#Heat Shield For Thermos

[grillpartshub-blog]

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[brodygold]

The Snowman Contest

The snow fell thick and steady over the Golden Army’s training grounds, blanketing the pitch and the surrounding hills in soft white. Brody and Scott stood together, surveying the pristine winter wonderland with matching grins. Both wore their team-issued white shirts under shiny gold puffer jackets that gleamed in the cold sunlight. The crisp air carried the sound of distant laughter as some of the team began arriving.

“I told you this would be a great idea,” Brody said, nudging Scott with his elbow.

Scott, the British lad with his ever-charming smirk, nodded. “Aye, bro. It’s about time we did somethin’ besides kickin’ a ball around. The lads could use a bit of fun.”

The two had planned this winter party for weeks, deciding that the Golden Army deserved a break from their intense training. They’d made sure everyone had the golden jackets to keep warm and insisted on matching white shirts beneath them for a cohesive look. After all, they were the Golden Army—style mattered.

One by one, the team arrived. Richard, the captain, strode up in his gold puffer jacket, looking regal as always. Ambrose and Ross were next, arm in arm, debating strategy even during their day off. Jacob and Roman showed up, each carrying thermoses of hot chocolate to share. Caleb and Bruce had matching scarves wrapped around their necks, and Henry brought a speaker blasting upbeat tunes.

“Right, bros!” Brody called, clapping his hands together. “We’re gonna have a proper snowman-building contest. Teams of three. Scott and I will judge—winner gets braggin’ rights and first dibs on the drinks!”

The players split into groups with competitive energy crackling in the air.

Richard, Henry, and Caleb aimed for precision, carefully crafting a towering snowman with perfectly round layers. Richard, ever the leader, barked instructions while Henry and Caleb rolled snow under his watchful eye.

Joey, Ambrose, and Roman went for humor, sculpting their snowman with exaggerated features and adding a scarf made of twigs. Ambrose kept cracking jokes while Joey attempted to make their snowman stand upright.

Ross, Jacob, and Bruce leaned into creativity. Ross insisted their snowman should have “character,” so they gave it horns made of icicles and a mischievous grin.

As the competition heated up, so did the antics. Snowballs flew left and right. Brody narrowly avoided getting hit by one of Roman’s fast throws, only to retaliate with a perfectly aimed shot at Caleb. The music from Henry’s speaker set a festive mood, mixing laughter with the crunch of boots on snow.

“Watch out!” Scott yelled, diving to shield a hot chocolate thermos from being knocked over in the fray.

After an hour, the groups presented their snowmen. Richard’s team unveiled a snowman so precise it looked like a marble statue. Joey’s team had a comically lopsided creation that everyone instantly loved for its personality. Ross’s team introduced their “snow-beast,” complete with icicle fangs.

Scott and Brody pretended to deliberate seriously, pacing between the creations. Finally, Scott raised his hands to announce the winner. “The award goes to… Joey’s team! For the most ridiculous yet endearing snowman!”

Cheers erupted, and Joey’s team celebrated by flinging more snowballs.

As the sun dipped lower, casting golden hues over the snow, the team gathered around a fire pit. They sipped hot chocolate and toasted marshmallows, the snowmen standing as silent guardians of their fun.

“Best idea ever,” Richard admitted, clapping Brody on the back.

Brody grinned, his cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter. “We’re the Golden Army, Cap. We always know how to make somethin’ shine—even in winter.”

The team laughed in agreement, basking in the warmth of their camaraderie. For that day, just like every other day in the Golden Army, they weren’t just a soccer team—they were a family.

[goldenempyrean]

hii, for the drabbles, could you do sick kate x reader where they’re both on a mission, and kate is trying to pretend that she’s fine. using “I’m just a little under the weather that’s all.” and “You shouldn’t be walking around when you’re this sick.” 

Frozen Determination

〚 Notes - God I haven't posted in ages, I still have my other drabbles to post too so dw! :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Kate Bishop x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - When Kate seems to be pushing herself too hard so you take matters into your own hands. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 595 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Bless you.” You murmured softly as Kate turned away to sneeze into her scarf yet again.  

The two of you were on a pretty chilly mission out in the wintery woods of Finland and you’d had your suspicions all day of Kate not feeling her best. It was the small things that gave it away. Small coughs every so often, a few sneezes here and there but it was the constant sniffling that she couldn’t seem to quite shake that really solidified your suspicions. 

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the snowy landscape, you found yourselves in a dense forest. The dense trees shielded you from the wind, but the air was still frigid, causing each breath to feel like shards of ice in your lungs. You glanced over at Kate, her face flushed and her nose red from the constant sneezing and sniffling. 

"Are you sure you're up for this, hon?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. "We can always come back another day." 

Kate shook her head, determination gleaming in her eyes despite the fatigue. "No, we can't afford to wait. The longer we delay, the greater the risk of the thief escaping with those artifacts. I’m just a little under the weather that’s all, let's just keep going." 

You frowned, worried about Kate's stubbornness. You knew how important this mission was, but you also knew that pushing herself too hard could make things worse. Nevertheless, you respected her determination and decided to keep a close eye on her throughout the mission. 

As you continued through the forest, Kate's condition seemed to worsen. She started shivering, her teeth chattering, and her steps becoming unsteady. It was evident that her sickness was taking a toll on her, and you couldn't stand idly by any longer. 

"Katie, listen," you said firmly, placing a gentle hand on her arm to stop her. "You shouldn't be walking around when you're this sick. We need to find shelter and get you warmed up. The artifacts can wait." 

Kate's brows furrowed, her body swaying slightly from exhaustion. She opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by a fit of coughing that racked her frail frame. You winced at the sound, and your worry intensified. 

"I can't risk slowing us down," Kate croaked out, her voice hoarse. "We've come too far." 

You sighed, understanding her determination but refusing to let her put herself in further danger. "Kate, we're a team. We look out for each other. Let me take care of you. We'll find a safe place to rest and recover. I promise we'll come back for the artifacts." 

Reluctantly, Kate nodded, her strength fading as her body grew weaker. You guided her through the forest, searching for a suitable shelter. Finally, you stumbled upon a small abandoned cabin hidden among the trees. It was rundown and dilapidated, but it offered some protection from the elements. 

Inside, you quickly lit a fire in the fireplace and wrapped Kate in a blanket, tucking her in tightly. You fetched a thermos of warm tea from your bag and handed it to her. She sipped it gratefully, the warmth soothing her sore throat. You sat beside her, keeping a watchful eye on her as the fire crackled and the cabin filled with a comforting heat. 

As the night wore on, Kate's fever broke, and her breathing eased. The warmth of the cabin worked its magic, providing her body with the rest it desperately needed. You stayed awake, vigilant, ensuring she was comfortable and safe throughout the night. 

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[decibly]

"Is that the best you got, Technus?" Danny taunted as he dodged a pile of wires that had launched themselves at him, ripping themselves out of old pieces of junk.

" Of course not, ghost boy!" The other ghost yelled, throwing a random chunk of metal at Danny, who instinctively went intangible and allowed it to phase through him easily.

“You sure? I think you’re getting worse, actually!”

Technus let out a snarl, picked up a rusty old washing machine that began sparking with neon green lightning, and threw it full-force at Danny. He put up a quick shield, throwing out his right arm as his left reached for the thermos in a now instinctual anticipation of an opening, Just as the washing machine-turned-deadly projectile impacted his shield, it forced him backwards into yet another pile of trash in the junkyard.

“Ow! Shit, that hurts!” Danny yelped as the pile of rusty scraps that used to be a washing machine clunked its way down to the ground. His left arm had gotten crushed behind him, so he grabbed the thermos with his right arm and quickly captured Technus. He went into the thermos easily, and then in an act of habit so ingrained Danny had found himself doing it after capturing an ectopus that hadn’t tried even to fight back, checked himself over for injuries.

It actually seemed like he had gotten away relatively unharmed this time… apart from his arm. It wasn’t bleeding, but it was twisted in a way that Danny knew would hurt like hell once the adrenaline wore off. Danny wasn’t entirely certain, but he was pretty sure that it was broken. That was… bad, to say the least. How was he going to explain this away to his parents?

“Mum, Dad? I think I broke my arm!” Danny yelled out from the top of the stairs that headed down to lab, going straight for the point. He didn’t at all feel like talking around it for even a tiny bit, not with how much his arm hurt every time it so much as got blown on by a breeze.

“WHAT?” his dad yelled back.

“I THINK I BROKE MY ARM!” Danny yelled back even louder.

“WE’LL BE UP IN JUST A MOMENT, SWEETIE!” his mum yelled back.

It was this moment when Danny realised that not spending the (incredily excruciating and painful) walk back was probably one of the more idiotic things that he had done in the last 30 hours, along with not having slept. Maybe if he just told them a modified version of the truth? That would probably be easier than just coming up with a whole new lie.

Just then, both of Danny’s parents reached the top of the stairs, with neon green ectoplasm splattered over both of their hazmat suits. 

“So, Danno, you’re– oh dear! Maddie, it’s time for emergency fudge!” Jack raced over to the kitchen, stumbling a bit in his hurry.

Meanwhile, Maddie just frowned. “Darling, I think you might be right about that arm being broken. We’re going to need to take you to the hospital to get that looked at and x-rayed. How did it happen?”

Danny felt his face heat up a bit. “I, um, went for a walk? And there was a ghost fight, uh, not one that was too big but still pretty destructive, y’know? I kinda, you know, get a little bit caught up in it and I got hit with, um, well I’m not really sure, but it was made of metal, and- well- oh hey, Dad’s back!” Danny immediately reached for a piece of fudge on the truly massie pile on the plate that Jack had brought back from the kitchen and shoved it into his mouth, cutting off the conversation.

Several hours later, Maddie and Danny were headed back home to Jack and Jazz and Danny had a dark blue cast on his left arm that he was going to draw constellations on. Not for the first time, he was glad that it wasn’t his right arm that had been broken.

“Are you feeling okay, Danny?” Maddie asked.

He hummed a bit, then spoke. “It doesn’t hurt too much. I’ll be fine.”

Neither of them said anything more, giving Maddie plenty of time to think in the silence about why her son lied to her so much that she couldn’t even tell the difference between true or false anymore.

A few days after Danny broke his arm, Maddie and Jack got an alert for a ghost attack at Casper High. Ghost activity had been on an odd low for a few days now, so there was nothing to distract them from getting into the GAV aside from their inventing, which they probably needed a distraction from at this point. Wordlessly, aside from a “Wooo!” from Jack, the two of them grabbed a few new weapons that needed more field testing and raced up the stairs, out the door and into the GAV to head towards the high school.

Once they got there, it was obvious where the ghosts were. Phantom’s voice could easily he heard bantering with the inane box-themed ghost over by the football pitch from where Jack had haphazardly parked the GAV half on the footpath outside the school.  Maddie hoisted a large bazooka up onto her back and sprinted over to the location of the fight, trusting that Jack would be close enough behind her. As she rounded a corner, Phantom came crashing down a few meters in front of her, landing on his back before pushing himself back up.

Well, he tried. Instead, his left arm gave out from beneath him and he hissed. Maddie’s eyes darted over to see what could’ve been the reason, and she saw– she saw–

Danny’s cast.

Phantom was wearing Danny’s cast, complete with the constellations and the slightly wonky Big Dipper.

Danny– Danny Phantom– Danny Fenton–

Maddie sank to her knees.

[frostise]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍

a huge update on KF's uniform: louise will now be wearing a titanium battle suit instead of a leotard! the official name for it is called 'thermo-armour'. it'll be very similar to her arkham uniform, especially the cool blue accents and the jagged, black Y's marking it front to back. due to her ability to skate on ice thanks to the 'clicker ice blades' built underneath the sole of her boots—T.A.B had specifically made her attire be similar to snowboard armour protecting her from hard hitting blows, making up for the fact she's not the most durable operative in their operation. the suit is lightweight enough for KF to remain a nimble and evasive opponent in battle. it functions as a heater as well and amplifies her limited super strength to the point she can easily break someone's bone! the white fur will still be presented around her upper forearm and lower kneecaps ofc. the snowflake emblem/gemstone marked upon the centre of her chest serves to easily identify her character. the inspiration for her redesign will be stored here on pinterest for visual purposes.

thermo-armour: made out of titanium because of its heat resistance properties so it doesn't melt if the user is consuming tremendous amounts of heat and is durable enough to last in close ranged fights. if she ever finds herself suffering from a harsh blow then her armour will take most of the damage. it was designed to be lightweight enough for her to remain a nimble operative in the battle. most of her gear is coated in the navy blue and medium navy streaks from head-to-toe and along with it is a black jagged Y marking the uniform from front-to-back. the armour mimics the appearance of snowboard armour used in competitive sports. it's also covered in breathable pads to ensure proper air circulation. the simplistic snowflake emblem shines like a crystal blue gem stapled against the centre of her chest. there's a heating function system installed within it that serves to regulate her body temperature.

titanium ski goggles: has transparent and thin lenses to maintain visibility. mainly used as a safety precaution when she transverses the city in her fancy figure blades and ice trails at high speeds. it also shields her eyes from potential hazards that could cause injury like debris.

titanium ski helmet: there's shock-absorbing foam inside of the helmet to cushion her falls and ensure her survival. overall a tough shell to break through.

hockey skates: built underneath the sole of her boots. can be used as transversal equipment with her ice surfing and in rare cases lethal weapons to slice against someone's skin with the metallic blades.

