#anyways this is my second time drawing solas cheers

[fattylime]

vallyn and solas for @/Westlywheatlya2 🌱

[agmapansa3008]

Some WIPs

I was inspired by @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul, I hope they don’t mind!

Posting some of my WIPs, maybe some of you will like them :D

Unnamed Cullrian fic

On one such occasion he was looking for the commander after he failed to show up for their weekly game, stopping at the door to the Throne Room when he heard his voice. Frowning, he listened. Cullen sounded agitated. "-is quite enough, M'am. Lord Pavus has proven himself many a time for this Inquisition. He is an asset and a friend and I shall not tolerate any insult towards him."

 Oooh. Another one of those arguments then. Dorian thought Mother Giselle would finally lay off if him after the disaster with his father. The old lady was quite meddlesome for someone who was supposedly there as a soothing presence. Cullen's words however, made him smile softly. The things that man said. 

Before he could make his presence known, though, the mother started speaking in a hushed tone. "And can you be quite sure that the Mage isn't helping your emotions and thoughts along?"  

Dorian bristled. The nerve on that woman! Surely no one could believe such a vile- 

"I can't be sure of that, no I-" The door fell shut as the mage stumbled back. Ice cursed through his veins, quite literally, as his magic jumped with his sudden spike in emotion. It crackled into his fingertips in the form of lighting, only to rush fire back into his chest. He felt his stomach drop as his heart burned.

Well. 

Stumbling back, he mad his way through Solas' alcove - thankfully the other mage was nowhere to be seen - and took the opposite way than his quarters, needing to get out. To breathe. 

He crossed the commander's office and moved over the battlefront to the little look out section, slipping down into a slump, with his back against the stony railing. Frustrated tears were streaming down Dorian's face, and he forcefully brushed them aside with the back of his hand. How could he... after everything Dorian had told him, about how his father had tried to change him... how could he possibly believe that Dorian would be capable of doing something so horrible. So completely utterly disgusting? 

How could he trust him so little, after all this time? It had been months. Long, hard fought months, months in which friendships had been forged and families had been formed. Months. 

And yet Cullen still assumed the worst of him. He was still, even to one of his dearest friends, the evil mage from Tevinter. Friends. 

More tears flew and a bitter chuckle escaped him, broken on a sob. Not friends. Not more. 

Nothing. 

---

Amatus (Cullrian)

When he entered the tavern, his mood only heightened as he spotted his dear commander standing in a corner. With a wide grin and a quip ready on his lips, Dorian started to make his way towards him, but stopped, uncertain, when he realised who Cullen was talking to. 

Krem, to his credit, realised his mistake quickly, eyes passing from Commander to mage and widening comically. "Oh-" he stammered. "Oh no." 

Cullen, on the other hand, slowly turned towards Dorian, an unreadable look on his face, that had the Altus frozen. He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows, but before he could say what he was preparing himself for, Dorian... bolted. 

Childish, sure, but it was a knee jerk reaction to his brain yelling 'Get out get out get out' at him. 

Well fuck. He had forgotten about Krem. 

How had he forgotten about Krem?

---

WinterIron Tattoo Soulmate Fic

"Right, gimme just a second. I'll just dress real quick." 

"Pity." Tony looked up from his phone to see Bucky roll his eyes with a grin and huffed a laugh himself. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander slightly when the taller man turned around to walk into his bedroom. But when his eyes arrived on his back, his mind came to a startling halt when he saw the dark ink right between Bucky's shoulder blades. 

It was his symbol. The same dark red triangle, encircled black. His symbol, right there on Bucky's back. 

But how? 

Confused Tony stared after him, the door closing slightly. Hope and happiness started to blossom in his heart and a smile was slowly making its way onto his lips. 

Why hadn't he said anything? Tony had shown him his symbol, why hadn't he- 

And just like that, the smile dropped. 

Oh. 

Of course. How stupid of him. 

Chest burning, Tony had to lean against the wall behind him, in fear that his legs would give in. His eyes were slowly fogging over. With a shaky breath he tried to speak. "Hey Barnes?" 

"Yeah?" The voice was still as cheerful as always, still as bright. 

