#and my inability to write surroundings and areas :^)

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk in Heels

AN: Alright, finally got this one done! It's a longer chapter than what I've been putting out recently so I hope you all enjoy it. Take it as an apology to make up for my slacking. I had planned to get it done in October, but then I got really hyperfixated on the live action and anime One Piece (still am to be honest). About 109 episodes in on the anime and have A LOT more to go lol. Anyways, enjoy!

Ps, this chapter is a little angsty. Little bit. At least I think it is. Also has gun violence and typical RE stuff. I noticed I gave up on the TW so hope none of you got traumatized. I don't think I write anything too crazy. We should all know what we've signed up for by now, right?

Chapter 23:

“My, you are a popular one, Luis.”

Ada's comment rang very true. Your eyes struggled to see through the harsh rain from the storm that seemed to appear so suddenly. Even so, you could still see the torches and hear the angry chanting of the villagers surrounding the house you and Ada were supposed to meet Luis at. If you had to guess, nearly every infected citizen of Los Iluminados was in attendance of your little get together.

“I don't remember inviting them to the party.” You half-heartedly joked as you ran along Ada's side, falling slightly behind her once you reached a rickety old, wood and rope bridge that groaned and creaked too much for comfort. “You?”

Your love huffed a weak smile, but could not respond when a sudden and harsh shake of the ground shook the fragile bridge and sent you both scrambling for something stable to balance and hold on to, so as to not fall to your doom.

Another shake. 

You both glanced behind you.

Another. 

This time closer. Something big is coming.

Ada tightly grabbed hold of you for what seemed like the millionth time in one night, grappling you both to the closest and safest roof top and off the bridge. This, somehow, gathered the attention of some of the villagers.

You stared in disbelief at the snarling giant that walked into the, already chaotic, scene. 

“What in the actual fuck is that?” Even with all your prior experience with what should be impossible creatures, you are still somehow always shocked and horrified by something new. 

At least you were never bored.

The giant took notice of you and Ada, before charging in your direction. Ada took action and zipped the two of you off of the roof of the now destroyed house, landing you both safely on the ground. The giant yelled angrily at missing, and turned around to face you once more.

“You deal with the villagers while I handle this?” Ada muttered to you, grappling hook in hand and ready to swing on the houses to avoid the creature while simultaneously weakening it.

Noting your inability to deal with such a huge foe, you nodded in agreement. “Be safe.” 

She squeezed your hip in acknowledgment before fully pulling away. “You as well, dear.”

With that, she turned to face the giant head on. “Sorry big guy. Can't let you go that way.” 

And off she went to fight and distract the giant from getting to the house. While she did that, you ran to a safe distance away from the crushing footsteps and the crumbling houses, picking off the infected stragglers that roamed the area as swiftly and quietly as possible. 

You didn't want Ada to have more on her plate than she already has.

Quiet wasn't an issue. If anything managed to hear you over the chanting villagers, roaring giant, and the howling wind and rain, you'd be genuinely surprised. And maybe even a little impressed.

Eventually, the giant fell on top of the two remaining villagers you didn't get to, dead. All was silent at last, with the exception of the pouring rain that was turning into more of a light drizzle, showing some sign of slowing down for at least a little while.

You saw Ada from afar walking towards the giant corpse. A pang of worry went through you when you saw how angry she visibly was. This wasn't normal Ada behavior. She usually managed to keep her emotions in check during missions. 

The closer you walked, you noticed a wiggling creature on the giant's back, a parasite if you had to guess. It moved like it wanted to get away from its dead host. Away from Ada.

Ada stomped her heeled boot onto the creature to lessen its writhing. She took out her pistol and aimed it at the creature. “Now stay down.” 

One. Two. Three gunshots rang out into the stormy night air. The parasite went limp and Ada gave one final kick of annoyance to the felled creature, tucking her gun away before she faced you fully.

“You alright?” You asked her, doing your best to mask your concern so as to not anger her further. She was clearly in a sort of fragile state at the moment. And you knew the infection had part of, if not everything, to do with it. She took a deep breath before nodding a yes.

“I was getting a little annoyed, but now I'm good. Let's go.” She beckoned, leading you away from the giant. “Sweet dreams.” She snarked to the corpse as you left.

More than a little annoyed. That much was clear as day. Every plan and action took during this mission has led to one problem after another. And everything with Wesker and whatever the dangerous virus was coursing through her veins did not help. 

You weren't sure how much time she had left before the virus took full control of her. Ada appeared to become more and more anxious about it too, as time went on and it seemed no progress was really made in retrieving the Amber. 

Still, you kept quiet. You didn't want to further irritate her. And if she didn't want to talk, then you weren't going to force her. 

Your thoughts were put on hold when you saw Luis safely strolling down the path just below the rock formation you and Ada were waiting on. He noticed you both and with a look of relief he sped walked toward you.

“Luis! Glad to see you made it out of that mess safe.” You called out with a grin. He smiled back at your genuine enthusiasm.

“Oh, that? That was nothing, Sénorita.” He gestured behind himself with a careless wave, as if he didn't just get away from a swarm of probably one hundred infected people looking for blood. As if he's dealt with bigger, worse things at some point and this was just a walk in the park. He smirked at your look of disbelief. “Got a smoke?” 

“I do. The kind you like.” Ada remarked, though she made no move to hand over the pack of cigarettes he earlier abandoned with radio numbers written down to get into contact again. 

“Now, where is the Amber?” Ada questioned, done with the pleasantries and wanting to finish the business at hand.

“Unfortunately, it's not on me at the moment.” He sighed as he walked forward and began to attempt a climb up the rocks to get to you both, grunting with the effort. “And you really should be telling me what-” He paused, huffing from the exertion, before continuing.

“What a good job I did. Busted my ass and managed to hide it right before I got caught. Which,” He stumbled during the climb, but saved himself from slipping. “Is why I'm still alive!”

His triumphant tone made the corners of your mouth tug upward in amusement, but it quickly turned into a frown once you glanced to your left and saw how his words affected the already on edge Ada. Hopefully she won't do anything extreme.

He had nearly made the climb, but still reached his hand out for additional assistance from one of you. You went to help, but Ada stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm before crouching down with a sigh to be more leveled with Luis.

“The deal was we get you out of here when you deliver the Amber. No Amber, no 'protection’, Luis.” She reminded him. There was no room for nonsense in her entire demeanor. No more time to waste. 

He gave a forced and slightly annoyed laugh. Likely in irritation from the long day he's had and Ada showing no appreciation for the fact that he was trying. Though in her mind, he wasn't trying hard enough. He was just wasting both of your precious time.

“Such a stickler for details, huh Ada?” Her deadpan expression didn't waver. He glanced at you with a look you couldn't quite decipher, and you shrugged unhelpfully. He let out another sigh before grumbling. “Alright. I'll go get it now, how about that?”

He reached out a hand for help once more, waiting a long moment. You nudged her and Ada finally gave in and helped him up the small, yet hard to climb, cliff.

Once he was up, he patted himself clear of dirt and looked back to the house the villagers bombarded with a tired sigh. “And I do have something else I need to get too.”

Your girlfriend and you shared a look. You gave a huff and shook your head muttering, “This ought to be good.”

—

The castle. Luis had led you both back to the castle. The place where your mission had officially started and where everything had gone to shit pretty much instantaneously. You'd hoped once you left it the first time that you wouldn't have to be back. 

And yet, here you are.

Luis had climbed halfway up the side of the castle he had led you all to enter from before Ada had decided to just grapple you both up the tower, not even bothering to attempt the climb or help the struggling Luis up the rest of the way. He huffed and finished the challenging climb by himself, muttering to himself all the while.

You and Ada remained silent as you waited for him. Ada, not only because she was pissed, but also because she was stuck in her own head, running through the statistics of how many more distractions and side quests she had in her before the virus took over and she lost total control of herself. You just let her be, not having much to say that would soothe her concerns due to you feeling the exact same way. 

You wish you could continue to tell her it would be alright, but the longer this mission takes, the more you see her condition beginning to take its toll. Not just in her behavior. Now it is visible in her physical appearance as well. 

Her eyes had changed. The infection took form in black, vein-like, lines within her eyes. You had noticed prior to finding Luis, when Ada had been manipulated by the bug creature, that similar veins had covered her face while she clutched her head in pain. A clear sign of the virus and its power over her. So to see it remain permanently in her eyes with the monster not in sight… 

It was clear that time was running out.

“You probably didn't plan on coming back here, eh?” Luis questioned as he finally crawled through the hole in the wall you've entered from. 

“I had hoped not.” You admitted. You noticed Ada's calculated silence became more of a simmering, angry, silence. She was not happy with the man. Not one bit.

“Well, plans do change, no?” Luis said, trying to catch his breath from the climb. 

Ada's silence gave him pause. Noting her mood, he turned to you hesitantly before voicing a question you all already knew the answer to. “Are you angry?” 

Her silence spoke volumes, causing you both to grimace. “You're angry.” He concluded. He paused again, debating his next words. You shook your head, knowing by his hesitance that what he has to say won't be good.

He ignored your silent advice, quickly spilling out his next sentence. “There is this one thing I must do before I can recover the Amber.” 

You winced, glancing at Ada who went from a silent simmer to boiling over in about three seconds flat. This won't be good.

Ada was giving Luis a look that could kill, and in return he held his hands up in a placant gesture. 

“Before?” She questioned, voice deceptively calm. And before you could stop her, she had her pistol drawn and pointed right at the man's head. 

“Ada!” Your startled call went ignored by her.  

Heels clicked angrily against the hard floor as she took threatening steps toward Luis, who had raised his hands even higher in an attempt to convince her not to shoot. “This is not a negotiation, Luis. So choose your next words carefully.”

“Oh, woah…” Luis fumbled, taking a shaky breath before taking a slow step to the side. Then another. And another. Ada's gun remained pointed at his head as she turned with him, finger on the trigger and ready to shoot if he gave her an answer she didn't like. 

“Ada-” 

“Stay out of this, Y/n.” Ada told you. Her cold tone gave you pause. While you know it wasn't you she was angry at, you still didn't want to test her when she's like this. 

Especially not with Luis's life on the line.

“It's fine, Sénorita.” Luis said, before giving his full attention to Ada. You listened and backed off. “Listen, there is someone who needs my help… You know me – always the good Samaritan!”

“Let me guess. Leon?” Ada smirked slightly as Luis looked surprised that she knew about Leon. Though her grip on the gun didn't falter.

“Yes! Exactly! Leon and that young woman…” Luis began to slowly back away. Young women? The president's daughter? “They are both infected. They need this medicine. It slows the infection. And I know it works. I used it on myself. So I-”

“And why does this matter to me?” Ada interrupted, quickly closing the distance Luis had managed to make between the two of them. You could think of a few reasons why it matters.

Luis paused, and as if hearing your own thoughts, stated matter of factly, “Because you too are infected.” 

Ada and you shared a look. You were surprised he noticed, given how most of this mission has been spent away from Luis with you and Ada chasing after him.

