#in conclusion anon: i agree

[inkykeiji]

~Sukuna~ That is all.

he is literally so big and so sexy and i need all four of his fists shoved down my throat immediately

[shalom-iamcominghome]

Hey, same anon, the 'if you do believe in the religion' wasn't meant to be a dig, and I apologise sincerely that it came across as such.

I use with both converts, nonconverts, and non-jews as a sort of.... implicit cover? I guess, for semi in-depth theological or practical statements.

Because often online people positing questions or statements don't necessarly actually *believe* in Judaism, so I clarify that my answer is within the framework of one who does believe, but if they don't then the logic won't apply.

But I see that it would come off as dismissive to one in the process of converting, so I will be mindful of that in the future.

(I am also sorry for misinterpreting the initial post, I really need to stop pissing on the poor)

I'm definitely not angry, to be clear, and I want to make sure you know that. There aren't any ill feelings, I sometimes just talk about an issue without really directing it anywhere in particular, and I wanted to mention it just to expand on what exactly it is that I believe in the framework of conversion.

There are many, many interpretations of the ideas of permanent body modification, and even without having tattoos, I'm transitioning which is seen as body modification to others even if I don't agree fully with that categorization. It's a pretty sticky situation when things like permanent body modifications have genuinely saved my life, and that is the reason I generally think that body modification done out of respect for the body you're given is a much more reasonable position for myself personally. In that way, I might have to cut my losses and fulfill different obligations (because there are already many obligations in judaism I cannot fulfill, even if I want to, and I feel the best way to combat that reality is to accept as many obligations as I can and ones that I can do). I feel like explaining this might be helpful, and I didn't beforehand just because I didn't really know how to exactly address the issue.

[twopoppies]

.

[revvethasmythh]

i finally cracked and spent like half an hour tracking down that post you keep referencing because i had NO IDEA what you were talking about and i found it and........ my analysis is that its written by someone who really wanted their relationship to Be A Certain Way and projected that onto them and the depth and reveal of veth shattered that and created that very simplistic analysis. its coming from a place where nott and caleb were their one and only's, no question who each other's #1 Person was, but like OBVIOUSLY a husband and son interrupt that. and caleb was A priority for veth rather than The priority for nott.

which completely ignores her struggle to balance her radically different lives and caleb's constant compassion and struggle to protect her AND her family...... because he loves her so he loves them and became an integral part of their lives too...... idk it just struck me as coming from a very particular place

Oh anon, you should have spared yourself and just not looked it up. I don't want to harangue about the post too much because I did plenty of that last year (sorry I can't direct you to those posts, they're old and none of them were searchably tagged so it'd be a bitch and a half to find them), but like yeah I do think the take came from A Particular Place and that there's a lot of projection happening there, I agree with that. It's just that the post is basically only projection, and the place it comes from overlaps with the land of delusion where we never watched the show past episode 47, but yeah, that is A Place and apparently 1.5k other people have also visited this Place, which is one of my least favorite things I am burdened with knowing about.

Like, it's the gall to say that Caleb was looking at Veth and thinking "maybe she's as weird as I am" and things like that that get me because it's such a staggeringly ahistorical take, particularly considering Veth's backstory hinges on the fact that she was bullied her whole life for being WEIRD. And I recently happened upon a clip from the Talks for episode 50 where Liam was answering a question about how Caleb was taking the Veth reveal and his answer essentially boiled down to [paraphrased], "Caleb already loved Nott and thought they were similar--but now he knows they're even more alike than he could have guessed. And he loves her. He just loves her."

The idea that the Veth reveal shattered all of Caleb's visions and dreams of what their relationship was now that he knows who Nott "really" is (a "Happily Married Straight Woman" as OP so helpfully describes, in contrast to Caleb's newly listless and unmoored "Queer Neurodivergent Friend") is so ahistorical I need to go to a rage room about it. That did not happen. I have to believe the only way someone could agree with this is if they never watched past ep. 47, but considering how many people interacted positively with that post, I somewhat doubt that's the case, which makes it, like, the prime example of how Veth (a relatively unpopular character) seems to be thought of--and misinterpreted--by the wider fandom. And, in the words of Liam O'Brien himself: "That's a big matzo ball."

[elfdyke]

I 100% agree with your take about problematic women being ok. But on reflection it could possibly be not inherently their fault at first glance for having that bad take. The media we consume plays a big role in what we see every day. Almost every media website has algorithms of some kind to push content on people. Their is plenty of wholesome good lesbian content, there's so much in the media about it because as you said its catered to be more palatable. My working theory is that perhaps they were shown something akin to " toxic Yuri " and then fell down the media rabbit hole of consuming and looking at content for it. Which the algorithms picked up and went " let's shovel more of this content onto them " which resulted in most of their feeds reflecting that. Similar to doom scrolling. I am in no way defending their take btw because it is trash in my opinion. But people really need to learn to just block content they don't like and move on with their lives instead of shouting online. Go outside, touch some grass, look up wholesome content if thats what your into lol.

I MEAN YEAH this can happen but yeah like. at the end of the day you really do need to log off and reflect on the opinions you hold and the background behind certain social 'movements' or whatever. i wouldnt like jump this person or anything i just think they are coming at the topic without any nuance of the history of why we are where we are and how tolerating and even celebrating morally complex female relationships/characters is actually a step in the right direction

[schrodingersbobby]

.

[thelasttime]

Seems like she’s at least stopped showing him off because she now knows we hate him. Still sad she thinks being with him at all is okay.

y'all know how i feel about him so please keep that in mind as i answer this ask:

i genuinely don't think we can draw any actual conclusions on why he's not at the gillette shows. whether it's because he has a show soon, he's been left, he has the sniffles, or he just straight-up didn't want to go - we genuinely have no idea !!

[tender-rosiey]

hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D

true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH

the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.

meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.

the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.

you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.

though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.

“no.”

“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”

“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.

you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”

he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”

“yay!”

you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”

one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”

the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”

you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”

the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”

“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”

they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”

the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?

they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.

you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.

you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.

the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.

you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.

sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.

for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.

you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.

it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.

you frowned, “that is my spot.”

he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”

“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”

at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”

“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”

a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.

he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.

he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”

you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”

that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.

he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.

instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.

the door finally opens, and it reveals you.

sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.

what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.

you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.

he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”

he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”

instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”

amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”

“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.

“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.

they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.

he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”

in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.

the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.

you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.

you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.

he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.

he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.

his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.

“sukuna, my name…?”

he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”

you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”

“and I am not usual, am I?”

you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”

you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.

the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.

you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.

you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.

“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.

he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”

“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”

you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.

the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.

uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”

vows? sukuna prepared vows?

tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”

okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.

but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”

he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.

—

“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.

you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”

“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”

they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.

you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.

“high, my lord.”

you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”

he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.

it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.

with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.

“ooo, red wine!”

“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”

after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”

he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”

“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.

he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”

“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”

“I don’t care!”

“oh?”

you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.

you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.

he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”

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[leqonsluv3r]

hiii!! May i ask for a first date with Leon with a fem reader? Thanks!

bed chem

—re!4 leon kennedy x fem!reader

—a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, some swearing, readers ex being a dick, leon charming it up on the first date, sweet but passionate seggsy time bc i say so, unprotected pnv, nicknames; baby, sweet girl, honey, heavy making out on the first date (it happens), reader being a horny mess over leon (relatable honestly), and a bunch of other shit.

“she had been weighing the pros and cons of doing this for the past three days. it was the nerves of getting back out there after being in a shitty relationship, that were getting to her. she wanted to move on from that. but still…was this the best idea? she couldn’t just forget about her ex? right? she needed to but something — maybe anxiety — was clawing at her guts. she sat in the restaurant again that they were supposed to meet at, a blind date of all things. she was never this…bold. never this much of a risk taker. but she needed this, she cant remember the last time she had — “is this seat taken?” she is snapped out of her thoughts as she looks up and sees the most handsome man she’s probably ever laid eyes on. her ex boyfriend didn’t even compare by a long shot. she looked at him like a gaped fish, “uhm…no…it’s not…” she blubbers out. she was in for it.”

