#if I had a nickel for every time in my junior year of something I drew vaguely sexy modern au altmalmar
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They like his ass
#assassin’s creed#altaïr ibn la'ahad#maria thorpe#malik al sayf#ac1#altmalmar#art#my art#ac fanart#if I had a nickel for every time in my junior year of something I drew vaguely sexy modern au altmalmar#I’d have two nickels#which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened twice#I haven’t drawn in a hot second so I hope y’all enjoy this#I’m just a lil goofy#and so are they#bro is doing crossword puzzles like a nerd#modern au
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TOP 9 BOOKS
tagged : @hmsharmony ty jennifer this was SOOO hard oh my god like. genuinely agonized me for days to think about what to choose but it was SOOO fun tho <3
tagging : @rosesau | @evcndiaz | @pendrgcn | @gayarthur | @the-tenth-arcanum | @oretsev | @wherepoetsdie | @bellamyblakru | @ryekat & anyone else who wants to do it !!!
rules : list your top 9 books obviously. i cheated a little and put series as as one option because that's just who i am as a person. most of these i chose at random from my 5 star reads from the past few years btw
1. percy jackson and the olympians (series) by rick riordan
i was never a big reader in elementary school—or at least not to the extent that my classmates had been. my sixth grade english class required us to bring a personal book from home for silent reading and i stole my brother's spine-cracked copies of pjo and brought them to class. i finished the whole series in less than a school week (i had to scramble to the library to pick up another series because the single novel should have lasted me at least three weeks). pjo literally kickstarted my love for reading as a hobby and i truly don't know how to state the importance it had on my little ten-year-old brain fr
2. on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong
i have never read a book more beautiful in prose and so uncommonly human than this. there's just something so incredibly heartbreaking knowing this whole book is the narrator's letter to his mother who can't read! like what the fuck
3. alone with you in the ether by olivie blake
this came as a surprise to Me when i first read it. i meandered through the first quarter, loving the writing style but feeling disconnected from the characters until the Church Hand Scene™ and it was hook, line, and sinker at that point (i have since come to love the disconnectedness in subsequent rereads, knowing that the feeling was the Point). i have read this book four (4) times since i read it first last year. LAST YEAR!!! olivie has like... fundamentally altered my brain chemistry or something because i feel like everything i have written since having read this book has been somewhat influenced by it.
4. much ado about nothing by william shakespeare
what can i say! this is theeeeeee romcom ever. i have watched so many adaptations of this play, read it countless of times and can recite some iconic lines, and still the banter between benedick and beatrice is sooo elite. cannot be topped!!
5. a place for us by fatima farheen mirza
fun fact: seed rec'd this book to me and has been reccing it to anybody who would listen. the prose is so lush and melancholic. it's one of those books where nothing Really happens, but you feel Every Emotion Under The Sun and you're just like. altered by reading it
6. the song of achilles by madeline miller
obviously.... OBVIOUSLYYYYYYY this had to go here. if i had two nickels for every greek myth retelling i read during school that fundamentally changed me etc etc u get it. i read this as a junior in high school when we, yet again, had to bring a personal book to read durin class. i think at that point of my life, i've never read something that tragic yet so beautiful at the same time and now i am always looking at the beautiful and tragic in media. so! there u go! brain cells rewired and whatnot!
7. the grisha trilogy by leigh bardugo
this is funny because i . technically did not rate any of these books 5 stars i'm sobbing. but like, considering the fact that my url is what it is and the way i always have them in the back of my mind, it's no wonder that i put them here. i have such an odd attachment to these books and these characters. i had copies of these books since their release but didn't touch them until ... before the sab tv release which is so fucking funny. like i don't know what i would be like if i read this as a t(w)een. i would've been so fucking insufferable ngl
8. when my brother was an aztec by natalie diaz
i actually read this for an assignment and had to write a report on it and i had SO much fun doing it. diaz plays a lot with hunger and her imagery is literally unmatched. i think about the way she contructs sentences and am filled with such envy. my beginning sentence for my paper was a nod to her style (though i failed miserably). it was: "in a paradoxical sleight of hand, hunger feeds in natalie diaz's debut." she is just. so fucking good at words i need to CHOMP on it
9. sharp objects by gillian flynn
you know the thing where you see a really popular author for a really long time and they have their work adapted to the screen and it's so good but you still haven't read their actual writing? yeah, that was me with gillian flynn (specifically about gone girl). i read gone girl, i read sharp objects, i read her short story the grownup, i'm currently reading the last novel of hers that i haven't read, dark places, and flynn is just so... incredibly good at constructing harrowing stories. it's no wonder why all three of her novels got adapted to the screen! her prose is so grounded. vivid. there's this ease to her writing that, whenever i concurrently read another novel, i always find the other piece to be lacking. i slink back to flynn's prose and immerse myself in her awful, human worlds.
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Fluff Alphabet ⎯ Harry Bingham
Character/Celeb: Harry Bingham
Fandom: The Society
MASTERLIST
Request from anon: Hello! Can I please request fluff alphabet with Harry Bingham please? Thank you 😌
A/N Yes, he’s a dick in the show but he’s hot shut up. Also this headcanon is sorta in-between the whole thing where it’s just the teenagers and then the real world.
A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)
Everyone thinks Harry finds the “standard of beauty” to be the deciding factor (plus status) in who he likes, but deep down he enjoys someone who makes him feel safe.
B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)
He’s never really thought about it and I’m sure even then, he’s not interested in having kids. I’m sure he’s worried about screwing up like his parents did.
C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)
Just laying/sitting beside each other is usually how it goes. But Harry enjoys holding you whenever you spend the night.
D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)
Harry’s a certified show-off, so before the field trip he’s definitely taking you out to expensive restaurants and on joy rides in one of his cars. But after everyone is stuck in New West Ham, your dates are far simpler. Usually just sitting under a tree during free time eating together or watching a movie on his projector at home.
E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))
“You are my... favorite person.”
F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)
He doesn’t like feeling he owes someone something so he honestly doesn’t really realize the feeling of being “indebted” to you was... in fact loving you.
G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)
Despite popular belief, Harry is very gentle. He may be a dick to the whole world but with you, he’s kind and genuine. May it be with his words or how he hugs you.
H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)
I feel like the gif above sort of explains it, he’s rather feel your wrist that your hand because (and don’t tell anyone) Harry has clammy hands all the time. It grosses him out and he’s afraid it does the same to you.
I = Impression (What was their first impression?)
He kind of thinks everyone who isn’t rich isn’t worth his time so honestly? Uh, Harry thought you were boring and not worth his time. Sorry, it’s not cute, I know.
J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)
Yes, Harry is that kid that would hog all of his toys on a play date because they’re his. It’s a little toxic how he reacts to certain situations but I’m sure he’d try to work on it if you asked.
K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)
You initiated the first kiss. Harry a bad kisser when you first meet him, he’s only ever kissed like he’s seen in the movies and everyone who had been with him up until that point never said a word. So when you tell him “hey this kinda sucks”, he’s very confused. But you teach him how to kiss you in a way that works and he’s a quick learner.
L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)
You do, I feel like Harry is scared to trust someone completely so he probably holds back on saying that he loves you. But once you say it, he seems to be more comfortable doing so.
M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)
Junior prom, definitely. It may have been chaotic and technically boring but you made it fun for Harry. You two danced the night away. Maybe Harry loves the memory more now since senior prom was a bust... he doesn’t really know.
N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)
Before the field trip, he would have bought you extravagant gifts and beautiful things. But after? Harry would probably feel ashamed that he couldn’t give you all and more since he’s been taught that material things = how much you love a person. It would be hard for him to unlearn this.
O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)
I think it would be a warm light pink, it’s soft and soothing. It makes him feel safe.
P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)
He’s honestly basic, so things like “babe”, “baby” or an ugly nickname he chose to make you “angry” with. (ex: gremlin)
Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)
Gardening, when he was younger his mother and him would plant flowers together. Harry hasn’t done it in years but he has fond memories of it.
R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)
Watch movies, order takeout. After the field trip it’s pretty much the same minus takeout.
S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)
One word (kind of). A game of fugitive. He is weirdly obsessed with this game, but it brings together his favorite things. Fast cars and telling people what to do. (aka having control)
T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)
Around others, he’s a bit of a meathead with no emotions. But with you he tends to actually open up a bit.
U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)
Long and fast car rides with the hood down. It’s weird how adrenaline helps Harry calm down.
V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)
Literally everything, Harry will always be a rich kid at heart so it’s honestly in his nature to show off when he can. But despite how he acts, he’s not too proud of himself since his parents never really said they were.
W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)
Harry wouldn’t make it over the top (surprisingly), it would probably be during a picnic or a movie and he’d pull out the box like “here” and then ask.
X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)
Indigo Night - Tamino
Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)
Sometimes, but he knows his parents are on the rocks so it makes him nervous.
Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)
I have a sneaking suspicion he’s allergic to like every animal on the planet. But I think he’d get a short hair cat. Probably the standard brown tabby.
#harry bingham#harry bingham x reader#alex fitzalan#the society#the society imagine#harry bingham imagine#the society x reader#fluff alphabet#pew pew pew? more like queue queue queue
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Tristan what if I promoted about Jess noticing Sam avoiding salty foods or his cross necklace leaving faint red marks :)) stuff like that:)) yknow the demon blood affecting him early on
Their first Christmas Jess was flying out on the 23rd, so they did gifts on the 22nd. In Jess’ dorm, because Sam had absolutely no decorations up, and when Jess had asked why he’d just shrugged and said he couldn’t be bothered. But he was happy enough watching her unwrap a set of bracelets that she knew he spent more on than they’d agreed to. But she didn’t call him out, because she had too. See, while he didn’t go to a Sunday service- at least as far as she knew - he liked wearing a cross. It wasn’t a sentimental thing, either, because when the chain had broken and he lost one he wasn’t sad, he just got a new one the very next day. But he kept buying the cheap ones, so he’d had a thin red rash, worst where the cross itself sat, the entire time she’d known him.
Sterling silver was a little bit of a splurge, but it was worth it.
“It’s beautiful,” he said.
“Shouldn’t trigger the nickel allergy either,” she said. He grinned at her, taking off the one he was wearing and replacing it with the new one.
“Thanks, babe,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
She got back after Christmas and he picked her up from the airport in her car. The chain around his neck was the new one, but the rash was still there. She frowned, hurt a little despite herself.
Waited until later in the evening to comment.
“If you like your old one better it’s fine, you don’t have to wear this just ‘cause I got it for you.” She said, lying in bed with her fingers resting on the cross.
“What?” he asked, so genuinely confused she sat up to look at his face.
“The rash,” she said. “You’ve been wearing your old cross.”
“I’ve been wearing this one since you gave it to me,” he said. “I think it’s just not a nickel allergy, I must just have sensitive skin. It doesn’t itch or anything.”
Jess didn’t quite believe him, but she didn’t push. And she only ever saw him wearing the silver cross, and that rash never did go down.
—
Jess always thought she was a healthy eater, but that was before she met Sam. Ate-meat-only-once-or-twice-a week Sam, bought-fruit-on-seven-eleven-snack-runs Sam, got-the-depressing-mcdonald’s-side-salad-instead-of-fries Sam. Didn’t-even-use-the-little-paper-seasoning-sachets-that-came-with-the-depressing-salad Sam. Brady, already grumpy from something that’d happened in his morning biology lab, had already made three snide comments about low sodium diets that Sam had ignored and Jess used as excuse to throw ketchup packets - that at least perked him up a bit.
“It’s not a health thing,” Sam protested eventually. “I just don’t like the taste that much.”
“The taste of salt,” Brady said, drily. “A thing that only exists to make things taste better.”
“You could say the same thing about cilantro and according to you that ruins everything it touches,” Sam pointed out.
Brady shrugged. “If I wanted my burrito to taste like soap, I’d put soap in my burrito.”
Sam sighed, reached over, and stole a few fries off Brady’s tray. Dodged Brady’s attempt to grab him easily and popped them in his mouth.
“Will you shut up now?” he asked, before taking a long swig of his drink.
“Sure, if you stop stealing my fries,” Brady said.
“Great,” Sam said, rolling his jaw like he was trying to scrape an unpleasant sensation off his tongue.
—
Junior year Jess stayed behind for Christmas. Sam was still a little antsy at the prospect of spending a week in her parent’s house, and she didn’t really understand but wasn’t going to push. Instead she decorated their apartment, and forced Sam to make hot chocolate even though it was still pretty warm in Palo Alto.
“Do you think,” he started nervously, “I haven’t been in a long time but- I was thinking of going to Mass on Christmas morning? You don’t have to come.”
“Of course I’ll come,” Jess said.
The closest Catholic to campus was St Thomas Aquinas, complete with spires and stained glass for all it was built of wood. Jess’ family had been baptists, but Sam had promised to lead her through any of the pomp and ceremony she wasn’t used to. Starting with the basin of holy water at the door - she mimicked him as he wet his fingers and did the sign of the cross. There was a slight grimace on his face, and as she put her hand on his back a tension in his spine.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said.
But as the service went on, he just seemed to get worse. The blood drained out of his face, while the ends of his fingers went pink. Fever damp, then starting to sweat bullets. They had to stand and he swayed a little into her; she tried to take some of his weight without it looking too obvious. All the ceremony he’d promised to guide her through he was half-a-step behind on, hazy like he was thinking through a fog. A few times she squeezed his arm, trying to find out if he wanted to leave, but every time he just shook his head.
Finally, the service ended and Jess dragged Sam out past the Priest who was politely wishing people a Merry Christmas and out the door. There was a tremor running through him. And he barely protested the manhandling, just let her pour him in to the passenger seat of her car.
“You should’ve let me get you out earlier if you were feeling this sick,” she said.
He was sitting with his head tipped right back, eyes shut, breathing shallow. “I didn’t feel that bad,” he said.
And maybe it wasn’t the bad, because he’d stopped sweating bullets by the time they got back to the apartment. An hour later his forehead didn’t feel warm, and he’d gotten his colour back. As he improved, though, he only seemed to get more withdrawn. Swapping illness for a shadow in his eyes. As much as Jess tried to get him to talk, he refused.
“Sorry for ruining Christmas,” he said, as they lay on the couch. More into her neck than to her face.
“You didn’t,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
He didn’t answer.
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Writeblr Introduction
Hi hello hey how ya doing! My name is Remington and I'm a new writeblr, I just want to share my stories somewhere other than my friends DMs asfdhakdk
I write mostly fantasy and adventure type stuff, and a lot of the things I write are coping stuffs because we got mental illnes luv x
Other Places To Find Me
my main blog is @rarewubbox (you'll find my carrd there as well if you want more info about me!)
my art blog is @c0ttonberries
my AO3 is ToTheMax
Current Wips Under Da Cut (because this got long)
No Name, Fair Game- a story about a boy named Colt-Lynx who runs away from home, meets a cute girl named DeLaney, and they go riding on a train to escape his old life. DeLaney isn't everything she claims to be, however, but Colt-Lynx doesn't seem to notice. The only people that can tell that something is off is the quartet of strange humanoids that they've acquainted themselves with on the train. Full of Drama, Fantasy, and of course the recommended amount of Gay
LOVE–LOVE- a High School Romance story between tennis players on rival teams. Lee is the charismatic yet forgetful heartthrob, and Cliff is the pessimistic yet caring stuffed animal doctor. When their schools agree to have an after-school program dedicated to preaching good sportsmanship, the teams have no choice but to get together and mingle. Lee and Cliff start to realize that they don't mind each others company, despite being supposed rivals. This is just gay high schoolers in love what else do you want from me
Infamous Weapons 101 [title might change]- This is another high school story about a group of juniors who decide the adults aren't going to do anything about their dangerous school system, which encourages burnout, coming to school sick, and- worst of all- coming to school while there's a serial killer at large. These kids have to put their personal squabbles and family drama aside, because now lies a threat that only they seem to care about dispatching, and they can only do this together. This is planned to become a webcomic to be a social commentary on the American school system and all of its fatal flaws, with a wide variety of humanoid and animal characters. There's angels, demons, furries, zombie dogs, and everything in between!
Chërophobia- Chëro is a doll that came to life after being thrown into a dumpster for the millionth time. He wanders into the forest and meets a ghost, who brings him to the wonderful lightshow of Meinstro and Family's Bright-And-Wild Circus! There, he finds a home and people genuinely worth caring for, who won't chuck him in the trash. The only problem is... he's caught up in the family drama now. It turns out the ringleader of this circus he cares about has to carry her parent's burden and answer for their crimes against other circus families around town. This WIP can be summed up as "if I had a nickel for every time I met a family who ran a slaughterhouse disguised as a circus in the woods, I'd have... three nickels. Which isn't a lot but its horrifying that I've met three of them." Oh yeah did I mention the circus is a slaughterhouse? Thats kind of important. I'm writing this with a good and close friend of mine and we've been working on the story for a good long while now!
I also have a smattering of other fics and ocs so I might post about those later but here's my Main Writings!
No Better Version Of Me; a Henry Stickmin Fanfic- this is the only fic I'm putting up here bc its the only one I'm actively publishing lmao. It takes place after The Revenged ending in Henry Stickmin: Completing the Mission. I'll refrain from spoilers but there's DRAMA, ACTION, and MAYBE ROMANCE BUT NOT A LOT OF IT. I have my own separate blog for this fic here @nbvom
[CURRENTLY UNNAMED]- A boarding school far away from any neighboring society finds themselves in trouble when students and teachers alike start turning up dead on the courtyard. They'd call the police, but the phone lines are cut. They'd e-mail for help, but something is trapping their signal. Three assumed targets of this unknown killer are placed under a rudimentary bodyguard program, so now these rowdy music majors are going to have to coexist with the prim, proper and intimidatingly dark students of their Academia majors. (Everything about this is still under heavy development but I've had this idea for like literal years)
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DT Season 3 Episode Thoughts:
Just a short review of every Season 3 Episode because why not (no spoilers, its just long lol):
Just a short review of every Season 3 Episode because why not:
1
Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks!
Pretty good. Didn’t like it as a season premiere tho, just would have preferred Quack Pack to start season 3. Happy for a Huey centered beginning tho. And set up the journal and FOWL well.
2
Quack Pack!
Great episode. The designs we so good. Loved Huey breaking the 4th wall in Abed fashion. Just really enjoyable. Also side note, this is my favorite Launchpad look in the series. I love him in the pilots hat and on top of that I love the color palette. That goes for everyone else too. Love those bright 90s colors.
3
Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice!
If I had a nickel and every time a Disney cartoon took my favorite character (who has red hair) and gave him a weird James Bond 180 degree character change with a dumb voice and a suit, I’d have 2 nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice (the other one is Bashful from the 7D). I like it because it’s got Launchpad. A lot of Launchpad. And that’s all I’ll say.
4
The Lost Harp of Mervana!
Pretty good. Love when Donald’s around. I liked that the harp moved along the secret Webby plot. A fun episode.
5
Louie's Eleven!
We got Daisy in this episode, which is a major win. This DonDaisy is so so good. For the rest of the ep, I wish Huey had been part of the scheme more. I just like it when my boys are together. It was nice to see the 3 Caballeros even tho I preferred their first episode. Mark Beaks was kinda funny in this episode. Enjoyable, but I seriously missed Huey.
6
Astro B.O.Y.D.!
It made me cry. I don’t think there’s anything else to say. (Seriously an amazing episode. I love Huey, Gyro, Fenton, and Boyd. So fantastic).
7
The Rumble for Ragnarok!
A good episode if I recall. Huey got the animation budget in this episode. The fights were meh but I enjoyed the triplets in this one. Also enjoyed Launchpad knowing a lot about something (other than Darkwing of course).
8
The Phantom and the Sorceress!
Aaaaaand here’s where I stop having a good time. A boring ep after a long hiatus. Magica annoyed me, Gladstone bored me, and I really used to like Webby but I can hardly stand Webby-centered episodes anymore.
9
They Put a Moonlander on the Earth!
I don’t like Penumbra very much and Webby was annoying. I also don’t like seeing LP making a fool of himself (and putting the kiddos at risk in the process). HOWEVER, I like pretty much having confirmation that Penumbra is a lesbian.
10
The Trickening!
Was a let down. Would have been more fun earlier on in the series I think. I also can’t believe LP is THAT dumb. It was painful.
11
The Forbidden Fountain of the Foreverglades!
I really loved seeing Goldie. Such good scroldie content with good kisses. A fun ep with an interesting concept but I had WAY too many questions about how no one was suspicious after tons and tons of college kids go missing over like, many years. Super dark.
12
Let's Get Dangerous!
Absolutely amazing. Best episode of the season by far. One of the best in the show. I just really really love Darkwing Duck and the Mallard/McQuack family brings me incredible joy.
13
Escape from the ImpossiBin!
Solid ep. The ending where everyone is calling Scrooge with what was stolen SLAPPED. Also the rooftop showdown and Donald being just the fucking best.
14
The Split Sword of Swanstantine!
Liked the dynamics of the children. Enjoyed Lena and The Duke and Louie and Violet. Those parts were great. I feel like I didn’t need more Dewey Webby friendship stuff like the others were so much more unpredictable. Still not my favorite episode tho.
15
New Gods on the Block!
Great because it had Daisy. I just wanted DonDaisy content.
16
The First Adventure!
