#this community would be a lot better if we all could respect one another. or act like it.

[pyxxiestyxx]

Humans are Made to be Pets

"I don't fucking believe you." I laughed in response. I mean, how could I not? I've been perfectly fine as an independent for years. I've made plenty of friends (independents, affini, AND florets), but my favorite friend was definitely Her.

Jaz was an oldbloom of some kind. She refused to tell me the actual number, and I wasn't going to press it. But you bet your ass I was going to outright deny it when she says some Bloomer-ass bullshit like, "Humans are made to be pets, Petal~"

She tilted her head, as if surprised. "Did no one tell you, dear?" I frowned.

"What do you mean exactly?"

Jaz hid a chuckle behind some vines. "Flower, I've been around for a while. I've seen thousands of species. Some of them were almost extinct by the time we found them, and some were far more technologically advanced than the Accord ever was. But out of all of them -all of them, darling- I have yet to find a sophont who wouldn't make a perfect silly pet. Why do you think terrans would be any different?"

I sputtered. "No! No, that's ridiculous. Beeple I can understand, to some extent. They evolved alongside you, and your reproduction at least used to co-exist. You both needed each other. Humans are different."

"Oh, in some ways perhaps! Its true that we were able to work with beeple, but there are a few things that, in order for humans to have gotten where they were, were required to happen." She held up three fingers.

"One. Humanity are social creatures. I'm quite sure I don't need to argue this point. Its been an observation many have noticed. But it still matters that, despite your culture's best attempts to sequester everyone into individual homes and away from communities…you all crave that interaction, that exchange. You Look for it." One finger went down.

"Two. Humanity are intelligent creatures. They learned so much, and fought for their place on the top of the food chain. It was truly incredible to learn your histories! Being able to learn from another's mistakes? An important skill to have, and one that allows for rapid growth of a civilization. And also allows for you to be manipulated, controlled, really; a rock cannot hear my arguments, after all. You Listen all too well. " Two fingers were closed, now. Her thumb remained.

"Three. Humanity are hierarchical creatures. Ever since that whole 'survival of the fittest', terrans seem intent on having everything ranked, everything in relation to the things better or worse than it. It's what worked on Terra, and I don't judge you all for using the tools given to you! But it means, at the end of the day…that culturally speaking? Humanity was going to see itself as either above the Compact, or below it, part of it, inside it." She smiled. "And I think it would be fair to say that the Accord winning was not a valid concern. So when something bigger and stronger comes along? You learn to Accept it."

I was frozen. I didn't…I couldn't…I couldn't think. I was a bubbling mixture of terrified and in awe, looking up at her. My knees wobbled as she gently cupped my cheek, sliding her hand down to my chin.

"Sweet thing~ Its alright. I know that this is a lot to learn, that it sounds scary to you. Perhaps you felt yourself on equal terms to an affini. And in many ways, you are right~ I will always treat you with love and respect, just as I would treat any sophont, any floret. But at the end of the day, my dear…" Her eyes drew me in. There were so many of them, all looking at me. Pinning me underneath their careful stare, somehow both alien and familiar, gentle yet controlling, above me and beside me. Watching as I looked, as I listened, as I accepted.

"An affini's task is to care for pets, and your task is to be cared for~"

[bornwholocker]

Reading flatland and obviously Bill’s home dimension and flatland aren’t exactly the same, but like. Since we don’t know which parts are different I’m just thinking. This is really unorganized and all over the place and probably doesn’t make any sense but

In flatland, it takes a LOT of planning for an equilateral triangle to be born. I’m talking like generations of interbreeding and methods for the fathering isosceles to get as close to equilateral as possible. It’s a huge deal. When an equilateral is created, it’s celebrated by pretty much everyone (for a miriad of different reasons but I won’t get into that). And being “irregular” in any respect is one of the worst things you can be. If you don’t “fix” your irregularity enough, you’re executed.

So imagine Bill’s family working their triangular asses off to have an equilateral kid, to give him a better life, and when they finally do it, he’s got that eye. From what we’ve seen of his parents, they seem to have taken care of him as best they could, but again, it’s been a whole ordeal just to have him, involving the whole community and family, and he came out wrong.

I imagine that’s probably why his parents took him to see the doctor and drink the “juice” that messed with his vision. They thought they were doing what was best for him. They didn’t blame him for his eye, didn’t hate him for it, but they felt the need to fix him, either to please their families or even just bring him to their own standards. The idea of irregularity being wrong is seen as natural and obvious, so they wouldn’t find an issue with trying to change him.

Another thing about flatland is that the mention of any third dimension or any idea close to that is pretty much criminal. (Spoilers i guess) The narrator of the story, a square who saw the third dimension for himself, is eventually locked away for talking about it.

So Bill was supposed to be a sort of miracle baby, I guess is the best way to put it. And when he came out just slightly but irreparably wrong, it was devastating. And then he starts spouting about 3D and the stars and he just wants people to understand, to see that it’s not dangerous, that it’s beautiful. But his parents don’t want him to get imprisoned or worse, so they try to keep him quiet. They give him his juice and his silly straws and wave away any ideas about the third dimension.

Bill was born a disappointment, one of the lowest life forms imaginable, and the only way he was gonna get anywhere in life was by losing his stars forever. He was told that the thing right in front of him wasn’t real, that he should stop talking about it, that he could get in trouble. So he had to show everyone that he was right. He would be a hero! He would be the kid who finally discovered where the light came from, something no scientist had ever gotten close to figuring out!

But in the end his parents were right. It was too dangerous. God bill tragic backstory is so ougrhhhhj grabs alex hirsch by the shoulders and shakes him

[discofama]

I love how comfortable Adam and Lute are around each other.

I mean, look at this

So they're casually together during the extermination, much like how friends gravitate towards each other when in an event even if they're not talking or doing anything, just because it feels easier than being alone. Or perhaps Lute flew closer because she saw the huge war machine approaching Adam and got a little worried.

Charlie and Vaggie are going to attack them, and look at what they do:

Despite being Adam the one closer to Vaggie, he doesn't move an inch. They don't say anything (besides the shit talk) and Adam doesn't even look at her, he expects Lute will take care of Vaggie with no order from him, even if he's closer.

Obviously Adam is confident and doesn't think Vaggie can hurt him at all, but he clearly trusts Lute to get her out of the way. He probably knows how bloodthirsty Lute is for Vaggie and lets her have her without a word, and Lute complies, again, without a word, leaving him to handle the strongest of the enemies at that moment (Charlie).

So in this second, Adam and Lute communicated in silence. Adam didn't move and trusted her to cut in even if it was him the one under attack, and finally Lute trusted him to handle Charlie so she could fight Vaggie, as she didn't seem worried at all of the possibility of Charlie coming to protect her girlfriend.

They're in harmony. They're just natural together.

He lets her grab him like this and is willing to listen to her. It's clear he respects her and deep down appreciates that she'll keep him from doing something stupid, even if he whines.

She also climbs him? Lol. (Look at how she holds onto his arm 🥹 she's super comfortable with touching him!)

They're always hyping each other up, like in their songs:

(Look at Lute's smug face here 👇, she's sooo satisfied with what Adam's saying)

I honestly believe that they kinda make each other worse, that neither of them would be SO mean all the time if they didn't have the other: a companion who is always backing them up, who agrees on any crap that comes out of their mouth (Lute lets him talk shit about random women and nods, Adam goes along with Lute's homophobia despite seeming to not care that much about homosexuals).

Many portray Lute being a lot smarter than Adam, but I think they're both dumbasses. I mean, we laugh at Adam for saying he never made a mistake in his fucking life, but it was Lute who first stated angels don't make mistakes, somehow keeping a serious face. I think Lute seems smart because she's more quiet and cares about the rules, but she doesn't do logic very well either and can be impulsive too, as shown in the end of ep. 1.

They're probably each other's best/only friend, because they're just so unlikeable. And it makes sense they'd deeply care for one another. They care about that person that stands them and agrees with them and actually enjoys being with them. They're always seen together, hanging out even off duty. They clearly have a lot of fun.

I'll be honest. I ship GuitarSpear, I love it, but I don't know if I want it to be canon for 2 reasons:

1. Lute might be a lesbian.

She is so repulsed by homosexuals that it feels personal. Talking about how disgusting and blasphemous Charlie and Vaggie's love is, or how many cocks were in Angel's mouth and calling him a whore. She cares too much about it for it to not be personal, and I think it makes sense that she'd be a closet lesbian with a shit ton of internalized homophobia. She probably knew about Vaggie's sexuality and held a lot of resentment towards her before tearing off her wings. Maybe she was even attracted to her and was so repulsed about it that she redirected her self-hatred to Vaggie.

2. I think it could be better for Adam's character.

Let's just think about it. This character has a very distorted view of women, he has a fixation on them and hypersexualizes them. So the idea of this horny man, who always sees women with sex colored glasses, being good friends with a hot female below him in the hierarchy with no sexual or romantic interest whatsoever is nice to me. It'd work as sort of a redeeming quality in regards of his relationship with women, and I personally think this man is very redeemable. Let's hope he gets a second chance!

Still! All of this trust and comfort and team feelings can be read as romantic and I certainly wouldn't mind if it becomes canon! They could be the best villain couple!

Summarizing, these two are soulmates, end of the story. They're worse together, but also probably provide the other of a very needed company.

I have no clue if Adam will actually come back, but if he doesn't, I'll feel very bad for Lute. Yeah, yeah, she's an evil bitch, I don't care.

[lycandrophile]

god, stuff like this is such a punch to the gut. i usually don’t feel that emotionally affected by comments like this other than being angry at them, but it’s so different when it’s someone i genuinely really respect, who seems to be very conscious of these things, who’s making a point of being a vocal ally, and they still just don’t see how people really treat us.

so much of the current legislation against trans healthcare (i would argue the vast majority of it, if not literally all of it) is founded upon denial of our bodily autonomy and fearmongering about our transitions. people call us predators and abusers for having and feeding our children. a huge number of people pretty recently jumped on a singular incidence of violence as “proof” that testosterone turns us all into evil monsters. people talk about how we’re stealing our bodies from them and say that if they could just grope us or have sex with us, we’d see that we’re really women. we ask for something as simple as the use of language that includes us so that we can better access the healthcare we need, and even that is asking too much.

but sure, people don’t really have a problem with us being men, so everyone can just stop bothering with affirming that we are who we say we are because clearly people are already on board with that idea, right?

and of course, it’s upsetting on a personal (one might say parasocial) level because it just sucks to see someone you respect openly state that they don’t think the things happening to your community are really happening. that was the initial reaction i had — i know this is one person, a fallible person, who i have no true relationship with, but it still feels like a betrayal of some sort to read that.

the thing that really gets me, though, is that there are a lot of people who trust him (whether rightly or not) to be a good source of info, and a lot of those people are going to see this and just take it at face value. they’re not going to look into it, they’re just going to accept that people really don’t have a problem with us and they’re going to feel empowered to look the other way when we’re under attack. i’m sure he wouldn’t want people to take the things he says at face value without fact-checking them, but the fact remains that most people will do just that and will proceed to not give a shit about us because they don’t think they have to.

it’s one thing to see this coming from some random person. it’s another entirely when it’s someone you already liked and respected, and who has a large audience who are likely to trust the things they say.

and it just…would’ve been so easy to not say it, to just say “they’re men!” and let that message stand without immediately undermining its importance.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Merchant, what are some headcanons you have about silentlily/mystic cacao? (Aside from the ones we alr have, which I’m rlly grateful for btw🧚‍♀️) maybe even a small fic with one of these ships(I’m definitely not STARVED of content of these guys)

Do you think they have a change at redemption, and if so, would they be together with their respective ancients?

Also just so you know I got converted into the burning cheese cult the day I read your first ao3 fic about the ship, I was amazed by the writing and was craving for more, actually I’m the person named “cracker” that commented on your fics.

Thanks for feeding us with your amazing ideas 🙏🙏

CRACKER??? IS THAT REALLY YOU???

I'm so happy to hear from you again 😭😭😭 where have you been, I've missed you and your comments on my fics 😭😭😭 I love chatting with you man, it's so nice that you found me here

While I can't provide any fics right this second (my fic backlog is HUGE; for multiple stories/AUs/ships, not just BurningCheese. First one in line is a BurningCheese fic I've been sitting on for 2 months+ now. First chapter coming to AO3 soon (as in... tomorrow 👀)), I can provide headcanons at the very least. 3 each, for my old buddy 🫵❤️

Silent Salt never, ever takes off his helm. He is deeply uncomfortable showing his face to anyone, even his friends (it took them forever to learn what he looks like, even after literal years of friendship). The fact that he is not only willing to show his face to White Lily, but let her touch and remove his helm herself (that is HUGE), is a true testament to how much he trusts and cares for her

Silent Salt loves White Lily's hair. He thinks it's absolutely beautiful. She taught him how she braids it so he can do it for her, which he does every so often

I hc Silent Salt as being completely mute (like, he can't make any noise at all. As if he has no vocal cords, period. You can hear him breathing and that's it) and primarily using movement/body language to communicate his thoughts and feelings (and sign language as well, although he uses that to carry on longer and more articulate conversations). White Lily took the time to teach herself sign language so she could understand and communicate with him better, which he finds deeply touching as very, very few people have ever done that for him or anything nice at all really. Letting my personal characterization of + backstory for him slip a little here haha

While Dark Cacao and Mystic Flour are not particularly romantic (it's just not really who they are, nothing to do with not liking each other), they will both still make little gestures for each other. They take care to make each other's favorite tea, just how they like it. Flour will tuck stray strands of Cacao's hair back behind his ears when she notices them (and she always does. She pays closer attention to his face than anyone realizes). Cacao always asks Flour how her day has been, or if something is bothering her (he, too, is attentive to her face and facial expressions, and does notice subtle changes (which is also huge bc Flour wears the same damn face almost all the time lol)). Small things that actually mean quite a lot, because they stem from genuine love that does not need words or grand gestures to make itself known and understood

They are very polite and patient with one another, even when they're disagreeing (or even arguing). They will never talk over each other; they wait until the other has finished saying what they have to say before they respond. They feel a deep mutual respect for one another as individuals and try to maintain this, regardless of how tense their interactions may become

They sometimes exchange keepsakes unique to their cultures, as tokens of affection to hold onto and admire while they're apart. Scrolls, paintings, idols. Small things not really meant to take up space; just things that turn their heads or draw their eyes over for a moment and make them smile when they walk past them in the palace/Ivory Pagoda

Really makes me smile to see you again, dude. You really were there since day 1 and I'm grateful. And I'm glad I convinced you to ship BurningCheese in the first place! You and everyone else honestly 😂 it's both awesome and hilarious how many people have come to me saying I converted them to the ship. I feel I like I'm amassing a private militia lol. Gonna murder all other ships involving either character in their sleep. Gonna storm Devsis HQ and seize control of the writers' room. Gonna hoard nuclear weapons and take over the world

I hope you enjoy the stories I've written on here as well! They're mostly wholesome because as fun as Yandere Spice is, I genuinely do ship Burning Spice with Golden Cheese and want them to be happy and healthy, which is why I mainly prescribe them a slow burn romance + slow burn redemption arc for Spice lmao (they're all tagged #merchant shorts for ease of access. There are 9 in total I think. With more in the oven, because I keep forgetting to put my imagination on a leash most of the time. Trying to slowly work my way up to their wedding) I also hope you like the fan babies 👉👈 I put a lot of time and effort into creating them (please ignore my lack of artistic talent, I will improve eventually. Hopefully. I make up for it with my writing in the meantime), they're my little blorbo grandchildren

(As for that other question of yours... In my main canon + my Reformed Beasts AU (which... are kind of the same ngl lmao), yes, Flour and Salt can change. Any bad person can change their ways if only they cared enough to do so. It takes time and great effort, but eventually, they both turn over a new leaf, as all the Beasts do. As for whether or not they get together with their Ancients... wait and see. I like SilentLily and MysticCacao, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll happen. You'll find out as I dump more stupid lore on here lol)

[callmearcturus]

valonia47: IMO Dottie taught Ted avoidance and denial as the only allowed coping skills, which is how he ends up in England in the first place: avoiding the conflict and denying how bad his marriage has gotten. In that sense returning to Kansas is Ted breaking out of that and reconnecting with Henry on a regular basis instead of avoiding the inherent reminders of his relationship with his dad

two problems with this take, if you'll forgive my need to make a rebuttal.

