#despite having no lines and being restricted by heavy make up. but there's a lot more to enjoy here too. colin clive is wonderful as

[tezzbot]

Okay.. so... fairly long post under the cut with the sort of background to my Sonic Underground AU!! If anyone's interested fjdgv I have thought about it a Lot lol

So basically, The background is that Eggman has definitely been up to shit since before Sonic was born lol and one of his sort of things when he I guess started out in villainy ? was he started trying to claim land and take over so that he could build his cities and theme parks and factories and what have you and rule over everything. So, after claiming some untouched land he started attacking “Mobian'' settlements, (not sure whether to stick with Mobian or what but the word gets my point across so I’m using it now sfgdh) and I guess started working his way up until he found Christmas Island, which is the small Kingdom Aleena ruled over at the time. This caused the Kingdom to fight back and started a war with Robotnik. However. Obviously the warzone was no place to be raising the Very recently born heirs to the throne (the three who would grow up to be Sonia Sonic and Manic, they might’ve had different names back then lol) and so Aleena with a Very heavy heart sent the three Far away, they had them sent to a dinky little orphanage in a fairly distant zone, intending to pick them back up when the war was over.

Unfortunately, Very early on in the triplet’s stay at the orphanage, when they were still practically babies, an unfortunate cot placement led to Manic being kidnapped sometime in the dead of night (don’t ask why they did it I just think it’s funny love and light). He was taken to a nearby city, and somehow managed to endear himself to Ferral, the leader of one of the larger sort of crime rings active there. This is where he learned to get by and live and thrive, little crime family they love each other and rag on each other so much smile smile smile.

Sonic stayed in the orphanage a lot longer than Manic, but doesn’t really remember his time there all that much. As soon as Sonic figured out how to, he ran. Ran as fast and as far as he was able. Ran until he had no idea how to get back. But he'd not a guilt on his conscience. He was free, for the first time felt truly free. He learned how to survive on his own and met a little two tailed fox cub and his life played out pretty much exactly the same as it does in the main line continuity :)

Sonia is the only one of the three who has any memory of staying in the orphanage and was the only one to leave there by regular means dgfhfg. At about five years old, she was one of a few girls from across the continent to be chosen to attend and live at an all girls school where they would grow into proper ladies™, being taught etiquette and manners and so on. She managed a fairly cushy lifestyle here but was never truly happy there. She obviously has her besties like Mindy, but it always felt far too restrictive and (figuratively) cold. So while she does do well there, she is slightly prone to getting in trouble and feels kind of belittled and invisible among her peers at times

So in the triplet’s maybe 3rd year? The war on Christmas Island ended and the Mobians were unfortunately forced to go into hiding. Aleena made it out and went into her own hiding in the form of laying low in a residential area in a nearby city, and attempted to blend in there for a few years before making the trip to finally reunite with her children. Unfortunately by the time she gets there, all three are gone :( Even though the orphanage may know where Sonia is, she feels as though she has failed all three as their mother and wouldn't be able to face any of them (despite the fact they're like. 6 year olds lol), and so retreats back to her city home.

Until, over a decade later, Aleena sees the world renowned hero Sonic the Hedgehog that she hears so much about, (maybe he’s just saved that part of the city from a badnik attack or something like that) and there is just… something about him that is so uncannily like her Bernie… His heroism and humility right down to his mannerisms, the being blue also adds to the effect. And… Aleena is not one to get her hopes up, but the chance of this being one of her missing children after all these years…

Then I’m thinking maybe, she is wearing the equivalent of the three medallions and, maybe as she gets closer to Sonic one of them has some sort of magical reaction ? or something I’m not actually sure. But something DOES confirm to Aleena that This is one of her kids oh my god!! And he’s just like his (other) mother… Aleena gets overwhelmed and ends up not talking to him. Sonic maybe notices someone in a long flowy jacket running away from the crowd, but gets distracted by the many other thankful citizens around him to really take note of it lol

This is when Aleena writes her letter to Sonic. She looks him up, tries very hard to find out where he lives. Ultimately coming up with nothing she’s like IS MY BOY HOMELESS?? But then what comes up eventually is a plethora of small garages and laboratories under the name Dr. Miles Prower and is like Oh! An apprentice maybe :) lol and so she rolls the dice and chooses one of those locations at random and hopes her message gets to him soon.

This is just the leadup to what would be the "main plot" of the AU and I do have more for it!! So if this like. Text based way of explaining my ideas is alright I can share more from the google doc if ppl are interested!! And maybe I'll doodle some stuff for it here n there who know (seems likely tho lol)

[dangraccoon]

Dnd and clones make brain go brr, so thank you!

I rolled a 10, Echo, 9. "I'm ready to try again if you are", and a 16. Forced proximity (great rolls for once)

I was thinking maybe they dated before the citadel, and after they reunite he's all cold and insecure and forced proximity gets them actually talking again? hehe she/her or gn is fine!

I'm Different

Echo x F!Reader (no gender or pronouns described)

~ Echo - "I'm ready to try again if you are" - Forced Proximity ~

Author’s Note: here you go, anon!! I hope it was what you’re looking for! And feel free to send more if you’d like 💛😁

Warnings: mentions of canon character deaths, partial cave in, restricted space (not very tight), body image issues

Mando'a Guide: Mesh'la - beautiful

From the moment you’d met him, you knew Echo would be the love of your life. He was kind, smart, and very handsome. He’d swept you off your feet the moment you first met when you’d joined the 501st, coming onto you with some cheesy pick-up line Fives had dared him to use. It hadn’t worked, of course, but the sheepish way he’d apologized and started a real conversation had won you over.

Losing him was the hardest thing you’d ever had to endure in your life. You found comfort with Fives, finding solace in that friendship. But then he was gone, too. Your heart had been so heavy, looking at the other men who so resembled your lost love and friend. 

Even though their personalities varied from man to man, you still saw them. You saw Echo’s strict adherence to the regulations that only lasted up until Fives gave him that look that could only mean “I’m going to do something crazy, and you’re coming with me.” You saw Fives’ fierce determination that was always softened by Echo’s cool, calm, and collected demeanor. You saw the domino twins in every pair of troopers you met. That is, until you met them.

Clone Force 99 was… different to say the least. You’d met them very briefly before they’d left with Rex for a mission. Rex would only describe this mission to you as “need-to-know”, and for that, he’d gotten one of your “death glares” as Echo and Fives had called it. You saw Kix and Jesse shudder out of the corner of your eye before you stormed off. Ever since you’d been stationed with the 501st, you knew everything. Some of the shinies even thought you to be the natborn version of an ARC. The radio silence you were receiving was unusual.

You endured days of nothing until one day you’d cornered Kix, demanding to know what was going on. He’d sighed deeply, then wordlessly led you back through the compound to a wing of the medical bay.

A pale clone sat on the edge of one of the beds, covered head to artificial foot in machinery, being beeped at by several droids.

You stared at the man, something familiar stirring in your chest, and even though the man never noticed you, you knew in the very depths of your soul that it was Echo - your Echo.

It had been months since you transferred with Echo to the Bad Batch. The odd group of clones had pulled you both in with open arms, despite being a “reg” and a “nattie”. You’d gone on countless missions, one after the other, always busy, but something was throwing you off.

Despite having reacquainted with your lost lover, Echo was different. He was polite and somewhat cordial with you like you were any other natborn. He might not have known it, but it was breaking your heart.

“What’s wrong with me?” you asked him. He had wandered further into the cave the squad had set up camp inside, claiming to want to get away from Wrecker and Tech’s snoring. He hadn’t heard you following him.

He startled, desperately avoiding your gaze. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he muttered.

“You’ve been avoiding me since Anaxes,” you stated bluntly. “I know it’d been years since you’d seen me and a lot was going on back then, but Echo, it’s been months and you can barely even look at me unless it’s a necessity.”

Echo finally met your eyes, noticing the tear slipping down your cheek. He sighed. “I’m not trying to-”

Suddenly, there was a rumbling in the ground. The whole cave shook around you, knocking you to your knees.

Rocks fell all around you, cutting off the tunnel back to the others and the opening of the cavern. 

Echo pulled you to your feet milliseconds before a large jagged boulder fell, barely missing you.

A moment later, the rumbling stopped. Hunter began calling you and Echo over the comms. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re alright,” Echo answered, already pushing at the rocks blocking the two of you from reaching the rest of the group. “But we’re boxed in.”

He gave a hard shove to one of the large rocks, moving it just a little. With its shift came a downpouring of rocks that would’ve hit him had you not grabbed the backplate of his armor, yanking him away.

“Don’t attempt to move anything,” Tech warned. “The structural integrity of the cave is questionable at best.”

“Sit tight until we find another way out for you,” Hunter ordered.

“Kriff,” you swore, plopping down onto the ground. 

Echo sat as well, though you could tell he was uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry; the others will find a way out of this place,” you sniffed, scowling at the ground. “You won’t have to be stuck with me for long.”

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look up as you tried to hold back the tears gathering in yours.

“I didn’t mean to-” he started but cut himself off with a sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your head lifted to meet his gaze. “What?”

“You haven’t changed much, despite everything,” he explained. “You’re still kind and smart. Still a hell of a fighter and… hell, somehow you’ve gotten more beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks warm. “Then why-”

“Because I’m different,” he asserted. “The Separatists took me and used my brain. They- they changed me. Turned me into this.” He gestured to the replaced portions of his body with his scomp. “And they- they nearly broke me.”

“Echo-”

“And you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve any of this,” he growled. “You deserve someone who can hold you, who can take care of you. You deserve a person, not a thing like me.”

Your tears were flowing freely down your cheeks now, washing away the dirt that clung to your face, leaving streaks as they went. “Echo,” you whispered, gently touching his arm. He still didn’t look at you. You scoffed. “Stars, you’re stupid.”

You thought he might’ve broken his neck with how fast he turned to face you, his expression a textbook example of shock.

You chuckled. “Of course you’re different. I mean, stars, Echo; you were dead!” You took his hand in yours. “I couldn’t expect you to be exactly how you were before, and I hope you don’t think I’m truly the same after losing you. But I love you, and that’s something that could never change. Organic or machine parts, you’re still you. You’re still my Echo.”

He watched you curiously as if he thought you might be playing a joke on him.

“I know things are a little different now, but I’m in this for the long haul and I don’t want to lose you again,” you whispered. “I’m ready to try again if you are.”

“Mesh’la,” he shook his head. “I can’t- I won’t be able to provide the things you need.”

You cupped his cheek, your eyes boring into his. “Will you love me?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

“Then you can provide everything I need.”

You pulled against him, your lips meeting his softly, but still firm and steady.

He eagerly kissed you back, instantly remembering the feel of your lips against his.

After a few moments, you breathlessly pulled away, resting your forehead against his. 

“I love you, Echo.”

“I love you, too.”

Thanks for reading! - River

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[slightlyhopefulromantic]

i was gonna wait until i finished the bitd and deadlands line-ups before posting these, but i'm not gonna get those done before the final season starts, so might as well bite the bullet now XD woohoo, oxventure d&d designs! i'll go into further detail below the cut for all of my thoughts on these designs and reasoning for smaller details, but for now, just know that i will never draw a cape. i simply cannot do it. hoods and weird draped fabric or nothing XD

okay i put like. waaay too many thoughts into a lot of these small details so im gonna allow myself to geek out here X3 firstly - though they're way too small to read properly, i did the little symbol eye shines i used in my first art for them! dob gets music notes, prudence gets fire, corazón gets hearts, and merilwen gets flowers. i usually draw egbert's pupils pretty thin to resemble a reptile, so he just gets normal eye shines, but i probably could have given him some here... he would get suns if i thought of that

dob - muscular in a wiry and dehydrated way, lol, hence having a more defined stomach/hips despite not being as strong as prudence or egbert. he has sad/down-turned puppy dog eyes at all times because i think the big-eyed endearing look is fitting for him, though i do make them darker blue than his canonical baby blues because i just... like how dark blue eyes look, lol. i'm pretty sure he canonically has the stomach scar, and obviously his facial scar has always been there, but i gave him a couple other ones just to show that hes pretty reckless. and he gets freckles because even though they arent mentioned in the dragon dogma's video, i noticed luke added some and. i like freckles a lot

prudence - i've said this before, but i love the thought of pru getting muscular after the werebear bite <3 i just think she should be a little bit hench. as a treat. once again, the heavy stomach scarring comes from the dragon dogma's video, because i found their design choices in that really fun. i change prudence's outfit the most out of any of the characters, just because her canonical outfit confuses me. i'm really bad at understanding/drawing fantasy wear as is, but her fit... i'm lost entirely XD so i free-balled a bit. her inner sleeves that hook around her fingers are based on jane's various prudence looks, and then the looser outer sleeve is just because i love prudence with a dramatic sleeve. originally the colors were closer to her canon outfit, but it just looked messy without all the details of the original, and then i tried red like jane's prudence looks but it didn't contrast enough with her skin. so i restricted them to just deep purples and black with pops of gold and dark magenta!

corazón - what can i say besides. transgender. LMAO honestly though, besides adding the top surgery scars, i just really like his canon look. i simplified the details, obviously, but i really love his big coat and his tall boots and the earrings and the black-on-black-on-black of it all. i didn't particularly feel like drawing hats when i was doing this, lol, so i stuck with a red bandana instead. the beads that are strung from it are black, red, purple, green, and yellow to match their guild's canonical color associations/the colored name plates they get in later seasons :] because corazón is the sentimental sort, even when he won't say it. also he gets a little cateye for his eyeliner, i dunno if i've ever said why i do that before haha

egbert - egbert my dearly beloved. literally just his canon look except he has la vache mauve on his tunic instead of fire! and the nose spikes i give him, i guess, but i forget those aren't canon. i actually usually draw him in mike's egbert get up, with the black robes and the golden dragon sigil, but i kinda wanted to move away from that to lean more into the end of legacy of dragons, where egbert fully commits to never going back to the dragon d'or. also i just love drawing little cow heads <3 also! i like the idea that rather than typical scar tissue, dragonborns grow thicker scales over places where they've been injured. so the thicker patches of small scales on egbert's body are meant to be scars! including his kidney scar, lol. the larger scales and the ones on his face were always there though, that's just dragonborn biology baby

merilwen - if i said i based merilwen's body on cartoon bears, would you forgive me... i just think it's cute LOL tummy <3 for the final dragon dogma's video reference, that's where her freckles and tattoos come from. ellen was right, merilwen with floral tattoos fucking rules. who am i to deny it. as a hairy woman myself, i also like making merilwen a hairy woman. she's a hippie, she would NOT shave. i also really love the red earrings she wears in her canon art, so i tried to carry that through to some other small parts of my drawing for her, and landed on the bands she has on her pants as well as the odd feather for her arrows. fun archery fact, for those who may not know - in modern archery at least, you usually will have a differently colored feather (or for my arrows, rubber fins lol) that indicate how youre meant to string the arrow! so i took advantage of that to give merilwen some more red, hehe

[luthwhore]

oh dang you were a Jehovah Witness? that must have been tough growing up

it was... something for sure. my grandmother raised me and she converted when i was about eight or nine, as did most of her sisters and my great grandmother. i was very invested in it as a kid, mostly because i was the sort of kid who REALLY wanted to impress adults and JW meetings are very participation-based.

my grandmother was very restrictive growing up, both in terms of who i was allowed to hang out with and the media i was allowed to engage with, so i wasn't allow to read harry potter or watch buffy the vampire slayer, for example, bc jehovah's witnesses are very big on not engaging with anything "satanic" or "demonic" which... includes basically anything with magic, or anything that could be a "stumbling block to your faith." (that was a phrase i heard a LOT growing up.)

i also wasn't allowed to hang out with non-jehovah's witnesses outside of school, but because my grandfathr wasn't a jehovah's witness, none of the other witness kids were allowed to come over to my house, so i didn't really have a lot of close friends until i was in my teens.

somewhere around 8th grade i started to question, for... a lot of reasons, but i was sort of back and forth between pulling away and sticking with it for a few years until i was about 15-16. jehovah's witnesses are VERY big on 1) not dating anyone outside who doesn't share the same faith as you, 2) not dating until you're ready for marriage, and 3) not even being alone with a member of the opposite sex that you're nor married to. and i wanted to date a boy from my high school and i wanted to play dungeons and dragons and i slowly just stopped going to the JW meetings, despite my grandmother clearly being unhappy with it.

the elders at my grandmother's congregation had also taken me aside and lectured me about how i shouldn't be dating which. at the time was very heavy and made me feel awful and did not make me want to go back.

my grandmother eventually gave me an ultimatum that i had to either go back to the meetings with her or formally disassociate myself, which is A Big Deal because if you disassociate yourself, other jehovah's witnessess are supposed to shun you (including your family members). i guess she thought that i would fall in line if she did this, but i ended up disassociating myself instead.

you'd think that would be the reason my grandmother and i have little to no contact now, but she was willing to break the rules for a while in the hopes that i would repent and return to the fold. the thing that actually made her go no contact with me was me coming out as gay.

i actually know for a fact that another family member of mine hasn't come out yet almost exclusively bc they know that it will destroy their relationship with her. and it sucks bc i'm 100% sure if it wasn't for the shitty cult she's fully bought into, i don't think she would actually care that much.

anyway if you ever want to know more about jehovah's witnesses, the website jwfacts.org is super informative and breaks down everything from doctrine to history to organizational scandals. knowing better on youtube also has one of the most well-researched and accurate videos about JWs i've ever seen from someone who was never part of the religion and i would HIGHLY recommend it if you want a good overview of the history and beliefs.

[illwynd]

What are your top 5 Halloween movies?

Oh nonny it is too hard to narrow it down to 5! Let's make it 10, and this will be a mix of horror movies and not-really-horror and various other things that I have to watch when October rolls around.

Prince of Darkness. Possibly my fave horror movie. John Carpenter does good stuff, and this one is a lesser-known gem. The devil in a bottle under an old church in LA. Theoretical physics mixed with the supernatural. One of the best uses of dreams in movies. Plus, Alice Cooper.

Lost Boys. Do I even have to explain? An '80s classic. Young Kiefer Sutherland. Fun on-screen brotherly relationship. Timmy Cappello swinging his hips on stage. So many quotable lines. All the damn vampires.

Flatliners. Maybe this is a weird choice? Not horror but it is set around Halloween, and it is another lesser-known gem and a personal fave (with yet more young Kiefer Sutherland). It mixes a moody, eerie aura with delicious angst and tantalizing concepts and perfect scenes. (Yes, yes, ignore the medical realism or lack thereof. Just roll with it, it's fiction.)

Trick or Treat. If you can't enjoy an undead heavy metal musician in the era of satanic panic, brought back to life by a high schooler playing his records backwards and revealing the backmasked messages, with a cameo by Ozzy as a televangelist, I don't know what to tell you.

Innocent Blood. If you can't enjoy a mafia boss accidentally turned into a vampire, and the little French vampire woman who did it having to go up against a growing mob family of vampires to stop them while being tracked by a formerly undercover cop, with a Sinatra-heavy soundtrack, I don't know what to tell you.

People Under the Stairs. An inexplicably fun mix of social commentary, over-the-top violence, villains so awful they're comical, and actually likeable protagonists. Ridiculous horror with a heart. One of these years I'm gonna dress up as one of Alice's brothers for Halloween.

Young Frankenstein. I love me some Gene Wilder, and this one is a classic for a reason.

Crimson Peak. I wish this hadn't gotten billed as a horror movie, because it's really not... but also it totally is, just not the way most people might be expecting. Also gorgeous and heartbreaking.

Pontypool, just because this list somehow doesn't have a zombie movie on it yet, and I like the unusual take on the genre in this one, with its linguistic bent. It is a very claustrophobic movie since it is almost entirely restricted to the single setting of the radio studio of an out-of-place morning shock jock, and it does a lot of neat stuff with that restriction.

I was going to include at least one of the obvious ones, Ghostbusters, Beetlejuice, Addams Family, Hocus Pocus, Nightmare Before Christmas, that sort. And I do love all of those, but so does everybody, right? So instead I'll conclude with Coherence, which isn't technically horror or Halloween-related at all but is nonetheless spooky and compelling despite the tiny budget.

[archivalofsins]

The fact that this was a joke and people have mostly gone well now hold on a second says a lot about how little Milgram told us about Mahiru. Despite that people really voted her guilty anyway. People will be like wow can woman do anything- then shoot a woman for being clingy in the same breath, huh?

