#it’s such a historic circuit I’m sorry I love her
Note
OKAY SO I’VE BEEN MIA BC I JUST FINISHED GRAD SCHOOL AND I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO READ THE LAST SEVERAL CHAPTERS. I’M BACK AND HOLY SHIIIIIIIIT BRO.
Okay I’m only going to go into ch 14 for all our sakes lmao. Having Neymar come with Ky to pick Taylor up from the airport is everything that healed my little heart. I know I’ve said it before, but her relationship with Ney is just the most wholesome and I love it. “Man, just kiss already. You can cut the tension with a knife.” She laughed, embarrassed at herself and leaned on Kylian’s shoulder, hiding herself. Like this encapsulates everything I love about this trio. The safety they both feel in being open in front of Ney is just **chefs kiss** to me. Surprising her with Leo, Ramos, and Kimpembe has me squealing like a child, but the real star of the show is Taylor’s reunion with Luna. My god I love this kitty.
The conversation between her and Verratti was perfectly awkward. Like we know he feels bad about how everything went down and like…he absolutely should and I love that Taylor made him squirm a bit. It’s exactly why I love Taylor as a character-her stubbornness and intensity is both her gift and downfall, but god when she uses it for her benefit it just makes me so happy.
“What about short term?” he mumbled to her lips, giving it a light bite.“You” she said in a quick breath
OKAY RIP ME WOW.
I’m conflicted about Galtier’s offer with the youth league. Because on one hand, I love that it would allow her to stay coaching in a sense, be close to Kylian and the rest of the boys, but I also remember how much she hated the whole system of how players are treated. “You can hep us build the foundations” like homie that’s not how this works….but okay. TYPICAL KY GETTING IN HIS HEAD THAT SHE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT HIM. CHRIST ON A STICK KYLIAN GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS. Their argument in the car is easily my favorite bit of writing thus far. It’s so fucking hilarious and on brand for the two of them to confess these big emotions while arguing like this and all while Taylors driving for the first time here lmao.
“I did not make a pause! My lips are still moving—you cut me off—and for you information it’s the kind of logic that I can find other teams like psg, psg is replaceable—you are not!” she stopped the car abruptly in front of a red light, Kylian moving a little forward. Silence. Just the car sounds filling the emptiness. He looked at her in awe, he wanted to kiss her right there and then.
Like I’m sorry WHAT!!! OW MY HEART I LOVE IT. “psg is replaceable-you are not!” That just causes me goosebumps because it really shows the depth of her feelings.
They’re finally happy. Like finally. I’m glad she took the job, but I worry that her reservations from the past assistant coach job will resurface and she’ll be unhappy again. ugh.
Him referring to her has his girlfriend for the first time…oof. She’s better than me because I’m pretty sure my brain would short circuit and an Error 404 message would just pop up lmao. Like they were building new routines together that weren’t involving only their bodies but their hearts too. Domestic fluff like this shit is what I liiiiiiiive for.
(K about to get sentimental and shit for a sec) Kylian speaking to the medics about her condition…this hit home. As someone who lives with a chronic illness that affects literally every aspect of how I’m supposed to live my life I really connect with Taylor in this capacity. It’s so hard to explain a version of life that is so drastically different than what is considered “normal” to others. I’m sure Kylian is wildly frustrated by her lack of sharing, but when you historically have to be the only one you yourself can rely on for shit, it’s hard to share that burden onto someone else…especially if you love them because you never want to give your shit to someone else. But that’s what she does. That quick little peck and “good to know you want to share it” from Kylian may have seem like such a throw away moment, but as someone who’s lived Taylors experience with this, it means everything. (K done with gross feelings now MOVING ON)
Of course I knew you were going to write Ney getting hurt…but god fucking dammit it hurts. Ney really feels like her family. Her brother. And hearing both Ky and Ney say “I’m tired” in the context they are saying it, I just know it’s breaking her heart. It’s back to the reason she hated the higher ups in the coaching gig again. No respect for the players. But I fear this will just add fuel to her flame hatred of how these players are being treated.
“He’s gonna need you.” “I know.” Neymessi going strong.
Ooooooooooooh apartment conversations happening….I was wondering if I missed the memo of them officially living together but here we go lol.
AGH HER GRIPE WITH COACHING STAFF COMES UP AGAIN. Taylor thank god you’re telling him the legit ruth and not sugar coating shit….where’s Taylor in real life because homeboy needs to hear this shit. AND SHE’S DONE WITH PSG. I FUCKING KNEW IT. DID I NOT CALL THIS. OH GOD BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR THEM?! OH NOOOOO.
Awwww the key. The keeeeyyyyy.
The conversation between Ky and Leo is perfect. Truly no notes. We love Uncle Leo in this house. “That part had it’s pleasure, but you can break records anywhere Kylian.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his head “it’s who you break them with that makes it special.” I feel like this is then counterintuitive to the dilemma…idk yet I haven’t fully formed that thought yet.
LILY IS THERE. OH MY GOD TAYLOR AND BETH. AHHHH. I love Ky and lily’s dynamic its so stinking cute. I can only imagine how that looked to the others though hahaha. Like some random little girl none of them have ever seen comes crashing into Kylian and he’s like so chill about it. I’m sure they thought he’s like lost his head or something hahaha. Oh interesting dynamic with Ethan and their dad. I’m intimidated by him. Did not expect him to extend that invitation to Taylor and her family…is this just me being suspicious? I’m not fully trusting it yet…
….british phone number….her leaving the youth league job….CHELSEA?! 😳
Okay that’s what I’ve got. God I’ve missed reading this fic and I’ve loved catching up with the past few chapters. Still the best fic I’ve ever read, hand to god. Mkay thats all ILYSM 😘
AAAAAAH I MISSED YOUUUUU
When readers disappear i get so worried they've given up 😭😭😭 I'm so happy you're still here!! YOUR NOTES ARE THE BEST AND YOU ALWAYS TAKE SO MUVH OF YOUR ENERGY IT MAKES ME MELT😭😭😭😭
I hope the final chapter will leave you satisfied 🥺
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Monaco might be boring as a race but it has this air of specialness that literally no other circuit can replicate there’s something about her….
#god can’t the tax evaders fund it a little bit more??#it’s such a historic circuit I’m sorry I love her#plus. quali c’mon best quali ever (after monza 19 shenanigans that was fun)#:( I LOVE history and the historical stuff f1 has got going on is part of what makes it so good
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Congratulations on 200 followers! If possible, #7 and #34 for your blurbs request. Thank you.
Personal Librarians
Summary: Someone actually took Spencer’s recommendation for once and it was you.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 0.6k
A/N: this is from my 40 prompts! i’m still accepting requests because this sort of morphed from a 200 follower celebration to a 250 lol. also, i just started a taglist! send an ask or comment below to be added!
Masterlist
It started off with the simplest but most unexpected gesture.
“I read that book you recommended,” you said, walking up to Spencer.
“Hm?” Spencer furrowed his brow, sipping his coffee as he looked up at you, “Oh, Y/N! Hi!”
Spencer couldn’t believe you remembered the one brief conversation you had with him, let alone read the whole nearly 400 page book.
“The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot,” you reminded him because he probably had more pressing things to remember than your small talk in the elevator.
“You know I was a little hesitant at first because it’s a lot of science but I actually very much enjoyed it. I think the writer did an amazing job of tracking down all of Henrietta’s friends and family to make sure her side of the story was finally told,” you spoke.
“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer was trying to focus on the words you were saying but he was still wrapping his head around the fact that you had come to his desk to talk to him.
He soon realized you were waiting for him to respond as an awkward silence filled the room.
“Sorry, you probably have work to get done,” you smiled softly, “any more recommendations are welcome though. You know my email or where to find me.”
You exited the bullpen with a polite wave, returning back to the fifth floor where you worked. Spencer slammed his head on his desk when he realized he said exactly 5 words to you.
Do better, Spencer. You’ll be lucky if she ever comes up here again after what you just pulled, he thought to himself.
-
The next morning, you approached your desk to find a paper bag, a coffee, and a book with a note taped to it waiting for you.
Keeping with the theme of things you probably thought you would never like, ‘The Things They Carried’ by Tim O’Brien is historical fiction.
-Spencer
Not that he even needed to sign the note, you could recognize his adorable little chicken scratch from anywhere.
You opened the bag to find a blueberry muffin inside, you smiled. How did he know that was your favorite?
-
Spencer was surprised to find a huge stack of books waiting for him when he arrived at work the following day.
I know these are probably way below your reading level but I saw these and thought of you. I used to love these books as a kid. The Series of Unfortunate Events is a little dark and twisty and keeps you on your toes but it isn’t too scary! Enjoy!
-Y/N
Behind the stack of books was a cup of coffee that had “extra extra sugar” written on the side in sharpie and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, he smiled. How did you know that was his favorite?
-
You heard a knock on your office door the next week.
“I’m almost done with the file, I promise!” you threw Spencer’s book into one of your desk drawers and picked up a pen, opening the file in front of you for the first time.
“I just came to return these,” Spencer smiled.
“Oh, thank god, it’s just you,” you pulled the book out of the drawer and opened it back up.
“You like it?” he asked.
“Last chapter,” you smiled, showing him the few amount of pages you had left.
“I finished the whole series on the jet ride home from the case we just got back from,” Spencer explained.
“I would love to hear your opinions over coffee, perhaps a donut and muffin too,” you smiled softly.
“I-Yeah-I can do that,” Spencer was short-circuiting because you had asked the question he had been hyping himself up to ask you for the past 20 minutes.
“Great! Saturday? Bring me a new book please!”
“Of course,” Spencer beamed.
“Don’t worry,” you patted your desk drawer, “I’ve already got another series ready for you.”
taglist: @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth

#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#reid x reader
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no matter the weather
Author’s Note: hate and/or phobic attitudes/behaviors ≠ tolerated. If aforementions apply to you, then pls and ty gtfo. 🙃
no matter the weather
Agatsuma Zenitsu x Reader
Word Count: ~1,900
CW: misgendering, Nb!Reader
Request Fulfilled: Please do a zenitsu x nb reader coming out 🥺 I love your work btw!
~faqs~
Okay okay okay
Addressing the elephant in my brain
I feel… awkward, writing this 😶
Like, not a bad awkward
But like a… I’m-hyper-aware-that-I’m-she/her-identifying awkward ??
I just don’t want to generalize the intimacy of coming out
That being said, some of my friends/mutuals are nonbinary
Not to imply that I fully comprehend being nb just bc “oh whoop dee doo you know nb ppl”
Anywho
Basically I want to do this prompt justice
While being conscientious that I’m she/her identifying
Additionally: I likely would not tackle this subject if it wasn’t specifically requested
i.e. I would naturally consider writing Reader coming out as bisexual, bc I am bi; I would not naturally consider writing Reader coming out as nb, bc I am not nb
Zenitsu fawns over pretty
Natural, man made, tangible, intangible, and pertaining to humans
Maybe also pertaining to demons ?? Bc daaayum some of them do be pretty 👀
Let’s not go there atm LOL
So the first time he meets you
In a clearing in a forest — it’s pouring 🌧 btw bc why not ?? #vibes he’s lowkey lost
Even tho you’re battered, bloodied, bruised, and soaked to the bone
You’re an adept swordsman and member of the Demon Slayer Corps yourself tyvm
(so I actually researched the word “swordsman” for another fanfic bc I wasn’t sure how to make it gn—gender neutral, and apparently its historically acceptable/common to refer to anyone capable of wielding a sword as a “swordsman” 🤓)
All he can focus on is how pretty you are
Nobody looks pretty after slaying demons
Except for you ?? Whoever you are ??
He tries to introduce himself
But do y’all recall how he gets when he’s around pretty ??
Man cannot, does not, will not, function at 100% — maaaybe 63%, but that’s being generous
“Hiiiii,” he garbles
You’re unimpressed, albeit, flattered
“Wait, wait, wait,” he panics as you raise an eyebrow, “I’m Agatsuma Zenitsu!”
Okay
“I’m [y/n],” you’re curt
This man’s drooling 🤤
Like whaaat
Your eyes are pretty
Your hair is pretty
Even your bloody nose is pretty 🤭
And now your name is pretty too ??
How unfair that he can’t even act non creepy
What w/ you short circuiting his neurons’ feeble attempts to fire properly
“How should I address you?” he’s desperate to pay his respects
He knows you’re not a Hashira; not -sama or -sensei
But are you -san?
-chan?
Can he say just [y/n] like he says just Inosuke and Tanjirou?
Let me tell you rn
He’s clinging to the meager control he has left to not call you [y/n]-chan
—I’ve done a ton of Japanese honorific research (I suspect my Japanese honorific research will never end), and basically -chan expresses that the speaker finds the person endearing… akin to calling someone “babe” within 1 minute of knowing them (assuming a I’m-attracted-to-you context)
Like, y’all just met
He’s not aiming to get slapped
But he’s def already daydreaming about singing [y/n]-chan, [y/n]-chan, [y/n]-chan as y’all frolic in some flowering meadow or whatever 💀
Wrong question
“I said, I’m [y/n],” you’re… steely
Still pretty
But sharp
He gulps
Doesn’t shout again as you begin walking away
I mean, I guess it’s cool that she’s comfortable going by first name ??
Took a while to get there w/ Inosuke and Tanjirou
Yup, uh huh, that’s it 😮💨
You’re just super chill! 🤗
Man’s down bad
And lost
Hopelessly lost
It’s still pouring
Riperoni Zenitsu
The second time you meet is at the Butterfly Mansion
He’s doing okay surprisingly
You? Not so much
Your arm and leg are fractured
Opposing arm and leg
Author makes the rules, sorry not sorry, the visual of that is too funny
Neither are severe, and mostly due to being overworked (jumping from rooftop to rooftop and falling constantly to the ground can’t be that good for your health altho obvi anime makes it look awesome)
That being said
You’ve received stern warnings, multiple stern warnings, about the importance of resting
“They’re stress fractures at the moment, but you want to be able to use that arm and that leg eventually, right?” Shinobu had admonished you in her cheerful, slightly very passive aggressive tone
“Yes Kocho-sama,” you’d grunted
And then seconds later… “Oh no, no, no- Kocho-sama… ??”
“[y/n]?!”
Agatsuma Zenitsu 😒
“Agatsuma-kun,” you greet him cheekily
He blanches
“You can’t be that much older than me!”
You laugh quietly
And he melts, oozes, gooey
“Fine,” he mumbles, “You can call me whatever’ll make you laugh that like.”
“You’re uninjured,” you observe, “So why are you here?”
“I was injured, and now I’m just waiting for a new mission.” She’s talking to meeeee !! 😍
“I’m thirsty.”
He blinks
You blink
And then there’s a glass of water being held out to you
Wow
“Thunder Breathing?”
He nods Please be impressed, please be impressed, please be impressed
You’re a little impressed, grabbing the glass
“Thank you.”
“Sooo tell me about yourself ??” he tilts his head Is this him being cute? 🧐
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Chores? Training?” you mutter
“I can take care of you!” he’s enthusiastic Irritatingly, enthusiastic
“I can manage.”
“But I’ll make things easier!”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
That deflates him, but not by much
“Would you like me to find Aoi-san and-”
“No,” you grit your teeth, “You, are giving me a headache. Which means you, should go.”
He’s crestfallen
But fear not! Zenitsu perseveres 😤
“I’ll join you for lunch, then?”
You audibly growl
“It’s a date!” he grins, ignoring you
“You better bring extra seaweed crips,” you hiss
So sue me, resting is boring
And his persistence is… charming persistent?
“You can’t hang out with me forever,” you smirk fondly
He pouts
Somehow, Zenitsu’s kept you company for almost an entire week
You occasionally catch yourself thinking My water boy bc srsly — he gets you whatever you ask for, the second you ask for it
Before remembering that he’s supposed to annoy you
Which, he does
But
He’s also…
Interesting ??
An open book
If you’re curious, then he’ll answer
“Why does your hair look like—that?” you gesture vaguely
He blushes, “As in, its color, or its messiness?”
If you lean in as Zenitsu proceeds to tell about his encounter w/ ⚡️🌩⚡️, then he doesn’t mention it
Which is tactful of him
Bc you would’ve kicked him out 🦵💥
Literally
It’s not like both of your legs are on bedrest
“[y/n]…” he’s tentative
“Hm?”
“What’s your favorite weather?”
“Depends on what I’m doing.”
He stares expectantly
🙄
You cave
“On missions, partially cloudy. Less exhausting to fight in a moderate temperature, and an ideal amount of light.”
Zenitsu is thrilled by the details you’re providing *dreamy sigh*
“In general… I appreciate when the weather matches my mood. It’s frustrating when I’m content inside but it’s dreary outside, or when I’m sad inside but it’s rainbows and butterflies outside.”
