#so regardless of what labels you do or do not use i think you’re probably a pretty cool person :)!

[marbles-for-breakfast]

Thoughts/Arguments about Endogenic systems:

(for context, I’m probably best described as “quoigenic”, but I don’t really identify with any origin label because I think they ultimately cause more confusion than clarity)

Firstly, for those who don’t know, the term endogenic is about the narrative of your own existence. It was created by a diagnosed DID system which believes they were born plural and would have been plural regardless of the trauma they experienced. Whether you personally believe that to be true is your business, but I fail to understand how people think that idea is harmful, ableist or anything else. Not everybody wants to conceive of the origin of their existence in the same way. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Trying to force people to adopt a certain narrative about their own life doesn’t help anyone or prevent any sort of harm.

As far as willogenic systems go (because they’re under the endo umbrella, I’m pretty sure), I really don’t know enough about them to have a super definitive opinion. People seem to have mostly positive experiences with it, and it sure doesn’t affect me whether somebody I don’t know tries to make headmates through things like meditation. It’s obviously something quite different than DID, but I imagine it could work similarly in some ways, so I don’t really mind them using terms like ‘system’. I do understand the aversion to willogenics to some extent, though. I feel that sometimes too. And ultimately I think that’s because they get to make a choice that I wasn’t given. And they get to skip syscovery, and probably a lot of dissociation on top of that. It’s tempting to resent them, to assume they see it as a fun or frivolous thing, and are totally ignorant of our problems and suffering. But I don’t think that’s true.

They know what DID is. They know it’s usually caused by trauma, and often serious abuse. They know it is a serious disorder that can make life very difficult. They also know that they created headmates through meditation or something, and now they’re a system. Why should that upset us? Why do we think we own plurality just because we suffered more on the road here? Maybe you think they’re wrong about having headmates, but…. how would we know? Just because an experience isn’t accepted or understood by the field of psychology doesn’t mean it’s not happening. And I make a point to believe people about their own minds.

Just because they don’t have DID and have very different experiences to people with DID doesn’t mean they can’t acknowledge that those experiences do have some similarities. And it certainly doesn’t mean they can’t find community with OSDDID systems who want to normalize plurality itself in order to make life easier for all systems. It may seem “weird” to us, we might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean we should deny just because we originally learned that DID (and therefore plurality) can only form through extreme trauma. Aren’t a lot of the things we originally learned about DID wrong? Aren’t a lot of the things we assumed about it wrong? We, as a species, have never understood the human brain. Even doctors and educators make assumptions about what’s impossible without looking into it enough to prove that.

But when tons of people tell you they created headmates on purpose, and you don’t really have a reason to think they’re wrong other than “I don’t think that’s possible”, maybe it’s time to switch to, “idk how that works, but you do you”. It’s time to acknowledge that someone living their life in a way that you wouldn’t choose for yourself is actually completely fine. I mean, as long as they’re not hurting anybody obviously, but willogenics are not hurting anybody by being openly willogenic.

So yeah, endogenic systems are not inherently a threat to you or anyone else.

This post sums up my thoughts pretty well, so I might just refer people to it in the future. If you’re here from that, thanks for hearing what I have to say. I hope it helps you refine your worldview in some way. You don’t have to agree with everything I said here. I just hope you at least interact with people with more good faith (believing what they say until they give you a reason not to).

[napping-sapphic]

do you know any lesbian labels that aren't based on masculine/feminine spectrum? like, my type is women who could kill me and usually that's femme but not like. floaty femme, and it's not the femininity that's appealing and plenty of butch or chapstick lesbians would fit that category too

and for my own self my presentation tends to be on both ends of the spectrum at once so i don't feel like any of the standard labels fit me and it's kind of isolating

Ahh, honestly I’m not too familiar with many of the sublabels so unfortunately I don’t think I know any that you’re looking for or haven’t already found😓

Idk if this will be helpful at all but i’ll say that in my case I usually just stick to the broad labels like lesbian since I also don’t fit with some of the connotations that come with some of the sublabels. I like the freedom to change things up and not be too attached to certain roles and such. I definitely get wanting those extra labels but the broader ones also have their benefits

If anyone more familiar with lesbian labels has any ideas please leave them in the notes for this person!

But otherwise I hope you don’t end up feeling too isolated!! Labels can get tricky especially when they start getting more specific as it can be harder to find the exact one you’re looking for. I think a lot of people are also looking for that type of thing and struggling with it so I hope you all find what you’re looking for soon and feel comfortable with it but in the meantime i hope you remember that no matter what label you use or how many labels you use you’ve still got the entire queer community on your side and rooting for you! Hang in there <3!!

[katherinakaina]

I keep seeing once in a while people pondering on an apparent contradiction in Daniil’s character – he is said to be a rationalist but he is evidently extremely emotional. Those things do not go together, right? People notice their confusion. They find all sorts of interesting explanations. From him being manipulative and performative, using his displays of emotion like tools to control people. To him not being rational at all actually, him lying to himself and others, not even knowing who he is, pretending and failing.

Every time I get over it and completely forget and then another one of these hits me in the face. What I forget is that in common understanding rationality is opposed to being emotional. While in the community it is a basic level understanding that there are rational emotions and irrational ones. The same way there are rational beliefs and irrational beliefs (which is to say true and false basically).

From here:

A popular belief about “rationality” is that rationality opposes all emotion—that all our sadness and all our joy are automatically anti-logical by virtue of being feelings. …

For my part, I label an emotion as “not rational” if it rests on mistaken beliefs, or rather, on mistake-producing epistemic conduct. “If the iron approaches your face, and you believe it is hot, and it is cool, the Way opposes your fear. If the iron approaches your face, and you believe it is cool, and it is hot, the Way opposes your calm.” Conversely, an emotion that is evoked by correct beliefs or truth-conducive thinking is a “rational emotion”; and this has the advantage of letting us regard calm as an emotional state, rather than a privileged default. …

Becoming more rational—arriving at better estimates of how-the-world-is—can diminish feelings or intensify them. Sometimes we run away from strong feelings by denying the facts, by flinching away from the view of the world that gave rise to the powerful emotion. If so, then as you study the skills of rationality and train yourself not to deny facts, your feelings will become stronger. …

I visualize the past and future of humankind, the tens of billions of deaths over our history, the misery and fear, the search for answers, the trembling hands reaching upward out of so much blood, what we could become someday when we make the stars our cities, all that darkness and all that light—I know that I can never truly understand it, and I haven’t the words to say. Despite all my philosophy I am still embarrassed to confess strong emotions, and you’re probably uncomfortable hearing them. But I know, now, that it is rational to feel.

Daniil probably suppresses some of his emotions to be taken seriously. But this is masking. And he is bad at it. He has strong emotions and strong convictions and they spill out of him regardless. He also values truth and honesty and that’s another reason why he can’t fully suppress his authenticity.

But all of it is about how to behave in polite society. How not to freak out neurotypicals. It has nothing to do with his thinking process, his beliefs and his goals. His rationality.

Now you can argue that his sincerity and his openness are irrational instrumentally, which is to say they lead to his downfall. He should have masked better and become more cynical if he wanted to succeed. Maybe? But that would also have its downsides, I’m pretty sure. (we’ll see what apathy meter does to his decision making soon enough)

Anyway, that is not the point I see people make. And I just really want people to stop making it. Strong emotions, strong ideals, passionate belief in a better future for humanity – those are all perfectly rational if they align with truth. And he does fail as a rationalist quite a lot as well, but this is purely an epistemological issue that has nothing to do with him being emotional.

[be-queer-and-instill-fear]

My hot take with being trans is that you do need dysphoria to be trans BUT the diagnosis criteria for what dysphoria is should definitely be reevaluated.

Now before you immediately jump down my throat let me explain. The major consensus amongst trans people is that the extremes on the diagnosis criteria for gender dysphoria aren’t exactly what most of us feel and in fact there are some who compared to the diagnosis criteria “don’t have dysphoria” because they don’t experience the extreme dysphoria to the point of self harm or wanting to die because they’re not in the right body.

They might not rip their hair out as a kid but they probably deal with severe anxiety that doesn’t necessarily seem to have a root cause.

They might not even know from a young age they are trans but they might go through life experiencing disassociation that completely cuts their brain off from their body (like me).

You might be transmasc and “not care” that you have boobs, but your nipples responding to stimulation makes you extremely uncomfortable for some reason.

But because it’s not paired completely with a form of social, or physical, or conversational dysphoria then it’s written off as not dysphoria when it very much IS dysphoria.

Not only that but something as simple as “wanting” to be a different gender is completely valid and does make you trans and I think because we as a society are taught to put needs before wants and eventually taught to ignore our wants, feeling like you just want to be a different gender feels like you’re lying or fake about being trans. However cis people don’t sit around and wish they were born a different gender.

The desire to be perceived as different gender at any capacity is dysphoria, regardless of it’s how you feel in your own body, how others see you, or how people refer to you in conversation,

Only having gender dysphoria talked about as if it’s this end all extremism ends up letting people who very much are trans, slip through the cracks because they don’t feel extreme hatred towards their body. On another side it makes people who know they’re trans or questioning their gender feel invalid because they’re not to those extremes yet and don’t feel they’re worthy of gender affirming care.

If you’re a trans person and you say “oh I don’t really have dysphoria” chances are you absolutely do have dysphoria you just don’t know it because it’s not the medical definition of dysphoria.

You might not hate your body but the wrong pronouns might upset you or make you uncomfortable, that’s social/ conversational dysphoria.

You might be okay with the pronouns you were born into but you’d much rather look like a different gender, that’s still bodily dysphoria.

I personally never grew up with intense dysphoria but I did wish strangers would mistake me for a little boy when I was little.

I didn’t have a lot of dysphoria but I started to pretend to masturbate with a penis at 12.

I didn’t have dysphoria but I grew up disassociated with horrible anxiety that I thought was just from the abuse I endured as a kid, however once I realized I was trans I realized my social anxiety came from the fact I’d rather be a boy in the conversation than a girl.

Another big issue is see with this is the imposter syndrome that has so many trans folks in a chokehold wondering if they’re trans enough. If you don’t want to be the gender you were assigned at birth congratulations you are trans and that alone is enough. Cis people don’t question their pronouns or if they do it’s briefly and they don’t continue to revisit the topic. They don’t wish to be a different gender, they like how people perceive them from the get go and are satisfied with this.

Many feel they have to meet a baseline requirement of how many “trans boxes” can I fit so I can properly label myself as trans. If you’re already doing that you are already trans. Dysphoria isn’t a bad thing and it’s not shameful to have it.

If you didn’t have dysphoria you’d have no symptoms of it like depression or anxiety, nor would you have any desire to socially or physical alter anything about yourself or the way people refer to you. If you seek out using different pronouns, HRT or any form of transitioning, you very much have some form a dysphoria somewhere even if it’s not a big burden to you.

Regardless I still feel gender affirming care should be widespread and openly accepted amongst everyone cis or trans. The bar isn’t way above your head to be valid as trans, whatever it is no matter how small of a reason you have to wanting to transition you are 100% valid.

Surgery and hormones to change the way you look to me is no different than getting a tattoo or piercing despite the fact the changes might take years to get.

Bottom line instead of telling people they don’t need dysphoria, why not actually expand and tone down what dysphoria is and how it can manifest itself. More people would be shocked to learn how their dysphoria affects them when they can see it within their own perception realm.

Dysphoria is not a bad thing, and it’s okay if yours isn’t as bad as someone else’s.

