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#robin buys a newspaper just to frame this
steddilly · 2 years
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Context: Eddie sees Steve hanging around with Nancy and thinks he’s cheating on him with his ex. What’s actually going on is Nancy broke up with Jonathan a while ago and she might have a not-very-subtle crush on Robin.
Steve never lets him live it down.
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anonymouslyel · 2 years
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i need eddie to visit steve's room frequently so he could just leave trinkets and things in steve's room to give it a more "personal" feel. i need him to have dates with steve where they'll buy/have souvenirs to it that steve can put on his table or tape on his mirror. maybe eddie could have some band magazines where steve's fave bands/singers feature and they'll rip the page for it to tape on steve's wall just like eddie's walls.
i need the party to see steve's room and go "hm. you know what your room needs, steve? our drawings" so they just randomly tape their drawings (or the character sheet they made for steve. you know, just in case) on his wall.
i need robin to have many sleepovers there (bc his parents arent even present. plus, you cannot tell me they arent full of anxiety after what happened in s3) so robin could have her own chair of clothes in steve's room.
i need nancy to gift steve books she thought steve might like. (or maybe steve collecting newspaper cuttings everytime nancy has a column on it)
i need jonathan to gift steve a collage of pictures taken by him, or by the kids, or by robin, or by eddie, or by nancy to give that car frame a companion.
i need argyle to randomly give steve woodworks he makes whenever he visits hawkins.
i need the kids' moms to give him little thank you notes whenever they remember to thank steve so he can have a tin can full of it on his desk that he needed to buy another can for it.
i need all of it because i can't help but feel how sad steve is? or how he doesnt really have a hobby? or how, maybe, his parents were so deadset into having a typical bedroom that steve can't be messy (in an endearing way. the way that you know the room is someone's room. like how one look at eddie's room, the characters will go 'yeah, this is definitely giving off eddie vibes')?
so i need the hawkins gang (+ our fave california bub) to just leave something to steve enough that he'll display it in his room or keep it in a shoebox for safekeeping.
bc look at this stark difference in their room. i cant look at it without being emotional. stop. so many emotions are being felt right now.
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midnight-fauna · 2 years
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cuttin' me open (then healin' me fine)
A/N: Originally posted on my Ao3 under "TheExtrovertOutcast"
Pairings: Nancy Wheeler/Robin Buckley
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 2053
Summary: Nancy patches up Robin after their fight with Vecna.
Ronancetober Day 1: Upside Down
It was over.
Fuck, it was finally over. 
Exhaustion hit Robin like a brick as her filthy body collapsed on Steve’s couch. Only an hour prior, she, a few teenagers, and a gaggle of kids had single-handedly stopped the apocalypse. Eleven had managed to kill Vecna’s Upside-Down form before he got to Max. The two girls were huddled up close on the floor, comforting one another. On Max’s other side was Lucas, a warm hand on her shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. He stayed silent while the two girls talked. Erica had already gone home, claiming she needed to tell the Sinclairs where their son was, but it was clear she just needed to be alone. The poor girl was way too young to be dealing with all this shit. All of them were.
On the other couch, Dustin and Eddie told Steve about their adventure of distracting the demobats. From what Robin had overheard, Eddie had tried to be a hero and act as bait for the hell-sent creatures. Fortunately, Vecna had been slain before they’d been given the chance to completely devour the lanky man. Steve was lecturing on Eddie, going on and on about how foolish the action had been; however, the gentle care he took in cleaning the other’s wounds spoke volumes louder. The interaction made Robin’s lips twitch upward in a small smile. 
Seeing her kids and her platonic soulmate safe eased something in Robin and she felt her heartbeat slow, sleep tugging at her wrist, begging her to succumb to it. Her eyes had only just begun to flutter to a close when she felt a weight beside her. She didn’t question it, assuming it was one of the kids come to find a proper napping spot, until a gentle hand found her arm.
She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was. The touch was cool, fingers delicate yet strong. Well-kept nails traced ever so slightly over her skin and it took all of Robin’s strength not to shudder. Her pulse spiked once more. 
“Robs,” Nancy’s voice was soft beside her. “Come on, we gotta get your wounds cleaned up.”
Too tired to care about how whiney her voice came out, Robin muttered, “We can… just do that tomorrow.” 
She didn’t have to look to know Nancy was frowning. “By tomorrow, a nasty infection might already find itself a wonderful home in your gashes.” 
Robin stirred slightly. As much as she’d love to get pampered by the Nancy Wheeler, the prospect terrified her at the same time. Ever since that night at Starcourt Mall, she’d been crushing hard on the girl. Seeing her with that gun, ferociously defending those she loved - fuck, not even her old admiration for Tammy Thompson could compare. 
Of course, just as the crush had started to fade, just as Robin wasn’t staring at her in the halls and buying every copy of the school newspaper religiously, the world had gone to shit again. It had brought her right back to Nancy and they’d actually grown close. 
Close was dangerous. Close meant heartbreak. 
Unfortunately for her, Nancy wasn’t taking “no” as an answer. 
With surprising strength for her short frame, Nancy yanked Robin to a seated position from where she’d begun to slump to the side. Robin let out a little shout, instantly turning the room’s attention to her. Face burning, especially so when Steve shot her a knowing look, she whispered, “Fine, fine, I’m coming.”
Nancy gave her a satisfied smile and, to Robin’s extreme panic, grabbed her hand, leading her up the stairs. They turned a corner, passing by Steve’s bedroom, and into the adjacent bathroom. Immediately, Nancy got to work, opening cupboards and rustling through them. “I know he has a first-aid kit somewhere in… aha!” Triumphantly, she emerged with a large white box with a grin. Robin’s heart physically fluttered. 
“I can patch myself up, Nance, really. It’s okay,” Robin said quickly, horrified at the possibility that sometime, after this, Nancy would find out what she was - how she felt about women. Wouldn’t Nancy be disgusted if she figured out she’d been so close to a lesbian? God, would she think Robin was trying to be predatory? 
Nancy raised an eyebrow. “You have cuts all over your back. How are you going to reach those?”
“I- well- I could-” Robin began to protest. 
“C’mon, it’s no big deal, really,” Nancy insisted and carefully grabbed Robin’s shoulders, pushing down on them so Robin ended up in a seating position on the edge of the porcelain bathtub. “I saw a pretty bad one on your leg, so I’ll start there.” 
Robin watched in awe as Nancy knelt down in front of Robin, making quick work of opening the kit and searching through it. She emerged with a handful of cotton balls, a bottle of clear liquid, and two rolls of gauze. Turning back to Robin, she worked her hands underneath the rough fabric of Robin’s blood-stained camo pants. Her chilled fingertips felt heavenly against Robin’s burning skin and she internally groaned at the realization she’d already become addicted to Nancy’s touch. 
“This is going to sting a little, okay?” Nancy warned once both pants had been rolled up to Robin’s mid-thighs. Various bruises and small cuts littered her freckled skin, undershadowed in importance against the long gash on her left calf. It was the source of all the blood on the tarnished fabric, not gushing any longer but still trickling down to her once-white socks. 
Lost in her thoughts, Robin was caught off-guard when a cold wetness dabbed at her cut. The antiseptic stung like hell and she couldn’t help the pained whimper that left her. Any prior attempt to seem “cool” to Nancy was completely lost by whatever the fuck that sound was. 
She tensed, waiting for Nancy to laugh at her or make some snarky remark. No such thing came. Instead, Nancy looked up at her with sympathetic doe eyes. “Sorry, maybe ‘a little’ was an understatement.”
“Of the century.” Robin allowed herself the sarcastic comment, surprised when Nancy laughed softly and lifted her free hand to her. 
“Here,” Nancy said. “Take my hand and squeeze it whenever it hurts too bad, alright? I got you, it’s okay.”
That last sentence had Robin’s head practically spinning. No one had ever “got” her before. Her dad was always out of the picture and her mom’s only form of affection was insulting Robin’s intelligence. Steve was her practically her platonic soulmate, but even he had never said something like that. 
Hoping Nancy wouldn’t notice how clammy her palms were, Robin reached down and took it. The cotton pad returned to her wound, the stroke soft despite the near-agony the action caused. Instinctively, Robin bit her lip and tightened her grip on Nancy. She expected her to yank her hand back, deciding her offer was no longer worth it. Yet, she only felt the soothing caress of the pad of Nancy’s thumb on the back of her hand. 
She would’ve fought Vecna all over again if it meant she could feel that forever. 
“You’re doing so good, Robs. You’re sitting so well for me,” Nancy praised and Robin could only pray that her jackrabbit pulse couldn’t be felt by the other girl. Though Robin had never been in a relationship, she’d always assumed she’d be the “dominant” one or whatever. After all, she was taller than most girls she knew and she had always associated the two traits. But hearing Nancy praise her like that? God, Robin was a pitiful puddle, threatening to slip behind her and sink down the drain. 
Eventually, the torment of the antiseptic ended and Nancy tossed the bloodied cotton into the garbage bin. She ruffled through the box and, extracting some medical tape, she set both that and the gauze in her lap. Robin watched in less-than-straight fascination as Nancy firmly pressed the gauze down on the wound. One hand kept it steady while the other brought the tape to her lips, grabbing the edge of it with her teeth and pulling. It was almost primal and Jesus, Robin did not have the time to unpack what that did to her. 
Soon, the tape was wrapped skillfully around Robin’s calf, holding the gauze in place. “There we go,” Nancy murmured, more to herself than anything. Her eyes lifted to meet Robin’s and, to the Robin’s confusion, she furrowed her eyebrows. 
“What? Do I have Hell dirt on my face?” Robin joked, desperately trying to ease the tension because she simply couldn’t cope with Nancy staring at her so intensely. 
Without a word, Nancy rose on her knees, thighs lifting off her calves and reached up to touch Robin’s bottom lip.
What. What. What. What. What. What. What. 
Robin’s mind was a blur of racing thoughts, all unintelligible to herself as her brain had become much more interested in the sensation on her skin. 
“Your lip is bleeding,” Nancy said quiety, thumbing over the torn skin. “That gash must’ve hurt like a motherfucker for you to bite it so hard.”
“Uh… yeah… yeah,” Robin stumbled out, knowing damn well her teeth had been teasing at her lip out of anxiety rather than physical pain. “It’s fine, though, really. Like, what’s a little lip wound to all the shit we’ve been through? Honestly, out of all of you, I probably ended up with the least amount of winds, so I really should consider myself lucky. Oh shit, speaking of, we need to go get checked for rabies after this. Do you think Eddie has his rabies vaccination? I’m not saying that because he’s poor because like, I know poor, but-”
“Robin.”
“- sometimes I wonder how his hygiene is? Respectfully, of course. He’s a great guy and I hope to become better friends with him just like I want to become better friends with you. I just didn’t really have anyone before Steve and even with him, sometimes it gets a little-”
“Robin.”
“- hard because like, you can only stand to be around Steve for so long, y’know? I mean, of course you know. You dated him and stuff. I hope that’s still not awkward between us, because I swear we really are platonic with a capital-”
Robin hadn’t even registered what Nancy was doing until she shot up, lips fitting against hers. All the exciting rambles streaming from her mind stopped, left with only Nancy. 
After a brief moment of their lips simply touching, not moving against one another, Nancy moved away. Robin’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of her own blood painted on Nancy’s perfect mouth. 
“Wow, uh, I’ve… never been shut up like that before,” Robin broke the silence awkwardly, damning herself internally. 
Nancy smiled a little. “I love it when you talk like there’s no tomorrow, Robs, but I honestly just really needed to do that.”
“Needed… to…?” Robin squeaked out. 
A laugh left Nancy and she rested back, kneeling once more. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met and you still don’t get this, do you?”
Robin stayed quiet. 
“I like you, Robin. I didn’t understand it, at first, but when you ran ahead in the Upside Down today, Steve and I had a talk. He… told me you told him about ‘bisexuality’ - that it’s possible to like both girls and boys. It made everything click for me. It made me realize I once loved Jonathan and now I love you.”
Oh.
“Me?” was all Robin could muster.
“Yeah,” Nancy said, amusement glinting in her big eyes. “I guess I sort of have a thing for awkward tall people that are just a little bit weird.” 
Robin’s brain stopped short-circuiting for a brief moment, allowing her to joke, “Weird? Me? I don’t know what you could possibly be insinuating, Wheeler.” 
“There’s my Robin,” Nancy said, beaming.
My Robin.
“I’m your Robin,” Robin repeated, saying it like an oath, a promise. “I’m… really regretting biting my lip now because god, I really want you to kiss me again.” 
Nancy leaned forward, bending Robin down by the collar of her shirt. “Lucky for you, Buckley,” she murmured, a teasing glint in her eye, “years of fighting monsters made blood not a problem for me.” 
Robin exhaled shakily.
“Prove it then, Nance.” 
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masslong · 2 years
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Banksy picture shred video
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The "Girl With Balloon" canvas had an estimate of 200,000 to 300,000 when it went up for sale at Sotheby's in London. According to Sotheby's, it is "the first artwork in history to have been created live during an auction." Moderner Robin Hood: Schau ber Street-Art-Knstler Banksy. Banksys iconic Love is in the Bin (2018)the version of his beloved Girl with Balloon image that was partially shredded the moment the hammer came down at a Sothebys sale three years agosold at todays marquee evening auction of contemporary art in the very same London salesroom after a 10-minute, nine-way bidding war. The artwork named Love Is In The Bin was sold in London by auction house Sothebys at a Nine Banksy's "Love is in the Bin" is unveiled on October 12, 2018, at Sotheby's in London. Both Sothebys and the artist Banksy himself have denied any collusion in the daring stunt, which has seen the painting, originally titled Girl with Balloon receiving the Auctioneer Sotheby's said Friday that 'Love is in the Bin' will be offered at a sale in London on Oct. Banksy, Girl With Balloon, 2006, Sothebys. It was even voted the UKs favorite artwork in 2017. Love is in the Bin is a 2018 art intervention by Banksy at Sotheby's London, with an unexpected self-destruction of his 2006 painting of Girl with Balloon immediately after it was sold at auction for a record 1,042,000. It soon caused a huge sensation in the art world and aroused many suspicions whether Sotheby's Art Banksy. The hammer went down at 16m, but after the auction house's fee the price was 18,582,000. A rare print of Girl with Balloon with a gold balloon will also be up for auction. Christies auction is titled I cant believe you morons actually buy this shit. El 5 de octubre de 2018, una copia enmarcada hecha en el ao 2006 fue subastada y vendida en Sotheby's por 1,042,000, un rcord para el artista. Moderner Robin Hood: Schau ber Street-Art-Knstler Banksy. Going forward, are we going to question a frame like this? Absolutely.Browse artwork and art for sale by Banksy and discover content, biographical information and recently sold works. “The accusation that we were somehow negligent in the way this was catalogued does not stand up. We also had a third-party conservator look at the work,” he said. “Pest Control said very clearly: The frame is integral to the art work, which it was, just not in the sort of way that we thought. The director of Sotheby’s contemporary art in Europe, Alex Branczik, said much the same in an interview with The Art Newspaper. Some people think the auction house were in on it, they weren’t.” In a post on Instagram linking to the video, Banksy put to rest several rumors surrounding his stunt, saying, “Some people think it didn’t really shred. Recommended: Get a Rare Glimpse of the Royal Family’s Private Rooms at Buckingham Palace Pest Control, Banksy’s official authentication body, issued a new authentication certificate and gave the work a new name, Love Is in the Bin. The client who bought the painting for $1.4 million has announced that she intends to keep the work. Then an alarm goes off and the piece begins to shred, but a jam in the machine prevents the work from being turned entirely into shreds. He then plays a long clip of the auction of the painting in full, cutting to a close-up of someone pushing a switch on a remote just after the sale was finalized. At one point a man who appears to work at Sotheby’s is seen standing in front of the work, telling an onlooker that the artist himself had put the frame on. The video, which Banksy aptly titled Shred the Love, also shows a man in a hoodie installing a shredder into the frame and clips of the painting at various points on the evening of the sale. In a nearly three-minute video posted to the site yesterday, the mischievous street artist shows what’s implied to be a practice run of the shredding in which the painting, or a copy, is completely destroyed, with a caption prefacing the clip that says, “In rehearsals it worked every time.” Just as the buzz around his now-infamous stunt at Sotheby’s on October 5 was beginning to die down, Banksy has taken to YouTube to suggest that he had intended for Girl with Balloon to be shredded completely.
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meant-to-be-a-hero · 2 years
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Season Four, Chapter Eight: Papa
You'd think the penultimate ep would be the calm before the storm, which for most of the plot threads it is, but El's big blow-out battle with the military is pretty season finale-sized.
I forgot that the Rainbow Room gate closed again, that was what confused me about the Season 1/Season 4 timeline when I was rewatching it before.
How dare you insult Eddie's music collection!
Vecna's got that slow villain walk going on, he's not in any rush.
I know it's just me being gay AF, but Nancy's laying there suffering, and all I can see are Steve's arms.
That's two false funerals Joyce has been to.
El misses her dad :(
I can't believe the Jungle Fury Rhino Ranger expected his guards to NOT shoot the Demogorgon, seriously.
Grow Your Own Demogorgon, just add water. 1986's hottest Christmas toy.
Maybe El could have practised her powers on something less expensive than the Nina tank?
Will's fucking speech, man. Every fucking time. This show has managed to make me cry again at every single point I cried the first time around. I know the last episode's going to break me.
Vecna's plan has been in front of us, right from the beginning. It's all very clever.
Ah, the Yellow Pages. Sometimes you can almost forget the 80s setting, and then you get something like that to remind you.
The whole RV heist is just perfect. It's just left enough of farce to be hilarious without being stupid.
"Big boy." Eyebrow waggle.
Brenner likes his dramatic staircase entrances, doesn't he?
Huh, Nina's two hours away from Nellis Air Force Base, which is where Area 51 is.
Real talk, Owens is probably the best non-parental adult figure I've seen in media for a while. He's reasonable, he listens, he does his best, and he's not just telling people what they want to hear so he gets what he wants. He genuinely cares about El.
Steve/Nancy is the only alternative I'll accept since Steve/Eddie isn't going to be an option.
"That's presumptuous of you." is a callback to the first time Lucas and Dustin spoke to Max in Season 2, which I didn't realise when I watched this the first time.
Lucas saying he'll "call in Kate Bush" kind of makes me want to see Kate Bush descend into the Upside Down and kick the shit out of Vecna, ngl.
Ah, The War Zone. Only in America.
