#Had to redo this post because it wanted to get rid of itself and college internet lolz

[washington-elijah]

About to post this to facebook for my f a m i l y)

(Some stuff here may sound contradictory, but as my thoughts are constantly scrambled this will have to do for now.)

2020 is a new year and decade. I've lived now, for a little over 19 years, shutting my emotions and thought processes out from other people because no one ever seemed to understand me, or even take me seriously. (Wow cliché statement, I know.). I was always either overdramatic, melodramatic. My feelings weren't good enough because it always seemed to fall under the “you're generation this” or “you Millenials that” So here I will go and start right off the bat and say everything I've been trying to get out for a few years now and haven't been able to. I understand the backlash I may get, but I feel it may simply prove my point to myself even more and I don't even know what that point is.

There are only a few people that do not make me feel like a failure of a person for being unable to simply “get over it”. It, being my depression and my anxiety. If I could simply throw it all to the wind, I would believe me. What people do not see is how far I actually have progressed. I would never have even posted something like this before, let alone thought of it. I don't audibly depreciate myself as much as I used to, though some people make me feel like I should? Not that I want to. I love loving myself to an extent for once lol. So how about I simply start off and let you know EXACTLY how I felt for a good portion of my life.

(Let's keep it to what I can remember, 10 to about 17-18 years old)

I hated myself. Nothing was ever good enough, not one thing. Too friendly, too open, not open enough, not smart enough. Funny thing though, I was great in school UNTIL people started getting on my case to keep my grades PERFECT. That and my onset of anxiety and depression caused by bullying from peers and mentors alike. Trauma is not always some horrific thing that happened in life, it can be a built-up response that happens over time. Especially for a kid who couldn't talk to people. Especially for a kid who barely had any friends, and was ignored outside of school. That really never stopped. But oh well, Wonder why I spend so much time on my phone?

“Oh just go talk to people and make friends!” Guess what? I do, they just don't stay in contact, even when I initiate. But I'm over that, I don't need 500+ friends to make me happy. I still find talking to people hard now, and I don't know why. I either overshare, or get too friendly, or both. I'm overzealous or under enthusiastic. It really wasn't until a few years ago (maybe 2015-16) that I stopped giving a shit. Like really, nothing I ever did would be good enough for anyone other than myself, so why not just go ahead and only focus on how I felt for once. It's okay to be selfish once in a while. Especially when all you ever worried about, and tend to still worry about, is how it would make everyone else feel.

At this moment in time, there's still the thought in my head that everyone is holding me to the standard of needing to be absolutely 100% perfect. I should be making my own appointments and talking to my own officials and all that jazz. How so when I don't know how? When no one ever taught me or gave me a chance to try it myself or even just walked me through it? Most of the time I'm shooting in the dark for this sort of thing ^_^”

Now, the anxiety is something I cannot get over. Especially when much of it has been YEARS in the making and caused in some form by those telling me to just get over it. Not to mention, after high-school I kinda was just thrust into the college life. I'd had plans on how I was gonna do all of that, and now I'm trying to figure something out to actually fit college into this. But that's my fault, isn't it? Should have been more open in the first place, something I had always gotten backlash for doing in the first place. I wanted to take a year off, get my mental bullshit in check. Not get rid of it, by this point I can't, but at least get a better grasp of it. Just to handle it a bit better, and THEN thrust myself into more school. I'm grateful for the help and support I have, but sometimes I just feel rushed in nearly everything.

Here's another fun one, Why do I procrastinate? This one I have a solid answer for. Because I'm a perfectionist who's stuff is never good enough and I don't like cleaning when people are around. Who does something immediately if I don't have it planned out in my head A-Z right that very moment? (Bad process, but it's been ingrained). I don't clean when people are around because there was also that engrained bit. It was never good enough, I'd have to redo it, I wasn't doing it right, and so on. (Despite what may be said, I actually have gotten better with that too.)

Math just sucks in general, so imma leave that there.

