#notfcrcalamity

 ( because i’m Trash for Soft Nathan and Irene and a moment of peace in the rumble ) @notfcrcalamity​

    He had opened his mouth, paused, shut it and had taken a breath instead, Irene had only partially listened to what had come before as he walked with her up to the steps. He’s thinking, deciding something, she thinks. Irene knows him better than she thinks is good for anyone ( but so does he when it comes to her ) and she can only wait on the building steps, wait for him to let her in on the conclusion or for him to shake his head and kiss her goodbye before she returns back to her own desk, left to guess at what had crossed his mind on a rare, average wednesday. But he stops walking and she hovers with her foot on the next step, turning to watch him. He decides to speak now, uttering it softly as he looks to her. 

    Some part of her wonders, hovering on the steps, if he’s only saying it because half of London has been bombed into powder, because there is a war raging all around or .... because he had always wanted to but had never felt like it was right to. Irene isn’t sure which is the worst option or if any of that matters. Because he’s telling her that he loves her, has loved her for some time ( the mind reels at the thought ). She’s never seen him look so earnest, expression open and gentle and resolute ... only ever in private. He’s determined, nearly as stubborn as she is and she steps back to down to him, hand reaching out to cup his chin gently, her lips pulling slowly into her own soft smile, her own expression clouded. As if she’s trying to figure him out, if there isn’t something else lingering just beneath the surface.  

                  i will always, honestly, truly, completely love you. 

@notfcrcalamity / beat: dance with them.

and nate is gonna end up just staring at that letter going ‘??????????’

harry welsh: * mentions the reserve shoot *

Take Matthew Goode’s bod and keep Cavil’s acting. Problem solved two ways?

whatever you decide to do will be AMAZING

( @notfcrcalamity something like early years of the war )

     Irene finds that dubious, at best, as she stares at him. He is far kinder than she is sometimes and now, here, it feels as if he’s being overly generous. She isn’t about to debate whether or not she has every right, but she can’t help but feel she is now someplace she shouldn’t. It’s a feeling that is becoming harder and harder to shake, even as he smiles at her. As if that is enough to make the feeling go away.  

    ❝ Nathan that’s not the point. ❞ It comes out as a harsh whisper. No, it is absolutely not the point. It’s not about her right but whether she is supposed to be. Irene shifts her weight between her feet, watching him from the corner of her eye. She adores him, truly, and knows he means well but she’s also sure that he hasn’t quite figured out why she seems out of sorts.