#cervclle

chloé, whose wardrobe consists of low cut tops: yes you do, no one volunteers to be strangled by their own clothing

❝    YOU can pass judgement on me   ---   but leave the turtlenecks out of this, they’re innocent.  ❞

     it’s hard to say which is stranger – - receiving a birthday gift from a ( former ? ) friend after all this time, or that amélie had nearly forgotten the occasion altogether. if she thinks back, she can recall a time where celebrating their birthdays ( almost as a singular event, since there’s just a short three days between the two ) had been so normal. expected, even. now it’s almost shocking to see something from amélie’s time remembered. 

     it’s funny. with each passing year, her life before talon seems to grow ever more distant. part of her idly wonders if chloé might feel the same.

     “ happy birthday to us, i suppose, ” she mutters, poking at the cake’s wrapper with the tip of her index finger. “ you’ll have to forgive me if i do not make a wish. ”

Monopoly is serious business.

Featuring: @theamazingfantasma - @cervclle - @puddlechild - @agentdelphine - @fahej-rp and @talonsdesigner

❛It’s only a scratch. I don’t know why Brigitte sent me here... Sorry for wasting your time, Doctor.❜ Reinhardt stood up and winced, he wasn’t a fan of hospitals. Not at the very least, either.

I am here pls love me and let me love you

@cervclle replied to your post “// tfw ur starting to come back maybe but ur blog’s other half goes on...”

hello i am here /hugs

█ ║► She shouldn’t be here -- like this -- nervously shuffling her way to the woman’s door, her eyes locked to the ground as she tried desperately to come up with some sort of opening line or excuse for her being here.

She had taken time off, personal time away from everyone, so that she could just put things out there.

The blonde had been milling around with the idea, thinking about them, and what they had -- all hours of the night -- finding herself distracted as she did so.

This thing they had going -- was more than perfect for Angela, and for Chloé -- it suited them. 

She was always so hesitant to get involved with her -- any more than she’d already been, she’d called for breaks across their time together, because she wasn’t sure.

Her hand wrapped against the door of the brunette’s apartment, her hand shaking slightly as she put it back in her coat pocket.

Her eyes shot from the ground to the door frame as it flung open, the brunette standing there with a confused look on her face.

❝  -- so -- I've been doing some thinking.  ❞

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she tried her best to steady herself and breathe, breaking off her sentence as she stopped herself.

❝  We’ve never believed in or ever thought about labelling this, you and me, and I’ve never wanted to.   ❞

█ ║► Any attempt at flimsy excuses for apologies and explanations would’ve been met with well-deserved indifference from the combat medic, had she even opened her mouth to speak to her.

Their agreement to meet was shaky at best, the blonde hadn’t exactly found herself in a particularly good headspace after their no-holds-barred screamfest. Especially when Chloé had walked with the intent of refusing to listen to her argument, even more so after she left her there post-Angela revealing how much the argument was affecting her.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she was abandoned and left to her own raw vulnerable emotion, amplified by the woman’s uncertainty towards showing her upset she was.

She had no obligation to accept an apology or even let the woman into her apartment, something that was obvious when she opened the door silently, slinking behind it as she silently gestured towards the Canadian to enter.

Once they stood apart, the blonde stood, arms-crossed, still silent as the woman closed the distance between them, expecting to hear some half-assed excuse or self-serving lie, the Swiss woman expecting to shut her down as quickly as the words came out of her mouth.

She was startled, to say the least when the woman brushed the hair behind her ears and her hands rested on her cheeks, the look of genuine regret in the neurosurgeon’s eyes spoke volumes in the silence as the blonde remained sceptical of the woman’s actions.

The younger woman’s lips pressed against her own as she found herself leaning into the kiss,  her lips parting further at the small nips she felt on her lower lip, finding herself reaching for the woman as she nipped her bottom lip in response.

Finding her hands unoccupied, she began fiddling as the woman leaned off her, her mind split between the intention behind the kiss and disappointment of it’s briefness.

Her eyes focused in on the look in the woman’s eyes once more as she heard her utter her few words after their argument.

A moment of levity fell between them as she mentally perused each word that had left the woman’s mouth.

❝  -- thank you. For saying that. ❞

█ ║►  ❝  -- It’s less that I’m interested -- more so that you never talk about her.   ❞

The blonde sat silently for a few moments, almost stumbling over her words as she tried to gather some semblance of a more nuanced approach to asking the woman about her previously unmentioned and undiscussed sister.

Holding her hand underneath her child, she ceased reiterating over the words in her head in favour of a more direct approach with the younger woman.

❝  You might not get along. But -- I don’t know, I guess if I was in your position, I’d at least make reference to her here and there.   ❞