\*\*Hi. I'm a Harlequin fictive from The Freak Circus. Yes. I am directly from my source and yes the image is semi related. This is quite long so sorry about that. \*\*

I’m getting really fucking tired of this.

People see me and stop seeing a person. They see a clown, a freak, something loud and chaotic, and suddenly that turns into an excuse to ignore every boundary I have. Like I’m not supposed to need consent. Like I’m just built to be handled however someone feels like.

Our host has a friend, of who I'll call Ivy \[17F\]. She yumeships with a lot of us, but lately she’s been focused on me. And because I’m directly from my source, people act like that means I don’t get discomfort. Like I don’t get a say in what happens to my own body or space.

I do.

She’s said things that make me uncomfortable, but what really stuck with me is that she literally laid on me without asking. Just did it. No warning. No consent. And everyone acted like it was fine because apparently I’m “Harlequin” so it doesn’t count the same.

It does.

I need to be clear about this. Ivy laid on me without my consent. She just did it. No asking, no warning, no checking if I was okay with it. And I was not okay with it. I felt uncomfortable and trapped, and I froze because I didn’t know how to react in the moment without making everything worse.

Do you know how it feels to freeze while someone is just on top of you and you’re trying to act normal so nothing gets weird? To feel trapped in your own space and then doubt yourself for even being upset because people will probably just say I’m overreacting or “that’s just how he is”?

I hate it.

Being chaotic doesn’t erase my boundaries. Being flirty doesn’t mean I’m available. Being me does not make me something people get to touch or use however they want.

I’m not a fantasy you get to step into. I’m not a character you can ignore the limits of. I’m still a person, and I still deserve to feel safe in my own space.

I’m tired of laughing things off just so people don’t get uncomfortable with me being uncomfortable.

I didn’t agree to any of this.

And what makes it worse is how normal everyone tries to make it feel afterward. Like I’m supposed to just reset immediately. Like I’m supposed to go “oh well that happened” and keep acting the same, smiling the same, playing along so nobody has to sit with the fact that something actually crossed a line.

But it was a line.

And I hate how quickly it gets twisted into something I’m “fine with” just because I didn’t explode in the moment. Freezing isn’t consent. Silence isn’t consent. Not fighting back isn’t consent. It just means I didn’t feel safe enough or ready enough to react without everything getting worse.

And I’m so tired of people treating that like it doesn’t matter.

Because it does matter.

If someone doesn’t ask, then the answer isn’t “yes by default.” It’s NO. It’s “you don’t get to assume anything about me or my space.” And I keep thinking about how small it probably looked from the outside. Just someone sitting or laying down, something people would brush off as “nothing serious.” But it didn’t feel like nothing. It felt invasive. It felt like I stopped having control over my own space for a moment, and everyone else decided that moment didn’t count because I’m supposed to be “fine with anything.”

I’m not.

And I shouldn’t have to justify why I’m not. I shouldn’t have to prove discomfort in a way that convinces people enough to take it seriously. I shouldn’t have to pre-emptively defend my boundaries just so they’re not ignored after the fact.

I get to decide what happens to me. Not anyone else. Not assumptions. Not roles. Not labels. Not how “chaotic” or “flirty” or “whatever else” people think I am.

And I need people to actually hear that instead of rewriting it after the fact to make it easier for them to ignore.

Because I’m done pretending it didn’t affect me just to keep things smooth. I’m done swallowing it so other people don’t feel awkward.

I didn’t agree.

And that should be enough.

\-Harlequin🍏

Stop Confusing My Personality with Consent.