I hated them. I strapped them down as much as I can with tape or ace bandages, we had med kits everywhere, when that didn't work I'd wear something to try and flatten them or super baggy clothes. Also I had smaller bras than what I needed so it made them smaller. Had to hunch to hide them. I couldn't figure out why girls bought lingerie for them or why the hell they show it off. I forget a lot that people don't feel what I feel and that I'm not normal. Even with me wanting my chest to be gone but mostly be more male type I also wanted bigger shoulders, a few more inches in height (I'm 5'6), a deeper voice, my jaw and cheeks to be chiseled like the males I see in media. Yeah that was a trip into a rabbit hole. When I was younger I wanted to be like the guys in anime with the body builder like body, the voice, the heroism, the super powers because it's anime and surprisingly how they get the loyal girl. I learned all the chivalry because I always see myself as the guy in the relationship. Flowers, compliments, do nice things even if I don't say my feelings, open a door, pull out a chair, make a girl laugh. Then being a bit older still made me want all those things but now I have certain preference for girls, I wanted to be tall dark and handsome. It's more about being debonair with chivalry thrown in together and having adventures with my partner. It just became more age appropriate as time went on. It was all so confusing but I took the idea and ran with it. I couldn't change my sex? Fine. I'll suppress the need to cry and the depression until I can be free to be myself. Also known as me living by myself. I was terrified of what my family will say and how they'll react. They tried hard to make me girly during highschool and I just repeatedly said no. I never said I was a boy but I saw the need for them to turn me into this girl that I've never felt I was. I hated it. Then I fixated on the aspects I can change. My hair, the way I dressed. How I presented myself. I didn't change my pronouns or name because while I didn't like it it was negligible in the whole. There wasn't much to change to begin with since I already dressed as a male most of the time. Crossdresser in elementary remember. Wasn't much of a shock to the family really, just more annoyance cuz I took my brothers clothes. I sound like I hate everything but aside from a few things that I just glaze my eyes over now I'm pretty laid back and chill. It's just the way I present myself that really gets to me. Ive never given a fuck on why or how others percieved me aside from my family. 15/16 was a rough time. Suicidal thoughts started and escalated. I started self medicating in that I took up smoking cigarettes and weed to dissociate from everything. For a while it worked. Suicide was very close to happening, had it all planned out but when I came home mom was weirdly home. Once we were in Canada my brothers disappeared mostly because of college/uni and work. Mom was the same, she had three jobs at one point to cover all our expenses and Dad hasn't been in the picture for a long while. But yeah, mom was home in a rare off day. We somehow watched a documentary or a show that had suicide in it and she started talking about it. Could've knocked me over when she said that she wouldn't know what to do if she ever found us, mostly me, like that. How she would be devastated and everything. Things like that. It fucking threw me for a damn loop. But I was fucked up and that night I just kept writing and writing and writing until the sun was up and I had to go to school. When I came home no one was there again and I just broke down. My emotional instability, my hopelessness that I can't have the body/sex I want and need, my loneliness, thinking that my family doesn't love me just finally broke me. So I cracked. I cried and I screamed and I just fucking let go. At one point the neighbours even knocked on the door to see wtf was happening. Wiped my face, plastered a smile and said I was practicing for drama class and sorry that I bothered them. I had drama anyways with a play that year so when the neighbours brought it up with mom it was a solid excuse. After that the supressing habit became so strong that for example when I glance at my chest it just disappears from my mind that I even looked at them. There are days where I'm 100% okay with them ( or any part of my body that I can't deal with)for several minutes and I'll look at them and inspect them then later on I'm back to trying to find something to strap them down because the anxiety and panic is back that I don't have the right body. Once the break down was over I couldn't function for days. The dysphoria and depression just consumed me so I figured I needed to do what I needed to do. I cut myself off from that part of me emotionally and mentally. I hid it and I ran. I distracted myself with bad relationships,bad friends, the drug habit kicked up and I even became entangled in the crowd I never wanted to be in. I was a mess and as long as there was something else to worry about I didn't have to deal with myself. It worked for a long ass while but I was never happy. I've never felt joy after that breakdown. I had some contentment but that was it. The lows were manageable because