ONE: Ted winding up in England because of conflict avoidance and denial is not how I read the situation at all. Hell, I don't think a man can move to another country without knowing things are bad, and every time he brings up Michelle, it's regarding the trouble in their marriage.

also, uh

given the entire fuckery with Dr. Jacob, I don't know if I actually agree at all with that take. Ted winds up in England because a pretty serious betrayal of trust.

this is one of the most interesting things the show does imo. like when Ted first talks about therapy and is dismissive/negative on it, I literally went "ah another otherwise progressive midwestern man who nonetheless doesn't like therapy" because bruh that's a thing for sure

and then ted tells sharon about his history of therapy and I was like "okay that's a little unusual but cmon ted you're better than this"

and then the fucking slap in the face happens and oh my fuck, Ted was right, he was manipulated by a fucking therapist holy shit, like all of his hesitations are entirely justified.

TWO: For Kansas to feel like a success for Ted, a LOT of shit would have needed to be done differently.

a. he needed to make the choice of his own volition, not because his mother pulled That Shit on him as punishment.

b. the show needed to actually show Kansas as living place that has support systems and people Ted loves. WHICH TO BE CLEAR: THE SHOW COULD HAVE DONE. fuck, if you want to read a fic that actually makes Ted moving back to Kansas make sense, I highly recommend Lafayette Goes To America, which I vouch for as a Missouri native is a loving and wonderful depiction of KCMO and why you'd want to live there.

c. why the fuck did they do that creepy fucking musical sting on the final shot of ted in kansas? i watched it with a friend who'd never seen the finale and they fucking gasped at it.

d. and this is a huge one for me is the trick each season with the opening/closing shots.

each season opens and closes on one character in a very deliberate move, like a reminder that you should be focusing on this person and the journey they've been on.

and it's not a necessarily positive journey.

with Rebecca, we watched her through season one transform from a hurt, vengeful, cruel person who was thrilled to ruin the lives of everyone around her if it helped her meet her goals into someone who finally recognized the gravity of their callousness.... but not before her actions led to the team being relegated.

with Nate, we watched him blossom as a tactician and strategist, and he winds up the head coach of West fucking Ham by the end..... but in the process, he loses everyone who supported him and he repeatedly fails to recreate those relationships in S3

with Ted, the show holds me down and kicks me repeatedly in the stomach until i admit i love a good tragedy I MEAN ted is successful, loved, respected, and supported by the people around him, he continues to work on himself in this place that he comes to adapt to and love... and instead of him asking "hey maybe i should review my custody arrangement and ask my son if he'd like to live here with me" he loses ALL OF THAT

there's this moment that makes the pain worse, this little (intentional? unintentional?) jab rebecca gives him. she begged this man to stay, offered to make him the best paid coach in the league, to personally assist in helping his family join him here, and he leaves.

it's a rejection. it's a rejection of richmond as meaningful, as people who love him, as his community and family. it hurts so fucking much.

none of them were worth trying for, ted? not rebecca, who held you tight when you had a panic attack? not trent, who detonated his career after shielding you from a press shitstorm? not roy, who came back to you and fucking quoted Jerry Maguire to your face, choosing to speak your language? fucking hell.

I blame Dottie for this, for how she looks at all the process Ted's made, resents it, and tears him back down. but the refutation of these people and their worth is part of the tragedy.

ANYWAY UH. I RESPECTFULLY DISAGREE. SORRY.

[victoriansecret]

Servants and Upward Mobility

This is focused on paid servants in England in the mid-late 18th century. One thing I find fascinating about the structure of domestic service roles was the existence of what essentially we might call a career ladder today. It was not uncommon for a servant to start their career near the bottom of the hierarchy as, say, a boot boy who cleans the shoes and boots of the household, or the scullery maid who does all the dirty kitchen work like scrubbing iron cooking vessels or plucking chickens, but progressively move up the list to better positions.

Part of why this was the case was that it was typical in England to hire servants for one year terms at a time. Often they'd be hired at festivals on the quarter days of the year, which as part of the festivities would often include what today we'd call a job fair. For some reason, Michaelmas (September 29) seems to be the most common as far as I can tell. I had never really thought about why that might be until I started planning this post, and I now wonder if it might have something to do with that being right around when harvest time usually comes in England. I could easily imagine people, especially young people, being on the cusp of another labourious harvest and thinking that maybe they could find another job instead. Related tangent: There are a number of remarks in the period that servants from the northern parts of England were considered to be much more respectful than servants from more populated, urban areas. Those communities were (at least considered to be) a lot stricter about remembering one's place and respecting your social 'betters', and their behaviour as servants was believed to reflect that. Some people would actively have their agents look to hire people from those rural areas, and apparently it was easy to attract potential employees: there are a number of remarks about how when a fancy carriage would drive through a small town, with the fancily-liveried footmen riding on the back, it would bring young people to stare in awe and want to be part of that. Which as someone whose interest in domestic service started in part because of my obsession with livery, I can understand. Anyway, back to the main point: because they often served one-year terms, there was an annual chance for both parties - the servant and the served - to review and determine how to move forward. A servant who was favoured might negotiate for a new position in the household, at least one step higher on the ladder (if not more), and they had leverage because they could leave the field entirely or possibly go off to a new household and find a higher position there. There was also a practice of asking for your master or mistress to provide a "character", essentially what we would today call a reference: a letter to show potential employers detailing their behaviour and skill in their role. Certainly there were times that some employers refused to give a good character, and sometimes that was explicitly because they wanted to keep the servant because they were a valuable asset to their household, but it was considered part of the obligation of the master class to be honest in these.

And it is not at all uncommon to find people who have served many different people/households throughout their career. The most I have seen is 28, although that's slightly misleading: that was a man who decided he wanted to travel, so hired himself to gentleman going on journeys for the duration of the trips, many of which were only a couple months. (The book he published, which he wrote about his travels and the "exotic" places and people he encountered, is interesting, and for my purposes super helpful because he turned out to be a narcissist and wrote a lot about himself, including his career as a servant. It's the only quasi-memoir of a paid servant from this time I am aware of. I might write a post about it/him sometime. I digress.) [continued in next post]

[dissociation-station123]

Fallen

First time writing a monster type fic!! I hope it is enjoyable! This was written specifically for a Monster Mash collaboration event created by @nanamiscocksleeve

Thank you so much for allowing me to participate!!! Appreciate all who read!!

Love and Deepspace:

SylusXFemReaderXZayne-With a monster twist revealed at the end! 😆

Warnings: Corruption; Oral; A small taste of sadistic Sylus;

~~

The sun was slowly disappearing, the remaining rays coating the area in front of you in a beautiful deep orange. A cool breeze caressed your skin. The leaves were now changing colors. A gorgeous scene. You sip on a hot cider, burning your tongue slightly. It should be relaxing but a heavy sigh escapes your lips instead.

“Rough day sweetie?” A voice interrupts your internal frustrations. You look up from where you sat on your porch. Your neighbor towers over you with a bottle of whiskey in hand. Those reddish eyes are always playful no matter the topic.

Behind him stood your dark haired neighbor, he looked at you from behind the other man’s shoulder emotionless. Yet his steady gaze always seemed to bore into your soul each time you met, judging you.

The two men moved next door about a year ago. When you first saw them together you had to do a double take. Their beauty was otherworldly. Both of them were tall and built like professional athletes. The contrasting hair caught your attention, one had deep black the other a striking white.

Like the rest of the neighborhood you figured they would keep to themselves. You weren’t nosey so after the initial peek you went about your day. You assumed they would never interact with you.

To your surprise a few days later both men showed up with welcome to the neighborhood gifts. Zayne, the dark haired man brought a delectable dessert and Sylus, now up close you could not look away from the reddish tint of his eyes, of course a nice whiskey.

You made a teasing remark about how you were the one who should be bearing offerings since they were new here. They both glanced at each other as if communicating telepathically.

After a few seconds Sylus gave you an easy going shrug and Zayne a stern glance while holding up the bag for you to take. You opened your door and allowed them entry. Since then they always came over on Fridays to chat and catch up.

After your mind reminisces about how you became close to the pair, you hold out your hand for the bottle and Sylus chuckles giving it to you. Zayne, always statuesque, frowns. You twist the cap and take a long sip straight from the bottle. The burn causes you to wince but once settled the warmth blankets you comfortingly.

“I never quite grasp how if you do well at your job you're rewarded with more work.” You mutter feeling the irritation of your day surface once again.

“Mind if we?” Sylus motions at the two other chairs on your porch and you shake your head. They each take their place beside you.

“It’s good that they recognize your talent. Doing your best is never a bad thing.” Zayne says softly, you lift up the bottle for him to take but he shakes his head. His eyebrows pull together in disgust. You shrug and take another sip.

“Please!! That’s bullshit. That company just cares about the bottom line. You should quit.” Sylus interrupts a scowl on his pretty face. “Loyalty is for suckers.”

You groan, taking yet another sip, this one longer than the last. “I know I could but I have a lot of vacation days.” You always do this. Talk yourself out of change and risk.

“You earned those. You're a diligent worker. And your colleagues respect you.” Zayne adds his calm demeanor strangely comforting tonight.

“The owners could give two shits about you. They would replace you in an instant. You need to think about yourself.” Sylus glares over at Zayne and you laugh. Both of their eyes widen at the sound.

“I appreciate you both for attempting to make me feel better. I’m a helpless people pleaser. We all know I’m not going to leave.” You sigh, leaning into the chair and pulling your legs up to hug against you.

Both men look at you with a sullen expression. “Don’t look at me like that; you two.” You grumble hating the pitiful sight. The tension in your shoulder causes you to wince. Sylus leans forward his beautiful face to close.

“You know I could ease that stress right out of you sweetie.” His voice was low and seductive. You wish you could say you have grown accustomed to his flirtatious way but that tone still sent a shiver down your spine like a spell. You stare up at him stunned but eventually shake yourself free and smack his arm. “What?! I meant a good massage. These hands are magic.”

You look at his large hands and again your mind wanders to not so innocent thoughts. Those long fingers were almost unbelievable, the lengths they could reach. “Y/N…” Sylus calls to you teasingly and you snap out of your trance. “What were you thinking about naughty thing?”

“N-nothing…” you look away glad that he could not read your thoughts. The liquor was not the only thing making your cheeks heat up. “Shut up.” You grumble and choose a safer place to stare. Zayne looks at you, worry written on his face.

“Are you feeling well?” Zayne asks, reaching up and touching your forehead. You slap his arm away in embarrassment. His innocent expressions were always so damn cute.

“I’m fine!” You say a bit too loudly. Sylus chuckles at your behavior, deeming you guilty. You groan and lean back too quickly, you grimace at the pain that shoots up your back. “Maybe I could use a massage.”

Sylus’s expression brightens a bit and you raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Sweetie don’t you trust me?” You shake your head aggressively and he chuckles.

“Smart.” Zayne speaks out his tone flat. You laugh and look over amused to see no expression.

“You all want to go inside. These chairs don’t help my back one bit.” You complain and both men nod in agreement. Their large frames hang off awkwardly. “See if there is a movie or something.”

You stand and Sylus leads the way. Before you can cross the threshold Zayne grabs your shoulder lightly. You look over to him and concern is etched on his features. “Did you eat?” He pointedly looks down at the liquor bottle still in hand.

You smile at him. Though he is not as up front as Sylus could be; you knew he truly cared. His actions were always endearing. You pat his shoulder in return. “Yeah I promise.” He simply nods, gesturing for you to enter.

You all have found a mundane comedy to watch as you lounge with Sylus on the couch. Zayne in the recliner, he always kept you at a slight distance. Sylus on the other hand has no comprehension of personal space.

“Let me…” Sylus leaned down to whisper into your ear. You glare up at him, to tired and exhausted for his teasing at this point. “Don’t look at me like that sweetheart. I promised a massage. Let me deliver on that.”

You study, glancing up into those deep red eyes suspiciously. A fake pout decorates his lips but he is always persistent once he promises something. “Fine…” you grumble as he pulls you between his long legs as soon as you agree.

You tense up the moment his hands feel along your shoulder and down your back. “Relax… Just trying to assess what area needs the most attention.” He purrs and you shut your eyes to attempt to follow his instructions. “So much tension built up. You're a sorry case, love.”

You laugh as he chuckles along with you. “Would you say it’s pointless then?” You ask as his thumbs rest gently at your shoulder blades. You brace yourself for the pressure but he clicks his tongue at you as he softly pushes down and up.

“Never pointless.” He reassures you as you melt into his moderate ministrations, kneading upward to your neck. You let out the breath you were holding. “Good… finally relaxing.” Sylus cooes and you feel a lazy smile form.

He works out the knots with ease, you're practically putty now. his fingers glide along your spine as he continues to praise you. You try your best not to make a sound but the longer he kneaded and caressed the more difficult it became. You curse how touch starved you had become.

Sylus applies a strong amount of pressure onto the side of your hip and you gasp out loud. Your hands reach out to grab his thigh and his mocking laughter follows your reaction. “That was such a cute sound. Give me more…” His tone turns seductive and you swallow heavily.

His large arms encase you as his hands run along your stomach playfully. His fingers slide upward tentatively. “Sylus…” Your tongue felt heavy, your eyes drooping closed, and your mind hazy as you attempted to protest. He does pause from moving any further. A part of you so tempted to give in.

“There is no judgment from me, treasure. Just say yes and I’ll make you feel so good.” His voice was a lullaby, enticing and temptation personified. His touch felt amazing and it had been so long. You find yourself nodding and yet he does not move. “I have to hear you say it sweetie.”

“Yes Sylus! Please!” You whine and he makes a deep sound from his throat at your declaration. His large hands quickly slide under your bra, his thumb running along your already hardened nipples. You moan your head falling back against his chest. He hums pleased with your response. Pinching the buds to elicit another cry from your lips.

You want to bury your head in shame but you were unable to think. You make a pathetic sound when you feel him lean down to kiss along your neck. His tongue makes lazy circles on a patch of sensitive flesh. “I love how reactive you are being. It's been a while, hasn't it, love?” You nod, crying out for him. “Poor thing.”

His left hand kneads your breast as the other moves down your stomach again. Lower until his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweat pants. You whine lifting your hips for easier access. You grumble as he takes his time. You are too enraptured by the pleasure that you pull off your bottoms for him and he chuckles amused. “Please!” You beg looking up through lidded eyes and gulp at how his eyes have darkened with lust.

Your eyes remain locked onto his as his fingers slide lower, finally rubbing along your already wet folds. Your moan echoes across the room. “Do you not have any shame?” Stylus’s tone becomes a bit sinister as your eyebrows knit in confusion. He slowly inserts his middle finger into your cunt and your back arches.

“F-fuck…” you curse still a bit confused by his words. Your body begins to move against his hands slow and steady thrusts, longing for a sweet release. Sylus grins down at you, the hand that was stimulating your breast moves to take hold of your chin.

