#scribbles ✒️

[tokusaatsus]

“You should be more aware of your surroundings, Tsukasa~kun.” You tease, carefully balancing the salver of papers in one hand and the Suou Seal in the other.

If any of the Suou Household’s servants could see you now, they’d probably keel over and die on the spot at your casual behaviour and address to their beloved bocchama. “The Suou Seal is kind of a big deal…should you really be leaving it with someone like me?”

“Of course! Who else could I trust, if not for my loyal Knight?”

[habitual-creatures]

H3 D3S3RV3D 3V3RYTHING I DID AND M0R3.

I've never seen you get that cold blooded since.

I W0ULD'V3 D0N3 TH3 SAM3 T0 SM0K3. AND Y0U KN0W I'LL D0 TH3 SAM3 T0 THAT SPINDLY FUCK 0NC3 I FIGUR3 0UT H0W.

*Jo walks away from the door, closing it and going into the kitchen* How you likin' those journals, Roger?

~🕕/✒️📖

Aside from having some issues with your handwriting sometimes, a lot. This is like- WOW, yknow?

This is just- yeah, it's awesome.

[so2uv]

ah it’s fine i’m posting his profile probably tmr anyways so i’m just going to give basic details rn TW blood, death

ok so shun liu! uh he’s 22 years old, a somewhat struggling university student, a very in the closet bisexual, and 5’10

he can see ghosts which is the easy part to describe when it comes to his powers. the other part not so much. basically, whenever he falls asleep, he ends up having visions of the people who will die the next day/in the morning. usually the people he dreams about are people he’s interacted with. not close with, but interacted with (ex. talking to them or having the other person talk to him)

it’s sort of multiple visions a night? think of a film, and the film is flipping quickly through the key moments in the movie. that’s what his visions are like. he sees the exact moment of their death. (ex. when the car hits or when the knife sinks into the skin for the killing blow)

usually he views all of these from and outsider perspective. he can’t touch, can’t speak, can’t do anything when in the visions except for hear, see, and smell.

however, there are occasions where shun will take on the pov of the person who is getting killed. in those moments, he’s unable to control his own body movements and still cannot speak with his own voice. but, he feels every emotion that’s running through the person’s body during this moment. these visions are lengthier and are more of a rare occurrence. (he doesn’t know that these visions mean that he’s close with the person)

visions can sometimes be activated by touch but they aren’t full on. they mostly include flashes of sound, smell, and sometimes, a flicker of what will kill the person

oh and magic isn’t exactly welcomed in this universe. but shun considers himself lucky, because hey, others have it way worse with hiding their gifts, so he shouldn’t be so sulky about his own abilities

[tainted-be-the-light]

Bright snow covers the world, Buries the world's woes, Hides all sorrows

[not-someones-shadow]

Tag list

👾Could have been anyone else (Interactions with other blogs)

✒️Anything better to do? (Asks)

🗝️This guy? (Sora)

🔑 Two? (Roxas)

🪡Precious puppet (Xion)

🕯️Stolen light (Ventus)

💖Friends of yours (Interactions with Riku, Kairi, Axel, Aqua, Terra)

🎨Doodle girl (Namine)

👁️‍🗨️Master (Xehanort, Xemnas, Ansem Seeker of Darkness)

🌰Your own person (Repliku)

✨Scribbles✨(Posts containing Scribbles the Unversed)

🐦‍⬛Rocks the Archraven (Posts containing Rocks the Unversed)

🥚Eggs the scrapper (Posts containing Eggs the Unversed)

✖️Tic tac and Toe ⭕ (Posts containing the Hareraiser trio)

🐝Andrenidae/Sweetie Pie (Posts containing the Xenomorph Unversed)

⚙️Void Gear the damn Gecko (Posts with Void Gear's truest form)

♟️What exists beyond the veil (Vanitas musings)

Memoir of a shadow (short stories)

🥬cabbage creations (mod posting)

From the Garden (completed artwork)

Darkness in a bottle (visuals)

💔The aching and breaking (Darkness)

⭐Wayfinder AU

[toeridiaorbust]

I Just Realized the Paper in the Radial Charts Are Visually Unique Too

All images belong to Red Spring Studio.

Mhin:

Theirs looks the 'cleanest', relatively speaking. Possible scribbled notes in the margins, there?

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

[More under the cut]

Vere:

There's, uh, a lot of blood. Fits the 5 rank of his 'Wanton Violence', doesn't it?

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

Kuras:

I know we haven't seen Kuras eat/drink anything in both the demo and other official art by RSS, but I know the stain of an overfilled coffee mug on a paper when I see one! [It's even referenced in the LI quiz the devs put out ages ago, the French press coffee!]

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

Ais:

While everyone's blue paper note is ripped at the top and bottom, Ais's has the addition of being crinkled up and torn!

As others noted in reblogs/tag/comments on the official RSS post for Ais, the Animal Handling rank is in allusion to his control of all the Soulless at the Seaspring.

However, there's the tear that cuts through it too. Ocudeus is the something Ais cannot control. [This is also noted by others in the fandom!]

[This also completely terrifies be because oh no! Ais is losing himself!]

The crumbled paper could be similar to how a student carelessly jams their homework/notes/etc. into their backpack and turns it in that way to the teacher. Ais is trying to keep Ocudeus in check/suppress it/them/him(?), but it isn't working anymore.

All in all, I cannot wait to see what the devs have in store for Leander's.

[itsokguysimquirky]

❥ coffee delivery 📓☕✒️

❥ lip gallagher x reader, no use of y/n, college!au, pre-relationship / potential friends-to-lover, cute little thing i wrote as a writing warm-up because I haven't in ages :p wrote it at 3am. proof read it 2 days later at 1am. so apologies if it's nonsense

❥ w/c -> 988

Consistency and Lip Gallagher were basically sworn enemies. Or at least, they weren’t very familiar with each other. That was until he managed to get roped up into your study sessions. The two of you got paired together for a group project near the beginning of the semester, and considering the near perfect grade you achieved with surprisingly little effort compared to most group projects, Lip hadn’t spent much time debating when you asked if he wanted to be your ‘study buddy’. Plus, he had to admit your time management skills greatly outshined his, hence the project running so smoothly. Sure, he had the natural intellect, but staying on top of things that weren’t survival-related was not Gallagher-forte.

But you kept him in line. He had never seen someone spend so much time organising their google calendar of all things. It was your ‘magnum opus’, you told him when he first questioned the colour-coordinated schedule, and he was starting to get why. Without fail you met three times a week, three hours at a time. If Lip had to cancel or cut a session early, another was scheduled to replace it before the hour’s end. Part of him hated it, little miss life together’s hounding on availability, but he couldn’t deny his more recent grades were too good to complain. And he also couldn’t deny your company was much nicer than most on campus, both in the talking sense and the visual department. Sure, your mind was great, but he didn’t mind the face stuck in front of it either.