Now here's a big one. My status on being transgender. There's a lot of stuff people don't seem to understand about that either. My brain itself sends signals to stuff that isn't there. I'm extraordinarily uncomfortable in a female body. You see, us big bad transgenders have a package deal, we get to figure out we weren't put in the right body, but we have to deal with this thing called dysphoria. It's a painful awareness that you aren't built right yet. A hyper-awareness of parts. It isn't fun at all.

And yes, I will be a very feminine looking boy until I get this lil thing called hormones.

No, my current hormone level has nothing to do with being trans.

No, me giving letters as coming out to those I live with was not melodramatic. I say this because there are so many bad stories and visual evidence of people disowning their kids for this. People who never gave ANY indication that they would do something like that. Be it just a verbal thing, or even physical. Those who have accepted me, thank you. I appreciate you guys so much you don't even know. To those who have wished me well, thank you. To those who haven't accepted it, oh well. I'm not hanging onto the negativity this year, and that is my choice.

Becoming independent is going to be difficult because I was raised in a way that I felt I had to be totally dependent on others. And I hold no animosity to that, but I can't just drop everything I know and be a perfect adult. If you want me to be successful you need to give me time. I already have a plan, and I don't need to share it. We're all only human and I'm gonna be making the most of my life, in a way that I want to (within reason.)

I love my family and friends, but I also love myself, and if that means having to be a “cliche” or “petty” person online to be able to actually unscramble the words that won't come out of my mouth, then I will. This year, my mental health comes first for me. This year, I come first for me. And as it being something I have never done before, I might slip up, but I'll get back up and keep on going. I'm not softspoken, I'm not okay with being told who I am gonna be or where I'm gonna go based on how I identify or work. I believe firmly that I can be successful this year. But I don't think other people do.

Anyways, happy new year and let's have a good 2020! I love you all a lot, don't think I don't. This will probably be worded better and expanded on in the future, but this is all I have for now.  

[nautiscarader]

Smutember 2017 - day 14, Role-play, Max/Roxanne (Goofy movie/Goof troop)

(<< Prev) (List of prompts) (My fanfiction masterpost) (Next >>)

(Read on Ao3) (Read on FF)

All characters are 18+

As two college graduates, Max and Roxanne keep finding interesting ways to spice their nights.

Chosen by the dirty mind of: Anonymous

Also, PSA: I’m redoing my masterpost, since the abundance of links (usually three per story) has kinda broken it, so it might not be up to date. 

In his small, dimly lit, messy flat, Max's bed was creaking every time his hips jerked, as he pushed himself deeper into his glamorous, half-naked co-worker. The flames of her red hair were spread around her head like a halo, making her presence in his humble abode even more mesmerising experience. Not an hour ago, he offered her drive home, from the bar she was sulking in, but things turned quickly when the alcohol in her veins took control over her body and mind. And before he knew it, Max was living a dream, making love to Roxanne, staring into her moaning face that just this morning was on every television screen in the country. But in this moment, she was his, and nothing was going to take her away from him.

It became a tradition of some sort, after a few first unsuccessful job interviews, for Max and Roxanne to role-play the positions they were aiming for, mostly to get rid of the uneasy feeling of unemployment problems. But even after they both found jobs, they still liked to pretend they were someone different, imagining how sex could sneak its way into their fictional workplaces. It broke the monotony that could always sneak up onto them, and gave them motivation to pursue some of their kinks and desires they wouldn't be able to try if they were just themselves.

After they spotted a TV crew outside their apartment block earlier that day, the rest of the scenario wrote itself. Tonight, Roxanne was an intrepid reporter, trying her best to outsmart others and arrive first, wherever the news would broke; Max play the role of her faithful cameraman, who followed her everywhere, and unbeknownst to her, would follow her anywhere, as he was madly in love with her.