“Did you forget sweetie,” his thumb slides across your lower lip. “We aren’t alone.” Your eyes widen as he pulls your chin to look across the room. Your clouded mind had forgotten that Zayne sat across from you. Your heart races in panic and you squirm in Sylus’s hold.

As your vision adjusts you meet Zayne’s golden eyes. “Y/N…” He calls your name, it sounds almost painful and you cringe at the disappointment it holds. Yet there was something else there, was it longing? His perfect jaw was clenched tightly.

Sylus laughs, cruely at the situation, your arousal loud as he removes his finger from your hole and slides up to rub your aching clit. Your legs shake and you try to close them but Sylus chastises you. “It’s a bit too late for that. Let him see you fall apart for me. Look closer Y/N he is trying to hold himself back. What a good little Angel.”

You notices Zayne’s hands were wrapped around the arms of the chair, the wood creaking from the pressure. His whole body froze as his breath came out in short gasps. “Y/N…” he calls out your name again this time it was a whimper. “Why?” Sylus parts your lower lips, slick with your juices, giving him a full view. You watch Zayne’s breath hitch.

“You want to taste her, Zayne? Come on see what earthly pleasures feel like on your tongue.” Sylus collects your essence on his finger and sucks it off greedily, a groan escaping. You bit your lower lip enticed by the lewd scene before you. You look back at Zayne, a shiver travels down his body.

“It’s ok…” you surprise yourself when you invite him to join. You lift up your hand to beckon him towards you.

“You do not know what you are doing….” Zayne’s usual calm demeanor has been completely shaken. His voice low and strained as he tries not to move. “What will happen…”

Sylus pulls your shirt above your head and unclasps your bra in a quick motion. You're in his lap bared completely. Sylus roughly takes hold of your thighs and pulls them wider apart. You cry out desperate to be touched again. “Are you going to allow her to suffer?” He addresses Zayne in a dark tone. Zayne’s eyes widen at the sight of all of you. You hear him mutter what sounded like a prayer but your mind was overwhelmed by need.

“Zayne…” You whimper his name and he falls to his knees with a startled cry. “Help…” you call out and he crawls closer. His breath tickles your skin as he now hovers near your outstretched legs. Zayne, as if frightened of your body, slowly slides a finger down your inner knee. You moan at his featherlight touch in contrast to Sylus’s rough grasp on your thighs.

You look at Zayne, your lashes fluttering. With shaky arms you place your hand on his cheek and he leans into your grasp. “You can if you want.” You say comfortingly and you are confused when he curses you so sweetly.

“She is your new master. Worship and praise her.” Sylus says his voice is more of a growl and distorted. Zayne does not look away from but you see some type of inner struggle taking place within him.

“B-Blasphemy…” Zayne mutters weakly as your thumb softly caresses his lower lip. You feel his body tremble and a tear glisten at the corner of his eyes, you swipe it away. “S-Sacrilege…” He takes in every curve of your body with his icy stare.

“Zayne you don’t have…” Before you could tell him it was alright If he did not want to; his lips hungrily began kissing your inner thigh. You keen loudly and whisper Zayne’s name in praise. Sylus laughs sinisterly behind you.

Zayne is now possessed by the taste of your skin. His tongue lolled out sliding down closer. He pauses right next to your needy pussy, admiring the clear slimy liquid oozing out. “Please…” you beg him and he groans at the sound. No longer hesitating he shoves his mouth into your folds, caressing each dip and crease with his tongue. It was messy and you could tell he was not sure what to do but his vigor and desperate whines made up for the inexperience.

“You taste so good…” he cries out against you, he looks up, his face coated. “Divine…” he rambles still fumbling as he sucks greedily. Sylus nibbles at your ear still snickering at the sight of the man between your legs. He finally releases the hold he has on you. He moves back to pinch at your nipple, a sharp pain causes your body to jolt.

His other hand moves between your legs. Slylus’s thumb tracing your clit as Zayne loses himself, sloppy kisses with no accuracy, slurping wet sounds. With all the stimulation your mind begins to lose focus. You gasp when Sylus roughly and suddenly pulls Zayne’s head back by his hair. Zayne groans in frustration, snarling at Sylus.

“Focus! Stop being so selfish.” Sylus chastises Zayne’s feverish movements. “Suck here and watch how she reacts.” He lets go of Zayne and again his fingers tap against your clit, you whine.

Zayne watches your body shake and then nods in understanding. He wraps his lips around the small nub and sucks. You convulse and scream out, your body overreacting due to being edged. Zayne’s eyes widen at your violent response. His tongue is now sliding against the sensitive bundle of nerves, hoping to coax more from you.

“That’s it…” Sylus says as his fingers slide under his chin, lower until they probe your entrance. You no longer comprehend the sounds that escape your lips as he pushes them deeper past the ring of muscle. Zayne moans as he hears you blabbering, increasing his assault. “Good…” you reach out and your fingers entangle into Zayne’s hair as you buck up to meet Sylus’s finger as he adds another.

“You both are so adorable.” Sylus says condescendingly but you hear the rasp in his voice, dripping in pure desire. Your entire body is now tensing up, you were close. Your vision spots and back arches in an awkward angle as you ride against both Zayne’s mouth and Sylus’s expert fingers.

The moment Zayne moans and the vibration shoots up your spine, Sylus curves his finger stroking your spot viciously. You had never felt this before, it was almost too much. You no longer had control as you screamed both their names at the top of your lungs. Your cunt gripping his digits and releasing over and over milking them desperately, your head flys back, ears ringing, as the otherworldly orgasm crashes over you.

You try to breathe to maintain your thoughts after the shock. You feel Sylus slowly remove his fingers but Zayne is still making out with your clit, you whine and attempt to push him away, overstimulated. Your eyes finally adjust, before you could scold Zayne, you cover your mouth at the glorious vision that greets you.

Sprouting from Zayne’s back were massive white wings, majestic and awe inspiring. “What.. mmm Zayne please…” He still lapped you up groaning at the flavor of your cum. As he humps the couch cravenly, you gasp as the feathers begin shifting from the stark white to a deep charcoal.

You are startled by Sylus’s voice in your ear. You watch as he strokes Zayne’s now changed wings, Zayne whimpers as his fingers dance across. “I came for your soul but instead your essence made an ally from my greatest enemy. He has finally fallen from grace.”

You turn to question Sylus and you are frozen in place by his appearance. He wore his usual cocky mischievous grin, his canines protruded into actual fangs. Tall horns decorated his head, a deep shade of brown contrasting his white hair, large spirals. His already large frame seemed to have doubled in size. You flinch as a tail wraps around your thigh. “You are something special. I’ll make you mine like you made him yours.”

[otomes-and-tears]

*grip you by the shoulder* I need your analysis of the relationship between vesper and Keir-

Pretty please 💗

! CHAPTER TWO SPOILERS !

I think the most interesting aspect of Keir and Vesper's relationship is how, despite the circumstances that brought them together, Keir treats Vesper with a surprising level of respect and openness. It’s not something you’d expect in a dynamic like theirs, especially in a setting like the marketplace, where trusting someone—anyone—can be a massive liability.

Vesper is a big liability, after all. Even if they're being blackmailed, even if the reason Keir picks them is because they're disposable, but show promise, it's still a risky decision that doesn't only put his life at risk, but potentially the people in the mouse hole, which he deeply cares about! But the still puts some level of trust in them. Vesper's followed, sure, but he feeds and houses them. He indulges them in banter, lets them poke fun at him even if he complains about how annoying it all is, And most importantly, he answers their questions.

In a place where no one shows their real face, where people don’t even share their real names, information is currency. It’s survival. But he lets Vesper in, just a little. He tells them about himself, about life underground, and makes sure they know enough to stay safe. Even when he withholds things, like the origins of the Ichor, it’s a difficult choice made for a reason.

I think that has a lot to do with, not only his feelings for Vesper, but the community he's surrounded by and how much those values have shaped him. Both his pursuit of doing good or at the very least as good as he can to help as many people as possible and his inherent kindness. As much as Keir insists he isn't a good man, I think it's really fucking clear that he has a strong moral compass, and most of all, a strong will to keep vulnerable, outcasts safe. He goes above and beyond for that goal, and all his actions are informed by that desire to take care of his community.

Vesper is now a part of his community, for better or for worse, and therefore he extends to them the same level of care and respect he'd show to the others. I think one of the things that really struck me was how we get to see the people in the mouse hole, and most importantly, Keir's inner circle, warming up to Vesper! They include them in their day-to-day chores and welcome them relatively quickly. They're all keeping an eye out for the ichor they oh so desperately need, because in a lot of ways, Vesper is just like them. Another outcast, another person in desperate need of that support and community. I like to think that maybe Keir saw that in them too.

They might not fully realise the weight of it, seeing as how the marketplace's culture differs from the surface's, but Keir is painfully aware of all of this all along.

I think especially of the scene where Vesper opens up about their condition. It's a pivotal moment. In a place like the marketplace, that kind of information falling into the wrong hands could be downright catastrophic. But it's easy for them to open up about it, to show Keir that level of trust. This information exposes their fragility, their desperation. And most of all, they're exposing it to their blackmailer. It would be so easy for Keir to turn this show of trust against them, it's easy ammo. But he doesn't. He listens, he empathises.

I think that's the point where things really shift for them. It's a little moment but I think it's so important to shape how their subsequent relationship, and most of all, I think it's what makes his betrayal by keeping the truth about lunar ichor even more painful to Vesper.

[cloud-somersault]

Something that absolutely destroys me about shadowpeach is just the fact that they weren't "good" to each other. They loved each other, sure, but sometimes love just isn't enough.

They are "right person wrong time." They helped each other unintentionally go into a self-destructive paths, and the worst part is that only Wukong managed to get out of it before it ruined him.

Its just so fucked up, imagine you love someone and they love you but they are undeniably going into a path with no return but they do change and they become better, but only after you're gone.

Yeah, I think shadowpeach is compelling and interesting for the layers of tragedy it has. I really do think they're the "right person, wrong time" type of dynamic. If they met each other later on, there wouldn't have been any major problems; just ones they could address as they come up.

But I think...it's a great showing of how people can change each other. A chance interaction can change a person for life. We, as people, are made up of those interactions, the pain, the hurt, the love, the joy we've been shown and what we've given to others.

Wukong and Macaque were doing what they felt was right. In the way they felt was right. And they didn't know how to address it or be better, because confronting the communication issues and lack of respect and value means admitting there's a problem, and neither of them wanted to do that.

I don't think Macaque wanted to, he just wanted to put up with it and stay on Wukong's good side. He disregarded his own hesitations and doubts and believed in this person wholeheartedly instead of making his own decisions and choosing to go against the grain. It's hard to say "no" to the Monkey King, admittedly, but Macaque, probably, felt as if he couldn't.

In s4, he subtly tried to remove himself from the uprising against Heaven, but Wukong dragged him back in on the premise that they're "bros" and it'll be a fun "whatever" kind of time and not a life or death situation. Macaque saw that truth; Wukong refused to.

And that's a lot of Wukong's whole story - thinking he's invincible, that he's above everyone, that he's the handsomest and strongest and best ever. he was entitled and didn't like being told no. Very haughty and spoiled. A brat. He had sense and was funny and showed kindness when he needed to, but he was selfish, also.

Against all that, Macaque's in an odd position. They're friends, but Macaque is quiet. He's subtle. A shadow. Introverted and observant, he probably never felt as if his voice mattered or would change anything. But getting the attention of the Monkey King is a high honor!

And Wukong just thought Macaque was cool, another strong guy with shadow magic that he could get into mischief with. Someone like him!!

It reminds me of a dynamic you see a lot in media. The adventurous main character paired with a more shy and scared secondary character. The main character drags them around unwillingly into situations, assuring the secondary character everything will be fine. And, eventually, it takes the secondary character standing up for themselves for a change to occur.

And that's what happened in that cave.

There is tragedy...in someone you love changing after you're no longer in their life. But...it's more important that they changed at all. A lot of people don't. It's difficult to change. And Wukong was traveling (and was trapped) in this journey with people, learning and humbling himself along the way, learning friendship and love. It took that specific environment and discipline to change him, because changing the Monkey King?? Is a huge task, something that Macaque by himself couldn't do.

And that's said around this fandom like it's a bad thing. I know Macaque would see it as one, because that's his character, but...I don't know. I don't see it as one. Maybe you're not what that person needs, not at that moment, not at that time. And that's..okay. I think that's something we gotta accept.

Because we can't fix everyone. We can't hold ourselves to that standard. Just as I said before, people are collections of their interactions with others, and maybe those other people...are what Wukong needed at that moment. Maybe Macaque wasn't at a point in his life, maturity wise or life experience wise, to direct Wukong on the path to change. Maybe that wasn't his burden to bear.

Sometimes it takes a specific person to say something. With how people weave in and out of each others lives, I think the takeaway should be more "I'm glad you changed. I'm proud of you. You did it!" Like, let's focus on the end result, because...if people change for the better, than they can help others change, and maybe Wukong is the right person at this right time to help Macaque change.

[almostfini]

Ableism but make it leftist

Maybe I'll think of a catchier title later but rn I need to talk about this before I boil away with rage.

Context: someone in my local queer community FB group asked for volunteer opportunities. They expressed particular interest in working with the elderly or "people who need the most help". There were only a couple suggestions when I saw the post so I added mine, that there's several underserved young (younger than elderly anyway) queer people in our community who are severely disabled and housebound. I'm one of them though I didn't mention it but the Leftist Bully knows this.

Another disabled group member I've interacted with before thanked me for bringing this up and I felt good about it until a couple days later when I got a new notification. LB, as I'll call them, was smugly concerned that we (me and my Disabled Acquaintance) were taking resources from queer elders.

Point #1. We weren't using any resources, we were just expressing a community need to someone who asked who in the community has needs...

LB continued that there are "so many" resources we could be using instead which is news to me! They then made a point to tag both me and DA and tell us that "if we're so lonely why don't we just meet up with seniors". I considered going over point by point why they were being ignorant at best but I decided to save my energy and politely asked them not to speak so condescendingly about topics they aren't familiar with. Cue the laugh react. So we're not even pretending to care anymore, great.

They respond with a lengthy paragraph about how they are qualified to determine who gets resources or not because of all the organizing they do. They insisted again that there are other resources, and pay attention to this, "for young queers". Dude... There sure are resources for young queers but

Point #2. THAT'S NOT WHAT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT YOU CHUCKLEFUCK. We were specifically talking about housebound queer people who aren't old enough for social security resources.

Point #3. You can't cry tone policing when you were the one who butted into a conversation to "correct" someone over what was allegedly a resource management dispute. I mean apparently you can and they did but it's pretty ridiculous

Re: citing their community organizing record and heavily implied that DA and I are not contributing to the same degree

Point #4a. DA and I are both very active in disability organizing. We both run pages/groups for raising awareness and connecting people to resources as well as one on one assisting people.

4b. We're both severely disabled and housebound, that kind of gets in the way of a lot of activism. I used to do a lot more when my health was better.

4c. Leftists like to talk big, "your productivity doesn't define your worth" until someone isn't able to do whatever type of labor that supposedly makes people respectable.

Point #5. Concern trolling. If they really cared they would have kindly directed me to some concrete resources instead of lecturing me to shut up

Point #6. They didn't have a problem with the person who brought up volunteering at the animal shelter.

Point #7. LB requests rides from the community on a weekly basis. The community rallied around them when they lost their home to a fire last year. They are absolutely in their right to do this! It's just telling how it's ok for them to ask for help. And to top it off I've been consistently signal boosting them and recommending their freelance services, expending my limited resources to help them. I thought we were becoming friends.