I love that they brought Erica inside, because of course they did.
I can't believe they just sell this shit to minors without even blinking.
If that shotgun Nancy's buying is $121, how the hell are they paying for all this? She doesn't get paid by the school newspaper, and I doubt Robin and Steve have that much cash laying around from Blockbusters.
Shut UP Argyle lmao, this dude.
Fucking Brenner. He always has to be right, even when he's wrong.
It's kind of nice that El and Brenner get to hash all this out, now that she's able to communicate properly. It feels more even, as opposed to what we've had before, him talking down to her. It's been a long time coming. I did expect a "My name is Jane!" at some point though.
Lucas and Erica's banter is so authentic, I could see me and my sister having conversations like them.
Robin's basically a precog at this point, predicting that this isn't going to end well (Vecna wins) and they're not all going to make it out alive (Eddie :( )
Because the only thing this season was missing was a military civil war.
I do hope that's not the last we see of Owens, his fate's kind of left up in the air. I'm sure if Sullivan was going to kill him, we'd see it on camera.
Bye bye Papa. At least he does one good thing before he dies.
Jonathan and friends' arrival is very well timed, lmao.
Mike and El reuniting with Will framed in the background is just a MEAN shot, isn't it? There's no reason for that other than to hurt me.
El not giving Brenner what he wants right at the end is pretty poetic, actually.
He's definitely dead this time, right? Although I wouldn't rule out one last Season 5 appearance as like a memory or something Vecna taunts El with.
One left. Kate Bush was wrong - it does hurt me.
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bigender-titan · 3 years
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i tripped and ended up falling for you
Summary:
"Let me finish. I tripped over a box." Raine chuckled. "And then I heard my mom shouting my name, and I panicked, so I opened the box and went in. And then... I wasn't on the Boiling Isles anymore."
"And let me guess. We're going there."
"Of course! You know me so well, Rainstorm."
Content warnings: Food, cursing
Word count: 1780
(read on ao3)
"Eda," Raine complained, a note of teasing in their voice. "This is the third time you've walked me into a tree. Are you sure I have to close my eyes?"
"Yes! Otherwise it doesn't work as a surprise! We're almost there, though, so hopefully your pretty face won't have to be threatened by any more trees." Also, if Raine's eyes were closed, they couldn't see how much Eda was blushing after xe called them pretty. Also, how much xe blushed every time xe remembered they were holding hands.
"Are you normally this- ow- clumsy?"
Yeah, I tripped and ended up falling for you. "Give me a break, I didn't have any apple blood today." Eda swatted a branch out of the way before it could hit Raine, and waved xyr arms enthusiastically. "We're here! You can look!"
"Where is here?" Raine asked, opening xyr eyes. "The middle of the woods?"
"Here's where I found the portal!"
"You found a-"
"It all started when my mom was being- well, you know my mom, she suggested some weird curse treatment as usual, and I did not want to deal with that shit. So I did what any reasonable witch would!"
"Communicate your feelings in a healthy way?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I escaped through the window and ran!"
"That's... not really that surprising."
"And while I was running, I tripped-"
"Also not surprising." Raine had the cutest smile, even when they were teasing xem. It almost made Eda want to do more stupid things, to see their smile again. Though xe was pretty sure xe would do a lot of stupid things accidentally.
"Let me finish. I tripped over a box." Raine chuckled. "And then I heard my mom shouting my name, and I panicked, so I opened the box and went in. And then... I wasn't on the Boiling Isles anymore."
"And let me guess. We're going there."
"Of course! You know me so well, Rainstorm." Xe took the portal out of xyr bag and opened it up. After putting one foot through, xe extended a hand to Raine. "You coming?"
Raine paused. "Is it... safe?"
"Well..." Eda thought about the times xe'd been in the human realm. "No one's tried to eat me, and they have weather that doesn't try to kill you, so we should be good. Close your eyes again- that'll make it more fun!"
Although they still looked slightly unconvinced, they closed their eyes and took Eda's hand in theirs. Xe grinned and tugged lightly until Raine followed xem into the portal.
"You can open your eyes again!" Eda declared when the pair reappeared. Raine obliged and looked around.
"Um, cool. An old house. There's a newspaper hung up about how... 'an annoying redhead teenager robbed a bakery.'" They gave xem a disapproving look as Eda grinned and gave a double thumbs up. "Did it at least taste good?"
"Delicious. I'll take you. We can steal some more."
"I don't condone this."
"Fine. I'll steal more and share with you, you goody two shoes."
"How about... paying?"
"They don't take snails. I tried." Well, xe'd only tried paying in snails after the owner had caught xem stealing, but Raine didn't need to know that. "Come on, stealing is fun! Be gay do crime!"
"Okay, Eda. And where exactly is this bakery? Also, where are we?"
"The human realm!" Eda exclaimed, letting out the secret that had been bouncing around inside of xem since xe'd come here the first time. Xe'd wanted to share it with someone desperately, and who better than Raine?
Raine's dark brown eyes lit up. "The human realm? Okay, that's cool."
"And they have really good- their pastries don't try to eat you!"
"Now this I have to see."
Eda laughed and threw xyr arm around Raine's shoulders, leading them out of the old house and into the little human town. As they passed things that must have been ordinary for humans- a dog that barked instead of speaking, automobiles speeding past, people walking by with their rounded ears- the pair whispered to each other and pointed it out, fascinated. Eda had been here before and it still excited xem; this was all new to Raine, and they were flapping their hands up and down in surprise and excitement.
Soon, they reached Robin's Roast Cafe. "Ready to help me rob the place?" Eda asked.
Raine sighed.
"Come on... think of pastries that are eaten willingly instead of trying to kill you... oh come on, Raine, you won't even have to do the stealing! Just distract the owner while I do it."
For a while, Raine was silent. Then: "Fine, I'll do it. Only for you, Eda Clawthorne."
"Thanks, Rainstorm! Love you!" It slipped out of Eda's mouth without xem knowing; xe blushed when xe realized what xe just said.
The pair stared at one another for an awkward beat, then Raine looked away and cleared their throat. "Ready to steal?"
"Always," Eda said, cracking xyr knuckles. Xe opened the door and held it open for Raine. No one else was inside, probably because all the humans were either at work or school. It was the middle of the day, after all, and Eda and Raine only had off because it was a holiday on the Boiling Isles.
"How can I help you?" someone asked. Eda didn't get a very good look at them, because xyr gaze was focused on the cupcakes on the counter. But then xe realized Raine wouldn't want to do the talking, so xe looked up.
Behind the counter was a brown skinned teenager, with dark hair tied in a bun and red-framed glasses. She was kind of pretty, Eda supposed, but nothing like Raine.
Eda! Owl Bitch! Stop being gay and focus on stealing cupcakes.
"Yeah, my partn- friend and I were thinking of getting cupcakes, but Raine has a lot of allergies, I can never keep track, so they'll need to know the ingredients."
The girl nodded. "We have an ingredient list in the back room. Do you mind waiting a bit while I go grab it?"
"Not at all," Raine said, likely knowing that Eda would probably give xemself away by being a little too enthusiastic about being left alone. The girl nodded again and left.
As soon as the door behind her swung closed, Eda snapped xyr fingers and two cupcake vanished from behind the glass and reappeared, one in each hand. Raine grabbed xem two napkins to wrap each one in. "I'll meet you outside," xe said softly, bumping shoulders with them. "Tell the girl you forgot your wallet and can't pay so it doesn't look suspicious that we came inside without buying anything."
"I should probably be concerned by how good you are at this thief thing, but it's fun," Raine replied, grinning. "See you soon."
Raine might have thought Eda was a good thief, but they were the one who stole xyr heart. Xe only hoped xe'd managed to steal theirs in return.
Shaking the thought away- no use pining over xyr best friend more than xe had already today- xe grabbed a table and set the cupcakes down. Soon, the door swung open and Raine joined xem at the table.
"That was terrifying," Raine sighed, grabbing their cupcake from Eda.
"And fun?"
"Yeah. And fun." They smiled and licked some of the chocolate icing off their cupcake. "Oh- oh wow. This is really good. You're sure it won't eat me?"
"Pretty sure, yeah," said Eda, taking a huge bite out of xyr cupcake.
"You aren't going to savor yours?"
"Nah," xe replied, slightly unintelligible due to xyr mouth being full.
Unsurprisingly, Eda's cupcake disappeared significantly before Raine's, but it was almost as enjoyable to watch Rainstorm eat theirs and smile. Damn, xe was really failing at this don't pine over them thing.
Finally, Raine finished their cupcake and looked up at Eda. "That was delicious. Thanks for stealing it."
"Any time, Rainstorm." Eda paused a little, studying Raine's lips. Which was a completely normal thing to do, of course. "You got a little icing..." xe trailed off. Suddenly feeling bold, xe swiped a finger along the corner of Raine's mouth.
Instantly, xe regretted it. "Sorry- sorry. I'll just crawl in a hole and-"
"I don't mind."
"Okay," Eda said, and quickly changed the subject. "You want to head back to the Boiling Isles?"
"Not- not yet, I don't think. I... really like it here. It's- I like it."
"I'm glad you do. I was really hoping you'd enjoy coming here. I'm not really the best at gestures, remember that time I got you snake oil for your birthday? But I really wanted to do something special for you, because, well, you're really special to me."
Raine was silent for a long time. Eda went back to wishing xe could crawl into a hole. "You're really special to me too," they said finally, softly.
Eda smiled and blushed. Did Raine mean it platonically? Romantically? Who knew. This was all so confusing. But it made xem a little braver.
"Raine, I don't want to sound all cheesy, because ick, but you're sweet and caring and funny and a million other things that make me want to be with you all the time, and like you said, I'd be a mess without you. I mean, I'm already a mess, but... I want to be with you anyway. Shit, now I'm rambling. Okay. Um. How do I say this... You're smoking hot and I have a teeny tiny ridiculously overwhelming crush on you!"
Raine blinked once. Twice. Eda looked around for escape routes and/or holes.
"That's- I- I think you're really date and I want to go on a great, I mean. Ack. Words. I think you're really great and I want to go on a date."
All the panic evaporated off of Eda and a wide smile spread across xyr face. "Fuck yeah! I'd love to date you! Hear that, everyone!" xe yelled loudly, drawing the attention of the one and only pedestrian on the other side of the street. "I'm dating Raine Whispers! Whooo!"
Raine laughed and kissed xem on the cheek. Eda's mouth formed a perfect O.
"-da. Eda. Eda. Earth to Eda?"
"Sorry. You kissed me and I think it broke my mind. I'm definitely still a mess."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Holding hands (holding hands!!!) they walked back to the old house and back through the portal, back to the Boiling Isles. Back to Eda's old life. Except now, it was a million times better, because xe was dating Raine Whispers.
Hear that, everyone? Xe's dating Raine Whispers! Whooo!
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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years
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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.16}
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*Severus Snape x OC*
Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.
General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing
Words: 5.3k
Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!
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"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?"
"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore."
"Why does your hair smell so insufferably much like pineapple? You don't even like pineapples."
For a broken second, Robin was so surprised by the indeed quite unexpected question that she didn't react at all, then however she had to snort and finally just started laughing. Gods, what a question… whether he had meant to take the edge off the situation or not, his inquiry certainly had done just that. In a sudden mutual agreement that it might be better to let go of each other –better for whom, one might ask– they both removed their tight hold from the other and Robin took a tiny step backwards. Not enough to call it an appropriate distance, really, but enough to look at each other's faces again.
"I, uh…" She started, once she had more or less stopped laughing, and finally folded the letter and the permit back into the envelope. "I haven't really had the money to buy new shampoo after I'd run out, so I first borrowed from Jorien for half a month, and now ever since the beginning of October I've been borrowing from Cas, who unfortunately loves pineapples. That's why I smell like one currently."
"I see… Curious how I haven't noticed it before."
"Well, we don't really… get that close to each other so often." Robin shrugged, trying to suppress the sad subtones that wanted to sneak into the statement, and instead acted over it by removing her wand from the tousled damp mess on her head, now that she remembered that her hair still would have to dry at some point indeed. "And I literally just took a shower before coming here, so that should make the smell even more prominent as well. Sorry…"
"Not for that. But say, do I even want to know why you decided to take a shower in the middle of the night? On your birthday?"
"Cas smeared some sticky goo onto my face and it was really itchy and got stuck in my hair…" She rolled her eyes at the memory, and upon his questioning and slightly horrified expression, she snorted but went to explain. "It was just some kind of face mask, nothing gross! Well, actually, it was pretty vile, all pink and smelling horribly sweet, even worse than the pineapple!"
"Sounds like your evening with your roommates went exactly as expected."
"Well, part of it at least. At first we had tea and cake, which I very much enjoyed actually. They told me about the incident in class as well, even though they thought it was hilarious rather than annoying. But then I became subject to their idea of a girls' night, and that meant sticky goo and painted nails." Robin held up her hands with a humoured sigh to demonstrate Jorien's work. It actually looked quite good, or at least it had, before Robin had already chipped one nail in the shower. She couldn't bring herself to care enough to fix it though. "Then they tried to get me to talk about boys, which was the point where I shut down."
"I can imagine."
"They got me a lovely gift though; a framed photograph of the entire group. The girls and I, and Simon, Gideon and Michael. All sitting together in the great hall." Robin smiled, still very much happy about the picture. "There's so few photos of me and the people I care about. Honestly, I only have the conference photos from last year and the year prior, and either has about fifty strangers in it, but only one has you."
"Good. I doubt that I'm particularly photogenic."
"Neither am I, but I like looking at the picture nonetheless."
"You always were the most photogenic person in the entire newspaper. All three years of conferences."
"Thanks." Robin laughed, once again quite glad that it was too dark for him to really see her blushing. "Remind me to show you the horrible pictures of me as a toddler some time… You'll change your mind about me being photogenic then."
"Don't bet on it."
"Alright, I won't." Her smile turned warmer, less amused and more heartfelt. "But I'm still happy to have one more picture of the people I care about now."
"You should be. It is a nice gift indeed. An actual gift."
"Oh will you stop it now!" Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then couldn't help smiling up at him nonetheless. "I think your gift IS an actual gift! A perfect one! But if you just keep refusing to believe it, might I make a suggestion?"
"Don't you always?" He raised an eyebrow as he quoted her own words back to her with a not-smirk. "Go ahead."
"Go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday. I know you're not overly fond of being there while the students are roaming around, but you could consider it a gift to me, if the incredible one you've already given me just won't count for you. Which I still don't understand, by the way." She suggested, then went on with a small smirk. "I'm sure I can sell some stuff to the guy in that ingredients shop you sent me to forever ago."
"I will have to see it to believe it. Saturday it is." He replied and the corners of his lips quirked up more and more. "The man you're speaking of is a sleazy individual, ripping people off wherever he can, and getting him to pay a decent price will be practically impossible. But I will enjoy seeing you try."
"I can get him to pay any price you name." Robin teased with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what prices to set anyway, nor what the different objects are worth in theory. Just give me a number I can tell him, and you'll see me getting him to pay it."
"I sincerely doubt that."
"Wanna bet?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking openly with just a tad of mischief in her tone. There was no way she would lose this, she was certain of that. "If you deem me so unconvincing, you should have nothing to lose."
"If you insist. What stakes shall we set?"
"Loser buys the winner a drink afterwards, how about that? We should both be able to afford that much at that point."
"Agreed. It should make for an interesting Saturday either way." Snape seemed to be entirely amused by the idea at this point, and Robin wondered if he was actually serious about doubting her in the first place. He did know better than to question her abilities, especially those she actually believed in herself, and somehow she had the feeling that agreeing to this bet was his way of encouraging her to do her best on Saturday. But he might also just be wanting to buy her a drink. The thought made Robin grin even more, and she decided that she was fine with either version.
"I hope I'll make it to Saturday in the first place…" She said then, remembering that it was only Friday now, roughly around two in the morning. "The girls have made some plans for my birthday, but after this evening, I'm not sure if I will survive any more of their ideas."
"To your luck, they will be busy with classes for most of the day, much like myself unfortunately. Are you going to be assisting Pomona with the second years again?"
"Yeah, it's the only thing I have to do. It's fun, actually, when the students aren't being idiots. Gonna be an easy day."
"Perhaps you should go to bed now nonetheless. As much as I would like to sit down now and keep you here until morning, you certainly would be better off with some sleep before your roommates drag you into whatever schemes they have set up for the morning."
"Yeah… I should go." Robin sighed, and this time she didn't even bother trying to hide her sadness about the fact. "Don't forget about the salt thing though, yes? And please tell McGonagall; even if just for the sake of helping me keep my promise."
"I will." He replied as he followed Robin to the door, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. "If your roommates haven't already claimed every single minute of your day by then, perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon."
"I would like that very much." Robin smiled up at him too happily, in too much excitement, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He already knew that she loved spending time with him; he just didn't know all of the reasons. "But for now, goodnight."
"Get out of my sight already."
"As you wish." She grinned at his feigned annoyance and not-smirk, then made her way down the hallway and back towards her room, clutching her wand in one hand and the letter in the other. Surprisingly enough, this had been a great start to her birthday after all.
When she lay in bed a little while later, she could still feel the shadow of his touch along her spine, the brush of his fingertips on her sides, and it took her a while to fall asleep like that, when part of her mind wouldn't shut up and instead kept on wondering what it would've felt like without all the fabric in between his skin and her own.
… … …
Morning, as always, came way too soon, and Robin was woken up by two overly excited girls who then proceeded to dictate her every move. Luckily she could talk them out of painting her face this year, but they still put up her hair into an intricate braid before they finally made their way to breakfast while playing some kind of game Robin never quite understood the rules to in the first place. When they arrived in the great hall, they still were terribly early for once, as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the boys, who each proceeded to congratulate Robin as well, and she in return thanked them all, especially Simon for the idea with the picture.