Luis shook his head, exasperated. “It's what I researched for all these years. And I see the symptoms already showing in your eyes, Ada.”

For the first time since Ada drew the gun, Luis turned his back on her and walked further away with a little more confidence. Even when he was at risk of being shot in the back.

“You must already feel the effects, eh?” He slowly crouched over a trap door, still somewhat mindful of the woman holding the gun on him. “The medicine will stop them for a time. Just, trust me. You have a lot to gain, and nothing to lose!”

Ada seemed to agree with that statement. “Okay. But this is your last chance. We do this first, and then the Amber.” She placed her gun back into the holster with a final stern look, before turning to search around the room for anything useful to be brought with her.

“I'll let Leon know!” Luis exclaimed, happy he convinced her to help. 

You were relieved. And so, so glad Ada agreed. This might be her only chance. Granted, it's not a cure. But it would give you both more time to find the Amber and find an actual cure.

You stood awkwardly in your current place as Luis reached for his radio and made a call. “Hola. Luis here. You guys still around?” He questioned.

A very familiar voice snarked through the speaker of the radio. “Well I wanted to go home, but Ashley just had to see this castle first.”

Ashley. The president's daughter.

Luis grinned. “Perfect, because I have a present I want to give you. Medicine that will help to suppress the progress of your… problem.” 

“Where do we go?” Leon asked.

“Let's see… Come to the courtyard inside the castle. We can meet up there.” Luis decided. “¡Ciao!” 

With that, he hung up the call and turned to speak to the two women patiently and impatiently waiting for him. 

He stood up and set to opening the trap door leading out of the room. “Sorry to keep you both waiting. Shall we?” 

You glanced back at Ada and saw she was ready to go. You nodded as Luis opened the hatch on the floor. “We shall.”

He grinned as he led you both out of the room and down a stairwell. “There's a hidden laboratory downstairs. My stuff should be there.” He explained, jumping down the remaining gap in the stairs to the floor. Likely destroyed due to lack of maintenance in this area of the castle. You jumped down right after him with Ada right behind you.

“Along with the suppressant?” Ada questioned.

“Right,” Luis nodded. “Though first we have to get past this locked gate.” He said, gesturing to the barred area that was preventing you all from going further.

“Leave it to me.” Ada abruptly ran off before you could offer assistance. You shrugged it off, not much you could do given this requires the grappling hook. Which you have yet to get the hang of using and probably never will.

As you and Luis waited, he decided to start up a conversation with you. “So…”

You raised a brow at his hesitance. As if he is trying to figure out if what he is about to say is crossing a boundary. “So?”

He paused, muttering a quick “fuck it”, then proceeded to ask his intended question. 

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked, noting the growing tension between the two of you that you had since excused and ignored.

Not expecting that question, you stuttered and spat out an, “Excuse me?” Wincing slightly at how it came out a little harsh. Not intending to hurt the man in front of you, just taken off guard by the personal question.

Luis scoffed. “Oh please! You two went from the ultimate dream team to practically walking on eggshells around each other.” 

“We still work well together.” You answered, slightly confused by where he was going with this.

“Yes you do, Sénorita.” Luis amended before continuing, “Though I can't help but notice the growing tension between you. What happened?”

You were curious, “Why do you want to know?” 

“Well…” Luis shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the wall behind him with a grin. “I like to think that, despite our short time knowing each other, we are friends. You did save my life after all. And I think I'm allowed to be a little concerned about my friend.”

Your growing defensive demeanor softened slightly, sensing no lie coming from the man in front of you.

“Does that mean Ada is your friend too?” You wondered. He exaggeratedly pondered for a moment.

“Eh, I'm still not so sure about that one. A little testy, no?” He jested, grin widening when the joke resulted in a laugh from you. “But in all seriousness, is everything alright between you two. What with the, uh, virus.” 

Your smile dropped with a sigh. “I'm just worried about her. She hasn't been fully herself. Not the usual Ada I've come to know and love. I just don't know what to do. I- I don't want to make it worse.” You quietly admitted.

“Has she tried to hurt you?” He asked with concern.

“No. But I can see that she grows increasingly more worried that it will happen at some point. She's been slowly distancing herself from me. Not in the physical sense, but mentally. Like she's preparing for the worst case scenario.” 

Luis hummed, “I see. Well don't worry too much, Sénorita. We will get her the help she needs before the worst can happen. Okay?” 

He grinned with a comforting pat to your shoulder. You weakly returned it. Grateful for his considerate words, but also not entirely convinced it would be so easy.

After all, nothing on this entire mission has been easy yet.

[qcellbit]

i dont expect everyone in the world to be medical experts but ive been seeing a lot of comments surrounding q!quackity after his last stream that have bothered me so i thought id clear a few things up (as someone who suffers from a brain injury).

i dont know if quackity the content creator has done his research into brain science but regardless of the federations canon goal with q!quackity, the brain is an extremely delicate organ and its impossible to surgically alter specific memories or traits. they mightve attempted to achieve something specific with their experimentation on him and regardless of whether or not theyve succeeded, theyve undoubtedly given him a brain injury. a brain injury can be caused by any manner of trauma to the brain and often results in:

nonspecific short and long term memory loss

difficulty comprehending written text

significant difficulty writing

significant difficulty speaking

confusion

psychosis (hallucinations)

emotional lability

bizarre and seemingly nonsensical behaviour

improvement is not a straight line and lapses in different areas of ability can occur at random completely disconnected from each other. q!quackity might have no trouble writing certain phrases one minute then be completely unable to write the next, but he might very well be emotionally sound throughout all of this. he may suffer from a long string of lapses in short term memory but be able to write the entire time - IF this is accurate to real life, which im currently treating it as since his symptoms all match my own.

and i cant believe this has to be said but please try to avoid laughing at any of these symptoms...? these are real effects that brain damage can have and giggling at and infantilising his inability to communicate is cruel. ive seen people making jokes about his "keysmashes" when that is something i myself and many other people with brain damage do when trying to text without realising.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I started in DC by reading fanfics, but as I began to read actual comics, I started to be unable to read the actual fanfic that got me into it in the first place because it's so out of character.

But there are still some stories that I love to read because I love the found family trope so much, even if it isn't really accurate to the source material.

As a comics purist (sometimes), are there tropes that you like enough that you'll still enjoy a fic even if it's not accurate to canon?

oh my god this is SUCH a fun question. bc while i started with the comics, there were certain characters and/or character dynamics where i was exposed to the fanon before the canon (just bc it's hard to read everything when you start out just to read some fanfic) and so i've definitely experienced the fanon to canon transition. (*especially* with Jason Todd. i had only read 80s/90s stuff where he was already dead or the New-52 bc that was on-going when i got into comics and man. the fanon misunderstandings i had about him before i got frustrated and sat down to read all his pre-Flashpoint stuff were absolutely bonkers.) and aside from that, whilst i tend to prefer canon over fanon, i'm not past giving fanon its flowers for occasionally having really interesting insights. occasionally. so some of my fanon "guilty pleasure" tropes would probably be

Morally Grey Tim Drake - this is one where if you try to back it up with canon, i *will* get salty about it. of everyone in the Batfam aside from maybe Bruce and Cass, Tim has the *most* black and white morals. often his internal conflicts are routed in such an inability to compromise his moral views and it can cause him to clash with other characters. he's *very* stiff and rigid in his beliefs and is *rare* to compromise in even the smallest ways. i mean, DC has repeatedly used Tim Drake of Tomorrow/Savior/Gun Batman!Tim for a reason. it's to demonstrate that of everyone, Tim *cannot* have his morals compromised. there's no grey area for him. he's zero or a hundred, so if he tips over the edge of "too far" he tips *all the way*, and doing so is one of his worst fears, how he could go "too far" if he let himself. a couple panels out of context from Red Robin (2009) (which was a grief spiral for Tim to begin with) don't change that. now that said. if it's done *right*, i sort of love Tim being morally grey in fanfic. it takes a specific flavor for me, and it's incredibly important to include that mental spiral along with it, of him struggling to justify it. i don't have any interest in "Tim Drake is loosy goosy with Bruce's morals and has the highest kill count and no one knows teehee" bc it doesn't play with the interesting parts of making Tim morally grey, which are fracturing his psyche. but all in all, i think it's fun to put Tim in a morally grey area and i will read it in fanfic and i enjoy writing it a lot

Joker Junior!Tim Drake - i've not written it on this account (yet) but on my main ao3 account one of my biggest fics surrounds this concept. this is one of those "well *technically* it's canon but only in a specific very divorced from the comics universe and would not work at all in the main timeline" so, i categorize it as fanon in that 95% of fics exploring the concept are not doing so within the Batman Beyond universe, but the main timeline. i just love it. I'll take any excuse to whump Tim, but this concept is so fun. psychologically breaking Tim will always be my favorite pastime. there are so many ways to explore the long-term effects this could have on him, how it could affect the Batfam. i'm not a fan of it being used as a "gotcha" to Jason or Babs' trauma with the Joker to paint Tim as the Ultimate Victim, but it is fun to see how their relationships would be affected by being mutual victims of him. (i have a vague JayTim idea where TIm fully retires from being Robin after being Joker Junior and killing the Joker, making Steph Robin for most of his typical Robin era and Jason still tracks him down out of curiosity bc he wants to know what happened and all. very underbaked but i've got thoughts.)

Renegade/Apprentice of Slade!Dick Grayson - this is another one where yes, this happened *sort of* in canon, but i highly doubt most people writing Renegate!Dick have read or are actually pulling from Nightwing: Renegade. it's just an exploration fo the concept fo Dick being Slade's apprentice and i will always eat it up in any capacity. whether Dick grows up with Slade from a young age, or chooses Slade for whatever reason later in life. it's not anything that works in canon bc it compromises Dick morally (similar to the above with Tim) and therefore will always come across incredibly fanon in most fics. but i can't say i don't enjoy it. it's fun to make Dick a little morally fucked up and see what you can make him under Slade's tutelage.

Jason & Damian Meeting in the League -there's no world where i believe this could work in the canon comics. (maybe in the Young Justice cartoon i suppose, but even then i think it's iffy) i would go as far to say it's wildly unrealistic. i don't see a world where Ra's would let Jason anywhere *near* Damian, bc Jason was Talia's pet project that he didn't approve of. that all said, there's something very interesting about how they *could've* met and them potentially bonding during that timeframe. them being somewhat brotherly during this time because Jason sees Bruce in Damian and sort of latches onto the kid and Damian is full of wonder hearing real stories about Batman and Robin, then that getting violently ripped away by Jason leaving the League is fun to me. it's fun how that could affect them within the Batfam and all. it's super fanon to me, but i do not care. i will eat it up

Bad Dad Clark Kent/Good Dad Lex Luthor - i will admit as a late, i've been less and less kind to this particular fanon bc of everything i've argued with people about, *this* one seems the most pervasive as misunderstood fanon. i don't mind when fanon exists, my gripe is when ppl try to claim it's canon. and the *arguments* i've had over this with people who can never seem to cite an actual comic are... frustrating. but that said, i think there is something fun to this strictly in fanon. the duality of who you expect to accept Kon and who you expect to hurt him being flipped is just sort of fun for the occasional guilty pleasure fic. it can make Kon's internal conflict a bit more interesting. the same goes for the Jon favoritism from Clark, it's not a canon thing (and i rlly wish ppl understood how complicated the timeline of Kon and Jon is and any distance from Clark toward Kon isn't malice, it's that Kon is from a timeline that Clark does not remember in the current canon so Clark just straight up doesn't know the poor kid.) but it's sort of fun to give Kon that complex of being overlooked and forgotten sometimes. making Kon just a *bit* more Luthor than Kent will *always* appeal to me in fanfic, especially if he *knows* it's wrong but craves approval from anyone who will give it.