[adidastain]

just like heaven

college matt stone x fem reader

warnings: smut (vaginal penetration)

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.), i really wanted to write something fluffy and kinda vanilla so sorry if it’s boring but i love it a lot i think it’s sweet

word count: 5240

—

Nothing was more relieving than getting in bed after a long day of classes and running errands. I’d been busting my ass the entire day, making sure everyone around me was happy and calm. It was what I did best, to be completely honest. I liked taking over. Sure, it made me kind of a bad collaborator, but I preferred to stay positive and think of it as one of my best qualities. Productive, stern, and leaderly. 

One of my classmates had a dorm to himself and had been letting me stay there for a while, since I lived off campus on paper, but didn’t have a car. We both majored in film; he double majored in math as well, and I was minoring in psychology. 

He was cool and funny. Sometimes he’d even say stuff that earned him a clock to the jaw, but regardless, I thought he was funny. And smart. He double majored; of course he was smart.

I sighed heavily, opening the heavy steel door to his dorm, labeled ‘MATT’ with a cute paper cutout of a kid wearing a ushanka and glasses showing a peace sign. It made me smile every time I saw it. His mind was so interesting.

To my surprise, the lights were on inside. He’d told me he was going to a little party in our other classmate’s building a few blocks away, so I didn’t think he’d be home.

“Oh, you’re here,” I said, taking my jacket off. 

“Unfortunately,” he said, grinning. His voice was deep and slightly nasally as always, with just a hint of raspiness. He sounded really tired. 

“What happened? I thought you were going to Trey’s party,” I said softly. I looked in the mirror on the back of the door, removing my hair clip and earrings. I didn’t want to waste any time getting to bed. 

“I just…” Matt swallowed, shifting in his seat in the beanbag on the floor. “I dunno. I changed my mind. Kinda exhausted.”

“I hear that,” I laughed, raising my eyebrows. There was some sort of old comedy movie on the little TV next to Matt’s bed. His whole dresser was covered in empty cans, dirty shot glasses with sticky syrup at the bottom, wrappers, deodorant, shit like that. I guess someone had been over and Matt was too tired to clean up the mess. “I’m gonna change real quick, don’t look.”

“Aw man,” he said, teasing me. I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him, pulling my sweater and tank top over my head all at once. I’d been wearing a sports bra all day and the elastic was starting to dig into my skin. I looked behind me, just to make sure he wasn’t trying to sneak any glances. Not that there was much to see. 

Lo and behold, as soon as I turned my head, I caught his turning too, back towards the TV. 

I grabbed a discarded T-shirt off the floor and swung it at him, hitting him a lot more violently than I really intended to. “You are such a pervert!” I laughed.

“I wasn’t trying to look at you!” he shrieked. I hit him again. “I thought I heard someone at the door!”

“A pervert and a liar!” I accused. Matt stood up, trying to defend himself from my wrath as I exacted my revenge. He yelped and grabbed my wrists, pushing back against me. 

We play-fought like this often. He was a lot stronger than me. He may not have looked like it, being so slim, but he was fit underneath all that fabric he was drowning in. Especially his arms. We’d go on and on, until it felt awkward and drawn out. 

Of course, by doing this, I’d ended up giving him a free show anyway. He’d definitely seen me changing before. Matt had walked in on me on several occasions, but it was mostly my fault, since I would come and go in his dorm without saying anything. He didn’t seem to have a problem, though. 

I bit my lip, pushing against his weight with all my might. He pretty much towered over me and my hands were engulfed in his large ones. He probably wasn’t even using half of his strength on me. 

Suddenly, he let go of my hands, causing me to fall forward slightly. I lost my balance until I felt his arms wrap tightly around my torso, before he lifted me up and pushed me onto his bed and walked away. 

He giggled to himself as he stepped towards his little mini refrigerator to grab a can of soda. I felt slightly warm inside; something about the way he was able to just lift me up and throw me down so easily made my face burn up. 

Of course, Matt acted like it was nothing and sat back down in his beanbag, one of his hands idly rubbing the fuzzy fabric cover with his thumb and index finger. 

I scoffed loudly and stood back up, blocking his view of the TV. My hand politely took the soda can out of his hand, watching his eyes follow it as I brought it to my lips and took a long, long sip. He just stared up at me, but he didn’t look in any way offended. He just looked completely awestruck, a puppy-eyed look ever present in his face. 

I put the soda down on the dresser so that he’d have to get up to get it, and went back to changing. I faced the TV so I could keep a hawk’s eye on him as I peeled off my jeans, rendering me in just my bra and panties which didn’t match at all. 

I heard him grunt slightly as he stood up to grab his soda off of the dresser. He turned around to face me, until he stopped dead in his tracks and his smirk was wiped clean off his face. 

After a second or two of him taking in as much of the sight as he could, his hand flew over his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whined. “I was gonna play a prank on you. Didn’t know you were changing again. ‘M sorry.” 

“I don’t care, Matt,” I sighed in defeat. “I practically live here now. You were gonna see me half-naked at some point anyhow.”

Hesitantly, he lowered his hand, keeping his gaze on the floor. It was strange; he didn’t sit back down. 

“Just don’t let me find any of my clothes in your bed or I’ll punch you hard enough to turn your teeth into bullets,” I said. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, focusing on my task at hand once more. I dug through my big duffel bag to look for a clean shirt to sleep in, only finding a bunch of dress clothes that I hadn’t yet needed to wear. Right. I sighed. They’re in the wash. 

“Could I borrow a shirt?” I asked. Matt was sitting once more, rubbing the back of his neck and gently tugging on some of his curls. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, glancing at me again. That ‘glance’ turned into more of a ‘good look’. My back was turned to him again and I pretty much had my ass on full display. 

I don’t know when he looked away. I don’t actually know if he looked away at all. I just dug through his closet, trying to find the biggest T-shirt he had. 

It wasn’t uncommon for me to borrow his clothes. My duffel bag had initially only had enough clothes for 2 weeks, so I did laundry quite often and sometimes had to wear the same pants multiple days in a row. When I felt extra lazy and put off doing laundry, he let me borrow shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, pajama pants, the whole shabang. 

I picked out one of his Primus tees that had some fucked up linework drawing of a prostitute smoking a hooka. It was a sick shirt but it definitely wasn’t something you could wear to class. 

It fit me like a dress, which I loved. It was big enough that the hem covered most of my ass, which was good, because I didn’t have any clean shorts to sleep in unless I stole a pair of his. 

Lastly, I pulled my bra off from under my shirt and tossed it towards the door, where I threw most of my dirty clothes. Once I was finished, I turned back around and stood next to where Matt was sitting. 

“Scoot over,” I said. He quickly obliged. It was a pretty big beanbag, so we could both fit as long as we were shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. I must admit that there had been a night or two where we would end up entangled in some way due to the lack of space. My legs in his lap, my head on his shoulder, his arm resting up behind me. 

There was nothing I didn’t like about being close to him. He made me feel safe and he smell good and was warm. Some nights I hoped he’d be in the mood for having me real close. I hoped really hard now, especially after what just happened. 

“What are we watching?” I asked, making myself nice and comfortable and curling up next to him. 

“Groundhog Day,” he said, tilting his head back slightly so he could speak through the soda in his mouth. I looked at him for a moment, watching the muscles in his neck move as he swallowed the liquid. Then I turned my attention to the screen. “You missed the beginning, but basically he’s stuck living the same day over and over again. It’s like, a big allegory or whatever for Buddhism. Pretty good, though”

I nodded, watching as the Bill Murray character talked to a woman and asked her out on a date. A few seconds later, there was a smash cut to them on the verge of having sex. Matt awkwardly laughed next to me.

“Ah, yeah. Buddhism,” I said, mocking him. 

“You’ll like it. It gets better,” he argued. That’s when I felt his arm snake behind me, just a few inches away from laying across my shoulder. Once again, he rubbed the fabric between his fingers, fidgeting. 

Eventually the whole foreplay bit was over and the next scene started. My body subconsciously leaned into Matt’s, sinking my weight into his slim torso and absorbing the warmth that his body generated. I was both extremely comfortable and extremely exhausted. 

The movie went on, and like Matt said, the character was living the same day over and over. It was kind of lulling me to sleep. It was definitely pretty funny; occasionally I would jerk awake at the sound of Matt chuckling softly. I think at some point he pulled a blanket off his bed and wrapped it around me. I swear he ran his hand through my hair for just a moment, pulling me closer to him. 

Now his arm was wrapped around my shoulder, his hand occasionally lifting up to run his fingers through my hair or flatten any stray strands. It felt safe; it felt right. 

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, finding that his gaze was already on me. He looked like a deer in headlights, but exhausted at the same time. I watched Matt’s eyes dart around my face. 

“You ready for bed?” he asked softly, looking at the top of my head as he fixed a strand of my hair. 

One of my favorite parts about him was that he could be harsh and gentle, depending on the occasion. He always had a resting bitch face and was kind of intimidating to a lot of people, but he had such a soft, gentle side to him. 

My hand made its way up to his cheek. Matt had a nice, soft layer of peach fuzz that, paired with the warmth of his face, made my heart beat faster. My thumb tenderly traced back and forth on his cheek bone while my eyes fixated on his lips. 

Eventually, I felt his breath on my face as he closed his lips over my bottom one. I’d been biting the skin off of it all week, so there was a small stinging sensation that quickly faded once he kissed me again. 

I felt so shy all the sudden. Here I was, curled up in his arms, softly making out with him like teenagers with no experience. No second guesses or hesitations, just hearts beating together, breaths melting into each other while we explored. 

How did we get here? The question crossed my mind before I immediately pushed it away. I didn’t give a shit about how we got there, I was just glad that this is where we ended up. 

Without pulling his lips away from me, Matt somehow managed to find the remote and turn off the TV, before caressing my waist and pulling me ever closer. He was hovering over me a little, only making my heart race faster and my desire for him grow stronger. 

Now things were definitely starting to heat up. Matt softly groaned into my mouth, and for the first time since our lips first met, we pulled away. 

His eyes bored into mine, pupils dilated. We sat breathing into each others mouths, catching our breath as we tried to read what the other was thinking. It was almost suspenseful. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” I asked. It wasn’t even a whisper. Nope. I just breathed and moved my mouth to form the words. 

“Uh-huh,” he responded, nodding. He swallowed and I didn’t hesitate to tuck my hands under the hem of his baggy gray-green T-shirt. Matt kissed me again, deepening it. 

In an instant, his lips parted and he gasped softly as soon as my fingertips made contact with the warm skin of his abdomen. I could feel that part of his torso shifting ever so slightly as he breathed. 

I pulled away, making sure to keep eye contact with him while I slowly lifted his shirt up inch by inch. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he exhaled, catching me off guard. I swallowed, feeling my face flush once again. 

A second or two later, I pulled the fabric over his head, finally rendering him topless in front of me. He had a slender, curvy waist and just the smallest little bit of muscle in his abdomen. His hips were prominent, and his upper body was very broad in contrast to his slim frame. He had little dark beauty spot freckles scattered across his shoulders and body. I would love to sit there all day and just count them. I wanted badly to just map out and explore his body, feeling every inch of his skin and memorizing his shape. 

I snapped out of my trance as soon as he kissed me again, letting out several vocal breaths that I honestly didn’t expect to ever hear him make. He remained gentle in his kisses, but I felt the desire boiling and festering within both of us. It was extremely hard to ignore. 

“Do you wanna stop?” I asked, pulling away suddenly. 

“Do you wanna stop?” he repeated, his voice somewhat nervous. Matt swallowed and scanned my face. 