— or reader meets leon on a blind date and thinks maybe her ex breaking up with her wasn’t such a bad thing

masterlist taglist prompt game

an: i’m sorry this took me so long to get up. hope this is what you had in mind, anon.🩷🩷

she didn’t think this was a good idea.

not in the slightest, she had been single for only three months. she wasn’t waiting to long right? no, she wasn’t. she could do this.

even if her gut was screaming at her to do something differently, to run out of this restaurant and away from her blind date that was setup.

she wanted to run.

she stared at her wineglass of water, taking a small sip of it. she sighs softly, looking at her phone. he was five minutes late. did she get stood up? did he see her then turn around and leave? she swallowed and tried to not jump to conclusions. that probably wasn’t the case.

she hated that she was back to square one, if only her ex hadn’t dumped her right before christmas. she felt like she was stuck, having dated her ex for two years, she felt so out of the game with flirting. she was just going on this date to humor her friends, they said she was moping, said she needed to stop eating ice cream in her sweats on friday nights.

she had to agree, she needed to start going on dates…but blind ones? set up by her friends? not the smartest idea.

but they had told her to trust them. so she was, even though she felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

she couldn’t do this, she was going to get up and leave, go right back to her apartment and —

“is this seat taken?” she hears a voice drawl from behind her shoulder. she swallowed, her insides melting like jello just at the four simple words this man had uttered. she tries to find words as he quickly rounds the table and sits down opposite from her. it’s like her eyes and brain are working faster then her mouth is, taking him all in. he was so beautiful, so…god, she didn’t even have a word for what he was.

she finally found some words and opened her mouth, “uhh, your…uhh…” she takes a deep breath and tries again, “your my blind date?” she finds herself saying. it came out more quiet and feeble then she would’ve liked but in this mans presence she’s lucky she wasn’t a puddle on the floor already.

he nods with a small subtle quirk of his lips, “leon kennedy.” he says as he grabs the menu, his eyes scanning over her for a quick second then averting to the specials on the sheet in front of him. she ducked her head down to look at her own menu, trying to seem focused on it when in hindsight, she wanted to ask where the cameras were. she was obviously being pranked. right?

she looks up from her menu and chances a look at leon again, she smiles softly and nervously when he catches her stare. he puts his menu down slowly against the table and looks at her. “are you going to tell me your name?” he says with a small teasing brow raise. she chuckles softly, averting her eyes and then looking back at him before saying her name softly. he hums in acknowledgment, his lips quirking up again. “cute name.”

jesus, fuck the dinner. she could just jump his bones right now.

the waiter doesn’t giver her a chance though and comes by to take their orders for drinks and appetizers. leon looks back at her, his blue eyes burning deeply into her soul as if trying to read her from across the table. “so why are you not on the dating apps?” is the first question he asks her. she blinks at him dumbly for a moment, trying to process his question. “uhm…i just got out of a relationship in december. i didn’t really feel like joining when all guys on there are all looking for the same thing.” she manages to say with a surprisingly confident tone.

he nods slowly as if understanding, “i get it.’ he says as he sips on his own glass of water. “so your not like a commitment-phobe or anything?” he says as he looks at her, folding his hands on the table. she chuckles and shakes her head, her eyes briefly darting down to his hands on the table and then back up to him. “no, i’m the opposite. me and my ex were together for two years.”

he shakes his head, “must’ve been an idiot to let someone as beautiful as you go.”

she feels her cheeks heat up a little under the dim lighting of the restaurant, “he just…wasn’t feeling it anymore.” she says with a small nervous smile, “it happens.” he scoffs and his blue eyes darken for a second. “if he was really for you, sweetheart, trust me. he wouldn’t just stop feeling it.” he says with a small grimace. almost looking in pain for her, like he hated what he was hearing.

“why are you on a blind date then?” she says softly to him, trying to desperately change the subject. he sighs and leans back in his chair a little, looking at her, “i’m sick of bouncing around.” he says as he looks at her, his tone less teasing and more serious. “going from girl to girl…its not what i want. im not happy that way.” he says with a small glance at her.

she nods slowly in understanding as he talked, acknowledging his words. the waiter came and sat their drinks down in front of them, putting a brief pause on the conversation. his drink — a whiskey on the rocks, hers — a simple dr pepper. he notices the lack of alcohol but decides to wait until the waiter is done taking their orders. once, the waiter walks away, he nods towards her soda, “a dr pepper? no alcohol?” he says with another raise of his eyebrow.

“i doin’t like drinking on the first date.” she says as she looks at him then his drink, “you obviously don’t mind that.” her tone and edge of sarcasm as she sips on her drink pepper again. he chuckles lowly and shakes his head, his ash blonde hair moving with him, “giving me shit now for my drink choice?”

“yeah, you gave me shit for mine. don’t think i didn’t notice.” she says as she sits back a little in her own seat across from him, crossing her legs beneath the table.

they continue talking for hours, eating their food and sipping on their drinks as they talk. this was going better then she had planned, learning more about leon then she intended. he didn’t seem like the talkative type but when they started discussing jobs, past pets, family, really anything. he seemed to open up and tell her pretty much whatever she wanted to know.

after they finished eating, she went to order dessert but he stopped her. “i have dessert at my place.’” which made her stop, the rush of butterflies and nerves at his words was enough to make her nod, close the dessert menu and request the check.

which he paid, in full, with…a platinum credit card.

she knew he was working for the government but jesus, he just whipped out the platinum to pay for their meal. she felt measly with her silly little plastic card in her purse, letting him escort her out the restaurant. they walked down the sidewalk until they get to a sleek black escalade. “did you drive here?” he says as he digs his keys out of his jacket pocket. she looks at him and then the car, “yeah, i did.”

“how about…at the risk of sounding too forward, you come home with me? stay the night, you can take the bed if you want and…i’ll drop out back off at your car in the morning?” he says with a small tilt of his head, his blondish hair flopping by his ear as she looks at him. a small smile graced his features, she let out a small breath, turning the thoughts of potentially doing this in her head.

she nodded with a small smile on her face, “i would love too.”

he nods towards the escalade, “cmon,” he unlocks the escalade and opens the passenger door for her. she hesitantly moves forward and slides into the passenger seat, looking around the interior of the car. she was in awe, shed never been in a car this…big before. also, it made her wonder.

leon wasn’t flaunting his wealth, he didn’t even seem to mind that he was somewhat wealthy. it made her have even more questions about him. they didn’t seem to end the more she spent time with him. was he not aware of how fortunate he was?

she was torn away from her thoughts when leon got into the drivers side of the car. looking over at her with a small smirk, “what?”

“you drive an escalade.” she states with a small blink, he shrugs and chuckles a little, almost finding it humorous. “so?”

he doesn’t realize this does he? good god, he’s a humble guy. why is that such a fucking turn on?

“it’s just…the escalade, the platinum card…?” she says with a small blubber as she looks at him, “your rich.” she states with little to no care for how it sounded. he chuckles and shakes his head, “yeah? im not too bad, i’ve got money.” he says with a small flush of his cheeks as he puts the keys in the ignition. she rolls her eyes, of course he’s not going to admit it.

he starts the car, carefully pulling out of the parking spot. she swallows as she watches his hands from the passenger seat, the way his large hands encompass the steering wheel and turn it. she’s watching, almost drooling at how his veins in his hands. she sees him look over at her and she quickly darts her eyes away from basically eye-fucking his hands.

they were just…fuck, the things she would let those hands do to her.

he smirks in her peripheral vision, sliding one of his hands over the console and to the exposed knee of her dress, slowly squeezing it. she swallows, the touch was somewhat innocent but causing a herd of butterflies to swarm her stomach. she felt her underwear get uncomfortable already. she lets out a small shaky exhale, trying to act nonchalant.

she was so fucked.

she surprisingly made it back to his apartment in one piece. he was acting like a gentleman, even with his hand on her knee, keeping a steady hold on it as he drove. he didn’t raise his hand higher, a part of her wished he would’ve.

but he kept it on her knee, his whole hand practically engulfed that skin on her leg. she watched him drive out of the corner of her eye, studying him like a painting.

he was so gorgeous, even in the dim light of the streetlights. she was fully focused on him, his eyelashes, the way his eyes carefully and precisely watched the road.

the way he kept his lips — pink and full — pressed together as he studied every other car around them. he wasn’t afraid, he was focused. she wondered if he always focused on things like this, or if he was just like this when he drove.

but his attention seemed divided, one hand on her leg, his thumb even moving in small circles on her knee. she didn’t know how he did it all at once, all with ease. it was like he was handcrafted by some god, some amazing grace. she just couldn’t figure him out.

but it intrigued her.

even when he made it to his apartment, parking outside the building and pulling the keys out of the escalades ignition.

he moved with such precision and confidence, like he knew his next move before he made it. like he had a plan for every step he took. she wishes that she had that grace about her, she was clumsy and not put together at all.

but when they get out of the car, making their way to the doors of the lobby, he was holding onto her hand tightly. his hand engulfing hers as they walked. she liked the way his hand fit into hers, like it belonged that way. like it was meant to hold hers. she tries to fight the butterflies and the very obvious tension as they make their way to the elevator in the lobby.

once the elevator dings and they make their way into the elevator, she feels hotter, like the sexual tension of what’s to come is taking up all the air. she squeezes his hand a little, she feels his blue irises travel to her and stay there. he must’ve lived on the top floor, because they stood there for a moment. his free hand traveling up to her hair, pushing it away from her face.

“there’s those beautiful eyes.” he whispers, it sounded like he was saying it more to himself rather then her. her cheeks flushed all the same, connecting her own with his, a small smile sliding onto her lips. “i have beautiful eyes?” she whispers to him, almost afraid to break the spell, the tension that was slowly building as they got closer to his apartment.

he smirks slowly to himself, saying a little louder, “your eyes aren’t the only beautiful thing about you.” he says as he pushes more hair away from her face with his free hand, sliding his hand into her hair and holding it there. a small breath leaving her lips, letting them part as she looked up at him from under her eyelashes. this man was something else, making her act out on the first date. which she never did.