Overall, it's kind of weird how all these things interact.

Taking into consideration the thumbnail reveal there is now more than one possible interpretation for the Birdcage from This Is How To Be In Love With You.

Instead of representing a restrictive relationship, the birdcage and its bars could be a creative interpretation of the woods Mahiru now finds herself in. To be more specific, the bars could represent trees surrounding her and the entire cage could be the forest itself.

Meaning that instead of a restrictive presence, this would make the bars representative of a wide expanse/chance beyond the area she's comfortable with that she's afraid/hesitant to explore.

This possibility is alluded to within her first mv through the line after her holding onto and looking longingly through the bars of this cage being,

"If you don't hug me even our hearts will start drifting apart. I pretended to be a good girl but I don't want to be "ok"."

After which she literally takes a leap of faith or the plunge into all those feathers. Showing her hesitance and fear of moving forward outside of the love she's created instead falling back on coping mechanism that are slowly wearing herself and the object of her affection down.

Mahiru, throughout her first mv, puts a heavy focus on styling herself, going to eat at trendy places, and keeping a tidy home environment

Day. 2

An easy-going dress goes perfectly with the spring weather. The natural color of the pistachio green will make you stand out as being refined!

Sandals on your feet and a relaxed smile on your face♡ Blouse, dress, bag, sandals, bangles ／ All personal possessions

On a morning when it looks like something new is about to start, make sure you’re ready with a café late."

Day. 4

Give off a fresh impression with a cheerful orange♡

Point: Hair Style

Hair in a half-up style using gold to capture their attention. Blouse, pants, bag, bangles, earrings, hair accessory ／ All personal possessions

I ran into the person I’m interested in at the bread shop. This has to be fate, right? In the end I ended up buying the same bread as he got, but I maybe don’t need this much… > < I wasn’t thinking about the calories.

Day. 5

Today I started talking to him by chance, and he told me that his hobby is running. Without thinking I took a chance where I saw it and told him “I’m interested too!” so now we’re going to go running together. Even though I’m really bad at exercise…… I’ve never run so much in my life. Totally exhausted.

Point: Watch

Don’t lose focus even when exercising! The pastel tones mean not only do you look ready to go but also give off a cute oneesan appeal. Hoodie, T-shirt, shorts, leggings, cap, sneakers, wristwatch ／ All personal possessions

This isn't just when she's around him either This Is How To Be In Love With You shows us that she continues to behave in this manner in every aspect of her life. From her home, school, all the way to her place of work.

Wanting to be cute even within your own home! For the sake of tomorrow’s you, treat yourself by wearing something soft and fluffy♡

Hoodie, undershirt, shorts, socks, head band ／ All personal possessions

Day. 3

With a mature tone, even in the middle of study you can attract attention for a new meeting.

On the terrace at university, when I met eyes with that person, I knew it must be fate. I might have been born purely so I could one day end up together with him. Or not, am I just overthinking things?

Undershirt, pants, cardigan, tote bag, sneakers, necklace, wristwatch, earrings ／ All personal possessions

Day. 6

Point: Simple Nail

I started a part-time job at the flower shop I’ve been really interested in. Would you believe it, the person I’m interested in walked past. I wonder if he’ll come in someday. I’m now even more excited about going in to work. Not just that, even. Every day is exciting.

Work-style casual outfit that lets you move around easily. Use earrings to give it a personal touch♡ Shirt, pants, apron, sneakers, earrings ／ All personal possessions

Even bringing her own apron from home for the occasion.

This is why the highlighted line for i Love You is,

"Clothes food shelter + love and miss you."

To hint at this understated aspect of her first MV. The All Personal Possessions line leading to one problem this image-

Day. 12

I was invited to his house for the first time. It was my first time going to a man’s house, I was so nervous I didn’t eat anything all day…… I don’t actually remember much!

When asked to his house, go all out making yourself look refined♡

A shirt-style dress may seem plain, but a shrewd dress style will definitely leave a good impression.

Long knit dress, shirt-style dress, boots, bag, earrings ／ All personal possessions

We see two pairs of shoes already at the door to her alleged boyfriend's home. People assumed that the white sandal like shoes were Mahiru's and the black shoes the guys. However, Mahiru blatantly states she wore boots.

Where are they and whose shoes are those? Also, whose hairclip are you wearing? She mentions that her hair accessories are personal possessions before so why not here? More than likely because it isn't a personal possession Mahiru please?!

Also, considering the shoes are closest to the door for easier access and this is her alleged boyfriend's house- These two shoes being there could mean that he is already living with someone else and Mahiru's boots are placed in a separate area designated for guests closer to the entrance.

Then-

Day. 14

An outdoor cinema date with him under the stars. How stylish! A French film I like was screening that I really, really wanted to see, so I begged him to come too. A girl really is at her cutest when she’s in love.

Just because it’s outdoors doesn’t mean you can relax too much! Even when picking out a date outfit to protect you from the cold, you still want to protect that loveable silhouette. Overcoat, shirt, skirt, bag, scarf, earrings, hair accessory ／ All personal possessions

MAHIRU WHOSE BOOTS ARE YOU FUCKING WEARING? What-what? What is going on here?! You mentioned your shoes before this so what the hell?

Day. 13

I was invited to go to a relative’s wedding. Brides are always so beautiful, I’d love to be like that someday too. Ever since I was young, I’ve dreamed of being able to get married to the person I love. Maybe it isn’t just a dream any more though.

Since you’re dressing up, it’s a time to go all out with the pretty styling. The pale pink dress and fur coat are a coordination for someone dreaming of the future. Overcoat, dress, pumps, bag, bracelet, earrings ／ All personal possessions

Mahiru where'd you get the hair tie it's super cute, but you don't list it as a personal possession...so like with all the other items you don't list whose belonging is this?!

Mahiru- Mahiru please, please I'm begging you don't make me do this. Oh, damn it I'm gonna have to do it-

Whelp this is gonna hurt-

Day. 15

My first shrine visit of the year was together with him. Obviously, I know what I want to wish for. Please let us stay together like this forever. Please don’t let anyone else get in our way.

The hatsumode style you can only wear once per year! Add small pieces for decoration like zori or a metal-clasp bag to dress yourself up with all your might. Furisode, obi, haneri, tabi, geta, bag ／ All personal possessions

Firstly, what does she mean by anyone else that implies someone had before Mahiru?! Ah, no....

Okay, look I may be stupid but she's clearly wearing a hair accessory particularly a braided headband- Unless she styled her hair this way which would be a difficult style to hold but maybe. However, we never see her hair displayed in a similar fashion throughout the rest of this song.

So, if it's not a new style where'd you get the headband, sweetie?

Have you been I don't know this is a long shot but... Stealing the belongings of the girls this guy has been interested in, mimicking their styles, interior design choices, cooking methods, and possibly killing them so he wouldn't be able to date them... Is that, well, you know your self-imposed training?

Something that could possibly lead to him committing suicide due to the back-to-back losses people close to him. Especially if he loved this other girl.

"Hey, if not me, who would you choose?"/ "Don’t say you like someone so flippantly! It’ll disappear…… words like “love,” don’t use them!"

Oh, oh-fuck.

Become someone people will fall in love with at any time! 16 day memorial Produced by Mahiru

"I feel like a totally different person to before I met him……"

Day. 16

A shirt-style dress with a tie dye pattern that’s very fashionable this year balances nicely with the purple cardigan, coming together in a style that’s both up on the trends while also looking refined! Cardigan, dress, earrings ／ All personal possessions

Before he comes home, I’ve cooked so it’ll be ready waiting for him. I’ve kept notes on all his favorites, and I’ve been practicing cooking them! I can’t wait to see his surprised face when he sees.

I- well then. Huh, guess when people were asserting the covers didn't mean anything they were wrong which means her getting voted guilty because of Psychogram was kind of warranted. Whelp, the more you learn.

Not what I thought I'd be typing when I started looking over this idea again but...yikes. Um...that's scary. Haha...moving on.

This line may not only represent what she wishes to provide through her love but what she believes she needs to have/be able to give in order to receive love. Now we can discuss the logistics of the way she went about doing these things to assure the person she was interested in would reciprocate her affections/so she'd become a person people could fall in love with at any time.

However, it's abundantly clear she felt having these things was necessary to get the outcome she wanted.

This is something we see highlighted through this timeline interaction,

20/06/29

Yuno: ……mmm, the food here is actually pretty nice. I wonder if the guard made it…… Oh yeah, Mahiru-san, do you cook?

Mahiru: Hm? I do~ Cooking, washing, cleaning, I love doing all those sorts of things~

Fufufu, I passed all my self-imposed training to become the perfect wife with flying colors!

Yuno: Wow, incredible…I don’t know whether to call that old-fashioned or what. ……isn’t it a pain?

Mahiru: Eh~? I don’t think it’s a pain at all~ It’s fun~

Whelp, that it's from me I'm pretty sure I just found out something I'd rather not have known and honestly, I hope she's dating a corpse that would be better.

Stupidest thought and outcome- Mahiru was just fucking dating a corpse to begin with. People keep mentioning the suicide forest, and now she's clearly in the woods within her thumbnail. What if she went to the forest before she ever even met the other guy, and she's just been trying to resurrect some dead guy. Similarly to how Shidou was probably giving a brain-dead individual organs.

Wouldn't that be fucked up? Probably not it but it certainly would be fucked up. Everyone is just like, "Oh no, her poor boyfriend. Oh no poor her!" Then it's this and everyone is just like "girl..."- "GIRL!", "GIRL NO! NO!" as she just hurries off with what is basically a cadaver.

The reason her clothes are messed up also because she took them off a corpse. The entire life she showed us in This Is How To Be In Love With You is just the life she wished she had- In the most what the fuck turn of events ever Mahiru is so deep in her own delusions that her first trial song is nothing but fucking lies. Then, all any of us can do is just sit with that.

If that happened, I think the fandom would collectively kill over. However, it is the most unlikely set of circumstances, hell impossible really but I do find the fact that it's a reasonable possibility until next week comes hilarious and fun.

I'm going back to bed now-

[300iqprower]

I can't help but feel a bit bitter over the way Arjuna Alter got screwed in terms of marketing. They delay the release of Lostbelt 4 for an obscenely long time, then release his first banner right before a summer event and anniversary so of course no one wanted to roll, then hold off giving him a second rateup for 3 years and then relegate his second rateup to a CBC event. (Skadi wasn't properly released with LB2, instead she was the anni Servant for that year plus a milestone plus a few events she'd featured in; they made Ibuki the milestone Servant when she'd been available less than a year, then don't put Junao on the Karnamas banner despite there not being any other limited 5*s in the event other than him. I feel like a lot of it was intentional and not just "Oh he just doesn't sell well")

I mean you totally should feel bitter. I would. ...Maybe that's a sign you shouldn't, actually...

It was definitely sexism in terms of pre-release, funny how Skadi and Castoria got that treatment of releasing ahead of schedule, but post-release it's the "men don't sell" mentality + because they realized they fucked up. Castoria overshadows it nowadays, but Alterjuna was borderline to DPS what Castoria is to support. He's the reason debuff meta is garbage now, with bosses consistently being slapped with Debuff Immunity and heavy debuff resistance, because he nukes anything with a debuff placed on it, the same way before him mental debuffs were useless because every boss (specifically male ones) got slapped with Mental Debuff Immunity for no reason other than to stop Eurayle from being an easy F2P option for tough encounters like Surt or Xiang Yu. He trivialized several gilfest level CQs. And if you had Merlin or Waver, let alone both? You've won the game forever. So just like with Eurayle, they nerfed him indirectly in a way that nerfs an entire archetype of servants even harder than it does that one servant. From what I know starting with Olympus there are also significantly less multi-enemy bosses. And this was all DEFINITELY by design; as I've said before LB4's release lines up just after Delightworks suffered a massive profit drop due entirely to their own shitty business practices. I'd be surprised if he ever even got the "increase the scaling and nothing else" NP rank up, because they clearly want to make absolutely sure they restrict his damage ceiling as much as possible.

But there was also a key difference: Eurayle is free to play, Alterjuna is SSR EX. So while they couldn't stop you from using Eurayle, they could artificially limit how many people would have to borrow Alterjuna to get ahold of him by just.....not re-running him at all. Of course with Castoria they aren't even hesitating to rerun her and there's obvious reason for that: She is waifu. She is mascot. And they aren't afraid anymore to powercreep for the sake of proft; it's pretty much their entire MO ever since Castoria dropped. They hadn't realized they were taking the plunge with Alterjuna so they had that kneejerk reaction but it made them go "fuck it" as soon as it was done when it came time to do it again.

TLDR, as OP as Castoria is, Alterjuna was when they crossed that point of no return with powercreep, and so it's no wonder they've done everything they can to bury him every since, even though it was completely intentional because what these kind of hacks think they can do is shove out a whalebait powercreeper for a spike in profits and then just damage control it into non-existence. Either that, or no one leading the dev team is qualified to even hold a position in the entire industry with how little they understand game design.

[canmom]

were you the one who posted that cool 4 part essay on why today's anomation looks worse (with cels being solid colors, difficult to make them look bad, todays anime is comped to hell and back, etc)? I keep searching for it but can't find it somehow :(

Afraid not, though that sounds like an interesting essay!

But since that's a topic I find interesting, let me give you my thoughts on it ^^'

I'd say for my part that a reason cel animation often looks so much better is not so much to do with overuse of compositing effects (though, that can definitely do a lot to ruin a shot!) so much as...

the fact that cleanup (douga) is usually done at a fairly low resolution (720p is common) as essentially pixel art and then upscaled, which results in distinctly blurry lines and a loss of the precise texture in the linework and subtle grain in the cels that were characteristic of traditional animation.

lack of strong colour direction, and the limitations of TV colour spaces - I don't know too much about this but apparently there are certain restrictions on the colours you can use in TV animation that leads to a lot of very bland palettes

shitty background painting that overuses digital shortcuts like texture fills, and goes way too hard on lighting effects. it's not that digital paintings are necessarily worse than physical media, but in an industry in a state of overproduction and endemic crunch that's constantly squeezed for time...

One interesting trend that's come in with a lot of recent shounen shows such as Ousama Ranking, Demon Slayer and even recent One Piece is to start using rougher, more textured lines, almost like they're going for the look of traditional cleanup and even overshooting and exaggerating a bit. But hey, it's definitely distinctive.

Anyway, it's absolutely possible to make a beautiful shot with a digital pipeline. Look at anything by KyoAni, Trigger or 4C, or certain recent Science Saru works like Eizouken or Heike Monogatari, or Made in Abyss, Wonder Egg Priority (despite how it ended up collapsing under its own weight), later Makoto Shinkai films (an interesting case because he's probably the main culprit behind the rise of heavy compositing, but works like Your Name make a much stronger case for it than most examples)... You can also go for extreme compositing effects as an aesthetic in its own right as in Ufotable's Fate works.

The other issue is that, well, we're not making a like for like comparison. The works from the 80s and 90s that tend to get remembered are the absolute best works, while today we're in a situation of overproduction and we're aware of all the works that are... unlikely to be remembered, lets say. All the same, there's definitely a certain quality to even the cheaper end of the bubble era work that seems to have been lost.

So that's my current thought on it. I definitely miss the look of old cel style... you can sort of simulate it digitally (there was a short in Star Wars Visions that went for a very 80s look) but it's a lot of work that will just make your video play worse with modern compression algorithms, just to be appreciated by a relatively niche group of fans so I can see why they don't. And of course, what really made those great older works was... a strong aesthetic vision, incredibly strong drawing, creative layouts and timing... things that certainly still exist despite the pressures of modern breakneck productions, the push to higher line count leading to a proliferation of overworked animation directors, the crumbling of the layout system, etc.

Anyway if you find that article, send it my way! Would be curious!

[kiwikipedia]

So like quick question sorry:why do we hate ki-adi-mundi? I know he looks funny n all but I’m genuinely curious

His vibes are rancid. Lmao im just joking, but also not really.

His vibes have always been 100% off to me and I could never really place it aside from bad man is rancid, but if you're prepared to strap your boots in and be here for the long haul here's a more detailed explanation:

Right off the bat, I can tell you without a doubt that Mundi committed war crimes on screen.

Yes, there were a number of atrocities committed throughout the Clone Wars— child soldiers, torture, slavery, attempting to destroy medical facilities, perfidy (multiple times over, thanks to Obi Wan), faking being a noncombatant (padme), multiple accounts of genocide, etc.— but where other Jedi have 'redeemable' traits to back them up, I personally don't believe that Ki Adi Mundi does.

(More below)

And most of the war crimes committed by Jedi— barring Child Soldiers— are not of a violent nature. Deceptive and somewhat morally incorrect? Absolutely. And the Clones are another can of worms entirely, but Mundi?

Well. During the second battle of Geonosis, Ki Adi and his clones willingly blowtorch civilians and non-combatants. According to the Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons or CCW/CCWC, you can only use flamethrowers on heavy machinery (like tanks) and to clear away terrain.

Protocol III on Prohibitions or Restrictions on the Use of Incendiary Weapons prohibits, in all circumstances, making [...] civilians or civilian objects, the object of attack by any weapon [...] designed to set fire [...] or to cause burn injury to persons through the action of flame, heat or a combination thereof, [...] Forest and other plants may not be a target unless they are used to conceal combatants or other military objectives.

On top of that, Mundi appears to lack empathy.

yes, Jedi are well aware and try not to cling to their emotions, but we see time and time again that there is a dividing line between not allowing emotions to control you and not feeling any empathy at all. Many Jedi do feel and display empathy, they might not say words that state as such, but their tone of voice, facial expressions, body language, and so on display this.

Mundi on the other hand?

Almost nothing.

In legends, when his entire family was murdered during the Clone Wars, pretty much just he just went "well that's the will of the Force" and moved on (yes, there's more to it and people will state that he 'overcame the darkness' but come on, we see like none of that).

He's one of the few Jedi we see who was in contact with and had a blood family, some of the others being Nico Diath and Plo Koon and while we don't see Nico Diath as much, we can assume that if Sha had been murdered, Plo wouldn't have been so flippant (as we see Plo showing empathy and love multiple times, and on the inverse, the bond he had with Sha was so strong that it sent Sha into a pain induced blackout when he died)

You'd think that there would be more of a reaction or maybe a moment to see him grieve in private over the death of his sister, five wives, and multiple daughters (and maybe sons) but nope.

As an added bonus, when Anakin Skywalker went to Ki-Adi Mundi about the death of his mother he basically just told him to get over it.

In the 03 Clone Wars, the Muunilist 10 rescues him at Hypori and push Grievous back. instead of taking this as a chance to retreat, Mundi wants to pursue General Grievous, despite the fact that he just saw the guy mow down a number of other Jedi, had him on the ropes, and took out three of the M10. All while Aalya and Shaak Ti were in critical condition. Sure, he might not have known that last part, but Mundi himself was in no shape to fight Grievous, and the M10, while cool and badass as they are, they are not Jedi and Grievous took them out faster than he took the Jedi down.

(in TCW it would've been different but 03 was Jedi Centric)

I digress.

There are a lot of other reasons why, you can find all sorts of discussions online, but these are basically my main reasons.

ALSO HIS VIBES ARE STILL RANCID

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (11)

word count; 12,58

summary; following the tragic events of your last call, Vince has given the team a few days off, covered by other shift rotations, and coping alone can be hard.

notes; prepare for a few tears, but a lot of smiling and blushing.

warnings; reference to death, mentions of a funeral service, mentions of panic attacks, reference to injury, fire & arson.

The first tear fell the second your front door closed behind you. It was like a weight had been sitting on your chest, crushing you slowly for hours, from the very second you’d woken up this morning.

It had all been numb, seeming detached from who you really were, meeting members of Chuck’s family, introducing yourself, answering questions from the medical side of it all as they all stood confused as to what had happened to their son, and having to remind yourself on a mantra that you hadn't been at blame, as the unwarranted guilt threatened to topple over you at any given moment.

A beautiful ceremony of life, words that made the back of your throat sting as you sat in the church pews and listened to tributes, and the slight smudge of mascara under your eyes that you’d tried to clean up as your eyes watered, but you’d held strong throughout the entirety of the funeral. The dress sticking to your body felt too tight, like it was clinging to every inch of your skin, pushing in on you and crushing you from the outside.