And then you just, stop
That’s it 👏
That’s the [y/n] info sesh for the day
He gets the message, doesn’t push it
Giggles and waves at you as he leaves
“Tell me more tomorrow?”
Your silence is… more soothing, than usual
So he goes ahead and interprets that as a resounding YES
😬
“What’s your favorite fruit?”
Zenitsu sits at the end of your cot
He’s totally inched closer and closer to you throughout the week
Initially he’d just stood
Until you’d realized he was determined to continue standing
So you’d clenched your jaw and told him to Just get a chair
His excitement had not been subtle
“Nikkori.”
(Nikkori = type of Japanese pear)
“So big and juicy.” 😋
You glare at him
Hard
—I 💗 innuendos hehehe
“When will you quit bothering me?”
You’re not as harsh anymore
Even you can hear the difference
“When will I be able to address you as [y/n]-chan?” Zenitsu quips, winking boldly
He flicks a switch he didn’t even know existed
Lights out
“Out.”
“Huh?” he’s dismayed, “What did I-” he protests weakly, shriveling rapidly
Why is she suddenly dismissing me?! Look at me… look at meee…
You don’t look at him
If this were a game of stubbornness, then you’d win
But it isn’t a game of anything
“Out.” 😦
Tail tucked between his legs, he gets off your cot
Glances timidly at you
Nothing 😕
There’s nothing on your face even hinting that you might like, want, need him to defy you
So
He doesn’t
The next time he sees you
In another clearing in another forest ?? Let’s assume it’s sunny ☀️ this time bc you’ve suffered enough
He’s still lost tho
He’s… apprehensive
You’re as pretty as ever
That glow in your eyes? 👌
Your hand painted haori? 👌
How warm your gaze is? 👌
He only wishes it was directed toward him
But he hasn’t figured out how exactly he screwed up 😓
“Zenitsu asked to call her [y/n]-chan?!” — Tanjirou
“IDIOT !!” *insert howling here* “AHAHAHA HE’S GOING TO PERISH ALONE.” — Inosuke
“That was quite forward of Agatsuma-kun!” — Shinobu
“How flashy! A shame it went poorly!” — Tengen
“Aww how adorable! My fingers are crossed for Agatsuma-kun!” — Mitsuri
“Hm.” *insert shrug* “That’s unfortunate.” — Giyuu
“Agatsuma-san.”
…
“Agatsuma-san.”
You startle him from his pity party
Wide eyed, he points at his chest
Me? She’s addressing me?! Meeeee!
Dude: there’s just two ppl in the clearing—you, and them 😐
Poor guy nearly trips moving closer to you
“I’m sorry for discomforting you! I overstepped.”
You’re amused
“I promise to call you [y/n] or [y/n]-san!”
You snort
“I miss answering your questions and you sometimes answering mine,” he sucks in a deep breath, “And I’m glad you’re back to normal!” he freezes, “I mean, you’ve always been normal! But you’re healed now too!”
You laugh quietly
His favorite laugh
“Zenitsu-san.”
—When I tell you his heart flip flops
—It’s doing round off back handspring full twisting doubles 🤸♂️
“I owe you an apology.”
He gapes at you
Jaw noticeably dropped
Starts stammering an objection, but you interrupt him
“What was the first question you asked me?”
“How should I address you?” he squeaks
—FYI
—Zenitsu hasn’t forgotten a single second, minute, hour of your time spent together
—Everything about you is #longtermmemoryworthy
“That isn’t an easy question for me,” you smile wryly
“Oh?” he’s confused
“How do you… imagine, me?” 😳 “Not like that.” 😅 “Am I… masculine? Feminine?”
Maaan he’s sweating bullets
How tf is he gonna answer politely ??
“Um,” he swallows, “You’re… pretty?”
Aaand now you’re sweating too
“Thank you, Zenitsu-san. More precisely though… why did you ask to call me [y/n]-chan?”
He’s connecting the dots
“Would you prefer [y/n]-kun?”
You chuckle, “I’d rather [y/n]-san or simply, [y/n].”
The corners of his mouth downturn abruptly
“Zenitsu-san?”
Dread swims in your stomach
Ambient noise ringing dissonant in your ears
I guess I can’t stay pretty forever
Your nervous grasp on your haori tightens
Bracing to depart — bracing to flee
“[y/n],” he chokes out
You refuse to look at him
“[y/n],” he whispers
“I’m ashamed,” he exhales raggedly
“I’m ashamed that I made this… so, difficult. For you.”
You let go of your haori
Dumbfounded
“I’m happy to address you however you’d like. I’m happy to imagine you however is most comfortable. For you.”
He’s… soft
How he looks
How he stands
How he waits
“You’re pretty,” he murmurs, “No matter the weather,” he cups his palms out to you
Sunshine
For them
You mime putting something in your pocket
He laughs
Elated
Exuberant
Enthralled
You laugh
His favorite laugh
Quiet
For him
#zenitsu agatsuma#agatsuma zenitsu#zenitsu x reader#agatsuma x reader#headcanons#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer
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The Little Mechanic
Childe x female mechanic reader
Prologue
A mechanic from Snezhnaya reunites with a childhood friend.
AN; The prologue is a bit confusing since two stories were told at the same time; I did that to make it more interesting and wanted a flashback with your fellow companion. Also, this is my first story that I'm playing around with, so some parts might change, but that really depends.
word count; 1,328
Unedited
The cold misty morning nipped your skin as the sound of chirping played their familiar melody. Huffing, you leaned forward, gripping the straps of the hefty leather backpack. On the right side of your hip, dangling proud, was the purple electro vision swaying back and forth with your steps. Liyue ruins were bizarrely calm at this hour, with the lack of destruction from the Fatui or the abyss order itching to kill whoever was there. Only nature at its finest reclaiming territory. Grinning, you leaped the last couple of steps; to be greeted by the vast land of mountains as the wind dance around you.
Liyue was definitely different from Snezhnaya.
Instead of the endless snow from Tsaritsa, Rex Lapis gifted Liyue with beautiful forms of rocks, along with historical battles hidden deep in these ruin lands. Anyone greedy for riches only dares to explore these areas, but not you. The badge of a hammer stitched on your newspaper cap tells a different story. You were just a nameless mechanic shooting your shot in a bustling nation. Though not everything comes cheap. Living accommodations were hard enough to pay, but haggling for overpriced supplies was another finance. Besides, why waste time on that when the remains of an old society are available for you to seize.
"Must we walk all this way?" Wheezing, a little blue mage pushed himself to the last step. Leaning forward, the wand in his hand carried half of his weight as he pants in exhaustion. "Sorry, but you know how badly I want to see the view," you spoke. Unclasping your bag from your back, you handed him a bottle of water. "stay hydrated, midget" "I can't have you dying on me now, or I'll have to drag you back to the inn. "
"I hate you."
You smiled at his words as he chugged the remaining drops of water. Meeting Gever was an accidental blessing. Aside from being a full-time mechanic, once in a while, you did some odd commissions from the adventures guild to earn a quick buck, like Lan's request to locate the unseen razor or typically clear out a hilichurl camp. After a yet failed attempt searching for the sword, you witness a hoard of abyss mages hovering over a chest. Doing their usual chants, and rituals one particular was chanting away from the group. How odd.
What was more abnormal was that it didn't have a shield to protect itself. His steps were also off from everyone else; somehow, though, he manages to keep up. Deciding it was time to leave, a blonde-headed girl trek towards them while catching their attention. Startled, they all pointed their wands in her direction, preparing her demise. Throwing shards of ice and water at her, she began her attacks with boulders of rocks as her protection. That abnormal abyss mage watched from its spot. Its body trembles at the sight of its comrades meeting their faith. Suddenly he ran, his little legs pushed forward to your direction, not knowing another human was there, instantly slamming into you.
"Stay back, or I'll hurt you" it pointed the end of its wand at you.
"Hey, greasy! You lost your hearing?" snapping out of your daze; you looked at your companion approaching. "Seriously though, it would be better leaving me back in the inn so that I can be safe from everyone," Gever complained. "If I did, then who else can help me carry all of the chaos circuits?" "Maybe that Guhan nerd?" he grumbled, kicking a pebble out of annoyance.
"He'll bother me with questions and bring that exorcist with him; I can't add more baggage when you fill the entire bag." "And beside the inn will probably send me to the millelith for hosting a little fugitive." "Let's just get this over and done with." sighing, he trek ahead of you, with his shoulder sagging. You followed behind, shaking your head at his actions.
"Hurt me?" crossing your arms; you stared at the abyss mage with boredom. "Don't take this as a joke, you-you stubborn weakling!!!" the mage stomped his feet on the ground, gripping tightly on the staff. "If I remember correctly? I'm not the one who ran away from battle" "Well, uh, because I'm not prepared to fight" "Alright."
You shrugged and turned around from the harmless being and began your journey back to Liyue. "W-wait!" he cried. Dropping on his knees, he wailed, "I know I shouldn't trust a stranger, but also a human. I'm just weak and extremely terrified of being alone." "If you can tell, I can't create a shield, and my chants are weak against a slime nevertheless a magicless civilian." staring back at the field of destruction, the young adventurer stood triumph looting the chest the mages possessively guarded. The fight was an exciting show, especially how a visionless traveler was able to use the power of Geo, but it was the way she played with bladed caught your attention. It wasn't the skill she controls that scared you. Instead, it was the locked-up memories from the past that resurfaced.
The afternoon fell on you and Gever, and the entire time, the little mage complained.
"My feet hurt" "I'm not carrying you."
"Can we take a five-minute break?" "We had one a minute ago."
"Just to let you know, I can't use any cool spells to protect us" "Yes, you told me this before we left."
Shaded under a sunsettia tree, both of you were sitting outside the abandoned laboratory munching on the fruit. The ruins in front of you were notorious for their scrapes and the abandoned research lab for the eleventh harbinger Dottore. The fluid of a sunsettia landed on your blue overalls as you stared at the entrance. Something wasn't right. Signs of other lives indicated you and Gever wouldn't be exploring alone. The path had fresh shoe prints of not only two adults but also a child. If you also look close to the doorway, it was slightly ajar.
"let's go," adjusting the backpack on your shoulders. You helped Gever on his feet as he started his new list of complaints. "Are you sure I should go in? What if a ruin guard squishes me?" "Then I'll replace you with Xingqui" "You are a cruel mechanic." He stuck to your legs as you entered the domain. Whoever was here definitely assist you in lighting the area. Vines covered the walls, with the occasional branches hampering your path. Sounds of the machinery moved in beat, stopping every second only to start again. Once in a while, you pause to loot crates digging for good resources. It was the sound of laughter that made you froze. "We're gonna die!!" Gever, he exclaimed in a whisper. His grasp on your leg tightens much more, frantically searching for the source. "Ignore that; maybe it's just a ruin guard oil that needs to be replaced." You went back to your mini raid. More on edge, the little mage closed his eyes and began his count to ten.
"Teucer!"
The chaos circuit once in your hand fell, now laid on the ground. Your eyes widen at that voice; it held so much mischief and love—Ocen blue eyes. Yes, those innocent pupils that carry the world just for you and him. Shuddering, you grabbed Gever arm and pulled him back to your arrival. If he was here, then more pain will emerge. The mage appeared to be more relieved at your sudden decision. Why was he here? The Fatui long gone don't roam this area mainly for there are way too many active ruin guards alive. The entrance was close, bits of lights shone beneath the door.
"Big sister (Y/N)!"
A cheerful tone paralyzed you. Suddenly more footsteps joined the young boy, a small gasp escape the male behind his brother. Turning around, your eyes met with the same baby blue eyes from all those childhood years ago.
#genshin imagines#genshin childe#genshin#gi#genshin impact x reader#childe#genshin tartagalia#tartaglia#childe x reader#female reader#fanfic#snezhnaya#liyue#childhood friends#ajax#lumine#reader is female#reader is not traveler#reader insert#abyss mage#zhongli#paimon#tartaglia x reader#x reader#series
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Mean It When You Swing It
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Summary: For @caruliaweek. Prompt: Confession. After two years, Carmen arrives at Julia’s doorstep with a bouquet of red roses. She finds a nightmare instead. Tensions ensue.
---
The first bouquet was a prank on Carmen. Carmen wanted to do something nice for Julia, to thank her for her infinite patience, for blindly doing what Carmen asked without protest, and for doing so without prying. Carmen wanted to do something nice for Julia, and people give flowers to each other, right? They are given to performers after their shows, and to graduates after their ceremonies, and to the sick so that they might feel better. They are given to parents and children and friends and partners. They are given in grief, and they are given in thanks, and they are given in affection.
There was a florist down the street from Julia’s flat, so there Carmen went.
“Whatever they are, they have to be red,” Carmen murmured as she regarded the dizzying collection. There were so many different shapes and sizes, in so many hues, and it was making for a more complicated task than she first thought. In her ear, the sounds of Player’s constant keystrokes blend into the background when he speaks (he once explained something about microphone settings and sound engineering, but most of it went over Carmen’s head).
“How about red roses? Nine of them?” And even through the mic, she could tell that he was smiling.
“Only nine? Okay,” Carmen said and she asked the florist for a bundle.
“Wait, really?” Player almost shrieked, but his sound settings came through yet again to normalize the volume.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing.”
And that was that. It was only after the artifacts were set in front of Julia’s door, and after the doorbell was rung, and while they were on the plane out of Poitiers, that Ivy gently took Carmen’s elbow, steered her out of Zack’s earshot, and asked if Carmen meant to leave red roses for Julia.
“Flowers are flowers are flowers, right? Should I have left different ones?” Carmen asked.
Ivy’s mouth formed and ‘o’ and her green eyes grew wide with dismay. “Oh my god, you really don’t know.”
“Know what?”
Ivy clenched her jaw and scowled. She reached into her pocket, took out a small padded case, and unzipped it to reveal her Team Red earpiece. She plugged this into her ear, stood hands akimbo, and glared at Carmen’s left earring.
“Player,” she growled out. Carmen had never seen her so mad before; not even at Zack. And Player made a high-pitched squealing sound that she’d never heard him make before either.
“I didn’t think she’d actually do it!”
“God-fucking-dammit, Player! You know that Carmen doesn’t know about this kind of shit.”
“I’m sorry. But can you honestly tell me that red roses were the wrong move to make?”
“Do not try to worm out of this.”
“What do they mean?” Carmen asked. Ivy froze. Player too, fell silent. There was nothing but the drone of the plane engines around them.
“What do red roses mean?” Carmen asked again.
Ivy told her. And then she returned to Zack to give Carmen some time, and Player went radio silent for the same reason, and Carmen remained in the back of the plane, thinking.
Did she mean to give red roses to Julia?
---
Today, Carmen picks up a similar bouquet and signs the card with her name—her real name—and her hands take on an unnatural tremor. She flattens them against the counter, slapping the pen down in the process, and tries to distract herself by watching the florist tie a ribbon around the bouquet. They pull the free ends of the ribbon against the back of the shears to make them curl, then present the flowers to Carmen with a wink.
“Thanks,” Carmen says, weighing the flowers in her arms. Is this only nine roses? It seems heavier than she remembers.
“Good luck.” The florist takes the card and carefully tucks it into the tiny plastic trident bundled with the roses, then waves Carmen away with a smile. Carmen turns and continues down the street.
Carmen used to think she knew what love was. That at least Coach Brunt loved her the way a mother would love a daughter. She knows now that she didn’t. It was the kind of love that one has for a stuffed toy, or a limb, or a tool. She was beloved only because she belonged to VILE and did as she was told.
While she suspected that it wasn’t really love, she didn’t have confirmation of it until she met Carlotta Valdez. She believed that the woman who had captured her father’s heart had to be remarkable and she was right.
Her father gave her mother red roses. Usually a single rose, and sometimes a dozen of them at a time, but Carlotta preferred the single roses. She would tell Carmen how Dexter would break into some poor neighbors’ garden with a pair of shears in his back pocket, and how he would methodically choose the right one.
The neighbors entered their roses into competitions, so they soon learned to get dogs and guns. But Dexter never failed to get a rose. Not only because he was that good, but because he liked to see the look on Carlotta’s face when he presented them to her, and because he knew that no matter how beautiful the rose was, that Carlotta would always be lovelier.
Could Carmen love someone like that? The idea is…well. To be honest, she’s still not sure what love is and what love looks like, but she feels signs of it when she thinks of Player, and Ivy and Zack, and Shadowsan. She feels signs of it when she thinks of Carlotta. She likes to think she could. That she’s capable of it.
Could Carmen love Julia like that?
She would like to try.