“look at you,” he whispers, “such a good girl, you look so pretty.” he praises lowly, still holding her hair at the base of her skull in a tight fist. he was forcing her to look up at him, she didn’t even hate how her underwear flooded with need for him — for his hands. she just accepts the praise with a small embarrassed smile. she didn’t know how else to react, no guy had ever praised her so openly, called her beautiful.

her ex, he took her out on dates and the sex wasn’t too bad. but he never showed her off, loved her openly, made her feel special. that was the ultimate lead up to him leaving her for some girl he didn’t even know.

and it broke her, she never thought she’d feel that way again.

but here, with leon, she felt that familiar want. that need to be his and his only.

and god, was it terrifying. he was such a good guy, so attractive. she was so afraid that she’d screw it up in some way.

but it’s better to say she tried and failed rather then give up altogether.

the elevator dinger for his floor, pulling her out of her thoughts and snapping her eyes back up to his. she felt his h=free hand slowly leave her hair and his hand with hers, pulling on it towards the hallway outside the elevator. her stomach was a mess of knots and nerves as she followed him. her eyes taking in the surroundings around her, letting him practically drag her to his apartment.

and as soon as she was inside of his apartment, his lips were on hers and she was getting pushed up against a door. the first thing she registers is how amazing his lips are and how they feel against hers. she feels like her legs are going to give out under her, her lips meld with his. everything is happening so fast and her brain doesn’t have time to catch up to all of it.

before she knows it, he’s carrying her into his apartment, kissing every inch of her neck and jaw with his tongue and teeth. she lets out small sounds as he kisses her in spots that haven’t been touched in months. he puts her down onto the bed, hovering over her as his blue eyes meet hers. he looks so haunting in the moonlight. his sharp jawline and features, the way his cheekbones reflect in the moonlight thats streaming through the window.

“i normally don’t do this on the first date but your just…” he runs his fingers over the side of her thigh, making her dress pool up to her hips, “so fucking beautiful.” he whispers between them, like its a secret. she feels her cheeks flush nonetheless. she feels his hand slide up her thigh to the edge of her underwear, lace that she put on and didn’t even anticipate this happening. she feels her breath quicken and her spine straighten under his touch.

he’s so methodical with his movements and it makes her think, the contrast difference between her ex and him. he’s so gentle, like she’s made of glass beneath his fingertips. her ex never had that, rough and demanding movements. she draws the difference as leon’s fingers slowly pull the lacy fabric down her thighs. she keeps wondering why his fingers and hands seem so calloused, she should have asked earlier at dinner, not when he’s exposing her to the cool air of his bedroom.

she exhales as her lacy underwear are tossed to the floor, suddenly his jacket is coming off and he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. she can only let her eyes trace the way his biceps are practically straining underneath the confines of his dress shirt, the way they flex when he grabs her ankles and drags her to the end of his bed. she feels her heart beat almost entirely out of her chest.

she can’t help it, she’s a soaking mess by now and the fact he can see that by looking in between her thighs is enough to make her cheeks heat up. she closes her thighs, pressing them together. he chuckles low in his throat as he looks down at her, “don’t hide from me. cmon.” he says as his blue eyes seem to darken under the harsh moonlight coming into his bedroom.

he gently opens her thighs, letting himself glance at her glistening arousal. “so wet already?” he says it as if its more of a statement, rather than a question. she nods under his gaze as if he has all the power over her right now and in a way, he does. and he knows it. “this all for me?” he says with an almost haunting smirk on his features that it causes her to sharply inhale. she nods again and feels her chest rise and fall beneath her dress.

“your boosting my ego too much, baby.” he says as he crawls over her, his hands bracing on either side of her head, he leans down so he’s nose to nose with her. his blue eyes almost blown out with lust for her, she recalls never being looked at this way by her ex. even when they had sex, he refused the intimate side and made her go face down in the pillows. but leon, he’s devouring her with his eyes right now and it almost makes her cry, but she doesn’t.

“what’s wrong? did i do something wrong?” he asks when he sees her eyes become glassy, surely he knows. he has a feeling that he maybe rushed it. should’ve let you go home after the date but…you looked sad. he cups her chin, looking down into her eyes. that action seems to make it harder for her to speak but she forces words out of her mouth. “my ex…he never…” she swallows more tears down her throat.

he watches her expression so closely — so methodically — that he’s afraid if he blinks, he’ll miss something. but he lets her speak, his hand slowly cupping her cheek, rubbing his thumb over cheek in a soothing gesture. even though he’s hard as steel right now and her pussy is out in the open, he is solely focused on how she feels right now. she notes in her brain that this is another reason why she likes leon so much already.

but she forces herself to finish her thoughts, “my ex never…he never…” she chokes on the words again. she realizes that it sounds stupid coming out of her mouth now, she almost wants to push it to the side and jump leon’s bones. but he’s not going to let it go until he knows she’s okay. “he never looked me in the eye, never…he wasn’t gentle.” she whispers as she looks up at him. she feels choked up and she hates how silly she sounds. like a hurt little girl who skinned her knee.

he sighs softly against her lips and brushes some tears from the crevice of her eye. he understands what she’s saying, her ex wasn’t intimate. didn’t take his time with her, didn’t put her needs first and that just doesn’t sit right with him one bit. in fact, it bothers him beyond recognition. how could someone just abandon their partners needs, the need to be validated and be intimate? he couldn’t change that for her but he could show her that he wasn’t like her exes.

“im not like that, princess. you know that by now don’t you?” he whispers against her lips as he gently brushes some hair out of her face. she nods almost immediately, “i know.” she says against his lips, solidifying that she knows. he could not even be compared to her ex, not even close. leon was far better than him and she’s only known leon for like five hours.

“good. now, im going to fuck you now. but listen,” he gently grabs her chin, a firm but soft hold as he angles her eyes to his. “i am going to take my time with you because you deserve that. you deserve to be loved and cherished.” he says softly with a small hint of compassion in his blue irises as he strokes his hand up and down her dress clad side. “and i am not going to let you look away, your going to look at me the entire time.” he says with a firm but rugged gentleness that suited him down to his very core.

she just nods slowly in his grip, that being the only thing she can do with his grip on her chin. he smiles — a little twitch of his lips — making him seem ten times more softer then he actually is. he leans back on the bed on his knees, looking down at her. “off.” he gestures to the dress thats still covering her. she swallows and sits up on his bed, slowly and methodically shimming the dress off of her frame.

once it’s gone and on the floor with her discarded lace underwear, she plays with the strap on her matching bra. he puts his large and calloused hand over hers, stopping her. “let me.” he mutters as he moved on his bed behind her, his fingers slowly tracing along her shoulder and going to the bra strap. he hovers his mouth over neck, his other hand brushing her hair away from her back, pressing his lips to her neck with such delicacy. she feels like she would miss it if she couldn’t feel his fingers slide down to the clasp of her lacy bra.

and once it’s discarded, he finds himself hoisting her backwards onto the mattress again. his lips finding hers in a sweet but delicate kiss that says — i have you, trust me. and she does, she finds herself trusting him as his hands hold her gently but firmly, a strong hold that weighs on her heart and mind.

she looks up at him through lustful eyes two moments later, her gaze locking on his as he strips off his pants and shirt, discarding them all on the floor. the body of a greek god, yet littered with small scars that catch in the moonlight. she thinks that maybe he has his own demons, the ones that haunt him when he goes to bed at night.

but she doesn’t have time to wonder, his cock, if not perfect like the rest of him. is now out, his hand slowly stroking the hard shaft for some semblance of relief. she gnaws on her bottom lip as she watches him, she was completely and utterly soaked now.

she didn’t know how much longer she could last. she needed him.

he didn’t wait long to lean over her body, his elbows on either side of her head, much like before. his nose brushing against hers and she was bare as him. it should’ve made her nervous, made her scared beyond anything. but she didn’t have it in her to be scared, not when he was eyeing her like she was the holy grail.

he pressed another kiss to her lips, a little more rough this time, his tongue prodding at her mouth. begging for him to be let in. and how could she not oblige him? she let him in and he swirled his tongue with hers, her brain on autopilot and the conversation about her ex was long gone. the furthest thing from her mind at this point.

it was just him. his mouth and hers, the way his cock barely brushed against her soaked folds. she parted her knees more for him, accommodating his wide frame as he let a hand drift down to her hip, squeezing it as they sloppy made out.

a small moan slipped past her lips and onto his, his large hand kneading the extra fat of her hip and thigh and slowly he moved his hand in between them, brushing over her clit slowly. her breath caught a little and she couldn’t find words, she was wrecked already.

he chuckled lowly against her lips, words not exchanged as he guided his bulbous tip though her folds. soaking his tip in her release and making her tremble, small squeaks of arousal leaving her parted lips.

he found it amusing, if the expression on his face was any indication.

he silenced her again with a smooth press of hiss lips against her’s, soothing her worries and the small amount of anticipation she felt. he slipped just the tip inside of her, breaching her entrance. she gasped against his lips, he was big. it was just the tip and she was keening. practically clawing at his bare back. he pressed his lips more firmly against hers, sliding in another inch, his thumb rubbing circles at her hip.

as he eased in inch by inch, she tried to focus on his kisses rather then how much he was stuffing her full inch by torturous inch. it felt like her body was buzzing, it was too much and not enough at the same time. she moaned softly when he slid in the rest of the way, she opened her mouth against his. she couldn’t handle it anymore. she lets out a shaky breath.

her hands held tighter to his back as he slowly moved his hips against hers. his hand squeezing hard at her hip enough to bruise but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as he slowly moved his hips, moving in and out of her. she bit on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood as his head dipped into her neck. she choked on moan after moan as he groaned and grunted against her neck, matching her noises in his own ways.

she let her nails sink into his back as he pumped his hips a little faster. her head fell back against his sheets, her lips parted, eyes shutting in ecstasy as he started hitting that spot within her repeatedly. she wasn’t going to last long if he kept it up, his harsh groans and breaths echoing along her neck and up into her ear. his lips pressing harshly to the skin. every time her nails dug into his bare back, he bit a little at her skin.

the pleasure and pain was intoxicating as he kept moving his hips, making her whimper and whine. she tried to speak but her words were caught and mumbles of pleasure were the only things to leave her parted lips. her expression wiped and dazed with lust as she took everything he gave her. never in her life had she felt this way with sex. she felt like she was floating and grounded at the same time.

she felt her stomach coil, knowing she was close to climax. she wordlessly moved one of her hands from his back into his dirty blonde locks, pulling his head out of her neck and pressing her lips to his. he just smirked against her lips and moved his hips a little faster, seeming to understand what she meant without words. she moaned louder against his lips as he pumped faster and faster, her head felt dizzy. her head dropped back against his sheets again, not enough energy to keep her lips locked with his.