He’d had a fireman’s funeral, the team deciding that despite never getting the chance to pass his exams, he would be sent off the proper way, and Vince had offered no argument. The morning started at the firehouse, nine o’clock sharp, the lights on the van flashing silently with the sirens turned off. The hurst had guided the pathway, lines of firemen along the edges of the cemetery as his family had arrived, and Newt’s hand had found your own to squeeze tightly as the black car had rolled to a stop.

His father, his uncle, his brother, a childhood friend, his best friend, and Thomas. Those six men carried the wooden box holding your friend to the front of the church for the gathering, respectful and calm, his mother offering a speech dedicated to the team, and you’d almost broken on the spot. There was something mentioned about all of you, about how proud Chuck made them all every day, and how much he loved what he did. Apparently, he spoke about you all to his family, at every chance he got. You felt like they were an extension of the team by the end of it.

Your social battery was drained; the simple small talk and polite exchanges you’d shared with everyone, but it had been overwhelming. You were no stranger to funerals or death, but you’d never lost someone so close to you before. It was utterly terrifying, to care so deeply for a group of people, to allow your walls to come down and let them in, only for the ever-looming threat of losing them to always be hanging over your head, and yet, somehow, it only made you stronger.

You suspected Chuck himself had something to do with that.

You’d placed a rose the same shade of red as the fire engines down on the top of his coffin, and whispered your thanks to him, for being your first friend in firehouse ‘21. You wouldn’t be who you were without him, you weren’t even sure whether you would have been able to stick it out there without his support, and without him, you certainly wouldn’t have the family you did today. You had him to thank for all of it, and you’d never be able to repay him.

You were invited out with them all, the family had booked a small conference room to go to, to share memories and chat, but the idea of it seemed like it might throw you over the edge, and you didn’t feel like having any more public breakdowns for a while. Your team had seen enough of you crying in recent weeks, and you felt like you’d done enough of that. You knew that Chuck wouldn’t want you to cry, he’d want you to make a cup of herbal tea - something stolen from Gally - and to watch a movie with Adam Sandler in or a rerun of Brooklyn 99, and he’d want you to smile, because that’s what he’d encouraged every other time you’d been sad.

He had never wanted anyone to do anything but smile, he was a ray of pure sunshine, warm and friendly and enough to light up any room or mood. You’d been sure to tell his mother that, and she’d held you in a tight hug that left you feeling weak, like you were being pulled down to the ground, the emotions overwhelming.

And so, you’d denied their request to join them as respectfully as you could, because you didn’t want to mourn surrounded by people. You didn’t want to do your mourning in a formal black dress that was smart enough for the occasion and heels that made your feet ache, watching as Newt pulled at the collar of his dress shirt, and the rest of your team wander around in the formal firemen’s uniform that was usually reserved for special occasions with a happier undertone, breaching on being tarnished, and you wouldn't let that happen.

So, you’d driven yourself home, eyes blurring a little and the clock tickling just past midday before the dam finally broke and you were slamming the front door shut a little harder than necessary. One gasping breath as you stood still, a second to follow, and then you were kicking off your shoes. The tears fell freely, hot and salty and unending as you sobbed, shoes abandoned and soles aching as you reached up to try and roughly jerk the zipper on the back of your dress down.

As you peeled it away from your body, you felt like you could breathe again, the pressure having been the opposite of soothing and you worry you were going to tear it in your haste to get it gone. It was chucked across the room, haphazardly into the laundry basket in the corner, and your stockings did rip as you tried to shed them from your skin. Elegant and professional, your appearance had been perfect, but you had felt the opposite. You felt broken, damaged and wounded and messy, like your emotions and inner feelings were leaking out for everyone to see, your deepest and darkest fears on display to be gawked at, your innermost worries open for public viewing.

It was a churning pool in your stomach, one that chilled you from the core, blood running cold in your veins, and you shivered a little. The smell of your perfume felt wrong where it lingered on the air from where you had sprayed it before, and you collapsed down in the seat at your dresser, hating the face that was staring back at you in the mirror.

It was wrong, you looked so professional, pointed eyeliner and a flick of lipstick, more makeup than you’d worn in a long time, but it was a mask, a shield to hide behind as you put up your defences against the pain you were experiencing, armour to wear to hold the pain at bay for long enough, but now it felt heavy. You grabbed for a makeup wipe, two coming loose and then a third, before you were scrubbing at your face. Flawless skin and artful designs were scrubbed away, your flesh blotchy underneath and flushed from the day’s events already, and it was only growing sorer as you scrubbed your skin clean.

The tears kept running, silent and slow as they flowed, and you struggled to even find the strength to push yourself back to standing up. The cold air in your apartment made you shiver, the simple but comfortable underwear was already feeling uncomfortable on your skin, everything did, now. Your fingers were shaking as they turned on the tap, trembling as you washed your face free of any remaining grime until you felt fresh, and you managed to get a handle on your tears.

They stopped somewhere between brushing your hair up out of your face and rubbing some moisturising cream onto the skin that was red and raw from salty tears. Tugging on your sweats and rolling them at the ankle away from your feet. Unclipping the bra from behind your back, it felt like the final restricting garment that was binding you to the pain of the day. It was left dropped to the floor, alongside torn stockings, kicked into the corner. You were fishing out a long-sleeved shirt from your dresser, the comfortable maroon coloured one with the hole in one sleeve for your thumb to slip through, when there was a knock at the door.

Nothing too startling, it wasn’t too quiet with the traffic outside, neither was it dark as light poured in from the sun outside, but you were one edge, and so the sudden intrusion on your quiet was shocking. Tugging the fabric over your head as you walked, and adjusting it across your front, you stuck your thumb through the hole and wiggled your fingers a little to grow comfortable, before you were opening the front door.

You were a little surprised to see who was on the other side. You had expected a neighbour, possibly the grumpy woman that lived a floor below, but you hadn't expected the towering frame of a familiar firefighter. He’d changed too, smart navy uniform swapped out for some jeans and an oversized jumper that would make him look smaller than he was if it wasn’t for broad shoulders and tall stature you knew lived underneath. Soft brown hair was freed from a white cap, and his face held equally as much sorrow as yours did.

“Thomas.. what are you doing here? How did you even know..?”

“I remembered. From the night we went to the vets. You pointed out which window was yours, I counted the floors, and tried to work it out. The resident two doors down told me where to find you.” Pink tinged his cheeks at the confession, and you laughed lightly, his hands rubbing together as he moved to stand up fully from where he’d been leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “I thought you might need a friend right now.”

“You didn’t want to go to the little get together his family arranged?”

“Absolutely not.” He grimaced, shoulders sagging a little more. “I loved Chuck, I did, but I don’t think he’d be mad at me for not being able to handle another few hours of his crying relatives looking at me like I was the one who failed them, because I was supposed to be his lieutenant.”

“You’re not allowed to blame yourself if I’m not.” You whispered, his eyes sparkling a little in amusement as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, before his gaze was dropping down again.

“Look, I know my presence is unannounced, and that I am crossing all kinds of boundaries right now, but you were the first person I thought of when I got home and started feeling alone, and so I got changed and drove here without really thinking about it. I know it’s wrong, and you probably need time for yourself, and so I can go if you want me to, b-”

“Don’t go.”

He let out a relieved sound as you cut off his rambling, rubbing a hand over his forehead, and daring to look you in the eye. “Are you sure? I mean, my company right now, are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure about ninety-nine percent of the things going on in my life right now, but I’m pretty sure you’re one thing I’m absolutely certain of.” He smiled a little at your words, something soft and adoring flickering over his features, and he held his arms out a little wider for you.

“C’mere, sweetheart.”

You didn’t wait, letting yourself topple forwards into his grip as your hold on the door to keep you steady and upright in your weakened state moved to him, letting him support you as your arms wrapped around his neck, his around your waist to pull you flush up to his body for support, and you felt like you’d finally found your comfort as his warm breath washed over your cheek, before his face was burying in your neck, and a sweet kiss was being pressed to the skin there briefly.

His hands dipped a little lower, no doubt feeling you tremble against his hold, knees buckling as you relinquished the last of your self-control and stability to him, to hook under your ass, and lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him hold you a little tighter as he stepped blindly into your apartment, kicking the door shut and leaning back against it as he held you, and the presence of wet tears and muffled sniffles against your shoulder wasn’t missed.

You raised a hand, brushing through his hair gently, and taking the time to comfort him this time. You pressed a kiss to his temple, and again, before squeezing yourself around him a little tighter and letting him reciprocate the actions in silent acknowledgement of your comfort, as he let himself break down now he was behind closed doors, much like you had.

Your feet slipped back to the floor a few minutes later, when his heart had slowed and breathing calmed, and the moment of insure weakness had passed, leaving you to lean against him, staring up at red-rimmed eyes as his hands rubbed circles onto your hips, silence being all that was needed.

“Thanks for letting me in.”

“Thanks for coming over.” Your words were barely even audible, shared into the space between you both, and he nodded his head, licking over dry lips, and clearing his throat slightly.

“It was really no trouble. Like, at all.” You smiled, forehead bumping against his chin as you leaned forward, before your cheek was pressing to his shoulder, and his arms were circling more fully around you for the hushed conversation. “I was hoping you’d let me take you to lunch, or something? We could hang out, try not to think about it all for a few hours.”

“God, it is lunchtime, isn’t it?” You rubbed at your eyes, gaze flickering to the clock on the wall overhead the open-plan kitchen counter. “I haven’t even had breakfast, yet, I felt too nauseous this morning to even consider eating something.”

“You’ve not eaten yet?” He pulled back a little further, his hands coming up to sit over your jaw, allowing his thumbs to sweep gently over your cheeks as he directed your eyes back to meet his own, and you shrugged, a smile on your lips.

“Oh, c’mon, Tommy. It’s not exactly anything new for us to miss meals in our line of work. I swear, that siren waits until I make something to eat to ring.” He chuckled, nodding his head, before pulling you forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, your hands bunching up in the fabric of his jumper around his waist, holding onto him tightly and hoping it conveyed what you couldn't say with words, a silent offering in gratitude for simply having his presence. “My body would probably be more shocked at a regular eating and sleeping schedule than it would one missed meal and a day without needing to nap to get through it.”

“Well, I guess we’d better start with breakfast, then.”

“You haven’t had breakfast?” You questioned, hopping up onto one of the bar stools beside the kitchen counter, and you watched with some form of amusement as Thomas moved across the room to open your fridge, clearly making himself comfortably at home in your home as he rooted through the contents.

“No, I’ve had breakfast.” He hummed, beginning to pull things out and stack them on the counter. “Well, kinda’. I picked up coffee on the way to the.. on the way, and I got a couple of muffins to go, too.”

“Muffins do not count. I bet they were chocolate chip ones, too.”

“Only one of them was chocolate chip!” He defended himself, the fridge rattling a little as the door closed and he turned to stare at you from the other side of the counter, eyes narrowing a little, before a teasing smirk was appearing on his face once again. “They only had one chocolate one left, the other was blueberry, which is fruit, so it’s basically like eating an apple.”

“You’re so full of shit, I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong that is, and how unhealthy that is, for a lieutenant of a fire station, no less.”

“Yeah, well, I have to live life a little unhealthily. If I didn’t how would I get cute paramedics to fuss over me?” He winked, the moment slipping away from you both for just a second as you gaped at him, feeling a warm blush race over your skin to find a home on your cheeks, and he chuckled to himself cheekily at his ability to make you so flustered, your eyes rolling but it was out of fondness as your head dipped. “So, pancakes? I’m really good at making pancakes.”

“You sure? Something about you just screams ‘I-cannot-cook-for-shit’.”

“I take that as a raging insult. I’m an excellent chef. An excellent and usually healthy chef, actually. I mean, I’m a lieutenant at a fire station, I’ve gotta’ stay in shape.” You scoffed, your words used against you again, and your eyes trailed along broad shoulders and arms for a second, taking in the muscles you knew to exist there that were hidden under a baggy jumper. “Are you checking me out right now?”

“No.”

“You totally are, you’re checking me out.” He gasped the words, reaching up to grab at his pecs like a woman would grab her tits, and you grinned at his actions, lips pursed together to try and contain it as your heels ached, and his jaw dropped, as though he was utterly modified and disgusted at the idea. “I feel so violated right now. Take your eyes off of me, this is disrespectful, my eyes are up here, you know.” He pointed up to his face, and you raised a brow, hopping down from your seat to around the counter, his gaze following you as you moved past him.

Pressing the button on the small countertop coffee machine and placing a mug underneath, you turned back to him, hands wrapping around his wrist to bring them down, your eyes dragging purposefully slowly over his chest, up to his face, and he there was a more serious look on his face as you did this time. Leaning up a little, his breathing hitched, eyes fluttering to sit hooded as he leaned in enough to bump his nose against your own, and you let out a breathy laugh. “It ain’t nothing I haven’t already seen, big boy.”

You pulled back, laughing at the shocked look on his face as he blinked to clear his mind, and you turned away to face the coffee machine, the man behind you stuttering a little bit. “You little tease.”

“Not a tease, maybe I’m just playing hard to get.”

You replaced the mug, making him a freshly brewed coffee too as soon as yours was finished, and Thomas was rooting through your cupboards to find the equipment he wanted. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or excited. Insulted, because, after all we’ve been through, I figured I’d at least have a place in the runnings, but excited, because you just admitted that I at least have a shot.”

“I thought you already knew you did.” You blew the steam from your coffee mug gently, and he found the mixing jugs he was looking for, his eyes twinkling a little as he glanced at you, turning back to the pile of ingredients he had made.

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s nice to hear you say it.”

“Hm.” You took a sip, settling yourself back in your seat, and watched as he began to crack eggs, clearly working on mental estimates rather than an actual recipe as he created a batter. “Well, for the record, you have a really great shot. Good ranking in the runnings, or whatever. Go for the gold.”

“Are you my top prize?”

“I could be.” You tried to convince yourself the blush on your cheeks was simply a bodily reaction to the heat steaming from the mug.

“Then I’m in it to win.”

“I hope so.” You whispered, the coffee machine beeping again as another cycle came to an end, and you nodded towards it, letting the moment be carried away, left on a high note, and not allowing yourself to overthink it or start to become doubtful of your decisions. “That coffee is for you, I made you a cappuccino.”

“I love cappuccinos.”

“I know, you like the foam on top so you can lick it off your upper lip.” He paused, glancing up at you, something you were unfamiliar with flickering across his features, before he was nodding his head.

He didn’t say anything, and for a second, you worried you had messed up somehow, that you’d done something wrong or freaked him out, or made an error, but you were certain you were right, you remembered Thomas telling you about his love for the frothy drink a few months ago when the station coffee machine had broke and you’d all had to make coffee from a kettle, and you’d seen him lick the froth from his upper lip with a grin every time he had one of the drink, when he thought nobody was looking, and he could be a child again for just a few seconds.

Then, though, you caught sight of the smile he was trying to hide, the way his face was lit up a little as he stared into the recipe, beating the eggs with a fork, a variety of other utensils laid out before him. He turned, placing a pan over the hob and starting it up on it’s lowest flame, before dropping a large wedge of butter into the pan to start melting, the lump sliding across the metal surface slowly as it began to heat up.

“So, these pancakes might be a little off. I normally use protein powder instead of flour, so, go easy on me.”

He added a large scoop of flour to the mix, milk being splashed in by eye-measurement only and some butter added, the pan popping a little behind him as it heated up, and you raised a single and slightly judgey brow at the unusual mix of quantities he was adding before mixing it. It seemed to work out for him, because somewhere along the line, it had formed a decent batter, and he was scooping out enough to slowly drop into the pan.

It sizzled at it cooked, his back to you as he worked at the hob, and you twisted a little more in your seat, facing forwards to the counter and resting your elbows on it, to be able to balance your chin on the top of your hands. Scanning your eyes over Thomas slowly, your cheeks flushed with heat a little as you realised you were very definitely checking him out, but you couldn’t help it.

His broad shoulders couldn't be hidden, no matter how big his jumper was, filling his frame widely. The muscles of his back became evident occasionally as he moved, the soft cotton of his jumper pressing to them but never becoming stained, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to cook as butter and oil in the pan popped, the veins along his forearms becoming a little more prominent each time he flipped a pancake over, or served it up onto a plate.

He was humming a song to himself, hips swaying a little as he occasionally mumbled a word or two, barley even audible to you as you listened in and you didn’t recognise the song but it sounded like something that would have been made in the 70s, your lips sneaking up into a soft smile. It was unusually domestic, it had been years since you’d ever had anyone to cook for in your own home, and you couldn't remember ever having anyone cook for you.

Well, bar when you’d been living at home, and a child, but that didn't count.

You weren’t blind to how attractive Thomas was; he was attractive in a beautiful kind of way. Soft chocolate-coloured locks and golden eyes that seemed to change shade with his mood, skin imperfect with constellations of pretty moles that only made him seem more like a piece of art. Of course, being the lieutenant of a firehouse team had its perks, he was often fitting in workouts at the firehouse on slow days between calls and you’d seen the stretch of his shirt across biceps and lean pectorals, and you’d been caught staring when he had comforted you after Chuck’s death. You’d been close enough to him so many times now that you were no stranger to the hard muscle under his clothes and soft but warm skin to cover it, or the long fingers on calloused palms that often found their way to you.

You’d just never really allowed yourself to be affected by any of it before now, putting up walls meant shutting out anything that might cause you to connect to someone, including physical attraction. Now, though, you’d been forced to take those walls down. You were happy about it, even if you weren’t happy today, but it meant noticing the more intimate things. It meant you noticed the scar on the side of his nose, almost indistinguishable until you’d been allowed close enough to see it, or the way the moles on his face continued all the way down along his flesh, but were more heavily grouped on his left side.

He turned, a plate for both of you in hand as the heat had been turned off, pan sitting there to cool, and he wandered over, pushing the condiments he’d assembled from your cupboards into the middle of the table, and you chuckled at the small collection of fruits he’d chopped on a separate plate; strawberries and apples, all you had, but he’d slipped something healthy in there.

“You want me to get the cutlery?”

“I found it. Third drawer across from the fridge.” He smiled, turning, and grabbing a matching set of knives and forks for each of you, before settling himself on the opposite side of the kitchen island, and you were already reaching for the syrup as he placed a piece of apple into his mouth, a satisfyingly loud crunch sounding out as he chewed it. Grabbing the knife and fork from the counter, your hands hovered over the plates, holding in mid-air before your first cut, and you could feel Thomas’ eyes on you. “Is it okay? I can make something else.”

“It’s perfect. Nobody has ever really cooked for me before.”

“You and Fry cook at the house all the time! He’s always making you meals.” He looked confused, brows pulling together and he sliced off a piece of pancake, stabbing it through a strawberry and sweeping it through some syrup, before chewing happily, and waiting for you to explain.

“No, that’s different. I mean, nobody has ever cooked for me before. Just made me food, in my own kitchen, for the sake of it. When I cook with Fry at the firehouse, that's cool, but we’re making lunch for everyone and he’s testing recipes. This is different. You didn’t have to come over and see me, or cook for me, or comfort me, but here you are.”

“Here I am.” He whispered, a sweet expression on his face as he chewed, eyes flicking between you and his food, and you finally chopped off your first piece, bringing it to your mouth.

You didn’t need to thank him, he already knew, just from your words, how much it meant and the message you’d been trying to convey had been shared. Every experience you made with Thomas was like something entirely new, you weren’t sure why or how it had happened, he was never someone you thought you’d end up in such a situation with, and if someone had told you six months ago that he was the person you’d be turning to in your grief, you’d have laughed.

It was good food, the two of you sitting quietly for a few moments, a grin on his face as you approved of his cooking, warmth spreading over his cheeks at the compliment, and it was well-deserved. You wondered why he didn’t cook at the house more often. The fruit between you was dwindling, though he had eaten the majority of it, and you were at least a third of the way through your food before he spoke again, this time, his eyes fixed on his plate, voice barely above a whisper, but it seemed to fit the delicate mood. “You looked beautiful today.”

You paused, swallowing your mouthful thickly, and Thomas’s fingers were tapping at the counter as the other one navigated his fork around his plate, watching it intensely as though it was the most intense action in the world, but he seems to sense your gaze, his lips pursed as he looked up, one shoulder rising and falling in a shrug.

“I think you always look beautiful, even right now when you want to cry, but you looked really beautiful today. Sad, heartbroken, but beautiful, too. In an epic Ancient Greek tragedy kind of way.”

