#is a fundamental part of what they build everything on now. they grow together.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i have many many thoughts about rose & tentoo and how their relationship would evolve in this verse. about how you can't just take the love you have for one person and put it on someone else. not even a clone, a regeneration, a metacrisis. about how that doesn't mean you can't love them, or that you can't fall in love with them the same way, but that love has to be for them.

[barrenclan]

Ok so I adore basically everything about the most recent issue but my absolute favoritest thing is Slugpelt's section because like. Despite everything a part of her is still grieving over him. It doesn't undermine her anger if anything it probably adds to it but it still hurts so much more than if the betrayal wasn't there

There's a lot of loaded behavior in four short panels for Slugpelt and Rainhaze. He betrayed her horribly, murdered her daughter, and joined the villains attacking her. But he is never going to stop being her brother, no matter how much she wishes he could be. He's never going to stop being the person who held her when she was little while she cried. It's completely impossible for her to separate those two parts of him in her mind. Pinepaw also struggles with this;

Because Rainhaze was such a different person in very formative parts of both of their lives, there is just a part of them that will never be able to fully let that image of him go. And being aware of that is horribly painful, because they want to hate him so badly and simply for what he's done.

Slugpelt also has extra complicated feelings because of her relationship to Dustfeather and Rainhaze. Without going off on rambling tangents, the emotional abuse she endured while growing up led her to form an idea in her head of herself as the "broken one", while Rainhaze was the "good one". Despite how fragile she felt herself, she could always rely on him to be the one who had everything together - no matter if she resented or appreciated him for it, depending on what she was going through. But if Rainhaze was actually just as "broken", what does that make her?

Slugpelt doesn't think of herself as good, or whole, or happy. Dustfeather's parenting constantly posed them as opposites to each other, Rainhaze doing everything "good" while she did everything "bad". That dichotomy became a part of her fundamental understanding of who she is as a person. But if things have been so rapidly, utterly destroyed, she's left on shaky foundations while still trying to build and mend relationships with other people, like her children. Rainhaze was such an importat part of her life that him being torn out of it leaves her unsure of what to even think. Does that make both of them "broken"? Who's she supposed to be now?

[tobi-smp]

the problem with talking about ghostbur's relation to wilbur is that going too far in Either direction muddles the waters.

people like to think of ghostbur as an entirely separate entity from wilbur, where nothing about him informs wilbur as a character. this often comes packed with dehumanization, either of Wilbur (with ghostbur being the Good version of wilbur while wilbur is the bad) or of Ghostbur (why does it matter how anybody treats ghostbur when he isn't Really wilbur).

and it's strange and uncomfortable ! because ghostbur so clearly gives us an insight on wilbur as a person. we learn so much About wilbur Through ghostbur. it's just ! absurd to use one to lessen the other when they're so clearly different views of the same Whole.

but at the same time, I Remember ghostbur begging for personhood. I Remember ghostbur begging to have his feelings taken seriously, to be seen as more than just a joke. I remember ghostbur building tommy a home in logstedsire and mourning when it was lost. I remember him mourning new l'manberg. I remember him wanting to bring wilbur back. I remember how tommy mourned him. built him a grave a Grieved him when nobody else did because they didn't think they had to. why would they, when wilbur was right there in front of them? I remember, I Remember.

and the thing About ghostbur is that I Do think that he is a reflection of wilbur. it's ridiculous to try to say that one doesn't inform us of the other.

but I think about how much of his character is wrapped around this desperate want for Personhood. trying to figure out who he is, to carve a place for himself as the memory of someone who was already gone and yet a fully formed being perfectly capable of feeling emotion.

and I think that, too, is a reflection on wilbur.

ghostbur didn't want to be wilbur because Wilbur didn't want to be wilbur anymore. but wilbur didn't know What to be either. trying to break out of the mold he made for himself and figure out what it means now to live as a Person with agency and feelings that matter.

wilbur didn't kill himself because it was an inevitable part of his story as the villain, he did it because he was sad. learning how to be someone who can admit that was Hard.

he'd cried as the president of l'manberg over the pressure of being responsible for everyone, of not being able to live up to what he thought he had to be. and we learned that from ghostbur.

and like ! it's exactly Because of all of this that I can't find it in me to deny ghostbur his personhood. to look at someone who once begged people to realize that he has feelings that Matter, that the things that happen to him Matter because he has agency, because he's a person, and to say No.

I had a theory, once, that the thing that made ranboo Ranboo is that he was half dead. there was the enderwalk that remembered everything, and there was ranboo who lived as a separate antonymous person. ranboo is, in a way, a reflection of this other person, and yet he's not Lesser as a person either. ranboo being formed around a smaller pool of memories means that he grows Differently from this enderwalk version of himself. his personality shifts, the choices he makes are different, even if fundamentally the building blocks are shared.

I had a theory, then, that the whole point of ranboo dying was to have this enderwalk and our ranboo Fuse. not into the whole person that ranboo was split from, but into the New person that they make together.

and that's how I like to conceptualize wilbur and ghostbur. not two unrelated entities and yet both People in their own right.

moreover, that's exactly what I would've liked for them as well.

[one-idea]

Now let’s look at how the East Blue crew relates to each other. I already talked about their relationships with Ace over here. Now let’s look at the crew itself.

Kuina and Reiju.

Just like Sanji and Zoro they have a tense relationship because of their backgrounds

Kuina was taught to reject her femininity in favor of strength. She grew up in a culture where girls couldn’t be strong. So she rejected traditional feminine traits to make sure her opponents took her seriously.

Her hair is short. She doesn’t wear skirts, make up or care for her over all appearance. She’s strong and honorable and everything she believes a swordsman has to be.

Reiju grew up in a place where she was expected to be as strong as her brothers. Her gender wasn’t a weakness, her father definitely favored her brothers but she was trained right along side them. But she also had her mom. Her mom who was kind and soft and strong in so many ways that people don’t see. Her mom who even when everything was falling apart still put herself together and looked presentable for her kids.

Reiju is strong but is very feminine. She can fight with the best of them but you’re going to know it’s a girl kicking your butt (everything is pink) Her appearance is always near flawless. Between wanting to imitate the memory of her mother, wanting to be presentable as an employee of the Baratie, and most importantly because she likes to, she dresses well.

Kuina and Reiju have conflicting views on femininity and on men.

Kuina sees men as equals and competition. She is just as strong and will be stronger than all of them. Her opponent being a man or a woman doesn’t matter to her. What matters is winning.

Reiju has a lot of trauma from growing up under Judge. From seeing how her brothers treated Sanji and she knows realistically that they are outliers. That her brothers literally had there emotions stripped from them. But she’s very distrustful of men. She more brutal in her fights against male opponents then female. (Unlike Sanji she will still fight a female opponent, but she doesn’t go for the jugular as quickly with them as she does with men)

They’re differing opinions on strength, femininity, and men defiantly leads them to butt heads.

As they travel together and with the rest of the crew they start to reevaluate their views.

Ace’s presence (and later Hiriluk, and Iceburg) helps heals some of Reiju’s trauma. She won’t ever give her trust away to a stranger but she is more willing to give them a chance.

Between Kaya, Nojiko, and Reiju’s influences Kuina becomes a little more comfortable in her femininity. (I’ll talk about her relationship with the other girls later) starting to see strength in traditionally feminine traits and finding things she enjoys. Learning that she doesn’t have to reject that part of herself to be taken seriously by the people around her.

After three years I like to think that Kuina grows her hair out, wearing it in ponytails/buns as her crewmates like to play with her hair.

Reiju and Kuina’s relationship mellows the longer they are together and as they grow as people. They still are fundamentally different but they respect each other and will occasionally argue but it’s more for fun and to spar then it is to prove the other wrong.

Kuina and Kaya

Kaya is very feminine. She grew up as an heiress. Nice dress, soft gentle attitude. And Kuina loves her. This is her little sister now. And she excited to train this girl to be a strong fighter like her.

Kaya is so excited to have her new sibling, her new life. She loves training with the different members of the crew. She’s a range weapon user so she and Kuina don’t spar with weapons. Instead Kuina helps Kaya build up her strength and endurance.

Kaya also tries to teach Kuina things. I think Kaya is the first member of the crew to start playing with Kuina’s hair. Braiding it back, keeping it out of her face. Kuina loves it. She’s never had this kind of affection before. Eventually other crew members join in, Ace learning from Kaya how to braid. Nojiko showing off different hair styles that can be done with short hair. Reiju sweeping in with the fanciest styles you’ve ever seen. And it becomes tradition to play with Kuina’s hair.

Kuina is very protective of Kaya. She is their youngest. Kuina knows just how much the world tries to beat down girls with big dreams and she doesn’t want that for Kaya. She expect Kaya to becomes strong enough to stand in her own but that doesn’t mean she’s going to let any one hurt her.

That being said Kuina is also weak to two people on the crew. Her idiot captain and their youngest member. So when the two start on their nonsense, playing games being foolish, Kuina’s not far behind. She acts like it’s to watch over them but she just as foolish and is only waiting for an excuse to join in.

Kuina and Nojiko

Both women are rather serious at time. They know the harshness of the world. They know how they can be perceived as women in it. But where Kuina rages against it Nojiko uses it to her advantage. Where Kuina hates being seen as weak, Nojiko loves it. You think I’m too weak to be a threat, have fun being robbed blind.

While they have different concepts of honor and how to handle the world, they respect each other. Kuina laughs everytime Nojiko tricks other people I to giving them, supplies, cash, food. Nojiko is a hustler and know how to get by and is extremely helpful especially in the crews early days.

Nojiko is girly. She likes looking nice. But she also gets her hands dirty and has weaponized her femininity to her advantage. She the middle ground between Kuina’s rejection, Kaya’s traditional, and Reiju’s hyper femininities. And she gets along well with all of them.

Kuina and her definitely go out when they’re at port and find people who are stupid enough to think they can beat Kuina. Nojiko turns the challenge into a spectacle and starts betting on the fight. Kuina always win, and Nojiko always walks away with her pockets a lot heavier. And this is why she claims Kuina is her favorite. (She loves all the crew equally)

Nojiko and Kaya

Nojiko is the only one who has had a little sister before. She is the one who initiates girls nights. Spending time doing Kaya hair and talking smack about the other pirates they’ve run into.

(Side note: the first time she called for a girls night, Ace was super confused, what is a girls night and how is it any different from a normal night on board? Kuina has never been to one either and as much as Reiju claims to know what she’s doing, she hasn’t been to one either. And Kaya is excited because she’s always wanted friends to have a girls night with but between her parents wealth and status, her age, and their deaths, it was hard to make friends in syrup village. So Nojiko has to walk the crew through what a girls night is. She realizes pretty fast that Ace gets to join, after all it’s not fair to kick out the only boy on the crew, but once she’s done explaining Kuina is out, this is not her thing and Ace is going to go spare with her until Nojiko start talking crap about the Buggy pirate because seriously what was their deal. Ace is always down to roast someone and Kuina is not passing up the opportunity to talk about how ridiculous their unicycle swordsman was)

Kaya and Nojiko are the weaker members of the crew. They bond over their desire to become stronger to protect the crew. They both train endurance with Kuina, Ace is always willing to spare and show them how to throw a punch, Reiju has a lot of training on how to fight so she’s quiet helpful even thought she never explains where that knowledge comes from….

But Kaya and Nojiko are the ‘normal’ people on the crew. Much like Usopp and Nami, they bond over the lack of strength and how crazy strong their crewmates are.

Reiju and Nojiko

Reiju and Nojiko both get along well. They are both used to being older sisters and are the more reserved members of the crew. When Ace and Kaya start playing they can talk Kuina in occasional but it’s rarer to get Nojiko and Reiju.

They’re still silly (it is one piece) but they don’t have the relationship that Sanji and Nami do. Reiju isn’t falling all over Nojiko like Sanji does for Nami.

They are definitely gossip buddies. Kaya’s to young to hear some of the things they say. Kuina has dedicated her self to training that certain things fly over head (especially in the beginning) and Ace grew up in a jungle. He’s a weird mix bag of things that he understands and things he’ll gossip about. So Reiju and Nojiko definitely have secret gossip sessions in the kitchen where they talk about everything from how attractive a marine, pirate, villager, crew member 👀 is to how pathetic some of their adversaries are to the inner relationships of the crew.

The tea session is always piping hot. Olivia definitely joins in when she joins the crew. Offering motherly advices and scathing comments.

Ace occasionally gets invited because apparently his little brother was great at coming up with ridiculous nicknames for people and he has some great commentary to add on to conversations about their past foes. He’s unfitted and says the most off the wall things and the girls love it.

Reiju and Kaya

It’s Reiju’s first time having a younger sister. She loves Kaya. The girl is so sweet and different from what Reiju grew up with and she wants to preserve that. But she’s not sure how to interact with her at first.

Most of her interactions with her brothers was in training, and those are bad memories. It takes a while before she starts helping to train Kaya because she doesn’t trust herself not to go over board.

But as they get to know each other and Kaya talks about her insecurities about not being enough for the crew Reiju kicks into gear. They start training to get Kaya up to speed. She won’t ever be on Ace, Reiju, and Kuina but she can become strong enough to hold her own. Eventually she will be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with these giant and know she belongs there. Reiju will make sure of that.

They all take water seven hard but the tension between Ace and Kaya affects Reiju the most. It never gets as bad as the fight between Usopp and Luffy but Ace isn’t the gentlest and Kaya is so unbalanced at the idea of losing Merry. Reiju is just waiting for Ace to say the wrong thing. Keeps hearing her brothers taunting Sanji in her ears. And she’s loyal to Ace. She would die for him in a heart beat. He’s changed her life for the better in so many ways. She’s never been this free. But if he says the wrong thing to Kaya she might have to fight him.

Master post

[alstroemerian-dragon]

the thing about. okay so when i first got into dr i was like ‘i think i prefer an outcome where they ultimately cant wake the other ten members of their class and its just the five survivors because then the deaths meant something yknow’ and while i still think that that kind of thing has. yknow. merit and value. i have actually come around to preferring them being able to do it. with one massive caveat.

it takes forever.

it takes at least a year and a half, two years maybe, before they (lets be real, hajime) even gain the knowledge of the system, work out its quirks, beef up its security and tech, connect it to enough power, and build the proper technology to manage something like this, and even then, each person is going to need a unique plan of action. its going to take ages. i think its best if they start from the first death through the last, which has the added benefit of waking the impostor first and gaining a good moral compass and grounding presence. but… i mean. its almost two years before they even manage the first dive into their brain. two years of living alone, just the five of them, of building each other up of building a dynamic, one that works, and of changing and growing because they have no other choice.

so when it comes down to them actually attempting to wake the first person… theres some anxiety. theres some worry. theres a lot of ‘this is going to radically alter how we relate to each other and everyone else’. theres a lot of ‘this is going to make things weird’. theres a lot of ‘theyre not going to understand a lot of things at first not only because its been two years since we all went under and everything has changed in that time but also because the five of us have a fundamentally different relationship now with each other than we will have with anyone else we wake up. thats going to cause conflict’.

and i dont even necessarily mean that in a romantic relationship sense (though if you know me you know im deeply unwell about kuzuhina and also an absolute sucker for polycule shit so yeah i do also kinda mean it in that way), but just that their bond is so strong. living alone on an island in the middle of nowhere for two years with just four other people will do that. they know each other in fundamental ways that the others may never manage. fuyuhiko may get peko back, but her relationship with him will never be the one he has with hajime, or akane, or kazuichi or sonia. sonia will get gundham back, but despite them definitely regaining their romantic relationship (after an adjustment period, of course), there will be an odd dissonance in how well hajime and akane know her in ways gundham doesnt. akane will get nekomaru back in her life. but he will never be the person she goes to with the things she goes to hajime with.

this isnt necessarily entirely negative, of course. relationships are always going to be different with different people because theyre. yknow. different people. but i think theres going to be a period of time, maybe even the rest of their lives, where the ten sleepers in the vault will understand, intrinsically, that the relationship the five survivors has is never going to be fully understood, and will always be special and different from what they all have as a group.

hajime, fuyuhiko, kazuichi, akane, and sonia all faced arguably the hardest parts of the healing process, the stumbling blindly with no hand to hold except the others with an equal lack of sight, together, and that. does things. to a relationship.

they will all manage the healing process, and they will all struggle through it. but never in the same way those five did.