A very cute episode. I just love seeing Donald and Della as kids. A fun episode and I really enjoyed it.
17
The Fight for Castle McDuck!
Boring and a let down. Not nearly as interesting or good as the other episode that took place at Castle McDuck.
18
How Santa Stole Christmas!
I did not care for this one at all. I would have preferred not actually ever knowing more of Scrooge’s hatred towards Santa. I enjoyed the mystery. If anything, I would have preferred the whole family to save Christmas like they did at the end. Also, why is Scrooge such a dick sometimes? Like you think he’s getting better and then gave everyone coal. Like come on, man.
19
Beaks in the Shell!
Not my favorite, but definitely not the worst. I missed Fenton. He and Gandra were pretty cute I guess. Love that Huey content. The best scene was Louie pretending to be Huey. Needed more Gyro. Mark is hella annoying and a shit villain now.
20
The Lost Cargo of Kit Cloudkicker!
Liked Kit. Disliked everything else. Weird Dewey arc. Needed Launchpad.
21
The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck!
Could have been so much better. I feel no sympathy for Magica. Scrooge isn’t blameless for things tho like he was a dick for a long ass time and still has dickish tendencies. I hate Doofus why did the episode have Louie apologizing to him???? Bad! Just a weird episode.
22
The Last Adventure!
TBD but I really hope it’s good. I don’t wanna get my hopes up too high tho.
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Cult Classic
I had a really exhausting week, so I’m going to try to chill out by writing this thing about cults that’s been bouncing around in my head since... oh, like January 6th? For some reason? But it’s also about my insanely long OC fanfic slash vanity project slash concept album. Join me, won’t you?
Okay, so back in... geez 2018? Has it been that long? Around October 2018 I started working out the details for the big climax of the “1000 years ago” section of my fanfic. From the start I had this idea that the Legendary Super Saiyan would be locked into a death struggle with pretty much the entire Saiyan population, led by a Saiyan King who just can’t handle being upstaged. But I had to figure out a lot of details to make that actually work. What I finally ended up with was the Jindan Cult.
Why a cult? Because I wanted my King character to be the main villain, but also be physically weaker, but also he needed to be powerful enough to challenge the heroine. I came up with all these different ways to beef up his power level without making him a Super Saiyan himself, but ultimately I wanted him to have an army of Siayans at his back. That led me to consider some sort of magic elixir that would make them all stronger, but especially the king, since he’s ultimately in this for himself. At first, I considered having him mind-control all of his goons, but I spent the mind control nickel in earlier arcs, and I’ll have to use it again later, because Towa and Demigra use it. Then I thought of drug addiction, which is sort of like mind control but not literal brainwashing or anything like that. And that led me to the cult concept.
One major inspiration for me was the real-life cult called “NXIVM”, which made the news back in 2018 when their leaders started getting arrested, including “Smallville” star Allison Mack. Every time I read about it, it felt like something from a movie, but it was real. I guess the celebrity angle made it more bizarre to me, because it’s sort of like “Hey, this isn’t just some group of randos; someone you’ve heard of is in this thing.” Not that I ever paid much attention to “Smallville”, but you get the idea. She didn’t just join NXIVM, she eventually became one of the top recruiters. Some of the character arcs in my fic were my own attempt to understand how a person goes from Point A to Point B.
The big plot hole, though, in my mind, was that I came up with this whole master plan for the bad guys, but it involved sending wave after wave of Saiyan cultists to die in pointless, unwinnable battles against Luffa. I couldn’t have them win much, because if they beat her, they’d just kill her, and the story would be over. It struck me as fishy that these Saiyans would sign up for a war where the casualty rate is 100%, but I tried to lampshade it as best I could. “Yeah, all those other chumps couldn’t beat Luffa, but I’ll pull it off because I’m special!” It still seemed a bit unlikely.
But then 2020 happened, and I guess the main thing I learned from that year was that people will accept almost anything in order to believe a comfortable lie. The joke I’ve seen on the internet is that we need to retire the expression “avoid it like the plague”, because it turns out a lot of people don’t actually avoid plagues very well at all. The horrifying thing about COVID-19 is how easily people will accept the climbing death tolls. “Oh, well this person was already in bad health, so they would have died eventually anyway.” I don’t want to get too political here, but I’m pretty sure a lot of the anti-mask, coronavirus-is-a-hoax crowd are the same people who made up tall tales about “death panels” in Obamacare. “They’re gonna euthanize your grandma!” they would say, but now they say your grandma is acceptable losses if it means reopening bars and restaurants.
Actually, I do mean to get political, because holy fuck, Qanon stormed the Capitol Building. Look, if you don’t believe Joe Biden won the election, I don’t know what to tell you, except please get far away from me, right now. If you’re not familiar with Qanon, a few years ago some guy on an image board posted a bunch of cryptic messages and claimed to be an important government figure who would know about important things. People started “deciphering” his “clues” and when he stopped posting new ones they started inventing their own “clues” and interpreting them any way that suited them. This led to an overarching narrative that Donald Trump was actually part of this massive sting operation to arrest hundreds, maybe thousands of left-wing politicians, celebrities, and whoever else. Any day now, he was supposed to have Hilary Clinton arrested, and also JFK Junior would somehow show up and help him, even though he’s been dead for 22 years. Every day, these Qanon guys would add on more bizarre lore to their “theories”, and every day none of their predictions would come true. Then Trump lost the election, which put them in a bind, because their whole mythology is based on the idea of him saving the world as POTUS, and now he wasn’t even going to be POTUS for much longer.
I’m pretty sure this had a lot to do with the lies about election fraud. Trump himself refused to accept defeat, and his supporters didn’t want to accept it either, so they all told each other that it wasn’t real, and they believed each other so much that they dug in their heels. But then they’d take this stuff to court and the judge would be like “Uh, what evidence do you have of mass voter fraud?” and they would just be like “lol nvm!” I mean, if there was proof for any of this, why would they not want a judge to see it? But for Qanon, it was more than just being sore losers. They needed all their whackamaroo predictions to come true, and Trump losing re-election would upset the applecart.
So then they started telling themselves that they could win this thing through the boring certification process. I think it was like, December 14 when all the states had to certify their results. So they held out hope that nothing was over until then. Then they pinned their hopes on the Electoral College, and that there would be enough faithless electors to hand Trump the victory, in spite of the voters. I found this one amusing, since I used to see tumblr suggesting the same thing back in 2016, when they were still trying to come up with ways for Bernie Sanders to win.
Then they decided Mike Pence could fix everything, because on Jan 6, Congress would officially count the Electoral Votes and formally declare the winner, and Mike Pence would step in and overrule the whole thing, because the Vice-President oversees that process. Except he just oversees it, he can’t legally change the outcome, especially on a whim. And then the riot at the Capitol happened, and I’m pretty sure all these Qanon types thought it would mark the beginning of a nationwide uprising, with all seventy-odd million Trump voters going apeshit, but it... didn’t work out that way.
Then they convinced themselves that everything was building to January 20, because the innauguration was actually a clever trap, and once Joe Biden took the oath of office, he could then be arrested for treason, so you see, they had to make it look like Trump lost the election, because it was the only way to fool Joe Biden into incriminating himself... or... something. But Jan 20 came and went, so the latest fallback position I heard was that there’s a double-secret REAL inauguration day, and it’s in March, and the January 20 one isn’t legitimate, even though Trump was inaugurated on January 20, 2016, but whatever. That, or the guy we see in the White House now is actually Trump disguised as Joe Biden, or a Joe Biden android or something.
I think I sort of understood that Qanon is a cult, but I didn’t really put the pieces together until the events of January unfolded. Pre-November, it just seemed like a conspiracy theory, without any real timetables or prophecies, like Flat Earth. But once the end of the Trump Administration was in sight, it really started to look like all the doomsday cults I’ve heard about over the years. The predicted events wind up failing to come true, and they invent new predictions to explain away the old ones. It’s not about the veracity of the claims as much as the claims themselves. People want to believe there’s this whole elaborate explanation for everything. They wanted to believe that Trump was this hypercompetent superheroic messiah, because the alternative is to face the uncertain reality: that he had no idea what he was doing, and real people were going to suffer for it.
I think I sort of worked that idea into my fictional cult, but I backed into it. NXIVM was a sex cult, not a doomsday cult, or an elaborate conspiracy theory, so I was mostly fixated on all the depraved things the cult could do to its members. But they all share the same lure: a belief system that promises to make everything fit. I’m not sure what the hook was for NXIVM, but Allison Mack didn’t go in thinking about how much fun sex trafficking would be. That came later, after she was convinced that NXIVM had all the answers, and one of those answers involved sex crimes, apparently. In the same vein, Qanon attempted to explain mass arrests and executions by claiming that Hilary Clinton eats babies or something. “Well, I don’t want babies to get eaten, so I guess breaking into the Capitol building seems like a reasonable course of action.”
Weighed against real life, a bunch of Saiyans accepting a 100% casualty rate doesn’t seem so outrageous. It also helps that sometimes the leaders of these groups can buy into their own hype, and think they’re infallible when they’re really not. This week, I started reading the Darth Plagueis novel again, and I’ve seen the Sith from Star Wars referred to as a cult, but I never gave it a lot of thought until I noticed that Plagueis buys into the whole Dark Side of the Force thing a little too hard. At times, he’ll wax philosophical about how the Jedi are the real bad guys when you think about it, and he’s not just saying that to be manipulative. He honestly believes that the Sith can save the galaxy from decline, which is stupid and hypocritical, because they’re the ones causing all the decline. I always got the impression that Darth Sidious understood that it was all about accumulating power as an end unto itself, and any high-minded talk of necessary evil was just to keep the rubes in line. Rise of Skywalker plays into that idea nicely. He somehow survived Episode VI, but he let the Empire collapse, because if he can’t rule it, he doesn’t want it to exist at all. But he’s still playing himself, because he thinks he can win by following the same failed ideology that got all the previous Sith Lords killed.
That’s pretty much all I have to say about it right now. I need to move on to other topics, because Towa’s not doing a cult thing, so my fic is moving in a different direction. But I feel better for getting this out of my head.
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Pitch: The Adventures of Danger Rabbit- Chapter 2 Friendly Friendly (part 1)
Long story short, my dad wasn't arrested. Ms. Harper made her displeasure quite clear as far as my new form was concerned, but I wasn't taken away. Because of my mistake, dad had a reputation for being a careless father, and I was seen as a delinquent. Teachers started watching our family like we were career criminals, but dad raised me to be a good kid.
Regardless of the truth, I had a reputation that stuck with me as I grew up. Even into my junior year of high school, kids thought I was bad news. It didn't help that I had the worst luck imaginable, unlike Mr. Nickels, who I still had yet to find. Trouble seemed to seek me out. Just the simple act of walking home from school was dangerous enough to warrant fear of chaos. Freak accidents were a norm, and they only fueled the fire when it came to the negative light everyone shined on me. Of course, my dad always had the worst end of the fiascos because he had to deal with the aftermath.
If I had any luck at all, it was spent when I had the fortune of finding my two best friends.
B James was a girl who moved to town after my accident. Her parents were professional magicians, so naturally, I tried to get in good with them. I had hopes of them helping me. It turns out I didn't have to work too hard. BJ was fascinated with my form and impressed with my ability to create my own magic. I told her I didn't mean to transform myself, but I don't think she cared. She wanted to make new spells like her parents, and I suppose she thought I could help her. She overlooked how the rest of the school avoided me, but that might have been easy, considering no one flocked to her lunch table any more than my own. Remember when I said creating new magic was dangerous, well, BJ didn't care. We hadn't even graduated high school yet, but she'd created more spells than a person could count. It's important to keep in mind most of those spells had adverse effects or didn't do what they were meant to, but they did something.
My friend Wesson, a satyr I met in my freshman year of high school, didn't use magic at all. To be fair Fae, because of their natural abilities, didn't need magic as much as humans did. Even I had natural powers after my transformation like super hearing and invisibility. Which I'm sure is how Mr. Nickels managed to avoid capture for so long if he also possessed the same abilities. Wes being a satyr, was super fast and super strong, among other things, whether he appeared to be or not. We became friends after I tried to join the school's Creature club. There weren't many Fae that went to our school, so the club was meant to be a way of letting them all meet one another. Unfortunately, when I tried to join the club, someone pointed out I was born human, and that I was only what I was because I cursed myself. I couldn't join the club. Technically they weren't allowed to exclude anyone, but I thought it best to pick my battles wisely and let it go. Wes, being the best guy in the world, found me the next day and told me he thought the other kids were dicks for not letting me join the club. From that day on, I couldn't remember a time I couldn't fall back on the friendship Wes and I had.
It was two weeks till summer break. All of the ends of the year testing was out of the way, so everyone was waiting for the school year to come to an end. That Friday afternoon, I decided to walk BJ home. Despite my being close to Wes and BJ both, they never seemed to like one another. Every day I'd have to make a conscious decision whether to hang out with BJ, who loved playing magician and getting into trouble, or Wes, who was basically the brother I never had. BJ won that day because Wes had a meeting with the principal.
BJ should have taken the bus home, but I guess that would have been less time she got to work out new magic with me. We took a lot of back roads that day that eventually spit us out into the Dead Woods. It was the town's biggest forest, and it sat in the middle of everything. We learned in history class that old settlers named it the Dead Woods because back in the early days, when people were still coming up with most of the modern magic, they had to go far away from homes and buildings so bad magic wouldn't destroy anything. A lot of people died out there. Despite the bad history, it was a beautiful place as long as you knew where you were going.
"So there's this summer internship I read about," BJ said as we walked under branches while leaves crumbled under our footsteps.
"What kind of internship?" I asked.
We stopped walking so she could take her spell book out of her bag. The pages of her hand made spiral held weight and took time to flip through.
"For magicians. I thought you might want to go for it," she added.
"You want me to be a magician?"
"You created a working transmutation spell when you were 11."
I laughed at her, calling it a "working spell."
"Yea, and I've been trying to undo it ever since," I said with my amused tone still vocal.
"I could help you."
"I don't want to be a magician," I said in my most definitive voice possible.
"But I do."
I took a few steps away. I didn't want to stand too close while her book was out. Some of the stuff in that thing didn't need words to be activated. As she flipped through the pages, there was a danger similar to throwing a grenade into a kid's birthday party. Pages glowed and faded as her hands turned them over. I'm not sure how she managed to carry something around like that without constantly hurting herself.
"Then you should do it," I said as I crossed my arms and leaned against a tree.
She came near, and I knew to expect puppy dog eyes to fluff some kind of catch. That's what people do when they want something
"I need you."
I asked, "why," but she turned away.
"I need your spell," I thought she said, but I couldn't make out her words for sure, and with my big ears, that meant she was really quiet.
"What?" I asked.
"I need your spell."
I stood up straight.
"The spell that gave me fur and left with only eight fingers," I said before I continued with, " the spell that made my feet too big to wear shoes and ears big enough to hear my dad when he gets off at night."
"I have to submit a working spell to be considered."
"Then use one of yours," I said.
"None of mine work."
"What about the one you use to change your hair color?"
"It blinds anyone who sees me cast it."
"Then just use my spell, you don't need me for that, I wrote the words in some book, and I'll give it to you."
I wanted to get off the subject. Anyone who knew me knew how long I tried to find a cure for my curse. After years of turning over stones to no avail, of course, I gave up hope. That's not to say I didn't wish and dream for a way to change back, but being a bit of a pessimist meant I couldn't help but see the uneasy reality of how unlikely a cure was.
"It wouldn't be right to take credit for your work."
"But, it's alright to strong-arm your friend into an internship that'll take up our entire summer?" I didn't mean to sound nearly as argumentative or sarcastic as I must have at that moment, but it came out that way.
"There's a chance we won't even get it," she said, basically pleading with me at that point.
"If I say yes, will you leave me out of whatever experiments you're about to do?"
"But I had something special planned for today."
"That's my price."
"Deal, but you have to stick around to watch."
"In case something goes wrong?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," I replied.
We exchanged a mutual grin before she adjusted her glasses and finally flipped around in her book to find the newly crafted spells. We spent most of the afternoon in the woods. BJ wrote a spell for growing plants faster, but it made anything made of wood burst into flames, including all the papers in my backpack. She tried to put out the fires with another spell meant to create rain clouds, but it summoned a swarm of butterflies that flew into the flames. Needless to say, they all died. They died quickly, but at least the fires went out.
By that time, it was getting dark.
"We should get moving," I said as I picked our bags off the ground burnt as they might have been.
"We will never speak of what happened here to anyone, right?"
"Like always," I said with a chuckle before handing BJ her ruined bag.
We started on our way out of the woods.
"Do your parents know you're applying for this internship?" I asked.
"Not yet."
"Don't you think they should know?"
"I'll tell them once I, " she started to say before I cut her off with, "did you hear that?"
"Hear what," she asked.
There was a sound coming from the bushes ahead of us. It was too big to be a cat, dog, or rabbit.
"Stand back," I said as I put my arm in front of BJ.
"Is someone there," I called out into the distance, but no reply was returned.
Only the rustling of the bushes broke the silence as something or someone came near. It was close. There was a momentary pause of nothing but the bugs around us falling silent, and then whatever it was lunged out at me.
It was Wes. He made me fall backward and rip the arm of my button-down shirt.
"Shit," I yelled out.
He tried to catch my arm on my way down, but he was too slow.
"Sorry, dude," Wes said with a laugh as he helped me to my feet.
"What are you doing out here?" BJ asked in a tone more annoyed than me, but I was the one with the ripped shirt.
"I need Pitch."
"Well, he's walking me home from school."
"Schools been out for 3 hours now, and you know how to get home."
"You want me to walk by myself," BJ asked.
"No one ever offers to walk me home, and we're the same age," Wes said sarcastically.
I cut in, "Wes, what did you need my help with?"
"I need your ears," he said.
"Let me get BJ home, and then I'll swing by your place."
Neither of them was even looking at me anymore; they were staring one another down.
"Alright, just make sure 'Bug Burner' isn't with you."
"You saw that!" BJ exclaimed.
"I'll be there, alone," I said as I held BJ back from Wes.
A few uneasy, and unwelcoming glances were exchanged before we took to our separate ways.
"I don't know why you hang out with him," BJ argued.
"Wes is cool," I said.
"Wes is just short of being a toddler. He doesn't use magic."
"I don't use magic."
"That's different; you can't afford it."
"That hurt," I said.
"You know what I mean."
#anthropomorphic#magic#forest#outdoors#nature#lady bug#satyr character#original character#story#chapter
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If I had a nickle for every time something life-alteringly horrible has happened in the spring of my junior year of any kind of school, I'd have 2 nickels
It's not a lot but it's weird it's happened twice now
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Interviewed by Zoomin’ Night
by Zhu Wenbo and Zhu Songjie 2020/5/18
1．Maybe you could introduce yourself first. How old are you? When did you start playing guitar, and when did you start playing this kind of music? I mean, quiet, with blank and some special skills, beautiful improvisation music.
I was born in 1984. I have been living in Tokyo since I was born.I started playing guitar when I was in junior high school. I don't remember why started.Maybe I wasn't interested in anything else.
Pelktopia that I played with Hironobu Shimazawa is my first carrier to play this kind of music as you say. We had been playing for 2 or 3 years and released some LP, CD-R, and cassettes. This unit played by half composition and half improvisation with Folk, Blues, and Minimalism feeling.We had a common language of music and similar aesthetic sense for sound.So we were able to develop music constructively. I still think the music in this unit was great.Many of my ideas for improvisation were born at this time.
After that, I started to play as a solo player. At the beginning of my solo career, I was playing drone music with many pedals. But I think this was a big failure for me. I was just turning the knob and just fun pedal's effect. It is the best way to fill in time and space. But that’s just it. I got too far away from my roots and physical myself. I felt I had to create the sound more fundamentally in a primitive way. It was around 2015 that I started to have the current style.
2. Before playing this kind of music, what kind of music did you play? What kind of chance made you decide to change at that time?
First. I started playing as an electric guitarist in some bands, I mean something like a Rock'n'Roll guitarist. I guess every guitarist will yearn for it when young. At the same time, I was obsessed with a lot of black music. especially I love Blues like John lee hooker and Son House. I learned what is free for me back then and making space in music from them. I was also absorbed in jazz and copied mainly Wes Montgomery and learn the method by self-taught. But I couldn't play it properly. Also, I felt cramped in the chordal system.
I feel that It was a necessary experience to identify what is important for me. But I eventually stopped playing in band and electric guitar. Because I felt it is difficult to play primitively and genuinely. I felt dishonesty with electric instruments my own. I want to be physically involved in my instrument without any knobs and cables.
Fortunately, I don't get tired of playing acoustic guitar. There are still many discoveries from playing.
3. Maybe you could share some details about guitar. Do you have any special or personal interests on guitar playing? Such as special tuning, microtone, objects on preparing, or some other special playing skill…..
I have been trying many open and irregular tuning. Thereby I can find a new sound and resonance from the guitar. I'm really into my main guitar which is Martin D-28 Authentic 1931. I want to bring out all the possibilities of this guitar.
Sometimes, I try a prepared guitar and some objects. For example, I was rubbing a metal bar on the fret to make overtone and drone on 2527's Track2. But my main focus is playing by fingers of both hands just normally. This is the best way to express subtle elements.