“So did you.” You murmured, heat washing over your face and burning at you as his brows raised a little, and you let out a frustrated exhale through your nose. “Handsome, I mean. You looked really smart. And good. In your formal suit.” The word vomit was starting again, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his lips as he stared at you, but the hole was already being dug and you were just falling deeper, unable to stop it. “Not that your normal fireman stuff doesn’t look good, you look really good in that, too. Fuck, are you going to shut me up any time soon or are you just going to let me continue embarrassing myself?”

He grinned, toothy and wide, a sight that made your guts twist a little, and your stomach feel like you’d lost gravity for a second, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “I think it’s cute when you ramble.”

You were even more flustered now, cursing a little under your breath, and staring back down at your half-eaten meal, poking the top pancake angrily with your fork like it was to blame for your embarrassment.

“I also think it’s pretty cute when you get embarrassed about rambling, and you blush, and you get all flustered because of me. I like knowing I can make you flustered.”

“Shut up.” You scowled, and he chuckled, but gave in, quieting his laughter with another mouthful of his food, and silence took over again.

It was a few more minutes before the heat bled away, and you were able to look back up to meet his eye, finding the amusement in the situation now that it had passed, but the dark cloud of the day was still hanging over you both.

You poked at your food, stirring it around the plate for a while, and eventually, you had finished your meal, moving on to snacking on what was left of the fruit in the middle of the table. You appreciated the gesture, because you were certain that had you been left to your own devices you wouldn’t have eaten, you probably would have spent the whole day moving around in some kind of daze, wallowing in your pity before eventually dropping into bed. Tomorrow would have been a mess, and yet, it was looking a little more promising now.

“So, do you want to talk about how you’re doing?”

You paused mid-chew, looking up to face him as you felt more like you were choking down the bite of apple, rather than swallowing it, and you sighed, your bottom lip finding itself being worried between your teeth as you thought about it, before eventually shrugging. “There’s not much to say.”

You stood, moving around him, breaking away from the bubble you had created together in order to start loading up the dishwasher, any kind of menial task to avert yourself from the conversation, but he clearly wasn’t letting it go that easily. He stood, his empty plate following, slipping it onto the rack beside your things, and reaching for the pan next. “I know you’re not okay, but you’re not alone, because I’m not really okay either.”

“Tommy, it’s different.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t shut me out.” You closed the machine, loading it up with a capsule and pressing a series of buttons, the machine humming to life, and you turned around, leaning against it, arms crossed as you stared at the floor. It was more like a glare, as though the tiles of the kitchen had personally offended you, but it softened considerably when a finger hooked under your chin, dirty sneakers filling your vision as he stepped in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. “Stop blaming yourself, sweetheart. You can’t, because it’s not your fault. It was a whole load of unfortunate incidents that all came together, and you couldn't have known any of them. You did your best, you did everything you could, and sometimes even when you try your hardest, bad things still happen, but that's not your fault.”

You sniffed lightly, a soft sob leaving you before tears were beginning to slip free, and he wiped them away gently with his thumbs, both hands now cupping your cheeks, and you allowed yourself to once again be weak with him. Your hands were shaking, finding his forearms, smoothing along until you reached his wrists, the back of his hands, pulling his touch away from your face until you could wrap his arms around yourself and press your face into his chest.

He didn’t resist, instead, he lifted a hand to cup the back of your head, his cheek coming down to press softly to your crown as the other slipped around your waist to hold you close, and your cries were muffled as you clung to him. As you did, as you sought comfort from him and let your pain out, you couldn’t help but settle, decide that you were far too comfortable in his arms and with this team, too comfortable at this house to ever let it go. You’d always wanted a family, the bond that came with finding a group of people you could bare your very soul to, to find someone who would see you in your worst state as well as your best and still stick by your side, and you’d found it all.

Holding him a little tighter, you found the tears were slowing, misery was still weighing heavy on your heart, but it was a little easier to carry when you let them help you.

“Can you stay?”

“Stay?” He echoed, letting you pull back to wipe at damp cheeks, before you were nodding, and giving him the best smile that you could muster in that moment.

“Like, here, with me. If you don’t have anything else to do today.”

“Only thing I have to do today is you.” He smiled, and you knew there wasn’t supposed to be an innuendo in the words, but he seemed to realise the same moment you did, a laugh breaking free from your lips as his face flushed with a pink blush, sitting up on his cheekbones and spreading right to his ears, a shocked look forming. “That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.”

“I gathered that.”

“What I meant to say, is that I don’t have any plans except being with you, for as long as you want me to be here.” You smiled, letting the moment go rather than teasing further, because the colour on his cheeks was already too much.

“Wanna’ watch a movie? I’m pretty sure we could get all the way through one without any distractions, there’s no alarm going off today. Hopefully.”

“Knowing our luck, your building's fire alarm will go off.” He teased, his arm lifting up to tuck you into his side and settle back over your shoulders, guiding you through the space to the couch and living room only a few metres away.

“Well, if it does, I know that I’m the safest I could possibly be since I’m here with you.” You tapped the tips of his nose as you settled down, Thomas slumping into the cushions and spreading out a little as you sat beside him, legs crossed under yourself as you reached for the remotes, trying to reset your emotions as you scrolled through the comedy section, deciding that it was definitely the time for something light-hearted and fun. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want is fine by me.” His hand found a place on your thigh, just above your knee, casual and relaxed, and you paused for a second. Glancing down at it, you realised your pause hadn't been from insecurity or anything unsure, but simply from the overwhelming shock of being so comfortable in the action. You didn’t feel put on edge, or tense, it just felt right, and you rested your hand over the top of his, his fingers spreading out to lace loosely with your own, and turning over to hold onto you properly. Pulling the appendage a little closer, your joint hands sat connected in your lap as you scrolled the movies.

You settled on something easy, something with a lot of laughs and giggles, and enough to boost your mood without even having to think about it. You shifted, spending a while sitting up, playing with the fingers of a hand that didn’t belong to you, before he’d seemingly had enough of that. Thomas lifted that arm about thirty minutes in, forcing you to settle back into the couch but wrapping that arm around your shoulders and pulling you backwards, tucking you into his side.

His fingers played with your hair, and you let a hand splay out over his stomach, and he felt like he was a permanent part of your life. It wasn’t a comparison to a piece of furniture, he wasn’t an essential but taken-for-granted piece of house-ware like a frying pan or a kettle, but instead, he was a comfortable addition that you didn’t feel like letting go of.

He was like a throw pillow or a blanket that went on the end of your bed, something for comfort and accessorising, something you could live without but would fight to have taken away if someone tried. He’d wormed his way in, you weren’t sure when or how, but he’d gone from hating you, to tolerating you, to accepting you, to caring for you, to something else. His nose brushed along your hairline every so often, soft smiles and muffled laughter as he kept his voice low, like the comments he made would shatter the mood if spoken above the whisper.

You never moved away from him. He never made you.

Rather, he held you close, and if there were a few times when the emotions all became a little too much, when the tears came again, when the crushing guilt you were working on dismantling threatening itself again, you would let the edge of his jumper soak up the tears and he wouldn't say anything, simple holding you close, and tracing patterns onto your skin as his fingers ran up and down your arm or held onto your shoulder, and if he got a little emotional partway through, or if at the only point in the movie when his arm unwrapped itself from around you, it was to wipe at his cheeks, or cover his face as he tried to protect what he had left of his emotional stability, you only squeezed him a little tighter.

You watched a second movie, one that you assumed was supposed to be a sequel to the first one you had watched, but you hadn't been able to follow the plot that much. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts like a tornado, ricocheting from every side of your brain.

You wondered how Newt was doing, whether he was still with Chuck’s family, whether he was sick of having his cheeks pinched and shoulders squeezed in a tight hug by older family members and swooning relatives. He had a way with words, he had a way with charming people; charismatic and cheeky. He was able to find a joke or a story for any situation, and something about him put you at ease just to be around. He was like medicine for the soul, patching you up from the inside out and making flowers bloom in spaces that had been cold and frozen. Maybe he’d had enough, maybe he’d gone home, or perhaps he’d called Derek for support. You hoped it was the latter, you had high hopes for the two of them.

Your mind also brushed over Brenda and Minho. You had no doubt that the two of them were together, that they were comforting each other. You would see her soon, you made a note of it. Calling people up and asking them to hang out wasn’t something you were used to, but you’d make the effort for her. You’d take her for coffee, or lunch, or simply show up with a bottle of wine and her favourite snacks, and take a girl’s night that you were in desperate need of.

You were picking at a loose thread that was dangling from the inside of his hoodie, a different colour to the pal jumper, it was more of a khaki green shade, and you suspected it wasn’t a thread from his jumper but from the t-shirt he wore underneath, and you jumped a little as you realised that there was a voice in your ear, closer and sharper than the television, which seemed or have been turned down and had become muffled, and you startled slightly, a chuckle following it as you moved to sit up.

Your eyes had been drooping a little, you’d been close to nodding off, not having even realised it as you absentmindedly toyed with a loose thread and let your thoughts take over.

“You haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said, have you?”

“Not even one.” You mumbled, glancing around, before rubbing a hand over your eyes, and noting the late-afternoon sun that was beginning to lower towards the horizon, fading light as the hours ticked on, and you sighed, shaking yourself down a little and his arm slipped free from around you to let you stand as you wobbled a little on legs that hadn't been used in a while. “I was thinking. I got wrapped up in my thoughts.”

“That’s okay, I wasn’t saying anything important, I was talking about the movie.”

“I’ll be right back, just, hit rewind. And pause. I’ll focus, I swear.” He nodded, legs popped up on your coffee table and you weren’t aware of just when he’d made himself at home, an air of domesticity that he seemed comfortable in. The image was burned into your mind as you wandered away, closing the bathroom door and taking a deep breath. The cushions were spread out around him, he was nestled among them, head lolled back against the edge of the couch, feet popped up on the table, shoes kicked off by the couch somewhere and an obviously wrinkled patch on his jumper where you’d been leaning.

You didn’t want to let it go.

You flushed, the sound drowning out the occasional shuffling noises Thomas made as he adjusted himself, the squeaky springs in your couch, and then the sound of the tap to follow, lavender overwhelming your senses as your hand wash flooded the room with the pleasant scent.

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, red-rimmed eyes and cheeks a little raw from salt, and you switched hot water to cold, cupping your hands under the faucet and bringing your hands up to your face as you leaned over, trying to ease sensitive skin and wash your eyes, wash away where eyelashes were still clumped together, washing away the residual pain. Like a cold shock, waking you up from the hazy slumber you were threatening to fall into once again, and the emotional turmoil of the day had been just too exhausting.

You snapped the scrunchie from your hair to sit around your wrist instead, the dull ache on your scalp eased as you ran your fingers over it, your hair sitting in odd shapes that only a hairbrush would be able to truly tame, and Thomas was looking at you already. “I want to take a nap.”

“I can head out.” He rubbed his hands along his jeans, reaching from the remotes as he lifted his feet down from the coffee table to the floor and switching the television off. You padded your way across the polished wood towards him, taking his hands in your own, and his brows furrowed a little. “What?”

“I want us to take a nap.”

A myriad of emotions moved across his features. He started with confusion, before he was moving to something between bashful and shy, a sweet smile following that and his expression smoothed over until he was simply staring at you, nodding his head slowly and twisting his hands more to lace the fingers of one hand together, and letting you guide him through the halls.

He followed after you, feet scuffing on the floors, and sliding in his socks, and he paused outside of the bedroom door as your fingers found the handle, pulling you to a slight stop, and there was a nervous look on his face.

“Are you sure?” You weren’t sure what he meant, and he seemed to sense it from the shifting in your expression, because his eyes left yours, flicking up to the closed bedroom door long enough to signal what he meant. “I just, well, I mean.. your bedroom. It’s a private space, y’know, and I know there’s this thing between us, but I just want to be sure you really want it.”

You only pushed the door open, stepping into it backwards and taking him with you, and his lips inched up at the edges into a fuller smile, gaze leaving yours to take in the room. It was still a little messy, you hadn't bothered to properly tidy up from before when he’d arrived and the blankets on your bed were still pulled haphazardly tidily from when you had crawled out of bed this morning with barely enough energy to face the day. He took it all in, observing the space that was so intimate to you, taking in every detail, and he watched as you pulled the curtains shut, blocking out some of the light to cast a darker atmosphere over the room.

His fingers were running over the books on your shelf, and you settled down onto the bed, edging your way up it and tucking yourself down underneath cold blankets, shuddering a little and peeling them back to make a space for him when he was finished observing. He took the hint, turning to see you, and stepping a little closer to the bed.

He rested a knee on the edge of the mattress, a hand reaching behind his head to peel his jumper up and over his head, and you didn't even bother to hide the lingering of your eyes on the skin that was revealed, before you were watching him shake his hair free and throwing his jumper away to rest on your dresser chair.

He crawled his way up towards you, pressed a prolonged kiss to your forehead, before flopping down onto the mattress beside you. You lifted the blankets up, tucking them around him as he made himself comfortable, one hand resting under his pillow beneath his head, and facing you as his legs crooked, and he adjusted the blankets more securely around himself. His eyes found yours once he was settled, something that was both awkward and comfortable at the same time, and he sighed as the feeling washed over you both.

You waited a moment longer, his other hand resting just above the edge of the covers that were sitting around your middle, before you gave in to the temptation swelling within you, and you reached out. Smoothing your hand over the top of his own tentatively, he smiles, turning his hand to weave your fingers together once again, like magnets, your hand now only having a home as long as it was wrapped with his own.

“Was Chuck your first loss?” His words barely reached your ears; they were spoken so quietly, and you were certain that in the entirety of the day, you’d yet to actually use your voice at the volume it usually was, in fear of damaging an already fragile aura.

“No.” You mumbled, swallowing thickly, your eyes sliding shut to hold back fresh tears that may threaten to rise, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter in support. “He was the first friend I lost, though.”

It went silent for a moment after that, enough time for you to get a handle on your emotions, before you were opening your eyes back up to meet swirling honey-brown that were watching you through a somewhat sleepy gaze. “The first loss of someone I really cared about was hard. His name was Ben.”

His voice cracked a little as he spoke, and you dared to shuffle an inch closer across your pillow towards his, the bedding barely even making a sound as you moved minutely. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want to. I want you to know about me.” He let out a shaky breath, and you realised that this was perhaps the first time he’d spoken about it since it had ever happened, and so it was just as therapeutic for him as talking about Chuck was for you, even if you didn’t want to. “It hit hard, I liked him, he seemed like a cool guy. He was a lieutenant candidate with me, we were training together. It was competitive but all in fun and games, nothing serious. He was better than I was, he’d been preparing longer, he was definitely going to get the promotion when our house lieutenant retired. He’d been there years, I’d only been there for three months, but it felt like three days.”

You chuckled a little at his words, his expression brightening a little at the sound, seeming to perk up just slightly, and he tugged you a little closer, your cheek pressing to the end of your pillow as his own head remained firmly planted in the centre of the opposite one.

“We got trapped, burning building, it was all coming down. Nothing new. I was trained for the situation, and I tried so hard to get to him, but I couldn’t, he took a piece of debris straight into his abdomen, he was dead before I’d even made it across the room.” He choked down a lump in his throat, and your heart cracked a little in your chest at the broken look that flicked across his features. “I blamed myself for so long. I kept going over the moment, so sure there was something I could have done, that I could have run faster, asking myself if I hesitated just because of the job I wanted that he would have gotten.”

“Tommy..”

“I did all I could. I did my best. I know that now, and I don’t feel guilty, but sometimes it just hurts to think about it.”

“Thank you for telling me.” You could see that it was hard for him, and that he was reopening old wounds just to make you feel better, and it was a silent promise, something more permanent and solid, a confirmation that he was here for you, and that he wouldn't let you fall. That he was inside of those walls now and that he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon, his thumb playing gently with your own as you fell quiet once again.

“Newt’s first loss was a guy called Alby.” He eventually spoke, and you looked up to him again, brows raising slightly. “Before I even joined this firehouse. I remember Newt telling me about him, though. It took Newt a long time to get over it. He was new, basically a candidate, if they have that thing for paramedics. Do you? Have that kinda’ thing for paramedics?”

“We call ‘me greenies. Because on their first few cases, they usually look a little green, and throw up.”

“I like that. Greenies. That’s good.” He chuckled, and you shrugged one shoulder, letting him continue when he was ready. “He was the greenie, I guess, and Alby was the house chief. He took Newt under his wing, fresh outta’ the academy, early graduate at just twenty, and they became good friends. About a year in, they got in some trouble, Newt never really told me the full story, but Alby died on the stretcher to the hospital. Newt tried to pump his heart all the way there, he was sure that if he just kept pumping, his heart would start beating on its own again. It didn’t.”

You didn’t have anything to say to that, a pang of sadness for your best friend racing through your veins, and your eyes flicked over the edge of his pillow, contemplating getting a little closer, but he seemed to make that decision for you, shuffling himself up further toward you until his face was balanced on the edge of his pillow like yours, the soft pants he let out occasionally able to felt against the tip of your nose.

“Then, of course, there’s Brenda.” Your heart sank at the mention, and you knew she had to have lost someone along the line somewhere, but you hated the tone in his voice. “Arguably, the worst of them all. She really was the candidate, at a firehouse a few miles over, with her brother. He was a couple of years older, his name was George, he inspired her to become a firefighter. Apparently, they played firemen together ever since they were little, she followed in his footsteps.”

“I never even knew she has a brother.”

He lifted your hands up, instead of stretched out between your bodies, they were folded up near your faces between you both, resting on the mattress and holding tightly. “He was on Squad, she was on Truck - of course - and the Squad team got trapped on an upper floor. Everyone but her brother made it out. She finished her candidacy, passed her exams, and transferred to a new house, our house, she needed a fresh start.”

“Not that I don’t want to know, but, why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I want you to know that you’re not to blame, and that everybody blamed themselves after a loss, but we all moved on, because we found each other and we let ourselves grieve without holding onto it.” He lifted your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, and you watched his lips move slowly along your hand, dragging along your skin.

“My first-ever loss on the job was a patient, in my first month. A stab wound victim, he died on the way to the hospital, while I was trying to hold the wound shut. I considered quitting, it hurt, not like this does, but it hurt because I felt like a failure.” Your smile only widened as his kisses moved as far as your wrist, his face inching ever closer to your own, able to taste the sweet syrup still on his breath from your shared late-breakfast hours ago.

“I’m glad you didn’t, because if you had then I wouldn’t get you now.”

His nose bumped against your own, his lashes tickling your cheek as lids lay closed and your own followed, darkness surrounding you as every other sense went into overdrive on him. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his nose brushing against yours and his breath tickling your lips, the tingle that shot along you at the barely present brush of his lips that you wondered if you were imagining it as so light when he adjusted himself on the cushion, but the connection you were waiting for never came.

Instead, you caught the sound of a soft sigh, and his hand squeezing a little tighter around yours, before he was letting go, and begging his hand up to sit over your waist under the covers, fingers spreading out until they reached your spine.

“Tommy?”

He hummed, nose nudging a little more roughly against yours as he’d begun to fall away. “Yeah, angel?”

“You’re not gonna’ kiss me?” Something breathy resembling a chuckle left him, and the hand from your waist ran up along your body, evading goosebumps in his wake until he was cupping your cheeks. When your eyes opened, it was to find he had already taken that step, watching you fondly, pulling away enough to rest on his pillow once again.

“No.” He eventually gave in, seeming to be lost in thoughts, and you felt your features rumple with confusion and disappointment. “Oh, sweetheart, I want to. I really, really want to. Have for a while, actually, but not now and not like this. You’re sad and I’m sad. Every moment we’ve had so far that brought up the chance to kiss you has been stressed, depressed and near-death.”

“But you are going to kiss me, at some point?”

A sleepy smirk, that had way more of an effect on you than it should be allowed to have, and he seemed to know it too, because it only got wider. “Oh, definitely. But when I kiss you, it’ll be amazing, and breathtaking. When I kiss you, you’re going to feel it. It’ll make you a little weak in the knees, but that’s okay, because I’ll hold you up. It’s going to be perfect, it’ll be a kiss you’re never gonna’ forget, so I don’t want our first kiss to be when we’re sad.”

You didn’t know what to say, a long beat passing, before your lips were pressing together, and you were unable to contain your grin. “Well, okay, then.”

You moved forwards, his laughter only increasing as your face pressed into his neck, rolling him onto his back as you let your full body weight fall against him, his arms wrapping tightly around your back. You pressed a kiss to his neck, any spot you could reach, and the deep and rumbling laughter he let out was replaced with something softer and cracking, lighter pitch as he bordered on giggling, squirming a little as you kissed just above the patch, sensing a weakness in him.