“Coffee delivery!” Your cheery voice mock-whispered, sliding into your seat across from Lip and placing the cardboard tray of to-go cups inbetween you. The library’s fourth floor was practically empty, or at least the corner you two had tucked yourselves away in was. Seven pm on a sunday wasn’t usually prime study-time, but with Lip’s work-study, your own obligations, and class, it was a surprisingly good fit for you guys. Plus, the quietness made it much easier to focus.

“Thanks,” Lip didn’t look up from his book, one hand scribbling out nonsense into a notebook and the other grabbing a coffee. It was only after he took a sip did he look up, meeting your eyes with a look of offence. “The hell’s this? I told you, black, two sugars, none-”

“Of that cream shit, I know.” You finished, smiling wide as you recalled his very precise order. Your smile turning a little mean, you swapped your cups, bestowing Lip his beloved cream-free coffee, “Wanted you to learn to look up when you grab a hot beverage through a consequence that didn’t involve burning your hand or spilling coffee all over my notes.” With a wink, you happily took a sip of your flat white.

Lip bit his tongue, fighting back a smile at how proud you looked at your little coffee-swap-prank. It was admittedly cute as fuck, but he couldn’t exactly give you the satisfaction of acknowledging that. Instead, he hid his smile behind his coffee, relishing in the taste of its bitterness. This was how coffee was meant to be, none of that milky crap.

“So, what’s on your agenda today, coffee snatcher?” Lip asked, dropping his pen to give you the undivided attention you seemed to be asking for. He could see through your little tricks, swapping coffees was basically the college girl equivalent of little boys pulling pigtails.

You set your coffee aside, pulling off your fingerless gloves and getting your laptop out of your bag. “Advanced thermo. Shit’s kicking my ass, so I’m hoping three solid hours of that will make it… I want to say ‘make it my bitch’, but I’ll take understandable at this rate.” You laugh, flipping open your laptop and powering it on before disappearing back into your overfilled bag to hunt down the rest of your study material. “You?”

“Physics paper. Put it off for too long, now I have a Monday nine am deadline and only an opening paragraph.” Lip answered, nursing his coffee like it was a warm glass of whiskey. He watched as you dug around in your bag for what was, by his guess, probably just a pen he could’ve offered. But you were specific, you had a study pen, a notes pen, a maths pen, probably a pen exclusively for signing the declaration of independence if you searched in your bag long enough, and you were particular enough to not settle for substitutes until you knew for a fact you had no other option.

Finally emerging with a triumphant smile, your study pen grasped in your hand, you return Lip’s gaze. Offering a sympathetic wince, you slide the pack of pretzels you picked up at the coffee shop towards him, “Brain food. You’re gonna need it with a deadline like that.”

A shockingly genuine smile formed on Lip’s face, willing to admit that the gesture, while small, was sweet. He hid the smile behind his coffee of course, waiting til it schooled down to passively appreciative before he dared lowered his hand to reveal the quirked lips behind the lid. “Uh, thanks. That’s- um, that’s nice.” He cleared his throat, hating how he stumbled over his own words, “I, uh, can still walk you back to your dorm at ten, I’ll just head back here after.” Lip always walked you home after your evening sessions, the late hour and dark skies didn’t exactly make a safe environment for a girl like you, or any girl really, to wander around in.

You shake your head, “No, no, I’ll stick around. If you’re pulling an all-nighter I will too, could probably do with one to get my head around this stuff. We’re in this together, gotta keep you company, right?” You tilt your head, smiling at him.

Your smile’s returned, his grin almost dopey. He nods, messy curls bouncing in time, “Yeah, yeah. You’re good company.”

[resurrectionist3]

Timex

Daniel Cleaver x fem!Reader (18+)

✒️ - 12/25/2024 🔏 - 01/08/2025

⏳ - 5,563 words

⚠️CW - 18+ NSFW, oral stimulation (p in mouth), no p in v (yet), general smut, Daniel Cleaver and his sliminess (his presence deserves a warning)

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

📜 - A fairly new hire is getting ready for a very important meeting at her job as the co editor in chief at Pemberley Press. To her surprise, she seems to have lost her favorite wristwatch.

At work, she manages to find it ... on the desk of her most insufferable colleague.

Author's Note - First fan fiction posted to Tumblr, I cannot believe it's for this man. It is actually inspired by the fact that I lost my favorite watch just before Christmas - don't ask how my brain decided to write a fan fiction because of it. I did manage to find it while I wrote this so, that's a win for me. Yes, Frankie is inspired by Francis Abernathy from The Secret History. And yes, the presence of an author named Miles Finch does indeed imply that this fan fiction and this version of Daniel Cleaver do exist in the same universe as the 2003 Christmas comedy film, Elf, starring Will Ferrel. Our beloved Mr. Reed will be here soon, I promise. But I fear I must get this freak out of my system before I can focus on the other one.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“Chilly morning in London today, with a high of 4 degrees and a low of -1° tonight! Expect light flurries this evening with-” The cheerful English news reporter said in his routine chatter about the weather forecast. I poured out a decent serving of cat food for my sweet Argo and sat down to my own breakfast. Turning down the television volume and opening my work notebook, I reviewed the notes from the previous day regarding today’s very important meeting, with a very important author. 

I furrowed my brows as I read the author’s scribbled name, Miles Finch, trying to remember where else I had heard of him outside of work. 

My eyes drifted lower on the page to a different name that I had written down - one that made my heart race and my cheeks blush. Daniel Cleaver, my insufferably attractive colleague and co-editor in chief at Pemberley Press. Our boss, Mr. Fitzherbert, thought it would be some wonderful idea for us to work together preparing for this meeting; the loyal employee of several years teaching the new hire ‘all the way from Boston, Massachusetts’. Weeks spent working a little too closely with Daniel, all leading up to today. To be completely honest, it took its toll on me. One can only take so much of him and his arrogance. 

And his smile … his eyes … his voice … his-

“Ugh,” I caught my mind wandering and stopped, nearly choking on my morning coffee. “Enough of that, (y/n).” I said to myself as I stood from the table. 

I carefully chose a CD to play while I got dressed, settling on one burned by my friend back home. The first song, some obscure 80s pop tune, filled my room as I made my way to the closet. 

“Miniskirt and blouse,” I pondered out loud, pulling the outfit from the rack. “Or, black suit dress?”

Eyeing both choices, I tried to decide which outfit would warrant the best response during the meeting. I looked again at the miniskirt momentarily, blushing as I recalled the … effect it seemed to have on my intolerable associate when I last wore it. 

The way Daniel eyed me that entire day was undeniable. I had been rather used to his stares after 6 months of working with him, but that was different. The way he bit his lip as those icy blue eyes wandered to places they definitely shouldn’t…

“No,” I said quickly, dropping the skirt onto my bed. “Absolutely no distractions today. Suit dress it is.”

After finishing my outfit and makeup, I only had a few minutes before I had to leave. I gathered my things, listing off everything important: ‘notebook, car keys, bag, coat, scarf…’

I prattled off  my belongings in my head as I stopped at my vanity one last time. ‘Necklace, rings, wristwatch-’ I named each item as I put it on, but-

‘Wristwatch…?’  I froze mid-list as I realized my favorite watch was nowhere in sight. I opened every drawer, brows furrowed as I searched all over the apartment. I thought of anywhere it could possibly be, and yet, still nothing. 