“thats it baby, come for me. c’mon.” he growls as he nips at her neck, his hand sliding from her hip to her clit. rubbing it with small brushes of his thumb, she squeaked as she looked up at the ceiling. her eyes glazed over as the coil in her belly finally snapped. “fuck, your…squeezing me like a vice.” he muttered in a groan. he felt her spasm around him, his hips slowing as he fucked her through it.

he fucked her through it until she was squirming, he moved his hand off her clit. determined to chase his own release as he moved his hips again. he pressed his chest against hers and gripped her hip again. she let out a shaky gasp as he started moving again. her eyes watering at the overstimulation she was feeling in the moment. “shh, its…i’m close, baby. just hang on.” he grunts against her collarbones as he keeps moving his hips. she squeezed him a little again and he hissed.

she nods with a small whine as he pumps a little faster, practically shaking his bed. she was wondering if it was going to break but it didn’t seem like it would. his hips stuttering as he bit into her collarbone, she gasped in pleasure as she felt his spend fill her up and fill her belly. she blinked at the ceiling as he sighed against her collarbone. letting himself be vulnerable for a moment in the aftermath of their bliss. he just kept her filled with his cock, rubbing a hand up and down her side. his mouth gently pressing a kiss to one of her breasts. “your amazing.” he whispers as his eyes shut and he breathes some air into his lungs.

she felt his words deep down to her very soul as he pulled out of her, a small noise of loss as he removed himself from her snug walls. he laid down on his side next to her, sliding a hand down her stomach and to her entrance again. his spend mixed with hers was leaking out of her abused hole, his finger scooped up the fluid and pushed it back inside of her.

his eyes flaring with that possessive nature. he drifts his blue eyes to her blissed out face. he removes his finger from her entrance and traces it up to her jaw. he gently cups her chin and smoothes his thumb over her bottom lip. “good?” he whispers gruffly as he scans her expression. she smiles dazedly and nods as she looks up at him. it wasn’t how she imagined the night going but getting to here, it was good. leon unintentionally was making her move on from the slump her ex put her in. she couldn’t be more grateful.

he smiles crookedly, almost shyly, as if he didn’t just fuck her raw into his mattress.

“stay the night. i make good breakfast.” he says softly with a small chuckle, the boyish charm peeking out from his hard facade he had up. she nods with a small giddy smile, “only if you make me pancakes.” she whispers as her eyes stay locked on his blue ones. he was truly a sight to behold. every part of him was and she didn’t know how he could be single. she had to wonder if maybe he chose that for himself, for what reason? she didn’t know. he was a great guy.

an amazing kisser. funny, great in bed. the list kept going.

but he was nothing like her ex, that was the best thing about him. he wasn’t selfish, conceded and rude. maybe leon was the perfect one for her. maybe he wasn’t but she was trusting her gut this time. and her gut was telling her to stay, to let herself be coddled and be held like something precious. she was letting herself be happy for once and only time would tell if they were meant to be.

even if it was the first date, she was in love. silly, but true as she gently cupped his cheek and pulled his lips to hers again. she felt connected to him in more ways then one. she was diving headfirst into him and she didn’t even care. she was happy.

and thats all that truly mattered.

screw it only being the first date, she was his now. and that was a comforting thought as she slipped her arms around him again and breathed him in. this is what love was, or close to it, she was sure. his arms already felt like home, no matter how dangerous that was, it was hers.

and his, as it should be. forevermore. wrapped in each other, no matter what.

exes be damned.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @squazmine @spfoah @jmivenus @rcttendolly @yakamozhoez (if you would like to join my taglist, visit the link at the beginning or the one linked on my blog!)

[stllmnstr]

something old, something new

hello have a 2.3k drabble about Heeseung still having feelings for his ex heavily inspired by the above behind the scenes no doubt mv pics and based on this anon prompt sent to me:

this was supposed to be short but I got carried away and ended up writing 2.3k on my PHONE in an hour so please excuse any typos 😭

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung loves weddings.

When he admits this to people, which is in and of itself a fairly rare occasion, they assume it’s for all of the usual reasons.

The open bar, the well curated playlist, the free food... After all, those are the typical things men in their mid twenties tend to enjoy. And Heeseung always nods along. Forces a laugh whenever his conversation partner cracks another age old joke about getting a little too tipsy on the dance floor.

Besides, it’s not like he’s immune to baser pleasures. At twenty-five, Heeseung does genuinely enjoy eating well and getting drunk on someone else’s dime.

But if he digs a little deeper, is a little more honest with himself, the real reason he loves weddings so much is the romance of it all.

A white dress thats been agonized over and alternated to perfection. A cake thats been taste-tested and intentionally designed with the lucky couple in mind. A venue that likely cost an arm and a leg, but it’s worth it, because it’s the place where two people get to display the love they have for each other in front of everyone that’s important in their lives.

And Jay, he thinks, has outdone them all. The ballroom Heeseung steps into with perfectly shined shoes is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Crystal chandeliers bathe the high ceilinged room in soft, warm light that almost glows like candles at dusk.

The aisle separates two generously sized sections of seating from one another. Each table is laid with a crease less cream colored tablecloth and a bouquet of flowers that Heeseung doesn’t want to guess the price of. It’s stunning. It’s perfect.

And Jay, Heeseung’s best friend of thirteen years, deserves nothing less.

Jake seems to agree. Coming to stand next to Heeseung, he jerks his chin towards the door that leads to the neighboring room. “I just heard from a very trustworthy source that the open bar starts at 1 pm sharp,” he grins.

Heeseung has a sneaking suspicious that this trustworthy source is Sunghoon, which means it’s likely to be incorrect. Besides, booze isn’t what he’s here for.

“Hopefully not,” Heeseung nudges Jake’s shoulder, “since no one wants to watch you stumble down the aisle.”

“At least I’m just a groomsman.” Jake shrugs. “You, on the other hand, Mr. Best Man, have to be on your best behavior. Besides, I can handle my alcohol.”

Heeseung’s lips flatten. “I have several videos that prove otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake waves his palm. “I’ll be good. I promise. No shots until after the ceremony.”

Heeseung just rolls his eyes. His younger friend might be a little more lax when it comes to conducting himself in public, but Heeseung isn’t actually worried. This is Jay’s wedding, after all. And no matter how much Jake and Sunghoon enjoy a good party, they also know how to take things seriously when it matters.

For a moment, Jake just looks around the room, taking it in like Heeseung had a few minutes prior. Similar actions, different conclusions. Jake doesn’t comment on the lighting or the tablecloths or even the romance. Instead, he says, “I can’t believe Jay’s actually getting married.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung breathes. Jay is the first in their friend group to officially leave bachelor-hood, and it does feel a bit strange to bear witness to. “Me neither.”

Jake is still shaking his head. “And he’s the first one out of all of us. That’s almost weirder. You know, we always thought it would be –”

Remembering himself, Jake lets the sentiment die on his lips.

It doesn’t matter, though. Heeseung already knows what he was going to say.

We always thought it would be you.

Four long years ago, at twenty-one, Heeseung had felt far too young for marriage. But that didn’t stop him from imagining what you’d look like in a white dress. What flavor of wedding cake the two of you would select from the box of samples. What overpriced venue you would decide to officially intertwine your lives in.

It didn’t stop him from tucking away a small, velvet box in the back of his drawer for safekeeping. From fantasizing about kneeling in front of you and finally sliding a gorgeous, sparking ring right where he wanted it to belong.

It didn’t stop him from making promises and plans. Adjustments to his life just to make sure there was always space for you.

But one year later, the box and the ring inside were still tucked away. And the love Heeseung kept safe suddenly had no place to go.

He told his friends it was mutual, that you’d made the decision together. But Heeseung never wanted to let go. Even if a job opportunity meant you had to move across the country. Even if it made no logical sense for him to follow when he was still finishing his degree.

It was circumstances, he explained to his friends, to his family. Not anything either of you did wrong.

But alone, surrounded by the four walls of his bedroom and the overwhelming clamor of his own thoughts, Heeseung just cried. Sobbed. The kind of tears that left him gasping for air and with a throb behind his temple.

Because he knew that he never would have done that to you. He would have turned down the job, would have found a way to make long distance work, would have transferred to another university to be close to you even if it wasn’t logical.

He would have done it, the big romantic gesture that gives the rom-com a happy ending and signals to the production team that it’s time to roll the credits.

But you didn’t. When he suggested long distance, you just sighed. And there were tears in your eyes too, but there was no fight.

So Heeseung, despite every bone in his body screaming at him not to, let you go.

