#fevertaste

[steavia]

for @fevertaste​ <3

llydia takes a deep breath. something as small as ordering tea i an a café she’s never been to should be no big deal; lydia, however, is a young woman of habit and she’s not naturally disposed to this type of scenario. the place she’s been going to for years is closed for renovations, though, so she’s got no other option. the aroma of coffee and the chatter of patrons flood her senses as she walks through, feeling small and a little anxious.

“hi,” is her soft greeting as she walks up to the counter, peering at the gorgeous barista for maybe a second too long. “i’d like a medium black tea, please, with soy milk and— and stevia, if you have it...? no worries if not.” she brought her own, of course, if this shop doesn’t carry her favorite sweetener.

[tempist-a]

there is only so long he can stand it. staring at the walls until they shift and bow like canvas in a breeze. enduring the scrape of nonexistent nails that drag over the window, fingers ducking out of sight in a flash every time bloodshot eyes dart their direction. living with the tinny sound of organ music that echoes in his ears from far below, the dull terror of a crowd that fills and satiates in a way nothing like it before or since would. it makes him sick, pins and needles digging into overworked muscles until he cannot bare even the weight of his love’s arm around his waist. ( somewhere there is still a show to do, there are expectant eyes watching, there are always repercussions. )

he is near-silent to slip out of his husband’s sleep-slackened hold, and though he knows the sort of reactive fear that will no doubt clench tim’s heart to wake up alone, mike does not go far. he doesn’t want to, he can’t, like some invisible thread that assures him that if he does, surely they will both be destroyed. still, horror bleeds from him unabated, and there is only so long he can cover his mouth before it slips through his fingers. his eyes burn and his lungs feel far too tight in the confines of his chest, and though he cannot think he just as well cannot hope to rest. not yet. maybe never.

blindly, mike collects his cane from where it rests against the nightstand and pushes himself to his feet. few muscles in his body do not think to form some sort of protest. it is an uneven process to heal from, a watered down, manageable ache that he finds helps keep him alert. he does not give the light tap-tap-tap the satisfaction of another glance. his goals are set manageably enough for the way his pulse crashed through the stiffness of his joints, one he has kept as long as he can now remember : check the locks, maybe get something to drink, do not stop long enough to look down.

what he did not account for was for the kitchen to already be occupied, leaving him instead watching silent and a little awkward from the doorway.

@fevertaste​  : danny <3

[huntloyalty]

@fevertaste; a vaguely plotted starter for Daisy and Rexy bc we’re both JP nerds

Daisy had been hunting for hours now, or was it days? She’d certainly seen the sun go down once and now it seemed to be coming up again. She hated working for the man, but when Elias told set her on the mission of getting rid of avatars, he could obviously tell it was the thrill of the chase that she craved. And she wouldn’t return until she was done with the path she’d been set onto, even though it left her reeling and aimless once it was over.

The smell of wax and plastic which permeated all of the avatars of the Stranger was the trail she’d been following, wherever it would take her. So far that had been through towns and forests once they’d caught wind that she was on the chase. They were trying to run in an attempt that their inhumanity would mean that they could outrun her, but that wasn’t going to happen. When she felt like this she was invigorated, could keep going until the goal was met.

She wasn’t happy when she saw that the trail she was following was getting muddied with the scent of someone else, the footsteps of someone bigger than her following the trail that she was with great lolloping steps. She was fine with that to an extent; the other person didn’t seem to be someone associated with the Unknowing, but she didn’t want that kill to be taken away from her either. She wanted it all for herself, or she would share it. Nothing more.

The blonde found who had also been following the trail quickly, finding a woman who must have been the one leaving the footprints. The way she followed the same trail as Daisy was the first clue, but she was also the height and size that someone would expect from the person leaving the footprints. Yet, as much as the other woman looked like she would be dangerous, there was something about her that Daisy was identifying as like her. The scent of the other woman was woodsy but with a scent of adrenaline that she knew from herself. 

“Hey,” she shouted to draw the other’s attention to herself, slowing her running pace down to a walk as she stalked closer to the other woman. The plastic person might be successfully evading her so far, but perhaps with someone else they may not be so successful. 