Tony's chest ached even more as he wondered what was going through Barnes' head whenever they hung out. How much it bothered him to keep the secret. If he even cared by now. Tony had shown him his symbol half a year ago. He swallowed. "Sorry, we will have to push this to some other time. Pepper just called with something SI related." He wondered if the other could hear the slight tremor in his voice. "It's important." 

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah no worries, work is work." Bucky's steps came closer again and Tony quickly turned around to leave. "Do you want to- you're leaving already?"

Without turning back, the genius quickly nodded, wanting to be anywhere but here. "Yeah, sorry, gotta run. I'll see you around, stud!" 

"Ah- sure!"

---

Unnamed Stanny Fic

Danny is tired. He’s tired and has a headache and he keeps thinking about the fact that his best friend left for Europe without even telling him and his day sucks. So when Stiles - bundle of joy and sarcasm Stiles - jogs up to him with a too wide smile he just... snaps. "So Danny! Question for you. Do you-" 

"No, Stiles! For god's sake I do not find you attractive!" And Stiles blinks at him, eyes wide and... hurt. Shit, Danny is already starting to feel guilty and he really doesn’t need that on top of everything else. "Listen..." 

But Stiles lets out a little laugh, eyes vacant and a little shiny. "Well, I've figured, you know. You never answered me anyway." He draws a hand through his slightly longer hair, a grin masking the sting. "I was actually just asking if you wanted to sit... to sit with us, you know. So you're not alone or whatever. Lydia is there, too. And you like Allison, so... yeah." 

And great, now Danny just feels even more shitty. "Thanks Stiles, I... that's nice of you." He stands up and follows Stiles to the misfit table, Lydia smiling at him genuinely. "Stiles, I..." 

A message on the boy's phone interrupts him though, and he watches as Stiles pulls it out and deflates a little. "It's Derek." He says to the group, avoiding anyone's eyes. "I'll just take this and see you in class, Scott. Anyway, good to have you, Danny." 

And Danny can only stare after him, sitting down heavily on the bench.

---

Unnamed Spideypool Fic

It's then that he realises that Wade isn't next to him anymore. In fact, the place next to him is cold. 

He frowns and sits up, his back aching on the verge of pain. There's no note or something similar, but Deadpool-esque. No lipstick on his mirror. No message on his wall, pinned by a knife. No nothing. Not in the bedroom nor any other room in the flat. He left nothing behind. 

Peter's frown deepens, the high of the night making way for a heavy feeling in his chest. He ignores it, as he takes a shower. Ignores it, as he sits on the couch. Tries to ignore it hours later when he's dressing for his night patrol. 

His heart sinks and he feels vaguely sick to the stomach. That night, he apprehends four bank robbers and one pick pocket, prevents a gang fight, and rescues a kidnapped victim. 

He goes home and takes another shower. This time though, this time he scrubs his skin until it's an angry pink. Scrubs away the feeling of callused hands against his skin. Of lips again his neck, his chest. Of whispers in his ear and lips against his lips. 

He scrubs, until it hurts and only then does he leave the shower and collapse onto the couch, the mere thought of even looking at his bed nauseating. 

He shivers as he let's the held back feelings wash over him. Shame and anger mix in a cocktail of disgust. 

He feels used. And pathetic. 

He doesn't sleep. But he doesn't cry either. 

--- 

That’s it for now. I do have a lot more, but those are the ones I felt like sharing for now.

Might do something like this another time!

[commanderlurker]

Tuesday

Monday

*

Cullen’s wearing his blue shirt. Must be Tuesday. Fuck, how can it only be Tuesday? Jesus Christ. At least I brought lunch today. Sure it’s left over pizza, but still, making an effort, right? I’ll get that loaf of bread on my way home tonight. Definitely.

Urg. Whose salad is that in the fridge? Right. Dorian. Who else could’ve made it. Wonder what else’s in here. Let’s see… yoghurt, more yoghurt, some kind of soup. Not sure if it started life as soup but it’s soup now. Ew. Gross. That one’s a biohazard. I’ll just… yeah. Close the fridge.

Coffee? Anyone want coffee? Just me? Well, I am the only one here.

Oh thank the Lord, the coffee machine is fixed. And I’ve got my special cup. Yes. Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it in my loins.

“Morning, Lou.” Speaking of loins...

“Hey, Bull. How’s it?” Yes, today is going to be a very good day. God. Look at him. Like, really look at him with his top buttons undone showing a scandalous amount of chest. “I like your shirt.” Yes. Good. Nice excuse to be staring at his chest.