You moved up, before eventually, he was giggling without restraint, squirming at the tickling feeling over the featherlight kisses you pressed to his jaw.

“Alright, alright, cut it out, before I lose all of my masculinity.” He was pink along his cheeks when you propped yourself up over him to get a better look at his flushed face, sparkling eyes peering up at you with messy hair and a dopey smile to match, and that sight was definitely something you could get used to seeing.

This was all new to you, it was ever-changing and constantly evolving, it was unsteady and unsure and it made you feel nauseously anxious and yet ecstatically excited all in one, and you leaned down, the promises he’d made were you giving you the confidence to so so as your forehead pressed to his. “Nap?”

“Cuddle?”

“Yes.” He beamed, twisting his body like you weighed nothing until you were on your side against the mattress again. He pulled you over, adjusting you on your side to face away from him, before pulling you back into his body.

His arm wrapped around you, one spread out under the pillow to support your head, and you weaved your fingers with the other, bringing it up to your mouth to kiss the back of his hand like he’d done for you. He was resting behind you, legs tangled together as your bodies sat snugly to one another and he held you tight in a gripping hug, and you were able to drift off to the steady beat of his heart against your back and the feel of his body surrounding you.

“You know, it’s rude to text when you’re having dinner with someone.” you jibed, his gaze flicking up from his phone as his elbows rested over the empty plate on the counter, lamps making his skin look more golden and highlights in his hair seeming to stand out as the light outside had faded, the evening meal being the next thing the two of you shared; chicken nuggets from the bottom freezer drawer and homemade wedges as he refused to eat curly fries.

“It’s not my fault you’re taking ages to eat.” You scoffed, swiping another nugget through some of your tomato ketchup, and lifting it on your fork to take a bite. He picked up his discarded fork, stabbing it into one of your nuggets, stealing a smear of ketchup that left a mess on the plate, and putting the whole thing into his mouth at once, winking as you protested weakly. “Besides, I’m talking to the group.”

“How are they all doing?”

“They’re good. As good as they can be. They want to meet up for drinks in a little bit, they’re headed down to the bar we like.” You finished your food, placing your knife and fork down to match his, and chewing the rest of your mouthful, considering it all, and his attention was back on his screen as he typed away.

“Can I come?”

He paused, looking at you over the device, before turning it off and putting it down on the counter, the buzzing and lighting up going ignored as he stared for a second. “Seriously? I just, I mean, you’re up for it?”

He stumbled over his words a little, he didn’t mean to come off as rude and you knew it, and so you let it slide, shrugging and smiling a little as you hopped down from your seat to put the plates in the sink to be washed later. “You said that everyone else got past their sadness by being together. I’ve never had anyone before, but I would like to be with you all now.” His seat scraped along the floor, and a second later, arms were wrapping around your waist from behind in a tight squeeze, shocking you a little as he did, and you straightened up, twisting in his hold to face him. “Is that really so shocking?”

“A little bit. We’re kinda’ used to being shut out. They’re all going to be surprised.” He tapped the end of your nose. “A good surprise, though.”

“Well, I can go change into something that isn’t sweatpants, and we can go.”

His eyes dropped down, taking in your outfit as he let you go, seeming like he’d only just noticed your attire, and you wandered away, leaving him to whatever he was going to do, confirming his arrival to the rest and getting his shoes on, while you tried to find some suitable clothes.

Once you had pulled on a pair of jeans and a more comfortable and bar appropriate top to replace your pyjamas, you folded them, resting them on pillows that had only just gone cold, before straightening the sheets out, erasing all evidence of the nap you’d taken as your bed was reset. A pair of shoes came next, hopping about a little bit to get them on, before running a brush through your hair and checking you looked presentable enough to go out. There was no doubt that Brenda would look like a supermodel, she always did, grieving a friend or attending movie night, she could put everyone else to shame, but it was just another thing you loved about her.

As soon as you stepped out of the room, there was a whistle meeting your ears. Thomas had found his jumper again and pulled it back on, his shoes too, phone tucked into his pocket as he beamed at you, and you rolled your eyes, walking straight past him to the coat rack to find your belongings as you got ready to go.

“Oh, shut it.”

“Why? You gonna’ get all cute and flustered, blush for me a little bit? Sweet and shy?” He was teasing now, and you scowled, pulling on your coat and hiding your face from him as you grabbed your keys, batting yourself down for everything you’d need and finding it already in your pockets.

“I’m kicking you out.”

He laughed, wandering past you and into the halls of the building, letting you flick the lights off before locking up, and he offered his arm to you for you to link your own through, before guiding you down the corridors to the elevator.

A short car ride, Thomas holding the door of his car for you to let you in before opening it for you again when you arrived, commenting both times about something gentlemanly, before his hand was finding yours as the car lights flashed to signal it’s locking, and a fresh wave of anxiety was washing over you.

You wanted to see your friends and be with them, you truly did, but that didn’t make it any easier to take yourself into a crowded place when you were in such a vulnerable place. The opening of the door made muffled snap into sharp surroundings, the bar filled with people, crowds weaving among one another, and Thomas took the lead, shouldering through the people milling around the entrance politely. The cold air of the outside was overwhelmingly different from the stuffy inside, the smell of liquor and sweat overwhelming your senses, but it wasn’t a smell you were unfamiliar with. The music pumping through the floor was vibrating right up along your bones, pooling in your gut, and you squeezed Thomas’ hand a little tighter as the crowds cleared once you passed the high tables and the dance floor.

You could just about see your friends, gathered around the largest booth with extra chairs pulled up, bodies constantly weaving in and out of your sights, blocking them from your view. Lips brushed your ear, a jolt of electricity making you jump, before you turned to find Thomas, his head ducked to speak to you but eyes flittering over the scene.

“I’m going to go buy everyone another round. What d’you want to drink?”

“Uh..” Your words died out, a little overwhelmed at the sight before you, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Just something cold and refreshing, maybe fruity. I don’t know.”

“I got you, don’t worry. Why don’t you head over to the table?” He gave you a final lingering stare as you nodded, before the two of you were parting, and you were left to try and make your way toward the table. Luckily for you, it was only a few metres upon leaving Thomas’ side that Brenda spotted you, her entire face lighting up and glass slamming down onto the table, before she was practically climbing over the men to get out of the booth, and all but pushing people out of the way to get to you.

A tight hug as she rocked you from side to side, clearly tipsy as she spoke faster than she normally would while mumbling into your ear about how happy she was to see you. The story Thomas had told you came back to mind, and you didn’t mention it, but you wrapped your arms around her just as tight and held her to you, a show of your love for her, belated sympathy for the tragedy, and comforting her as she needed it, weak inside even if she didn’t show it right now.

Newt followed, cheering a little, hair messy and cheeks flushed with warmth from the drinks he’d had and the temperature in the bar, and you were already beginning to grow overheated. He hugged you next, walking you backwards to the table as you giggled, and settling back into his seat as several other welcomes and greetings echoed in their place. You couldn't help it, the smile that broke free, the way you fitted in so perfectly, your anxiety melting away just from being with them.

“You’re here!”

“Is that okay?” You teased, Brenda shuffling back into her seat at the back of the booth, nodding avidly as she sipped at a glass of gin through a thin straw.

“Of course! We just didn’t expect you, you haven’t been answering your phone all day.” Your brows furrowed, hands digging into your pockets to find it. “I was worried about you.”

You located it, metal cold to the touch from where it had been abandoned for so long, and you realised that the last time you’d checked it had been before turning it off as you entered Chuck’s service, not having a chance to turn it back on before Thomas had arrived, and stole all of your attention solely and unwilling to share.

Turning it on at the side, the device flashed back to life, and you waited a few moments, before it reset itself, and all the notification you had missed began to flash through one by one. Multiple missed calls from various members of the team, the oldest of which begging Thomas, probably calling to let you know he was coming over, before alerts from only a  few minutes ago, the groupchat you all had with recent notifications, and you chuckled at the volume of them all.

“Sorry, my phone had been turned off all day. I wasn’t ignoring you, I swear.”

She shrugged it off, and you placed your phone down to be able to shuck yourself of your coat, the heat growing stifling with the extra layer on.

“How’d you know where to find us? How’d you know we were here?” Newt piped up, and you let your cat hang over your arms, turning to face him.

“I, um, Thomas. He told me you’d all be here.”

“But I thought your phone was turned off, so-” He cut himself off, brain seeming to catch up in his slightly inebriated state, and you were grateful that the heat in the room would hide your blush as your skin was already flushed. “Were you with Tommy today? All day?”

An undeniably cocky grin split his face open, matching expressions following gasps that echoed around the table, and you scoffed, placing your coat down on the heap that had been built. “Maybe. It’s not a big deal.”

“He told me he was going to check up on you. I figured he meant, like, call you or something. He came to see you?”

You shrugged, the questions suddenly being shot at you, among teases and winks that made you stare at the floor, bombarded with gentle humour from your team. Newt was through the roof, Brenda was yelling louder than all of them about her ‘ship’, some gazes being given over to her from strangers, and Minho was trying to shush her while laughing. Gally was simply grinning like the Cheshire Cat into his beer, and your head was spinning too much to even process anybody else’s questions or remarks.

“Alright, well, I’m not drunk enough to start this conversation with you all.”

“Well, where is lover boy, anyway?” You rolled your eyes at Newt, before tipping your head back towards the bar.

“He’s getting you all a fresh round of drinks.” Your retort resulted in a cheer from them all, hands banging on the table in excitement; empty bottles, glasses, and cans rattling as the surface shook. “I’m going to go and see if he needs any help.”

“You spent the whole day with him, can’t we keep you for a little while?” Newt pouted, and you stepped away, sticking your lower lip out to mock him a little, before flipping him off, and making sure to wave the gesture at the rest of them for good measure, chuckles taking up all around.

“No, because you’re teasing me, and I need at least two shots to handle that.” He raised a brow, a mumble of ‘touché’ spoken into his beer and he smirked, before you were turning and weaving to the bar.

He wasn’t hard to find, tall and messy hair unmissable once you were set on him, and as you got closer, you realised it wasn’t the bartender he was talking to. A woman, not too far from your own height, dark curly hair and tight jeans, a blue eyes that were piercing as she spoke to him, and it seemed to be a hushed conversation as she leaned on the bar against him, two trays of drinks stacking up beside Thomas, his wallet sitting out on the bar.

You considered turning back, letting him have his privacy with whoever he was speaking to, and you paused in your path, ready to turn before his eyes were moving from her face to you, lighting up a little as he smiled, and there was no way you could backtrack now. He’d seen you, you had to at least go over and explain yourself, his attention moving back to the woman.

Her words went silent as you approached, and you smiled politely, her gaze dragging over you, before she was offering a polite smile herself upon realising you were stopping by their sides, and not just passing by.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just realised you might need a hand with the drinks.” You pointed to the two trays building, an empty laugh leaving you all, but the atmosphere was still tense. “You want me to come back in a few minutes, instead?”

“Yeah-”

“No, now’s fine, we’re pretty much ready,” Thomas promised, the woman by his side frowning, and you grimaced at the tension continuing to rise, gaze moving between them for a second. Thomas turned, paying for the drinks with a swipe of his card, and nudging a try toward you, while picking up the other himself. “I appreciate the help.” He mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple as you tried to balance the drinks, and you smiled softly, eyes catching his, hoping the affection was returned without you having to lean up and actually return it, risking toppling all the drinks you were holding. “I gotta’ go. I’m sure we’ll catch up or something another time.”

You stepped away from the pair, at least trying to give them a second's privacy without lingering, slow steps away from them and back to the table. “My number is the same, still. Call me, alright?”

He didn't reply, not verbally at least, Thomas falling into step with you a second later, and you couldn't bite back the curiosity on the tip of your tongue as no introductions had been made. You didn't know many other people in town, and if you were going to stay, it was probably wide that you got to know your neighbourhood; “She seemed polite. Who was she?”

He glanced at you, a complicated look on his face, and you realised it must be deeper than you thought, a list of names and suspicions moving through your mind, before he sighed away his worries and shook his head lightly. “Nobody important.”

You placed the drinks down on the table, accepting his answer, and the group shuffled up to make room for you all, greeting their lieutenant and thanking him for the refills as they grabbed their drinks. A bottle of something fruity and fizzy was placed in front of you, and it seemed satisfying enough, you weren’t overly picky about it, and it tasted fine as you took a sip. Perching on the leather booth, an arm you had grown familiar with throughout the day returned to sitting over your shoulders, and you settled into him without hesitation.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling at home as you sought comfort with your friends, moving on together, and letting your burdens be carried by friends and not just yourself for the first time in a long, long time.

[togetherwearerapture]

Boundary (Ethan x MC x Tobias?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine) x (hints of) Tobias Carrick

Description: Tobias and Elle get to know each other while working on a case. Tobias pushes some boundaries.

Warnings: A few curse words, underlying health problems. Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: Something a bit different, but I very much enjoyed writing this. There’s no overt Tobias x MC, so this is hopefully something Ethan stans can enjoy reading too. If PB won’t give me what I want, I guess write it myself lol 

*********

It’s early Fall, yet despite this fact and the hospital’s ‘Bloom-and-improved’ ventilation systems, the diagnostics office feels uncomfortably hot. Elle feels a prickling heat across her back, one that she has become accustomed to of late. The façade she’s wearing is beginning to feel like an actual mask, all clinical-scented and restrictive and artificial.

And yet, this is not a mask she’s wearing on a crowded, sweltering T carriage. Her discomfort is unwarranted; there are, after all, only three of them in the room.

Oblivious, Ethan and Harper continue their conversation. She’s tuned out long ago, but she catches the premise- something that Dr Yannick once said at a conference in New York several years ago.

If she really tried, Elle knows she could search for a moment to join in the discussion. But if she’s being honest with herself, she’s tired of searching for sidegates to enter their house of conversation, instead of ever being invited through the front door.

She tries her hardest to appear relaxed, unbothered, indifferent. But her uneasiness spills into her mannerisms, like water through a cracked pot. Manicured nails drum erratically on the top of her thigh. Her top teeth tug, over and over again, at her lips. The apex of her stiletto heel taps the diagnostic office floor like a furious knife.

She likes and respects Harper very much, and her feelings for Ethan, both as a diagnostician and as her romantic partner are unfathomable. But as juvenile as it sounds, she’s so tired of being shut out.

A whooshing of the sliding doors breaks her out of her reverie, and she and the two other occupants of the room look up. Tobias Carrick strides in, all beams and bravado.

Her own notion takes her by surprise, but somehow, she thinks, his arrival is the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs.

“Goooood morning team!” he chimes brightly. Once again, his arms are laden with a trayful of drinks.

“Morning,” Elle offers him a warm smile, Harper echoing her words.

Ethan nods towards the drinks.

“Another round on you?”

“Sure is, but this isn’t just any old round, Ethan,” Tobias replies. “Now I’ve spent a week on the team, I take great pride in this being the first drinks order that’s just right, for all of you.”

Ethan quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Tobias grins, and plucks the first drink off the tray.

“Harper,” he presents her with an extravagant looking drink. “Chocolate frappucino. Double the sugar, double the caffeine. The Friday OR schedule is always jam packed, so I reckon you’ll need it.”

“You got that right, I’ve got two laminectomies today,” she sighs, although the passion for her job shines through her eyes. She takes a sip from her drink. “No complaints from me!”

“Excellent,” Tobias grins. “Ethan- a Vienna for you. Classic, refined, and,” he winks, “only a little pretentious.”

Ethan accepts the drink with a roll of his eyes, as Tobias moves around the desk to Elle.

“And now, for you Elle,” he hands her the third cup. “I must admit, for you I went out on a whim. I just hope my guess is a lucky one.”

Curiosity piqued, Elle presses the rim to her lips. She is aware of the eyes of both Tobias and Ethan following her action with interest. Mild, pleasant citrus swims onto her palate.

“Lemon balm?” she asks Tobias. He nods. “You going to elaborate?”

He shrugs.

“Well, I’ve noticed that I’ve never seen you with a coffee before 4pm, so I figured you like to limit caffeine earlier in the day. And I’ve seen you make up a couple of herbal teas before. I took a gamble and figured you’d like this one.”

“Impressive guess, Carrick,” Elle nods, amused. She takes a sip. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Those are some very…astute observations” says Ethan stiffly, as Tobias takes a seat beside Elle. “Maybe you can put your perceptiveness to better use for our next case.”

He slides three manila envelopes across the table, and the team begin to peruse.

“Jake Adams. 17-year-old male admitted last night, with multiple cardiac arrests,” Ethan begins. “He collapsed at school, was unresponsive, no signs of life, but luckily a fellow student was able to perform high-quality CPR until the paramedics arrived. Heart rhythm on their defibrillator was ventricular fibrillation, he was shocked, back to normal sinus rhythm. Between the scene, being loaded onto the stretcher, in the ambulance and arriving here, he arrested and was shocked again 5 more times.”

“Jesus, poor boy,” murmurs Elle, a crease forming between her brows.

“Cardiology have asked us if we can determine the cause of the arrest, which will of course determine the treatment,” Ethan explains.

“This case only came in last night and since he’s now on life support, we’re able to bypass Bloom’s absurd judicial performance and get straight into it,” Harper adds. “Actually, Ethan and I discussed it at length before you both arrived, and we have some solid ideas.”

Elle looks up from the file, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“So I’m thinking Long QT syndrome, or maybe Brugada,” says Harper.

“They would definitely explain the spontaneous cardiac arrest,” Ethan adds, “Harper and I have ordered genetic testing for both on immediate family members already.”

“Any family history of sudden cardiac death?” Tobias asks.

“Not that we know of,” says Ethan. “But that wouldn’t rule it out.”

Elle frowns slightly as she browses the file. The tests ordered so far are scant, and in her mind, there are several pieces of the diagnostic puzzle missing. But this didn’t seem to stop Harper and Ethan steamrollering ahead, and seemingly settling on a diagnosis before the case had even been presented.

“Does Jake have a-”

“Do you remember that patient with Brugada syndrome who came in for a study a few years ago, Ethan?” Harper turns to Ethan suddenly.

“Ah yes, Paul?” Ethan chuckles, “he was quite a character.”

As Harper and Ethan drift off once again, Elle glances up to see Tobias looking at her quizzically. She lets out a heavy sigh.

Tobias clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt your…uh…stroll down memory lane,” he begins. “But Elle was about to ask a question about the case, and you both spoke over her.”

The three other diagnosticians turn to Tobias, and a tense silence hangs in the air. After a beat, Harper speaks up.

“I’m sorry Elle,” she says, sincerely. “That was out of line, please continue.”

Tobias turns to Ethan expectantly, who meets Elle’s eye.

Something flickers across his face for a moment, a mixture of shame, guilt, embarrassment, perhaps? It’s a look that Elle can’t quite place. Then, his eyes skim to Tobias and he coughs awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you Tobias. We did speak over you, Elle, I apologise. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if he had a 15-Lead ECG.”

“Not yet,” Harper replies.

“Then until he has one, I don’t think you can consider Brugada syndrome,” says Elle. “We’d need to do an ajmaline challenge too. I can see from the echocardiogram reports in here that he has a structurally normal heart, so we can definitely exclude congenital heart disease as the cause. But for me personally,” she gestures to the file, “there’s a lot missing in here. About what actually happened.”

“How do you mean?” Ethan asks.

“About the context of the cardiac arrest. All we know is that he was at school, but what was he doing? Was he doing anything strenuous, did it happen at rest? There’s a lot more I’d like to know.”

The rest of the team nod thoughtfully.

“I agree…if it happened during exertion, there’s a few other things we could rule out,” says Tobias.

“Exactly,” says Elle. “I think we should consider catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia.”

“You’re thinking CPVT?” asks Ethan, interested. “It’s a possibility.”

“Yes, and it’s one I’d like to investigate more by visiting the school, and finding out more about what happened” says Elle.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Harper responds, twirling her fountain pen between her fingers. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you on your expedition. Like Tobias said, I’ve got a full day in the OR.”

The rest of the team turn to Ethan, who hesitates.

“I…have a meeting with Naveen and the board until lunch,” he says. “Which-”

“-means it’s just you and me, Valentine!” exclaims Tobias, clapping his hands together. “Oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to my first house call with the diagnostics team. We’re going to be on some scooby doo shit, Elle!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ethan, scowling. Elle can’t help but burst out laughing.

