#haven't been feelings surveys lately sorry

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #084

What type of survey do you refuse to take? Bold ones, they bore me. Is your dog mixed or full? Cookie is a fullbreed chihuahua. Who was the last person you kissed? My boyfriend Girt. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nope. Would you take back your last boyfriend/girlfriend? Over my dead fucking body. Things she has said are absolutely unforgivable to me. I refuse to associate with her ever again.

Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No, but I did once for my neighbor in high school. How did you get your last bruise? I got my updated tetanus shot around a couple weeks ago, and while I didn't visually have a bruise on my arm, I could absolutely feel it if I applied pressure there. If you could go to Africa, would you? Without a shadow of a fucking doubt. I'm seeing South Africa one day. How often do you see your most recent ex? We live many states away, soooo never. Do you think you have made a difference in anyone’s life? I believe this is pretty much inevitable for any human with even a scrap of a social existence. How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? His birthday was just two months ago, so it's a while off, but 30. What letter does your boyfriend/girlfriend’s last name start with? "M." Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough? I am absolutely not blaming him for this, this is my own mentality that I allowed to take hold, but I've felt that way ever since Jason left. I'm still convinced I'm not good enough for anyone or anything. I just always feel like I take up space in a negative way and that's it. Do chickens have feelings? Oh, I absolutely believe they do. Chickens are more intelligent than people give them credit for. When was the last time you saw your father? At Thanksgiving. Is it hard leaving people behind? It is fucking excruciatingly hard for me. Like I know it's hard for everyone, but to my degree is just abnormal. What was the last zoo you visited? Asheboro, NC. Do you like crime films and tv shows? Not especially. I mean I don't want to say "no," because I believe I'm perfectly capable of getting into a story like this, but I don't like focusing on tragic and traumatic focuses like this when watching stuff. What colour is the bra you’re wearing? I don't have one right now. I'm home with just my mom in my pjs so I don't care. Is there anything in your possession that probably shouldn’t be? No. Have you ever wanted to be a lawyer? Hell no bro I'd cry at every case while arguing lmfao What was the last type of soda you drank? Uhhhh I think it was Coke? Is there a person you talk to every day? At the bare minimum it's always Mom and Girt. Does one of your parents ever complain to you about the other parent? My mom does that about Dad to a fucking ridiculous degree. By this point in time she's MOSTLY learned if you've got decades-old shit to bring up about him, then don't talk to me about it at all, but she still likes to and I know damn well she wants my sisters and me to hate him. It's blaringly obvious. She's bitter as hell and I get it, but... come on. It's been so, so long since they split. My dad, on the other hand, usually only says GOOD shit about Mom, like how loyal, good, and dedicated of a mother she is. Does your best friend have a job? Yeah, he's been at the same tire factory for like... nine years, I think. What is one thing you hope never changes about you? My love of animals and dedication to spreading the good word about them and stuff. Why did you break your last promise? Because keeping your "friend's" Nazism a secret from people who absolutely deserve(d) to know is not morally okay in my book. When was the last time you had cookies and milk? This was actually kinda recently, when Mom had Oreos left over from a recipe she'd made. Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story? Sara's dad's story is honestly quite impressive. He's a very good guy. Everyone has a certain part of their body they don’t like. What’s yours? Literally my entire fucking body. Worst are my stomach and legs, though. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah, I think a couch is a pretty normal place for that to end up happening. Has your name been in someone’s Facebook status lately? Only to tag me to see something. Do you prefer to eat carrots raw or cooked? I hate carrots, period. Do you get a lot of tourists in the area where you live? Oh, hell no. There is not a single interesting thing about this area. What artistic medium or style seems to have the greatest impact on you emotionally? Photography that focuses on suffering, probably. Like my favorite photo in the world is that one where a young, emaciated boy in a third-world country is seen curled up on the ground and a nearby vulture is observing him, seemingly literally waiting for him to die. They're upsetting photos to look at, of course, but they drive me the hardest to help make the world better. If you make art, do you have a favorite medium or style that you prefer to use or that best helps you express yourself emotionally? Even if I don't do it nearly enough, that would be drawing ventful artwork traditionally, pretty much always where my feelings are personified as a fucked-up meerkat of some sort. What was the last new video game you were excited about? I last watched some new release stuff for the remake of Resident Evil 4 and I am so, SO beyond hyped for that fucking game. The original was my first RE experience and I cherish it very much. [PROBS VERY TMI] Have you ever broken a bed or other furniture during sex? not exactly sex itself but yes lmao BUT not like, severely. Would you play naked Twister? No, not even if I was confident in my body. That's too far for me to be even remotely comfortable. When you die, would you rather be buried or cremated? Cremated and ashes spread in the same area of Yellowstone that I'm hoping to place Teddy's. Both of these will of course need permission though. What’re three physical features you get complimented on a lot? THREE? Oh, jeez. Uh. My hair is probably number one, then #2 is my Markiplier tribute tattoo. Then I guess uh... my eyes? Maybe? Who’s a current friend that you’ve known the longest? Mazzy. What video games did you play when you were growing up? The Spyro trilogy was my favorite, but I also played lots of Crash Bandicoot and then games that were based off kiddy movies and shows. Oddly enough, I also loved hunting games, even though even then I would NEVER have harmed an animal irl. To this day I don't quite know why I enjoyed them, though there's one I've played as an adult that I liked because it relaxed me?? Idk bro. What's the most stressful job you've ever had? Probably sales clerk at the dollar store. I was INCREDIBLY stressed when I had to be the cashier. Do you have a first aid kit at home? Well yeah, I hope everybody does. That's important. How many places have you lived in your life? Legally/officially, five houses, but I've also stayed in two apartments for brief periods. Are your parents dog or cat people? Is that different or the same as you? I'm pretty sure both are dog people (I KNOW Mom is), however since living with his wife, Dad has only had cats, but I feel like he clicks with dogs more, but I could be wrong. Are there sounds that bother you on a visceral level? Absolutely vomiting. I know nobody likes it, but I literally cannot stand it. I WILL puke myself. If somebody is doing it, I am immediately and quickly leaving or violently plugging my ears. Are you inside right now? If you're home, what room of the house are you in? Yeah, I'm in the spare room. Did you/will you have coffee or some other form of caffeine today? Most likely not. Do you bathe your pets regularly? No; a ball python really doesn't need it unless they're dealing with stuck shed, Roman is a cat so does fine cleaning himself (plus he's an indoor animal, so), and Cookie is a tiny little chihuahua that stays inside too so is really never dirty. Coincidentally just the other day though, my mom did dry shampoo her. When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? I gotta be honest, I blast it. It annoys my mom a lot because I very frequently won't hear her calling me. Have you ever watched an anime series, start to finish? Yeah, a few. Do you have a friend named Nick? What’s his favourite food? No, but that's my sister's husband's name, and I can't stand him. I don't know or care what his favorite food is, honestly. What is the best product made from milk? Ice cream. How would you feel if your husband didn’t want to wear a wedding ring? That would make me suspicious, honestly. Unless the ring was seriously uncomfortable. What do you want your wedding song to be? I'm not entirely certain yet. I've got ideas, but nothing official. True/false: if it’s meant to be, it will be. False. I don't believe in "meant to be"s. Do you feel like your life would be better without a certain person in it? Not with the people currently in my life. I don't think. You go to the restroom and you see a huge spider, what do you do? I'd be nervous, but try to find a way to safely get it outside without touching it directly. Is there a game you’re addicted to? No. I'm playing WoW more than usual because the new expansion literally just dropped, but I haven't been addicted to the game in years. As a child what celebrity did you look up to? Steve Irwin. I still plan on getting a comic book popup-like tattoo of "crikey!" one day, probably on my left forearm. He was my fucking hero and idol. What books are you reading? I just finished Wings of Fire: Escaping Peril yesterday, and I plan on starting The Testaments by Margaret Atwood next because I HAVE that one and Ma doesn't want to order a new book 'til Christmas. Do you remember the person you first kissed? I genuinely doubt even dementia or other conditions of the sort could ever let me forget him, too. Jason is fucking hard-wired into my brain and probably always will be. What does your best friend call you? "Britt," alongside various pet names. How many people would you say you’ve been “serious” with? Three. Do you ever get goodnight or good morning texts from people? Sometimes from Girt, but over Discord instead of texting. If you could choose to be any mythical character, which would you choose? Probably a dryad or faerie of some sort. Do you find yourself on YouTube a lot? I basically live on YouTube. Something is always on. Are you satisfied with your gender? Yeah, my gender has never really mattered to me. The term carries no weight for me personally so I just identify with my biological sex. Has anyone suspected you of being a different sexuality? Even before I came out, yes. I had an awful therapist in middle school who assumed I was lesbian, and I shit you the fuck not it was only because I hadn't liked anyone romantically yet. I WAS A KID. Does it bother you to have blood drawn or not so much? I mean I don't like it, but it's whatever. What would you say is your favorite type of flower? I think light pink tulips beat even orchids for me.

[reverieblondie]

Be Sweet to Me

Chapter 2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. Alternating POVs, wandering eyes.

Summary: He saved you, why did he save you? And why is he so familiar?

A/N: Okay I know I haven't updated this series in a while BUT! I swear I will never just leave a series unfinished! I hate when I get invested in something and the writer doesn't finish! So updates might be slow but that's because I am putting a lot of thought into this. (Plus just slow writer, sorry!)

Word count: 3,523

Part 1

It tingles still….

Miguel rubs his hand on his neck where you had fixed his tie, hours later and he can still feel the tingling warmth your fingertips left behind. Even the slightest touch stirs him still, he thought he would be over this by now considering how often you two bump into each other and all your friendly gestures. Every time it's an electric shock through his system. -Annoying…

Layla says it’s from being touched-starved but he rather eat a pile of rocks before he admits that to himself…though…the sensation only happens when you are touching him. -of course. 

From the top of the building Miguel watches as you walk back to your apartment, you have been working late again… he told you to get home on time but of course, you don’t listen to him… it’s dangerous to be walking home alone at night, especially with the hopelessly addicted taking every opportunity to mug people for their fix. Hints why he’s here surveying the city, not you, why would he be watching you? He just happened to be in the area when he spotted you, nothing weird. 

Miguel watches as you walk without a care bobbin your head to whatever you're listening to. You shouldn't be walking around at night with earbuds in, how irresponsible…though that thought quickly dissolves into another as his stare lingers in you. 

Have you always looked this good? Your hair cascading perfectly down, shining bright eyes, and the way your hips are swaying so…tantalizingly. Miguel groans and turns away from you, shutting those thoughts down instantly. He can’t think that about you, he works with you, you're annoying and touchy, and if he had thoughts about you it could complicate things. 

Plus, besides all that being Spider-Man was filled with a lot of responsibility and then there was the multiverse and…everything that went with that….

No, this was best…being alone meant he could be focused, he couldn’t afford to slip up…to let anything distract him…

Shaking off the feelings Miguel’s eyes go back towards you. As he continues to watch you he sees that it’s no longer just you walking down the dark sidewalk but a hood-clad figure steadily approaching with their head down. Okay, Miguel knows from experience what’s about to happen, it’s textbook at this point. The guy is going to pull out a weapon and take your stuff. Miguel or well Spider-Man will make sure he doesn’t get far with your things. 

Right on cue, as the man is about to pass you he speeds up, grabbing your bag and pulling. Though this doesn’t go as expected…

Usually, the bag gets grabbed, the person screams for help and the burglar goes off running for him to web up and get the bag back. Instead, you hold onto your bag pulling back, the guy looks at you surprised and Miguel matches the expression.

Pulling the guy's face goes from surprised to irritated, “Let go of the bag!” 

You pull back, “You let go of the bag asshole!” 

“Don’t make me hurt you!” The man starts to go for something hidden in his waistband and Miguel knows that now he has to intervene. 

As the tug-of-war match continues it is interrupted by Miguel or Spider-Man jumping down and scaring the absolute shit out of the two of you. The guy gives one more tug before he relents, pushing the bag back at you and running away. Typically Miguel is just running and webbing up the attacker not giving the attack any attention, but this was you and despite his logical thinking he decides to stay by your side. Very atypical for Spider-Man. 

Turning to look at you he sees you on the ground looking up at him completely gobsmacked. Okay, you look surprised…maybe he should say something to ease the tension…

“Usually people just let go of the bag” -nice, meet her actions with judgment. 

Tilting your head at him you stand up, “Why would I have done that? I’m not going to let some creep try and take my stuff” 

He sighs, sliding his hand down his face and he feels his patience thinning. “What you did was reckless and you could get yourself hurt or worse killed.” 

Placing your hands on your hips you cock an eyebrow at him, funny you must have picked up the expression from him. “Aren't you the one who says we have to learn to protect ourselves?” 

Miguel can’t help but step forward meeting your combative attitude, clearly, you saw a video of the bus incident, “Yeah but that doesn’t mean act reckless and get yourself killed.” 

 “And to think, everyone thinks you don’t care about the city or the people,” you say with a giggle. -only you can meet this whole thing with some kind of humor, being friendly to a masked man whom the city hates. 

“People can believe what they want.” he turns away to end his conversation with you. 

“Well, I believe in you, Spider-Man.” 

This makes him stop in his tracks turning towards you once more

“What?”

“I bel-” he holds up his hand silencing you as he approaches you closer and closer. Why is this bothering him? 

“I heard you, why?” you're backing away from him, and he reads your face, you should be scared…but you're not…

“Well, I believe that someone who looks after the city like you can’t be a bad guy…” 

He's still approaching you, he’s intimidating you back into a wall successfully cornering you. “Maybe they are all right to hate and fear me…maybe you're wrong for seeing me as a hero…” 

Why is he doing this…

He has too…

He has to push you away…he has to keep you distant, everyone distant…

Miguel becomes lost in his thoughts, he knows he needs to distance himself, He wants you to be scared, to make you hate him…though he does want your friendship, but he can’t risk it. Not after everything that has happened. 

Then a rush of warmth spreads through him, and your soft hand is pressed to his shoulder…it's a comforting gesture like you're trying to console him. To reach out to him. Miguel's breath nearly stops; it feels like lightning rushing through him.  

“You're not perfect, but you're not as bad as you want everyone to believe.” 

He feels his eyes widen and he knows from the slight tilt of your head that his expression is being reflected through the mask. Miguel backs away no longer caging you between his arms. Shaking off the feeling he turns away from you, irritation blooming within his chest. Why do you always know how to rattle him…

“Just get home without getting yourself killed…” 

Shooting his red web he swings off away from you, lighting still lingering through him from your touch. 

----

Finally home…

With a groan you take off your shoes and put down your things, stripping away your work clothes as you make it through your apartment towards your bedroom. Today has been…interesting to say the least…

Getting dressed into your comfortable clothes you lay back in your bed staring blankly at the ceiling until you can’t suppress the urge any longer. Reaching aimlessly you grab your pad and search for the thing that has consumed your thoughts on your walk home. 

Spider-Man, 

Looking him up you see, what you expected, people complaining about him. News outlets saying that he is a menace and needs to be stopped. People talked about him sharing their experiences, the overwhelming consensus being: that people were not too fond of the grouchy spider. You however were more lenient in his behavior. 

Having to save a city can’t be easy, sure he could use some consulting with a good PR agent but he's trying his best to protect everyone. He came to your rescue tonight, he just seems like he’s tired. Irritated for sure but not evil.

As you're scrolling through the articles about him you stop on a picture of the masked vigilantly. Unblurred pictures were a rarity and this was one of the very few, considering you just had an encounter with him the picture does little to actually depict the stature of him. How intimidating he is, it's funny you hardly ever get intimidated, the only person who has intimidated you lately…

Your face scrunches and you look back at your tablet looking at the picture again then you quickly open up another screen typing with haste till both pictures are side by side. 

It's a picture of Miguel in his lab coat standing for a picture with the whole genetics department, a request made from the higher-ups for all the departments to do group photos. You remember how pissed Miguel was having to take the picture, a permanent frown on his face as the rest of the department smiles brightly, including you right next to Miguel. You had tried everything to get him to smile but nothing seemed to work. 