Carmen carefully shifts the bouquet in her arms and crosses the street. Julia moved back to Oxford about six months after the raid on VILE headquarters. According to Player, most of VILE were round up by then, and the remaining work that ACME could scrounge up didn’t have anything to do with historical artifacts, so Julia had run out of reasons to stay.
Does Julia still drink tea? Does she still wax poetic about Older Futhark and Coptic?
Is she happy?
The apartment complex is really a collection of handsome brownstones that surround a small courtyard. There’s a barbecue pit set in concrete, and a swingset almost hidden amongst some trees. Two children make a circuit on their bikes, and a woman watches them while she idly pushes a toddler on a swing. Carmen avoids them as best she can and reaches Julia’s door. Music comes from inside; the radio, judging from the overlay of a DJ’s commentary. Carmen reaches up to press the doorbell and hesitates.
Two years and no word. No call, no text. Not even a letter. Two years.
Carmen takes a deep, steadying breath. It is unfortunate, but she had always intended to talk to Julia. Sooner than now, yes, but she did want to talk. She just…lost track of time getting to know her mother. To tell the truth, two years is not enough, but they have the rest of their lives. If Carmen didn’t come to see Julia now, then when would she stop by? In three years? Five?
Yes, it’s been two years, but Carmen is here now. She reaches up and presses the doorbell. There’s a muted chime from within, and a vague shout and footsteps, before the door is pulled open to reveal Julia.
“Hello?” Julia says, her eyes and face bright as if recovering from a bit of laughter, but her smile fades when she sees who it is. Her other hand comes up to cover her mouth.
“Carmen?”
“Hey, Jules,” Carmen says. The both of them stay like that for a moment, letting the music wash around them. The smell of roasted meat wafts around them too, as if Julia were interrupted in the middle of cooking dinner.
Julia’s dark hair is shaggy and ruffled. Carmen doesn’t remember if it’s always been that length, and she just carefully brushed it down for work, or if she’s growing it out. It looks good on her regardless, but then again, Julia could make anything look good.
“Who is it? Is it a package?” An alto voice sounds from within the flat. From the kitchen, wiping their hands on a rag, comes someone wearing an apron over their lean frame. Their dark, medium-length hair is tied back to keep it out of the way. At the sight of Carmen, they go very still, their brown hands still tangled in the kitchen rag.
It’s as if an ice cube has been dropped into Carmen’s stomach.
Julia looks nervously between the two of them. “Mars, this is Carmen, an old friend of mine. Carmen, this is my significant other, Mars Dakila.”
“I know,” Carmen says.
The first time Carmen saw Mars, she was sixteen on VILE Island. Back then, Mars Dakila was Cricket Bat. They arrived at the island and were shut away with the faculty for about an hour before they left with the Cleaners. The students of that year said that Cricket Bat wasn’t a thief at all, and Carmen had wondered why they were affiliated with VILE in the first place if they weren’t a thief.
She got her answer later, after Ivy and Zack had joined her crew. Sharkhead Eddie’s gang had taken over Darryl’s Donut Hole after all, and Carmen meant to break into the vault housed within and burn all of the counterfeit money. When she broke in, however, she found bodies instead. About five men were slaughtered, the dark blood pooling on the white vinyl, and she followed that trail of death to the vault, where Sharkhead Eddie gurgled wetly as he bled out on the floor. Cricket Bat stood over him in their spattered suit, with stained bolo knives in their hands, and dispassionately watched him die.
There was a newspaper article afterwards. The cops said that it was a mob battle, and Carmen supposed that in a way, it was, because the conflicts between VILE and the rest of the East Coast criminal gangs stopped after that.
Now, Cricket Bat, sorry, Mars is a scant seven feet away from Carmen—from Julia—and wiping their hands as if they’ll ever be clean. Julia steps between them, and Carmen blinks. She looks up at Carmen with a half-hard, half-pleading expression and the cold in Carmen’s stomach spreads through the rest of her body.
“We’ve met before,” Carmen says.
“In a different life. Do you want to stay for dinner?” Mars asks. Julia’s eyes widen as she tries to stammer something out.
“I’ll set another plate,” Mars says, and they disappear into the kitchen. Carmen watches them go, and when she’s certain that they’re out of earshot, she leans in towards Julia.
“Jules,” she whispers.
“Yes, I know. But they’ve changed,” Julia whispers back.
Carmen doubts that very much, but Julia continues.
“I swear they’ve changed. If you stay for dinner, you’ll see. Carmen, please.”
“Fine.” Not to see proof of this miraculous turnaround, but to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this is. Something is going on, and Carmen is going to save Julia from it if it’s the last thing she does. She straightens up and takes another deep breath. Julia slumps with relief.
“These are for you.” Carmen holds out the bouquet, and Julia’s eyes flicker with…sadness? Pain? She takes the flowers and cradles them against her chest, then gives Carmen a soft smile.
“Thank you. Would you like to come in?”
Julia moves to let Carmen inside, and goes into the kitchen. Carmen slips her converses off and sets them next to a shoe rack just inside the door. Julia’s heels and flats are there, neatly lined up, but there are also sneakers and brogues that do not belong to Julia. The hooks on the wall above carry two coats and two sets of keys. Carmen ventures in further, her horror growing by the second. Between the front door and the kitchen is enough room for a small dining table, and opposite the table is the living room. In the living room, on the wall above the sofa, is a collection of framed photographs. Carmen recognizes a couple pictures from Julia’s office in Oxford. There are also other people that have Julia’s eyes, or her nose. There is also a picture of Julia and Mars.
It’s a candid shot, judging from the blurriness and the tilt of the camera. Julia’s glasses are askew and she’s laughing. Mars, their face mostly hidden behind Julia’s, presses a kiss to her cheek. Carmen’s stomach lurches dangerously.
CLICK. The music stops as the radio is turned off.
“I’ll just get another bottle from the corner store, Babe,” Mars says as they head towards the door. They pull off the apron and toss it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Julia follows them, carrying a vase with the roses.
“I’m not sure that wine will ease this situation at all,” Julia says.
“We won’t know unless we try.” Mars slips on a pair of trainers, takes one of the sets of keys and turns to give Julia a quick kiss. “Be back soon.”
And with that, Mars leaves, shutting the door behind them. There’s an awful silence. Julia nods her head, like she’s psyching herself up, and turns to face Carmen. Her cheeks are pink.
This cannot be real. This…no. This is a sick joke. A prank. Ha ha. Carmen numbly watches as Julia sets the vase on a deep windowsill next to an old Skyflakes tin with a bunch of succulents planted in it. She beckons to Carmen, then returns to the kitchen. Somehow, Carmen finds the strength to follow her.
The kitchen is an organized mess, as most kitchens are while they’re being used. There is a bowl of mashed potatoes, a tray of roasted broccoli, and rack with two steaks. The sink is piled high with utensils. Julia takes a covered baking pan from the fridge. She uses a pair of tongs to take a steak from it and the places it in a skillet on the stove, where it starts sizzling. Julia puts the pan back in the fridge, sets the tongs off to the side, and looks at Carmen expectantly.
“Is ‘Mars Dakila’ even their real name?” Carmen asks.
“It’s their real name now,” Julia says. She turns the overhead fan on and returns to the skillet. There’s sauce in it too, and she tilts the skillet a little so that it all gathers to one side. Julia takes a spoon and begins scooping the sauce over the steak bit by bit, making sure to baste the entire thing.
“Does Player know?” Carmen asks.
“No,” Julia says.
“Do Ivy and Zack know?”
“No. And they don’t need to know.”
“Listen, Jules. I don’t know what they told you, but I know for a fact that they’re VILE. Faculty sent the Cleaners to clean, but they sent Cricket Bat to make messes. I….” Carmen pulls her hands down her face. “They’re dangerous, Jules!”
“Perhaps that was true two years ago, but they teach escrima at a local gym now. They’re reformed.” Julia picks the tongs back up and flips the steak, then continues scooping sauce. Carmen cannot believe what she is hearing.
“How long have they been conning you?” Carmen asks. Julia gives her a sidelong glance.
“They’re not conning me.”
“How long, Jules?”
Julia sighs through her nose. “We celebrated our one year about two months ago. Does that sound like a con to you?”
“Some cons go on for like seven years.” Carmen fights through a rising tide of guilt and desperation. Oh she is a fool. How could she possibly think she could go to Argentina for two whole years and expect everything to be fine? What an idiot she is! What a moron! And now Julia is completely blind to the danger she is mired in.
“It isn’t a con, Carmen,” Julia insists. She picks the tongs up one last time and uses it to prop the steak up on its side against the pan. She holds it upright and moves it a little every now and then to finish the sear.
Carmen could just…leave with Julia. She could just throw her over her shoulder and take her somewhere safe.
Julia sets the steak on the rack along with the others, then turns off the stove and the fan. She leans against the counter, her head hanging in defeat. “Carmen, why did you come back?” She asks in a hushed voice.
“What?”
“I mean, why now? Just as I was starting to…. I was finally….” Julia raises her head and Carmen doesn’t think she’s ever been the target of such longing. Unbidden, Carmen steps closer, and Julia’s eyebrows scrunch together as she continues to gaze up at her. Julia’s hand comes up as if to touch her arm, but she falters and it drops away.
“Jules,” Carmen breathes.
“You disappeared. I wasn’t surprised because that’s what you do, but then you stayed disappeared and I….” Julia drops her gaze. “You deserved to rest. You deserved to meet your mother in peace.”
She says the last part in near monotone, as if by rote.
“And I wouldn’t have been able to do that if it weren’t for you. I should’ve thanked you when I got that file. I should’ve thanked you sooner,” Carmen says. Julia’s cheeks turn pink.
“That wasn’t me.”
“I know it was you, Jules. Thank you for finding her.”
Julia waves it away, her blush spreading to her ears, but she asks, “is she nice, at least?”
“She’s wonderful.”
A bittersweet smile spreads over Julia’s face. “Good.”
Come with me, Carmen wants to ask. Julia could meet her mother and see for herself. But the front door opens, and Mars returns with a paper bag in hand. They slip their shoes off and put the keys back on the hook. Julia steps away so fast, it’s as if she’s scalded herself. She skirts around Carmen and goes to Mars. Carmen resists the urge to take her arm.
“I know you don’t like super dry wines, so I got a merlot,” Mars says. Their brown eyes light up when Julia comes near, and they hold the paper bag out to her.
Julia takes the bag and rucks it down to read the label on the bottle. “Not bad.”
“See? I know what I’m doing.” Mars kisses her cheek and—to Carmen’s dismay—Julia returns it. She does it absently, out of habit, before she catches herself and freezes. But Mars is already stepping around her and towards the kitchen.
“Was there enough sauce left for a third steak?” They ask.
“I managed it all right,” Julia says.
“Cool.” Mars comes to a stop just out of arm’s reach and tilt their head as they regard Carmen. “Sandiego.”
Carmen’s last name hasn’t been Sandiego in a long time, but she’s not telling them that. “Dakila.”
Behind Mars, Julia shies away as if witnessing an impending car crash.
“Would it be better if I ate with a butter knife instead of a regular steak knife?” Mars asks.
“You could make a plastic knife dangerous, Dakila.”
Julia gasps. “Carmen!”
Mars grins at Julia over their shoulder. “It’s okay, Julia. I’ll eat kamayan style if I have to.”
The name rolls so easily through Mars’ mouth with such familiarity and with such affection that Carmen must resist the urge to tackle them to the floor. Somehow, she unsticks her feet and moves out of the way.
---
The dining table is a small, rustic thing covered in scuffs and dents. To save on space, one end of the rectangle has been pushed against the wall. Julia sits at the remaining short side, and Carmen and Mars sit opposite each other.
While Carmen has never eaten dinner while within three feet of a serial killer, she has had worse evenings before. At least the food is good.
“But because I’m taking more classes than usual, my advisor expects me to graduate in three years, not four,” Julia is in the middle of saying. “I honestly didn’t think that I was taking that heavy a course load.”
“‘Doctor Argent,’” Carmen says, testing out the title. Julia ducks, her face going pink again. “It sounds nice.”
“My students already call me that, even though I tell them not to.”
“You still teach?”
“All phd candidates do. Just the introduction courses though, so it’s just the basics.”
“But you still love it.”
“I do.” Julia beams. “You know, I wouldn’t be able to do all of this in the first place if Mars wasn’t around. They take care of everything.”
“Do they?”
Mars has been mostly quiet all through dinner. They have a knife and fork after all, but they take care to keep their hands above the table, and to move deliberately and slowly. Once in a while, they’ll smile at something Julia says, as if sharing a private joke, or they’ll answer in short sentences, but that’s about it.
“Well, they do most of the cooking and the cleaning because they happen to like cooking and they happen to be rather fastidious,” Julia says.
“It’s the strangest sugaring arrangement I’ve ever been in. I’ve never paid anyone with chores before,” Mars says. Julia gasps and swats their arm, making them squawk.
“You absolute scoundrel! Don’t say that when we both know how whipped you are.”
Mars laughs. They laugh and their eyes light up again. “True! You’re probably the only person on the surface of this planet who could make me do anything.”
Carmen’s insides twist horribly.
After dinner, Carmen helps Julia clear the table and put the leftovers away. Julia ties the garbage bag shut with a double knot and tugs it free of the bin. Mars steps up to the sink and Julia tsks.
“Oh Mars, I’ll take care of those; you did most of the cooking.”
But Mars lathers the sponge and starts washing the dishes anyway. “It’s okay, Babe, I’ve got it.”
“I’ll help them,” Carmen says. Mars glances at her from the corner of their eyes.
“Really? Okay.”
Carmen takes a kitchen towel and stands at the dish rack next to Mars. Julia stares at them.
“You can’t be serious,” Julia half-whispers to herself, then louder, “Behave! Both of you.”
“Of course, Babe,” Mars says.
“I mean it,” Julia says, glaring at them both. “I will not come back to a dead body, understand?”
Mars smiles at her. “Yes, Julia.”
“Sure thing, Jules,” Carmen says.
This seems to mollify her, and she leaves to toss the garbage in the complex dumpster. Mars and Carmen wash and dry the dishes in silence. They pass the pans and the dishes first, and also the cutting board.
“You’re using Jules to escape ACME,” Carmen says. Mars’ eyes flicker, but they continue to wash.
“It certainly started that way, but then they stopped being a threat and I kinda…stuck around. Julia’s a remarkable woman.”
“Does she know how many people you’ve killed?”
“I don’t do that anymore; I promised her I wouldn’t,” Mars says as they place the trays and glasses into the rack.
“Oh, like that’s enough to stop you from killing again.”
“Be as skeptical as you want; I don’t care what you think. What matters is that Julia believes me.”
“What kind of sob story did you tell her to get her to trust you?” Carmen asks.
Mars shakes their head and starts cleaning the utensils. “I can’t believe this,” they mutter under their breath.
“Jules deserves better than to be swindled….”
“No, you know what, Sandiego? You just left her. You left. You wanted a fresh start and you got a fresh start and when you got it, you decided that there was no room in it for Julia. You decided that.”
By miracle, Carmen manages to not drop anything despite the shaking of her hands. Who the hell does Cricket Bat think they are to talk to her like this? As if she doesn’t care about Julia. Like she isn’t terrified that one day, she’s going to find out that Julia’s dead because Mars got tired of her, or didn’t need her anymore.
Because no matter what Mars says, they must be pulling a con. They have to be. They would never admit it, and if they passionately exclaim how much they ‘love’ Julia and it happens to sound genuine, then either they’re a very good actor, or they’re starting to buy their own con.
“How long did you expect Julia to wait around for you? Five years? Ten? Assuming you came back at all,” Mars continues.
“If Jules wants to be with someone else, fine. She deserves to be happy. But not with you. You’re a murderer,” Carmen says.
Mars glances at the vase of roses in the windowsill. “Maybe Julia shouldn’t take advice on her love life from you. Gotta say, green is an awful color on you, Sandiego.”
Carmen’s hands freeze above the utensils drawer. Everything else has been put away except one final steak knife. She holds the handle loosely between three fingers, and with one movement, she could just let go. She could drop the knife into the drawer.
Drop the knife, Carmen. Julia has been gone for several minutes now, so she’ll be back at any moment.
Drop the knife.
Beside her, Mars stands before a bare sink, hands empty except for a dishrag that they wind around their forearm in preparation.
“Mean it when you swing it, Sandiego.”
#caruliaweek#julia argent#carmen sandiego#carulia#julethief#carjules#carmen x julia#carulia week#my writing#also on ao3
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Can You Hear Me?
The BBC really made a mistake switching Doctor Who to Sundays. It was fine for Season 11 when it aired in the Fall, but now it’s Winter and it’s had to battle the Grammys, Superbowl, and the Oscars 3 weeks in a row.