And now, three years later, he’s about to watch his best friend get married and pretend it doesn’t sting. He’s happy for Jay. He is. But the selfish parts of him will always wish he was the one waiting at the end of the aisle instead. For you.

The universe has never made a habit of bending to his desires, though, and he fulfills his role as best man well. The ceremony goes off without a hitch, and Jake is appropriately steady-footed in his role as a groomsman.

The white dress is gorgeous. The cake is delicious. The venue is perfect. Whatever romance is, Jay and his fiancée — no, his wife — have captured it well.

Despite his earlier words, Heeseung makes a home for himself at the aforementioned open bar the second the ceremony is over. Knocking back another swig of whiskey, he appreciates the slight burn. At least it’s in his throat this time, instead of his heart. And at least it’s induced by alcohol instead of misplaced jealousy.

But he must have had one too many drinks, because for a fleeting moment, he swears that the late arrival that makes a hesitant entrance into the reception room is—

No.

There’s no way.

You only knew Jay because you knew Heeseung, and those flowers withered three long years ago. You have no reason to be here now.

But then he hears it, and oh the lurch in his heart hurts just as bad as it did the first time. Because despite the improbability of it all, that’s your voice that floats above the music and exchanged pleasantries with another guest. Even after all the time that’s passed, Heeseung would know it anywhere. Could pick it out of any crowd.

He turns to you slowly, as if he can delay the inevitable just a little longer. As soon as his eyes land on you, he realizes his mistake. He shouldn’t have looked at you at all, should have just slid off the bar stool and ran in the other direction because it still hurts.

You’re three years older, and the time has been good to you. The evening dress you wear hangs from your body in a way that only reminds him of what you look like beneath it, of the way running his hands and his lips and his love over the skin you conceal used to feel like second nature. The way you used to play with his hair with his head in your lap, trading small moments of intimacy after a long day.

It hurts. It aches and it stings and it burns.

He has to get out of here. He has to leave. Now.

Not caring if he’s making a scene, Heeseung stands from the barstool. The only reason he tries to be somewhat discreet is to avoid the heat of your gaze.

All the way to the door on the opposite side of the room, he doesn’t turn back. Not once. On the other side of the door, he lets his body go limp against the solid surface beneath his spine, just for a moment. He exhales a long held breath.

But the air is still stifling, even as he loosens the tie at his neck. Straightening back to his full height, he turns down a short hallway until he arrives at the small outdoor balcony he noticed earlier.

The air outside is cold, at least. Fresh.

On the horizon, the sun spends its last few moments of the day painting the sky in gorgeous, golden hues. Heeseung squints, but he doesn’t look away. Hands wrapped around the bannister that lines the balcony, he sags into himself.

Shoulders hunched, he forces a long inhale into his lungs. And then he releases it. His breath is a pattern he can cling to, something steady that tethers him back to reality. Something to focus on that isn’t the war in his mind.

But peacetime is only an illusion. After a handful of quiet minutes, he hears the door open behind him.

“Oh,” you startle. He knows it’s you, even from just one syllable. “Sorry, I didn’t realize someone was out here already. I’ll just…” Your words trail off into silence, but Heeseung doesn’t hear retreating footsteps, doesn’t hear the door close again. After another stilted moment, what he hears is, “Heeseung?”

Your voice is small. As if you can apologize just by being gentle. As if he’s a wounded animal you don’t want to startle.

And Heeseung, despite himself, does feel a bit like a kitten left out in the rain when he finds it in himself to turn and face you.

The only word he says is your name. His tone is steady, even. More so than he thought he was capable of. But he’s looking at you now too, and his eyes have never been good at hiding secrets.

“I…” You trail off again. You’re at a loss too. “How are you?”

“Don’t do that,” Heeseung shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” you retreat immediately. But Heeseung remembers when you used to argue, when you used to fight back. When you valued the strength of your relationship over his wounded pride.

“Don’t be,” Heeseung shakes his head again. “You made your choice, so stick to it. You don’t get to…” He screws his eyes shut for a moment, fist clenching at his side. Opening his eyes again, he matches your gaze. “You don’t get to leave me and then apologize for it.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t miss a beat. “I meant for intruding,” you tell him. “I was apologizing for disturbing you.”

But you remember how he used to love making space for you in his life. How his plans were your plans and his time alone on a balcony would only be made better if you were there, too.

And you still remember the day you were inspired by a strong bout of spring fever, how you dedicated an entire afternoon to deep cleaning.

You still remember the small, velvet box you found.

You didn’t open it, but you didn’t have to. The small, nondescript container scared you enough. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Heeseung. You already had Pinterest boards full of white dresses and three-tier cakes and stunning venues. Suits that you thought would bring out his best features.

But you’d also just gotten the news of your promotion. Across the country. You didn’t know how to tell him, and you had less of an idea how to leave him.

But you knew you had to. He would follow you, if you let him. You were sure of it. But he was enrolled in the best university for his program, and you watched him fight tooth and nail to earn his spot there.

Heeseung was a bright light, a beacon of good things, and if you were honest with yourself, you felt like his commitment to you was something that only weighed him down.

He was an adult, too. A young one, yes, but a full, grown person all the same. Perfectly capable of making his own decisions, but you took that from him anyway.

And now, three years later, you can still read him like an open book. There’s hurt in his gaze, pain that lingers even now. There’s resentment, too, and you can’t blame him for it.

I still love you, you want to tell him. Because it’s true. Because you do. Because you can see it in his eyes, too.

But you’ve always been better at holding your tongue than him.

Instead, you turn on your heel, planning to exit the way you came.

Fingers around the door handle, the sound of your name stops you.

It sounds like he’s begging, like he’s pleading, and you can’t bear to turn and see the results of your devastation as surely as you hear them.

Instead, you remain motionless. You squeeze your eyes shut as tightly as you can.

And then, so faintly it’s almost lost to the wind, he says, “Stay. Please.”

.....

thanks for reading! send me a drabble prompt here if you'd like!

[xxsabitoxx]

xxSabitoxx is now archived. 

After some heavy consideration over the last few months, I have come to the conclusion that I am going to be archiving xxSabitoxx. 

I have poured nearly three years of my life into this blog. I have seen several friends come and go. And most of all, I have been blessed with such a large following that I truly don’t deserve. 

However, my love for writing has slowly diminished, just as my love for this site has. I am not going to go into boring detail as I do not want it to seem like I am searching for pity.

But, before I go, it has been brought to my attention that many are displeased with the way I handled a particular anon ask last week. I wanted to take a second to apologize, as I agree that I could have answered that question much more level-headed and maturely. It has since been deleted because I did not like the way I was spoken to, and I especially disliked the way I spoke to them. 

I could have responded to that ask in several ways and I chose to be rude, and for that I am sorry. 

With that being said, I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs on Tumblr over the last decade under a few other usernames and aliases. I’ve witnessed the steady dumpster-fire decline of Tumblr etiquette and people's genuine disregard for others on here.

I am simply one person with a life outside of the stories I choose to write. I have several priorities that will always outweigh my hobbies.

After all this time, I can say I am finally done. I’m over it. There is no point in putting effort into a hobby I no longer have a passion for. So I am closing this chapter today to start fresh tomorrow.

I cannot begin to thank you all enough for choosing to read my work and support my blog. Whether you’ve been with me since the start or just followed me today, you supported me in some way and I’m forever thankful for that. 

I’m deeply sorry I couldn’t do more, and I am especially sorry for those who were waiting on stories that will never be written. I hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t. 

It has been both a wonderful and terrible journey as xxSabitoxx / May. And as much as I would love to be done with this and simply click the “delete blog” button in my settings – I know many of you enjoy the stories I’ve posted and quite frankly I have grown attached to this blog as well. 

So, it shall remain an archive that may one day revive itself but please do not hold your breath. If the day comes that I decide it’s time to delete this blog, I will take the time to move as much of my work as I can over to ao3 before doing so. 

So, until we meet again, take care.

- May

[velvetvexations]

'transemasculation' is a dumb as fuck term. i am not being emasculated for being trans

when my mother accuses me of being more aggressive since i went on testosterone, that's not emasculation

when people accuse me of being a sexual predator and treat me like one on the basis of being a trans man, that's not emasculation

when people physically assault me because 'you're a man now so i can hit you', that's not emasculation

i'm not being emasculated. people feel threatened and insulted because, in their eyes, i am a woman with the audacity to demand a seat at the mens' table and i need to be put in my place. they don't do this by stripping me of my masculinity or emasculating me. they do this by using all my masculinity against me

'well you're a boy now so you have to use the mens' toilet' is because they know i'll get hurt in there

'you're a man now so i can hit you' is an excuse to try and beat me back into my place

'you don't need birth control you're on testosterone' is an attempt to punish me for trying to be a man by denying me my bodily autonomy

i'm not being emasculated. my masculinity is being weaponised against me in conjunction with the weaponisation of my own body and appearance. emasculating and denying me my masculinity would be too obviously transphobic. instead, my masculinity has become a weapon with which to beat me. 'transemasculation' doesn't cover that at all

I agree with all of this. Not that I have to, but like. Logically this all tracks to me and I support you in your conclusions, anon.

[trashytracktales]

Okay but back to the serious questions?

… is lando a boobs or an ass guy? cause personally i think he can’t fucking choose. he just loves both so much!! but what’s his deep preference?

im devastated by this question

Guys, you know I always research my stuff before making a statement about anything that has to do with this man, and trust me when I say, I approached this question with the seriousness of a scientist on the brink of a major discovery. I’m talking surgical gloves, goggles on etc.