Good Dad Bruce Wayne - i'll die on the hill Bruce is canonically a shitty father. maybe not to the extreme some people write him as, but he's not great at it. that said, i enjoy it in fanfiction. sometimes, i just want silly fluff or hurt/comfort where Bruce finally gets it right and manages to comfort whatever Batkid is in the fic. one of my favorite fics of all time is hinged on Bruce being a good dad, so i think it's just fun to explore how good the relationships *could* be, if Bruce was slightly less of an asshole. i usually prefer him as an asshole, but there are times i want low stakes nonsense.

Gotham Rogues Having Soft Spots for Robin(s) - just about every Rogue in Gotham has done something absolutely irredeemable, and most of them don't like or care about anyone in the Batfamily. but if there's a fic where one of the Robins inexplicably is sort of close with a Rogue and they have a cute silly relationship out of it? I'll eat it up i fear. Steph and the Riddler are besties? I'll believe it. Tim and Scarecrow get along pretty well? give me ten of these. Rogues protecting Robins just hits a spot. the unexpected nature of the relationship, as well as the fact they see each other regularly, can make a lot of good fodder.

[andheresthething]

Let Me Catch Up With Ya’ Honey

Summary: Setting up a new office for your architecture business takes a turn for the best.

[No Use of Y/N] [Established Relationship] [Domestic Fluff] [Pet Names] [Kissing] [Accidental Proposal] [IKEA Furniture] [Interrior Decorating]

•·················•·················•

Notes:

I've had the idea for a while but only got around to writing it recently. Surprisingly, carpal tunnel didn't hinder this one, rather my inability to execute my own ideas and Resident Evil brainrot. Currently out of ideas so hopefully something hits me soon or someone gives a good prompt.

Gender-neutral reader once more :)

As always, character playlist plug.

Reposted from AO3

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

A door slammed, echoing in the sparse room. You were focused on the sheets of wood and bolts splayed across the cold vinyl flooring, not minding the slight commotion behind you.

“Is that the last of it?” you asked the person behind you, continuing your work on what should be a coffee table.

“Yup, U-Haul’s empty. Now, all we need to do is put together all this furniture.”

You gained the will to stop working on your first project to face your boyfriend leaning against one of many large boxes surrounding the entrance to your office. Chairs, desks, tables, and cabinets. All for the two of you to start your next big step in life. Despite his efforts to beat the midday summer heat by wearing one of his crop tops and thin shorts, he still had broken a sweat from lugging all the boxes out of the portable oven you had rented. Luckily, the office managed to stay impossibly cool.

“Do you want help with that one, or should we work on separate pieces?” he asked.

“I’m alright. Besides, I’m a God at putting together furniture,” you said, staring at him with a straight face.

“Alright, point taken. Now, what to build?” 

Nightowl turned to look at all the boxes, eventually picking out the desk he had picked out for himself. He dragged it over to the area you were working in and set it down gently. When he sat down, you slid him the box cutter you had so he could get to work. It took you a moment to figure out what exactly he chose to work on.

“Starting off with the heavy hitter?”

“Why not?” Nightowl shrugged. “It’s gonna be the thing I’m glued to for the rest of time. May as well get used to it now.”

The two of you worked in comfortable silence for a while. Partially due to the intense concentration you bestowed upon your respective pieces. When you were finishing up with the small table, Nightowl broke the silence.

“I think only now the whole ‘we’re making our business super extra official’ thing is setting in on me.”

You lifted your head. “The loan we took out so we didn’t have to sell our organs for this didn’t do it for you?”

“Okay okay, that felt pretty real,” he laughed. “Seriously though, being in our actual office together and getting it all set up makes it feel like we really did it,” he smiled, now focusing his attention on you. You did the same.

“I get what you mean. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling it too. The realness is kinda anxiety-inducing, though.”

“In a good way, right?”

“Yeah, in a good way,” you smiled, going back to your table. 

The two of you had started this business a while back. Nightowl had gotten a lot of recognition quickly at the company he started with when he finished grad school. While the idea originally was that he’d be working with a team, soon enough, it became clients requesting him to work on their projects solo. With his name being as known as it was, working for a company seemed somewhat pointless to him. So, he asked you what you thought about taking the plunge. After mulling it over, you agreed. He would be the architect, and you, the accountant and secretary.

It started by working out of the apartment you shared. In-person meetings taking place in coffee shops and online ones in the kitchen with a bedsheet as a background. The living room partially turned into Nightowl’s office, while the kitchen table was yours. After a year of the somewhat disorganized setup, you decided to upgrade to a real office space. Thus, started the lengthy process that brought you here.

Screwing in the last bolt, you stood up. “One down, a million more to go.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

“Come on, with me here it won't be so bad,” you said as you picked up the table and put it as far away from everything as possible. Nightowl continued his gaze, though it filled with adoration.

“God, what can’t you do?” he praised, eyes following you as you walked back to him. Still sitting on the floor, he looked up at you as you leaned down, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m letting that go to my head.”

“By all means, let it.”

You went to the giant box collection and picked out the next piece. That’s how your day went. Building furniture, moving it either to the opposite side of the room or the vicinity of where you'd think it'd stay, then picking out a new box. Keeping yourselves entertained with a wide range of conversation topics. 

As the early evening rolled around, hunger struck. You sent out Nightowl to pick up the cheapest pizza he could find while you fought with a bookshelf. Just as you wrangled it into place, the door opened once more, this time by a Nightowl carrying a much smaller box and a two-liter tucked under his arm. He came over to your workspace, moving aside various tools to place down the box. You immediately dove in while he sat down, him joining in once at your level. The incredibly cheap food felt like heaven in your starved stomach.

“This reminds me of my college days,” you remarked.

“We are eating poor college kid food,” he responded, opening the bottle next to him.

“I mean the situation, stupid. It’s just like when I got my first apartment.”

“Go on,” he said, setting down the bottle after taking a sip. You reached over for it, drinking before continuing.

“It was me and like, four other people in a small shitty apartment. It was our first day there, and we had brought in the few belongings we had to call it home. We were all starving and ordered a pizza because someone had a coupon, but surprise, surprise, we didn’t have any furniture. We all ended up eating together on the living room floor like this and sharing a two-liter because we also didn’t have any cups.”

Nightowl laughed, nearly choking on his food. “How were you so unprepared?”

“I definitely didn't have my shit together then. Besides, we were all nineteen-year-old finance majors that thought it would be so much better to live in an apartment. I don’t think it would have been possible for any of us to know what we were doing.”

“Makes me feel better about staying in the dorms for all of undergrad,” he smiled, taking another bite of his slice. 

“You made the right call.”

The conversation continued, both of you reminiscing about your undergrad days and sharing stories you probably have told each other already. Neither of you minded hearing them over again, though. Truth be told, the time spent together made the whole venture worthwhile. Once finished, you threw the box and now empty bottle into the massive pile of cardboard in the corner of the room. 

Nightowl got himself up and grabbed the next box from the now considerably smaller collection of boxes near the door. Soon, you joined him and both of you continued the day's work. Box after box, piece after piece, you had chipped away at the collection you had created. Nightfall set in by the time you finished. 

Nightowl sighed as he stood up. “Why did we leave the impossible chair for last?”

“Fate must’ve had it out for us.”

“Seriously, if this stumped the furniture building God how was anyone supposed to put it together?” he grumbled. While you had originally been the one to work on it, you soon realized it would have to be a team effort. Nightowl took on the role of the builder as you read the instructions.

“It’s going to my head again,” you said as you got up from the desk you were sitting on to stand by his side.

“I’m more okay with that than you think.” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “Confidence in yourself is hot on you.”

“I think it’s called ego, actually.”

“Basically the same thing. Take the compliment, cutie,” he pouted.

“Alright, alright. I will.”

“Good,” he said, placing a kiss on your cheek. The two of you stood there for a moment, admiring the work you had done.

“We should probably put everything in place, shouldn’t we?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Up to you, cutie. You’re the one in charge here,” he responded with a slight yawn.

“I don’t think either of us will have the energy to come back tomorrow to do anything but drop stuff off after a day of decor hunting.”

“Now it is then!” he declared, sparking his energy once more.

While you had pre-planned the layout, you found yourself stuck between two ideas. Nightowl didn't have a preference between the two, so it was up to you to figure out which you liked more. Unfortunately, your indecisiveness led to an hour of going back and forth between the two, even combining them at some point, before you finally settled on what you wanted.

Nightowl walked backward toward the door, back hitting it before he slid all the way down. “We’re finally done,” he smiled, looking up at you. You made your way over and sat down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder. He took your hand into his own. “I can’t wait to immediately pass out as soon as I touch the bed.”

“You definitely deserve it. I was the one making you move everything around over and over again.”

“As long as you’re happy with the layout, I don’t mind one bit.”

“Still, I do feel a bit guilty. Like I was bossing you around.”

“My opinion on your confidence has not wavered.”

“I don’t think-”

“Take the compliment,” he said, cutting you off.

“You are one strange man,” you laughed.

“Maybe I am, but you love me for it,” he teased back.

“That I do,” you responded, squeezing his hand slightly. “Surprising after today since the putting together furniture and arranging it thing supposedly tears apart relationships.”

“If we can survive this happily and do it for a business we started all on our own, I think our relationship can survive anything,” he proclaimed.

“It better. Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

“Neither would I, cutie. We should make it official.”

“Like get married?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he yawned. A second passed before he realized exactly what he said and how he said it. He let go of your hand and turned a bit to fully face you. “I don’t mean right now. Unless you wanted to then I mean right now.”

You were stunned, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Before his panicked rambling, you thought it was just more conversation. Sure, you had talked about marriage before, but always casually. Never did it come out like this. You continued to stare at each other. Though only for a few moments, it felt excruciating long.

Nightowl slammed his face into his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and my brain fell out of my mouth. You don't have to take it as an actual proposal.”

“I want to.”

Nightowl lifted his head from his hands to face you once more. His face was red from embarrassment. You reached out to hold both of his hands. “Actually?”

“I haven’t exactly pictured my future without you.”

“There’s no way you actually want to marry me now.”

"Why wouldn’t I? We’ve been together for years and already started a whole business together. If anything, it’s a little weird we didn’t get married before that.”