“I know what you’re looking for.” ‘What’ felt much more accurate than ‘who’, but even the pause in their quest felt like she was falling behind. She hoped that they could get over the awkward meeting quickly and if they were going to talk that could be done on the move. Injuring each other to compete for who got to be the one to kill their target wouldn’t be a logical tactic.

[lichsis]

@fevertaste asked : 🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick / 🥪 Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse 

     lup      opens      her      eyes      when      she      hears      the      door      to      her      room      slide      open.                     this    cycle,    she    seemed    to    have    caught    a    particularly      bad      case    of    some    bug,    unable    to    walk    around    for    more    than    a      few      hours      at    a    time    before    exhaustion    over    came    her.    there    was    also    the    headache,    the      coughing,      the    fever           -             she    had    been    pretty    useless    this    time    around,    which    drove    her    a    bit      nuts.      confined    to    her    bed,    she    got    visits    from    each    of    her    crew    mates    but    more    so      barry      and      taako,      and    they    would    tell    her    all    about    what    everyone    was    doing.    it    wasn’t      ideal,      but    it    was    better    than    nothing.

     she      moves      to      sit      up      in      her      bed,                     pulling    her    second    blanket    tighter    around    her    and    smiling    at    her    brother.    he    sets    down    the    soup    on    her    nightstand    and    lup    uses    a    small    bit    of    her    magic    to    heat    it      slightly      hotter           -           she    liked    things    a    bit    warmer,    after    all.            ❛           thanks,    taako.           ❜           palms    press    into    her    eyes,    trying    to    clear    the    sick    fog    from    her    brain.            ❛            how    is    it,    out    there    ?    meet    any      cute      locals      ?           ❜

[steavia]

mistletoe -- @fevertasre from johanna !!

send ‘ mistletoe ’ for our muses to get caught under the mistletoe together.

@fevertaste

lydia’s eyes widen at the close proximity between the two of them, at the sight of mistletoe above them. she’s never been one for participating in these types of christmas rituals, but she is indeed starting intensely into johanna’s eyes. she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find the other woman attractive.

“wow. heh, would you look at that... we’re both under the mistletoe.” she laughs nervously, her cheeks turning a rosy color. “i don’t suppose we should... you know...?”

[tempist-a]

“ still up? ” the warm greeting is mindfully quiet from the doorway, both of danny’s nerves and tim hopefully fast asleep a mere room away. it does not surprise him to see danny awake despite the hour - honestly it always jarred him more to spot the rare moments he wasn’t. “ i was just going to make a drink. would you, um, want to come? ” not that he was particularly fond of being watched, but he knows quite well how frightening sounds are when the cause is not clear.

@fevertaste / short sc

[lastwhale]

@fevertaste asked:

📂📂📂!

 1 :  while the outsider considers black & silver “his” colors, he’s certainly not averse to white & gold and will wear clothing in those colors on rare occasions  —  especially when concealing his identity.

 2 :  he struggles not to indulge.  whether it’s food, spending, sex or alcohol —  his life within the void is a miserable lonely existence, defined by horrors unimaginable to ordinary people.  he’s desperate for a distraction and finds it difficult to not become addicted to whatever it is that occupies him most easily.  this is why he restrains his visits to the isles   ...  prevention.

 3 :  if you make him laugh, there’s practically a guarantee he’ll seek you out again. it’s also the easiest way to his heart. :)

send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon i have.

[tempist-a]

@fevertaste​  :  “kick his ass for me.” // johanna

it is enough to manage a quiet breath of a laugh, lost nearly to the low humming drone of party bustle. mike has never found these things natural. he learned early to hollow himself, to quietly keep his arms folded so no one can see how often his hands shake and bleed from picking like an animal pinned in a snare. he no longer flinches when strange hands curiously thumb the rough twist of scar tissue fanning over cheek and neck.

it was still always far easier to stomach in finnick’s orbit, with the way he seemed always to carry the capitol’s eyes like a lighthouse, blinded by his false sweetness and charm. in the off times, mike counts the windows and divorces himself from his skin for the rest. until the point johanna appears to disappointedly ask their mutual friend’s whereabouts ( not sure, not here, with little doubt mike will be finding him later. ) existence lingers hazily somewhere removed and next to himself. he glances to her briefly.

“ sure. expect you to sign my full-body cast afterward, though. ”