So, during this process, I came to the conclusion that the deep preference might just be found in the way he behaves around cars. SHOCKING, I KNOW.

There, proof that he’s an ass man.

.

.

.

Or is he 😧 *dramatic music intensifies*

I agree with you, anon. He may have problems choosing. However, I think Lando’s preferences are situational. And that is the clearest answer I have, I fear. For instance, in public (at the club, a party, or even in the paddock when it’s crowded, maybe 👀) it’s all about the ass. Why? Easier to grab, less obvious than cupping someone’s boobs in front of God and the cameras. You know, subtle yet effective.

Now, in private? He might feel personally responsible for making up for every moment he’s ever neglected the twins. I mean, he kinda gives off strong rest his head there and call it a day energy.

But, OH WELL, what do I know... 😶

[burdenandacrop]

I saw this trend on Facebook where a couple arm wrestling then the girl lift or unzip her shirt as a distraction to win hahaha

Can you possibly write w/ Schlatt?

~ 🍨

˗ˏˋ ❝ touché. ❞ ˎˊ˗

i've seen a few videos of the trend so i hope u enjoy my little spin on it ! thank u so much for the submission anon ! <3

summary : the two of you have had your fair share of drinks while patrolling the night streets of kyoto, only to find more entertainment within the bar stools.

⋮ ⌗ ┆teasing, friends to lovers, palpable tension, fem reader.

"you're about to fall over." schlatt giggles out, stretching out his hand to hold the lower part of your back. watching as you fail to keep a hold of yourself, so much for denying you were a light weight. you flutter your eyes open and look out to the dimly lit street lights that perfectly shined on the puddles on the side walk. you look to schlatt and shake your head, pushing his shoulder lightly. you were so stuck on proving to him that you could in fact hold your liquor, despite his incessant jabs of saying you always need a babysitter when you decide to drink. he might've been right but there was no way you were going to let him know you agreed with him. so, the only logical conclusion was to be stubborn. "i know how to walk." you mumble out, your words progressively becoming more and more slurred. schlatt scoffed at your choice of defense, "bullshit." he replied with a strong tone.

you groan and leer your eyes over to him, the weight of your head felt like an actual boulder. he could see it too, shaking his head and stopping in his tracks to face you better. holding both sides of your face with his palms and sighing at the sight in front of him. "you said you could have a few cocktails and be fine." he muttered with an eye roll, obviously not too happy with the given circumstances. you scrunch up your face and shake your head, unintelligible mumbles escaping your lips. "and can." you practically bark out, rolling your eyes back up to his. he pinches the side of your face before letting go of you, making you groan out. "you need water or something." he sighs out and stuffs his hands back into his pockets. tilting his body to the side to see if there was any safe areas to sit at for the time being. he just needed you to start acting like a human being again. at least that.

"where are you looking at?" you whimper out, rubbing your face in the spot where he pinched. you watch as he keeps his gaze steady on the numerous amount of signs that led into either bars or restaurants. "looking for a place where you can go back to being normal." he stifled out, looking back to you with a cocked head. "or as normal as you can get." he chuckled out, knowing the little additive would piss you off. you roll your eyes and cross your arms, trying to reel in any bit of heat you could get from your coat's sleeves. it was quite the cold night in kyoto after all. "ha ha. so funny." you sarcastically state, your face failing you as you tried your best to hide your grin. "apparently. since you're smiling." he shrugs and pokes at your shoulder, noticing how your eyes were falling shut again. "seriously, wake up would you?" he pleads. he was quite the perfectionist when it came to his trips, even if he denied those claims. as much as he wanted to be the "go with the flow" guy when it came to traveling, he just simply wasn't.

"trying- trying, i am. okay?" you mumble out, but that obviously wasn't good enough for him. he sighs out at the sight of how drunken you became, and in such a short amount of time too. wasn't how he wanted the night to go in the slightest. "listen. let's just- get you in this bar over here. we'll order some waters and sit." he stated, begging that you just take the offer. he knew you were rather random when you were drunk and were quick to cause a scene. even if it wasn't intentional. he looked at you as you stood in silence for a moment, seeing how the wind blew your hair ever so slightly. as well as how the warm dull lighting only highlighted just how bloodshot your eyes were. "can it be quiet?" you groan out, stumbling over to walk towards him. or at least attempting to. he softly nodded and grabbed your arm to help you walk better, "course it can." he assures, looking at you for a moment longer than he should've been. hoping you don't notice the longing that lingered behind his eyes. you huff and lean your head on his shoulder, only making him widen his eyes and straighten his posture. his head just going 'alright so this is happening'.

he stood for a moment, a bit taken aback from the sudden touch from you. swiftly getting a hold of himself and putting his foot forward to start the walk over to the nearby bar. he felt how you clung onto him with each step, how every time you felt like you were gonna fall you just clutched onto his side more. he was trying so hard to focus on the path, considering how slick the roads were from the remnants of the rain shower. it was just a hard challenge to not look at you the entire time, he knew he needed to discard those feelings though. it was the whiskey talking. he only felt this way about you when he was drunk, so it obviously wasn't real. he just hated he felt that way in any occasion. it felt almost gross, he was your friend. he was someone you trusted. he was someone that you knew wouldn't try anything that was odd. so he was strict on keeping it that way, even on nights when he was alone in his house half a bottle of benedictine down and wanting to call you and tell you how he just wanted to bend you over his brand new $3000 coffee table.

you had small thoughts of doubt about him too, those little voices that whispered that you wanted him. like when you went over to his house to relax and you saw how he looked with wet hair, or how good he looked when he freshly shaved. you knew it was stupid to try though, and you knew those thoughts would fade. it was a known thing, schlatt just wasn't an attachment guy. not even a fun night sorta guy. he was schlatt. the guy you'd been friends with for years. it was going to be that way for as long as you could keep it in. seemed like the most logical move. it was just a bit of a pleasant surprise that he wanted you to tag along with him to kyoto of all places, it took some convincing too. you knew his schedule, and he knew how busy yours was. he was just stuck on getting you out here, to see what he'd been praising for the past couple of years. even if it meant taking out PTO you were saving to use for christmas time.

"just a bit longer and we're there." schlatt gruffly states, it appeared he was trying to seem more colder. he knew it was because he didn't want to be falling down the hole of being soft with you, cause he knew exactly what that would lead to. confusion and embarrassment. he had a feeling you only viewed him as a friend, or at least that's what he picked up from you. cause girls who like guys don't continuously tell their 'friend' about their romance escapades. he hated every detail you gave him too, and how all the dates you went on sounded absolutely nothing like him. maybe he wasn't your type, which pained him to even try to think about. a small part of him held onto the fact you might like him though, even if it was stupid.

you fluttered open your eyes the best you could, lifting your head off his shoulder as the prominent neon signs began to shine on your face. he looked to you as you slowly pulled away from him, a bit disappointed in the fact. harshly reminding himself, 'she's just stabilizing herself. she wasn't leaning on you as a romantic gesture, you idiot.' even if it hurt to come to that realization. you look up the light up sign that had a broken flashing bulb, "good thing i don't have epilepsy." you joke as you look back over to him, the little comment making him roll his eyes and push past you to open up the door of the bar. "fucking ridiculous, now let's go." he sighs out, drumming his fingers along the door as he patiently waited for you to make your way in. you cocked a brow at him, it was kind of out of the blue to do such a gentleman gesture. it was small but, still, out of the ordinary for him. "starting to think that new haircut you've been doing lately is changing you." you playfully poke at him, only annoying him further. "stop talking about my undercut and get inside." he groaned out.

you raise your hands in defense, you were surprisingly already feeling better. maybe it was the aggressive lights hitting your face, that'll do it. "okay meanie." you pout, rolling your eyes and practically stomping inside the bar. your eyes being met with a rather serene environment, much different than a bar in brooklyn. that was a fact. he watched as you walked inside, his face softening as he realized just how beautiful you looked underneath this lighting. almost stuck in his footsteps as he kept his eyes glossed on you, gruffly groaning and kicking his foot off the ground before walking in to follow you. you were already finding the perfect spot for the two of you, right in the corner where there was a cute little lamp that would hang over the two of you. you pointed at it with a smile and turned back to schlatt with the same look on your face. he bit down on his tongue as he looked at you, god he hated feeling like this. he was your friend. he was your good friend. he wasn't anything more and he needed to stop looking at you like you were a monet piece.