once it starts I pick up a new thing to distract myself. Adult me discovered binders, bought a bunch of them with my first credit card. I was 18/19 and in college. I couldn't wait for it. Finally! I get to have a flat chest. They came and I couldn't be happier. I wore them every day from the time after I shower to just before I slept. Sometimes my mom would wake me to go to the store and I'll throw it on before my clothes. For a solid two years I wore it like my second skin. I went out to my first drink with my second brother with it on. Went to a gay club and picked up someone with it on. Worked in it even though that was a bad time. I was confident as hell. I was finally a step closer to myself. I was mistaken for a guy more often than not and that was fantastic. Then the inevitable happened. I lost them when my mom raided my room with no warning to clean it because it wasn't up to her standards and took all my laundry. I was frantic in looking for them. I was desperate. I kept asking mom where they are. I only ever got one of them back but I went into such a depressive state that shame and guilt and self doubt/hate came crashing back down on me and I couldn't wear it anymore. I went on a drinking bender at that point and I moved out at 20. 21 and I became an alcoholic for the next year. The truth that I'm stuck in this body slapped me so hard I slipped. I dropped out of college, drank from morning till night, was even drunk when I was at work. I just slipped. It was so easy but in the end I had to pick myself up. My family didn't notice much. Just that I was never home and mom and I had a blow out because she expects me home when no one is even home. When there's no food in the house because I didn't know how to cook at the time. She also kept pushing if I was gay and i admitted it. I was never gonna be ready so I just sucked it up and said it even though it felt wrong. Let me be clear as a transman man I'm not gay but right now I'm still seen as a cis woman. Im pre everything so I will, for now, say I'm gay. However, I'm a man trapped in the body of a woman and there is not much I can do until I start transitioning. After that horrible dip in my emotional instability I stopped binding. I just picked up shitty girlfriends after shitty girlfriends. Girls who were selfish and immature and made it all about them without giving back to me. I got stressed over that instead of my body and managing them is more doable than my body. Don't get me wrong I could've dropped them any time since I knew what I was getting into. My need to run from my dysphoria intensified my so called "need" to have them around. Did I love them? No. They were a means to an end and a way to distract myself. Have I ever loved any of them? I did love my first girlfriend but I never gave her what she deserved. When she broke up with me I was sad but I knew that she needed to grow into the person she wanted to be. I wanted her to find happiness even though it wasn't with me. So I let her go. Not completely tho. We're ish friends and I'd rather have that than nothing at all. At 24 I went back to school to finally graduate college. I picked up another shitty girlfriend for 7 months and 2 months after I ended my last relationship. My best friends just laughed and shook their heads at me because they can't believe I'm doing it again after I'm trying to get my shit together. But that was the last relationship I went into. The trans community started being more visible then. Acceptance for LGBT+ was at an all time high. Mom and I were okay. Things were looking up. Me being single was terrifying because I slowly started to unpack all my issues. I had supportive friends who won't leave me, my family is okay with me, I lived alone for a while but came back to mom's because her house is closer to the school and they've been trying to get me to move back in for the last four years. At 25 I just started unpacking and unpacking and unpacking and dear God the amount of issues I had to resolve with myself was a fucking lot. But the biggest is my dysphoria so I researched and read and watched a ton of vids to finally come to the conclusion that I'm trans. I'm trans not because I hate my body but because I believe I'm in the wrong one. It's terrifying to know that because there's no immediate remedy. I'm trapped and the process to switch is long, expensive and not permanent in a way I won't ever have the biological markers without outside influence. Having biological kids will be an issue too but I've always thought that I would never give birth to one, I've always assumed that I would adopt or somehow one of my friends will make me the guardian for theirs if they ever pass away. I've never felt compelled to have one of my own. A family yes but I would love any child in my family whether it's biological or someone else's. At 26, just had my birthday last month, I'm contemplating transitioning in the next year or so. I still have issues to work through but I think when I talk to a psychiatrist or counselor I would be okay. It's a lot to consider and I need to be sure it's the right way for me. In all honesty I'm pretty sure I'll transition. I've waited long enough I can wait a little longer to make an informed decision.