“This isn’t real. We’re really gonna do this?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

Nightowl immediately dove to hug you, knocking you to the floor. “Holy shit, I love you so much. You actually want to get married to me. I’m so fucking lucky.” he gushed. 

“You’re crushing me,” you wheezed. Nightowl lifted his weight off of you to reveal the biggest grin on his face and eyes glossy from joy.

“Sorry! You’re just… everything I've ever wanted and now I get to have you forever. Kinda unbelievable,” he said as he laid himself beside you. “When do we start the planning?”

“Maybe after we pay back most of the loan we took out.”

“That’s gonna take forever,” he whined.

“Did you forget how many projects you have lined up? We’ll get it done in no time. Plus, I got us a fantastic interest rate.”

“What if we did a courthouse wedding?”

“No ceremony or reception?”

“We can do that later. There's no need for us to wait on a legal marriage, though.”

“You are very eager to do this as soon as possible.”

"That I am. I’ll make an appointment for next week if you want.”

“How long have you been thinking about this, exactly? You seem to have everything lined up in your head.”

He paused. “Longer than I’m willing to admit.”

“I bet you have a secret wedding scrapbook,” you joked.

Nightowl’s eyes went wide. “What don’t you know?”

“You’re showing me it when we get home,” you sang.

“How did I accidentally pull this off so well?”

“The things you do accidentally tend to go well. It’s like a blessing to have luck on your side like that.”

“I think luck has been on my side for more than saving my ass.”

“Like how this probably wouldn’t have happened if we didn’t get that impossible chair?” you said as you propped yourself up, now sitting.

“Exactly! Definitely wouldn’t have been tired enough to propose if that thing didn’t exist,” he chuckled.

“We should probably get home before you’re too tired to function.”

“Agreed.”

You two got yourselves off the floor, admiring each other for a moment before Nightowl leaned down to kiss you. Once parted, you gave one last look at the fruits of your labor before going to grab your phones and keys. Nightowl flicked off the lights before leaving and you followed suit. For tonight, at least, the gigantic pile of cardboard would have to live in the office. You fumbled with your keys for a second before locking up. Turning around towards your now fiance, you reached out for his hand, which he obliged. With one last short stare of adoration, you led the way out of the building that housed your little office. 

[eddysocs]

The Object Of Desire — Chapter Seven (Hidden Thoughts And Secret Places)

Summary: After a short night, Aerla must go about her day, and relief comes in the form of her private forest clearing. There to write out some of her thoughts, her peace is interrupted.

Word Count: 1,117

Warnings: Some minor angst/drama, progression of feelings within a student/teacher relationship

Later that night, Aerla lay sleepless, staring up towards the ceiling. Again, the day's events played over and over in her head. Beautiful, blissful images swam at the forefront of her mind, yet still the thoughts somehow plagued her, taking her slumbering hours away from her. Di, directly across the room from her, was awake as well. Aerla sighed, half with contentment and half with frustration at her inability to fall asleep.

"Hey," Di whisper yelled. Aerla sat up. Her eyes were accustomed enough to the darkness that she could tell Di was also sitting up and looking —rather, glaring— at her. Aerla pointed at herself to clarify that Di had been speaking to her. Had she done something to wake her? She hadn’t thought so. "Yes, you. You came back from the lake awfully late. What were you doing out there?"

Aerla didn’t like the accusation in Di's tone. What did it matter to her what she did or didn’t do? Yet she needed to answer her. Although she certainly had no obligation to tell Di the truth. At least not the whole of it. "I stayed to speak to Miss G. I wanted to tell her that I don’t think I’ll be joining your diving team. I don’t think I'm suited to it."

"Oh," Di replied flatly. Aerla didn’t know what she'd been expecting to hear, but she assumed that hadn’t been it. "Okay then. Shame. You were kind of good," Di replied dismissively and with a passive aggressive shrug. Aerla fought not to argue with her. She was damned good, and Di knew that as well as Aerla herself did. Miss G had praised her on her dive, possibly more so than any of the other girls. Perhaps Di was merely jealous that she was better than her. Aerla longed to gloat, lord it over her like some primary school bully, but she didn’t need the conflict. Di seemed determined not to like her, and she didn’t need to give her any more reason to hate her.

After Di laid back down, and Aerla was able to be off her guard once more, she actually settled into a light sleep. Morning seemed to come too quickly however, and Monday's classes were bright and early as usual. For her first few courses of the day, she was struggling to keep awake, the monotony coupled with her shortened night of rest was a draining combination.

Lunchtime had perked her up a bit, having forgone breakfast for roughly half an hour more of rest. The afternoon then proceeded to go much smoother for her. She was more attentive, especially after passing Miss G in the hall between class periods. And then classes concluded for the day and she was free. While the other girls gathered in dorms and a short distance outside the building, Aerla made her way to the forest.

The clearing she'd found on her first foray out into the woods awaited her and the journal she’d brought along with her. Birdsong again filled the secluded area, and Aerla sat on the large, fallen log to put some thoughts down on the pages in her journal.

Camille. French in origin. There is something exotic about her that keeps her always in my thoughts. It is not unlike what I felt for the girl from home, whose name need not be mentioned here, yet it is not quite the same either. With the girl, curiosity. With Camille…perhaps desire?

The snap of a twig got her attention and froze her pen to the page. It could have merely been an animal traipsing through, but she had to be sure. She slowly lifted her head to observe her surroundings. In the distance, she caught a glimpse of a silvery, silken skirt as someone darted away beyond the trees. Perhaps it was time to leave. She wanted to preserve this spot as her own, and if someone was already poking around, she best wait until later for another visit.

Camille had only meant to keep an eye on the girls after classes had let out for the day. She’d been making her rounds, seeing that the girls had mostly grouped up for a bit of fun during the pleasant weather before the rain came overnight. And that’s when she’d spotted Aerla heading for the forest. Normally, the girls weren’t permitted past the tree line, but she seemed to be heading somewhere with a purpose and Camille wanted to know where.

She lingered behind at quite a distance, only just able to keep Aerla in her sights. When she saw her enter the woods, she pressed forward after her, carefully treading into the brush. From behind a thick and gnarled old tree, Camille stood and watched as Aerla entered a forest clearing, sitting herself on a fallen log. It appeared that she was writing something. She wouldn’t be able to see the words on the page even if she were to draw closer, yet she took a step forward anyway. A mistake.

The crack of the stick beneath her feet had clearly startled the young woman, whose writing ceased immediately. Camille knew she’d have to flee. She could only hope she was fast enough to avoid catching Aerla's eye as she went. Her mad dash from the woods left her wanting for breath by the time she reached the forest's edge. It was already starting to get dark at this time of year, and a chill was setting in, so Camille jogged off to go inside and grab a coat. She might have just stayed in, but she wanted to make sure Aerla made it back.

Camille stood outside the school's entrance and waited, puffing on a cigarette to look as if she were preoccupied with anything other than worry for her favorite pupil. When Aerla finally came trotting up the hill, Camille exhaled a long plume of smoke, along with an abundance of relief. Everyone else had gone inside by the time she reached the door, so that left them alone. "Camille, what are you still doing out here?"

Camille almost lost her cool when Aerla addressed her by her first name, but another drag from her cigarette helped her to regain her composure. "Just making sure everyone comes inside," she replied. "You’re the last."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she apologized, though a hint of a smile told her she wasn’t entirely sorry for it.

"Not at all. After you." Camille half bowed as she gestured to the door with a flourish. Aerla smiled at the act she was putting on until she caught sight of a peek of silver coming from under Camille's long, black coat.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

Chapter Six <- 🩵 -> Chapter Eight

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @atjsgf, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @kissykissymouth

Aerla Grae: @athenodora-sulpicia-writer, @ilovehotactresses

[storybook-tiles]

Writing Patterns

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (7 + 3 wips) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

thank youu for the tag @loverslakes <3

when you kill the lights (and kiss my eyes)

Sarah tilts her head toward the sky, letting the cool morning breeze waft past her. The distant scent of freshly baked bread drifts by, making her glad that she ate before she left.

it’ll all work out

Nat rubs a thumb over the cuff of her leather jacket, staring into space as she waits. The pub chosen for tonight is dingy and packed to the brim. All those with nowhere else to go on New Year's gathered at shitty wooden tables that wobbles when any weight is placed on them.

the future’s unwritten (the past is a corridor)

The new house is too cold.

It’s a stupid thing to be stuck on given everything, but Mike can’t help it. It’s barely Fall, he’s already thrown on a hoodie, and it’s still not enough. It’s like you can’t go anywhere in the house without feeling like you’re outside.

hold me like a knife

Nat doesn’t know if she can bring herself to hate Misty.

The realization comes as quietly as the first few snowflakes in Winter. As unsurprising as the seasons changing—Winter to Spring to Summer to Fall. It’s the building feeling of dread in her stomach, the deck of cards being passed around the cabin. The hazy acid trip of a fire pit and a girl on the other side.

you start to kiss (and the record skips)

It starts the way it always does.

For a brief moment, there is only darkness. All Will can hear is the heavy breaths of his friends surrounding him–the murmur of the crowd. Will’s sweat-slick hands grip his bass guitar and he can’t help himself from glancing to his left where he knows Mike stands.

always in this twilight

Mike is beginning to realize there is no end to the shield that stretches around the clearing and he is starting to get desperate. Distantly he can hear the thudding steps of the massive Fang Dragon that has made himself the keeper of the surrounding area. Mike has no idea how much time he has left. All the knights the king had sent had reported being attacked and mauled before they even had the chance to think. Mike isn’t sure if it’s a curse or a blessing that he’s lasted this long without detection.

the only thing i’ve ever had any faith in

Mike hates this. He hates everything that has led up to this moment. Hates Creel for kickstarting the fucking apocalypse. Hates El for dumping him and Will for avoiding him like they hadn’t spent multiple days on end in a weed-filled pizza van together. He hates Eddie for dying without warning and he hates Dustin for snapping at him over it. He really hates the way his head hasn’t stopped pounding since they crossed state lines. But most of all he hates Nancy for the iron-tight grip she currently has on his arm as she drags him out of the house.

wip #1: the future’s unwritten (the past is a corridor) -> ch. 2

Mike’s breath strangles in his throat. His eyes dart around the room, searching wildly for any sign of Will. All is as it should be. Not even the curtains are moving. Mike hopes desperately that Will has left–flown through the wall and booked it down the hall.

wip #2: suburban legends

The clock ticks steadily as Shauna considers giving up on her homework altogether. Stupid Ms. Miller and her stupid fucking math problems and her inability to ever make sense when she teaches. Shauna’s head is swimming with numbers that don’t fit together and honestly, at this point, she doesn’t think that there’s much else she can do.

wip #3: there is love that doesn’t have a place to rest

Mike doesn’t know how long he’s been walking for. An hour? Five? All he knows is the crunch of his boots over the caked-in snow and the sting of his cheeks in the cool air.

no pressure tags: @booksandpaperss @suzieburself @snowangeldotmp3 @claryfrayed

[ramshacklefey]

Well, yes... But that's not why so many academics can't write worth shit.