4. Most of your performances are improvisation. What do you think about in improvisation concert? Or maybe the question could be, what do you try to keep the notice on normally in your performance?
I'm thinking about "music" When I play as a solo.I mean like phrase, scale...or Whether I'm doing well what I practiced. especially I am interested in polymodal. I want to combine some scales to connect to song myself or something like a story.
Free or not free, something new or already done in the past. these are not big subjects for me. These are meaningless to think about. Because I feel like a dead-end no matter where I go.
I think it should be democratic when I play with other players, like our social ideals. We have to construct something good through conversation in music. As many say. a really good situation is not to think anything during performance.
5. What kind of music do you listen when you are driving? Last time I took your car, you played Morton Feldman’s piano box. But don’t you think Feldman is too quiet for traffic?
No. I don't think so. My car is very quiet. It's easy to listen to Feldman's music.
6. So maybe you could share us your music taste. What is all-time favorites? Maybe you could give us a top 10 choice. And what do you listen in these days?
This includes music that I don't listen to anymore. But I listened to often.
In order I listened
1「Electric Ladyland」Jimi Hendrix
2「Live at Sugarhill」John Lee Hooker
3「Original Delta Blues」Son House
4「The Complete Live At The Plugged Nickel 1965」Miles Davis
5「Olatunji Concert 」John Coltrane
6 「Riley: The Harp Of New Albion」Terry Riley
7 「In Bern」Loren Mazzacane Connors + Jim O'rouke
8 「Semi-Impressionism」Tetuzi Akiyama + Toshimaru Nakamura
9「For Bunita Marcus by Stephane Ginsburgh」Morton Feldman
10「Dead Pan Smiles」Riuichi Daijo
My recent favorite is below. Some of them are not recent releases.
「Bending Contumax」Jean-Luc Guionnet
Jean-Luc Guionnet is saxophonist and organist.
I didn't know him until recently. this is amazing enormous work by improvisation from 2008 to 2014.
I feel this is very structural in spite of early intention feeling.
Published by No School Recordings run by Masahiko Okura.
「Memoria」Takumi Akaishi
Takumi Akaishi is a Hardy Gurdy player who lives in Tokyo is very unique.
This was made from Hardy Gurdy and field recording with his great poetic sense.
Published by Art Into Life, a Japanese record shop and label in Tochigi prefecture.
「Œuvres Électroniques」 Eliane Radigue
This was bought during my 2019 European Tour in Basel at Plattfon Records.
This is a box of 14CD. You can know her pursuit of sound but need time to listen to everything!!
7. Please tell about Straytone. You told me that you have a long and deep collaborations with him. How many years did you play together? What is the collaboration based on? Compare to other musicians, is there any special meanings of playing with Straytone to you?
We have a different idea about music and playing. Straytone attaches importance to the context in music more than me.I'm gradually becoming less concerned about context. On the other hand. I think He does not attach importance to improvisation more than me. We can complement each other for making music.
8. The cassette remind me of Tetuzi & Toshimaru. Actually at the first time I saw your performance I found out Tetuzi’s influence. And for Straytone’s sound, I have to say, it is very closed to Toshi’s nowadays sound, though they use different instruments. I think in this cassette, Straytone’s sound does not sounds like most modular synthesizer musicians. So how do you think about Tetuzi & Toshimaru? Do you try to reference, borrow or avoid some idea from this classical Japanese duo?
I think that Tetuzi Akiyama and Toshimaru Nakamura are The most important improviser.「Semi-Impressionism」is the earliest music I've ever heard of improvisation music that's not jazz.
This is my opinion on them. In particular, I was directly influenced by Tetuzi Akiyama as guitarist. His greatness is flipped over the concept of all avant-garde. It's like a dadaist but more based on his intuition and honesty.
Toshimaru Nakamura is a very important person culturally of electronics improvisation scene. But he does not hesitate to break the culture himself and constantly update himself. He seems to be challenging himself at every concert without any attention to appearance.
They play universal language and techniques in spite of based on very personal interest without systematized academic methods. They paved the way by this attitude especially for players without musical education or career. There have been groups with similar concepts in the past like AMM or Musica Elettronica Viva. But they are based on more western values or academism.
In the past, if we want to play with someone we had to learn the methods and languages that are already. Like Jazz, Classic also Rock music. Maybe It's also included "Free Improvisation". But They proved that we could play using each personal interests, techniques, and ideas without systematized academic methods or languages.
It doesn’t mean there is no need to learn or practice.
We got an environment that we can pursue what we feel really important to us individually. At the same time, we can communicate in music in any country, musical background, and culture. We can express each identity and exchange ideas in the music directly.
9. The cassette title is 2527. What did the name come from?
It is a secret.
10. Please also tell us about Permian, the venue you run. Could you describe it? How is the neighborhood and how does it looks inside? When did you start running this place? Why do you want to run a “only improvisation” venue? Sorry that I have never been to Permian before, next time I will, I promise!
Permian started in 2018. Running by me,Riuichi Daijo and some musicians. We often talked about almost venues have a lot of superfluous things for the concert. like bar counter, records, and BGM. We don't provide any drink, food, and BGM to concentrate on the concert and playing. An audience can choose admission fees between 1,000 to 3,000yen of every concert. By this, the audience can determine the value of the concert with independence.
There are many cafes and bars nearby. But finding an improvisational audience is difficult.
Improvisation is primordial practice and starting point of all expressions. It is should be open to more people. I hope that we always try to re-grab music from zero by each concert.
11. If you have to choose 3 favorite improvisation musicians, who will it be?
Tetuzi Akiyama
John Tilbury
John Coltrane
12. In the description I found about your album "R, R, R", it was mentioned that some of your guitar playing has the feeling of John Fahey. Do you agree with this statement? Has John Fahey's music influenced your listening and playing?
Of course, I listened to a lot of albums of John Fahey. But I’ve almost never copied his guitar. I am strongly influenced by what is called American Primitive, just like him. But I think I'm not the same lineage or context as him. I have big respect for traditional music but maybe I'm not interested in inheriting. It's not my role.
As I said, I copied a lot of guitar from the 60's Rock group, Blues and Jazz music when I played electric guitar. But my acoustic guitar style is Almost self-taught.I've almost never copied someone's play except some Blues. Sometimes, I try to copy Morton Feldman's piano piece by guitar.
13. Are you more focused or relaxed when you play? Do you think there is a big gap between your performance and recording? In which state(relaxed or focused) do you prefer when making music?
To be honest, I want to relax and play. If I try to concentrate, the feeling runs away.
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Band of Brothers fluff alphabet: Joe Toye
A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)
Walking into camp Toccoa had been terrifying for you, not that you would let it show. Having gone through basic training you knew better than to show your ‘girly’ emotions around the guys. That being said having every single set of eyes on you as you walked through camp was nerve-wracking. Most of the men stared at you, some whistled, but most of them left you alone.
You didn’t really have a problem with any of the men until you were out at a local bar one night enjoying your weekend pass. Cobb had seemed like an okay guy, a bit cynical and bitter at times but your interactions had been limited. He approached you, spilling some of the beer in his mug as he invaded your space. Clearly, he had overindulged, and his comments towards you went from inappropriate to near threatening as you denied his advances. Turning to leave you were yanked backward, your lower back slamming into the table behind you. At this point some of the men around you had taken notice, some looking like they wanted to step in, but also not wanting to add to the building tension. You felt your face flush, you broke Cobbs hold on his arm and he stumbled a bit.
As you turned to leave you hear Cobb sputter “Hey bitch”,
You turned on your heel and instead of throwing a punch at Cobb you were surprised to see Toye, Joe Toye if your memory serves you correct, with Cobbs collar in his fist muttering a quiet threat to Cobb to ‘leave the lady the fuck alone’. Behind Toye you could see Guarnere, Randleman, and even Lipton looking ready to back him up should the need arise.
Cobb backed down and stumbled back to his seat on the other end of the bar. Toye turned towards you, hand extended as he introduced himself. The boys ended up inviting you to their table while sitting you leaned closer to Toye,
“I appreciate the sentiment and all, but I could have handled that myself” Joe gave a gruff laugh,
“You flatter yourself too much sweetheart, I stepped in for his protection, not yours”, that got a laugh out of you. You and Joe got on pretty well after that.
B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)
Joe had dropped out of high school in his junior year to work in the mines to help support his family. He had been raised to put family first and should he ever get married or have kids their wellbeing would be his first priority.
After losing his leg and spending about 9 months in hospital he is at a loss as to what he can do for work. Before the war, he had worked in the mines and mills but without his right leg, those were no longer options. He wrote to you and in his own ‘tough guy’ kind of way expressed that he felt lost. He did eventually find work as a drill bit grinder at one of the mines in Reading, Pennsylvania.
When the war was over, and you had been shipped back home you decided to visit Toye. You two had always had an easy friendship, so coming to visit felt pretty natural for both of you. A one week visit extended to several, to you eventually moving into his guest bedroom, to said guest bedroom being made into an impromptu nursery.
Your pregnancy hadn’t been planned, but you and Joe took it in stride. Your friendship had always been an easy one, and when you two sat down to talk about things it became apparent that you both had been harboring ‘deeper’ feelings for each other.
You were a champ through the delivery because that child was by no means small. A hearty little thing that was a perfect mix of you and Joe, just having them in your arms made up for the 21 hours of labour you just went through, not that you would tell Joe that. Him doting on you had been kind of nice, and you were going to milk it for as long as possible.
C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)
You will usually fall asleep close together, and wake up your back to Joe’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)
Joe is a pretty simple guy, beer and pizza. You also happen to like those things so you two often just order in and hang out. When his leg isn’t acting up you two sometimes go down to one of the local bars. If it’s a particularly good night Joe will even dance to a slow song or two with you.
E = Everything (You are my __ (e.g. my life, my world…))
“You are the toughest little thing I have ever met, y’know that?”
F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)
You and Joe had talked about ‘feelings’ and what not when you first found out you were pregnant. While you both knew you loved the other the words hadn’t been said yet. Truthfully, they hadn’t felt right until Joe saw you with a hand on your lower back, gently scolding the child within you for “kicking my damn bladder again”. Joe wasn’t a super touchy-feely guy, but for whatever reason, he just blurted the words out. It was kind of funny as you looked up at him, he blinked owlishly at you as if shocked by his own admission. You just grinned and waddled over, raising on your tip toes you place a gentle kiss to his mouth, “Love you too. Do you think we can get pizza for tonight? I really want olives”.
G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)
Don’t get me wrong Joe can be very gentle, but that doesn’t mean you always want him to be gentle.
H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)
Again Joe is not super touchy-feely, but when the mood strikes him he has no problem taking your hand in his larger one.
I = Impression (What was their first impression?)
He had seen you around Toccoa, and he had heard enough about you from the men to feel familiar enough with you. Prior to the ‘Cobb’ incident, you two hadn’t really crossed paths. What he remembers clear as day was how you were definitely going to lay Cobb out on his ass if he didn’t step in. Not that the guy didn’t deserve it. After talking with you that night he realized that you were quite funny and would totally take a guy down should the mood strike you. What can he say, he liked you.
J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)
Joe can get jealous, it happens more now that you two are officially together than it did before. Sure while overseas he would get annoyed with the way men would look at you, flirt with you, touch you, breath in your general vicinity, but hey you were just friends so he kept his feelings in check. But now that you are together he gets to pull out that ‘back the fuck off’ look that he does so well.
K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)
You honestly don’t remember. You two had been bickering about whether pineapple had a place on pizza and somehow your mouths ended up together.
L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)
Joe did. You had been standing in the kitchen muttering to your acrobat of an unborn child when Joe just blurted it out. It had been sweet, and so uniquely Joe that it was kind of hilarious. (Also you did get that pizza you asked for)
M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)
The first day you came to visit after the war had been pretty great. You two didn’t realize how much you had missed each other until you were in the same room. You two had stayed up late that night, drinking beers and just catching up. Joe also ‘forced’ the photos of Guarnere’s various kids upon you. What the hell else was he going to do with all those photos anyway?
N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)
Pizza is kind of your thing. You two aren’t particularly materialistic, so it’s the simple things that keep you two happy.
O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)
Red. You are fiery, funny, and a total badass (beast in bed).
P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)
Sweetheart (not in a sappy way, but like totally Joe if that makes sense?!)
Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)
He has an old watch that his dad gave to him. The watch face is cracked and the battery died long ago, but it came from family so it means something.
R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)
Joe’s leg acts up when it rains, “something about the pressure systems or some shit” as he likes to say. So you two usually stay in, sometimes playing cards.
S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)
Joe (tough guy) doesn’t get sad, his head just gets cloudy sometimes. Pizza and beer usually fix it, until baby Toye comes along. Joe likes to have ‘conversations’ with your babbling baby, it literally keeps them entertained for hours.
T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)
Day to day life stuff mostly, “Have you seen the remote?”, “Why is our child covered in peanut butter?”, “Have you seen my watch?”. You know. Normal things.
U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)
Joe will never admit it, but he loves napping with the baby. He will never admit to needing the naps though, always some excuse “The kid was already asleep. Seemed like a crime to get up and disturb ‘em”.
V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)
Again Joe isn’t very materialistic, or showy. He is just happy to have the things he does, (You, baby Toye, a reasonable distance between the Guarnere clan and your home)
W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)
The topic of marriage comes up occasionally, but you and Joe never really felt the urgency some other couples have. It wasn’t until baby Toye had tuned into ‘full on tiny human Toye’ that the conversation comes up seriously. Mostly because you kid straight up asked “Why don’t you just ask mom to marry you already?”.
You guys had a small ceremony, your families and friends came to the reception afterward. Guarnere full on cackled when he found out how you two ‘got’ engaged, he then promptly high fived your child.
X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)
Guest Room- Echos
Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)
You two had tossed the idea around, it wasn’t until your child literally scolded you that you two got your act together.
Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)
Joe had a clear dog or nothing rule. Until your child came home with this mangy cat that they were clearly in love with…It took Joe about two days to come around, but he most definitely did not fall asleep with the cat on his chest. No, that never happened.
#band of brothers#band of brother fluff alphabet#joe toye#joe toye x reader#easy company#band of brothers x reader
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saving nickels, saving dimes, 6.4K
-
Sidney’s been waking up with the sun for the past few days now.
His phone, clutched in his hand, flashes two texts from Geno, and one from Thomas.
I had a great time yesterday, Thomas’ text says. I’d love to take you out again. There’s a burger place downtown and I think you’d love it.
Sidney doesn’t say he’s pretty much been to every restaurant Cole Harbour has to offer. It’s not the biggest town. And perhaps Sidney should feel a little wary about dating in his hometown, but no one’s spared him and Thomas a second look.
He doesn’t look at Geno’s texts. It’s probably another photo of him on the beach with that girl, and he doesn’t really want to know more than he has to.
Maybe he’s a little selfish. Maybe he’s being irrationally ridiculous. Geno just wants to share his happiness, and as a good friend, Sidney should respond.
It should be okay to be selfish for once. Flower’s always said he’s spent too long caring after his team and not enough after himself.
That sounds great, he sends back to Thomas instead. What time?
-
“Thomas?” Taylor says, her mouth full of corn flakes stolen from Sidney’s cabinets. “You’re dating a guy named Thomas? Like the train?”
“What? No. Like the person. It’s a normal name.”
Taylor leans in. “Is he Russian?” she says lowly, like they’re sharing a secret.
“No, Thomas isn’t a Russian name. Or. I don’t think so? What does that have to do with anything?
She sits back, puzzled. “What happened to the last guy?” she asks instead. “What was his name?”
“Richard. And we only went out for drinks once. Turns he was just into hockey and not. You know.”
“Into you,” Taylor clarifies.
“Sure,” Sidney says. “I wish you’d stop eating my cereal, you literally run through the whole box in two days.”
“Use your NHL money to buy more,” Taylor says. “But seriously? Richard? Maybe the next guy you’ll date will be named Harry, and then you’ll have dated every Tom, Dick, and Harry in this town.”
“You’re not funny.” Sidney sits down, snatching the box back.
“Okay, Heartbreaker,” Taylor says. “My roommate has a brother named Harry. Harry Portman. You want me to get his number?”
“Please don’t,” Sidney says. “I don’t want you to wingman me.”
“I just don’t want you to turn into a hermit.”
“I go outside,” Sidney argues. “I went fishing yesterday.”
“You fish every day,” Taylor throws back. “And I saw you. You were just sitting on the docks watching the sunset.”
“People do that!”
“Yeah, our great-aunt, maybe. But she’s like, 90,” Taylor pauses, turning her attention on Sidney’s flashing phone. “Who’s that?”
Sidney barely glances down. “Geno.”
“He’s been texting you a lot.”
“Yeah, every day,” Sidney replies absently.
She raises an eyebrow. “I think he misses you,” she says carefully.
“He doesn’t. They’re all just photos of him with some girl that he met a month ago. They went to Florida for vacation, and I think he said they’re going to go to Russia in the next couple of days.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sidney snaps. At Taylor’s stricken expression, he looks away. “Sorry. I just—I mean, it doesn’t really matter what he does. It doesn’t affect me.”
Taylor’s quiet for a while.
“Hey, Sid, I won’t eat your cereal anymore,” she says gently, like a peace offering.
“No, no, it’s okay, I can buy more, I was just messing with you,” Sidney says quickly. “I like it when you come over.”
She knows exactly how Sidney feels towards Geno, despite Sidney never saying it aloud. It’d sound dumb, anyways. ‘I love a man who can’t love me back, and every day I hope that a miracle will happen and I’ll finally be happy,’ sounds like the plot of those 21st century romantic dramas that keep coming out every summer. Taylor and Sidney both avoid them like the plague.
He doesn’t know whether to be annoyed at himself for being so transparent, irritated at Taylor for being observant, or thankful that there’s someone close to him who understands just how lonely he is without him having to admit it.
“I know,” she says, and dumps the rest of the box into her bowl, corn flake dust and all. “I got you, Squid.”
It’s definitely the last one, Sidney decides.
“How’d you meet Thomas, anyways?”
“Well. It was at the grocery store. I was buying that cereal, actually,” Sidney starts, and Taylor chokes out a laugh.
-
“Where you go, Sid?” Geno asks, after barely pulling back from their hug.
They’re the last ones in the locker room, the rest of the team having already dispersed with their families after the loss. Sidney’s too exhausted to process the game, too numb for the reality of losing their grasp at the Cup yet again to beat himself up over it properly. Geno’s hand, big and reassuring, is still on his bicep, like he’s keeping him grounded.
“I’m going home,” Sidney says, confused.
“No, mean for summer.”
“Oh.” Sidney hasn’t thought about that yet. “I might go back to Cole Harbour.”
“Again?” Geno teases. “Home not vacation.”
“I think I need some time by myself. It’s been a rough year,” Sidney admits, but when he sees Geno’s gaze soften, turn sympathetic, he quickly changes the topic. He can’t deal with this, not right now. “You going back to Russia?”
“Maybe after,” Geno says. “Florida nice right now. Always nice.”
“You don’t change it up either,” Sidney huffs.
“You should join,” Geno says. “Go to beach, have fun, I’m take you out. Maybe you even meet special person, she spend summer together so you not stay in Cole Harbour alone again—”
Sidney pulls away abruptly. He doesn’t exactly avoid Geno’s eyes when he answers him, trying for a smile and praying Geno doesn’t notice.
“I’ll text you,” Sidney says, patting Geno’s arm. “Enjoy your summer, G.”
“Sid, wait—”
-
“You have the greatest laugh,” Thomas tells him one day, after Sidney had demolished his burger and is steadily working his way through the Oreo shake. “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone laugh like that.”
“It’s because I have an ugly laugh,” Sidney says wryly. “I sound like a goose.”
“Geese are cute. From far away,” Thomas says. “It’s cute.”
He likes the way Thomas talks, measured and never too loud. Listening to him talk about his day at work at the university as a professor reminds Sidney a little of sitting on the docks and watching the sun set, slowly but surely. He likes the way he moves his hands when he talks, likes how tall he is so that Sidney has to look up to kiss him.
(Sometimes Geno speaks too quickly, when he wants to get a thought across, and he’s never afraid to shout across the table at their team outing in some bar to playfully heckle a rookie.)
Thomas’ voice, Sidney thinks, that he’d like to come home to. Anyone would like to come home to something like that.
But it doesn’t make his heart race, not the way Geno’s excited yelps of ‘Sid’ does when he scores a goal. Or the way he looks at Sidney during their last Cup party, years ago, bright and adoring like he almost can’t contain it as he drags Sidney down into the pool with him.
Sidney wonders if there’s maybe something the matter with himself.
-
Thomas kisses him goodnight at the door, a peck on the cheek that leaves Sidney’s skin burning.
“Wait,” Sidney says, pulling him back by his wrist. “Don’t you want to come in?”
“Do you want me to?”
Sidney doesn’t date—it’s not like that there’s lots of opportunities in Pittsburgh (or Nova Scotia, for that matter), where almost everyone knows his face, and he can barely remember the last time he’s really been kissed—a real, heart-fluttering, all-consuming kiss that makes Sidney’s knees weak.