“No,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms around his neck, taking one of his curls between my fingers. 

Matt licked his lips. I could feel his whole body relax, and he leaned closer, ghosting his lips against mine. 

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” he asked shyly, staring down at my lips. My stomach flipped and felt a strong jumping-like feeling in between my legs. 

“I would like that a lot,” I answered, giggling wide eyes. I was so flustered that I was to the point where I laughed at myself. 

“Fuck yeah,” he laughed, out of breath. Matt leaned in to kiss me again, this time opening his mouth slightly wider. “Should we go up there?” 

He tilted his head towards the bed next us, and I nodded, wrapping my legs around his torso so he could pick me up.

“Mmh… c’mere baby,” he hummed softly, pressing my body against his as he lifted me up and tenderly laid me down beneath him on his bed. 

Matt suddenly felt so much bigger than me now that his body was hovering over me. He was straddling my hips, both of his large hands massaging my waist under my (his) shirt while he started leaving wet kisses down my neck. 

I arched my back at the feeling of his teeth as they pinched a small spot below my ear, his tongue coming quickly to the rescue to warm up the spot and relieve the pain. My hands were entangled in his soft, somewhat messy curls, caressing his entire head and holding it close to me. I stared at the ceiling, letting my eyes flutter shut any time I heard him groan and felt his hips subtly buck above me. 

“How about your shirt, baby?” he asked, nibbling on my ear. I could hear him breathing heavily through his nose, each warm exhale covering my ear and neck. One of his hands slid up my body and grazed the underside crease of my boobs with his fingertips. 

“You mean your shirt,” I giggled, rubbing his warm shoulders.

“Okay, my shirt,” he scoffed. “Can I take it off?”

I nodded, sitting up slightly. As soon as his hands lifted the fabric up and over my nipples, I panicked slightly. In no time the shirt was on the floor and Matt’s eyes were tentatively glued to my bare chest.  

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good…” he mumbled, prying his eyes away from my now nearly naked body. His hands squeezed my hips, lifting them up so he could start grinding against me. 

“Matt-“ I gasped. His hot mouth almost immediately attached to my collarbone, his tongue pressing flat against the skin. Meanwhile, I shivered as one of his hands slowly dragged up my waist and tenderly caressed one of my tits. And on top of that, for the first time, I could feel the tent he’d been pitching press into me as he started grinding against my hips with desperation. 

I ran my fingers through his hair and lifted my hips up, supported by my heels digging into the soft covers below me. My hands slid down over his shoulder blades, tracing each muscle as I moved them towards my panties. Finally, I managed to wriggle out of them and fling them onto the floor while Matt was sitting on his knees, towering over me. His broad chest moved in and out with each heavy breath he took with his lips slightly agape. 

He looked like one of those ancient Greek statues. Each muscle so defined under such smooth, warm skin. Natural posture so relaxed and almost ethereal. I wanted to devour him. 

Matt stared at me, the look in his eyes almost anxious but infinitely flustered and filled with lust. In a flash he yanked his flannel pajama pants down to his knees, kicking them off while he crawled on top of me again.!

“Do you like it fast or hard?” he asked me, his voice faltering slightly. He swallowed, looking down at me from above. Matt’s arms were on either side of me, propping his body up as he then got ready to start pulling his boxers off. 

“Fast,” I exhaled, though it really sounded more like a moan. Even subconsciously I wanted him to know that right now, I wanted him more than anything. 

“‘Course, baby,” he hummed softly, bending his arms like he was doing a pushup so he could peck my lips. I felt him smiling in the kiss. “Do you wanna… get me going?” 

He gestured towards his boxers and the hot, throbbing erection beneath them. Without hesitation, I spit in my palm and slipped my fingers under the waistband of his boxers, first untucking his cock from the side and then gently wrapping my hand around it. 

Matt immediately whimpered, holding in as much of it as he could while screwing his eyes shut. He felt so warm in my hand… and thick. I could feel a vein or two protruding from the soft skin and made sure to pay a little extra attention to them. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, letting his head drop down so he could see what wonders I was working with my hand. He shimmied out of his boxers and now I could see that yes, he was in fact thick. Most definitely thicker than I knew I was used to. 

I knew it was going to hurt like a bitch. It was intimidating, but still, as I tenderly stroked up and down his length, I only kept thinking of it as something that was making him feel insanely good and not as something that was going to hurt me. It would only hurt for a few seconds. 

His breath hitched and he practically threw my hand off him, sitting up again to catch his breath for a moment. 

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed, out of breath. Matt raised his eyebrows and smiled. His cheeks were so flushed and it looked like some sweat pearls had begun forming at his temples. 

I laid back, watching his muscles shift and flex as he took his glasses off and reached inside one of his dresser drawers for a condom. 

As he tore open the package, he looked at me, seemingly getting lost in the sight of me. 

I grabbed the hand of his that held the unopened condom and brought it close to my face so that I could kiss it. Then I pushed his hand back towards him so he could do the same, though he looked thoroughly confused.

“What, is that good luck or something?” he chuckled, looking down at his hands and dick as he opened the condom and slid it onto his length.

“It’s tradition,” I said, shrugging. Matt furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What tradition?” he scoffed, crawling on top of me. 

“Messing with you. I made it up,” I grinned. 

He shook his head, adjusting his position and posture while handling his cock, making sure it would slide in easy. 

Matt looked up at me through his eyebrows. It was the last look of reassurance before anything was really about to happen. Our lives were about to change forever. 

I nodded. I was so desperate for him at this point, I didn’t care if he hurt me at all. 

His large hand spread out on one side of my hips, digging into the flesh ever so slightly and likely leaving faint nail marks in my skin. I kept my eyes on him and found him instructing me to take a deep breath in with him. Before he told me to exhale though, he started pushing in. 

“Hmmn- ahh!” I half-moaned, half-winced. 

“Shh… oh, fuck,” Matt whispered in my ear, letting out a deep moan that’s he’s probably kept inside for a little while. 

I let out a groan of discomfort, trying my best to hold it in but ultimately failing. In response, Matt pulled his lips away from my ear so he could get a good look at my face.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, swallowing. 

“Mhm,” I hummed, biting my lip. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the feeling of Matt’s fingertips brushing my hair out of my face. “Just give me a minute.” 

Matt lowered himself on top of me, beginning to pepper soft, wet kisses on my jaw and neck. His hand massaged my hip and occasionally inched lower to squeeze the soft flesh of my upper thigh. 

I kissed him and became lost in his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him close to me. His curls tickled my forehead as we kissed softly. I’d completely forgotten about the fact the he was inside of me; I was so focused on how his lips felt and the fact that I could feel his heart pounding with his chest pressed against mine. Our skin grazed together softly with each breath we took, giving me goosebumps. 

“You can start now,” I whispered against his lips. Matt hummed in response, kissing me a little bit deeper as he adjusted the position of his body. 

We remained with our lips attached as his hips started to roll back and forth. I could hear Matt whimper every couple of seconds and he kept holding his breath, pulling away from the kiss to exhale into my mouth. The warmth in the pit of my stomach really started to boil up once he started moving, slowly drawing himself out and thrusting back in. I listened carefully to each little sound and breath he made as he moved. 

I heard him heavily exhale after swallowing. “S’good…” he whispered, grunting slightly. I moaned, running my fingers in his hair and tugging on it gently. 

A loud groan escaped his throat as I did this, encouraging me to do it again. One of his hands suddenly wrapped tenderly around my throat, carefully squeezing my neck. Matt’s head cocked to the side as he opened his mouth and slid his tongue in between my lips. 

I let out a soft moan as his tongue slid against mine, exploring the inside of my mouth with hunger and desperation. I let my hands travel from his head and neck down to his body, caressing his waist and pulling him into me. Matt’s hand left my hip, instead moving up to grip the top of the headboard of his bed, holding it to keep it from knocking against the wall each time we moved. 

He leaned down to let his forehead rest against mine, staring into my eyes. I stared right back. I’d never seen him without his round silver glasses before, but I knew he had a stunning set of dark green eyes and now I could see each little spec of blue in them as they darted around my face, almost nervously. 

His free hand moved to cup one of my tits, rolling his fingers over my nipple to tease the sensitive area. I gasped slightly, arching my back. 

“You have no idea how perfect you look right now,” he exhaled. 

I couldn’t do or say anything else but smile. I always had that reaction when he complimented me, but I was much more used to him saying something about my clothes or my work. His voice always sounded so deep and smooth; to hear him say my name or something nice about how I looked always sent my blood rushing to my cheeks.

“I’m close,” I whispered, touching his chest. 

“Faster?” he hummed. 

“Yeah,” I laughed slightly. 

Before moving again, he adjusted his position, letting go of the headboard. He propped himself up and licked the thumb of his free hand, before lowering it and using it to massage slow circles around my clit. Matt’s body was hovering above me when he bowed his head to start kissing the crook of my neck. Only then did he start thrusting once more, rolling his hips faster and faster. 

The new sensation along with the added pleasure of his fingers working my clit had me in shambles. I threw my head back and let out a loud moan, succumbing to the electrifying, hot sensation that festered throughout my entire body. The pit of my stomach tightened, my legs trembled, my hands gripped anything they could touch. I dig my fingertips into the sheets, his back and shoulders, his biceps, his waist, his scalp. Several times did I pull on his hair like I was holding on for dear life, earning a groan from him each time. I just hoped I wasn’t hurting him. 

Matt let out a loud moan. I opened my eyes to see him struggling to thrust at a consistent pace, faltering every few seconds with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth agape. I watched him look down to see himself pumping in and out of me, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. 

He whimpered, trying his best to hold his breath. The sight of him rushing toward his own orgasm sent me over the edge. I cried out his name, gasping as every muscle in my body tensed up. The knot in my stomach came undone and I could feel my blood pumping through my body. 

Only a moment or two later did Matt’s body shudder and tense up. His muscles flexed as he leaned forward and tried his hardest to keep his hips moving, but he was ultimately overcome by his orgasm as he came, my name spilling from his mouth in the most beautiful way. 

I huffed, my body melting into his bed as my legs twitched and trembled. Matt collapsed on top of me, allowing his entire weight to sink into me. His arms were shaking, as if he were shivering. We both laid there for a minute, absorbing each other as we caught our breath. 

I think he fell asleep after a minute or two. He was completely relaxed on top of me like a big bag of sand. After a little while, my breaths became forceful, so I had to wake him up.

“Matt,” I hummed, tucking a strand of his hair behind my ear. 

He wasn’t sleeping. Matt lifted himself up, smiling down at me. He kissed me, seeming quite shy all the sudden as he had to hold his weight up while he leaned his head down towards me. 

“Sorry about these bruises,” he hummed, tracing a circle on the side of my neck.

“You’re not sorry,” I grinned, teasing him. 

“I’m not,” he admitted sheepishly. “They look good on you.” 

After a few seconds, we sat up and helped clean each other up a little. I could see small red marks in his skin from where my nails dug into his arms and shoulders. While helping each other get dressed again, Matt and I found ourselves a little distracted once more, kissing each other gently and softly as we pulled shirts over our heads. His lips were like air. I almost needed them to breathe. 

“Do you wanna finish the movie?” I asked him, massaging his waist underneath his shirt. 

“Sure,” he giggled softly. 

With that, we snuggled up under the covers in his bed, turning the TV towards us. Matt had me in his arms with my back pressed to his chest and his hand under my shirt, tracing shapes on my skin. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep. 