Once the hall had filled up with students and staff alike –Robin took careful notice of the fact that McGonagall was once again sitting next to Snape, chatting away amicably while the latter looked indifferent as always– the beginning of the meal was announced, and the foods and drinks were sent up from the kitchens. The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived, and when Robin looked around, she saw more excited faces than she dared to count. Obviously the news about the prank had made their rounds among the student body, and spread even beyond the Ravenclaw table. In the careful attempt not to be entirely obvious about it, Robin then observed Snape and McGonagall. Both of them went with coffee this morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, they both focused on their mugs a little too long before moving to drink at last. Neither of them pulled a face, nor did McGonagall falter in her one sided chat with the bored man next to her, which relieved Robin quite a bit. Once she looked over at Jorien, the girl mouthed a quiet 'thank you', to which Robin answered with a single subtle nod. Then both their attention was drawn back to the head table, when a happy coincidence decided that it should be Morgan who first made a show of spitting out his salted coffee in an indignant spout. A wave of giggles ran through the student body, and while more professors followed Morgan's example mere seconds later, the giggles turned into straight out laughter. McGonagall made an attempt to hide the fact that she had known in advance, going neatly along with the other professors' surprise and outrage, while Snape however merely let his eyes travel over the students in a menacing glare. When his eyes caught Robin's, however, his face brightened up ever so slightly with a not-smirk for a moment, then he continued his cold inspection of the tables and Robin turned back to her breakfast. Perhaps seeing Morgan spitting out his coffee had made her morning a little better after all, and knowing that Snape had succeeded to get McGonagall, out of all people, to play along with this scheme definitely made her both happy and proud.
The day then continued on quite as good as it had started. During the herbology class she helped with, Sprout not only congratulated her right away, but also gifted her a beautiful scalpel-like knife that was small in size, but sharper than Robin thought possible. The gesture honestly surprised her, but the herbology professor insisted that she couldn't continue watching Robin use that old rusty thing she had been using for both her in- and out-of-class work for the last two years. A little overwhelmed but very much grateful, Robin finally accepted the highly useful gift, and stored it in her pocket for now, just before first students filed into the greenhouse.
The next surprise came during lunch, when Robin found yet another wrapped gift waiting for her in her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her small group of appreciated people was already awaiting her arrival. Upon Robin's inquiry about the package, they all shrugged and said it had just suddenly been there some time after they'd sat down. Her name was written on a piece of paper that was tugged into the wrapping, but she didn't quite recognise the handwriting. Odd… why were so many people giving her gifts for her birthday, all of a sudden? She appreciated it, of course, but it made her wonder nonetheless. Then, encouraged by her overly curious friends, Robin finally unwrapped the gift, only to reveal a small and desperately old looking book. 'The Unforgivable Curses: A detailed study'... The title alone made the hairs in Robin's neck stand up, while the small group of people around here was simply confused. Of course they understood the title, but they were just as clueless about who would give such a book to Robin as she herself was. There was no note, no letter, nothing but the slip of paper with her name on it, which she tugged in between the pages after briefly flipping through them in search for any more pleasant or unpleasant surprises. But it was just a book, a quite rare one if Robin wasn't entirely mistaken, and certainly not of the kind you would find in a school library. If anyone saw her with this, especially one of the professors, they might just think she was up to no good; thus Robin stored it away in her backpack, making sure to inspect it more thoroughly later today. Preferably together with Snape, he knew way more about these things than anyone else, and he appreciated a good mystery quite as much as she did.
After lunch, when Robin was just about to head to her room to pass the time and perhaps change into something warmer before Snape would be done with his classes for the day, she found herself stopped in her path, surprised yet again by something she hadn't quite expected. This time it was McGonagall who, after a quick glance down the hallway, first congratulated Robin, and then also thanked her for the indirect warning this morning. What surprised Robin however was when the professor took her hand, placed a small and surprisingly cold object in it, and then closed her fingers around it even before Robin could see what it was.
"You did not receive this from me, do you understand?" She asked with an intent look at Robin, who in return merely had the time to nod before the professor turned on her heels and was off down the hallway a second later.
Confused, Robin opened her hand again and her eyes fell onto a key that was now resting in her palm, heavy and cold and no less ancient than the book she had already received an hour earlier. What on earth was going on here that she was missing? What was this key for, in a school that –as far as Robin knew– locked all doors with magic anyway? And why was McGonagall so keen on keeping it a secret? Robin couldn't answer either question, but she hid the key in her locket anyway, to keep it safe until she knew what she was to do with it. Then she finally made for her room, with the intention to get some long overdue rest at last.
… … …
Shortly before four in the afternoon, Robin quietly let herself into Snape's office during the last minutes of the class he was teaching next door. She had indeed changed into something warm enough to be comfortable outside (for once!), and then thought it a nice idea to pick him up here to go for her promised walk. That at least would give them a good two hours before dinner, and thus enough time to actually get away from the castle for a little while. Content with her plan, Robin took her perch on the edge of the desk, not bothering to sit down properly for the little time she planned to stay here. It wasn't long indeed before the door between office and classroom flew open, and a very much annoyed Snape stormed into the room, throwing the door shut behind himself again without looking back. Still it took a few seconds for his eyes to find Robin's, but then he stopped in his track while the tension remained written all over his features.
"Don't." Was all he said in a deep and warning tone, and Robin knew very well what he meant, but she just couldn't help it. She had to smile, brightly and without any attempt to hide it, and he rolled his eyes in return, the tension fleeting, while he tried not to smile in return. "You are insufferable. Just let me be angry in peace."
"I'd rather not. Because I can't be happy when you're upset, so logically I will have to see to it that you're happy. For my own sake." She shrugged easily, and her eyes followed him as he moved to drop a stack of notebooks next to her on the desk. "And I'm here to claim what's been promised to me. Before you can find a way to get out of it."
"Whyever would I want to? Wasn't it I who asked for a moment of your precious time in the first place?" He raised his eyebrows at her for a second, then grabbed his warmer robes from the back of his chair. "I would hardly want to miss the narrow time frame I was given to spend with you."
"Oh come on, I'm not that busy! You're the one who had to teach all day… I've just been in my room ever since lunch."
"Napping, as it seems." He quipped, finally unable to keep the not-smirk off his face, and Robin felt called out immediately.
"How the hell do you know that again?"
"Your hair tells me all about it. Admittedly, the difference from lunch to now is very subtle, especially with the braid, but I know what you look like when you wake up. I've seen it before."
The blush that rose to Robin's face immediately was accompanied by a wave of tingles that were equally a result of his words and her own imagination. Yes, they had woken up in the same room before. But not together, in the way she would've liked. Not the time to think about that now.
"Well, you caught me." Robin finally replied, forcing away the previous string of thoughts. "I was napping because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm fine with little sleep, generally, but less than two hours isn't enough even for me. With the two herbology classes of the first and second years this morning, on top of two meals with the girls, I honestly just needed some rest."
"What kept you from getting a good night's sleep in the first place?" He asked in return, as they left the office and started making their way outside, unseen as always, through the many rooms and passages Robin found herself actually able to remember at this point. She had no idea how Snape even knew about all these shortcuts and secret paths in the castle, but she was glad to have learned about them too. Wandering around unseen was a lot easier like this.
"Oh, you know… just too many thoughts spinning in my mind." She shrugged, careful not to let slip that it had been thoughts about him that had kept her awake. Thoughts about them, together.
"I understand. Your visit also left me thinking for quite a while." He said, as they arrived at the foot of the hill, under the open grey sky at last. "I have come to the conclusion, for example, that you were right. My gift to you may be considered a gift indeed."
"Where did that change of mind come from?"
"I couldn't find an argument against yours. Giving someone a gift is an act of caring, and as you rightly so pointed out, caring extends way beyond the material. Thus a gift should be judged by the amount of care put into it, not its material worth."
"That's pretty much what I was trying to say last night, yes." Robin smiled up at him, doing her best not to trip over anything while they made their way towards their by now common favorite place outside the castle. The shoreline of the lake. "I received three more gifts today, even though I'm not so sure if the latter two go by our definition of 'gift' in that sense. The care as well as the message behind them are kinda, well, untranslatable to me. Anyway, I've been dying to tell you about it all day."
"I'm listening. And intrigued, seeing as once again you just have to build up suspense."
"Well, first there was Sprout." Robin started, in ignorance of his second comment, and pulled the delicately ornamented knife out of her robes, showing it to Snape with a smile. "I was quite surprised that she got me a gift at all, to be honest. We've gotten a bit closer through my assistance in her classes, but I didn't think she liked me enough to even remember my birthday, leave alone to get me anything."
"She gushes about you all the time actually, in the staff room, or during meals… It seems to be one of her favourite pastimes to tell everyone, especially me, about your brilliant work." Snape replied, then handed the knife back to Robin who slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm not surprised that she would give you a present such as this; she holds you in a higher regard than she does with most of her colleagues."
"I certainly appreciate it. The gift, and that she's obviously quite fond of me too. Especially since the other two items that were given to me today are way more confusing in their nature and their circumstances."
"I know you received a book during lunch. What was that about?"
"I haven't got even the slightest idea. Nobody knows who it's from or why it was given to me, and I was hoping you could help me solve this mystery." She said, and summoned the object in discussion from her bag, once again handing it to Snape. "There's a piece of paper inside with my name on it, perhaps the handwriting will tell you more."
He stopped walking once his eyes fell onto the title of the book, and he inspected it for a moment longer until he looked up at Robin once again, in sincere surprise. "I have heard of this book, but admittedly I believed it to be nothing more than a myth. It still might be a mere joke; we will have to find out about that."
"What's special about it? It probably contains a bit more information than we are taught here at school, but that can't be it, right?"
"Supposedly, it contains methods to resist all three of the unforgivable curses. I highly doubt that rumour however, for obvious reasons."
"Obvious to you, perhaps. Enlighten me."
"If there was a way you could cheat a curse that was banned by the ministry, wouldn't they have an interest in making that knowledge known and thereby eradicate the usefulness of such curses in the first place?"
"That definitely makes sense. But perhaps they also believe the book and thus the methods to be nothing more than a myth? Either way, I have this book now, and I have no idea who gave it to me."
"I could give you an answer to that even without looking at the handwriting." Snape scoffed, but opened the book and inspected the snippet of paper nonetheless. "Quite obviously, Professor Dumbledore has an interest in it that you become better acquainted with these curses. I don't have to tell you that this isn't a good sign."
"No…" Robin breathed in return, and if she was honest with herself, she could also have guessed by herself that it was the headmaster who had given the book to her. "If Dumbledore wants me to read this, I bloody better should. No matter what his intention behind it is."
"Indeed. I would ask him about it, but he hasn't been letting me in on anything of importance for a while now, and I doubt that he would give me an honest answer even if I tried. We are better off drawing our own conclusions from now on. May I read the book, once you have?"
"Obviously! It's really not much of a gift and more of a homework assignment the headmaster expects us both to do."
"An oddly fitting way to describe it. Tell me, if that was the second 'gift', what is the third?"
"Something I understand even less." She sighed, then fiddled the key out of her locket to hand it over too. "This was given to me without a comment, without context, and with the instruction to not reveal who gave it to me."
"That certainly-..."
"It was McGonagall." Robin shrugged with one shoulder, giving him a small smile which only widened as his brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, and she certainly knows that. But I have every intention to keep her involvement a secret from absolutely everyone else."
"If she was concerned about keeping it a secret in the first place, it likely means that Dumbledore doesn't know. This in return means that whatever his reason might be for not wanting you to have the key, it isn't to your advantage. But the key likely is."
"Why do you think so?"
"Dumbledore has long lost his conscience between the bigger picture and his own ambitions, but Minerva will do what she can to protect the innocent from any misfortune. And if said misfortune was caused or tolerated by the headmaster, I believe she will go against his wishes to act on her own conscience instead. Put differently, Dumbledore's concern lies with the school, and its place in the grand scheme of things. Minerva's concern lies with the learning and wellbeing of both students and staff."
"But… that would mean that Dumbledore is willingly letting something bad happen to me. And McGonagall is trying to protect me from it, even though Dumbledore doesn't want her to."
"So far my theory at least, but I have no proof of it other than both our past experiences. It certainly would make sense in the context of both her own words after the incident with Morgan on the first night of term, and also the fact that Dumbledore gave you the book now."
"Oh great…" Robin groaned under her breath and let herself fall back against the tree behind her. "What have I done that makes me everyone's favourite victim? First Morgan, now Dumbledore, and well… There's literally an entire school full of people to pick on! Why do they keep choosing me?"
"I have another question for you. Why does Minerva believe that an old key will help you against either of them?"
"Yes. Great! Thank you for making matters even more complicated." She rolled her eyes with a huff, but felt bad for it immediately. Time to be better than her emotions. "Sorry… that was really unfair. None of this is your fault."
"It's quite alright." He replied calmly and took the remaining two steps to stand in front of Robin, handing her the book and the key. "I can't say I'm not equally concerned about these developments."
"I just can't get rid of the feeling that it all comes down to Morgan somehow. If McGonagall is the proof of a connecting point, back on the day of the welcoming feast and today, it means that Dumbledore sees Morgan as he is, as a threat, but doesn't want to do anything about it. Not because he doesn't care about Morgan's actions, but because he has some grand scheme in mind where Morgan is a chess piece of yet unknown importance and I'm just a casualty he's willing to sacrifice for whatever greater cause. And McGonagall doesn't want that to happen, but she also can't tell me about it because he doesn't want her to. Does that even make any sense? This is a school and not some bloody thriller!" She scoffed as she returned the book to her bag and the key to her locket, then however didn't lean back against the tree. There was too much tension in her body, too much anxiety in her mind, and thus she simply looked up at Snape with an almost sad expression. "Honestly, what am I missing here? I just… I don't understand what's going on anymore."
"Right now, all that matters is that you are out here, with me. You are supposed to have an enjoyable birthday and not a mental breakdown over people who definitely do not deserve it." He said while lightly tracing the outside of her hand with one finger, and when the gesture made Robin smile instinctively, he took her hand entirely and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find answers to all the questions, given the right time and opportunity. You and me together, like always. Yes?"
"Yes." Robin sighed, and her smile broadened into a real one that captured the rest of her face as well. "Let's walk on then, shall we? You could tell me what the fifth years did that was so terribly annoying during your last class."
"The better question would be what they didn't do to annoy me. I cannot believe I have to get those dunderheads through their OWLs at the end of the year." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and slowly let go of Robin's hand as they sauntered on, along the shoreline. Oh well… Robin was happy about the gesture nonetheless; as small and fleeting as it had been, it had been initiated entirely by him for once.
"You better start telling me then." She suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smile. "If it's such a long list. What did they do wrong this time?"
"Would you like me to answer chronologically or alphabetically?"
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A postcard home
This is for the Tumblr event the wonderful @zonamievents organised, today’s prompts are postcard and hot cocoa. I picked the former.
Summary: Nami thinks she’s so smart and cunning, but she can’t pull the wool over her own sisters’ eyes. Rating: K.
This can also be found on AO3 and FFN.
I’ve never written a no dialogue story before and I wanted to try it.
Enjoy.
Snow had finally settled over Cocoyasi village. It was late this year and everyone in the village had wondered if this would be the first year that they wouldn’t have any before Christmas. It was a big topic for weeks and Nojiko was slightly relieved when it did arrive so everyone would stop talking about it. Although, it certainly did highlight a change for the better. Gone were the times of discussing Nami or hiding from Arlong and his crew when they rampaged or banding together when someone was short on money.
It was a lovely, mundane difference.
The only issue with the arrival of snow, other than villagers now moaning about how hazardous the snow was, was that it was a tough season for Bell-mère’s mikan orchard. Don’t get her wrong, it looked beautiful, snow settled on top of the trees and hints of orange poking through the white, but it meant smaller than usual mikan’s.
Nojiko’s brought out of those thoughts when she heard the crunching of shoes against snow and it’s the mailman looking slightly out of puff. It wasn’t really a quick trip to her house from the village and the snow only made it harder. But she doesn’t dwell on that, because seeing him meant that it could only be one thing being delivered and it had her skipping towards the door to meet him there.
The door’s shutting quickly after his first knock and it’s probably a bit rude, he had clearly wanted to chat, but they can do that anytime, she wanted to look at this as soon as possible. Her fingers are itching.
It had been a while since she’d heard from Nami.
The envelopes open and she’s greeted by the picture of a large Christmas tree, decorated to the nines, on the front of the postcard. It’s a generic picture but it’s normally whatever Nami can get hold of but Nojiko’s still slightly impressed she managed to predict when it’d get here and find one to match that. Their postcards could take anywhere from a month to six to get to the other.
Flipping it over, she scanned the message:
       Everything’s good. Nothing new.
Nami’s messages were always short and to the point. It was hardly like Nami could go into great detail. Firstly, where would she find the time? And secondly, information was brief so nothing could be traced should the postcard be intercepted. And that was fine, it was enough just to know her sister was okay. Also, it meant if information was brief Nami would send photos along in an envelope with the postcard and she loved those.
And low and behold, there they were behind the postcard.
They were hardly ever works of art, but they were always fun and just from those still images Nojiko knew Nami was having the time of her life. Like she deserved to. Also, it was nice to see her sister, even if it wasn’t in person.
But the photo she’s currently looking at is a stark contrast to her sister’s words on the postcard. It’s a group shot of the crew and its chaos, some looking at the camera like good models, others laughing or bickering or extra limbs were sticking out of them, but that’s not what caught her attention.
It’s the man standing next to Nami.
Roronoa Zoro.
She remembered his stern expressions well from back then, always ready for the worst and, she reckoned, hoping for it at times if the blood thirsty gleam in his eyes she’d seen briefly was any indication. But she’d seen first-hand how all of that would melt away after victory or when he was offered alcohol and would laugh at the antics of his crew. A brute with a soft heart, it seemed.
To an average person, with no knowledge of the people in the photo, it would look like nothing, but call it a sister’s intuition… and, okay fine, the trashy gossip magazines she’s been buying to keep tabs on her sister between postcards, it’s certainly not an accurate description of Nami’s words ‘nothing new.’
They’re stood close together in the chaos, much closer than what one would deem friendly (Maybe she’s being over critical, sue her), neither facing the camera as they looked to be arguing. Nami’s finger is pointing at his chest and their faces are close as they exchange words, Usopp’s next to them looking exasperated. So nothing new apparently.
She’d seen the way those two were around each other before they’d left the village and she’d quietly hoped there would be some development. She had to play it cool with Nami though, show too much interest and she’d never find out without a face-to-face conversation. But with how brief their postcards are, she’s left analysing photos and trashy magazines with blurry photos of the two of them together. One time, it looked like they had been kissing off in the distance, but the quality was so poor most people didn’t believe it. But Nojiko could spot her sister anywhere.
Was it too much to ask for photographers to focus their damn snail before taking photos?
Nevertheless it was enough for Nojiko. Flicking through the rest of the photos she was disappointed that there was no more of the two together. Nami was such a tease, dangling a carrot in front of her just out of reach. But she couldn’t be too disappointed when she came across the photo of Nami with her mikan trees… and if she squinted, was there a splash of green hair she saw hidden in the trees?