He’d always assumed love would make him heartsick like it does with Geno, like when Geno sits just a little too close at breakfast time in the nook, or when he holds Sidney just a smidge tighter than he does with Tanger during their celly, and he slips into yet another daydream. Dreams about a Geno who could care for him just as deeply and desperately as Sidney does, who doesn’t mind sharing Sidney’s quiet and secluded corner of the world—the docks, the lake, the summer house in Cole Harbour—that’s basically as much a physical extension of Sidney’s heart as can be.
(He’s always come to the conclusion that Geno would hate it. It’s too quiet. Too dull. The waves on the lake are still and not like the waves Geno raves about in Miami. There’s nothing Sidney can give to Geno that he doesn’t already have except for himself, but Geno doesn’t want that. It breaks Sidney’s heart more than he had expected it to.)
“I don’t know,” Sidney says honestly. He feels awful.
Thomas cups Sidney’s cheek, smiling. “It’s okay,” he says. “Maybe next time, yeah?”
He feels pathetic. “I don’t want you to go.”
It’s the truth. He doesn’t want to be alone.
“Want to watch a movie?” Thomas suggests.
An hour later, when Thomas lays Sidney back on the couch, pulling off his own shirt, Sidney’s phone flashes bright with a notification where he left it on the counter.
It’s Geno, Sidney thinks. It’s always Geno.
“Have you done this before?” Thomas asks, trailing kisses down Sidney’s inner thigh.
“I—” He resists the urge to shut his legs, push himself back, and hide away. He’s only kissed a boy once, a drunken, two second peck in juniors that to this day, neither he nor the guy has brought the incident up again. And in a foolish, hopeful section of his heart, Sidney’s always imagined Geno to be the one between his legs, nibbling on his neck and belly and thighs all while murmuring sweet phrases to him languages Sidney can’t understand, loving him, right here in his Cole Harbour living room. “What does it matter?”
Thomas studies him, his expression unreadable.
“It doesn’t,” he says finally. “I just wanted to know what you liked.”
“I’d like it if you took your pants off,” Sidney says, feeling bold.
Thomas’ eyes turn dark, and Sidney know he must’ve said the right thing.
It’s only when Thomas goes to the bathroom to grab a towel and Sidney laying there, boneless and wrung out, that he realizes that he’s missed a sunset for the first time since coming back from Pittsburgh.
-
Geno always wants to call.
Always wants to share about his time at the zoo petting the penguin chicks, or dancing the night away in a club in France, or brunch in Switzerland with the massive group of Russians who all seem to know each other on a nickname basis.
“What you do so far?” Geno asks, his voice through the phone sounding tinny and just as far away as he actually is.
“Not much. Went fishing, trained, had dinner with Nate. Taylor’s coming over in a bit, and I’m prepping the beef stew our mom makes that she likes,” Sidney says, leaning the phone against his shoulder so he can fiddle with the tomato he’s trying to slice. “Tell me more about your trip. You went swimming with a shark?”
“Whale shark,” Geno says, then quickly changes the topic. “But want to hear about your day. You having fun at home?”
“So much,” Sidney says dryly. “It’s not swimming with sharks fun, but…”
Geno makes a noncommittal noise, like he’s brushing the matter off like it’s not as impressive as it sounds. “Maybe meet a nice Canadian girl finally?”
Geno’s tone is teasing, but it strikes something in Sidney that he can’t name. Something between bitter envy and disappointment in himself for crushing on someone who’d never love him and maybe even annoyance at Geno’s insistence to fix his loneliness by pushing onto him this faceless woman who is supposed to magically undo years of pining and heartache by her mere presence.
So he hears himself say, “No, no girls. I met a nice boy, though.”
Geno is quiet on the other end of the line, so Sidney pushes on, half-rambling. “We went to get burgers and a shake. It was really good, he was funny. Really sweet. He drove me back to my house and everything. He texted me if I wanted a third date and I think I might go.”
For ten terrible seconds, Geno says nothing.
“Geno?” Sidney whispers. “Geno, are you still there?”
“Yes,” Geno says, like the air has been punched out of him, but recovers so quickly that Sidney thinks he might’ve hallucinated it. “So glad you happy, find someone nice so not spend summer alone again.”
“Yeah,” Sidney says. Geno’s nothing but supportive, but somehow, in some warped level of Sidney’s understanding, it’s still, quite simply, a reminder of how Geno can’t love him the way Sidney wants him to. Doesn’t think about waking up next to Sidney and placing kiss after kiss on sleep-softened cheeks to wake him up like Sidney had often dreamed himself. Can’t be happy with Sidney the same way Sidney is when he’s around Geno, and isn’t that such a shame? “I guess so.”
“Tell me about him,” Geno demands suddenly. “What he look like? He play hockey? He nice to you?”
“Maybe next time,” Sidney lies, turning to his empty Le Creuset, sitting on the stove. “Look, I have to go, my stew’s going to boil over.”
There’ll never be a next time, not if he can help it.
-
Taylor’s lounging on the armchair, crunching on a bowl of chips, when she gestures at the TV, as Meg Ryan meets Tom Hanks for the first time on top of the Empire State Building.
“I think growing up with movies like this ruined me,” she says, as the instrumentals swell and Meg takes Tom’s hand. “You think when you’re an adult that falling in love with someone is going to be like this, but it’s just a bunch of people asking if you’ve hooked up with the guy and then telling you who they know who also hooked up with him, like it’s a competition. It’s kind of depressing.”
Sidney’s half-paying attention to the screen as he taps through his Snapchat feed. “Huh?”
“I’m just saying that sending someone a thirst DM is different from wooing them with roses and handwritten letters.”
Sidney frowns. “Who sent you a thirst DM?”
“No one,” Taylor says. “Hey, you know what it means? I’m impressed.”
“I’m 30, not dead.” He folds his arms, staring. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She waves her hand. “Does Thomas send you thirst DMs?”
“I’m not talking about that with you.”
“He does. See? Romance is dead. Also yeah, you’re right, I don’t want to know.” She stretches luxuriously in her seat, getting comfortable. “Geno texting you?”
“I have other friends, you know,” Sidney says.
“Yeah, me.”
“You’re not my friend,” he throws back.
“You’re right,” Taylor snickers. “You’re my mom.”
Sidney stops tapping as the screen switches to Geno’s story—the first one is of him standing next to a ridiculously long baguette, pointing at it for some reason. The next is him surrounded by roses at a flower shop, pink, red, and yellows blending into a sea of petals. Pretty! the captions says.
But Sidney’s already seen that one—Geno had sent that particular photo to him personally.
He wishes Geno would stop. He doesn’t know what else to say besides a thumbs up emoji or a ‘Nice! Looks like fun’ that sounds hollow even to himself.
So he just doesn’t respond at all anymore.
-
A package from France is waiting for him when Sidney gets back from his run.
Really good! Take you there next time, the scribbled note, sitting on top of the shreds of packaging and the wine, reads. Chocolates, too. Only milk chocolate, know you not like dark.
Sidney puts both in the back of his cabinet, still empty save for a couple of chicken noodle soup cans and extra, unopened cereal boxes.
If he collects more things, he wonders, will Cole Harbour feel more like a home?
-
Thomas is snoring next to him, one arm draped over Sidney’s stomach, when the phone buzzes next to Sidney’s cheek.
“‘ello?” he mutters.
“Hi, Sid,” Geno says. It sounds like there’s commotion wherever he is, a woman speaking and laughing floating in intermittently. “I wake you up?”
“Geno, it’s…” He stares blearily at the digital numbers glowing by the bed. “…2:14 in the morning.”
“Fuck, I get time wrong, I’m think it’s only 11—”
“What is it, G?” he cuts in, then rubs his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Is nothing, just want to hear your voice,” Geno says apologetically. “Is weird, not have to see you at 6 AM at rink every day.”
“What, you miss me or something?” Sidney says, laughing softly.
“Yes,” Geno says easily, taking Sidney’s breath away like he’s commenting on the weather. “Miss you. Every day.”
That was one of the first things Sidney fell in love with, the uncomplicated way Geno dealt with the world. If Geno sees crème brulee on the menu, he orders it. If he sees a pretty girl he likes, he asks if she’d like to dance. If he knows Sidney is having a bad day, he drives over with donuts from Sidney’s favorite guilty pleasure bakery and talks about his family until Sidney forgets why he was frustrated in the first place. If he loves someone, he loves them with his whole heart that it’s almost palpable. It makes Sidney fantasize of such impossible things that he often tricks himself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, if he waits long enough, today will be different.
“You seem to be having a great time without me.”
“Yes, is fun,” he replies. “But think would be more fun with you. See cheesecake yesterday, think, Sidney would love, is his favorite, so I take picture. Is why I send photos, but you stop respond.”
He can’t tell Geno that he’d thought the photos were Geno’s way of chirping Sidney for being a summer shut-in. Can’t tell him that he knows those photos must be documenting Geno’s dates, and who’s on the other side of the camera, out of frame, and how dreadfully empty it makes him feel, without sounding like a jealous, self-centered creep.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t know.”
“Is okay, just call to make sure you not die alone in little Canadian cabin,” he says, and Sidney could hear that crooked smile in that tone.
“It’s not a cabin, it’s a real house—”
“Sid?” Thomas murmurs, squinting awake. Sidney nearly jolts off the mattress. “Wha’s happening? Is morning?”
“No, it’s still early, I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand over the speaker. “I should’ve taken this outside—”
“Who’s that?” Geno asks. His voice sounds brittle, but it might just be the connection. “Is that—”
“Hey, listen, I’ll call you back,” Sidney say quickly, turning to his side. “And happy early birthday. It’s coming soon, isn’t it? A week? No, two.”
“Yeah, you remember,” Geno says faintly.
“Of course I remember, it’s important. Circled it on my calendar and everything,” Sidney says.
That gets Geno to laugh. “You not just save on phone? Like old man, Sid.”
“I like writing things down, helps me remember.” Sidney pulls the covers up, settling back down. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Geno says. “Good night, Sid.”
There’s a photo of a cheesecake in their chat the next day, dotted with chocolate chips and piped to perfection with vanilla bean crème.
Wish I was there, Sidney types back.
Bring some back for you, Geno writes immediately, even though it must be in the middle of the night for him.
-
Three days later, a non-descript box is sitting innocuously on his front step. An irrational side of him hopes it’s the cheesecake.
It’s not, though.
See store in Switzerland sell good luck stuff animal. Pens colors! the postcard reads, each letter rounded with Geno’s blocky handwriting. Magic bear win us every game next season.
The teddy bear’s eyes flash at Sidney, its fur clean and brushed with a gold and black bow tied handsomely around its neck. Sidney closes his eyes briefly and allows himself to pretend for a moment that it there might be something really magic about the bear, just like Geno had said.
He sends a photo of the bear, propped up against the window with the sunset and the lake as a backdrop.
He loves his new home, he writes. What should I name him?
Zhenya, Geno’s text says.
What does that mean?
)))) tell you when I see u
-
Thomas throws in the towel two days after Zhenya the bear arrives, so maybe it’s not such a magic bear after all.
“I’m sorry, Squid,” Taylor says, when Sidney breaks the news to her. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t think Thomas was Prince Charming or anything. And I didn’t want to tell you this before, but Mom also didn’t think too much of him after he only ate like one slice of her peach cobbler.”
“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” Sidney says, then reconsiders. “I am a little pissed. He could’ve told me he was planning on moving to New York from the start.”
Cole Harbour had never been long-term for Thomas, career-wise, which made sense now that Sidney really sits down to think about it. And yeah, Sidney’s the same way—by the end of the summer, he has to go back to Pittsburgh, but maybe a small part of him was working up the courage to ask Thomas to move with him, because that was just what people he knew did. He’s heard of rookies, freshly drafted, having their girlfriends of three weeks moving in with them, and he’s always felt a kind of inadequacy about himself.
It’s passed his mind one too many times that he’s not worth loving. He’s too strange, too awkward, too one-track minded on a career that can’t last his whole life, not enough. Sometimes he loathes sitting at team dinners and listening to his teammates talk about their girlfriends or wives or wives-to-be and babies. What used to be ‘that’ll be me someday’ has long ago morphed into ‘it’s never going to happen, you have to learn how to be happy with yourself’ along with his excuses of early morning training to get out of meeting Geno’s new girl, or being dragged to a rookie outing with their girlfriends.
He had just gotten used to coming home and seeing Thomas’ coat draped on the couch, his books scattered on the kitchen counter. He’d entertained the thought of having someone to bring to family skate and of coming home into someone’s arms after a crushing loss, and of finally forgetting his stupid hope that Geno could see him the way he wanted to be seen, that he’d just gone ahead by himself and planned everything out with the assumption that he could learn to fall in love later.
Maybe after so many years, he only wanted someone—anyone, really—on his arm to show Geno so Geno can stop looking at him with barely-concealed sympathy.
(Poor Sidney, is what Geno must think. Poor, poor, lonely Sidney. Unloved, unwanted. What a shame it is, to be the best player in his generation but still be no one at the same time.
“I’m happy by myself,” he’d said once, and he’d been in a good mood then, and it’d almost felt true.
But when Geno had given him that expression, like he knows Sidney’s lying, it’d made him furious and devastated all at once. He’d been sick of pining silently and he’d though that was bad enough, but being pitied by that very same person is so, so much worse.
He can’t imagine what Geno would say to him if he knew how long and how much Sidney has loved him.)
So no matter how he cuts it, it’s his own fault through and through.
He didn’t cry when Thomas told him he was leaving. But everything about the living room looks like it’s missing half of someone, and the emptiness of his own house that he’d never noticed before seems more visceral than anything else at this very moment. And losing Thomas somehow makes it feel like he’s failed somehow. Failed to make another person happy. Failed to make himself happy.
“Whirlpool romance,” Taylor says. “No. It’s whirlwind. My bad.”
“More like a hot tub on low batteries romance,” Sidney says. “I don’t think it would’ve gone anywhere even if he stayed.”
“Do hot tubs run on batteries?” Taylor asks.
“Hot tubs for ants.” He sighs. “Hey, if I’m alone for the rest of my life, you’ll still visit, right?”
“Of course,” Taylor says. “You can live in my basement. I won’t even make you pay rent.” She hums as she sneaks a glance at Sidney, studying him. “You don’t have to tell me this, but. Did you love Thomas?”
“I don’t know,” Sidney says. He doesn’t know a lot of things lately.
When Geno calls him that night, Sidney doesn’t pick up.
He doesn’t pick up the next morning, the next night, or the night after that.
-
There’s about fifteen unread texts and five missed calls on his phone by the time Sidney falls asleep to Meg Ryan on TV sniffling, “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.”
-
Geno’s birthday comes and goes, but Sidney doesn’t realize it until the morning after, when he could barely drag himself out of bed for his run.
He misses the sunrise, and another sunset, for that matter.
-
“You usually go to Vail around this time, don’t you?” Flower say, his voice coming out that much louder and grainier on speaker. “Have you been in Cole Harbour the entire time?”
“I don’t need this from you,” Sidney groans. “You said this was an emergency call.”
“This is an emergency,” Flower says, his voice turning serious. “Sidney, I’m worried about you. Tanger’s worried. Phil texted me to check if you’ve died. The entire team says you’ve been living off the grid. You’re turning into Bear Grylls.”
“Off the—Flower, I’m just at home. I have a working stove and toilet and everything.”
“Is this about the Cup?”
“No, I—it’s not the Cup, no.”
“Sidney.”
“I’m serious!” There’s no other way to get Flower off his back. “I got dumped, okay? Well, I got dumped after I came home. But that’s not why I came here.”
“I’m sorry,” Flower says, not missing a beat, and he truly does sound sincere. “Do you want to talk about it? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone in Pittsburgh.”
“I wasn’t.” He gulps down the lump in his throat. “I met him when I was grocery shopping here. It’s not a big deal.”
Flower is silent, but Sidney can almost hear the gears in his head turning.
“Is he Russian?” is the first thing Flower says.
“Is he—what? No, why does everyone keep asking that?”
“Just wondering. Hey, does Geno know?”
“He knows.” Sidney starts to pick at a loose thread on his t-shirt. “I didn’t tell him the details though, but he tried to ask.”
“You can’t hide from Geno forever, you know.”
“I’m not hiding from anyone,” Sidney says defensively.
“Well, Geno’s texted me about a dozen times asking if I knew what you were up to. I keep telling him that I’m literally equally as far from you physically, but he’s not getting it.” Flower goes on before Sidney can cut in, “All I’m saying is, at least call him so he doesn’t worry himself into a heart attack in Russia.”
“I’ll call later,” Sidney says.
“I’ll find out if you didn’t,” Flower sing-songs, then sobers up. “I really will. I’m the next person in his panic-queue.”
“Alright, alright.”
“Oh, and Sid? One more thing. You know we all love you, right? I don’t care who you date. We’d all like to meet them whenever you’re ready.”
Sidney swallows thickly, biting this lip and willing himself not to break. “Love you too, Flower.”
“I just want you to be happy. Geno does, too.”
“We’re on the same page then,” Sidney laughs, a little throatily.
-
“Hi, G,” Sidney says, clutching his pillow to his chest. He’s a little too drunk on Geno’s bottle and his entire body feels like he’s fighting to swim against a current of goo when he crawled from the kitchen back into bed. “Happy belated birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t call—I—I should’ve called. I saw the penguins you had on your story. Really cute.”
“Birthday few days ago. Is almost your birthday now,” Geno murmurs warmly, sounding so familiar and wonderful that it churns painfully at Sidney’s insides. He sounds glad to hear Sidney, and if that doesn’t make the guilt bite harder. “Is so late there. You not sleep? Break routine, is end of world.”
“It’s not that late.”
“Should be 2 AM there.” Silence, then, “Everything okay?”
That was all it took, apparently.
“Not really,” Sidney croaks out, his throat catching, then loses it completely.
“Oh, Sid, Sid,” Geno is saying, as Sidney tries to steady his own breathing. “Slow down, I’m—I’m not understand—is okay, you’ll be okay. Shh, Sid, shh. Is okay.”
He can’t, as much as he wants to. He’s making a mess of his sleeve and he’s halfway baffled because he hadn’t cried when Thomas collected his things, hadn’t cried in what seems to be years. But now, he’s gasping like all the air’s been vacuumed out from the room, and bitter, pathetic, unrelenting tears are falling like there’s nothing that can possibly fix him. Like he’s eight again, still afraid of the parents during games shouting ugly, ugly words at him, afraid of the other players coming at him with the intent to shatter, afraid he’ll be fighting alone until he does break in two and can’t tape himself back together like usual.
“‘t’s just me again,” he blubbers out. He doesn’t think the noises he’s making sound human. “I thought I could love him but I was just being selfish. He didn’t want me and you don’t want me and I’m back in this house by myself and I miss you.”
Geno clucks his tongue, like someone had driven a spear through his chest. “Sidney—”
“I miss you so fucking bad, but I’m so stupid because I know you have a girlfriend, and that’s okay. That’s—that’s awesome for you, that’s—I’m glad you’re happy. I want you to be. But you keep sending me photos and saying you wished I were there, and I keep waking up pretending that maybe today, I can make you happy—”
“Sidney, no, is not stupid. You—you make me most happy, I do want you—”
(A part of Sidney wishes that if Geno says his name enough times, it’d be enough to sew his own heart back together, enough to make him whole and good enough for someone to want to stay.)
“No, you don’t. Not like that.” The tears are coming out slower now, the flood now being replaced with something sour and shameful. “That’s why I’ve been staying in Cole Harbour. I want to go home but I’m already home. I don’t know what to do.”
“Sid,” Geno says again, firmly. “You have bear?”
“Bear?” He blinks—the world is a fuzzy blur around him. “Wha?”
“Bear I give you,” Geno insists. “You have?”
“Zhenya?” Sidney looks at the windowsill. Zhenya the Bear had been keeping watch across the lake all this time, facing away from Sidney, like he’s gazing across it all to wherever Geno is. “I have him.”
Geno falters at the name. “Sid, before I not tell you what bear name mean. Want to make surprise, but can’t wait. Sid, you listen?”
He nods, forgetting Geno can’t see him. “Yeah,” he says, his voice coming out reedy.
“Zhenya is special name, save for most important people, people I love.” Geno continues softly, “Save for family, and now save for you. You understand? Is my nickname. I’m give you bear because can’t be there right now with you. Is silly, maybe is embarrassing thing for babies, but I see him in store, and I think is best way to show you. You have my name. You have Geno, you have Zhenya, you have me. Always have me.”
It’s too much. The alcohol and the declaration is blending together into confusion and exhaustion.
“Zhenya,” Sidney tells him, barely able to keep his eyes open any longer. “I’m so tired.”
“Go sleep, Sid,” Geno says. “Is very late. Need wake up at 5 AM and be best hockey player in world.”
“Don’t go,” he sniffs. He’s sure he’s nearly incoherent at this point. “Please don’t go.”
“I’m not hang up,” Geno promises. “Sleep. I’m tell you my day with Mama. Go visit her yesterday, because she want to make this cookie, is like childhood dessert for me and Denis, very old recipe—”
Sidney doesn’t even make it past the second sentence before he’s out like a light.
-
“Where are you, man?” Nate’s voice crackles through on the receiver. “I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes. I think this old lady thinks I got stood up. Or I’m loitering. Maybe both.”
“Shit.” Sidney smacks a palm to his forehead. Everything hurts—his head, his eyes, his insides. “I’m so sorry, I overslept. Fuck, I’m getting up now.”