“Thanks. Had it a while. You’re looking happy today.”

Oh my God. Don’t blush. Just smile. Yeah, that’s a good one. “Well, I got coffee. What more could I want?” You to lay your hands all over me. Just once. Or twice.

“Heh. I know, right? See you round.”

Okay. Got my coffee fix. Got my Bull fix. No mail duty for me. Straight into work. Clear out those emails. Ha! Cassandra’s done the reply all to the Friday night drinks email. Classic. And Blackwall’s gotten in on it too. These guys. Ah, shit. What’s this? System upgrade… Change to payment cut off… Fuck. Fuck and shit why did this have to happen. Now I have to have all my invoices processed by lunchtime! This is bull shit. I’m calling my union rep. Except I’m not in the union, am I? What one would I be in? Is there a union for generic office drones?

Just hunker down and do your work, Lou. It’s only one day. Got that raid to look forward to tonight, remember? The whole guild’s gonna be there. Aww yeah. Get in.

Work work work work work. Something something work work work. I don’t think she was singing about this kind of work…

Oh, and there’s Solas. Late as usual. With an even bigger cup of coffee this time. Maybe he keeps his ego in there.

Urg. This provider hasn’t totaled the hours. God. Do I have to do everything for them? Where’s my calculator? No, come on Lou, use your head. Give that brain a workout. Right. Three and a quarter, plus four and a half, plus three and three quarters… I don’t have any quarter length fingers… watch. I’ll draw a watch face… and… okay. Does that look right? That doesn’t look right. Gonna add it up again. Same answer. Still doesn’t look right. Fuck it. Gonna check with the calculator. Doop doop doop. And I was right! Would you look at that! Genius. I knew that arts degree would come in handy.

Woah, hey! Where did these forms come from? They just appeared! Out of nowhere! Where’s Leliana? She must have dropped them off without saying anything. Or maybe I was so engrossed with my work that I didn’t notice her. I should thank her next time I see her.

Right. God. Look at them all. What’s the time? Morning tea time yet? Please let it be ten--

Nine fifteen.

Why God! Whhhhy? How can this be?

“Are you okay there?”

Shit. Caught having an existential breakdown. Say something, Lou. Cullen’s staring at you like you’re having a stroke. Am I having a stroke? No. You’re being a fucking idiot. “Yeah, I’m good. No worries. Thanks.”

“Okay then. I was wondering about this invoice…” What’s this? Cullen asking for my advice? My opinion? Like I know what I’m talking about. Jesus. He’s kinda leaning into me. He smells pretty good. Freshly showered and with some musky masculine deodorant. My god. I’m not attracted to him, am I? He is kinda hot. God, don’t go there Lou. One office crush is enough. You don’t need two.

“Yeah, so I think that one is the client number, and that one is the customer number. I think they just got them around the wrong way. No need to send it back though.” That sounded helpful. And I think I even managed to say the right thing.

“You don’t think?”

“About sending it back? No. I mean, that client is only in the system as a client, so they’re clearly not a customer as well. There’s no confusion. Other than that they’ve put the numbers in around the wrong way.”

He’s tapping his chin and frowning. Why is he making such a big deal about this? Just use your initiative, Cullen! I know you’ve got it! That’s why you wear the same shirts on the same days every fucking week! You’re an individual!

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I think I’ll check with Vivienne.”

“But--”

“Thanks, Lou.”

What the fuck, Cullen? You come all the way over here to ask for my advice and you’re just going to ignore it anyway? Jesus Christ. What’s the point of me even being here. Fine.

God, I’m thirsty. Tea. I’ll go make a tea. But morning tea is soon. I can last.

No. No I can’t. Gonna make tea.

No one in the break room. Good. I can scratch my arse. And look out the window. Look at all that sunshine. Look at it all. And look where I am. Breathe, Lou. Give it another year and you’ll have enough saved up to leave and see all the sunshine you want.

Blerg. This milk smells off. Ew, it tastes off too. Gross. I’ll just put it back… No! Don’t do it! Break the cycle! Chuck it out!

Down the sink you go, glug glug glug.

“What are you doing? Stop!” What? Leliana? “I was keeping that.”