[kuzann]

Just finished writing this segment for the next chapter of Paradigm Shift and I'm actually liking it a lot. It's still raw and needs to be cleaned up but I wanted to share. Have some Danny panicking over his mom potentially getting hurt. :p Current word count: 11.2k words

Danny’s head swam as Valerie flew out of the arena on her board. He drifted back a bit, for what little good it would do him when the fight started.

“Alright, you ectoplasmic menace,” Maddie said as she widened her stance. “Impress me.”

“I’ll do my best,” Danny managed.

“Begin!” Kara cried.

Maddie whipped an ecto-blaster out of her belt pouch and fired on Danny the moment Kara’s voice rang out over the arena.

Danny distorted his body to dodge the attack. She’d already caught him flat-footed. If he could just pin her down with ice maybe he could pull off a win without hurting her too much… And without getting too hurt himself.

A chill gathered as his power forced the heat from the air around him.

Maddie paused and pulled a shield-like device around from where it hung on her back and slipped it onto her right arm.

Danny flung a wave of chill at the ground at her feet, the ice already forming as it drew near.

Maddie flung her arm in a backhand, and the wave exploded into billowing steam.

Shock overwhelmed him for a few vital moments—when had she made that one!? He’d never seen it before, but it had clearly been designed for countering his ice. Danny flew back, but it was already too late.

An ecto-blast blitzed out of the steam cloud and hit him dead in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Danny hit the floor hard and struggled to get his bearings as Maddie stepped out of the steam.

Maddie paused only to swipe the mist off her goggles with one forearm, then took a grenade-like device from her belt pouch and tossed it after Danny.

He scuttled away, having temporarily forgotten about his ability to fly in his panic. Danny covered his eyes and went intangible, figuring it might be a sort of flashbang as he jumped away—

The assumption was only partially correct.

With a sharp bang the grenade exploded. Danny saw the sickly green flash through his arm and eyelids a split-second before the wave of energy washed over his body. He fell back and rolled as if trapped in the surf on a stormy day, battered and stunned when he finally came to a stop some distance away.

The beam of the Fenton Thermos caught him before he got the chance to stand.

A cacophony of sound started up, audible even through the walls of the Fenton Thermos: cheers and shouts of surprise, as well as calls of “Let him go!” and “Leave Phantom alone!”

Danny’s senses finally returned to him in full as the thermos began to move.

“What do you think you’re doing?” said Kara’s voice, muffled slightly by the metal walls. Even with the barrier between them Danny could feel the lurking threat in her tone.

Panic set in as he realized what his mom was trying to do. He trusted Jazz and his friends to bail him out of the thermos when his mom got home, but that wasn’t the problem—his mom was trying to break Kara’s rules, and that was sure to draw her ire. If Maddie ended up fighting Kara she might not—

“Phantom’s a menace. He puts the city in jeopardy almost weekly just so he can fight other ghosts,” Maddie replied calmly. “If you want me to take my role as protector seriously then you must let me remove him.”

“All combatants are under my protection during the tournament. If you wish to take one home as a prize then you must defeat me in the arena first.”

“Don’t!” Danny screamed, his voice echoing back at him within the thermos. His breaths came out as pained wheezes as dread squeezed his lungs.

“Quiet, Phantom,” Maddie snapped. “You don’t have a say here.”

“You can’t fight her! I watched her demolish a ghost who’s way stronger than me before the tournament even started!” Danny yelled, desperation working its way into his voice. “You can’t win!” It didn’t matter how much stronger than Vlad his mom might be, Kara was magnitudes stronger than him. A vision of his mom on the ground, beaten and burned, forced its way to the front of his mind.

“I’ll take my chances, Phantom.”

“You can’t...” Danny said weakly. All Kara had to do was land one solid blow on Maddie and it would be over... Possibly forever. Vlad had only withstood as much as he had because he was far more durable than a typical human.

“Mom!” Jazz’s voice rang out, just loud enough to carry through the wall of the Thermos despite the distance.

There was a pause, apparently as Jazz scrambled down into the arena.

“Jazz, go back to your seat,” their mom said, her voice gentler but still firm.

“Mom, you saw the news earlier! You saw what that ghost did to Vlad!” Jazz said, her voice wobbling. Even without seeing her face Danny knew she was on the verge of tears. “You can’t fight her! What am I gonna tell Danny and dad if you get hurt?”

Tears gathered in Danny’s eyes as Jazz started crying. His mom could be teetering on the brink of mortal danger and he was powerless to do anything about it. She would never listen to Phantom, and he couldn’t reveal his identity now even if he wanted to—the arena was being filmed, if he revealed his identity to her here everyone would know, and his entire family would be in danger as a result. All he could do was wait and hope.

“Jazz, sweetheart...” The thermos swung as their mom pulled Jazz into a hug.

Please listen to her! Please, please, please! Danny covered his face in both hands, hoping that their mom would listen now that Jazz was crying; Jazz cried so rarely, it always made their parents pay attention when she actually did.

At last their mom sighed. “Alright, I’ll settle things with Phantom some other time.”

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 59: Easy

SATURDAY - WINTER 13

As much as Achilles loathed the snow, it had proven to have somehow gifted him a rather peaceful and productive series of days. Though perhaps it was less the snow, and more… Alex. Nothing else—no one else, really—he’d encountered in Stardew had quite managed to calm the rollercoaster of this past year as well as Alex had. 

Was he thinking about him? Likely not—the kiss he’d left behind had been, objectively, clearly more jest than anything else. Regardless, Achilles hadn’t allowed idle speculation to distract him from the duties at hand. Holed up in the temperate climate of his well-heated home, he had neglected to shovel his 2 acres of land, opting instead to sit at his desk with a cat in his lap and a pen in his hand. It wasn’t a novel he was writing, however—no, his brain still refused to respond in that regard—but letters. Letters to family, letters to old friends, letters to himself. 

But the blinding, glowing sun cutting through his windows early Saturday morning had managed to melt with its golden cheer even his hatred for the cold. And so, shortly after 6am, Achilles threw on a robe and made himself a cup of tea before tottering his stiff joints to the front door. A breath of fresh air couldn’t hurt. Perhaps he’d do some bird watching on the porch or… something. 

But it seemed that someone else had had similar ideas. 

“What the fuck—god dammit—” This was really getting out of hand—really ought to get a lid for your mugs at this rate, or a thermos… Achilles wiped his sodden sleeve across his porch swing’s wooden plank of an armrest. It did not help, and now his hand was scraped as well as scalded. “Really, Alex we ought to put a bell on you, with this little habit of yours, just loitering around on my porch—you can knock, you know.” 

“Oh—geez, I’m sorry, not my fault you’re so jumpy, I’m sorry—I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake—” 

“I’m always awake. It’s a real problem.” Achilles clicked his tongue and nodded for Alex to take a seat on the swing before noticing the six inches of snow piled on the cushion. “Come inside. I suppose I’ll have to make myself another cup now, would you like one?” 

“Oh. No, I can’t stay long. First day on the new job, wanna get there early… I just wanted to… stop by. Say hi.”

“Oh yes! Mr. Manager.” Achilles glanced to the east where the bus stop lay beyond the borders of Strawberry Farms. Even shielding his eyes, he still had to squint to make out Alex’s halting footsteps breaking up the otherwise untouched snow. “Damn. You trudged through all that just to say hi?” 

“Well, in my defense, I expected you to’ve shoveled the path.” 

“Yikes. Me? Big mistake—”

“—yeah, I see that now—”

“—I assumed it’d be, I don’t know, a government responsibility. How long does it take snow to melt?” 

“Why would the government be shoveling the snow on your farm, Ash?” 

“I don’t know, listen, I hail from desert country—”

“Ohhhh, I see, did the government shovel sand out of your driveway in Monstera? Because you might just be getting that mixed up with being rich.” 

“Yeah, yeah, all right…” Achilles chucked a halfheartedly constructed snowball that Alex easily dodged. “Now what do you want? Everything okay? What brings you lurking like a gremlin on my porch this early in the morning?”

“No, everything’s fine, I was just… hoping to catch you.” 

“Well. You caught me.” Achilles glanced down at his still-wet sleeve. It was too cold for this, and he likely needed a bandage. 

Alex bit his lip before reaching into his coat—Yoba, really, it was quite unfair how one could make such a simple, innocent little hand motion look so seductive. He withdrew a pale green envelope and offered it forward. “I, um. I wrote you a letter—” 

“Did you steal that from Lewis? I swear he has the same stationary—” 

“—I just figured I’d hand deliver it since, you know, you never open your dang mail, you punk.” 

“A thing like that! You know, that’s probably the most considerate thing a person has ever done for me this whole year.” With a squirrelly little smile, Achilles slipped his pointer finger smoothly under the envelop flap before catching sight of Alex staring rather alarmingly wide-eyed, as if petrified, at the letter between his hands. “Or… shall I open it later?” 

“Oh—um—no, that’s all right, you can go ahead. Actually, no—yes. Later. Actually, you know what, I’ll just read it to you.” 

Bemused but chuckling lightly, Achilles offered the envelope back. But Alex only shook his head. 

“Man, I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m sorry. I’ll just tell you what it says.” 

“So… no one’s opening the letter…?” 

Alex shook his head again, ran a hand through his hair—a few strands broke loose from whatever gel or product he must’ve used to style it this morning. Being manager demanded a fresh new look, it seemed, but Achilles bit back his smile—didn’t seem appropriate, given that Alex seemed close to hyperventilating on his front porch.

Instead, Achilles pocketed the letter, which seemed to be the main source of Alex’s unusually pale visage, and asked, “Are you… okay…? You sure you don’t… want some… tea?”

And just like that, it was as if a light switch had been flicked. Alex smiled and, cocking his head slightly, chirped, “Would you like to get dinner tonight? 

“What?” Achilles took half a second to register the dissonance regarding the degree of joy that had accompanied this rather banal question. He’d been expecting something much more dramatic—Lewis’ last will and testament, perhaps… “Dinner? …Sure. Is any place going to be open, though? With all the snow? Still seems quite deep.”  

“Yeah, the government does actually shovel public property, if you must know—”

“All right—”

“I checked with Gus on the way here, the Stardrop’s open. If that works. For you.” 

“What time?” 

Alex blinked several times before asking, “6:30?” 

“Sure.” 

“Yeah?” 

“…yeah…” 

Alex beamed. “Wow! Really? Great! Really great! Um. I’ll see you then!” 

Achilles nodded slowly, his wet sleeve forgotten as his brain worked to stymie the confusion currently sweeping his brain as Alex bounded off the porch and nearly half-skipped off the farm. It was quite a few minutes before he retreated back indoors, where he promptly curled himself onto his couch beneath the portrait of two root vegetables and continued to think. 

Alex, on the other hand, was halfway through his very first day as Orange Grove Fitness’ new manager before realizing that both the conversation he had spent all night constructing and the letter he had spent all morning writing had been completely devoid of quite a number of choice key words. And right at the end of his lunch break! Head buried atop his new desk, a ham and cheese sandwich scrunched in his fist as his (Achilles’) watch struck 2…

“Oh, you stupid idiot, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Date. How in the heckity heck did you miss the word—”

*****

This was a date. 

Surely, Alex had been asking him out on a date. 

Now he hadn’t said the word date. But the man wouldn’t have chewed straight through his lip or hiked two miles through half-shoveled snow to hand deliver a hand written note just to ask Achilles to a simple dinner. Right? They’d had dinner a million times, there was definitely something different to this one. Right? 

Stay calm, bitch! 