He sits up, and immediately doubles over. He has to take several seconds before the nausea subsides.
Nate makes a concerned noise. “You okay? We can reschedule.”
“Yeah, yeah, that might…” Deep breathes. “Might be the best.”
He fumbles for his phone, then notices the four hour call with Geno on his history, and everything comes back like a slap.
He barely makes it to the bathroom before he starts dry heaving.
-
“Geno? Hi, I’m—I want to apologize for…for everything. It was unfair of me to put that on y—I should’ve never said anything. Please give me a call back. I’m sorry.”
-
Ten messages later, and Sidney’s notifications remain silent for the first time in months.
-
“I messed up, Flower,” Sidney garbles out. “I messed it up.”
Flower’s murmurs do little to soothe, but Sidney holds onto his voice like a lifeline.
-
The days come and go as usual, and Sidney still wakes up with the sun. Only now it seems that much quieter.
-
Sidney’s sitting on the docks, his legs dangling over the edge as the music and laughter from his backyard plays on like a half-forgotten soundtrack. Thirty-one and still the same as he was when he was eighteen, lonely and tired and feeling like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, only now he’s admitting that his knees are buckling.
“What did you wish for?” Taylor asks, when he’d blown out the candles a few moments ago.
A miracle, he thinks.
“A Cup, what else?” he fibs, and his friends laugh uproariously as they yell, ‘Don’t say it out loud, you’ll jinx it!’ His father pats him on the back, and Taylor looks so sad and lost for him that he has to turn away, excusing himself from the crowd.
He hears footsteps creaking up behind him, and he sighs. “Taylor, I’ll be back in a bit, I just wanted some air—”
“Sid, you miss own party?” the voice says softly.
Sidney whips around so quickly he nearly topples himself off the ledge. The same face, same eyes, same smile that Sidney has loved for years and years, standing on the docks holding a lopsided chocolate chip cheesecake that looks like it’s seen better days.
“Is that—” He points at Geno’s hands. He can’t breathe. “Did you—”
“Made it with Taylor, couldn’t bring back the one I see in Russia. Not the same but…hope is still taste good.” He sets the cake down, takes one hesitant step forward. “Happy birthday, Sid.”
Sidney scrambles to his feet and flies into Geno’s open arms. He almost trips at the last step on that one creaky floorboard that he keeps telling himself he should fix before he goes back to Pittsburgh, but Geno reaches out, catches him and holds him close like he can’t imagine ever letting Sidney go in the first place.
“Should have come sooner, sorry take so long,” Geno murmurs into Sidney’s curls. “Should have come with you to Cole Harbour from beginning. Want to tell you how I feel at end of season, but then you say you already date someone, and I’m get scared—at first, you know, think need to be happy for you, but maybe not so good at it because I’m send pictures and things anyways to try win you back and hope not too late—then you call, and—”
“But you’re the one dating someone else,” Sidney hiccups out.
Geno places his hand tenderly on Sidney’s cheek, like he’s cupping Sidney’s entire soul. “Always been you. I’m just waiting for you.”
“Geno,” Sidney says. His heart feels like it’s being pulled taut like piano strings, crying out everything he can’t articulate as he hopes that Geno understands. “Zhenya.”
Geno clasps his hand, the other one tipping up Sidney’s chin to place one, two kisses on Sidney’s reddened cheeks. “Don’t cry, Sid.”
He doesn’t care as he misses another sunset, not when Geno’s bending him back to kiss him right, tender and sweet.
“How long are you staying?” Sidney gasps out, because he has to know. “When’s your flight back?”
“Oh, Sid,” Geno laughs, bright and airy, and it’s really such a wonderful thing to hear. “I’m just come home, why I’m go again?”
He closes his eyes as Geno leans in for the third kiss, as his own once-still heart finally, finally lurches that blissful two beats forward that he’s been waiting for.
#blue bayou fic#here it is#sid/omc tw#also....sid is emotional tw i guess#there's no real plot its just like big pining i guess#the pining fic#sidgeno#ALSO it did end up being a little different from the original
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I Found My Heart in San Francisco
Another fun fact: Every day this week will have A. Three stories in Qrow’s perspective, B. Three in Tai’s and C. One they share, which was Day 2 of course. I really had the weirdest guidelines when I did this, but I honestly think it provided some of the best personal results.
Day 4 – Love Language/New Hobbies (thinking about it, they kind of both fit but the former was the more intentional choice) @taiqrowweek
Summary: It’s 1967. The Summer of Love has come and passed. Yet, Qrow discovers that even though the season has transitioned into the next, love is persistent. Maybe that was why they called it Falling. [Coffee Shop AU… with a twist!]
Rating: K+
Word Count: 13K – yeah this one’s a monster
Warnings: Take the timeline into consideration – definitely some discrimination in this one
Ao3 Link: I Found My Heart in San Francisco
Dedication: This one’s all for marvolo2526. I couldn’t think up another AU idea to complete the circuit and she had yelled ‘coffee shop!’ and then I went wild from there.
Notes: Title is a play off of the 1953 Tony Bennett single "I Left My Heart in San Francisco".
Okay. Oh wow. It’s time to give you all my absolute favorite of the week… and probably overall. This baby took two months of love and care and a BUTT-TON of research to compose. On that note, any historical inaccuracies, if anyone finds any, were either deliberate, accidental, or enough research was unable to be located. I’m very, very proud of this story though, my whole heart went into it, and I really just hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
~
San Francisco
September 18th, 1967
If anyone asked Qrow, he’d tell them patience was only for those who couldn’t figure out how to do things quickly.
Ca-chink!
Like using a cash register. Any twelve-year-old who had a dream of driving up to Harbinger Cliffs to maybe get lucky knew how to use one. He was certainly one of many who had lost countless weekends of his school years selling malts to snot-nosed kids or learning how to balance a tray full of burgers and fries while on rollerblades just to earn some nickels. It all paid off by junior year, when he finally got to roll up to school in his shiny Chevy Bel Air and got treated like a god by his peers. Opening himself up to the social map got him to also meet his high school sweetheart; and while he never took Winter Schnee up to the cliffs, he did get to take her to prom. They latest up until graduation day, where she went off to Atlas while he accepted a scholarship to Beacon. During the first year, he’d wrote letters; but a few months in, she stopped responding and he moved on.
In more ways than one.
“And that’s it!” Summer explained as she showed how to close the sale on the register, shutting the cashdrawer. “Think you got it?”
“Mmm? Yeah, I’m good.” Qrow replied, when in truth he had put more attention into trying to balance one of the red stirrers on his fingertips than listening to her.
His new manager swiped it off his finger and bopped him on the nose with it. “Qrow!”
“Whaaat?” He lent back against the counter. “Come on Sums, I’ve worked register before.”
Her expression only turned further sour, which was not very charming. “I pulled a lot of strings to convince my parents to let you work here, so if there’s even a penny out of place, I’m shoving this up your nose.”
Qrow eyed the stirrer warily, raising his hands in surrender. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Café Rosé was a charming little establishment on the corner of 3rd and Main, conveniently within walking distance of the academy and a college kid’s dream spot for exam cramming or after-party pick-me-ups. Though it had only opened a few years ago, it had done well for itself, having hit the scene just as coffee was becoming a larger fad among young adults. The quaint shop had a hole in the wall style feeling, with a bar running along the white counter and less than a half dozen tables and chairs set up across the limited floor space. The floor was chessboard checkered like a typical diner and the walls were black. The atmosphere would almost be depressing, if not for the additional design choice: red rose bouquets, hand painted at equally spaced intervals along the walls, making the room pop in an almost dazzling way without being too gaudy.
Honestly, he was ninety-eight percent sure the only reason he got hired was the fact he matched the shop’s chic color scheme to a T (though, he was certainly aesthetically pleasing all on his own, if he did say so himself). It definitely wasn’t because Summer’s parents liked him – they’re suspicious stares said all he needed to know of what they thought of him. Still, he couldn’t beat a job close to his dorm room that was also willing to work around his intensive school schedule; a fact only further daunted by the major-intensive coursework that came with starting his junior year. So, certainly he could put up with a bit of distaste for a few extra dollars in his pocket.
Plus, working with his best friend was an added bonus.
The bell above the door chimed, a small group of sophomores walking in, chattering amicably. Summer side-eyed him with a cheeky grin. “Alright Mr. Expert, time to put your skills to work.”
He winked in return. “I’ll try not to show you up, flowerbud.”
The next hour proceeded fairly commonly; he took orders, Summer made them, he delivered them. Simple. They had some snacks and fare to sell – the homemade pastries were a little stale, so he didn’t recommend those – but overall, the big selling point was the coffee. It was good brew and made with one of these new-fangled drip machines that had come out only a few years back. Most households couldn’t afford it and still made their coffee by boiling water on the stove, so merely the appeal alone of being able to buy coffee made the fancy, expensive way left people feeling like they were sophisticated and high-class.
Frankly, the little machine was just fascinating to operate, and more than once Qrow found himself just watching the russet liquid teardrop into the glass pot. It was during one of those mesmerized moments that he didn’t realize someone was standing behind him until he heard a thump-thump-thump of someone’s hand smacking the counter. He started and whirled around, a retort already curling on his tongue –
And immediately fizzling away as he was starstruck by the deepest blue eyes he’d ever seen.
The fellow was probably the same age as him, but the way he waved and smiled almost boyishly shy at him made him appear a bit younger and had Qrow’s heart skipping like it was playing for the Hopscotch National championship.
Mother of Mary, he was in love.
“Uh, sorry. How can I help you?” He said, stepping back up to the register on wobbly legs. The stranger hesitated, as if uncertain, and it gave Qrow the chance to give him a real look over.
His appearance was very Beatles-esque but the shade arrangement blended into a sort of downhome country allure: mop-top cut blond hair, orange silk necktie, lamb’s wool yellow sweater, russet flare slacks. What stood out the most though was the single piercing in his right ear, the stud in the shape of a sunflower. He must have been staring at it too long, because the blond suddenly pointed at it, raising an eyebrow in an unasked question. Qrow reached up, covering his own stud, a sideways cross that matched his necklace, nodding quietly.
The response was… bizarre. Those pretty blue eyes widened as he shook his head rapidly, before he pointed a bit more insistently at his own ear.
“Uhh… what?” Qrow asked.
The stranger slumped a bit, before gritting his teeth a little and hissing, “Sssu…” He paused, frowning, then held up a finger in the universal gesture of ‘wait a moment’ before digging around in his pocket.
The hell was this, some weird game of charades? He wasn’t that out of the scene was he? Whatever it was, it was kind of a buzzkill. “Buddy, maybe you just want to order?”
He didn’t even bother to acknowledge that with a response, still going about pulling out a small notepad, scratching something onto it hurriedly before holding it out his way.
Where’s Summer?
Qrow felt a spike of annoyance rise. Was this guy confused or just an idiot? Either way, he aimed the other with as sharp a stare as he could muster, snapping, “I’ll tell you right now, she ain’t interested. So if you’d like to order, I suggest doing so. Otherwise, leave.”
That earned him another frown, before the blond started to write again. What the ever-living hell was this?! And why was everyone at the shop giving him looks, like he was the one doing weird shit? “Hey, you need your ears cleaned? Either order or get out!”
That was when he heard the snap of the back door closing as Summer walked back in.
“Tai!” She yelped, before crossing the room in an instant, hip-checking Qrow out of the way with a hasty, “Sorry, I got this!” She reached out, tapping the freak’s arm. It caused him to stop writing and look up, before he grinned brightly. Summer smiled in return and then started to move her hands in odd patterns as she spoke, “Sorry, he’s new. The usual, right?”
The blond set down his pen and paper, silently gesturing back in equally unintelligible movements. Qrow watched the odd events wondering if he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone or something because though he wasn’t speaking, Summer seemed to understand whatever it was he was saying – was the conversation transmitting right into her brain?
Qrow watched the man warily as he handed over some money and walked away from the counter, unsure what to make of the sheepish smile and wave he offered him as he passed. He looked back at Summer, ducking over to grab her shoulder and murmur, “Do I need to call the FBI?”
“What?” She snorted down a laugh.
“I think your brain’s been probed.” He shot the man a suspicious glance. Was that why he was so attractive? To put unsuspecting guys like him off his guard?
“Really Qrow?” Summer was unamused. “I think I’m going to have to ban you from late night TV.”
He frowned, a touch indignant. It could happen! “Well, what was that then?”
“It was sign language, dummy.” She rolled her eyes. “Taiyang’s deaf.”
He blinked.
Oh.
So, he just yelled at a deaf guy.
Face turning peppermint red, he placed a hand on the counter, using it as leverage to slowly sink behind it so no one could see him anymore. “I think I’m just going to take my break here. Preferably forever.”
He was given a few sympathetic pats on the head and, ten minutes later, a peace offering in the form of a cup of coffee with enough cream and sugar to turn it light as caramel. So, he sucked it up and took his walk of shame all the way to the end of the counter, carefully placing the mug down in the other’s line of sight, but not too close to the textbook he was reading.
Taiyang glanced up and that boyish smile was back. He placed a hand against his chin and waved outwards, like he was blowing a kiss to him.
Somehow, Qrow turned even redder this time, ducking his head and hurrying away as his heart thundered in a confused cacophony.
~
October 3rd, 1967
“Alright bro, you’ve been wallowing for days now. Lay it on me already.”
Qrow sighed, pulling the pillow up from his face and glancing towards his twin. Rather than answer, his lips pursed in disgust at the sight of her. “What are those grungy things?”
Raven pulled down the overly large purple shades, red eyes peering over the rim tops at him. “You don’t like them? I thought they were pretty boss.” She readjusted the glasses, looking back at herself in the mirror. Each time she turned her head to see herself from another angle, the multitude of beads she had strung in her hair rattled nosily, the flower bandanna around her head doing nothing to contain the wild black locks.
“Remind me to tell Vernal to keep you off the grass for a while.” Qrow mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“She was talking about getting inked, you know.” She pat her arm. “Right here. A raven.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, but his mind was on Taiyang and the little black heart he had on his own arm. Qrow had only seen it yesterday; it had been a warm day so he’d been in a polo rather than his arrangement of sweaters. “You get liver poisoning that way.” He replied distractedly.
“You really are being a drag.” Raven sat on her own bed, graciously sparing him from having to look at the gaudy shades by tossing them on the mattress. “What’s happening?”
He tossed the inkling around in his head, pondering over whether he really wanted to tell his sister about his woes. But, who else did he have besides Summer? “You know the job I took a few weeks back? We have a regular there who can’t hear.”
“Like, at all?” When he nodded, she lent forward, resting her hands under her chin. “Wild. So what do you do?”
“Summer talks to him with these weird hand flaps.”
“It’s called sign language, birdbrain.”
“I know! That’s not the point!”
She arched a brow. “So, what is the point?”
“I…” He looked away, unable to face her as he admitted, “He irritates me. I don’t get why we should cater to him just ‘cause he was unlucky.”
There was a creak of bedspring as Raven shifted positions, then said, “You sound like mom.”
“I know!” Qrow shouted, shooting up from the bed and running his hands through his hair. “It’s been three years Rae! Why can’t I get her damn screechy voice out of my head?!”
Raven lounged back on the heels of her hands, her red eyes following him while he paced the floor and mumbled out angry curses. She was patient as she waited for him to finish, but once he’d slumped back to his own bed, hanging his head in defeat, her voice was oddly soothing to his frayed nerves, “Ma had plenty to say about everyone. It’s hard conditioning to break. You and I know that better than anyone.”
He scoffed. “As if you ever had a problem.”
She shrugged, not answering that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known Raven was kissing chicks behind the bleachers by the time she was thirteen. And when their parents finally found out and pointed to the door, she’d marched out of the house with her head held high as if it’d been her idea to leave the whole time.
But him? He didn’t even try crossing the bridge until his first college party, where a few shots blitzed him enough to realize that Tin Man Jimmy’s eyes were rather fetching and it was a terrible shame to make them close when he kissed him. They hadn’t lasted, but it had been enough to make him want to find the underground world hidden from society’s eye. So, after getting a few tips from Raven (and a lot of necessary encouragement over how he wasn’t a demon birthed from Hell’s fiery womb), he started to dress just a bit flashier, speak a little more in jargon and frequent more bars on the south side of town. Three years away from home left him more comfortable within himself than he’d ever thought possible, as if he truly was a bird that was finally given the right to fly for the first time. He thought he’d really broken free of the cage his parents had ignorantly built around him.
And then he had to meet Taiyang and, with each passing day leaving his attraction further soured with distaste, Qrow realized that no, he really wasn’t past everything and maybe he never would be.
“You’re brooding.” Raven quirked, always pleased in her awful taste of humor. “Look, you really want to stick it to mom? Make friends with him.” She rolled her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “And if you can’t do that, then just ignore him.”
“I, I guess.” He conceded, sighing towards the ceiling. “This is all so janked. Even worse, I feel like I’m betraying my people somehow.”
“What does that mean?”
He placed a hand over his piercing, recalling the expression on Tai’s face when he’d done the same thing during their first meeting. An expression he now understood had been panic as the man feared he’d just accidentally made a total stranger out himself in public. “He’s batting for my team, not yours.”
“Ooooo.” Her expression lit up with sudden understanding. A smirk began creeping its way onto her face. “So what’s he look like?”
Qrow gave her one glance before adamantly shaking his head. “Oh no. I know that gleam.”
She fluttered her eyelids; though, the day she could pull of innocent would be the same day God’s rapture happened. “Whatever do you mean, dear brother?”
“You’ve got that look that says you’re about to psychoanalyze me!”
“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Just because you’re majoring in psychology doesn’t suddenly make you an expert.”
“No. I suppose not.” She finally agreed. And as he stretched back out along his bed, he thought she was just going to let it go, until: “…So, blue eyes, huh?”
Qrow buried his face into his pillow and screamed.
~
October 11th, 1967
The rag made a wet plop as Qrow tossed it onto the tabletop, wiping away circular coffee cup marks and pastry crumbs. It was a slow day at the café, only three customers in the shop and only a handful of others having come in since the start of his shift. He looked towards the only one sitting at the bar. Taiyang was signing in quick, rapid movements, and though Qrow couldn’t make heads or tails of it, Summer had no trouble keeping up as she started to laugh at whatever he was telling her.
Feeling his jaw tighten, he ducked his head and slunk off to another table, scrubbing a little harder at the stains. It had only been a few days, and he found attempting to ignore Tai was only resulting in him being even more hyperaware of his presence.
The only other patrons were two classmates he faintly recognized from his American Studies course. They were talking in hushed tones and, normally, he’d tune it out; but searching for a much-needed distraction, Qrow lent down to wipe one of the chair seats off as he strained his ear.
“I don’t know about this Cardin.” He heard one of them grunt gruffly. The guy’s hair was cut in a way that it made him look like a ridiculous cockatiel.
The other hissed back, “Don’t be a flake.”
“I’m not!”
“Good.” Then, even lower, “It’s not like he’ll hear us coming anyways.”
What?!
Qrow narrowly missed smacking his head on the bottom of the table as he straightened up. Walking around their table to the next, he continued to try and listen in, but they’d moved to talking about the Yankees game. He side-eyed their backs, wondering if he’d maybe just misheard. Eventually, he gave up hovering, knowing there was only so much he could pretend to clean and returned to the counter to organize the mugs.
The minutes passed and he kept sneaking glances to the duo, but when they didn’t so much as give Tai a glance when he stood to leave, Qrow relaxed, even returned the wave the blond sent him as he passed by. The bell rang as the door opened and shut.
Seconds ticked by and nothing happened.
He sighed, turning away and tossing his rag in the basin. Of course he was overreacting.
Scraaap!
Qrow paused, looking back and watching with increasing trepidation as the two students got to their feet, pulling on their jackets. The snap of the door closing was unusually loud, leaving a disturbing silence behind.
“Ah! Alone at last.” Summer cheered, handing him Tai’s mug.
He swallowed down the sickness in his throat. “Yeah.”
His friend continued to chatter but he found it hard to listen as he stared down at the cup, his mind circling as much as the coffee rings he was staring at.
“God has a plan for everyone.” He could almost feel the bite of his mother’s fingernails digging into his shoulder as she whispered in his ear, “If someone’s born unnatural, He’s already forsaken them. Whatever comes next, it’s only what they deserve.”
His hand tightened around the mug, then he slammed it on the counter, the loud noise drowning out her voice.
No!
“Uh, Qrow?”
“I’m taking my break!” He called, jumping over the counter in one fluid motion as he sprinted out the door. He took off around the building and through the alleyway most of the students cut through to get to the outfields.
The night was brisk, autumn’s chill having settled in deep this year and leaving the trees already wilting, their spindly limbs like decrepit fingers reaching out for him as he passed by. His heart beat a hard rhythm in his chest as he spotted the duo quickly closing in. Qrow sprinted forward as fast as legs could carry him, his mouth opening in a useless cry Tai could never hear.
Except, by some miracle he did, stopping and turning just in time to accept Cardin’s punch to his face.
Even from this distance, Qrow winced at the sound of the impact, and had it been him accepting the blow, he would have been on the ground immediately. But Tai was more solidly built, only stumbling back, and still had the awareness to jerk away from the follow up strike. What happened next was probably the most unreal thing Qrow had ever witnessed when, just as quick, the blond’s hands reached out, clasping around his attacker’s wrist and elbow, smoothly kicking out his legs so he could flip him. Cardin gave an aborted yelp, all the breath probably whooshing out of his lungs from how hard he hit the ground.