I stopped and sighed at the new mess I had made in my hunt. Clothes and jewelry strewn over my unmade bed after my unceremonious rummage around. 

‘I wore it yesterday.. I remember that,’  I thought to myself, stood amongst the disarray. ‘Then.. where did it go afterwards?' 

Figuring it would be easily found on my desk at work,  I relented. I took all my things and left the apartment, throwing on my scarf and coat once inside the elevator. 

In the car, my mind drifted back to the watch. After earning this perfect job at Pemberley, I bought anything I wanted. Expensive jewelry, designer clothes, a new car - even my fancy apartment in London after relocating. I could probably buy 7 of the same basic black and gold Timex watch, but this one was special to me. 

“I’m being quite honest, Frankie, I can't find it anywhere,” I sigh over the phone to my best friend. “I looked all over my apartment, all over my work desk, even asked our security guard if he’d seen it. I fear it’s gone.” I slouched a little in my desk chair as I came to my upsetting realization. 

“Please, (y/n), it’s not that serious. It’s a small thing, I’ll buy you a new one if you like.” Frankie said, his voice as cool and unconcerned as always. Franklin Arkwright; assistant to the CEO of our partner publishing company back home in Boston. He was my oldest friend, and the one who managed to get me the job at Pemberley in the first place. 

I stood from my chair and paced about my office, the phone cord pulling as I walked around my desk. “It’s not just a small thing, Frankie. You know how much I love that watch, and I don't enjoy losing my belongings.” My hand went to my (y/hc) hair as I sighed again. I turned around, going to the opposite side of the room when I accidentally locked eyes with him. 

Daniel Cleaver’s office sat inconveniently right beside mine, both spaces walled completely with floor to ceiling glass (I preferred more privacy myself, but the sleek and modern look was just so in these days).

My heart quickened for a moment, sending a strange pulse through my chest as his blue eyes met mine, a smirk appearing on his face. I managed a smile back as he waved, still talking to whoever was on his own phone. He eyed me up and down as he always did, his gaze lingering on my choice of dress; the dress that I suddenly realized had such a low neckline. 

I scoffed and looked away from his irritating stares, my eyes moving to his desk instead. Frankie continued on in my ear about something his mother had said as I scanned the organized mess of Daniel’s workspace. Stacked papers and folders, pens and pencils, a paper coffee cup, my watch, a stapler-

My watch?

My eyes widened at the undeniable sight of my wristwatch sitting on the desk of none other than Daniel fucking Cleaver. The black leather wristband and gold rimmed clock face was recognizable even from where I stood. I looked back up to him as he paced about his own office, talking away on his phone. He seemed either unaware that it was there, or he at least didn't care. 

'How on earth did it get there?’ I thought to myself as I wracked my brain, finally remembering yesterday’s encounter. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

In the meeting room, Daniel leaned against the long table as I went over my checklist for a final time. “Right, the presentation is finished, I wrote up my little spiel. Do you have yours ready, Cleaver?” I asked and instantly rolled my eyes as I caught him staring where he shouldn’t. Again. 

“Yes, yes, (y/ln), I’ll get on that straight away,” He said briskly, reluctantly meeting my eyes. I could tell he was very distracted, and likely hadn’t heard a word that I said. 

“Daniel, please just know that if you fuck up this meeting and make a fool of me, I will have your head for it.” I said in a casual voice, returning to my written list.

“Noted. Thank you, (y/ln)” Daniel responded coolly. I caught his eyes wandering again and shot him a glare. Perhaps he felt bad for not listening to me, or more than likely, he was trying to play off his stares as he leaned off the table and walked closer. 

“You know, (y/n), I never noticed how nice your watch is,” He said, tilting his head as he looked at the clock on my wrist. “I think I like it.”

 I furrowed my brows at his out-of-place comment and looked at him skeptically. “Well, I do wear it everyday, Daniel. How have you not mentioned it before?” Daniel just shrugged in response, eyes still on my wrist. 

“The gold suits you quite nicely,” He said pensively, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Daniel gently reached out for my hand, and asked for a closer look. Confused, I set down my notebook and pen, taking the watch from my wrist. Our hands brushed momentarily as I set the watch in his palm, making my heart skip annoyingly. As he examined it, I went back to my list and finished going over everything for tomorrow. 

Before I could say another word to Daniel, Mr. Fitzherbert had entered and asked for me. The last thing I remembered was taking my notebook and pen, and hurrying out - leaving my favorite watch with Daniel. Fucking. Cleaver. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“(y/n)...? (Y/N)??” Frankie repeated over the phone, taking me out of my memory. “Are you still there, babe?” 

I let out a laugh and took a breath as I realized I was still on the phone with him. “Y-yea, I’m still here, Frankie.. But I think I should go. I, uhm, I found my watch.”

Without another word, I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Daniel had also finished his own phone call and was standing by the window, reading some documents. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as I contemplated actually going over there. After all, it IS just a watch. But, it was still my favorite one. 

I readjusted my dress and made my way to Daniel’s office, entering politely. “Afternoon, Mr. Cleaver,” I said with the nicest smile I could manage. “Today’s the day! Big meeting with Miles Finch. I hope you’re ready!” 

Daniel flashed me a smile - that terribly charming smile of his. “Good afternoon to you, Miss (y/ln). To what do I owe this lovely intrusion?” 

From the look he gave me I could tell, he knew what I was there for.  My eyes went from him to my watch, sat right on his desk beside his computer, almost displayed like some kind of trophy. I lost my fake smile and relaxed, crossing my arms. “I’m here to see if you're prepared. And to take my watch back; I’ve been looking for it all morning.” 

Daniel looked confused and taken aback by my statement. “Your watch..? (y/ln), you must be barking, I don’t have your watch.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him and walked towards his desk. I wasn’t in any mood for his games today. “Yes, Daniel. This watch, it’s mine.” I reached out to take it, just as he bent over the desk and picked it up himself. 

“Oh, this watch? Odd, what is it doing here? Are you sure it’s yours?” Daniel said while he examined it just like he did the day prior. I rolled my eyes at him and his antics. 

“Yesterday.. The meeting room? You asked to see it and then I had to go.” I recalled briefly, still irritated with his little act. “I really have been looking for it all morning, I’ve been worried half to death.” 

Daniel’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Half to death? God, (y/ln), it’s just a watch,” He said, turning it over in his hands. “Why do you wear it everyday? It's a bit worse for wear, isn't it? Scratches in the glass here, creasing in the wristband. And, oh dear, is that a crack? Surely, they pay you enough to buy a nicer one.” 

I glared at him from the other side of his desk and huffed in anger. “It’s very special to me, Daniel. My dear friend, Frankie, gave it to me before I left home to move here. It used to belong to him; he knew I loved it so much,” I stopped myself and sighed. Something told me that it was futile to try and explain the emotional value of a wristwatch to someone like Daniel Cleaver. “It’s .. sentimental. Perhaps you’d understand if you had friends of your own, now I’d like to have it back please.” 