However, at one point, I opened my eyes to find that the TV and lights were off, rendering the room completely dark. Matt was no longer next to me, but it wasn’t long before he came back over to the bed and laid down behind me. His lips softly grazed the crook of my neck. “Good night,” he whispered, before kissing my neck one more time. 

“Mm… night,” I mumbled, barely awake. Matt pulled his thick pile of blankets over my shoulder, peppering small pecks of kisses on my neck as I drifted off once again, melting in his warmth. 

[drabbles-mc]

Untouchable

Herman Kozik x OC Tawnie Trager

For @narcosfandomdiscord Book of Just Chaos: untouchable

Warnings: 18+, language, violence, blood/injury, hurt/comfort, takes place during s2

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: this pair of crazy kids is BACK! i haven't written for them in so long and I've honestly missed them so so much. this is a switch-up from the usual fun vibes that i usually write for these two, and i lowkey wanna write another part for this, but i'm not gonna make promises i can't keep lmao. hope y'all enjoy!

Tawnie had always been a bit of a magnet for trouble. Whether she was out there actively looking for it or not, it always seemed to find her regardless. She never seemed bothered by it—all part of being a Trager, was what she would always chalk it up to. There was no way that someone could be raised and live under the same roof as Tig and not have a habit of landing themselves in hot water.

For years, she was ducking in and out of scrapes. When she was a teenager, just being young and reckless with her friends, the fallout of it was always manageable. But she wasn’t a teenager anymore, and the stakes these days were much higher than they’d ever been. Getting mixed up in the wrong things now no longer just meant that someone would have to post bail and get stared down by Deputy Hale.

In Tawnie’s defense, she hadn’t been the one who started it this time. All she had been trying to do was go to the liquor store and grab a few bottles of things to bring to the clubhouse for the party later. It should’ve been a trip that took all of five minutes, maybe closer to ten if she got distracted looking at all of the labels in some of the aisles. Regardless, it shouldn’t have been a situation that ended with anyone getting hurt.

The shop’s plastic shopping basket was hanging in the crook of her arm, a couple bottles of the vodka brand that she liked laying on the bottom of it. She understood why they bought the cheaper stuff for the clubhouse, because it wasn’t as though the guys ever paid attention or gave a shit anyway. That didn’t mean that she wanted to feel like she was drinking lighter fluid, though.

She was reaching to grab a whiskey bottle off the top shelf when she heard a man’s voice behind her. He wasn’t loud, and with the way that he’d said, “Hey,” she didn’t even think that he was talking to her.

When he said, “Hey,” again, she could tell that he was standing right behind her. “I was talking to you.”

Tawnie wrapped her fingers tightly around the neck of the whiskey bottle she had been trying to grab. Pulling it down off the shelf, it dangled by her side as she turned around to face whoever it was that was trying to talk to her.

She had turned around with her usual air of confidence, and it didn’t falter as much as maybe it should have when she had to crane her head back slightly to look up at who was speaking to her. Seemingly unperturbed, she cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t work here—I can’t help you.”

The man looked her up and down, and Tawnie wasn’t sure if he was sizing her up or trying to figure out what he was supposed to say to her at that point. Whatever his motives were, Tawnie had to assume that he wasn’t trying to figure out a pickup line to use on her.

“You’re Trager’s kid.”

Her grip tightened a little more on the bottle. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she replied, “Let’s say I am—who the fuck are you?”

She didn’t recognize him, and he wasn’t wearing a kutte or anything else that would place him with an MC. Him knowing the connection between her and Tig, however, was enough of a red flag for her to know that whatever this man wanted, it probably wasn’t really about her at all.

“Big talk for someone who doesn’t know who they’re talking to.”

“If I don’t know who you are, then I have no reason to talk small.”

Tawnie had spent enough of her life putting on acts depending on who she was in a room with, so keeping a look of indifference on her face while her heart was hammering inside her chest was nothing new. The man was larger than her, and she had to assume that his jacket pulling tightly in certain points along his shoulders and arms wasn’t because he purposely bought it a few sizes too small. But they were also still on SAMCRO turf, and they were standing in the middle of a liquor store, so she had a little faith that if nothing else, those two things would still work in her favor.

She didn’t turn her back on him as she went to side-step and get around him. Even so, she wasn’t able to get very far. The second that she wasn’t pinned between him and the rack of bottles behind her anymore, he reached out and snatched her by the arm closest to him, the one holding the basket.

He let out a low laugh as he shook his head. “Oh no,” he tugged her back towards him, “you’re not going any—”

Whatever line of threats he was planning on saying to her never made it past the base of his throat as she swung her other hand with everything that she had, the whiskey bottle colliding with the side of his head. She heard him grunt in pain, and she saw the way that the bottle started to show some minor cracks along the side of it, but even so it didn’t force him to release the grip that he had on her arm. She felt the way that his fingertips dug into her even more, blunt nails starting to break the skin, and with a yell that was a little louder now, she swung the bottle at him again one more time.

This time when it hit the side of the man’s head, the bottle fully shattered. Glass shards went everywhere, the neck of the bottle breaking and slicing into Tawnie’s palm. Between the liquor and the broken glass pieces that were digging into the side of his head, the man released her with a string of curses. Without a single moment of hesitation, Tawnie dropped the basket to the floor and sprinted towards the front of the store. Before she even got to the end of the aisle, the owner who had been at the register appeared to try and see what was going on. He held his hands out like he was asking her to stop and talk to him, but rather than abiding by that, Tawnie shoved right past him, leaving blood from her palm smeared across his shirt in the process.

“Tawnie!” the shop owner called after her. His shouting didn’t even cause a falter in her steps. She sprinted out the front door, the bells chiming on it giving a strange air of whimsy to her departure of such a horrid scene.

She didn’t even feel herself digging her car keys out of her jeans pocket as she ran down the block to get to her car. Quickly unlocking the door, she flung herself inside the car. Jamming the key into the ignition, she tried not to think about the way that she was leaving bloodstains on everything that she was touching. She pressed her foot down hard on the gas pedal, speeding down the street.

The road took her right past the liquor store again, and she could see the store owner yelling at the man who had just tried to attack her. She didn’t take her foot off the gas, but she still tried to get another look at the mystery man’s face as she sped by, his facial features now streaked with whiskey and blood. He looked like he could’ve been anyone, no tattoos or scars to speak of. She went to tighten her grip on the steering wheel from nerves and was instantly greeted with a sharp jolt of pain across her palm that shot right up to her shoulder.

Eyes still on the road, she leaned and felt around on the passenger seat for the burner phone that the club had given her. She always felt a little idiotic having a second phone, especially when she communicated with several of the club members on her regular one, but times like this seemed like the perfect reason to use up some of the minutes that were on there.

Up until the point when she was about to hit the call button, she’d had every intention of calling her father. She knew that it was something that he needed to know about, and it was something that he would probably be the one who handled it in the end. But right before she hit the button with the tiny green phone etched into it, she stopped herself and started over again.

Picking the second person on speed dial instead, she pressed the phone to her ear. With each ring that she had to wait through, her hands trembled more and more. With her holding her hand up, the blood from her palm was starting to trickle down her wrist and the rest of her arm, and it felt like a burning sensation even though she knew that wasn’t what was happening to her.

Right when she thought she was about to burst into tears or steer her car clean off the street into a random storefront, she heard the click of someone answering on the other end of the line.

“Hey, T,” Kozik’s voice came in calm and smooth.

“H-hey,” the short word still managed to get stuck in her throat on the way out.

There was a pause, and when he spoke up again his tone had shifted. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to your place. You’re home, right?” she felt the way that her bottom lip was starting to quiver and tried to ignore it, tried to keep the last few shreds of composure that were keeping her together.

There was rustling on the other end of the line as he said, “I will be in ten.”

The feeling in her chest was as close as she could get to relief in the given circumstances. “Okay.”

“I love you.” Even with all of the uncertainty surrounding whatever the situation was, there was no waver of questioning in his voice when he said that.

Tawnie let out a short breath, one that she had been holding without meaning to. “I love you too.”

She hung up without any more of a goodbye than that. Snapping the phone shut, it dropped into her lap as her hand began trembling violently. The adrenaline of the situation could only blind her for so long, and the ache of pain was getting worse as the minutes ticked by. This wasn’t the usual type of trouble that she had to call anyone about. This trouble, this danger, felt too real and far too close to home.

Any other day, she would’ve been worried about how Kozik managed to get there not even a minute after she did, his bike skidding to a stop in the driveway. He practically threw his helmet once he took it off. Before Tawnie could blink, he was on the driver’s side of the car and opening the door for her.

He was halfway through asking her if she was alright when he saw the blood all over her. His eyes popped open wide, and he was fighting the urge to just climb into the car with her to check her over. The sight of her like that raised a million questions that he desperately wanted immediate answers to, but he stopped himself.

“C’mon,” he said instead, leaning in to loop his arm underneath hers and across her back, “let’s get—”

She flinched away from his touch, not quite ready for the sensation of someone else touching her. It was impossible to miss the pained look on his face, but she didn’t have it in her to apologize. Even on her best days, sorry was not a word that came easy to her. Right now, though, an apology was the last thing that Kozik was looking to get from her.

He stepped to the side and allowed her to get out of the car on her own. “Let’s get inside.”

He walked behind her as they made their way up the short driveway that landed them just off to the side of his house. His neighbors had learned quickly that even if they wanted to be nosey, it was better for them if they weren’t. Still, he walked behind Tawnie and checked their surroundings, also looking to see if anyone had followed her to his house that he needed to worry about.

Reaching around her, he unlocked the front door and pushed it open for her. She silently walked inside, wishing that she felt a little more at ease now that she was with him and safe inside his house, but she couldn’t manage it. It was the first time in a long time that Kozik had ever seen her so quiet.

With her good hand tightly gripping the wrist of her injured one, Tawnie made her way through the house to the bathroom. Kozik followed her, wanting so badly to reach out and try to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder or the small of her back but knowing that it wouldn’t be any help to her in that moment.

She was about to crouch down to open the cabinets under the sink. “Is it—”

“Sit,” he said, motioning to the toilet that had the lid down. “I got it.”

Tawnie nodded, doing as he instructed. Kozik tried not to think about how tight her grip was on her own wrist, or the look that she currently had in her eyes that he didn’t know how to piece apart. He busied himself with turning the sink on so that the water could start to run warm while he got the first aid kit out. Grabbing a clean washcloth from the drawer, he got it damp with warm water and held it out to her in an offer, thinking that she might want to wipe off her arm and what she could of her hand herself if she didn’t want him touching him.

“Thanks,” she said, nearly mumbling as she started to scrub at the blood that was quickly drying on her skin.

He nodded and got into a kneeling position in front of her as he waited for her to finish. She tossed the bloody rag into the sink. She looked at her own hand for a moment, taking in the damage that was done in earnest for the first time since it’d happened.

“Fuck,” she said, her voice steadier and clearer than it had been before.

With the first aid kit open on the floor beside him, Kozik held his hand out in a wordless question to allow him to see what the damage was and what he could do to help. Tawnie hesitated until she looked him in the eyes and remembered where she was and who she was with. Then it came easy, offering her hand out to him to inspect. His touch was gentle despite the callouses on his palm and fingers.

“Jesus,” he said, trying to hide the reaction under his breath but failing.

Tawnie let out a weary chuckle. “Promising.”

It got Kozik to crack a smile, hearing the sarcasm come back into her voice like that even if it was just for a moment. The relief that it brought him was momentary as well as he got back to looking at the state of her hand. The cut was deep—deep enough to need stitches. And while he could do a lot to help take care of her, that was one thing that was outside of his area of expertise.