His mohawked buddy tried to grapple Tai from behind, but the blond’s elbow snapped back, landing a rough hit into his chest to knock him back. That was when Qrow finally managed to clean the distance, throwing all his weight in as he shoulder-tackled into guy just as he was stumbling back, actually managing to toss him into the grass next to his friend.
Rubbing the ache from his arm, Qrow ignored the look of surprise Tai was sending him as he growled out to sprawled forms, “If you don’t want to get thrashed again, I suggest you split!”
Cardin scowled as he got to his knees, eyes darting between them as if he was looking for another cheap shot. He must have thought better of whatever ill plans he was concocting though, because he said, “Time to cut out Russ, this scene’s getting diseased.”
A flare of anger burned through Qrow. “What was that?!”
It only earned him a taunting, “Later fags!” As the two took off.
His hands shook as he curled them into fists, mind playing the thought of chasing after them and giving them both a quality shiner to wear for the rest of the week. Yet, movement at his left had him looking back at Tai in time to see the blond cringing some as he touched his face.
“Ah, jeez.” Qrow mumbled when the other’s hand came away scarlet red with blood.
Returning to the shop with Tai’s nose gushing like a fountain yielded about the response he expected as Summer took one look at them, then yelled in horror, “What happened?!”
Leading the blond to the nearest bar stool, Qrow replied, “The two that left here tried to get the jump on him. Can you get a rag, Sums?”
The dainty woman was quick to do so, ringing it out in the sink before handing it over to the blond. As he pressed it to his face, she gestured and said, “Are you alright?”
With his hands busy, all Tai could do was nod.
“He’s fine.” Qrow reassured, leaning his hip against the counter. “Took it like a champ and gave twice back. It was kind of impressive actually.” Really, there had been something fantastic about the finesse in which Tai had moved; it had been as if he was channeling Bruce Lee spirit into his own.
Being the girl she was, Summer only continued to frown, flapping her hands some more. “Stay as long as you need.”
Tai just nodded again, and as she walked away to finish stocking the coffee canisters, he glanced sideways towards him in a confused manner.
“Eh.” Qrow just shrugged in return. He turned away, about to round the bar, when a warm hand closed around his arm. He looked down at it, then the man it belonged to. “Yeah?” He asked, remembering two seconds later he couldn’t hear him. Just like when they first met, Taiyang asked him to wait, before he dug out his notepad and pen, flipping it to a clean page. Qrow rested against the counter again, looking down when the notepad was pushed towards him.
Thank you for coming after me. It read. The handwriting was so neat, it could have been book print and Qrow imagined he probably went to one of those schools that slapped students’ wrists until each line and dot was perfect.
He wondered if they were even harder on Tai about it.
The pen was placed down next to it, invitation clear, and after a short hesitance, Qrow picked it up, writing back: You don’t need to thank me. You did fine on your own. How’d you know they were there?
Tai shook his head when he read it, taking the pen again, returning with, I saw their shadows.
Okay, that’s pretty boss. He replied.
Thank you?
The question mark, combined with the baffled look, made Qrow wonder if he even knew what the term meant so he quickly amended with: Sorry. It means really cool.
Tai read it, rolling his eyes. His reply was quick, but rather than push it back he held the notepad up, one raised eyebrow enhancing the clearly miffed tone: I know. I’m deaf, not out of touch.
He laughed, the response catching him off-guard.
Tai set it back down and added underneath that, Noticing stuff like that is normal for me. Nothing to get freaked out over.
Just like the blond had, Qrow replied with an equal amount of cheekiness: Alright Mr. Sassypants. I still -think it’s boss.
It gifted him a smile and a compliment: You’re lucky you’re a dish, Qrow.
He felt heat on his face. Perfect for every meal of the day. He flirted back.
Tai laughed behind his hand. It was mostly soundless, little tiny huffs of air, but it made his eyes shimmer merrily.
Qrow was glad he had the counter for support as he felt his knees go weak all over again, positive the smile stretching along his face was goofy as could be, but not minding at all.
~
October 12th, 1967
As he took the ever-familiar trek from his history class to the shop, Qrow found himself whistling the chorus to “All You Need is Love”, a bop to his step and a sway to his hips. He pretended the brittle grass crunching underfoot was a suitable replacement for the backing percussion, heels hitting a little harder when he passed over the same spot where those punks had gotten their tails handed to them just last night, and made his way through the trees and alley next. He weaved his way around the bad luck cracks in the sidewalk, humming the last tones of the song as he pulled open the door, the half-formed plan on how to convince Summer to let him slack off a bit today so he could chat Tai up again falling away when he realized she wasn’t at the counter.
“Hey there, Mrs. Rose.” He said as politely as possible. “Sums running late?”
The woman, hair graying and tummy plumped with age shook her head. “‘Fraid she won’t be making it in for a bit. Poor child came down with a frightful fever. She looks just dreadful. So I’ve decided to work her shift until she feels well.”
“Oh.” He said, trying to mask his disappointment. “Give her my regards next time you see her.”
“Certainly will. Now, be a dear and handle the dishes.” As he passed by her, she caught his arm, grip almost too tight as she whispered harshly in his ear, “And get that thing out of your ear. People talk you know.”
“Yes ma’am.” Qrow replied. As he placed the stud in his pocket, he found himself extremely glad she hadn’t been there yesterday. She certainly would have spared no sympathy for Tai and his mangled nose.
He wasn’t surprised when he spent his next hour working like a dog, despite the moderate business. But even if Mrs. Rose had made him scrub the tiles with a toothbrush, nothing could tear his eyes away from the door. Therefore, he didn’t miss the exact moment Tai walked through. He practically dropped the trayful of mugs he was bussing in his hurry to set them down and hop on the register.
From the smile he wore, it seemed Tai was just as blissed to see him. And though his face was swollen and bruised, he was still the prettiest sight Qrow had gotten all day.
He slid the note he’d written on a scrap of receipt over. Summer’s sick and her mom’s a prowler. The usual?
The blond nodded, pulling out his pen. Good luck.
As he took the change, he stuffed the note next to his earring, hoping that having the wish in his pocket would act like a charm, because he was going to need all he could get.
No matter how much he wanted to, Qrow didn’t dare try to talk more with Tai. He did spare him a few glances here and there, and if they caught eyes, they’d share smiles; but even that yielded short supply as the blond spent most of his time bent over his notebook, scribbling away. He would have been more upset that those blue eyes weren’t following his every moment like a lovesick chick gazing upon her Casanova, had he had enough time to consider it.
Instead, he was too busy following the siren’s noxious songs of “Qrow can you do” and “Qrow can you get this” and “Qrow this just isn’t clean enough”. So, by the time he thought to look back, Tai’s stool was empty, nothing left but his mug. Trying not to let disappointment drag him down, he went to fetch it. His hand paused inches from picking up the mug when he realized a folded slip of paper was pinned underneath it.
Heart jamming a rhythm that would make even The Rolling Stones jealous, Qrow scanned the store, just to make sure no one’s attention was on him, before he picked up the note. A question was written on it:
What’s a crow’s favorite drink?
He arched an eyebrow, before unfolding the page. The answer was written in large lettering, arched like a rainbow over a surprisingly well-drawn ink picture of a cartoon crow with its wings folded around a mug.
CAWfee!
Qrow snorted, shoulders shaking with effort to contain his laughter, a flush of warmth spreading throughout him like a warm summer rain.
“Qrow! Don’t dawdle over there! I need you to scrub these pastry pans!” Mrs. Rose called shrilly.
Even that couldn’t ruin his euphoric mood. “Coming!” He placed the drawing next to his receipt and earring, feeling luckier than the richest man in Vegas.
~
October 13th, 1967
Day two went much the same, but with a heavier crowd often found as the week drew on as exhausted students tried to sludge through the day and make it to the weekend. Once the first hour had passed, Qrow’s feet and patience were already tired and he’d managed to mix up two orders. Summer’s mom was in a state over it, and she made sure he knew it as she yelled down at him enough that he felt like he was back in primary school and getting scolded for pushing Glynda off the witch’s hat on the playground all over again.
As he waited for the coffee to brew once again, vengefully contemplating the ramifications of his soul if he decided to set Mr. Rose’s hair on fire, he heard a telltale rap-a-tap-tap along the countertop that told him his favorite customer had arrived. And, sure enough, as he turned to face the register, there Tai was, smiling back at him in that way he couldn’t imagine he’d ever grow tired of.
Qrow did his best to return it, but Tai didn’t need hearing to tell him that his heart was misplaced from it. Already prepared, the blond scribbled on his little notepad, sliding it his way.
You alright?
He took the proffered pen. I’ll survive.
It felt a shame to see the smile get overtaken by a frown and he felt almost as cheated as if the weatherman promised a sunny day only for him to walk into the rain. Tai rolled the pen between his fingers, before writing quickly: Hang in there Pige.
Wait.
What?
Qrow’s eyebrows knotted. Of course he knew the reference. Any 50s kid did. But how did-? No. More importantly-
No way. You’re Lady. I’m the Tramp, through and through.
I’m interested in that yarn if you dare to spin it. Tai was laughing quietly again.
Feeling his face heat, he quickly changed topics. How do you even know that movie?
I really like dogs. So, every week I’d beg my parents to take me to the cinema to see it, even though I couldn’t hear it. My mom eventually wrote out the dialogue for me so I could follow along. Now it was the other’s turn to look embarrassed.
Feeling a bit amiss for words, Qrow only wrote back, Good mom. Secretly glad that bitterness couldn’t be telegraphed so easily.
The best. Speaking of, Mrs. Rose is giving you the stink eye.
Ah, shit.
He gratefully accepted the dime the blond slipped him, reluctantly getting back to work.
That night, a new drawing was placed beside his coffee drinking crow. This one was only pencil and more hastily sketched due to being busier than its predecessor. The first thing that drew his eye was the slightly more masculine Lady, snooty nose up in the air and sunflower perched atop one floppy ear. There was a leash in ‘her’ teeth and a speech bubble above her head that said, ‘You belong in the dog house.’
Attached to its other end was Tramp, the pendant on his collar a sideways cross. His ears were raised hopefully as he inquired back, ‘Yours?’
Qrow lay in bed that night, unable to rest as he thought over the silent question for a long, long time.
~
October 14th, 1967
By day three, Summer was back and Qrow practically fell to her feet in his relief, hugging onto her knees and begging her to never leave him again. She promptly told him to stop overacting like he was living in a Broadway musical and, as an apology, gave him one of her Secret Ingredient Cookies that were known for their heavenly taste. It certainly made up for him still doing most of the work while his still recovering friend puttered about at the speed of molasses. Nor did she raise protest as he endlessly groused over his meager sufferings. It was only when he got to the single highlight of the past two days, did she speak up.
“Of course I knew he could draw.” Summer interjected what was meant to be a rhetorical question. “Who did you think painted the roses here?”
“Hold up. Didn’t your parents open this place up a few years back?”
“Yep.” She said, adding a little pop to the ‘p’.
He looked at her, mildly betrayed. “How long have you known Tai?”
She hummed. “Since 10th grade. I went to a special sign language event with my cousin Neo. To support her, you know?” He was certain from the way she rolled her eyes that he looked about as utterly clueless as he felt. “She’s mute, Qrow. Anyways, that’s where I met Tai. We stayed in touch ever since.”
He was starting to wonder what else he didn’t know about Summer. “So why haven’t I met him before?”
“Tai tends to get nervous meeting new people. And you’ve never exactly been Mr. Approachable, especially not back in high school.”
A weak, “Hey!” was about the extent of his argument. He couldn’t deny he used to be one of the biggest gas lighters in the whole school, always looking for a new victim to scoff at. It was a world wonder how Summer put up with him back then.
“But, you know,” She continued as she stacked a few of the clean mugs up on the rack, tone deceptively casual, “He sure has been hanging around here a lot more often ever since you started working here.”
Rap-a-tap-tap, went the counter. Summer smiled knowingly before she flitted over to the register. Qrow watched the two talk, meeting Tai’s eyes over her head every now and again, and found the question he’d been agonizing over all night was suddenly startlingly simple to answer.
As he went to make the order he’d long ago memorized, he turned to his friend and said, “Sums, I need a favor.”
Ten minutes later, the cup was placed down on the counter, and as always, Tai smiled at him, waving his hand in front of his chin like a kiss. ‘Thank you’ he said.
For the first time ever, instead of the simple nod that had been the entirety of their communication for weeks now, Qrow mimicked the movement. ‘You’re welcome.’
Tai’s eyes widened.
Hands shaking with both nerves and inexperience, he carefully followed up with, ‘Would you like to go out sometime?’
For a fraction of a minute, while the blond sat there, not replying, Qrow worried he’d gotten it wrong.
And then, just as slow and deliberate, Tai rose his hand, curling it into a fist and shaking it in clear answer.
‘Yes.’
And like the bird he was named after, Qrow soared.
~
November 28th, 1967
So that’s why you wear your crosses like that!
Yeah. With a mother like mine, you’d forsake all religion too. What about you? Why a flower?
Don’t laugh. I garden. Sunflowers are my favorite.
Wait. So you can draw, plant flowers and you’re a martial artist blackbelt? Is there anything you can’t do?
Well, I can’t sing.
Qrow laughed, reaching over the bar to give the other’s shoulder a playful shove. Tai grinned back, completely unabashed, but as he pulled his notebook back towards him to write something else, he seemed to hesitate. His expression gentled with contemplation before finally writing what was on his mind.
When Qrow read it, he felt his breath stick like glue in his throat.
I know you want to ask. It’s okay.
He looked from Tai’s inviting gaze down to the pen, the offer clearly on the table to finally break the light conversation they’d been having the past six weeks and truly get serious. Inhaling deeply, he gathered his courage as he took it and replied: You got me. So, were you always deaf?
Tai’s smile never faltered, even as he answered: No. But I don’t remember a time when I could hear either.
What happened?
When I was a baby, I got really sick. My blood-related father refused to let mom take me to the hospital, even when I wouldn’t wake up. That’s why she left him. The doctors brought down my fever but my hearing was gone after that.
Qrow’s scanned over the words again and again, unsure what to say, but knowing ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t be well received. That’s awful. He settled on instead.
Tai shrugged. Can’t miss what you never knew you had.
Qrow had a feeling he didn’t only mean his hearing. He could certainly relate.
He tried to think of something, anything to say – but, despite a distinct lack of a usable voice, Tai was easily better at breaking silences. Alright, your turn. Tell me something unique about yourself.
Unique, huh? He tapped the end of the pen on the counter as he thought over whether he wanted to give away his biggest trump card or if he wanted to hold it until he could introduce them before dropping the bomb. But, when nothing else good came to mind he finally wrote:
I’m a twin.
It was still worth it. Tai’s eyes practically bugged out of his head, looking between the page and him and when he wrote back, it was messy and excited, underlined multiple times for emphasis.
FAR OUT! I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!
He laughed again, twirling his wrist in a gesture he’d only recently learned meant ‘go on’. He was picking Sign in bits and pieces from the other. He still couldn’t hold a conversation or even complete the last third of the alphabet, but it certainly didn’t deter him. It helped his teacher’s hands were warm and gentle, often lingering intentionally on his own (it was also half the reason he was having so much trouble remembering most of them).
The notepad was finally pushed back, and though he expected all of them, it was probably Tai’s genuine enthusiasm that left Qrow feeling endeared rather than annoyed as he read, trying to contain his grin.
Are you younger or older? Identical? Have you two been switching on me this whole time without telling me? Can you read each other’s minds? Most importantly: Who’s the evil twin?
I’m younger. Not identical, but Raven’s definitely the evil twin. She can read my mind, sometimes, but she can do that with everyone. I’m pretty sure she’s actually an alien.
Tai scribbled back, You think everyone’s an alien. Really though, what’s it like having a sibling?
Qrow twirled the pen between his fingers like a baton as he gave the question some honest consideration before writing, Like having a best friend and worst enemy rolled into one. Rae gets on my nerves constantly and she can be unbearable to live with, but she’ll always be the first person I tell all my secrets to.
Sounds profound.
He wondered if it would be too weird to ask if he could save this page for himself, even as he replied, You should come to my dorm sometime. I could introduce you.
It was rare he ever saw Tai blush. He was suddenly very committed to making it happen more often. The blond started to write before shaking his head, quickly slashing it out and saying instead, I’d like that.
Yet, no matter how well the words were blacked out, Qrow truly was at least quarter-part hellion, because he had been reading as it was being written and filed the idea away for future use.
To what, your tongue?
~
December 2nd, 1967
“How. About. This?” Qrow said as he moved his hands slowly, then lifted them up to his eyes, circling them like spectacles.
Tai was unamused, making a sharp motion. ‘No way.’
He laughed, waving him down. ‘Joking.’
‘Try again.’
“Aright.” Qrow acquisitioned, “This?” This time, he brought his fists together like a heart, before moving them apart, spreading out his fingers as he did so, mimicking a firework.
Still wary of another joke, Tai tilted his head some and asked, ‘Why?’
Qrow reached for the notepad that was never far, writing down, Because you’re like a burst of energy.
He knew he had struck gold, because Tai immediately brightened, signing enthusiastically, ‘Love it!’
Rather pleased, he settled back against his headboard, scanning over the page which was full of broken sentences and single words. They’d been at it for a good hour but deciding on their name signs had been wicked cool. It felt like a secret handshake almost. Thankfully, Tai was also determined to be a bit more creative than simply making a bird that any teenybopper with a flashlight could imitate. Instead, he had curved the index and middle fingers of his right hand sideways, while placing the index of his left at the base of them.
Like a scythe. Qrow reread, brushing his thumb over the text. Because you’re dangerously beautiful.
A hand patting along the bedsheets drew his eyes back to the blond, who either signed ‘What now?’ or ‘What next?’, Qrow wasn’t entirely positive. He lifted the notepad for Tai to read, Can I ask you to try something? When he got the affirmative, he added after it, Can you say my name with your voice?
The response was immediate, Tai making the same motion over and over, ‘No. Nononononon-’ Face turning red, he stopped and hid behind his hands.
“Whoa, whoa.” He sat up, running his hand over the tops of the golden locks until he could see those blue eyes again to sign, ‘Please?’
Tai sighed soundlessly. ‘You’ll laugh.’
‘Probably.’ He chuckled when the other shoved him, repeating, ‘Please?’
The other snuffed like a discontented bull. ‘I’ll try’ Tai straightened up, placing his hand against his throat. He hummed and hawed to get a feel for the sound for a minute, his expression shifting comically as he got used to it, before his lips parted, a confused hiss escaping, “Ccccccoo?”
Qrow tried his best, he really did, but even with his teeth leaving grooves into his bottom lip, nothing could really contain the sudden fit that overcame him.
Tai flushed, looking indignant as he signed harsh repeats. ‘Jerk. Jerk, jerk, jerk!’
“I’m sorry!” He said, signing it adamantly but the blond looked away from him, obviously peeved. Qrow waited until he wasn’t going to laugh in his face again, reaching out to cup his hand under Tai’s chin, gently pulling his gaze back his way. Not quailing under the glare, he said, ‘Thank you.’
His lips pursed some, almost a pout, and his shoulders relaxed. But, he didn’t let him completely off the hook as he snatched up the notepad, pointing at, Can I ask you to try something?
Well, that was probably fair. Qrow nodded, “Yeah, sure.”
The book made a soft thump as it was tossed back to the sheets. Tai began to move his hands in a slow manner whenever he was worried Qrow wouldn’t understand. He pointed to himself.
“Me.” Qrow sounded out. Two movements, one blending into the next as Tai closed his hand and pointed at him, “And you.”
Boyishly shy as if it were their first meeting all over again, Tai hesitated, before tapping his index and middle finger against his own lips.
Oh.
Suddenly, the fact that they had been alone in his dorm room for over an hour and hadn’t been making out the whole time seemed like a great misuse of a Saturday afternoon.
‘Yes,’ Qrow replied unsteadily, whole body feeling electrified as if he’d truly become a bird that had just landed on a live wire. Tai was eyeing his shaking hand uncertainly, so he repeated the acceptance more vigorously, nodding with it.
The blond chuckled with that breathy, huffing laugh of his, own smile trembly with nerves. The bedsprings creaked as he shifted closer, fingers drawing a warm pattern from Qrow’s forehead down to his chin but just scant inches away, he hesitated. It was hard to tell if it was inexperience or jitters making him freeze, but Qrow reached up, hand covering the one on his chin, fingers slipping into Tai’s as he tilted his head and closed the rest of the distance between them.
The first kiss was chaste, their lips slightly winter-chapped but warm, lasting only a few seconds before they were pulling back. Squeezing his hand, Tai pulled his away only to sign ‘again?’. His expression was delightfully starstruck. Qrow grinned, clutching Tai’s sweater and leading him back in.
By the fourth kiss, Tai stopped checking.
By the sixth, a swipe of Qrow’s tongue along his lips had Tai jerking back, eyes wide in surprise, only to eagerly dive in for a seventh.
By the time his sister walked in, he had lost count, too preoccupied by trying to make the blond moan again to keep track.