Looking at the picture you see how big Miguel is compared to everyone else. Tall and muscular just like a hero you know, and they both seemed to be rather…grumpy…

Closing the screens you shake your head at the crazy thought. Miguel O’Hara is not Spider-Man there's just no way! 

Laying in bed you stare upwards as your brain ticks with the possibilities. There could be crazier guesses but Miguel? Really? How could you even figure something like that out? Plus do you want to know? No, it’s too outlandish…

After a long night filled with dreams of Spider-man and Miguel you can’t help how you're starting to see even more similarities…

At work, you go through your usual duties, bring assignments to Miguel, and checking developments from projects you had sent off, the usual. Miguel of course was at work by the time you arrived, always so early stretching himself so thin for this place that you didn’t even think he truly liked it. Everyone had their views and thoughts on Alchemax but they typically didn’t challenge the higher-ups like Miguel did. Honestly, it's one of the first things that drew you to him, he wasn’t scared to call people on their bull no matter who it was. Though sometimes he is the throwing bullshit that you're quick to tease him about. 

That’s kinda heroic, isn’t it? Standing up to big corporations then they are being jerks? 

Turning your head you watch as Miguel reads through reports and wipes his hand over his face in irritation…huh, that’s another thing he did…

Instead of wondering what could be making him irritated like a good coworker you just rest your chin in hand and observe…looking for something. 

Taking his lab coat off he seems to be getting even more frustrated, leaning it over his chair as he starts frantically swiping at screens. Watching his back you see how his muscles seem to fight the shirt's material like it wants to rip at any moment. Placing his hands on his waist, you can’t help how your eyes follow his strong arms, to his narrow waist, then wandering to his ass…

A part of you is screaming to look away. This is a HR complaint waiting to happen, but as you tilt your head you look at his ass more carefully a thought crosses your mind. The flashing thought of Spider-man walking away from you and then swinging away. Sure, it might be creepy to have checked out the hero's butt, and to now be doing it to your co-worker…just the similarity is uncanny…Can you even recognize someone from their butt? 

Very discreetly you pull out your phone to look up pictures of Spider-man. You find one, from behind. As you look at the picture and then at Miguel you think that it is uncanny how similar they look from the back.

Miguel then turns to you suddenly catching your eyes being on him. You feel your cheeks warm and quickly put away your phone and start arranging your work.  

“We are going to have to stay late tonight,” he says in a grumble. 

Miguel seems tired…the bags under his eyes are more prevalent than normal. Honestly you don’t know if he could handle a late night of work, it looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Usually, you would give some kind of sassy response to the news, perhaps saying how he couldn’t even stay late because of how he looks, but today you decide to remain quiet; this might be a good opportunity for you to do some…investigating…

---- 

He’s got to get rest, he can feel his head bobbing as he stares at the different samples trying to urge his eyes to focus and his mind to wake up. Miguel is tired and he can feel his body becoming sluggish. It's been 72 hours without proper rest and it's starting to take its toll on him. He can't keep doing this but he has no other option. 

Miguel stands up stretching, his muscles stretch and pop and as he extends his hands up above his head. As he gets lost in the sublet moment of relaxation he hears your steps approaching carefully, almost like you're not trying to disturb him. -that's different from how you typically act. 

Opening his eyes he sees you waiting patiently with a smile, two hot cups of coffee in your hands.

“Tired?” you ask in a teasing-like manner as if the wrinkles and bags under his eyes were not a dead giveaway to his affliction.

“No” - lies…

Holding up one of the coffees towards him you smile gently. Of course, you thought to bring him coffee, you must have clocked how sluggish he's been moving today. With a careful lazy motion, Miguel takes the cup from your hand and gives you a nod, he can’t bring himself to do more considering how exhausted he is. 

Turning away from him Miguel's lazy gaze goes to your figure as you start to pittle away organizing his desk. Miguel feels his eyes rake all over his body in a cloudy haze, you look so…soft…so malleable, he could easily move you around, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. Miguel quickly shakes away the delirious thoughts and instead starts drinking the piping hot coffee. 

As the coffee enters his mouth he suddenly no longer feels the waves of tiredness but the sharp hit of disgust. What did you make this with dirty dishwater? 

“I hope you like the coffee, they didn't have what I usually make, so I tried something different.” swinging back around you smile brightly towards him. Typically Miguel would have no problem spitting it out and giving his criticism, but he can't seem to bring himself to do it. All that he can think about when he sees you looking at him expectantly is how kind you are towards him. It brings him to give a tight-lipped smile along with a nod that has you beaming at your experimentation. 

Right as you turn around Miguel is spitting the foul liquid back in the cup unnoticed by you, he knew you were not good at making coffee but that crap was ridiculous!  

“So…I have a question for you Miguel…” you say casually.

Miguel places the foul drink down while he takes his seat back at his desk. Humming at your question, he’s half paying attention to you. He just needs to fix these reports and then he has to get back to society. As Miguel's mind races with thought he continues to feverishly type, until he hears the word ‘Spider-man’ slip from your lips and he pauses turning to face you. 

“W-what?” 

“I asked what you think of this Spider-man guy?” Miguel studies you, he feels his nerves on high alert…could you…no. You're smart but you couldn’t have figured that out. Maybe you're just wanting to talk about last night? He just needs to stay calm. 

“I don’t,” he responds flatly as he goes back to work.  

From the corner of his eye, he sees you plopping down to sit on his desk, looking up he sees that you're already looking down at him. It's kinda intimidating…your look is so intense…focused on him. Miguel can tell you want to say more, and a part of him wants you to. Then your classic sweet smile spreads to your lips.

“Did you hear he got punched by an old lady?” -uhhhgggg…biggest misunderstanding….

Miguel can no longer resist the temptation, “Why are you asking about him?” 

“Just curious I guess…” 

“Why?” 

He watches as you shrug “Just he’s interesting, a guy who seems to hate the city but then he’s always saving it. Makes you wonder.” 

Miguel can’t control the words that slip from him next “What do you wonder…” 

You look at him surprised before you answer very simply, “How he’s doing”

Miguel and you watch each other for a beat. Right as your mouth opens to say something else his watch starts blaring. -shit…

Getting up quickly he excuses himself, making some excuse but an important call he's been waiting on. Going out of the lab into the empty hallway he ducks into the nearest bathroom to pick up the transmission. Popping up he sees Peter, 

“Miguel, sorry to disturb you but there is a problem…we got a lizard anomaly in your area.” 

Miguel looks at him confused, “Wait? In my dimension?”

That hasn’t happened in a while…damn, now he has to go handle that. Typically he would send people to deal with it, but he doesn't want to deal with the aftermath of people seeing more spiders in the city. If anyone found out about the multi-spiders or the HQ or what he’s been doing it could lead to catastrophic events. 

Coming back to the lab you look at him confused, before you can ask what the call was about he’s cutting you off, “I have to go, go ahead and clean up and get out of here.”  

Furrowing your brows you get closer to him as he gathers his things, “Wait what? I thought staying late was your idea. Now you're just leaving? Is everything alright?”  

Why must you ask questions… “I am fine, I just have to get out of here, important date…” 

Miguel starts heading to the door typing on his watch and finding the anomaly coordinates when your voice calls out to him. 

“Where did you go yesterday?” 

Miguel stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder back at you, he needs to go deal with the anomaly but your question is laced with seriousness. He sighs…

“Mind your own business, and clean up. Then get home.” 

With that he leaves, this just isn’t his night. 

----

What the hell? Of course, he runs off, it was his idea to stay here late then he runs off leaving you to have to wrap up everything, and what’s with his cold response? Sure you know it’s not your business, but what is he always doing? And a date? Does he mean a date date or something else? Why is he so infuriating!  

Going to his lab table, you grab the coffee he didn’t finish and start cleaning up his desk. What could be so important that he had to leave in such a rush? Why is he so irritated, and tired? As you shuffle together his reports you pause for a moment, what if…

No-

You quickly shake the thought of putting down the papers and going to the sink to pour the coffee down the sink. You're trying to just clean up and not let your imagination get the best of you but the same thought keeps flashing in your brain…Spider-man….Miguel…

Tapping your foot you look around at the lab, and Miguel's desk. You're playing back your interactions in your mind, how frantically he had to leave, how tired he seemed…

Taking out your phone you quickly type the news and see that there is a breaking news update…and just like you suspected there is, pressing the video you watch the alert. 

“Citizens in East Neava keep alert, the masked vigilante known as Spider-Man has been spotted in the area fighting an unidentifiable creature. The police report that Spider-man has been inquired and are now taking the opportunity to comb the area to find him, they suspect he can not get far due to his inquiries, and that they will finally bring this menace to justice.” 

While the news plays you watch a video of the fight, Spider-man is fighting some kind of reptilian creature. The footage is shaky and grainy but the last thing you see is the creature getting thrown and Spider-Man getting his side ripped into as he lets out a strained cry. Then the video cuts off. 

You stand there stiff, You're in the east city…Spider-man is hurt…and that cries…it…it can’t be true…

“Miguel…” 

Taking one last look at his desk, you're sprinting for your things, rushing out of the empty building. You're unsure, your mind is clouded with suspicion and confusion. You don’t know if they are the same…but if they are…he needs help…

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @aisyakirmann @spdrwdw @huniedeux @rosegnome @straw-berry-ghoul @migueloharastruelove @skylertully @keiva1000

[sherifftillman]

Sugar and Spice

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), sugar daddy!steve, age gap (reader in their 20s, steve however old you envision this version of him to be [i see it as early 40s]), daddy kink, mention of breeding kink, unprotected piv (don't be silly, wrap your willy), fingering, oral (m + f receiving), light choking

Summary: Your benefactor's colleagues have been itching to get him to go to dinner with them, so you do what any good sugar baby would do and help him out, but not without making sure you get a little something, first.

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! @eddiemunsons-missingnipple made this edit of older!Steve and I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head since.

"C'mon, pretty thing," Steve singsongs to you from the bedroom, "we'd really better start making a move soon, and I still see that dress that I bought you for tonight still on the closet door."

Continuing to check yourself out in the mirror, you call back, "I'm sorry, but I used the card to buy you a little extra gift and even I'm liking it."

"Oh, you did?" Steve purrs with intrigue. "Well, now I really don't want to be kept waiting."

You emerge from the bathroom, wearing the red lacy number that's somehow keeping your breasts perky with next to nothing holding them up - the feat you truly were admiring - connected to your matching panties, the main feature of which you keep hidden by crossing one leg in front of the other as you pose for him. "There's some lace and ribbon cuffs, too, but I thought you'd want to play with them later, instead."

Steve looks you up and down with the hunger of a starved lion surveying its succulent prey, his fingers carding through his beard as he strokes his jaw. Giggling, you twirl around to show him how your ass looks in this particular lingerie too before twirling back, and he silently strides forward to take your hips into his hands and kiss you fervently. You moan into his mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him back, eventually grinning against his lips, "So, you like 'em, Daddy?"

"Fuck, yes, I do, baby," he murmurs back between kisses. "But you're gonna make us late to dinner, and it was you who insisted we go to this stupid thing to begin with."

"We can be a little late," you tease back, pressing your palms into his chest.

Pressing his hips into yours, he hisses through his teeth, "It's gonna be a lot more than a little once I'm through with you, angel… C'mon, the quicker you get that dress on, the quicker we can go, which means the quicker we can leave, which means the quicker we can…" He falters as he runs his large hands up and down your arms.

"You're the one who can't keep your hands off of me," you point out with a smirk.

"I can stop any time I want, baby, I'm just giving you the loving I know you want," he croons back. "I can let go as soon as you back up just a little bit.”

“Oh, I can absolutely back it up if that’s what you want,” you smile coyly as you turn around and lean back against him.

“No, no, you know that’s not what - oh my god,” he ducks his head to moan breathily into your ear. “Oh, sweet thing, you are going to be the death of me.”

“You like feeling my ass grinding against you, Daddy?” you ask in a particular inflection that you know drives Steve wild.

“You know I do,” Steve groans as he pulls you closer by your hips. “Feel me getting harder for you?” You nod. “God, we are going to be so very late.”

“That’s okay, they can just hold our table," you shrug matter-of-factly, and his laugh bubbles against your shoulder as he kisses it, his facial hair leaving goosebumps on your now-sensitive skin.

"Oh, they can? And how does my baby know that?"

"I know everything," you lean your head back against his chest, looking up to grin at him.

He takes the chance to wrap his hand around your throat to guide your face for him to be able to kiss you, and you can feel his passion burning between your lips. "I guess that's true," he mutters lowly, his finger and thumb still gently pushing on just the right places. "So I suppose you know where I want you now, right?"

You take a quick scan around you, biting your lip. The bathroom has the mirror and counter sex appeal, but there's not a whole lot of room for him to really appreciate you, so you assume he must mean somewhere in the bedroom. The bed would be too obvious, you know he never likes to start fucking you on top of his dresser…

As you move to stand with your back pressed against the one bare expanse of wall without furniture or decor adorning it, a wide smile creeps along Steve's face. "I forget sometimes just how smart you are before I fuck your brains out," he coos as his hands slowly snake their way onto your hips, pressing you against the wall as he resumes kissing you. "Were you thinking about me in that bathroom, angel? About what I'd do to you?" You whimper in affirmation, and he continues between kisses, "Yeah? Bet you wanted me to go in after you and just immediately bend you over the counter so you could throw that ass back on my dick over and over. Am I right, baby?" His tone is the perfect balance of soft and firm.

You nod with a strained, "Yes, Daddy," as his thumbs brush against your nipples.

"Oh, baby, baby," he groans. "How many times do I have to fuck you to prove it to you, that you are worth so much more than a quick one, hm?"

"And yet, whenever we go out and there's a bathroom…" You tease with a smirk, and he pinches your nipples, making you gasp sharply.

"Are you backtalking to me, little brat?" he asks with a little more warning in his voice, and you shake your head. "Good. Because I'm sure my good, smart girl knows that while she's under my roof, she will be worshipped for as long as she behaves herself. Doesn't she?" You nod, and his hand slides down between your legs until he feels the last surprise of the outfit you picked. "Crotchless panties? Oh, you delicious little whore, you really do spoil me," he moans, bending down to kiss your neck as his fingers slide easily inside of you.

Letting out a loud moan at his touch, you grin, "I'm so glad you like them, Daddy. It took so long to pick out just the right set."

"You can make any set infinitely sexier, baby," he mutters between pecks beneath your ear as his fingers work you, gently but expertly. "You're so smart for picking this one out, though. Such a good girl for me, you like it when I fingerfuck you?" You nod again, feeling lightheaded from all his praise, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "No more cute little nods, baby, you have to use your words now. Tell me how much you love having my fingers inside of you."

"Please - feels so good, Daddy," you keen, bucking yourself further into his touch.

"Ohh, fuck, yes, you love it, don't you?" He groans against your skin, though he doesn't give into your hints of moving faster. You can feel the skin that his beard has touched tingle even when he's moved sides. "Mmm, but Daddy wants a taste of his favourite meal." Steve pulls his fingers out slowly and deliberately before sucking them clean with some very exaggerated facial expressions to show he loves the taste of you. "Oh, fuck, baby, that's not enough, I gotta have more." He sinks to his knees and studies the way you clench over nothing as he rubs at your clit before dipping his head down to plunge his tongue deep inside of you and start fucking you with it. Finally giving you the tempo you've been craving.

You whine, "Oh, god, thank you, Daddy, thank you," as you reach down to ball your fists in his hair. The ever-so-slight crunch of you messing up his perfectly coiffed and sprayed hair feels just that little bit extra satisfying.

"That's it, my sweet, polite little girl," he coos, pressing kisses between your legs as he looks up at you. "God, I love watching you fall apart for me from down here."

"I love… Watching you watch me," you pant out as his nose nuzzles at your clit.