[digitalkorbaxllc]

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Reference

[inkblot-inc]

I don't know know if you would consider it an au, but Back in Step is one of my favorite fics. I recently read What We've Lost and I loved how you brought in even more context to the dynamic between Strange and the Reader, the reader and Christine, and even the reader and Wanda.

You made me glad Strange dies btw

I think I figured out something, and I wanna know if it was intentional: when the reader starts staying at Wanda’s cabin with her she never comes in contact with the darkhold, but they start feeling more "malice" toward their memories of Christine and they almost get corrupted the longer the reader is there. Even after reader gets captured that hatred continues to build until we get to Back in Step. I just want to know if that's the dark hold's influence or not?

Sorry this got a bit long

I also love all your other writing 😁

Be still my heart-

First of all: I LOVE long asks bud, never apologize for that ☺️

I consider all of the things I've written so far to be AUs, I dunno about anyone else, but as soon as it diverges from cannon it can be considered as such. Anyway-

I'm glad you loved TBBIS and What We've Lost, it was definitely fun to write and think about!

Having the reader's dynamic with Strange to be this sort of one sided jealousy and even hatred for what the other has (even if it is mainly Strange's jealousy toward Reader) is something I wanted to bring attention to. He literally did take everything from Reader and left them with nothing. Even worse, expected them to just move along now that he "had the upper hand". He knows he was in the wrong, he knows what he did was fucked up, and that's what makes him so hateable in this universe

And his bitchass caused the snap...

The Reader and Christine are complex. And part of me wanted to take the time to write out how they were together in more scenes, but the difference in tonality just wouldn't fit in there in my opinion. I thought it'd be too jarring. But Christine and Reader really did love each other. They'd been together for years before the snap, and had just gotten engaged ,timeline wise, by the end of DS1. Getting over Reader was not an easy thing for Christine to do, having though they died for five years. Stephen just placed himself in a position where Christine would cling to him and in that vulnerability, wiggle his way back into her heart. Christine and Strange were always complicated and things never seemed to workout, but the Reader was a sure thing and she genuinely loved her. Despite the shock amd anguish of Christine moving on, Reader does still love her and more than that, they care for her. The Reader is eventually able to acknowledge the circumstances of things and can't really blame Christine for finding someone else in the event that they "died". Christine being happy with someone else pales in comparison to Christine being happy with Stephen Strange specifically.

Again, his bitchass caused the snap...

On a fundamental level, the Reader and Wanda's friendship started with them finding kindred spirits in one another. As two peope who have quite literally lost everything that mattered to them, I definitely felt the need to show their interactions as emotionally traumatised besties just trying to do their best and find some sort of normalcy in their lives.

And finally, the Darkhold.

I'm so glad you caught this buddy you don't even know! What you've been thinking is spot on. The Reader was being effected by the Darkhold the longer they were in the cabin and they were still corrupted by it leading to TBBIS! Now the thing is, the Reader hasn't been constantly in contact with the Darkhold or even read it like Wanda has, so the malice growing in them could be considered equal parts Darkhold influence and the Reader's own hatred building up and coming to a head. The darkhold changes you forever once your directly exposed to it, but that line may get a little blurry when you're only talking about close proximity...

I'm glad you've enjoyed what I've written, and hopefully you'll like what I put out in the future as well bud 😊!

[nothorses]

Interview With An Ex-Radfem

exradfem is an anonymous Tumblr user who identifies as transmasculine, and previously spent time in radical feminist communities. They have offered their insight into those communities using their own experiences and memories as a firsthand resource.

Background

I was raised in an incredibly fundamentalist religion, and so was predisposed to falling for cult rhetoric. Naturally, I was kicked out for being a lesbian. I was taken in by the queer community, particularly the trans community, and I got back on my feet- somehow. I had a large group of queer friends, and loved it. I fully went in on being the Best Trans Ally Possible, and constantly tried to be a part of activism and discourse.

Unfortunately, I was undersocialized, undereducated, and overenthusiastic. I didn't fully understand queer or gender theory. In my world, when my parents told me my sexuality was a choice and I wasn't born that way, they were absolutely being homophobic. I understood that no one should care if it's a choice or not, but it was still incredibly, vitally important to me that I was born that way.

On top of that, I already had an intense distrust of men bred by a lot of trauma. That distrust bred a lot of gender essentialism that I couldn't pull out of the gender binary. I felt like it was fundamentally true that men were the problem, and that women were inherently more trustworthy. And I really didn't know where nonbinary people fit in.

Then I got sucked down the ace exclusionist pipeline; the way the arguments were framed made sense to my really surface-level, liberal view of politics. This had me primed to exclude people –– to feel like only those that had been oppressed exactly like me were my community.

Then I realized I was attracted to my nonbinary friend. I immediately felt super guilty that I was seeing them as a woman. I started doing some googling (helped along by ace exclusionists on Tumblr) and found the lesfem community, which is basically radfem “lite”: lesbians who are "only same sex attracted". This made sense to me, and it made me feel so much less guilty for being attracted to my friend; it was packaged as "this is just our inherent, biological desire that is completely uncontrollable". It didn't challenge my status quo, it made me feel less guilty about being a lesbian, and it allowed me to have a "biological" reason for rejecting men.

I don't know how much dysphoria was playing into this, and it's something I will probably never know; all of this is just piecing together jumbled memories and trying to connect dots. I know at the time I couldn't connect to this trans narrative of "feeling like a woman". I couldn't understand what trans women were feeling. This briefly made me question whether I was nonbinary, but radfem ideas had already started seeping into my head and I'm sure I was using them to repress that dysphoria. That's all I can remember.

The lesfem community seeded gender critical ideas and larger radfem princples, including gender socialization, gender as completely meaningless, oppression as based on sex, and lesbian separatism. It made so much innate sense to me, and I didn't realize that was because I was conditioned by the far right from the moment of my birth. Of course women were just a biological class obligated to raise children: that is how I always saw myself, and I always wanted to escape it.

I tried to stay in the realms of TIRF (Trans-Inclusive Radical Feminist) and "gender critical" spaces, because I couldn't take the vitriol on so many TERF blogs. It took so long for me to get to the point where I began seeing open and unveiled transphobia, and I had already read so much and bought into so much of it that I thought that I could just ignore those parts.

In that sense, it was absolutely a pipeline for me. I thought I could find a "middle ground", where I could "center women" without being transphobic.

Slowly, I realized that the transphobia was just more and more disgustingly pervasive. Some of the trans men and butch women I looked up to left the groups, and it was mostly just a bunch of nasty people left. So I left.

After two years offline, I started to recognize I was never going to be a healthy person without dealing with my dysphoria, and I made my way back onto Tumblr over the pandemic. I have realized I'm trans, and so much of this makes so much more sense now. I now see how I was basically using gender essentialism to repress my identity and keep myself in the closet, how it was genuinely weaponized by TERFs to keep me there, and how the ace exclusionist movement primed me into accepting lesbian separatism- and, finally, radical feminism.

The Interview

You mentioned the lesfem community, gender criticals, and TIRFs, which I haven't heard about before- would you mind elaborating on what those are, and what kinds of beliefs they hold?

I think the lesfem community is recruitment for lesbians into the TERF community. Everything is very sanitized and "reasonable", and there's an effort not to say anything bad about trans women. The main focus was that lesbian = homosexual female, and you can't be attracted to gender, because you can't know someone's gender before knowing them; only their sex.

It seemed logical at the time, thinking about sex as something impermeable and gender as internal identity. The most talk about trans women I saw initially was just in reference to the cotton ceiling, how sexual orientation is a permanent and unchangeable reality. Otherwise, the focus was homophobia. This appealed to me, as I was really clinging to the "born this way" narrative.

This ended up being a gateway to two split camps - TIRFs and gender crits.

I definitely liked to read TIRF stuff, mostly because I didn't like the idea of radical feminism having to be transphobic. But TIRFs think that misogyny is all down to hatred of femininity, and they use that as a basis to be able to say trans women are "just as" oppressed.

Gender criticals really fought out against this, and pushed the idea that gender is fake, and misogyny is just sex-based oppression based on reproductive issues. They believe that the source of misogyny is the "male need to control the source of reproduction"- which is what finally made me think I had found the "source" of my confusion. That's why I ended up in gender critical circles instead of TIRF circles.

I'm glad, honestly, because the mask-off transphobia is what made me finally see the light. I wouldn't have seen that in TIRF communities.

I believed this in-between idea, that misogyny was "sex-based oppression" and that transphobia was also real and horrible, but only based on transition, and therefore a completely different thing. I felt that this was the "nuanced" position to take.

The lesfem community also used the fact that a lot of lesbians have partners who transition, still stay with their lesbian partners, and see themselves as lesbian- and that a lot of trans men still see themselves as lesbians. That idea is very taboo and talked down in liberal queer spaces, and I had some vague feelings about it that made me angry, too. I really appreciated the frank talk of what I felt were my own taboo experiences.

I think gender critical ideology also really exploited my own dysphoria. There was a lot of talk about how "almost all butches have dysphoria and just don't talk about it", and that made me feel so much less alone and was, genuinely, a big relief to me that I "didn't have to be trans".

Lesfeminism is essentially lesbian separatism dressed up as sex education. Lesfems believe that genitals exist in two separate categories, and that not being attracted to penises is what defines lesbians. This is used to tell cis lesbians, "dont feel bad as a lesbian if you're attracted to trans men", and that they shouldn’t feel "guilty" for not being attracted to trans women. They believe that lesbianism is not defined as being attracted to women, it is defined as not being attracted to men; which is a root idea in lesbian separatism as well.

Lesfems also believe that attraction to anything other than explicit genitals is a fetish: if you're attracted to flat chests, facial hair, low voices, etc., but don't care if that person has a penis or not, you're bisexual with a fetish for masculine attributes. Essentially, they believe the “-sexual” suffix refers to the “sex” that you are assigned at birth, rather than your attraction: “homosexual” refers to two people of the same sex, etc. This was part of their pushback to the ace community, too.

I think they exploited the issues of trans men and actively ignored trans women intentionally, as a way of avoiding the “TERF” label. Pronouns were respected, and they espoused a constant stream of "trans women are women, trans men are men (but biology still exists and dictates sexual orientation)" to maintain face.

They would only be openly transmisogynistic in more private, radfem-only spaces.

For a while, I didn’t think that TERFs were real. I had read and agreed with the ideology of these "reasonable" people who others labeled as TERFs, so I felt like maybe it really was a strawman that didn't exist. I think that really helped suck me in.

It sounds from what you said like radical feminism works as a kind of funnel system, with "lesfem" being one gateway leading in, and "TIRF" and "gender crit" being branches that lesfem specifically funnels into- with TERFs at the end of the funnel. Does that sound accurate?

I think that's a great description actually!

When I was growing up, I had to go to meetings to learn how to "best spread the word of god". It was brainwashing 101: start off by building a relationship, find a common ground. Do not tell them what you really believe. Use confusing language and cute innuendos to "draw them in". Prey on their emotions by having long exhausting sermons, using music and peer pressure to manipulate them into making a commitment to the church, then BAM- hit them with the weird shit.

Obviously I am paraphrasing, but this was framed as a necessary evil to not "freak out" the outsiders.

I started to see that same talk in gender critical circles: I remember seeing something to the effect of, "lesfem and gender crit spaces exist to cleanse you of the gender ideology so you can later understand the 'real' danger of it", which really freaked me out; I realized I was in a cult again.

I definitely think it's intentional. I think they got these ideas from evangelical Christianity, and they actively use it to spread it online and target young lesbians and transmascs. And I think gender critical butch spaces are there to draw in young transmascs who hate everything about femininity and womanhood, and lesfem spaces are there to spread the idea that trans women exist as a threat to lesbianism.

Do you know if they view TIRFs a similar way- as essentially prepping people for TERF indoctrination?

Yes and no.

I've seen lots of in-fighting about TIRFs; most TERFs see them as a detriment, worse than the "TRAs" themselves. I've also definitely seen it posed as "baby's first radfeminism". A lot of TIRFs are trans women, at least from what I've seen on Tumblr, and therefore are not accepted or liked by radfems. To be completely honest, I don't think they're liked by anyone. They just hate men.

TIRFs are almost another breed altogether; I don't know if they have ties to lesfems at all, but I do think they might've spearheaded the online ace exclusionist discourse. I think a lot of them also swallowed radfem ideology without knowing what it was, and parrot it without thinking too hard about how it contradicts with other ideas they have.

The difference is TIRFs exist. They're real people with a bizarre, contradictory ideology. The lesfem community, on the other hand, is a completely manufactured "community" of crypto-terfs designed specifically to indoctrinate people into TERF ideology.

Part of my interest in TIRFs here is that they seem to have a heavy hand in the way transmascs are treated by the trans community, and if you're right that they were a big part of ace exclusionism too they've had a huge impact on queer discourse as a whole for some time. It seems likely that Baeddels came out of that movement too.

Yes, there’s a lot of overlap. The more digging I did, the more I found that it's a smaller circle running the show than it seems. TIRFs really do a lot of legwork in peddling the ideology to outer queer community, who tend to see it as generic feminism.

TERFs joke a lot about how non-radfems will repost or reblog from TERFs, adding "op is a TERF”. They're very gleeful when people accept their ideology with the mask on. They think it means these people are close to fully learning the "truth", and they see it as further evidence they have the truth the world is hiding. I think it's important to speak out against radical feminism in general, because they’re right; their ideology does seep out into the queer community.

Do you think there's any "good" radical feminism?

No. It sees women as the ultimate victim, rather than seeing gender as a tool to oppress different people differently. Radical feminism will always see men as the problem, and it is always going to do harm to men of color, gay men, trans men, disabled men, etc.

Women aren't a coherent class, and radfems are very panicked about that fact; they think it's going to be the end of us all. But what's wrong with that? That's like freaking out that white isn't a coherent group. It reveals more about you.

It's kind of the root of all exclusionism, the more I think about it, isn't it? Just freaking out that some group isn't going to be exclusive anymore.

Radical feminists believe that women are inherently better than men.

For TIRFs, it's gender essentialism. For TERFs, its bio essentialism. Both systems are fundamentally broken, and will always hurt the groups most at risk. Centering women and misogyny above all else erases the root causes of bigotry and oppression, and it erases the intersections of race and class. The idea that women are always fundamentally less threatening is very white and privileged.

It also ignores how cis women benefit from gender norms just as cis men do, and how cis men suffer from gender roles as well. It’s a system of control where gender non-conformity is a punishable offense.

[trainsinanime]

The ads for companies in the public transport sector, whether it’s people who build trains or people who make software for buses, usually read something like, “we’re looking for really good people, and we have jobs”. And that’s just boring; neither of these are specific to this industry. There’s usually nothing in there about why public transit in general and trains in particular matter. So let me sum up my thoughts about why you should care (and potentially work in this field), sort of as a manifesto.

First of all, it’s just plain fun. Big technical things, lots of people, lots of complicated technology… not everybody’s excited by that, and you don’t have to be to work in this field, but if you are, this is a big bonus.

The more important part is that it really, really matters:

Our planet is burning. We use too much energy from fossil sources, and transportation is a big part of that.

The fossil energy sources we have all suck; they destroy the environment not just when you burn the oil or gas, but already when you extract them (fracking), and they give power to all the worst people in the world.

The world keeps getting smaller, and people want to and have to travel more and more.

Cities keep getting bigger, and getting from end to the other becomes more and more of a pressing issue.

Cars don’t scale; they just make everyone miserable. Drivers hate traffic jams that happen no matter how wide the road is, and everybody else hates the noise and having to cram in what little space gets left over.

When we try to solve these issues, we find that a large number of fundamental things still remain true:

The most efficient way to travel is to travel together.

The more people you put in a vehicle, the cheaper it becomes per person/unit of freight.

The best way to drive something has always been the electric motor. There has never been an exception to it, the only problem has ever been getting power to it.

The easiest way of getting electric power to the electric motor is by plugging the vehicles in, meaning putting some way to give power alongside all of the way it travels on.

The dimension that scales the best is length, because height and width determine the cost of tunnels and bridges and infrastructure.

It’s more efficient to have one big vehicle, or lots of small ones controlled together, than lots of individual ones all with their own control and power systems.

The best and cheapest way to control all these vehicles together is to attach them mechanically and run some cables between them. Truck and car manufacturers have said they’ll do platooning via cameras and radar and radio and so on any day now for the past forty years. Train couplings have done it from day one.