All I know before going into this episode is that the guy who played Dekker in Torchwood Children of Earth, aka Uncle Kevan in Game of Thrones, is in this.
1380. We haven’t TRULY gone back in time much lately, so that makes me happy.
Ok but girl, how do you know about them?
Hey we’re back at the estate! For the first time in like forever.
Hey Doctor, 77 minutes is not that bad. Better than a year.
Oh hi Dekker. Why are you in the TARDIS?
Is this a companionless episode? It seems like she’s dropping them off and going off on her own.
“It’s not a good time.” “I got chips though.”
Doctor, you never change. Talking to yourself.
OKAY. Ok. Yeah. Creepy. Sloth.... monster... thing...
Also, I hate the mentions of Graham’s sickness.
That vision was strange...
“Across the street. Down the hall. In my room” yeah nope. Nope nope nope.
Oh the creepy laughter...
Can we not with the fingers?!??! Oh god in the ears?!????!?!
AND THEY GREW BACK!?!?
No not his friend!
See when the Doctor said “Nothing.” while scanning for the creatures, I was like “What if they’re imaginary?” but didn’t write it, and now I’m like what if they were in her dream?
IS THAT MARTHA’S PHONE!??!?!?!!?!?!?! MARTHA’S ACTUAL PHONE!?!?!?!?!? Did I notice that back in Spyfall??? I know she had the RAZR phone then, but I think I’m only just now realizing that Martha had a RAZR too.
I got distracted by Hair Love winning the Oscar (WHICH IT MORE THAN DESERVED. That short made me cry. I actually cried.) and then when I looked back Graham had the chameleon circuit on him I think. I didn’t get a good look.
Ew why the fingers.
Dekker stop being creepy.
I don’t get Yaz’s nightmare... I hope it’s not something horrible she did in the past...
Oh no Tibo.
Bringing the Dreggs back?
OH NO GRAHAM. GRACE. OH.
Doctor. Look around. You keep not noticing your companions wandering off, yet complain that they wander off.
Zellin?
The Eternals? The Guardians? Is this Marvel?
Also, another mention of “this dimension” so like... more alternation dimensions...
The Toymaker?
“We share the same obsession.” He has a point. The Doctor does love her humans.
“You are so much lesser.” Oh hell no.
I was thinking earlier “If she’s in prison... what’s the reason...” but didn’t think any deeper. Welp. Shoulda questioned it more.
I like this animation.
“It passed the time.” Oh great. Destroying worlds. A good pastime.
I love her costume.
“Tiny ephemeral flashes of existence.” Wow thanks for rubbing it in.
I REALLY love her costume. That iridescent sheer fabric. So pretty.
TIMELESS CHILD. OH NO HERE WE GO.
I just remembered why I have deja vu. Wasn’t there an episode that everyone likes to pretend didn’t happen with a little boy’s dreams? I haven’t rewatched the last half of season 5 in so long...
“There’s no such thing as a boogeyman.” *Zellin shows up* “That’s not true.” Yeah so if I was a child and saw that and heard those words I’d just drop dead then and there.
“Sorry, I wont do that again.” Oh god Doctor...
“Really?” “I couldn’t resist.” Oh Doctor.
“And all those people out the TARDIS jacuzzi.” So the swimming pool was upgraded?
Ugh either Graham or Ryan are gonna die this season...
Awwwww Ryan got Tibo to open up about his feelings.
3 years earlier? So she’s 17-ish?
Oh this officer is an angel.
That was incredibly sweet.
I hate that we’re getting so many vibes of either the fam dying or quitting the Doctor.
I was just complaining that we don’t get enough historical episodes, and now we get another next week! Yay!
I was about to press post when I reread the episode title. Why was it called Can You Hear Me? I guess that line was said, but I can’t really remember. Oh wait. Probably the iridescent lady, ok. I get it. But this is why Doctor Who shouldn’t have to split my attention with the Oscars.
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.: Day 4 - F/O February :.
First date
Let’s play catch up again, shall we?
Notes: Kurama/Me. The first date, all those years ago...before anything else was known of him, aside from that lovely, kind boy at school. Pre-Yu Yu Hakusho canon.
“Would you...be willing to go on a date with me??” Rachel’s heart still hadn’t calmed a beat since asking Shuichi that very question yesterday, just before a certain redhead escaped her reach at the end of the school day. Having a crush on him a long time... Honestly, ever since she’d taken the biggest fall in human history while trying to get to her next class. Not only had he helped her up, but helped gather her things, walk her to the nurse’s office, and make sure she was okay before he headed out.
Was it probably silly? Oh, definitely. That’s probably just...infatuation, isn’t it? But yet, Rachel still felt drawn to him. An attraction that couldn’t be explained and that bothered her every day, him nearly always on her mind. That kind personality that made him so popular in school, as well as with a headstrong attitude that meant nobody dared step on his toes. Trying to start a fight with Shuichi... Who’d be dumb enough to do that?!
...Who’d be dumb enough to ask him out after school, even after countless other people had tried and been rejected...?
What Rachel hadn’t expected, was for him to smile, nod, and say, “I’d love to,” and...give her directions to his favorite cafe near the edge of the city, where they could have a proper, quiet date.
It felt like a dream. It felt...like maybe it could be a lie or some horrible joke. But...if there was one thing Rachel was, it was a hopeless romantic who trusted too easily. Who got ready that day in a daze, dressing cute, and headed out for the train station, to ride out to the edge of the city, and to the cafe he directed her towards.
...It wasn’t a lie. It was the first thing she realized, eyes wide at the cafe window. His shockingly red hair was easily spotted in the earthly tones of the cafe, sitting patiently. She was a few minutes late, which bothered her, but... Had he been perfectly on time? Waiting here for her?
Walking through a door never felt so dramatic.
“There you are... Over here!” He waved her over, smile so warm and charming that it sent Rachel’s heart into a fit, flushing before he ever had to do a thing. Hands onto onto her bag tightly as she walked over, sliding into the seat opposite him. “Were you able to find this place okay?”
“Y-Yes... Though I must admit, I’m still getting used to the train. I was so scared that I’d miss my stop, that I almost did!” He laughed at that, her heart skipping a few more beats. He was so handsome... It wasn’t fair. How did-? Why??
“As long as you got here safely and without incident... I’m happy,” he assured. Well. That might’ve actually killed her. Ignoring her slow death, Shuichi turned to the menu behind him, gesturing to it. “Want anything? I’ll order it for you. Of course, it’d only be right if I covered for this date...”
“A-Are you sure?” Sure, he wasn’t wrong, but somehow...she just had to make sure. “I don’t mind-”
“Don’t worry about it.” He looked back at her, green eyes so bright and soft and kind... “I’ve actually noticed you before. You’re so shy and still learning Japanese, but... I’ve seen how kind you are. Always trying your best to be understanding and forgiving. Fit into the roles we make... It’s incredibly admirable of you. Truth be told... I was hoping we could interact more, but school’s kept us both busy, it seems. That’s why I’m actually really glad you asked me out, ahaha.”
.......Ah. So death...was like this, huh? He only giggled more at the bright blush on Rachel’s face, the poor girl needing to drop her head into her hands. A vain attempt to hide- done too late, to boot- but a valiant effort, all the same. At least, in Shuichi’s eyes.
“So...? What do you want to order?”
A few hours passed in good spirits in that cafe, talking about whatever came to mind. Shuichi admitted to his mother getting sick recently, and how he was looking for ways to help her. Rachel talked about what it was like to be a foreign transfer student, as well as some impromptu studying and tips on Shuichi’s part. Things that would help her study and remember things better.
Something done far better with him than with anyone else thus far.
“Well... Mind joining me? I have more things planned, after all,” he said, sighing a little as he got up, offering a hand to her. She glanced at it, a small smile growing on her face, before reaching out her own hand to take it.
“Oh yeah? What else do you have planned?”
“Nothing I can tell you. You’ll just have to trust me,” he hummed, smile turning more into a full on, playful grin as he helped Rachel out of her seat.
“Mysterious... Suppose I will have to trust you.”
“I’d hope so,” he shot back, laughing. “Otherwise, I think this would get pretty awkward.” Less so awkward, moreso terrifying, she thought, rolling her eyes. But he was right on that much... If there was no trust here, this could go from “cute date between two high school students” to “body of a young woman found” real damn quick.
...Not to be morbid, but worries like this still persist, even in a place that feels as lax as Japan. (...Or maybe that just increases concern? After all, the police aren’t exactly...well..... You know. Great at their jobs. Nor is the legal system that great, either... It’s all so many layers of a hot mess.)
At least that became a topic of conversation on the train, getting one of the emptier cars and having a full blown discussion of thefts and attacks in Japan compared to America.
“...I just still can’t believe your bike and umbrella are more in danger here than your life,” Rachel huffed. “Like? You guys don’t worry about leaving your phones and/or belongs behind at all! That’s fine and safe, but gods help you if didn’t chain your bike down hard enough.” Shuichi laughed into his fist, grinning.
“Sure, but isn’t that more relaxing?”
“I’m stressed all the time,” she whined, slouching a little to make her point before straightening up again. “If anything, trying to adjust to where my stresses need to go is giving me a doozy.”
“Still. Isn’t there something positive to living here?” There was a certain gleam to his eye that had her heart stuttering and cheeks warming, but- as usual- she rolled around his subtle implication to instead be a bit more teasing.
“Well... I guess having authentic ramen is such a big bonus...and not paying over retail cost for items due to shipping and such,” she admitted, leaning back and just to the side that she and Shuichi were shoulder to shoulder. He raised a brow at the response...but pushed into the contact with a small, low hum.
“Gosh, only that...? How mean.”
“How so?” Rachel fluttered her lashes at him, absolutely playing her obliviousness up to the max. He smiled at it, but any attempt at further playing up this act was lost when he leaned in, eyes lidded and noses a mere inch away from each other.
“Well,” he muttered, voice low, “I was hoping there could be...something more to make you stay.... Something like that...could be worth something else, you know?” Uh, no. Did not know, because at that very moment, Rachel’s brain short circuited into an abyss previously unknown. Complete, total blue screen. The only notion left in her brain was that, maybe, he might-?
But then Shuichi pulled back with a bright, innocent grin, the moment over just as quickly as it had begun, leaving her mentally reeling on the seat. Unsure of what to make of that moment...
What the heck just happened?
“Ah, sorry... Was that too mean?”
“W-Well, not mean... But,” Rachel finally remembered how to breathe, putting a hand on her chest to feel her racing heartbeat. (Shuichi found that ridiculously adorable, glancing at it before back up to her distant gaze.) “that... I mean.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I think you might’ve broken me.”
“Sorry,” he apologized, laughing a little. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”
The next destination was a museum a little ways out, still on the edge of the city...and dedicated to art. Rachel was honestly more excited than she first thought to go in, eagerly striding from painting to painting. Amazingly, Shuichi knew some of the history for certain pieces- some more than others, of course- and was able to provide some low conversation for them. It added to the experience, with Rachel gushing over each historical piece that she happened to know or when it featured a kami or mythical creature.
Much to Shuichi’s silent joy, she especially loved to gush about the kitsune and their tricky ways. Especially praising their shapeshifting and how much she wished she could do that... (It did make him raise a brow, but if she didn’t notice, then he wouldn’t. Some things were worth figuring out on their own time.)
“Just kitsunes?” He asked, holding her hand as they left the museum. At some point, it had become a necessity...mostly because he too often found himself standing alone when she’d seen something interesting and had wandered off. The final straw had been her wandering into a room across the hall and Shuichi worrying for a moment that he’d lost her.
After that, hand holding had become the only way to keep her on track.
“Mm, I think I do have a preference for them, but I also...kinda like tanuki, too. Such cute little tricksters! Though I’m...really not going to get over-”
“The ballsack thing?” They said at the same time, the two bursting into laughter at the same time.
“Yeah!! What an idea...” Rachel shook her head, a smile still bright on her face. “But I also appreciate the Yuki-onna... I think the ones that stick out to me are the ones that just come from the most interesting of places and have a really interesting, deep meaning to me- Oh!! And the bakeneko and nekomata!”
“Even though they’re violent?” A pause. “Well, the nekomata, especially.”
“Mhm. I can’t quite help it... I love all cats. Even if nekomata hate me, I’d love them a whole bunch.” Shuichi shook his head, smile still there, but... Good grief. Of course he’d have a crush on the one with no true sense of danger in her head... (But at the same time, he deeply appreciated it. He really did like her a lot, so the truth would have to come out sooner or later...)
“I see... Ah, wait a minute. Then does that mean you like manekineko a lot, too?”
“Of course I do!” Rachel gasped, almost sounding offended by the question. Though the look she was doing...! Shuichi almost gave in to laughter immediately! (Though to be polite and hear her out, he held it in.) “Manekineko are cats, too, aren’t they? So of course I’d love them!!”
“Hmm... Kamaitachi?”
“Scary,” she admitted with a nod, “but I like them in their own way, too.”
“Are they any beasts you don’t like?” It had to be asked. So far, he couldn’t tell if there really was any yokai she didn’t like! Was it even possible? She thought about it a moment, head tilted as they walked on, hand in hand.
“...Hmm. I guess...it would be that bathroom lady. That’s horrifying no matter which way you look at it.” Bathroom...lady? It took him a moment before he turned to her, blinking.
“Do...you mean Aka Manto? That’s a man!”
“It is?!” The shocked surprise had him laughing all over again, a curled fist slightly covering his mouth as he did. “Wh... But he hides in women’s bathrooms?!? That’s...” He only laughed harder at the look of confusion on her face, needing to wipe away tears by the time he could manage to straighten himself up and control his laughter.
“Well... I’m glad I could be here for this revelation.”
“....Aka Manto is a pervert,” she muttered, frowning.
“Now, now, don’t say that. He might target you next, you know.” Rachel shuddered, holding his hand a little tighter and walking closer to Shuichi, not looking at him. Missing the way his eyes softened fondly at the act.
“Don’t even joke about that... I might avoid using public bathrooms.”
“Hey, it’s okay... If anything happens to you, I’ll be there for you, okay? Even if I have to seem like a perv.” It was silent for a long moment, Rachel looking thoughtful before finally muttering, “You know... That’s weirdly comforting. Thanks, Minamino.”
“Hey... You don’t have to use my last name, you know.” Rachel blinked, looking up at him. At first with a slightly surprised expression, though he could soon see her cheeks flush a little brighter.
“Um... Are you sure? I don’t want to be impolite or anything, since I know-”
“I’m allowing it,” he assured, laughing softly. “We’re certainly closer than before, don’t you think?” He swung their hands a little, proving his point. “So please... It’s okay. I’ll call you by your first name, too. Alright, Rachel?” If no honorific was an honor enough, then what sealed the deal was him tugging her forward and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Today was just a full day of being mentally broken into emotional pieces, huh...?
“Th-Thanks...Suichi...”
“It’s no problem~”
The sun was setting by the time they both made it back to the city, but while Shuichi admitted to plans of going to a fancy restaurant...Rachel admitted to being unable to handle the formality of that. Not to mention, the prices! He was already paying for everything today, so the deep seeded need for him to take it easier on his wallet... He wasn’t too sold on the idea, but eventually gave into the cute, anxious bouncing she was doing while trying to convince him otherwise.
And so, the day was being closed out with a compromise: getting fast food to go and heading out to a nearby park to instead have a little picnic while the sun was setting.
“I’ll admit...not a bad choice,” Shuichi mused, popping another fry into his mouth. “Getting to admire the sunset like this while having food... Though we should have a proper picnic sometime.”
“Mm, that’d be nice,” Rachel agreed, completely missing his hint... It not sinking in until a chicken nugget was already in her mouth, staring at him in shock with a bulge in her cheek when it finally sunk in, Shuichi watching her hurry to eat it in order to speak. “W-Wait! You-? You want to...?”
“Go on another date with you?” She nodded, eyes wide behind her glasses. “Well, of course. I already knew you were something special before...today’s just proven that. I’m already glad I waited for you to gain the courage to ask me out... You really think this would be just a one time thing? That I’d be that mean?” Rachel looked down at her lap, cheeks flushed, and shrugged. Shuichi’s eyes went wide, sure that he heard his heart just crack.
“I don’t know... Maybe? You’re super popular and I’m just...kinda plain, actually. I...was honestly kinda wondering when.....this would be revealed as an elaborate joke...” His shoulders sagged, the playful atmosphere fading away into something more somber. Had... Had someone hurt her before? That couldn’t be a thing someone just...thought.