"Mmm, you know what I love more, though?" he asks rhetorically as his hand already starts to grip your thigh. "Totally devouring you." Throwing one leg over his shoulder, he sits up on his knees to once again bury his tongue deep between your folds. His other hand grips your other thigh as well as his hold turns bruisingly tight. Chains of profanity, mixed with the occasional, "You like that, baby?" and "Oh, I know, keep moaning like that for me," spill from his lips as he eats you out, just as hypnotised by how much he's turning you on as you are.

“Please… Don’t stop,” you moan, throwing your head back against the wall as your back arches.

“Mmm, you’re so pretty when I eat you out,” Steve coos, looking up at you and pressing gentle kisses to your clit.

You look down at him, running your fingers through his hair and smiling breathlessly. “You’re so pretty when you eat me out, too.” Though his mouth is obscured, you can see the smile in his eyes before he focuses his attention on lapping at your folds.

Just as you start to feel your orgasm building, he swings your leg back off of his shoulder with just as much ease and stands tall. You pout up at him, "Why did you stop there? It was just getting good!"

"Exactly," he purrs, kissing your lips sweetly. You keep him there by holding his jaw, knowing how much he loves having you taste yourself on him, kissing him over and over again as he moans more obscenities into your mouth. "You're so good to me, baby, but you're so bad for this. I may not be able to keep my hands off of you, but I've gotta teach you a lesson somehow." He presses another peck onto you. "Now, be a good girl and lay down on the bed, 'kay?"

You look up at him and nod, moving over to sprawl yourself out on his mattress. You hear the soft clunk of his belt hit the floor and turn your head to see he'd pulled down his pants and underwear in one fell swoop. Your favourite vein that protrudes along the bottom of his cock, the one you especially love to lick, strains against Steve's fingers as he fucks his fist at the sight of you. You can't help but frown in jealousy, and he merely smirks at you in response. "I know, baby, you don't want Daddy touching himself when you could be doing it for me, isn't that right?" You nod, reaching out, but he bats you away, instead positioning himself to line himself up with your pussy.

As he presses his length against your folds, you meal, "I love how hard you get for me."

"Yeah?" he smirks. "Almost as much as how I know you love this?" He teases your entrance with the tip of his cock and you keen against him, squirming your hips closer to him as he chuckles under his breath. "Oh, fuck, you want more, baby? You want me to slide my fat cock inside of this pretty little pussy?" You nod desperately and he grins. "Not enough, baby. Say please if you want this c-"

"Please, Daddy, I want your big, thick cock to stretch me out and fill me up, I wanna feel it so deep that your tip kisses my fucking cervix, please," you whine.

"Oh, fuck, yes, my good, smart girl knows exactly what to say, doesn't she?" he croons as he slides himself inside of you. Your eyes roll back with pleasure as he falls straight into a natural rhythm. "So good, so smart, picking out this set," he reaches up to stroke a thumb across what little support the bra gives. " And it comes with cuffs, too?" he asks, and you nod. "Oh, we'll definitely be using those once we're home. Fuck, baby, you'll have to show me where you got these, I'll buy you their whole fucking store if you look as good in everything else as you do this," he grunts as his hips snap against you, fucking himself deep inside of you. 

Your head lolls to one side but he holds your jaw in one big, strong hand to move it to look at him. "No, no, baby, look at me. That's it, pretty girl, want you looking me dead in the eye as I fuck you like this. Want you to see what you do to me as I get to watch you get fucked out of that pretty little head of yours," he groans out loudly. "Wanna watch every thought behind those eyes fade away as you get so fucking drunk on this dick that it's all you can think about. You want that, baby?" He doesn't even let you answer as he keeps murmuring, "Want you freshly fucked at the dinner table, barely able to hold a conversation because you're still entranced by even the thought of me filling you up again once it's all over. My sweet, dumb little trophy doll, all dressed up just how Daddy wants you so I can show you off."

Your mouth forms an O as your eyes glass over watching his pupils blow out as he fucks you. "Yes… Daddy, show me off, I'll do anything you tell me to," you squeak out, and he grins before bending down to kiss you again.

"I know you will, sweet thing, you're such a good toy," he moans. "Tell me how much you love getting fucked, baby."

You groan, "Please, god, never stop! You feel so good, so thick, I'm so full of you. Wanna just sit on your cock all the time, I feel so empty without you - God, please, let me come all over you, Daddy.”

“Are you close again, sweetie?” he coos, and you nod desperately. With a devious smile, he pulls out of you completely, tantalisingly slowly. As you stick your lower lip out in a pout, he presses down on it with his thumb, parting your lips slightly as he moves to straddle your chest. “Oh, no, no, don’t ruin that pretty face by making it all sad, baby,” he drawls. “You know what makes you feel better?” He leans up, holding his cock in his hand until he’s holding it just shy of your mouth. You whimper as you feel the tip graze against your lips and he smiles down at you.

You relax your jaw, letting it drop and your tongue loll out. Steve rocks forward just close enough to start smacking his cock against your tongue and you whine, furrowing your brow up at him. With a soft chuckle, he pushes his hips forward to slide his cock down your throat. He moans gutturally as he thrusts into you, and while you try to hollow your cheeks out at the right time and roll your tongue around his shaft, you soon give up as you realise all he wants to do is use your throat as a fleshlight. You relax your throat and simply moan around his cock as he fucks your face.

“That’s it,” he soothes, “good, smart girl knows what Daddy needs from her. Fuck, baby, I think you’ve earned the right to come with me. Get yourself up on your elbows, c’mon,” he moves back to reach back enough to start rubbing at your clit, but you frown. Noticing your hesitiation, he stops immediately, looking at you worriedly. “Is everything okay?” he asks, shuffling back to move his cock out of your mouth.

You nod, “Don’t worry, Daddy, ’m fine, I just… I really want you to come inside me,” you look up at him with pleading eyes and bite your lip.

A smile tugs at one side of his face. “Well, sure, baby, I’ll fill you up all night long, but -”

“Come ooonnn,” you drawl, running your fingertips up and down through his chest hair. “I know how much you love it when those other men you work with gawk at me. Grabbing my thigh when you see them looking at the hem of my skirt, whispering things in my ear whenever they’re staring at my neck so you can block their view… Imagine all of them looking and they don’t even know I’m only crossing my legs so that your cum doesn’t drip down my thigh.”

Steve groans, his eyes rolling back as he moves backwards. “Well, if that’s what my pretty girl wants…” He grabs your ankles and throws them forward so that your legs hang in the air, to which you hold them behind your knees. “You know,” he starts as he once again aligns the tip of his cock between your folds. “The boys at the office, they’d wanted me to go to dinner with them to talk about me being the face of all our international deals.” You pout again, partly from his teasing and partly at the thought of him leaving. “Hey, now, baby, you know I don’t like seeing you like this,” he reaches forward to cradle your face sweetly. “I wasn’t gonna do it. Didn’t wanna leave my perfect girl behind. But with you there, too, they can’t say no to you coming with me, can they? You wanna see the world from a private jet, baby?”

You nod, still looking doe-eyed at Steve. “I’ll be so good for you, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it, I’ll be such a good trophy wife.” The words come out before you can catch them, but Steve doesn’t seem upset by them. 

Instead, his face is full of intrigue, and then pleasure. “God, when I first met you, I wanted to give you nothing but the high life, all the wild adventures of travelling the world, but after we’re done with all that, all I wanna do is make you my perfect little housewife. You want that, baby? You wouldn’t even have to cook or clean, if you didn’t want to, we can get people in for that. Just wanna… Wife you up, breed you over and over an- fuck!” He groans loudly as he finally thrusts inside you. “Wanna - make a whole family with you - shit, wanna fucking - call you my wife and mean it, god, just wanna marry you.”

Unable to form any other cohesive thought, and revelling in the fact you’re finally about to cum, you let out a string of, “Yes, oh god, oh, yes, fuck, yes!” as you finally climax, feeling yourself clench around his cock as he paints your inner walls with his hot, thick cum.

He stays inside you for a while, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high, until eventually you realise something. “Was that… Technically a proposal?!”

Steve pulls a face, “Not exactly the one I planned, but…”

“Then it doesn’t count, yet,” you shrug simply.

“Yeah?” he asks with a soft laugh. “Pretty sure we basically both agreed to it.”

You hold your left hand up at him. “I don’t see a rock on here yet, so it doesn’t count.”

“That’s my smart girl, knows her worth,” he grins, bending down to kiss you. You stroke his beard as you embrace him. “Now, how’s about my pretty little wife finally wears the pretty little dress I bought her so I can tear it off her pretty little body later, hm?”

[amomentsescape]

A Kind Face

Norman Bates x Reader

Summary: After finding themselves in the middle of nowhere, Reader thinks it's a blessing to stumble upon a motel. And it only helps that behind the counter is a cute, selfless man.

Warnings: A couple of bad words

Word Count: 922

A/N: Do people still read/write for this man? I feel like I haven't seen many fics with him lately. Also I know that the GIF is from Bates Motel, but this could definitely be read with either character of Norman in mind (Psycho or Bates Motel).

It was too late for this.

Driving alone with a low tank of gas in the middle of the night wasn't exactly your smartest idea, and you certainly weren't about to see this through.

You desperately needed to find a place to stop, but it seemed like human life ceased to exist wherever you were currently.

So when you finally spotted a motel sign, you didn't even hesitate to pull over.

It appeared to be pretty empty however, and there was a moment where you worried that this place was desolate.

But it was worth a try.

And even if this area was abandoned, at least you had a little bit of shelter to figure out your next course of action.

You grabbed some of your things and stepped into the lobby, only to see that the lights were on. However, you didn't notice anyone up at the front desk.

You walked around a bit, surveying the area.

It was honestly well kept. Things were tidy, the floor and chairs were free of dust, and the air smelled a bit like fresh flowers.

"There could be worse places..." you murmured.

"I do my best."

You about jumped out of your skin.

You spun back around to the counter to see a man standing behind it, a friendly smile gracing his features.

"S-sorry!" you spat out. "The place is really nice. I just didn't see anyone outside and..."

He let out a soft laugh at this. "We don't get many customers here."

You nodded. "I mean, there isn't much out there. I haven't seen another car in miles."

You met his gaze and felt your face grow warm. The man before you had very gentle features, and something about his gaze made your chest flutter. He was cute.

"Um, is there a gas station nearby?" you asked.

His smile fell a bit. "Uh, no. Unfortunately the nearest one is a good eight miles or so from here."

You frowned. There was no way your car was going to make that journey. You had been riding with the gauge pointed at "E" for at least 10 minutes.

"And even then," he continued, "no gas station around here would be open this late."

Of course.

You decided to weigh your options. Continue driving on an empty tank until your car inevitably breaks down in the middle of nowhere or get a room in this motel run by a cute man? Easy choice.

"How much is it for one night?" you questioned.

He smiled again. "Free of charge for you."

Your eyes widened. "Oh no, I wouldn't feel right staying here without paying."

"No, please. I insist. I can take you to the gas station in the morning as well, since I'm assuming your car is low?"

You nodded. "If you insist, then sure. And thank you."

You both shared a smile at this, his face starting to grow a pink hue. He quickly broke his gaze and looked down.

"Oh, here."

Norman turned around and grabbed a key from the wall. You noticed that all of the keys were still hung up.

He handed it to you and you thanked him, seeing that the key had the big number 2 on its tag.

"Is there someone in room 1?" you asked.

His eyes glanced over to the key dangling on its hook behind him before turning back to meet your eyes.

"Uh, no. It's just... there's a leak unfortunately."

You nodded at him. "Well, I really appreciate this..."

"Norman," he answered.

"Thank you, Norman. I'm (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," he repeated back, his smile widening.

---

You honestly slept quite well that night. You were surprised to find the room perfectly clean when you went in, and seeing the sight of the large bed made you plop into it immediately. You went to sleep that night with Norman's sweet smile on your mind.

In the morning, you greeted the man at the counter, handing him the room key back.

"Thank you again," you spoke.

"No worries."

You grinned. "I'm just gonna go check on my car really quick."

He nodded in understanding as you exited the lobby, hoping that maybe your gas gauge was just a bit off last night.

But when you tried to start your car, the engine wouldn't even turn over. It was like the battery was completely dead.

"The hell?" you whispered to yourself.

"Is everything alright?"

You jumped a bit at the sound of Norman's voice, letting out a breath.

"M-my car, it won't start. I think there's something wrong with the battery?" your voice was laced with concern.

He sighed. "It's Saturday morning, so you won't be able to get a hold of a mechanic until Monday."

You groaned. You didn't know anything about cars and by the looks of it, Norman didn't either.

"You can stay here until then, if you want," he suggested. "It would be free of charge, of course."

You looked at him as you tried to make a decision. It was only a couple of days, and Norman seemed like a nice guy. It wasn't like you had much else of an option anyways.

"Sure, if that's okay with you."

"Of course!"

His voice was so pleasant.

There was no way you would have even suspected him of messing with your car in the middle of the night. Why would he? It wasn't like he was already enamored with you and desired to have you stay with him just a couple days longer.

Or more.

[lilacthebooklover]

3, 9, and 22 from this ask game

Of course! Thank you for participating! Here, have a piece of writing...

3) That encompasses my style (@acacia-may)

Hmm... My style's developed a lot over the years, and while I haven't had much time to write lately, I do think this little bit of Clamour from a couple months ago works pretty well! It's got the signature Lilac Anaphora, lots of flowery language, an abundance of commas and a little hint of enjambment as a metaphor for mental decline. (Sorry Acacia, I know you aren't in the fandom!! If you like, you can always submit another ask- 3 is just one that I struggled to think of something for :'])

His spiral down into insanity was not a quick process, nor was it without turmoil. It had been torturous, losing himself to the whispers inside of his brain, every thought overcome by that intoxicating need for more. His heart thrummed in his ears with each movement he made, fingers itching with the need to puppeteer once more, his head full of a throbbing, pulsating, incessant craving for control. Hiding it had been easy enough. His friends were long-since accustomed to his eccentricities, so when he began acting a little more oddly than usual, no-one batted an eye. He kept his lips sewn firmly shut and a toothy smile across his face, the chanting in his head growing louder and louder and louder with every lie he told. Maybe if he’d have been a little stronger, he’d have been able to overcome it. Maybe he would have told his friends. Maybe he would have been good enough to give up the power slowly killing him from the inside. Letting go was as inevitable as it was involuntary, in the end. As the floodgates burst, a rush of distorted euphoria like nothing before had sunk deep into his soul, a growing hunger beginning to fester within him. It grew and grew, and he took and took, and his friends fell with him as he watched , and he laughed and cackled because wasn’t it so ironic that anything heavenly or good be quashed in a place that couldn’t possibly hope to fathom it, and eventually, he had stopped caring about anything at all. The other Fallen Heroes mean nothing to him. His friends had died with him all those decades ago, only crude facsimiles of their former selves remaining. So here he is, the only performer left on a dusty set of cobwebs, and that hunger inside of him never stops. Something akin to loneliness aches alongside it, the lingering results of his isolation digging in deep and refusing to grant him even a moment of solace.

9) With characters I love

For this one, I think I'm going to have to go with an extract from Take A Bow- I'm hyperfixating hard on CRK at the moment lol. This was my first time writing both Pure Vanilla & Shadow Milk, and it was a lot of fun imagining how the story might progress before Theatre of Lies was released!!