Roxanne cupped the face of her lover, stroking it with her thumb, as he continued plunging himself into her. Since the alcohol was still buzzing in her head, trying to touch his rapidly moving face turned out to be a bit more difficult than she imagined. At least she was with someone, she thought. The decision to sleep with her friend was a spur of the moment, but with every move of his, she regretted the dubiously ethical choice less and less, especially when he incorporated his fingers into his repertoire, flicking her clit every now and then.

- Come on, Max, how long have you been wanting to do this? Months? Years? - she teased her friend, between her sharp intakes of air Even though every muscle in his body shouted at him not to do this, Max stopped pounding her, leaned over her, staring into her surprised, glistening eyes, and uttered the words he's been trying to say for nearly half a decade. - Ever since I looked at you through the lenses... - Max huffed - Why do you think I followed you everywhere, from a bloody tornado to a sandstorm? I love you, Roxanne...

Suddenly, in one moment, Roxanne remembered every single time her friend fixed her hair, a few seconds before they went live; every bit of fast-food they ate in their van during breaks; every time he consoled her after a date that went wrong. And she saw in his eyes the truth he's been keeping secret.

- Oh, Max... She reached her arms and pulled Max into a deep, watery kiss. If she was drunk before, she sobered up instantly, as the world around her quite literally rocked and swirled when they rolled back and forth. His hands traversed her back, taking off her blouse that remained the only part of her attire. Suddenly, to Max's great disappointment, she broke the kiss, and moved aside, seemingly as if she wanted to get out of the bed. A moment later, however, she stretched and reached into Max's bag, exposing her gorgeous back to him in full glory. She turned around, carrying a portable video-camera, one he would always bring with him, just in case he'd spot something worth capturing on tape.

- You know, I've been blind for so long... This moment really deserves to be remembered, don't you think? She fluttered her eyes, and without waiting for an answer, she placed the camera on the night stand next to his bed, once again, giving Max a stunning view of her naked behind. The familiar red light of the recording blinked at the same time when Roxanne moved back to her position, spreading her legs as an invitation for her new boyfriend.

- So, shall we continue?

In an instant, Max entered her again, pushing her body deep into the sheets and pillows, resuming the furious work he had to pause a moment before. But now, they were no longer friends with benefits; a newly found emotions fuelled their love-making, and the fact that their acts were recorded added the extra bit of spiciness they desperately needed.

Throughout the night they changed positions many times, and every now and then, Max would reach to the stand to fix the camera's angle, to make sure it would record the mess of their twisted bodies in all of its glory. At some point, however, it became obvious that the most beautiful and captivating part of their love-making wouldn't be visible, so when Max felt that Roxanne was approaching her climax, he took the camera in his hand, ready to capture the blissful agony of her face on the tape.

- Oh, yeah, Max, keep going, keep going! - she screamed, even louder now that Max was recording her.

Under Max's thrusts, Roxanne got hold of the bed's frame and begun writhing, already anticipating the orgasm only her trusty friend, no, lover, could give her. She swore loudly when climax hit her, causing her body to arch and twist more, though she still tried her best to keep her eyes on the video camera. For the first time in her life, she felt full and accomplished, having just found the soulmate she's been looking for years. At the same time, a minuscule wave of disappointment waved over her, as she pondered how much earlier could they start dating, but it was almost instantly washed by the prospect of them driving through life together, as more than just two co-workers.

Max's groans and huffs were getting louder as well, prompting Roxanne to move her hips back and forth a bit faster to accommodate his pushes. Suddenly, and with some difficulties, Max managed to pull out and waddled forth on his knees, stroking his cock with his other hand, until he shoved it unceremoniously under Roxanne's face, holding it like a microphone.

- Roxanne... how about a few words for our viewers? - he groaned, and threw his head back. Roxanne eagerly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, catching several short bursts from his tip, shifting her eyes between the lens of the camera, and the blissful face of her climaxing boyfriend. Despite her best efforts, Roxanne didn't manage to swallow all of his copious orgasm, and let the rest spill onto her chin and neck. She wasn't sure if she did it because of the volume of his release, or if she wanted to leave a lasting impression of their first kinky night on the tape. Whatever the reason might have been, once Max was finished, Roxanne turned her head to the side, so that his camera would catch her messy face, her empty mouth and most importantly, a beaming smile of satisfaction.

