#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

[poughkeepsies]

.

[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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[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.

[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

[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

[akanemnon]

i’m sorry you get the most annoying anons ever sometimes 😭

I get a LOT of comments and asks across many platforms and I find it really fascinating how a lot of them confidently claim how something is, how things are supposed to be, or how things will turn out. It's kinda fun in a way. Because most of the time I WOULD agree if it was REGULAR Frisk/Kris we're talking about.

But this is Twin Runes now, isn't it? Everything is a little weird and a little different when it comes to these two and that is very much intentional.

Of course, I know the story and I know the characters very well. What is up with them and what makes them tick. The nature of this story is a fun little mystery.

Without ALL of the puzzle pieces it is hard to come to the correct conclusion. But it IS possible!

All I want to say is, that I have done pleeeeeeenty of research. And if things are off, or stray from the source matieral ever so slightly, then it's intentional. But if I make a LEGIT mistake you are very free to draw attention to that. I am not without fail. Quite the contrary, actually.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hello Poly! The short stories you're putting out are absolutely making me feral. Thank you for all the anons and their creative minds and thank you for writing and expanding on it beautifully. You inspire me to write my own 😭😭 I've been thinking of an older reader Empress Consort and a much younger Commander Gojo and him continuously getting all the wrong conclusions and falling hard despite the Empress only using him for her own pleasure (he knows this but he can't stop his feelings anyway). Im gonna stop before I get carried away

You cant just leave me with this 10/10 take and leave gET BACK HERE-

you are the brains of the operation, not your idiot husband. He's the Emperor only in name; all the advisors and officials know who's pulling the true strings. While he's off in brothels, you maintain and ensure the kingdom prospers. He may have been born into royalty, but you fought to rule. You don't mind his sleazy behavior. His preoccupations leave the kingdom running smoothly, and its not like you've ever missed his touches. 

Satoru is a stupid child when he catches your eye. Apart from his clan name and excellent swordsmanship, he has nothing going for him. He has no tact, often talks his head off, and is just 20 years old. Everyone tells you he's barely fit enough for a squire's post, but you don't listen to them. You've been needing to get rid of the current commander: A drunk that's only there due to nepotism. You choose Satoru because he looks easy to control. He's a child, eager to please, despite his brash nature. Smart, but his lack of aspirations leaves him open. You know with enough gold and women, you can tame him. He reminds you of a dog: treat-motivated, all bark; no bite, loyal. He's barely a dog, more like a yipping puppy.

For Satoru, it starts off as innocent admiration. You're strong. You keep your head held high. But you're also kind and generous. You're more than a decade older than him but he's never found someone so beautiful before. 

The emperor doesn't deserve you. 

It devolves into there. You're clearly trapped in your marriage. A beautiful, lonely, empress, locked in an ivory tower, silently begging for help. It doesn't help that you're practically teasing him with every interaction. You laugh at his jokes. Brief touches on his shoulder. Once you reached up to pluck a fallen flower out of his hair. You're in love with him, but you can't do anything about it because of your current marriage and your status. 

Only he can save you. 

Soon, Satoru realizes that once he puts his mind to it, he can do anything. It takes less than a decade for tensions to rise between the crown and the people. The secret of what the king's been doing is out. Using the people's money for whores while children are starving. The revolution bloomed underneath Satoru's fingertips. 

He takes the throne with little difficulty. It helps that the Gojo clan also had a claim to the throne, which only furthered his rule. The day he is crowned, your miserable husband is stripped and hung. 

You're technically a traitor to the throne, but Satoru would rather die than let you see the inside of a dungeon, much less the gallows. You're kept high up in an ivory tower, locked away for only his eyes to see. 

You're a pampered prisoner, but still a prisoner. You aren't allowed to leave, you can't do anything but rot in your silk bedsheets. Such obstruction of freedom is enough to drive anyone to extremes. You're strong, but Satoru is stronger. A month and a half after your husband's death, you finally agree to marry him. 

Even the most loyal dogs bite if their owners starve them enough. 

[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.

[andy-wm]

I’ve just been listening to a podcast about the fabric of reality, and came on here for a bit of downtime. And lo and behold, you’re talking about reality and time passing, and that’s exactly it.

No matter what we think, no matter what we say, or theorise or claim, we don’t alter the truth, and that stands for everything that doesn’t pertain to us.l and our own lives.

I can think the earth is flat till the cows come home (I don’t, obviously) but that doesn’t alter reality. 

Same goes for Jimin and JKs relationship. I’ve seen people claim wild theories, bending and stretching to reach conclusions far outweighing a k drama or blockbuster movie, whereas I personally, think mundanely and simply, that they are together. 

Whose right? We don’t know. 

That’s the truth. We don’t know. 

We may never know, we may find out one day?. 

I’m saying this with a smile on my face because that’s the beauty of life right, as long as we are not harming others, or coming into others spaces and shouting. As long as we aren’t being disrespectful to others, and to Jikooks bond. 

I will say this though, an actual truth people seem to forget or quickly dismiss across the fandom as a whole, is that those men chose to enlist together and whatever we may think of their relationship that is what happened and we should do well to remember that. 

Hey Anon, that's what i call serendipity.

And I love this ask, thank you!

I absolutely agree, what we know - or think we know - has no impact on what truly is.

Even when we believe we know all there is to know, new discoveries and new understanding mean - hopefully - we're constantly learning and reassessing.

When it comes to Jikook, Occam's razor is my go-to: the simplest explanation is, in fact, usually the best. We don't need convoluted plots and schemes and conspiracy theories. There's enough information staring us in the face.

Sometimes we need to untangle that information - I'm not saying we should accept everything on face value - and we do have to look out for new information so we can adjust our understanding.

But that is the case with everything on earth. There is no static knowledge.

These things add layers of richness and complexity but they don't change the basic premise of our underatanding.

That understanding, for me, is that these two humans love each other.

As you say, there ARE things we definitely know, like their companion enlistment.

Like the fact that Jimin chose to have JK with him - next to him - when he talked about his depression on Beyond The Star.

We know Jimin flew 28 hours so he could spend 3 days with JK in NY and Connecticut.

We know that JK was ready to crack Yoongi on the head with a frypan when he though Jimin might have been hurt (by a 5g shuttlecock).

We know that JK never harms Jimin - in all the games and jokes they play, he never targets Jimin (spraying his butt with a watergun is not targeting him, before anyone gets huffy. That did Jimin no harm at all.)

We know that Jimin worried over how hard JK was working.

We know JK begged Jimin shamelessly in front of millions of people, to do a weverse live together.

We know JK watched and hyped all Jimin's footage when he was promoting FACE.

We know they jumped into the comments of one another's livestreams several times last year.

We know all these things, but imagine what we don't know.

There's so much we have no idea about.

Hours and hours of footage that never reaches our screens. Months of time they spend together or alone or with family or friends. That's as it should be - their their private lives are just that - private.

Yes, I have a lot of fun picking apart the little glimpses we get into their lives because i enjoy their dynamic so much and because I'm naturally curious (okay, yes, I'm nosy 🤣).

I look deeper not because I'm hunting for lies or flaws, but because these two delight me. Sure I speculate, but i don't purport to know what they are to each other or where their boundaries lie. And I'm happy not to know. Some things are none of my business.

Like you, Anon, I accept that i may never know the true nature of their relationship, and I'm quite okay with that.

In the end what does it matter?

Whatever they are to each other, they're happy, and honestly what more is there to life than love and happiness?

💜💛