Just as quickly as the darkness had arrived, a face shot out of the tree like a jack-in-the-box, sharp white teeth glinting down at them in a twisted, elated grin. A warped, reversed version of Pure Vanilla’s own symbol gleamed in the newfound turquoise light, his breath catching in his throat as he remembered all that Elder Faerie had told them. This must be the Beast who had originally possessed Pure Vanilla’s soul jam. The blonde found his hand subconsciously drifting to the crest on his own chest, gaze darting rapidly over every aspect of the uncaged monster’s face. “Ah!” A long, high exclamation pierced through the quiet, just as delighted as its voice’s owner. “Doesn’t this fresh air just feel… Divine?!” The last word ended in a growl, something manic heightening even further as the creature lazily surveyed its surroundings. Its unwavering stare passed over each of them in turn, finally settling on Pure Vanilla. Something in its glare sharpened, distorted cerulean light dancing along iridescent pools of insanity. “Oh, I see I have quite an audience here,” it remarked, its jauntiness seeming far too out of place amidst their own fearful grimaces. “I am so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.” The voice fluctuated between shrill shrieks and inhuman snarls, every word laced with venomous glee. Its head alone was larger than all of them combined, and Pure Vanilla was loath to imagine how excessive the casualties would be if they were to instigate another fight. “But now… The wait is over. Your favourite trickster is here,” it lowered its head in a flamboyant half-bow. Its value had become Deceit, Pure Vanilla recalled. Undeniable intelligence shone among clear madness, for this was a being born of knowledge and corrupted into lies. It was– “Shadow Milk Cookie.”

22) That is so blissfully self-indulgent

Here, have a snippet of an Owl House AU I came up with on a whim one night in which I threw Caleb Wittebane into the future and leapt over plot holes like they were hurdles on an obstacle course >:]

Caleb was going to die. There was a dagger in his brother’s hand, glinting with the dark promise of blood to be spilt and aimed directly at him, merciless and unwavering in its pursuit. Caleb’s breath caught in his chest as he stumbled backwards, heartbeat pounding in his ears with a new sort of rapidity. It used to be such a thrilling feeling: the quick yet predictable pounding against his ribs, excitement making his lips quirk or anticipation leaving them agape. It was the adrenaline that used to come with a hunt, the dread and uncertainty and wonder that brewed within him as he stepped through that portal, the butterflies fluttering in his stomach that only Evelyn could incur. Now, his heart threw itself desperately against the confines of its prison, nausea rising within Caleb’s throat and poison in his mind because he was about to die, to be killed at the hands of the person he loved more than anything. The person he had loved more than anything. The person he’d given up everything for. The person he’d raised since childhood. Ever since Caleb was young, Philip had been his biggest priority. Their parents passed when they were both young, Philip so much so that he could scarcely remember them. It fell to Caleb to raise his brother, working odd jobs so they could afford accommodations as they passed from town to town. In a world where no-one could be trusted and not a soul was on their side, it had been Caleb’s responsibility to keep his little sibling safe. To keep him alive, protected. To keep him well. Looking at the pure resentment in Philip’s glare, Caleb wondered how it had all gone so wrong. He knew, really, exactly the reason behind his brother’s murderous intent; it simply seemed impossible to associate his hopeful, smiling, playful Philip with the spite-fuelled monster before him. His head swam with memories long since tainted by acidic regret. There were so, so many ways he could have prevented this situation, eradicated even the possibility of Philip wishing harm upon him. So many things he could have done. So many things he didn’t do, and here he was now, paying the price. Caleb’s days were numbered, he’d always known that. His fate was sealed as soon as he first took Evelyn’s hand.

Thanks again for the asks! <3

[rcsewcrld]

Hiii, i saw your requests were open, is it okie to get a Rowan Laslow x Fem/afab reader where its a bit like Hurt/comfort how rowan would push away reader who is supposedly his longtime friend so he could continue trying to look for details in the nightshades library about wednesday or just him just being a bit cold to reader, then reader is befriended by Enid, Ajax and Kent or the more popular crowd and once he see reader drifting away from him he decides to apologize (feel free to decide the ending! no rush)

𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 | rowan laslow x f!reader | 1.5k words contents - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers rowan laslow x reader (platonic, can be viewed as romantic), enid sinclair+ajax petropolus+bianca barclay+xavier thorpe+yoko tanaka etc x reader (platonic)

tysm for requesting! it means a lot, i hope this isn't bad lol :)

"Rowan! Wait up!" y/n called to her friend. She'd been friends with him for ages, since they were little kids. However, recently, he'd been completely ignorant of her. Every time she talked to him he seemed to have something better to do, she barely saw him in the hallways. "y/n, I'm running late. Can this wait?" He turned around abruptly, stunning her into silence. There was a moment where she paused before responding hesitantly. "Oh, okay." She nodded. Rowan rushed off somewhere mysterious as y/n sighed. She surveyed her surroundings, hoping to find another one of her friends to hang out with. She'd just had her lunch and, due to Rowan's constant mysterious disappearances, she'd felt quite lonely recently.

"y/n! Over here!" The girl whipped around at the familiar voice of Xavier Thorpe. He'd noticed his roommate's strange, basket case of emotions as of late, making a mental note to check on y/n because he knew they were close. She smiled and made her way over to where he was sitting with the 'popular' group of Nevermore. They were all friendly with y/n, so she didn't feel uncomfortable. "Oh, hey y/n!" Ajax's bubbly voice welcomed her. She took a seat between Xavier and Ajax. "Are you okay? You look a little..." Bianca motioned to her own face, implying that y/n was adorning an expression of discomfort. She sighed, "Rowan's been so strange recently. Every time I ask him to hang out he's not free and he's always disappearing somewhere mysterious. Has he been in your dorm much, Xav?" She turned to her artistic friend.

The boy shook his head, "Not recently. He's been distant with me, too. I'm sure he's fine. There's no reason I can think of why he's acting like this." He smiled reassuringly.

y/n wasn't so sure.

-

"Rowan!" y/n didn't miss the obvious sigh that her best friend let out when he heard her voice calling his name. "What now?!" He exclaimed, louder than he intended. The girl took a step back, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out. We can watch Harry Potter like old times? Or we can just go prank Xavier... or something... I just feel like I haven't spoken to you in so long, you know? You're my best friend and I've missed you." "God, you really have no idea, do you?" Rowan groaned, his fingers moving to his temples in frustration. y/n huffed, "What?" "You're so fucking annoying. Don't you know how to give people space? God, you're insufferable. No I don't want to hang out with you, haven't you noticed?" The girl's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish before she rushed off, tears pricking at her eyes. How could he say something like that, she thought. In the process of running back to her dorm, head down in order to avoid eye contact with any passers-by, she bumped into someone. Typical, now she had to talk to someone.

"Woah, I'm sorry- Wait, y/n?" She looked up to see Enid Sinclair, a fellow member of Ophelia Hall and a good friend of hers. "Hi, Enid. Look, I've really gotta get going." She attempted to brush past her friend without any further conversation, but Enid had other ideas. "Are you alright?" Enid dipped her head down in an attempt to make eye contact with her friend. Eventually, after a moment of comfortable silence, y/n lifted her head and let a few tears slip down her cheeks. "Oh, honey, what happened?" "Rowan was- was really mean to me and it's not like him and he's been like this for days and I just miss how- how we used to be." y/n managed to blubber. Enid pulled her into a hug. "Wanna go back to my dorm? We were all gonna meet up there and hang out. We'd love to have you join us." Enid offered. y/n just nodded and let Enid guide her to herself and Wednesday's dorm by her shoulder. As the door creaked open, y/n was dreading the amount of questions she was bound to face from her friends. Ajax grinned upon Enid's arrival, "Hi, Enid! Oh- oh and y/n..." He trailed off, noticing the sniffling girl being shepherded by Enid.

"y/n? Are you okay? Let's sit you down and we can talk it out." Yoko patted the spot next to her on Enid's bed. All of her favourite people from Nevermore seemed to be there. Ajax, Xavier, Kent, Yoko, Bianca, and Divina were there. Along with Enid, of course. y/n sat herself next to Yoko and snuggled into her side. Kent started, "If you don't mind telling us, what happened?" "I tried to ask Rowan to hang out with me. Do some stuff we used to do like... watch Harry Potter and prank Xavier," She started with a slight smile at Xavier who offered a reassuring one back, "but then he- he shut me down. Said that I was 'insufferable' and that he didn't want to hang out with me." The group shared irritated looks. For the past couple of months... maybe even the last year, Rowan had become a ball of anger, a picture of nothing but frustration and self-pity. They'd noticed his poor treatment of y/n and Xavier had told them about his frequent disappearances and arguments with him. They often ended up with Xavier being thrown against a wall at the hands of Rowan's telekinesis. Bianca shifted in her seat at the end of Enid's bed, "I'm sure he'll notice how upset he's made you. You two are two peas in a pod, I'm sure you'll be back to normal in no time. It's only been a few weeks since your last little escapade together. I'm sure you'll be fine. Just ignore him for the time being." y/n glanced up at the siren, nodding.

"Now, who wants to forget about shitty friends and eat some ice cream?" Divina smirked, pulling a few tubs and spoons out of a cooler that y/n hadn't noticed earlier.

-

It was lunchtime of the next day, y/n was sitting with Kent, Ajax and Enid in the quad. Ajax snickered, "And then guess what he did, he literally-" He cut himself off, spotting a certain someone approaching. Kent, Enid and y/n looked up in confusion. "y/n. I'm finally free to hang out today, if you want to." Enid scoffed, "The audacity," she mumbled under her breath. Rowan furrowed his brows at the lack of response from his best friend. y/n turned her head away, the rest of the group glaring daggers his way. Rowan took that as his opportunity to turn and walk away. What've I done? Rowan thought. Oh shit. He remembered. God, he needed to apologise. He raced straight back to the group. "y/n, I need to talk to you." He begged. She sighed, getting up reluctantly and following him to a quiet corner in the corridors. "I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for how I've been acting for the past few weeks, I'm sorry for how I've treated you and I'm sorry for the words that I said to you yesterday. I really shouldn't have said that. You know I didn't mean it, right?" He blurted. "I know, I know. It's just hard, y'know. I've been friends with you for so long and to have you drift like that was so weird. And for you to say that, I'll be honest it really upset me. Why are you acting the way you are?" She interrogated.

"I've just found some new stuff and I've been figuring this thing out. You know how my mom was a powerful Seer? Well, before she died she showed me a drawing that she'd done and told me to get rid of the girl in it if she ever turned up at Nevermore. The girl was Wednesday, y/n. You can't tell anyone about this. I don't know much at the moment but I'm figuring it out. You can't get involved, either, you'll be in too much danger. Just keep your distance from Addams for now, I don't know if I trust her. Especially not if this drawing was done 20 years ago." He confessed. y/n was apprehensive, but pulled him down into a hug, nevertheless. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He squeezed her tight, before releasing her. "Never ever ignore me again, okay? Just tell me. You know that I wouldn't tell anyone. Anyway... wanna come hang out with the others? I know you've missed Xavier almost as much as you missed me." She giggled. Rowan rolled his eyes and followed her back into the Quad.

"All good?" Ajax gave Rowan a threatening once over as the pair took their seats. "All good." y/n nodded, smiling harder than she had in weeks.

"They better stay that way, Laslow." Enid threatened, forcing her claws to come out, playfully of course. Although, Rowan's eyes did widen slightly. "She doesn't mean it, dumbass." y/n laughed. Enid giggled back, "Or do I?"

a/n: thank you so much for reading! I hope that wasn't too shitty, I couldn't make it too long because I had no other ideas to put in and it's my first proper imagine, so... hope you enjoyed :))

[thriller-roads]

Shoplifting Leads to Romance

Rohan Kishibe x artist!reader

Fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: Rohan has trouble making sense of how he feels about you, and ends up upsetting you in the process. Don't worry though, he's trying his best. Basically Rohan makes you sad then realizes he was an asshole.

It’s true that Rohan Kishibe is a skilled manga artist. His artistic prowess is something he’s gifted with and has honed to near perfection. Something he’s not so great with though, is people.

As an artist yourself, you've always admired Rohan’s talent. His work was an inspiration to you, so how amazing was it that you were now acquainted with him, and also receiving an internship?

After approaching the eccentric man, he agreed to take you in as an intern. He only did so because you helped him out when he was accused of shoplifting at the Kame-Yu department store that one time. Since you worked there, you saw who the real culprit was, and vouched for Rohan’s innocence on the matter.

Rohan appreciated the fact that you gave him his space and didn’t demand anything of him, even after recognizing who he was. He also appreciated the compliments you gave him on his work. The level of detail you went into intrigued him, such as noting the improvement of his art style over the years, or the technique he uses to study a spider's anatomy.

The two of you soon became more than mere acquaintances, with you coming over often to admire his process. Rohan actually enjoyed the time you spent for a while, until it began to gnaw at his mind. Lately, he found himself getting too distracted by you. He was thinking too much about you, even when you were gone. He found the whole thing to be rather infuriating.

Rohan surveyed you from across the desk, eyes intent on watching you sketch. He should be looking down at your paper, but instead he found himself unable to look away from your face.

You momentarily glanced up at him, and that alone was enough to drive him insane. He quickly tried to cover up the fact he had been staring at you. "Quit looking at me and focus on the paper," he scolded, as if he hadn’t been doing the exact same thing. As long as you were unaware of that though, it didn’t matter.

Returning your eyes to the paper, you continued the sketch without a word. Rohan on the other hand, couldn’t seem to shut up. "Now Y/n, you must be quicker with the sketch. Don't spend too much time on it. You still haven't managed to cut down the sketch time since the last attempt, don’t forget that."

"Sorry Rohan sensei, I'm really trying to-"

"Well you're not trying hard enough!" He suddenly snapped. The pencil in your hand slowly came to a stop. Looking down at the figure on the paper, you realized you were pressing down so hard with the tip of your pencil that it had made a small perforation on the eye of the drawing.

You lifted the pencil to brush off bits of eraser. "Hey, my wrist is starting to hurt a bit. Maybe we should take a break, and I could just watch you for now?" You suggested, and awaited his response.

You, watch him? With you watching him, he'd fumble over his pen. He would make a mistake somewhere from being too distracted by your presence, he knew it. He could feel the heat on his cheeks begin to radiate just at the thought of it. Knowing your eyes would be on him, his mind would wander off to nothing but the thought of what your lips might feel like against his. No, this simply could not continue. He couldn’t allow himself to further slip into this predicament.

“No, that isn’t what you’re here to do right now. Now take your pencil and paper back up, and start again,” Rohan ordered, resetting the timer on his desk.

You rubbed at your wrist, trying your best to brush off any soreness in your arm. The grooves of the pencil were practically engraved into your palm by now as you started up again when Rohan exclaimed, “Begin!”

You went as fast as you could to get the basic shapes down, and then the details. It was coming along well enough, and you thought maybe this time you’d actually get to-

The sound of a timer went off, and Rohan slammed his hand down onto the table. “Time’s up! Did you finish?”

You scrambled to keep the papers from falling. “No, I-”

“Then I don’t wanna see it!” With that, Rohan reached over to take the sheet of paper from your grasp, ripping it to shreds. That wasn't something you expected, so you weren’t sure how to react as the pieces of paper sailed down to the surface of the desk. You knew he could be intense, but was this really necessary?

Rohan crossed his arms. “Y/n, you are here to improve your art skills. You're nothing but an amateur, and at this rate you'll never be on my level if you keep slacking off. If you’re just going to waste my time, I suggest you take your things and leave.”

Hearing this out of nowhere confused you even more. If ripping your paper wasn’t enough, his words made your guts drop to the floor. Were you really doing that badly? Perhaps Rohan just wanted to be left alone. You thought he had been enjoying the time you spent together, but you were beginning to doubt that now. Then again, he never asked for you to come by. It was you that insisted, thinking he'd be fine with it. Turns out that wasn't that case.

You stood from your seat, grabbing your bag as well. Your throat suddenly felt dry, but you still managed to say something. "Okay then. Goodbye for now, Rohan Kishibe." You didn't even mean for the words to come out so cold and bitter, but they did. Rohan noticed this too, and he didn't know how to feel about it as he watched you walk out the door.

Well, it had to be for the better that you left, right? No use in staying if you weren’t cut out for it.

Looking down at the scraps of torn paper, Rohan thought perhaps he went a bit overboard. Gathering each piece, he assorted them together like a puzzle. Once each piece was in the right place, he didn’t expect to see his own face looking back at him. Well, it wasn’t completely realistic nor intact, but it was very much meant to be him. Was this why you kept looking at him, for artistic reference?