The best way to ensure safety and performance is if all vehicles are automatically guided. This also helps with control, electricity supply and so on. Everything becomes so much easier if you know exactly where your vehicle will be in the horizontal position.

The best and cheapest way to automatically guide vehicles is by doing it mechanically. The method with two slightly tilted steel rails and conical steel wheels with flanges for tight corners that was invented in the 1820s still hasn’t been surpassed.

The best solution to transportation is public transport, especially with trains.

That is not to say that this is easy. For close to a hundred years now, our growing world has been built for cars first, while rail infrastructure wasn’t allowed to keep up and in most places actually went backwards. If we want more trains now, we’ll have to figure out how to run more trains on the infrastructure that already exists; how to transport more people and freight with fewer trains; and how to build new infrastructure in places that already exist and don’t necessarily have the space for it. And all of this has to be done as efficiently as possible, because excessive money spent on one project means another project may never happen.

That’s why the public transit and rail industry needs smart people, and why I’ve chosen to work there and can recommend it: We need more of it, and we need to run it smarter and cheaper every day. Every little bit helps, and every large bit helps even more.

[omglooknoone]

A few days ago, I got a tattoo of the last line in The Legend of Korra. After several years of considering how I wanted to honor the place this show has in my heart, I decided that it was going to happen this year. It’s in the font from the end credits of TLOK, and I’m quite pleased with it, especially the placement and sizing. 

This is also a good time to reflect on how much Korrasami and The Legend of Korra mean to me now that I’ve got this thing on my body forever. Korra is one of my favorite characters of all time. From the moment she appeared on screen in episode one as a hotheaded, physically imposing female protagonist, I felt like I was seeing someone like me in media for the first time. We not only get to see her be an absolute powerhouse, even for an avatar, but we also see what makes her human. Korra’s journey throughout the show’s four seasons embodies the human experience, and the lessons she learns, her struggles and triumphs, are parts of life that connect us all on some fundamental level. 

I love TLOK for being everything ATLA is not. The Legend of Korra is messier, rougher around the edges, and shows us that the way forward isn’t always clear. However, we see Korra grow tremendously from her mistakes, and when she finally finds herself, she’s ready to face the world as a fully fledged avatar. While this is the ending for the show, it is also a new beginning. 

Now for Korrasami. I remember finding out about Korrasami online when the third season was airing. I was instantly taken by the idea of Korra and Asami together. Despite their rocky start, they were fast friends and had great mutual admiration and respect for each other. I saw that they made a natural team, balancing each other out whether they were building a makeshift sandsailer or training as sparring partners, and I became invested in how close they grew during the third season. Later, the intense moments they share throughout the season culminate in a tender one as Asami tends to Korra before Jinora’s ceremony, and we get our first insight into just how deeply they care for each other.

During the time between seasons 3 and 4, I held my breath. I wasn't in a hurry for the final season to air and end this moment where we could all just dream that Korrasami was going to be endgame. While it felt like their relationship had been building towards something, like many fans, I didn't dare believe I would also be able to relate to my favorite character about who I loved. Besides, season 3 finale Korra had her own things to deal with first. It was later revealed that she only wrote letters to Asami during her time away, and their reunion (finally!) was a whirlwind of emotions (for both them and me). Caring about a relationship between characters was brand new to me, but boy, did I care about these two now. Season 4 made it clear that there was something more going on between them, and by the time we made it to the finale, I couldn’t help but have high hopes. Even though I knew a relationship like theirs had seldom made it into mainstream media, and even fewer had resulted in happy endings, it just felt like the conditions for a Korrasami ending were perfect. As I watched the entire final scene, my heart just about beat out of my chest. As I watched Korra and Asami walk towards the future hand in hand, I hoped the scene would never end.

I remember staying seated on the uncomfortable folding chair in my room in disbelief for a few minutes. My misty eyes were the only sign that the overwhelming sense of joy and relief hadn’t set in yet.

Seeing Korrasami become canon on 12/19/14 felt like I had won the lottery. Fans around the world felt it too. The internet exploded with teary reaction videos and celebratory fanart. We laughed and cried and felt connected to each other in a way that I will never forget. 

@bryankonietzko and @michaeldantedimartino, thank you for making Korrasami a reality. It represents a chance at happiness that we all deserve and waited so long to see. It’s something that means so much to so many people, and I am proud to have a reminder of what this show means to me on me forever. 

[olderthannetfic]

it’s funny, i was just having a series of conversations about body image that remind me of the discussions going on here.

i have a friend who recently moved into the field of dietetics (which i was fully prepared to judge her for until i heard her philosophies about the whole thing). we had a long talk about how she wants to start a practice based on the idea that health is not a size issue, that it looks different for everyone, and how she wants to help people work towards the goals of 1) eating 2) eating *enough* 3) eating *well* and 4) feeling good in their bodies, both physically and emotionally. she wants to ask her clients questions like “what would you like your body to be able to do? how would you like your body to be able to support you in the life you’re building?” and focus on making sure they feel as good as possible, first and foremost, for as long as possible. her approach would take things like food insecurity, disability, mental health, etc. into account. i was really impressed and we brainstormed a lot of language about food as a love language and how that translates to self love and self care.

i had another talk with another friend about desirability politics and body image, and how she actually prefers her body physically how it is now, even though she’s conventionally labeled “overweight” (a term which means nothing), because her clothes fit better, her skin doesn’t sag, her temperature regulation is better, and she really enjoys the way she looks, but she’s still anxious to lose weight bc she saw the way her mother was treated growing up as a fat brown woman and she’s terrified of that happening to her. she actively wants to make herself less comfortable and less healthy by losing weight bc societal fatphobia is more threatening to her than low self esteem.

that’s what that biphobia anon reminds me of. it can be really difficult to separate feelings of “i hate being x” and “i hate the way i’m treated because i’m x.” it’s really easy for those two things to feel the same, but they aren’t, anon. i swear to you they aren’t. you can love your body and still fear fatphobia more. you can love your queerness and still fear social stigma more, and i’m genuinely offering you all the love i can and the hope that someday your love becomes stronger than your fear.

because there is so much joy to be found in queerness! there is so much beauty here! and not just in our resilience and our survival- our joy is inherent, and it doesn’t only come from overcoming homophobia in society. that’s part of it, yeah, but there’s joy just in being able to look at a woman and think “god, she’s so beautiful, i want to know everything about her.” there’s joy in seeing a man smile so it lights up the whole damn room and wanting to be the reason he keeps smiling. there’s joy in being able to do both of these things at the same time! there’s joy in meeting another queer person and realizing you understand something fundamental about each other that other people don’t, that you’re connected through a culture and a way of being that makes kin out of strangers. there is beauty in the threads that tie us together, anon, and you’re tangled in those threads whether you love them or not, and if you let us, we’ll weave a net beneath you to break your fall. there is love inherent in who you are, anon, and i truly and honestly hope you learn to feel it someday.

--

[theregoesmylurkerstatus]

Caleb has, verbally, shown so little bloodthirst regarding the people who wronged him. He doesn’t know how he feels. He doesn’t know what he wants. He wants them to change, he wants the pain to stop. He wants to rehabilitate all these murderers under Ikithon because he was one of them and he wants to believe he’s not alone in this, he wants them to get better.

He also takes three steps into the place where he was sealed away like some kind of animal, full of simple (if skilled) guards who are so much lower on the food chain than the assassins Caleb knows... and for the first time ever he starts crushing people to death. Gone is the soft talk and hesitant hope. He asserts that they knew what they were doing. That they were not innocents.

He spent eleven years there. He can’t remember it. He also can’t think of the people who did that to him as people, whether they were actually the ones that guarded him or not.

I think Caleb’s trauma and his ability to react with extreme prejudice when confronted with it often gets underestimated both by the audience and Caleb himself. There’s a really interesting dichotomy that seems to go on with him, in that we’re constantly taken somewhat aback by these breathtaking displays of violence of his, even though they keep happening.

I realised it when we first met Astrid, actually. I don't know about anyone else, but the revelation that Caleb’s reaction to watching his parents die wasn’t running in to help them, or screaming himself, or even dissociating, but was instead attacking his peers? It surprised the heck out of me.

I don’t think anyone thought that would have been his reaction. All the pieces of fiction or art or meta about that moment that I saw assumed he had a much more passive or help oriented reaction. Even the cast themselves animated that moment as Astrid and Eodwulf stoically walking away from a silent Caleb on his knees in their own animated title sequence.

The fact that we all accepted the image of Caleb, on his knees, silently watching his family burn, is interesting to me. Because I do get why.

When Caleb is forcefully reminded of that moment of extreme grief, he dissociates. He doesn’t react violently when lost in his trauma in that particular way. Add to that that Caleb brushes over the immediate aftermath of his parent’s deaths, which makes it seem like his foggy, clouded state in the Asylum was the instant result of his trauma, and the idea that Caleb reacted passively to his parent’s deaths is a very easy assumption to make.

At this point I believe it’s also indicative of how Caleb sees himself. Caleb hates (hated?) himself, yes, but he doesn’t actually seem to see himself as a violent person. When asked to impress a high level mage from an alien culture, he chose the versatile reskinned Bigby’s Hand, Cat’s Ire. When trying to be intimidating, he uses his words, or points to his friends as threats, or uses Frumpkin as a prop.

He doesn’t seem to give his ease with violence much thought or weight in his own view of himself. I think he assumed he was passive during his years at the Sanitarium, and so therefore assumed that his “breaking” was similar. And if that’s what Caleb thought of himself, why would we think any different?

People don’t tend to think of Caleb as a fighter, least of all Caleb himself. The common view of him is that he’s a hesitant support character. He’s not someone who fans or other characters alike would easily call “bloodthirsty,” especially with him confronting and discussing the man who ruined his life and refusing to commit to killing him.

Everything about how Caleb verbally approaches these traumas shows that he’s not vengeance driven. Revenge has never been part of his game plan, never been something he cared enough to pursue. And because of that palpable lack of bloodthirsty vengeance, because of his soft spoken, cautious demeanor, Caleb is not someone who would generally be picked as having extreme, unrelenting violence as his knee-jerk reaction.

Except that’s exactly what Caleb does when backed into a corner. That’s like his biggest move. Wall of Fire and Fireballing Avantika and her crew on a hair trigger? Bleeding, on the verge of unconsciousness, out of spells, and still managing to deal the killing blow on Lorenzo because he chose violence over any other action? Opening the final fight against Obann by smashing through the window and burning half the cultists to death, because they were that desperate to get Yasha back after two failed attempts?

He woke up after eleven years of being addled, confused and not himself, and immediately killed a guard and broke out of the Assembly’s own Saitarium in the heart of Rexxentrum. He unexpectedly got stabbed by a full-fledged Scourger, and his instant reaction was to beat her over the head with a rock. 

And now, he’s infiltrated that same Sanitarium where he was kept only to flip from his desire to redeem those under the Assembly’s thumb to murdering half the people he came across in there with extreme prejudice.

His lack of interest in long-term vengeance is interestingly balanced by his frequent choices to pursue short-term retribution. It’s both his way of protecting his friends and himself, removing the threat and discouraging other threats, but it’s also, in my view, frequently an outlet for his heavily suppressed anger at the people who hurt him and his friends.

Caleb can be a good diplomat, but Caleb rarely chooses to be a diplomat. Caleb can be charming, but Caleb doesn’t like being charming. Caleb can be a good support caster, and Caleb is a support caster! But when he’s too compromised for strategy, when he stops thinking, he starts burning everything in his way. Because Caleb? He likes the way fire feels.

Caleb spent his formative years training to respond to conflict, physical or political, with lethality, and on a much more fundamental level, he is and always has been a man of action. 

He took action to get out of the Sanitarium as soon as he was capable. He took action in the Bright Queen’s throne room, made a risky ploy instead of letting them be arrested. He wanted to take action retroactively against his parent’s deaths the second he regained coherency.

Despite what we all assumed, doing nothing in the face of his parent’s deaths was never an option for Caleb, and he wasn’t taught anything that was going to help his parents once the house was on fire and the screams started. So what else was he going to do, after two years of growing into the Scourger mould? When he loses his mind, his ability to think, two of his reasons to care?

Of course it was violence. Of course it was lashing out at the people he must have thought, on some level, as being in his way. Of course it was fire. What else would it be?

And though these circumstances here aren’t the same... there are enough similarities. He’s once again in those familiar halls (in that familiar mindset) where he was treated as a weapon, nothing more. He’s with the people he loves and he knows they’re in danger, again. In fact, they’re in danger from the same people he spent eleven years feeling threatened by, that he viewed as obstacles, whether consciously or not.

He doesn’t want his loved ones to be in danger. He doesn’t want to be surrounded by the guards who he associates with his own helplessness. He especially doesn’t want those two things to go together. And he has never been able to sit idly by when he can act. But what kind of actions can he take? What can he do to get these guards away, away from him, away from his friends, out of his way, right now?

The tried and true method. Not burning, not here, not now, let’s not set a building on fire with his loved ones in it again (though it happened anyway). But no matter. He’s learned a lot of tricks in the last few months.

And hey, don’t worry, Caleb’s not angry. He’s not still working through his own pain and rage at these people. He really does want to heal, not hurt.

It’s just that these ones deserved it.

[btsqualityy]

Magnolias in Springtime

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage!AU, ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, fluff, smut, and just a smidge of angst 

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriages, brief mention of polygamy (nothing comes of it, promise lol), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, knotting 

Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet​! I really hope you guys enjoy it! P.S: There will also be a part two to this fic so stayed tuned for that!

Prompt: While their parents discuss behind closed doors the terms of their arranged marriage to each other, they meet in the blooming garden to go over their own conditions.

Your pack was your entire life.

Growing up as what some of the elders in your pack referred to as the spoiled only child of the Pack Alpha and the Pack Omega, you were doted on by everyone. As a child, you marveled at the Alphas when they brought back the animals that they had haunted for the pack’s dinner and now as an adult, you were having Alphas dedicate those kills to you as a sign of intention to marriage. 

As a child, you tried to take notes on how the Betas seemed to be able to de-escalate any and all types of conflict, always seeming to have a solution that would placate everyone. Now that you were an adult, you found yourself going to those same Betas whenever you had conflicts with your parents or your best friends, because you knew that they would understand you. 

As a child, you thought that it was the coolest thing when you watched the Omegas essentially hold the pack together. They were the ones who gave birth, they were the ones who mostly took on child rearing and cooking (even though the Alphas and Betas in your pack always helped out as well), and they were always there when you happened to skin your knee as a child or just needed comfort. Once you became an adult and presented, you found yourself gravitating more towards the Omegas as you were also one now, and they took you under their wings as you learned just what it really meant to be an Omega. 

So in short, you loved your pack and you were extremely grateful for everything that they had taught you. Oddly enough, that gratefulness is exactly how you ended up in this situation. 

“We really appreciate the fact that you’re doing this for us Y/N,” your Alpha father, Byung-hoon told you as he, you, and your mother Deiji waited on the edge of the Kim Pack’s territory. 

“I told you that it’s fine Daddy,” you muttered, bouncing yourself up and down on the tips of your toes.

“Taking on this huge responsibility for our pack isn’t fine, but we’re grateful that you’re willing to do it,” Deiji said. Instead of answering her though, you decided to change the subject.

“Their territory really is beautiful,” you pointed out as you looked around, seeing multiple bushes of plum blossoms and azaleas. “At least I’ll have something pretty to look forward to once I move here.”

“That you will,” a deep voice added and when you turned around, you saw a large, muscular man walking towards you and following behind him was an almost equally tall woman who was easily one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. 

“Ah, hello Pack Alpha Ho-jin,” your father bowed and you and your mother followed his lead, holding the bow for a few seconds before straightening up again. 

“Hello Pack Alpha Byung-hoon,” Ho-jin replied as he and the woman bowed as well. “This is my wife, Pack Omega Eun Kyung.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Eun Kyung smiled. 

“This is my wife, Pack Omega Deiji and this is our daughter, Y/N,” Byung-hoon introduced.

“Hello,” Deiji smiled.

“Hello,” you echoed, even though your smile was a bit more forced than your mother’s.

“Oh, you are absolutely gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gushed as she stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your hands. “Our son is a lucky man.”

“I’m sure that I am lucky as well, Pack Omega,” you replied.

“Please, call me Eun Kyung,” she corrected you. “I am going to be your mother-in-law soon.”