Nojiko wasn’t born yesterday, Nami’s definitely playing with her. She’d spent her childhood growing up with Nami, she knew her sister like the back of her hand. But it still amused her that Nami tried to trick her, make her work for the information. It’s so like her.
A real witch, you might be tempted to say.
Quite fitting really. A brute and a witch, both too soft for their own good at times.  
In the quiet of her little home, she went back to the first of the photos and was still as she gazed down at the photo, almost like she was trying to soak it all in. Her gaze occasionally taking in the rest of the crew, but ultimately it stayed on Nami. Taking in her long orange hair playing in the wind, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open like she’s in the middle of a lecture. Despite the expression, there’s no weight to Nami’s expression, like there used to be back then. It made Nojiko happy. That was what she’d always wanted for her, wanted her to be where she belonged- at sea, even if it split them apart.
And it seemed Zoro had a part to play in that now, even if it wasn’t one hundred percent confirmed (To Nojiko it was but try telling that to the other villagers).
With one last long look at her sister, Nojiko was opening the envelope again to slip in the postcard and photos, ready to venture down to the village to show the others. However, as she did, the items were met with resistance and when she peered in, she’d missed something else.
Another photo.
With the new photo in hand, Nojiko’s serene smile curled into something much sharper. A mixture of glee and smugness that screamed ‘I knew it!’. It was probably for the best Nami wasn’t here, because that look alone would have her back up, like a cornered cat.
There was less of the crew is this photo, only the five that had been at Arlong park and it looked like they’d finally got their act together. All of them looking at the camera, Luffy’s arms stretched around to bring them all in and even with less of them, it still managed to be just as busy.
But that’s not what caught her eye, no. It’s the arm that’s wrapped around Nami’s waist and a Nami’s head resting on a shoulder. An arm that belonged to Zoro and Nami’s head on his shoulder. Both of them are smiling at the camera, leaning into one another and Nojiko doesn’t have to read between the lines this time to have her confirmation that they are indeed together.
She doesn’t stop to stare at it like the others because she’s too giddy and excited to stand still.
With a skip in her step, she’s shoving the photos and postcard into the envelope and slipping on her coat as she made her way towards the door. All the while thinking about how she wanted to play this with Genzo, so she could get the best possible reaction from him. He’d be horrified no matter what, but she really wanted to milk it. She had to get her kicks somehow.
And, she had some money to collect from some villagers. She was Nami’s sister after all, she’s always down for some easy cash- she just has no idea why they bet against her.
.
.
.
Two months later
It’s warm, the sun’s high and they’re making good progress towards the next island. For the time being, it’s something that doesn’t require her attention and she’s just about to walk across the deck to join Robin for some sunbathing when she heard the familiar cry of the News Coo.
Looking into the sky, it circled a few times before starting its descent and Nami was walking over to meet the bird at the railing.
Unlike the normal newspaper she bought weekly, it was a sealed envelope and Nami was quickly paying off the bird, barely taking notice of the price increase, so she could quickly open her letter. There was only one person this could be from.
The postcard was simple, just a picture of an orange cat, but based on the photos that slipped out of the envelope, it’d been sent around Christmas. Nojiko and Genzo were in one of the photo’s surrounded by snow.
She looked at it for a moment longer, thinking about where she would frame the photo before turning her attention to the letter. Nami had thought it was hilarious when she’d sent her postcard off to Nojiko, just leaving enough crumbs for her to figure it out so when she flipped the card to read the message, she gave a short, sharp laugh.
Nojiko had figured it out alright.
       Nice try. Since when did you take an interest in plant life?
-------------------
By plant life, am I referring to Zoro’s nickname Marimo? Yes, yes, I am.
I love the thought of Nami and Nojiko sending little postcards and photos to one another.
As always, please forgive any errors (especially as I rushed this to post on time).
Thanks for reading.
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terreisa · 4 years
Text
The Perfect Gift
Emma Swan has gotten away with trading out her pick for Secret Santa for three years. When she’s finally forced to keep the first name she pulls from the Santa hat it happens to be Killian Jones, the one person in the office that irritates her to no end.  She makes it her mission to find him a perfect gift and ends up discovering there’s more to the office Casanova than she’d ever suspected.
AO3
~*~CS~*~
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.  Let me pick again!”
Emma Swan groaned as her friend and co-worker Mary Margaret twisted at the waist so the Santa hat in her hands was well out of her reach.
“No.  I’ve let you, and only you by the way, re-pick for the past three years,” Mary Margaret said pointedly, raising her brow at her. “It’s not fair to the others who actually follow the rules of Secret Santa.”
“Rules you came up with,” Emma grumbled, scowling down at the name on the slip of paper in her hands.
“It can’t be that bad-” Mary Margaret sighed, “Zelena was transferred and Walsh was fired so there’s really no one truly terrible participating this year.”
“I think I’d prefer them over the one I did get.  Forget the fact that I can’t stand him, I don’t know what the hell to get him!”
“Who-” Mary Margaret began before her eyes widened and a pleased smile unfurled on her face, “You know exactly what he wants and it won’t even cost you twenty-five dollars.”
“Mary Margaret!” Emma hissed, embarrassed and shocked that her normally prim and proper friend went straight for an innuendo. “Gross.”
“Oh, come on, it’s no secret that Killian has had a crush on you from the moment he stepped foot in this office.”
Emma rolled her eyes at the familiar and franky ridiculous refrain.  Killian Jones was a well known film critic from England that had been hired two years before in an effort by the higher ups to expand their newspaper’s readership.  When he had walked in on his first day, with artfully tousled inky black hair, ocean blue eyes glittering with excitement, and tailored clothes that showed off a trim and toned physique, nearly every single woman in the office had attempted to help him set up his desk.  Emma, on the other hand, had appreciated the new eye candy and then returned her attention to the article she had been working on at the time.
She figured that it was her indifference that had Killian asking her later that day if she’d wanted to get coffee with him.  Of course, after watching him flirt and banter with all the helpful women in the office all morning she’d given him a withering look and a resounding no.  She’d been burned badly before by interoffice dating and she wasn’t looking for a repeat performance, let alone dealing with a no shame lothario.  He had merely given her a puzzled smile and wished her a good day before retreating to his desk. What followed was a year of watching him pull the same tricks with every available woman in the building while still brushing him off every few weeks.  As glad as she was that she hadn’t fallen for any of his pretenses there was an annoying stab of something in her gut whenever he walked someone new out the door with his hand low on their back.
Things had only taken a turn for the worse when Emma had been promoted to a full time writing position in the entertainment section.  While she’d been vying for a byline in that section for years she almost turned it down knowing she’d have to work almost daily near the man that had become the bane of her existence.  There had been an intervention from Mary Margaret, her husband David, and her roommate Belle to convince her to take the position. Even her own boss Tink, editor of the home and garden section, had had to sit her down and talk sense into her.  She’d emerged from her office an hour later, cheeks burning with the praise Tink had heaped on her and ears ringing with the passionate arguments she’d made in her favor. By the end of the week she’d moved her things to a desk across the office, one that was unfortunately situated next to Killian’s.
From the moment she’d unpacked her admittedly meager personal belongings Killian had seemed to take it upon himself to get on her last nerve.  He was constantly leaning over to ask her inane questions about her day or bore her with random bits of trivia he collected like a magpie with shiny things.  Though, she had to admit, it broke up the monotony of trying to think of a new way to write a review for a show that had jumped the shark three seasons before.  She also couldn’t find it in her to really complain about the perfectly made cup of coffee that was always annoyingly waiting for her when she was running late, which happened to be almost every day.  What really got on her nerves, however, was that his movie reviews were insightful, hilarious, respectful even when he hated the movie, and aligned with her own opinions so perfectly that she’d wondered more than once if he could read her mind.
Of course, everyone in the office saw all of that as tantamount to Killian having feelings for her.  Worst of all they saw her laughing at something he said, or drinking the coffee he made, hell even talking civilly with him as her returning those non-existent feelings. When it was really that she just found it easier to go along with his ridiculousness than to wear herself out actively loathing him.  She truly couldn’t stand him but no one else seemed to believe her.
“It’s not a crush,” she refuted though there was no heat behind it because she knew Mary Margaret wouldn’t believe her.
“Sure, uh-huh,” Mary Margaret singsonged with a grin.  She walked backwards away from her, still grinning, “Twenty-five dollars and we’re doing the exchange at the holiday party.  Good luck!”
Emma stuck her tongue out at Mary Margaret as she pivoted on her heel and made her way to the advice column's and editorial’s small cluster of desks.  She sighed, slightly glad she’d been cornered in the breakroom instead of at her desk where Killian would have definitely overheard something she didn’t need him to.  Then again she wouldn’t have had to once again brush of Mary Margaret’s ridiculous ideas of crushes and might have even stood a chance at getting to repick a name. With a groan of frustration she grabbed her now lukewarm mug of coffee and a random loose granola bar and headed back to her own desk, already mulling over and rejecting ideas for what to get Killian.
Twenty minutes and a thorough search of Killian’s almost too neat desk later and she was still at a loss.  She was fiddling with a paperclip to open the locked bottom drawer but knew she had already pushed her luck, time wise.  Killian and Robin, the editor of the sports section, always went out for lunch on Wednesdays and were always back in the office by ten till one.  Glancing at her watch she saw she had less than five minutes to jimmy the lock, dig through the drawer’s contents, get everything back in order, and be sitting innocently back at her desk.  Gritting her teeth in frustration she stood, tossing the half straightened paperclip onto her desk as she looked over the personal effects on his desk once more.
There were a couple framed photos: one was of him and another dark haired, blue eyed man, brother she figured from the resemblance; another was of a woman in soft focus with dark auburn hair that was curled to eighties perfection, his mother probably though Emma could only guess why he chose that photo to put up; the third and final frame wasn’t a photo but his review for the movie The Village, clipped from a newspaper and yellowed with age.  Aside from the frames there were only a few knick knacks: a small replica ship’s compass, a Rubick’s cube she’d seen him fiddle with when he was on the phone or stuck on wording for an article, and a potted plant she didn’t know the name of that he had somehow kept alive in their nearly windowless office. The only thing that seemed to give her any real insight was a thick, well worn paperback. She didn’t recognize the author’s name but the title rang a bell and having no other leads she resigned herself to jotting both down on a Post-It as a starting point.
“Interested in the works of Edwin Stephens?”
Emma jumped at the sound of Killian’s voice next to her.  She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d sat at her own desk to write the name down before realizing she had to come up with a reason for doing it.
“Uh, looking for present ideas-” she winced at her own stupidity, rushing on hoping he wouldn’t catch on to her, “For David.  Mary Margaret’s husband? He’s a big reader. Of everything. Hard to get him something he hasn’t read yet, you know? Thought I’d check if he had any of this Stephens guy’s books the next time I go over for dinner.”
Killian chuckled, settling into his chair, “He might, Stephens isn’t particularly popular but now that his work is finally getting the quality adaptations it deserves more people are starting to read his books.”
“So he’s your favorite author then?” She teased, delighting in the tips of his ears going pink.
“Since I was twelve and a neighbor let me borrow Absolute Bearing.  I was a bit young to be reading it but I loved it. Didn’t actually give it back to the neighbor, now that I think about it,” he hummed thoughtfully before shrugging and picking up the book on his desk. “If Mary Margaret’s husband doesn’t have Siege Perilous then it’s the one to get.  It’s considered to be one of Stephens’ best, and not only by me I’ll have you know. It’s also going to be a limited series on HBO next fall.”
“Really?  ‘Cause it kinda looks like you don’t like it at all,” she deadpanned, eyeing the well bent spine and slight discoloration of the pages.
He rolled his eyes at her, “Ha, bloody, ha, Swan.  I’ll have you know this is the third copy I’ve had to buy since I keep rereading it until it falls apart in my hands.”
Surprised by his utter sincerity she burst into laughter.  He grinned widely at her, absently thumbing at the pages of the book.  As her chuckles subsided she realized that she’d never actually initiated a conversation with Killian, let alone one where she joked around with him.  Suddenly feeling awkward she dropped her gaze to the note she’d written herself and tried to ignore the way she saw his shoulders slump out of the corner of her eye.
“Siege Perilous,” she muttered, carefully adding the title to her note just so she’d have something to do.  She peeled off the Post-It and stuck it to her monitor, “Got it.”
“He should enjoy it-” she looked at him, confused for a moment until he clarified, “David.  Don’t let the nautical themes put you off.”
“Right, thanks.”
She gave him a fleeting smile before turning back to her desk and made a show of throwing herself into her work.  Nevermind that she’d already finished her assignment for the week. Cursing to herself she opened a new document and began typing nonsense until the feeling of him watching her subsided.  She was highly annoyed when at the end of the day that all she’d accomplished was a page full of ridiculous phrases and the tiniest sliver of insight into the man she had to buy a gift for.
A week later she was no closer to narrowing down from over a dozen options.  She knew she was way overthinking it and that if she asked Mary Margaret or Robin she’d have a gift purchased by the end of the day.  Yet, somehow, she felt like that was cheating. It had become a challenge almost, the urge to crack the code to get her sworn enemy the perfect gift.  Though, since their conversation about Edwin Stephens she’d let her guard down and had a few more surprising talks with Killian about the things they liked to do on their downtime.  Which is how Emma found herself arguing with him over the best place to get pizza.
“Are you kidding?  Their crust is garbage!  The only good thing about that place is the sauce.”
“The sauce makes the pie, love,” he said vehemently. “Just because you prefer a paper thin crust doesn’t mean that every other option should automatically be disqualified in your book.”
She rolled her eyes, “Fine, I’ll give you that, I guess, but they don’t even deliver.  Not even Postmates! How are they still in business when they’re missing out on all those potential customers?”
“Ah, so the truth emerges!” Killian said smugly as he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her, “You probably don’t venture to eat anywhere that doesn’t have the option of showing up at your front door.  Think of all the delicacies you’re missing out on, Swan!”
“I eat at places that don’t deliver.  There’s a great Dominican place that’s a whole twenty minutes away from my apartment and I go there at least three times a month,” she shot back before realizing she’d revealed a part of her life she hadn’t meant to.  She scrambled to keep him from thinking too deeply over it, “Besides you can’t say that Angelo’s is the best when you haven’t even tried Pizza on Fourth.”
“With such an uninspired name how can their fare be any good?” He scoffed.  Then he hesitated, looking at her consideringly, “How about we put it to a test?”
“Meaning?” She asked warily.
“Do you have plans for lunch or vehement standards about eating the same thing twice in a day?” He asked, matching her wariness.
She blinked at him, “You want to see whose pizza place is better?”
“It’s the only way to know for sure,” he answered seriously, though she could see the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.
“For scientific purposes or bragging rights?”
“Bragging rights, of course,” he said with a wink.
Ignoring the small flutter in her stomach she pretended to mull it over, “Will there be a medal?  A trophy perhaps?”
“How about a free lunch?”
“Deal!”
He chuckled, “Since Angelo’s is closer shall we get Pizza on Fourth delivered for lunch, then we can walk over to Angelo’s after work?”
“Sounds good to me,” she said happily, already opening the app to order. “Should we go with the classic pepperoni at both to keep it fair?”
“I like the way you think, love, and add on a round of garlic knots to really spice up the competition.  Just let me know when you need my card.”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, busy tapping away at the ordering options.
Later that night, with a lot of hedging and dragging her feet she admitted that Angelo’s was the better pizza.  What she couldn’t seem to admit, even to herself, was that she’d had fun hanging out with Killian outside of work.  She also toyed with and then dismissed the idea of getting him a giftcard to Pizza on Fourth just for the petty satisfaction.
Four days before Christmas and two before the company party Emma found herself wearily scrolling through article after article on Buzzfeed for any kind of inspiration for a gift.  She felt as though she’d had a hundred ideas but none of them felt right. It didn’t help that every time her and Killian hung out that a dozen new options for a gift presented themselves.
“I don’t think he’d want a Tub Shroom, no matter how many people have given it five stars on Amazon.”
Emma groaned at the sound of Mary Margaret’s voice, dropping her forehead to her desk.  She felt a gentle commiserating pat on her shoulder and rolled her head to look up at her.
“He’s impossible to shop for,” she whined. “Is it too late to switch with someone?”
“He is not and yes it is,” Mary Margaret tsked. “Unlike you everyone else doesn’t wait until the last minute to buy something.”
“It’s not the last minute.  I still have two days,” she grumbled, pushing herself up only to slump down in her chair.
Mary Margaret frowned, “Which is not enough time for Amazon to send something.  You’re making this harder than it has to be, especially if you hate the guy.”
“I don’t hate him,” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.
“What?”
“I said-” she sighed and prepared herself for a torrent of ‘I told you so’s’ and squeals, “I don’t hate him.  He’s actually a good guy.”
Mary Margaret smiled widely but surprised Emma by remaining calm, “Then it should be even easier to find something.  Right?”
“That’s just it!” She huffed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “There’s too many options now that I’ve actually gotten to know him.  I should just buy him the best bottle of rum twenty-five bucks can buy and be done with it.”
“Then why don’t you do that?” Mary Margaret asked puzzled, though her smile was still too wide for Emma’s liking.
“It’s so…” she cast about for the right word and nearly let out a frustrated growl when none came to her. “Generic, boring, thoughtless?  I don’t know but I can do better.”
Mary Margaret laughed, “It’s not a competition.  He’ll appreciate whatever you get him. Probably even more so now that you’re friends.”
Emma opened her mouth to refute the claim but found that she couldn’t.  Since their impromptu pizza competition they’d gone to several more restaurants under the guise of deciding who had the better taste.  Even more than that they’d also gone out for after work drinks a few times, talking about nothing and everything, and once she’d gone with him to a critics screening of a movie she’d been looking forward to seeing for months.  That he’d been just as excited to see it and they’d spent hours dissecting it afterward at a twenty-four hour diner down the street from the theater only drove home the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, her friend. She tried to push down the sudden feeling of disappointment she felt at that.
“Ooo, Siege Perilous?  Isn’t that the set you get to visit next month?”
Mary Margaret’s voice dragged her back to the discussion at hand.  She nodded absently, “Yeah, they start filming after the holidays and it’s the only time they’re allowing reporters on set.”
“Lucky, David wouldn’t let me read anything else until I gave it a chance.  I was annoyed at first but it’s really good. You should read it too, get ready for that set visit.”