“That settles it then, me and Elle will go to the school,” says Tobias, standing up from his chair. At the same time, Harper gets a page that her surgery is starting and bids them a hurried farewell.

“I was going to say, which means the three of us can go this afternoon once I’m finished,” Ethan says stiffly, as Harper heads out. Tobias shoots him a bemused look.

“I’d rather not wait,” says Elle flatly.

Ethan has wasted enough time in their meetings by bringing up pointless anecdotes with Harper, and she’s very keen to revert her focus to the patients, to diagnostics- the things she loves.

“Me and Valentine will be just fine, E. After all, I’m sure what happened with Jake is still pretty raw to the kids and staff, we’ll need to handle it delicately. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, right?” Tobias flashes Elle a smile.

The same look as before flashes across Ethan’s face, although this time, Elle thinks, it has less of the awkwardness and embarrassment and more of the…something else. His bright blue eyes seem to narrow a fraction, as he looks between Tobias and the woman of his affections.

“Alright,” he sighs finally. “We’ll reconvene when you’re back.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” says Tobias happily. “To the mystery machine!”

He crosses the room to retrieve his car keys from his bag, while Ethan turns to Elle, and this time, the look of concern is undeniable.

“If you need anything,” he closes some of the distance between them and lowers his voice just a little, “just call me.”

“I think we can handle it,” says Elle, not unkindly. “Enjoy your meeting. And tell Naveen I said hello.”

And with that, she and Tobias leave the office.

********

A short while later, Elle and Tobias are riding in his blue Mercedes S-Class on the way to Jake’s school, a short drive away in South Quincy.

“Not exactly the mystery machine, huh?” says Elle, glancing around at the plush interior.

Tobias shrugs.

“The same colour, at least.”

Boston blurs by as Tobias pulls into a main road, and Elle turns to look at him. His side profile is unmistakably handsome. He drives one handed, the other resting on his thigh.

“So, how’s June?”

He gives a wry half smile, and glances at her.

“Is that your way of asking if we’re still sleeping together?”

“No!” says Elle, honestly. “I’m just wondering how she’s fitting in at Mass Ken. I mean, she left Edenbrook when she thought the ship was going to sink. I got the impression she was pretty keen to be working on your team, now I can’t help but think now you’ve come here, Aurora too…don’t you think she’s been left kinda high and dry?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t seen her for a while, and don’t expect to again anytime soon,” Tobias admits. “But trust me, Hirata will be just fine. She’s head of the team there now.”

Elle raises her eyebrows, impressed.

“I’d say she moves fast, but actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“She was pissed as hell when I said I was leaving, don’t get me wrong,” says Tobias. “But she’s the strongest diagnostician on that team, and the strongest player too.”

“Player?”

“She knows how to play the game. She’ll have no trouble asserting herself as the new leader, running the show the way she wants to.”

Elle thinks back to her time working with June. The way she changed her personality to gain patients’ trust…and Elle’s. Distant anger simmers at the back of her mind, as she remembers how June stole her employee file.

“I agree…office politics was always child’s play for June.”

“Speaking of,” says Tobias as they stop at a red light. He turns to look at her. “The meeting this morning seemed very…uh…political.”

Elle pauses as feels the uncomfortable tingling rise in her chest. She could ask “what are you talking about?”, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And there’s something about Carrick that makes her want to cut the crap, to be upfront. So she is.

“You mean Harper and Ethan…”

“Yeah, that. Whatever the hell that was.”

Elle is silent.

“Does that…happen a lot?”

“More often than I’d like.”

“Well, good job I’m here then,” he grins.

Elle’s head whips around.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the out.”

She rounds on him.

“Ok, let’s make one thing clear, I don’t need you to fight my battles” says Elle angrily. “Since Harper joined, every time the two of them have gone off track, I’ve steered them back on. I’m here for the patient, to solve the case, and nothing is going to detract my focus from that. That’s the way it’s going to stay, with or without your “outs”, Tobias.”

Tobias chuckles.

“You’re feisty Elle, I like it.” His eyes sweep over her from head to toe, which makes Elle feel more angry, but also, inexplicably, makes her stomach flutter a little.

“What I mean is,” Tobias speaks more seriously; sensing her anger, but mercifully oblivious to the other sensation, “I hope you know you’ve got someone else in your corner Elle. I know how much you care about your patients, and I know Bloom’s going to make life for the team difficult, and try and undermine our every move. That’s not helped when it feels like you’re not listened to by the actual people in it. You’re an excellent doctor Elle, and I value your input. The others should too.”

Elle is dumbstruck. She still doesn’t know what to make of Tobias Carrick; she had picked up pieces and hints from the scattered stories she’d heard from Ethan, most recently in their walk through the rose garden. But while considering the perspective and feelings of the man she so deeply cares for, she acknowledges it is biased. Elle knows that she has good reason to be wary of Tobias; it was not just Ethan he had toyed with, after all- Aurora had been burned by him too.

But, Tobias had helped to save her life. And the genuine smile that he gave her through the contamination screens of that cursed room, on the worst day of her life, had always stayed with her.

So, with a pinch of salt ready between her fingers, Elle decided from the moment he joined the team, that she would form her own opinion of him.

It occurs to her then, just how much Ethan sees the world in black and white. But Tobias Carrick is very much a shade of grey.

Before she can respond to him, the GPS on Tobias’ dash declares that they are arriving at their destination, and sure enough, Elle sees the school up ahead on the right.

“Here we are,” murmurs Tobias as he pulls in through the school gates. “Looks like we’re expected.”

They park up and head over to the school steps, surrounded by blossom trees, where a middle aged woman offers them a watery smile and extends a hand.

“Ah, hello…the doctors from Edenbrook, I presume?” she asks. “I’m Helena Brady, the principal of Greenview High.”

“Yes, we spoke earlier on the phone,” says Elle. “I’m Dr Eleanor Valentine, and this is Dr Tobias Carrick. We’re here to speak to the people that were with Jake when he collapsed?”

“I’m afraid it’s just the one person,” says Helena gravely, leading them through the school. “His friend Charlie was the only one who saw it, and then ran for help. How is Jake doing?”

“He’s still in a coma, but stable,” says Tobias. “The most important thing for us to help him, is find out from Charlie some more about the collapse, and go from there.”

Helena nods, as they come to a stop outside a small office.

“We’ve all been praying for him, it’s so tragically sad…nothing like this has ever happened to a student before,” she sniffs stoically. “Thank you for your work doctors, but please, be gentle with the boy. He’s still very shaken.”

Elle smiles at her reassuringly.

“We will be, don’t worry.”

As Tobias and Elle knock and enter the room, the boy springs to his feet, eyes wild.

“You’re the doctors…how’s Jake, is he-oh god is he-is he dead?” he cries.

“No, Jake is ok. He’s been through a lot, but he’s recovering,” says Elle gently. Charlie sinks back into his chair, though his knees are still quaking.

“It’s Charlie right?” Tobias asks, pulling up a chair. “I’m Tobias and this is Elle. We’re Jake’s doctors. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Y-yes, that’s me,” Charlie sniffs. “Principal Brady said you were here to talk to me about Jake…I was so scared, I thought, I thought that meant he had died.”

Elle kneels in front of him, laying a gentle hand on his knee.

“I’m really sorry that us coming made you think that, Charlie,” she says. “It must have been really tough watching Jake collapse like that, I’m not surprised you’re thinking the worst. But we think we can help Jake get better, we just need your help.”

Some of the tension seems to leave Charlie’s body upon hearing this; his shudders subside. He pulls anxiously at the strings of his hoodie, unruly teenage bangs falling over his forehead.

“So, Charlie,” Tobias asks as Elle pulls up a chair beside him, “do you think you could tell us a bit more about what Jake was doing when you saw him collapse? Had he been running, exercising, working out?”

“No,” Charlie says quietly. “He wasn’t doing anything like that.”

“That’s really helpful Charlie, thank you,” says Elle. “Can you tell us if he standing up or sitting down? Did he lose his balance or seem dizzy? Did he complain of feeling ill, or funny in any sort of way before it happened?”

Charlie stiffens.

“No. He was-we were-we were arguing.”

Tobias and Elle exchange a quick look.

“Is Jake your friend, Charlie?” Tobias asks.

“No! No he’s not, and I’m so sick of pretending he is!” Charlie shouts. “Jake’s my boyfriend!” Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” says Elle. “You said you were pretending…does anyone else know that?”

Charlie shakes his head.

“No. That’s what we were arguing about,” he accepts a tissue that Elle offers, blowing his nose.

“Take your time, Charlie,” says Tobias, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It’s ok.”

After a few deep breaths, Charlie steels himself.

“We’ve been dating for three years, kind of in secret, kind of not,” he explains. “My parents know I’m gay, and they’re fine with it. They’ve met Jake before and they love him, they know we’re together. But he’s not even out to his parents, they just think we’re friends.”

He sniffs.

“Now we’re in senior year, we’re both looking at colleges, and we want to go to different ones. We’d be living five hours apart. I don’t know if we can make the long-distance work, especially if his parents don’t know about us. In the times we’d both be back home, they wouldn’t understand why he’d want to spend a lot of that time with me. But the one thing I just really, really wanted, was for us to go to senior prom together. As a couple, you know? To just dress up together, get photos together, dance together, one last time before we leave.”

“And Jake…wasn’t on board with that?” asks Elle.

“He was,” says Charlie. “He said he really wanted to. He just…wasn’t on board with the part of that which meant he’d have to come out to his parents.”

“I see,” says Tobias.

Charlie’s eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“I was saying, before he collapsed, that he didn’t love me,” he cries. “That he must not love me if he’s not prepared to come out. He was getting so upset, begging me, telling me of course he loved me, he was just scared, and then-” he sobs. “Then he was on the floor.”

Elle kneels beside him again, taking both his hands in her own.

“I’ve been googling stuff that could have caused it,” Charlie sniffles. “I saw there’s this condition, some long one beginning with, a C, I think, that means people’s hearts can give out when they’re stressed.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow, somewhat impressed at the boy’s diagnostic skills.

“What if-what if I could’ve killed him, because of the argument? And I told him he must not love me, I didn’t even mean it, I know how hard it is to come out, I didn’t mean to-” he buries his head in his hands.

“Charlie- Charlie listen to me,” says Elle. “It’s true, that we think Jake might have a condition called CPVT. It means that certain situations, like exercise, or stress, can cause the heart to go into an abnormal rhythm. But that does not mean, whatsoever, that any of this is your fault. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, when we’re angry. If Jake does have this condition, and we’ll have to run a couple more tests to know that for sure, then it means that we can treat it, and stop it from happening again. It could have happened to him at anytime, anywhere, but he was lucky enough to be with you. You’ve helped him have a lucky escape.”

“R-really?” asks Charlie.

“Really,” says Tobias, who is on his feet. He lays a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.  “Your principal was telling us earlier that you did CPR on Jake while you got others to run for help?”

“Yes,” Charlie mutters, looking up at Tobias.

“Well Charlie, I think you saved his life.”

Charlie’s eyes gleam with hope.

“What are you applying for at college?” Tobias asks.

“Um..cardiac nursing,” he says.

“Very fitting. You’ll always be welcome at Edenbrook for some work experience.” Tobias smiles, genuinely. It’s the same smile Elle remembers from after the attack.

“Do you think, then, that he’ll be ok?” Charlie asks tentatively.

“Yes, I do,” smiles Elle. “And I think that you and Jake will be ok too.”

****************

Some time later, Elle steps out of the school. After speaking at length with the school counsellor, she had made sure that Charlie had some extensive therapy sessions in place. Tobias is waiting for her at the foot of the steps, beneath the blossom trees, and she is surprised to see he has a cigarette in hand.

“You smoke?” she raises an eyebrow at him as she approaches. “I thought you’d know better, Tobias.”

He takes a drag.

“Vices, Valentine,” he quips. “We all have them.”

Elle vaguely remembers Ethan had once said the same thing about butter.

“Carcinogens, though. Really?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I’m dirty, what can I say?”

He dutifully puts out the cigarette, as Elle gives him a reproachful look, and turns to her.

“You were good in there, with him,” says Tobias.

“Thanks…so were you.”

“We make a good team,” he smiles, and his expression softens a little. “That was kinda heavy though. You bearing up ok?” he asks.

Elle nods.

“I’m fine. I just hope Charlie will be ok, I really want to make sure he starts therapy as soon as possible.  I know how much of a difference it made for me, after the attack.”

She trails off, and Tobias seems to sense the darkness clouding over her eyes. The mild September breeze sifts through the blossom trees above them with a gentle sigh.

“I don’t think I ever actually said this to you,” says Elle quietly, “but thank you. For helping to save me and Raf, that day.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds. “I wanted to do everything I could to help.”

He pauses only briefly before continuing.

“You know, out of everything that happened that day, all the work we did in the lab trying to find an antidote…the one thing I remember most is how Ethan was in that room. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that before. About anyone, or anything.”

A sudden chill trickles down her neck, goosebumps erupt on her forearms; a million tiny foothills.

Since their conversation in the car after Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Ethan had never really spoken in depth about his own feelings during the attack. Sometimes, in early hours when they laid in bed together, with the rain hammering against his window, she would mention it.

And every time, she would see his eyes darken with so many unsaid words. He would fix his gaze desperately on her like she was evaporating steam, set to vanish from existence in a matter of moments. His hold on her waist would tighten, fingertips tracing her soft skin as if to remind himself she wasn’t a ghost.

There had been whispers in his bed in the stillness of the night, when they were both half asleep. He had uttered sleepy confessions and declarations to her; some so heartfelt and moving, she still questioned whether they were real or if she had dreamt them.

More often straight after the attack, but still now sometimes, she would wake in his arms to find him already looking at her, his eyes filled with wonder, pain, and something else that she was starting to place.

‘Why are you awake?’ she would gently murmur.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I-had a nightmare.’

She would press herself closer to his chest, feel his strong arms encircling her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I’m here, Ethan.’

‘I know. I’m…so glad you are.’

She is jolted to the present with Tobias’ voice.

“Even if he didn’t show it this morning…Ethan’s got it bad for you, you know.”

Elle cranes her neck to look up at him- at the man who shares so much history with Ethan. He’s almost as tall as her lover, but slightly less built, shoulders not quite as broad. Alike in many ways, but different in so many others.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” she asks, without breaking eye contact. “You had it all at Mass Kenmore. You’re an excellent diagnostician, you could have gone anywhere. Why, of all people, would you want to come and work for Ethan, someone you have such a complicated past with?”

Tobias’ hazel eyes, a contrast to Ethan’s azure blue’s, look into hers deeply. She knows that there’s something hiding beneath their golden depths; either earnestness, an ulterior motive, or perhaps something more complicated- a mixture of both.

He takes a step towards her, raising his hand towards her face. Her breath hitches, then climaxes in a soft exhale, when he simply removes a lone blossom petal that has settled on the lapel of her white coat. She wonders what exactly she had been expecting him to do.

Tobias twists his tongue between his teeth, a half-smile playing on his lips. Once again, his eyes roam over her from head to toe. This close, Elle can smell his cologne. It’s good; notes of leather and pine and exotism drift to her olfactory nerve. It’s a contrast to her favourite aftershave of Ethan’s, which smelled like bergamot, cedar, and home.

Tobias drops the petal to the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here Elle,” he murmurs, “because I want to push boundaries.”

********************

Ethan leans against his desk, fingertips drumming impatiently. His meeting had been finished for a while now, but he was still waiting for Elle and Tobias to return.

His old rival’s keenness to go on an outreach call with Elle had stirred something within him. Something in his head had switched on. A distant alarm bell that had been silent for some time, had started to ring.

Lost in thought, he mulls over the events of the morning.

He’d done it again.

He, and Harper, had spoken over Elle when she was trying to talk about the patient. Not only that, he recognises now, but before Tobias had entered the room, the two of them had been reminiscing about something that didn’t involve Elle in the slightest.

He doesn’t know why he keeps slipping up. He harbours no romantic feelings for Harper whatsoever, but he’s been enjoying the chance to work more closely with her, the friendly conversations, to share stories and experiences.

But they haven’t just been work related, he thinks. Did I really need to bring up the flamenco lessons? Or Gaston’s? He recalls the look on her face when he’d told Elle he planned to take her there because of its intimacy, immediately after discussing it with Harper. Before Elle’s forced smile and her gracious reply of “I’d like that,” he’d always thought he had caught a flicker of dismay, of hurt, on her features.

Now he’s certain it was more than a flicker.

I don’t deserve her, he thought.

With a swoosh, the doors of the diagnostics office open. He sees the familiar head of immaculately coiffed blonde locks, and as his eyes travel down to Elle’s beautiful face, his heart soars, and he can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Elle!” he says happily, pushing himself up of the desk.

I missed you, he foolishly finds himself wanting to say, despite the fact that like most days at work, it’s only been a few hours since he’s seen her. But as his eyes travel to Tobias following her in, he keeps the admission to himself.

“We have an answer,” says Elle triumphantly. “We’ve listed Jake for an ICD insertion tomorrow morning.”

“It was CPVT?” Ethan asks.

“Yep,” says Tobias. “Elle’s hunch was right. Turns out it was an argument with his boyfriend that brought on the cardiac arrest. We ran a test for CPVT as soon as we got back, while you were still in the meeting, and it’s positive.”

Elle smiles brightly.

“Jake’s going to be okay.”

Ethan beams. He’s exceptionally proud of her.

“Excellent work Elle,” he leans forward to squeeze her arm, as bold a gesture as he dares while they have company. “And thanks Tobias, for helping out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Tobias. He looks pointedly at Elle, then adds, “believe me.”

An unpleasant sensation coils in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. He tries to push it down.

As Tobias crosses the room to take a phone call, he steps closer to Elle, lowering his voice.

“Listen Elle, about earlier. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, tentatively taking her hand in his own. He caresses her tiny fingers with his thumb. “It’s unacceptable for me to talk over you in meetings, and I…know that this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and that there are, uh, other things. I’m sorry if my actions have ever made you feel excluded.”

Elle’s bright green eyes look into his thoughtfully, though she says nothing; silently willing him to continue.

“I’d like to make it up to you. I think a date night between us is long overdue. Can I take you for dinner tonight?” he asks. A flash of hope, along with the tinge of dismay he remembers from before, travels across her face. “Not Gaston’s,” he adds quickly. “I want to find somewhere new with you. For us.”

Her face floods with warmth, eyes gazing into his searchingly. He desperately scans her beautiful face, seeking some inkling of her true feelings; the ones he knows she’s bottling up.

“You’re right, it is long overdue,” she says finally, her gaze steady. “And I’d really like that, to find somewhere new to go to dinner with you. But I can’t do tonight.”

His heart sinks a little, and as if sensing this, like she always seems to, she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I’m out for drinks with Si, Aurora and Jackie tonight. But we’ll go soon.”

She offers him a soft smile, which he returns.

It doesn’t quite quell the slight but unmistakable feeling of anxiety in his stomach. It’s guilt, it’s the gnawing thought that he will never be good enough for her, the idea that he’s taken her for granted.

Worst of all, there is the completely irrational, but terrible notion that he could lose her.

And somehow, the thought that he could lose her in living rather than in death, as he had once feared, is almost more terrible.

She gently lets go of his hand. On the other side of the room, Tobias hangs up the phone.

“I’m going to go and speak to Jake’s parents,” says Elle, slipping off and readjusting her white coat.

Ethan’s eyes travel over her form-fitting pencil skirt, clinging to her delicate body in all the right places.

He doesn’t miss the way Tobias’ do the same. Then, as if knowing he’s being watched, he looks up at Ethan. His eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch.

Ethan wants nothing more than to sock him in the jaw.

“We’ll check in later, once Harper’s finished surgery?” she asks, breaking the two men out of their reverie.

Ethan nods, and Elle bids them goodbye. The click of her heels on the linoleum echoes into the tense silence. Then, he can’t hold it in any longer.

“Could you be,” Ethan begins through gritted teeth, “a little more fucking subtle, Carrick?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I can’t help it, Ethan, and clearly neither can you. A woman like that, body like that…we’re just as powerless as any other red-blooded male.”

Ethan curls his fists in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk about Elle like that. I won’t have you disrespecting her in that way,” he spits, taking a step towards him.

“You want to talk about disrespecting her?” counters Tobias, unflinching. “Because I think taking a stroll down memory lane with your ex, every five minutes, is pretty disrespectful to the woman you’re currently fucking.”