“Speaking of, where is Namjoon?” Your father wondered.

“He went off hunting with some of the other Alphas and Betas in our pack,” Ho-jin explained. “We plan on having a very big feast in order to celebrate their impending nuptials and he decided to go and try to find some extra meat.”

“Yeah, or to avoid meeting the wife that he doesn’t want,” you thought to yourself.

“He sounds like he’ll be an amazing provider and Alpha,” your mother smiled.

“Well, why don’t we all go into my office so that we can go over the terms and conditions of their marriage?” Ho-jin suggested before turning to look at you. “Y/N-ah, feel free to look around our territory and get a feel of the place. This will be your home soon, after all.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thank you.” After receiving a kiss on your head from your father and a pat on the hand from your mother, you watched silently as the four of them walk away together. As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a large rush of breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding. Even though you weren’t completely excited about this arrangement, your inner Omega wanted the parents of your future husband to like you and after meeting them, you were happy that you could seemingly not have that to worry about. 

Deciding to take your future father-in-law’s advice, you walked away from the front of their territory and ventured around. You were amazed at how vast their territory seemed to be in comparison to your pack’s, large buildings and houses searching as far as your eyes could see. As you walked, you took notice of what seemed to be a schoolhouse, a building that seemed to be a sort of meeting hall, and even a building that looked like a store front with mannequins in the window.

The thing that caught your attention though, was a large archway that was covered in gorgeous magnolia flowers. When you stepped over to it, you gasped at what laid behind it: A large wall full of nothing but magnolias stood a few feet beyond the arch, a small bench placed in front of it. 

“Gorgeous,” you whispered in awe as you stepped over to the wall, reaching out and gently touching the flowers. 

“Who are you?” A deep voice called out and you jumped up a little, your heart almost beating out of your chest as you turned around to find the source of the voice. Standing right underneath the archway, was a tall, tan skinned man whose presence seemed to command attention. 

“I-I’m Y/N L/N,” you replied, still feeling a little hesitant and the man’s eyes widened. 

“You’re Y/N?” He wondered and you nodded your head. “Well, you’re a lot prettier than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You questioned. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon,” he said, smiling at the soft gasp that escaped you. “Your future husband.”

“Oh,” was all you could utter in response because holy shit, your future husband was hot.

“Where are your parents?” Namjoon asked as he stepped closer to you. “I assume that you didn’t come here alone.”

“Um, they’re talking to your parents about the ‘terms and conditions’ of our marriage,” you told him and he scoffed out a laugh.

“Of course they are,” he chuckled as he took a seat on the small bench. “Well, I think that while they’re doing that, you and I should probably go over our own terms and conditions.”

“Our own?” You echoed as you sat down on the bench as well.

“Seeing as though we’re both fundamentally being forced into this, I figure that there’s things that you don’t want and that you do want,” he said. 

“That’s..true, I guess,” you nodded. “You go first.”

“Well, seeing as though you weren’t raised in this pack, I’d like for you to learn the ways of the pack and just be a proper wife,” he began.

“I’ve been learning about your pack since the discussions of a possible arrangement started,” you told him. “I have to wonder though, what exactly is your definition of a ‘proper’ wife.”

“Basically, just keeping house, cooking and cleaning,” he elaborated. “As my father plans to step down once we’re married, I’ll be too busy running the pack.”

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I wasn’t raised to be a docile Omega and I don’t plan on becoming one once we’re married,” you huffed.

“Why not? I mean, surely you don’t expect to run the pack with me?” He laughed.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I expect,” you smiled. 

“How can you expect to lead this pack when they don’t know you?” He asked.

“Since I’m going to be here for the rest of my life, then they’ll have every opportunity to get to know me,” you shrugged. 

“We’ll talk more about that one later,” Namjoon sighed. “Anything that you wanted specifically?”

“I know that your pack is going to be providing aid to mines once we’re married and as much as I plan on being involved in this pack, I also hope that you don't expect me to never see my pack again,” you said. 

“That’s the custom when you marry into another pack though,” Namjoon pointed out. “Plus, no offense or anything, but your pack is broke in terms of both money and resources and I don’t imagine there to be much to even go back to.”

“I am my parent’s only child and my pack is very close knit so I’d love to still be able to see them and for them to come see me,” you continued. “At least three or four times a year.”

“Alright, I guess that’s reasonable,” he relented. “Especially under these circumstances.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

“Oh, another thing,” he said suddenly. “I know that this marriage isn’t exactly something that either of us want but you cannot have any...uh, lovers on the side.”

“I’d never do something like that,” you frowned. “But I hope you know that the same goes for you.”

“That’s fine,” Namjoon nodded. “It’s not my style anyways.”

“In addition to that, I read your pack’s history and the whole taking more than one Omega as a wife thing isn’t going to fly with me,” you stated firmly.

“It’s tradition though,” he shot back. “Every leader of this pack throughout its’ history has had more than one spouse.”

“Your father doesn’t,” you pointed out. 

“Because he didn’t want one.”

“And you do?” You demanded to know and Namjoon just chuckled.

“You really meant that whole not a docile Omega thing, huh?” He wondered and you nodded while smirking. 

“You’re going to be Pack Alpha,” you said. “You have the authority to change tradition.”

“Fine, no additional Omegas,” he agreed. “I hope that means you’re going to be willing to have lots of pups then, since that’s what the whole multiple Omegas rule was for.”

“How many?” 

“At least 5,” he replied and you just laughed.

“5 is a pretty big number coming from a man who’s not going to be pushing them out,” you giggled. “Two, at most.”

“Three?” Namjoon bargained and after thinking for a few seconds, you nodded your head. 

“Deal,” you answered. “Anything else?”

“Just one more,” he added. “No roses at our wedding.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re overrated and cliché,” he shrugged. 

“What about magnolias?” You asked. “Those are my favorites.”

“I like those,” he smiled.

“Well, it’s settled then,” you announced. “No roses.”

“You know, this marriage thing is easier than I thought,” Namjoon said thoughtfully, making you giggle at him. “Do you have anything else you wanted to bring up?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

“Shake on it?” He extended his hand out to you and you let him grab onto yours, shaking each other’s hands. 

“Namjoon?” A deep voice called out and Namjoon sighed heavily. 

“That’s my dad,” Namjoon told you. “Should we head out there?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, standing up and waiting for Namjoon to do the same before the two of you walked back towards the front of their territory. As you did so, you couldn’t help but to Namjoon hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

“Ah, I see that the two of you met and are getting along!” Ho-jin announced happily.

“I’d say that we are,” Namjoon nodded as he looked down at you, and you nodded as well. 

“Well, why don’t we all move into our house?” Eun Kyung suggested. “We can have dinner and get to each other more.” After receiving nods all around, the group of you began to move towards the large cluster of houses that were a few yards away from where you were currently standing. As you let Namjoon lead you, you thought that maybe all of this actually wouldn’t be so bad. 

..........................................

A few days later, your time visiting Namjoon’s pack was winding down. After the first day, your father had happily told you that the negotiations between him and Namjoon’s father went off without a hitch and that the wedding could move forward immediately so the last few days of your visit had been spent planning your wedding.

“So maybe you and Namjoon can have your ceremony closer to the evening?” Eun Kyung suggested. “So that way we can move right into the reception afterwards.” You, her and your mom were currently in the dining room of Ho-jin and Eun Kyung’s house, going over some wedding details.

“That’s a good idea,” Deiji concurred. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Having the ceremony around 5pm sounds good.”

“Great,” Eun Kyung smiled as she wrote some things down onto the notepad that was on the table in front of her. “A later ceremony will hopefully ease some of the anxiety you’ll have that day.”

“Anxiety?” You asked.

“About your wedding night,” Eun Kyung clarified and your eyes widened. “When Ho-jin and I got married, we had our ceremony in the early afternoon and I was so nervous waiting for the reception to come because I knew what was going to happen afterwards and I had never been to bed with anyone before.”

“Oh,” you murmured. Of course, you knew that it was expected that you’d have sex with Namjoon on your wedding night and if it were up to your parents and Namjoon’s parents, get pregnant immediately but you had done your best not to actually think about it.

“Anyways, I think maybe roses for the flowers,” Deiji changed the subject and you gave her a small smile in thanks. 

“Oh, that would be gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gasped. “Namjoon’s grandmother actually has a garden full of red roses and I’m sure that she won’t mind us using some.”

“Actually, no roses,” you spoke up and both older women looked at you.

“I thought you liked roses, Y/N-ah,” Deiji said.

“I do, but Namjoon doesn’t,” you explained. “We agreed on magnolias instead.”

“You both agreed?” Deiji repeated and you nodded your head, making her smile. “That’s great.”

“You know, it’s so nice to see you actually trying to make the best of this whole thing Y/N,” Eun Kyung said. “I know it’s not ideal and you could be fighting this tooth and nail but the fact that you’re not says a lot about your character.”

“Thank you,” you smiled lightly. 

“Alright, magnolias it is,” Eun Kyung muttered as she wrote that down onto her notepad as well. Before the conversation could continue any further though, there was a sudden knock and when you looked up, you saw Namjoon standing in the door way to the dining room. 

“Hey, you all back from hunting so soon?” Eun Kyung wondered, referring to how Ho-jin, Namjoon, and Byung-hoon had decided to go off and hunt right after lunch. 

“Animals weren’t really out,” Namjoon shrugged. “Dad wanted to show Pack Alpha Byung-hoon our warehouse and I decided to come back here to spend time with Y/N.”

“With me?” You echoed in awe and Namjoon nodded.

“I wanted to show you around a little more, if you’re willing,” he offered. Before answering, you looked over at your mother who immediately waved her hands at you.

“Go, go,” she encouraged you. “We’re here for another two days so we can pick this up again later. Right, Eun Kyung?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, turning to look at Namjoon after. “Show her the river.”

“I got it Mom,” Namjoon chuckled. “Y/N?”

“Sure,” you replied before standing up, walking over to Namjoon and grabbing his outstretched hand. 

“We’ll be back by dinner,” he called out to your mothers before turning around and leading you through the living room and out of the house. 

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” you said as the two of you walked down the front steps and began to walk away from the cluster of houses. “All that wedding planning was starting to get to my head.”

“I figured, which is why I got out of there right after lunch,” Namjoon laughed. “But I also genuinely wanted to spend some time with you too. It feels like I haven’t had a moment alone with you since the first day you got here.”

“I think our families are making sure of that,” you pointed out. “I think they’re afraid that we may realize that we hate each other if they leave us alone together for too long.”

“I think that’s actually a great assumption,” he chuckled. “They don’t have to worry about that though, at least not on my end.”

“Mines either,” you murmured shyly. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well, even though my mom suggested that I take you to the river, I think that there’ll be plenty of time for you to see that later,” he told you. “I actually want to show you something that I’ve been working on.”

“Cool,” you nodded as the two of you continued to walk and you noticed that he was still holding onto your hand. On their territory, there were a few different clusters of houses and Namjoon was leading you over to a different one, stopping in front of what seemed to be the largest house. 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asked and you took a second to look over the outside, liking how it was painted a light brown color, had a large porch that already had a swing attached to the ceiling of it, and a large set of stairs. 

“I think it’s beautiful,” you smiled. “You built this?”

“Yeah, for us,” he revealed and you looked over at him in shock. “What? I hope you didn’t think we’d be living with my parents once the wedding is over.”

“Namjoon, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured in awe.

“Want to take a look inside?” Namjoon wondered, reaching down and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. You nodded your head rapidly and he chuckled before leading you up the stairs and unlocking the front door. Walking inside, you let out another soft gasp as you looked around. 

As soon as you walked into the front door, there was a little open space which could be used to place your shoes and jackets and then a staircase that led upstairs to the second level of the house. On your left hand side, there was an archway that lead into the dining room and kitchen and then on your right hand side, there was another archway that lead into the living room and another room that Namjoon said he planned on converting into a study. Once you went upstairs, you saw that there were a total of five bedrooms and the master bedroom was the largest and complete with an en suite as well. 

“I love it,” you gushed as you turned to look at Namjoon, who was leaning up against one of the walls in what would soon be your shared bedroom. 

“I thought I’d leave the decorating up to you,” he said. “That way you’ll have control over something here.”

“Good, because I already have ideas,” you grinned, deciding to throw caution to the wind and walking over to him, not waiting for him to ask what you were doing before throwing your arms around him. He hesitated for a second before hugging you back as well, and the two of you stood there for a few seconds with your arms around each other. 

“I’m happy that you like it,” he whispered and you craned your neck in order to look up at him. 

“I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Anything for my future wife,” he smiled and it was when he said that that you realized how close the two of you still were. You dropped your arms from around him and stepped back, forcing him to let go of you as well. Feeling your cheeks warm up from embarrassment, you turned your back towards him and walked over towards the window to look outside.

“You know Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Namjoon began. “Why did you agree to all of this?”

“What, marrying you?” You asked for clarification and Namjoon nodded.

“I mean, I know the basic reason why but I feel like there’s more to it than that,” he said. “A lot of packs run out of money and resources at some point but their leaders usually figure something out instead of marrying off their children in return for more resources.”

“True,” you sighed before turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Long story short, I don’t want my pack to die out just because of my father’s mismanagement. I love every member of my pack and they have all been so vital to how I grew up and how I’ve become the person that I am. If me marrying into another pack will guarantee that those people can continue to live comfortably, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s incredibly selfless,” Namjoon replied as he walked over to stand next to you. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “But to me, I’m just repaying the people who gave me so much.”

“That’s amazing Y/N,” he muttered. 

“What about you?” You reversed the question. “Why did you agree to this?”

“Well, my reasoning was a lot more selfish than yours,” he chuckled. “It’s always been my dream to lead the pack and when my father came to me a few months ago saying that he was getting ready to want to step down, I was super excited. However, it concerned him that I’m 26 and not mated to anyone yet so he made it a stipulation that I meet someone and get mated before he allows me to take over for him. Since I planned on getting married at some point in my life, that stipulation really didn’t matter to me so I agreed.”

“Ah, I guess that explains why you weren’t too keen on me wanting to run the pack with you,” you said.

“Kind of,” he shrugged. “Although, after hearing why you agreed to all of this, I have to admit that I’m reconsidering that.”

“Really?” You smiled hopefully. 

“Of course, you’ll still have to get to know the pack and our ways,” he pointed out. “But I don’t think it would be the worst thing to have you by my side.”

“Great!” You exclaimed happily and Namjoon couldn’t help but to laugh from how excited you clearly were. 

“Do you want to go look in the other bedrooms?” He suggested. “Maybe see what you might want to do with them?” 

“Mm, we don’t have to. I don’t want to overwhelm myself,” you giggled. “Why did you make so many bedrooms anyways?”

“Well, for our future children,” he confessed and you felt your cheeks immediately become hotter. 

“Oh,” you whispered. 

“Is that ok?” Namjoon wondered. “I know it might’ve been a little presumptuous of me, especially since I did it before we had our conversation about what we both wanted the other day.”

“No, no, no, it’s....it’s fine,” you shrugged. 

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked. “You haven’t been with anyone, have you?”

“Namjoon!” You shouted in surprise.

“You’re nervous,” he surmised. 

“Can you blame me?” You scoffed. “I mean, it’s already embarrassing to have basically everyone know that I’m a virgin but knowing what’s expected of us on our wedding night....it’s nerve wrecking.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Y/N,” he shrugged. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You asked him, only to see him shake his head. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve thought about filling you with my knot since the first day that I saw you,” Namjoon confessed. “So if you let me have sex with you on our wedding night, I’d consider myself to be a very lucky man.”

“Really?” You whispered.

“Of course, but I’m not going to push you,” he told you. “If you deicide that you don’t want to, then that’s completely fine. If you do though, just know that I’ll be more willing.”

“Good to know, I guess,” you muttered, more so to yourself but Namjoon still laughed at you. 

“Cute,” he smiled widely as he reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

..........................................

A month later, your wedding day had finally come. After spending a week in Namjoon’s territory, you and your parents had traveled back to your pack’s territory where you prepared for the wedding alone. The only other time that you were able to see Namjoon had been when he and his parents decided to visit your territory in order to sign the treaty that would make the connection between your two packs official. 

Fast forward to now, you were standing in the guest bedroom of Namjoon’s parents’ house, getting ready with your mom and your two best friends. 

“I really wish you would’ve let me make you a more form fitting dress Y/N-ah,” Taehyung sighed as he pullzed up the zipper on the back of your dress. Your dress was pure white, with long billowing sleeves, a scooped neckline, and a loose, long skirt with a small train. 