“Well, aren’t you two disgusting?” Raven said, shutting the door behind her.
He lurched out of Tai’s lap, glaring crossly at her. A moment later, the blond realized she was there too and yelped. The noise was so unexpected it made both of the twins jump.
“Whoa, hey,” Qrow placed a hand on his arm to get his attention. “It’s okay. It’s okay. This is Raven.” He said, carefully fingerspelling her name. He’d practiced it enough, preparing for when he’d introduce them – though, he certainly hadn’t meant for it to be like this.
The panic slowly melted away to understanding, quickly followed by absolute mortification. Still, Tai made the effort to offer her a greeting wave.
The way Raven eyed him, smirking with gleeful smugness, only seemed to increase his intimidation. “Ah, so he does have blue eyes.”
Making a mental note to explain things later, Qrow gave Tai a pitying pat, before turning back to his sister. “Thought you said you were gonna be out.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not sticking around.” Her nose wrinkled, not hard to guess what nasty scenarios she was envisioning. “I just need the keys to the Chevy, then I’m gonna split.” He snatched up the keyring on his nightstand and tossed them her way. She caught them easily, waving as she headed back for the exit, “Have fun!”
He almost just left it at that. Almost.
Instead he called after her, “Where are you going?”
“Draft card burning.”
“Another one?”
Her hand hovered above the doorknob, before slowly pulling away as she turned to him, demeanor predatory in the way she stared him down. “Got a problem with that?”
Raven’s scare tactics had never worked on him before. They certainly weren’t going to now. “Yeah I got a problem with it!” Qrow snapped back, air quoting ‘problem’ for emphasis as he got to his feet, facing her down. “You shouldn’t be going to them. People are getting killed.” When her only response was to roll her eyes, his anger flared. “Raven, I’m serious!”
Her voice rose with his. “And I’m not?! For every one of us shot, ten more of our brothers are being gunned down across the sea!”
“That’s not your problem to solve!”
“No, it’s all of ours, you’re just too oblivious to see it. If you won’t stand with me, then fine!” She stepped forward, snarling in his face, “But you damn well better not stand in my way.”
Even before he responded, he knew what he’d say would be childish; Raven was the only one who made him feel like he had to resort to the tactics of a twelve-year-old. “Oh, I’m oblivious?! You really think anyone’s gonna listen to some stupid girl that thinks handing out a bunch of flowers can stop a war?”
They were about as effective too, because she hardly faltered. “You’ll thank this ‘stupid girl’ when it saves your ass from being next.” A scoff. “Just like always.”
Somehow, that stung. “Don’t act so full of yourself.”
“You know I’m right.” Raven turned away, clearly done with him. “These protests can’t stop until the day our troops are sent home.” She yanked open the door, tossing back at him, “We’re fighting a useless war. And the sooner the rest of the world sees that, the better.”
Then she was gone, nothing left but the snap of the latch catching to echo her departure.
Qrow stood there, fists shaking where they curled tightly at his sides, blood running hot in his veins. So caught up in his turbulent emotions, he almost forgot he wasn’t alone until a warm hand caught his wrist. Looking over, he was met with Tai’s earnest concern. It took some effort, but he managed to relax his hands, enough to sign a quick, ‘Sorry.’
The apology was quickly dismissed, the blond guiding him back to his bed. Both of them sat on the edge. ‘The war?’ The blond guessed, fingerspelling the second word for him.
‘Yeah,’ He replied halfheartedly.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
As answer, Qrow mutely slipped his hand into Tai’s, tangling their fingers into a tight grip.
~
March 30th, 1968
The trunk was popped open, a duffle bag being set down inside. Qrow peeked at it around Tai’s arm, inching his hand towards it.
Smack!
He recoiled quickly, shaking out the imaginary pain.
‘Naughty.’ Tai signed.
He winked back. ‘You know it.’
The trunk was shut before he could make any more attempts, the blond swinging the keyring on his finger as he made his way to the driver’s side of the Chevy. Qrow hopped in on the other side, watching quietly as the other adjusted the mirror and got the car started. Before he put it in reverse though, Tai caught his eye. ‘Nervous?’ He asked.
‘Somewhat.’ Qrow admitted; because really, how would someone go about teaching a deaf guy how to drive anyhow?
His smile was reassuring. ‘Trust me.’
So, he did. Mostly. And if he clutched onto the car door for the first ten minutes of the drive, it was only because the Chevy was getting ricketier with age and certainly did not have anything to do with the violent imagery of death-by-car rolling through his head like a B-grade horror show.
It wasn’t until they hit the highway that Qrow allowed himself to truly relax. Boredom set in soon after and with little else to do, he pulled out his sociology textbook to take the notes he would need for his dissertation on how Darwinist societies were dystopias in disguise. Maybe, when he finished it, he’d mail it off to his mother just to tick her off. Though, he was sure her response would be less about the words on the page and more about the name on the return address.
His lips quirked in a slight smile, knowing if he told Raven she’d cheer him on. Maybe even provide the stamp.
Well, that is, if she would talk to him.
Qrow sighed, trying to focus on the words on the page and not the daunting tension that had leaked into his everyday life. Since the turn of the year, with nothing but the heat of the Battle of Khe Sanh on every channel and the growing violence against MLK’s protestors in every paper, it felt like the entire world was ready spin off its axis. Each daily report only seemed to further his sister’s resolve to act even crazier than the most insane person in an asylum, because now she was considering dropping out of school altogether to go onto some ‘peace-spreading road trip’ across the country. She refused to listen to reason, no matter how much he hollered at her about how she was throwing her future down the drain.
It had been a week since that fight and they hadn’t said a word to one another since. It seemed they’d both concluded that the first one who did was admitting they were wrong; and both of them were surely too stubborn to do that. He wasn’t expecting any apologies; Raven never said sorry to anyone. But the stifling silence between them was dismaying.
It felt like he was losing his best friend, and he didn’t know what to do.
A gentle nudge on his shoulder drew his attention, and he looked up, realizing they were stopped at a light. Tai gestured his way. ‘You alright?’
Qrow smiled. At least he had him. ‘Yes.’ He replied. ‘Just thinking.’
The blond wasn’t fooled for a moment, but let it go with a simple nod and turned his attention back on the road.
The rest of the drive went by without event, though Qrow had some distinct concerns when they turned off the main pathway and started weaving their way up into the network of mountains that bordered the eastern side of Santa Cruz. Once the paving ran out, Tai parked on a level patch of land, signing enthusiastically, ‘We’re here!’ before he jumped out of the car.
They were? When suggesting going on a getaway for the weekend, the man had been rather scarce about the details, wanting to surprise him. Now, as Qrow peered out the windshield at the thick groves of trees all around them, he realized that either they were going camping or Tai had been secretly planning his murder this whole time.
Snorting at his own imagination, he climbed out, heading to the back of the car where Tai was shouldering the bag with ease. ‘Ready for a walk? It’s not too far.’
‘Lead the way.’ He said. Yet, when the blond turned and started to hike into the forest, Qrow found he couldn’t help himself when faced with the other’s shapely backside, reaching out and delivering a teasing smack along the other’s ass.
Tai jumped, emitting a little yelp that had Qrow cracking up. He whirled back around, a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes the only warning before he was sweeping him right off his feet. Surprised, Qrow shrieked before dissolving into laughter, winding his arms across Tai’s shoulders. The blond was grinning brilliantly, leaning forward to capture his lips in a searing kiss that had him humming with pleasant appreciation.
When he was set back on his feet, they headed up the trail together this time, fingers intertwined between them.
Despite it being mid-afternoon, the forest floor was fairly dark, the early hints of spring causing dense overgrowth of the maple and redwood trees and blocking out most of the sunlight to where it could only dapple along the brush they waded through. He could hear the faintest rushing noise of a nearby stream that had likely only just broken through the remaining winter frost. The birds were awake as well, the faint warbles of loon birds and the trills of song sparrows being particularly loud. Just as they were passing over a patch of wildflowers, Tai nudged him excitedly as he pointed out an adolescent deer just before it leaped out of sight. They kept their eyes out for other creatures after that, but other than a few scurrying squirrels, didn’t see anything too outstanding.
It didn’t matter as shortly thereafter, Qrow knew they’d reached their destination when Tai waved him on and sprinted up a sloping ridge. He was a little slower, not entirely trusting himself to not trip, but as he came up over the crest, he was suddenly breathless, uttering nothing more than a soft, “Whoa.”
It was like walking out of realty and into a fantasyland. They were at the edge of a cliff on the mountainside, the land below them nothing but hills full of trees and thickening mist that clung to the valley like a gentle blanket. As he stepped as close as he dared, he looked down, seeing the jagged edges of rock and the sheer drop descending into the fog. Instead of inciting fear, it was freeing, as if he was standing on top of the entire world from here.
‘Beautiful, right?’ Tai signed.
‘Yeah.’ He replied.
‘Wait until sunset.’ He grinned, before walking away, leaving Qrow to take in the sight. A clapping eventually prompted him to turn away though, only to see Tai spreading his arms to showcase the yellow-patterned quilt he’d placed along the ground with its simple lunch of sandwiches, set right in the middle and waiting for them. This was almost like a fantasy too; having a picnic in the mountains. Even as he sat with the other and took his first bite, everything felt so unreal.
‘How did you find this place?’ He asked.
Tai seemed to think over how to answer, before pulling out the notebook and pen they always kept on hand when the signs got too complicated. Before my Volks tanked, I used to drive out as far as I could go. This is one of my favorite places.
There was a line break, and then he continued on a new paragraph. The summer before college started, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. So, I packed up a bunch of my stuff and just started driving. Found a bunch of small towns. Hit up LA, Vegas, the canyons. I think I even crossed the border at one point.
Though he was certain he already knew, Qrow asked, ‘Alone?’
He nodded. ‘I just felt so lost. I thought if I just kept going, eventually I’d find my way.’
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
‘No.’ Tai signed back, expression gentling, ‘I found it when I came back.’
For the second time today, Qrow felt breathless. Awash with sudden boldness, he said, ‘Next time, let’s go together.’
Smile widening, he replied, ‘I’d like that.’
The next few hours were spent exploring the surrounding forest. They hopped across flat stones sticking up above the rushing stream and dared one another to climb up one of the low-hanging oak trees. They kept looking for other animals, which was mostly a bust except for a half dozen different birds. Though, Qrow did happen upon one spectacular find hiding in the roots of a tree that he managed to scoop up into his hands. When he revealed the tarantula to Taiyang, he almost couldn’t stop laughing at the girly scream the other emitted as he jerked back and fell into the brush.
As dusk grew near, they headed back to their spot. They sat near the edge, bundled up together in the quilt to keep away the brisk chill that still came with nightfall. They watched as the sun fell below the horizon, the mist having turned into a dense, rolling fog that seemed soft enough to jump on and hued with the colors reflected in the sky. And as an arm came around his waist, holding him close, Qrow found that he’d never felt so content in his life.
‘Thank you,’ He told Tai later, when night had truly fallen and they were instead laying along the quilt to stargaze.
‘For?’ Qrow had to squint some to read the question, nothing but a battery powered lamp behind them and the moon above left for light.
‘I needed this.’ He turned onto his side to face him more fully as he added, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
As answer, Tai cupped his face in his hand and brought him into a tender kiss, thumb caressing his cheek. After a few moments, he pulled back, but Qrow didn’t let him go far, dragging him into another. Just like that fateful Saturday in his dorm room, and the many, more amazing sessions afterwards, they quickly became drunk on each other. Strong arms hefted him up off the ground, Tai allowing his body to rest atop his own.
Qrow nibbled at a strong jawline, dipping down to suck along his neck and hearing how the other’s breathing grew heavy. He also grew daring, because his hands wandered an unhurried path down his back to the curve of his ass, squeezing. Arousal jolted through him, Qrow burying his head into the other’s collar just to gather himself a moment. When he felt a bit more in control, he lifted his head to look at Tai.
And god, was he beautiful. His lips were swollen and thoroughly kissed, his face lightly flushed and blue eyes dark with passion as he stared up at him. And when they came together again, when Tai moaned softly into his mouth as their tongues tangled, when one hand twisted into his hair while the other still squeezed his ass, Qrow knew with absolutely certainty that he was moments away from ripping off all their clothes and claiming Tai as his own.
So, it took all his willpower to tap his hand along Tai’s arm twice, their personal signal to hold on. The other’s look of confusion was hard to face even as he obediently drew back.
‘Are you alright?’ Tai asked.
‘Yes.’ He sat up, his knees straddling the other’s waist to give them a little space. Qrow’s hands were as nervous as he was, starting and stopping his signs as he tried to find the right way to ask what he needed to. ‘I just – What do you – How… how far do you want to go?’
Again, the answer was given in action, Tai reaching out to capture his hands before slowly, deliberately guiding them down to rest on the buckle of his belt.
Qrow swallowed hard, heart picking up speed. When his hands were freed, he rose one of them. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’ Tai replied and the way he smiled at him, so tender, so fond, was almost too much. ‘I trust you, Qrow.’
An emotion tided through him, so strong and immense, it threatened to overspill from his heart and Qrow couldn’t wait another moment to say it. As his hands moved through the signs, he couldn’t help but speak it aloud as well, even if he’d be the only one to hear it: “Tai, I love you.”
At first, Tai was too overcome to respond, hands hovering in silence between them. Then he was sitting up, and it was only the way he suddenly caught him around his waist that kept Qrow from being pitched right out of his lap. Instead, he was pulled so close it felt like their bodies would meld together and swept up in a kiss so intense he swore he saw fireworks behind his eyes. It ignited his own soul so that even when they pulled back, the intensity was still there, their gazes smoldering as they looked upon one another.
‘Me too.’ Tai reciprocated fervidly. ‘Now, show me.’
And so Qrow did, capturing Tai’s lips once more as he laid him back along the quilt and made love to him under the stars.
~
April 4th, 1968
Qrow would have done anything to have stayed in that fantasyland where society was so far removed it couldn’t touch them and he and Tai could dance along the top of the world forever.
But, they couldn’t.
Eventually, they packed everything up and drove home to the San Fran, going back about their daily lives as they always did.
And, six days later, Martin Luther King was assassinated.
The world fell off its axis and spun out of control.
~
April 6th, 1968
It happened just a half hour before closing.
Qrow, Summer and Tai were the only ones in the shop. After the news had hit, business had stalled, too many people either too afraid to leave their homes or too infuriated that they were rioting in the streets. It was both a blessing and a curse for what came next.
He remembered how it happened so clearly: He was just undoing the notch to the coffee machine to clean the filter for the night, when the thunderous noise of the storefront window shattering filled the air.
Summer screamed, dropping to the floor.
Qrow cursed, bruising his hip against the counter as he lurched back against it, whirling around to see that a third of café rosé was already ablaze. He fell to his knees when another window was broken out, the flames intensifying as a second Molotov cocktail exploded along the floor. He reached out, partially covering Summer’s body with his own, feeling her trembling in fear as she covered her head.
A second scream made his heart drop. “TAI!” He yelled uselessly, only to see the blond vault himself up over the counter before ducking behind it. His eyes were wide with fear, but otherwise appeared to be okay.
But they had to get out of there.
The heat from the fire was already searing, and his voice choked on it as he hauled Summer up off the ground and shoved her towards the exit first. “Come on, the back door!” He pointed as expressively as he could for Tai, who thankfully got the idea and chased after them.
They rushed out of the door, b-lining for the campus rather than the street where the strikes had come from and, when they were far enough away to be both safe from them and the fire, Qrow pushed Summer into Tai’s arms, signing, “Watch her! I’ll get help!” Though pale-faced and wide-eyed, Tai nodded, holding onto the terrified woman tightly. Qrow ran as fast as he could for the nearest telephone, almost pulling out the cord in his panic as he called for the fire department.
No matter how fast he was, there was no saving the shop.
The three of them sat in the grass just inside the police barrier, watching the firefighters fight a losing battle as the flames overtook the roof of the building. The sight had attracted the attention of the whole campus, the entirety of the student body standing in the field to get a look at the tragedy. The officers were doing their best to ward the bolder ones from inching too close.
“What am I going to tell my parents?” Summer sobbed as she twisted the folds of her skirt in her hands. “They poured everything into this place!”
From one side, Tai was just trying his best to comfort her as he rubbed her back.
“Hey now, it, it’ll be okay.” Qrow, on her other, tried as well.
“How?!” She burst out.
He didn’t know. He turned away from her, helplessness weighing him as she continued to cry.
He just didn’t know.
Wanting nothing more than to block out the horrendousness around him, he shut his eyes.
“Qrow!”
Only for them to snap open in surprise, head jerking around to pinpoint the location of that yell.
“Hey lady, you can’t-”
“Get out of my way!”
He spotted Raven just as she was jabbing her elbow into an officer’s ribs, breaking past his guard to rush across the grass. “Qrow!!”
He was on his feet and rushing to meet her instantly, almost being bowled over by the force in which she collided with him.
“You idiot! I thought, I thought!” Her fist slammed into his chest, fighting back tears, “Idiot!!”
“I know, I know. I’m okay though.” Qrow held her tightly, whispering soothingly into her hair. “I’m okay.”
She laughed, the notes strained. “Good. Because you’re not allowed to die until I say so.”
And as he laughed and cried with her, found that for all that was wrong in the world, one missing piece fell back into place and made it just a little more right again.
~
Palo Alto
October 14th, 1981
The first thing that greeted Qrow as he opened the front door to his home was Zwei, the three-year old Corgi yapping hello. “Hey stubby.” He lent down to give him a few affectionate pats, following him through the entryway and into the family room where he could hear the TV running.
Tai was looking much like a yellow roly-poly from the way he was bundled up on the couch in his old quilt. He was watching the screen with rapt attention but when he caught movement in the corner of his eye, he glanced over, brightening immediately. ‘Welcome home!’
‘How are you feeling?’ Qrow asked as he approached, running his fingers through sweat-soaked blond locks. Fever was still going strong then.
‘Furious!’ He signed back harshly. ‘Did you see what Greg just did?!’
He glanced at the TV, realizing a rerun of The Brady Bunch was playing. At the bottom of the screen, the closed captioning was giving the play-by-play of what the characters were saying. The dialogue encoder had been a bit of a strain on their Christmas budget last year (especially when they both still insisted on spoiling their niece and honorary niece rotten), but nothing was worth more than having Tai so overjoyed he was in tears as he swept Qrow up in his arms.
Of course, that also meant that the blond had taken a near permanent residence on the couch as he tried to make up for 35 years of television.
‘You really need to get off the sitcoms.’ He signed to him. ‘Watch sci-fi instead.’
‘Never!’ Tai huffed loudly, only to start coughing, curling up a bit more into his nest.
‘Medicine?’ Qrow asked him once the fit had passed.
‘Please.’
With a nod, he headed into the kitchen. As he poured the cough syrup into the little plastic cap, a jangle of tags told him a shadow had trailed after him. Sure enough, when he looked down, Zwei had his front paws perched on the cabinet door, looking up at him hopefully. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want this buddy.” He joked as he filled a glass with water next. He took pity on the dog all the same, opening the fridge and throwing him a slice of cheese before heading back into the other room.
Though it wasn’t anything even remotely as good as coffee, Tai thanked him all the same, a full-body shudder wracking him as he downed the revolting medicine and chased it with the water. Qrow sat down beside him, leaning back into the cushions. He draped his arm along the back of the couch so the blond could more easily nestle against his side, the two of them watching the rest of the episode together. It wasn’t a very good one, and Qrow found himself zoning out, carding his fingers through Tai’s hair absently as his mind wandered.
“Qrow?”
The croaky, too-soft whisper pulled him out of his trance, and he blinked at the television, realizing the end credits were rolling. He tilted his head to the one who had spoken, not entirely surprised to see his ever-observant partner had already caught onto his sour mood. ‘Sorry.’
‘What’s wrong?’
He shifted back, just enough to free his other arm. ‘Ciel came into class crying today.’
‘Henry?’ Tai guessed, straightening up as well.
He breathed out an irate sigh. ‘Yep. Broke up with her this morning.’
They had both seen it coming from the very first day the couple had joined their ASL class. A vehicular accident had left the petite Hindi woman partially deaf and her doctor had suggested learning sign to help adjust. Tai and he had done their best to give the two some special attention, knowing the transition was hard, but Henry’s participation in the lessons was lackluster at best and Qrow had to keep running interference when the entitled brat kept trying to push Ciel into Cochlear Implants, having to remind them both again and again that it was a high cost, body-blemishing and, most importantly, experimental surgery.
It especially wasn’t worth undergoing it all for a sleaze that wasn’t worth hearing in the first place.
‘What gets me most is his reasoning. Told her it was taking too long to learn.’ Qrow carried on, rolling his eyes. ‘What did he expect? To learn it overnight?! Jackass!’
Amusement gleamed in Tai’s eyes. ‘Not everyone has your patience Qrow.’
‘I’M NOT EVEN PATIENT!’ He replied explosively. Tai reached out, capturing and bringing down his hands, rubbing soothing motions along his knuckles. Every now and again, his finger would catch along the silver ring on Qrow’s right hand; it was one he’d worn for over a decade now, ever since it was given to him by the very same man sitting beside him. It was only a promise ring, but to him, it was as interchangeable as a wedding ring.