The emphasis on my statement didn't seem to matter as Daniel just smiled to himself and looked back at my watch. “How dare you presume to know the status of my personal friendships,” He said after taking a gasp of fake offence. 

I held my hand out for him to give the watch back, a silent plea for him to end this ridiculous nonsense. But to my confusion and irritation, instead of offering it back, he pulled back his sleeve and put it on. “You know, I think I'll hold onto it for you. Just for today, what do you think, (y/ln)?” 

It was my turn to be taken aback now. “What, no- Cleaver, just give it to me,” I said, my already thin patience running thinner. “This isn’t grade school, what are we, confiscating each other’s belongings now..?” 

Daniel said nothing as he walked around his desk and stopped in front of me - a little too close for a colleague. “You can come back and collect it at the end of the day. Stay later tonight.. If you want it back, then you’ll know where to find me, hmm?” He said, his voice patronizing. Yet, quiet and … suggestive. He was so close, I could smell his cologne - a familiar fragrance from Jo Malone. He lifted his hand and I held my breath, ready for him to do something deranged, like brush back my hair or caress my cheek. Hell, he was close enough to lean in for a kiss.

 Instead, he looked over my shoulder at my watch on his wrist to check the time. “Well look at that.. It’s time to meet Miles Finch,” Daniel said with a quick smile as he stepped back to his desk to pick up some documents. According to the clock on his wall, he was right - ten minutes until 3pm. A few people from different departments even walked by Daniel’s office and into the elevator, clearly on their way to the meeting room. 

Daniel walked past me quickly and I followed behind to retrieve my own things from my office, just as he stopped and turned back.

“Hot dress, by the way, (y/ln),” He started, making my cheeks blush red. “With a neckline that low, I’m sure you won’t even need your notes in order to convince them.”

I gasped and tried to interject as he made his way out to the elevator. 

The meeting came and went, ending on a high note with Miles Finch agreeing to our proposed contract for his upcoming book series. It was truly a triumph; after weeks of hard work and preparation, it actually paid off. The entire meeting room filed out, talking happily and shaking hands with one another with a few minutes to spare before the end of the work day. I was approached numerous times by colleagues and representatives visiting from our New York location, congratulating me and Daniel on a job well done. As the building slowly emptied, I retreated back to my office and opened my computer to start on some extra work. I hadn’t forgotten about what Daniel said. And I certainly hadn't forgotten about my damned wristwatch. 

There were five separate invitations to go out for drinks with everyone from the meeting. And I really did wish to attend. Perhaps for a chance to earn a spot within Miles Finch’s good graces (he was said to be a difficult man to please), but I declined every single one. “Such hard workers, you and Mr. Cleaver are. You make an excellent team, I’m quite glad to have hired you.” Mr. Fitzherbert said when he heard that Daniel and I wished to stay late to ‘get ahead’ on the next big project. 

‘Oh yes,’ I thought to myself. ‘I'm sure we’ll be working very hard tonight.’ It was the only thought I had in my mind as the boss praised us. Checking my email for a final time before I got to work, I noticed a new message. The sender’s name made me sigh and curse as I clicked it open. 

 ‘45 minutes, floor will be empty. 

50 minutes, after George does his rounds, you know what to do.

-DC’

The wall clock ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace. A few times, I even caught myself instinctually turning my wrist to check the time, and cursing under my breath when I found nothing there. When the time finally arrived, George, the security guard walked casually past my glass-walled office. We exchanged polite waves and I watched him walk through the room and out, heading for the stairwell. I recognized my moment, and turned off my computer. I took my things as if I were ready to leave: packed my notebook and pen into my bag, gathered up my coat and scarf, and made the dreadful walk of shame to Daniel’s office door. I felt his eyes on me as I hesitated outside, wondering again if this was all really worth it. I knew I wasn’t just going to walk in, collect my trinket, and go. It would never be that easy with Daniel. 

“About time, (y/ln), took you long enough to finally open the door. Having second thoughts?” Daniel said, without looking up from his computer screen. 

“Actually, yes,” I confessed, putting my belongings down on the chair by the door. “Am I going to regret coming in here, Cleaver..?” I gave him a sincere look of worry. His expression visibly softened as he stood from his desk and walked over. He stopped in front of me, just like he had done earlier. Except this time, there was no one around to see us. No one to watch him do something deranged… like brushing back my hair, or caressing my cheek. Or..

“Daniel,” I whispered, pulling away when he leaned in. My hand went to his chest, ghosting against the bare skin where his dress shirt was left unbuttoned. “Please - don’t risk our positions, or our jobs, for this silliness.” Daniel responded with a soft smile as his hand went to my cheek, caressing it gently. 

“It’s only a problem if we’re caught, (y/n).” Daniel began, his other hand trailing slowly up my side and to my waist. He pulled me against him and I stumbled a little, falling against Daniel’s chest and fully into his arms - right where he wanted me. “And if we are, which we won’t be, I’ll take the blame. It’s my idea after all. I’ll risk my position and my job… not yours.”

Somehow, Daniel’s own version of a sacrifice was endearing enough to make me blush furiously. I opened my mouth to protest, just to be met with his thumb gliding gently over my bottom lip. “It’s alright, (y/n),” He whispered with an amused smile on his face. He winked and I couldn't help but return the smile. Daniel backed away briefly, pulling me by the arm to his desk where I settled against it. He resumed his place in front of me, pulling me back into his embrace. “I’ve got it all figured out… and I've got you.”

I felt myself physically relax at Daniel’s words - more relaxed than I’ve ever felt while being with him. I raised my eyebrows at his statement, sighing against his lips. “You always have everything figured out, don't you Daniel?” Before he could give me one of his clever responses, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. Just to shut him up. 

His hand settled on my hip, keeping me pinned against his desk. I let my own hands move up his chest, and over his shoulders. One hand rest on the back of his neck, while the other went up into his hair, getting tangled in his dark locks. He let out a moan against my lips, and I couldn't help my mischievous smile.

“Excuse my enthusiasm, (y/n),” Daniel began, pulling away only enough to form words. “But I have been fucking dying to get you like this since the day I met you.” It was my turn to be amused now. I smiled and bit my bottom lip, delighted to see him this flustered. “Oh, I can tell, Daniel,” The feeling of his growing erection against me was enough to know that he was serious. I let my hands fall from their work in his hair, dropping one to his shoulder and the other to the desk behind me. It rested beside Daniel’s left hand, my fingers ghosting over his. “To make a confession of my own, I’ve always found you rather attractive - hot as fuck, even. But your insufferable arrogance was often far to much for me to bear.” 

Daniel laughed against my neck as he dipped down to kiss the sensitive skin there, earning a breathy moan from me. I moved my hand from the desktop, gliding over his hand and to his wrist, where I felt the undeniable outline of my watch. I quickly moved my hand up, tightening around his forearm as he nipped at my neck, hoping he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Daniel…” I moaned to him, making him hold my waist tighter in response. My other hand slid off his shoulder and down his back to distract him while I began to remove my watch from his wrist. 