“I should,” she said slowly, staring thoughtfully at the Post-It she hadn’t thought about since she’d stuck it to her monitor.  An idea started to form in her mind and with it a realization. She looked up at Mary Margaret, “It’s totally a crush isn’t it?”
Mary Margaret’s smile somehow grew wider, “For him?  Or for you?”
Emma surprised them both by smiling herself, “Is it okay if I skip out on our lunch?  I’ll make it up to you.”
“Totally fine,” Mary Margaret said, waving her off. “I think I’ll go out to eat with Tink, she owes me.”
She barely paid attention as Mary Margaret left, already distracted by figuring out what she needed to do and how little time she had to do it.
Two days later, when Emma arrived at the restaurant that was hosting their company party it was already in full swing.  She snuck Killian’s present onto the table that held the other gifts before weaving through her coworkers to get to the bar.  When she got there she was pleased to see Killian already there, chatting with the bartender.
“Gonna buy me a drink, Jones?” she asked as she sidled up next to him and grinned.
“It’s an open bar, Swan, so I’d be delighted to,” he said with a grin of his own.  Then his eyes widened and she watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, “You look-”
“I know,” she said demurely, pleased that her blush pink dress had made the impression she was going for.  She turned to the bartender and ordered a glass of wine, conscious of his gaze lingering on her. When she was handed her glass she turned back to see him still staring at her, “I know I probably already asked this but you’re not flying home for Christmas?”
“Uh, no-” he blinked, shaking his head slightly.  It seemed to clear his thoughts and he gave her a shrug, “Never had a place there to truly call home if I’m honest.  I tend to fly wherever my brother Liam is stationed at the time but seeing as he’s doing the whole first holiday with his girlfriend and her parents I figured I’d stick it out here this year.  It’ll just be me and a yet undecided Netflix marathon to celebrate. What about you, off to visit your own family tomorrow?”
“Oh, I, uh,” she stuttered, caught off guard by the suspicion that his past seemed to mirror hers.  She took a sip of wine to fortify herself, “I don’t have a, uh, family. I usually sleep in and then watch Die Hard before going to Mary Margaret’s house for the day.  Nothing too exciting.”
She took another sip of wine to cover what was sure to be an awkward moment between them.  Killian was watching her with a look she couldn’t understand, not saying a word. Finally after a few seconds that felt like lifetimes she glared back.
“What?”
“Sorry, love,” he said sheepishly, a blush blooming in his cheeks. “It’s just… sometimes you’re quite the open book but then you’ll do or say something that surprises me.  I never would have guessed- well, I knew there was something but I didn’t want to pry and it didn’t occur to me-”
“Killian-” she interrupted, grabbing his arm to stop his rambling. “It’s okay, you can say ‘orphan’.  It’s not like you’re breaking a story I don’t already know.”
He let out a tense laugh, nervously scratching behind his ear, “Perhaps I didn’t want to say it because I loathe the moniker myself.  Schoolyard taunts will do that to a lad.”
Her breath caught in her throat.  She had gone through most of her life not having much in common with people because of how she had grown up without parents or even a stable home.  It was almost ironic that she had been so determined to dislike Killian when he had more in common with her than she ever could have expected. A hiccuping laugh escaped her as she realized just how much she had grown to like him over the weeks since she’d drawn his name from Mary Margaret’s Santa hat.
“I propose a toast,” she said with a wide grin, lifting her glass, “To a couple of orphans not letting a little thing like that get us down.”
Killian gave her a soft smile, raising his glass to hers and tapping them together lightly, “To a couple of orphans.”
They drank, though neither of them took their eyes off of each other.  Emma felt the warmth from the wine spreading down to her toes, though she could have also blamed the look in Killian’s eyes with having something to do with it.  Just as she was about to comment on it and possibly ruining whatever it was that was growing between them the music that had been playing in the background cut out and Mary Margaret was calling for their attention.
“Merry Christmas everybody!” She chirped merrily.  David was at her side with two wrapped presents in his hands, “It’s time to hand out the Secret Santa gifts so when you hear your name come on up!”
Emma felt a thrill of anticipation zip across her stomach.  She turned towards Killian with what she hoped was a calm demeanor only to find that he was still looking at her with a gentle smile, not even paying attention to the names Mary Margaret was calling out.
“Not looking forward to your gift?” She prodded, worried that he’d already figured out that she was his Secret Santa.
“Oh, I’ve never signed up,” he said, giving a fleeting glance towards Mary Margaret before looking back at her. “The past couple years I was flying to England and missing this lovely party.  By the time I had my plans settled for this year it was far too late to sign up.”
“Emma Swan.”
Emma stared at him uncomprehendingly.  She knew she had pulled his name, for one it wasn’t like anyone else in their office had the name Killian even though Jones was pretty common and for another she’d stared at the slip of paper for at least an hour when she’d gotten home the night she’d drawn it, willing it to be any name other than his.  The only logical explanation was that he’d signed up and forgotten.
“Emma Swan?”
Killian’s gaze darted away and then back to her, “Er, Swan?”
“You forgot,” she blurted out. “You signed up and forgot.  Right?”
“No,” he said slowly. “You know how tenacious Mary Margaret is about making sure everyone remembers their gift.  I’ve never done it and still know what a terror she can be.”
With a dawning horror she realized exactly how much of a terror Mary Margaret could be.
“Has anyone seen Emma?”
Killian tilted his head towards the front of the room, “I believe you’ve been summoned for your own gift, love.”
“Yep,” she ground out, narrowing her gaze at Mary Margaret who was scanning the crowd for her.  With extreme care she set down her wine glass, afraid she would shatter it in her anger, “Just going to go get my gift now.”
Wasting no time she stormed to the front of the room, pushing past everyone and ignoring their grumbles in her wake.  Mary Margaret beamed when she caught sight of her but it quickly turned sheepish as Emma got closer. By the time Emma made it to her she was already whispering a rushed explanation.
“-sorry but you would barely give him the time of day and he’s really a great guy.  I figured if you had to get him a gift you’d get to know him and see that he’s not actually terrible.  And it worked! You’re friends now.”
Emma felt her anger leave her in a rush at Mary Margaret’s sincerity and the ridiculous lengths she’d gone to.  It helped that she was right, even though Emma would never admit it to her.
“What if I had just bought him a Starbucks gift card and been done with it?” She asked with feigned annoyance, wanting to know just how invested Mary Margaret was in her scheme.
Mary Magaret scoffed, “I knew you wouldn’t do that.  You complained about him too much to get him something that boring.  I knew you’d use your gift as a way to prove something.”
She gaped at her, surprised by the confidence she’d had in her plan.  Then a thought occurred to her, “You wouldn’t let me repick because every name in that hat was his wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” Mary Margaret grinned. “And don’t worry about someone else getting left out.  I kept your name out of the main draw to keep things even.”
“Then how do I have a present?” She asked, bewildered.
“Santa works in mysterious ways,” Mary Margaret said cryptically, still grinning like a fool.  She plucked a green bag, its handles tied together with a length of red ribbon, from the table, “Here you go.”
Emma took it in one hand and held out the other, “Can I at least give Killian his gift myself?  I don’t want him making a big deal about how he didn’t sign up and embarrassing us both.”
“Can’t-” Mary Margaret frowned dramatically, though her eyes were alight with mischief, “I sent David to give it to him when I first called your name.”
Sure enough, when Emma looked back at Killian he was trying to keep David from handing him the present Emma had brought.  Giving Mary Margaret a withering look she hightailed it back to the bar before anyone else’s attention was grabbed by the escalating argument between the two men.  She arrived as David pushed the wrapped box into Killian’s hands.
“Just take the present, man.  It’s got your name on it so it has to be yours.”
“And I’m telling you there’s a mistake, mate,” Killian bit out, refusing to hold onto the box. “I didn’t participate in Secret Santa.”
“I got it David,” she broke in, grabbing the gift and stepping between them. “Tell Mary Margaret she still owes me answers.”
David looked at her apologetically, “I really tried to talk her out of it.”
“And yet you’re still her accomplice,” she pointed out.  David gave her the same sheepish grin his wife had and she shook her head at him, “You’re both getting coal for Christmas.”
“Bah humbug,” David said cheerfully before giving her a hug and disappearing in the crowd.
“So that charming gentleman is Mary Margaret’s husband?” Killian intoned bemused behind her.
“The one and only,” she said, thinking about how she could cheerfully strangle the couple with tinsel for all their scheming.  She placed both his and her presents on the bar and faced him, “They’ve been together since their freshman year of college and are really bad influences on each other.  I sometimes have to remind myself that David’s a cop when he gets caught up in one of Mary Margaret’s grand plans.”
Killian’s eyes went wide, “Oh?  And what was her grand plan tonight?”
“Well, it looks like you getting a present would be part of it,” she hedged, not ready for him to hear Mary Margaret’s true motivation.
“So it would seem,” he said thoughtfully, tracing the gift tag on his present with his finger.  Then he frowned and pushed her gift towards her, “You should do the honors first, love, since you were actually expecting a gift.”
“Yeah?” She asked, relieved that she could put off an explanation for a few more minutes and highly curious what Mary Margaret’s Santa comment meant.
Killian nodded and said softly, “Go ahead, Swan.”
The tag attached to the ribbon gave her no clues since it was a square of paper with her name printed on it and aside from the ribbon holding the bag closed there were no other adornments.  The ribbon was tied in a simple bow and with a gentle tug it came undone. When she pulled out her gift she couldn’t help but laugh at the copy of Siege Perilous in her hand.
“Mary Margaret was in a tither in the breakroom last week,” Killian murmured, keeping his gaze on the book when she looked up at him, “She was going on about how the person who had picked your name had quit unexpectedly and that she needed to find someone to replace them.  I volunteered, of course.”
“Of course?” She breathed.
He gave her a lopsided smile, “It’s no secret that I quite fancy you when you’re not yelling at me.”
She felt the warmth of a blush in her cheeks and dropped her gaze to the book, running her hand over the cover, “Why get me this, though?”
“You were so skittish when we first talked about it and when you kept the note on your monitor I realized you never intended it as a gift for David.  I overheard you telling Mary Margaret that you would be visiting the set of the new show but felt guilty about never having read the book.  It seemed to me that getting you the book was rather fitting on all accounts.”
Looking back up at him she felt a swooping in her stomach as her eyes met his.  He was still smiling at her but she could sense his nervousness at her reaction to his gift and his confession in the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot and scratched behind his ear.  It was his nervousness that gave her the courage she needed to lay her own feelings on the line.
“It’s your turn to open your present,” she stated, nudging the wrapped box with her new book.
He looked askance at it, “It has to be a mistake and I don’t want to open a gift intended for someone else.”
“It’s part of Mary Margaret’s plan, remember?  So you should open it,” she encouraged.
“Fine,” Killian sighed, picking up the wrapped box, “But I’d feel better about it if I knew what her plan was.  Though you seem to have it all figured out.”
Emma kept quiet wanting to explain everything once he’d opened his gift.  He waited for a moment, watching her, before shaking his head and focusing on picking at the tape holding the wrapping paper together.  She bit her tongue at his fastidiousness, glad that she hadn’t used more than a few pieces of tape for the whole thing. Finally he pulled the paper off, without a single tear, and opened the box only to go absolutely still as he stared down at the present inside.  Glancing up at her with a perplexed look he reached into the box and pulled out the hardback copy of Siege Perilous she’d luckily found at the small bookstore near their office.
“I know the one you have now probably has a few read throughs left before it completely falls apart but I figured you’d want a pristine copy for next month.”
“You bought me-” his gaze darted from hers to the book and back, his confusion easy to see, “Why would you- no, wait, what’s happening next month?”
“Mary Margaret thought that I wasn’t giving you a fair chance, which I wasn’t,” she started, ignoring his last question for the moment, knowing that she had to explain the whys first. “It was mostly me judging you off of my first impression of you and what I’d seen when you first got hired and not by actually taking the time to know you.”
“What was your impression of me, Swan?  It must have been not very favorable for you to not have warmed up to me until recently.”
"I, uh,-" she felt herself flush and she only grew warmer in her embarrassment when he noticed and leaned closer.  Rolling her eyes she huffed, "To be fair you flirt with everyone and there were a lot of women you left the office with when you first got hired."
"Were you… were you jealous, Swan?" He asked incredulously.
“No, not jealous.” she contested hotly. “I thought you were making the rounds and I’d been cheated on by my last boyfriend with our former editor.  I didn’t need to be a notch in someone else’s belt and I really didn’t want to be the focus of office drama again.”
Killian’s demeanor fell but she saw no pity in his gaze, “Oh, Swan, I didn’t know.”
“It is what it is,” she said with a shrug, “The gossip had finally stopped by the time you were hired and I wasn’t going to bring it all back up again with someone I thought was the same type of guy.  Though I know now I was completely wrong about that.”
“You truly didn't know, Emma?” He asked so softly she could barely hear him over the music that had started back up.
“Know what?”
He grabbed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles as he held her gaze, soft and sincere, “You saw me chatting and going places with those women because I didn’t know a soul when I first moved here.  I never led them on or asked for anything more than camaraderie while I got settled because it’s only ever been you.
"I first saw you by chance, you walked by in the background in my last Skype interview and I was smitten.  Of course when I was hired and you rebuffed me while others were clamoring for my attention I was intrigued.  Then we became desk neighbors and I got to know you, one small piece at a time, and I fell. For you. And then with these past few weeks of going for meals and drinks, talking for hours with you I began to think, even hope, that perhaps you might be beginning to feel the same.”
As much as she’d had an idea that he liked her, as well as been told numerous times by multiple people, hearing him say it out loud was like hearing it for the first time.  In a way it was because there was a small part of her that couldn’t believe it wasn’t another conjecture of the office rumor mill. She felt her cheeks begin to ache and realized she had been grinning at him like a fool but had yet to address how she actually felt about him.
“I was really annoyed when I picked your name-” Killian winced and tried to take his hand from hers but she held fast, “and Mary Margaret wouldn’t let me switch and now I know it’s because she rigged it so it was only your name in the hat.  So I was stuck with having to get you a present and practically knowing nothing about you. When we talked about Stephens I realized that it was the first time we’d had a whole conversation. Then we just kept talking and you were nothing like I’d believed you were and I liked spending time with you.  Really liked spending time with you.
“The thing was I kept telling myself that I was only hanging out with you because I needed to figure out what gift to get you and it was impossible.  I wanted to get you a perfect gift, something that was thoughtful and that you’d really appreciate. When I complained to Mary Margaret about it I realized why I wanted my gift to be perfect.”
“And why was that, love?” He asked hopefully.
“Because I fell,” she said simply. “For You.”
Killian beamed at her before swooping down to capture her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.  She sighed into him, reveling in the warmth of him encompassing her as his arms wrapped around her.  All too soon for her liking he pulled back, resting his forehead on hers with his eyes closed.
“One more thing,” she whispered, playing with the soft hair at the back of his head.
His eyes opened and he leaned back, looking at her quizzically, “What’s that, love?”
She grinned at the pet name she’d practically ignored before, “How good of a photographer are you?”
“Fair enough to keep things in focus.  Why?”
“Because the other part of your gift is that you’re going to pretend to be one of our photographers so you can come to the Siege Perilous set visit with me.  Edwin Stephens will be there too and I thought you’d like to get an autogra-”
Emma squealed as Killian picked her up and twirled her around.  When he finally set her down she paid no mind to the stares that they’d surely attracted and pulled him into a kiss far more passionate than the one he’d given her.
Much later, after they’d allowed Mary Margaret a moment of smug elation and left the party to a couple of whistles courtesy of Tink and Robin they were laying in her bed, sweatpant clad legs entwined.  Killian was running his fingers through her hair as she laid curled against his chest, listening to the rumble of his voice as he read Siege Perilous to her. With a contented sigh she figured that maybe Mary Margaret didn't quite deserve that lump of coal she'd threatened her with.
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Defining the relationship between the 12th Doctor and Clara Oswald - part 1.
This is my first Dr. Who meta post; I am going to start with a topic that has had me thinking since I first saw it in season 8.  The relationship between the 12th Doctor and Clara Oswald.    When I watched each episode for the first time I didn’t pay too much attention to all of the details, but I really liked their dynamic, it reminded me of the 10th Doctor and Donna.  Not the same but similar. I now have gone back and re-watched this season to ponder the details a bit more. This comes from me trying to determine what type of relationship they have.  When 12 regenerates and runs around London trying to determine who murdered the dinosaur, he’s disoriented, blunt, and tries to figure out how to define his relationship with Clara now that he is a different person.
When he comes back to pick her up, the two of them slowly approach each other and after he states he’s made some mistakes and he’d like to do something about them he comes right out and says the following.
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Clara replies that she never thought that he was her boyfriend.  To which he states that “I never said that it was your mistake.”
I’m still not quite sure what is going on here.  The Doctor is making it clear he’s a different person and he’s formally reintroducing himself to her.  When she replies that she didn’t think he was her boyfriend, she has a look of slight shock and looks a little dewy eyed. 
Did she think the 11th Doctor was a boyfriend of sorts and now is realizing that this older and very different doctor is not boyfriend material?  One part of me wants to read this as her being hurt realizing that the 11th Doctor really is gone.  Another part of me wants to think that she honestly didn’t see the 11th Doctor as a boyfriend.  Maybe this shows that she was unsure what to think of him?  Maybe she thought of him as a boyfriend sometime  - since she did bring him to Christmas dinner and have him be a boyfriend.  Clara is a great character because she plays her cards very close to her chest and keeps her feelings locked away.  What is interesting is his statement of taking the blame and stating it was his mistake.  That he did lead her on and wanted her to think of him as a boyfriend as the 11th Doctor.
He then takes her back home.  They discuss the newspaper ad and the TARDIS phone number and how this woman is keen on them to stay together.  He directly asks her how she feels on the subject.  He gives her the option that she can only be home if she wants to be home.  Clara looks upset but apologies profusely that she’s sorry; she doesn’t know who he is anymore.
Her phone rings and he insists she pick it up since it could be her boyfriend calling.
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Interestingly, she tells him to shut up as she smiles and looks a little embarrassed before she tells him that she doesn’t have a boyfriend. This leads to the dramatic climax where his past self calls Clara to reassure her, that she’s likely scared and his future self is even more scared and that he uses her friendship with him the 11th Doctor to make sure she helps the 12th Doctor.  He does this full well knowing she can’t deny his request.