The clues were clear—Achilles had written them down in his notebook to better organize his thoughts, and even if he set aside his own feelings, the whole situation was still quite objectively suspect. An ordinary request such as this would not have required such extra-ordinary efforts if the aforementioned ordinary request was, in actuality, an ordinary request. RIGHT?  

But it just seemed so… sudden. Surely a near-platonic peck on the nose couldn’t have triggered something to this extent? He had hoped the letter would be more explicit, but it unfortunately hadn’t revealed much either. 

Hi Achilles! Hope you enjoyed your first ever snow day. Or snow week, really. How many crosswords did you get done? I bet you made the most of it, but if you didn’t, that’s cool, too. 

I know this mihgt seem really sudden, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot these past couple of days, and I would love if you met me in the saloon tonight for dinner. 6:30pm if that works.

Hope to see you then! :-)

Best,

Alex. 

He’d have given the man a call to clarify if it hadn’t been his first day on the new job.

Oh, Alex, Alex, Alex… 

Achilles was calm. He was always calm, right? He’d just… act normal. Follow Alex’s lead. Yes. This was going to be fine. 

But he made sure to clean his room. Just in case. 

*****

Alex—well the whole town, really—always claimed he overdressed, so even if this wasn’t a date, the embroidered bomber jacket Achilles had adorned wouldn’t have raised any alarm bells. 

It would be best not to get his hopes up, though. Just in case. But as Achilles trudged through the half-shoveled snow to the saloon, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 

Emily welcomed him the moment he stepped foot in the saloon, her eyes glittering as she took his arm. Haley, he saw, was coincidentally paying the Stardrop a rare visit today, having claimed a booth to herself despite the crowds and its accompanying damp, musty scent. She pursed her lips when he made eye contact, gave a wily little wiggle of her shoulders—really, quite remarkable how up in his business that button nose of hers could reach. He responded with a venomous grin and a raised middle finger. Incredibly impolite, of course, but he was only returning what she’d given him many a season ago. 

Achilles followed Emily down the back hall to where the private rooms lay (So… definitely a date, right?), where they stopped at the very last door. 

“Right along in here… oh, and would you look at that, I forgot to bring the menus. You go on in, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, all right, Emily…”  

As she dashed away, arms held aloft like a ballerina, he took a deep breath, then pushed the door open. 

Immediately, Alex, who had been seated at a small table in quite a small private room, jumped to his feet, tripping over the wooden chair as he half-stumbled for the door. “Hey!” 

Oh fuck. 

Outside of the Flower Festival back in the Spring, Achilles had rarely seen Alex out of activewear and athleisure. The sight of those arms now, tight in the sleeves of a forest green cardigan, would’ve alone been enough to send even Leah’s heart racing, surely. But the lightly patterned, sage button down—well. A man after his own heart.

Alex’s hair was combed back, tidier than he’d ever seen it (though a part of Achilles did miss the casual, semi-messy curls of it all), and as he shut the door behind him, he noticed something more akin to vanilla and cinnamon had replaced Alex’s usual citrus scent. 

But Achilles quickly found his breath and shook himself out of his reverie, taking a step forward just as Alex finished picking up the chair he’d sent keeling to the floor. 

“Hi—”

“This-was-supposed-to-be-a-date-but-if-you-don’t-want-it-to-be-one-I-completely-understand-I-didn’t-mean-to-ambush-you-I’m-just-really-stupid-just-tell-me-whatever-it-is-you-want.” 

But Achilles could only blink, lost in Alex’s rather anxious, wild-eyed stare, eyes greener than ever in the rosy overhead lighting. 

Did you hear that right? It is a date—you were right, good for you. Wait. He definitely said date, right? He said it was a date. Confirm? Confirm— “Pardon?” 

“Also these are for you. I mean, if you want them.”

Alex half-shoved a cellophaned bouquet into Achilles’ hands. Half a dozen white roses and goldenrod wrapped in a emerald green ribbon. Not Pierre’s work, or even Jojamart’s. No, someone must’ve paid a visit to a Zuzu City florist. 

Date?

Yes! Date! 

Man, you gotta say something, bitch. 

“Oh. Thank you. These are… beautiful. Thanks. Yes. A date. I… assumed.” 

Assumed? Assumed? My god, what an arrogant prick you are. Get it together. What’s the matter with you?

He accepted the flowers from Alex, and in a sudden flash of inspiration, let his fingers linger on Alex’s for perhaps one or two seconds longer than necessary as the bouquet was passed between them. The effect was instantaneous—at this apparent affirmation of Achilles’, Alex’s visibly brightened, bounding back to the dinner table and pulling out Achilles’ chair for him. 

“Wow,” he exclaimed, scooting the chair forward as Alex hurried to the other end of the table. “I didn’t think people did that anymore. You do this for all the girls or just me?” 

“Don’t feel too special, I do that for everyone.”

“Damn. At least tell me I’m prettier than all the other girls you’ve dated.” 

“You know I don’t like lying, Ash, don’t make me do it.” Alex grinned, handing him a menu that Emily evidently had not forgotten to leave behind. 

“Zero for two. Well, it was worth a try.” God, shut up. He must’ve been more nervous than he realized. Babbling like this. Stupid jokes. Chill out, man. Why are you nervous? You’re never nervous! No reason to be nervous. He asked you out… you have all the power here. Yoba, shut the fuck up! Stop thinking like that! What’s wrong with you? Asshole! 

Achilles’ poker face was near to breaking as his self-disgust began to overwhelm his nerves, but he was luckily rescued by Emily, who had returned with a knock at the door. “No violin today, Al?” She shimmied in with her question, ignoring Alex’s groan, and raised her notepad, ready to take their orders. 

“I haven’t had Gus play the violin for me in 10 years, Emily, when is that joke ever going to die—” 

“Ask him about the violin,” she said, bumping Achilles’ shoulder with her hip. “And the Handbook.” 

“Emily—”

“Now just a warning for ya, it’s a bit busy tonight. Seems like lots of folks eager to get out after the storm, but Gus’ll get your order out shortly. Now what can I get for y’all?” 

A steak for Alex, linguine with mushroom cream for Achilles—with her usual spritely bow, Emily scampered from the room, leaving Alex still red from whatever merciless ribbing she had dealt him. 

“So,” Achilles began, lifting his glass of water. Perhaps a cold drink would wash away his lingering anxieties, though Emily’s return had broken most of the tension for him. “The violin…” 

With the defeated air of getting something over with, Alex took a similar swig from his water before launching into a hurried, one-breath explanation. “My grandpa gave me a dating handbook when I turned 13, and yes, I will admit I followed it pretty religiously up through college, so Haley really got to see the worst of it all, and she and Emily have never gotten over it, but hey, in my defense there’s some stuff in there that’s really not half bad, I swear.”  

“Like giving your date flowers? And pulling out their chair?”

Alex grimaced.

“Well shit, Al, I’m feeling less and less special by the second.” 

Here, Alex seemed to visibly deflate, sinking deeper into the back of his chair until Achilles, rather alarmed by the somewhat uncharacteristic lack of confidence—maybe he’s nervous, too, bitch—rapped his fingers sharply against the table. “I’m just joking, Al. Sorry, I’m being an ass, it’s very… charming.”

That seemed to be enough to pull Alex back to his usual self, and Achilles quickly plowed ahead, making sure to keep his tone light. “But the violin Emily mentioned?” 

“Ah. Yes.” Alex rubbed his nose, preparing his next words carefully as if gearing up for the worst. “Well, if you must know… according to the handbook, I’m supposed to start first dates with a little sort of violin serenade from Gus.” 

“You’re lying to me.” 

“I really wish I was.”

“And you actually… did that.” 

“Oh, just a few times. I don’t know man, my only source of dating advice when I moved here was my really old and old fashioned grandpa.”

“Fair enough. I’ll allow it.”

Alex chuckled, and once again took a quick sip from his drink just as Achilles raised his own. A lull in the conversation—but not an uncomfortable one, Achilles thought, as he took the opportunity to casually savor the view from over the rim of his glass. He hadn’t ever really allowed himself to do it before. It had always felt rather intrusive, salacious even, to stare for longer than a beat or so—but surely now, of all times, it was… okay. Right?

Clearly Alex had put in quite a bit of effort tonight, really, it felt wrong not to appreciate it all… anyway, it was hard to ignore those eyes sparkling from across the table, pink lips slightly parted as Alex readied himself to take probably his twentieth sip of water. Achilles could think of just a few other things he’d rather see those lips do, but he dug his thumb into his palm and refocused himself back to the present. You perv, he thought, his own lips twisting to the side as he attempted to hold back a wry grin. Get your mind out of the gutter.

It was Alex who broke the silence, with a tentative observation of his own. “You, um… you look really nice.” His fingers were locked tightly together as they rested atop the table, and through the floorboards, Achilles could feel the faint vibration of what must have been Alex bouncing his foot. “You don’t usually wear black.” 

“I do in the Winter, you’ll see. It tricks me into thinking I’m less cold than I am.” 

“Ha.” 

“You look good, too.” Achilles threw a nod in Alex’s general direction. “Probably should’ve opened with that, I was thinking it when I came in, but I suppose the words didn’t get a chance to make it out of my mouth.” 

“Oh!” A blush crept into the man’s cheeks as he glanced towards the floor. “Thank you. I- I wasn’t sure, personally, I told Haley I thought the sweater was too small, you know, but she, uh, she told me to shut up—” 

“Always, such a lovely, lovely girl.” Achilles’ eyes followed the well-defined slope of Alex’s bicep. “But she’s right. Don’t worry. It’s perfect.” 

“Well, I can’t really raise my arms…”

“Listen, I don’t know if you know this, but I actually come from a long line of really famous fashion designers, and by long line, I mean just my mother—”

“Man, you don’t know a dang thing about fashion—” 

“Fuck, 0/3—I thought this was supposed to be a date, why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m not—well because—because you’re so calm, why are you always so calm, it’s pissing me off.” With a barking laugh, Alex chucked his napkin across the table as Achilles, rather bewildered by Alex’s uncharacteristically off-base observation, flung his hands instinctively in front of his face. 

“It’s incredibly kind of you to ignore the five mental breakdowns you’ve witnessed me have, is doing that part of your grandpa’s handbook, too?” But as Achilles slid the cloth back across the table, he became more serious, and he continued in a somewhat softer tone. “There’s no reason to be nervous, Al, it’s just me. Just think of all the times I’ve humiliated myself in front of you, eh?”

That elicited a small smile, at the very least. But while Achilles’ anxiety had since settled for the most part, it seemed Alex would need more than a weak joke. 

“Speaking of nerves though, how was the first day on the new job, Mr. Manager?” 

Achilles gave himself a private pat on the back as Alex jumped at the redirection, the apprehension in his eyes rapidly melting as he eagerly shared his new schedule. 

What a pro you are! Still got it… 

The conversation carried them all through Emily’s return with their appetizers and dishes—and it was only after she left (with a rather unnecessary promise of “leaving them undisturbed”), that Alex’s hands, so animated during his recounting, returned to tightly gripping the glass of his water. 

Achilles waited—as Alex would ruefully say—calmly. It was clear he had something to say.

And indeed, Alex cleared his throat with the tiniest cough and, after a quick glance at the door to confirm they were indeed alone, pulled his chair an inch forward. 

“Um. Right. Achilles. So. I thought I’d get a private room so we could… talk. I mean, not that we wouldn’t be able to talk if we didn’t have a private room, but it’s loud out there, and it’s what my grandpa’s handbook always said I should do anyway—I don’t know why I just admitted that, I’m sorry. Um, anyway, all that to say—you know, actually, I wrote myself some notes, sorry, give me a second…” 

He fumbled with something in the pocket of his chinos as Achilles smothered another smile. 

“This really makes me look like a nerd doesn’t it, but I just wanted to make sure I was… clear. About things. And didn’t forget anything, you know, especially after how stupid I was this morning. So if you could, um, maybe listen for a bit?” 

Achilles gave a smooth, little nod that managed not to betray the twitch that had returned to his limbs. “For sure. The floor’s all yours.” 

Alex grimaced and, taking a deep breath, unfolded a rather wrinkled piece of notebook paper and began to read aloud in a rather toneless, slow and slightly stuttered recitation. 

“When we first met, I was instantly drawn to you. And it wasn’t just because I was your number one fan.” He glanced up. “Ha.” Eyes dropped abruptly back down to the page as he continued. 

“I think a part of me knew we were destined to be great friends. And I was really happy when we actually did become friends. I had never had a friend like you. You were so smart and cool and you made me feel like I could actually do things with my life. I really liked spending time with you.