For what? Don’t ask. Just apologise. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” Easy does it. Put the lid back on. Put the rancid milk away because Leliana is keeping it. Christ on a cracker. Okay. Lesson learned. Do not use initiative.

I’m just gonna be nice and quiet and no one will bother me. Shit this tea is awful. Should’ve stuck with coffee.

Work work work work work.

Email. Ignore. No, better read it. Hmm. Nope, ignore.

Work work work--god damn that fucking song.

Aaand, it’s time for morning tea. Better not fuck about. Got to get this pay run done by lunchtime because someone is doing a system upgrade. Probably Dorian. Why can’t he do it after hours like a normal person. He probably has a social life. Definitely has a social life. Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, Lou. You got friends! They just all live in other parts of the country. Or overseas. And you’ve never met them. Or know what they look like. No, I know what Alistair looks like. We’re Instagram friends! And he has a cute doggie. Bet the dog would be better at tanking than him. Anyway. Morning tea.

Got my boiled egg. Got my kiwifruit. One cancels out the effects of the other. Second coffee of the day. And would you look at that? Bull’s waving me over. Only Dorian is making a beeline too. Shit. We’re on a collision course. Outta my way Dorian, that man is mine. Take no prisoners, Lou. Trip the bastard if you have to.

Yes, he’s backed off. That empty spot is all mine. And what a graceful flop onto the couch. Managed a shoulder brush, too. Oh he smiled at me. Best. Day. Ever.

“What’s with the eggs?”

“Huh?” Way to go, Lou.

“The eggs. You have one every day.” Look at him, engaging with you in conversation. You could be the only two people in existence right now.

“They’re healthy, you know? Protein, so I can build my guns. Ha! Not guns like yours though. Yours are something else! Ha ha!” God, I cannot take myself anywhere. “And I just really like peeling boiled eggs.” Why did you say that? What the fuck compelled you to say that? Now he’s going to think you have an egg fetish!

“You ever try duck eggs? They’re pretty good, too.”

“Fuck, yeah! I love them! Hadn’t had them for a while thought. Haven’t seen them in the supermarket.” I’ve never had duck eggs in my life.

“Have you tried that boutique place in the mall? I’ve seen them there before. Quail eggs too. They’re tiny though. Now, ostrich eggs, those are real eggs!” God I love his laugh. He’s amazing. Look at us, talking about eggs. Hey, Bull, I got some eggs you can get your hands on if you know what I mean.

God I hate myself. “The mall you reckon? I’ll hit it up at at lunch time. Cheers.” Ask if he wants to come with you.

“Well, I got to get back to work.”

Damn. Now he’s leaving. Don’t leave. Holy shit this couch is like a waterbed. Don’t think about rolling around on a waterbed with him.  And don’t fall into his gravity well.

And he’s gone. Reality flows back in. Right. Everyone else. What are they talking about. Blackwall and his fucking chainsaw. Sera’s staring at Cass like she’s the sun. Or the moon. Something. I don’t know. Dorian. Dorian’s good for a chat. Ask him about that system upgrade. That’ll make it look like you’re engaging with the company and that you care.

Oh, Jesus Mary and Joseph, I didn’t expect to get an entire history lesson on computers. Am I nodding in the right place? What the fuck is an API? Do I have one? How would I know?

Right. All that makes perfect sense. “So…”

“So just make sure your Tuesday payment run is done by one p.m. or your schedule is likely to end up looking like a hoard of buffalo have rampaged through it.”

“Right. Yeah. I better get to it then!” Mutter, mutter, why do I bother.

Payment run. Here we come.

Work work work work--God dammit with that song.

Loading these invoices is going well though. Tuesday’s so much better than Mondays. No shit smeared forms to deal with. Just have to wrangle this spreadsheet so the data imports properly… and something’s out. By ten grand. Fuck. Okay. Don’t panic. You’ve done this before. Bigger numbers are easier to fix than smaller numbers. Ah, here you go. You put an extra zero on this line. Recalculate and… Still out. Fucking shit balls God damn.