[weveseenallthegreenery]

The Comfort of the Commune — Mel Medarda seeks out Viktor after discovering her arcane talents.

sfw | part 2 | 2224 words | hurt/comfort | shortfic | alternate season 2 | loosely edited | featuring mel’s mommy issues

I pulled my hands over each other, tugging on his hair as I made sure the daisies were stuck in place. Viktor started letting me do his hair every day, and he had even gotten some furniture so that I would feel more comfortable in his home… though, I did end up staying for much longer than I’d initially intended to. The company was just too good to pass up.

I helped him out with the garden behind his house every day. I watched as he listened to the wants and needs of his people. I held his hand as he struggled with the momentary pains of keeping the entire commune running. He helped me learn how to control the arcane a little better—however, most of it was instinct. I enjoyed my life here, and it didn’t feel like it was time to go back yet.

I hummed as I tied the end of his hair with a clipped vine, “There… another day where you look absolutely stunning.”

“All thanks to you,” he smiled in the mirror’s reflection. It looked like he was looking at himself, but something felt odd about the movement of his eyes. He wasn’t quite looking at himself, but he wasn’t looking at me or our surroundings either. How peculiar.

I stepped away from him before heading to the kitchen to grab some fruit. He had offered to take my hunger away, but I told him that I couldn’t bear to lose the parts of me that were still human. He didn’t understand, but he respected my wishes and said that it was alright as long as I wasn’t in any pain. So, I ate a lot of the food that came out of the garden.

It had been days since I had any meat because we weren’t allowed to hunt or kill here in the commune. It was seen as corrupt and impure to kill without cause. If we had a cause, though, it didn’t seem like he would mind sparing a few innocent lives for what he considered righteous. He was a very contradictory man, and it was one of the things that made me feel so attached to him. It was one of the things that made him what I needed right now.

In the first moments of my heartache, all I wanted was Jayce. Despite the fact that he abandoned me, despite the fact that I had used him for my own advantage a year ago, he was all that I felt I needed. However, no matter how much I cared for him, Jayce was a simple man in the time that I knew him. He had one major passion, was great at giving advice, and was dedicated to his family and his people. All lovely qualities, but I needed more complexity than that to keep me sane during such a heavy transition. I didn’t just need a good friend right now; I needed a gentle monster… and Viktor was very close to being that with the Hexcore at the center of his very being.

I had a hard time not villainizing him, I realized as I finished off my mango and moved to cut myself a slice of bread. I held no ill intentions towards Viktor. He was an amazing friend, and I cared for him deeply. He was helping me understand myself in ways that no one else could. However, I still had a difficult time unlearning what I had previously known as solid fact. The arcane was used by and for evil.

Although I thought bringing the arcane to Piltover could be beneficial, I never hoped to be a wielder of it in any context other than some artificial technology. A small ball of magic with limitations and a specific purpose was much different from actually wielding the living, breathing essence of the arcane. I found it terrifying yet exhilarating.

I looked over to Viktor, noting the way he was still staring at himself in the mirror as I spread butter along my bread. I quickly finished my small meal before returning to his side and pressing my chin up against the top of his head. “Lost in though? We have a lot of errands to run today.”

“I know,” he said and leaned up against me slightly. “I just can’t help but wonder what Jayce would think if he were here right now, if he knew that I was embracing the gift that he gave me. I shouldn’t have left him. We could’ve made magic together, as partners.”

I inhaled his scent briefly before looking up into the mirror to stare into my own hazel eyes, “He would be so proud of you. You thought you were going to destroy the world, but look at you. You’re saving lives.”

He took my left arm and wrapped it around his torso before bringing my hand up to his lips to give it a light kiss. Lately our affection had shifted from simple hugs and hand holding to giving each other friendly pecks every now and then. It brought us both a comfort that I wasn’t sure anything else could. It felt nice to be appreciated and cared for again.

Viktor glanced up at me through the mirror before answering, “I spoke to him the other day, through a messenger. I told him to come to me. I have a feeling that I won’t like his reaction when he gets here.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” I sighed and used my right hand to gently knead his shoulder. “I’ll be here for you when he inevitably does decide to turn up, and I won’t let anyone harm you.”

______________________________

The day was even more hectic than I had expected it to be. We were just supposed to study the climate requirements for new seeds we had gotten the day prior, check on everyone in the commune to ensure no one had any unmet needs, and do some monthly gate maintenance to see that no danger would come to our shelter. However, we were only halfway through our search for privation when the same brunette man who had first greeted me—I had later learned that his name was Huck—informed us that a bulky woman in armor was asking to come through the gate and refusing to leave her weapons. Of course, it was time to face my mother.

I asked Viktor to stay behind and finish the task at hand while I confronted her, and it went about as well as I had hoped it would. She claimed to have been worried about me. She recognized the arcane in me and tried to tell me some sob story about how she had high hopes for me but wouldn’t use me for anything I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t want to hear it.

“And what about Kino? Did he not deserve to live simply because he didn’t share similar blood?” I scoffed at her and held her gaze. I had wanted my mother’s approval for far too long. It was high time that I spoke my mind with no restrictions.

Her face dropped as the words left my mouth, and for once I saw a look on her face that I had never seen before: dread. I had seen this woman slaughter innocent people without batting an eye, but she looked like she was moments away from vomiting as she spat out, “It wasn’t like that. I couldn’t just give you up! It’s not my fault that those people are monsters!”

“I’m sure there was something you could’ve done other than tell them to go ahead and get rid of him!” I snapped back, unable to hide the hurt and frustration from my voice. “He was your son, and you chose a weapon over him—a weapon that you don’t even intend to use!”

“That’s not true!” She tried to argue, but I drowned her out.

I placed my hand in front of her before backing closer to the gate, “This is no space for you. You are not welcome here. If it is my or The Herald’s assistance that you’re after, you won’t be getting it… and I can promise you that an invasion in our home is not a battle that you would survive.”

I didn’t let her say anything else as I stalked back into the commune, going to find Viktor so that I could get my mind off of the conversation and help him complete our tasks for the day.

______________________________

After we finished our tasks, I didn’t even bother bathing before throwing myself into the makeshift bed Viktor had crafted for me. It wasn’t as soft as I was used to, and the material it was made of definitely wasn’t as expensive. My mattress was on the floor and my blanket had a texture akin to sandpaper. My pillow felt like it was crafted from a fifteen year old plush toy… but I still couldn’t find myself to be uncomfortable when I laid in it.

Despite all of the qualities being negative, knowing that someone who cared about me had personalized it just for me despite hardly possessing human senses anymore made me appreciate it all the more. So, I naturally turned to the solid space the moment I was in need of comfort. I didn’t feel like talking about my feelings. It seemed useless. I didn’t understand why my mother had come here. I wasn’t sure what she had needed help with. We didn’t have anything that would be of use to her. Perhaps she had heard of Viktor’s power and wanted to use him for something unspeakable. I had no clue.

Just as I was thinking about him, Viktor appeared in the corner of the room with a slight frown on his face and he mumbled, “You are upset about your conversation with your mother.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” my voice came out slightly deeper than I intended it too. It got all rough like this when I felt emotional. I had that quirk ever since I was a child, and I never learned how to better conceal my distress.

He walked over slowly, not wanting to startle me as he sat on the edge of the bed, “I will not force you to speak, Mel. But, I want you to know that you can express yourself in my presence. I will not judge you. This place is your home for as long as you want it to be, and I appreciate what all you do for the people here.”

“I know,” I sighed and scooted away from the middle of the bed, silently hinting at the fact that I wanted him to hold me through it. “I just don’t understand what she could’ve possibly wanted from you. I don’t understand her audacity showing her face anywhere that I’m located right now.”

He crawled over to the middle of the bed before getting under the covers with me and wrapping his arms around my back, “If you wish for her to be gone, I can help you with that.”

I glared at him and lightly slapped him on the chest, knowing that he couldn’t feel it, “Of course I don’t want her to die—she’s my mother!”

“It was merely a suggestion,” Viktor looked away before returning his gaze to my face. “I don’t enjoy the way that she treats you. And clearly you don’t enjoy it either.”

“I may not enjoy her actions, but I cannot help but love the woman who raised me,” I hummed and leaned my forehead against him.

Viktor was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking of what to say. However, I was shocked that the next thing that came from the interaction was not words. I felt his soft lips against my own and my eyes widened immediately. His lips weren’t as cracked as I had expected them to be—which was probably my own fault. I had no idea why I thought a divine being would have dry lips.

I hesitated for a few moments before eventually deciding to kiss him back. I moved my hands to his hair, lacing my fingers into the braids I had so carefully folded early as I lost myself in the movement. His tongue was so gentle, so loving. It was like all of my worries melted away into the kiss.

He pulled away to breathe and I stared at him for at least ten seconds. I couldn’t believe that he would kiss me in such a way. I had always been under the assumption that he was gay—which I had no problem with as a bisexual myself, but I had always assumed that his attraction was more so directed at Jayce than me.

“Cheer up,” he hummed and pulled my face into his chest. “You have many glorious years ahead of you, and the woman who spawned you has no business ruining that.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself find comfort in the fabric of his clothing against my face. I was initially very confused, but I couldn’t deny the wholeness that I felt in our dynamic. I wanted to ask questions, to make sense of what was happening, but I gave up and let myself fall into the darkness of sleep instead.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | smut filler | part 5 | part 6

[justminawrites]

None of you understand Amber Bennett: She's just a girl, your honour. A review of the show writers' least favourite love story from Invincible season 1.

Now let me just preface this by saying I have 2 points to make. Just two, very long, super rambly points that does have mild spoilers for Invincible season 2. Read at your own risk.

Point 1: Amber isn't "understanding" enough is utter bullshit.

There’s no indication that civilians outside of the ones associated with the GDA have any idea how brutal fights are for superheroes. Amber quite literally has no idea what the hell Mark is going through, even after the superhero reveal. The only thing she has a smidgeon of understanding of is his dad beating his ass on live TV. And even that is a heavy maybe because we don’t know how much of the fight the cameras could cover and how much was broadcast to the general public. 

Point 2: Amber’s dated Losers before.

This is stated explicitly in canon, she's “been down that road." Furthermore, she’s also the daughter of a single-parent household. She used to hang out a community centre as a kid because her mom did late hours. Daddy Issues anyone? She’s got a lot of her own problems that we never get to unpack or linger on because the writing decided she wasn’t going to end up with Mark. 

What if she’d already dated an absolute bastard before Mark? Someone who seemed sweet and genuine at first, but then he started slacking. He’d be late to dates, stop taking an interest in anything she did, and just never show up for her in any way that mattered. Amber would make up excuses with her friends and family, oh he’s busy, he’s studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it. 

Her friends and family don’t believe her completely but they humor her because she really seems to like him. And the ex-boyfriend isn’t a douchebag the whole time.. he brings gifts to make up for being late, he plies and pacifies her with honeyed words and promises to be better.

But each time the lies get more and more difficult to believe. Traffic and science projects, traffic and science projects, even when he shows up smelling like weed and alcohol. Her friends and family give her tight-lipped smiles when her ex-boyfriend gives her sloppy kisses and proclaims over and over “She’s too good for me, this one.”

She tries to be empathetic, she tries to be understanding when they’re alone, he can tell her what it is that’s wrong. But every-time she brings up giving them some space, he takes it as an indication of her not believing him and he guilts her with one sob story or another— she knows him, he was so gentle and respectful before they started dating, does she really think he’d do this to her if he didn’t have a good reason? Just a masterclass in gaslighting. So she gives him a second chance, third chance, fourth even. 

But then he begins cheating on her. Whenever she confronts him about it, he plays victim and accuses her of being “crazy” even though the entire school knows otherwise. She catches him one fine day, and dumps him on the spot. For a short while, Amber’s very proud of this but as time passes she starts to feel extremely embarrassed that it took that long for her to catch on. 

No one blames her, of course, but they all say something along the lines of “We never liked him anyway” which makes Amber doubt the perception of him she had. She internalises their support as a failing on her part to be vigilant, she didn’t want to end up making the same mistakes as her mom, after all. 

Amber becomes guarded. She doesn’t entertain male attention (from Todd, for example) but then she finds out resident wimp Mark Grayson takes a beating for her and she feels bad. 

So she gives him a chance. Mark was a nonissue, a nobody with no track record of being amazing or awful, just an in-between, normal guy who was maybe a little soft spoken and needed to stand up for himself more. 

But every time they try to hang out, something comes in between them. The excuses are laughably obvious this time and Amber is caught between trying to understand if Mark Grayson is trying to let her down easy because he’s not interested or if he’s just another douchebag taking her for a ride. 

He leaves her alone during their study date for an hour to do something shady and/or potentially related to Eve (I know she overheard him yelling at Cecil in his bedroom); Mark tells her he’s been to Mount Everest, but can’t tell her How he got there, and leaves on a non-specific trip for two weeks, right after their first date, and can’t even tell her Where he’s going or what he did when he was there?

So she does what she’d wished she’d done in her first relationship, she sets her boundaries. Firmly. She gives Mark multiple chances to come clean when she tells him she’s not riding that wave again. It’s been brought up a few times that Amber has lingering relationship-trauma.

During their study date Amber tells him she’s been in relationships with violent potentially abusive guys (“Met plenty of guys who were willing to throw a punch for me.”); or when he stands her up for the Dinner with her mom she tells him that he needs to make a choice because she’s “Been down this road before, and once was enough.”

But he still keeps at it and she starts getting tired of defending him to her friends and her mom. He’s just busy, he’s just studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it. And this time they shake their heads and lightly imply that she’s stuck in a pattern. Amber can feel them comparing Mark to her old boyfriend and it all becomes a bit too much. 

Either he’s a no good drug dealing prick or he’s just wasting her time, whatever it is, Amber’s had enough of being left in the dark. 

The soup kitchen is the final straw, but then she finds out that he gets run over by a bus. He actually gets hurt, this is the first time Amber’s seen him hurt, and she feels awful because if she hadn’t pushed him to show up for her again and again maybe he would’ve been more careful. 

He doesn’t let her visit him in the hospital. A hit and run on the wrong side of town was the story this time— he can’t even tell her this, the specifics of his accident! Eve was his first point of contact after his parents?! At this point Amber is convinced that he’s involved in something violent or something to do with Eve, or both and she’s not sure she wants to keep going with this. 

Amber is confused and hurt but she also feels responsible for Mark’s injuries. Maybe she Was too paranoid, maybe she Was projecting all her relationship-trauma on him and he would tell her what happened at his own pace. So she backtracks, gives him another chance.

College is really the best of all worlds, Mark makes her promises that this time will be different, and Amber tentatively agrees to college together. (She’s still stressed out about his injuries and on edge the whole time though and asks if he has a concussion). 

This is really important because Amber ends up at Upstate U later. She decided to go to college with him, basically because of Him. This wasn’t any specific plan she had before, this was her making room in her life for this boy and potentially everything their lives could be together. 

Then the Reanimen Incident happens. And she loses her shit. Mark Grayson is not the flakey but well-intentioned boyfriend she thought he was.. Mark Grayson is not even a good person! He LEFT her and William at the drop of a hat to save his own slimy skin, that bastard! Her intuition was right, she never should’ve given him a chance. 

Amber was no longer going to give Mark Grayson the time of day, much less share a bed with the self-serving jerk; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of spinning another tall tale. Or seeing her cry. She closes the door to the shower rooms behind her, and overhears Rick leaving to get them all some beer. Dorm room walls are thin, after all.

Then she hears something else.

“You’re Invincible!” William’s voice carries over excitedly, “And you never told me?”

Here goes the "problematic" bit.