Looking up at her from where he was kneeling, he gave a small shake of his head. “This is deep, T.”

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be saying to that. “Okay?”

“You’re gonna need stitches and I,” he chuckled weakly, “I can’t do that. I can call—”

“I don’t wanna see anyone right now,” she stopped him before he could get to the end of his thought.

As much as he didn’t want to argue with her in the state that she was in, he also didn’t want things to get worse for her because she didn’t want to get her injuries taken care of. “You gotta get this looked at by a doctor.”

“Am I gonna bleed out before tomorrow?”

“No, but—”

“Then just wrap me up for now and tomorrow I’ll give The Good Doctor a call, alright?”

She phrased it like a question, but Kozik knew her well enough to know that there was only one answer that she’d accept. With a sigh and a nod, he started rooting around the kit he had for disinfectant and the waterproof bandages that he could wrap her hand up with.

He waited until he was about to start really cleaning out her wound before he asked her any questions. “So do I get to know what happened?”

Tawnie shook her head, not in a denial of an answer, but as though now as she was thinking back on it, it seemed so ridiculous. “Some guy came at me when I was at the liquor store today.”

“What guy?”

She shrugged, instantly followed a wince as he flushed out the cut on her hand. She tried to pull away from the pain but Kozik tightened his hold on her so that she couldn’t. It was going to feel way worse before it started to feel any better—they both knew that.

“Some random guy,” she finally said, gritted out through the pain. “Knew Tig’s my dad.”

Kozik raised his eyebrows. “What’d he look like?”

Tawnie was fighting the urge to clench her hand into a fist. “Big fuckin’ dude. Took two hits to the head with a whiskey bottle before he let me go.”

He nodded knowingly. “That explains the hand.”

She shrugged. “I was working with what I had.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

Tawnie shook his head, watching him as he placed a few gauze pads on her palm before getting the roller bandage ready. “Not really. He asked me about being Tig’s kid, then he tried to grab me up. I hit him before I got around to asking for his agenda.” She hissed quietly as she felt the bandage putting pressure on her injured hand. “He wasn’t wearing any kind of kutte. I couldn’t see any tattoos but he had long sleeves on so who fuckin’ knows.”

“I’m sorry you’re getting caught up in all this, T.”

That time when she tried to pull her hand away, it wasn’t because of the physical pain. It got Kozik to look up at her. “What’s all this? Something going on with the club?”

He shrugged to try and make it seem casual, but the slightly panicked look on his face let her know that he definitely just said more than he was meant to. “Not…I mean…it’s the club. There’s always something going on.”

She scoffed. “Is this something the type of something that has random men coming after me in the middle of a store?”

“I—”

“Who the fuck are you guys getting into it with now?”

“Who were we getting into it with last time you asked?” He saw the look on her face and immediately backpedaled. “Sorry.” Clearing his throat, he continued, “You remember those guys who came by the clubhouse and were giving Clay a hard time about the guns?”

Her face contorted in confusion. “Them? Still?”

Kozik shrugged, like he didn’t get it either. “I know.”

“What the hell does any of that have to do with me, though? I don’t help you guys sell your fucking guns.”

He nodded. “And we are all safer for it.” He taped the roller bandage in place and sat back on his heels. Letting his expression grow serious once more, he said, “I got a feeling they’re going after people who are close to the club.” He rested his hand on her knee. “You do match that description.”

“That’s such bullshit.”

He wasn’t going to try and disagree with her, especially since he knew as much as anyone that she was right. “I know. But that’s…that’s how they operate. No one’s untouchable.”

She let out a sigh, and Kozik watched in real time as the exhaustion started to set in as the last of the adrenaline ebbed out of her. “I hate it.”

“Me too, T.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth on her knee. “You wanna shower? I’ll grab you some clean clothes?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Moving his hand from her knee to the sink counter, he used it to balance while he rose back up to his feet. “You call your dad yet?”

She groaned as she stood up as well. “No.”

He chuckled at her reaction. “Want me to call him?”

She chuckled. “You wanna throw yourself in front of that moving bus?”

Leaning in, he kissed her on the temple. “I’ve been run over by that bus before. I’ll be fine.”

“He’s gonna come over, you know,” she called after him as he walked towards the bathroom door.

“Wash the blood off yourself, then.”

She chuckled and shook her head as she watched him go. He was about to pull the door shut behind him when she grabbed his attention one more time. “Hey, Koz?”

He paused, leaning back so that he could see her. “Yeah?”

She gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

He smiled, that soft, boyish charm shining through despite how the day had been going so far. “I always got you, T.”

(Divider by @saradika-graphics 💕)

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[archivalofsins]

Q6: Is there a prisoner you aren’t fond of?

Kazui: To be honest, that'd be Kashiki-chan as well. She shows me things I’m not that fond of seeing.

TL;DR: Kazui is the type that states he was lying to protect others, Yuno is the type who'd say, "I was just being honest" in the face of those she's hurt. Despite being incredibly similar, they were bound to rub each other the wrong way at times because the way they execute things and conduct themselves is so fundamentally different.

It's really not surprising to me that Kazui answered, "Is there a prisoner he's not fond of?" with Kashiki, Yuno. Even though they are the most similar, they are also the antithesis of each other when it comes to implementation.

Yuno believes that, above all, it's more important to be honest to herself. Regardless of if that hurts her or those around her. She won't be bothered to deal with things she doesn't want to or smile for others when she doesn't feel like smiling.

A mindset that she has in a way pushed on others within Milgram including Kazui himself.

20/08/02

Mahiru: Yeah, I’m asking for what you like in the opposite sex! I mean, with a lifestyle like this we have a lot of free time, right? So earlier when I was talking with all the other girls we got onto the topic! It’s not often you get a chance like this to live with a mix of men and women together, so I thought it might be nice to use the chance to talk about stuff like this in preparation for when we leave.

Kazui: Ah…… Haha, I understand. I can see that’d be the sort of thing girls your age would be interested in, huh. How peaceful. What I like in the opposite sex… I don’t know if what I say will really be a good reference for you…… Ah, you know, since I’m at this age. I like a girl who can just smile free of worries. Seeing that’d make my old, tired heart feel young again.

Yuno: Uh-huh, I see, I see. ……that’s a total lie, right?

Kazui: Haha…… Give me a break here. You sure don’t make things easy for people, Kashiki-chan.

Because Yuno can't understand why someone else would bother with lying or putting on airs for the comfort of others or even themselves. She'd rather things be out in the open for what they are instead of needing to label them as good or bad.

This is something she tries to enforce with others she's interested in or views slightly favorably as well regardless of whether she recognizes she's doing it or not.

20/07/08

Yuno: Hey, Mikoto-san. Don’t you get tired being so conscious of others all the time? I mean, you’re free to do what you want, though.

Mikoto: Eh…… Aha, what are you talking about?I’m not being conscious or anything. It’s normal to make sure to get along with everyone, right? I mean, when you put it like that, aren’t you the same, Yun-chan? You’re always smiling and getting on with everyone, too.

Yuno: I don’t smile unless I actually want to. But with you, when you’re talking with other people it’s more like you only smile deliberately. So I kept thinking, don’t your cheeks get tired? Ah, is this just what happens when you become a working adult? ……you see people like that sometimes.

Mikoto: Haha, you don’t mince your words do you. …….that was never my intention, but now that you mention it, yeah, I guess I do. This might’ve been since I started my job too…… But like, if I was rude to everyone I met, all my efforts would come to nothing, right?

Her thought process probably being this person is alright, but they'd be better if they stopped concerning themselves with the thoughts of others or even their own and just did what they wanted to do. Because through not regarding anyone's feelings even hers Yuno has been able to free herself from needing to interrogate whether her actions are good or bad and instead just look at them as things she did that cannot be changed.

This is why she's so quick to draw to attention that Kazui lies to protect himself, but she does it for nothing. Because no one is important to her, not even herself. By removing herself and others from that discussion, she doesn't have to face the thought that these things did matter to her and influence her choices.

Because taking those things into consideration would ultimately ammount to labeling her choices or the outcome of them as good or bad. Something that could lead to regrets. Which,

Q.17 Do you have anything you regret?

Yuno: Regretting things achieves nothing, don’t you think?

If Kazui said the truth is what killed someone, Yuno's very existence embodies that idea. Along with her constant subtle pushing for individuals whom she probably likes to be more honest with themselves. Yuno to Kazui is a daily reminder of the harm being too honest can cause.

It's Yuno because even though I doubt she's being this way with any ill intent, she can be too forward and pushy when it comes to others living in an honest way. Because she believes that being honest and true to herself is what's most important regardless of her or anyone else's feelings/safety.

Just like her namesake implies,

Q.04 What’s the origin of your name?

Yuno: It means to be kind and true to myself.

[TN: Literal meaning of the kanji 優 (yu) and 乃 (no) respectively which make up her name.]

Kazui is shown to dislike this approach of doing things within his second trial voice drama. He also calls Yuno out for being uncaring and self-absorbed during her birthday. Asking why she's helping Shidou care for Mahiru despite her seeming generally disinterested in the well-being and safety of those around her. He's very forward about it or as forward as he can be. He recognizes that Yuno is cold and inconsiderate towards everyone in the pursuit of living in a way true to herself.

So, even though they are the most similar, they are also the most different. Just like in regards to Futa and Kotoko.

To put it very simply, Kazui is the type that claims he was lying to protect others, Yuno is the type who'd say, "I was just being honest" in the face of those she's hurt. Making them both very similar but incredibly likely to rub each other the wrong way at times.

[nicosraf]

My question has SPOILERS! So please look away if u don’t wanna see! Also, I’m sorry for so many questions ahhhhhhh

What is Phanuel’s feelings towards Michael? I know that Lucifer expressed feelings of jealousy over their closeness (or at least that’s how I interpreted it with Lucifer ripping Phanuels face off), but were they unfounded? The way I read Phanuel was more of a platonic friend (especially since he did tease Lucifer, that one time with Michael around— saying that Lucifer talked about Michael a LOT when he wasn’t around). But after the trauma they both went through, I do wonder if their friendship has gotten a lot more intimate since we last saw them.

Also, does Michael ever get jealous in Book 2 because of Lucifer and Baal’s “closeness”? I imagine that Baal and Lucifer get closer in Book 2 simply due to the fact that he was kind of like… the runner-up love interest (?) in Book 1, and the fact that they would be spending a lot of time together after The Fall. (But I’m sure Lucifer is playing with Baal more than he actually cares for him).

Anyway, I’m excited to read Book 2 once it releases! And to read more about Azazel and how gender will be explored more after the creation of Woman. I love your characterizations of the angels and am so, so, so excited about how you’ll write demons :)

(PS I reread Paradise Lost for the first time after high school after I finished ABM and it was a trip)

Hello! Please dw! I am so bad at going through my inbox sometimes but I try really hard and appreciate any asks :')

SPOILERS for ABM (and a tad of A&M) under the cut

Lucifer was less jealous about their closeness and more so blaming Phanuel for Michael not joining him during the rebellion — which is unreasonable. Lucifer basically sees them together and invents this whole scenario where Michael was going to run away to Lucifer but Phanuel stopped him.

'You did this. You’re why Michael denied me. It had to be you.’ He saw it so perfectly in his mind that it had to be true. Michael telling Phanuel that he regretted his decision, that he was going to apologize to Lucifer. Phanuel saying it was a bad idea. Michael, who would have left to find Lucifer and stood with him in the center, surrendering. This was all wrong because of Phanuel; it was his fault...