“Hey.” He took her hand gently, pulling it between them and holding onto it was just enough pressuring to be reassuring. Waiting for her to meet his eyes, kind, yet determined. “I’m not that kind of person. Don’t let your brain lie to you like that. You must have heard of the many people I’ve turned down... I... Heh. I’ll admit,” he murmured, tone now far more gentle and painfully sincere, “I wasn’t interested in dating until you. I have...a lot of secrets. Secrets I don’t want others to get involved in...but I trust you, for some reason. Drawn to you, to the point where I meant it before, when I said I’d protect you from any mean yokai that might try to harm you.
“It’s extremely forward of me to say this so early on, I know...” He leaned forward, pleased when Rachel leaned forward, too. Their foreheads touching and staring deeply into each other’s eyes. “But I also want to show you how much this really means to me, so... You, Rachel, are incredibly dear to me already. I know I can trust you with all my secrets someday... So please. Keep smiling in that beautiful way that you do. Laugh so warmly, that I feel at peace...and when the truth comes out, I hope you accept me as I am.” She seemed understandably confused, but nodded quietly, a smile slowly growing on her face again.
“...Okay.”
“I’ll walk you home. It’s only right.”
“Oh... Okay. Thank you, Shuichi.”
The walk home was a quiet affair, their hands linked together more easily as they walked through the suburban areas with ease and calm. Streetlights helped, but something about the redhead’s presence made everything feel more reassuring. Nothing to fear with him around...
And his coat on her shoulders.
“Here we are, princess,” he hummed, twirling her forward and then giving a wink when Rachel faced him. “Have fun?”
“Way more than I would’ve ever expected... Thank you.” She laughed and he brightened up, nodding. “I... I really look forward to our next one.”
“As do I.” He kissed her hand, nudging her home.
“Ah, but... Your jacket?”
“Give it to me, tomorrow, if you wish.” Rachel gaped at him, not at all oblivious to his intentions. He really was going to make it obvious they’d been on a date! To the whole damn school!! “...Or not. I don’t mind.”
“You’re....” She sighed, shaking her head.
“I’m me. And that’s what matters,” he hummed, a smug tone to his voice as he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “See you tomorrow at school, Rachel. Study hard, too!”
...Leaving her there at the gate, flustered, heated with embarrassment, and reeling...and not knowing how deep into his life and his world she truly was. Not until later that following week...
But that’s a story for another time.
#FOFebruary#FOFebruary2020#self insert#self ship#self insert community#self ship community#HI I'M SHAKING AAAAAAA#TAKE THIS AND RUN WITH IT#IDK THIS IS SO FUCKING LOOOOONNNNGGG#I DON'T KNOW WHAT A MODERATION IS ANYMORE...#DID I EVER???#HELP ME#[S C R E A M S]#otp; garden of love
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Fifteen Questions. Fifteen Mutuals.
Repost, don’t reblog!
(HEY DID Y’ALL KNOW I HAVE LIKE 1,000 MUSES? I’LL DO THEM ALL. HERE’S A READMORE FOR YOU. SORRY MOBILE USERS)
1. Are you named after anyone?
Molly: Sorry, nah. Can’t really ask anyone though.
Finn: I believe my first name is my grandfather’s middle name. Dad’s side.
Marina: Maybe? I think I was named after a historical figure, but it’s, like, a really popular name anyway...
Brine: Nope! Just salty water.
Pansy: I’m named after a flower. It’s a tradition in my fam’bly to name your first-hatched after a flower...
Ribbon: Momma’s a Ribbon Eel!
Slushie named himself -- though technically, he’s named after a beverage.
Tay: Yes! Many rulers in my bloodline were also named ‘Octavio’.
Sabi: It’s shortened from ‘Wasabi’. Not very creative, I know, but ... I’ve had a few names. This is just the one I’ve gotten used to.
-
2. When was the last time you cried?
Molly: Nunya bizness. (About three days ago.)
Finn: I’m actually quite happy at the moment! Maybe two weeks?
Marina: I don’t ever cry, duh. (Last week after spilling her meal on the floor.)
Brine: Yesterday! Don’t worry, it was just a touchy subject that came up. Always cry when you need to, it can really help.
Pansy: Haven’t in a fair bit, I think I cried on Groa the other day about somethin’ real dumb. One of my workmates left n’ I burnt dinner n’ then something else happened and just… well, I sure hope he doesn’t think I’m weird ‘cause of that, eheh.
Ribbon: It was my birthday recently, so I haven’t felt like crying! I dunno.
Slushie cried the last time he ate a memcake, so two days ago.
Tay: That isn’t any of your business. (Ten minutes ago.)
Sabi: Sometimes I cry when I’m listening to sad music, so, um… Tuesday?
-
3. Do you have kids?
Molly: No! Adopting might be cool when I’m older, but I’m only 19 and I have way too much to deal with already!
Finn: Do I look like a father? I’m still in uni! … That said, a few of my classmates have kids, it’s really strange.
Marina: No, but I have younger siblings, so I know how to take care of ‘em. … I don’t think I’m gonna want kids for a while, if ever.
Brine: Haha! No! Maybe someday.
Pansy: Slushie’s my kid! He’s adopted, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t family. I hope he knows that.
Ribbon: You’re funny! Sometimes I pretend my dinosaur toys are babies, and then we destroy the town as a powerful army.
Slushie is 15 years old!
Tay: I think Reed could be considered my ‘child’, but I’m still not altogether sure about that. And Masako, I think? But I never had any children in this timeline, so it’s a little confusing…
Sabi: No, no, I don’t think I’d make a good father…
-
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Molly: Here and there. I don’t like to overdo it, but it’s totally justified sometimes.
Finn: Yeah … my friends aren’t exactly a good influence.
Marina: All the time. I don’t think I could live without it.
Brine: Hardly! It wouldn’t be good if I sassed my superiors, and it’s mean. But a harmless eyeroll won’t hurt, on occasion.
Pansy: Eh, sometimes. I’m not really smart enough, I get out-sarcasm’d, and it ain’t the nicest thing.
Ribbon: Doing a sarcasm can be pretty hard… you get told off, too.
Slushie doesn’t talk enough to use sarcasm, but his body language often suggests it!
Tay: Oh no, I neeeever use sarcasm…
Sabi: …It isn’t kind to be sarcastic.
-
5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?
Molly: Their face. Some people have real distinguishin’ features.
Finn: Their ink colour! If they don’t have one, then I look at their style instead.
Marina: Uh, does it matter? It depends on the person, right? I usually notice if somebody’s an Octoling.
Brine: Usually? Their handshake. I know that’s kind of weird to say, but the way someone shakes your hand can tell you a bit about them.
Pansy: I try to look at how they carry themselves n’ the expressions they make. It helps you figure out what a person’s like – though how they talk and what they do’s the next important thing. S’ important to watch the eyes.
Ribbon: If they’re smiling!
Slushie pays very close attention to the way other people talk.
Tay: How they behave towards me! Respect can be the difference between a guest staying or being thrown out – and potentially a matter of life and death when assassins are concerned!
Sabi: How much of a threat they are to me, haha… I try to keep my head down.
-
6. What’s your eye colour?
Molly: Kinda… teal green? Lighter?
Finn: Rose pink!
Marina: Green eyes, green sclera. Just once I want somebody to say I’ve got eyes like emeralds, but I don’t see it happening. Nobody’s that suave, and I’d probably slap a stranger if they did.
Brine: Ocean blue!
Pansy: Deep pink. Cute, right? Haha, that was a joke…
Ribbon: Pink like dad’s!
Slushie’s eyes are purple, with a white sclera.
Tay: Soft blue on green~
Sabi: Blue – and um, I’m the kind of octoling that has green ‘whites’.
-
7. Scary movie or happy ending?
Molly: I like scary movies, they’re usually not that scary, haha. Happy endings make me think of those sappy films, but I don’t mind them in like … regular stuff.
Finn: I love happy endings! Especially in a romance film. Scary movies aren’t so bad, but some of them I’d prefer not to see…
Marina: Horror. Happy endings can be way too saccharine for my tastes.
Brine: I do love a good happy ending!
Pansy: Yeah, happy endings here too. I don’t mind horror so much if things work out in the end, though. What’s the point if everyone dies?
Ribbon: No scary films please!!!
Slushie isn’t a fan of scary films. He’d much rather watch something happy.
Tay: It depends on my mood. I like a happy ending, but it has to be written well, and scary films – well, I’m not scared of anything, but too much of it taints the mind, you know…
Sabi: Please . . . take one look at me and say I’d enjoy a horror film. You’d be wrong in every way…
-
8. Any special talents?
Molly: People keep saying my cooking’s good, but I don’t really see it? I know lots ‘bout weapons…
Finn: Art! I’m trying to make a career out of it.
Marina: I’m pretty good at mending up old human tech, and I can program. Real dab-hand at fixing technology. Betcha didn’t know that.
Brine: I’ve got a good eye! … Yup, that’s all I can think of, ahah.
Pansy: Me? Er, I guess I can cook pies pretty good. I used to be decent at all that detective stuff too, but now I’m not so sure.
Ribbon: I dunno what my special talent is yet! I’m hoping it’s to do with detecting.
Slushie is very good at puzzle solving, and has quick reflexes. He’s also an absolute STAR at learning languages.
Tay: I have so many talents! Always looking good is practically a talent, and there’s my overall intelligence – I’m especially good at mathematics – but I’m a creative mind too! I’m PERFECT at stage performance and mixing music, not to mention I’m excellent at tinkering with machinery, I’ve built plenty of things and […etc.]
Sabi: Oh, um, I’m pretty good when it comes to music, I guess…
-
9. Where were you born?
Molly: Small town just outside of Inkopolis, but basically Inkopolis.
Finn: I think my parents moved to Inkopolis around the time I was hatching? Yeah.
Marina: Octopolis. You know, underground.
Brine: Inkopolis, hatched and raised. (This is a retcon--)
Pansy: Cuttledown, it’s a little village right near Calamari County.
Ribbon: Here! Inkopolis!
Slushie doesn’t know when or where he hatched, but he was quickly picked up by the underground orphanage.
Tay: Oh, somewhere on the surface a very long time ago… (Actually, that isn’t true.)
Sabi: In a lab somewhere underground. It’s, uhm, not very glamorous.
-
10. What are your hobbies?
Molly: Turf War! I listen to music a bunch too, n’ play games.
Finn: When I’m not doing art, I like to play Turf War and hang out with my friends.
Marina: *gestures to her room full of human artefacts and study notes*
Brine: I don’t have a lot of time for hobbies, aha… sometimes I still make coffee…? I like stargazing and laughing at conspiracy theories.
Pansy: I garden a lot, but that’s also my job now.
Ribbon: I play videogames and draw and use my imagination and collect dinosaurs.
Slushie is still trying to find his place on the surface, so is trying a lot of new things.
Tay: Tinkering! I get excited about circuits and wires. Surprising, no?
Sabi: I really… REALLY invest a lot of my time into music. But I, um, I also like to read. Mostly science fiction.
-
11. Do you have any pets?
Molly: Nah. Banned. I leave too much to give ‘em attention anyway.
Finn: My little brother. … Okay uh, that was kind of a cruel joke, eheh. No.
Marina: Pets are cute, but I don’t have the time! Not to mention no space.
Brine: Haha, Mom would kill me.
Pansy: We used to have a nudibranch back at Ma’s but not anymore. Maybe I should get another…? They cost a whole lot, long-term.
Ribbon: I reeaallly want an axolotl but dad and mom say no! It’s not fair. Dad used to live on a farm so he basically had EVERY PET.
Slushie lives with Pansy, so likewise has no pets.
Tay: Hm, no… perhaps I should invest in one for companionship. I’d pay someone else to feed and clean up after it, of course…
Sabi: Ah, that’s a lot more responsibility than I could handle…
-
12. What sports do you/have you played?
[Everyone says ‘Turf War’ in unison, except for Tay who says ‘Sword fighting’ and Slushie who says nothing].
-
13. How tall are you?
Molly: *grumbles* 4’10”…
Finn: 5’4”, still waiting for that growth spurt.
Marina: 5’5”. I’d like to be taller.
Brine: 5’11”! Nothing more, nothing less.
Pansy: Not nearly tall enough. 5’7”. I’m the shortest of my siblings, and I’m the oldest, pffah.
Ribbon: Small! (She’s exactly 4ft.)
Slushie is something like 5’2”, I haven’t written it down anywhere.
Tay: Tall enough! (He’s 5’6” and insecure about it.)
Sabi: Aaah… I’m 6’8”, how embarrassing… I’m thankful I’m not any taller.
-
14. Dream job?
Molly: I sure as heck don’t know, my dude. Something where I could show off my knowledge about battling, I guess. A teacher?
Finn: An artist that gets paid!
Marina: I will become the world’s greatest archaeologist.
Brine: Almost there! I’d love to be a fully-fledged lawyer.
Pansy: … I already lost my dream job as a detective.
Ribbon: A detective!! Or a secret agent!! Or… a mailperson!
Slushie doesn’t really know what he wants to do with his life yet.
Tay: What could be better than being an emperor and a DJ? … being an MC? A showhost? I could do that too.
Sabi: My music is already selling well, so I’m very happy.
-
15. Favourite subject in school?
Molly: I hated school. Uh, I liked history sometimes, but I wasn’t great. Music? We used to mess around a lot…
Finn: Apart from the obvious ‘art’, I did enjoy literature too!
Marina: Human studies. As for the military side, I did always enjoy target practice.
Brine: Law! Since it’s a later subject, I also had fun in Social Studies and Inklish Language.
Pansy: Long time ago, uh… I remember bein’ pretty good at geography? I was awful at Inklish n’ Maths and that. Science was pretty good though.
Ribbon: Hm… I love all the subjects! Does snacktime count as a subject? We hardly get those anymore now we’re older.
Slushie likes foreign languages. He also excelled in agility training.
Tay: I’m not sure I remember exactly, but I do love mathematics.
Sabi: I technically never went to school, um…
Well, here’s the end!
Tagged by: @manysquidsandoctos
Tagging: meap
#pretty sure like 90% of my mutuals were already tagged so do it if you wish--#long post#EVERYONE.#Molly#Finn#Marina#Slushie#Brine#Pansy#Ribbon#Octwovio#Wussabi
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Bizarre Vrsar
Not only did Hotel Marija have a very comfy room its breakfast was vast with many little tempting morsels.
Having spent 2 nights at Novigrad and finding it charming we thought it would be good to see whatever else Istria might offer. The big risk is this might be the benchmark and nothing else will come up to scratch but time to find out.
Randomly picked an inland town off the map about 20 minutes drive. The soil was rich so grapevines and olive trees were aplenty. Arrived at Visnjan as the 1617 clock tower was striking midday. It turned out to be a pretty little town with the bell tower through an arch in a square at the top and a narrow paved street down to the 3 cafes all within thirty metres of each other. The narrow street was lined with old double storey houses two of which had nonnas sitting on the balcony amongst their many pot plants eating lunch. One yelled out ‘Morgen’ clearly not having registered the chiming of 12 o’clock. Perhaps she was excited to see some new faces in town because I reckon this charming little village would not be on the regular tourist circuit.
Also a sturdy but a little neglected church at the end of the narrow street before the cafes. We guessed it was probably built at the same time as the arch and bell tower. The door was closed but the window shutters were open so we could see the paintings on the ceiling and walls which were in surprisingly good condition.
Because we had driven inland we had bypassed Poreč on the coast so we backtracked to it, found a big carpark not far from the centre which took the pain out of trying to interpret the indecipherable restrictions and limitations of European parking metres. Even lucky enough to get one in the shade which was a blessing as the little Fiat’s air conditioning is more a pffff than a blow.
Poreč is a much larger seaside town than Novigrad and plenty of tourists have found it. While the old town hasn’t been ruined by development there are several large complexes on its edge and the beaches teeming with umbrellas and lounges. Historically the Romans were there (of course) then the Venetians took over which was very evident in the buildings which were lovely. There were architectural clues the Venetians had been in Novigrad too.
Poreč’s main attraction the Christian cathedral complex considered the best preserved of its kind. Christians came to Poreč in the first centuries after Christ but Christianity was forbidden. So the priest held holy mass in his home but was later tortured and killed. In 313 Christians were given permission to worship so the first church on the site was built. It was replaced by a church now the Euphrasius Basilica in the 6th century. Also built at that time and still part of the complex were the atrium, bishop’s Palace and the baptistry.
We duly bought our tickets and did the tour of 10 points of interest. The first of which was the bell tower. While only 120 stairs it was stinking hot so we lumbered up. View of Poreč and it’s surrounds was good. Then through the rest of the complex and the museum. It was good without being amazing. Lots of building fragments, artefacts and some bits and pieces of mosaics.