I think Amber was lying when she told Mark she knew he was Invincible weeks ago. Amber didn’t even know who Invincible was until a few minutes after the Reanimen attack. She isn’t acting for anyone around her, she’s genuinely confused when the superhero jets off because she’s never seen him in her life. 

I think she overheard William freaking out about it in the dorm room and she pieced together Mark’s absences with his vague excuses and why couldn’t visit him at the hospital. She takes a shower to cool off but sitting and stewing on all of it just makes her angrier and she decides to go to the frat party just to get away from Mark for a while. 

Now why wouldn’t she just tell him she overheard them talking? 

Amber is an assertive independent character with a lot of pride. And that’s not a bad thing. Amber has a lot to be proud of. She has a strong sense of justice, she doesn’t take crap from anyone and she has too much self-worth to put up with liars. 

You can clearly see this in the way she approaches Mark in the beginning. She asks William if he’s dating Eve, and then instead of calling him herself, she gets Todd to give Mark her number so he can call her if he’s interested, despite the fact that she already is. She has too much pride to chase him. It’s one of her fixed flaws, and it’s consistent to her character. 

So finding out that Mark is actually Invincible almost by accident, is kind of embarrassing for Amber. Not only because she yelled at him for disappearing but for all the times he misled her and lied to her only to actually have a good reason for doing it. There’s a lot of mixed emotions there, shame, guilt, concern. Guilt.

Admitting that she overheard he was Invincible would be like admitting she was a stupid, nagging girlfriend who had no right to be a part of his life (the way the fandom perceives her) so she doesn’t. She tries to distract herself with the party, flirts with someone she just met not ten minutes ago, and feels awful because he immediately drops the girlfriend bomb. 

Now she’s forced to confront the fact that she has a boyfriend, and her flakey, well-intentioned superhero boyfriend is sitting and moping in the dorm room because she doesn’t have the guts to tell him she knows. Because telling him she knows would remove the choice he’d need to make when deciding whether or not he was serious about their relationship.

Amber was serious, Amber was going to change her life and potentially open her future to college with him, but was Mark really sure about Them if he couldn’t even tell her of his own accord? 

Telling him would be like giving him another out. And Amber was done giving him an out. 

When he finally confesses he doesn’t see why she’s mad at him, because he doesn’t see her at all. He can’t even begin to imagine what this roller coaster of a weekend has been for her because she’s been serious about him all this time and it took them breaking up completely for Mark to choose her back in the first place and go all in. 

Now it’s true that Mark is entitled to his secrets but Amber is also entitled to being upset that he can’t tell her 1 solid thing about his life. Not one thing does he trust her enough to explain, and at that point why should they even be dating each other? Why should she change the course of her future for a guy who can’t tell her where he was last weekend?

Then Omni-man beats him up on live TV, and now that she knows that he’s Invincible, she finally gets a glimpse into the bloody, gruesome world that is Mark’s. His Dad isn’t a superhero, his Dad is a Monster, and Mark is discovering this the same time as the rest of the world.

So she freaks out because she cares, and she’s so relieved to see him not beat to a bloody pulp like on TV that she kisses him. She likely had no intention of getting back together with him before that, but world-ending fiascos often come with heightened emotions, and they’re just kids at the end of the day. 

She’s not a manipulative, narcissistic villain, she’s just a proud girl, in love with a boy who can’t decided whether or not he loves her back. 

Now do I think Mark is a terrible jerk who doesn’t deserve Amber? No. I watched Invincible the same way it was intended, almost entirely through Mark’s eyes, and it’s hard to assign blame in this case because we see how horrifying and traumatic being a superhero actually is. But that’s the point, we only see one half of the story. 

We see Amber through Mark’s eyes and in his opinion she could afford to be more compassionate to his excuses the moment she finds out he’s a hero, the way Eve can, but that’s not true at all because Amber has no idea what being a hero is like. Eve does, and that’s the difference that Mark is wilfully blind to. 

But Mark also has no idea what Amber’s life is like and it’s easy to get lost in the sea of all the lives lost and villains fought, that he genuinely hasn’t spent any time with his girlfriend as a person beyond his Girlfriend. Amber isn’t a person to him, like William stopped being eventually; they became sort of tethers to Mark’s humanity, a way to distinguish himself from his Dad. A way to ground him. 

Seriously? When was the last time Mark even talked to William, his once Best Friend? They’re not his Mom, they’re concepts to him. They’re civilians, potential victims he could end up losing if he doesn’t police himself and his powers. Mark slowly becomes disillusioned to his own life as a human, the more the leans into the Viltrumite half of his parentage. 

It’s a little tragic but it’s the story we’re seeing. In season 2, when Mark and Amber break up and he gives up his dream for college, these two things are almost explicitly correlated. Mark is coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to outlive everyone he knows, even his new baby brother and that is just the most chaotic example of a slow-burn trauma if I’ve ever seen one. He’s giving up being human, but maybe not giving up his humanity. 

______________________________________________________________

TLDR: None of you understand Amber Bennett because the writers decided that Mark would outlive her before he ever had the chance to see things from her perspective and I am SALTY about it

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 4

Title: Sunday Nights and Lost Memories

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Yuri’s mad at you, you agreed to be friends with the prince and now it’s...movie night?

Warnings: PG18, fluff, swearing, touch of angst, banter, lots of texting!!, nothing too drastic, just them <3, mentions of nudes, reader eats cheese - up to you whether or not it's dairy cheese or not, same goes for the meat. I didn't specify if it's veg or animal based | * there is a part where JK lifts reader. For all you readers out there,  big, little, small, tall, cute, beautiful, handsome, adorable, wonderful, perfect the way you are readers. I say my JK can lift you, okay? He’s strong and able enough to because I say so *

Word Count: 9062

Release Date: May 19, 2023, 8:00pm

A/N 1: she’s heeeereeee

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Three weeks.

Yuri’d given you the cold shoulder for the better part of three weeks.

And you’d let her, more impressed than anything she stuck to it. She’d never been mad at you for that long before and it made for a few awkward encounters—but it’s nothing you wouldn’t survive knowing what was coming.

Jungkook telling her to back off.

He’d asked you a few times, about ways to create some boundaries with her. Light ones, like not always walking with her on his arm or not discussing very personal topics such as grooming habits.  

But no matter what you suggested, no matter what he tried or said, Yuri was always somehow able to make it into something else.

Every new ‘boundary’ of his became a way for him to keep her closer instead of pushing her away.

Not walking on his arm was his way of letting her keep her independence. Not discussing grooming habits was his way of keeping the spark and mystery alive.

You don’t know how she did it. How she kept doing it to herself, finding ways to spin things in her favour, completely ignoring the rationality and reality of the situation.

Therefore, you decided that it was just going to have to be a hard lesson she’d learn in time. 

And in time did she ever.

When Jungkook finally did tell her outright, it was a last resort made after his several attempts at trying to convince her of their strictly platonic friendship, of trying to enforce his boundaries and be gentlemanly about the situation. 

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with this kind of behaviour from women.

But much to his regret, he was only able to tell her after she tried to kiss him. 

One afternoon, they were sitting on a bench in one of the school's lesser traveled courtyards, a respectable distance apart from one another, sipping on coffee he’d offered to pay for. 

He kept buying her coffees, kept occasionally complimenting her outfits, he was kind to her, and communicated his needs in their ‘relationship.’ 

It was the final nail in the coffin for her. 

She’d been debating it for a while, wondering if she should make the first move or wait until he did, but she wasn’t completely sure he felt the same. 

So, Yuri’d taken this final declaration of affection as the confirmation she needed, and leaned in. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook didn’t think much of treating her. It had always been his way of saying thank you for all the help around campus. In fact he’d done it more than once, really hoping she could see how grateful he was to her. 

She’d shown him the best places to eat and study in their building, showed him the fastest routes to his classes and the ones that would offer him the most privacy for him. 

She introduced you to him. 

He was grateful to her. 

But then he saw her eyes closing, and puckered lips moving closer and closer and closer and—in a not very princely, but very Jungkook way—panicked. 

He caught her shoulder with a hand to stop her advance and hoped that while doing so he was somehow wondrously mistaken and he was saving her from fainting or falling or literally anything else.

However, reality quickly derailed the nice thought.

It took a second for Yuri to register the hold was meant to halt rather than control, and opened her eyes, mortified.

No. 

Worse. So much worse. 

Horribly, stomach dropping, gut twisting, face heating, all-encompassingly embarrassing.

She just tried to kiss the prince. 

She just tried to kiss the prince??!!

And he stopped her. Almost pushed her away because he was so against the idea. 

She tried to kis—

Oh no. 

Oh no no no. 

No no no! 

Fuck! 

What the hell is wrong with her?! Why was she so stupid? She should have just listened to you. 

Why didn’t she listen to you!!??

Jungkook felt horrible for Yuri as he watched her process her emotions. Felt angry with himself. 

Horrible to have caused this and angry that he was unable to be honest with her about how he felt from the get go and save them both from this situation.

But he didn’t. And now he has to. 

And she looks like she wants to be half way across campus right boss.

So Jungkook, as kindly as he could, informed Yuri that while he was incredibly thankful for all of her help with everything over the past month, he didn’t feel the same way she did. And that he was very sorry if he’d ever done anything to make her think he did. He truly didn’t mean to, and apologized again that the boundaries he tried to set weren’t clear enough to signal that to her.

And from the water that began to swim over her irises to her hands that shook as he spoke, he could see it went over about as well as he expected.

Meanwhile, Yuri’d never left a situation so quickly in her life.

Jacket thrown over an arm, half open purse hastily grabbed, Yuri’d scrambled to be literally anywhere that he wasn’t. The held back tears freeing themselves from the confines of her lashes as she went.

The second she was out of his sight you received a heads up text, informing that a very distraught Yuri was most likely on her way to you, to please be gentle with her, and that he was extremely sorry to have caused this.

Not two minutes later did a mascara stained Yuri burst through your shared door apologizing for being so stupid. Rambling on about how you were right and he didn’t want her. That she read all of his signs wrong and frantic over the thought that her dreams of their future were crushed.

You held her as she cried her heart out, verbally bashing the prince for ‘being an asshole’ and ‘leading her on.’ Allowing her to process and get all of her feelings out.

He didn’t lead her on and you knew that. And you’re pretty sure she knew it too. But you weren’t going to call her on it. Instead, you agreed with every word she said and offered up a few choice ones of your own. In particular, ‘that asshole doesn’t know what he had.’

Your comfort seemed to make her feel better and you were glad because wanted to support her. To let her know she could always come back to you no matter what. That friends are forever even if there are bumps in the road, and you’ll always be there for her.

She made a promise that night to never let a guy come between you two ever again.

That was a month ago, and little to her knowledge, your friendship with Jungkook is flourishing with every passing week.

After having a mini meltdown about the realization of what you agreed to, you rationalized, and decided you didn’t think saying yes would really amount to much. Fully expecting him to text you maybe once a week about something school related or send you funny pictures on social media every now and then—not that you followed one another.

But it hasn’t been anything like that at all.

He messages you everyday.

At first it was just random things, like a picture of a rabbit nibbling on some grass by the greenhouse one morning.

PJK [6:23am]: *see attached: 1 image* PJK [6:23am]: I’m gonna name him floppy, I’ve seen him out here like 3 times now

You don’t reply until your morning alarm goes off at 6:45am, finding the messages when you go to snooze it.

Eyes still heavy with sleep and half closed, you type out your reply.

You [6:45am]: Junfgkook itsnot eben sevem in teh morninf, what thefcuk are yiu doing up, let alione out

Jungkook snorts at your text.

PJK [6:47am]: okay so clearly someonnneees definitely not a morning person, Miss Typos. PJK [6:48am]: But to answer your question: morning workout followed by homework. I prefer to get both out of the way before the day starts. PJK [6:48am]: Plus I like the greenhouse in the morning, it opens early so I get breakfast and a nice view while getting to work in peace

You scoff with a quirked smile. 

Of course.

You [6:50am]: Camt realte, I’ll be a mornig pesron once im outof bed, its teh period of time betwenn nowanf then taht im not

And that’s true. Once you’re up, you’re up. No caffeine or food needed. Your brain goes  “up now? Okay.” But that little period of time between waking up and getting out of bed?

You’re a zombie.

Jungkook laughs to himself at your butchered words, sitting in his newly decided seat outside the cafe—the one next to yours—before replying.

PJK [6:51am]: noted. don’t message YN before 7am or fear her wrath

You drag a pillow over your head, groaning. Guess you’re ‘up’ now.

You [6:53am]: damn straight You [6:54am]: the bunny’s cute tho You [6:54am]: hi floppy

That’s how you learned that he’s a morning person.

Random texts aside?

Jungkook’s also genuinely trying to get to know you while letting you learn about him too, and you really weren’t expecting just how… normal he is.

PJK [4:28pm]: What’s your favourite drink?

You [4:30pm]: Like alcohol wise or in general? Cuz if in general its a 3 way tie between OJ, apple juice and fruit punch, but if it’s alcohol? You [4:31pm]: I like wine I guess, the fruity kind. Dont really care what brand, but I also dont drink all that often so make of that what you will

PJK [4:32pm]: I meant in general but I’ll take that answer too. Mines milk or beer PJK [4:33pm]: wine’s delicious though. And a 3way tie between juices? I worry for your sugar intake

You [4:34pm]: haha. my sugar intake’s just fine thanks

PJK [4:35pm]: lol.

A weird quirk of yours is that you never use ‘lol’. Something deep inside you just hates it, maybe because of how overused it is. You’ve always used a version of ‘haha’ or ‘hehe’ or one of the various laughing emoticons. But naturally, when he found out about this little aversion, Jungkook seemed to use it more and more around you just to get a rise.

PJK [4:35pm]: whatever you say, Rembrandt

A smile finds your lips at that.

You don’t know how it started really, but sometime between that Monday in September and now, halfway through October, Jungkook started to refer to you almost exclusively by a number of old artist themed nicknames.

And they have, so far, never once been repeated. You're starting to wonder if he searches up new ones because of how many he’s donned you without duplication.

Ding.

PJK [4:49pm]: what are we feeling for Sunday? Action? Thriller? Mystery? What’s on the menu? Is there a dress code?

Another tradition that’s somehow worked its way into your life; Sunday movie nights at Jungkook’s.

He lives in a single dorm so you never have to worry about prying eyes or noisy roommates. Plus he always has the best snacks so you can never say no.

And, well…You love them.  

You love having dedicated time to relaxing and being social in an environment where you feel safe and not overwhelmed. Where you feel comfortable getting out of your academic head for a few hours with someone you’re learning to trust and know, whose company you genuinely enjoy.

They’re something you didn’t know you needed so badly until they became routine. Three to five hours a week of nothing but relaxing and fun. A break from the chaos your life has always been.

No painting or drawing or studying or catching up on anything you’re behind on. No preparing yourself for the next day's lessons or keeping up with your practice schedule.

Just a few blissful hours of complete peaceful nothing where your brain can turn to mush before coming back stronger than before. Like a caterpillar needs to do in order to become a butterfly.

You tell Yuri you’re doing individual studies in the school during them. And in true Yuri fashion, says; “Only crazy people study all night before the week starts up again, but you do you Sweets,” or something along those lines every time.

She knows not to get in your way when it comes to your academics, and does her best to support you from afar.

It makes the night that much sweeter knowing you won’t be interrupted.

But right now, it’s barely Wednesday evening. You haven’t thought that far ahead yet. And for good reason.