"isn't this adorable?" you practically squeal out, hopping yourself into the stool and adjusting your coat gently. he just sighed and nodded as he made his way over to the spot you so graciously picked out. that stupid lamp was going to be the death of him. of course you had to pick the most romantic spot of this bar. he trails his hands on the bar top before settling himself into the seat beside you. clasping his hands together and looking down the polished oak beneath him. hoping if he could just keep his gaze on the bartender or the wood engravings, he'd be safe from looking at you and giving away the fact he was having those feelings again. in the midst of you fawning over the lamp, you look to him and rest your cheek on your palm. guess the drunkenness comes back when you sit, wonderful. before you could say anything to him, you heard the warm voice of the bartender calling out to the two of you. talk about fast service.

schlatt quickly looks up and readjusted him in his seat, "anyway we could just get some lemon waters?" he asks the bartender, which kind of threw off the bartender. it was obviously a pretty simple order for a saturday night, but he wasn't going to judge. he just nodded with a smile and went on his merry way to make the ice cold drinks. you wait for the bartender to fully walk away and leer your eyes back to him, drumming your fingers against your cheek as you became more and more drowsy. "you're a buzz kill, i wanted another whiskey sour." you pout, pursing out your top lip. he side eyes you and scoffs at your drunken pleas. "sure, then we can spend an entire night in the emergency room because your liver gave out." he groans out. he seemed so serious, and suddenly even more cold. "jesus, okay dad." you chuckle out nervously.

he closed his eyes and not once did he turn his head to face you, even in the midst of your forced giggles. even if they were fake, he still found them adorable. what was wrong with him? he just wanted to see you the same as he did this morning. no lingering thoughts, no puppy dog eyes when he saw your face, and definitely no thoughts of just how it'd feel to wake up and see your face beside him. "just drink the water when you get it, alright? you need it." he stated as he ran a hand on his shoulder, wishing to anything above he could just sober up more. he was incredible at hiding his drunkenness but he was definitely feeling it. just sucked this is how he was when he was drunk, the creep who fawned over his beautiful friend when he wasn't supposed to. he knew that. "i will, i will." you sigh out, looking back up to the lamp and wishing he'd get out of whatever funk he was in. to be frank, it was getting to be annoying. and very very quickly.

you looked at the lamp gently sway, wondering on what to do. matter a fact, even what to say. it was obvious he wasn't in the best mood, and it killed you that this time you had no idea why. your eyes trailed back to him, gazing on his side profile. you gently grinned as you saw the pink patches on his cheeks, so he was plastered. that little voice started up again, getting not so little when you realized you were analyzing every detail of his side profile. you narrowed your eyes as you counted every freckle and mole. "you know there's a big dipper on your face, right?" you stifle out, a bit surprised it managed to leave your lips. he sat still for a moment and then slowly turned his head to you. gently covering his cheek with a sly itch to hide the motion that he was attempting to hide his face. "that's an acne scar but thanks." he sighed out.

god, could he be any worse with you tonight? you almost felt like a nuisance just for sitting next to him, it never feels like this. so what was the deal with tonight? "you need to lighten up." you stammer out, tripping over your syllables which in turn made schlatt roll his eyes with a grin. at least he was smiling, sorta. "see. that." you add on and poke his cheek with your finger, immediately making him freeze. "big ol smile on the big guy. perfect." you chuckle out, he laughed with you. he couldn't help it, the facade was a lot but you always won. in every ball park in his mind, you were first. "it's the whiskey." he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, leaning his arm against the bar top. "you're only making me want a whiskey sour more." you groan out, dramatically dropping your shoulders. you cross your arms and lean against the bar top, appreciating how cool it was to the touch. much needed for your current condition.

you narrowed your eyes at him, fixing up a plan in your head. you knew there was a fair shot you'd lose but, what hurts to try? "say. want to play a game?" you exclaim, throwing off schlatt a bit. he saw the mischievous smile on your face and began fearing for his sanity, with you; it was always a surprise. "no. i'm not-" he begins, but you weren't having any of it. "just do it. please?" you interrupted, making schlatt move his head back in surprise. pushy, aren't you? "arm wrestling-" you start, in which schlatt immediately shakes his head, "you'd lose." he cuts in. you scoff at him and tilt your head to the side in frustration. "don't cut me off!" you exclaim with a pout. "you did it first." he quickly buts in. you glare at him and sit in silence for a moment. touché. "can you just let me speak." you say with a defeated tone.

schlatt doesn't speak, instead making a zipping motion with his hands against his lips. you shake your head at his childish expression and lean forward on the bar top, slightly putting off schlatt due to the close proximity you were creating. "arm wrestling. if i win, i get to have a whiskey sour." you plead with him, the second the words leave your lips schlatt was quick to show how displeased he was with his face. then it occurred to him, you weren't going to win. so this was going to be an easy win, and also an easy way to shut you up. "sure hotshot." he snickers out, immediately filling your brain with glee. you bite your tongue between a smile and place your arm down with confidence. "step up to the plate then." you declared, schlatt just raised his eyebrows and slowly rose his arm up to meet with yours on the bar top.

"what are you, my old baseball coach?" he scoffed with a grin, wiggling his fingers around in preparation. you looked dead into his eyes and shrugged, "it's a common phrase." you waved your arm on the table, ushering him to start the challenge you put in front of him. he rolled his eyes and looked to your waiting hand, and back to your eyes. "you know you're not gettin' that whiskey sour, right?" he snickers before grasping his hand into yours. tightly gripping his fingers into yours, hoping it would throw you off. instead, it just made that little voice grow louder. why did his fingers so perfectly interlock with yours? enough of that, it was time to prove yourself. or at least try to. you know you didn't have a fair shot considering you've seen the stuff he's lifted. he may not admit it to most, but he was pretty damn strong. "i'm getting that whiskey sour." you affirmed with a smug grin.

"so determined to make your liver give out, props." he mocks, looking to you with a smile. "was nice knowing you, anyhow." he adds on before looking back to your hand, seeing if it was time to start this shenanigan of yours. you flash him back a smile and look to his hand, nodding to start it off. he immediately starts to pull your hand down, with honest little to no effort. "c'mon sweetheart, you've got more in you." he snickers, the little pet name catching you off guard. it felt so weird with him calling you that, how easily it rolled off his tongue. as if it belonged there. the worst part was how much you could get used to hearing it. you tense up your arm, beginning to get more pull with his hand, smiling as you realized this might be easier than you thought. schlatt was determined on slipping you up though. "where's this strength when i need help with building my furniture, huh?" he stifles out, he didn't want to admit it but he was going much easier than he could. he just really liked holding your hand, and this was a perfect excuse.

you knit your eyebrows as you try your hardest to keep pushing his arm down, but it really did seem like no use. you were stuck right on the top. barely pushing his hand to where you needed it, maybe it was useless. you thought as quickly as you could, all the while pushing all the strength in your hand to push his down. you just had to think of something, what would throw him off? he was pretty stern most times so it was hard to rack up something in your head. then suddenly, it hit you. something all mankind couldn't ignore if they tried. you just hoped it wouldn't make anything weird, you just seriously wanted that stupid whiskey sour because of the intense headache you were getting. you bite down on your tongue as you ponder the rather rash decision. trying your best to keep your weight, wincing at the pain it was causing in your wrist. little did you know, schlatt was already on the verge of falling over just by the sight of you trying so hard.

his eyes stayed fixated on how your face showed so much focus, how badly your arm was trembling under his strength. a small part of him got oddly excited from it all, imagining this in different circumstances. in different places, different positions, and different outcomes. instead, he was just whirling his mind up by how enamored he was by you. you finally had enough and look up into his eyes instead of his hand, throwing him a bit off. in that moment, you saw something you didn't quite pick up on earlier. his down turned eyes seething through yours, seeing something. a feeling. "you gonna give up yet?" he stated, cracking a small grin as he kept his grip on your hand. you wince and shake your head, raising your free hand up. his eyes following your movement in a curious manner, were you going to try and take him down with two hands? there was no way you thought that was going to work.

you swiftly zip down your jacket, exposing your cleavage. sure, it was a stupid idea but you couldn't tell what the outcome was going to be. schlatt's eyes immediately go down, as if his entire body froze. you smile deviously and slam down his hand, his arm was basically jello. you chuckle to yourself, tapping his arm down to the bar top and celebrating your victory. you clap your hands together and even forget that you were exposing yourself a good amount. your smile falters as you realize just how serious he looked in the moment, his eyes stuck on yours. the silence filling between the two of you, almost uncomfortable. "don't start shit you can't finish." he chokes out, his tone almost sharp enough to cut. it caught you so off guard, what could that mean? "don't start what?" you question, your head cocked at him as you wondered what he was going on about. "don't look at me like that. for the love of god." he stammers out, rubbing his eyes and sighing. "what is going on with you?" you ask, the anxiety starting to settle within your system. you assumed it was harmless.

"you're driving me up a fucking wall here." he mutters, his eyes shooting back to yours. "so say it." you choke out, you knew you were speaking faster than you could think. knowing this would probably lead to something horrid, but you couldn't stop yourself. he looked at you for a moment, then back to your exposed cleavage. shaking his head and rubbing his face, it was incredibly evident now. "that just wasn't fair. and you know it." he sighed out, letting go of his face. letting his arm lean against the bar top as he looked at you, almost longingly. "so do something about it." you state, rather bluntly. what were you doing? was it the alcohol? maybe something more? why was that little voice just a screaming one now? he straightened up his posture after you said that, you could even see his nostrils flaring by how much feeling was soaring through his bloodstream. "i'm not saying shit." he seethed through his teeth, instead of stating it. he grabbed you by the waist and sunk his lips onto yours. you leaned back slightly, pushing back into the kiss. so much for a whiskey sour.

"so take that for what you will." he muttered between the kisses, pulling himself closer to you. not really caring if you two were in public, he had waited ages to do this one simple thing. so he'd be damned if he let a little crowd get to him. you pulled back and placed your hand on his chest, your lips parted in surprise. "took you long enough, yknow?" you snicker out, attempting to catch your breath. "don't say shit about time to me." he groaned out as he looked into your eyes, you could tell he just wanted to do it all over again. "hotel?" you grin, making him immediately nod and take you from the waist to help you stand up.

took you long enough.

author's note : i hope u enjoyed my little spin on this idea !! i really got into it, if you couldn't tell :> thank you sososo much for the submission & thank you for the patience with it !