We know this didn't happen; Michael was sleeping and Phanuel was just there to comfort him. So Lucifer is being unfounded with his beliefs regardless.

But about Phanuel's relationship with Michael — I kinda hesitate to use the word platonic. Angels are very close and I think the lines between friendship and romance are incredibly blurred for them (typical gay friend group lmao). In a short (thought non-canonical) story I wrote a long time ago, I referenced that Phanuel once kissed Michael on the mouth during a celebration, which I still consider probably canon. I guess if I had to put a label to it, they would be more like queer-platonic friends. So, Phanuel and Michael don't have romantic feelings, but they are both respectively very queer and they would be comfortable doing things we might associate to be romantic (cuddling and even sharing a kiss or two).

If Part 2 never occurred, Lucifer could probably watch Phanuel and Michael cuddle and not think that much about it, except maybe pout because he wants to be in Michael's arms at the moment. (He might just squeeze in between them though; what's better than being squished between the angel you love and his nice friend?) Angels are just very queer platonic-y, really. Romance is less about actions for them and more about feeling.

And ohhhoho does Michael ever get jealous of Baal.... I'm hesitating to answer because the relationship between the 3 is hilarious to me and I don't want to give too much away. Also, "runner-up love interest" is making me laugh but it's very true I think.

I guess, if you asked Baal, he would say Michael is very jealous of him and that he loves being married to Lucifer.

If you asked Lucifer, he would say what marriage.

Michael would not reply.

Anyway!!! I'm really glad you're excited for the sequel :') I hope you enjoy it. It's very weird about gender and I'm a bit scared to see how people will react to it but ,, i hope it is good

[cheiyunn]

Kimisute main story [１部 ] Part 6

Side: GYROAXIA

[Sharehouse]

Reon: What’re you reading Miyuki-san? Something important?

Miyuki: Its an article about GENESIS TRAX

Reon: Isn’t GENESIS TRAX…

Ryo: It’s about the label Nayuta’s dad is affiliated with right?

Reon: Gah–! Ryo-san keep it down ! shhh!

Miyuki: …Well Nayuta isn’t even here right now so do ya need to be so uptight and cautious anyway?

Reon: If we’re all noisy when we think he’s not here, there’s a chance he’ll overhear us when we least expect it!

Ryo: Ever since Reon got Nayuta all mad, you’ve been on your toes all the time now~

Reon: …talk about rubbing salt on a wound, Ryo-san! …well you’re right but still…

Miyuki: I mean, he did snap pretty hard at the person who said we should copy SYANA after all

Miyuki: Even I thought that regardless of how fussy and self-centered Nayuta is, that was crossing the line…

Reon: I wonder what happened with that him…

Miyuki: Hm? What happened as in…?

Reon: Cause it’s Nayuta we’re talking about? To feel that much anger and rejection towards his actual parents make you wonder what happened

Ryo: Reon, are you really that curious?

Reon: Eh? Are you guys on the opposite end?

Miyuki: Hm… I’m more of ‘I don’t get it but whatever’ I guess

Miyuki: At least just knowing that ‘That thing’ causes Nayuta to lash out is enough for me?

Ryo: Me too

Ryo: Rather than being concerned about why that bright star was created, it's more important to keep it’s shine clear and not clouded

Miyuki: Plus doesn’t he hate it when we get all nosy?

Miyuki: If he finds out that we’ve been snooping ‘round here and there….

Reon: …uwah, I don’t even want to think about it

Miyuki: You get it?

Ryo: Even if that star was clouded, it doesn’t hide the fact that there is that star

Ryo: The stars are always shining, and we need to protect it. So the people down below can see it.

Ryo: That role is probably also my atonement. The reason I came here to Earth…

Miyuki: …we don’t need to react right?

Reon: First one to react loses…!

Ryo: You two think the same right?

Miyuki/Reon: Totally!

.

[Dreadnought Music office]

Mashu: I’ll get to the point. How is Asahi.

Kenta: …in honesty, not very well

Kenta: Since the news of SYANA’s vocalist Iryuu Koga’s return, he’s been extremely agitated

Mashu: I see

Kenta: To see him get that nervous just with news, if the time comes where we need to meet him directly…

Mashu: Are you worried?

Kenta: Obviously. If Nayuta isn’t able to sing what are we supposed to do

Mashu: However, he can’t keep avoiding the issue either 

Mashu: …this is a hurdle for the future

Kenta: For Nayuta..?

Mashu: For everyone.

Mashu: Your practice time is nearing, it's best you get going.

Mashu: I also have a separate meeting to attend to

Kenta: …I understand. Excuse me.

.

[Studio]

Nayuta: CUT IT!

Reon: …hah….hah…! What now…!

Nayuta: Fuck. This isn’t enough to compete with him… more, something more…

Miyuki: My bad, Nayuta. I was a bit off on this one

Nayuta: It's not just Sakaigawa. Everyone was. From the top…

Reon: How many times are you gonna make us repeat the intro..!

Nayuta: CLAM IT! STOP COMPLAINING AND GET IT TOGETHER !

Reon: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO KEEPS COMPLAINING !?

Kenta: Reon stop. …. Nayuta, its best to take a quick break

Nayuta: …tch!

.

--[Door opens]--

???: Pardon my intrusion.

Nayuta: y-you’re… !?

Kenta: Iryuu Koga..!? why… why are you… here…

Iryuu: Does it still bother you? Just when, will you be able to bring something that’ll entertain me. I’m waiting, kiddo.

Nayuta: ….!!

[polyamorouspunk]

How To Be Punk

“Do no harm, take no shit” is a really good mantra, but it’s a hard line to balance. I know personally, I probably lean a bit too hard to the “take no shit” side, which can lead me to sometimes coming off as combative, argumentative, defensive, and so on. It’s not the best look, I know. But I want to talk about leaning too much to the “do no harm” side. Maybe I’m not qualified to talk about how “some of you have got to get meaner” as a certifiable asshole, but like. Some of you have got to get meaner -a certifiable asshole.

I’m going to use myself as an example. I’m an asshole. I’m a dick. I’m a cunt. I’m a bitch. I’m a douchbag. Is that how you even spell that? I’m a bastard. You get the point.

If I call you stupid or something because I’m frustrated, it’s totally not cool. But if I’m a dick to you CALL ME OUT ON IT. I’m not saying two wrongs make a right but also! Don’t let people walk all over you! Don’t grovel and apologize to someone when THEY’RE mean to you!

As someone who is open about being a really toxic person in the past let me tell you: the best thing for me during those times I was being a complete asshole was for someone to tell me I was being an asshole. This isn’t me saying “if you’re in an abusive relationship you should fight back”. No. You do what you think is best there. But if you have a friend whose had a rough day and you see them taking it out on you, sometimes you should call them out on it. Say “I’m sorry you’re frustrated but taking it out on me is not appropriate.” And honestly? Most of the time I know when I’m being a dick. But there are times when I didn’t! There were times I was so clouded by my own negative emotions I didn’t realize I was hurting other people. And how they react to that tells you the kind of person they are.

There are times when people tell me I’m being mean and I’m hurting there feelings and I’ve said things like “good” or “deal with it”. That’s not someone you should be friends with! At least not until they get help! I need space to explore how I can react to people saying something like that when I’m just as upset as they are so that I don’t react like that, but unfortunately I haven’t been able to find that in my therapy journey in a long time. It’s something I need help with.

It might be really easy to say “you could just not be a dick about it” but honestly sometimes it’s REALLY hard not to be a dick about something. It’s not an excuse but I want people to understand that the whole “I’m so angry I’m seeing red” thing and the “well they just snapped” thing happens, and it happens a lot. And it can be terrifying!

Most people don’t like being asshole. I don’t like being an asshole. I don’t like feeling like I should put a warning label on myself like “sometimes I’m a dick” because even that feels like something a dick would do.

But! I want more people to stand up to someone like me. Challenge people like me. Tell them it’s not appropriate or it’s not okay. Learn to leave a situation where the other person isn’t being compliant. You’re worth more than someone like me going “good” or “deal with it” when you tell them they’re upsetting you.

There’s a slogan out there that says “Fuck Politness”. And on the surface that seems like such an asshole thing to say! Aren’t we all entitled to politeness on a basic human level? We sure are- but that can be revoked.

“Fuck politeness” means that women shouldn’t have to worry about getting murdered for rejecting a man’s advances- and vice versa- at all, regardless of whether they were nice about it at all. “Fuck politeness” means if someone is giving you bad vibes, you’re allowed to end a conversation and remove yourself from the situation so you can feel safe again, regardless if it’s “polite” or not. “Fuck politeness” means not putting up with people and being such a people-pleaser to the point some day you might feel unsafe saying no.

Being punk isn’t “I love all my friends and I want a world where everyone gets along and we’re all happy and healthy and loved”. It’s not people pleasing. It’s learning how to say “no”. It’s learning how to firmly say “no”, and when that doesn’t work, it’s about forcefully saying “no”.

[will80sbyers]

THANK you, bisexuality has always meant attraction regardless of gender 🙌 people can call themselves what they want of course and every pan person I’ve met has always been well-meaning but sometimes it annoys me that we have to keep clarifying this… bisexuality is attraction regardless of gender, there’s definitions of bisexuality dating all the way back to the 70s that state this… meanwhile pansexuality was coined Way later and it was initially defined as ‘attraction to men, women and trans ppl’ which implies trans ppl are another category not included in regular labels, which is so transphobic. I know the definition has shifted to many things now in an attempt to not be transphobic but all any new definitions keep doing is implying the other labels are something different than they are. Like saying pan is for when you’re also attracted to nonbinary ppl? Wrong, anyone can be attracted to nonbinay ppl, including straight ppl, bc you can’t tell if someone is nonbinary by just looking at them… There’s no need to create an entire new label for the inclusion of nonbinary ppl when other labels never excluded them in the first place... Or saying pan is when gender is not a factor in attraction whereas bi is when gender IS a factor? Well attraction doesn’t work like that, it’s not a mathematical equation, and also here we have again a case of the pan label redefining other labels in order to define itself. Anyway sorry for this rant bc you probably already know this. I really don’t want to upset pan ppl and I think they can obviously call themselves whatever they want, if the word pan feels more like them then obviously that’s beautiful❤️ I’m just pretty tired of anyone trying to redefine MY label in the process of trying to define their own. Like bisexuality is attraction regardless of gender and if that’s how you understand pansexuality then congrats, they’re the same, and don’t yell at me to “get educated”, educate yourself first, I ask this kindly… Anyway. I know they mean well so I feel like an asshole but this has been bugging me and many of my bi friends for a while. If this hurt anyone I’m sorry but I’m tired of having to bite down my frustration in being misunderstood all bc it might hurt pan ppl meanwhile no one cares if it hurts ME to be misunderstood like this. I hope the pan ppl reading this know this: I rlly don’t hate you , we are siblings in queer solidarity, I love you, but please try to understand us❤️

And Dani thank you for making me feel heard ❤️

Yesss absolutely, same I have no problems with people that feel like the pan label is more appropriate for them but I think it's important to remember that bisexuality has always included us non-binary and trans people... and also all the other micro labels of bi+ like "regardless of gender" or with varying degrees etc etc are all under the bisexual umbrella, that's inherently included and I don't feel any need to go outside of the bi definition even with all the stereotypes on our community that may make us want to not take that label to avoid being stereotyped as cheaters or evil etc

Personally the label that feels most me is bisexual and I love it, glad to know you're feeling heard!! Always be proud ✨

[moonstruckme]

i know other people have talked about it but god you spoke to my soul about bisexuality and feeling "uncertified"

i'm a virgin who has never had a romantic partner and it's like...what do i know? and i'm terrified that my lack of experience is just going to haunt me and turn away any partners, and i do usually only imagine my future with a man romantically, so is it comphet or a preference for men?

but i will say, i did drunkenly kiss one of my afab friends and that was affirming, but it's just so hard to date and worse find queer people to date to really test it out

it's hard and it's a lonely feeling

Omg first of all I had to look up “comphet” and I find it sort of hilarious that we’ve shortened something that sounds so militant and imitating into like a casual singular word, but also I don’t think a lack of sexual or romantic experience makes you any less valid! It seems (to me, in my opinion, so grains of salt) like in media we often see/hear about people who are perhaps more sexually active discovering their sexuality through experiences, but if you’re someone who grows up without many romantic experiences I think you can still say you know yourself well enough assign any label you’d like (or say fuck labels if that feels better for yoy) and go through life with confidence. One thing I’ve really gotten out of talking to people today is that dating is about figuring out what you like, but you don’t need to prove anything to anyone and just meeting people wholeheartedly on an individual basis will probably be more fulfilling than seeking out certain experiences to figure yourself out. It’ll probably happen along the way anyways! And we never get all the answers in life, so if some parts of us are still mysteries as we age, more’s the adventure.