Rohan rested a hand against his chin as his eyes traveled across the image. “Hmm, this is actually quite good…” Observing the drawing, the guilt hit him like a big freight train. If that Tamami fellow was around, he’s sure that lock stand of his would be very effective on him right about now.

Well, it doesn't matter now. The important thing is that Rohan could finally resume his work, unbothered at last. Placing his pen down on the paper, he began his usual process. As the drawing progressed however, he noticed the image on the paper was starting to look a lot like you. He brushed the thought aside. No, it just happened to look like you. He continued to rapidly scribble across the paper, and when he was finally finished, the results horrified him.

Who was he kidding, it was you. Down to nearly every last detail, it was you. Any mole on your skin, any curve of your face, any direction of the way your hair swept, it was all you. Well, there was absolutely no denying it now. Rohan had fallen madly in love with you. “Great, just what I need…” he grumbled out.

Groaning in frustration, he set his pen down and turned back to your torn up drawing. He needed a break. He gathered the pieces of paper into a neat pile before leaving the room.

After that day, he didn’t see you for a while. He called you a few times, but you didn't answer. It had only been a couple of days, but still. He never even managed to catch sight of you around Morioh by chance. Despite that, he’s sure he’d get to see you today; for today you have a shift at Kame-Yu department store.

Walking into the vast space, he navigated the aisles until he caught sight of you. There you were, stocking items onto the shelves. Rohan clutched his bag and took a deep breath before approaching you. “Hello, Y/n. It’s uh, been a while.” He internally cursed himself for being so nervous in front of you.

The sound of his voice startled you a bit. You weren’t expecting Rohan to be here. Regardless of his presence, you resumed to pile items onto the shelves. “Hello Rohan. Yes, it has been a while,” was all you said. There was no warm smile like you usually gave him whenever you greeted him, nor a nod of recognition. Heck, you barely even looked at him, much to Rohan’s despair.

The main reason you were so upset over it was because Rohan’s opinion meant so much to you. You wanted his validation, his approval. Getting the exact opposite wasn’t exactly the motivation you were looking for. If anything, it made you want to take a break from art altogether. You knew it was stupid to care so much about what he thinks, but that’s romance for you. Utterly stupid.

Seeing as you made no further attempt to interact with him, Rohan struggled with what he should say next. “So…how’s that painting coming along?”

You knew the painting he spoke of. You had shown it to him about a week ago, before the last time you spoke. That same painting remained untouched on its easel, with not a single stroke of paint added onto it since then. “I haven’t really worked on it,” you responded, your attention still not fully on him.

“Why not?” Rohan knew why, but still asked nonetheless.

“I guess I kinda lost my motivation.” At last, you turned to properly face him. This actually made it all the worse for Rohan, because your dull expression pained him. “I am just an amateur who’ll never be on your level after all.”

The words he spoke to you days before flooded over him like a tsunami. He was a prisoner to his guilt, and he needed you to set him free. In order to gain this freedom though, he’d have to do something he rarely ever did.

“Y/n, I think some apologies are in order. My actions and what I said the other day...It was too harsh. I honestly do think you’re a talented artist. I just said all that because I wanted you to leave. You weren’t the one getting distracted, I was. All because you couldn’t leave my mind…and I just wanted that irritating feeling to go away!” he spoke the last bit in a frustrating tone.

Your unmoving face told him you were confused, so he elaborated. “But now I see that what I was feeling was attraction, and I should just accept it rather than push it away even if it bugs me.”

Although his explanation helped a bit, you were still unsure of what he was getting at. “What?” You questioned stupidly.

“Damnit Y/n, I like you!” He finally admitted, and it was then he took note of just how fast his heart was racing. If this was love, he detested the feeling. Why did it have to be so damn nerve-wracking? Rohan tried his best to disregard all of this. The only thing that mattered now was your response.

“Oh. Really? Well…I like you too,” your voice snapped him out of his worry.

Rohan was in a state of disbelief at first. “You do? Well, of course you do!” Rohan played off his relief with a shaky laugh and smirk. His smirk soon faded though, remembering he still had something to be sorry for. “And again, I apologize for my behavior. Your drawing, I truly am flattered by it. You have commendable talent. It’s very good.”

“Was very good,” you corrected, crossing your arms to emphasize you were still upset, regardless of the feelings you admitted for each other. At this, Rohan shuffled around in his bag, pulling something out and holding it up for you to see. You were a bit surprised to see it was the drawing you thought was ruined. It looked as good as new, no tape or glue anywhere in sight.

“But how…Is that really the one I made?” you asked, reaching out to take it from him.

“Yes, it is. I asked that punk Josuke to fix it with his stand.” Rohan very much disliked dealing with that boy, but he did it for you. He had to. “I hope you do forgive me, Y/n.”

You gave him a small smile in return. “I’m glad you apologized. I thought maybe I was just being too sensitive about the issue...” You mentally scolded yourself for not handling Rohan’s criticism well that day. The man was just doing his job after all, and you should’ve known what you’d be getting into when seeking his guidance.

Rohan looked away in shame upon recalling his behavior that day. He then walked over closer to you, clearing his throat. “No, you had every right to be upset. Even if it was criticism, there are better ways I could’ve handled it. So don’t go thinking you had any fault in the matter, understood?" He narrowed his eyes down at you.

"Yeah," you smiled, now relieved. His emerald eyes made you weak for a moment, but you felt more at ease now that everything was out and dealt with in the open.

In a similar way, Rohan felt his eyes soften when you looked at him the way you did. He wanted to experience more of that.

"If you’d like to come by my studio after your shift today, I’d gladly welcome you," he offered.

“Well then I gladly accept your invitation.” With that, you grabbed ahold of his collar to pull him down for a kiss. Rohan barely had any time to process it. All he knew was that he felt you put an arm around his waist, and that he finally got to know what your lips felt like against his. It was you who opened the door to this heavenly feeling, and it was wonderful.

Pulling away, you couldn’t stop grinning at the dumbstruck expression on the manga artist’s face. You felt like getting a pencil and paper out right then and there to capture the moment forever. Scratch that, pencil wouldn’t be enough, you’d need rouge watercolor to capture the color on his cheeks. Even when Rohan tried to compose himself and clear his throat, the heat on his face didn’t go away.

Rolling up the sheet of paper in your hand, you lightly hit Rohan on the head with it. “You can keep this at your place for now. I can’t exactly take it with me right now during work hours. But careful, don’t rip it again, or I’ll be sure to rip out your vital organs in return,” you joked. The fact that you threatened him with the sweetest smile made it all the more intimidating.

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem," Rohan said with a nervous laugh. "Well, I suppose I’ll be seeing you later. Until then, Y/n.” He quickly walked away, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle before resuming your work.

As he exited the store, Rohan felt like screaming out to the heavens. Once he was far enough away from people, he let out an almost maniacal laugh as he slumped against a wall. Wow, that really happened! He thought he'd only ever get to kiss you in his fantasies, or if he commanded you to do so with Heaven’s Door. But it did happen, and he was looking forward to doing it again and again.

After his little fit of giddy laughter, Rohan noticed a small box falling out of his bag. Picking it up, he realized it was a box of tea assortments, one of his favorites in fact. Where did that come from? The price tag on it told him it was from the department store. He didn’t even pay for it though, so how did-

Oh. Rohan recalled that you were stocking tea boxes onto the shelves. You must’ve sneaked a box into his bag when you were kissing him. The irony of it all made him smile. The great Rohan Kishibe would be wrongfully accused of shoplifting, yet again. One thing he did steal from that place though, was your heart.

Realizing how cheesy that line was, Rohan nearly threw up on his way home.

[suddencolds]

Loose Ends | Genshin Impact

Happy (late now, I'm sorry!) birthday, @caughtintherain!! I hope it was a good one! :) ❤️

I am hopelessly behind on archon quests (I haven't officially met Kaveh or exchanged more than a few sentences with Al-Haitham) and Genshin as a whole; hence, I feel super unqualified to be writing this. (The last time I wrote anything for Genshin was over a year ago—how time flies!)

That said, please take this Kavetham / Haikaveh fic ft. sick Kaveh—it was fun to try my hand at writing new characters after so long; I hope this is okay!

—

It is only, as far as Kaveh is concerned, a mild cold.

It starts off with a slight twinge in his throat, a rasp to his voice, a headache that a daytime nap can’t shake off. Small annoyances, but nothing more than an inconvenience—the slight hoarseness to his voice is barely noticeable after he clears his throat, and the good thing about the headache and the sore throat are that they don’t show, which means that while he takes extra care to keep his distance with clients, he looks no less presentable than usual.

It’s not exactly his intention to push himself, but he doesn’t go out of his way to take things easy, either. He has plenty of things to worry about already—a meeting with a client to go over a second round of design proposals, and before that, several new alternative proposals to sketch out, in light of the client’s feedback on his initial sketches. Then there’s the delivery of materials to worry about for a different project—he needs to go through the materials to make sure that they line up with the load-bearing calculations he’s done and then, in the following few days, supervise the construction of its most basic foundations. Everything—the delivery, the work he’s paid for in construction, the meetings he’s added to his calendar—is on a tight schedule, and Kaveh has no intention of going back on his promises.

It’s for that reason that he stays up a couple nights in a row finishing the sketches. Kaveh is nothing if not thorough—he considers both aesthetic presentation and practicality in tandem, makes small adjustments to the building at hand, from its most basic foundations to its exterior qualities—sloping roofs and high, curved windows, its circular stairwells and wide, elegant columns. He thinks, too, on how to present his work—his client had said that the first round of designs had seemed too extravagant and asked for something more subtle and understated, but Kaveh believes that even buildings which appear unremarkable can be thoughtful and elegant in their subtleties. The challenge is just in the execution.

And it’s for that reason that he ignores the harsh, grating cough that develops, the headache which only seems to worsen, the exhaustion that he can’t quite seem to shake—then again, is that not just to be expected, when it’s been days since he’s had a proper night’s rest? He’d certainly had his fair share of late night work at the Academiya, back when he’d frequently stay up late to help other students with their work—a little tiredness isn’t anything he’s not accustomed to.

On the third day, when he wakes up congested and shivering, when every subsequent sneeze scrapes at his throat, when he finds himself dizzy and too-hot in such a manner that suggests he might be running a fever, he waves off all of these things, gathers his latest sketches, and heads out into town just before dawn for the meeting.

It goes well enough—he can tell his client takes well to the new sketches for the way she surveys his designs, her eyes bright, and asks him about the feasibility of several new features. The new adjustments will be more work—more work with a quick turnaround, if he intends to keep everything up to their initial schedule—but that doesn’t bother him. If anything, he takes a little pride in the fact that the sketch she’s picked out is one that she is interested enough in to consider adding to it.

Their back and forth takes longer than planned, and by the time he leaves, his voice is slightly hoarse from overuse, his throat so sore that just speaking is enough to make him cough. His client wishes him well—actually, she tells him to get some rest, and to take his time on his next round of drafts, but also taking into account the work he has with supervising construction, he really ought to hurry things up to keep both projects coming along.

When Kaveh finally steps out from the building, it’s raining hard.

Of course today, of all days, he doesn’t have an umbrella on him. Just his luck. Al-Haitham will laugh him into his grave. But he can’t exactly wait out the rain, even if he wishes to—he has lots to do, preferably in the quiet space of his own study, and there’s no guarantee that this inclement weather will let up anytime soon.

So Kaveh does all he can, in this situation—he makes sure his manuscripts are all securely locked up in his briefcase. Then he books it. 

It’s not a long run, but it’s raining hard enough that by the time he arrives before the front door, his clothes are soaked. He wrings the rainwater out of his cape, sets his briefcase down gingerly, and reaches for his keys.

The house—Al-Haitham’s house, technically, though Kaveh doesn’t like to refer to it as such—is very quiet when he steps inside. The lights are off in the central living room, and as far as he can see, there’s no one in the kitchen, or Al-Haitham’s bedroom, or the study. Probably Al-Haitham is out, still, finishing up the day’s work.

Kaveh gets changed.

It’s a good thing, he thinks, that Al-Haitham isn’t home to see how he’s shivering so hard that it takes longer than usual to loosen his cape, to unclasp his belt, to pull his shirt over his head. It’s a good thing that Al-Haitham isn’t home to hear the loud—terribly loud—sneezes that tear through him (too loud, he thinks, to be neatly contained within the four walls of his bedroom), nor the harsh, fitful coughs that he’s been muffling into his elbow all morning. if he were, surely Kaveh would never hear the end of it.

It’s a small consolation that his sketches are dry, at least—safely locked up inside his briefcase, which at least offers the most basic protection against the elements. The new, dry clothes he picks out are a relief, too, once he changes into them. But his hair is still wet, and even though he’s changed, he finds he can’t stop shivering.

He really is a mess, he thinks.

But no one has to know. Not his clients, nor the agencies he’s worked with, nor his mentors and his peers from the Academiya, and certainly not Al-Haitham, so long as Kaveh resolves to stay out of his way. If he can produce a sketch of the building’s layout which exceeds his client’s layout expectations, his situation is irrelevant; the head cold he feels brewing is entirely inconsequential.

So he takes a seat at his desk, reviews his notes from today’s meeting, and gets to work.

—

The next few hours are less than optimal. More than once, he finds himself on the verge of dozing off, snaps awake from the pencil in his hand arcing from a steady, intentional line to a shaky tangent. Eventually, he resigns himself to keeping his head propped up on one hand as he works, if only to keep himself awake.

His head hurts fiercely. There’s a small part of him—a part which he diligently elects to ignore—which tells him that it’d probably go away much faster if he’d allowed himself some proper rest. He can rest when he’s finished, he tells himself, but judging by his current progress, that won’t be anytime soon. 

He’s so focused on his work—or, rather, so distracted by the headache, with the chills he can’t quite seem to shake—that he barely hears the front door open.

Barely, which is to say, he notices it still. Al-Haitham had advised him last night to get some rest—a thoughtful enough remark taken alone, if only it were not immediately followed with something along the lines of, It is in my own best interest if you don’t keep me up all night coughing. As if his noise-canceling headphones would not be a suitable—convenient, even—solution to that.

Just for that, Kaveh resolves to keep quiet, now. Just for that, he stifles each subsequent sneeze, muffles every ensuing cough as quietly as possible into his arm. If Al-Haitham has any complaints for all the noise he’s making, at least he can say he’d attempted to be quiet.

Barely half an hour goes by before he hears the knock on his door.

Kaveh clears his throat. “Come in,” he says. 

Al-Haitham does—he steps fully inside and shuts the door behind him. “Kaveh,” he says.

Kaveh sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess. I’m being too loud,” he says.

“I can’t help it if I— if I have to— hEHh-!” Ironically, he feels the all-too-familiar prickle settle in his nose. He’s felt it enough times over the past few days to know exactly what it precedes. “Hheh…. HEhH’eEZSCHhhEW!” It’s already humiliating enough to have to be doing this while Al-Haitham is watching. It’s with an awful sense of certainty that he realizes that he isn’t done. “hHEH… hh-HhH-hEHh’iSSCHH-YuE!”

It’s a relief, really, to let out a sneeze properly after he’s stifled so many, though it’s loud, especially in the enclosed space of his room. Kaveh sniffles, rubs his nose on the back of his hand. “Believe me,” he says, clearing his throat, though he thinks his voice doesn’t sound any less hoarse when he speaks up again, “I don’t want this cold any more than you do.”

“You sound awful,” Al-Haitham says, as if he’s merely stating a fact.

“You wouldn’t sound any better if you spent all morning talking to clients,” Kaveh says, with a huff, which—to his great dismay—turns into an untimely fit of coughs. 

“I distinctly recall telling you to get some rest,” Al-Haitham says.