To whoever is reading this just know that it was hard and difficult journey for me but if you can accept the situation even just a little, enough to get you through until you can deal with it financially, emotionally and mentally it gets easier. Self hate is a very heavy burden to carry I wish it could be easier but youre a stronger person for it in the end. It helps to focus on other things to build your life. Finish school, have a good job, maybe a relationship because if you focus too much on the dysphoria once it's taken care of you will still have life in general to deal with and it's good to have the ideal life you want ready for you because you built it and you changing your body is the last piece to make it perfect.

#Long story #trans #ftm #my dysphoria #seriously it's fucking long #basically my entire life

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fuck-customers · 7 years

Text

Tl;Dr I worked with the worst person I or anyone else may ever know...

This is a long, epic of a Fuck co-worker story. So let me begin to tell you all about the worst person I had ever met in my entire life, and my experience in hell working with him. When I was hired in, i didn't think much of him. He was loud, kind of obnoxious, but I didn't think anything horrible. My opinion changed entirely very quickly. For starters; this guy was 19. 3 years younger than me at the time I was hired. My manager showed me the ropes, and I was in charge of cleaning the cafe of the gas station, for the most part. There was a chore list for both registers, listing all the jobs of each shift. I would go about doing my chores exactly like I was shown by the boss lady. This kid would start giving his two cents on what I was doing whenever i was doing something... I was doing it wrong. I should do it like this. Like that. Like this. It was annoying at first, but I sucked it up because I don't want to cause drama in the work place. It kept happening for weeks. Then he moved onto doing my dishes for me. I figured alright, I get a break from dishes. But then he makes me do the outside trashes, and chores listed for his register, that should have been done earlier in his shift, (I am a mid shifter. I come in later and leave at midnight) and then still a bunch in my own chore list. I hated the trash, but a break from scalding my hands in dish water was alright... It was not alright, though. I heard from my other co worker that it wasn't my job to do the trash outside, or the other things he told me I had to. He just pushed his responsibilities onto the new hire. So boss talked to him, and that was that for now... then the trash stopped being done, as well as his other chores that he was making me do. I went about my way doing my chores while chatted up the customers, talking about himself, giving weird and unsoliscited compliments to girls of all ages, just schmoozing and making everyone uncomfortable. He would go on and on about himself, telling the same stories, trying to force pity out of every single customer. He would say stuff like he couldn't afford lunch today, when just earlier he would brag about his social security check being 600$, and about his new Dr. Dre speaker pill. (He worked full time and got 600$ ssi... for "bi-polar." As someone with Borderline, aspergers, depression, severe anxiety, and other shit combined into a cocktail of insecurities and dysfunction, I was disgusted that he was bragging about it while I could barely even work 3 days a week without a massive meltdown... this guy didn't help.) Anyway. His chores would not get done, and he just hammed it up to people who were visibly repulsed. (Whenever he went on break people would come up yo me like "Thank god he isn't here, I didn't want to check out with him." Both men and women. He would shoo male customers away to flirt with the women. Even women who were there with their boyfriends. He would say classic neckbeardy things, ask ladies about thier boyfriends, and then complain to us that these bitches go only for jerks and that he is such nice guy. In the summer he would also make comments about how hard it was working when he kept getting boners watching little girls in shorts... He was so gross, and no customer liked him. For good reason, as you can tell by now..) So when boss confronted him about it, my good co worker friend overheard.... Now. I let my work place know up front that I have aspergers. It's not an excuse or a crutch, I just want people to understand me a little better. He blamed my aspergers for his work not being done. He said "I couldn't leave her alone at the register!" And my boss didn't do anything about his remarks. Just told him to do his shit... He never did. And I never did anything for him. I confronted him about it next time I worked with him because I was offended and livid that he said that. I was nothing but friendly, even though he rubbed me the wrong way. He started insulting me. Calling me unprofessional for bringing this into work, saying I was unfit and incompetent, and how i shouldn't bring personal stuff into my job. After that exchange I was holding back tears, albeit not very well. I wanted to die inside. After that I ignored his existence. Whenever he said something to me, I wouldn't reply, I didn't care if he didn't do his shit, I just kept my head down and did my own work. He kept blaming me to everyone we worked with.... And that hate rubbed off on another co worker too. (She complained about me not doing my job while simultaneously complaining that I only did the cafe area... that I was hired in to do. She also straight up told me she would hate to have a child with autism. That hurt too. But I feel bad for her brother... Who kept calling him her sister. He is trans and she said, and I quote, "I don't see her as a man until she grows a pair of balls.") I wish it ended there, but I had a wedding to attend in PA for my aunt. I requested two weeks off so I could head up there and have time with my family. He didn't like that. The day I was scheduled to come back he turned the grill on as high as it could go, piled on hotdogs and taquitoes, scorched the hell out of them, squeezed out all the fats and fillings, threw that food away when it was all dried out, put new food on the grill to do the same, and bragged about it to the good co worker... She told me about it and it took 2 hours to scrape clean... I was just on vacation. And he did that. I tried to get a petition going around listing everything he had done since he started because he has done all that, and countless more things, even racking up as many points it took to get fired, but all the store director did was tell him "Try not to do anything else and you can stay." He even made sexual remarks about another employee, and after she turned him down he spread lies to customers saying she was a slut... for not dating him... (Girls he went to school with would talk about him, too. One said he spread a lie in highschool after she got strep throat and had to miss school, he said that she got sick from giving so much head. After she turned him down, also, might I add.) One night when this girl worked with him, the good co worker was there, too. He wanted to punch out, but they refused to let him until he did his chores. How did he respond? This 6'7 behemoth grabbed this 5 foot tiny girls atm and twisted it behind her back until she was on the ground crying. Good co worker got him to stop and told the store director, but the girl quit after that night and refused to say anything after. Physical harm to another employee? That wasn't the straw that broke the camel's back. What was? He hit on an 11 year old girl. Mama bear came barging in and cussed his ass out and then called corporate. Store director came in and escorted him out. I and everyone else was relieved that this cancer was finally gone! Even customers came in smiling. Every other one said they finally felt safe to shop here again. Tales spread of his reign of terror finally ending... He applied to other gas stations but one of my friends who works at one of them down the road said that as soon as they read his name that they threw out his resume. (This kid is also banned from the chain sub shop in down. Which is honestly hilarious. This isn't even everything that he has done or said, either. He would always brag about his body. Or his future job that would get him over 200k a year. Etc;... How he got transferred to the Gas station is another story, as well as when he first worked for the store itself and begged for a job again. He is also a die hard Trump supporter, and was incredibly transphobic to a transgirl that worked with us, too. He was a menace ) Though he still comes into my gas station and talks to the newer employees like he is such hot shit... But I tell them the truth. (He still can't find work even after a year. I'm glad.)

#trigger warning #submissions #happy ending #fuck co-workers #fuck coworkers #fuck managers #submission

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