Quick refreshments on the run from the bakery and time to head to the night’s destination. Had booked a place in Vrsar another fishing town, smaller than Poreč but bigger than Novigrad. Found our Air BnB apartment easily enough and we were supposed to be able to park out the front for 15 minutes. So I got out to see if I could move the little locked barrier to be told by the cafe owner that we couldn’t park there. Back in the car to get out of the way of a couple of cars behind us who we’d been holding up for a minute or two by now. Rang the owner who apologised, reset Narelle and once around the block saw us back there with the barrier removed. Apartment on street level up a laneway - always so pleasing not to have to lug cases up stairs. You’ve got to hand it to photographers who can so skilfully make a room barely 4 metres square look roomy on the internet pictures. Still it’s recently renovated and the bathroom excellent.
Parked the car a bit further away down by the water and headed looking for somewhere to settle in for a few hours for a swim and relax. It got me thinking why Europeans get so excited about beaches like Bondi and to a lesser extent StKilda. It’s because there actually is a beach. Here at Vrsar the holiday makers are using up every square metre of small pebbly areas no bigger than our current digs. We along with plenty of others settled for an area under some trees back a little way from the water’s edge. Some housekeeping was required; first scan for dog turds then clear out any pebbles and or pine cones before laying down beach towel. I read and snoozed. Chris blogged.
Tidied up and out for dinner. First of all we passed several 20-something girls sitting at little wooden tables in the street outside our apartment. Equipped with a computer each they were talking on their phones and writing information on lists. I asked the the owner of our apartment the following morning when we went past them again what they were doing. He didn’t know but said a Russian owned the building and the girls only speak Russian. We wondered if they were an example of pesky callers that call from foreign climes trying to scam. Who knows.
Descended a steep hill with what seem liked endless sets of slippery flagstones. We passed a number of red faced puffing people struggling as they heaved themselves up while we gave 100% concentration on not slipping over on the way down. When it was time to go home later we chose an alternative route of a longer footpath without any stairs.
On the way down we passed a couple of young blokes in old fashioned formal clothing and then at the bottom of the hill was another. There was a crowd gathering but we weren’t sure if it was an organised event or a busker. We joined in anyway. Turned out Casanova had been through town and declared it was “A town of fine wine and beautiful women” so it seems these young men do Casanova shows. The young Casanova was very amusing advising the women to leave their husbands home next time, flirting with some of the women saying he had a number of tricks up his sleeve in a very provocative and suggestive way. It was all very light hearted and fun but sadly I wasn’t on the trend of such flirtations as I may have been many years ago. Clearly Casanova thought I was well past my use-by date. After his warm up he started to take his show and followers back towards the hill we had just come down. The choice came down to going back up that hill with Casanova or heading to the wharf for a drink. We chose the latter.
Found a bar where Chris (aka The supercilious Bastard) chose a craft beer The Arrogant Bastard - seemed fitting. Enjoyed watching the throng and while Novigrad was more your Blairgowrie set, Vrsar felt far more like Rosebud.
There was plenty to keep us entertained. A pirate-type boat docked and what seemed liked a surprisingly large number of happy punters for the size of the vessel disgorged to the strangely inappropriate strains of Jose Feliciano’s Feliz Navidad (I want to wish you a Merry Christmas). Still they looked like it they’d had a rollicking good time, Christmas or not.
Another boat caught Chris’ eye. It was the Glassboat but with appropriate movement the GL were hidden by a furled umbrella. We felt due to lack of having one he didn’t qualify going on the Assboat whereas I’m over qualified.
Time for dinner. Initially chose a taverna on the waterfront but after sitting there for 5 minutes and being seemingly invisible we felt it didn’t bode well. So headed a little way back up the hill to a restaurant we’d spotted earlier. Mussels and fish - both ok but Croatian food not a patch on Greek food.
Headed back to our apartment but saw there a music act was on at the cafe just at the front of it. Act was on a break but had a set of 45 minutes to play. So we sat to watch full of anticipation after the 2 nights of very good and excellent music we’d seen in Novigrad. But in hindsight we shouldn’t have had our hopes too high. The only instrument on display was a Hammond-style organ and the banner hanging from the organ said ‘Fantasy Duo’. More nightmare than fantasy. They were a 50 year old husband and wife team, her in a polka dot dress and him in beige Fletcher Jones slacks and a neat shirt. She played the tambourine and swayed. He played the organ and swayed. Unfortunately they both sang. Amongst their repertoire was Strangers In The Night, Una Paloma Blanca, I Just Called To Say I Love You, To Love Somebody and Que Sera Sera plus some Croatian dirges. Chris was willing them to play to the audience, which mainly comprised of Germans, by belting an oompah song. But it wasn’t to be. Just more mundane muzak. I felt like I was listening to an LP from the Brashes $1 Clearance Bin circa 1970. One couple made the best of it and danced. Everyone else talked as if they weren’t there but politely yet briefly clapped at the end of each song. Chris and I found the whole scenario entertaining but probably not in the way the Fantasy Duo hoped. We possibly didn’t conceal our amusement very well because the young hipster waitress (with a very deep voice) came over out of the blue rolling her eyes saying she was sorry we were there for such sad music. She qualified the ‘sad’ as meaning appalling not tear jerking. She made it quite apparent that she wasn’t a fan and said she thought people came along because they thought it was funny. Good to know it wasn’t just us then. It made for a memorable evening.
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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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Let’s Kill Hitler - Doctor Who blog
(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)
Oh Christ, do I have to talk about this piece of shit?
I’ve made it no secret how much I despise Steven Moffat’s writing. His convoluted series arcs, his painfully obvious plot twists, his smarmy ‘too kool for skool’ dialogue that’s often dripping in pretentious bullshit, his one dimensional ‘quirky’ characters and his casual sexism. Even the few good stories he’s written have at least some of these problems. Let’s Kill Hitler is definitely one of the worst stories he’s ever written. Every problem I listed, Let’s Kill Hitler contains in excess. I HATE this episode with a passion. I usually watch these episodes twice before writing a review in order to properly analyse every detail. and that can be excruciating when it comes to other bad episodes. With Let’s Kill Hitler, it felt like my own personal torture. Halfway through my second viewing, I was about ready to jump through the TV screen and start throttling the characters to death.
After some bullshit involving crop circles and establishing that, after all this time looking for Melody Pond, the Doctor has achieved fuck all, we’re introduced to Mels.
Yes. Mels.
Well gee. Could she be Melody Pond? Nah! That would be ridiculous! Mels has a darker skin tone than Melody. It’s not as if she’s a Time Lord that could regenerate or anything... OH WAIT!
Oh God. Where do I start with Mels? What a smug, grating, unlikeable piece of work this is (also she’s the first woman of colour to appear in Leadworth and she’s a criminal. Lovely). I was about to say I can’t see how Amy could possibly stand to be around someone like Mels, let alone name her child after her, but then I remembered this is Amy we’re talking about here. She’s just as big of a bitch as Mels is. Just look at the way she treats Rory as they grew up. At this point I’m convinced Rory isn’t so much in love with Amy as he is feeling the effects of Stockholm Syndrome. So no. I have no problem buying Amy and Mels would be friends. They’re both utter bitches. I’m sure they got on like a house on fire.
You know, considering what close friends Mels and Amy supposedly were and how incredibly influential she apparently was in Amy’s life, it’s strange that this is the first time we’ve ever heard of her, which suggests that Moffat just pulled Mels out of the darkest depths of his arse in order to facilitate his shit plot. And as shit plots go, this is very shit. Worthlessly, pathetically, incontinently shit. Moffat has written some bad stories before, but this one simply takes the cake. NOTHING makes any sense whatsoever.
The Doctor and co crash-land in Berlin 1938 where they encounter the Teselecta. A robot controlled by miniaturised people who travel in time punishing historical criminals. Like with the Headless Monks in A Good Man Goes To War, the Teselecta isn’t an inherently bad idea. It could be potentially interesting. The problem is it barely gets a look in due to Moffat’s bullshit series arc. The story is really about Mels/River. The Teselecta, Hitler and Berlin are really little more than just a backdrop. This could have been set on a space station or in a Nandos and it would have been the same.
So Mels regenerates into River Song, at which point she’s labelled by the people in the Teselecta as ‘the woman who kills the Doctor’ and ‘the worst war criminal in history.’ Yes. River, who killed one man, is a worse criminal than Hitler, who facilitated the deaths of millions of people. Fuck you Moffat.
Okay there’s a lot to unpack here. I apologise if this review is coming across as a bit sloppy and all over the shop, but there’s just so many problems with Let’s Kill Hitler that its hard to know where to start.
Let’s start with the whole Time Lord thing. River can regenerate because she was conceived in the TARDIS. Well that’s bollocks. It’s like The Big Bang all over again. If a TARDIS can destroy the space/time continuum if it were to explode and can infect foetuses, why on Earth would the Time Lords have ever let one off the assembly line? The most popular excuse Moffat fans like to use is that the TARDIS is faulty. Um... yeah, because of its chameleon circuit. Not because it’s a radioactive deathtrap.
Also why would the Silence need to create a Time Lord to kill the Doctor? Think back to The Impossible Astronaut. The Doctor died from two gunshots. The first to start the regeneration process and the second to finish him off. You don’t need a Time Lord for that. Any old fucker with a gun would do.
Which brings me to the Silence’s motivations. So they take Amy’s kid and brainwash her into becoming an assassin (not a psychopath Moffat. Would it kill you to use Wikipedia?) by telling her all the crimes and evils in the universe the Doctor didn’t solve, thus proving what a bad man he really is.
I’m sorry, but even the village idiot could spot the flaws in that logic. The Doctor isn’t a God. He can’t be everywhere at once. And if he reversed every bad thing that ever happened in history, the space/time continuum would probably have more holes in it than a colander. Also, why is the Doctor the only sole person responsible for this? What about the fucking Teselecta? What about the Time Agency? What about your DIY TARDISes? The Doctor doesn’t hold a monopoly on time travel. If you want to fix history, why not do it yourself?
And then we get another bullshit mystery in the form of the Question. The first question ever to be asked. Hidden in plain sight...
......
NAH! Come on! Even by Moffat’s standards, that’s just too stupid.
Before I dive deeper into this cesspool of convoluted nonsense surrounding River Song, I suppose I should point out I’ve got nothing against Alex Kingston. I think she’s a great actor and has done some good stuff over the years. It’s not her fault that she’s been lumbered with such a shit character.
River is at her most annoying here. The smarmy, post regeneration dialogue is utterly cringeworthy and there’s just a sprinkling of casual misogyny thrown in for good measure, such as Mels saying she’s concentrating on a dress size just when she’s about to regenerate and River exclaiming she needs to weigh herself. And that’s not the worst of it. Everything River says has a flirtatious or sexual undertone to it, to the point where it becomes nauseating, there’s yet another scene where the Doctor has to ask Rory’s permission to hug Amy as though she’s an object rather than a person, the Captain of the Teselecta at one point makes a comment about the size of a female colleague’s arse, and then there’s this unforgivable line from the Doctor when Amy asks about River’s flip-flopping goals and motivations:
“She's been brainwashed, it makes sense to her. Plus, she is a woman.”
Moffat, seriously, go and fuck yourself! This isn’t remotely charming or funny. It’s just sexist as shit.
Matt Smith gets lumbered with shit too sadly. The Doctor gets poisoned by River’s lipstick (again, why do the Silence need a Time Lord for that? This makes no sodding sense), at which point he spends the majority of the episode flailing about on the floor like a prat. Not only is this horrible to watch due to Matt Smith’s god awful panto acting, there’s also no tension because we know he doesn’t die here. The death at the lake is a fixed point in time. He HAS to die there. So all this poison stuff just feels like a massive waste of time. In fact not even the fixed point in time stuff makes sense. If the Doctor’s death is a fixed point, why are the Silence bothering to kill him now with poison lipstick? And how do you create a fixed point in the first place? Who determines what’s fixed and what isn’t? I’ve always found the concept of a fixed point in time to have a slight whiff of bullshit about it, but this is just a whole compost heap of bullshit.
And how does the Doctor get out of this one? River gives up her remaining regenerations to bring him back to life. Because apparently she’s fallen in love with him.
Yeah! This isn’t a slow, gradual thing. She just suddenly changes her mind. She’s just sporadically in love with him now. Moffat doesn’t do anything to properly justify this change of heart, unless he's suggesting that the Doctor still caring for his companions on his deathbed was enough to make River’s heart flutter, which it isn’t. Maybe Mels had a crush on the Doctor growing up, but that’s bullshit too. Imagine if Mels was brainwashed to kill Hitler. All her life she’s been fed all the reasons why Hitler is evil and deserves to die. Would it be likely that she would fall in love with Hitler? Of course not! It’s the same principle with the Doctor. if she’s been brainwashed to kill him, it’s unlikely she would have any positive feelings for him whatsoever. So I’m not buying any of this.
But the biggest problem of all is the lack of characterisation and empathy. River Song isn’t a character. She’s a plot device. We never fully explore how she feels about the Doctor and she’s never written consistently. Her thoughts and motivations change depending on what the plot requires. River needs to save the Doctor now, so she just does. And in Moffat’s rush to connect all the dots in his bullshit series arc, he forgets quite possibly the most important characters in this story:
YEAH! Amy and Rory! You know? RIVER SONG’S PARENTS!
Over the course of this two parter, Amy and Rory discover a secret pregnancy, have the baby, lose the baby, realise the baby is both River Song and their best friend Mels due to convoluted time travel stuff, learn that their daughter is the one that kills the Doctor and they ultimately lose out on parenting their own child. That’s some pretty heavy stuff. Pity none of this is ever explored. In fact the one time this is touched upon, Moffat actually plays it up for laughs. What the fuck is wrong with you, you incompetent prick?
And then, just to rub salt into the wound, there’s this really weird line where Mels says it all worked out in the end because Amy and Rory got to raise her during the course of their childhoods, which is just prime Moffat idiocy right there. There’s this huge emotional tragedy taking place here, but Moffat appears to be the only one who hasn’t noticed. His attention is in all the wrong places, focusing on the mechanics of his convoluted arc rather than exploring what the characters are thinking and feeling. I suppose you could argue that exploring these kinds of themes might be too heavy for a family show, but if that’s the case, why is Moffat introducing the topic in the first place?
Like I said at the beginning, I’ve never liked Steven Moffat’s writing very much, but Let’s Kill Hitler was the point where I went from not liking Moffat to hating Moffat. This is easily one of the worst episodes he’s ever written and indeed one of the worst episodes in all of Doctor Who. Whereas A Good Man Goes To War was annoyingly stupid, Let’s Kill Hitler was insultingly stupid. It’s ill conceived, poorly written, utterly misogynistic and completely tone deaf. Fuck this episode and fuck you Moffat.
#let's kill hitler#steven moffat#doctor who#eleventh doctor#matt smith#amy pond#karen gillan#rory williams#arthur darvill#river song#alex kingston#bbc#review#spoilers
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New Xbox One Games for December 10 to 13
New Xbox One Games for December 10 to 13.
Fishing: Barents Sea – Complete Edition (December 10)
Experience life as a fishboat captain, starting out with a small boat inherited from your grandfather, earn money doing fishing with longline, net or trawl, buy upgrades, bigger and better fishing boats like trawlers and a lot more. Make your grandfather proud!
Eternum Ex (December 10)
A retro platformer with the look and feel of classic ’80s arcade cabinet games. With simple core gameplay mechanics, an increasing difficulty, and exciting gameplay, and with a very precise control, Eternum Ex is great for retro hardcore gamers and for those who want to get a start in retro games.
Terminator: Resistance (December 10)
There is no fate but what YOU make.
Experience the events leading up to the decisive final battle for the fate of mankind in the war against the machines. Terminator: Resistance, is a first-person shooter set during the 'Future War' scenario that was only glimpsed at in the iconic films, 'THE TERMINATOR' and 'T2: JUDGMENT DAY'. The machines are destined to lose, but at what cost?
Run and gun or sneak and hack through Skynet’s defences! Level up your skills and explore a post-apocalyptic world for scraps to trade and craft! Interact with a motley group of survivors and change their fates!
Features:
Focused, Single-player, First-Person Shooter ExperienceUse Skill points to develop your character from a nameless soldier and into your ideal action heroGather and trade resources with other survivorsFace off again iconic enemies from the films including HK’s and Infiltrators
Avicii Invector (December 10)
Belt up and blast into the rhythmic regions of unexplored space in AVICII Invector.
Created in collaboration with the late superstar DJ, AVICII Invector is a pulse-pounding, frenetic rhythm-action experience.