“And then during the blizzard, I…” The paper between Alex’s hands began to crinkle as his grip tightened ever so slightly, but he continued to stare, laser focused, on the scribbled words. “Well I started thinking that maybe I liked you as… more than a friend. It was confusing. I kept telling myself, ‘You can’t have these feelings for another guy.’ I mean, I’d never had feeling like this for anyone.

“But I thought about it a lot. Went back and forth a lot trying to decide, I was going crazy, really. And, well. I think I really like you. Like that. And that’s why I wanted to ask you out on a date to—what? Oh. I think I spelled ‘tonight’ wrong. Agh, stupid. Okay, anyway. And that’s why I wanted to ask you out on a date tonight.” 

With a bit of a sniff, Alex folded the paper back into quarters and gave Achilles a rather awkward, teeth-baring attempt at a smile. It was the most unflattering he had ever looked, in Achilles’ opinion, and somehow that made it all the better. Alex patted his folded notes and ended with a little nod. “Well. That’s it.” 

During the blizzard… 

So this had been a much more recent realization than Achilles had originally believed. 

Thank Yoba you didn’t make a move earlier. 

Had it really just been the kiss on the Mullner’s front porch? It had barely been a kiss—couldn’t have been less romantic if he’d tried. Was that really all it had taken to ignite this? He’d taken barely three days to think this through. Though, then again, he supposed Alex had always been the more impulsive one between them… Not everyone spends a whole week anguishing over pros and cons lists, you dumb bitch. 

“What was the turning point?” Achilles asked as Alex shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. “I’m just curious. These past few days, what made you ultimately decide that you… wanted this?” 

“Oh. During the storm.” Alex shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized… I don’t know. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would’ve been to have been snowbound with you.” 

*****

After it became clear to Alex that Achilles was not going to escape out the back door of the saloon after hearing Alex’s prepared remarks, his usual optimistic countenance quickly returned. By the time the two dug into their dinners, they had managed to roll back into their usual groove, chatting and laughing with familiar ease all through dessert until Emily returned with the check. 

“Oh, I’ve got it—”

“Like hell you do—”

“I was the one who asked you out, I should pay—”

“Emily, give me the check or I’m never coming here again—”

“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one, the only thing you cook yourself is a boiled egg.”

Emily seemed to agree. She hip checked Achilles’s outstretched hand and, with a rather hyena-like cackle, seized Alex’s card before dodging Achilles once again on her way out. 

“You know, the Handbook says it’s proper for the man to always pay,” Alex said, snootily tossing his napkin onto his plate with a raised pinkie. “Now I don’t know what that means for us, exactly, but at least let me have this one, will you?” 

Achilles rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he craned his neck in search of nothing. “The napkin’s actually supposed to go on the left when you’re finished with your meal, but never mind that. Where’s Gus? Can someone get Gus? I want a violin serenade pronto.” 

*****

Haley had disappeared by the time the two emerged from the private room, but Achilles, who had eyes for only one person, didn’t notice her absence. Neither did he notice the thick clumps of snow now falling under the glow of the moon, even as Alex held open for him the Stardrop’s front door and said, “Want to take a walk? It’s not too late, I don’t think.” 

“Sure,” Achilles said with a soft smile. The bouquet Alex had gifted him was in one hand, and he tightened his scarf with the other as he stepped out into the cold. “Just a walk, though? Not a run?” 

“Oh, you want to run?” 

Without waiting for a response, Alex tore down the cobblestone path to the south. 

“Fuck—Al, you’re going to slip and break your neck—fucking athletes, I knew I’d sworn them off for a reason—“ 

But the wind covered his calls and his muttered curses, and he had no choice but to hurtle after Alex, laughing even as he skidded past a bewildered Lewis. He hadn’t jogged in a fat minute—not that he likely would’ve caught up to Alex anyway at his peak back in the Fall—but even despite the cold, he gave a merry chase, sprinting across the bridge until his foot found the soft, squishy crunch of slushy sand. There was snow on the beach. Of course there was—we just had a blizzard, you dolt. 

But even so, the strange sight came a surprise. He stopped to take in the cool glow of the snow, a white sheet stretching all the way down to the waves up ahead. It wasn’t deep, but the dampness still managed to seep through his boots. 

Luckily, the rest of him was all warmed up now, thanks to their mile race through Pelican Town. Whether that had actually been Alex’s intention, nervous energy, or the man just couldn’t help but exercise whenever given the opportunity, he wasn’t quite sure. Regardless, with a bit of a wheeze, he sidled up next to where Alex (who was infuriatingly not out of breath) stood waiting by Elliott’s cabin. The light was on, casting both arrivers in its mellow beam, but if the writer had noticed their arrival, he took care not to disturb them. 

“Can I, um… can I hold your hand?” 

“Hmm?” Achilles, who was still slightly bent at the waist catching his breath, glanced rather pitifully up at the green-clad figure above. 

“I just… I just figured it’d make the whole thing feel a little bit more like a date,” Alex, slightly red, said with the barest hint of a shrug. “I don’t know, sorry, is that weird? We don’t have to. It’s just that… it’s just  kinda felt like we’ve been… hanging out.” 

“We are hanging out,” Achilles said, slowly straightening himself up. “I mean, if we break it down, that’s basically what a date is, right?” 

“I guess…” 

Achilles had never exactly loved the concept of holding hands—he sweat too easily and it threw off his stride—but off of Alex’s blink-and-you-missed-it frown, he weaved his arm through Alex’s and led him towards the boardwalk.

Remember what Elliott said… 

Physical touch was never Achilles’ forte. It’s not that he disliked it. Quite the contrary (well, as long as it was in private). It was simply that non-sexual touch didn’t come as naturally to him as it did for others. Often more of an afterthought than something top of mind. But, as Elliott had reminded him, Alex, who greeted his friends with a hug nearly as often as he did a wave, would likely find more validation in something beyond the mere time they were spending together.

“Would you like to sit down?” Alex kicked a clump of snow off the wooden planks and into the water before laying down his coat and chuckling. “Shoot, I really feel like I’m 13. Yoba, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry, I promise, I’ve been on a lot of dates before—”

“Wow, we’ve got a veritable Casanova out here, everyone—”

“All right, that didn’t come out right, you know what I meant. Although I don’t really know what you meant just now—” 

“You’re a big baller.” 

“Okay, okay, no, I just… look, I just don’t know what to do. With you.” 

“A thing like that. You know how to make a boy feel special. What does the Handbook recommend?” 

Alex began to tick off his fingers as he huddled slightly closer to Achilles on the boardwalk. “Well we’ve had the dinner. I got you flowers. Pulled out your chair. Paid. Asked if we could hold hands. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but later I’m going to offer to walk you home if you must know.” 

“That’s adorable—you’re adorable—has anyone on your numerous dates before ever told you that?” 

“Man, I could beat you up.” 

“Why are you always threatening to beat me up?”

“Wasn’t it you who once said that every child deserves to get bullied just a little bit or something?” 

“Are you calling me a child?”  

“Man, I’m just making up for lost time, you don’t seem like someone who got shoved into a locker enough as a kid.” 

Despite the confidence in Alex’s quip, Achilles could feel the tension in the tightened muscles of his arm. The small space Alex had left between them had felt purposeful—tentative. Even now, Achilles watched as his hands fluttered from place to place, as if eager for something to hold, but too afraid to commit. 

Realizing it would be up to him to reassure a flustered Alex out of his hesitation, Achilles closed the gap, tightening the grip around his bicep and tucking his head onto his shoulder. The whole thing was admittedly rather stiff in its deliberateness, but as he better settled into the crook of Alex’s neck—felt Alex, who seemed to recognized the permission Achilles had silently granted, now reach eagerly for his hand—and inhaled the rich, velvety scent of vanilla, he believed there wasn’t a spot in the world he’d rather be. 

Minutes passed, and they listened to the waves crash against the shore. 

“Do you think Elliott’ll stay in the valley? If his book gets published?” 

“Hmm.” Achilles stirred—shit, had he nearly fallen asleep? Can’t fall asleep in your own damn bed, but everything’s always fine and dandy and soothing out here on this damp ass wood. What’s this boardwalk got on you?

Though maybe it wasn’t the boardwalk’s doing. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’d like to think so. I hope he buys himself a better house at any rate… or at least a second chair…” 

“Have you been writing?” 

“Mmm. Not in the way you’re asking. Does it count if it’s in my head?” 

“I don’t see why not. But hey, I don’t make the rules.”  

Achilles sighed and lay slowly down, his back against the boardwalk as he gazed up at the stars. Alex followed, though he chose to lie on his side, one arm beneath his head, the other resting atop Achilles’ chest as his hand continued to grip Achilles’. 

“I’ve got an idea. Well, it’s the same idea I had before, if you remember those pages you snooped a look at when you were cleaning my house… I’ve got it pretty much outlined in my head and everything, it’s just… well you know. I want it to mean something. I want it to matter, I want to finally write something… more than all those kid books I wrote when I was younger, those were so simple, so… stupid. I just don’t know why it’s so fucking hard.” 

The stars twinkled above them, and Alex thumbed his hand. The soft touch, combined with the steady rhythm of the small movement, slowly sweetened the bitter hollow that seemed to have taken up semi-permanent residence in his chest. 

“Sometimes I think we’ve built up this idea that we have to always be, like, fighting for the things that we want. That if something isn’t hard then it must be wrong or, like… I don’t know. Not important.” Alex was tracing letters onto the back of Achilles’ hand now. “But I don’t know, maybe it’s the lazy bum part of me but sometimes—and I promise, I do mean sometimes, not all the time… but sometimes I do think things are easy because they’re the right thing to do.” 

Achilles turned his head. In the dark, Alex’s eyes were black, but under the glow of the moon, he could count the snowflakes on every lash. 

*****

“Well. Here it comes, drum roll please, everyone: can I walk you home?” Alex gave Achilles a hand as they rose from the boardwalk and didn’t let go as they exited the beach. 

“Only if you give me a copy of this Handbook later.” 

“I actually wonder if I do have a copy somewhere still… I don’t know, I’ve pretty much got it memorized at this point.”

“Because you’ve gone on so many dates.”

“Yeah, exactly. I was a real Casa—Cassiopeia? What did you say before?”

“Casanova? Wait, did you say Cassiopeia—fairly niche mythological reference—”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises. Anyway, whatever, I was hot stuff before you got to know me, you know.” 

“Man, shut the fuck up, you were hot stuff even while I knew you, remember Abigail’s birthday party…” 

The two laughed as they made their way back to Strawberry Farms, taking the slightly longer route through Cindersap Forest, despite the cold and the late hour.

Alex walked him to the porch. The motion sensor lights Achilles had installed nearly a year ago had flickered on the moment they passed the shipping bin, and so they stood awash in the weak fluorescence of a buzzing overhead lamp. 

He was lingering—definitely lingering, biting his lip in typical Alex-fashion, his eyes dancing everywhere except Achilles’ face. And after a beat, Achilles—ever impatient—said, “All right, are you going to ask me if you can kiss me now?” 

Alex jumped—actually jumped. “Oh.” Between rapid blinks, he managed to stutter, “Do you want me to ask you?” 

“I—it was a joke.” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“It was a joke. You know, with the Handbook. I assumed you were just gearing up for Step 5 or whatever step we’ve reached…”  

“Oh. No, I’m not supposed to kiss anyone until the third date. Obviously. Anything sooner is impolite and im… dang, what was the other word… immoral? Is that a word? Yes. Immoral. Obviously.” 

“What?” Achilles stepped back, throwing a hand to his forehead in mock shock. “Fuck, so this whole time, my whole life—I’ve just been a slut? Shit, I always knew it—” 

Alex laughed, but, to Achilles’ surprise, took a small, shy step forward.  “Do you want me to ask you?” 

Taking a page from Alex’s book, Achilles found himself biting his own lip as he met Alex’s inscrutable gaze. “I—Yes.” 

A pause. And then, “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” 

In one step, Alex closed the remaining foot between them. His hands gripped the back of Achilles’ neck, and with a boldness he had been so hesitant to demonstrate earlier this evening, Alex cupped his face and kissed him. 

He tasted like vanilla and he tasted like gold and as Achilles let himself drown in the molten glow of his touch, he found he felt… happy. 