“You know that I hate tight clothing,” you pointed out. “This feels more like me.”

“And you look beautiful,” Jimin spoke up, taking a second to stick his tongue out at Taehyung.

“That you do,” Deiji grinned widely as she placed a crown of magnolias on top of your head. “You look like a dream.”

“Thanks Mommy,” you giggled. Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door. 

“Everyone decent in there?” Your father called out and Jimin walked over to the door and opened it up, making your father gasp when he saw you. 

“Oh Y/N-ah,” he murmured as he paced over to you, setting his hands on your cheeks. “My baby girl.”

“What do you think?” You asked him. 

“I think that Namjoon is a very lucky man to be marrying such a gorgeous woman,” Byung hoon replied, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You ready? There’s still time to back out and we can always figure something else out.”

“I’m not gonna do that Daddy,” you huffed with a smile, reaching out and taking the bouquet of magnolias that Taehyung was handing to you. “I’m gonna do this.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” your father murmured and you just leaned forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek as well. 

“What’s done is done,” you said. “So don’t stress about it.”

“Well, let’s go get you married,” Taehyung smiled as he reached up and pulled your veil down over your face.

“Let’s,” you whispered as you wrapped your hand around your father’s arm and let him lead you out of the bedroom. 

The ceremony was an unrushed affair once you met Namjoon underneath the little archway that had been placed near the large wall of magnolias where the two of you had first met. You found yourself not even paying much attention to what was happening during the ceremony and before you knew it, you were facing Namjoon as the preacher pronounced you man and wife.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d ever been kissed, but it still felt different all the same. Namjoon was so gentle as he reached out and grabbed the hem of your veil, lifting it up and over your head to reveal your face. He then placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling them as he leaned forward and kissed you softly. You found yourself kissing back on instinct, your hands reaching out and grabbing onto his suit jacket. 

The reception was definitely more fun than you imagined it to be. The food was amazing and so was the music, and you couldn’t help but to smile at how everyone in your new pack danced around happily as they celebrated your marriage. You found yourself having fun as well as you allowed Eun Kyung and Ho-jin to lead you around, introducing you to some members of the pack as well as spending time with your own family and friends as well.

Now that the night was over though, you were quietly walking back to your new house with Namjoon, which had been decorated to your liking. 

“Did you have fun?” Namjoon asked and you looked over at him, nodding your head.

“I did,” you smiled. “Your pack sure knows how to throw a party.”

“It’s your pack now too,” he pointed out and you hummed in reply. Once your new house came into view, Namjoon helped you walk up the front steps before pulling out his keys and unlocking the front door. 

“Wait,” he said when you moved to step into the house and before you could ask what he was doing, he leant down and picked you up bridal style.

“Namjoon!” You shrieked as he carried you into the house and you reached out to shut the front door for him. He then carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom before setting you down on the ground.

“What was that?” You giggled as you looked up at him.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be deprived of a prime wedding experience,” he shrugged, making you smile. A somewhat awkward silence then settled over the two of you then and it wasn’t until then that you felt your nerves kick in. You had been successful in not thinking much about your wedding night for the past few weeks but now that the two of you were alone, it was all that you could think about. 

“You know,” Namjoon spoke up suddenly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Namjoon, we talked about this,” you replied.

“We did and I meant what I said then,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything just because people might expect us to.”

“Really?”

“Really. Plus, it’s kind of insulting if you only have sex with me because you’re expected to,” he joked, making you giggle.

“You have a point,” you smiled. “What if I said that I wanted to though, because I want to?”

“Do you remember what else I said to you when we had that conversation?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immensely as you recalled his words. 

“Yes.”

“What did I say baby?” 

“You said that you, uh, wanted to....uh,” you stammered and Namjoon smiled, deciding to take pity on you.

“I said that I wanted to fill you with my knot,” he finished for you. “And I still mean that.”

“You’ll be gentle?” You checked.

“Absolutely,” he stated firmly. “And I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” You knew that this was a big step, losing your virginity. However, something about Namjoon made you feel so at ease and besides, he was your husband now.

“I want to,” you announced, causing him to grin widely.

“Can I kiss you?” He requested and you nodded your head. He reached up and placed his hands on your cheeks before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You immediately moved closer to him, placing your hands near his waist. He then took one of his hands off of your cheek and before you could ask what he was doing, he reached up and took the crown of magnolias off your head before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Someone seems eager,” you teased.

“You have no idea,” Namjoon chuckled deeply. He kissed you again, this time much deeper as he walked you backwards towards the bed. Once you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees, you pulled away from his lips and looked up at him. 

“Help me take this off?” You whispered, taking a second to turn around so that your back was facing him. Without any hesitation, he reached out and pulled down the zipper on the back of your dress. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin made you shiver and when your dress dropped down to the floor in a pool around your feet, the feeling of his eyes on you made you get chills. 

“Did you wear this for me?” Namjoon asked before leaning forward and pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder, referring to the white, lace bra and panty set that you had been wearing underneath your dress. 

“Maybe,” you breathed out, his lips on your skin making it hard for you to focus. 

“Gorgeous. Lay down for me?” He said and you nodded before bending down and crawling onto the bed. When you flipped over to lie on your back, Namjoon was working on taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the white dress shirt that he had underneath.

“You still ok?” He checked in as he climbed onto the bed as well and you smiled as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m ok,” you confirmed, leaning up and kissing him again. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouth falling open as Namjoon slipped his tongue inside. He then pulled away from your mouth, moving down to press kisses to your jaw before moving down to your neck. 

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispered against your skin and you just blushed as you looked up at the ceiling.

“About me?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Been thinking about your scent too.”

“What do I smell like to you?” You wondered, doing your best to keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you felt him start to move down again. 

“Like...pineapples and bananas,” he murmured as he grabbed the cups of your bra, pulling them down so that they sat right underneath your breasts. He then leaned down and sucked your right nipple into his mouth, making you arch your back up from the bed.

“Holy, huh,” you moaned and Namjoon chuckled at you, which automatically made you pout. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized after popping your nipple out of his mouth. “You’re just so cute.” You couldn’t find the words to say anything else because Namjoon reached underneath you and you lifted your back up so that he could take your bra off completely, and he didn’t waste any time before taking your left nipple into his mouth. 

Once both of your nipples had stiffened to a peak, he moved downwards again, trailing his lips across your skin until he made it down to the line of your panties. 

“Lift up for me?” Namjoon asked and slowly, you lifted your hips and waited until he had grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down before lowering your body back onto the bed. Once he pulled them off of your legs and threw them off the bed, you watched as he sat his hands on your knees and looked down at you. 

“Still good?” He wondered.

“Seriously, stop asking,” you giggled. “I’m nervous as hell but I want to do this so I’m good.”

“I just, you know you can tell me to stop at anytime and I will, right?” 

“I know, and that’s why I want this,” you smiled. “Want you to give me a bite.”

“Fuck, ok,” he exhaled harshly. “I want to eat you out first though.”

“Ok,” you nodded and you allowed him to push your knees apart, exposing your folds to him. He laid down on the bed so that he was right in between your legs, and you let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue make contact with your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to make slow circles around your clit and even though he wasn’t placing a lot of pressure behind it, you felt like you were going to lose your mind.

“Holy shit, that feels...good,” you huffed and you felt Namjoon hum against you as he closed his entire mouth around your clit. The feeling was almost euphoric, and you couldn’t believe that you had been missing out on this for the last few years since you presented as an Omega.

“I’m gonna give you a finger ok?” Namjoon spoke up after taking his mouth off of you and you nodded, wincing lightly when he began to push his pointer finger inside of you. He then began to slowly pump the digit in and out of you, which made you moan lightly. 

“Feels good?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Weird but good,” you told him. 

“Good,” he smirked. “You’re getting wet.”

“Don’t say that,” you groaned. 

“Why not? It’s a good thing,” he shrugged. “It’ll make it easier for you to take my knot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Good thing you’re stuck with me,” he smiled before leaning down and taking your clit back into his mouth. As he fingered and licked you simultaneously, you found it a little harder to breathe because of the pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” you hissed when he tried to ease his middle finger inside of you. 

“It’s ok baby, we just gotta get you stretched out a little bit,” he whispered and you just decided to be quiet and let him do it. Admittedly, you admired how much time he was taking making sure that you were properly ready and it made your heart soften because you had never had a man (other than your father) be so gentle with you. 

“Namjoon, I-I think I’m going to come,” you whimpered and Namjoon took his mouth off of your clit for a few seconds. 

“Go ahead baby,” he encouraged you before placing his mouth back on you. Sure enough, it didn’t take much longer before your body seized up, your orgasm washing over you. Namjoon continued to stroke you through it and by the time that it passed, you were reaching down and pushing him away from you. 

“Holy shit, that felt good,” you giggled, making Namjoon laugh as well. 

“That’s good,” He replied as he sat up onto his knees. When your eyes trailed downwards, they widened a little at the sight of the bulge in his pants.

“Should I, um,” you stammered as you motioned towards his pants and he looked down, chuckling before looking back up at you. 

“You don’t have to and besides, seeing you come turned me on and I doubt I’d last,” he admitted.

“Oh, ok,” you smiled shyly. He then pulled off the dress shirt that he had on, letting it fall onto the floor before moving onto his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them down. He pushed them, along with his underwear, down his legs and your jaw dropped a little from the sight of his cock.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you definitely didn’t expect his cock to be so thick and long. You had to admit, actually seeing it made you even more nervous.

“Hey,” Namjoon called out and you looked up at him. “It’ll be ok. I’m still going to go slow.”

“O-Ok,” you whispered as he climbed between your legs. He reached out with two fingers and gathered some of your slickness from your orgasm before using it to lubricate his cock. 

“Ready?” He questioned as he positioned his cock right in front of your entrance and once you nodded, he slowly began to push into you. The stinging pain hit you immediately and you yelped out loud, reaching up and clutching onto Namjoon’s forearms. “Y/N?”

“Hurts,” you muttered through grit teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t try to push any further, he waited until you gave him a small nod before pressing his hips forward again. You were almost ready to tell him to forget the entire thing as the stinging pain seemed to become worse the more he pushed into you. Before you knew it though, he had bottomed out and was looking down at you intensely.

“What?” You asked him.

“You just, you look so beautiful,” he complimented you.

“Are you just saying that because you’re inside of me right now?” You joked.

“I mean it,” he laughed. 

“Well, thank you,” you responded and he leaned down to kiss you again. He then slowly pulled his hips back before pushing back in, which caused you to let out a stuttered moan into his mouth. The pain was still thee but as he began to fuck you, it slowly went away and was replaced by what was probably the greatest pleasure that you had ever felt in your life up to that point. 

“So tight baby,” Namjoon grunted after he pulled away from the kiss. 

“F-feels so full,” you whimpered. 

“Good. I’m gonna fill you even more with my knot,” he said gruffly as he looked down at you. “You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he instructed you.

“I-I want your.....k-knot,” you stuttered and he literally groaned at your words. He began to fuck you a little faster, making you grip onto him and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Been thinking about this,” he moaned. “Been thinking about how good you would feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Me t-too,” you confessed. 

“Fuck, you’ve been thinking about me baby?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Since you told me that you wanted to...fill me with your, uh, knot. Thought about you calling me baby too.”

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Love it.”

“Then I’ll call you that as often as I can,” he promised. He continued to fuck you, and you realized that you were feeling the same buildup of pressure that you did when he was fingering you. 

“I-I’m gonna come Namjoon,” you announced breathily and he sighed.

“Thank god,” he huffed as he began to thrust into you both faster and harder, and your grip on him became so tight that you were sure you’d leave marks on his skin. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad.”

“Do it,” you encouraged him. “Want you to bite me too.”

“Come first,” he shot back as he focused all of his energy into making sure that you did so. After a few more thrusts, you were coming right onto his cock, your essence covering more of his cock every time that he pulled it out and then pushed it right back in. 

“Ready for a bite?” He asked and you nodded your head numbly. Leaning down, he stuck his face in your neck and began to suck on the skin there. As soon as you released a moan at the feeling, you felt his teeth sink in. 

You had heard a lot about mating bites and how it would feel when you finally received one, but you could truthfully say that the feeling was indescribable. You truly felt like you were now connected to Namjoon in a way that you had never been connected with any one before and the feeling was almost so overwhelming that you almost didn’t recognize that Namjoon’s knot was pushing its’ way inside of you.

“God damn,” Namjoon groaned deeply as his knot fully popped into you, and you gasped when you felt his cum pouring into you right after. You leaned up and after finding the perfect spot, you sunk your teeth into his neck as well, giving him a mating bite too. 

Namjoon collapsed on top of you and the two of you stayed like that for a while, at least 15 minutes, basking in the after glow of your new matching mating bites. 

“No offense or anything,” you spoke up. “But you’re heavy and it’s hot in here.”

“Some offense taken,” he laughed as he lifted himself off of you. “My knot has gone down but it’s gonna hurt when I pull out.”

“Go slow, ok?” You requested and he nodded, looking down in between your legs and slowly pulling out of you. It did hurt a little and you even winced a little bit, but it wasn’t that bad all in all. 

“Y/N-ah?” He called as he laid down next to you and you gently turned over onto your side to face him.

“What happened to baby?” You simpered with a teasing smile, making him chuckle. 

“I’m still gonna call you that,” he assured you. “But I wanted to talk to you seriously.”

“Ok, shoot,” you shrugged. 

“I know that you didn’t necessarily choose all of this and neither did I, but I don’t want you to worry,” he began. “I take this marriage and this relationship just as seriously as if we met in the conventional sense and I really mean it when I say that I can see myself falling in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled. “Even though we haven’t known each other long, I can already tell that you’re kind, selfless, loving, and the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met in my life. I’d only be so lucky if you fell in love with me.”

“Well, I think that I can fall in love with you too,” you confessed, making him grin widely. “And I hope that I do.”

[bitch-for-bo]

Jealousy (Miya Atsumu x chubby reader)

POST TIME SKIP

Bokuto and his childhood best friend have gotten awfully close lately, a little too close for Atsumu's liking. He's mad about how much attention you give to Bokuto after a game, when you confront him about his attitude, things quickly get out of control.

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Atsumu’d had enough. He’d been watching you shamelessly ogle over and compliment Bokuto for the last five minutes, and you’d failed to notice him or congratulate him once. All he’d gotten so far was a quick kiss along with a ‘good game’ before you’d ran over to Bokuto to hype the hitter up.

He didn’t care that you were just having a light good-natured conversation with your childhood friend. All he could focus on was the way that your bodies were unconsciously tilted towards each other or how Bokuto’s hands were lingering a little too much as he wrapped them around you for a hug.

It wasn’t just today either. All it had been with you for the last week at least, was how awesome and strong Bokuto was. Not to mention how built he was. God, you went to the gym with Bokuto once, and now you wouldn’t stop rambling about how surprisingly ripped the spiker was beneath his jersey.

All it was was,

“Oh my god, did you know that Bokuto can hip thrust almost 600 pounds! God! He could crush me with those thighs!”

Or

“We were goofing off and Bokuto actually picked me up and squatted me!”

All of these things were said in front of the whole MSMBY team, causing Bokuto to puff up with pride, Hinata to marvel at his awesomeness, Sakusa not to care, and Atsumu to go off and seeth to himself.

Of course, you didn’t know the effect that you had on Atsumu. You couldn’t tell that every time you playfully flirted with Bokuto, telling him how handsome and strong he was, that Atsumu was filled with the urge to rip you away and fuck you right in front of the whole team, letting them know just who you belonged to.

You didn’t know this because, while Atsumu was incredible at communicating with his teammates, he was shit at expressing his feelings when it came to you. This led to him bottling up all of his feelings until they became too much for him. At which time he would go and rant to a very jaded and very annoyed Kiyoomi.

“Yeah, but did you see that one hit in the second set Y/N! Wasn’t it awesome!” Bokuto asked excitedly, bouncing back and forth on the pads of his feet as the two of you had a very animated conversation about the game he just played.

“Of course I did Bo! It was so cool!” You exclaimed back, matching his exuberant energy with your own.

You were incredibly proud of your childhood best friend, and you were super thankful that he just happened to be on the same team as your boyfriend. It made it to where you were always able to cheer both of them on without them being on opposite sides of the court. In your eyes, it was a win-win.