‘Almost…’ I thought and let out a sigh when I felt the leather strap slide from the small buckle. Daniel bit into my neck harder than he had before, and I gasped sharply. He paused, bringing his quest to cover me in love bites to a close. “Don’t stop, please,” I pleaded, nearly whining for him. Not only was I close to finally getting my watch back, but the physical contact actually felt too good to lose. I felt Daniel smirk against my lips as he pulled away from me completely, my hand drifting off his shoulder and lingering outstretched for him. 

“You almost had me, (y/n),” Daniel said while he fastened my watch back onto his wrist. “Don’t make me restrain you, (y/ln). Play fairly and you’ll get what you came here for.” 

I roll my eyes and groan, crossing my arms in front of me. “Fine, Daniel. What must I do to get my precious watch back?” Daniel put a hand to his heart and gasped. 

“You wound me, (y/n), honestly,” He paced to the side of the desk, leaning on it bringing our faces inches apart once again. “I had hoped that what you wanted from me wasn't just your watch.” 

“Daniel-” I scolded, as if he were a child. He was surely acting like one. He just laughed and held up his hands in surrender after taking a step away. “Alright, (y/ln), alright. I need you to do something for me. A favor, I suppose.” His voice dropped in volume as he finished. I chewed the inside of my lip, eyeing him cautiously. 

“Like what? Take over a project for you? Cover for you while you run off to some broom closet or storage room with one of the interns?” Daniel approached me with that damned smile on his face again. The one that first made my heart race. The one that could convince me to do anything. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d be running off with anyone other than you, (y/ln). But no, nothing like that,” He paused, seemingly thinking. His tongue traced his bottom lip as his eyes scanned over my face while his hand absentmindedly rubbed my thigh beneath my skirt. “Well, you are quite good with this mouth of yours.” 

My eyes widened and my lips parted in my shock. ‘Oh, surely not.’ 

“I don’t suppose you mean I have a chance of talking my way out of this?” I asked, trying desperately to avoid what I knew he was implying. Daniel shook his head, still enamored by me as he resumed his kissing along my jaw and down my neck. “Come now, (y/n), don’t play innocent. It’s a poor act, and it doesn't look good on you.” 

He kisses and roughly nips at a spot just below my jaw, making me crane my head back and sigh. He pulled away again and looked at me. I had never seen his blue eyes look so dark. 

‘No. No. No way. Tell him no, say-’

“Fine,” I nodded to Daniel’s desk chair, telling him to sit as I pulled my hair back. I bit my lip to hide a smile as he scrambled to take his seat. I stole a pen off his desk and stuck it into my makeshift updo, securing it in place. 

I left my spot on the front of the desk, rounding it to stand between Daniel’s legs. The outline of his cock was apparent even through his dark trousers as I lowered myself down between his legs. The only sounds for a moment were heavy breaths and Daniel’s zipper sliding down. He shifted in his seat, pushing his trousers down slightly. I took a breath and paused when I slid my fingers around the waistband of his underwear. I hesitated for a moment, making Daniel hum in amusement from above me. I looked up at him, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re really doing this, (y/n)?” He said, surely meaning to challenge me. His arm was propped by his elbow on the armrest of the desk chair. My Timex watch sat, still fastened to Daniel’s wrist, looking almost like it was meant to be there. The gold hardware glinted in the low lights in the office and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of Daniel Fucking Cleaver keeping one of my most treasured possessions forever. “Of course I am,” I say, settling onto my knees and slowly letting my hands slide under Daniel’s dress shirt, up and down the sides of his torso. “I want my fucking watch back.”

Daniel nodded and readjusted himself in his seat, leaning back like a king on his throne. “Go on then Miss (y/ln). Use that pretty mouth of yours… take what you came here for.” I smiled back and rolled my eyes, letting my gaze settle on Daniel and his endearing grin. “Yes, right away, Mr. Cleaver.”

I slid my fingers into his waistband again and pulled them, no hesitation this time. My eyes widened a bit when his cock sprang free from its constraints. He was admittedly very large. Daniel let out a groan as I took him in hand and licked his tip playfully. I continued my teasing, enjoying the sounds of Daniel nearly whimpering. 

“O-ohhh, (y/n).. enough of that, please.” He begged, dropping his left hand to my face. Daniel held my chin up with one, and with the other began to stroke his cock, positioning it in front of my mouth. “No more teasing if you want your watch back.” I nodded obediently, which pleased him. 

“Now, (y/n), if you’d be so kind, just- ohhh, fuck,” Happy to quiet him, I took him into my mouth, going as deep as I comfortably could. I breathed slowly and deliberately, ensuring that I didn’t choke too severely. 

I felt Daniel’s hand snake around to the back my neck and hold me, tangling into the hair at the base. I moaned as he began to guide my head back and forth; slowly and gently. I shut my eyes for a moment, focusing on my breathing again. He was so much … more than what I had experienced in the past, and I was not accustomed to it. 

I felt Daniel move his hand from my chin and I opened my eyes slowly. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his groans and whispers filling his office space. I pulled off his cock and trailed my tongue along the length of it, earning a hiss and a long moan of my name. I looked up again, hoping to catch his gaze and instead was met with the clockface of my watch on his wrist as his hand held the base of his cock. I stared at it before me, as I closed my lips around him again. 

‘He’s doing it on purpose, surely,’ I thought as his moans became a bit louder. 

“(y/n), fuck. I’m close, darling, so close-” Daniel groaned, his hold tightening on the back of my neck. I hummed and hollowed my cheeks as I took him, enjoying the sounds of his cries. 

I glanced up through my eyelashes and watched as he reached his climax, finishing into my mouth. I shut my eyes, swallowing what I could as Daniel’s hold on my neck loosened completely and his hand fell while he relaxed. 

“God, you are good Miss (y/ln). Fuck,” He groaned, fixing his clothes and redressing. I paused and patted his thigh gently, while I turned and spit the rest of his cum into the wastebin beneath his desk. Daniel watched as I casually stood and wiped at my mouth, rubbing off what remained of my lipstick. “Too much for you, darling?” He said, making me roll my eyes. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the chair’s armrests. My lips grazed Daniel’s tauntingly as I let my tongue glide over his bottom lip. “Is there anything else you require of me, Mr. Cleaver?” I asked with the best demure voice I could manage. 

Daniel groaned again, seemingly close to giving into me. “(y/n), darling…” He whispered, holding my face gently. “I thought I told you the innocent act isn’t your thing. Besides, as badly as I need to bend you over and fuck you on this desk, George’s next round is going to start soon and I’m confident that you don’t want him to find us like that.”

I stood and let him stand from his chair. “How do you know the security guard’s patrolling routine so well?” 

Daniel grinned. “My sweet, (y/n), why do you think?”

I didn’t give him an answer. Instead I scoffed at him and fixed the collar of my dress, crossing the room to pick up my belongings. “Oh, now I’ve earned the silent treatment have I?” Daniel leaned against his desk, watching me put on my scarf and coat. I failed to hide a smile when I watched him attempt to seem as though he wasn’t crying my name a moment ago. I crossed the room again, back over to Daniel and extended my hand wordlessly. He rolled his eyes and sighed, carefully removing the watch on his wrist. 