But the kiss didn’t last long—barely a second, really, for Alex’s lips had almost instantly parted upon impact in that wide-toothed grin of his, his tongue peeking out per usual—and the two of them quickly dissolved into laughter.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, still half-laughing as he leaned his forehead into Achilles’. “That was… really bad. I swear I’m better than that—”

“Yeah, all that practice being hot stuff and all—”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I was born so dang se—” 

“Stay the night.” But through the sleeves of a slightly-damp coat, he felt Alex stiffen, and so Achilles hurried to add, “We don’t have to do anything. I don’t expect anything. We can just talk. I just… I don’t want you to leave just yet.” 

Immediately, Alex slackened as a small but earnest smile returned to his face. 

“Ok.” 

*****

Achilles put on some late night tea as Alex took a seat in the kitchen, Voltaire already snuggled in his lap. 

Over the course of the blizzard, Achilles had finally moved the typewriter from where it had been sitting, like a monument to all his shortcomings, untouched upon the table. Not that he’d gotten around to taking it out of the box—it was now sitting underneath his desk, still packaged—but, hey, small steps.

Sitting in the center of the kitchen table now were a dozen white roses and goldenrod blooms in Achilles’ favorite (well, only remaining) vase.

“I can boil you an egg, too, if you’d like,” Achilles said, lips twitching as he slid over a cup of chamomile tea and a tray of strawberry scones he’d purchased from Pierre’s that afternoon.

“Ya know what, that sounds great, but I’m actually good. But thanks.” 

It was easy—so easy to just sit here, together. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. It had always been easy with Alex. 

They sat across the table from each other. Perhaps if Achilles had remembered Elliott’s advice, had been a little bit more thoughtful of a person, he would’ve moved closer—held Alex’s hand again, maybe bump his knee with his own. But in the moment, he was too drunk on his own happiness to give Alex’s prospective wants the consideration they likely should’ve deserved. 

The scones and tea had long disappeared, but the two were eager to use any excuse to prolong the end of the evening—from walking through the schedule for Elliott’s book reading tomorrow to dissecting the latest season of The Bachelor (which neither of them actually watched, yet both were somehow still in the know), it wasn’t until the clock struck midnight that Achilles, in begrudging acknowledgment that any further delays would throw off his finely tuned sleeping schedule, slapped the table and stood.

“Well. I’ve got some extra toothbrushes and some clothes you can borrow, if that works for you. Ready to call it a night?” 

*****

What is wrong with you. 

It was Alex who was in the shower right now, but it was Achilles’ good mood that seemed to be dripping down the drain. 

God, why can’t you just enjoy things, you bastard. 

Surely he deserved to be happy, even if just a little bit, right? Yes, surely being happy was allowed. Then why was it now feeling like some sort of… betrayal? 

Fuck, who is there even to betray, bitch? Get yourself together. No one wants to date a grump. 

He needed to be better. Alex deserved better. Alex, who was like light and like stars. Alex, who was turning out to be everything and more than what he ever had hoped to imagine. He could be better, if this stupid ass mood of his would just go away. 

Where did you even come from? Get out and mind your own damn business and let me be happy for once.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the water shutting off—neither did he hear Alex call his name as he stood sourly against the wall of his bedroom, half-dressed, still trying to duke it out with his own brain. 

“Achilles? What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm?” He snapped his head towards the voice. 

“You’re thinking about something.” Alex had emerged from the bathroom wearing a set of sweatpants and an old t shirt Achilles had found at the back of a drawer. “I can see it on your face, what is it?” 

“Mmm.” Achilles massaged the bridge of his nose and set a glass of water down by the nightstand before opening the top drawer to retrieve something small. “Nothing I haven’t already thought pretty much to death.” 

Alex cocked his head, a knowing look on his face as he padded around the bed to take a seat behind the desk. “Want to think about it to death with me?” 

“I— No.”

“You sure?” 

Achilles uncrossed his arm only to cross them again. “I mean, we’re on a date…” 

“Sure, but we’re still friends, aren’t we?”   

Fuck. 

Always with the patience of a saint. He didn’t deserve him—hell, was there anyone on this planet who deserved him? And strangely, with this thought, as quickly as his mood had come did it fade. Maybe it was true that nobody deserved Alex, but for some unbelievable reason Alex wanted him, and he trusted Alex’s judgement, so hey, who was Achilles to deprive him of that? 

“It’s fine. Really. Like I told you before, it comes and goes…. Here.” Achilles held out his hand, dropping the item he’d retrieved from his nightstand into Alex’s open palm. “This is yours. Held onto it for awhile there, didn’t I. Sorry about that.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you!” Alex rested his arm across his leg to better clasp the thin leather watch around his wrist. “Wow, I totally forgot—I guess you should probably take yours back, too, here—”

But before he could remove the smart watch, Achilles bent to snatch Alex’s wrist, holding his arm up tightly between them. The sharp movement triggered a rather equally sharp intake of breath from the watch-wearer, but Achilles pretended not to notice, biting back his smirk as he glanced at the steps recorded on the watch face—a higher number than he was used to seeing, that was for sure, even with all his jogs.  

“Mmm. Actually. You want to keep it? You’re probably getting more use out of it than I did.” 

“Oh no, that’s all right—”

“I’m not sure if this one’s waterproof, though… have you tried swimming with it?”

“Oh. Maybe? I don’t really remember taking it off. Sorry, was that bad?” 

“Eh.” Achilles, his fingers still splayed taught around Alex’s wrist, unclasped the watch and chucked it behind him where it fell about a foot short of the nightstand.

“Good aim.” 

“I’ll get you a newer one.” 

“Achilles, no, stop, man, you don’t have to do that—”

“Shh, no, no, just let me buy you things, what else am I good for?” 

But he said the words with a lazy smile, and after running his hand through his hair, bent to retrieve the smart watch from the floor. 

When he turned back from the nightstand, he noticed Alex watching him with a curious, wide-eyed innocence quite at odds with the subject of his stare. Mirroring the characteristic tilt of Alex’s own head, Achilles, his lips twitching as he held in a laugh, slowly knelt until he finally caught Alex’s eye. 

The man immediately flushed scarlet, shutting his slightly parted mouth with a snap as he turned quickly away from Achilles’ unclothed chest. “Ah—sorry.” 

“For what? Making me feel good about myself?” Achilles chuckled, straightening back to full height. “Although you’ve watched me swim a million times, you should know there’s nothing nearly as impressive to look at as what you see in the mirror every damn day—”

“Stop that.” Alex aimed a light kick before jumping up from the chair and joining him by the nightstand. “I think you’re perfect, you know.” 

“Aw, Alexander, aren’t you just the swe—”

“Just physically, of course. There’s still some work to do up here.” He tapped Achilles’ forehead. 

“All right, bitch—” 

But he silenced Achilles with a hand to his chest—except that wasn’t quite it, was it?

Fuck. 

He could feel his body heat—or maybe it was his own body that was suddenly beginning to blaze. From anticipation? From impatience? For Alex’s actual hand was hovering just barely a centimeter above his skin. 

Dammit, just touch me, Alex. 

But before he could speak, Alex, his voice wavering slightly, murmured, “Can I?”

Always so damn polite. 

“Yes.” 

He wasn’t exactly sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn’t for Alex to reach first for his hand, tracing each of Achilles’ fingers, the lines of his palm, slowly, as if savoring each divot and crease. It was, if he was honest, a little strange, but he said nothing, only breathed, ragged and rough, as Alex’s own fingers traveled up to his wrist, up his forearm, to his bicep where they lightly circled the band tattooed on his skin. 

Achilles closed his eyes. Relished the callused touch upon his collarbone that burned even with the lightest brush. Gentle. Everything so gentle. 

One hand slipped to his lower back, and Alex’s touch on his bare skin sent a quiver through his body—he felt Alex pull him closer, felt him rest his forehead against his own. His breath was warm, but smelled faintly of peppermint. 

Alex’s thumb parted his lips with a tenderness Achilles had never before allowed himself. 

“Can I try again?” The whisper tickled his ear and a velvet thrill itched his heart. “I promise it’ll be better this time.” 

Achilles nodded. 

And yet, despite it being his own ask, Alex’s hesitance seemed to have returned. A delicate, trembling sigh seemed to be serving as the entr’acte before this second at, and so it was Achilles this time who closed the gap. 

Perhaps he should’ve been gentle, perhaps he should’ve been polite, but he wanted it and he had wanted it and Alex was here, asking for it— 

Utterly helpless, a moth to Alex’s flame. Yet it was Achilles who pulled him in with the hunger of a dying fire and kissed him as if he were oxygen, like he was fuel. Electricity sparked through every vein as his hands raked through still-damp hair, along his neck, his shoulders, muscles taut and tight and touching him back—it was rash and reckless, and surely it was right—

But something nagging at the back of his mind managed to pierce through his desperate desire, and, not without difficulty, Achilles pulled himself away. To give himself a second to better regain control of himself, to give Alex a second to better decide—

Are you sure you want this, too? 

He slowed his breathing, let his hands drop from Alex’s hips. Prepared for the worst. 

Was I too fast? Too rough? Too much? 

For the first time, he found himself unable to meet Alex’s emerald gaze—that precise shade of green had, at some point, become synonymous for safety, so why was he suddenly so afraid? 

He could feel Alex watching him, though his own eyes he kept glued to the ground. Achilles had never felt so scrutinized. So small. 

Then, a hand on his neck. A finger resting below his ear, a thumb along his jaw. And Achilles was brought back to Spirit’s Eve. The first time Alex had kissed him. Had all been a character for Alex back then, a costume. How far had they come… 

Alex slowly lifted his chin and asked in a voice, soft and tentative, “Is… is that what you like?” 

“I—what? Yes, wh—Alex, what do you like—”

But Alex cut him off—seized him, kissed him, frenetic and greedy and deep and hard, and Achilles was set aglow. He pushed Alex towards the bed. Shoved him—not unkindly—down atop the duvet, straddled him and lifted his face up to better meet his own. His hands tugged at Alex’s shirt—god, just get that off—he wanted to feel him, more of him, all of him, he was burning, and wanting, and he very nearly got his wish—shirt halfway off, one hand clinging to the bare hollow of his back—until he was shoved unceremoniously off Alex’s lap and onto the floor. 

“What the fuck—”

“Shit—sorry—I’m sorry, I—fuck—” 

Achilles—ricocheting between irked and concerned—stumbled to his feet, cheeks red, and managed to spit out only one word whilst retrieving the pieces of his pride. “What?” 

He took a pause before following Alex’s avoidant gaze down to his lap, where Alex’s hands lay stiffly between his legs. 

“Oh.” Achilles wiped some imaginary dust off his hands as he pushed aside any lingering embarrassment. “Don’t apologize. You know, I, in fact, actually have a penis, too. I get it, it happens.” Wow! Great job not being awkward! Fucking idiot. But upon seeing Alex’s continued discomfort, he added in a less lighthearted tone, “I meant what I said earlier, Al, we don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

“Can—actually, can we talk?” 

“Of course. That’s why I invited you over, right? To talk. It was you who seduced me, you wench. Here.” He pinched his nose—can’t you sound normal just once in your life—and tossed Alex an extra pillow after pulling back the sheets. “We can… put that between us if you’d like, just… give me a second…” 

Achilles usually slept in just a pair of boxers, but after this most recent turn of events, he thought it best to head to the closet for a t shirt. His instincts were validated upon his return—Alex had indeed set the pillow in the middle of the bed, and was now clutching it like a life line. 

He paused, one hand on the corner of the covers. “I— I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I can actually sleep on the couch if you’d like. I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

“No. No, no, no, that’s not it at all, no, it’s, um. It’s something else. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. It’s… well, it’s me. I’m the problem.” 

“Now don’t say that…” Achilles slipped slowly beneath the duvet, taking care not to accidentally touch as he gave both Alex and the pillow quite a wide berth. He lay on his back, as he usually did, hands folded across his chest. “Talk to me, Al. Floor is yours.”

He had left his bedside lamp on—it was a rather dim glow, usually reserved for late night reading or the crossword if he was having particularly bad sleep troubles, but he could still make out Alex’s furrowed brow from atop the pillow between them. 

“I… um…” A small sigh. Achilles watched Alex rub his face before turning to face the ceiling, one hand still kneading his forehead. “I, um, well… I don’t think—no. I, um…” 

“Do you want me to turn the light off? Will that help?”  

“No, it’s fine. Leave it on, I… I want to see you.”

“Man, you’re not even looking at me.” 

Alex clicked his tongue and continued to stare at the ceiling, but Achilles caught the corners of his mouth turn up just the slightest bit. “Okay, okay, you got me there…”

“Mmhm.” 

“It’s just that… Well. I just…”

This was a mistake. He doesn’t like you like that. He doesn’t want you. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” 

Oh. 