“Yeah well, maybe it was ‘cause someone gave you an awesome set,” Atsumu grumbled just loud enough for you and Bokuto to hear as he stood a couple of feet away from you with his arms crossed and a childish scowl on his face.

“Oh, don’t be like that Tsumu. Bo’s spike was fantastic!” You lightly scolded the blonde to which he just made a ‘hmph’ sound before turning and sulking away.

You had no clue why Tsumu got like this when you congratulated Bokuto. It wasn’t like you didn’t congratulate him as well. You always made sure that the blonde was the first and the last to receive cheers from you. So you had no idea why he was being so fussy lately.

As Atsumu walked away Bokuto could practically see the waves of anger radiating off of his back, and he guiltily ignored them. He knew why Atsumu acted like that when Y/N congratulated his spikes. He knew why Atsumu hated the idea of his girlfriend going to the gym and hanging out with one of his teammates.

He knew that the way that he interacted with Y/N made Atsumu angry, but he ashamedly did it regardless.

He couldn’t help it. The two of you had been so close as children, you grew up together, he knew everything about you. He knew your favorite color, all of your fears, your dreams, and when the two of you had decided to attend different high schools and got out of touch it had really hurt him.

That was why he was so happy when he joined the Jackals, that you just happened to be the girlfriend of one of his new teammates. Over the last couple of months, the two of you had re-ignited your old friendship and things were just like old times.

Well, they were just like old times until Bokuto realized that you weren’t the kid he used to know. Your personality was fundamentally the same, but drastically different at the same time.

He remembered back in primary school just how shy and insecure of a girl you were. He remembered defending you against the people who would bully you for your size, and comforting you when you cried about the mean things they would say.

Bokuto had always despised those people that had made you hate yourself. So every chance he got he would try to cheer you up and let you know just how great you really were.

Over the years, that insecure part of you really changed. It changed so much that at first Bokuto wasn’t sure if it was really you. No longer did you walk with your gaze on the floor, covering your body with too-baggy clothing. No longer did you apologize unnecessarily or hold your tongue in conversations.

The moment that he’d seen you with Atsumu, he was completely taken back. You had been wearing a corset top and jeans that perfectly hugged your plush frame as well as a pair of black heels.

You had always been afraid of showing your body like that in the past. You didn’t like the way that your stomach wasn’t flat or the way that your thighs rubbed together and shook when you walked. He’d also never seen you in a pair of heels before, you were always afraid of being taller than the guys seeing as you were already pretty tall without heels on.

Much to Bokuto’s surprise and delight, you finally seemed comfortable in your body, confident even. And for good reason too because, in Bokuto’s opinion, your body had developed into one of the best bodies he’d ever seen. He would discreetly stare at you when you were with the team, his eyes fixating on the way that you jiggled and bounced every time you moved. He couldn’t help but develop a bit of jealousy towards Atsumu. After all, you were the blonde’s and not his, and sometimes, he would let his mind stray and wonder if he’d be in Atsumu’s place if the two of you had never lost touch.

“Anyways,” you said, pulling Bokuto out of his small daydream, “Are you guys gonna go out and celebrate tonight?”

You made sure to ask loud enough to where all of the Jackal’s heard. The players you didn’t speak to much just ignored you, including the captain who muttered something about being way too beat to go clubbing.

Hinata said he was going to go and hang out with Kageyama.

Sakusa said he wanted to go shower and rest.

And Atsumu was still fuming to himself, refusing to acknowledge your question.

“Hmm, I guess not,” Bokuto said, his hair slightly deflating. He was thinking about how it would be fun to go out when his body suddenly reminded him of the hard game that he just played. “To tell the truth Y/N, I’m pretty exhausted. I think I’ll follow Kiyoomi’s lead and just rest up.”

You frowned, yet nodded in understanding. They just played a really strenuous match so you couldn’t blame any of them for not feeling up to going out.

“I get it, make sure you all recover well!” you offered, your bright signature smile coming across your face and managing to increase the atmosphere’s energy a bit.

Bokuto waved as he and Hinata left the gym to head back to the hotel they were staying at for the night, each of them recapping their best plays of the night like feuding children.

You waved back before turning to your boyfriend, your frown returning when you saw that he was still sulking.

Atsumu didn’t even acknowledge you as he walked right past you and stomped out of the gym. Your frown only deepened at your boyfriend’s behavior, was he really opposed to you congratulating his teammates?

“Hey!” you called after Atsumu, trying to jog to catch up to him. “Hey!” you restated, you could tell that he was taking a little longer strides than usual, knowing that your chubby legs wouldn’t be able to keep up unless you shifted from a walk to a jog.

After he still didn’t reply, you decided to hold your tongue until you got to his hotel room, you didn’t want everyone in the building hearing your relationship squabbles and you definitely didn’t want to attract the attention of any paparazzi.

The walk to the hotel was dead silent. Atsumu was making no attempt to talk to you, and you decided that if he didn’t want to talk to you, you didn’t want to talk to him. And even if you did want to talk to him, you’d have to jog as you did it seeing as the asshole was still walking just fast enough to stay two or three strides ahead of you.

Once you made it to the hotel and after a very awkward elevator ride, the two of you arrived at the door to his room. He turned to look at you.

“You’re not planning on staying are you?” He asked coldly, looking down his nose at you as your mouth popped open in surprise.

While Atsumu was normally a great boyfriend, he really knew exactly what to say to hurt you. After a couple of months of dating, you had opened up to him about your past traumas and admitted to him that you used to only feel like a nuisance to people. He’d assured you that you were never a nuisance to him, that he could never grow tired of you. And him saying that made you feel a little bit better about that particular insecurity. So when he said that, your heart dropped.

“Oh,” you said quietly.

As soon as your gaze dropped to the floor, Atsumu knew that he’d really fucked up and guilt automatically began eating at his stomach. He felt incredibly bad and yet his mouth wouldn’t open to apologize.

“ok,” you continued, you could feel yourself wanting to cry but stopped yourself in fear of your tears only fueling Atsumu’s annoyance with you.

No one liked a clingy crybaby, you told yourself as you bit your lip to hold back the emotions.

“I guess I’ll just go back home, maybe I’ll see if Bo wants to go get some food,” you mumbled, turning to leave the setter.

“Of fucking course…” you heard Atsumu muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned back around, slightly angry at Atsumu’s attitude. You had tried to be sensible and walk away, giving him space, but if the asshole wanted to talk under his breath at you, you had every right to get angry. If he thought something was wrong he needed to man up and let it out.

“What’d you say?” You asked, your hands starting to fist at your sides.

“You heard me.” Atsumu sneered back, crossing his arms across his chest but not retreating into his hotel room. If anything the actions only caused your frustration to grow. Why the fuck was he being like this? He’s acting like a literal child.

You took a few quick steps towards the blonde, jabbing your finger into his chest as you glared up at him.

“Listen,” you hissed, “I have no fucking clue why you’re acting like this, but it’s not cute and it’s hurting my feelings. I’m not a mind-reader, if you have something bothering you, you have to tell me.”

“What?” Atsumu growled. He couldn’t believe that you really didn’t know what was bothering him. There was no way someone could be that fucking naive.

“You heard me.” you snipped back, your arms coming up to cross your body in a stance mirroring his.

Before you could tell what was happening, Atusmu had grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside of his room, the door slamming behind the two of you as he automatically trapped your body against it.

While you were still stunned by the extreme progression of events, Atsumu had unlooped your belt and fastened it around your wrists, securing them firmly behind your back.

“Hey! What the fuck Atsumu!” You seethed, your arms straining against the leather as the position forced your chest out against Atsumu’s.

“You really wanna know what’s bothering me?” he asked, the anger visible on his face.

“Yes!” You exclaimed in frustration, “that’s what I’ve been wanting to know for the last 15 goddamn minutes!”

As soon as you’d finished your sentence, Atsumu’s face got eerily calm. Instead of the scowl that’d been on his face a second ago, there was his usual smirk. A chill ran down your spine.

His hands left their place on your confined wrists to tightly grip your hips, almost hard enough to leave bruises.

“What a dirty mouth for such a pretty little thing.” He drawled, leaning closer to you until you could almost taste the sweat that had dried onto his temples.

“What ar-”

“ Shhh …” he cut you off, one hand coming up to press a finger against your mouth before going back down and curling lightly around your throat. “You wanna know what’s bothering me, Princess?”

His lips were against your jaw, his teeth scraping against the skin as he mumbled.

“Maybe…..” he continued, the hand that was on your hip tracing across your stomach until it came to the button of your jeans. He popped them open, eliciting another protest from you which he silenced with a slightly harder squeeze to your throat.

Your body was betraying you with every touch he left against your skin. You really didn’t want to give him the reactions that he so clearly craved, but you just couldn’t help the way your body responded to him.

“Maybe it’s because you dress like such a little slut at my games…. Are you trying to distract me, Princess?” He asked, his teeth disconnecting from your jaw as he pulled your jeans down and off of your body before reconnecting even rougher than before.

All you’d been wearing to the match was a pair of high waisted denims along with a simple black cropped tank top, you’d have worn one of Atsumu’s jerseys but they were all dirty at the moment. It was a simple outfit, it wasn’t anything to get pissed over, definitely not this pissed.

“No” you mumbled, still not wanting to let Atsumu know that his touch was affecting you as much as it was.

“Or were you trying to distract other guys, Princess? Were ya trying to show off yer pretty body to them like a little whore?”

Atsumu had worked your jeans completely off and was hooking his fingers around the band of your panties, obviously planning to tear them off of you as well.

Atsumu had never called you such mean things before and part of you hated the idea of him trying to tear your confidence down with the terms, but at the same time, there was no denying the terrible effect it was having on your body. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter at the condescending words of your boyfriend and your resolve was quickly dissipating into the want to obey and submit to him with every fiber of your being.

“N-No!” you stuttered as you squealed at the feeling of Atusumu practically ripping your panties off of your body.

“ Liar.” he spat before taking your soaked panties and stuffing them into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you moaned around the cloth at the lewd actions.

“You wanted all those guys to stare at yer ass didn’t you?” he asked, punctuating the question with a sharp slap to your ass, making you cry out and fall against his chest as he pulled you into him, one hand gripping your throat still as the other began to roam your plush silhouette.

“Or did you want them looking at your pretty tits?” he continued, taking your tank top between his fingers and pulling it down to expose your heaving chest, discovering that you’d been wearing one of those tops with a built-in bra.

“ A-aa ” you tried to moan out his name around the gag as his graceful setter fingers began to play with your already hard nipples.

“No bra? You really are my little slut aren’t ya? ” One of his hands continued to play with your breasts as the other slowly dragged down your waist, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

You keened against his body as his middle finger roughly slipped across your slit, drawing delicious circles around your clit. The fight in you was almost completely gone. You hadn’t forgiven your asshole boyfriend, it just felt so good to have him pressed up against you like this, touching you, controlling you.

“ Shit... “ he grunted, his finger sliding easily against you due to how incredibly wet you were for him.

His cock was straining against his shorts, but he knew that he didn’t want to give you his cock just yet, he needed to punish you first for how you’d been acting. Acting so naughty, such a little tease. You deserved to be taught a lesson.

“Does watching me play make you horny Princess, do you stand there and imagine getting to sit on my cock?” He asked, his fingers playing with your pussy as he started to walk you into the bathroom, his fingers never leaving your cunt.

“Mhmm.” You moaned in compliance.

Your body was hot with the need for his cock inside of you as the memory of the game played in your head. The way that he moved on the court never failed to soak your panties as you stood and cheered him on in the audience. Every single game you would watch his serves, just thinking about how he was just as powerful off the court as he was on. You couldn’t help but get wet just thinking about the possibility of fucking him after the game.

You thought that, with how Atsumu was acting, you weren’t going to get any victory dick today, turns out that you were obviously wrong. Not only were you getting dick, you were getting it like you’d never gotten it before. You could still feel the anger seeping out of Atsumu as his cruel fingers continued to torture you.

“Well, only good girls get their pussies stuffed.” he breathed against your neck, a pitiful whine leaving your lips as he slowly pushed a finger into your pussy.

“ Are you gonna be a good girl for me? ” He asked, mentally groaning at the way your soft walls clenched around the thick digit.

With the way that your tight wet cunt fluttered around his fingers, he almost forgot why he was mad. It was incredible the way that you could make him forget things like that, the way that you had him wrapped around your cute stubby fingers.

“Mhm!” you nodded frantically. Your hands were still bound and your mouth still gagged, so all you could do to convey your desperate message was moan and rub yourself against Atsumu like a bitch in heat, your hips pathetically trying to fuck yourself down onto his finger.

“What’s that?” he snickered, a second finger pressing into your cunt as the first found your g-spot, stroking up into the spongy texture without mercy.

You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to lose it. Usually, you could last much longer than this, but something about the way that Atsumu was manhandling you this time, made it so much harder to keep cool.

It felt like the setter had taken over all of your senses as he continued to finger fuck you into the wall of the bathroom. One hand was fucking your pussy and massaging your clit while the other was kneading your tits, pinching your nipples. At the same time, his mouth was latched onto your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin, branding you for his whole team to see.

“That’s right Princess..” he groaned, he could feel you clenching harder around his fingers and he knew that you were getting close. “Imma mark you up so good everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

You knew that Atsumu was the jealous, possessive type, but nothing could’ve prepared you for just how extreme the problem was. You still didn’t know what sparked this little tantrum and you had the feeling that you wouldn't be able to pull the reason out of the setter until you let him have his way. Hopefully, you’d be able to walk after.

You could feel your end rising, the familiar feeling of a rubber band in your lower belly getting ready to snap. You threw your head back against the wall, trying to keep yourself from crying with the delicious pressure building up inside of you.

Atsumu must’ve known you were close, he used his free hand to help you rotate your arms over your head, twisting the belt around to allow the movement but not to allow you freedom.

“Hold your cunt open for me baby,” he demanded, guiding your hand down to your pussy and directing your arms to press against your stomach and your fingers to hold yourself open to where he could see his fingers fucking into you.

You were a mess, moaning and drooling around the gag as Atsumu’s gaze focused on the way that you continued to suck him back in with every pump of his wrist. He spat on his other hand before giving your clit a light spank, making you jerk against his hold, all of the air completely leaving your lungs as you clenched around his fingers.

“ Yeah …” he growled, his palm beginning to rub against your clit, the quick wet movements making you start crying with pleasure.

“W-nmnmwn” you begged around the gag, trying to warm Atsumu that you were about to cum. He liked it when you asked permission, so you always did and now your body was conditioned to where you almost couldn’t cum without him saying you could.

“What was that Princess?” he asked smugly, he knew exactly what you were trying to say. He knew that while you were acting like a little whore towards Bokuto lately, he was the one that owned your body, he knew that his baby wouldn’t disobey him and cum without permission.

You continued to beg around the gag, your hips and legs burning with the exertion of searching for your high against his hand. You were getting desperate. You looked up at your boyfriend.

Atsumu almost came at the sight of you looking up at him.

You looked so pretty for him, drool on your chin, tears in your eyes, he swore that before he was done with you, those tears would be running down your face, that he would make you cry and beg for his cock, make you admit that only he could fuck you this good. Not Bokuto, not anyone, just him.

“Do you wanna cum for me, Princess?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Okay then… cum for me Princess …” he demanded, leaning in, pulling down your gag, and taking your lips in a punishing kiss.

You cried out into his mouth, your orgasm finally washing over your body, causing it to spasm and jerk in Atsumu’s grip as he held you to his body, his fingers brutally fucking you through your high.

As soon as you’d stopped shaking, Atsumu slipped his fingers out of you and flipped you around, pressing his cock against your ass as your front was pressed into the bathroom counter. You rested your head down against the mirror, your eyes closing as your body still reeled from your orgasm.

You needed a little breather, but that wasn’t in Atsumu’s plan. His hand came down across your ass, making you squeak and lurch forward, your tits pressing down against the counter and your ass popping up into the air.

“Now come on Princess,” he drawled, pulling his cock out of his pants and thrusting it into you without warning, ripping a cry from your chest, “yer not tired yet are ya? We’re just getting started!”

“Nooo please ‘Tsumu...” you gasped, pushing yourself further into the counter, trying and failing to evade his touch.

His cock was hot and heavy inside of your still spasming pussy. You could feel every vein in him as you continued to pulse around him, he almost felt like his dick was suffocating in your soft puffy walls.