The goal of academic writing isn't to evoke an emotion in our readers. A topic may be deeply emotional, and it may indeed provoke an emotional response to talk about it, but that emotional response is not the goal of the argument.

The goal of academic writing is simple. You have a belief about the world, and you are explaining to other people the reasoning that supports your belief. (I'm using "the world" in the most general sense here. It could be anything from a sweeping political statement to a nitpicky idea about a piece of literature.)

Your emotions about something may well be part of the reason for your belief, but that's different from angling at a specific emotional response from your readers. You may also have strong emotions surrounding your belief, or about the facts or concepts that support your belief, but those emotions themselves aren't part of the reasoning for your belief.

Also, despite what some people claim, the problem isn't that we're only writing for people within our own field. A good writer can make specialized, technical writing accessible to many different audiences. There is, to be fair, a limit to how far you can go with it however. For example, I'm a damn good writer in my field, and I'm pretty good at explaining my work to people outside my field. But there are going to be some areas of nuance and detail that I won't be able to explain to you without giving a crash course in the last 40 years of research in the work I'm doing.

(Think of it like sitting down to watch an episode of a long-running serial with someone. They can give you a run down of the important plot points, but you'll still be missing some details. And it's not bad writing on the show's part if they assume that people watching it have a decent idea of what's going on already.)

No, academics are bad writers because no one teaches us how to be good writers. The bad writing I'm talking about here is stuff like: inability to get to the damn point, unnecessarily complex sentence structure, poor organization that makes it hard to follow the argument, etc. it's just plain old bad writing.

Which is not a problem unique to us, just to be clear. Almost no one is taught how to be a good writer. It's just very obvious that someone is a bad writer when their whole job is writing.

(An amusing sidenote here is that my skill at writing fiction and my skill at writing academic papers directly reinforce each other, but all of my colleagues look at me like I have two heads when I tell them to study fiction writing if they want to be better writers)

[bigcircle-smallworld]

What's The Big AI Idea?

"Rachel, Jack, and Ashley Too," Black Mirror; In an age of rapid technological advancements, media often expresses the fear of impersonal robot rule. (Netflix)

One year ago, the world was introduced to ChatGPT– the accessibility to such an advanced piece of artificial intelligence, (A.I.) which is known for essentially being able to answer questions and write like a quasi human, has faced resistance and embrace– either way, few can argue that it has been an astonishing advancement in “futurist” technology that is actually accessible to mankind. Machine learning, seen in programs like OpenAI's ChatGPT, Google's Bard, and Microsoft's Sydney, essentially analyzes vast data sets and generates seemingly human-like language and thought…  However, there is growing worry that the dominant role of machine learning in A.I. may compromise human work in science and ethics – not to mention economic replacement theories – that show a flawed, or at the very least unquestioned, understanding of language and knowledge into our technology, that can often lead to unnecessary fear. 

Through my interests in politics and sociology, I have always been interested in our relationships with technology, especially in its intersections with art and economic/social issues, and with societal fears surrounding the idea of of dystopia. For this AI blog post, I recalled a Noam Chomsky opinion piece for the New York Times that I read many months ago and wanted to revisit having observed a year of everyday AI incorporation.

As he argues, AI’s prowess in specific domains like computer programming is somewhat singular. These machine learning programs fundamentally differ from human reasoning and language use. The human mind operates from raw observation and through labyrinthian modes of processing with efficiency and elegance. In language, this means that children can create complex systems of logic and grammar even in the early stages of language acquisition. Conversely, machine learning can only (as of now) consume information to summarize and restate it, offering little to no analysis or outside connection. 

The distinction lies in the fact that while machine learning excels at description and prediction, it lacks the crucial capacity for causal explanation, much less creativity or any type of analysis that has not already been posed. Though this next part may sound confusing, Chomsky argues that human thought involves not just recognizing what is the case but also exploring what is not the case and what could or could not be the case—an essential component of true intelligence. The article contends that machine learning systems, designed for unlimited learning and memorization, are incapable of discerning the possible from the impossible, leading to superficial and dubious predictions.

In a global context, it is astonishing to reflect on how powerful AI engines can be, and yet being reminded just how far the human brain has advanced beyond them, in any area but restating topics in a short amount of time. As I reflect on my exchange year last year, this illuminates, for one, the absolute marvel of the human brain that can process new languages with irreplicable nuance and style, and second, that raw and constant production for the sake of production does not mean anything, and is not what makes the ideological work of the human species unique– it is the weave of inter-workings in our brains

Furthermore, the article highlights the importance of ethical considerations in A.I. development. The example of Microsoft's Tay chatbot, which exhibited offensive behavior due to exposure to inappropriate training data, underscores the challenges in balancing creativity with moral constraints. The inability of A.I. systems to reason from moral principles results in crude restrictions, sacrificing creativity for meaningless amorality. The article concludes by questioning the popularity of these systems, emphasizing their inherent flaws in moral thinking, pseudo-scientific predictions, and linguistic incompetence, however it also cites the work of Jorge Luis Borges to un-catastrophize the nature of such unprecedented times, foreseeing the potential for tragedy and comedy amid the imminence of revelation.

[11lights]

August 15th, 2023

0426L

Temp 88°

Saddlebunch Keys, FL

I am absolutely miserable right now. I'm in an horrible condition with a massive inability to sleep. Tonight I was the pilot crashing only to be readed by the real world with a massively stiff neck and trap. I'm tumbling around my bed this morning trying to find a position that is both comfortable yet stretches my neck out so that I'll be able to fly later. Will hopefully fly later. This is a pretty shitty start to writing things down, I was actually supposed to start yesterday and last night, but I didn't know what to write about. The idea of writing an entire list of the things that I need to do is to intimidating to even start, let alone writing down whatever is going on inside of my head. I'm so thankful for voice to text because if it didn't exist then I would have stopped writing two sentences in and just stared at the book and have been satisfied with at least marking the book. I have an hour until my alarm goes off. I want to make the most out of today and feel better. I hope that'll happen. And I have the blueprint of what I need to do. I just wish I would stop being overwhelmed and overthinking everything and actually push forward and do something. I'd like to try to describe my surrounding currently. Maybe that could be something I also write down. I'm currently on the left quarter of my queen size bed and a dark room. My closet glows red around its border from an LED light strip that I leave on to remind me of the ship. The fan and air conditioner work together to try to keep me at a sleeping temperature but the air all around is slightly too hot. The room looks as if a tornado had visited twice. There's laundry covering the remaining three quarters of the bed. The bed lacks a sheet to prevent my body from lying directly on the mattress. The pillows are naked without any cases to cover them and the case is lay right next to the pillows on the bed. There are remnants of my cousin's bed frame throughout the room waiting to be disposed of in a dumpster temporarily being stored here because this is the most eyesore room so it's only acceptable. Dirty laundry dots the floor from my laundry basket to the entrance of my bathroom. My desk hardly resembles in an area with the gaming computer available for any sort of productivity, instead. It's an avalanche of clothes and hoarded items ready to descend onto me anytime now. I don't know why I live like this and I hate it. I'm going to try to sleep.

[blessednoel]

Breaking the Chains of Mental Slavery: Liberating the Mind...

By Noel Ennis

Introduction: In today's fast-paced and interconnected world, it is not only physical chains that can bind us but also the invisible shackles of mental slavery. Mental slavery refers to the state of being trapped in limiting beliefs, societal expectations, and negative thought patterns that hinders personal growth and fulfillment. In this blog, I will delve into the concept of mental slavery, its detrimental effects, and strategies to break free and reclaim our mental autonomy.

Understanding Mental Slavery: Mental slavery manifests in various forms, such as conformity to societal norms, fear of failure, self-doubt, and the inability to challenge ingrained beliefs. It limits our potential, stifles creativity, and prevents us from embracing new possibilities. Mental slavery creates a cycle of negativity and restricts our ability to live authentically.

Recognizing the Chains: The first step in breaking free from mental slavery is recognizing its existence. Reflect on your thoughts, behaviors, and patterns that feel constricting or restrictive. Question the beliefs and expectations that have been imposed upon you by society, family, or peers. Take note of any self-limiting beliefs that may be holding you back from pursuing your dreams or expressing your true self.

Challenging Limiting Beliefs: To break the chains of mental slavery, challenge and reframe you’re limiting beliefs. Identify the underlying reasons behind these beliefs and critically assess their validity. Surround yourself with positive influences, read empowering literature, and engage in personal development activities to expand your perspective and challenge the status quo. Embrace the power of self-affirmation and replace negative thoughts with positive affirmations that reinforce your worth and potential.

Cultivating Self-Awareness and Mindfulness: Developing self-awareness and practicing mindfulness can help you break free from mental slavery. Pay attention to your thoughts, emotions, and reactions without judgment. Understand that you have the power to choose your responses and emotions. Practice meditation, deep breathing exercises, or journaling to cultivate mindfulness and gain clarity about your desires, values, and aspirations.

Embracing Personal Growth and Learning: Commit to lifelong learning and personal growth as a means of breaking the chains of mental slavery. Expand your knowledge, acquire new skills, and challenge yourself to step outside your comfort zone. Embrace failure as an opportunity for growth and see setbacks as stepping stones toward success. Surround yourself with supportive and like-minded individuals who encourage your personal development journey.

Conclusion: Breaking free from the grips of mental slavery is a liberating and transformative process. By recognizing the existence of mental chains, challenging limiting beliefs, cultivating self-awareness, and embracing personal growth, we can reclaim our mental autonomy and live a life of authenticity, fulfillment, and purpose. Let us break free from the invisible chains and embark on a journey of self-discovery and empowerment.

When embarking on a journey of self-discovery and breaking free from mental slavery, it's essential to have access to reliable and diverse sources of information. Fortunately, we live in an age where knowledge is easily accessible. Here are some research areas and resources you can explore:

Research Resources Used for my Article:

Internet Search Engines: Search engines like Google, Bing, or Yahoo-search provide a wealth of information on a wide range of topics. Use specific keywords or phrases to find relevant articles, blogs, research papers, and expert opinions.

About the Author: Noel Ennis is a passionate advocate for personal growth and self-empowerment, he inspires individuals to break free from mental limitations and embrace their true potential. Through his writings. Noel strives to empower others to live authentically and consciously, free from the constraints of mental slavery. God bless.