You [4:55pm]: all I ask is a comfy dress code please, like PJ level comfy and no horror movies. I’m going to be so dead this weekend. Expect no makeup and minimal effort

You have an early mid-term on Friday, and already know you’re going to be so wiped for the days following. Your study habits aren’t exactly healthy, but they work, and that’s all you care about.

Who needs sleep or food when you’re top of your class and have a scholarship to keep from the top university in the nation?

PJK [4:57pm]: so what I’m hearing is I get free reign over choice of movie and snacks as long as I follow the two requests of casual wear and nothing scary?

You [4:59pm]: well considering that you always eat 90% of the snacks and whine until we settle on a movie you like then talk through anyways? You [4:59pm]: sure

He ignores your playful jab, and instead tries out one of his own. To see if you’ll budge.

He’s been testing the limits of your humor lately, to see if yours and his match up at all.

PJK [5:01pm]: But what if I sleep naked and have no Pj’s? Hmmm?? What would you do then???

You [5:01pm] take pictures and sell them to the highest bidder. You [5:02pm] How much do you think I could get for leaking the first pictures of the prince's dick to the public?

You think twice after sending that message, maybe a bit too bold.

But he takes it in stride, is a little proud even.

Not many would speak to him that bluntly, especially not with a ‘threat’.  It seems your senses of humor line up quite well.

PJK [5:02pm]: ok damn. I have PJ’s, no need to go there so quickly.  lol PJK [5:03pm]: i don’t need my dick on the cover of every news outlet thanks. my dad would literally kill me

It makes you snort how he refers to the king as his dad. Because on one hand, yeah. But on the other, it seems like such a mundane title for the most powerful man within 5000 miles in any direction. The monarch. The one who can command armies with the flick of an eyebrow or quirk of the finger.

You [5:03pm]: you literally asked for it.

Also, how in the fuck did you manage to get yourself into talking about the princes dick? That’s definitely not a safe topic by any means.

And yet… it didn’t stop you from doing so.

Stupid brain always needing to win.

PJK [5:04pm]: yeah… guess I did. Allow me to make up for it: PJK [5:04pm]: you can ask for one snack and I will guarantee its presence on Sunday

You [5:05pm]: ahhhh. i love your princely power sometimes. being able to ~guarantee~ me anything my heart desires. You [5:05pm]: A true friend indeed.

Jungkook laughs at that.

You [5:07pm]: blue raspberry sour drops, the small ones

PJK [5:09pm]: done. PJK [5:09pm]: see you at mine then? with Pj’s on, of course.

You [5:10pm]: yeah, sounds good

But you add in, simply because you cannot help but drive the point home.

You [5:10pm]: and shame, I was really looking forward to the payday your nudes could get me. multiple zeros, meet my bank account

He doesn’t deign you with a response, but you know he saw the joke in your words.

He always does.

You put your phone down to get back to studying, but a memory of Yuri saying she was going out Sunday night pops into your head. Something about a duke asking her out but he was only able to go out on a Sunday night due to his schedule.

She, being Yuri, obviously jumped at the chance, thrilled to put the embarrassment of the Jungkook incident far, far, far behind her.

“And don’t wait up for me, I don’t plan on coming home until the morning,” she told you with a wink.

You held up your hand, and she smacked it.

“Go get’em tiger,” you encouraged in what you hoped was your most suave voice. But you cracked a giant grin before you could finish and you both broke out laughing.

With that thought in mind, you grab your phone again.

You [5:15pm]: oh wait actually You [5:15pm]: up to you, but Yuri’s gunna be gone Sunday night if you wanna finally check out casa de Rembrandt You [5:16pm]: seeing as you’ve been asking for literally forever

More like two weeks, but what’s the point of being accurate when you can be dramatic. Plus, it would be safe with no Yuri. You were on the first floor, quick and easy to get to without anyone seeing.

You [5:17pm]: gotta come in incognito mode tho, cant have that famous mug of yours filling up my security cameras

You don’t want to even imagine what would happen if security found out that the prince was entering the girls dorm.

Front page news on every gossip magazine to start.

Maybe you shouldn’t hav—Ding.

PJK [5:20pm]: absolutely 100% yes. I’ve been dying to raid your fridge of all things boring and unhealthy. I swear your diet only consists of bread, hot chocolate, cheese and egg tarts. PJK [5:20pm} And juice. Way too much juice.

You [5:21pm]: hey you leave my juice out of this Jeon. Not everyone can have a personal chef and nutritionist 😅

You don’t know that Jungkook doesn’t have either of those. That he cooks everything he eats himself.

Hey—Everyone’s gotta have hobbies. And half his friends back home are the sons of palace chefs.

You learn things when you hang out in kitchen’s all day.

PJK [5:22pm]: no one should be able to survive off of what you do, so I’ll go after your insane juice habits if I want to PJK [5:22pm]: lol

You roll your eyes. This isn’t the first, nor will it be the last time he’s going to bug you about this. 

You [5:23pm]: Thin ice, Jeon. Thin fucking ice. You [5:23pm]:  In fact, I think the only thing that will thicken it again is the addition of chocolate at movie night on your dime

PJK [5:24pm]: we’ll see about that, Cézanne. We’ll see.

Friday comes and goes way too quickly, and you were right. Your study habits are insane—but they always pay off. You knew every single answer on your mid-term and have no doubt you’ll pass with flying colours.

And just like you were right about that you were also right about being totally wiped for the following days. All that build up had to come crashing down at some point.

It’s finally Sunday evening and Yuri’s about to leave for her date, currently busy applying mascara in your shared washroom.

She already knows you’re going to skip your regularly scheduled “Sunday night study session” in favour of a night in with your bed, a movie and junkfood.

Not a lie, you tell yourself, just not the whole truth.

Not a lie, not a lie, not a lie.

“I’m glad you're finally listening to your body and resting, Sweets. Gods know you work too hard in the first place,” she says, sliding the mascara wand back into the tube and doing final checks in the mirror. “A night in will do you some good. You look exhausted.”

She’s wearing a tight little black dress and matching heels with red bottoms. Her hair’s up in an intentionally messy updo, with a smokey eye, and a lipstick that matches the soles of her shoes perfectly.

In short, she looks hot.

“I feel exhausted,” you admit, leaning against the dining room table. You’re wearing a tank and pj pants paired with your favourite bunny slippers. “But I aced that exam soooo… worth it. You have fun though! And go get that dick yeah? Let me live vicariously through you, considering mine lives on the other side of the planet right now.”

The sad smile she begins to give you gets replaced by a wider, much more mischievous one, “I’ll be sure to fill you in on every detail. I need to know your opinions, you’re clearly better at this whole thing—five year relationship still going strong and all. I need to know if this one’s a keeper.”

“First opinion: if he can’t find the clit, dump him.”

She gives you a look. “That one’s obvious, YN. I’m not completely hopeless.”

You plaster your face with her mischievous grin from earlier and mutter, “could’ve fooled me,”  under your breath.

You’re met with a towel to the face as you laugh. Removing it from its current rental space on your face, you place it on the back of a chair and continue to mock, eyes catching on the clock in your room while doing so.

“Aren’t you going to be late? It’s like 6:15.”

“Shit! Yes. Thank you,” she says, grabbing her handbag off the door handle and stuffing it with makeup and condoms. She knows better than to trust the guy to have them.

Shuffling out, she takes her jacket off the coat hooks by the door and puts it on.

“Okay byeeeeeee, don’t wait up, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon and let you in on all things dirty!”

You wave goodbye. “I’m looking forward to it, be safe!”

“Always am,” she says as she closes the door, and you go back to your room once it clicks shut.

You’d spent the afternoon tidying, not that you were messy, but you were raised to clean before company came over because apparently you can’t have people knowing you actually live in your place of residence. 

Stupid made up rule. But it’s ingrained into you at this point.

Plopping down on your bed, you scroll through your phone waiting on a text from Jungkook to signal his arrival. But before one ever comes, a knock sounds at your door.

It’s probably Yuri. She forgets her keys all the time and no matter how much you hound her for it, the problem never seems to resolve.

Getting up, you don’t hold back your scolding, “Yuri how many times have I told you to just keep your damn keys in your ba—oh,” shock cutting you off as you open the door.

Jungkook’s standing in your entryway wearing flannel PJ pants and white tee under his normal hat, mask and jacket combo.

He looks so completely different to what you’re used to seeing on TV, in magazines and on campus.

No formal wear or designer labels. Just a loose shift and brandless pants.

So normal. Like anyone else.

You think you’d be used to it after a month and half. But you’re still slightly jarred every time you see him so ordinarily dressed.

And as much as you practice what you preach about not giving a shit about his social status, there’s always that underlying expectation of what and how a prince is supposed to look. Regal, royal, not like an entirely regular university student.

He looks comfortable, and his arms are full of plastic bags that likely hold the snacks he promised for tonight.

And while you’re taking him in, you don’t see him staring at you, unable to speak.

He’s looking at you, at your cute shirt and pants, at the most adorable pair of slippers he’s ever seen. But also at your nervous expression, and how tired you seem.

You break the silence, moving past him to peek down the hallway.

“Hey, I thought you were going to text me you were here so I could come get you. Did Yuri see you? She just left,” you ramble, happy to see it’s empty before moving out of the way to let him in.

“Nice pajamas,” is all he manages.

You look down at his compliment, eyeing your slippers. Yikes… That's only slightly embarrassing. “Uh… thanks.”

Your confusion snaps him out of his daze.

“I saw Yuri on my way in, but she didn’t recognize me, don’t worry.”

“Oh that’s good. No text though? You didn’t get lost trying to get here?”

“Hands were full,” he says, lifting his arms. “Plus you’re on the first floor and your building isn’t that hard to navigate. It has signs and I have eyes. I worked it out.”

Closing the door, you turn to help with the bags but immediately pause.

Oh.

You didn’t think prior to his arrival about just how much space he was going to take up in your dorm.

Jungkook’s place is bigger than yours, it feels comfortably large. Has more than enough room to go around.

And your dorm isn’t tiny by any means—when it’s just you and Yuri.

It has two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchenette, a dining room. Lots of room for you two.

But Jungkook, he’s…very large. He takes up a lot of space you aren’t used to having filled.

And you know that, you have to remind yourself. You know he’s taller than you by a good couple inches and that he works out regularly.

You know he isn’t small by any definition of the word.

So why does it still bring such a surprise to have him take up so much of your space.

Gulp.

“Eyes and signs are convenient like that I guess,” you respond dumbly, looking to your room where movie night will be held.

It’s even smaller than the dining space.

You really really didn’t think this through.

“Where can I put these?” he asks, holding up his bag clad arms.

“In there,” you gesture to the room that’s starting to leech the air from your lungs despite the fact you aren’t even occupying it yet.

Jungkook takes his shoes off by the door and heads to your room. He has to turn sideways to get through your door with all of his bags.

“Did you have to buy the whole store?”

“Yes.”

You scoff but follow. He steps between the two bean bag chairs at the side of the bed, and firstly sets the bags down on the floor in front of them before secondly shedding himself of his disguise, leaving the mask and hat on your desk, his jacket on the neatly tucked in desk chair.

And with its removal, tattoos you’re not used to seeing are now on full display as what you thought was a t-shirt is actually a muscle shirt.

His forearm and bicep are covered, the ink continuing to crawl up and over his shoulder and under his shirt.

There’s barely a patch of untouched skin left.

And you try not to stare. You really do, even though all you want to do is stare. Up close. Too close. For hours.

You want to study every line and bit of shading. Every colour gradient and scrawl of text. Every design and hidden meaning.

Damn your love of art.

Reaching into the discarded bags, he pulls out three bags of chips, far too many drinks, two packs of candy—one of which is a massive pack of blue raspberry sour drops—two chocolate bars, and to your surprise, some fruit and vegetable trays and a charcuterie board.

You raise an eyebrow at those last three as your movie nights have almost always exclusively had shitty junk food. Jungkook notices your quizzical expression instantly.

He’s been noticing a lot about you lately.

“Gotta make sure you eat more than junk, your body needs healthy foods too you know.”

“I see cheese, so I am content.”

“Michelangelo, I swear to god if all you eat is the candy, chocolate and cheese I will hire you a personal chef to make sure you eat better. And yes that is a threat.”

He’s setting everything out on your twin bed so you’re both able to reach back to grab what you want, pointing as he lists, “There’s strawberries, tangerine slices, grapes, peaches, bean sprouts, carrots, cucumbers, radish, sesame dip, seaweed, kimchi, meat and crackers here on top of the cheese and junk food. All pre-made and ready to go. So you better shove them in your mouth and thank me later.”

You raise your hands in defeat. He wasn’t mean or rude in his tone, clearly just passionate about healthy eating. And since it’s all here and free and will make him happy, who are you to deny him?

Though that doesn’t mean you’ll accept without giving him a hard time about it.

“Alright, alright your majesty, I concede, your wish is my command.”

He gives you a look you wholly ignore as you head to the computer you have set up on a little stand in front of the bean bag chairs. Not nearly as nice as the couch and flatscreen at Jungkook's place, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“What am I cuing up?”

He tells you the movie he’s selected for the night, and you’re not surprised. It’s an action thriller, something with car chases and explosions. You’re too tired to argue, so you don’t, instead clicking into your streaming app and loading the movie.

“Plates?” he asks, not paying attention to if you're listening or not, still busy setting the food up.

Yeah, you guess plates could be useful. And maybe cups too.

By the time you return from the kitchen with two plates, two bowls, some cutlery and cups, Jungkook’s already settled into the chair on the right; himself and the food ready to go.

Flicking the lights off on the way to your seat, you give him his share of dishes, and both of you fill them as much as you can.

Yours is stacked with a bit of everything, to which Jungkook gives a nod that you know means ‘good.’

A single butterfly flaps its wings in your stomach.

Leaning forward, you hit the space button to play, and grab a bite of cured meat with a cracker and cheese.

—Oh! Wait, that's actually really yummy. 

Munching away, you credit him for making it past the title sequence before starting to talk. It’s further than you usually get.

“How was your exam?” he asks, mouth half full of chips but that never seems to stop him.

For someone raised in a palace you thought he’d have more manners drilled into him.

You don’t mind though, when he was like this it was easier to forget he was the second most important person on the continent.

“Great,” you answer, another small piece of cheese making its way to your belly. “Nailed it actually, just waiting on the professor to confirm.”

Jungkook’s subtly watching you eat from the corner of his eye while you pretend to focus on the movie. You haven't touched any of the fruit or vegetables on your plate. Slightly perturbed, he replies, “That’s great Botticelli, you’ll have to teach me your study methods one day. It’s getting harder and harder to keep up.”

“You couldn’t handle my methods,” you joke. But if you really thought about it, he was probably one of the only people that could.

You can’t imagine the pressure and discipline he put on himself growing up, let alone what his father put from the little he’s told you about him.

“You know, I think you’re right,” he says, still observing because most of the cheese and chocolate are gone while the healthy foods remain untouched.

—But that’s because you liked eating cheese and chocolate together! They complement one another on your palette. You’ll get to the fruits and vegetables… eventually.

He continues, “But it was worth a shot.”

You hum, finishing your mouthful of cheesy-chocolatey goodness, and go to grab another, but he picks up a baby carrot from his plate and places it at your lips.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Open,” he says firmly.

Jungkook really wasn’t kidding with all the healthy food talk, or maybe he just doesn’t want his money to go to waste. It isn’t like you weren’t going to eat it.

But you do as instructed, teeth gently taking the carrot from his fingers. A very satisfying crunch sounding from your bite.

His eyes linger for a second before going back to watching the movie, as if he didn’t just feed you.

There’s a feeling in your stomach you don’t want to recognize, so you push it down, and decide not to unintentionally provoke him again by beginning to eat the healthy foods on your plate. Abandoning the rest of your cheese, chocolate and blue raspberry drops.