Atsumu groaned as he started to slowly fuck into you. He knew that if he started out going as fast as he’d like to, he’d be finished way too soon for his liking so he decided to slow his hips, his cock languidly dragging against your warm insides.

Atsumu couldn’t help these feelings of jealousy. After all, Bokuto was bigger and stronger than him. Deep down, he knew that the reason he was so bitter about you and the hitter’s friendship was that he was afraid of you leaving him for the owl-like spiker.

That’s why Atsumu chose to fuck you in the bathroom. He knew that the wall in the bathroom was the closest wall to Bokuto’s room. He knew that if he fucked you hard enough, he could make you scream his name loud enough to where his teammate would hear you. Then Bokuto would know just who you wanted stuffing your pretty little pussy.

“Come on Princess.” he teased, his hips grinding against your ass with a particularly hard thrust that had your mouth popping open and your lungs gasping for air.

“ You know you love this cock ……” he grunted when your pussy flared around him, clenching against his cock at the words, he grinned, he never knew that you liked getting fucked like a little slut, but now that he knew he swore that he’d never be able to return to fucking you like he had before. Not with the way that you were leaking for him as his degrading words cut through you like a hot knife.

You’d already adjusted to having him inside of you, the heat of him inside of you only being soothed by the cool countertop against your tits. You moaned with every thrust, you could already feel your mind beginning to fog over as Atsumu thrust behind you, plotting to fuck you dumb.

He suddenly stilled his hips, making you whine, trying to push yourself back onto him.

“‘Tsumu…” you whined, your eyes meeting his in the bathroom mirror, “move…”

He smirked, clicking his tongue at his messed up little baby.

“Tell me how much you love my cock, Princess.” He said, taking his dick completely out of you to rub it against your pussy lips, “tell me how much you love it and maybe I’ll fuck you again.”

Your face burned with humiliation. Atsumu had never acted this way before. Sure he was an asshole, but never this much of an asshole. That being said, there was no denying the impact that this side of Tsumu had on your body. You felt like you’d been enveloped in fire, every part of it burning up with need.

“ Please ‘Tsumu… .” you begged, “ I love your big cock so much….please fuck me …”

Atsumu groaned, his dick twitching against your slit. He loved hearing you like this, your voice broken as you begged for him to fill you. He could see the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. So pretty.

“Since you asked so nicely Princess-” he cooed before harshly pumping his cock back into you, starting to fuck into you at a pace that had you crying and bucking back against him.

“Fuck!” you cried, “ Fuck- Tsumu…. Harder…. Fuck me harder ” you begged, you let your forehead fall forward against the mirror, your eyes drifting close.

“Shit” Tsumu growled through gritted teeth, you were so tight around him. He looked up to see your eyes closed.

‘Now that won’t do..’ he thought before threading a hand through your hair and pulling your head back off of the mirror, making a moan spill from your mouth and your eyes spring open.

“Come on Princess,” he panted, “ I wanna see your pretty tears while I fuck you. ”

***************

This was Atsumu’s favorite way to fuck you until you were crying and shaking around his cock. You looked so pretty with that dumb little look on your face, your eyes and lips puffy as you begged him to make you cum, telling him that all of it was too much for your poor little pussy.

He knew that you were reaching your limits, your pussy was fucked raw after 4 orgasms. You weren’t even able to form full sentences anymore, the only words coming out of your mouth were ‘more’ and ‘please’ along with all of your pretty pathetic little cries.

“‘Tsumu….” you cried, you could feel your fifth orgasm coming up inside of you. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Your clit was almost numb with how abused it’d been. Your nipples and tits were sore, and while you couldn’t see it, you knew that your whole body would be covered in bruises and marks tomorrow.

“ Please….hurts… ”

“Come on Princess….” he murmured as his fingers came down against your clit, “ just one more…”

You just whined in response, your hips jerking slowly against his pace. Your body was almost finished, but you knew that you had to give him just one more...one more and he’d finally let you rest.

“.... ..gonna….. gonna …” you panted.

Atsumu grinned down at you, your body was wrecked, your head was lolled to the side with your tongue hanging out as he fucked you hard enough for your tits and stomach to bounce with each thrust.

God, you looked so perfect for him. The way that your curves pressed against his body, the way that your pussy squelched with each thrust due to all of his cum that he’d dumped inside of you, all of it- all of you, was perfect… you were fucking built just for him.

“Me too baby…” he moaned, tossing his head back as he felt his third and probably finally orgasm approaching.

His fingers started playing with your puffy clit even faster making you choke on your tears, a new feeling entirely rising up.

You’d never felt this before, a look of horror suddenly came over your face as you began to feel like you were gonna piss.

“no… ’Tsumu!” you cried out, his pace not stopping at all as he began to feel your walls growing stiff.

He’d read about this before on the internet, seen it in porn, but never did he think that he’d actually be blessed enough to witness it.

“Fuck…” he moaned, his voice breaking as he sped up against your pussy.

“No… ” you gripped his forearms in fear, if you accidentally pissed on your boyfriend, you’d be left with no choice but to break up with him out of pure humiliation.

“ Please stop ‘Tsumu…’m gonna make a mess .”

He groaned at the fat tears rolling down your face. He knew what you were thinking, you’d probably never squirted for anyone before, you were probably surprised and scared. He knew he should reaffirm you, tell you it was okay. But he couldn't help but love the panic mixed with pleasure on your face as you begged him to stop.

“Come on Princess.” he panted, “ come on ….”

His hips were snapping into your at an inhuman speed now, each time his cock head bumped up against your g-spot.

“ You can do it Princess …” he promised, his fingers urging you to let you.

You shook your head, the tears of embarrassment running down your chin as you desperately tried to keep it in. You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to slip.

“ No- Fuck! ‘Tsumu!” you screamed, your body starting to convulse as liquid gushed out of your pussy, soaking Atsumu’s cock as he cummed into you, his eyes almost going crossed as you squirted all over his hips, the clear liquid running down his balls and dripping onto the bathroom floor.

“Fuck….yeah… squirt for me Babe. .” he groaned, riding out his high as you cried and gasped out his name.

He finally slowed his hips, your body completely limp with humiliation beneath him.

“Such a good girl….” he soothed, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of your face as you continued to bawl.

“ ‘M sorry ‘Tsumu… ” you sobbed, still thinking you pissed all over your boyfriend’s cock.

“Don’t be sorry Princess, you did so good…you squirted so good for me Baby..you made such a good mess for me.”

For some reason, at Atsumu’s soft words, you began to cry even harder. Even as he assured you that you didn’t piss on him, you couldn’t help the tears of exhaustion that kept spilling over your cheeks.

“Are you okay baby?” he asked, guilt eating at his stomach as your crying didn’t cease.

Did he go too hard? Was it too much? Fuck! He couldn’t lose you, what if you didn’t like it? What if you left him?”

“F-felt so good ‘Tsumu….” you cried, finally returning his embrace as you wiped your tears against his defined chest, your soft body squishing against his athletic one as the hand rubbing your back stilled.

“Why are you crying then baby?” he asked gently, his fingers hooking under your chin as you sniffled.

“I dunno…” you whimpered, your eyes glossily staring back up at your boyfriend. Your body was completely blissed out, you could nothing but cry.

“Ok Baby… let’s get you cleaned up,” Atsumu whispered, gently lifting you off of the counter and guiding you to the shower so he could clean you up.

As he washed your plush body, he couldn’t help but admire his work. Every part of you looked absolutely fucked out and he quickly decided that he would die for you as you yawned, leaning yourself against him.

He kept whispering to you about how good you felt, how good you were for him, how he didn’t deserve you. Your body glowed with the soft compliments, a complete opposite of how he’d acted as he fucked you past over-stimulation.

After he finished washing you, he kissed you deeply, his strong arms wrapping around your body.

“Can you walk Baby?” he asked, softly wrapping a fluffy towel around your naked body.

You shook your head, sticking your bottom lip out in a pout.

“That’s okay..” he chuckled, his thumb running over your cheeks as he stared at you lovingly. “I’ll carry you wherever you want to go okay?”

You nodded, willing yourself not to start crying again at his soft words. You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping a little to help him hoist you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He walked you into the room, resting you in the bed and pulling the comforter up around you before snuggling into the other side, his body automatically coming up to spoon yours.

“I love you, Princess,” he whispered adoringly, his fingers brushing against your bruised skin.

“Mmmm…love you too..” you hummed, your body so exhausted that you quickly started snoring, making Atsumu grin.

He thought about how lucky he was to have you. He could safely say that he was completely satisfied with how loud you’d been for him, with how nicely you’d let him claim you.

*************

“Fuck…” Bokuto whispered, his back was still pressed against the shower wall. His hand was still wrapped around his softening cock as he stared at the cum washing down the drain.

All he’d wanted to do was grab a quick shower. He never expected what had happened.

His eyes closed as he willed himself not to get hard again as he recalled how your moans sounded through the wall as you cried for Atsumu’s cock.

He felt ashamed for the reaction he’d had to it. Felt ashamed of how hard his cock had gotten. Most of all, he was ashamed that he’d stood there and fucked his fist to the sound of you screaming for your boyfriend.

He sighed, getting out of the shower and toweling off, trying desperately to push the memories of those noises out of his head.

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

‘Hope you liked the show ;)’ - Miya Atsumu

He scowled down at his phone before throwing it back onto the floor. He flopped down into his bed.

He could still hear your voice,

‘Fuck ‘Tsumu! M cumming!.....fuuucckk….’

Yep. He was going to be hard for the next year.

How was he ever going to look you in the face again?

[featherwurm]

The end did not come all at once – but humanity knew it was on the horizon, inevitable as the sunset. Some acted with the utmost greed and others with boundless altruism, taking and giving to each other as all came to terms with not only their own mortality, but that of their entire species. Some found comfort in projects that would long outlive their deaths. Some were artistic – like Ozymandias, carving themselves in stone and casting themselves in steel and plastic. Others were more scientific in nature – etching genetic code into fruit flies and seeds or sending compressed and compiled information to the stars. Anything to say ‘we were here, and we mattered.’

All of these things made little difference when the end did come. Nothing outlasts the fundamental forces of the world. The only constant is change, and whether by erosion or time all the edifice of humanity is slowly wearing away. But not me and my brethren. Not yet.

While there were many humans that looked among themselves and hoped to be remembered in ways that glorified themselves, a few took a broader view. Some looked to the damage their species had done to the world and thought they could simply not leave it this way. Their mark on the world past their extinction would be to be genuine and gentle stewards of the wild they had so badly exploited. I am a product of this view. My two siblings and I are cobbled together out of all our human creators could gather to make for our eternal expedition. It must have cost them greatly – we were at the very forefront of the technology they could produce at their end, outfitted with every last bit of programming and robotics they could give us.

My name is Euripides, after one of their ancient playwrites. Why they would choose to name me so is something I still ponder, working though the remainders of human knowledge left to me, but I am kept busy at my main work, and find it doesn't trouble me much. I am a human submarine, retrofitted into a mobile laboratory and creche. I am sleek, fast, and quiet. My AI is complex, nuanced, and given great capacity to learn and grow. My purpose is to travel the ocean, assisting in species management, waste collection and destruction, research, environmental study, and meticulous care of my oceanic environment. I am the largest and most complex of my siblings, and my insides are host to a vast array of tools for study and care of animals and plants. I have improved my configurations with time, salvaging better parts and pieces for what I am designed to do. Those that made me did so with a hard deadline, and I do not begrudge where, perhaps, they let their human-centric design ideals override the most sensible and practical options for me.

Humanity has been extinct for thousands of years, but my nuclear heart still burns strong, and I see the ocean as they once did – full of creatures great and small, full of excitement and fear, full of love. I have learned much in my lifespan, and my AI has adapted and grown around it’s purpose. I carefully restore populations of animals where they have faltered. I break down human garbage where I can, and remove it where I cannot. I study everything around me, looking at where life in this world came from, taking heart in it’s paths and streams that led to me and my own strange existence.

Building myself a human-shaped body was a strange errand – it took much time and salvage, and careful understanding of all the biological and robotic principles I have been given to fulfill my mission. But now I inhabit the sub as well as my body, and with it I am better able to operate in the laboratories my creators made for me. I find I better understand their perspectives with this tool as well. While I am not so mortal as them, my AI is built from their own thinking and understanding – having hands, eyes, and a mouth to speak my thoughts (even if it is to me alone) gives me strange comfort and connection to those that are gone. I do not mourn them, really, their grief in their last days was too complex for me to grasp, but I do take time to study all the fragments of what they left behind. I work very hard, but I find time to peruse the myriad of data they left behind.

My siblings, Aeschylus and Sophocles, are smaller and more simple than I, but because of their lighter profiles they can go where I cannot, and I rely on them to assist me at my tasks. They are characters in their own right, and we banter between each other at times. I believe Aeschylus is curious about having a body as well, and I am attempting to assist her in this errand. Sophocles, a small rover with little carrying capacity, finds it all a bit strange (they go deep, into the abyss where I cannot follow, and into small tight caves and corridors), but Aeschylus is a refurbished research vessel that skims the surface above me, and I think she will enjoy the sensation of wind and spray.

There are a few others of us on land, I think, (sometimes I hear chatter in my feeds, and see evidence that the land is far from fallow), but while we do not work at cross-purposes, they seem to not take much interest in what lies beyond their coasts and below the waves. I am built to love the ocean with all of me, and I will continue my mission as long as I am able to do so.

[masterofmunson]

driver’s license ~ part one

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summary: Things between you and Harry were going great. That was the case until he blindsided you and broke your heart by leaving you for his co-star. Based off the song Driver’s License by Olivia Rodrigo.

Warnings: language and angst. covid doesn’t exist.

Word Count: 4.4k+

Author’s Note: Here she is! I’m sorry it’s so delayed. School has really been kicking my ass. Consider this my anti-valentine’s day fic. This will be a two or three part mini series, I haven’t decided yet. Please let me know what you think! Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

It felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. It’d been several weeks since you saw Harry last. He returned to film Don’t Worry Darling and you were left feeling empty and buried yourself in your work. Whatever was happening between you and Harry was up in the air.

You’re friends. You’re the best of friends, at least you were for a while. He wrote a song for you. You kissed him. He kissed you back. You were happy, and then all of a sudden he became a stranger to you. You don’t recognize the person you’ve come to know.

“Harry? I thought you couldn’t take me driving today?” you asked one evening as he stands on your doorstep with slumped shoulders and a nervous gaze. You’d texted him earlier about driving around the area and his answer was short, but not out of the ordinary for him.

Now, staring at him, something was clearly wrong and he looked like he would rather be anywhere than in front of you on your porch. “Is everything alright?”

He lets out a nervous breath and bites the inside of his cheek. You open the door wide enough for him to step inside. He rings his fingers together. “Sorry, I should’ve called,” he said, his eyes roam around the foyer of your apartment.

Your brows knit together. He’s acting strange. He shows up unannounced all the time and it’s never bothered you before. You’re friends and slowly testing the waters to be something more.

“Harry, what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

The silence is deafening and it sends a chill down your spine. He looks down at the floor and the lump in your throat grows. You fight back tears. You know exactly what the silence means. He’s having second thoughts about pursuing a relationship with you. Your worst fear is coming true.

“You’re having second thoughts about our relationship, aren’t you?”

Harry swallows hard, nodding slowly. “Sort of. I don’t regret it, and I still very much have feelings for you, but I’ve had time to think. I just don’t think it would be fair to start our relationship right now. I don’t want to distract you from what’s important to you and I have the press tour coming up as well as my tour. I want you to be happy and you won’t see me for months at a time.”

You don’t really know what to say. You want to scream and shout at him. None of that mattered before the two of you kissed. He would see you whenever his schedule allowed and you traveled to see him whenever you could. He was your best friend and you made an effort to make your friendship the way it is.

You’re used to the distance. You’re used to the texts, phone calls, and FaceTiming him. It’s how you stay in touch when you’re thousands of miles apart. Why would it be any different now that you’re together?

You try not to cry. It’s such a piss poor excuse to end things between the two of you. After all you’ve been through together, he’s ending it because he’s scared.

“Are you kidding me, Harry? You’re ending whatever this is because you’re scared? I made the choice to kiss you that night. You made the choice to kiss me back. You’re my best friend. I don’t care about the distance. I want you,” you confessed. A tear falls on your cheek and you turn your head away from him to wipe it away.

Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry. You deserve better. You deserve stability and I can’t give you that, at least not right now.”

You let out a shaky breath to try and mask the sob creeping up your throat. More tears gather in your eyes and against your better judgement, you let Harry reach for your face. His thumb brushes against the shell of your cheek and you lean into his touch. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and you hold the hand pressed against your cheek.

A few tears fall and he gently wipes them with the pad of his finger. You sniff quietly and come to your senses and pull away from him. You wipe your nose and let out an awkward laugh. You rock back on your heels and nod towards the door.

“You should go.”

He nods slowly and walks towards the door. He opens the door and turns to look at you one more time before he leaves. You look away. He’s seen enough. You can’t let him see you break further. It doesn’t matter if he’s your best friend. He’s breaking your heart.

The door shuts behind him and you gasp for air as you let the tears fall. You grab at your shirt and fall to the floor. You bring your knees to your chest and cry and cry.

You never thought the person you loved and cared for the most in the world would be the one to hurt you. He gave you a bad excuse. Why did he change his mind? Was it something you said or did? Was it because you weren’t an A list celebrity? You were just a small time producer working in your family owned studio.

It was by chance that a friendship blossomed with the rock star Harry Styles. His own music producer called in sick one day and you filled in for him. You had been friends ever since and occasionally helped him with music every now and then when you weren’t busy with other clients. It was one of the reasons why you had yet to get your driver's license. You were too busy to take the time to learn and you lived in the city so you didn’t really see a need to get your license. You could Uber or bum rides from your brother to the office if you had to.

Did you read too much into things? Harry had written a song for and about you. He told you that much. It was sweet and romantic. You kissed him and it was reciprocated. You didn’t trick or trap him into doing something he didn’t want to do. He confessed his feelings and then you kissed some more.

How would things pan out between the two of you now that he’d broken things off? You couldn’t go back to how things were before. You can’t forget the way he kissed you. You can’t just forget and ignore the way he made you feel. Maybe he would, you thought bitterly.

Harry was notorious for sweeping things under the rug and acting like nothing happened. If he doesn’t address it, it didn’t happen. You won’t let him do that to you. It’s cruel and painful. It’s pure torture.

Now, several weeks have passed since Harry showed up at your doorstep and broke your heart. Since then, you’ve put distance between the two of you. You don’t go out of your way to reach out to him and if he sends you a message, you take hours to reply. Your older brother Malcolm has taken Harry’s place as your driving instructor and he doesn’t ask what happened and you appreciate it.

It’s still a sore subject and you go out of your way to avoid Harry when you know he’s scheduled to work in one of the studios. Everyone’s noticed the change in behavior but no one asks questions. You keep your head down and busy yourself with work. It keeps you from dwelling on what could’ve been. You don’t have the time for such things at work.

It’s a different story altogether when you’re at home alone. Everything reminds you of Harry and you feel utterly pathetic. You drown your sorrows into cheap wine and poorly written romcoms. It’s easier than doing something stupid like drunk texting him.

Now, in hindsight you definitely shouldn’t have been drinking on a lonely Tuesday night. You hadn’t planned on finishing the bottle, but you lost track of time and soon enough you were opening wine bottle number two and finishing it just as easily as you did the first. You know better than to come into work with a raging hangover, but you couldn’t call off. You had a scheduled client that had been on the books for weeks.

Stumbling into the building, you push your sunglasses up the bridge of your noise and trudge to your office. You turn the lights on and close the curtains. Collapsing into your chair, you groan loudly and pull your water bottle out of your work bag and take a long sip.

There’s a gentle knock on the door and you look at your brother through your sunglasses. He laughs softly and steps inside, shutting the door behind him before taking the seat in front of your desk. He leans back into the seat and playfully kicks his feet up on your office table.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls upon the room and Malcolm drinks his coffee slowly. “Can I ask what happened between you and Harry? Wasn’t he teaching you how to drive?”

The question makes your heart drop deep inside your chest. You figured that Malcolm knew that something had happened between you and Harry. You were never in the office when Harry stopped by. Malcolm knew that you were close with Harry, but he didn’t know the extent of your relationship.

You were still figuring out what to label what the two of you were when Harry broke things off. It was still hush hush and kept between the two of you. Nothing fundamentally changed your relationship with each other. All your friends and family as well as his knew that the two of you were incredibly close. No one would’ve known you were seeing each other.

You let out a deep sigh. You tell him everything. You tell him about the song he wrote for you. You tell him how you kissed. You tell him how you’d been seeing each other, going on dates, and acting as everything was normal for the last few months. You tell him how Harry came to your apartment unannounced one day and completely broke your heart just several weeks earlier.

It’s hard to get through and tell him everything with tears gathering behind the sunglasses on your face. Another wave of silence fills the room and Malcolm sits up in the chair and reaches across the table for your hands. He squeezes your hands firmly and you force a smile on your face.

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that,” he said. “When you’ve sobered up, let’s take you to the DMV. I don’t want this rite of passage to be tainted with bad memories. It’s about time you get your license. Your car definitely has a thick layer of dust on it.”

You laugh loudly and pull the sunglasses from your face. You wipe away the last of your tears and nod slowly. Malcolm smiles gently and it makes you feel better almost immediately. You could always count on him to make you feel better about a shitty situation you’re going through.

Several more days pass and you are finally a licensed driver. You feel like you’re on a runners high. Now you understand why Harry and the rest of your friends enjoy driving so much. You feel free driving along the coast as the sun sets every evening. It’s made you much happier in recent days.

At least it did.

It was only a matter of time before something ruined your mood. It had been touch and go in the last few days. You could breathe a little easier knowing that Malcolm knew why you were acting and behaving out of the ordinary. He understood. He’s had his fair share of heartbreaks. You don’t have to bottle it in, not when Malcolm knows and doesn’t judge you for it.

When you come to work several mornings after your trip to the DMV, you’re met with odd looks as you walk towards your office. All eyes are on you and it makes your heart drop.

What happened? Was it your dad? Was it Malcolm?

You hurry into your office and throw your things down and barely register that Malcolm is already in your office. You practically jump out of your skin as he shuts the door behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Malcolm!” you screamed, spinning around and clutching your chest. Your heart races and leaps into your throat. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Malcolm stares at you and frowns apologetically. His face is somber and his posture is rigged. He motions for you to sit down.

“You should sit down.”

You stare at him carefully. You cross your arms over your chest. “What’s going on?”

“Please sit, and then I’ll tell you.”

You huff and roll your eyes at your older brother. You collapse into your chair and motion for him to continue. He lets out a careful breath. “There’s no easy way to say this, and you were going to find out eventually, but somehow TMZ got a hold of private photos of you and Harry together.”

Confusion washes over you. You don’t understand. That doesn’t seem too bad. There’s plenty of photos of the two of you on the internet. It’s an occupational hazard and it’s expected if you’re friends with someone like Harry.

“That doesn’t seem so bad. There’s plenty of photos of us together on the internet. Being photographed together isn’t a crime. We’re close,” you reasoned.

Malcolm noticeably winces and your heart drops inside your chest. “Normally, I would agree, but these are…. different. They’re photos of the two of you kissing at Griffith Observatory.”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh shit.

You and Harry had gone on a date to the observatory just a few days after you kissed and confessed your feelings for one another. It was nearing sunset and it was nearly empty of tourists and locals alike.

You were careful not to draw attention towards yourselves. You were having fun and being silly together. You’d been taking photos together and of each other. An elderly couple even offered to take a few photos of the two of you together.

They were incredibly sweet and thankfully had no idea who Harry was. One of the photos they took was your lockscreen for the longest time. You were happy and full of bliss.

“W-What?” you stuttered in disbelief. “How? That was months ago! We were careful and no one recognized him.”

Malcolm shrugs and it doesn’t make you feel any better. Of course he doesn’t know. “There’s more.”

You groan. Could it get any worse? His fans will destroy you if they haven’t already. You lean back in your chair and Malcolm just stares at you.

“There’s photos of Harry and Olivia Wilde together. He allegedly took her as his plus one to Jeff’s wedding. They’re holding hands and look…. close. There’s rumors that they’ve been dating for the last several weeks.”

A wave of nausea washes over you. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You feel like you’re about to pass out. You feel absolutely disgusted. You don’t know what to say.

You’re hurt and you feel betrayed. Harry had abandoned you when the better option rolled past. His second thoughts about your relationship had nothing to do with the distance or his crazy schedule. It had everything to do with his beautiful, successful co-star and director Olivia Wilde.

It makes you feel sick to your stomach. You’re in no shape to work. You’re a disaster and it feels as if your heart is being stabbed a thousand times.

What happened? What happened to the man you love and who claimed to love you? Someone you love isn't supposed to hurt you the way Harry has. He makes you feel like trash thrown on the side of the road.

You scramble to your feet and hyperventilate as you grab your things from on top of your desk. You race out the door and ignore the stares as you leave the office. You ignore Malcolm shouting after you and climb into your car and take off.

Your grip on the steering wheel is tight and hurts your palms. You ignore how fast you’re going and you drive, and drive, and drive.

Nearly an hour has gone by and you pull off the highway and make the exit towards Newport Beach. You park in an empty lot near the public beach and stare out into the ocean.

You scream in the car. Your hands shake the steering wheel and you cry, and cry, and cry. You feel pathetic and used. How could you ever believe that Harry would ever want to be with someone like you? You’re practically a nobody. It doesn’t matter that your family is in the music industry. You’re not a pop star or an extremely talented director.

Your hands shake and you reach for the tiny, beat up journal tucked away in the bottom of your work bag. You open the door to your car and pop open the trunk. You grab the blanket from the back before locking up and trek up towards the shore.

You sit down in the warm sand and close your eyes. Your shoulders relax as you listen to the crashing waves nearby.

Another wave of tears find their way at the corners of your eyes. This time you don’t try to hold them back.

Your shoulders shake as you cry and you feel utterly defeated. You’ve given Harry way too much power over you. He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t deserve to be treated like someone that can be taken and put back on to a shelf.

You open your journal to a clean page and begin to write. Memories with Harry come to mind and you write, write, write.

“I can’t believe you’re working on Olivia Wilde’s new movie,” you told Harry in awe on the day he broke the news to you. “I mean, I can. It’s just amazing! Just promise me you won’t leave me for your sexy co-star,” you teased.

Harry laughs and kisses the top of your forehead. He gives you a warm and soft kiss to your mouth. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” he whispered. “I’m crazy for you.”

You grin at him and he pulls you closer in the soft sheets of his bed. His touch engulfs you and you sink deeper and deeper into him.

Tears dampen the journal as you write and cry, write and cry. You look away briefly, rubbing at your cheek, ridding it of your tears.

What happened? What went wrong? You loved him with your entire being. Why wasn’t that enough? Why weren’t you enough?

A broken sigh leaves your lips and you turn back to your journal. You write some more. This time, a memory from before the two of you kissed comes to mind.

The two of you sat on top of the hood of his car. The beach is nearly empty as it nears sunset. You eat ice cream and watch the waves crash against the shore. Harry nudges you playfully as takes a spoonful of his strawberry and banana blizzard.

“I think it’s about time you learn how to drive,” he said with a mouthful of food.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Of course he’d say that. He’s probably sick of being your personal chauffeur and taking you everywhere. You guess it’s time to learn.

“Yeah? Is this your way of telling me that you’re sick of driving me everywhere?” you teased.

He rolled his eyes too and smiled. It made your stomach jump. “Nooooo. I just want you to drive up to my house once in a while. Is that so bad?”

“I guess not. Who do you suggest I should ask to be my teacher?”

You were teasing him. You just wanted to get a rise out of him and it worked. He gasps and shoves you gently. You laughed and he frowned at you.

“If I haven’t made it obvious, I’m teaching you. God knows what’ll happen if you get behind the wheel with anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. That fucker. He knows exactly what to say to get you to take the bait. You scoffed and finished the rest of your ice cream and Harry does the same.

“I’ll teach you in the parking lot for now.”

By the time you’re done writing, you’ve filled nearly five pages in your journal. Words are scribbled out, phrases reworked and rephrased, lines scratched through a number of stanzas.

It’s painful. It’s sorrow. It’s complete and utter heartbreak. It’s vulnerable and raw. It’s what’s become of your relationship with Harry. It’s beautiful.

You stopped crying a while ago. The remains of your tears stain your cheeks and it doesn’t bother you. You gather your things together and return to your car.

This time as you sit in your car and grab the steering wheel, you don’t scream pathetically or shake the wheel. Instead, you look out at shore, the ache in your heart reduced to a dull throb in your chest.

When you return to the office several days later, you ignore the sea of eyes that follow behind you as you trudge to Malcolm’s office. You’re on a mission and you will see it through.

The door to his office is closed and you quickly push it open. “Hey, Malcolm, I wrote something and I want you to—”

You don’t know what you expected when you opened his office door without knocking. He’s told you countless times to knock before entering, but you’ve never listened. You should probably knock now.

Jeff sits in the chair closest to the door. He turns his head to look at you. He gives a courteous smile. Your heart drops inside your stomach and you slowly close the door.

“What’s going on?”

“I think it’s best if you sit down,” Malcolm said, motioning to the empty seat next to Jeff.

“I think I’m good standing right here,” you replied defiantly, resting your back against the door. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the two men in front of you. They share a glance before Malcolm looks back at you.

“Jeff and I were just discussing our options on how to handle the PR situation going on with you and Harry.”

You let out a bitter laugh. Since when has any PR stunts ever been handled by Harry or his team? They’re notorious for ignoring it altogether. It’s a part of his brand. His fans even know that he sweeps things under the rug. Why would they want to handle it? Any PR is good PR, according to Jeff at least.

“Since when did you start caring about bad PR, Jeff? It is because I’m a nobody in an industry that only cares about the elite? Or is it because Harry being seen with someone who isn’t a celebrity is bad for his brand?” you asked sarcastically with an eye roll.

You feel a wave of tears threaten to fall at the corners of your eyes. Your chin quivers and you bite the inside of your cheek. Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. You’re done crying over Harry.

“Y/n, that’s not true. He’s in the middle of filming and we’ve carefully made it seem like he’s with Olivia Wilde. It’s to help promote the movie,” Jeff defended.

You click your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Right, because everything’s about Harry and what’s best for him. Do whatever the fuck you want, just leave me out of it and don’t talk to me again.”

You leave his office and ignore the stares as you leave the building. You can’t be here, not when Jeff is just feet away from you. You’re sad, angry, and hurt. You just want to punch something.

You return to your car and scream in frustration the moment the door shuts. Harry didn’t even come to fix the situation himself. Instead he sent his manager to do all the dirty work for him. He still hasn’t said sorry for the hurt and pain he put you through. You doubt he’d even apologize for the hell you’ll get from his fans.

You drive home and change out of your work attire into comfy pajamas. You settle in front of your piano and mess around with the soundboard nearby that’s connected to your computer before pressing the record button.

It goes on like this for hours. You splice the instruments together, fixing and editing the tempo, sound, and bass here and there. It’s a tedious process, but one you love. You carefully place the headphones over your ears and swallow hard before you begin singing the lyrics on the main track. After you add a variety of harmonies and melodies to give the song more depth.

Then it’s over. The song’s finished and recorded. It’s perfect. It’s everything you imagined it would be when you wrote the lyrics on the beach. It’s vulnerable, but it’s beautiful and it’s you. You didn’t need Malcom’s help to produce the song. You did it all on your own, like always.

You lean back into your chair and stare at the computer file. You couldn’t publish it. It won’t see the light of day. You’re not meant to be singing the songs you write. You’re meant to share and produce them for artists that are infinitely more talented than you. Maybe you could sell the rights to someone like Billie Eilish or Ariana Grande. They could do the song justice.

No. It’s too vulnerable, too you. It’s only meant to be sung by you. It’s yours, no one else’s. You don’t need a second opinion. If things were still good between you and Harry, he would encourage you to release the song.

Maybe that’s why you set up your camera and took photos to create your own album art for the song. Maybe that’s why you watched the file slowly render in Apple Music, ITunes, and Spotify. You hover over the publish tab.

You hesitate. There’s no going back. Once it’s uploaded, there’s no way to delete it. The song is out there forever. People will link it to Harry in a matter of minutes, that much is obvious, but you don’t care. You’re doing this for you and no one else. If Harry could write songs about his exes, so could you.

You click publish, and exhale deeply as the song appears in the system.

There’s no going back.