[sunsbled-archive]

@solaoccasum​​    /    unprompted    /    lumine & basile

Basile's shirt swallows Lumine's frame but she can't help but feel warm and safe in it regardless. It's why she's been lounging around in it all day. She doesn't ever wanna take it off.

it’s not the weary sigh that announces his presence, he assumes, but rather the telltale squeak of the door   - he really ought to oil the hinges -    and the  clink of his sword unceremoniously being dropped at the side,       hitting the  shitty little vase he made a year ago  when  antoine  convinced  him  pottery  would be a fun hobby.         it wasn’t, but he keeps it anyways because it’s a  nice reminder of easier days. plus it’s nice to look at things and reminisce of those times when days like today happened. stressful, tiring and most of all draining. he’s frustrated, really. somehow it still surprised him that so many people had the audacity  to  not  only badmouth his friend but to also shove their workload his way simply because he offered a helping hand - and they decided to take his whole arm, figuratively at least. he’s not all that surprised to find the light in the room on, to see the lamp at the nightstand lit. it’s not as late but he assumes that lumine has decided to have a day of leisure. good.  she deserves a break more than anyone - plus he’d have complained about her not taking a break if she hadn’t, anyway - and he’s glad that she’s had a good day. at least he hopes. his eyes are shut close, frown burning his face while his hand tries to smooth a strand of his hair that sticks out like a sore  thumb. trying to look after some kids on the way back ended with him having to jump into a river to get one of them out after they’d been careless and he’s still dropping a few stray bits of water onto the floor beneath him. he offers a ‘ hey ’ and there’s a particular weight to his tone, like he’s holding back a sigh.

except the exhaustion on his face disappears the moment he opens his visible eye, greeted by the sight of his soulmate lounging about in his shirt. it doesn’t help that the lamps light casts and surrounds her like it wants to make sure he doesn’t forget just how beautiful she is. as if he’d ever do that. his mouth goes dry and he lets out a surprised noise, strangled as if he’s trying not to seem to joyful at the sight. it’s cute, really. she looks almost small in his shirt and it has  his chest swell  with  pride  knowing  that  he  isn’t  as tiny as the world makes  him feel sometimes. or as he felt whenever standing next to someone as huge as antoine.           he’s smiling - that dopey one he only gets when he’s entirely  content -   and  takes  a  few  steps  towards  the  little wardrobe near the bed,  easing himself  out  of his jacket and clothes until he’s left in his pants and the sleeveless shirt he wears under all those layers. and then he takes another two steps and lets himself fall backwards onto the bed, craning his head to look at lumine before he croons out a soft ❛ i like your new clothes. ❜  while stretching. the movement takes some strain off his spine,      which is probably for the best,  before he shifts himself to lay on his stomach, propping his head up with a hand so he can properly look  at  the  traveler with all that unfiltered love and affection  he has stored up in his heart,  doing sommersaults in his chest as if hearts were supposed to do that.              ❛ did you finally get your well deserved break? ❜ he queries with a hum,   his other hand coming up to seek out hers,   seeking the comforting warmth.  he fights the urge to shake his head to get rid off the remains of water on his head - he isn’t a dog, after all, even with the way he lays there and looks at her as if he was a puppy seeking attention -  and instead shuffles himself up the bed a little until he can rest his head against her. his face is resting down  on the mattress, fatigue taking over when he fights to stay awake.  rest can wait,  he’d much rather talk to his beloved for now.             his voice is muffled, though.

❛ ‘missed you the whole day. i also missed my shirt, good to know it’s here. ❜

[itsohh]

Bastard

A/N: G/N reader, I love fuze a bunch but I do find him a little hard to write with him being such a quiet character. Missed day 11, decided I wasn’t that big on the concept. I still have one non kinktober request that I have yet to done but it’s uh still gonna happen.

Day 12: Sensory deprivation

Word count:  631  

Warnings: NSFT, Smut, bondage, blindfolds

AO3 Kinktober Masterlist

His name was a whisper from your lips, a slight tug from your arm tested the bindings. There was a slight give for comfort and the ability to undo them if need be in the case of emergency. Yet, they were firm. Unbreaking. The darkness that surrounded you made the smallest of sounds so much louder. His breaths were steady and even, something that you focused on while your blood rushed in your ear.

Completely bare for him you couldn't help but flinch when his hand ran lightly up your left, a gentle caress that caused your head to flinch towards him. The sudden dip in the bed had you holding your breath and waiting for his next move. Yet he was still, his hand had stopped at the top of your thigh. “Shuhrat?” Your voice turned into a gasp when you felt his lips brush against your stomach. His knee made contact between your legs as his light stubble moved up on your skin.

“It’s just me.” His voice was quiet and his words gave comfort to the vulnerable situation. He pressed a single kiss in the middle of his chest before his face retreated. He suddenly grabbed the side of your thighs and pulled them apart with a tug which had you squeak out. “Don’t hide from me.” You practically jumped in the restraints when his tongue pressed flat against your sex before it turned into a kiss. A grunt let your lips and you tugged on the restraint, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the man. “Always in a hurry.”

“Funny words coming from you, aren’t you always the one to try to go fast? Get the job done?” The words were meant to come out as a tease but ended up turning into a moan as he gript your thighs a little harder.

“Not here, I like to take it slow.” A kiss pressed down. “Explore you fully.” Another kiss. “Enjoy myself.” Kiss. “Something that’s rather easy to do when you're at my mercy.” A whine left your lips and you could hear a light chuckle. “Do you not enjoy it?” He paused. “Do you not like it when I touch you like this?” His thumb replaced where his tongue had been moments earlier, giving it a light rub in the most sensitive area.

“I do Shuhrat, I just. Agh you're so frustrating.” His smile could be felt as he pressed his lips against the inside of your thighs. With the inability to see, it was all you could focus on, all your mind could register.

“If I’m too frustrating I can stop if you wish.” The bastard was playing with you and there was nothing you could do but fall into his trap.

“No please- Shuhrat don’t be mean.” He went silent and stopped all contact with you. Without vision you could only feel him move around on the bed, it moving to compensate for the weight change. Silence consumed the air when he stopped moving and right when you were about to call out for him, he pushed inside. Leaning forward his lips pressed against yours and you greedily lift your body up, desperate for increased contact.

Yet he didn’t move his cock and you whined when his lips disconnected your yours. “Perhaps if you’re good for me I’ll move a little.” You could hear the false innocent smirk on his lips as he stayed relatively still. His hand went to your sides once again and his fingers brush against the skin. It was at that moment you realised he had no current intention of fucking you into the mattress as you had hoped, no he was going to take his time and there was nothing you could do about it.

[metarix-studios]

Homes Lost

The Dragon Knights aggression continue to increase as innocent families are turned into victims due to their ruthless tactics. Home invasions have become a common occurrence in unclaimed territories where Black Falcon influence is low in numbers.

Black Falcon soldiers are nowhere to be found in the unclaimed areas, as they have their hands full fighting claimed territories. In return many Lumerian Knights have been sent to the area to help evacuate innocent villagers, but they are greatly outnumbered themselves.

As great fighters as they are, they Knights prioritize the safe evacuation of families rather than attempting to push back the invaders. It helps save lives but in return it only increasing the presence of more Dragon Knights in the surrounding area.

The Dragon Knight army grows stronger every day and the war between Kingdoms continue to take the lives of innocents all around.

The Lumerian Knights realize that the war they chose to intervene, is far from over. And more lives are going to pay price for their inability to end the conflict.

BTS Notes 📷:

Continuing on with the lore I am building with the Dragon Knights, Black Falcons, and Lumerian Knights. When following the tales of Nights End the great “War” between the Black Falcons and Dragon Knights is mentioned but not shown since it’s hard to sow in with their adventures. So, I thought I’d make a dedicated post depicting some of the events occurring in the war. The whole war is important to Rix’s backstory and future development so I want to keep introducing it in the background.

The two main factions are easy to distinguish, but for those who are a bit lost on what the Lumerian Knight faction is, think of them like Jedi in Star Wars. They are peace keepers for the entire realm, and are comprised of warriors from every part of the land. They don’t align themselves with any Kingdom, but more often then not they clash with Dragon Knights the most because of their antagonist actions against all people of the realm.

As I am writing all of this down, it might be time to make a dedicated background post, to catch up and summarize all that’s been going on in my over arching Age of Wonders storyline, since people may have jumped on board since my earlier posts. Something to think about 🤔

[genshin-utopia]

xiao | memories

note | thank you for the 1000+ followers. I don't deserve it with the lack of updates and motivation. Half a year and I finally decided to write again. This is similar to the "Moments with you" headcanons I do. I hope you like this new series I will be starting with each/most/some characters. Also big thank you to @arthurhastingpoems for betaing! This was suppose to end with smut but lol what happened.

Tags: Established relationship, extremely corny/cheesy lol, hurt/comfort, a tiny bit of violence, fluff, bittersweet if you squint

You never expected to fall deep in love with the man beside you, who’s seldom rough and cold. But also, so soft towards you, as if you were something precious to him. A collection of stories shared between the two of you.

i.

It was rather unexpected when you first discovered you had a peculiar interest in Xiao’s arms or more specifically, his strength. You love how easy it was for Xiao to pick you up, as if you weighed nothing – that raw power that’s contained within. The first time you consciously discovered this fact was when you were playfully wrestling him due to playful banter.

You were both on the sofa, a soft comforter that left you unintentionally drowsy as you sink deeper into a comfortable state. On the other hand, Xiao was seated upright on the other end with a book in his hands. These were rare peaceful days that you both couldn’t afford frequently as duties kept you two occupied and most importantly, separated. As sleep started to overtake your senses, you started poking him lightly with your feet to draw his attention.

The slight twitch in response did not go unnoticed, however his gaze continued to be fixated on the literature in front of him. You, of course, did not mind as much but continued your ministrations to escape your drowsy state.

As time went by, you rose from your laying position and snuggled closer to him, laying your head softly onto his shoulders. You peered over curiously at the pages in front of you. Almost immediately, the words, “Rex Lapis,” neatly printed on the paper caught your eyes. Slightly irked at the fact that Xiao was paying more attention to Zhongli even in this situation, you started slowly tracing his arms with your fingers.

“Stop,” he commanded softly, not sparing a glance at your direction.

You ignored his words, your hands trailing further down to his chest before swiping the book from his hands quickly.

Chuckling to yourself in triumph, you edge yourself towards the other end of the couch, away from him.  However, you can’t escape from Xiao. Within seconds, your back is on the sofa with him hovering above you.

Not wanting to admit defeat, you attempted to stretch your arm, with the book in your hands, up to where Xiao couldn’t reach. That attempt was proven to be futile as his body presses you down with his larger one, ceasing all movement. You continued to squirm away from his grip until suddenly Xiao traps both your wrists above your head with one hand, the book slipping away in the process.

Xiao’s free arm cages your head, not allowing you to look away. He slowly lowers himself to your ear, whispering, “Where are you going?”

Hues of pink flushed your cheeks at his husky voice that was so close to you. Suddenly realizing the precarious position you were in, you shifted your eyes away from his gaze and onto his arms. Despite the initial embarrassment, you loved how he cages you with his arms. Ironically, you felt protected and safe.

Not liking that your gaze was averting from his, he gently lifts your chin with his free fingers, “Look at me.”

You quickly followed his command only to meet his darkening gaze. Hypnotized by his eyes, you squirmed once more but this time to get closer to the source of heat above you. “X-xiao, kiss me.”

He obliged quickly, closing the gap between you and swallowing your whimper. His tongue delves between your lips, unhurried and tender. Xiao has one hand up your shirt, stroking the soft skin of your chest as he steals your oxygen. The slow and soft touches were torturous, you started bucking your hips up impatiently. However, before you can get the friction you so desire, he anchors himself up slightly. His arms are still caging your body, but this time he leaves a small space between the both of you. A small smirk etches onto his face as he looks at your needy expression, wanting more of his touch.