Ethan is stunned. Had she told Tobias that it had happened before? Did she tell him they were seeing eachother, or had Tobias clocked it himself? What exactly had they talked about while they were away?

“Elle is- she’s off limits,” he snaps, the only response his seething mind is able to come up with.

Tobias smiles, satisfied at seeing the other man riled up. Then, infuriatingly, he turns away.

“Who decided that, Ethan?” he says quietly over his shoulder “Her or you?”

And with that, Tobias turns and leaves.

*******

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading this far! I wanted to explore the dynamic between Elle and Tobias, and the way I wrote him in this fic reflects my own thoughts about him; I think he’s a good guy, as demonstrated by him helping to save her life and his thoughtfulness, but I’m definitely suspicious of his ulterior motives and his past actions. I also wanted the sexual tension between Ethan, Elle and Tobias, and was hoping that PB would make Tobias call out Ethan shutting her out of meetings. They didn’t deliver so I did it myself lol Also wanted Ethan to start feeling insecure about the way he’s been treating Elle since his behaviour has been trash thanks to the OOC writing, but I still love him

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Trial and Error (Derek x Reader)

A/N: This has been something living in my brain for a while, and I decided to get it out, along with 5 prompts.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Thank you to @xteenwolfwritingsx and @mymonandsymon for looking this over for me!

Warnings: Some language. As close to smut as I write, (If you squint.) Mostly just fluff, though.

Word count: 1,646

Anon said: “"I'd kill you on the spot if you weren't so nice to look at. Because, full offence, your personality needs a lot of work."”

Anon said: “Can you do 93 & 99 w/ derek hale pls :) thank you!”

(93. “Forget it. You fucking suck.”

99. “Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.”)

Anon said: “Hello! I was wondering if you would be willing to do numbers 8 and 101 with Derek Hale from the the most recent list you have posted? If not it’s okay, thank you ❤️”

(8. “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

101. “You got a cute butt.”)

Xxx

You’d barely made it into the loft before you were pinned up against the far wall, Derek holding your hands up on either side of your head at the wrists, his grip much tighter than it should be, but not as much as it could be.

“I thought I told you to stay on your side of the city,” he hissed out, face inches from yours, eyes glowing red, and a low growl rumbling in his chest.

His eyebrows knit in confusion at your smirk, his body pressing against yours as you made a halfhearted effort to push you both off the wall.

Rolling your eyes, you let out a breathy chuckle, which only made him cock one eyebrow up in either amusement or disbelief, you weren’t sure.

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked, both his tone and his weight easing up a bit.

His mistake.

“Oh, nothing,” you mused, looking up and away from him for a few seconds before flipping you both around, holding him pinned against the wall in the same position, your own eyes glowing their bright red as he let out an annoyed snarl. “Just thinking about how things can change in an instant….”

The breath was knocked out of you as you once again were pinned to the wall, this time his weight almost fully against you to keep you still. “What do you want?” He ground out through clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help thinking that the two of you would have been great friends if it weren’t for both of you being Alpha’s. Pack rivalry and whatnot overriding much of any chance at getting any closer than you were now, which given your position physically, was actually pretty damn close.

Baby steps.

“I have an idea,” you began after letting out a huff. Resigned to being stuck against the wall, you relaxed a bit, deciding to try and placate the Big Bad Sourwolf instead of poking him with a metaphorical stick, no matter how fun the latter was. “It would save both of our packs a lot of hassle, and probably save some innocent lives, too, come to think of it-”

“No,” he said firmly, his hold relaxing just a bit.

You looked at him in shock. “You haven’t even heard-”

“I said no!” His voice just as firm as before, he pushed off the wall for emphasis, your body relaxing just slightly, and you rubbed your wrists, despite the fact they were already pretty much healed.

“I’m just trying to be a good leader, Derek, offering you peace and my help for both our sakes and our packs, but because of whatever vendetta you have for me, you’re not willing to listen. Well, you know what? Forget it. You fucking suck.”

Stalking toward the loft door, Derek grabbed your elbow firmly and lightly tugged you to face him, making you roll your eyes again. “What, Hale?”

“I know. Look, I’m sorry. I really don’t know what it is I don’t like about you, I just don’t.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet as you fiddled them absently.

Grabbing your shoulders to make you stand still again, you straightened your back and looked him in the eye. It wasn’t the gesture that caught your attention, but the gentleness in it. A new side of Derek Hale had just showed itself, a side you always thought was there, but never got to see, except when he was interacting with his pack.

Very small baby steps.

“But,” he continued pointedly, “I’m willing to put that all aside to listen, for our packs and everyone involved.”

“You’ll really hear me out?” You hated how small your voice sounded.

“I’ll try my hardest.” He smiled a real, genuine smile, and you felt some of the ice crack between you two.

You returned the grin with a small one of your own, before finally saying, “Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.”

Derek laughed, and let go of your shoulders, walking back into the loft, and after a few seconds, you followed him. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked and said, “I’m just trying to be nice.”

You scoffed, then let out a chuckle. "I'd kill you on the spot if you weren't so nice to look at. Because, full offense, your personality needs a lot of work."

Sitting on the couch, he spread his arm out in gesture to the open spot beside him, his own smirk still firmly in place. “So I’ve been told.”

Xxx

Waking up to the wee hours of the morning and a silent loft, you looked around bleary eyed. Once you realized where you were, and who was with you, your eyes went wide.

Laying on the far end of the couch, his legs tangling with yours in the middle at some point while you were both asleep, was Derek, head propped up on the arm of the couch, mouth wide open as a snore escaped him.

You couldn’t contain the giggle from the completely uncharacteristic image of the big bad Hale Alpha, and turned into the couch cushion to smother the sound.

It was only a second later you looked back, but you still jumped as now Derek was looking at you with one eye barely cracked open, his mouth closed in a tight line, but his eyebrow raised in what you now understood was amusement.

Lightly swatting his leg with your own, he said a mock “ow”, but neither of you untangled your legs.

Propping your elbows on the arm of the couch behind you, you glared at him. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?”

You swatted at his legs again, and he did the same, both of you grinning lightly.

“Did the alarm go off or something?” He lazily looked to a box on the wall that must have been some sort of baddie alarm, his hand going to the back of his neck to scratch sleepily. Contented with what he saw, he looked back at you, stilling, hand still on his neck. “What?”

“Why do you assume I woke you on purpose? Why would I put myself in a position to endure even more of your company than I have already had today, which, by the way, is I think more than we have had at once ever?”

He grinned. “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

You shrugged, smirking right back at him. “You got a cute butt.”

“Why, thank you,” he said cheekily, his grin doing the same.

Batting his legs again lightly, you heard him mutter, “Okay, that’s it,” and you suddenly found yourself pulled toward him, until you were basically straddling him, your wrists once again tightly held in his hands.

“Stop doing that.” His voice was firm, but soft. His eyes searched your face, but for what, you didn’t know.

Digging your knees into his rib cage, just as some sort of retaliation, he groaned softly at the pressure. You leaned down close to his face and whispered, “Make me.”

Suddenly faster than you could blink, your positions had been flipped, him now straddling you, holding you down. “Okay.”

Trying to fight back, you quickly gave up, huffing, much like earlier in the day, looking up at him with a less than enthusiastic look.

Searching your face again with his eyes, he finally landed on your gaze with knit eyebrows.

Raising yours in question, he let go of your wrists, but you left them beside your head, and he sat back on his haunches, your legs still under him.

“I’m trying to figure out what it is about you that drives me so crazy.”

“I have that effect on lots of people,” you said smugly. “I’m awesome like that.”

“That! That’s it.” He pointed at you, and you sat up, elbows once again on the arm of the couch, eyebrows once again raised in confusion. “Yeah, you drive me crazy, but I’m starting to think it’s not because we hate each other or annoy each other-”

“Are you sure? Because you’re kinda driving me insane just a little bit right now-”

He leaned back over you on your perch on the armrest, face closer than it ever had been, and you found yourself staring at his lips. “Am I?”

If it hadn’t been the look in his eyes, the sound of his voice with those last two words did it. Your eyes drifted shut when he finally met you with a kiss, surprisingly soft and tentative given the tension between you two.

But that was just the first one.

Pulling back just enough to look at you one more time, something was exchanged between you without words and you both surged forward in a heated kiss.

Slowly laying back down all the way, your hands briefly in his hair to make sure this never stopped, pulling him with you, his hands grabbed your wrists putting them by your head like before, but this time trailing his fingers lightly from your elbows up to your hands, fingers tangling with yours as he held your hands.

Instead of restricting, his weight now felt warm, and inviting, and the more of it you felt, the more you wanted.

Turning your head to the side, you had a small grin on your face, but it soon turned into a soft gasp as you felt his lips ghosting ever so lightly over your skin, working from your collarbone, up your neck, and to your ear, where he bit the lobe gently.

When he released it after a second, you turned your head to look at him, lips barely touching one another’s, foreheads pressed together, and heavy breaths being shared, almost as if the breath one was breathing out was what the other required to live.

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02 @palaiasaurus64 @shydinosaurcandy @lucyqueenofthestars @c-breanne1999 @l4life @ethereallysimple What’s this?

[notnctu]

sugar | s.j ❀

━ listen to: sugar by brockhampton 

❀ johnny suh x fem!reader ❀ genre - smut, angst, fluff? ❀ details - fwb!au, kinda unrequited love? who knows lol, sweet love makin ❀ word count - 2k ❀ synopsis - he’s always a call away, ready to love you when you think no one else will. and this will be the one time you ask him to spend the night because johnny suh is the only sweetener you need in your bitterness. 

❀ a/n: hello its author doie❀! its based off of the song sugar which is one of my favs ever so i hope u enjoy this smut, rlly this was just me avoiding explicit words lol ps i have never laughed harder in my life when @legendnct​​ (ily hannah) asked me if i was J O R N Y when i told her i was writing this at 4am 

The honey dripping, rush of candy goodness, and sugar high of a man --- Johnny Suh. He’s like walking on sunshine, no other cares in the world can harm him, and with a bright happiness that promises anything worth fighting for.

He stands six feet tall of sunflowers that turn up to the clear blue skies and soak up the positive energy needed for growth. Johnny Suh, the man that has sugar addicts craving for a slice of his attention; Johnny Suh is the epitome of goodness and virtue.

And the puzzling, estranged question of why you are his subject of sweetness is beyond any galaxy and he’d never tell a soul his reason behind his many dazed gazes, or if they even had much meaning to them. Johnny Suh is the one boy that wears his heart on his sleeve, but holds your’s at his fingertips.

There have been many countless encounters of long and, some unfortunately short, nights of sleeping with bodies that only add to the list of people you’ve kissed. But to have consistency in that aspect? Quite hesitant, to say the least.

While you are able to tolerate a random one night stand with no necessary remembrance of the individual’s name, to give your vulnerability and consistent attention to one person is asking for too much. A flawed characteristic of yours is falling in love too easily.

The hookups are meaningless, quick fucks to fill the evening and rid the irritable desire of lust. The muscles involved exclude the heart because there is no opportunity to fall for someone if you are only going to part ways right afterwards.

Yet, the one remarkable night with Johnny turned into several nights which led into your current relationship with the glowing sun. The one thing you had wished to steer away from --- a friend with benefits.

There was no metaphorical gun to your head, you weren’t forced to sign a contract, there were no ridiculously restrictive rules. No boundaries to hold you back.

When there is no fencing around the edge of a cliff, is that grounds for people to free fall? Regardless, your lack of self control and demising loneliness had you jumping and falling into Johnny’s comfort. The golden boy is someone hard to come by, and you’re not foolish enough to turn down this once in a lifetime chance to be intimately acquainted.

But as you continued to see him, there was an unconscious decision to stop your other random flings. It felt like you already had someone to fulfill the ache, someone to spend your nights with. If you needed him, he’d be there. So, unknowingly by choice, you made yourself exclusive to him, even though Johnny did not decide to do the same.

That shouldn’t bother you, right? But it does. The worst part is that it’s no one’s fault but your own. Johnny’s harmless actions affect you because your feelings allow them to. As much as you ignore the fact you two are nothing more than friends with benefits, the annoying drumming of your foolish heart reminds you of your denial.

While you’ve always had a bitter palette, the dash of sweetener never hurt anyone. He never hurts anyone, with his best efforts. And the intent should have been made clear, that your nightly hookups are an unhealthy coping mechanism. Too much sugar has your glucose levels derailing and seeking out the one person that lights up your endorphins.

The love for Johnny stems from his warmhearted character. His bubbly, goodwill nature that has him overextending himself for people who take him for granted. An extroverted, head-turning personality that you can’t despise and look away, instead are easily attracted to.

Johnny is kind, he’s thoughtful, yet entirely complex as a human being with a fair share of cloudy days. He is simply someone you want to get to know because he makes the atmosphere a safe space and he reads like an open hardback book.

Everyone has a small crush on him, it would be a complete tyranny of your feelings to deny it. Some infatuations are bigger than others and you’ll shamefully admit that you fit under this group of individuals.

On another lonely night, you wonder if he’d be at your will and call, if he would drop the world to come make you feel better. One moment, you are staring at his contact name and imaging the deep voice answering with his signature greeting. The next, you’re actually hearing his voice on the other end of the receiver and panic settles as it’s too late to cancel the call.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” The nickname sends a crown of hearts swirling around your temples. However, he sounds rushed, like he had been in the middle of a strenuous activity.

A nervousness has stammered words falling from your lips, and you’re too incoherent for even your own mind to understand. Johnny chuckles lovingly, and the slight rustling that distorts the background has you imagining that the phone is pressed between his cheek and shoulder. “Collect your thoughts, babe. I’m ready whenever you are.”

A heavy notable sigh erupts into Johnny’s ear, but he doesn’t pull away from the device. He’s all ears, attentive and patiently waiting for you to speak, despite having company on his bed.

“I need you. Can you come over?” If only pride wasn’t so hard to swallow, the question would have flowed much smoother. As if your heart grew hands, it chokes your throat from the inside and you’re preparing yourself for the rejection.

Truthfully, he isn’t obligated to come and there have been rare nights where he declines your offer. But your hope holds onto the slipping strands and the tension of your nerves have fists forming and eyes squeeze shut.

Johnny takes a fast peek at the girl already in his sheets, mindlessly and effortlessly scrolling through her social media. There is a hint of sadness in your voice that he can’t let go and while that’s usually not entirely uncommon, he can tell it took a lot for you to call tonight. So, he finds himself pulling up his sweats and a clean shirt over his head.

“Be there before you know it.” And the clench in your throat relaxes, along with the other parts that had your nails digging moon crescents into your palm and wrinkles forming at your tight creases.

And with a sweet goodbye, he hangs up the call and politely offers to take the girl home as he makes his way over to your place. And you’re dosing yourself in puffs of fruity scents and cleaning up the runny mascara around your under eyes.

With no words exchanged, Johnny knows every way to heal you and dawn a warmth that coats your darkest corners. All you have to do is open the door and let him in. His strength has you lifted from the ground, lips hungry to devour your softness.

A few fumble steps, he reaches your room at ease and gently lays you on your neatly made sheets. Johnny is consistent, no missed beats when it comes to loving you, and without a fail, he always takes a moment to himself to step back and admire your beauty. And your priceless shyness is also an added delight to the scene.

Each article of clothing is discarded and left at different areas of your small room, kisses lining your worst parts to you, but the best parts to him. When you can’t love parts of yourself, Johnny loves them for you and makes you whole.

“Were you in the middle of something?” It did not become aware to you of the possibility that you had interrupted something else, or someone else. And even if Johnny did choose to see you over spending time with them, you have the decent courtesy to make sure he is okay with his decision.

“Nothing important.” You’ll never be able to read him or notice any lies he tells. His smile is enough reassurance, and your question is quickly forgotten when his fingers dive into your wet flower. He uses his thumb to soothe circles around your growing bud, making your whole lower half blossom with trembling ecstasy.

His lips leave soft reminders to love your thighs, your legs, to not overlook their importance: they carry your graciousness into new ventures. Then, he pushes them wide open as he bends your left knee and your right dangles over his sturdy shoulder. The tight grip on your hip is bound to leave marks the next morning, along with the dark love bites he leaves across your canvas.

But his thoughts are focused on the meal ahead, your sugary juices coat the plush of his tongue. He remembers exactly how you like it, where melodic sounds hit the silence in gasps or groans. He suckles, he licks, he kisses your bead in a speed that has his brown locks tangled in between your fingers.

He drinks up more than your wetness, but also the pure image of your fucked out expression and the twists of your reacting body. He wants to surpass your limits, max you out until there isn’t a hint of melancholy in your tone anymore. To remember, to remind, to recall your happiness through heightened pleasure.

At the announcement of your high, he enters your spasming hole with rubber already on and groans at your walls squeezing around him, which halts him in place. However, the dragged movement of his length hits your sweet spot, your orgasm prolongs into a rapturous euphoria and you’re no longer in control of your body.

Johnny’s toned arms hold you close to him. The chemistry in your gazes has your heart pounding faster than his hips. As ruthless as each thrust is and each push moves you an inch upward on the bed, Johnny’s eyes are still kind and loving.

His fluttering kisses are delicate and nurturing. The marks resemble a healing touch that will settle you enough for the next day. For the night, he rids any angst that corrupts your mood by loving you when you think no one else will.

Together, your bodies fall into one another with a bite of elation as he finishes into the protection and your walls hug around him for the last time tonight. Even when your bodies disconnect, the feeling of fullness lingers and you wish to keep this for as long as you can. No more emptiness, not right now.

Perhaps it's the daze of your orgasm, but your hand reaches for his wrist to stop him from making his exit so soon. Selfishly, carelessly, honestly, this will be the one time you ask for him to spend the night. You can’t stand seeing him go, not at this instant. You refuse to spend one more night alone when your heart longs for him to be by your side when you fall asleep.

While the big heart of his beats speechlessly at your request, he lays down to draw you into his toned chest and pampers your forehead with honeyed pecks. Like many times before, no words need to be exchanged for him to know the remedy to your somber.

Possibly, the scene with Johnny caressing your chin and tracing your smile lines is all too perfect for your imperfect reality. And him whispering and wishing a happier narrative for you is more than what you had asked for. Nonetheless, he’s very good at it, mentally noting the fact that he’s probably done the same to other hookups or broken friends.

While you can get used to this form of aftercare, the guards you put up tell you that this is a one time thing. So, you’ll take and indulge all of Johnny’s affection and false love for the next few hours you had left of the night.

Nevertheless, even sweetness can be an overpowering flavor when consumed in tremendous amounts. And you wonder when you’d grow sick of his candied sugar or if you’d just forfeit your health to keep indulging more into your addiction. A sickly saccharine question of your own will be the pit of your downfall: do you love me?

[visionsofus]

Prompt for the mixtape: Wanda and Vision training together at the compound... and by training we all know we mean flirting

hi! thank you for this! I just feel like any time Wanda and Vis train it always dissolves into flirting and messing about (even if they're super serious for missions). I felt like writing a little capture the flag scenario, it's not long but I hope it's fun to read!

Track #27: Power - Isak Danielson

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Capture the flag with the Avengers was always going to be a little different than your average summer camp game. It's made worse by the fact that Wanda and Vision can't seem to keep their hands off of each other...

It was the middle of the week for the Avengers and that apparently meant a friendly game of capture the flag.

It was for training, supposedly, but Wanda was pretty sure it was just to make sure they didn’t go stir crazy during their time off. Capture the flag was a less-destructive option compared with some of the other extracurriculars her teammates had tried to pursue during their holiday.

The time off was a new initiative. For 2 weeks out of every six months they were required to take time off and recuperate. The new rule was a result of a psychological evaluation that had been conducted two months earlier, finding that everyone was under an exorbitant amount of stress. It had been decided that in order for everyone to look after themselves properly there needed to be enforced holiday time.

As Wanda trod through the grass, her training boots softening the blow of her stomping, she couldn’t help thinking of the warm bed that she had been dragged from. Time off was supposed to mean lots of risk and relaxation, right?

Apparently not for a team of stressed-out superheroes with nothing to do.

The rest of the team had assembled on the back lawn facing the mass of woods that backed onto the compound’s south side. It was the view that Wanda saw from her bedroom, which was where she was supposed to be.

She shook her head no use complaining, she’d never live it down if she didn’t participate. Plus, she was a bit excited at the opportunity of hitting something that wasn’t going to try and kill her in return. Hopefully. She had finished the last of Sam’s peanut butter the previous evening so maybe her life was in a little bit of danger.