For now.

Your phone dings from its place on your thigh, a notification from Nel popping up.

Nelly <3 [7:10pm]: hey babe, just got my ticket. I’ll see you in a few 😘

A smile plasters its way to your face immediately, cheeks almost hurting from how wide.

Nel comes over every fall reading week. You look forward to it every single year.

You [7:11pm]: I’ll see you in a few Smoosh, I love you❤️

Nelly <3 [7:11pm]: love you too x Nelly <3 [7:12pm]: what’re you up too?

You [7:15pm]: movie night with snacks

Not a lie. Not a lie. Not a lie.

Nelly <3 [7:15pm]: Yuri with you?

You [7:16pm]: nope, she’s on a date

Nelly <3 [7:16pm]: ah, hope that goes well for her Nelly <3 [7:16pm]: I won’t bug anymore though. enjoy your movie

You [7:17pm]: thanks baby, I will ❤️

It only burns a little bit to omit the fact that you have another man in your room. That while no, Yuri isn’t with you, someone else is. Not that you aren’t allowed to have guy friends, half your friends back home are, and Nel doesn’t care, he trusts you.

Also, it’s not like anything will ever happen. You two are friends and you’re quite content in your relationship.

It just feels a little too much like lying—But it’s not.

And keeping it a secret was your decision. You have to stick with it.

“Who beckons?” Jungkook asks, eyes on the screen. A car chase currently capturing his attention.

“Just Nel letting me know he got his ticket for fall break,” a strawberry meets  your tongue, mmm. “I’m so excited to have him for a whole eight days.”

It’d taken you a minute to tell Jungkook about Nel, primarily because the topic never really came up and because you thought going “Oh by the way I have a boyfriend” randomly might’ve made Jungkook think you thought he was trying to flirt or get with you, even though you knew that wasn’t the case. It was just an awkward situation you didn’t know how to properly approach.

But conveniently, just as he got your number in the first place, Jungkook saw ‘Nelly <3’ pop up on your phone screen one day while you were at the greenhouse.

“Hey, YN, you have a text from a ‘Nelly heart emoticon’?” He calls to you.

You were walking out of the cafe, hot chocolate with mini marshmallows in hand. “Oh, that’s Nel, well, Cornelius, but he hates his full name so I just call him Nel. He’s my boyfriend.”

You swear Jungkook stiffens at the word boyfriend, but it��s such a small change you can't tell if it actually happened or if you imagined it. You decide it was the latter as his reply is normal.

Well…normal for him at least.

“Boyfriend, hmmmm? Since when? You never told me about a boyfriend. Would I approve? Does he treat you well? He showers right? Some guys say they do and then wear too much cologne to cover up the fact that they don’t,” Jungkook’s leaning in now, like a detective conducting an interview. His only tell that he’s joking, a quirked lip. His eyes on the other hand…

You indulge him. “Since the end of 10th grade, I never told because you never asked, I think you two would get along actually, and yes he does. To both.”

Jungkook stares, squinting at—no—into you. Trying to decide if you’re lying about that last part. “Damn,” and you thought you detected a hint of defeat in his voice. But if there was, he recovered fast.

“That’s a long time, I’m glad you’re with someone who treats you well, and showers,” honing in on you again, he looks like he’s mentally deciding something, then nods. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”

“But I’m not sorry?”

“You’re still forgiven.”

Back in the present, Jungkook asks with wider eyes than normal, “Does that mean I won’t see or hear from you for a week?”

Jungkook isn’t leaving campus for fall break. His family will be in another country then—a regularly scheduled trip from the middle of October to the second week of November. This is the first year he won’t be going.

“Uhm.. yeah probably. I only get to see Nel in the summer, a day during Solstice break if I’m lucky, and fall reading week, so I try to maximize my time when I’m with him.”

You and Nel are both always too busy to do anything for the spring reading week because you’re trying to wrap up your school years. Nel is only able to come your way during the fall because he isn’t at his school on scholarship, and doesn’t rely on being a top student to be there. Though he’s still brilliant.

He’s studying architecture at the Eastern College of Architecture and Design and is proudly ranked somewhere in the middle to higher area of his class. 

Unfortunately, his program also requires him to stay longer during the Solstice break, so anytime he does have during it, he wants to spend with his family—which you understand. Solstice is important to your mother too, so it works out that you spend that time with her.

Therefore, summer and fall break are your favourite times of the year. Your Nel Time.

Long distance is hard, and you plan out this week with Nel in the summer to maximize every second you have with him.

Every single precious second.

“Oh… okay,” Jungkook looks back to the movie, focusing hard on the explosions. But pipes up again after a minute. “What about your study times? I thought you mentioned a while ago that you always study through breaks.”

“I do. We do. Nel studies with me, we go to the greenhouse cafe or the library or wherever. He understands that my education has to come first for now. He’s always said my dedication to my future was one of the first things that attracted him to me in the first place.”

You're smiling again, recalling the memory.

You and Nel met at an art show your high school put on; you displaying your paintings and him his architectural drawings. Barely sixteen and seventeen back then.

You were making the rounds, looking at all the other pieces submitted by students, when his drawings caught your eye.

They were of a very futuristic looking house that was built into the side of a mountain. It was made of glass, wood and a dark material you didn’t know the name of.

It was beautiful. You wanted to live somewhere like that someday.

He saw you staring and struck up a conversation, complimenting your work when he asked if you were in the gallery too and you pointed your section out to him.

That night he asked for your number, and here you were, five years later at twenty-one and twenty-two.

Nel being older by a year.

That was something else you’d noticed a while ago too; that you almost always had older guys around compared to younger.

You guessed something in you subconsciously preferred that. Not having the energy to deal with the hormone induced insanity younger guys tend to have. All of them more than happy to prove themselves the biggest asshole in the room.

Nor did you like the odors and cockiness that oozed from them. Jungkook had a point about guys showering habits.

Older guys always seemed more mature, not in a literal sense, you know most men are children when given the right topic. It was more of a they didn't care what people thought, they were more polite, knew what they wanted and what personal hygiene was.

Though once you were considered ‘one of the guys’ that last one changed really quickly. They just got better at hiding it. Again, Jungkook had a point.

But…well, Nel was older, and Hobi—one of your best friends from back home—was older by a few years too. Most if not all of your guy friends from school were, not one from your grade ever making their way into your social circle.

Even Jungkook’s older by three years. Having turned twenty four about a week before you met him.

The twenty four year old in question has the smallest pout when he asks, “Does that mean I can’t go to the greenhouse for a week?”

You’re quick to clarify. “No, you can do whatever you like. But if I see you, I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you. It’s easier for everyone that way.” You yawn, the repercussions of your actions from earlier in the week coming back in full force. You’re only a half hour or so into the movie. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook is silent for a minute, in what you assume to be a processing moment. Then,

“When do I get you back?”

Odd phrasing, but you’re one of his only friends on campus, so it makes sense that not speaking or seeing you for a week may feel like you’re being ‘taken away.’

“Nel leaves the following Sunday night, so I’ll have to miss movie night twice—sorry again. Maybe you can use that freed up time for yourself and just relax? Midterms are coming up and you don’t want to burn yourself out. Or maybe you could ask some other friends over those nights?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you he hasn't made any other friends yet. That even after almost two months, you‘re still the only person he’s met that treats him how he’d requested on his first day. The only person he enjoys being around.

Everyone else still looks at him and only sees opportunity for them.

Not him.

Nobody ever saw him.

He didn’t know that being out on his own for the first time would be so isolating. Lonely.

He’d gotten used to having people who were used to him being around them. Whether they were his security—who aren’t scared to make jokes at his expense, having seen him as a teenager and growing up—but they’re here to do a job, not hang out. Or the couple of servants kids he’d grown up with who he considers his true friends.

People he didn’t have to hide around. Wear the mask of ‘prince’ around.

But they were back home at the palace. He doesn’t have them here.

He’d been looking forward to university for almost five years, to have his first and last taste of freedom before signing his life away to kingdom and crown. And he isn’t upset with his experience so far, but at the same time, Jungkook feels like he’s missing out.

Making lifetime friends is supposed to be a part of the experience, isn't it?

He’d made a few predictions about how his university experience would go prior to actually being here. So far, the only things he’s gotten right was where his grades sat, his love for what he was studying and, regrettably, the fact that no one could get over the stupid word that’s been in front of his name since birth. The one that separates him from everyone else.

A small part of him foolishly hoped it wouldn't change anything.

But it did, because it always does, because everyone cares. Everyone wants something from him.

Everyone except you.

You don’t care that he’s The Prince. You call him on his shit, and threaten to send his fictional nudes to media outlets for a laugh. You let him borrow you for some of his homework assignments when he needs a model, and he tries to return the favour whenever you need one for a figure study.

You buy his coffee when you get to the cafe before him, even though he knows you know he doesn’t need you too. Even when he has all the money in the world, and you’re on a tight budget.

But you know his coffee order, and you are kind.

You’re kind to him because you want to be and not because you think it will get you something from him.

You’re kind because it is innate to you. Because you’re different from most people, unintentionally so. You’re not kind to gain recognition or to stand out.

You see the world around you and feel inspired to create beautiful things, both on and off the canvas.

In life and in feelings and friendships.

So you are the only one he’s befriended. And that’s been enough for him. 

You’re enough.

But you’re not his. You’re someone else’s.

Someone who was smart enough to get to you first.

He can’t have you. He’ll never come first.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll have a guys night,” he brushes off with a white lie. The first he’s ever told you. And a part of him hates himself for it.

He’s come to love movie night too. And to miss one, let alone two feels…wrong.

He likes having a tradition of his own making. One that doesn’t come from anything calendar related or of his family’s making. One that he doesn’t ever want to give up.

He likes spending that time with you.

You, snuggled up in too many blankets on his couch, or resting into the bean bag chairs on your floor, munching away and watching whatever movie. Talking about nothing and everything all night.

Laughing together. Joking together. Being present together and simply enjoying one another’s company.

But Jungkook understands that Nel comes first.

Jungkook understands that it would be selfish of him to expect you to spend some of your only time that you get with Nel, with him instead.

Because Nel is your boyfriend, and Jungkook is just your…friend.

“Thanks for understanding Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

Jungkook looks at you when the movie ends.

You’re sleeping.

Silently in your bean bag chair, your head leaning to the side, mouth open a little.

He doesn’t know when you fell asleep.

Conversation dwindled after your text from Nel, and he’d focused mostly on the movie after that to distract himself.

He sees your plate is empty of all foods, healthy and unhealthy alike, and a side-mouthed smile lifts his cheek.

You’d listened to him. 

For once.

You look so peaceful, like you’re dreaming.

He hopes it’s a good dream.

You warned him that your study habits before exams aren’t the healthiest but that they worked, and that you just needed a bit of recovery time afterward. He knew you were tired the second you opened the door in the cutest pajamas and bunny slippers he’s ever seen.

But there were dark circles under your eyes, and he could see your energy levels weren’t the same as they usually were.

That’s why he brought the fruit and vegetable trays and charcuterie board. He had a feeling you needed to get some real food into you to help with your current state. That it would bring some nourishment back into your body, help you feel better.  

And by the looks of the quiet, rhythmic breaths leaving you, they did their job. Your dark circles disappearing, cheeks regaining some colour.

He thinks about waking you for a second, before deciding against it. He doesn’t want to disturb you finally getting the rest you so clearly need.

Instead, he gets up from his seat and moves the remaining food to the ground, pulls the blankets of your bed back and gently slides his arms under your knees and back, lifting.

In your semi-unconscious state from being moved, you slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle your head into the junction where his shoulder meets his neck.

Jungkook’s heart thumps, and for reasons he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to uncover, stands just a second longer with you in his arms, as you clutch yourself to him. 

Your skin under his fingertips, and lips resting near his neck.

Warm.

He takes a small breath before placing you down on your bed with the utmost care, and tucking you in.

There’s a fleeting thought of lips meeting forehead, but it’s gone before it ever arrives.

Jungkook turns to shut down the computer, then plugs your phone into its charger on your night stand and gathers the leftover food and drinks. He brings them to your kitchen and puts them away neatly into your fridge.

While doing so he notices all of the juices on the shelf and has to hold back a laugh.

You really weren’t kidding.

Silently retrieving his hat, mask and jacket silently from your room, Jungkook’s mind is reeling as he takes one last look at your sleeping form, before slipping from your room and sliding his shoes on by the door.

He exits your building, entering into the cool night with three things unable to leave his mind.

1.  The feeling of your arms around his neck, holding tightly. Refusing to let go.

2. Your hair smells like apples. Sweet ones. The ones that the castle's orchard produces for his family only. Like a piece of home.

And,

3. That in order to save whatever this friendship you two have is, he’s going to have to listen to his father’s only advice before sending him off to university. A piece of advice he never intended on listening to, until now.

To save this before he ruined it.

“While you’re at that school you need to look for a future wife. You’re going to be 24 soon enough, and you’ll be 28 by the time that you finish. The Royal Academy has all of your generation's most eligible women. Find the best one, and pick her. She’d be a fool to say no.

“And If you want my opinion,” Jungkook doesn’t but he knows his father is going to tell him whether he wants to know or not, “There’s a girl there named Adaline Dupree, she’s twenty-one, from a well bred family, of high social standing, and beautiful. She’s been on my radar for potential matches for you since you were young.

“Start with her.”

Jungkook gulps, getting into the black sedan that’s waiting for him outside.

You wake up in your bed.

You wake up in your bed?      

How did you get in your bed? Weren’t you just—?

You look for your phone, and in your search see that the computer is closed, your phone is plugged in and that the food and Jungkook are gone.

Fuck.

Did you fall asleep during the movie? 

You can’t remember.

Fuck!

Morning light is slowly crawling up your walls like ivy, the sun just barely creeping over the horizon. And you jolt in panic.

It’s Monday. Did you set your alarms last night? How early is it?

Scrambling for your phone, you read 7:43am and exhale a dramatic breath.

Your first class isn’t till nine.

Heart rate decelerating, you fall back onto your pillow. You feel rested, like you got a full night's sleep and then some. Like you’re finally recovered from the hell you put yourself through to thrive academically.

That’s the fastest you’ve done that since highschool. Only two days?

What changed this time?

Pulling the blankets back over you, the question of ‘how did you get into your bed?’ returns.

Did you wake up by yourself at some point during the night and get yourself there? Did you stay awake for the movie and slither in after Jungkook left? Or did Jungkook have to wake you up to tell you he was leaving?

You cringe, hoping it isn’t that one.

And if it is, you’re glad you don’t remember.

But with that troubling thought and a yawn, you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep, so you yank your sheets off and walk to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You can feel with a run of your tongue over them that you forgot too last night, and you need to get all of yesterday's grime off.

Half way through brushing, you quickly check the fridge for your usual morning breakfast items, only to find all of last night's uneaten snacks inside. There’s still a decent amount of fruits and vegetables left, and you decide that instead of your usual toast, jam and juice, you would use the fruit and borrow a little bit of Yuri’s yogurt for your first meal of the day. Considering it a consultation fee for the inevitable conversation about the duke later, where you will most definitely be asked for your opinion on many things.

After a return to the bathroom to spit and wash, you make a mental note to thank Jungkook for the brain food. You’re going to need it.

You [7:54am]: thanks You [7:55am]: for the food. You [7:55am]: It helped

Chapter 5: Shocking Announcements and Camouflaged Expectations

A/N 2: Thanks for waiting for her <3

<- Back

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 21

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 21: new things

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Winter came and with it lots of new things.