Soar through vocal melodies, sweep each fade and attack every beat in 25 of AVICII’s biggest hits, including global chart toppers: Without You, Wake Me Up and Lay Me Down.
Fly solo or recreate the party feeling of an AVICII concert with heart-thumping, competitive gameplay.
Each track is built to perfectly match the on-screen visuals taking you through a musical odyssey of serene exploration.
Find your rhythm, feel the beat and keep the musical journey flowing.
https://youtu.be/u1xrJdUF2qI
Jurassic World Evolution: Return to Jurassic Park (December 10)
Following the events of the iconic 1993 film, you’re invited to return to the island where it all started. Reclaim the park from the dinosaurs,rebuild beloved locations, and overcome new challenges guided by Dr. Alan Grant, Dr. Ellie Sattler, and Dr. Ian Malcolm in an original narrative voiced by the film cast.
Rift Keeper (December 10)
Embark on your journey, travel through rifts and restore the balance as the Rift Keeper in this handcrafted 2D roguelite platformer with challenging, fast-paced action gameplay.
Duty called and the Rift Keeper woke up from his deep slumber. The little town he was summoned was silent as if it's the end. He opened the church's rusty old door and four old men wearing red robes greeted him with a grim smile. One of the priests stepped forward and said, "The Gates are open".
Features:
Embark on your journey, travel through 30 different dungeons! Grow powerful as enemies keep getting harder. How far can you go?Loot epic gear as you progress through the dungeons. Find new weapons and accessories, grow your power!Unique enemies to fight with and many more to come!30 handcrafted dungeons!
Metaloid: Origin (December 11)
A fast-paced, run ‘n’ gun 2D platformer. Take on the role of one out of three android warriors and dash through nine different levels in order to save their planet from a robot army led by Lucian Corp, whom invade their planet and exploit the planetary resources to fuel their galactic war efforts.
Stone (December, 2020)
G’day, I’m Stone. Here’s our Xbox page. Play this single-player third-person movie length interactive story and see what happened. Yeah it was rough, but a good life lesson. Enjoy, and remember don’t do this at home ya bunch of crazy animals. By the way this story really isn’t going to be for everyone. So enter at your own risk, mate. Plus this was created by a global team including the narrative designer of QUANTUM BREAK, CONTROL and VFX artist from GRAVITY, PROMETHEUS & more. You're in good hands, mate.
FLAMING FEATURES:
3rd person so you can rotate a drone cam around me and move me like VoodooDeep, reference heavy interactive story never told, mate.Drinking, dancing and smoking for your pleasure.Map based free roam so you can explore the world at your own pace. Here’s some tips:Echo for great techno, Smoky Possum for some liquid gold and my flat. It’s comfy mates.A cast of my mates. Like Les, weirdo and kanye lover and my gorgeous chookie Alex.BTW if you see Cockie, tell her I’m sorry again. If you see Devil, run, run, run!Amazing licensed tracks from sick up and coming indie musicians at the Record Shop.Like Ryan Little, Luchii, Ilkka S, Warchief, James Tottakai & MoreSeriously the music is great. There’s hip hop, trap, stoner rock and heavy techno!Also THERE”S CLASSIC MOVIES!!! Yeah you can watch film classics likeSentimental Bloke, Night of the Living Dead & Story of the Kelly Gang ( CONVICT REPRESENT )Hang out with me.It’ll be bonza and hell, I think you’ll be a better person from it too. Your mate, Stone
Features:
Interactive StoryLicensed SoundtrackClassic CinemaStoner Noir
Headliner: NoviNews (December 11)
WHAT IF YOU CONTROLLED THE NEWS?
A stack of news article sits on your desk, two stampers on each side - green to approve, red to reject. Your reporting team is hacking away in the background as corporate music plays through the loudspeaker. It's time to make decisions. Will you endorse nationalized healthcare, even though your love interest is worried about increased wait times? Will you demonize the new synthetic alcoholic drink, even though your boss stressed they are an important investor? Will you support current government, as tensions grow between the neighboring country?
After work, you emerge on the streets of Novistan, shaped by the very news you publish. Perhaps you will see more graffiti, angry bums or even a riot? Or perhaps you will turn the nation into peaceful utopia, filled with cameras and drones watching your every step? How will your channel address tragic events about to happen? Will you agree to meet the clandestine group of truthtellers, or stop to watch the Prime Minister's speech?
On the way home you meet with three main characters: Evie, your co-worker and immigrant, worried about her health and growing xenophobic sentiment; your brother Justin, an aspiring comedian struggling with impostor syndrome and social anxiety; finally Rudy, a single father trying to provide for his little girl and keep his store afloat, while a mega-mart opens up next door. Each day provides a glimpse into their life and how the media shapes their beliefs.
But every Headliner deserves to relax at home from the stress of the job. Listen to the radio and unwind on the comfy couch bought with hard-earned cash, as you watch the city burn outside the window. Perhaps splurge on treats to feed your doggo? Adopt a drone? Have your brother over for dinner? Or maybe keep your doors locked, hoarding every penny, as your apartment slowly fills with piles of cash?
After good night's sleep, it's time to once again face to boss, new articles, a growing sense of responsibility, and.... power.
Ultimate Racing 2D (December 11)
Ultimate Racing 2D is the ultimate top-down racing game, with 35 racing classes, over 45 visual stunning tracks, multiple career modes, championship mode and offline multiplayer mode.
Make your way from Karts to Formula Racing in the extensive career mode, play local multiplayer with up to 8 players or create your own custom championship. Race on 45+ international tracks from all continents. Besides Road Courses the game contains Ovals, Dirt Ovals, Historic Tracks, Karting Circuits, and Ice Speedway Tracks. Choose from a variety of racing disciplines like Open-Wheel, Oval Racing, Dirt Racing, Historic Racing, Touring Cars and Sports Car Racing. Drive your favorite vehicles, from Formula Cars to Motorbikes, Trucks, Supercars, Stock Cars, Tractors, Quads, Karts, Forklift Trucks, GT Cars, Speedway Bikes and many more. Experience thrilling top down racing in one of the best-looking 2D racing games.
Features:
35 racing classes300+ different cars45+ tracksLocal multiplayer up to 8 playersCareer mode, Championship mode and Quick Race modeUp to 20 cars on trackCustomize teamsPit stop, qualifying and boost optionsRealistic car physics and sound effectsFun gameplay with exciting AI fightsVisual stunning 2D graphicsWeather effectsSpectator mode
SuperEpic: The Entertainment War (December 12)
Join a racoon and a llama in their quest to save videogames as we know them! SuperEpic is a Metroidvania style action-adventure game filled with humor and satire. The gameplay is nonlinear and fast-paced, with exploration and combo-based combat the weapon of choice against the evil Regnantcorp!
Pathologic 2 (December 12)
Pathologic 2 is a narrative-driven dramatic thriller about fighting a deadly outbreak in a secluded rural town. The town is dying. Face the realities of a collapsing society as you make difficult choices in seemingly lose-lose situations. The plague isn’t just a disease. You can’t save everyone.
The plague is devouring the town. The chief local healer is dead, and you are now to take his place. You’ll have to look for unexpected allies. The local kids are hiding something. Try playing by their rules.
You only have 12 days.
12 days in an odd town ravaged by a deadly disease.Time is of the essence: if you don’t manage it carefully, it’ll simply run out. You’ll have to choose how to spend the priceless minutes you have.Survival thriller. You’ll have to manage your bodily functions, offsetting hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and so on. It doesn’t boil down to scavenging resources. Surviving on your own is hard; you’ll have to win over allies.An uphill battle. Managing your bodily parameters may seem bearable at first, and as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder. Your own body is only waiting for an opportunity to give up and betray you. Things are changing from bad to worse and the odds are stacked against you.A duel with an enemy you can’t kill. Your main foe is the plague itself, an incorporeal and malevolent entity that you have to defeat… without having the means to. It’s more powerful and more treacherous than you can imagine.Loot, murder, mug, steal, barter, beg… or don’t. You need resources to survive, and it’s up to you how to obtain them.The fights are short, ungraceful, and vicious. They’re not always lethal though. Many people—yourself included—would prefer to exchange their wallet for their life.
Cardpocalypse (December 12)
On her first day at Dudsdale Elementary, 10-year old Jess accidentally gets everybody’s favorite collectible card game banned. Troubles arise when mutants from the game invade the real world, and it’s up to Jess and friends to stop them. Make friends, play cards, twist the rules, become a Mega Mutant Power Pets master, and save the world in this single-player RPG about being a kid growing up in the ‘90s.
Dreamwalker: Never Fall Asleep (December 13)
In a small tourist town, a young girl, the daughter of the town’s mayor, falls in coma due to an accident. The inability of the local physicians’ forces Mrs. Mayor to seek the aid of a psychiatrist, who is rumored to possess a unique ability to traverse people’s dreams, a Dreamwalker.
Aborigenus (December 13)
A small adventure platformer with RPG-elements in a primal world. Hunt the aggressive fauna, learn new abilities and fight with the whole enemy army. Choose who you are – a shaman, a warrior or a hunter. Can you save the flying islands from the evil?
Dead End Job (December 13)
Take on the role of Hector Plasm, a worker at Ghoul-B-Gone, the Number One expert in paranormal pest control, as you’re tasked with heading to haunted offices, restaurants, and other everyday buildings before freeing them of unwanted guests. Enter this madcap, whacky world to bust up ghosts in this procedurally generated, couch co-op, twin-stick shooter.
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Hi. I have read most of your stories but I'm definitely catching up with them. love them. Do you have the links to your various story links please and thanks :)
Thank you, my dear :) I’m sorry to respond kinda late to this, but I figured that it would take me a while to write a reply to this, so I saved it for later… well, later became very late, but here it is. I don’t really know what you mean by “catching up” and what the last story was you’ve read, but here’s what I’ve done in past year:
Whouffaldi Longfics:
The Parenting Adventure: With a heavy heart the Doctor has decided to move on. He has left Clara after the events on Gallifrey and is ready for a new adventure – when suddenly a girl appears in his TARDIS. Elsie is starting to fade because Clara should be pregnant with their daughter but isn’t and Elsie has come back from the future to fix it and bring her stubborn parents together. A plan that sounds a lot easier than it actually is because they are running out of time. Post Hell Bent.
All Inclusive: When his sister Missy convinces him to go on a cruise the Doctor has no idea that she is sending him on a party & singles cruise, determined to find him a match. It’s even more of a surprise to him when he wakes up the morning after a party and realizes he is married to the annoying woman who vomited on his shoes on the first evening. But all will be well and the marriage can be annulled back on land – as long as he and Clara don’t consummate it.
Heart of Steel: David Oswald is dead, killed by his enemies. The Doctor, his right hand man, sets out to find his daughter Clara to protect her from the same fate but once she realizes just what kind of business her father was in she is dead set on having her revenge. The Doctor is torn between protecting her from her father’s enemies and giving her everything she wants because the little girl he once knew is now a strong willed and beautiful woman. Mafia AU.
Roses in Winter: It’s 1946 and the Doctor, the best private detective there is, receives a call from a young gentleman. Danny, who has just returned from war, came home to find his fiancé Edith has disappeared and he offers the Doctor a great sum to find her. The first thing the Doctor finds out about the vanished girl: her name is actually Clara and her story is more than fascinating. The longer he follows her the bigger his dilemma grows: give in to his feelings or help Danny reunite with Clara?
Matters of the Heart: After her boyfriend’s death Clara Oswald takes comfort in the fact that a part of him still lives on and she seeks out the man who carries her loved one’s heart inside him. John Smith would like nothing more than to resume his life like it was before the surgery, but he struggles to adjust and somehow he finds he has a soft spot for the woman who lost the man that saved his life. Will John find it in him to change or is Clara still not ready to let go and accept that just because they share a heart, it doesn’t mean that they are the same? Regeneration AU.
Third Time’s A Charm: The first time he met her, she was undoubtedly too young for him. The second time he was her professor and she was his student, dating some silly guy with a bow tie. Now she is back, teaching at the same university, and the Doctor is determined not to let this opportunity slip away. However, Clara is now engaged to a maths teacher.
Pseudonymously: John Smith knows two things for sure: 1. He definitely has a crush on his secretive editor who publishes his erotic novels and 2. Clara Oswald, the woman who keeps refusing his science fiction stories, is a stupid cow. Clara Oswald is certain of two things: 1. She would do about anything for a night with the Doctor and 2. that John Smith, who keeps begging her to publish his sci-fi novels, is a rude arse. But what happens when they find out who the other is?
Lost & Found: Clara and John Smith have everything they could possibly want: each other’s love, a nice house, jobs and wonderful plans for their future together. Until Clara receives a call that is going to change everything and she finds her life derailing between a husband who doesn’t remember her, a troubling twin sister and more new complications. Memory Loss AU.
On The Road To Nowhere: When a strange man with a guitar stumbles into her diner one night, Clara Oswald has no idea that her life is about to take a wild turn. John Smith is running from something, but so is she and together they embark on a journey that they swear will lead them nowhere. No getting attached, no talking about the past, just two lost souls living for the moment. But the past has a way of catching up… Rockstar!AU, Diner!AU, Road Trip!AU.
Whouffaldi OneShots, OneShot Collections:
Communicate: The TARDIS translation circuit is broken. The Doctor doesn’t speak English. But there are three words that the two of them still understand perfectly despite their communication failure.
Don’t Marry Someone Else Before Me: ‘I had a huge crush on my babysitter as a kid and I found him on Facebook and wrote him ‘Remember how hard it was to get me to bed as a child? Well, not any longer ;)’ - Whouffaldi AU. Humour.
Further Parenting Adventures: Set after “The Parenting Adventure”. Snippets of the family life of the Doctor, Clara and Elsie in OneShots.
The Furry Companion: Clara adopts a stray cat, yet the Doctor isn’t exactly excited about the idea of bringing a pet into the TARDIS.
Other Doctor Who, contains hints of Whouffaldi:
Time Clash: With Jack the Ripper on the loose in the streets of modern London and more and more historical figures emerging from out of nowhere, the Doctor has to accept the help of a young girl named Ruby to prevent the world from sinking into chaos. Yet when he is faced with a temptation almost too great to resist it is up to Ruby to prove her worth. Set immediately after Hell Bent. Alternative S10. Part 1/12.
Crossover:
The Intern: Clara had wanted this government internship badly, however when she finds her boss, Malcolm Tucker, not only rude but also very disrespectful towards her it drives her to the brink of giving up. Until she decides to accept the challenge. When Malcolm finally shows her the respect she deserves they eventually find themselves in an emotional mess that could threaten his career. Malcolm/Clara.
Colepaldi:
Complicated: "Relationships are only as complicated as you make them", he repeated softly and somehow it was enough for her to understand that they could do this and get away with it.“ The story of a reunion, a convention in America, an accidental nap in a shared bed, a jet lag and a bad decision.
All Good Things: One year and six months have passed since Jenna’s departure from Doctor Who and despite new jobs and new boyfriends and more opportunities than she can count, Jenna doesn’t feel happy. As she already begins to think that she is going crazy, she receives news from Peter that she would never have expected.
The Tunnel Incident (Oneshot): Peter and Jenna got stuck in a tunnel on their way to the read-through, yet he doesn’t understand why everyone is laughing about this excuse.
Changing Hearts (still in progress): When Peter returns to London after having finished Doctor Who, he wants nothing more than to spend time with his family. However, he soon finds that they have been keeping secrets from him. Confused, disappointed and heading straight towards a midlife crisis, he moves in with Jenna in the spur of the moment. But the trouble has only just begun.
So, I don’t know how far you’ve read but this is what I’ve written since last summer :) Hope it helps.
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Dear creator,
Thank you so much for reading this and signing up for this wonderful annual conspiracy!
I hope you have a lovely time, and that this letter can contribute to it. If any of the fandoms below pique your interest, I’m delighted already, and very interested to hear your thoughts on them.
Fandoms: Nimona, In Other Lands, Captive Prince, Machineries of the Empire
As for reading preferences, I’m happy with a wide variety of tones and genres, from lighthearted shenanigans to dramatic casefics, and pretty much all ratings, but the core of all stories I love is always character interaction. How they play off each other and bring out their best/worst, how they would react to a divergence of events, how true would they stay to their selves in a different setting - these are the kind of questions I’m all chinhands for. POV games, a missing scene, a casefic, canon expansion, backstories and what-ifs are all fair game, so choose your weapon!
I would be very grateful if you could avoid a/b/o and similar kinktropes, played-straight soulmate fic, and character interpretation that runs contrary to their core values. If in doubt, please reach out to me on anon - the askbox is open!