“Hurry up!” Natasha called from the circle she had assembled for their team, comprised of Steve, herself and a reluctant Clint who was still lacing up his boots and looked as if he too had been dragged from slumber. “I picked you for our team.”

Wanda surveyed their opponents – Tony, Rhodey, Sam and Vision. She grinned, her typical competitive spirit sparking at that. The last time they’d done a training exercise like this she and Vision had been on the same side; it would be interesting to actually try fighting him in a real time exercise. She grinned at Vision, a daring glint in her eyes and relished the way he stared, his eyes tracking up her body. Yes, this was going to be very fun.

There was a map set out on a plastic table, indicating where their flags were and how the forest was to be divided, with the river that ran through it the midline. The two teams took a moment to strategies. It was always a pain to pick who would be the one guarding the flag because everyone was competitive enough that they wanted to be part of the action. Thankfully, Clint volunteered, and Wanda was left to lead their attack, with Steve and Nat set on being the decoys.

“Usual rules, first person to get the opposing team’s flag wins, only one person guarding the flag at a time and please try not to destroy the forest?” Steve said pulling out one blue flag and one yellow flag, handing the latter to Sam.

Everyone made noises of agreement, but they were already shifting up to the starting line, bodies tensed and muscles tight, ready to launch themselves into the trees.

All it took was the clap of a starting gun and they jumped into motion. Each team set off in opposite directions while Vision disappeared in a blink. Wanda knew he would be at their flag, the last line of defence. A wise choice and one that would make her job all the more fun.

Wanda wasn’t as fast, but she was light on her feet and easily snuck through into the yellow team’s territory with no one noticing. It appeared Steve and Nat were taking their distraction role seriously.

Her powers made it easy to move about in confined spaces and so she darted between the branches of towering trees, using her powers to push herself off of thick boughs. Her boots ring off branches as she used the foliage for cover. Below her there was the sound of heavy footfalls and she saw Rhodey appear, sneaking off towards their territory. A few moments later Nat appeared hot on his toes, silent as ever. She glanced up at Wanda and grinned. Her thumbs up let Wanda know that the coast was clear.

Reinvigorated, Wanda launched herself over roots and onto the rough forest floor, her feet bounding. As her legs burned, she felt Vision. Technically it might have been cheating in some ways – but Steve didn’t specify if there were any restrictions on her power and based on the sound of explosions at her back no one else was holding back. Vision was nearby, she could feel like calling to like.

Nevermind that Wanda had warned Vision about how open he let his mind be, making it easy for anyone like her to slip inside. He was blasting his presence loud and clear for her.

Wanda thundered to a stop next to the wide river whose waters filled the lake near the compound. It rushes, the swell strong from the previous week’s rain and on the other side of the misting water was Vision. His arms were set confidently on his hips and behind him she caught the yellow glimmer of his flag tied around a tree branch.

Vision shrugged casually when he saw her, but Wanda didn’t let his nonchalance hold her back. She launched herself across the rushing water, her powers propelling her forcefully into the air. She barely made it halfway across, Vision reached her too quickly.

They collided remarkably softly, and Wanda smirked at how Vision’s hand reached around her waist to steady her. In a moment she was returned to the banks and Vision was where he was moments earlier. Damn super speed. She thought. Wanda can still feel the warmth of his bare hand on her back. Damn feelings.

“That’s not fair!” She called across the water. As she spoke, she darted to the left and Vision easily mirrored her movement, ready to stop her.

“It’s all part of the game Wanda, darling,” Vision teased. Wanda’s eyes narrowed at the term of endearment, surely antagonising the enemy should have been against the rules.

She feinted, moving one way before spinning in the opposite direction. As predicted, Vision wasn’t fooled, and he followed her motions easily. As Wanda jumped again Vision moved to meet her in the middle, hovering easily above the water. Instead, Wanda let her power go and dropped rapidly, almost hitting the water below. She recovered just in time to push her powers off the water and land on the bank. She hit the ground with a thud, her knees stinging a little on impact but wasted no time getting up again, eyes searching for the bright yellow flag she had been put in charge of retrieving.

Vision recovered quickly and in moments he was in front of her. Wanda stepped sideways and he moved. She threw a punch and he blocked, he feinted, and she easily saw through his manoeuvre. Neither of them could get past each other’s guard but they like the challenge.

There was a reason she was rarely paired with Vision during training. For one, their powers were too well matched to hurt each other so they tended to end up damaging the space around them. And then there was the fact that it could never just be fighting with them. There always had to be teasing, flirting, names, exploiting each other’s well-known weaknesses.

Wanda backed up, relishing in how Vision strode after her, the world blurred at the edges. She tilted her head with a cocky smile and raised her hands, red balls of energy forming. One after another she hurled them in his direction, but Vision was too quick. He actually laughed as he spun and dodged her carefully aimed strikes, instead they ricocheted off the trees around them. Frustrated, Wanda changed strategies.

With great effort she sent a bubble of power and encased Vision. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for Wanda to launch herself up onto the nearest tree bough. Vision struggled as he waded out of her energy field, his head snapping around to figure out where she had disappeared to.

Wanda’s breathless laugh was all it took for him to figure out where she was. His head tilted upwards at the same time Wanda launched herself from the tree, hurtling straight for his chest. She hoped that the force of her power and gravity would sending him careening to the ground, but Vision, with all his strength and infuriating grace, simply caught her around the waist. He pulled her close, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.

“Hi there,” Wanda breathed, blinking at the sudden closeness.

“Darling, you’re blushing,” Vision said softly, and heat raced up Wanda’s neck. He wasn’t playing fair, but she was more annoyed with herself for caving to such simple tactics. With one push he reluctantly let her go and her feet hit the ground.

“Maybe,” Wanda punched as Vision blocked, “if you didn’t keep calling me pet names – I wouldn’t be blushing.” In a moment she thought she had him, with her leg hooked around Vision’s knee and using her power to pull him to the ground. But Vision’s speed put him at an advantage, and he caught her off guard by grabbing her hands and holding them tightly.

“That can be fixed,” Vision whispered close to her ear, and she shivered. Despite the situation and how close their bodies were there was a hesitancy to his behaviour that made her legs feel shaky. “Is dear more suitable?” he asked, and Wanda jumped when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Or my love,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her jaw.

“Wanda,” he murmured against her lips, and it was question and a confession all at once. Nobody said her name like he did. So, Wanda gave in. she pulled him to a standing position, pulling his arms around her waist as she kissed him breathlessly.

“We probably should focus on the game,” Vision whispered, his hand pushing her hair back from her face so he could layer kisses across her cheek and down her neck.

“Yeah, you’re making a great argument for that...” Wanda hissed.

Frustrated, she caught his chin in her hand and relished the way he looked at her. The adoration, the longing. She’d never get sick of those eyes.

“Kiss me, please,” Wanda murmured, trailing her fingers up his neck. In moments they were pressed up against the very tree that held the flag Vision had forgotten he was supposed to be guarding.

She reached up, masking the movement by running her hand through his hair. With him sufficiently distracted she reached further, her fingers brushing against the silky fabric of the flag.

With one hand pressed against Vision’s abdomen and his mouth distracted by her kisses she was able to send the flag flying over to a waiting Natasha who was waiting casually on the riverbank.

A sharp whistle pierced the air as Nat grasped the fabric and holding it above her head in triumph.

Vision froze and broke away from Wanda, looking slightly dazed.

“That’s really not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair in love and war, darling,” Wanda grinned, biting her lip.

“Gee thanks for the help lovebird!” Rhodey called and Vision hung his head in embarrassment.

“Vision you’re supposed to protect the flag, not fraternise with the enemy!” Tony called, arriving at the riverbank with a blue flag in his grip, he’d apparently grabbed it moments after Wanda had gotten their flag to Natasha.

“I wasn’t fraternising!”

“What do you call that then?”

Vision was stumped at that, and he let Wanda lead him back to the others, his hand a constant presence at her back, their fingers woven together. The others began to recollect their favourite moments, the game well and truly over.

“I’ll get you next time,” Vision said confidently, looking down at Wanda.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” Wanda scrunched her nose up in a smile as she kissed Vision’s cheek, his arms circling her waist in a hug.

[coffeeshoptalkks]

nct 127 kibbe types

key: (D) dramatic, (SD) soft dramatic, (FN) flamboyant natural, (N) natural, (SN) soft natural, (DC) dramatic classic, (C) classic, (SC) soft classic, (FG) flamboyant gamine, (G) gamine, (SG) soft gamine, (TR) theatrical romantic, (R) romantic

the boyss ! ! ! 

taeil: SG? little unsure about this one... i considered R but his limbs are longer than an Rs would be but i would probably say he has a R essence as flowier fabrics like this look good on him

relatively large head in comparison to body

isnt delicate the way a TR would be

also TR lines don’t look great on him

im so sorry i always use ten for TR but like, TRs are freaking hard to type and hes non ambiguous so whoops

you can really see the contrast here

i feel like they always style him as a FG? and he just doesn’t have the yang to handle it 

think all the hair colors, excess excess amount of details that ty wears a lot

johnny: SD - sliGht C undertone 

long and lanky ass balloon man

thats all i got... jk. kinda

not a D, too much yin.

i’ve seen FN but really, hes not frame dominant, just looks tallish with a little squish in him

handles details decently well - oversized isn’t the best look

the reason i said a tiny c essence/undertone is because i prefer him in more minimalist SD clothing, more detail does start to look a little ridiculous (i promise i mean that in the nicest way possible lol, don’t come for my entp ass)

the classic comes in cause he looks PHENOMENAL in traditionally classic lines with a little umph and also looser classic lines (the yin in SD)

i needed to include this masterpiece

taeyong: FG. ah yes, the debate about ty... some argue D but he just doesn’t have the vertical line

(sitting somewhere btween D and FG, but FG fits better)

obviously a yang type

but you immediately remove any sort of natural and SD cause he isn’t wide and he isn’t squishy

doesn’t have the vertical line for a D, even from a lower angle you don’t look at him and go “yes, hes really tall” and thats what Ds are really about

it doesn’t matter how tall someone actually is, its how tall they appear to be, and taeyong just looks his height

think about how well ty carries every concept

thats a FG thing. (i can’t find the exact quote but a staff member said that its really interesting to style ty because u can put so many elements on him without it overpowering him

yuta: FG. if taeyong is a FG then so is Yuta

somewhere on the spectrum between FG and D but has to be put in FG just cause a dramatic’s first and foremost trait is vertical line

my next guess would be SD but really he doesnt have enough yin in him, hes all sharp

but because hes sitting somewhere in between he’s not gonna carry as much detail as a “purer(?)” FG

hes 100% yang based but doesn’t have the vertical line of a pure D

this looks phenomenal

he looks like a friggin anime character excUse me sir

i’m fine no i’m not

doyoung (dongyoung): SD. i’ve seen DC, and i do get the argument, but he isn’t as sharp as a DC would be.

you take a look at this and he just isn’t sharp in the way that seonghwa or vernon are

hes definitely a yang type but hes got an undercurrent of yin 

how do i explain this

SDs actually have a lot more yin than DCs despite them being placed closer to dramatic in a lot of graphs. (you know the ones i’m talking about)

even if you could make an argument for vertical line (as i think doyoung has a moderate to long one)

kai (a DC/C) is over 180 and yes he has a vertical line, but he has more yang than doyoung - hes just more boxy and has less yin

when i’m having trouble typing an idol i start looking really heavily at outfits and how they suit each style

doyoung just doesn’t make classic suits pop in the way a DC would

he looks restricted and needs a little extra yin detail to match 

the neck scarf with the draping absolutely ties this look together and he absolutely rocks it

he just doesn’t give me DC vibes and i really do think that SD fits him better

jaehyun: SC. leaning on pure classic with some sort of yin essence

okay, ngl i had problems with this one

I saw somewhere (probably reddit lmao) that jaehyun has a SD head on a not SD body... and i couldn’t agree more

my first instinct was to go to SD but really, he doesn’t have the vertical line and details don’t feel right

idk if its just how he’s styled but i really can’t find an era where i lOve what jaehyun is in

i genuinely think he’s just a larger boned SC with some SD mixed in with a weird combo of essences

a good example of a SC ish look is this where you can see the moderate vertical line (despite being 5′11/180)

it might be my personal bias coming in but i really do like him in more minimal and somewhat looser clothing opposed to him drowning in details

this confuses me cause it feels like it should work but it doesn’t...

this looks awesome this is pretty darn decent but i still feel like something is missing 

i compared jae’s vertical line to the SC poster boy joshua (svt 5th from the left) and kai (DC/C) and felt they josh’s was pretty similar but really, i wouldn’t rule out any of the classics or SD

idk if its just how he’s styled but i really can’t find an era where i lOve what jaehyun is in

tldr: big boned SC and thats as close as i’m gonna get lol

mark: FG. pretty self explanatory lol

leaning yang but obviously not a natural or (S) dramatic or classic

leaves you with FG

very sharp facial features

sharp sharp sharp

and a decent vertical line (looks his height ish)

rocks pretty much every hair color on the planet

if you asked me to nail down an essence i wouldn’t be able to hes just a FG lol

jungwoo: FN. classic essence

heres my problem with jungwoo... like jaehyun his type gets really ambiguous cause of essences not matching his actual body type (classic essence, FN type in this case)

because really, hes just too tall to be a DC,

too box like for SD

and his skin is much too yin to be a pure D (he is very squish, a true D - wonwoo svt is taught and yang through and through)

and once you rule out DC cause of height you’re kinda left with??

but his vertical line is just too prominent to be a DC, but hes not as shoulder heavy as most FNs and just?

*insert clown face*

a DC wouldn’t carry an oversized outfit like this

i actually like him in stuff like this, if not a little less oversized, he just looks so cozy

this gets close-ish but he looks a tad bit constricted

the reason i finally just gave in to FN is cause its as close as i think i can get. SD and D aren’t right, hes not a SN or pure N (jun svt) and in this pic (and others) you can kinda start to see that he IS actually more frame dominant than you first expect. (think like yanan pentagon, - minus the shoulders - super long limbs, lanky but still relatively squarish)

so FN it is

tldr: FN with a classic essence cause really thats (imo) the closest and best option you have and confused kpop fan 

haechan (donghyuck): G. right now i would put him in pure G but he might hit FG at some point in the future cause he isn’t 21 in international age and his type is still settling

boom vs resonance

okay its not that different but i sWEar hes picked up more yang somewhere

not a SG because his isn’t absolutely massive in comparison to the rest of his body 

chenle i’m looking at you (fifth from the left)

moderate to short-ish vertical line

sharp jawline vs squish face but he doesn’t have the sharp yang of a FG (mark)

just still got some squish on him 

[revasnaslan]

🌪️🎀👖🎷📣 for the skyrim crew

🌪️ what is the biggest change you’ve ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Nalvyne has existed since around 2016. She's actually the first dragonborn I ever played as and the main one I continue to play as, mostly because the Dunmer are my favorite 💜💜 very little has changed about her personality, although she's gotten a bit more sarcastic over the years... but she's always been relatively cool-headed, she's always been the kind to avoid outright conflict (even when she caused it), she's always had a father and a niece/nephew, and she and teldryn have always been a couple. I think one of the biggest changes to their backstory happened as a result of this au. they already know each other here, they've been together for years, so they've already worked out their shit and settled yknow? where originally there was a lot more push-and-pull because they were figuring their shit out during the dragon crisis.

Trahtus has also existed since around 2016, albeit under a different name. He also was barely developed, outside of his basic character premise. With him I wanted to explore an Altmer who was at least partially allied with the Thalmor in some way, but who had fled the Aldmeri Dominion. That is still his basic backstory, since he comes from a very important and prestigious family who is heavily aligned with the Thalmor. One of the biggest changes (outside of being paired with Muragh, who didn't exist back then because we were not friends then) is that he and Ondolemar are brothers now. And I think that adds a lot to both of their characterizations.

Harald is the newest, so he really hasn't existed that long. The original premise for him was Archetypal Chosen One, because he's the quintessential Nord hero. Son of the nobility, warrior, appears rather masculine. But in reality his personality is a complete departure from that ideal and he doesn't actually want to be the chosen one at all. I really think the eureka moment for him was deciding that he was Ulfric's son. It opened up so many doors for us from a writing perspective and really enhanced the story we were going for.

🎀 how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

Can you imagine an au where all of them were dragonborns. It'd be absolute chaos 🤣🤣

My personal favorite is still that au we came up with there Trahtus and Muragh get an arranged marriage, and then proceed to still have the slowest of burns because they respect each other too much to make a goddamn move at risk of offending the other due to differing cultures.

👖 what is their go-to outfit?

Trahtus has... Refined Tastes, shall we say? He feels much more comfortable in fancy, flowing fabric than he does in actual armor. If the outfit isn't "pretty" enough, he's going to embroider it until it suits his tastes. However, his favorite outfit is probably the battlemage armor Muragh makes him so he'll be properly protected in the field. It isn't restrictive or too bulky/heavy, it's actually quite fashionable, and she made it herself, specifically for him, so it fits him perfectly. He didn't even see any need to alter it 😊😊

I think Harald likes things simple. Extravagance isn't really his thing despite growing up in a rather wealthy court for most of his life. He does like furs, but I think that has more to do with living in the middle of Eastmarch than anything else. It Be Cold There. I also think he's very comfortable in his armor, because fighting is something he's actually good at.

Nalvyne feels most at home in her Nightingale armor. One of the benefits of being a Nightingale of Nocturnal is that the gift she received allows her to completely disappear into the shadows, provided she's wearing her armor. It's very useful in her line of work, and because all you can see are generally her eyes, it ensures that people are too scared shitless when seeing her at night that they generally aren't going to bother her. It also comes with a built in mask, so that's a plus!

🎷 do they play any instruments? are they any good at it?

I have a feeling Trahtus does. It'd be an important part of any well-rounded Altmer education. For some reason I have been picturing him knowing how to play the harp, like one of those big ones you have to sit down to play.

Harald, though? Probably not. I do, however, have a whole headcanon surrounding Nord sea shanties and how they're often still used to pass time while on the road. He isn't trained or anything, so there's no telling if he's actually good or not, but he knows plenty of those we'll enough to sing them from memory when he's traveling. He and Ralof make a hell of a duet.

I think Nalvyne knows some good lullabies? She's been one of the sole caregivers to her niece and nephew since their fathers (her younger brothers) died very suddenly, and they were rather fussy when they were younger. I know it's not an instrument but it was the first thing I thought of.

📣 how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

Trahtus is rather soft-spoken most of the time. His manner of speech is basically Jane from Tarzan, I can unironically picture him saying "what's all the hullabaloo about?" His speech in general is very formal, because he's Altmer Nobility. It's very ingrained in him at this point. don't actually have a voice claim for him, but I don't think his voice is all that deep. He would have that Pompish Accent that all Altmer in game seem to have, which means he's probably misinterpreted as being condescending but he rarely actually intends to be. It's Just The Altmer Noble Accent 😔😔

Harald, in contrast, has a pretty deep voice. Probably one of the only things he got from his father besides his eyes is the pitch of his voice. My mind actually goes to Richard Armitage, because his voice is the one that comes to mind for Ulfric despite him not voicing Ulfric at all? idk I think it's because Armitage has this Presence to his voice that works really well. Harald speaks rather informally, and how he speaks depends on who he is speaking to. He stutters when he's nervous quite often, especially when he's trying to mimic Ulfric in any way, and I think part of that is because he and his father are not the same type of person, despite him trying to force it so he's taken more seriously.

Nalvyne is the only one who I 100% have a voice claim for and it's Cree Summer. Specifically, Cree Summer as Kida. Summer has this very nice rasp to her voice that I think fits Nalvyne very well. I enjoy the headcanon that most Dunmer (who have lived in Morrowind for their entire lives) sound like that because of all the ash they've been inhaling. Unlike Harald, the Presence in her voice isn't forced, and she never stutters. She's very confident in her speech. She's also a raging asshole who enjoys poking at people. Half the words out of her mouth are sarcastic quips, it's practically a love language. She's also one of those people who uses titles in a sarcastic way (example, using "serjo" for Harald, despite not actually respecting him as nobility in the slightest).

Also I know Muragh is yours so I'm not gonna go on about her, but honestly I've been kind of picturing her voice as being similar to Zethrid's in VLD. I believe her VA is Jamie Grey Hyder? But like the deep voice with an underlying roughness to it is how I've been picturing her voice.