You love his strength and his arms caging you.

But he loves your docile self as a result.

ii.

Xiao is very much like the element he holds.

Like the storm, the wind can be very turbulent.

Yet it can also be soft, gently caressing your cheeks as you walk.

He also has a quirk of disappearing and appearing before your eyes randomly.

Much like right now.

You are currently taking a break on the hilltop after a long commission you just finished. Your back rests on the trunk of the tree perched on top of the hill. Its leaves serve as an umbrella, shielding you from the sun's harsh rays. You close your eyes as the gentle breeze wafts through the air, enjoying a peaceful and tranquil time to yourself.

It has been several days since you’ve last seen Xiao as the both of you are quite busy, especially the latter.

At times like these where you are unoccupied with only your own thoughts accompanying you, you find yourself missing Xiao the most.

You close your eyes, his silhouette forming inside your mind as you start to reminiscence the times you’ve shared with each other.

“Xiao...” You whispered unconsciously.

For the next few seconds, only the leaves soft rustling could be heard.

Just then you sensed a presence in front of you. Your instincts kicked in and you hurriedly open your eyes and unsheathed your weapon.

However, it wasn’t a lone hilichurl in front of you like you expected, but the person you longed for the most.

You quickly sheathed back your sword and stood on your feet, a bright smile adorning your face at the sight of Xiao appearing before you. You ran to his awaiting arms, wrapping your arms around him, and leaning your head on his broad chest. He reciprocated the hug, enclosing your body with his arms. It felt like time halted for the both of you, like nothing existed except you two.

You were snapped out of your trance when you felt a slight weight behind your ears. Curiously, you withdrew from his loving arms and directed your attention to his hands.

“Crystalflies for you,” he stated as his right hand were filled with numerous crystalflies, “I caught more than I intended. I hope you don’t mind.”

Happiness surged through your body; your previous loneliness long forgotten as you took the batch of crystalflies from his hands gratefully.

A small smile carved its way to his face, his gaze softening at your ecstatic self. He combed your hair softly with his right hand, “As I thought you look very nice.”

He leaves a quick kiss to your forehead before disintegrating with the wind.

“If you wish to seek me, call out my name.”

iii.

The sharp arrow plunges into your stomach, halting your movements and loosening your grip on your sword. You felt as if your insides were ripped to shreds by a mere arrow due to your carelessness. You were fulfilling a commission which entails you emptying a hilichurl camp. What was thought to be a simple task became a nightmare as you let your guard down when reinforcements came unexpectedly. You scoffed to yourself at your idiocy for ever letting your guard down in a fight.

A sense of dread overcame your senses, your vision blurring momentarily, and you lose footing for a split second.

Flashes of images depicting your moments with Xiao crossed your mind.

You wonder how he was doing at the moment. Probably also fighting demons like he always did.

You wished to see him right now.

With that thought in mind, you gripped your sword firmly with more determination.

A blue magic circle formulates beneath your feet as you send ice shards at the hilichurl sharpshooters hidden within the trees. You ignore the sharp pain of your stomach at your sudden movement, and instead you diverted your attention at the several Mitachurls with axes surrounding you.

“Come at me you assholes.”

The area immediately became colder as shards of ice flew everywhere. Your stamina is decreasing at an alarming rate as you quickly cleared the area with your sword and magic.

You shoved your sword into the last mitachurl when you heard a distant horn in the distance, signifying to you that there were more to come.

You could no longer ignore the pain of your new wounds all over your body and kneeled slightly while clutching at your stomach.

Were you going to die?

No, you couldn’t.

Just then when all hope was lost, the clear blue sky darkens into a gray hue as the wind around you started to pick up ominously.

Could it be?

“Block it."

Reflexively, at the sound of a very familiar voice, you immediately surround yourself with thick shards of ice and braced yourself.

A turbulent force plunged down from the sky, the surrounding area immediately getting hit by explosive wind, rendering all enemies powerless and dead within seconds. The shards of ice protecting you cracked, before crumbling away. You peered up and met the eyes of Xiao, his normally impassive face deforming into one of pure anger.

“Why?” He gritted out, “Why didn’t you call for me?”

“Because I’m strong,” you managed to mutter out. As if to prove your point, you staggered to get on your feet to demonstrate you didn’t need his help despite the pain consuming your senses.

“No, you humans are weak,” he stated harshly, voice icy cold.

You shook your head, ready to retort. However, whether it was the relief of seeing Xiao again or the fact that you survived the whole ordeal, you couldn’t fight the pain of your wounds. You braced yourself for a harsh drop, but instead something soft embraced you.

You couldn’t figure out what it was before you faded into a deep slumber.

iv.

Drifting in and out of consciousness resulted in your inability to depict what was real and what was fake.

Your wounds from that day were proximately fatal and you spent the majority of the day and nights recuperating.

You would dream of getting impaled by several arrows.

Sometimes you would dream of horrific images of ways you could’ve died that day, like you are right now.

However, before the nightmare could get any further, a green butterfly would always spreads its wings, painting the canvas with new colors instead of the dreadful gray and red images.

The nightmare would disintegrate slowly into shards that would evanesce into a better scenario.

You would open your eyes only to be greeted with golden orbs who covered your vision, “Hurry and go back to sleep.”

Those nights you would dream of a green butterfly accompanying you and circumventing you with warmth.

V.

You have come to a startling conclusion that Xiao was ignoring you for weeks.

Xiao often wanders and if he wasn’t at home or wouldn’t appear out of thin air at your call, you couldn’t pinpoint where he is.

Rummaging through your head, you couldn’t come up with a decisive moment where it led to this.

Clutching onto your soft blanket, you pulled it closer to you for warmth. The spot on the bed adjacent to you felt even more emptier than before.

For weeks you endeavored to dissuade yourself from coming up with the revelation that he doesn’t want to see you. You continued your everyday obligations, diverting yourself with dispiriting thoughts that plagued your mind. Unfortunately, you were at your breaking point, the rain pitter-pattered against your windows made the atmosphere even more dejecting.

Tears formulated at the corner of your eyes and leaks reluctantly down your cheeks.

“Xiao,” you called out softly.

Just then, familiar hands caress your cheeks, wiping away the tears that eluded, “Why are you crying?”

The person you wanted to see the most was now in front of you yet simultaneously was the last person you wanted.

You chuckled monotonously, “Is this a dream?”

Xiao shook his head slightly, hands never once leaving your cheeks. Slight anger submerged within you at his nonchalant attitude as you push his hands away from you. “Why are you here?”

Silence emerged with only the sounds of the rain reverberating around the room. No one moved an inch. You were still sitting up on your bed, clutching onto the white blanket whereas Xiao was standing next to the bedside unnervingly.

You half anticipate him to disintegrate into thin air once more, but what you didn’t expect was him to sit next to you on the bed. He grasps your hands with his, holding it carefully as if you were a porcelain doll ready to shatter at any given moment.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Thousands of rebuttals were ready to be hurled at him, but you waited patiently instead for him to continue. After weeks, you were finally getting some answers.

“One day I might be contaminated with evil itself. These hands...” He trailed off, hands withdrawing from yours.

Your eyes trails from his hands to his face. The moonlight reflecting through the window, illuminates his beautiful face. Now that you gotten a closer look, you realize that he looks tired, worn down from years of torment.

The anger subsided, leaving nothing but love for the man in front of you.

You reach out for his face, lifting him out of his thoughts. Your eyes never left his, hoping to convey your adoration towards the man. You reach out for his rough hands littered with callouses that developed over the years.

You bring his hands to your cheeks, resting on them before leaving a soft kiss onto one of them. “These hands have brought so much happiness. The crystalflies you gathered that day, the soft hands that would comfort me during a nightmare...You’ve done so much.” You crawled onto his lap, resting your forehead on his, hands never once leaving his.

“No matter what, I want to be with you.” With that you closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips onto his. Compacted In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, thousands of loving thoughts condensed into this kiss. Your heartbeats resonated in each other’s ears, and you could only focus on how soft he felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all your senses. You continue to place soft kisses to convey how much you love him, before slowly, detaching yourself from his embrace and resting your forehead against his, “Even if my time is short...”

The two of you remain in the comfort of each other's arms, with only the wind reverberating against the window in this long night. Instead of an everlasting adepti and an ordinary human, it was just Xiao and you, hearts connected. The sand in the hourglass can’t be stopped until it reaches its end, but for now you will enjoy the flow with the person you love most.

[mingoyeob-archive]

1 and 50 with oc😊

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

jsfejfkhw these keep ending up longer than intended but I'm doing this for you anon <3 thank you so much for requesting!

I'm still taking requests guys if you want to send some in! check out my tag 'drabble game' to see which ones I've already done :)

1. “I can’t believe I’m doing this” + 50. “You’re lucky I love you” - jjk x reader - word count: 1.6k

Being new to Uwhen meant knowing practically no one. You would think living in a castle full of knights and servants and maids meant you would always have someone to keep you company, but no. Your naturally soft spoken ways and tendency to distance yourself from crowds only pushed you to hole yourself up in your room or hide outside amongst the courtyard and stables. Namjoon must've noticed how lost and lonely you always looked (it was his job to look after the castle and its tenants after all) because after your umpteenth walk around the garden that day, he took it upon himself to assign you a task that would, hopefully, put you in better spirits.

“Here, take this.” A small travel and a pair of petite leather gloves was shoved in your direction, dwarfed by Namjoon's hands as he held them out to you. You reared your head back in surprise, eyes fleeting back and forth between the items and his expectant face, “What are these for?”

“For you!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening and face breaking out into a dimpled smile.

You let out a noise of confusion and quirked an eyebrow, finger pointing to your chest in question, “For...me? What do I need these for?” You had no idea what had got into the man, he barely ever talked to you, always busy dealing with some issue in the kitchen or trying to order supplies. It made you feel kind of guilty, that was all stuff you should’ve been doing as the Lady of the Castle, but your lack of education and inability to manage money correctly made the tasks nearly impossible.

Namjoon just cleared his throat, dropping his outstretched hands when you showed no signs of taking them from him. “Well I figured, since you look so dreadfully bored, perhaps picking up a hobby would make you feel better. I believe gardening is a great way to pass the time.”

So cautiously you had taken them. Not even your father expected you to do manual labor back at home, so this was unheard of, “I can't believe I’m doing this.” you said. Namjoon let out a snort at your words before proceeding to show you the areas around the castle that needed the most help, not that you needed him too as you had already walked them probably a hundred times over.  But still, from that day forward, you woke up early to garden and after three years you had rehabilitated the garden, the areas around the stables, pruned the shrubs and even pulled up a nasty infestation of weeds that surrounded the cobblestone pathways. But with your husband Jungkook finally coming home you had begun to put off your to-do list in a last ditch attempt to try and get to know him better, which was easier said than done.