For starters, Lucifer and I found out how to let the shadow souls move on. I had to give them my own energy and hand them off to him. While he wasn't the one who made judgement on a soul, he had the power to send the soul to those who did.

The only problem with this was that it required Lucifer's presence and left me utterly exhausted. I had killed hundreds of opponents as a ring fighter so letting them all pass would take a long time.

Another new thing was our Demon seamstress and architect, Arleen. She had lived on the surface for most of her life with her single mother, who taught her everything she knows of thread work. She helped her mother run her store while attending a big university for architecture. After the big Demon reveal, she and her mother ran for Hell, quickly realizing it wasn't that much better. There was no debate when she saw our posters.

She instantly became a celebrity in the haven. Not only did her Demon side stand out, beautiful red butterfly wings and a long, thin matching tail, but her charming personality caught all men, women, and children. She walked and spoke with an air of elegance and never turned away a sad soul. Althea was grateful for her since everyone had deemed the healer as also a therapist. She now had more time to herself.

Arleen was always making something. She had dozens of requests for certain types of clothes or outfits since everyone pretty much wore the same thing. Husker was in charge of a group that would go out to get the materials she needed.

She liked to spend time outside and thus, people would sit around her like children listening to a bedtime story while she worked on her current project. Althea and I both noticed a sense of overwhelment from her after the first month. I spoke to Vivian, our teacher, and she agreed to convince some of the older teenagers to start learning how to sew. Arleen worked well with the teenagers who felt like they were finally giving something back to their community.

Alastor and I had come up with the idea to keep the haven wrapped in a warm greenhouse during the day. Snow turned to rain as soon as it touched the 'shield' and the temperature was kept nice and warm. The responsibility switched between me, Alastor, Husker, and Charlie.

My relationship with Alastor was...increasing? Getting better? I felt a combination of nervousness and excitement whenever I was around him. I noticed he had a tendency to leave a rose nearby, whether that was in my room or on the side table when I was reading. He also initiated fleeting touches like our shoulders bumping or hands 'accidentally' brushing.

It soon became a habit for me to spend time in his room in the evening. I had grown comfortable enough that I laid on the window seat to read while he sat at the table to do his writing. I enjoyed seeing him in such a calm state. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose, eyes focused and jumping slightly to read the words and copy them down, his claws gripping the pen and moving it smoothly across the paper, and his long, elegant legs shifting every so often.

We had decided not to reinstate the deals. I didn't think it was necessary to try to keep him out of my head since he had been doing well with respecting my boundaries.

He didn't think it was necessary to keep our second deal since we usually started our evenings drinking each other's blood. He had found a way to use his magic to make it less painful and my style of magic could heal the wounds perfectly.

My decision to keep our first deal void was reinforced when nightmares started to plague me again. These were normal nightmares but they weren't any less terrifying. I dreamt of Reagan being killed by Blackwater or turning on me and driving a knife into my heart. I dreamt of Blackwater trapping both Alastor and I and killing him in front of me.

After most of the nightmare had happened, Alastor's presence would seep into my mind and push the fear out. He couldn't nix it altogether, but it was better to feel the after-comfort.

Blackwater had gone underground again. His factories had been abandoned, minus all the inventions and everything, and remained hidden from everyone's radar. I somehow always managed to bring him up, Alastor patiently trying to tell me everything would be fine.

"We will know if he even comes close to the haven," he answered one night.

"But we won't. I didn't even feel his presence in the forest before he hit me. He can hide himself somehow."

"We have a large group, dare I say close to an army, of Demons who are constantly watching out for danger on our borders. He will be found."

"What about the ocean? He could come...from...there..." My words slowed as Alastor stood up to remove his jacket, revealing a red button up underneath. He had straps over his shoulders from his waistband and a single one over his chest to connect them. He draped the jacket over the back of the chair and returned to his seat. His eyes found mine.

"I do enjoy making you speechless," he mused, face in his palm.

My face reddened. I wanted to make a retort but failed, the words dying on my tongue. I let out a huff and returned to my book. I was lounging comfortably on the window seat, wind softly whistling against the glass.

I'm not sure when, but Alastor had begun signing along to the radio. Not humming. Singing. It took one song to have my book on my stomach and eyes closed. I felt his mind brush mine and let him push through. My entire body felt comfortably warm, as if he was embracing me, something I doubt he's done since his mother and sister passed.

No words could describe the state I was in. Content, happy, and safe are all good words, but they still couldn't capture it. I was practically in a trance from the sound of his radio filtered voice singing the soft tunes. I didn't want it to stop. I could stay like this for all of eternity.

Smoke, like a bonfire, reached my noise a second before it was replaced by a rainy, earthy scent. I pushed further, wanting to surround myself with nature where I belonged. I felt like I was in a patch of tall, soft grass and rolling around in it on a summer afternoon.

My dreams continued. I found myself flying through the sky and through the soft clouds, or down in a stream enjoying the cool running water over my face. Nature was beautiful. Nature was safe. I wanted to meld myself and become one with it.

I stretched out my arms and legs, lazily pulling myself out of the sweet dream. It was the best I had slept in...ever. I felt refreshed and warm, perfectly comfortable and unwilling to get out my bed.

But it wasn't my bed.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized the sheets were not mine. I slowly lifted my head to find Alastor asleep beside me, head turned away and a single hand underneath the pillow.

I forced my claws to retract so I wouldn't puncture the soft sheets. I ran a hand over my body to feel my clothes still on me. I didn't believe he would do something like that but it was an innate fear.

The room was dark, save the single day of sunlight managing to poke through the heavy red curtains. The air felt thick and heavy, not in a suffocating way, but in a way that said nothing and no one had moved in hours. The fire was dead and his papers were still scattered on the table, pen and glasses sitting atop.

I turned back to look at him, half expecting him to be smiling at me, but he remained asleep. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. He wore a black long sleeve of some kind but the rest of him was hidden under the covers.

I used my magic to stay as quiet as possible as I climbed out of bed. He stirred and I froze. When his eyes didn't open, I continued. I had backed all the way to the door, hand on the handle, when his voice suddenly sliced through the silence, "I'm awake, you know."

My breath caught in my throat. My hand tightened around the handle as he moved to sit up. His hair was a little messy and his eyes were half open as he fought off sleep.

"I-I was trying to be quiet," I stuttered. "I'm s--I'm sorry. I'll leave." Before he could say anything, I slipped out of his room and closed the door behind me. I looked at my own door but froze. Standing in the hallway, at the top of the stairs, was Angel Dust. Husker's old, small room neighbored mine.

We just stared at each other for a moment. Our minds were trying to register what the other was doing. Angel recovered the fastest and had a wide grin on his face.

"Doing more than kissing?" he teased.

My face turned bright red. I ran for my door but before closing it I said, "Guess the haven doesn't have a lot of privacy."

I stayed in my room until I felt Husker's presence go down the stairs. In my usual attire, I made breakfast with him in the kitchen. We were both comfortably silent as we cooked and moved expertly around the counter.

Once we sat down, my ears picked up Alastor's movement. I heard his shadow going through the walls and picked up conversation to avoid any with him.

"So, how's Angel?" I asked.

He was pouring alcohol into his coffee. He looked at me sideways. "How should I know?"

"Because he was coming out of your room this morning."

All his fur stood up and he choked on his coffee, earning a laugh from me. "It's not what you think. We were just..."

"Sleeping together?" Alastor manifested behind us, making us jump. He was back in his usual attire.

"We weren't having sex if that's what you're trying to get at." An angry cat growl murmured in the back of his throat.

"Just sleeping next to each other?" I offered, using all my effort not to look at Alastor and keep my voice casual.

"Exactly. Now shut up and eat." He shoved the plate closer to me.

"You know," I said next, trying to avoid any silence with Alastor around, "maybe you should request something from Arleen. Get you a top to match these." I gently tugged on the straps over his shoulders.

"Maybe I'll go back to the color orange." He made a pointed look at Alastor who was staring out the window over the sink.

"Go back?"

"I used to wear orange a lot before I came under Alastor. Apparently he thought I looked better in red."

"Indeed you do," Alastor agreed, not yet looking over at us. It made me nervous not to see his face, but I wasn't sure I could handle meeting his eyes either.

We ate in silence for the most part. Once we had finished, Husker noticed the time on the wall and panicked. He had to run out to get more materials and resources with his group. I told him not to worry about the dishes and he nuzzled his nose to the side of my head as a thank you. It felt good to have a brother figure.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I moved to the sink to wash the dishes. Alastor moved to stand by the backdoor, arms folded behind his back and eyes on me. I was too nervous to see if he had his cane or not.

I took my time cleaning the dishes since it was just plates and silverware for two. He remained dead silent until I inevitably finished, dried, and put them away.

I dried my hands and finally met his eyes. "What is it?"

"Did I overstep?" His radio filter was off.

I looked at him for a moment, hands mindlessly drying nothing on my skin. I touched our minds and felt a small pulse of nervousness that wasn't my own. He was genuinely concerned.

"I don't...I don't think so." I hung the towel on the cabinet handle and slid my hands in my pants pocket. "I mean...I think that was the best sleep I've ever had."

The bottom of his eyes scrunched a little and his eyebrows lifted, telling me the smooth smile was genuine now. He crossed the kitchen to stand in front of me, hand out and waiting.

"I had a restful sleep myself. Perhaps we can make it more frequent?"

His forwardness was making my face warm and my heart run twice its speed. It caught in my throat and I had to swallow before I answered, placing my hand on top of his and watching each claw slowly enclose around it. He turned it over and placed a light kiss on the back of my hand.

"That would be nice."

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Author's Note:

Touch starved, my little devils? I've had this scene stuck in my head since like A1 part 17

Also, welcome new OC Arleen!

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Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch

[intheholler]

brought up in the rolling hills of greater appalachia, there were scarce times, there were good times, and there were rough times. just like anywhere else. but at all times there was hope and community, no matter the circumstance.

as many negative things as i hear about the place i live and as many experiences i have had that align with such criticisms, there were a thousand more instances where i was blessed with an enchanting, community enriched childhood. i will never forget or under-appreciate the closeness of neighbors despite our long lengths from one another.

what i mean to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

my Daddy is a pastor and my Mama the most down to earth pastor’s wife to walk this sweet, dark-soiled land we are so blessed to live on. even though my father and i don’t always get along, my mother and i are and will forever be the most kindred of spirits. through her wit, her will, and her wisdom, many traditions of appalachia have been passed down to me.

your porch ceiling best be haint blue, and you had better never close another person’s pocket knife. always gift a hand-quilted or crocheted blanket at every baby shower you ever attend. sprinkling salt at every doorway while squeaking out a hushed and hastened prayer for protection.

even those are just a few traditions that i can credit to my culture and my mother who instilled it in me. and that installation is so incredibly important. so as not to lose our rich, beautiful, and complex history.

the first rumblings, the soft spot

an important experience that i would argue helps many appalachian children to realize their culture and heritage is when they, for the first time, listen in to the kitchen talk among cousins. how Papaw can’t read so well because he never got to finish up school and why Uncle Rick got this new job manufacturing cars. how Meemaw lost her baby to scarlett fever and how Miss Deretta down the road worked at the children’s home where your cousin Thomas got dropped off in a cardboard box after a flood that demolished the apartments uptown. slowly, piece by piece, your young mind starts to understand the ebb and flow of unspoken community support. the gentle hand holding taking place through the entire mountain range. the interwoven families that aren’t any kin.

running interference

as you grow up, unfortunately, the world seeps in, slow and clever as a fox in the hen house. making your own out to be some sort of gnawing hillbilly that don’t know their ass from grass. and suddenly when someone asks where you’re from you’re ashamed to admit it. the only thing that you and friends talk about is getting out and seeing new places, away from the parents and the gossip pew of your respective churches. on friday night you all meet up in the Dollar General parking lot and carpool to your school’s football game so that you can shout wildly inappropriate cheers at the rival of the night from the student section. you run into Mrs Connor while washing your hands in the restrooms behind the stadium and when she tells you vibrant stories of your Pa in high school, skipping for deer hunting season along with half of the class of ‘68, you appreciate her. and you don’t know it, but every interaction like that, grows your mountain heart bigger, making more room for story after story.

one of my friends is now engaged to the man who was their starting quarterback. the two of them are the sweetest of couples. the world is perfectly small here.

weeks-long revival and a singing every night

after an innocent turned passionate kiss in your church crush’s car, you find space on the pew with the rest of your youth group, leaving room for jesus, of course. Aneoumes (an-nay-mus, unique name, i know) the church Dulcimer player brings out his fine jnstrument with Mrs Dorothy, the pianist and the previously mentioned Mrs Connor on the organ to do their own mesmerizing renditions of When the Roll is Called up Yonder, I’ll Fly Away, The Gloryland Way, Mansion Over the Hilltop, He Set me Free, Heaven’s Jubilee, and the baptist favorite, Amazing Grace making for a beautiful night of harmony among voices. anymore you weren’t sure what you believed (not that you dared to tell a soul, or even say it out loud) but you knew good and well that church brought people together and helped those in need, and both of those were things you could get on board with. of course the politics were messy, but you could mostly keep your lips sealed. your home church certainly did more to feed the hungry than the government officials who were supposedly all libbed up, or at least that is what they’d pushed.

suddenly, this place didn’t seem so bad. you were worn smack out but only because of the late company, which you certainly didn’t mind in exchange for a typical night of hot, early sleep. when you got home Todd Lee your neighbor was still cutting hay and so the putputput of his tractor lulled you off to sleep. he told you “it keeps the sugar in, seeing’s that it’s nice and cool out in the dark” he had told you when you let him know that his lively tractor sounds put you at peace every night.

something about this place felt more special, fonder, than what you had understood in your younger teen years.

the first leaving

your dad received a stimulus check during the pandemic and decided to go visit his aunt Barbara on the northeast coast. being away from home a whole week felt like a pig being gutted and packed, still warm in the patties. it was awful. every night you cried, holding your younger siblings who did the same, no one here smiled or talked to you and the rain didn’t smell right, the food was bland and blended all together in taste, worst of all there was nowhere to be that wasn’t covered in concrete and where there was, you had to pay for access. when the mountains finally came back into sight, your heart leaped and tears fell from your eyes. that moment was as close to divine intervention as you’d felt since your baptism. gratitude overwhelmed your senses and you thanked jesus for being born where you were. where people were friendly and food was good and friends were close and everything was wide open.

for a moment you wondered if when David wrote “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” if he too was experiencing the peace of returning home after a tumultuous time away.

the second leaving and the enthusiastic return

now, you’re headed off to college. it grips at your heart that you won’t be with the supportive community around you that you’ve always had. but this time the leaving makes sense. you’ll educate yourself on how to teach and help others, you’ll take extra, unnecessary classes on heritage and both cultural and natural history. upon your return you get to take all that hurt from being away and pour back into the place that has loved you so well. and you get to be the next generation to tell your own kiddos to keep the haints from their houses and their hands to the knives in their own pockets.

hopefully your loving will look a bit different, cast a wider net so that those kids who weren’t as lucky as you feel accepted in the community of people around them.

most importantly when you return with your degree and your license to teach, you can instill pride in those children, let them know that these lush hills and woods and creeks and mountains they call home really are some of the most wonderful places this world has to offer up. encourage them to believe that professional speaking is not removed from their dialect but rather in their clarity of conveyance. uplift the idea that time spent with family and friends, neighbors and strangers alike is to be valued. and most importantly in my book, teach them to appreciate the stories they are told, to remember them whether mentally or by doing some manual record keeping. our stories are our testaments to the fulfilling life that can be lived here. and the stories of our neighbor may have a great impact in our thinking.

what i’m trying to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

(i got totally carried away, sorry it’s so long)

.