Achilles waited for further explanation, but Alex seemed somewhat disinclined to say more, (though in the subsequent silence, Achilles could hear the slight scrape of what was likely aggressive teeth gnashing). After waiting a respectable two minutes for an elaboration, Achilles took it upon himself to lightly prod. “Is it because… you’re… bisexual—” 

“I don’t think I’m bi.” 

“Oh.” Oh. Achilles had masked his surprise quickly, but even so, perhaps it was a good thing Alex wasn’t looking at him. No need to make the guy even more self conscious. “Well. Allow me to be the first person to say there’s nothing wrong with being gay either, if that’s what it is—” 

“That’s not it, I don’t— well. No, I wanted to—You see, what happened was—I- I don’t… I…” 

Alex’s eyes were now full on closed, his hand rather zealously rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ve had sex before. To be clear. Like a lot of sex. Oh god, why’d I say it like that.” 

“Ah.” Achilles couldn’t help but wince. “It… it would’ve been all right if you hadn’t… to be clear.” 

“I mean, not with a guy.” 

He responded smoothly. “Sure. I assumed.” 

Another sigh, though this one had the hint of a growl as Alex’s exasperation continued to balloon. “Shit. Shoot. This is—well this is obviously not going how I wanted it to— I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying, I just. I’m nervous. About what you’re going to say, and think, and… I just…” 

Fuck, Achilles just wanted to hold him—but the situation was nebulous, and so he instead held his own hands, still resting across his chest, tighter, and kept his voice even. “It’s just me, Al. Like you said earlier, we’re still friends. You can tell me whatever, I’m not going to judge.” 

“But you might.” 

“I won’t.” 

“But you might.” 

“Alexander—” 

“I just—Well. I’ve never been in love before.” 

Finally, Alex turned to face Achilles. He lay on his side, his arms still fiercely wrapped around the pillow, and his face remained troubled—brows knitted, his lower lip drawn between his teeth.

“I was, um, 12, 13 when I moved here. Showed up to middle school smack dab in the middle of term. I was the new kid with a dying mom. Made me interesting, I think. Everyone wanted to be my friend. You know how it is…

“What caught me off guard though, was how many girls wanted to be my friend. Or, I guess, more than my friend, but it was middle school so I mean, how real could a relationship actually be, right…”

It wasn’t hard to imagine a 12 year old Alex—chubbier cheeks, probably, but the same freckles, the same large green eyes and sunny disposition—combine that with a tragic backstory and New Kid Novelty, and it was easy to see why the girls at Meridian Middle School had flocked to him. 

“It was… weird. I didn’t like it. I didn’t understand what they wanted from me… or why.

“And I pretty quickly realized, well, everyone was either girl crazy or boy crazy or both. Not just girls. My guy friends, too. Man, that’s all folks spent lunch yapping on about, who had a crush on who and whatever. I just didn’t get it—man, I just wanted to talk about grid ball. I don’t know, it was like that part of puberty just… never hit me, I guess…

“But after awhile, I think I just kind of assumed that everyone felt the way I did, but you just…weren’t supposed to talk about it. 

“Like I somehow logic-ed it out in my head that your girlfriend was just your best friend who happened to be a girl. And going on dates and stuff, that was just part of having a girlfriend. Like how when you’re a kid you have play dates, when you have a girlfriend you have, well, just… dates. I mean didn’t you say earlier, a date’s basically just hanging out, right? Especially in middle school. It’s just all part of like this script you were supposed to follow—and I mean, it couldn’t have helped that I literally had a dating handbook from my grandpa that was giving me step by step directions, telling me specific things to do. 

“Well anyway… I kept feeling this way, even into high school. People stopped being so boy crazy and girl crazy and whatever then, and I stopped feeling so paranoid, stopped overthinking it.

“And then I dated Haley for two years. Everyone kept telling me to ask her out, so I figured I would. If everyone was saying we’d be perfect together, they must be right, right? She was my first serious relationship. 

“And dating her actually made me feel—well, better. Validated? Is validated the right word? I liked hanging out with her, she was already my best friend, but, I don’t know, she never seemed that into me in any sort of fancy romantic way, she never really wanted to make out or hook up or anything all that often, and I thought, okay so maybe all that stuff really is all just an act, just stuff for movies, maybe I was right all along.

“Of course, that all came crashing down after she told me she was gay. She kept going on about ‘attraction’ and how it wasn’t a me problem, that she didn’t feel that way about any guys at all, that it was girls she liked, and I remember just nodding along because, honestly, I was just confused. 

“I mean, what even is attraction? I’d never thought about that much, not until she was going on and on about it. But when she was describing it, I realized that there was… something else that I was supposed to be feeling. Something I was missing. But it’s hard, you know, like how do you know what it is you’re missing if you’ve never been able to feel it in the first place? 

“You know, side note, funnily enough, after she came out, I actually had a second there where I wondered if maybe I was gay, too. Haley had never had a crush on a guy, I’d never felt that way about a girl—whatever “that way” was supposed to be feel. But I thought about it for a bit and ended up deciding I’d never felt that way about a guy either. And I’d been around a whole lotta guys. Sports camp, swim team… nothing.

“So I figured, well, I went back to square one. Maybe this is just how everyone feels. Maybe I just hadn’t met the right girl, maybe I should just give it some time. Maybe I needed to loosen up. So I just kept going through the motions. Doing what I thought everyone my age was doing.

“I was just so caught up with trying to find or feel or whatever, trying to prove that I was normal. So even though I had a bunch of solid excuses to not care about it all—swimming. Making the Artemics team. My grandparents getting sick—I think a part of me was…. I don’t know. Desperate. To find that feeling that I’d been missing, find that person. So I just kept… you know. Going out on dates. And… other stuff. Just nonstop.” 

Alex seemed to be approaching the crux of his story now. He sucked in a deep breath between his teeth before turning away again while his hands abandoned the pillow to rest atop his own chest, fingers softly tapping between his rib cage. 

“I thought sex was like… you know. Just something you were supposed to do. Like… shaking someone’s hand when you meet them for the first time or… saying thank you when someone opens the door for you. Like it’s just expected you do it. Hold a girl’s hand. Kiss her. Have… sex with her. I didn’t realize people actually wanted… like really wanted to… do these things. Beyond it making the other person happy. Like, I didn’t realize people actually had the… urge to do it. If that makes any sense. 

“Like I remember in college, one of my friends, his girlfriend kept cheating on him and I just couldn’t understand why, you know? Like why was it so hard for her not to cheat? Like, what could you possibly be feeling that made you do that, like, what was the reason, why would you sabotage something so easily in your control? And for my friend—why was it so hard, just break up with her already. Like, why stay with someone who… isn’t treating you good?” 

There was a small pause, but rather than dwell on darker memories, Alex continued steadily on. 

“I know there’s probably more to it, but I guess I just didn’t understand that kind of love. That feeling of… being in love with someone. I had never felt it before. That is…” 

Achilles felt Alex stir under the covers, felt him shift his weight as he turned onto his side, peaked his head back above the pillow like a turtle to look at him, a small smile now on his face.“That is, until last week. With you.

“You’re the first person, Ash. And I don’t know why, I don’t know why it’s you—don’t get me wrong, I’m… I’m glad it is.” He laughed, and to Achilles’ surprise, he reached across the pillow for his hand. 

“And I see why now it took me so long to even realize there was something wrong with me, that I was missing something, because how could anyone have ever really described to me what this feels like? Attraction. Even now, feeling it now, it’s just… wow. It’s like friends. Like best friend, I don’t know. But… different. And I like it.” 

Alex’s tiny sigh of satisfaction sent Achilles heart beating faster, but the rate at which Alex’s remaining hand was tapping against his chest began to quicken as well, and his tone grew more serious. 

“But if I’m honest, I… Well. I still feel like a part of me is missing something. In regards to, well… well, just… sex. Like… wanting to have sex. 

“I don’t understand why, because I really really like you, I do, and I… well I really liked kissing you. And stuff. And I… well… well normally I spend the time trying not to think about how gross the whole concept of making out with someone kind of is, but for the first time in my life ever, I… I want to do it. Like want to do it. Again. I mean of course, only if you, I don’t know… ever want to do it with me again… Shit. I sound 12, don’t I? Yoba, listen to me, we’ve had one date, you might never want to see me again.” 

A rather sheepish smile—Alex ran his free hand through his hair. 

“I don’t get it, I don’t get why it feels different, you’d think it’d be the same thing, wanting to be close to someone, wanting to kiss someone, wanting to have sex with them, I don’t know. Wow, I don’t think I’ve said sex as many times in my life as I have just now. What a weird word. Ok, sorry, anyway, I don’t know why I feel one but not the other now. I don’t get it, there’s just… something wrong with me, I don’t know. 

“I know this probably doesn’t make much sense, because I’ve hooked up with lots of people before that that I didn’t feel anything for, but I just… because I like you, and because I… do want to be with you, I want to… I don’t know, I want to… want it with you. Like, I want it to feel better, more, I don’t know, purposeful, than all the other times. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that having sex was, like, traumatic or anything in the past—no one forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do—I mean, I never wanted to do it, but only in the sense that I never had, like, the urge to do it. I wanted to want it, but every time I did it, it just felt like… I don’t know. A chore. Yeah. It felt like a chore, and honestly, according to a lot of the girls I dated, I was pretty dang bad at it —for reasons that, you know, now make a lot more sense—until I learned how to, you know— actually, we don’t have to get into that—um, well—anyway, back to what I was saying—

“And, I don’t know, I’d stopped hooking up with people by the time I left school. Given up, I guess, just figured there was something wrong with me. And just thinking about sex in general now makes me kind of…anxious. And I don’t want it to feel like that with you, I don’t want to… bring that in there, if that makes sense. I want this to feel… different. 

“Shit, wow, I guess all of this to say… super long story just to ask I guess… to just… I guess what I’m asking is if we can… can we take it slow? Is that stupid to ask? Is that, like, super lame? At 25 years old? Or I guess 28 in your case… geez…”

It took a second before Achilles, still digesting everything Alex had shared, realized he’d been asked a question. It was those green eyes—blinking wide-eyed rather expectantly—that jolted him back to the present, and with a small jump, he rushed to respond with something more akin to a squeal, “Not at all!” But worried that his hasty and high-pitched response (ugh) suggested a sentiment something more to the contrary, Achilles hurried to grip Alex’s hand tighter and said more firmly, “We’ll go as slow as you want. Slow as you need.” 

The reassurance seemingly failed to land, as Alex turned slightly away. “I… I know sex is… important to a lot of people, and it’s stupid to ask you to wait, it’s not like there’s a good reason—”

“—Al, any reason is a good reason—”

“—and I don’t want you to wait if you don’t want to, I mean like, if you’re someone who likes sex and, well, wants it…” Alex trailed off, but watched Achilles intently as the latter reached slowly over the pillow to brush aside some of the hair that had fallen into his face. 

“I mean, I won’t lie, Al. Like, I like having sex.” Achilles snorted, moving his hand down, tracing the line of Alex’s jaw. So smooth… the man shaved religiously, a holdover habit now unlikely to be broken anytime soon with his return to the competitive swimming world. “But I like you more. I think.”

Alex laughed, placing his hand now over Achilles’ to cup his own face. 

“No, but in all seriousness, it’s fine. Thank you for telling me this.” 

“But are you really sure? You’re fine with waiting? I… I don’t know how long it’ll be. I wish I could give you a timeline, I mean I wish I could say for sure it’ll actually even happen, to be honest, I don’t even know, but then I again I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love, but I see now these are different, and I don’t want to overpromise something that may not ever actually—” 

“Al, seriously. It’s fine. I’ll wait forever as long as I’m waiting with you.” 

This time, Alex’s smile reached his eyes, igniting that glimmer of mischief. He gave Achilles’ hand a firm, final smack before turning onto his back once again. “Well… forever’s an awfully long time, I think at a certain point I’d just… well, you know.” He made a circle with his left thumb and pointer finger and began to slowly move his right index finger towards it before Achilles whacked his shoulder. 

“Boy, I swear to Yoba—”

But Alex cut him off with a surprise kiss on the cheek. There was a careless sweetness to it, and despite the comparative innocence of the gesture, Achilles immediately bloomed pink—but as Alex returned to lying down, letting himself collapse atop the pillow, there was one final furrow still striking his brow. 

“I just… are you… disappointed? Achilles?” 

“What?” 

“I know, I know, you said it’s fine, but I just… I just want to… I don’t know. Are you disappointed? In me? You’ll tell the truth, won’t you?” 