“And I remember telling you it was none of your business when I sleep,” Kaveh says. “I can— hHEHh-!” he turns away—from Al-Haitham, from the desk with all of his papers—to catch a “hH-hhEH-HEh’IISSCHh-yUe!” in one cupped hand. He sniffles again, rubbing his nose, and levels as convincing of a glare as he can muster. “I can take care of myself.”

Al-Haitham frowns, seemlingly unbothered by Kaveh’s… well, rather unsubtle display. “If that was true, you’d already be on the mend by now.”

“It’s only a cold, Al-Haitham,” Kaveh says, with a sniffle. “I just have to let it run its course.”

“That sort of negligent attitude is what landed you in this very position in the first place.”

Kaveh’s head hurts. Whatever reasoning Al-Haitham has for why he’s caught this cold, he doesn’t want to hear it. He needs to finish up his sketches, needs to perform the necessary calculations to ensure the foundations he’s drawn are spatially optimized and will take well to any structural or environmental pressure. “Is that all?”

“No,” Al-Haitham says.

Kaveh shuts his eyes, braces himself for an earful. But whatever Al-Haitham is planning to say, he doesn’t get to hear it before he’s veering away again, sharply, burying his nose into his elbow just in time for—

“hhH… hEHh- hHEh’EZSCHhh’ew! HHEH’iIKSHhhEW! Excuse mbe… hh… HEHH’DZSCHh-iEEw!” 

He emerges, slightly teary-eyed, disoriented and blinking, which is why he doesn’t have time to intercept the hand that Al-Haitham presses to his forehead.

It is there only for a moment. Al-Haitham’s hand is surprisingly warm—it’s soft, a little calloused.

Then it’s gone. It takes Kaveh a few moments to parse the feeling in his chest as disappointment.

“You’d better keep your distance,” he says. “If you come down with this in a few days, I want it on the record that I wasn’t the one who told you to step foot inside my room.”

He expects a snappy response, as usual—sometimes, he thinks Al-Haitham has made a hobby solely out of being disagreeable. But Al-Haitham only frowns, watching him with such scrutiny that Kaveh wants to shrink away under it, knowing that Al-Haitham—now, as always—sees him so clearly. “Have you taken anything for your headache?”

It’s not a question he expects. Kaveh must not do a good job at keeping the surprise off his face. “What?” 

“Nothing yet, then,” Al-Haitham says, interpreting his hesitation as a proper response (which is infuriating, Kaveh thinks—he hasn’t even said anything). “How about for your fever?”

“I don’t—”

“If you are going to attempt to deny it,” Al-Haitham says, “You’d have much better luck with something that I haven’t just verified for myself.”

Kaveh rolls his eyes, sniffling. “You wouldn’t have believed me regardless.”

“Probably not.”

At least they agree on that.

Al-Haitham steps behind him, reaches over the desk to snag the papers he’s laid out over it—sketches, meeting notes, architectural blueprints, scratch paper. In one swift motion, he gathers the papers and lifts them out of reach.

“Haitham,” Kaveh hisses, scrambling to his feet. “Those are for a client.”

“I will give them back to you once you’ve recovered fully,” Al-Haitham says, turning on his heels to head for the door. “Subject to my discretion.”

“You can’t just take them! I… n-need…  hEHh… them for… hehH… my… hH-HheHH-hHEH’TZSCHh’YYUE! snf-!”

“Bless you. If you lay down, I’ll consider giving them back sooner.”

Al-Haitham is truly insufferable. Kaveh is truly, never forgiving him, (though later, when Al-Haitham comes back carrying steaming hot tea, which he says has medicinal properties that should help with headaches—procured helpfully from Tighnari, which is why he was out later than usual; later, when Kaveh wakes to a hand on his forehead, a familiar voice uncharacteristically soft, an extra blanket tucked neatly around him; Kaveh finds himself nearly convinced).

[an-aroaces-harem]

Ivy Chapter 10 Normal Attire Story

DISCLAIMER: I just deepl and google translated my way through this because I wanted to know what’s going on, so there are definitely mistakes but I believe I managed the general gist of the story. Anyway, it’s just a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes. Morganatic Idol belongs to Cybird and ABC Frontier, Inc.

Staff: Your companion is waiting for you. Come this way.

Rina: Y-yes ...

Suddenly being invited to a high-class member-only restaurant that I thought I had no connection to, my confusion and nervousness only increased.

I was ushered into a luxurious lobby, where I was greeted by ...

Ivy: Hey, thanks for coming.

Rina: Ivy-san!

Yes, his name was on that invitation card.

Ivy: I didn't expect to see you on work.

Ivy: I'm sorry I was so curt earlier. It was a secret about you ...

Rina: No, that's okay.

(I'm glad you cared ...)

The feeling of depression is quickly becoming lighter.

Ivy: Did I bother you by calling on you so suddenly?

Rina: No, you didn't. But what's going on?

Ivy: I haven't thanked you properly for helping me with the preliminar survey yet, have I?

Ivy: I finished work early today and thought I'd treat you to a nice meal.

Rina: Thank you so much ...!

Rina: You smiled and said thank you. That was enough for me.

Ivy: I'm not comfortable with that ... Besides that ...

Rina: Eh?

Ivy: Oh, no ...! Look, we haven't been talking much lately.

Rina: That's ...

(I'm sure Ivy-san noticed that I was avoiding him.)

It's been a long time since the two of us have met in private like this.

I feel awkward, but Ivy-san is giving me the same kind smile as before.

(Besides, it's nice of him to care about me like this.)

(But I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable eating at such an upscale restaurant, but it might be a good opportunity to get back on track ...)

Rina: Thank you so much, Ivy-san. I appreciate your words.

Ivy: I'm glad you said that.

Ivy: Then let's go to our seats.

Rina: Y-yes ...

He was smiling as he escorted me, and the two of us headed down the hall.

The staff let us through to a seat in the back.

(The halls are so incredibly gorgeous ...)

Rina: I was wondering if it was all right for me to dress like this? I thought high-class restaurants had a dress code or something ...

Ivy: It's a members-only establishment, and only customers whose identities are guaranteed are allowed in. Don't worry so much about it.

Rina: I-I understand.

Ivy: I like that I can spend time here. The food is authentic French and delicious.

Ivy: I think it's good that you can order à la carte. When I'm on a restricted diet, a course is too much for me.

Rina: I see ...

Unlike me, who was a little self-conscious, Ivy-san was very confident.

(As expected. You're used to this kind of place ...)

Staff: Excuse me. Would you like to drink before your meal?

A staff member calls out to me, and I'm startled.

(W-what should I do? What should I ask for ...!?)

Ivy: Kawanaga-san, can you drink?

Rina: Uh ... yes, if only a little.

Ivy: I'm thinking of a champagne cocktail. Any suggestions?

Staff: We have our original cocktails made with white grape juice.

Rina: Sounds delicious.

Ivy: That's for her. I'll have the Grand Cru champagne, please.

Staff: Understood.

Ivy-san seemed accustomed to this and smartly placed the order.

(You noticed that I was in trouble just now. You're so kind ...)

Raising the glass that was brought to him, he smiles.

Ivy: Thank you for your hard work and especially for your preliminary investigation.

Rina: No, I don't ...

The cocktail is filled with bubbles and a mellow aroma that elicits a small sigh from me.

Rina: Very tasty.

Ivy: Yeah? Good.

While drinking champagne, Ivy-san opens the menu.

Ivy: I'll go à la carte. What do you like, Kawanaga-san? Is there anything you can't eat?

Rina: Not particulary ...

Rina: ... I'm sorry. I'm actually not sure. I've never been to such an authentic restaurant before ...

(It's a little embarrassing ... but there's no point in being pretentious.)

I thought he was going to be taken aback, but Ivy-san smiled happily.

Ivy: Then why don't you order something I reccommend?

Rina: I'd love to. I'm sure Ivy-san will reccommend something good.

Ivy: Okay. I'll take care of it.

Ivy: The fish dishes here are delicious. How about some red sea bream boil as a main course? Let's go with that as an appetizer ...

... in this way, Ivy-san took care of me, even though I was unfamiliar with it, and thought me how to do various things step by step.

This allowed me to enjoy my time at the upscale restaurant without feeling self-conscious.

Rina: It's a really nice place.

Ivy: Good. I'm glad you like my favourite restaurant, too.

Rina: Yes. It's my first time in a place like this ... I'd have liked to have come here wearing the clothes that Ivy-san bought me the other day.

Ivy: Then next time, let's go out for dinner together in those clothes.

Rina: Oh, that's ...

Ivy-san smirks at me as if it is a good idea.

Ivy: I'll find you a nice place.

Rina: ... Yes. I'm looking forward to it.

Ivy: Ah, me too.

(That means you'll go out with me again.)

(I know I'm being treated like a sister, but ... I'm really happy about it.)

Delicious food like I've never had before and great drinks.

There is Ivy-san in front of me with a soft smile on his face, looking at me.

(... my heart is pounding.)

(It's like a dream. I hope this time never ends ...)

I was thinking that as I felt the heat, not the drunkenness of alcohol, on my cheeks.

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Are there other Theon ships you like?

EDIT: I am sorry for this lateness anon. I thought I had posted this back in September (around the time I was getting survey related asks) shortly after it was sent but I just found it on the queue while searching for something else. Sorry. It was very sweet of you to ask so I feel abad about not realising I didn't post it any sooner.

I have weird feelings regarding ships in this fandom so most of the time with "ship" I just mean "I want to see them interact in emotionally intense situations of conflict, affection and resentment" but here are the ones I could think of in which some sort of romance/attraction/affection is part of my preferred dynamic.

Theon/Jeyne (already explained it here. Basically it's just that I am really into circumstantial affection, codependency and the themes of accountability for past misdeeds and irredeemability vs redemption. I like it at best when it's not outright shippy but ambiguous and open to interpretation. I always recommend Girl On Ice (and I won't stop now) but also I honestly feel that Little Brother, although the focus is truly on Asha and her anxiety over her entire situation in the end of ADWD, has probably my favourite post-adwd dynamic for them and it's even more ambiguous in a very tongue-in-cheek manner that I appreciate.)

Jon/Theon (Similar feelings about circumstantial affection but without the same themes. Like the idea of the two unwelcomed somewhat unwilling members of Winterfell being some of the last remainings of it. Also prefer it as something ambiguous and open to interpretation but with slightly more antagonistic feelings between the two. I like Jon but he'll be ultimately relieved to know Theon actually just killed the Miller's boys and that is not necessarily a good thing for me (although I understand and won't blame him for that possible reaction). I admit to being picky because I disagree with some popular takes about Theon having bullied Jon or them hating each other and I also am very strongly against Stark romanticism which often appears in fics focused on them.)

Theon/Barbrey (Everyone thinks I said this as a joke but I actually mean it. Their conversation during the Turncloak chapter made me cry like a child when I first read it and I haven't been the same person ever since. It completely rewired the way I perceive things. I like relationships that grow not out of love but hatred and feelings of mutual hurt originating from similar issues. I like the idea that she might at some point be the one to fully take the Stark goggles off him. Also prefer it as ambiguous rather than straight up romantic. This is one of my favourite fics ever and it sometimes makes me cry. Canon divergent ADWD where she takes him away from Ramsay and Roose (also "Arya" gets saved anyway, don't worry))

Theon/Kyra (Prefer it as horror from Kyra's side but mixed with the possible former feelings of teenage love they might have had. They seemed emotionally close and I can imagine she might have felt more for him than he ever did for her. That's interesting for me given what happens later on during ACOK and that she still tries to save him from the Dreadfort. I like the idea that when he kissed her on the other side of the river she could only feel fear and indignation)

Theon/Patrek (one of the more wholesome ones here and to be honest it only started really interesting me once Patrek was used as a leverage against his father and they literally tied a noose around his neck. I like it a lot more than I express. I like to think that the anger Patrek might have felt towards Theon at that point was somewhat mitigated or that it will be mitigated now that he has been on a similar position. Preferred daydreams involve small one-night reunions when Theon finally gets to go to the Islands and has to stop at Seaguard where Patrek is. Strange type of meetings between people who were very happy and close during a brief time that was violently and abruptly cut get to reminiscence about a past they feel conflicted about. I like to think their relationship would be re-contextualised given Patrek has been used against his father now).

Theon/Baelor (Absolutely no canon foundation which is weird given I am who I am but I have such a desire for a gap filler where the two get to interact during Theon's time in ACOK and Theon is able to see this somewhat well-adjusted version of himself that has even turned into a figure of influence and just feels completely irritated and hateful by the situation.)

Theon/Falia (Been ruminating on this for a long time now and she could embody aspects of the Kyra to his Theon and he the Euron to her Falia so yes enjoy it a lot. Although I've only seen it written once and it was in a post-ados ambiguously hopeful fic. Really liked it. It was very sweet. However on a long term not I'd really like her becoming a strange type of second chance for what he had with Kyra and him a second chance for what she had with Euron. Horny on main ironborn comes to take the castle of the feudal lord whose lands you live in and takes you, a lowborn woman who seems rather willing, to live there for a while and sleep in the bed of said feudal lord. Things change suddenly and you find yourself physically and sexually abused by someone you trusted.)

Sexual relationships I do not ship but read anyway because of interesting dynamics

Theon/Ramsay (It has to be fully non-consensual, full horror and as canon-compliant as possible. If I see Theon referring to him as "master" I am out. Also I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that erotically written stuff triggers me so it's difficult. Implicit rape/non-con mixed with the horrors of depersonalisation and contradicting feelings about whether he deserves any of what happened to him or not are very welcomed though!)

Theon/Cersei (Talked about it here. People take it as comedic and I see why and it makes me laugh but it only caught my attention once I started thinking more seriously about it and I weirdly enough I can somewhat enjoy it as long as the characterisation isn't purely hedonistic-cringe-fail-milf-hunter. Something I think could be interesting is if the marriage were to take place after Theon had spent a significative amount of time at the Dreadfort but hadn't gone through a drastic change in appearance and thus was not visibly weakened and hurt. Anyway, go read Broken Cage! The Cersei POV voice is perfect.)

Open but not fully into it

Theon/Tris (theoretically I think I'd like it and it fits into themes I enjoy. Both of them at some point pursue(d) Asha due to misreading who she really is and are questioned in regards to whether they truly fit to Ironborn culture (they do!) by the same woman who looks down on them a little. So yeah could be cool! but until now what I've perceived of it is basically "Theon gets a wholesome boyfriend who is kind of wholesome in canon too and isn't romanticised by fandom so he doesn't fell ooc!" and that's very nice and makes me happy for him but it's not very interesting to me.)

Theon/Jory (There was this really good fanfic back in 2017 Russian fanfic website and it has sadly been lost to humanity but it was good.)

Theon/Brienne (Irl friend proposed it as a joke but pre-ramsay he fits her type as snarky, fashionable, mockish young man and it could be interesting because he would be a tremendous asshole and would probably emotionally scar her. That's all I have to say.)

Theon/Meera (Quite surprised at how no one has developed anything complex based on his not very-pure-thoughts back in ACOK and their connection to Bran. Could be interesting.)