Breathe, Lou. Don’t be like Cassandra. Keep those windows closed and that computer inside the building. I need a tea. And a pee. Not in that order. Can’t take my cup to the toilet though. That’s just weird. Fine. Tea room first. Go the long way round so I can spot Bull. Damn. Not there. Okay. Cup dropped off, tea bag in so it doesn’t look like I’m one of those so-called filthy bastards who just dumps their dirty dishes everywhere. And… toilet time. Ooh, could play some Angry Birds. No! No time! Just clearing the head so I can tackle this reconciliation. Round the corner to the loos and… Bull! Leaving the gents. What a pleasant surprise! I wonder if he washes his hands. Kinda don’t care if he doesn’t. Is that gross? It’s gr--

Dorian leaving the gents. And Bull giving his ass what looks to be a friendly and very familiar slap. Quick, hide! Back around the corner.

I knew it. I fucking knew it. That fucking little--wait. Were they leaving the toilets together? Did they… in a bathroom stall? Well fuck me. Except not. Yeah, I really hope he washed his hands. Okay, really need to pee now. Shake those shoulders out, go round the corner and--

Slam face first into Bull’s ample, and may I say, pillowy, chest. Jesus.

“Oh my god, Bull. I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you--”

“Hey, no damage done Lou. Your face okay though?”

“Mmm hmm.” I think my nose is broken. And I really need to pee. “Sorry. Would love to stay and chat but I really need to pee! Bye!”

God fucking dammit. Jesus Christ. Get in there. Sit down. Think about your life. No. Don’t do that. You’ll cry. Don’t cry at work, Lou, please. Just pee, for fuck’s sake. There, ah, yeah, that’s better.

Bull and Dorian. Is it serious? Are they together? Like, boyfriends… or friends with benefits? I hate them both. This shouldn’t surprise me though. Rumor mill says Bull’s had half the office. Not Sera though. Definitely not Sera. Probably not Cassandra either. And not me. Ha! Not me! No, not happy-go-lucky-completely-up-for-it-has-fantasies-involving-photocopiers Lou!

Urg. Just get that payment run done. Got pizza for lunch, remember? And a mission for duck eggs! Don’t forget that! But I’m supposed to be saving my money… But duck eggs. Recommended by Bull. He’s fucking Dorian. What do I care. My life is over.

And I forgot to make the tea. Fuck it. I’m at my desk now.

Email from Leliana. A long and terse email about keeping the kitchen tidy. Ha. And there’s an attachment. Shitting Jesus fuck balls. A photo. Of my cup. Sitting there. On the bench. With a big red arrow that looks like it was added in Paint pointing to the dishwasher. Oh my God. Everyone knows it’s mine because it has my fucking name on it. Oh my God I’m really going to cry now. I have never been more humiliated. I didn’t leave it there negligently! You must understand! I had to go to the toilet and didn’t want to take the cup so I stopped at the tea room first but then I walked in on a private moment between two employees and I was so shaken and upset that I just forgot! Please, don’t make an example of me!

Fuck and here come the reply-alls. Yeah yeah, Blackwall. Laugh it up. Not like you don’t have a whole compost heap of tea bags hidden in your beard.. Ah Jesus, even Cullen is getting in on it. Fuckity fuck trumpets. All of you. I hate you all. I’m going to hand in my resignation. Fuck the pay run. I’ll type it up right now.

Email from Bill. Bull. Is he going to make fun of me, too?

From: Bill Q To: Louise Trevelyan Subject: RE: Re: Re: Please Treat The Kitchen With Respect.

Hey Lou,

D*ck move by Leliana, right? She’s really got it in for you. Don’t know why. You sh*t in her cat milk or something? Don’t let her get to you. Chin up. I got your back.

Bull

 Well. That’s nice. No, really. Nice of Bull to send that. Better reply.

From: Louise Trevelyan To: Bill Q Subject: RE: Re: Re: Re: Please Treat The Kitchen With Respect.

Thanks. Yeah. I might’ve poured her rancid milk down the sink this morning. But I didn’t know! The bottle just looked like the regular milk we have and it was off, so I thought I’d use my initiative so we wouldn’t get some bullsh*t email about the fridge being gross. Go me. Won’t bother doing that again.

That’ll do. Hit send. I’m still angry at you though, Bull. Jealous. Envious. Whatever the difference is.

Where was I? Right. Reconciling this fucking pay run. And--

What the shit.

Are you shitting me.

No. Can’t be that simple. Shit. Fucking shit balls! It is that simple! How did I not notice that I was working in the wrong. Fucking. Spreadsheet. Oh my God. Lou. I am going to throttle you.