Achilles understood. The need to hear a specific set of words—the hunger for honesty alongside the anxious ache for approval. He kept it simple. “I’m not disappointed in you. And you could never disappoint me.” 

It was remarkable, the speed at which those words transformed him; like night and day, Alex was now beaming like a sunrise. With a jaunty little wriggle, he pulled the covers up to his chin. “Okay. I’ll stop being sad now. I’ve ruined your sleep schedule enough and you’ve got a big day tomorrow.” 

“Elliott’s got a big day tomorrow, I’ve got like, a medium day.” But even so, Achilles leaned over the nightstand to flick off the lamp. 

“Medium shmedium… good night, Ash.” 

The pillow still rested between them, but Achilles didn’t mind. He knew Alex was there, and he knew now for sure Alex wanted him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he spent replaying the evening in his head—perhaps Alex had already fallen asleep, it was, admittedly quite a lot to digest—but nevertheless, at some point Achilles found himself suddenly speaking into the darkness.  

“It’s a thing, you know. Asexuality. Aromanticism. There’s a spectrum for both, but it’s all…  valid. It’s all… real, for lack of a better word, what you’ve felt and not felt in the past. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

[loudlooks]

Day 28 - Cold in the rain

A/N: Technically the prompt was “a visit to the orchard” but I noped out of that one real quick, and went with day 1 of the list “Cold in the rain” (I accidentally started writing from the wrong prompt list the first two days, so I had a backup)

Tag for blocking/following: 30 days of fall

Prompt: Cold in the rain

Word count: 1117

The pouring rain was blurring her vision, the cold wind making it feel like ice on her skin. If she had to be out here much longer she would get hypothermia. For the third time in fifteen minutes she pulled up the collar of her soaked through coat, realizing it was nothing more than a futile attempt at getting warmer, drier.

Should have listened to Tony and his app, she thought absentmindedly wiping sticky strands of hair from her face. The app was usually wrong, but it figured that the one time it was correct, she would be out in a rainstorm without a waterproof jacket. Or an umbrella. Or even a plastic bag for all she cared.

For a brief moment she longingly looked at the thin emergency blanket she was standing on with one foot, then wrinkled her nose remembering the body, and possible evidence, it was protecting from the weather.

As shivers ran  down her body and her teeth began to chatter, she wondered if staying with the evidence had been the smartest idea. She hadn't found enough in the field to safely secure the blanket from the strong winds and rain; two heavy rocks kept one side mostly flat on the ground, the other side was secured with her backpack and one of her feet.

The faint sound of a siren drew her attention. She tilted her head, turning this way and that, but struggled to confirm it wasn't simply her mind playing tricks on her amidst the howling wind. Checking her watch she realized she would have to admit defeat soon, the car was a good half hour jog from where she was, and the wet clothes, strong winds and heavy rain would slow her down a lot.

The wind turned once more, and as she wiped more hair from her face, the sound of a siren was now undeniable. Shielding her eyes from the rain with her hands she could faintly make out blue and red lights approaching against the ever darkening sky.

Her laughter sounded manic to her ears, but there was no else to hear it.

The Dodge Charger skidded to a stop in the muddy field, her three teammates piling out instantly and rushing towards her. Ducky's van came to a halt on the gravel road further away.

"Why didn't you go back to the car?" Gibbs asked her angrily.

"We would have lost evidence."

Tony looked at her, anger etched on his face. "Rather loose evidence than an agent."

Ziva was about to argue, but Gibbs cut her off gruffly.

"Inside the car, now!" A small nod at Tony had him following her closely.

As she got into the backseat wordlessly, he rummaged around inside the trunk before joining her.

She shrugged out of her coat, dumping the wet pile at her feet. Tony sat down next to her, holding a woolen blanket and a thermos. He poured some coffee in the thermos' cup, held it out for her, and curtly said, "Drink."

It was hard to see through the windshield, but it was obvious the rest of the team was struggling to put up a cover over the body. "We should help," she said absentmindedly through chattering teeth.

"Agent David!"

She turned to Tony and frowned, confused at his outburst.

"Drink this, and get out of those wet clothes, unless they're wool."

He pulled up the hood of his raincoat, got out of the backseat and into the driver's seat in two seconds flat. He started the engine, and ramped up the heat. Before getting out of the car again, he said, "I'll check the van for towels or something."

Ziva blinked rapidly, then drank the cup of coffee, and stripped. Wrapping herself in the wool blanket, she could already feel the warmth from the coffee and the warm shelter from the car take effect. Glancing through the rear window, she noticed Tony was on his way back, clearly covering something from the rain inside his coat.

A chill ran through her body as he opened the backdoor, letting himself and a gust of wind inside the warmth of the car.

Tony roughly pulled down the hood of his jacket, then opened the zipper to remove a perfectly dry towel and tracksuit.

Ziva gazed at him a moment, trying to read his mood after his previous outburst, then thanked him and started drying her hair with the towel.

He tried to wipe the rain off of his face with his wet hands, and in a concerned voice said, "What were you thinking standing out there with no cover?"

She pointed out the windshield. "That's most likely his fourth victim, what if this is the one that breaks the case?"

He slammed the headrest in front of him unexpectedly, looked at her angrily, and yelled, “Did you want to be his fifth?”. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he regained his composure and asked, “Why were you even here all by yourself?”

His anger had pumped adrenaline through her veins, heating her body more than the coffee ever could, and she testily said, “I was following a lead.”

He clenched his jaw, and briefly closed his eyes. “Ziva,” he said tiredly, “we’ve been through this, you should have waited for backup.”

“We would have lost evidence!”

“We lose evidence to circumstances beyond our control all the time!”

“Tell that to his next victim.”

She could see the anger leave his eyes right before he looked away, and glanced out the window.

Shaking his head slightly, he swallowed thickly. “Do you have any idea how much losing you would…set us back?”

When he met her eyes once more, all she could see was fear and desperation. “I was trying to do the right thing,” she said dejectedly.

As he grimaced and rubbed a hand through his hair, her chest tightened. It was never her intent to make him, or the rest team worry about her. Then again she hadn’t expected to be caught in a storm either.

“Look on the bright side,” she said, and bumped his knee with hers, “you were right.”

Tony frowned and tilted his head. “I always am,” he said lightheartedly, then looked at her suspiciously, “but enlighten me.”

“The storm.” She smiled softly, hoping to clear the air, but the way he grimaced only made her chest tighten again.

“Does that mean you’ll actually listen to me next time?”

She bit her bottom lip, and gave him a half smile. “Probably not.”

He scoffed and glanced away, and when he met her eyes again, the storm that had raged there had quieted down and been replaced with affection. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

---

tagging @hopeless-nostalgiac, @mrsmungus, @indestinatus, @happygirl-0408

[cleromanticon]

I have to say this because these kinds of mistakes REALLY take me out of the moment. Warning ⚠️ contains vaguely spoilery references to Strange New Worlds season 2 ep 1⚠️

Last chance

Okay…

Things do not freeze instantly in space.

They actually freeze fairly slowly. Heat needs a conductor. Space is a vacuum. We use vacuums as insulation for this reason (hi Thermos). Space isn’t even cold; technically it has no temperature at all.

You won’t freeze. However you MUST exhale before going into the vacuum. Otherwise the rapid decompression of your lungs is going to… kinda… burst them. Ain’t no transporter pad CPR going to bring you back from that.

If you’re anywhere near a star or other radiation source, you’re going to have serious radiation burns. Think sunburn without ANY atmosphere between you and the sun. So you really need to worry about shielding from burns much more than you do about cold.

I wanted to enjoy a certain moment but was too distracted by mountains of fake snow that had no reason to be in someone’s hair.

[superfantasticgals]

                                               Hot-Ice

Once upon a time, there was Brenda Brooks, a newly graduated pharmacist who, while studying to be a pharmacist, took part in testing a new drug for skin conditions. Little did she know that this drug would change the very core of her being, giving her the incredible powers she would later wield.

 During the drug test, no results were gained, but the drug had unknowingly altered her biochemistry in ways she never could have imagined. Three years after taking part in the testing, Brenda was suddenly shocked by a faulty power outlet, and this is when she truly changed. 

 With a new power raging inside her, she gained the ability of thermo-kinesis - the ability to manipulate and unleash beams of both intense heat and extreme cold. She could heat and freeze things with a single touch, make herself weightless and move through the air by the power of her mind, and even project a shield of swirling heat and cold around her body and the body of others for protection. 

 Using her newfound abilities, Brenda designed and donned a costume befitting her new alter-ego: Hot-Ice, the superheroine ready to put a chill on crime and burn down corruption. With superhuman powers of heat and cold, Hot-Ice is ready to face the evil forces that seek to harm the citizens of her city.

NPC from a superhero role playing game I ran many years ago.

[spechie]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Under Armour 1/4 zip Men's Jacket.

[grillpartshub-blog]

Porcelain Steel Heat Plate, Shield, Tent, Burner Cover, Vaporizor Bar and Flavorizer Bar Replacement for Gas Grills Fits Compitable Models: Thermos 461611513, 461630208, 461630509, Charbroil 463612509, 463620410, 463620511, Aussie 6112S8X641, 6122S8X641, 6212S00T91. BUY TODAY!!

[tufcontmt]

Tufcon TMT: The Backbone of Skyscraper Safety

Skyscrapers, towering marvels of engineering, demand exceptional strength and durability in their construction. The backbone of these structures lies in the reinforcing steel, or TMT bars. TMT, short for Thermo Mechanically Treated, offers superior strength, ductility, and corrosion resistance, making it an essential component in ensuring the safety and longevity of skyscrapers.

Understanding TMT

TMT bars are produced through a special heat treatment process that imparts unique properties. The core of the bar is harder, providing high tensile strength, while the outer layer is ductile, allowing for elongation without breaking. This combination ensures that TMT bars can withstand the immense loads and stresses imposed by the weight of a skyscraper and external factors like wind and earthquakes.

Key Safety Benefits of Tufcon TMT in Skyscraper Construction:

Superior Strength: TMT bars possess exceptional tensile strength, enabling them to bear heavy loads without compromising structural integrity. This strength is crucial in ensuring the stability of skyscrapers, even in adverse conditions.

Ductility: The ductile outer layer of TMT bars allows for a certain degree of deformation under stress, preventing sudden and catastrophic failure. This ductility helps to absorb and dissipate energy from seismic events, minimizing damage to the structure.

Corrosion Resistance: TMT bars are engineered to be highly resistant to corrosion, a critical factor in ensuring the long-term safety of skyscrapers. Corrosion can weaken the structural integrity of steel, leading to potential failure. TMT bars' corrosion-resistant properties help to maintain their strength and durability over time.

Earthquake Resistance: The combination of strength and ductility in TMT bars makes them well-suited for seismic zones. TMT bars can absorb and dissipate energy during earthquakes, reducing the risk of structural collapse.

Fatigue Resistance: Skyscrapers are subjected to constant cyclic loads from wind, traffic, and other factors. TMT bars exhibit excellent fatigue resistance, ensuring that they can withstand repeated stress without experiencing premature failure.

Uncompromising Quality: The Hallmark of Tufcon TMT

Tufcon's commitment to excellence is evident in its state-of-the-art manufacturing facilities, where the production of 600 Grade High Corrosion Resistant (HCR) TMT bars, billets, nails, and iron binding wire is carried out with meticulous precision. This unwavering focus on quality has earned Tufcon the trust of leading construction companies and architects around the country, who recognize the superior performance and reliability of Tufcon's products.

Engineered for Strength and Resilience

The flagship 600 HCR TMT bars from Tufcon are the epitome of engineering prowess, designed to withstand the rigorous demands of modern high-rise construction. Boasting a tensile strength that is up to 20% higher than traditional steel rebar, these reinforcement bars are the perfect choice for load-bearing structures that must stand tall against the forces of gravity and seismic activity.

The secret to Tufcon's superior strength lies in its specialized thermo-mechanical treatment process, which refines the microstructure of the steel, creating a material that is both exceptionally strong and remarkably ductile. This enhanced ductility is particularly crucial in earthquake-prone regions, where the ability of a building to flex and absorb energy is the difference between survival and catastrophic failure.

Corrosion Resistance: A Lasting Safeguard

In addition to their unparalleled strength, Tufcon TMT bars also boast superior corrosion resistance, a crucial factor in ensuring the long-term structural integrity of skyscrapers. The heat treatment process creates a protective layer on the surface of the bars, effectively shielding them from the ravages of rust and deterioration over time.