[hatterswonder]

(OUAT spoilers!) If season 7 Henry and Jefferson reunited

*It's night out. The moon is shining down on the pavement. Henry is in his car, driving down the side of the road after having coco at Granny's with his family.* *He's driving, until he sees a figure up ahead illuminated in the headlights-- he swerves, nearly hitting the silhouette as it jumps out of the way.* *Henry exits the car, rushing to the stranger.* Henry: O-Oh my god, I'm so sor- *He pauses, surveying who he almost hit-- It was Jefferson, the mad hatter. He hadn't seen him since he was ten, convincing him to visit his daughter after however many years.* *He groans softly, opening his eyes as he cautiously sat up. He squints.* Jefferson: ...Hen- Henry? Henry: Little bit late for a walk, isn't it? Jefferson: I'm usually alone out here...for the most part. *Henry helps Jefferson to his feet.* Henry: I'm...so sorry. I haven't seen you in 20 some odd years, and-- Jefferson: No, Henry, it's alright...believe it or not, this isn't the first time this has happened. *He'd lightly chuckle, dusting off his lap.* Henry: ...Jefferson, how have you been? Jefferson: ...Henry, thank you. Henry: For what? I just ran you over with my car almost. Jefferson: ...Without you, who knows where I'd be. Henry: *ducks head and chuckles.* No, no, it was all you. I just had to convince you a bit. Jefferson: *laughs softly* Nonsense. How old are you now, kid? You sure as hell got a lot taller since last time I saw you. Henry: *smiles warmly* I'm 30. Sure do feel a lot older, too. *He'd exaggerate his 'back pain' jokingly, causing Jefferson to chuckle.* Jefferson: ...You know, I read it. Good stuff in there. Henry: Read what? Jefferson: Your latest work of fiction. Henry: You actually read it? Jefferson: New favorite book. Henry: Aw, stop it. *He'd softly laugh* Jefferson: ..Ah, well, it's late. You should get home. Say hi to your mother for me, 'kay? Henry: ...I got it. *he'd smile.* Jefferson: ...I'll see you soon, kid. *He'd ruffle Henry's hair, a light smile playing on his lips.* Henry: *Chuckles* ...See you soon, Hatter.

[wraenata]

Hello again!

I did this lil silly survey a long while ago :)

I wanted to ask if you would mind to answer a few of my questions again :3

If not, that's totally fine! No pressure!

How many hours do you sleep per night?

How many hours are enough to get through the day and how many are a lot for your standard?

Is caffein (in any form) part of your morning routine or your 'last resort'?

How do you feel over the day before and after consuming caffein (if you consume any)?

For example: sluggish, foggy, awake, exhausted, grumpy, just tired, etc.

Thank you a lot for (maybe) participating!

If you want, I can add you when I post the results, but I can also leave you out :)

Hi Kiki! Sorry to answer this late again.

1. I am unable to sleep more than 5 hours at a time, so depending on when I go to bed, I might get less than that. I have trouble falling back asleep if it's too close to when I need to get up for work, which is 5 am. So I often supplement my sleep with naps. Which I will nap for 2 to 4 hours. It's gotten pretty bad. I set alarms but I do not remember turning them off oof. Basically I can be up for about 3 hours before I want to rest again. My weekends are very sleepy.

2. I could get 8 hours of sleep (nights plus nap combined) or 12 hours and still feel exhausted the next day. I can survive on 4 hours of sleep but it won't be pretty. Lately I've been sleeping during my lunch hour. I definitely feel like I'm declining every day haha. Doctors appointment is soon tho!

3. I only recently started drinking caffeinated tea (one cup) to try and stay awake when I get home from work or on the weekend. Idk how much it helps. I'll still fall asleep. I've never had coffee before. I don't think the tea really makes me feel anything to be honest. Not grumpy or foggy or anything. Just maybe slightly more awake. I should probably go make some rn actually.

I hope that answers your questions! I hope that my doctors appointment will help change these answers to be honest! If you haven't posted your results yet you can tag me go ahead!

Hope youre doing well!

[filet-o-feelings]

get to know me better pts 1 & 2

Thanks for the tags @jesuisici33 @ramonaflow and @carolrain and @hippolotamus for part 2, combining these out of pure laziness.

Three ships: David/Patrick, Twyla/Stevie, Firstprince

First ever ship: probably Cory/Topanga?

Last song: Apollo - Noah Reid

Last movie: Red, White & Royal Blue

Currently reading: The Love Left Behind by DelilahMcMuffin (consequently, I've been crying all day)

Currently watching: haven't watched anything since the last one of these I did...

Currently consuming: water

Currently craving: pizza

Nicknames: Dani

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Height: 5'1 (and a half, sometimes I round up, but I'm still just as short)

Fav music: depends on my mood, and it's changed a lot in the last couple of years. I love some ska/punk but lately I've been leaning towards stuff like Mary Lambert and Sara Bareilles and a lot of the Heartstopper soundtrack. Always looking for music recs as I feel like I've kinda started from scratch recently, rebuilding my music library

Do you get asks: mostly just when I ask for wip games and stuff

Amount of sleep: depends, but probably average almost 8 hours. I try very hard to get enough sleep because if I don't, my sensory issues become way too overwhelming and I'm basically unable to function. Sleep is my biggest priority.

What are you wearing: a dress that I got for cheap online that's way too big but perfect for lounging around the house (aka working from home)

Dream job: I still don't know, but I guess even though I don't love my actual job, I'm kinda living as close to the dream as possible, working from home and having lots of downtime to read fic (and fill out tumblr surveys)

Languages: Sadly, just English. I took Spanish in high school and tested out for college. I've probably absorbed a little French due to my job, but not enough to be useful whatsoever.

Random facts: the day my best friend got married there was a big prison break, the wedding was the reason my dad and her husband weren't working at the prison that day.

And a related fact because it says random facts, plural: Ben Stiller later came to town to film a movie about said prison break (which I still haven't seen... also maybe it was a tv series? I don't even know, but Noah has mentioned watching it 😆) and my uncle's band played a private show for the crew before they left and Ben Stiller played my uncle's drums lol

Aesthetic: I don't know if I have much of an aesthetic. Fun, bright colors, but usually too lazy to put any decor/outfit together?

Tagging anyone else who wants to play (I'm sorry I've been so lazy with tags lately!)

[here2bbtstrash]

aaaa this looks fun (throwback to myspace surveys lmfao), ty for tagging me @haliiimede babe 💜

name: m (is what i go by on the internet 😘) sign: cancer sun, pisces moon, leo rising ✨ height: just under 5'7, will step on you if you ask nicely 👀 time: this confuses me lol. like right now??? it's 1:27 pm thx birthday: june 29~ favorite band/artist: can you imagine if i didn't say bts lmfao. some other random faves include: mitski, charli xcx, lil nas x, frank ocean, lizzo, doja cat, & mac miller 🎵 last movie: nope! which i loved last show: drag race 💅 when i created this blog: may 2022! i can't believe it hasn't been longer tbh what i post: i mean... i would hope y'all already know... the answer is porn lmfao last thing i googled: caught in 4k looking up a word to make sure it still means what i think it means

other blogs: nah, i can barely keep up with this one do i get asks: yessss and i love y'all for it 🥰 and i promise i keep all your freaky reqs even if i don't immediately fill them, hehe following: 228 followers: 1.6k 😳 average hours of sleep: 6-7 ?? instruments: in order of proficiency: guitar, ukulele, piano. i rly want to learn bass/drums !! what i'm wearing: jeans and a t-shirt, all hail casual fridays 🙌🏻 dream job: i simply do not dream of labor, i'm trying to be a crab dream trip: japan !!! (hali let's go together 👀) nationality: american/as white as they come lmao favorite songs: lately i've been looping bloom - troye sivan and little lies - odie tagging: no pressure/do it if it sounds fun (or if you're procrastinating like me 🥴) @gimmethatagustd @kiestrokes @nabiolive @allorareverz @rapline-heaux sorry my brain is mush and i think everyone else has been tagged already 😂 but if you haven't pls feel free to steal !!!

[enasallavellan]

Chapter 4

Serafina sees firsthand the destruction the darkspawn can cause and finally meets the other wardens and recruits.

Author's note: So I've been feeling a lot better lately. I'm slowly getting over a bout of pneumonia, and I'm keeping solids down. Debating rather or not to still go forward with the endoscopy or not - it's pretty damn expensive, and if I'm getting better it may not be needed. On the other hand, the medications I'm on might not be actually helping the root cause. I'd still appreciate any ko-fi donations (link at the bottom) or tips as all the medical bills have piled sky high, and I haven't been able to work since the first few days of May.

As the road faded, Duncan warned Serafina to be careful. Grass gave way to rocks and pebbles, and the once-even trail tilted upward. Serafina supposed that was one good thing about going up and down stairs all day - she easily kept pace with Duncan.

But further along, the trail took an odd turn.

Fallen trees, blackened and twisted, littered the area, and the once-thick brush seemed to have melted to the ground, leaving heaps of slimy refuse.

"Darkspawn." Duncan said gravely, "This land won't be usable for generations."

"The Darkspawn did all this?" Serafina asked in disbelief.

Duncan paused, coming to a stop. "They poison everything they touch. Look..." He kneeled down and pointed at one of the fallen trees. "I know this trail well. I've walked it many times." He shook his head. "Many of these trees are a type of oak—a particularly stubborn one. It's a struggle to cut them down and an even bigger fight to kill them. Some say fire only makes them grow."

Serafina surveyed the area, feeling a sudden eerie silence. "And the Darkspawn did all that?"

"With just a touch," Duncan replied, standing up straight. "Now you understand why we must eliminate this threat."

The silence felt louder than Duncan's voice, and a shiver ran up Serafina's spine.

"Come," Duncan said. "We should hurry. I want to leave this forest as much as you do."

The silence lingered for a while, even after they moved away from the blighted forest and entered a valley. Serafina never realized how beautiful a rocky outcrop could be—the windswept grass and scrub brush were a vast improvement from where they had just been.

"We're getting close to the meeting point," Duncan said, pointing ahead. "That's where your fellow Wardens are."

Serafina nodded, but her eyes were fixed on her own boots. Duncan allowed another moment of silence before she mustered the courage to ask, "How...?"

A sudden chill ran through her when he turned to look at her, and she quickly closed her mouth.

Duncan's voice softened as if speaking to an injured animal. "It's alright. What do you want to know? Soon enough, you'll be one of us."

She began to twist the scarf around her fingers. The light from the setting sun revealed the bits of stray fibers that had been fraying over the years, and again the ache settled deep. The fabric no longer whispered feather-soft over her skin. Instead, it whispered more akin to someone ill, throat raspy and rough. Even still, the comfort brought by the fabric embracing her fingers -

"Serafina?"

She nearly shouted as her heart jumped into her throat.

What was she doing?

She slowly moved her eyes, fighting against the drag of sudden panic to look at Duncan. He was watching her, eyes squinted, and brow creased in obvious concern. After another second, his features smoothed as he reassured, "It's alright." Then, as though the last moment had never happened, he repeated, "What would you like to know? You'll be one of us soon enough."

"I'm sorry." It was automatic - she had obviously done something wrong. 

Duncan simply shook his head again, "You have nothing to apologize for. Ask your question."

Again, the fabric muttered over her skin as she dared, "How many?"

"How many other Wardens?" Duncan asked.

She shook her head, eyes still downcast but detangling the scarf from her fingers, "No… other women."

"Of course." He said, "The group you'll spend most of your time with during this mission has seven…" He paused and said, "They'll help you adjust, and I wager you'll have friends of all kinds."

Again, an automatic nod.

"It will take time." He said, "But you are in no danger from your fellow Wardens." He did lean down to look at her closer, "That, I can promise you."

She wished she could believe him.

It wasn't long before they could hear the sounds of a camp ahead - men talking and a terrible clanging of weapons and shouting. She looked up at Duncan in concern, but he seemed unaffected by the noise but offered a smile, "Training, no doubt. You'll be with them soon."

"What can I do?" The unconscious thought slipped past her lips, and she felt the blood run hot in her face.

Duncan didn't seem to notice, "You might be surprised by what you can do. And once we have you a staff, you can do much more."

Finally, the tight path opened into the valley proper, revealing the camp below. It seemed more permanent than the camps she and Duncan had made, with multiple fires and many people milling about... A few horses were munching on grass here and there, and the entire area was dotted with clusters of tents.

Tents.

Tens where she would be expected to sleep.

Her eyes scanned the group below, her heart speeding a bit more with every person. Some laughed, some chatted, and further off, groups could be seen sparring, yelling loudly as they did. 

"Are you ready?" He asked.

Twenty-seven men, she counted. Twenty-seven if you took Duncan into account. Twenty-seven possible threats, twenty-seven sets of grabbing hands. And with each man she counted, she felt the air leaving her lungs. Suddenly, Duncan's voice quieted, fading a bit, "I'm sure Warden Robin will take you under her wing no sooner does she see you." 

Her head bobbed with an automatic agreement, but her gaze remained fixed on the camp below. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the bustling activity, the distant sounds of laughter and clashing weapons, and the sight of men and their camaraderie. With a deep breath, she looked towards the other woman again.

Maybe she'd be safe.

Then again…

There had been other women in the arl's home. Women in the alienage. But she wasn't safe there either. They watched, shook their heads, made sad faces, and whispered among themselves how it was such a shame - but they were so relieved that it wasn't them suffering. Even Nell, for all her kindness and warmth, couldn't help her.

Best not to rely on it.

"Serafina?"

Duncan's voice jerked her back to reality, and to her surprise, they were both nearing the edge of the camp. Her throat felt tight, her tongue swollen as Duncan introduced her o the others, her eyes darting download when she felt their gaze.

"This is Serafina - our newest recruit." He motioned from one person to the other, voice going softer with every name. They were all looking at her, watching her, sizing her up. Even when she looked down, the heat of their gazes burned into her neck, and she felt her shoulders hunch.

“Serafina? Serafina?”  

The voice was higher than the rest, safer. She dared a look upward and was surprised to see a smiling face. Full-cheeked and bright-eyed, the woman spoke softly, "Thank the Maker for you. It's good to see Duncan bring along someone with a brain and hygiene - no offense Duncan."

"I'm sure you'll be relieved to have the company of another of your kind."

"We aren't aliens, Duncan." She sighed.

That same rumbling laughter echoed in his chest as he nodded, "And as for your fellow recruits, they're training with Warden Ethlam and Warden Fisher." He pointed to the group that still sparred beyond, "Do you see the smaller man, elven like you?" 

She squinted at them, picking out one of them with a staff strapped to his back, a blue tabard making him stand apart from the other recruits.

"He'll begin instructing you in your magic training for now. Depending on how you two get on, he might be willing to stay on until he feels your readying."

She nodded.

"Duncan," Robin said, "If it's okay, I'm going to go ahead and get her set up. She can meet the other recruits over dinner."

He nodded, "Of course - but if I could have a moment before you leave." He motioned for her to follow him.

Robin gently touched Serafina's shoulder, "I'll be right back." 

And with that, she left her with all the others.

There were a few blurry moments of questions that she couldn't remember how to even answer, much less how she eventually chose to.

"Maker, do you people always have to crowd the recruits?" Robin asked when she returned, playfully shoving one of the others away, "Ignore the amazing clueless wonders - they have no manners." She ignored the returning ribbing, instead turning back to Serafina, "Come on, I'll help you get your pack settled."

She followed, stealing glances behind her at the group of men.

"They're harmless." She said, "If any of them do anything you don't like, either tell them to stop it or come get me. They can be idiots."

She nodded mutely.

"But they won't hurt you." She reassured, "They might say stupid shit, but I don't know any of the Wardens here who do or say something if they knew it would upset." She slowed to a stop at one of the tents, "Want to help me over this? I can't deal with Clyde's snoring anymore." She quickly took it down, "And let me guess - Duncan hasn't taught you how to pitch your own tent yet?"

She shook her head.

"Thought so." They continued to walk away from the others, past the worn-down dirt and flattened grass of the main camp, "How about here? Might be far enough away to not have to hear it - or Maker, smell it. You'd think there were no rivers or creeks or lakes or some sort of place for them to wash their socks out every few weeks."

Serafina felt herself smile a bit.

"Here." Robin handed her a rolled-up canvas. It was heavier than she expected, like the winter blankets she would put on the Arl and his family's beds. Suddenly, the fabric in her arms felt like cold, sweaty hands.  

Waterproofing. That's all it was. That was the strange texture. It wasn't cold skin or winter blankets. It was like the cloaks she would wear during Antivan's rainy season, where day in and day out, there was nothing but rain and wind and clouds. Her cloak had been more smooth and not nearly as heavy. She used to love walking in the rain, dry in the cloak her friend had bought her and surrounded by the torrent of rain and wind. It was always an odd time of year when people stayed indoors for everything except essentials, and the running joke was at least half the population of Antiva were born nine months after the rainy season. Piovere bambinos - rain babies. She had been cone, born in the early few months of the year. If she was right, her cousin was one as well, as well as some of the other kitchen girls. She knew that Marta and-

"See?" 