She almost cries after he says good-bye and it allows the 12th Doctor to directly ask her if she’ll help him.  He finally gets her to look at him and she has her emotional moment as they hug and she begins to accept the 12th Doctor.  And thus, their new dynamic is established. The Doctor doesn’t think he’s a hugging type anymore, while Clara retorts that he doesn’t get a vote.  To which he replies “Whatever you say.”  He then awkwardly suggests that they get coffee, or chips or chips and coffee.  Clara accepts the coffee.  I don’t know about you, but Clara accepting the offer of coffee sounds like a first date to me.  Both of them have first date body language, he’s hesitant but trying and she goes from being closed off to open as they walk off for coffee.
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Clara beings to relax as she’s thinking - okay, we are going to get some coffee.  Since he has no money to buy, she tells him that he’ll do the fetching but he’s also not sure he’s the fetching type.  As they go off together we get this statement from her to end things:
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Her body language is relaxed and natural.  He’s still a bit uncomfortable, though this is likely in part to him not knowing his new body yet and also still unsure after that intense hugging moment.  The point is she’s now looking at him and she’s more comfortable with accepting him as the Doctor, her Doctor.  Thus, the 12th Doctor will defer to Clara as the boss in their interactions in the future.
In episode 2 “Into the Dalek”, he brings Clara with him as a sort of safety.  He knows she is a compassionate person and it is clear he doesn’t quite know how she fits into his travels, but he does know that having her with him is important to him and he immediately trusts her to help him re-activate Rusty’s memories. 
I think that “The Robot of Sherwood” follows this episode nicely as he feels like he must both defend her from danger and have her attention (as much as possible).  Robin Hood is a dream for Clara and she is dazzled being able to meet a man she clearly loved of as a child.  He can’t believe that Robin Hood is real and must show that he’s “fake” to prove to Clara that he’s real.  I’d say this stems from him in the first episode telling her that she’s standing right in front of him but not able to accept that he is him.  His immediate dislike of Robin Hood and his merry men leads to great banter and only does Clara get him to realize that they are very similar men by telling Robin Hood about the Doctor’s  past.  It is clear that he’s very protective and possessive of Clara and despite his much more bitter and blunt attitude he cares about her.
Unlike some of the previous Doctors who are much more friendly the 12th Doctor struggles with expressing himself through physical contact and words that he can’t always say, he’s the opposite of 10 and 11 on the surface.
However, as he becomes more comfortable with himself and with Clara his physical distance begins to shift. For “Listen” he allows Clara to connect with the telepathic interface to try and find her dream in her own timeline.  For Clara to connect with the interface, he leans over her from the side and guides her hands into the interface before he steps away from her.  There is so much going on in this scene. 
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For the 12th Doctor, this is an intimate behaviour.  If he were completely touch adverse, he could just tell her to place her hands in the interface but instead he guides her hands in with his.  His touch is gentle and there is a bit of a gap between his and hers, but this is something you would not just do with any person.  If this were intended to be a very intimate, more overt and sexualized action, they would have framed it where the Doctor is positioned directly behind Clara, wrapping his arms and hands around her while he reaches around.  Instead, he cleverly is positioned to her left and he’s at her side.  To me this shows that he’s becoming more comfortable and desires some level of closeness with her yet he’s not ready to be more forward in his mannerisms.  He’s not sure what she means to him yet. At the same time, the episode ends with the TARDIS using Clara’s timeline as an input takes her back to learn about his childhood secret.  She doesn’t tell him about her discovery, I feel it in part shows that she too isn’t quite as confident in her relationship with him yet (since she can’t be honest about it) but she protects him as well by not letting him cross his own timeline.  The TARDIS wanted her to meet the Doctor as a child so it must be important to their relationship. 
I don’t want to examine every detail between episodes 2-4, but the episode were the Doctor become much more forward and comfortable with her is “Time Heist” the 5th in this season.
As I watched these episodes a second time it got me wondering how the Doctor developed in regards to how he saw her and his relationship with her.  At first pass, my lazy read is that they are really good friends - on a second re-watch by episode 5 “Time Heist” it is quite clear that the Doctor sees their relationship as a relationship where they go on dates (that really always turn into crazy adventures). “Time Heist” starts off with the Doctor staring into her washing machine as he discusses where to go.
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His suggestions/monologue are as follows: The Satanic nebula.  Or . .  the Lagoon of Lost Stars. Or we could go - to Brighton.  I’ve got a whole day worked out.
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Now, just looking at his suggestions, even with half a brain cell, that looks like the Doctor has planned a day full of activities.  Activities that one would generally interpret as a date; albeit a date only a Time Lord would come up with.  A Time Lord who has been traveling with her for some time.
He’s acting similar to the 9th and 10th Doctors with Rose, 10th with Martha.  Whether or not 9 and 10 wanted to date Rose and Martha is a whole other meta post.  What I want to highlight is Mr. Cranky-Stick-Insect-Doctor flat out told Clara he planned a date for the two of them.  An entire day long.
Additionally, I tried to look up more information on what it means for a couple to go to Brighton.  Some sources imply it is a good place to go on a date from London (which is where Clara lives), another thing I found was that couples that didn’t want to be seen publicly in London would meet up in Brighton.  Or it could just imply that the Doctor is being conventional and suggesting it to be tourists in Brighton, just like tourists of the Satanic Nebula and the Lagoon of Lost Stars.
Clara declines his offer as she has plans.  She tries to non-verbally let him know that she’s got a date, and as expected he’s slow on the uptake - why is she wearing make up?  Why is she in heels?
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Their entire conversation seems to be the Doctor completely confused and missing the fact that she’s going on a date with a guy and it is likely the same guy she went on a date with previously which he knew was happening during “Listen”.
This then leads them to robbing the bank of Karabraxos, helping the abused species and just it is another day with the Doctor and the TARDIS helping the universe.
After their adventure to rob the bank, the Doctor proudly returns Clara in time for her date.  He’s brought her back at 7:12pm for her evening plans.
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Everything about this makes it seem like he’s being a great friend (other than the fact he already got Clara’s attention and delayed her from the date in the first place). He out dated her planned date.
The Doctor then teasingly tells her to not do anything that he wouldn’t do.  Clara responds finally and directly that “this is a date.”  so after their adventure she’s finally spelled it out what is happening at 7:15pm.
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Clara then realizes how she’s going out for another meal after their Chinese take out with Psi and Saibra.  The Doctor then pulls her leg that food eaten on the TARDIS doesn’t count, she asks if he’s kidding and in his deadpan straight delivery he points out that he’s kidding.  Their dialogue gets very interesting as they then banter back and forth again. Doctor:  Bye-bye
Clara: See ya.  Don’t rob any banks. Doctor: Don’t rob any banks what?
Doctor looks directly at Clara as she pauses and then nods as she replies. Clara: Without me.
Doctor: ‘course not boss.
Clara exits the TARDIS, you hear the door shutting.  Doctor: Robbin’ a bank.  Robbin’ a whole bank.
Which leads to:
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The camera then pans out and he walks to the TARDIS control panel and pulls the lever.  The Doctor is in a good mood, just watch how he walks up to that console with confidence and kicks his leg up with a flourish.
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And he’s pretty much in the same pose that Clara was in when she showed off her heels to him when he first asks if she is taller.
So what does this mean?  It means that the Doctor clearly saw their bank robbing adventure as a date.  It was an adventure and everything went well and he got to have hours of time with Clara before her date with Danny.  He won Clara’s attention over Danny.
I see two possibilities i.) he was still oblivious to Clara’s plans being a date and he only recognizes this as a fact when she says so or
ii.) he’s a clever 2000 year old Time Lord and damn well knew she had a date, but he just pretended to not recognize her date b/c he had much better dates planned for them.  If he doesn’t acknowledge her dates with Danny than they don’t exist since she’s having all of these “dates” with him. 
The 12th Doctor is a very competitive individual, the 10th Doctor also had a similar streak in him to out compete others but 12 is so obvious with his.  Therefore, he will compete with every man who vies for Clara’s attention by default.  She’s his friend, he cares about her and he actually needs her to care about him and give him the attention he desires from her.
After “Time Heist” the Doctor is bolder and 100% confident in his invitations to Clara.
In “The Caretaker” we get a fast montage of Doctor & Clara adventures wedged in between her dates with Danny. Or are her dates with Danny wedged between her time with the Doctor?
They are stuck on a desert planet and chained to some pillars.  Clara apologies to Danny for being late which he notices she isn’t late and she’d gained a tan in a few hours.
The next scene shows her coming out of her bedroom which is across from her living room where the Doctor likes to park the TARDIS.  As she comes out her bedroom door, she is clearly dressed up for a date with Danny.  Across in her living room he says “Fish people.”
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Clara asks what they are like to which the Doctor replies:
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He’s got her attention completely, he’s leaning forward his left hand gesturing to her.  He then moves his hand towards the TARDIS beckoning her to “Come and see.”  Without hesitation she hops into the TARDIS.  The next scene shows her getting into a taxi wet as Danny compliments her dress and notices that she’s wet which she explains is a freak shower.  She then tries to be casual as she pulls the strand of seaweed out of her hair.
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It jumps to a scene of them running in some sort of corridor being shot at by laser guns/blasters as the Doctor then declares he hates soldiers and asks for Clara to agree with him, which she does.  With their standard case of running from danger she then gets to open her door to Danny who wants her to go for a morning run with her perhaps on the weekend? Post run Clara declares that she can’t keep doing this - her time with the Doctor is making her time with Danny difficult and it is exhausting as well as hard to explain all the oddities with her in regards to their dates.  As Clara calms down she relaxes and declares that she can do this.  She’s got everything under control.
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And this IS Clara.  She has to make sure that everything she does is how she wants it to go.
The next time she willingly enters the TARDIS prepared for an adventure and the Doctor apologizes that there will be no trip today by trying to flatter her because he thinks it works on her.  Their body language is interesting as she approaches him as he backs away from her and moves the display monitor at the same time. 
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They keep their distance from each other for awhile until he stops and explains that he’s going undercover and can’t tell her what it is.  The entire time their body language is cat and mouse and she even tries to sneak a look at the monitor before he flips it off.  Clara tells the Doctor that he’s being mysterious and goes on to say that as he is a clever person, he is making the mistake of thinking that she is stupid. Clara then points out that he likely can’t do undercover and teases him.  He  angrily snaps his fingers to open the doors and tells her that he will see her when he sees her.  Clara sasses back “When’s that?”, clicking her fingers and shutting the doors forcing him to reopen them repeating that it will be “When I see you!”
She suspiciously strolls around him as she slowly exits the TARDIS and even reopens the door trying to get a look at the monitor as she points out non-verbally that she’s watching him.
The interaction between Clara and the Doctor then is repeated with Danny.  He asks if she’s okay since he’s observed that every time he sees her (on dates) she comes to the rushed, in a state, or with a space helmet.  Clara tries to blow off his comments by referring to her relationship with the Doctor as a “thing” that she’s had, but doesn’t have currently.  Danny doesn’t buy this and reminds her that he isn’t stupid. 
So Clara tries to do the exact same things to Danny that the Doctor tries to do to her.  The Doctor is beating out Danny when it comes to their dates every single time.
The morning teachers meeting then introduces the Doctor as the new caretaker.  Then in front of all of the teachers he introduces himself and winks right at Clara and smiles proudly in her direction!  He’s thinking he’s so smooth! 
Clara is shocked and the Doctor seems to be giving off the vibe of “Look at how awesome I am undercover Clara!  Impressed aren’t you? You are impressed.  Tell me you are impressed.”
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This entire non-verbal exchange is hilarious because the Doctor is so into his undercover disguise that he thinks he’s all suave and awesome and look at how playful he is.  This is the Doctor who when he first regenerated wasn’t sure how to be happy or fun and was scared about getting coffee or chips.  Now he’s hamming it up as he’s more confident with Clara. Of course as he keeps going on about how no one is noticing him he boldly lets Clara know that his deep cover is awesome as she angrily gives him a hard time.  On top of that, Danny immediately picks up that she knows him as she tries to ignore that he winked at her. When she finally goes back to confront him, he uses his broom to keep her away from him as he remarks that she saw right through his deep cover.  He won’t give her any details, but it is clear enough that she knows he’s doing something that has to do with aliens.  Due to his status being undercover he tries very hard to push her away and not give her anymore information since whatever the situation is, he will be able to manage it himself. This episode also builds up the tension between the Doctor and Danny.  This is highlighted by the fact that as soon as he learns that was in the military the Doctor judges him and makes him a P. E. teacher implying he doesn’t like him and dislikes P. E. teachers as well.  Clara puts a lot of effort trying to get the Doctor to realise that Danny is linked to her timeline from “listen” and I’m going to say that the Doctor likely on some level knows there is something with Danny but he’s too judgemental and stubborn to admit it.  He argues that Orson Pink doesn’t look like Danny.  This could be him just being oblivious but he follows it up by questioning Clara’s observation that Orson Pink must be related to Danny.  Adding in that “Who remembers their P.E. teacher?”  This statement is contradictory since the Doctor has just associated Orson with Danny (with his nickname of P.E.) and then his statement implies that Danny is totally forgettable.  The Doctor even then uses this as a segue way to asking if “he” is here.  The one guy that she keeps going on serious dates with?  The Doctor doesn’t even look at her when they are talking and she looks very happy during his question.
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I wonder if her happy/pleased look is because she’s happy the Doctor is asking her about her personal life?  She asks him if he’ll start talking like a human being if she reveals the man to which the Doctor retorts he won’t because he’s being nice.
This then leads to the mix-up where the Doctor thinks she’s seeing the other english teacher who looks like the 11th Doctor. When Clara finally gets him to tell her about his plan, since she knows him well enough to conclude that his plan is dangerous and may involve the school she is annoyed that he keeps it from her in the first place.  Though this is in part due to her conclusion because she will disapprove it, he just won’t say anything to prevent her being the boss of him. The Doctor after explaining about the Skovox blitzer that he has a plan and it requires his special watch.  He dramatically poses looking right at Clara before he uses it to make himself invisible.
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Upon being invisible he then flicks Clara’s nose.  She is briefly annoyed but very quickly she goes from being annoyed that he didn’t share things with her to being completely excited by his invisible watch.  Thus, the Doctor and Clara are playing with each other again, as he hides from her in plain sight and she loves it.
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This is a person who is having a blast. She’s so excited that she even giggles and she says its incredible.  The invisible Doctor then states that “Correct.  I am both invisible and incredible.”  And the two of them start feeding off of each others excitement and she’s ready to help out with capturing the alien. 
But the Doctor let’s her know he’s got this one figured out and that she doesn’t need to worry.  Instead, he jumps to telling her their next trip will be to ancient Egypt and that she should go canoodle with her boyfriend.
And then the two of them make incorrect assumptions as the Doctor tells her that he knows who she is dating through vague terms that describe the 11th Doctor and the english teacher while Clara thinks he’s referring to Orson Pink in regards to Danny.  Clara then takes his advice and runs off to actually follow his advice since the Doctor is insisting she hang out with her boyfriend.
The situation becomes a comedy of errors as Danny cancels on Clara so that he can watch the Doctor and at the same time Clara runs to the Doctor as soon as Danny cancels on her.  No date, the only other thing for Clara to do is to hang out with the Doctor and help him out!
Of course Danny messes with the Doctor’s plans and when he figures out that Clara and the Doctor know each other and worse, Danny calls him her Dad.   They both look mortified in response to this comment. 
And then the totally awkward moment begins as the Doctor decides to erase his memory - and Clara stops him by pointing out that Danny is her boyfriend.  The Doctor has the gall to say he isn’t her boyfriend and that she’s made a boyfriend error - she would not date a P.E. teacher or soldier. To rub the salt in Danny’s wounds he suggests that Clara get a dog or a big plant instead. 
Ouch. 
The Doctor is hurt and upset; this version of the Doctor can be cruel when he’s upset.  She argues back that she loves him and then the Doctor is stunned.
He’s so upset that you can see the shock, hurt, and pure disappointment in his face.  He would have been okay with the 11th Doctor look-alike as the boyfriend since she’d be dating a ‘version’ of himself.
The Doctor is literally holding back tears here.  He looks at Clara, then to Danny, then back to Clara has he has to actually compose his thoughts.
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Clara said that she loved Danny.  His only retort is “Why would you say that?  Is this a part of the surprise play?” 
He’s devastated.  Clara has just openly said that she loves someone - and that person isn’t the Doctor.  Clara stuck with the Doctor after he regenerated and has still be traveling with him and they have grown even closer as a result.
At this point it is clear that the 12th Doctor doesn’t just want Clara to see him as a boyfriend like 11.  He loves her.  And to hear her tell him that she loves another person, he just can’t handle it. 
This version of the Doctor is terrible with his feelings or expressing them well. Additionally,  he isn’t good at reading others as he gets upset and tells her it is a roller coaster while he asks why she isn’t dating the bow tie guy as Clara says that he “isn’t her type” (perhaps evidence that she did not see 11 as a boyfriend) and also implies that if 11 isn’t her type - what is her type?  At the same time Danny is also reeling from the fact that there is this man, called the Doctor, who is an alien who hangs out with Clara and is clearly very involved with, but never mentioned once.  Interestingly, without missing a beat, the Doctor reveals the TARDIS and then Clara begins to explain it, but she whispers to the Doctor what else to say and he tells her to lead to the line that “it is bigger on the inside than on the outside.”  Even then when Clara needs a hand the Doctor immediately helps her out even after being hurt so much. Despite seeing the TARDIS, Danny is not convinced by the Doctor’s plans and they immediately argue until he passes Danny off to Clara to deal with as they debate what to do while Danny is completely ignored.  As the Doctor bitches about having tons of work to do, Clara asks him if he’s okay. She doesn’t ask Danny, instead she asks the Doctor - likely since he’s upset about how things went wrong and he learned that Clara loves Danny.
Clara then works on getting Danny out of the Doctor’s way and he tells her that Clara still needs to finish the job.  She told Danny about the Doctor without explaining Danny to him.  He’s right, but his attitude is incredibly aggressive and the Doctor is really hurt.  Danny was upset that Clara never told him about the Doctor and it is clear this hurt is vice versa but that the Doctor likely feels like he is owed more since he’s known Clara much longer than Danny. After this completely horrible interaction/nightmare for Clara as Danny and the Doctor have met and it didn’t go well - she is dying for Danny to say something.  He summarizes what to Doctor looks but it leads to a very interesting conversation between them. Danny: then he turned into a Scottish care taker and every now and then, when I’m not looking, you elope with him . . . Clara: I don’t elope.