Sorry lovely that was such a rant, but tldr everything you said makes perfect sense to me and I get the struggle (as you’ve seen) but I do think you should trust in your ability to know yourself regardless <3

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hi, not about positivity posts, but I was wondering if there is such a thing as pain-genic multiplicity? I've noticed in myself I seem to have like split identities (like wanting to go by different names and pronouns and stuff, feeling like my own action were Not Mine), more internal arguing, sometimes not remembering small amounts of time recently, not being able to get a grip on what I did today or yesterday and definitely not this week, and having more differences in what I remember from the past (I probably have dissociative amnesia regardless). I've had several therapists confirm I dissociate, it's just difficult/scary to get them to consider any multiplicity. Especially when it fluctuates, I have times I don't think I've any symptoms, but then, when I'm in more pain I notice so many and I am so confused. Do you know the answer or someone who does? is pain -genic a thing? Does my experiences sound like anything?

Hi! So in general, we think “-genic” in system spaces refers to the origins of a system, not what designates when headmates front. So if you notice your headmates, parts, or alters more when you’re in pain, that doesn’t necessarily mean that these headmates were formed right then because of that pain (if that makes sense?).

In fact, if you’re traumagenic (or have a dissociative disorder like DID), your alters may be fronting or interacting with you when you’re in pain as a means of protecting the system. We wouldn’t call something like this “paingenic” (although alters can absolutely split from trauma involving physical pain!).

For example, we have alters in our system who only front or interact with the others in times of great stress. We used to partially identify with the “stressgenic” label, but for us, it is apparent that these alters formed due to trauma - specifically trauma related to overwhelming stressful events. So now, when we’re really stressed, they front or reach out to our host because that is their role in our system.

Not every system uses or benefits from member roles or origin labels, but many do! In the end, you are welcome to use whatever language you wish that works to describe your system and your experience. It sounds like you go through a lot of things we go through as a DID system (wrt amnesia, internal conflicts, depersonalization, derealization, etc), but ultimately it is up to you and your system to pinpoint the labels that work best for you!

P.S. If you do find that your system origins are directly related to physical pain, or that you only tend to split new alters or headmates when you’re in pain, there’s nothing wrong with identifying as xenogenic, or coining your own xeno-origin that best fits your system!

🌸 Margo and 🐢 Kip

[singularsoldier]

One of my biggest complaints about lesbianism on this site is that I haven’t seen a remote whisper of similar discourse surrounding gay men.

Heads up, a lot of this is ranting/venting so im probably gonna repeat stuff or not make a ton of sense in some places:

Like, a man was married with kids before realizing he’s gay. Okay, cool. You’re still gay dude. A man dates a boygirl person. Still gay who cares. He thinks a female celebrity is stunning. Duh! Look at her! But the second a lesbian is inserted into those exact scenarios, its a race to micro label and argue over what she can call herself.

Previously married with kids, dating a boygirl, thinks a male celebrity is hot, all of these are used against the lesbian identity and can be boiled down to elementary “eww you have BOY cooties” which leads into terf territory. Its a rehash of gold star lesbianism and ultimately shames lesbians who were unsure of their identity or found themselves in comphet relationships for safety/lack of support. Hell, its shaming lesbians for even thinking a random person is objectively hot bc they ID as a man.

Moving on, a similar thing happens when someone who previously ID’d as gay/lesbian realizes they’re attracted to multiple genders. Even if its just romantic for one and sexual for the other, the gay person is ultimately seen as bisexual. No further questions. The lesbian? Once again, its a race to label and argue.

This is where “bi” lesbian loses me. I don’t see anyone calling gay men bi gays for being in those previous scenarios I listed. A bi guy who only dates women and sleeps with men is bi. End of story. Not a peep about being a bi gay. I have, however, seen multiple definitions of bi lesbianism that include those exact examples. A lesbian got exposed to BOY COOTIES so now they can’t call themself a lesbian.

Or, rather, a woman only likes men romantically but since she isn’t dropping her panties for him, she’s still a lesbian. Is she only bisexual if she has sex with men? What if she only dates girls and sleeps with guys? Does that make her a bi straight? Once again, the second a woman enters the equation, everything goes out the door and we have to argue about Person Who Doesn’t Have Sex With ____. Why is being bisexual regardless of how it presents a bad thing? I haven’t seen anyone give a solid reason other than “i dont wanna be bi” or parroting some kind of terf rhetoric.

Adding to that, in a lot of the discourse, it honestly feels like bigender/multigender people are being used as a gotcha. Like I said before, a gay guy dating a boygirl is just a gay guy dating a boygirl. A lesbian dating the same person? “They identify as a boy!!! You clearly like men!!” which, ultimately, ignores the full scope of that person’s identity. They aren’t just a boy in the same way they aren’t just a girl. I guarantee no one would jump down a gay guy’s throat and say “ummm ACTUALLY she says she’s a girl so she makes you not gay”.

The same gotcha issue comes about with trans people. It’s as if saying “I’m not attracted to men” equals not calling a trans woman a woman. I only ever see terf accusations float around when a lesbian makes that statement. Never when a gay guy says he isn’t attracted to women. If your first thought when hearing that is “well they MUST be talking about trans people” then you have a problem, and anyone who actually refuses to date someone bc they’re trans is the actual exclusionist.

Gay and lesbian have a region of gender identity that falls out of bounds. A lot of people do. Yet the level of discourse over everything I mentioned is drastically different between them. God forbid a lesbian say “oh I dated a gay once but realized I wasn’t attracted to men”. They’ll get called a terf, an exclusionist, and every name under the sun. If a gay guy said the same about a woman? Two notes and its gone.

[fictionkinfessions]

I miss you so much. We tried to kill each other so many times in our earlier days, and the one time we almost succeeded left both of us changed forever. When we met for the first time after that night, I remember flying into such a state of panic that I blacked out and came back to myself on the street outside your apartment. Despite the fear and the confusion and the anger that seeing you again caused me to feel, nothing was as strong as the feeling of guilt and regret for what I had done to you. I was so relieved you were alive, but I was disgusted by what I had done to you.

I really thought I was a monster, just as you had always accused me of being. I’m sorry for what I did. I’ll always be sorry.

I know I kept coming back. I kept delivering your groceries to you, and eventually I started coming over without that as my excuse to see you. I don’t know why, exactly, but I know you kept letting me in. Maybe you felt like you had to? I hope it wasn’t because you feared what I might do if you didn’t. That’s besides the point, though. You let me in. You kept letting me in. You made me drinks, you let me sleep on your couch, you talked to me while you worked, and I sat there on that couch and listened and listened and listened even though the subjects you spoke of were always things I didn’t really understand. The evidence that you were there and present and alive was enough.

I apologized. I know I apologized. Too much, probably. Definitely, actually. You told me not to almost every time. I remember trying to once, and you told me, “Don’t do that. I brought this upon myself.” And while that may be true to some degree, it doesn’t erase my guilt. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m glad you survived, though.

I think at some point you and I became friendly. I don’t know if we ever talked about that or gave it a label because both of us were the type of men to avoid talking about our feelings lest they manifest themselves in a way neither of us would like to acknowledge. But I remember coming over after a long day of work, and you let me in again, and I sat on the couch, and you asked me what happened. When I didn’t respond, you took your cane and moved yourself over to sit beside me on the couch. You pulled my head into your lap and held it there like I was worthy of that closeness. You ran your fingers through my hair, and that act was such a forgiveness that I had no idea how to process it. I think I may have cried were I not so scared of my own emotions.

I know I was a handful. I’m sorry for that.

I remember that I loved you. I remember not knowing that it was love until a mutual friend of ours pointed it out.

I don’t know if I ever told you. I don’t know if you ever knew. I don’t know if we ever progressed from friendship into something more. But I was thrilled you wanted me around, regardless of why that may have been.

I hope that wherever you are in this life, you’re doing well. I love you so much, and I miss you so strongly I sometimes find myself crying quietly in my bed at night.

I’m still sorry, by the way. For everything.

I wonder if you still forgive me?

🐸

[lavender-creame]

matt watson new years kiss at a shitty house party. I jump up and down and do 15 backflips at the thought of it

This is so late, I am so sorry! I made it extra long to make up for all the time it took<33 This ask made me giggle super hard though so thank you lol

New Year, New Label (Matt Watson x Reader)

| Minors DNI | 18+ only | 3k words Summary: Matt drags you to a New Years party Warnings: Just fluff and kissing, mentions of smoking and drinking a/n: Enjoy this holiday special babes, even if it is a week or two late <33 You can also find my stuff on a03 at lavender_creame

It did not surprise you when Matt, your best friend, told you about the huge party he was planning on going to for New Year’s Eve. You were; however, surprised by the sheer, hell-bent determination Matt had to get you to go with him. It had been days since he told you about it; several days of you turning him down so you could have a nice relaxing night to yourself full of wine and bubble baths, and so it had also been several days straight of his non-stop pleading and whining.

Matt knew you well enough, and you knew him, too. In other words, he knew that you would eventually get annoyed and accept, and you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you did.

Needless to say, at 8:00 pm on December 31st, you found Matt at your door dressed in a cardigan and with a cocky smile.

“I knew you’d say ‘yes’,” Matt greeted you smugly.

Rolling your eyes, you replied as you stepped out to meet him, “You’re unbearable. Do you know how lucky you are? There’s no way you’d have any friends if not for me.”

He laughed and presented his elbow out for you to take in a way that was partially sarcastic and partially genuine; you took it regardless. He walked you over to his car, only letting go to hold open the passenger door.

“Maybe so, but then again, neither would you,” he shut the door immediately after he spoke, leaving you to scoff to yourself.

You and Matt were best friends, even despite how often the two of you bickered. It was so common that if you had a nickel for every time someone called you an old married couple, you’re sure you’d be wearing nicer clothes than the outfit you were currently wearing. The two of you; however, were not a couple. Sure you had your moments where you looked into Matt’s eyes and wondered of ‘what else could be’, but he meant too much to you, and so you decided not to take any chances.

Finally sliding into his seat, Matt started the car and put it into reverse, moving his arm to reach behind the head of your seat in order to see out his back window. As he did so, you blushed, catching a waft of his cologne, noticing the way his shirt’s neckline stretched to reveal his collarbone. As he drove the two of you to the house of whoever was throwing this party (he of course didn’t tell you much about it ahead of time), he let you use the aux cord, yet still demanded you play a song or two of his choosing.