He lowered it into my palm and I nodded. “Thank y-,”

“On second thought,” Daniel began, cutting me off and pulling my watch away again. “I think I’ll hold onto it a little bit longer. Just until tomorrow evening, that alright, (y/ln)?”

My cheeks went warm while I watched him put the watch into his pocket and put on his own coat. I huffed, admittedly like a child, and crossed my arms. “Oh, was I not good enough?” I asked, a little too loudly. He shook his head. 

“Oh no, darling, you were wonderful. Too good for me to let this little game end right now. What do you say to … The Ritz? Tomorrow evening?” Daniel took his own things and walked to the door of his office. “I do owe you after all. I fear I’ve robbed you of a lovely night of drinks with our colleagues.”

I followed him out of the room and over to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. “I'd say I've never been,” I confessed. “You do know you can ask me out to dinner without holding my wristwatch hostage, right?”

Daniel shrugged, sliding his arm around my waist as we watched the numbers of the floors descend. “Sure, but this is just more fun,” He leaned down, his lips grazing against my ear as he whispered, making my chest tighten. “It’s like getting back at you for those revealing outfits you’ve been wearing here - especially that little miniskirt you have.” I shivered as his fingers made gentle circles on my waist. 

He lifted his head, and stood up straight just in time for the doors to open again. George was indeed on his second round of the empty building, having left the other security guard at the front desk. We waved goodbye and were met with a cold wind beyond the front doors of Pemberley Press, the flurries mentioned on the news this morning already making their appearance. I paused to button up my coat, as Daniel examined my Timex watch yet again. 

“You know, (y/ln), I really do think this watch suits me nearly as well as it suits you.” He said, putting it back into the pocket of his trousers. I rolled my eyes and faced him. “Oh sure. Perhaps once we’re all done here you can get one of your OWN.” I heard Daniel’s laugh echoing behind me as I walked away from him. As I reached my car, I got inside and started it up wondering how on earth I was going to explain this situation to Frankie when I called him on the phone at my apartment.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

I hope you all enjoyed!! Potentially scheming a Part II at some point, but please let me know what you think!

[celeluwhenfics]

The state of my desk when trying to write a double canon compliant fic

The cover of this edition of Persuasion is so ugly, I don't even feel bad highlighting and scribbling all over it 🩱

Trying to not look too often at Tolkien because the beauty of his sentences paralyzes my writing 😰

The Elements of Eloquence for when I need help to English convincingly 😶

Scrivener to keep track of 50k+ words of notes and drafts ✒️

Icelandic folksongs because that's definitely what the Eorlingas are singing 🎻

Not pictured: a WordHippo tab open at all times 🦛

[rubberduckrobin]

𝙍𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. ✒️

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Paring: Kaveh x Alhaitham

Type: Slow-burn, angst, in-character and lore accurate,

Summary: Two roommates, two diaries. Kaveh started a diary to understand himself. Alhaitham found himself writing in his to understand Kaveh.

Chapter word count (1/10): Around 2.8k

Author's note: And they were roommates :)

AO3 Link Here

TW: Alcohol abuse, death.

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 1: 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙.

Kaveh 

August 3rd, Around 11:00 PM

It feels too much like a cliché to start this with ‘dear diary’, but I don’t know how to begin. I’m starting this from Tighnari’s suggestion that I should write to keep track of my work and thoughts, and although it’s helpful, it’s embarrassing, especially if I’m going to get too carried away. Spilling all of my secrets to be read by whoever finds it. Not that I have many secrets, after a night out with drinks you’d be set to turn my life story into a film, at least that’s what I’ve been told. This is probably just going to be the same things being said over and over anyway. That’s how my mind is. 

I’m not really concerned about this being found, because it’s not like it’s lying around in the public open, rather what’s bothering me is that Alhaitham could be the one to find it. If I forget to put it somewhere out of view, I’ll be screwed eternally. Although, I don’t think he would read it, he couldn’t care less about me, and how I feel. 

I’ve struggled to start this but there’s certainly not a lack of things for me to write about, and in fact, there’s something that’s been troubling me:

I had a dream last night, and it was with my dad. We sat together and sprawled out in front of us was a large roll of parchment, and he was scribbling away with a passion in his eyes long missed, but when I turned to do the same, no ink came out. The page, pen and everything around me turned to sand, and when I went to cry into his shoulder, frustrated, he was gone too. I was a child in the dream, with nimble fingers and a lost heart. It almost felt like an actual memory. 

It brought back that distinct image I have of him. I now think about it every time I go to shut my eyes: the door opening to half-reveal my father’s face in the burning sunlight, and the rest of him shrouded in a cold shadow. The last moment I saw him. The light of the door flooding into our ‘home’ wakes me, and I try over and over to get it out of my head, his laugh ringing in my ear, his voice, the one thing I can barely remember, whispering me a promise, to bring me back something nice. He broke that promise, but I know it’s my fault so I have no right to complain. 

My father disappearing wasn't the end of it. It descended further into a nightmare. I was brought to a new dream, one of Alhaitham, of all people, but it was not where he tormented me or even hurt me. He died. I don’t know how, it was more of a realist dream where someone just came and told me the news and left it at that.  

I hadn’t been so scared of death since my father passed.  I woke up almost choked with tears. I don’t know why I was so shaken, I don’t feel anything towards Alhaitham other than - how should I put it? -  abhorrence. Maybe too strong a word? This brought me to question, what would I do if he actually died? Would it affect me? 

I think I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. An empty house is worth nothing more than a shelter. I wouldn’t miss the daily fights, or his bitter coffee, or that stupid smirk of his, but I would miss the reminder of our history; no matter how uncomfortable, it’s better to be reminded you are someone than to feel nothing at all. 

And I guess I would miss the slight possibility of a rekindled friendship. Who knows what the future holds for us? For anyone. My mother, Tighnari, Cyno, the Traveller…Relationships are about as permanent as buildings. I still like to imagine a chance to rebuild what is destroyed, to make it better and stronger.

What would he do if it were me that died? What is there that’s to miss with me? I’m sure he doesn’t find nearly as much identity in our past than I do. He might even be relieved at my death.

I’ve been preparing for multiple projects at once, both in and out of Sumeru city, in the hope to move out soon. I can’t let myself be a burden anymore, I’ve already done that enough. I doubt this will sever all contact I have with him; I’m certain our paths will cross once again. I hope I’m right, because I realise that the reminder he serves is a lot more meaningful to me than I thought until now.

I enjoy my job, and I’m still passionate about it, it’s just a lot at the moment. I can’t back away now, though. One of the buildings I’m designing is a shelter for those affected by The Withering, and I’m going to make it beautiful, so these people have something to admire, to take their minds off of mourning what was lost. However, I fear nothing will beat the beauty of the Palace. They say beauty comes at a price, and that project was the price of my life. 

The shelter project has been fully funded, fortunately, and the only expenses I have to worry about at the moment are for interior design, which shouldn’t be an issue as I’ve taken on a few other projects that can help with that. 