Robin's voice jerked her out of her thoughts, and she saw the bones of the tent standing upright in front of her. Again, she had missed the entirety of the demonstration, and she could feel Robin's expectations shriveling up. But instead, she simply smiled, "That's alright, you'll need to do it to really get a knack for it - here, I'll help you."

It was easier than just watching. With Robin's constant stream of instruction, step by step, her mind wasn't able to wander so much. Soon enough, her own tent's bones had been raised, and Robin helped her with the canvas, showing her where to tie it to the posts and ensure it was all secure.  

And there it was.

Her first victory.

Her first tent.

That promptly fell over.

"It's alright, it takes practice," Robin said with a pleasant laugh, "If you want, we can share for now, and you can get more practice on the way to Ostagar - by then, you'll be an expert, I wager."

She looked at the pile of canvas and posts in front of her, then to Robin's pristine tent beside it.  

"Getting cold anyway." She added warmly.

Serafina felt a very small smile as she nodded, "It'd like that."

Robing grinned, "Great!" She took Serafina's pack and put it in her tent, "Duncan tells me you're a mage - a healer to boot!"

It seemed an odd time to talk about boots.

"To… boot?" She asked uncertainly.

"It's an expression." She explained, "It just means that we need mages - but we especially need healers - to boot."

"To boot." She repeated, "As though to say, it was a sunny day, and warm… to boot?"

Robin laughed, "That's it." She pointed to the man Duncan had indicated to her, "See the grumpy one? That's Ethlam, he's the only mage Warden we have right now, but we do have a recruit - I heard he's been recruited through the circle." She leaned forward, "He's a bit of a grouch, but he won't hurt you either. He'll help you learn to use a staff - one should be waiting for us at Ostagar when you arrive." She nudged her, "And if somebody crosses a line and needs a good whack," She added, slapping the ground, "You can just smack them with it."

Serafina titled her head to the side, "So I don't have to go to a circle?"

"Mages are free with the Grey Wardens." She said, "Bloody good - Cricles, rotten places I've heard."

"I wasn't afraid of them until I came to Ferelden." She said.

"You weren't afraid of them in… Antiva, I'm guessing?"

She shook her head, "Templars… they don't quite have as strong of a grip in Antiva - especially ones controlled by the Crows -" She cut herself off, saying instead, "They're..."

"A network of spies and assassins." Duncan finished, "I'm aware - we have some in the Grey Wardens?"

That caught Serafina off guard, "You have Crows in the Grew Wardens?"

He nodded, "Former Crows might be a better choice of words."

A little spark of hope lit itself - would that mean...

"Well, they raided a Crow nest." She felt her hands start to tremble as she continued, moving to adjust her sleeves to keep them busy. "A lot of the different houses organized to do the same to them... they've left -" She stumbled a bit, "They've left the Crows mostly alone."

Duncan's gaze was unwavering, "And they left you alone."

Her heart started to race, and she looked away, "I wasn't a Crow... I was born in the nest and worked in the kitchen."

"I see." There was no judgment on his face, and he said it with the same tone one might respond to a much more mundane past. 

"I promise, that's not going to happen." She said firmly, "You're safe from it all with us. No templars, no circles. You're safe."

The world blurred with that word.

 "And hey." Robin's voice was gentle as she touched her hand, a strangely comforting gesture, "You and me? I have a feeling we'll be good friends, and friends protect each other. Sound good?"

Serafina rubbed at her eyes, hoping to wipe the tears away before Robin could see them, "You… really think that?"

"Definitely." Robin said, "So, I'll break the face of anyone who bothers you, and you heal me up when I'm done fighting them."

For the first time in a very long time, Serfaina felt herself laugh.

Robin squeezed her hand, "I've got your back." After a few seconds of thought, Serafina nodded, "Thank you, Robin."

"Any time - now let's get some food, I'm starving." She stood up, pulling Serafina up, "And you need to eat seconds and thirds for a while. You'll feel better once you get some regular meals in you."

"Never had much to eat." She said, following her.

Robin chuckled, "Oh, trust me. They feed us well."  

Robin continued on Serafina's right side, putting herself between her and the men. She laughed and joked as though it was a mere chance, it was clear she was acting as a barrier. She steered Serafina to a spot at the end. After a quick reintroduction between Serafina and the other Wardens, Duncan introduced her to the other recruits. First, he motioned to a woman with rosy blonde hair wrapped into a tight bun, "Lady Alice Cousland of Ferelden."

The woman smiled warmly, "Well, it would seem the women now outnumber the men." 

Beside her, a dwarf with exceptionally bright eyes laughed, "Seems the Grey Wardens have wisened up, eh?" She extended her hand, "Henrietta Brosca - scheming do-gooder."

Serafina hesitantly shook it, the other woman's grip strong and sure."

"Prince Ulrich Aeducan, of Orzammar." A fair-haired dwarf said, giving a sort of half-bow to avoid getting up, "Stone-met."

An elven man piped up next, grinning so wide that his tattoo wrinkled around his eyes, "Andaran atish'a. I've never met an elf from the human cities. Is it really truly awful?"

Yes. 

It was truly awful.

But instead, she said, "It can be difficult sometimes."

"You had to say that?" A robed woman asked.

The elven man waved her away, "It's a legitimate question." 

"It's a rude question." She argued, dark eyes glinting.

Henrietta let out a dramatic groan, "Bicker, bitch, and bellyache."

"And the snake and fennec of the group." Duncan said, "Hanin Mahariel of the Dalish Sabrae Clan, and Cosette Amell of the Order of Magi.

"Not anymore, thank the Maker." Cosette said with a weak smile.

"I'm -" Serafina cut herself off, "Never mind, sorry."

"Speak your mind." Duncan encouraged.

Serafina settled her eyes on the fire, focusing on a particularly bright coal, "I'm a mage as well. But I never went to a Circle."

Cosette sat up, "You're an apostate?"

She counted the sparks that sputtered from the coal before answering, "What does that mean?"

"That you managed to avoid the templars." Alice explained.

Serafina nodded.

Duncan then nodded to the last recruit, a scruffy-looking man with a glint in his eye, "And finally, Recruit Daveth of Denerim." He turned to the group, "This is Serafina Tabris, also of Denerim."

Serafina forced her head up enough to look at each person quickly, forcing a smile.

Hanin had moved from his spot on a rock, instead reclining in the grass, "You two know each other?" 

Daveth's answer came quickly, "I highly doubt that." His eyes looked Serafina up and down as he spoke, "I certainly wouldn't forget a face like that."

Robin snorted, "Well, if it's about faces, then she might have just forgotten about you."

There were some appreciative laughs at the jab, and Robin took over introductions, "Remember Warden Fisher and Warden Warden Ethlam working with the new recruits?" She asked, "This is Warden Ethlam - he'll begin with your magical training and staff technique."

Slight and tall, Ethlam leaned on his staff, "Well met."

"Technique?" Daveth rested his chin in his hand, "Don't you just point and wiggle your fingers?"

"Blast and blast until you can't blast no more." One Warden chuckled, "Then smack when you can't use no more magic."

"It's a bit more complicated than that." Ethlam grumbled.

Serafina's thoughts accidentally turned into words before she could stop herself, "Even though I'm…" 

There was a long pause as every face turned to face her. Finally, she managed, "Even though I'm a healing mage?"

"Doesn't matter." Ethlam said, "All you need is to be a mage, and you can funnel magic through the staff and use it to attack."

She swallowed, head bobbing in a silent nod.

Ethlam shook his head, "No need for all that. We'll start tomorrow. You'll have plenty of time to ask questions then." He tilted his bowl back, drinking broth and getting up, "Speaking of, Cosette, I want to take a look at what you can do without having others nearby run the risk of getting set on fire."

One of the recruits scrambled up, a big grin on his face.

"Don't get cocky." Ethlam said, "Wiggling your fingers at books in the Circle is nothing compared to what you're going to deal with when we get to Ostagar."

"Is it -" Again, Serafina attempted to cut the words off, but at the insistent gaze of the others, she continued, "Is it really going to be that bad?"

"It's a blight, right?" Henrietta asked, "Never a good thing when that's going on."

Cosette asked “We’ve seen the archdemon, then?”

Duncan shook his head, "Not that I'm aware of."

"Then how can we be so sure?" Amell asked.

"Because they've been flooding into the deep roads closer to Orzamar than they have since the last blight. Henrietta said, "Sodding surfacers. We fight the darkspawn every day, but not a single one of you cares until they start knocking on your door."

"Excuse me?" Cosette started.

 "I think that's enough talk for the night." Duncan interrupted, "We still have ten days before we reach Ostagar. We should get plenty of rest while we're able."

The group lumbered up, making their way toward their tents.

"Come on." Robin said, "I'm going to go take a bath while we have a clean body of water."

Serafina sighed out, "Maker, a bath would be wonderful."

"You can use my soaps." She said, "They're probably a little nicer on the skin than whatever Duncan gave you."

She smiled, "I'd like that."

"Alright, I'm going to get - hey, Melchior!"

A man glanced up.

"Come stand guard!" Robin called, leaning over to Serafina, "Don't worry, he doesn't like girls."

"I prefer the company of other gentlemen." He said as he came over.

"Other gentlemen?" Robin snickered.

"I am a gentleman!" He argued, "Watching out for you two, aren't I?"

Robin heaved a sigh, "He is kind of great." She tossed Serafina a small bag, "And if he bothers you, say the word - and know I can throw a rock very accurately."

"Why is it always violence with you?" Melchior asked in an exaggerated whine.

"Oh, only when you deserve it." She said, "Come on, Fina."

She caught up with Robin, standing close to her as they walked.

"He's a good one." Robin promised, "Honestly, we could ask any of them to stand guard, and they'd be respectful. Now, some would still yell things and act like they were looking to be annoying, but they wouldn't actually do it."

Serafina nodded, hands twisting again. The red scarf ran between her fingers as she twisted it around them. Funny, how silk stayed cool and so-

Suddenly, her sense snapped back to reality at the vagally fatty smell. The bottom of her vision was obscured by the lumpy block of soap under her nose.

"There you are." Robin said brightly, "Floated off for a second there."

She went red, "Sorry."

Robing shook her head, "No, don't apologize for sort of thing. Now, come on, Melchior is way back there, and he's facing away. Let's get cleaned up, yeah?" Then, she gasped as she added, "Oh, can I -" But she cut herself off, "Never mind."

She looked behind her once before taking off her clothes, looking behind her every few seconds to ensure Melchior's back was still turned. "What is it?"

She waved dismissively, "Don't worry about it."

"Are you -" The following words came out in a gasp, forced out of her by the cold water, "Sure?"

"Sure." Robin replied, "It was one of those childish thoughts we all get."

Serafina grabbed the soap and rubbed it over her skin. The scent was softer than what she used in the alienage and felt less harsh and gritty. But it was still a far cry from the soothing, pleasant-smelling soap that was so common in Antiva. 

Another pang for her homeland thumped against her ribcage.

Serafina took the soap to her hair. She tried to be gentle, but she realized it might take some time between the harsh soap and the sheer amount of hair to wash.

"Oh, I can't stand it!" Robin laughed, "I don't care if it's childish - Can I braid your hair?"

The request took a moment to process, "You want to braid my hair?"

"Of course I do! Just look at it!" 

Serafina frowned a bit, scooping some of her long hair floating around her and examining it.

Nothing had changed. Still a dull, murky sort of brown. 

"Antivans have such pretty thick hair." Robin rubbed her hand over her short cropped hair, "Mine was so wild and curly, I just cut t off - but yours!"

Serafina frowned at her hair, "Not... really."

Robin threw her clothes aside, cursing and complaining as she went into the water, "Can't talk. Too cold. Shit."

"Why do you think I started right away?" Serafina asked before submerging to rinse the soap out.

Robin gritted her teeth against the cold, "My mouth taking over wins the day again." 

Luckily, the base campfires were still burning, so they could warm up before returning to Robin's tent.

"So…?" Robin asked, fingers wiggling in anticipation, "Can I?"

Already, Serafina felt a remarkable familiarity with Robin - it had been a long time since the last time she had felt the beginning of a friendship with anyone so quickly. And she was grinning so wide, eyes bright with excitement, that Serafina was happy to nod and say, "If you want to."

Robing laughed and clapped her hands in a surprisingly girlish manner, drawing a laugh from Serafina.

It was good to have a friend again.

Read the full fic from the beginning at my A03 here!

If you’re willing and able, feel free to donate to my ko-fi or drop a tip in the jar to help me afford my many medications to keep the crazy at bay!

[timeoverload]

I am so happy to be home. It was a long day. I didn't have eye cases this morning so it was nice to not have to rush like I normally do. I'm glad that I had time to get a burrito for breakfast because lunch looked terrible and smelled bad. I wasn't going to waste my money on that. I spent my morning doing power equipment and sterrad. I haven't done that in a while so I guess it was nice to mix it up for once. I offered to take a decontam shift because I didn't feel terrible this morning and it has been a while since I did that but they wouldn't let me so I guess that was nice. I think they are afraid I'm going to hurt my back more. I had 17 cases this afternoon but surprisingly I got done right at 5:30 so I was amazed.

I got frustrated with the department director earlier. He was so appreciative of me staying so late last week but now I think he expects me to be able to do that all the time. I had a surgical tech come up to me and asked if I could train her to do my job so she could help me out once she starts taking lates. She can tell that I'm burned out and not a lot of people know how to do that. He told her I can't do that right now even though I'm in charge of that and I know what I'm doing. The director won't let me train any of the late techs right now because it's "too hectic" and he wants to wait for things to slow down. It's always busy. It wouldn't effect anyone in our department at all. I tried to talk to him about stuff earlier but he seemed annoyed and brushed me off. I guess he expects me to just deal with it until then. He still doesn't know how to do my job and neither does the morning team lead so I can't rely on them. They keep saying they will learn but I know they don't want to. They avoid it every time I ask about it. He also wants me to update the eye instrument book since it hasn't been done in years so I don't know when I'm going to find time to do that. That will probably take several hours.

They are making me complete a talent survey so they can identify what my top 5 talents are. I already filled that out when I got hired but they lost the information somehow so now I have to do it again. Last time it took over an hour and I remember it being terrible. I don't know when I'm supposed to do that. I might have to stay late to complete that if I can't find time during the day. I have to get it done by next Thursday. I think HR is just trying to give people more work to do during the busy season while they sit in their offices. No one else in my department has to do it. It's so stupid.

I am also getting so sick of instruments getting lost or broken. A lot of the time it isn't my fault but it falls back on me. Some of the techs have been leaving cannulas and I&A handpieces attached to their disposable tubing and throwing them away. I have had to dig through the trash multiple times to try to find things. Today another connor wand manipulator broke and those are $300 a piece. They are so delicate and if you touch it the wrong way, the tip will snap off. We don't have any extras and they are on back-order and the eye coordinator is upset about it. I understand and I'm upset too. I'm trying to be more careful than I already am.

I requested January 2nd and 3rd off. I don't have anything planned but I just don't want to be there. I'm looking forward to that.

I had to make a doctors appointment for next month because I have to go in for a med check or else they won't refill my lamotrigine. I'm not planning on changing my dosage because it's already pretty high.

I'm also bummed that I won't get to see you until the end of the month but I will be ok. I'm not going to complain about it too much. I just miss you. 💖💖💖

Despite the bad things that happened, it was still a pretty good day. Sorry for complaining so much, I just need to vent sometimes. I was happy to get to leave on time. I was going to stop and get something to eat on my way home but I changed my mind because I was tired and cold. I will probably just have some soup in a little while because I don't think I have anything else to eat right now other than poptarts. I'm tired and I need to go to bed early I think. Hopefully tomorrow is a good day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too!! 💖💖💖