Get the right spreadsheet up. There. Look. Reconciled first time. Submit. Payment run done.

I can’t fucking believe it. I’m too fucking angry to be relieved. If I’d just paid attention instead of groaning forever then I would have noticed. And I wouldn’t’ve gone to make that cup of tea. And I wouldn’t have seen Bull and Dorian. And I wouldn’t’ve forgotten my tea. And Leliana wouldn’t’ve sent that email. And my life would be fantastic. But instead! You went and did this! To yourself!

Fuck it. I don’t care what time it is. Pay run is done. I’m getting lunch. Have to go into the tea room. The scene of the crime. Hold your head high, Lou. Own it. Wear it. Get your pizza then get the fuck out. Don’t look at that milk.

Right. Got it. Out of here.

And it’s raining. What happened to the sun. Fucking shit balls. Gonna make a dash for my car. Here we go. Keys, keys, gotta get my keys. Don’t drop--

Nice save.

And in. Ah. Good.

Eating pizza in the car at lunch time. Classic Lou. Gonna read. Let my kindle around here somewhere… there. Oh, sauce on the seat. Wipe that off. Cool. Gonna settle down.

Good. book. Good pizza. Makes up for all that shi--who the fuck is that?! Get away! Dorian? It’s just Dorian. Fuck’s sake. Why’s he bothering me and not fucking his boyfriend.

Should wind down the window I suppose. “Yeah?”

“Lou. Have you locked the doors? Let me in. It’s pissing down out here.”

Fine. How does he not look like a drowned rat?

Great. He’s giving me the judgemental-yet-concerned look. “I know Leliana’s email was a bit rude but there’s no need to eat your… that… in the car by yourself.”

“You’re here now.”

“Yes. Quite. Lou,” Oh great. He’s turned to face me. Is this going to be a serious conversation? Is he staging at intervention? “You know I care about you as a sister--”

“What kind of siblings do you have? We’ve never spent more than five minutes outside of work together.”

“I’m an only child.” Huh. Explains a lot.

“Me too.” Explains a lot.

Look at him grinning. Such a charmer. No. I’m angry with him. Remember that.

“Two peas in a pod, you and me.” Dorian. Yeah. A real charmer. “I feel I owe you an apology.”

What? “What for?”

Great. Now he looks rueful. “I feel partly responsible for that email. If you hadn’t seen Bull’s little indiscretion then you woudn’t’ve run off with your tail between your legs and forgotten your tea cup. I know how it is. Can’t take your cup into the toilets and all that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That was not convincing, Lou. He knows it, too.

“I know that you know that you saw us. Don’t pretend.”

“Are you two serious? Do you love each other?” Jesus, Lou. Please say yes. Rip the bandage off. It’ll hurt now but your heart will heal quicker.

“Christ, no.” Damn. But that means there’s still hope. “He just drags me off for a quickie every now and then to help keep the stress levels down. Lord knows I need it working there.”

What. “Are you for real?”

“Yes?”

“I hear he’s done half the office.” Yes, Lou, get the gossip out. But sit back. Don’t look so eager. And why’s your fucking seat belt on?

“Ha! I suppose he has. But wait... Oh. Oh I see how it is. Hmm. Yes.” Why’s he patting my leg in a pitiful way? “He hasn’t approached you, has he. No. How odd.”

“What do you mean?”

Dorian, there’s no need to look around to see if anyone’s eavesdropping. We’re in a car. Does add a frisson of mystery to the conversation though. “Bull’s… how do I put this. A giver. A problem solver. A… sexual therapist, in a way. He doesn’t respond to people asking him out, but when he sees someone in need and if he thinks he can help, then he’ll approach that person and…” And what? And what, Dorian? Don’t you dare leave me hanging. “He’s a kinky fucker, let me tell you. But I’ve told you too much already. I must be going.”

“Dorian!” He’s opened the door! “Dorian, get back in the car.” Shit, he’s closed the door. Wind down the window. “Dorian! This isn’t Fight Club! This is my vagina we’re talking about!” Shit. I did not just yell that into the street.

“See you back at the office, Lou!”

Fucking--

And I never went and got those fucking duck eggs. Too late. May as well just head back and… work work work--No. Stop. I am declaring this day officially over. No more thinking.

I quit.