It’s getting late. I’ve found now that writing in a diary is quite therapeutic, I just need to find somewhere to hide it. If it’s Alhaitham reading,  get lost. 

Alhaitham 

August 10th, Around 11:30 PM

A sunny sky with minimal clouds.

Not much happened today that either was an inconvenience, or gave me pleasure. Most of my days are like this, and although most may find it unstimulating and itch to find a more motivating lifestyle, I find this simplicity comfortable. If only the world learnt to make peace. This ideology seems more of a dream nowadays. 

I spent my time today cleaning my living space, not that I let clutter build up, rather I felt like moving things around. I even went to browse the market to see if there was anything interesting. I don’t find much purpose in decor if it’s not practical, so I was in search of something that could be of use, as well as to occupy a blank space. I wound up buying a digital desk clock because the one on my wall has aged. 

I also took time in the old library, and browsing some of the dusted titles, I was brought to think of my grandmother, and that book in which she had wished me a peaceful life. I do think that her blessing really has come true, however that’s only on the days where petty disputes with Kaveh aren’t on the schedule. I’m fortunate I only have to see him in our living quarters. Our bickering isn’t as civil as it was before, when we considered our relationship as an innocent rivalry between friends. Now it’s a sickness of foreign views, opinions and plain arrogance. 

Thoughts of my grandmother then brought me to think of Kaveh and his lack of such support from youth. I’ve taught myself not to pity others and the ideal that people should fend for themselves in a ‘survival of the fittest’ society, as much as they can at the least, but I now realise that Kaveh is like a young abandoned cub, untaught; he doesn’t understand that his forced burnout and escapist alcoholism is backing him into a corner. 

Because of his concerning increase of ‘quick trips’ to the bar, and the horrendous state he leaves our home in when stressed about work, I’ve had to intervene slightly, doing his chores for him. He fails to restock the fridge as he used to, he leaves the coffee table unrecognisable under his work papers. When he finds me touching his papers, he makes the opportunity to argue: that it’s his documents and he should do with them as he pleases. He doesn’t realise that I was in the process of ordering them as he needs them, whether that be alphabetically or referencing each other, and I was making the pile neat, as he likes it, to ensure there were no disputes. It’s to no avail. He used to be so good at doing that himself. I don’t understand how people can inflict trouble on themselves, life already has enough hardships. 

He doesn’t recognise I’m doing all of these things for his own wellbeing. Are my efforts ever going to be noticed, so that he can start to rely on himself out of guilt and possibly even realisation of his self-abandonment? 

Kaveh 

August 21st, Around 12:40 AM

I’ve just gotten that final draft off of my shoulders so I have a bit of time to write to let off the remaining stress that I’ve had to push to the back of my mind. 

In the morning, Alhaitham makes coffee for himself, but recently he has been making me some too. It has no milk and it is bitter. As he hands it to me it scorches my hand and he walks off before I can complain! I’ve given up with thank you’s because he’s closed off his ears to everything I say.

He keeps moving my things around and I tell him to stop, it disrupts my flow, but he just gives me THAT snarky look that says all that needs to be said. He doesn’t spare his ‘precious’ words for me, not even a second thought at this point. I wouldn’t even consider him a roommate, I see him as an ‘inconvenient convenience’. He’s given me a ‘home’ and that’s all I see him as. I wish Things aren’t like how they used to be. 

My day actually wasn't that bad. I took a stroll through the city as a way to clear my head. I saw Tighnari and he said he was on his way to see the Traveller. I wonder what adventure they’re on this time! I’m sure it's much more amazing than sketching day in, day out with a backache and borderline carpal tunnel damage…

I couldn’t imagine the life of a traveller, perhaps that’s because I can’t see myself being any happier than I am with my current job. I don’t make people’s ‘homes’, I won’t give myself credit for that, but I give them a safe and attractive environment to do so themselves, so I certainly take pride in my designs. No matter the customer, they will get my best effort. I think I put so much into projects because if I create significant beauty, that is what will remain of me when I am gone. And perhaps I can inspire others to create their own futures, too. I haven’t felt a feeling of ‘home’ in a while, but in making these buildings I can feel the emotion when people interact with them, redecorating it to their identity, forging memories in each room. 

Nothing is as exhilarating as a fresh, empty room, with plans to come into place. If there were no planning, perhaps there would be more fear than delight, but that is not what comes with these projects I take. Even if the building I design isn’t as well loved or used as it ought to be, it’s still there for the unforeseen future, for when it could become something even better.

I do have a lot of work remaining, I’ve just been procrastinating, so I’ll just have to crack down properly tomorrow. As of now, I’ll sleep. 

Alhaitham

September 11th,  Around 1:00 AM

Cloudy, but moderately welcoming weather. No important events recently. 

My ears are slightly irritated; I've had to wear my noise-cancelling headphones to sleep and it’s uncomfortable. Kaveh’s snoring is horribly incessant, audible through many layers of walls, and that’s a result of poor sleep. He hasn’t been sleeping as well, or as often, and I find that while I’m still up in the late hours finishing the last chapter of my book, I see through a sliver in his door that he’s still hunched over his desk, scratching away at his scalp like a madman. 

I’ve started to stay awake longer than usual just in case he doesn’t sleep at all, because all that will bring is more of a headache for me later on. I haven’t caught him out on this worsening habit yet, but if I hear that annoying pen tapping later than two o’clock, I will have to start telling him to go to bed. I’d rather his snoring. A tired Kaveh is ten times as moody and ten times more vexatious.

I can barely focus, let alone sleep, with all this noise, and wearing my headphones to bed is inconvenient. Not only is it awkward, if there is danger I won’t hear it, so I don’t like risking it, although it’s very unlikely. 

Today I came across Tighnari in the city centre. He said he saw Kaveh recently and he was being quite active, going on a walk of sorts. It’s surprising he actually left the house for once. Tighnari said he was on the way to see the Traveller and I do wonder how they are doing sometimes, with their law-defying, near-death adventures. They must be exhausted, but they don’t ever let that show. Their upbeat energy and even just their presence enlightens me.

I also found myself at the market again, buying some fresh fruit as I was just in the mood for some. I’ll have some for breakfast tomorrow, a refreshing start to the day, unlike usual.

My lesson learnt today is that poor sleep results in snoring and a migraine for the people around you. 

Kaveh 

September 12th, Around 1:00 AM

My day was spent on just one project, which I did, luckily, manage to finish just now. I’ve never craved sleep so much in my life. I long for my pillow, my duvet, everything. If my bed were human I would marry it right here, right now. I’d kill for some food now too, something fresh.

In fact, Alhaitham offered me fruit this morning. How could I say no? Fresh fruit is one thing I can’t say no to. How can he be so infuriating one moment, then the next he does something quite nice? All with a straight face, too. I don’t understand it. 

That fruit did put a perk in my day, maybe that’s why I got so much done. I do wonder if there’s any left. I intend to pull an all-nighter tonight, just to finish one more design. It needs to be perfect, it has so much potential, I’m just one pencil stroke away. 

I’ll go get a bowl of that fruit, and get on. These entries are getting significantly shorter but I don’t have the heart to give up on this entirely yet. A commitment is a commitment. 