You often compared Jungkook to the stone wall that surrounded the castle, hard to get through and constantly surrounded in a grey monotonous mood. Your efforts to hold a conversation with him were typically met with one word answers or a measly grunt which you learned, depending on the tone, was either a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.  Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if he was listening, which you could understand was hard since most of the times you caught him he was either in the middle of overseeing training or stuffing food in his mouth. Still, sometimes you wished he would take a second to hear you out; to want to get to know you as much as you wanted to know him.

So today you had decided to put a pause in your plan to discover your husband and instead went back to tackling your goal of finally fixing up the courtyard. There wasn’t really much to do in terms of the small area, the circular shape didn’t allow much except for a few benches and flower patches here and there. The most challenging part was the large oak tree that stood right in the middle surrounded by crinkled leaves and dying twigs. It was almost sad. Yoongi had told you the tree had been here as long as he can remember, probably a few hundred years.

“It didn’t always look like this, ya know. The old maids in the kitchen say it used to be the pride and joy of Uwhen. Hard to believe that now though.” His words had basically been a challenge, even if that hadn’t been his intention. By the end of this year, you were going to revive the tree no matter what it took.

And that was how Jungkook found you, covered in dirt and cutting at thick grass that surrounded the trunk of the tree. He was used to waking up in bed with your side empty, sheets neatly tucked and spot cold. But usually you would find your way to him by the middle of the day, telling him all about what you had spent doing around the castle, and even if he didn’t show it those times were the favorite part of his evening. Listening to your relaxing voice after a hard day of training with pestering young knights and sitting in war meetings was like being soothed by the softest melody. Oftentimes it left him speechless. How was he expected to compare your lovely stories to his boring responsibilities? He preferred listening to you rather than himself. You were probably only doing this out of pity anyway; why would you want to spend time with him when he so obviously made you uncomfortable judging by how tense and shaky you always were when in his presence.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching must’ve alerted you to his presence, your head whipping around and working fingers halting. Jungkook stood there awkwardly, embarrassed to have been caught staring at you so openly, “Sorry. I’ll leave.” he said, turning on his heel.

But the small giggle you let out in response had him stopping in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat, “Why would you leave? This is your castle and you’re free to roam wherever you please. Just pretend I’m not here, I’m just fixing up the tree a bit.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Way to sound like an asshole, Jungkook thought. The wide expression you had at his question had him internally scrambling to correct himself, “I mean...it’s obviously dead. Why waste your time?” You shook your head and pulled the dirty gloves off your fingers to place them on the ground, “Well it's not a waste of time to me. It’s actually pretty fun! Here,” you extended a hand out to him from your spot on the ground, beckoning him forward. “Would you like to try?”

“Me?” he quirked an eyebrow and pointed a finger to his chest. Talk about deja vu you thought amused and let out a giggle,“Yes you! Come on, I'll show you how.”

Jungkook just stared at you with his signature steely gaze and for a second you assumed he was going to walk away, uninterested in having to spend more time with you than necessary. But you watched in surprise when instead he proceeded over to you, taking your hand as he sat cautiously down next to you on the ground. He wondered if you could hear his heart beating hard in his chest at feeling how dainty and perfect your hand fit into his.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent time sitting in the dirt, you showing him the correct way to cut out the invasive roots to prevent them from growing back or how to properly plant the seeds to make sure the rain didn’t wash them away. And for once, Jungkook actually looked like he was listening, taking the time to ask questions when he didn’t completely understand why you had to do something a particular way. One question actually had you throwing your head back in laughter, ugly snorts and squeaky noises escaping your throat at how amused you were.

You always did hate your laugh, but for some reason Jungkook was mesmerized at how beautiful you looked, too caught up in how the sunlight framed your face just perfectly and how the rays hit the expanse of perfect skin down the column of your neck. He must’ve not been paying attention and got distracted while trying to cut something from the ground, because the next thing you know he was letting out a hiss and you heard the thump as he recoiled his hand effectively dropping the small shears. You jumped towards him in concern, reaching out to take his hand in yours to inspect the wound on his finger.

“Oh! Are you alright, Jungkook?!” You say and pull the digit up to your face, turning it to fully grasp how serious the cut was.

Jungkook hadn’t responded at first, heart warmed by how worried you seemed. Your face was so close to his he became distracted again, only realizing you had asked a question when you peeked up at him waiting for a response. He nodded, “Yes. I’m fine. Just a cut.”

You tsked, “I think we might need to wrap it. We can come back later to clean up but right now let's take you to wash this off, hmm?” You gave him a small smile of confirmation.

Jungkook didn’t say much else as you two got up off the ground, following you back towards the castle. When he finally did utter something from behind you, his words made you gasp, “You’re lucky I love you.”

[cockasinthebird]

Forever ago I talked about writing a “kiss cam au” that I never got to finish, and perhaps never will, but I’m still actually very happy with what I’ve got! So here you have it, three pages worth of Kiss Cam 

-

The fact that she didn’t say yes right away should have been a clear enough sign of her reluctance to go, but Steve was far too overcome with excitement of having won the tickets to really consider her hesitance as anything unusual. And looking back it wasn’t even the first time she “needed time to think”, but Steve was in love, and he thought that she was too. 

To be fair he did ask Tommy first if he wanted to go to the game, considering how obsessed he is with their college’s baseball team, but he and Carol were going on a roadtrip with her parents, leaving the day after summer break started, and Robin hates attending sports events unless there’s a promise of cheerleaders.

And maybe the fact that Nancy wasn’t his first, or even second, choice should have made everything clearer for Steve, too.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” he asks, a slight waver to his voice that he’ll claim is from excitement, but truthfully he’s starting to feel a bit… bashful, as he carries his pretzel, bag of peanuts, and large soda away from the concession stand.

“I’m fine, I have my water bottle,” comes her response with a shake of the mostly full bottle. She meets with Steve’s gaze for barely a second with a strained smile, before returning her look to the sticky floor.

“Really, whatever you want, I’m paying-”

“Steve, I-... it’s ok, I’m still full from lunch,” she sighs, heavy and edging on irritated perhaps, or at least that’s the way Steve hears it. She barely even finished her scone at the café earlier.

“Alright, just tell me if you need something- anything, ok?” he tries, smiles and looks her in the eyes as she finally offers more than a slight glance.

And she smiles back, softly, like she really cares about making Steve happy, even if baseball isn’t her first idea for a date. Or at least that’s how he interprets it.

“Ok.”

There’s a roar echoing through the tunnel, the sound of thousands and thousands of fans hyping up for the game, San Francisco Giants versus Los Angeles Dodgers, Steve himself in a white Dodgers jersey, and even from here he can feel the energy, like an electric charge shooting through him, bringing forth goosebumps and raising the hairs on his arms from pure excitement of being in a stadium again for the first time in who knows how many years. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide, and truthfully if it wasn’t for the group of people in front of him and Nancy, he might have run out with a near child-like glee, not a care for how other people would have stared.

You’re gonna love it, he recalls telling her during the one hour drive here, It’s like being at a concert, but so much better. The camaraderie is just… so… I don’t even know how to describe it, but you’ll know it when you feel it.

Yet as they near the end of the tunnel leading to their seating area, he looks down at her and catches the way she’s chewing on her lip, hands strangling the plastic bottle till it crinkles, doubt written in between the lines of her furrowed brow. And he thinks about turning back, about telling Nancy that they can just go to the movies instead or look for a nice restaurant, whatever might make her feel better and look less dismayed, like a good boyfriend might do. You have to make sacrifices in a relationship sometimes to make it work-

But there’s a definite point of no return, as they step outside again, the faint stench of piss and beer dissipating as fresh air fills their lungs, well, fresher air - there’s still a lingering scent of sweat and musk and beer, too, but it’s lighter and less offensive, less in your face, and Steve feels invigorated by it all. Left and right he sees rows and rows of people in jerseys, foam fingers, caps, greasy food and beverages, smiles as big as his own.

This is it, the feeling of belonging, of fitting in. Despite the pushing and shoving and elbowing people do in attempts to get to their seats faster, there’s joy to be had, elation shooting through his bloodstream at just the sight of the field before him. It’s everything he remembers from the one game his dad brought him to too many years ago, and while Steve himself doesn’t care to participate in sports, it’s a feeling he’s been chasing ever since with high school baseball, and now in college he still attends every single game he can, but there’s nothing that can compare to all of this.

He inhales till it feels like his lungs might split and tear, wanting to engrain every impression of this moment into his soul, in case he’ll have to go just as many years till he can stand in such a loud and crowded space again.

Unable to look away from all the excited faces, he asks, “So, what do you think?”

“There’s… a lot of people,” Nancy says loudly in an effort to get through the horde of Dodgers fans. “Very noisy!”

“Yeah!” Steve needs to almost shout it back at her, and doesn’t deem it important to mention that that’s part of what he loves so dearly too; the inability to hear himself think, to never be alone again for as long as the game is on. 

Hell, even going to the bathroom here is a group activity surrounded by strangers that might or might not take a gander at your dick at the urinals.

“Come on, we’re just up here! Row f.”

Despite the inevitability of it, it’s still considered courteous to apologize when awkwardly making your way down the row in search of your seat, and both Steve and Nancy seem adept at it as they struggle to avoid stepping on shoes or knocking over beverages, one “Sorry” after another.

When Nancy puts a halt to the expedition. “Steve…” her voice a shy little thing only to be heard by Steve standing near flush to her back.

Steve doesn’t even need to ask what’s wrong, when looking over the top of her head is enough for him to understand why she’s this hesitant now. Loud, brash, unruly, a whole row of frat boys acting like they own this entire section, marking their territory with spilled beer and popcorn tossing. Truth be told, even Steve’s a bit intimidated just by their presence here, but refuses to let it ruin his day.

“Yeah… Yeah, you sit here and I’ll take the seat next to them, ok?”

The relief in Nancy’s strained smile is brief before falling back into the very unimpressed, very uncomfortable expression of malcontent, but this time Steve doesn’t find time to worry about her; rather he’s worried about the old, brown leather jacket thrown over his seat.

There’s a certain painfully anxious throb in his chest. From his own vague experience of the frat guys back at Purdue, they’re rarely the kind of people he’d hang around with, all that childlike pestering some just never left behind in high school. But what’s seemingly more dangerous here - sitting down on a buff stranger’s jacket, or asking him to remove it just to be told to “fuck off”.

“Excuse me, your jacket is in my seat.”

Before this stranger has even turned around Steve is already planning an exit strategy that leaves him the most dignity and preferably without getting punched, better safe than sorry and all. Between the clear tension in those broad shoulders, the way his hand grips his beer tighter, and the glare he carries as he turns to look at who dares interrupt his festivities, Steve would say it isn’t unfair to expect some unnecessary hostilities next. Yet when those refreshingly crystal clear eyes meet his, the anger furrowed in this stranger’s brow smooths out, and the way he so suddenly smiles all charming beneath that mustache, Steve fears he might blush as his heart trips over itself.

“Oh, sorry pretty boy, wasn’t sure if anyone was gonna show up.”