This enhanced corrosion resistance is particularly important in coastal regions, where the salty air and humid environment can quickly degrade traditional steel rebar. By using Tufcon TMT bars, construction professionals can be confident that their high-rise projects will maintain their structural integrity for decades to come, even in the most challenging environmental conditions.

Sustainability and Environmental Responsibility

Tufcon's commitment to innovation extends beyond the technical superiority of its products; it also encompasses a dedication to sustainable and environmentally responsible practices. The manufacturing process for Tufcon TMT bars is designed to minimize waste and energy consumption, making it a more eco-friendly option compared to traditional steel production.

Furthermore, the long-lasting durability of Tufcon TMT bars means that they require less frequent replacement and maintenance, reducing the overall carbon footprint of the building over its lifetime. This alignment with the principles of sustainability positions Tufcon as a trusted partner in shaping a greener future for the construction industry.

As the world's cities continue to reach new heights, Tufcon TMT reinforcement bars have emerged as the backbone of skyscraper safety, providing unparalleled strength, ductility, and corrosion resistance to these architectural marvels. With its unwavering commitment to quality, innovation, and environmental responsibility, Tufcon is poised to play a vital role in redefining the future of high-rise construction.

Conclusion

TMT bars play a vital role in ensuring the safety and durability of skyscrapers. Their superior strength, ductility, corrosion resistance, earthquake resistance, and fatigue resistance make them an indispensable component in modern construction. By choosing TMT for skyscraper projects, builders can confidently deliver structures that are not only aesthetically pleasing but also safe and resilient.

[homeweatherstation]

The Benefits of High-End Greenhouse Kits: What the Reviews Say

In the realm of modern horticulture and gardening, high-end greenhouse kits are becoming increasingly popular among both amateur gardeners and professional growers. These advanced kits offer a multitude of benefits that contribute to their growing appeal. This comprehensive article delves into the key advantages of high-end greenhouse kits, backed by expert reviews and user testimonials.

Unmatched Durability and Build Quality

High-end greenhouse kits are renowned for their exceptional durability and superior build quality. Constructed from premium materials such as aluminum frames and polycarbonate panels, these greenhouses are designed to withstand harsh weather conditions. Unlike standard models, high-end kits often feature reinforced structural elements that provide greater resistance to wind, snow, and heavy rain. Reviews frequently highlight the longevity of these kits, with many users noting that their investment has led to years of reliable use.

Optimal Temperature Control

One of the standout benefits of high-end greenhouse kits is their advanced temperature control capabilities. These greenhouses are equipped with automatic ventilation systems, thermostats, and shade cloths that ensure a stable and optimal environment for plant growth. The integration of high-quality insulation materials further enhances temperature regulation by reducing heat loss during colder months and minimizing overheating during the summer. Many reviews commend these features for their effectiveness in creating a consistently controlled environment that promotes healthy plant development.

Enhanced Light Transmission

High-end greenhouse kits often incorporate advanced glazing materials that maximize light transmission. Polycarbonate panels and tempered glass are commonly used in these kits to ensure that plants receive the ideal amount of natural light for photosynthesis. These materials not only provide excellent light diffusion but also offer UV protection, which helps to shield plants from harmful rays while maintaining optimal light conditions. User feedback frequently praises these kits for their ability to enhance plant growth through superior light management.

Improved Air Circulation

Proper air circulation is crucial for preventing plant diseases and ensuring healthy growth. High-end greenhouse kits are designed with sophisticated airflow systems that promote optimal ventilation. Features such as automated roof vents, louvre windows, and circulation fans are commonly included to facilitate effective air movement throughout the greenhouse. Reviews often highlight how these features contribute to a healthier growing environment by reducing humidity levels and preventing the buildup of stale air.

Energy Efficiency and Sustainability

Energy efficiency is a significant consideration in the design of high-end greenhouse kits. Many of these kits incorporate energy-saving technologies such as thermo-sensors, solar panels, and rainwater collection systems. These features not only reduce operational costs but also align with sustainable gardening practices. User reviews frequently commend these greenhouses for their ability to minimize energy consumption while supporting environmentally friendly practices.

Customizable Options and Features

High-end greenhouse kits offer a wide range of customizable options and features to meet specific gardening needs. From adjustable shelving and irrigation systems to automated climate control and seedling trays, these kits can be tailored to suit various gardening styles and requirements. The flexibility to choose and integrate these options allows users to create a greenhouse that perfectly matches their gardening goals. Reviews often emphasize the convenience and efficiency of these customizable features, which enhance the overall gardening experience.

Ease of Assembly and Maintenance

Despite their advanced features, high-end greenhouse kits are designed with ease of assembly and maintenance in mind. Many kits come with detailed instruction manuals and pre-fabricated components, which simplify the setup process. Additionally, high-quality materials used in these kits are resistant to rust and corrosion, reducing the need for frequent maintenance. User feedback commonly highlights the straightforward assembly process and minimal upkeep required, making these kits a practical choice for both novice and experienced gardeners.

Increased Property Value

Investing in a high-end greenhouse kit can also contribute to the overall value of a property. Well-designed and aesthetically pleasing greenhouses enhance the visual appeal of a garden or backyard, making it a more attractive feature for potential buyers. Reviews often note that the addition of a high-quality greenhouse can significantly boost property value, especially in markets where gardening and outdoor living are highly valued.

Conclusion

High-end greenhouse kit reviews offer a wealth of benefits that make them a worthwhile investment for serious gardeners and horticulturists. From superior durability and temperature control to enhanced light transmission and energy efficiency, these kits provide numerous advantages that contribute to successful and sustainable gardening. User reviews consistently praise the advanced features and overall quality of these greenhouses, underscoring their value in creating an optimal growing environment.

[marketinsight1234]

Sepsis Diagnostics Market: Forthcoming Trends and Share Analysis by 2030

Sepsis Diagnostics Market Size Was Valued at USD 694.23 Million in 2022 and is Projected to Reach USD 1155.87 Million by 2030, Growing at a CAGR of 6.58% From 2023-2030.

The sepsis diagnostics market has been gaining momentum in recent years due to increasing awareness about the condition and advancements in diagnostic technologies. Sepsis, a life-threatening condition triggered by the body's extreme response to an infection, requires rapid and accurate diagnosis for timely intervention and treatment. Sepsis is a major global health concern, with a high incidence rate across all age groups. The growing number of cases, particularly in hospital settings and among immunocompromised individuals, is fueling the demand for effective diagnostic tools.  Advances in diagnostic techniques, such as biomarker assays, molecular diagnostics, and point-of-care testing, have significantly improved the accuracy and speed of sepsis diagnosis. These technologies enable healthcare providers to quickly identify septic patients and initiate appropriate treatment.

Get Full PDF Sample Copy of Report: (Including Full TOC, List of Tables & Figures, Chart) @

https://introspectivemarketresearch.com/request/16747

Updated Version 2024 is available our Sample Report May Includes the:

Scope For 2024

Brief Introduction to the research report.

Table of Contents (Scope covered as a part of the study)

Top players in the market

Research framework (structure of the report)

Research methodology adopted by Worldwide Market Reports

Moreover, the report includes significant chapters such as Patent Analysis, Regulatory Framework, Technology Roadmap, BCG Matrix, Heat Map Analysis, Price Trend Analysis, and Investment Analysis which help to understand the market direction and movement in the current and upcoming years.

Leading players involved in the Sepsis Diagnostics Market include:

Luminex (US), T2 Biosystems (US), Danaher Corporation (US), Dickinson and Company (US), Thermo Fisher Scientific (US), Bruker Corporation (US), Axis-Shield Diagnostics (UK), EKF Diagnostics (UK), AstraZeneca (UK), Seegene Inc. (South Korea) 

If You Have Any Query Sepsis Diagnostics Market Report, Visit:

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Segmentation of Sepsis Diagnostics Market:

By Technology

Blood Culture

Immunoassays

Molecular Diagnostics

Flow Cytometry

Microfluidics

Biomarkers

By Product

Blood Culture Media

Assays & Reagents

Instruments

Software

By Method

Automated Diagnostics

Conventional Diagnostics

By Pathogen

Bacterial Sepsis

Fungal Sepsis

Viral Sepsis

By Test Type

Laboratory Tests

Point-of-Care Tests

By End Users

Hospitals and specialty clinics

Pathology & Reference Laboratories

Research Laboratories & Academic Institutes

By Regions: -

North America (US, Canada, Mexico)

Eastern Europe (Bulgaria, The Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland, Romania, Rest of Eastern Europe)

Western Europe (Germany, UK, France, Netherlands, Italy, Russia, Spain, Rest of Western Europe)

Asia Pacific (China, India, Japan, South Korea, Malaysia, Thailand, Vietnam, The Philippines, Australia, New Zealand, Rest of APAC)

Middle East & Africa (Turkey, Bahrain, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, UAE, Israel, South Africa)

South America (Brazil, Argentina, Rest of SA)

Highlights from the report:

Market Study: It includes key market segments, key manufacturers covered, product range offered in the years considered, Global Sepsis Diagnostics Market, and research objectives. It also covers segmentation study provided in the report based on product type and application.

Market Executive Summary: This section highlights key studies, market growth rates, competitive landscape, market drivers, trends, and issues in addition to macro indicators.

Market Production by Region: The report provides data related to imports and exports, revenue, production and key players of all the studied regional markets are covered in this section.

Sepsis Diagnostics Market Profiles of Top Key Competitors: Analysis of each profiled Roll Hardness Tester market player is detailed in this section. This segment also provides SWOT analysis of individual players, products, production, value, capacity, and other important factors.

If you require any specific information that is not covered currently within the scope of the report, we will provide the same as a part of the customization.

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[frostise]

𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

important notes: frost's powers are similar to how the lantern corps construct their powers by concentration and imagination, except her ice constructions don't break if she loses focus. louise manages her abilities and stores them inside of her body like a fuel tank.

thanks to the metahuman training when exploited by T.A.B, louise had managed to master her powers throughout the years. it is said that she's a better power user than a martial artist. it has also been recorded she's unable to produce ice breath considering the fact she is weak against the cold. frost can only control her power through her hands only. depending on her environment—her powers will become powerful or weak which is why the humid climate serves to strengthen her and dish out the ice.

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

heat absorption:  is able to drain the sun's energy, survive inside of a volcano, suck the moisture from the air, steal another person's body heat, absorb fire/lightning, destroy machinery and decrease explosions. it's been proven her ability is limitless and requires complete control from the user.

heightened thermosensation:  is able to pick up other people's heat signatures (both hot and cold) within 3 metres and track their positions. she can also sense if someone has been in a room if their heat signature is strong enough (ex: touching a couch and figuring out three people sat on it). this power is similar to how thermoception works except she's like a living, breathing geiger counter instead. it can only be cancelled out by supernatural beings.

heat regeneration:  she's able to slowly restore her injuries by using heat. without it stabling her condition she won't heal properly. it is a slow process given the fact she still needs medical attention if her injuries are too severe to heal. any attempt to heal it rapidly and she ends up being harmed. it is important to note that if louise remains unconscious and hurt it can threaten her metahuman condition to be in survival mode, consuming the environment until it's winter wonderland.

ice constructs:  is able to form ice daggers, swords, platforms, bridges, spikes, shields, domes ect. this would require heat from her thermo-armour or from a reliable heat source like the humid climate.

body temperature manipulation:  she's able to lower her own body temperature to the point her heart stops beating and avoid detection from heat signature scans. she can also share her body heat with anything or anyone at the cost of feeling dizzy and weak, which she rarely ever does since it's too harmful on her own body. louise can regulate her body temperature like a sponge and cool down at will if her armour or skin is too overheated to touch. it's also been noted she never seems to sweat in this state.

ice storm creation:  is able to create an ice storm with the snap of her fingers and fling anything or anyone at superspeed. it requires tremendous amounts of heat and KF had to master this power for years because it was an extremely difficult ability to control and dangerous if it backfired on her.

cryokinetic surfing/flight:  is able to create ice slides in mid-air and ice rocket boost herself up to impossible to reach places like skyscrapers. it's used sparingly in her missions.

molecular moisture inversion:  is able to freeze someone's molecules from the inside out, but it would require the other person to be absolutely still. this power is rarely used unless her victim is restrained to a table or held down by someone else.

cryopreservation: is able to preserve people, animals or objects for long periods of time. this would normally take away her energy because of how demanding the process is since it requires a hefty amount of patience and concentration. if she rushes the process, it'll end up causing unnecessary injury or damage.