Perspective change. Kitchen. 

September 12th, Around 1:00 AM

Kaveh goes to retrieve fruit, but in his path is Alhaitham, silently asleep on the sofa, book in one hand leaning loosely on his chest, and his other outstretched weakly by his side. Kaveh had never seen him so relaxed, as when he slept knowingly in front of others he always had the appearance of a statue, arms folded and eyes shut, as though pondering rather than resting. 

The architect sets a moment to consider this rare sight, surprisingly not so tempted to take a photo, his empathetic side in control. The room is dimly lit with a warmth coming from just a reading lamp, and it flickers ever so slightly, tempting darkness and solitude. The light gently catches and defines Alhaitham’s face, highlighting his serene expression.

He creeps past him but Alhaitham’s attention is caught through a creaking.

“Kaveh?”

“Ah. I was just wondering if there was any fruit left.”, his arms crossing as though closing off to any comment he might make.

“Are you up…again?”

 Alhaithams’ voice is dipped in a husky drowsiness that could drown all sensation but fatigue. It makes Kaveh self-aware.

“Yes! Why does that concern you?”

“You should sleep.”, the gruffness of his voice smoothes as he slowly wakes, squinting in the faltering light.

“No, why? I have a deadline.”

“The more sleep deprived you are, the more of a nuisance you are.”

Kaveh scoffs and sighs, “why are you asleep out here?”

“I’m going to bed now.” Alhaitham's brow twitching as he massages his temple. 

“Just listening to you made me more tired than I already was. God, I’m never going to finish my work.”

Alhaitham turns just as he is about to head for his bedroom, “If you sleep now, your work will be better quality tomorrow.”

“Why do you even care? Butt out. You don’t get it, time is money.”

“What use is money? You spend it all on drinks, never on things that you can derive true pleasure from, and even if you did so, you’d be too tired to enjoy it?” 

“I do- You- I don’t have the time for this.”

Chapter 2-6/10 currently only available on AO3. :')

I'll do my best to get the rest on here soon. Chapter 7 & 8 on the way. Thank you very much for reading! Take care <3

[just-asimple-brunette]

Ｙｏｕ’ｖｅ ｂｅｅｎ ｔａｇｇｅｄ！

Write a note in your muse’s handwriting and tag three people 📝✨✒️

A number of post it notes are littered around the apartment in hasty written scribbles ….

tagging:

@codenamepinetree

@millicndcllarbby

@ashxbabes

[tokusaatsus]

t. leo — play it on repeat

warnings: insecurity

Leo can never stop thinking about you, and he thinks it might be becoming a problem.

There’s a constant melody playing in his head on loop, but he’s not complaining! This is good inspiration, something that will stick with him for a while. He can visualise the notes in his head, and hurriedly gropes around in his backpack for the sheaf of papers he knows is in there, somewhere.

They’re a little crumpled when he unfurls them, but he doesn’t complain. After all, any paper is good paper!

He begins scribbling, attempting to get this down pat before the tentative symphony his genius brain is forming is replaced with another one. This happens a lot—him losing the melody before he’s even finished crafting it, the cogs in his brain constantly turning, turning, turning.

He’s like a machine! Albeit a very clunky one, because his brain doesn’t really work the way it’s supposed to… No matter! Leo can already tell the song that he’s writing will be a good one. He can’t wait to show it to everyone…!

As he hums under his breath, he imagines your features following the path of the music. The dips and curves, tracing the slope of your nose and cheekbones with his fingertips the way he is wont to do, affectionately. The crescendo patterns itself after the swish of your hair and as the music hits its peak, he thinks of the way your fingers, fine-boned and delicate like a bird’s wing or a cat’s paw, move idly as you speak.

Perfect, perfect, perfect, this music is perfect—borne from his ever-thinking mind, riddled with thoughts of you, you, you.

The lyrics, too, start to form. Bird’s winged love, my heart yearns. Leo bites his lip. Objectively, he knows it’s good. Everything he writes is. He just wonders… Because it has to be perfect, obviously. If it’s not perfect, it’s not worth it.

And you are perfect, so you’re most definitely worth it. He has to make this worth something, to you. He wants to see that look in your eyes, the one you get when you spot something you adore. He wants to be the one to put that spark there. He wants, he wants, he wants so badly it hurts.

When he presents this gift to you, he needs to know that you will keep it in a special plce in your heart. It’s a selfish thought, Leo can’t claim your whole heart. But he’ll be satisfied with just a piece. Enough to secure his place there.

If you were here, you’d joke and tell him, my whole heart is yours, silly. You’re not here right now. But you will be. Soon, soon, soon. It will be morning and you will show up at his door with a bouquet of flowers, blinding as the sun, and you will offer him your hand.

He remembers. You smiled at him, once. He thinks of the curve of your lips, secretive and oh so lovely. You smile at him, and he falls in love all over again. Pretty, pretty, pretty, a smile like the moon. My dear, I love you so. You laugh, laugh, laugh and Leo loves, loves, loves.

© tokusaatsus 2023

wc. 533 words

reze txt. hbd leo! the only energy i could muster turned into... this. please enjoy, i put effort into it ;_; (spiritual gift for @akinachiri ♡ ily bff sooo sorry i cucked your husband /hj) title is from do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys

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[habitual-creatures]

*Scribbling something down a piece of paper and snapping the paper away in a ball of flame* Well, that was nice of Raven and Xia...I need to go visit soon...after I find out if Trinity's plan works.

*DIS moves an arm so Kevin can use it as a pillow with the icepack underneath his head. It winces at the cold feel and covers them both up with a blanket.*

~🕕/✒️📖

What were you writing...?

Mmfhf

(( Kevin has once again buried himself face first in Dis' paw. He's cozier like that ))

[so2uv]

ok ok rework of shun's powers bc i just need to do a stream of consciousness exercise to make this make sense to myself. tw death bc it's shun

basically instead of visions of people who will die the next day, bc what if he goes to bed at 11:59pm? or 12am? does he skip that day? maybe but yeah no needs to be more consistent, his visions are of a very near future. as in it could range from the current day, tomorrow, or the next week. (1 week is the cap though. he's not a full on clairvoyant)

still having it so that the visions are mainly about those he's interacted with recently because it makes sense so he's not like, having visions of people all around the world

visions by touch are possible, but they need full skin contact. usually they happen by accident, with his powers being somewhat active but not enough to show, though he can willingly do so as well. (why would he though lmao). if a vision is activated this way, the vision will last as long as the skin contact does.

he can still see ghosts.

[aweisz]

✒️

teehee

transcript: you're so cool and your writing is incredible and [scribble] (head in hands). ilysm even tho we don't interact that much

(send me ✒️ and i'll write your url in my handwriting along with a little note about what i think of you)

[h0ll0w-gr0v3]

Does the smoke smell get worse at night? Around certain areas?

*She begins scribbling down notes in a notepad*

~ Joanne✒️📖

We don't get a lot of smoke unless it's the illegal campers. And I can never see the smoke when I smell it..

I mostly only smell smoke when I'm in the forest doing something.