[txttletale]

niceys positive anon!! i don't agree with you on everything but you are so clearly like well read and well rounded that you've helped me think through a lot of my own inconsistencies and hypocrises in my own political and social thought, even if i do have slightly different conclusions at times then u (mainly because i believe there's more of a place for idealism and 'mind politics' than u do). anyway this is a preamble to ask if you have recommended reading in the past and if not if you had any recommended reading? there's some obvious like Read Marx but beyond that im always a little lost wading through theory and given you seem well read and i always admire your takes, i wondered about your recs

it's been a while since i've done a big reading list post so--bearing in mind that my specific areas of 'expertise' (i say that in huge quotation marks obvsies i'm just a girlblogger) are imperialism and media studies, here are some books and essays/pamphlets i recommend. the bolded ones are ones that i consider foundational to my politics

BASICS OF MARXISM

friedrich engels, principles of commmunism

friedrich engels, socialism: utopian & scientific

karl marx, the german ideology

karl marx, wage labour & capital

mao zedong, on contradiction

nikolai bukharin, anarchy and scientific communism

rosa luxemburg, reform or revolution?

v.i lenin, left-wing communism: an infantile disorder

v.i. lenin, the state & revolution

v.i. lenin, what is to be done?

IMPERIALISM

aijaz ahmed, iraq, afghanistan, and the imperialism of our time

albert memmi, the colonizer and the colonized

che guevara, on socialism and internationalism (ed. aijaz ahmad)

eduardo galeano, the open veins of latin america

edward said, orientalism

fernando cardoso, dependency and development in latin america

frantz fanon, black skin, white masks

frantz fanon, the wretched of the earth

greg grandin, empire's workshop

kwame nkrumah, neocolonialism, the last stage of imperialism

michael parenti, against empire

naomi klein, the shock doctrine

ruy mauro marini, the dialectics of dependency

v.i. lenin, imperialism: the highest stage of capitalism

vijay prashad, red star over the third world

vincent bevins, the jakarta method

walter rodney, how europe underdeveloped africa

william blum, killing hope

zak cope, divided world divided class

zak cope, the wealth of (some) nations

MEDIA & CULTURAL STUDIES

antonio gramsci, the prison notebooks

ed. mick gidley, representing others: white views of indigenous peoples

ed. stuart hall, representation: cultural representations and signifying pratices

gilles deleuze & felix guattari, capitalism & schizophrenia

jacques derrida, margins of philosophy

jacques derrida, speech and phenomena

michael parenti, inventing reality

michel foucault, disicipline and punish

michel foucault, the archeology of knowledge

natasha schull, addiction by design

nick snricek, platform capitalism

noam chomsky and edward herman, manufacturing consent

regis tove stella, imagining the other

richard sennett and jonathan cobb, the hidden injuries of class

safiya umoja noble, algoriths of oppression

stuart hall, cultural studies 1983: a theoretical history

theodor adorno and max horkheimer, the culture industry

walter benjamin, the work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction

OTHER

angela davis, women, race, and class

anna louise strong, cash and violence in laos and vietnam

anna louise strong, the soviets expected it

anna louise strong, when serfs stood up in tibet

carrie hamilton, sexual revolutions in cuba

chris chitty, sexual hegemony

christian fuchs, theorizing and analysing digital labor

eds. jules joanne gleeson and elle o'rourke, transgender marxism

elaine scarry, the body in pain

jules joanne gleeson, this infamous proposal

michael parenti, blackshirts & reds

paulo freire, pedagogy of the oppressed

peter drucker, warped: gay normality and queer anticapitalism

rosemary hennessy, profit and pleasure

sophie lewis, abolish the family

suzy kim, everyday life in the north korean revolution

walter rodney, the russian revolution: a view from the third world

[rqgnarok]

Hello! I loved your Jamie Tartt angst and would love more angst that leaves you hurt but resolves itself (I’m too mushy for things ending at angst) maybe self sabotage? I feel like season two Jamie would be good at that since he does want to be better but doesn’t fully believe in himself. Or Jamie is still into Keeley and reader likes Jamie and is icing out Jamie to protect their self? Literally anything there is a Jamie angst deficit 😩 mwah <3

hi anon! sorry it took me so long, school and then writer's block kicked my ass. full disclosure, i didn't read this after i wrote it so sorry for any mistakes! enjoy <3

“Thought you left.”

You close your eyes in despair, thankful at least that Jamie can’t see you. You’d been sure your escape had been a subtle one but here he was– the very person you were trying to avoid following you to the balcony on the less crowded side of the restaurant.

You didn’t think he’d notice. He hadn’t yet– looked at you or talked to you since he came into the team event with Keeley wrapped around his arm, looking gorgeous and worthy of his attention. She had smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you, which made this whole thing entirely more ridiculous. 

You’d thought this was a date. After replaying the interaction between you and Jamie for the umpteenth time, you’ve come to the conclusion that your own excitement blinded you to the reality of it all. When Jamie had asked, all nonchalant without making eye contact, if the PR team would be at the annual team dinner in a non working capacity, you’d let yourself imagine something you couldn’t have only to be left a fool. 

Well. Here you are now, paying the price.  

“Just needed a second,” you try to sound like there’s a smile gracing your lips despite how close you are to tears, but won’t look back to meet Jamie’s eye. He settles at your side soon enough, hands in the pockets of his suit while yours remain gripping the railing, hoping for a full breath that just won’t reach your lungs. “There’s a lot of people in there.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says, hitting the nail on the head regarding your anxiety in crowded places. There’s a reason you work behind the camera, making other people look good while getting to stay away from the limelight. “It’s just the team, right? You’re okay with us.”

You can’t help but agree, even if it sounds a little miserable. “Yeah.”

Jamie doesn’t follow up and you find yourselves enveloped by the silence and the sounds of the street life underneath you. Cars passing by, people chatting and talking, the whistle of the air as it threads through your clothes and bites at your skin. 

“Are you cold?” he asks when you shiver, shifting to take off his jacket and wrap it around your shoulders. You really wish he wouldn’t, stopping him before he can.

“I’m fine,” your voice betrays you and breaks, and you don’t have to look at Jamie to know he’s looking at you now, urgently searching for a sign of discomfort. “I’ll go back in a minute, yeah? I’m right behind you.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, surer than anything else he’s said so far. There’s a steel to his voice now that he’s realized you’re not fine at all, willing to protect you even from yourself. “I like keeping you company.”

“Jamie–” 

“Are you alright?” you have to, you have to look at him, and there’s a furrow to his brow that frames his face so, so nicely. Eyes wide and concerned, one of his hands leaves his pocket to reach for you. He says, softer. “You’re crying.”

“Am not,” you say peluntantly, because you’re not. Not yet at least. You’re cold and tired in your fancy attire and fancier shoes, but you’re not crying. You won’t until you’re in the safety of your apartment, away from the people who care about you. “I’m okay, Jamie, please go back inside.”

“Love,” he says knowingly, tilting his head. His searching hand, after a moment too long of hesitation, touches your cheek. He’s frowning still. You wish he didn’t look so handsome doing so. “We’ve barely talked tonight. I was hoping…”

He drifts off when a loud laugh from inside catches him off guard, quickly retreating back to himself and digging his hand back into his pocket, taking a step back from you. 

It’s such a terrible sequence of events in such a short amount of time that it makes you laugh, a sharp sound that surprises Jamie as much as it seems to hurt him. “I–” he begins, then cuts himself off. 

It dawns on you that this might not be the first time Jamie has been rendered speechless, but it is the first time you’ve seen him scared. 

“It’s fine,” you say. And it’s not. It’s not, but– “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You turn back into the night and wait one, two, five arduous seconds in which Jamie doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself before you hear his steps begin to retreat. Breathing out, you think the worst is over until he speaks, “you look beautiful tonight.”

He stutters. “Always, y’know, but tonight. You do. You do.”

“Can we… can I see you? Before you go?” he wonders.He calls your name when you don’t take the bait, frustration coating his tone. “Come on, I’m tryin’ here, sweetheart. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” you say, soft, so soft you’re sure he doesn’t hear it. “Nothing, Jamie.”

“Okay,” he says. Then– “I’ve been tryin’ to ask you out for over a month and you won’t let me.”

You want to be angry, but the statement only makes you sad. “Go back to your date.”

Jamie splutters in disbelief. “What?”

“Keeley’s probably wondering where you are,” it sounds accusing even to your own ears, and you hate it. You never intended to get him into trouble or bother him with your feelings for him. “Go back to your date, Jay.”

“That’s not– she’s not–” he blabbers. “Love, please–”

Isaac and Dani, drunk out of their minds, crash into the balcony to wrap their arms around Jamie, too out of it to notice your distress or that you’re even there. They call his name to the melody of Baby Shark, loud and basked in laughter. 

“Ayo, lover boy!” Isaac barks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “Your girl’s lookin’ all over for you! I think she’s ready to go home if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off,” Jamie snaps, thoroughly upset but barely heard above Dani’s teasing ohhhhh. “Can’t you see I–”

You abruptly turn, barely sparing them a look as you excuse yourself meekly, voice wet and hushed. Jamie tries and fails to hold onto you, calling your name. You only feel the brush of his fingertips on your bare elbow as you escape his grip and leave him behind.