“Alright, so be honest with me,” you spoke above the music.

Matt, who was focusing on driving, gave you a quick glance and a nod as he turned down the music a couple of notches.

“How big is this party?”

He laughed, “Slightly smaller than you’d think, but definitely bigger than you’d probably appreciate.”

You groaned in response, opting to turn back up the music instead of answering him.

As you turned down the street that the house was on, you already heard music playing and saw cars lined up and down the pavement.

 You could hear laughter and loud chatter coming from inside the large home and even saw a few people wandering outside to smoke or make conversation. Matt drove up to the front of the house before stopping the car, leaving to open your door for you. You got out, smiling at Matt with gratitude, and made your way into the house, immediately feeling the warmth of the house contrast with the cool December air.

In the main room, everyone was talking and dancing wildly, some smoking, some just having fun, lounging around. Matt followed you inside, grinning at the look of displeasure on your face. He knew you’d rather be doing something else, but he was thankful you came, nevertheless. He pulled you away from the entrance and towards the kitchen. There, Matt grabbed two beers and shoved one toward you. You accepted it gratefully, taking a sip, eager to take the edge off the party a bit. Once you both got a drink, you turned to face each other again.

“It’s not really my scene,” you admitted, looking around the room.

Matt nodded, “Yeah, I figured. But you’ll end up having a good time, I just know it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because it’s a party. With me. What could be better?” he said simply.

“Right, right,” you sighed sarcastically, “Why did you insist on me being here, anyway? Ran out of girlfriends to drag around?”

Matt shrugged, “No. I brought you cause I’m your best friend, and as your best friend, it’s my responsibility to make sure you enjoy yourself tonight.”

With a roll of your eyes, you relented, “Fine, I’ll try. For now, anyway.”

Matt grinned brightly and threw an arm around you, pulling you close to him. As your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment, he smiled softly. You felt your heartbeat speed up slightly as you gazed at his handsome features, his blue eyes bright against his pale skin. Your gaze lingered on his lips for a moment longer before snapping away, embarrassed.

You cleared your throat and spoke softly, hoping he didn’t notice your sudden awkwardness. “So, shall we get going then so I can ‘enjoy myself’?”

Matt nodded happily, “We shall. Now, let me prove to you that I do, in fact, have other friends.”

The introductions began fairly smoothly and you were glad to find most of them were friendly; a few were pretty drunk already, but overall even they seemed nice.

However, there was still a stream of anxiety that rose up your spine every time Matt would step away for a moment. Even though he’d introduced you to people, you didn’t feel like you clicked with any of them enough to talk to them for an extended period, but when Matt came back with another beer for you, you did feel a little better. Was it the alcohol or the way that Matt got it for you without needing to ask you, just knowing you’d appreciate it, or maybe the way his fingers gently brushed against yours, the way he patted you on the back and told you that he ‘knew his friends would like you’ ? You weren’t sure, but either way as the party continued, your uneasiness slowly lessened.

“Oh shit! I didn’t think you’d show up,” Matt turned away from you, greeting someone who just walked in the door.

The man was tall and stocky, but a bit shorter than Matt. He had longer brown hair that was tied up into a low ponytail and a friendly demeanor that calmed you down.

“Matthew! It’s been a while,” the man chuckled before turning to you, who was standing a bit awkwardly behind Matt. “This your girl I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Both you and Matt blushed at the implications that came with the man’s statement before Matt choked out a reply, “Uh, yeah, kinda. She’s a super close friend of mine. Y/N, meet Ryan; Ryan, meet Y/N.”

Ryan stuck out his free hand, offering it to you, “Nice to meet ya.”

Smiling, you shook his hand gently and replied, “Nice to meet you, too.”

Before either of you could react further, however, you heard a voice call out, “Anyone else up for beer pong? We need one more person!”

Matt’s eyes lit up as he immediately looked towards you for approval. “This is perfect! I wanted you and Ryan to have some time to get to know each other, anyway. Please, please, please let me just go do one round,” he gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed and nodded hesitantly, watching Matt immediately scurry off into the other room, leaving you and Ryan.

Ryan let out a slow and quiet laugh. “That’s Matt for you. Anyway, where can I get a drink around here?”

You gestured vaguely through the crowd. “Over by the entrance to the kitchen is a cooler. It’ll probably take a while for him to come back. I somehow doubt he’ll actually only play one round. What do you say we find a spare seat on one of the couches and ‘get to know each other’?” you imitated Matt.

“Sounds great,” Ryan said with a grin, “I don’t know if you can tell by my more than fashionably late arrival, but I am not much of a party guy, myself.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, “It seems we have a lot in common then.”

Ryan nodded before you made your way through the crowd, sliding onto the couch as you watched him walk over to the cooler. He grabbed a couple of beers, then he plopped down beside you, starting up a conversation.

After talking for some time though, Ryan asked the question that had obviously been on his mind all night, “Alright, let me get this right,” he started, “so you and Matt aren’t dating?”

You shook your head, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. “No, we’re just good friends.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow at you. “No, Matt and I are good friends. Good friends don’t look at each other the way Matt looks at you, and I take it you don’t usually turn red at the mention of your good friends either.”

Shocked, you began to try to mumble out some sort of reply. “Well, um-” obviously beginning to panic a bit.

He let out a small laugh, holding his hands up, “Woah now, calm down. No harm meant, promise. Your secret is safe with me, of course.”

You sighed and Ryan spoke, “So…” he paused for a moment, seeming hesitant as to whether or not he should say whatever it was that he was thinking, “If you’re not dating then what are you doing here? I mean you don’t exactly look thrilled to be at this party.”

You hesitated for a moment before responding, “I’m not really sure myself, to be honest. I mean besides you, I haven’t met anyone I clicked with, and now I kinda just want to go home.”

Ryan glanced at the large tv across the room, noticing the time. “What? There are only 9 more minutes until New Year. You might as well stay at least until then.”

You shrugged.

“I see,” Ryan said before standing up, “I could use a cigarette, are you willing to step outside for a moment? Then we can come back and watch the ball drop and I can give you a ride home if Matt doesn’t show.”

You glanced at the clock on your phone noting the time: 11:52. Another minute had already passed and Matt still hadn’t gotten back from doing whatever it was he was doing. You stood to meet Ryan and followed him outside onto the back porch.

You were greeted by the cool air and calmed by the night sky. You forgot just how loud the party was until you were outside, where it was much quieter.

Ryan spoke as he lit his cigarette. “I heard they’re lighting off fireworks at midnight.”

"Oh, really?”

He nodded, bringing the tip to his lips.

Figuring you might as well make yourself comfortable, you took a seat on the stairs in front of you, sitting below Ryan. You looked up at the night sky above you and thought about Matt, you then thought about Ryan’s question. No matter how you searched, you couldn’t find a better answer than you had already given. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you came. You didn’t want to, especially now. You could have been home getting wasted on wine, but instead you were here talking to a friend of a friend.

“Do you actually think he likes me, Ryan?” you suddenly said.

He furrowed his eyebrows and ashed his cigarette off to the side, onto the pavement. “Why do you ask?”

“I guess I’m just confused because he left the very second he had a chance to play beer pong, probably with some other chick, and he didn’t even come back.”

Ryan looked at you, obviously confused. “Y/N, he introduced you to nearly everyone he knows. He literally showed you off. Don’t take him leaving too personally, that’s just kinda ‘him’.” He paused to gauge your reaction; you nodded. “I mean, shouldn’t you know that best? There’s no way you’ve never noticed his tendency to just run off, say things, or do things without thinking. He usually regrets it later, anyway.”

Before you could reply, you heard the back door open behind the two of you.

It was Matt.

“Y/N? Oh my god, Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you, I’m so sorry.” He was obviously distressed, had some liquid poured down the front of his shirt like he had been splashed, and permanent marker up and down his arms. “So I was playing beer pong, but then I lost horribly, and so then they made me-” Ryan interrupted him with a step forward and a pat on the back.

Ryan then leaned in close and whispered something in Matt’s ear that you were too far away to understand before walking inside. “I’m going to grab another beer and watch the ball drop. In case I don’t see you again before I head out, it was great meeting you, Y/N.” He closed the door, leaving you and Matt alone on the porch.

Matt stood awkwardly in front of you with his hands in his pockets until he quickly took out his phone and checked the time. “There’s like less than two minutes until the ball drops if you’re willing to spend these last couple minutes of the year with me, and before you say anything, I really meant to come back immediately, I swear!”

He moved to sit down next to you and you could smell the beer coating his cardigan; he looked exhausted.

“I’m sorry regardless, though, even if I didn’t have too much of a choice in the matter. I dragged you to this party, and you didn’t even have a good time.”

You wanted to be mad, you really did, but looking at the scribbles on his arms and the apologetic look on his face, you could tell he was genuine, and so the only thing you could do was laugh.

“Ugh. Okay, fine. I’ll let you off the hook just this one time, but only because Ryan kept me company and was super nice.”

“Yeah, he’s super cool- see! I told you I have other friends besides you!”

You rolled your eyes, but still smiled, nevertheless.

The two of you looked up at the sky as you heard the faint sound of the crowds inside counting down to midnight.

‘10, 9-”

“Actually, now that I think about it, I may have a few too many friends.” Matt suddenly said.

You looked at him confused, “What?”

‘8, 7-’

“I mean you met all of them, I just have so many, it’s hard to keep up.”

“Matt, what the hell are you getting at?”

‘6, 5-’

“I guess what I’m saying is with all my friends, how am I supposed to make sure you know that you’re the most important one even when shit like this happens?”

‘4, 3-’

“Matt we’re literally best friends, just tell people that. Tell people we’re good friends.”

“No, me and Ryan are good friends. You need to have some other label I think.”

Matt suddenly felt much closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and you couldn’t pull your gaze away from his eyes, the stars reflecting into them.

‘2-’

“So what does that make us, now?” You whispered.

Matt placed a gentle hand onto your cheek.

‘1, Happy New Year!’

Your lips met, and everything made sense. You knew why you were here: Matt. You were here because your best friend, or whatever you and he were, wanted you to come to this party, and you said yes because you would follow Matt anywhere or do anything for him. He was so excited about this party and you were just happy that he invited you; all these friends, and it was you he decided to invite.

The kiss was soft and tender; you kissed him back. His skin was warm against yours as he gently moved his other hand to your other cheek, deepening the kiss. The fireworks began going off, but you could barely hear them; there was too many other sensations overwhelming you. He no longer smelt like his normal cologne, it was just faintly there, and his lips tasted of alcohol. You felt him everywhere and he felt you too. Your pulse beat under his thumb, reminding him that the moment was, in fact, real. He felt your hands grip the collar of his shirt, tugging, longing.

You were glad to be there; in the backyard of some stranger’s house at night with Matt’s warm hands holding you, running through your hair, reaching down to intertwine with your hand. He pulled away for a moment to press a kiss to your forehead, before giving you one last kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t care what you want to call me, Y/N, but I’m yours if you’ll take an idiot like me.” He said before leaning in again, kissing you. You felt yourself smiling despite your best attempts not to.

Matt knew you well enough, and you knew him, too. In other words, he knew that you would eventually get annoyed and take him, and you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you did.

“Of course. You’re my idiot after all.”

You and Matt were best friends, even despite how often the two of you bickered. It was common that you’d get teased for arguing like an old married couple, and now, you could finally think about the possibility of it being a reality one day.