- Oh, yeah, Max, keep going, keep going! Roxanne bit her lip, watching her face twisting in carnal pleasure on the screen. Sitting in her boyfriend's lap, on the sofa, in her night gown, Roxanne enjoyed the post-coital and post-shower cuddles, though she could not ignore his length getting stiff again, as the two climaxed on the screen again and again.

- Pretty good one, huh? - Oh, yeah. - Roxanne murmured, exposing her neck for Max to kiss - I never thought I looked like that when I... Well, you know.

Almost instantly, Roxanne closed her legs and begun playing with her hair. Whenever things got a bit heated, Roxanne had a few ways of hiding her excitement, though with her boobs constantly bouncing up and down in front of her eyes, it proved to be very, very difficult. Despite her kinky nature, the modest and shy part of her personality would sometimes surface to calm the other, fiery one, and it was a treat for Max to see them battling for dominance in front of him.

- I think it was better than the nurse act we did last week. - Max stated nonchalantly, pushing a button on a remote, trapping the scene on the screen in a infinite loop, much to Roxanne's amusement. - Oh, yes. That one was so cliché. - Roxanne replied, wriggling in his lap, getting more and more aroused. - Still fun, though. - I wish we recorded our first one, don't you think? "Miss Roxanne", a sexy secretary...

Roxanne let out a low, languorous moan and let her body fall deeper into Max's arms, as the memory of their first role-play came vividly back to her.

- Yes, that was definitely the best one. But knowing your luck you would return the camera to your dad with the tape inside it. - she joked, staring at the expensive, borrowed device linked to the television set. - We should repeat that then. - he said briskly - What do you say? Max' eager suggestion, combined with his hands moving up and down her exposed thighs was a clear sign that all of Roxanne's attempts at hiding her arousal was unsuccessful, though the more she thought about it, she wondered why she bothered concealing it in the first place, given her past record of trying to refuse a second helping of her boyfriend. - I told you, she is attracted to people with power. - Roxanne snapped back - Once you get a promotion, maybe she'll come back for more... - Oh come on, it's gonna be years! - Max exclaimed, hearing his girlfriend giggle under her breath - What am I supposed to be looking for until then? - Well, If I'm not good enough for you...

When Roxanne leapt from their seat, Max was about to protest and apologise, since his first dreadful thought was that she was about to storm out of their small apartment, still in her gown. But instead, she walked to the drawers in front of him, swaying her hips with every step, and sat on the spot next to the TV, careful not to throw the camera to the ground. Once she was sure-seated, she spread her legs, giving Max the breath-taking view of two naked Roxannes, one constantly climaxing, and one about to start doing it again, live. She stood up, took the ends of her robe and tossed it to the floor, about to drag Max into another round of carnal pleasure.

A black skirt fell to the floor in the dark, elongated room, illuminated only by rows of screens, all showing scenes from their recent sex-tape. On one of the screens, Roxanne watched Max climaxing into her mouth, and was surprised how eager she looked, while performing such dirty move, especially since the looped video made it look as if her new boyfriend was really holding up for years waiting for her. Another centred around her breasts, jiggling up and down; yet another showed her face, twisting with pleasure, being pushed deep into sheets, as Max pounded her brutally from behind.

In other words, it was a perfect background for what she was about to do.

Roxanne pushed the heavy, colour-coded keyboard back, getting comfortable on Max's desk, amongst dozens of pieces of computer equipment only he knew about.

- I don't know about you, but I've got a taste for sex in an editing room, under our boss' nose. What do you say, Max?

A/N: Oh, and yeah, the reporter role-play was kinda inspired by the job the Roxanne-looking girl in "Ducktales" reboot took by the end of it.