His partner’s thoughts must have been somewhere similar, pausing to drop a kiss along the metal band before letting him go to say, ‘You were for me. I’ve never had anyone in my life work so hard to talk to me like you have. That’s always meant the world to me.’
Tai had told him this at least a dozen times before, and Qrow responded in the same, flustered way he always did: ‘Yeah well, how else was I supposed to tell you I love you?’
Instead of teasing him more as he usually did, the blond paused, giving the question some honest thought. ‘Maybe… like this?’
And then, for the second time that day, Tai spoke.
“Love you, Qrow.”
Qrow felt his jaw unhinge, staring back at him in absolute shock as his brain subsequently short-circuited. What?! It had taken Tai years just to be able to say his name as well as he could. When-? How??
With a smile still as full of youth as the day they met, his partner signed, ‘Happy anniversary.’
Qrow sucked in a sharp breath, hardly able to breathe as love sang throughout every inch of him.
And then he found himself tackling Tai down onto the couch, suddenly quite determined to kiss all that love right into him.
The blond managed to fend him off long enough to say, ‘Wait! I’m still sick!’
‘Don’t care. It’s worth it.’ Qrow allowed himself a moment to enjoy the fond way the other looked upon him, before bringing their lips together once more.
Tai would always be worth it.
And if anyone asked Qrow, he’d still tell them patience was for those who couldn’t figure out how to do things quickly.
He’d also tell them it wasn’t patience that one needed when loving someone.
Because patience was a fickle, thin thing too easily broken.
No.
What was needed wasn’t patience; it was perseverance.
The drive to never give in or give up, no matter the strife or uncertainties faced, whether it be several years of vigilant study just to effectively communicate with his deaf partner without need of a pen and paper on hand.
Or, just dealing with a terrible case of the flu come morning.
#qrow branwen#taiyang xiao long#Taiqrow#taiqrowweek#qrow#taiyang#raven branwen#Summer Rose#rwby#fanfiction#Chase Firekitten's Tale
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SEND ME A TOPIC TO WRITE A META ABOUT MY MUSE ON !
meme › accepting !
@alamiras asked: topic : family. #notsorrybutsorry.
@acadamias said: talk about chris and his relationship with mister eyeball chambers :////
family --- the chamberses !
i put it in a post by itself because i knew it would get wordy, & i’ll probably want to reblog it in the future.
gods. i’ve spoken on & off about chris’ relationship with his family ( 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 just to start ), but . . . i have a lot to say, & it’s probably going to be very ineloquent & roundabout. i’ll split it into family member sections because it’s ,,,, probably easier that way. it’s 2,131 words, i think. read at your own risk :/ i’ll have refreshments ready
JOSEPH ‘JOE’ CHAMBERS — FATHER !
‘ chris's dad was always on a ‘mean streak’, more or less; he was a drunk who got welfare off & on – mostly on – & spent most of his time hanging out in sukey's tavern with junior merrill, ace merrill's old man, & a couple of other local rumpots. chris didn't talk much about his dad, but we all knew he hated him like poison. chris was marked up every two weeks or so, bruises on his cheeks & neck or one eye swelled up & as colorful as a sunset, & once he came into school with a big clumsy bandage on the back of his head. other times he never got to school at all. [ . . . ] that was the time mr chambers put chris in the hospital for an overnight stay, when his dad heard chris was suspended, he broke chris's nose & his right wrist. ’
chris ‘hating his dad like poison’ is an understatement ; joe chambers is the single reason chris never drinks ( won’t even take one sip when the despain kids smuggle in some beer to the treehouse ) — chris is terrified of turning into his dad. he knows what the townspeople think of his dad, & he agrees ——– fuckin’ rummy. joe is abusive - physically & verbally -, & doesn’t actively contribute to the family. when he is receiving welfare, he’s spending most of it on alcohol & coming home at two in the morning, looking to use his kids or his wife as a punching bag. off topic, but it’s no surprise that ace merrill turns out the exact same way ( if you replace alcohol with cocaine ), seeing as joe & junior merrill are on pretty chummy terms. similarly, if castle rock tv is to be taken as canon . . . richard ‘ eyeball ’ chambers, too. abusive addicts who are wastes of oxygen, & are as awful as the town they hail from.
everything chris does in life is a direct attempt to not turn out like his father. he’s physically affectionate to his loved ones, he’s encouraging of their pursuits, & he’s smart —- eventually going so far as to actually put that to use. hardworking, determined, ambitious, & looking out for children, chris is the antithesis of joe. unfortunately, years of systematic abuse from both his father & the other townsfolk have really sunk their claws in, & chris spends his entire life ( deep down ) worried that something’s going to go wrong, & he’s still going to turn into his father. it’s always there in the back of his mind, sitting in the pit of his stomach, & he dies still afraid he’s going to turn into joe. the phrase like father, like son makes him feel sick to his stomach. he can’t stand joe, & the second he’s cut from chris’ life, there’s a definite weight lifted from his shoulders.
RUTH CHAMBERS — MOTHER !
‘ other times he never got to school at all. his mom would call him in sick because he was too lamed up to come in. [ . . . ] his mom had gone off to lewiston to stay with her sister, the way she almost always did when mr chambers was on a bender. she went & left eyeball in charge of the younger kids. ’
don’t let chris’ reverence for his mother fool you ——- ruth chambers is a neglectful, emotionally manipulative, emotionally abusive woman who has attempted to foster within chris a sense of co-dependency. she dotes upon him as much as a narcissist can, using chris as a vessel in order to make herself feel better. she has absolutely no issue in abandoning her family when the going gets a little too tough for her, but she won’t let pass an opportunity to make herself look like an angel in chris’ eyes. when joe sent him to the hospital for a night that first time, ruth made sure she was the one holding his hand when he woke up the next morning, his broken wrist in plaster. she’s the one who calls him in sick to school - partially because she knows someone has to, but mostly because she wants him to think she cares enough to keep him home to recuperate & heal.
she’s a religious woman, & even though chris stopped believing in god a long, long time ago, he still very occasionally accompanies her to church with deb, because he knows how much that means to her. ruth, in all her gratefulness, makes sure to let chris know about the things that god considers a sin ( homosexuality, pridefulness, sex for pleasure, sex before marriage . . . ) —— all things that screw chris up during his teen years, & leave him very confused & unsure about who he is for a long time.
he thinks, when he tells her he’s going to college in portland, & she stops speaking to him for three weeks before he leaves, that that’s the worst of it. ruth gets actively upset that he’s leaving ; she sees it as her son abandoning her. she can’t stand the thought that chris has chosen himself over her. he struggles with her lack of communication, & gets upset when the day comes for him to leave & she’s nowhere to be found, but ruth comes around eventually & they talk on the phone about once a week or so ( more, if she decides to call him ), & chris thinks things are back to normal.
it takes him about a year & a half of living away from ruth to tell her his biggest secret ———– that he’s not entirely straight, & if he was upset by her reaction to him moving to college, it’s nothing compared to what happens when he breaks this news. despite having said i love you, baby, always a mere two sentences earlier, chris’ confession is met with thunderous silence, & eventually a curt ‘ well then, you’re going to hell. & i don’t want anything to do with you any more. ’ a few choice derogatory slurs later, & she hangs up on him. when the reality of the situation hits chris about two weeks later, & he cries. true to her word, they never speak again.
but despite that, chris never realises ruth isn’t a good person. he’s so used to physical abuse being his benchmark for what constitutes as abuse, that he never considers the fact that his mother . . . isn’t the angel he’ll always think she is. he sees their relationship as normal, as loving, & is wholeheartedly convinced ruth loves him as much as he loves her - even if her religious beliefs don’t leave much room for him at times.
FRANK CHAMBERS — OLDEST BROTHER !
‘ [ frank ], the eldest, ran away from home when he was seventeen, joined the navy, & ended up doing a long stretch in portsmouth for rape & criminal assault. [ . . . ] like my dad, when frank got thrown into the stockade in portsmouth. that was when he started always bein' mad at us other kids & hitting us all the time. ’
chris was six when frank was thrown in jail. he doesn’t remember much about his brother, but he doesn’t particularly want to. a rapist for a brother ------- chris doesn’t want that. as far as he’s concerned, frank can rot in portsmouth, & that’s more than he deserves. he doesn’t care that that’s when joe starting beating on his family - that’s joe’s problem -, but to think that that is in his family . . . that frank is what chris has every potential to be . . . that people see frank & think chris is going to go the same way . . . it makes him even more determined to ��prove everyone wrong.
RICHARD ‘EYEBALL’ CHAMBERS — OLDER BROTHER !
‘ his brother eyeball had broken his arm in two places & had left his face looking like a canadian sunrise. they had to set the elbow-break with a steel pin. mrs mcginn from down the road saw chris staggering along the soft shoulder, bleeding from both ears & reading a richie rich comic book. ’
it’s funny . . . chris spends his entire life thinking joe’s the one he should be most afraid of, when time & time again it’s shown that richie’s the real antagonist in his story. not only does rich break chris’ arm badly enough that it needs surgery & steel pins, he does it because he & his friends were sore about the brower situation. i’ve argued before that richie very possibly did it to warn chris away from ever saying something as fucking stupid as ‘ 'oh, why don't you go home & fuck your mother some more? i hear she loves the way you do it. [ . . . ] i heard your mother fucks for bucks [ . . . ] in fact, i heard she throws blowjobs for jukebox nickels. i heard -' ’ to someone like ace merrill ( &, in fact, that’s almost what gets him killed ) . . . some kind of twisted family morals thing, perhaps. doesn’t want to see his little brother get killed by his best friend [ SIDE NOTE: SEE HERE FOR AN INTERESTING EYEBALL REACTION ! ]. but there’s also the argument that . . . richie is just like joe, just like frank : a petty abusive drunk who has no issues hitting someone far younger than him to the point of landing them in hospital, & who almost definitely is going to be an abusive husband to a woman of low self-esteem who finds herself easy pickings. he’s a coward just like ace ------ they pick on those they don’t think can fight back, & they get power from it.
chris once said he didn’t hate richie ; once thought richie, maybe, could be saved. that’s long gone out the window, & chris can feel it in his bones that richie’s going to go the same way as frank & their daddy. richie’s a high school dropout who hangs around with ace getting drunk & picking up girls with loose morals & legs.
the older chris gets, the more he realises rich is too far gone, & there’s fuck-all he can do but watch his brother drown in the life he’s made for himself.
SHELDON & EMERY CHAMBERS — YOUNGER BROTHERS !
though they aren’t twins ( there’s a four year difference between sheldon & emery ), i’ve put them together because chris . . . doesn’t differentiate much between them. they may be five & nine respectively ( when chris is twelve, at least ), but he’s already certain how they’re going to turn out ------ just like the other men in his family. they’re rude, aggressive, & violent, expecting their mother to spoil them & then throwing fits when she doesn’t. they also gang up on their sister, & sheldon & chris have gotten into numerous rows before because of their closeness in age & difference in personality.
DEBORAH CHAMBERS — BABY SISTER !
chris loves his sister. maybe it’s because she’s so young & he basically acts as her proxy father, or maybe it’s because she’s the only other woman in the house ( &, consequently, will turn out exactly like her mother, emotional manipulation towards chris & all ), but whatever the case, he fucking adores deb. they’re incredibly close - particularly as they both grow older -, & she’s about seven when he leaves for college. same as with his mother, chris never realises the abusive tendencies in deb, or how she, too, just so happens to dislike anyone he dates because it means she doesn’t have his undivided attention. chris loves deb, & they vaguely stay in contact when possible, even after ruth cuts off contact with him. the contact with deb is changed permanently from then on, though ---- there’s a slight coldness to the way she talks to him, as if blaming him for something that isn’t his fault. it doesn’t help that she likes to hear him apologise to her, either.
#abuse /#child abuse /#rape ment /#violence /#ᴠɪ. — « poor white trash; shanty irish ╱ dyn. chamberses »#ᴠɪ. — « i swear on my mother’s name ╱ dyn. chris / ruth »#ᴠɪ. — « we all knew he hated him like poison ╱ dyn. chris / joe »#ᴠɪ. — « you’re gonna get the tar whaled out of you ╱ dyn. chris / rich »#( i died writing this. )
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i know i requested something last night but i hope it's okay if i have another one, i just love your writing! something like it's junior year and richie saved up for a car so he takes eddie out on a date and it's just super fluffy n cute? thanks sm!
(You can send me prompts anytime!)
~Richie slid until his back was pressed against the back of his car. His car. He smirked and took a warm puff of his cigarette. Sitting at the edge of the El Camino’s bed was Beverly, arm draped over the ledge, sucking on her own cig. She was nodding to herself and staring up at the early sky. “So what do you think?” Richie finally asked.
Beverly licked her lips and rolled her cigarette to the opposite side of her mouth and slid it from her lips to speak. “A little junkie…but you finally got your car Rich!” She jetted her leg out to kick him. Richie couldn’t hold back his grin as he crawled over to sit next to her.
“Yeah my change jar is empty now.” Richie sighed and Beverly chuckled and tilted her head back, cigarette sticking out like a chimney.
“God, the seller must’ve hated you.”
Richie shrugged and rolled his lips together. He hadn’t paid entirely in change but maybe a good chunk. He’d been working his ass off at the shitty drive-thru place to get enough paychecks for it. He started to tap his fingers anxiously against the ledge of the bed. “When are you picking him up?” Beverly asked, shaking her cigarette over the edge. Richie watched the ash fall and flurry to the ground. Richie checked his watch.
“Twenty minutes…you think he knows it’s a date?” Richie asked nervously and Bev laughed again.
“Eddie could possibly be a little oblivious…so be a frickin’ gentleman, or I’ll pound ya.” Beverly unlatched the bed’s door and hopped down, pulling her shorts down. Richie chuckled and puffed his last bit of his dead cig. “Later Tozier.” Beverly called over her shoulder as she shoved her hands into her pockets and traveled down the sidewalk and out of sight.
At her departure, Richie realized the depths of his nerves.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Headlights flooded into the homey, but dead Kaspbrak household. Mrs. K herself was snoring up a storm in their old nearly broken arm chair. Eddie was hoping down the stairs, shoving his foot into his shoe along the way. Off the last step, he landed with both feet on the ground, both shoes on. He hear a distant honk and held back a smile. He quickly threw his front door open and stood on his porch, door shutting softly behind him. Richie was standing outside the car but his arm was reaching inside to honk the horn. “You couldn’t come to the door?” Eddie shouted with a little sass but Richie just hopped over.
“Hey, I’m proud! Isn’t she a beaut’ Eds?”
“She?” Eddie chuckled as he followed Richie to the car. Richie nodded.
“You always call cars she Eds. “ He shrugged and led Eddie to the passengers side. Eddie ducked inside as Richie went back around and got inside on his side, sliding on the bench.
“Ahhh a masculinity thing.” Eddie nodded and leaned back. “I never got the whole, calling cars by girls names.”
Richie turned his body backwards to look out the back window as he pulled out of Eddies driveway. “Would you drive a car named Horrice, Eddie?” he chuckled and Eddie shook his head with a smile.
“Yeah cause every guy name is ugly. It just makes it seem like you’re in a relationship with your car. Why does it have to have a name anyway?”
“Well Eds, I’m as gay as the day is long so you shan’t worry about me dating my car just because she’s a girl.” Richie threw the comment casually and it made Eddie freeze, arms clenched in his lap. “And I guess any name can be used for either a boy or a girl, is a name specific-?”
“You’re gay?” Eddie finally squeaked and interrupted Richie. Said boy, turned his head as he pulled to a stop at the stoplight, the red light fuzzing in his peripheral vision. He licked his lips and shrugged.
“Yeah. You didn’t know that?” Richie chuckled awkwardly and scratched his chin, thankful that driving gave him an excuse not to look at his friend. “That makes this date a lot more awkward then I planned.”
“This is a date?!” Eddies voice squeaked again and Richie felt his stomach drop slightly, he’d been fearing that he hadn’t been as straight forward as he’d thought he was being when he asked Eddie out.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be. But I mean that’s what I intended when I asked you to have dinner with me…. alone, Eds.” Richie gave him a look. Eddie shook his head.
“We hang out alone all the time, how was I suppose to know the difference?” Eddie frowned as Richie pulled into the lot of some Dairy Queen that looked over some small body of water. He pulled backwards into a space with focus.
“Well for one, When you said yes, I said, ‘Good it’s a date!’ “ Richie laughed and parked the car, turning his body to Eddie.
“I thought that was just a weird joke of yours, you do that all the frickin’ time, Rich.” Eddie rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat as Richie jetted his hand out to change gears. Eddie glanced up with a small worried expression. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Richie shrugged. “Taking you back home….” He looked at him as if it was obvious. “I mean, you’d rather be there then on a date with me, right?”
Eddie bit his lip and eventually shook his head with a wide smile and opened his car door. “I’m expecting you’re paying then right?”
Richie grinned. “I am a gentleman, Eds!” He hurried after him and into the Dairy Queen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite that the intention was dinner, Richie and Eddie had left the joint with two blizzards and fries to share. They sat in the El Camino’s bed, looking over the small body of water. The radio was going on quietly in the background with the windows rolled down. “So, hows the date?” Richie asked with a small grin and Eddie blushed, stabbing his spoon into his frozen treat.
“Fine, for having it be with such a trashmouth.”
Richie put on a smug grin “Hey, I’ve been a good boy.” He chuckled and dipped a fry into his blizzard.
“For now, maybe.” Eddie smiled and kicked Richie’s leg. Richie took it as a good time as any to scoot closer, and set his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. The smaller boy looked up with probably the single most adorable smile Richie had ever seen in his life. “How’d you know I was gay?”
Richie set down his blizzard. “Didn’t. I just winged it. I thought you saying yes was a good sign but figuring in the fact that you didn’t know this was a date…” Richie trailed off and looked at the smaller boy under his arm.
“I think the answers pretty straight forward now, isn’t it?” Eddie asked with a expectant smile as he sat comfortably under Richie’s arm.
“I think its the opposite of straight forward, Eds.” Richie chuckled and Eddie shoved him to his left with laughter he couldn’t hold back. Their laughter calmed down and Richie scratched his nose.
“Y’know I saved up all my nickels and dimes for tonight.” Richie looked down at Eddie who looked confused. “The car, I mean…I saved up for the car so I could take you on a real date.” Richie stumbled slightly on his words and Eddie blushed.
“You didn’t have to do that to get me to go on a date with you, Richie.”
“Well you didn’t even willingly agree to this one, so I wouldn’t know how to get you on one, would I?” Richie poked Eddie teasingly, Eddie slapped his hands away with a small smile.
“Just fuckin’ be there, Tozier and I’ll be there too. cause God help me, I enjoy your company and would very much like to go on as many dates as you have to offer.” Eddie pinched him and Richie giggled.
“Ok, would you like to go out again tomorrow night…as a date?” Richie spoke the last word slowly and carefully inflected it just to tease him.
Eddie shook his head. “Yes, you dipshit.” He flicked his red spoon at him and Richie stuck out his tongue.
The date ended up better then Richie could’ve planned it.
#my fanfiction#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#the losers club#bill denbrough#mike hanlon#beverly marsh#ben hanscom#stan uris#finn wolfhard#jack grazer#Stephen kings IT#IT by stephen king#itmovieofficial
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hi there, i’m el. i’m 20 and from the cst timezone. i really love htgawm and my one true love tyler hoechlin. below the cut you can get to know this cutie ellie hampton. just so you know, lowkey super shy so id love for people to drop into my ims but yanno if you like this i will do my best to come to you.
( katherine mcnamara / 22 / she,her ) is that ( ellie hampton ) ordering a ( dirty chai latte ) at mocha? i heard they’re a ( student/intern ) who’s known as the ( bellwether ) around here. however, they say ( ellie ) is very ( friendly ), but ( opinionated ). well, better get their drink before it gets cold! ( el / 20 / she,her / cst )
Headcannons:
summer nights/first love: ellie spent most of her summer nights with family and friends in her dad’s back yard. the nights always included movies projected on the side of the house, food, drinks, sparklers and of course bubbles for the kids. one of these cute little nights at her family’s bbq, ellie met a boy who completely stole her heart. they dated for the longest time. almost all of her high school years. they had a bad break up around junior year since he was a year older than she was and he was ready to move onto bigger and better things. (wanted connection)
an empty piggy bank: ellie remembers this day vividly. the day her father told her he couldn’t afford to pay for her art lessons anymore. after all, art lessons aren’t a necessity. ellie had saved up every penny she ever earned as a kid. pennies turned to nickels, then dimes and quarters and eventually into different dollar amounts. she had her whole savings in that piggy bank. ellie was certain she was destine to do something with art. she just needed to find what she loved most and if taking art lessons and classes would get her closer to that, then shed sacrifice her savings for that. ellie began taking little by little out of her piggy bank to start paying for her own art classes. that’s not the only thing to empty it. she got her big break, or so she thought . she had the opportunity to show some of her art designs, some of the best sketches she’d ever done, but it was going to cost her. she had to pay her way to LA and pay for her hotel and other things. she ended up tanking the meeting and scrounging up what was left to get home. instead of giving up, ellie continued to work on her sketches and fashion designs
now: now ellie is attending school and getting her degree, but on the side, she works as an intern for one of her favorite fashion designers. balancing her time management is still hard, but somehow ellie manages the best that she can.
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