Danny: Do you love him?
Clara: No.
Danny: Really had enough of the lies. Clara: Not in that way. Danny: What other way is there?
Clara: You know what I mean.
Danny: I don’t know what you mean.  I know what you tell me isn’t always the truth.
With these lines from Danny it is clear that, i.) he sees that the Doctor is a man who is competing for Clara’s attention with him [which is true].
ii.) he sees that she loves him and he can’t separate the type of love that she feels for Danny and the Doctor.
iii.) by telling her that he knows she’s lying, he’s thinking that she may love the Doctor more than him.  Maybe?
This leads into their further conversation where Clara tells him that he knows who she is - but Danny wants to know who she is - when she’s with him.  When she is with the Doctor.  Which implies that Danny knows that there is a part of Clara that only comes out with the Doctor.
Clara’s clever plan is to have Danny use the invisible watch so he can see that Clara is the same with the Doctor as with him.  Just like with the 9th Doctor and Mickey who he called Ricky - the 12th calls Danny Dave instead.  Of course the Doctor figures out that Danny is in the TARDIS with them and he tries to distract Clara by saying he’s bored and that he’ll get her back just in time like he has for all of her previous dates.
The Doctor plays dirty as he reminders her that she’s never said “. . .no before, even in the middle of dinner [implied dinner date I take it].”  Clara does her best to prevent him from traveling with Danny in the TARDIS and it results in the explosive argument where the Doctor and Danny go straight for each other since neither of them can stand the other.  Danny sees the Doctor as an elite and the Doctor thinks Danny isn’t good enough for Clara as a former soldier.
Yes, Danny helps to save the day and Clara is caught between the Doctor and Danny vying for her attention as Danny concludes that he has to be good enough for the Doctor to approve of him.  Neither man looks at each other as the Doctor does accept the fact that Danny helped to save the world.
The episode ends with Clara and Danny relaxing as she tries to get Danny to agree with her that the Doctor is a good guy underneath everything and she reveals that she trusts him.  Danny wants Clara to trust him and since he knows men like the Doctor he doesn’t want her to become hurt as a result of the Doctor’s actions.
This is interesting since the Doctor obviously wouldn’t want to hurt Clara, the Doctor has always wanted to protect his friends yet this sets up further conflict between the Doctor and Danny. 
What I find interesting about Danny is that he assumes that Clara isn’t choosing to do things with the Doctor of her own choice and free will.  She does trust him and does crazy things - but from her perspective she’ll be alright - something that Danny does not agree with.
By the end of this episode, the Doctor’s view of his relationship with Clara has been shattered.  The man she is dating is NOT the type of man he’d like her to date and it also means that Clara doesn’t feel confident to come clean to her about him.  Danny is very upset about her lies to him.   Yet, he doesn’t realize that the Doctor is even more hurt and upset about her lies to him.  She has know Danny a much shorter time than the Doctor.  All around the end of “The Caretaker” leaves everyone  completely unhappy and disgruntled.
Clara’s conversation with Danny about her own feelings for the Doctor are unclear to me.  Is she denying that she loves the Doctor?  Does she not want to admit that she has deep feelings for this Doctor?  Or is she uncomfortable with putting a label on their relationship which would the force her to define it.  At the end of “Time Heist” the Doctor has defined their activity as a date. He has defined their relationship to himself but not to her. 
At the same time, I think Clara refuses to label or recognize their relationship.  This would imply that Clara would have to first off define the relationship to herself and then define it to the Doctor and then to others.  It is easier for Clara to retreat to a relationship with Danny since he is much less complicated than the Doctor. 
What this shows is that at this point in time the Doctor and Clara are failing to communicate with each other even though it is evident that they are in a relationship of some sort, that includes love and crazy dates. I’ll pick up with part 2 starting with episode 7.
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violetsmoak · 4 years
Text
Pieces of April [12/?]
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530
Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.
Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila were in a brief relationship.
First Chapter
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Isabel’s place has a lived-in feel that Jason is not very familiar with.
Willis and Catherine’s tiny apartment is a distant memory for him, and the handful of foster homes that followed don’t even rate. Wayne Manor, while once home, was never exactly what one might call “homey”; and the less said about his time in the League, the better.
As for his network of safe-houses, these are meant more for function and convenience than to encourage long-term comfortable living.
Very different from the room illuminated when Jason flicks on the lights.
Warm, inviting colors grace the walls, somehow blending well with living room furniture meant more for comfort than to match. In the kitchen, dishes dry on the rack because there’s no dishwasher, while a vacuum cleaner lies forgotten in the hallway. There’s no evidence of a maid or English butler the way Tim’s place has; like Jason, Isabel was uncomfortable with being waited on.
Half of her kitchen table is buried beneath a sea of papers, piles of junk mail, receipts and a newspaper or two.
It’s second nature for Jason to go through the detritus, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for. When he doesn’t find it, he slips into the kitchen, rifling through cupboards and drawers. Lots of people will stash small, important property in their kitchen, banking on would-be-intruders focusing on the obvious takes like televisions and computers. Since Jason isn’t in a hurry, he has the luxury of searching through everything himself.
Apparently Isabel wasn’t worried about theft since he finds nothing; frowning, he glances over to the fridge for potential clues. Magnets from what appears to be every country she’s ever visited hold up notes against the chrome façade, along with pictures and business cards and—
Jason reaches out before he’s aware of it, tracing his finger across the edge of the black and white printout that holds the prominent place of center. The sonogram picture is different from the one’s he saw on cases before he died, or even the kind he sees on television. It’s not simply a grainy outline of a vaguely baby shape, but a 3D image that details the features of the infant he held in his arms just last night.
He reaches out to take it off the fridge, then thinks better of it and backs away.
Not like I need to keep anything like that, I’ve seen the actual baby already.
He wanders over to the kitchen counter, sifts through more paper. There’s an actual physical day planner there that’s seen better days, pages ripped and bent and some stuck together. He pockets that, intending to go through it later; it might hold information about her friends and contacts.
Speaking of…
He studies the walls and surfaces of the unit, noting the sea of personal trinkets and photos of Isabel. Most of them are of her and a bunch of other, usually against the backdrop of a beach or bar lounge. Some of them include herself and Safiya—he recognizes one of the photos as having been taken on the edge of Robinson Park, in the area that’s still safe and Poison Ivy free.
In all of them, she looks happy, which calms that lingering part of him that’s worried his presence in her life had any kind of lasting trauma. Either she is—was—the most well-adjusted person ever, or she had a Wayne level of ability to pretend.
Studying the rest of her belongings along the bookshelves and coffee tables, something strikes him; in addition to the usual paperback bestsellers and gossip rags he would expect from someone of Isabel’s age and interests, there are baby books tucked everywhere.
From parenting How-To guides, to early readers that are still in pristine, sometimes packaged condition. There are fairy tales and Spanish alphabet books and board books with various textures cut in the pages.
Like someone was gearing up to become Supermom.
Which she was, wasn’t she?
Numbly, he wanders down the hall, glancing briefly into the master bedroom before his eyes are drawn to the second room. It feels like the bottom of his stomach has dropped out as he looks at the door, and the pretty, swirling pink script stenciled across it. Letters set between colorful flowers and balloons.
Luisa.
Tentative, he nudges the door fully open and wanders into what is clearly a nursery. There’s a crib set up, with a mobile of stars and planets, a changing table, rocking chair—quite a few of the mysterious objects he spied sitting in a pile on Tim’s living room floor.
All of which speaks of a woman who very much wanted the baby currently residing in the Gotham General neonatal wing.
Jason sits down heavily on the rocking chair, barely hearing it creak beneath him as his thoughts play on repeat.
She wanted this.
But she didn’t tell him.
Obviously she didn’t want him involved.
But then why list him as the father?
Why make him her emergency contact, instead of her friend? It seems like an awfully calculated, purposeful move for someone that didn’t want him in her child’s life.
He gazes blearily around the nursery, eyes flitting past the typical soft and fuzzy and mostly pink stuffed animals and blankets. Everything in here was chosen with care as if picked directly from a catalog, and with intent.
Except for one thing.
Jason stands, reaches for something on top of a chest of drawers just beside a baby monitor.
The Red Hood plush toy is a ridiculous caricature, with a bulbous head and stubby arms. Toy companies have been making merchandise off the world’s heroes since time immemorial, but he didn’t realize that plushies were a thing.
Let alone that there’d be a version of me included in the line.
His thumbs slide across the tiny stylized red bat on its chest; there are fabric holsters but no guns, of course.
It’s the only item that seems out of place in the entire room.
Obviously placed here on purpose.
But wouldn’t that mean…?
Mind reeling, Jason returns to the living room, more determined now to figure out Isabel’s frame of mind. To know the thoughts behind her decisions. There’s a folder among the medical stuff, with information relevant to her pregnancy—medical history, prescriptions—but nothing written in her hand.
Which isn’t surprising. Who keeps a journal these days when everything’s online?
That has him searching out her computer, which is set up in the corner of the living room on a tiny desk. He boots it up and studies the keyboard to see which keys are more faded than others.
Before he can make much headway guessing her lock-password, there’s a bang that has Jason whirling around. His instinct is to reach for his gun, but being mindful of his location thinks better of it.
Just as well, considering who the intruder is.
“What do you think you’re doing here?!” Safiya demands from the doorway of the apartment. She’s holding an aluminum baseball bat and wearing a fierce expression. “This is not your apartment! I will call the police if you don’t—” She cuts off when she recognizes Jason. “You.”
“Hi,” he says, somewhat bemused.
She doesn’t relax, narrowing her eyes at him; they are puffy and bloodshot, and he suspects she’s been crying since leaving him and Tim at the hospital.
“How did you get in here?” she demands at last, suspicious but somehow bypassing the usual questions he'd expect. “I have only set of keys.”
She brandishes the keychain in hand as though to make a point.
The utter lack of surprise or fear catches him off-guard; Jason falters for a minute thinking of a plausible lie to tell. And then he decides he doesn’t have the energy.
“I picked the lock on the window,” he tells her.
Safiya’s eyes narrow. “They teach you that sort of thing in bodyguard school?”
Nice lie, Drake. Obviously she didn’t buy it.
“Can’t all be taking bullets for the president.”
“Right…” Safiya lowers the bat, but only incrementally. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to…see for myself,” he finishes lamely, still not entirely sure how to answer the question.
“I understand.” This time the fight goes completely out of her. She steps into the apartment, glancing around furtively, and then closes the door behind her as she comes inside. “You might have mentioned earlier you wanted to come. I could have given you the keys.”
“Wasn’t really thinking about it back then,” he tells her, watching her set down the bat. “You’re pretty intimidating for someone so small.”
“This is Gotham,” she retorts. “It would be stupid to be anything less than vigilant whether you have cause to fear or not.”
“And you don’t have cause to fear?”
“When one has a guaranteed death hanging over one’s head, there is very little to fear.”
Jason thinks of his time as Robin, of the danger and the close calls, and of his life now; the certainty of it ending in blood and fire and another goddamn plaque in the Cave.
He gets it. More than she knows.
“Fair,” he acknowledges. He pauses, a bit awkward, and asks, “How are you holding up?”
“As well as can be expected,” she sighs, looking around the room. “It does not seem real.”
“You’re telling me,” Jason says, though it comes out as more of a sigh. He feels the tension in his shoulders, which have been pulled tight since Safiya first made her appearance, ease. “Have you had a chance to reach out to anyone?”
“Not yet. I’ve been…processing.”
“If you need help…” he begins, uncertain about what exactly he’s offering to do here.
“You have other things to worry about,” she replies with a shake of her head.
No kidding.
He recalls his conversation with Tim about the fate of the baby, and before he can think better of it, blurts out, “Do you know anything about her last boyfriend?”
Safiya gives him a sharp look. “Why? Are you going to try to convince him the baby is his?”
There’s judgment there, not entirely unwarranted maybe.
“No. But maybe he and Isabel have—had mutual friends. People who might…”
Take the baby.
He doesn’t need to say it out loud, she clearly follows his thought process. This time there’s no judgment, surprisingly.
“His name was Jonathan,” she recalls. “Sutter, I think.” Jason makes a note of that. “He’s an accountant for one of the big firms downtown.”
 “Accountant, huh?”
Guess she wanted someone the exact opposite of me the next time around…
“Yes. They met at the hospital the last time the Joker escaped,” Safiya explains. “He was being treated for that horrible gas, and Isabel was…”
She trails off, considering him carefully.
“Recovering from the bastard shooting her up with heroin,” Jason says darkly. “Yeah, I was caught up in that myself. Not a night I want to revisit.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Safiya says dryly. “Anyhow, they went on a few casual lunch dates and she said it might be getting serious, and then I didn’t hear from her for a week. I’m guessing that’s when she was with you. And then two weeks after that, they were together.”
“How serious was it?”
“Serious enough, I think. She was happy.” She pauses here, lower lip trembling and inhales deeply through her nose. Jason recognizes the look of someone trying to stave off tears. “Then it was over and she was alone. Shortly after she told me about the baby, and…well, you. Sort of.”
Jason swallows, not even able to imagine what Isabel might have said about him. There’s a long silence between them, both of their thoughts clearly on the woman whose presence is so pervasive in this room.
Safiya sniffs.
“Listen,” she says at last. “I can see you want to do right by Luisa. I don’t know what Isabel’s reasons were for not telling you. But I don’t think it’s because you would harm a child. As long as you’re acting as guardian to Luisa, I will make you the same offer I made her mother: I will help you as much as I am able. Just call me and I’ll do my best to be there.” She offers Jason a wan smile. “You are not alone in this.”
“So I’ve been hearing,” he replies heavily. “Still working on the believing.”
There’s a trilling noise and Safiya reaches for her pocket for her phone, sliding her thumb across the screen to silence it.
“Speaking of believing,” she says. “I have to leave for prayers now. If you were anyone else, I’d worry you intended to steal and sell her belongings but given who your partner is…I doubt you’re hurting for money.”
Jason snorts. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“I’m also assuming you can let yourself out of here the same way you got in,” she continues. “So I won’t offer you my keys. Unless you intend to take over plant-watering duties?”
“Uh, no. I’m the opposite of a green thumb.”
He doesn’t mention that he’s never taken care of a plant on his own, let alone a child. Probably she won’t appreciate that kind of gallows humor.
“Alright then. I will see you around, I guess.” She pauses in the doorway. “Although, the next time you come by, at least send a text message or something so I don’t accidentally knock you out.”
And with that, she’s gone.
Jason shakes his head, mouth quirked upward in grim amusement. Knowing his luck, and his frame of mind, she’d actually manage it.
He doesn’t move immediately upon finding himself alone again, feeling rather like the interlude with Safiya has broken through some of the mounting, breathless panic he had been feeling before.
His eyes catch upon the fridge again, and the sonogram picture there, and he physically shakes himself.
Get back to work.
The computer in the corner is open on the login screen, and he goes to sit down, setting to work decrypting her password.
It doesn’t take very long—she’s not the kind of person to use something obvious like ‘password’, but a lot of civilians don’t bother with the randomly generated string of numbers, letters and symbols. It takes about fifteen minutes for him to happen upon the word based on faded keys—a mashup of her parent’s names and some numbers he supposes holds significance to her—and he’s into her system.
It’s a job he’s had to do uncountable times in his life, scanning through private files and documents of murder victims or suspects. It’s always had a kind of morbid quality to it before, but he’s feeling that even more now.
He knew this person.
He knows if she was here—if she was still alive—she would not be happy with such an invasion of her privacy.
But she’s not here, is she. That’s the whole problem.
He swallows, flipping through the digital folders; when nothing jumps out at him immediately, he decides to come back to it and instead opens her email program.
It’s mostly a list of weekly work schedules and the requisite spam from subscriber lists, but then he notices there’s a single file in the Drafts folder that curiosity has him clicking a moment later.
[Draft] [email protected] (no subject)
The last date it was modified is the day she died. He clicks on it, eyes immediately flying to the first word—Jason—before stopping, breath catching. Because while this is exactly what he’s been trying to find since he got here, it’s also exactly what he didn’t want to find.
Dreading what he’s about to discover, he takes a breath and braces himself to read the whole thing.
Jason—
I don’t know if you even use email or not, but I saw this on that ridiculous Rent-a-Bat sign the last time I was in California and figured I’d try. I’d call your cell, but I might screw up saying what I need to over the phone. Assuming you even pick up for me.
At least this way, I might work up the nerve to press send.
I’m pregnant. About seven months now—
He pauses, glancing again at the time of the email, because Isabel had been nine months pregnant when she died, which means she started this email months ago but never got around to sending it.
Never got around to, or never worked up the courage.
Just like Safiya said.
He goes back to reading.
—About seven months now.
It’s a girl, and she’s yours based on the dates the doctors gave me. I wasn’t with anyone but you, unless Kori’s people can get a person pregnant by just touching them.
(The baby’s perfectly human by the way, according to the tests.)
I didn’t find out until weeks after we ended things, or I would have told you when we last spoke on the phone. After that, I didn’t know how to tell you. About the baby or the fact, I’ve decided to keep her.
I was scared. For a lot of reasons that I’m sure you understand. I was worried you’d try to talk me out of this, and then I worried if anyone were to find out, they might try to use us against you. It’s already happened once; it can happen again.
There are rumors all over Gotham that the Joker’s dead, but they’ve said that before. It’s dangerous here, so much so that I’ve thought about leaving the city with her and starting over. Except, it’s hard enough to do this Mom thing by yourself in the only place that’s ever been home, let alone up and move somewhere you’ve got absolutely nothing.
And to be honest, I’ve never been the type to run away from something.
Which is why I’m embarrassed it’s taken me so long to get in touch with you.
I’m not sure if I’ve been more worried that you’d want nothing to do with me or her, or the opposite. That you’ll do the decent thing and give up everything you do—all the important stuff, saving innocent people and fighting aliens and taking out the worst criminals—just to be here. Because that’s the type of person you are. You’re hard because you have to be but inside, you’re a good man and you’ve got a code. On that front, I can’t think of a better man to have a child with.
But I also get that you might not want to or be able to be that person. And I understand all of that. I would never ask you to change your entire life because of this. You have a purpose and resources and plans I can barely imagine, but I think in some ways I’m a lot freer than you are.
I’m lucky here, I have a friend to help me out in the first weeks, and my job has an excellent daycare program for when I’m off maternity leave. I have a support system and we will be alright on our own if you decide you can’t or don’t want to be a part of this.
But I hope you’ll want to.