NIMONA (any characters)
It is no mystery at all why I completely imprinted on this book. What is a mystery, however, is how I survived to this day and age without having loved Nimona for years - how did I even live unaware of its existence, up until an impulse purchase a month ago? WHAT A TRAVESTY.
Anyway, I massively adore Nimona to bits: a perfect fusion of story and pictures, chaotic evil Nimona (CHOMP!), Ballister of the big heart and stoic love for strays and SCIENCE, Ambrosius of awkward good instincts and poor decisions - I just want to pinch everyone’s cheeks and hug them to my chest. For six hours. Approximately. It’s open for negotiation :’)
I’m requesting any characters because I’d be honestly delighted by seeing each one of them <3
A day in casa de Blackheart with Nimona and Ballister! Hatching evil schemes or having a pizza night - or both. BOTH IS GOOD. A flashback to Ballister and Ambrosius’s younger days (that christmas special *clutches heart*). A future with Nimona infiltrating Ballister’s lab and his & Ambrosius’s couch with popcorn and underhanded science! Nimona grumpily acquiescing to Goldenloin’s presence in Ballister’s life! Generally ANY AND ALL HIJINKS feat. heartwarmth and unapologetic monster girl love and fierce protectiveness of each other, much in the spirit of the lovely, lovely source material.
IN OTHER LANDS (Luke Sunborn)
Elliot is a spectacular narrator. Novel-shaped case in point: In Other Lands.
Having said that, what I really, really want to see is a story that makes Luke a narrator, or otherwise puts him at the center. I have it on good authority that he makes one fucking adorable narrator (novella-shaped case in point: Wings in the Morning), but why stop there, right?
Luke/Elliot, either post-canon or slightly amending canon, is always a delight. Luke crushing on Elliot for years in a resigned, semi-unaware (or aware!) manner - he gives Elliot Dale’s name only as a distraction, to get Elliot off his back, and watches with horrified eyes how every member of his family is suddenly out there to set him up with the wrong boy! Luke handling the thought of Elliot the boyfriend with awkwardness unbefitting a Trigon champion (granted, Elliot is kinda more prickly than an average glass ball). Luke having 110% confidence in Elliot and admiring him sass people into submission from the sidelines.
A look at Luke’s friendship with Serene - completely compatible with Luke forever crushing on Elliot, just saying ^^. I suspect lack of Elliot’s Serene goggles could do marvels to building nuance to her character: a little less reverse gender comedy just for the sake of comedy, a little more someone who is clever enough to balance multiple things, connect the dots, and learn, and stand by what she believes is right.
Competence kinkkk. Forever admiring the bookish people, refusing to stop trying to catch up, and zero time spent being conceited about own achievements while fully embracing his role of a champion and defender - that’s the Luke I love <3 Luke’s brand of leadership & charisma - an introverted champion, well-loved by people and easily tired of company of not his people.
Figuring out life after graduation! Casefic of them solving a mystery and preventing a war breakout! Getting assignments and storming the castles! Building cross-cultural competence by throwing Elliot at new people and watching him sign up new pen friends and treaties!
Sunborn family fic! A holiday get together? Drunken exchange of family stories? Another terrible competition that Elliot boycotts? Rachel reading Luke’s letters from year one and with great amusement observing the progression of his “THAT ELLIOT” feelings. God I love the Sunborns <3
I’m not particularly fond of Dale, on understanding that he got enough screentime as is already I’d be grateful if you didn’t center the fic around him. Obviously no objections to him as part of class ensemble, whose names Luke will never bloody remember.
CAPTIVE PRINCE (Damen, Laurent, Auguste, Jokaste)
You would not have wanted to see me at the peak of my CP obsession - dignity readers for miles around were in the red zone for months, I can tell you that. Even my bitter disappointment with many things in the third book didn’t survive the onslaught of feelings that overcome me every time I turn my thoughts to this series. R e g u l a r l y. (If you don’t think Prince’s Gambit is the high point of modern literature, f i t e m e)
Things that make me happy:
Laurent/Damen endgame, always.
Auguste! Alive and well and fiercely proud of Laurent and quite possibly giving young Damen - his admiring bro - confused boners. Which he manfully swoonstruggles against, because see above.
Clever, competent Damen that drives Laurent up the wall of his fervent refusal to admit any of it affects him
Laurent POVs in general. There is nothing more delightful than a well-crafted narration of acerbic denial of hearteyes, self-crafted personality, hardwon competence and utter self-awareness.
Did I say competence porn yet? Hearteyes, motherfucker, hearteyes!!
Jokaste-Laurent queenbee friendships - vipers united!
Consider this: FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS arrangement for a CERTAIN AGENDA feat. Jokaste and Laurent - preceding or purposefully leading to Laurent/Damen endgame. Benefits as imagined by Damen, the poor cookie? Fake dating for purposes of short-circuiting Damen’s brain with the blonde ratio? :DD
Mafia/noir AUs *swoon* In fact, a variety of modern or historic AUs would be an a+ sandbox to play in and watch the chemistry unfold.
On another note, I have the soft spot the size of Delfeur for Nicaise and particularly Nicaise & Laurent spiky sibling-like affection, so if you think your story could benefit from that, please don’t hesitate to include it <3
I’m absolutely okay with fic that would not include all four - it’s just that I couldn’t omit either Auguste and Jokaste from the list of happy things. You are most welcome to include only one of the two, or none, if you want to concentrate on Laurent and Damen only.
Canon divergences, what-ifs and AUs are super-welcome for this canon. Please feel free to play to your heart’s content!
MACHINERIES OF THE EMPIRE (Shuos Mikodez)
I didn’t know how to request what would essentially be just heartfelt sobbing of PLEASE WRITE FIC FOR THIS AMAZING MEME ART (“please send help my family is starving!!”) - but if! By any chance! This is what you want to do, please disregard everything from math rules to heretic calendrical rituals, and go for it :DD i keep shoving this picture into all of my friends’ faces and get vaguely upset that they don’t immediately agree with me on how brilliant it is; maybe I should revise my strategy and give them the books to read first, hmm.
I’m fond of most of the cast of the books, especially of how competent and done with nonsense they are 99% of their screen time. Mentor relationships were amazing - Cheris and Jedao in Ninefox Gambit was a thing of true beauty, Zehun and Mikodez continuously delight me, and I’m looking forward to what book 3 will bring on this front, too (Nija? Please say Nija!). But as I need to choose something that won’t be guaranteed to make the matching algorithm cry, let me center it around a character that delights me and makes others cry instead.
Mikodez in his younger days! Zehun, I’m so sorry for your loss of sleep and possibly hair, teenagers are the worst, teenage Miki is the worst best Miki, and I am dying to hear all about his notorious Academy heroics.
Mikodez, Zehun, Nija and Cheris, the most terrifying parental equation of this calendar <3
Mikodez and his Questionable Alliances. Kujen “I had a friend once and then the leash broke” Nirai. Jedao - how does Miki’s view of the man change with Cheris in the game, and her (literal) insights about the dead mad general?
Mikodez throwing endless shade on all other factions, especially Andan. (Sorry, Andan. At least you’re pretty.)
Mikodez and his secret humanitarian agenda that he will politely deny forever, get fake-distracted by one of his bazillion hobbies and miss whatever sleep time he had scheduled in the day because he will inevitably get genuinely carried away. Every. Fucking. Time.
As a sidenote, I’m terribly fond of Vahenz <3 Bring her back! Let Vahenz have her fun! Let Mikodez meet his true competition for world domination and in the race towards diabetes.
I really liked Istradez, and would be happy to see him among the army of Mikodez’s high powered babysitters, but am not really in the market for Mikodez/Istradez shipfics.
Thank you very much for reading the letter! Please be assured I’m super excited to read everything you write already <3
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A row over staged photos, a health scare and unanswered messages: why Thomas Markle missed his own daughter’s wedding. The second of three days of exclusive extracts from Finding Freedom: Harry and Meghan and the Making of a Modern Royal Family
As Harry and Meghan were revelling in their engagement in November 2017, a newspaper published an article about her father, Thomas Markle, that it had been piecing together for months. The story showed pictures of his home atop a 120ft bluff in Rosarito Beach, a quiet Mexican resort town that overlooked the Pacific Ocean, and had details of his life, such as the red Ford Escape or silver Volvo he drove to his local Walmart to stock up on groceries or to the storage unit where he had bragged to the owner about his daughter who was on television. But there were no quotes, as any time a reporter approached him, he responded with the line prepared for him by palace officials: “I can’t speak out of respect for my family.”
Once the article came out with his home’s location, Thomas Markle had to deal with constant intrusions from reporters and photographers. Over the course of several phone calls, Harry and Meghan told him he should do his best to ignore all press. But, ultimately, he didn’t listen. With some encouragement from his other daughter, Samantha — Meghan’s half-sister, 17 years older than her, who managed to get a cut of the deal in the process — Thomas took up an idea from a photographer, Jeff Rayner. Rayner’s idea was for Thomas to pose for some pictures: reading a book about British history at a coffee shop, visiting an internet café to read the latest news stories about his daughter and future son-in-law and other setups.
The photos ran in outlets around the world but did little to help his public image. In fact, the person they seemed to help was Rayner, who banked at least $130,000 for his photo agency from their sales. Thomas took 30%.
Just one week before Thomas was due to attend Harry and Meghan’s wedding at Windsor Castle in May 2018, the palace got word that a Sunday tabloid intended to run information that would expose the “candid” frames as fakes. At Harry’s instruction, the palace communications team, in consultation with the legal team, began working on a strategy to stop the publication of the embarrassing story.
First, though, Meghan needed to hear straight from her dad what had happened. According to a trusted confidant who was with Meghan as events unfolded, she told her father, “Dad, we need to know if this is true or not, because my team is going to try to stop this story running — if you are telling me it’s fake.
“If they do that, they’re going out of their way to protect you, Dad,” Meghan said over the phone. “You’re telling me you’re being victimised, right?”
He lied to Meghan. “Of course,” he promised, failing to admit he had participated in the staging of the photos.
“Every single time she was calling him, she was like, ‘Dad, I love you. I just want you to know I love you. Everything is fine. Just get here. We’ll have the wedding. We’ll celebrate. Don’t worry about any of this stuff. Let’s just put it behind us,’” the source said. “You want to believe the best, right?”
The source continued: “I’ve heard her say, ‘My dad never sought this out. I really believe that he’s the victim, and now I feel sad because I believe he’s been fully corrupted.’”
Before Meghan got off the phone to her father, she reminded him that a car would be arriving outside his door the next day to drive him to Los Angeles. From there, he was to make the transatlantic trip to London, where all the arrangements had been handled. He would be accompanied door to door, with chauffeured cars, personal security and a guide to answer any question. He wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.
Meanwhile, the communications staff at Kensington Palace did all they could to keep Thomas’s ill-conceived plan from exploding, collaborating with him to issue a report with the Independent Press Standards Organisation and a notice to UK newspaper editors about the situation. But to no avail: the morning after Meghan phoned her father, the headlines read: “Meghan’s dad staged photos with the paparazzi”. Screenshots from closed-circuit cameras made it clear he had staged each and every one.
Meghan was devastated by her father’s deception, but she was also concerned for his welfare. Thomas hadn’t demonstrated the best judgment, to be sure. But the wedding was only a week away. She was desperate to get him to London, where he would be protected from the press by palace escorts and protection officers.
She called her father right away, but he didn’t answer. She called again. And again, and again. She left some version of the same message each time: “Dad, I still love you. Nothing has changed. We’re going to get you safely to London. I’m sending a car to come and get you.”
Despite Meghan’s barrage of voicemails and texts, her father not only refused to get in the waiting car to the airport; he didn’t respond to a single message from his daughter.
“My God, my phone,” Meghan told a friend, explaining that she’d called her father at least 20 times.
“I’m assuming he’s getting my messages,” she added, worried.
Rather than knowing anything for certain, she and Harry were updated on her father’s plans (whether or not he was going to attend her wedding) through the tabloids and gossip websites. He contacted the American entertainment website TMZ to plead his case, explaining he was trying to “recast” his image after being “ambushed” by photographers. But to spare his daughter and the royal family any further embarrassment, he would no longer attend the wedding.
While in public the palace maintained a stoic silent facade, behind closed doors there were recriminations and anger. Having cut himself off from aides and his daughter, Thomas was feeding the press a seemingly never-ending stream of nonsensical statements. Palace courtiers were waiting minute by minute for the next bombshell to drop.
“It was very, very tough,” an aide said about the palace’s response to the Thomas Markle situation. “It’s very easy to blame the palace, but, my God, I’ve not seen any situation quite like it — where you’ve got a woman marrying a prince, and the father of the beautiful young woman is 5,000 miles away and just not playing ball, and not only not playing ball, but he’s up to silly games.”
Thomas claimed a furious Harry called him and hissed, “If you had listened to me, this would never have happened.” But no such conversation occurred. In another dramatic turn of events, just the day after saying he was not attending the wedding, Thomas told reporters that he couldn’t imagine missing such a historic event.
A wounded Meghan directed Kensington Palace officials to release a statement she wrote herself about the incident, calling it “a deeply personal matter” and requesting her privacy as they sorted it out. While she in no way wanted her family drama to play out so publicly, she felt forced to take some sort of action.
Despite her father’s behaviour, she was nonetheless crushed by the thought of him not being there for the wedding. “As much as she was hurt and humiliated, she wanted him to be there and was willing to move on,” a close friend said. “Plus, she was worried about him: she honestly wasn’t sure if he was actually OK. His behaviour was bizarre.”
His bespoke suit and custom shoes were waiting at the Oliver Brown tailor in Chelsea, southwest London, and Harry had asked a military veteran to accompany Meghan’s father. “The treatment that Meghan’s mother, Doria, received when she arrived here is exactly what was planned for Thomas,” a senior aide added, noting that he would have been put up in a hotel and given a protection officer and assistant during his stay.
With only four days left before her wedding, though, Meghan received more devastating news from her father — again through a celebrity gossip website. Laying the blame firmly at the feet of the prying press, Thomas claimed the stress had caused him to have a heart attack. His doctors advised him that he needed surgery just two days before his daughter took her vows, to clear a blockage, repair damage and implant several stents. Short of some sort of miraculous recovery, he said, he would be in no shape to fly across the Atlantic and thus would not be attending the royal wedding.
Troubled, Meghan tried to text Thomas: “I’ve been reaching out to you all weekend but you’re not taking any of our calls or replying to any texts . . . Very concerned about your health and safety and have taken every measure to protect you but not sure what more we can do if you don’t respond . . . Do you need help? Can we send the security team down again? I’m very sorry to hear you’re in the hospital but need you to please get in touch . . . What hospital are you at?”
Ten minutes later she followed up with another. “Harry and I made a decision earlier today and are dispatching the same security guys you turned away this weekend to be a presence on the ground to make sure you’re safe . . . they will be there at your disposal as soon as you need them. Please call as soon as you can . . . all of this is incredibly concerning but your health is most important,” she wrote.
That evening Thomas sent a short response to say that he appreciated the offer of security but didn’t feel in any danger. Instead, he wrote, he would recover at a motel. Meghan asked for details but he didn’t reply.
Not a word about the subject had been spoken when Meghan brought Doria to meet the Queen and Prince Philip earlier in the day, but the situation still caused her to feel embarrassed about the public drama during their afternoon tea at Windsor Castle.
Meghan placed some of the blame on herself. Having spent the past year and a half in the glaring spotlight, she understood what the pressure from the media was like. “He’s vulnerable,” she told a friend. “He’s been baited. A lot of the tabloid journalists have been coaxing him and paying him. I don’t know if he really even had a chance.”
Harry also blamed the media for the whole situation. “The pressure he was put under for six months before he finally cracked and started to participate,” a senior courtier said of Meghan’s father, “that’s what Harry’s angry about.”
One individual close to the couple summed it up this way: “There is a sort of aggressive intrusiveness and a reckless, irresponsible almost hostility to the media’s actions that’s deeply harmful. I don’t think the paparazzi are the same. I think that has changed. But the sort of ruthless malevolence of some sections of the media, and it is malevolent, is genuinely bad. What they’ve done to her father, drawn him out from his private life and forced him out into the open, and then waving cheques at him, it’s just absolutely terrible. He wanted to live privately. He would have continued to live privately. He would have been at the wedding if the media had left him alone as they were asked to. And there’s no public interest argument to excuse intruding into the private life of Thomas Markle.”
“If it wasn’t for Harry, Doria and her friends, Meghan herself says that she wouldn’t have mentally got through it,” a friend said. The night before the wedding, she sent her father one last text. He did not reply.
Sitting in a bath later that night, FaceTiming with a friend, the bride-to-be said she had left her dad a final message, adding: “I can’t sit up all night just pressing send.”
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