I want her to meet you, whether it’s now or years from now. A kid has a right to know her family. I lost mine too young, and you said you did too. I don’t want that for our daughter.
I’ve decided to call her Luisa, after my mother. I haven’t chosen a middle name yet, in case you want some input on that, but otherwise I’ll
The email cuts off abruptly there, and he finds himself wondering what interrupted her, even though he can guess the reason. His brain is still struggling to compute her final words to him.
There’s a lot to unpack, but the most startling thing is that Isabel wanted him to know.
She not only wanted this baby, but she wanted Jason to be in her life.
In their lives, more to the point.
Stunned, he leans back in the chair and stares unseeing at the computer screen as he tries to sort out how he feels about all this.
He doesn’t notice that hours have passed until the hospital contacts him hours later.
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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years
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Cutie and the Beast - Jason Todd x Reader
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YES ! I LOVE THIS !! Ahem. Sorry. Have I ever mentioned that Jason is my favorite Robin ? No ? Well now you guys know. So here’s some love for my favorite batboy/Badboy !! Oh, and thank you very much, my writing loves you too (hum…), and I hope you’ll like that  : 
You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives
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-Jason…what are you wearing ?
Without looking up from the newspaper he was reading, cup of coffee in one hand, Jason answered :
-It’s a cardigan. 
Jason and Dick were sitting on the counter of the kitchen, in Wayne Manor, and were having breakfast. They were often the first awake in the house, sometimes, like today, being up even before Alfred, and they always took their breakfast together, talking about anything.
This morning however, Jason didn’t come from the stairs that lead to his bedroom, he came threw the front door. Dick was going to ask him where he slept last night when his eyes were met with the…”cardigan”. Anyone that didn’t know Jason wouldn’t have found what he wore strange, it fitted him pretty well actually. But Dick knew Jay. And a…”cardigan”, was so not his style. Not at all. He had to ask about it.
-…Ok, but why are you wearing it ?
-Hum, to be warm ?
-I mean, where’s you’re usual leather jacket ?
Jason rolls his eyes at his older brother and ignore the question.
-No but for real though Jay, where the Hell did you got a…”cardigan” ? Sorry I’m just so weirded out right now…
-My girlfriend knitted it for me.
Dick froze and stared stupidly at his brother, mouth open.
-Your…girl…You have a girlfriend ? And she…knits ?
-Yup.
-Care to elaborate ?
-Nope.
-Come oooon.
-What do you want me to elaborate on anyway ? I do have a girlfriend, yes, and she knitted me a cardigan. There’s nothing else to say.
-What do you mean there’s nothing else to say ? You, the bad boy of the family, date…
-Listen Dick, drop it alright ? It’s not a big deal. Besides, if all of that intrigues you so much, just come over tonight to have dinner with us at her place. And you’ll meet her. She bakes some of the best cupcakes I ever ate.  
Tim, Bruce, Damian and Alfred entered at this moment, and Tim said :
-Who bakes the best cupcakes you ever ate ? I’m interested !
-Good, because I actually came over this morning to invite you guys tonight for dinner over at my girlfriend’s place. I’ll text you the address. And before you say anything, it’s her idea, not mine.
Bruce raised a curious eye brow at him :
-You have a girlfriend ?
-Who knits him cardigans !!
-…Have you been drinking Dick ? This early in the morning ?
-No, look at him Bruce, look at what he’s wearing !
They all stare at Jason, who just rolls his eyes once more and, finishing his coffee, stands up.
-Yeah well, see you tonight then guys. I’m counting on you, you’ll hurt her feeling if you don’t come. She’s a sensitive girl. So see ya.
And on that note, the man leaves the kitchen, grabbing his backpack on the way, whistling a jolly music rhythm. They were so confused…Jason had a “sensitive girl” as his girl ? What ?
-What the fuck is even a “cardigan” anyway ?
Alfred cannot hold a chuckle at his master’s word. You know that Bruce Wayne is troubled when he starts to swear…
******************
You smile as you hear the lock of your front door click, reminiscing last week, when you decided to give Jason a key to your apartment. It was definitely one of the best idea you ever had, as somehow, he was more often over now than ever, since he had the keys.
He threw his stuffs on the couch and went to the kitchen, where you were baking a fresh batch of cupcakes and other chocolate chip cookies.
He came behind you and wrapped his arms around your chest, bending down to do so, and buried his face in your neck. He was almost twice your height, and you had quite a petite frame, so much that by holding you like he was, if anyone was looking at his back, he wouldn’t notice you in his arms.
You giggle as his short stubble tickled your throat, sighing as his lips left feather light kisses on it.
-So, are they coming ?
-Yes. They’re suppose to.
You turn around his his embrace, and wrap your arms around his waist, his head goes to rest on top of yours, and he breathes in the honey smell of your hair.
-Suppose to ?
-They’ll come. They’re too curious.
-Curious about what ?
-You.
You pull away and he smiles as you try to hide the blush growing on your face. He loved the way you’d get flush whenever someone took any interest in you. You were so shy and cute…and he was a loud mouthed Beast. He always wondered how you ended up together, it was so unlikely.
He met you while on duty as Red Hood, and saved you from a group of thugs. Very cliche…Except that before he could even do anything you had stabbed one of your opponents in the thigh with a knitting needle, and smack another one with your heavy purse full of books. He still saved you but he was so impressed…and when he saw your bright (E/C) eyes, and your (H/L) (H/C) hair swiping in the wind. He would never admit it, but it was definitely love at the first sight. However, being in costume he couldn’t do anything…Fate reunited you two though. Or at least, he strongly believed it was fate.
You worked in a bakery near downtown Gotham, and for some reasons, he found himself one morning craving for a croissant, and entered your shop. And here you were. Everything happened for a reason, he thought.
From that day on, he went to buy cakes and such (even though he didn’t really have a sweet tooth) just to see you, until he gathered the courage to ask you out. He saw multiple men before him ask you, and you always turned them down.It didn’t really surprise him that men were swarming at you. You weren’t the most beautiful woman, but there was something about you that was just so damn attractive. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but…damn. It was silly of him to feel great whenever you turned someone down, as he didn’t even know you, but still…He felt great whenever you turned someone down.
When he asked you out, he was ready for you to tell him no…which never happened. On the contrary, you looked at him, blushing, and smiled shyly while saying : “I’d love to…”
That was almost a year ago, and it was a miracle that he kept the relationship a secret. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of you, not at all, he was just…he wanted to make sure things were serious before doing anything. He got hurt so much in his life, he’d rather his family not know that he was dating someone if she decided to just dump his ass all of a sudden. He didn’t want their pity. He didn’t want anyone’s pity.
Which is why he loved you so much. Threw that year spent in your arms, he told you about his life story, and instead of pity, you showed him love, affection, understanding. When, a few weeks ago, he told you who he really was, and why some nights he suddenly disappeared, you didn’t even flinch. Why would you ? You loved him, it didn’t matter if he was a night vigilante. On the contrary, you approved greatly of it. Unfortunately, like a lot of kids in Gotham, you lost your parents when you were young. Your father was killed by a police officer while he was stealing from a jewelry shop,and your mother died of a heroin overdose. You strongly believed the city needed Batman and his sidekicks. Or like you liked to say : “Red Hood and his sidekicks”.
Short story long, you were perfect for him. When they people see you they usually think your a mis-match. You, small, cute, nice and positive, him, all leather jacket and ripped dark jeans, broody and menacing. But they couldn’t be more wrong. You were very complementary. And you had more in common than anyone could think…You weren’t as nice and cute as everyone thought you were, and he wasn’t as mean and dark as people pegged him.
As cheesy as it sounded, you were just perfect for each other.
At this thought, Jason can’t help the smile on his face and takes you back against him, hugging you tightly. He grabs the under of your thighs, and lifts you on the kitchen counter where you sit. Like this, you don’t have to go on your tip toe to kiss him, and he only has to bent slightly his head to reach your lips.
The kiss is short and sweet at first, but rapidly turns passionate and hungry. His hand slowly go up your naked thighs, up under your skirt and…
-Jason, stop, I gotta prepare this dinner honey. We don’t have time for any of that.
-Any of that ?
You blush.
-You damn well know what I’m talking about.
-Maybe I do, but I’m not sure…care to elaborate ?
You smack him lightly on the shoulder, and his smug face annoys you, you push him away, and get back on your feet, faced with his abs once more, as you’re really quite shorter than him. He was wearing a muscle shirt, and it took all your will to look away and not reach under his shirt to palm at his perfect body…He smiled smugly at you. The little shit you the effect he had on you. Unfortunately for him, you also damn well knew the effect you had on him, and with a sexy sway of your hips, you went to bent forward to grab hot cupcakes from your oven. He bent his head slightly, and you snatched his hand away when he laid it on your ass.
-I said no.
And on that note, you went back to your cooking and baking, under his amused gaze. No matter how small you were, you could be quite convincing when you wanted to. Strict. Though he could see in your eyes that you were going to make it up to him later in the night, when she didn’t had tons of thing to do, and it was just the two of you.
He smiled fondly at you, and, after watching you work for a bit, he went to get some sleep, as the night before, he didn’t get any. And it wasn’t just because of his nightly patrol…
****************
Someone knocks on the door and your heart goes wild.
Of course, it was your idea to invite them for dinner, but still, you were super nervous about meeting your boyfriend’s family. Not because his dad was the famous Bruce Wayne or some shit like that, just because it was a huge step in your relationship. So far, he only spoke about them, and clearly had no intention of presenting them to you…until a few weeks ago, when he finally told you his secret (you were so glad he was “Red Hood” and that he wasn’t cheating on you, by the way…or that he wasn’t some drug lord).
Jason went to open the door, still wearing his cardigan, and hugged his brother and father as they entered. He guided you to your small living room, now crowded with giant men. Seriously, even the youngest one, who couldn’t be more than ten, was taller than you. What the Hell ?
You smiled shyly at them, and they returned your smile awkwardly, visibly surprised and somewhat confused. You knew why. Again, you and Jay, when people first saw you together, don’t seem to match well. It’s only after they see the two of you interact, playful and full of love, that they realize that you’re actually great for each other.
-Guys, this is (Y/N), my girlfriend. Who yes, knits and stuffs. (Y/N), my dad, Bruce, and my bros, Dick, Tim and Damian, but you can call that one “the brat”.
Jason’s dad and his oldest brother hold on the youngest one, who was about to lunge at your boyfriend, and you can’t help but smile a bit. They were exactly like you imagined them. You couldn’t help but notice that Jay was the tallest of the brothers, as tall as his father, who really was a damn giant.
You didn’t feel impress though, pass the initial shock of the fact that even the kid was taller than you, you were fine. You were used to be the smallest person in the room, though you made a mental note to ask Jay for a massage when they were all gone, as looking at them put quite a strain on your neck.
After some civilities to meet them and all, you went on the table.
The meal you prepared was magnificent, but you couldn’t help but notice the little one pouting. Your motherly instinct (though you were still quite young) kicked in :
-What’s up Damian ?
-I’m vegetarian.
Damian’s voice rang coldly in the room, as he looked at the meat you prepared. Dick hit him lightly behind the head, and Bruce shoved him in the shoulder a bit, making their intentions clear : you were not going to ruin the night boy.
-I know, Jay told me, I made a special vegetable casserole for you, hope you’ll like it…
She looked at the boy expectantly as she laid a plate full of delicious steamed vegetables in front of him. He took a bite, and just nodded at her, a smile almost showing on his lips. And once again, they all stared at you, kinda stunned.
How could you be so sweet and date Jason out of all people ? It was so confusing.
Threw the night though, you showed them your wits and cleverness, and your conversation was so interesting that even Damian didn’t get bored and took part in it.
Bruce could see what Jason saw in you. You had a lot of thing in common with her, but you also were much more positive and bubbly, and he understood why his son needed someone like you in his life. If he was honest, years ago, when he still believed in the possibility to have a relationship, he would have hoped for someone like you. Who obviously accepted him for who he was, no matter how flawed, and who brightened his world a bit. A perfect match.
Dick was totally jealous, but was also extremely happy for his brother. And when he thought about it, you were more the kind of person he would be best friend with than anything else…Still though, he was totally jealous.
Tim liked your way of being, liked how unimpressed with all of them you were, even though you knew who they really were. He liked your eyes, because in it, he saw nothing but softness and niceness, with a hint of mischievousness, and he thought that it was perfect for his brother. He was an observant boy, he could see the look Jason gave you, and the one you gave him. And he was just happy for his older brother, because that guy suffered enough.
Damian approved of you. But he would never admit it. He thought it was funny how small you were, and felt the weird need to protect you. Multiple times in the future, Jason would thank him for keeping an eye on you when he couldn’t. Damian approved of you, and that was already a lot. He’s also the one that found the nickname to call the both of you : “Cutie and the Beast”. It made Jason’s brother laughed a lot, him ? Not so much. You thought it was great.
The day you really met Alfred, you guys became friend instantly, and baked all day. Of course you would.
*************
The dinner went on perfectly, and you kept your promise about making things up to Jason. That night was one of the greatest night he ever had…
**************
So sure, you were small and he was a giant. You were often smiling and he was brooding most of the time. You liked soft and cute things, and he was gruff and rugged. You were a cutie who knitted and baked, who liked period dramas and romcoms, who was oversensitive and who loved to just snuggle. He was a hard man, leather jacket and all, almost a biker looked, ear pierced and metal fan with messy hair, full of sarcasm. You looked the complete opposite…But only at first sight. If people looked a bit more, passed their initial confusion as why you were together, they would see it. They would see you were made for each other.
You and Jason didn’t seem like a good match, and yet, no one else in the World could be more perfect for each other.
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zareenecherise · 6 years
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Walt Disney Timeline
1922 May In Missouri, Walt Disney incorporates Laugh-O-gram Films, using the assets of the failed Iwwerks-Disney Commercial Artists venture, and US$15,000 from local investors. Within a year, the company is bankrupt.
1923 October In California, Walt and Roy Disney form the Disney Brothers Cartoon Studio, with a contract to produce "Alice Comedy" films about a live girl in an animated world. About 55 films in this series are produced over the next four years.
1927 March The Disney studio begins producing "Oswald the Lucky Rabbit" films, indirectly for Universal Pictures. 26 films are produced in just over a year.
1928 March The Disney studio loses its contract (and many animators) to produce Oswald the Lucky Rabbit films. Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks develop the Mickey Mouse character. November The first Mickey Mouse film, Steamboat Willie, debuts at the Colony Theater in New York. This is the first cartoon designed for use with a soundtrack.
1929 May Disney releases the first Silly Symphony film, The Skeleton Dance. This series allowed animators to experiment and try new ideas. December Walt Disney Productions is formed, with divisions handling film production, real estate, and merchandising.
1930 January The New York Mirror newspaper publishes the first Mickey Mouse comic strip. September The film Chain Gang debuts Pluto.
1932 May The film Mickey's Revue debuts Goofy, as "Dippy Dawg". July Disney releases the first full-color animated film, the Silly Symphony Flowers and Trees. November Walt Disney receives the first Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences award (Oscar) for a cartoon, for Flowers and Trees. Walt also receives an Honorable Mention Oscar for the creation of Mickey Mouse.
1934 June Donald Duck debuts in the Silly Symphony film The Wise Little Hen. Donald Duck's distinctive voice is supplied by Clarence Nash.
1937 December Disney releases the first feature-length animated film, Snow White and the 
Seven Dwarfs. 1940 February Disney releases the animated feature film Pinocchio. November Disney releases the animated feature film Fantasia.
1941 October Disney releases the animated feature film Dumbo to theaters.
1942 August Disney releases the animated feature film Bambi.
1946 November Disney releases the live-action and animated feature film Song of the South.
1950 February Disney releases the animated feature film Cinderella. July Disney releases its first entirely live-action film, Treasure Island. December Walt Disney makes his television debut in One Hour in Wonderland.
1951 July
Disney releases the animated feature film Alice in Wonderland.
1953 February Disney releases the animated feature film Peter Pan.
1954 October The ABC TV network begins airing the weekly Disneyland television show.
1955 June Disney releases the animated feature film Lady and the Tramp. July Disneyland opens in Anaheim, California. October The ABC TV network begins airing Disney's second television show, The Mickey Mouse Club.
1959 January Disney releases the animated feature film Sleeping Beauty. June Additions to Disneyland include the Monorail, Matterhorn Bobsleds, Submarine Voyage, and a second Autopia.
1961 January Disney releases the animated feature film One Hundred and One Dalmations. September Disney's weekly television show moved to the NBC TV network, with the new title Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color. A new character, Ludwig von Drake, is introduced.
1963 June The Enchanted Tiki Room attraction opens in Disneyland. This is the first attraction with sophisticated Audio-Animatronics figures.
1964 April The New York World's Fair includes four attractions built by Disney: Magic Skyway, Progressland, Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln, and It's a Small World. August Disney releases the live-action and animated feature film Mary Poppins. The film is nominated for thirteen Academy Awards, winning five.
1966 February Disney releases the animated film Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree. December Walt Disney dies of lung cancer. His brother Roy becomes new chairman of the company.
1967 July In Disneyland, the Tomorrowland area is updated with new attractions, including: Carousel of Progress, PeopleMover, Rocket Jets, and Adventure Through Inner Space.
1970 December Disney releases the animated feature film The Aristocats.
1971 June Disneyland welcomes its 100-millionth guest. October Walt Disney World opens in Orlando, Florida. The Magic Kingdom, similar to Disneyland, is the first park to open. December Roy Oliver Disney dies of a stroke. Don Tatum becomes new chairman of the company.
1973 November Disney releases the animated feature film Robin Hood.
1975 January The Space Mountain enclosed roller coaster attraction opens in Walt Disney World.
1979 September The Big Thunder Mountain Railroad attraction opens in Disneyland. October Walt Disney World welcomes its 100-millionth guest.
1980 June Card Walker becomes new chairman of Walt Disney Productions.
1981 January Disneyland welcomes its 200-millionth guest. July Disney releases the animated feature film The Fox and the Hound.
1982 October EPCOT Center opens at Walt Disney World, with pavilions representing eight countries
. 1983 April Tokyo Disneyland opens, in Japan. The Disney Channel, a cable-television network, begins broadcasting. May Raymond Watson replaces Card Walker as chairman of Walt Disney Productions. October Disney releases the animated film Mickey's Christmas Carol, with the first appearance of Mickey Mouse on film since 1953.
1984 March Touchstone Pictures releases its first film, Splash. Roy Edward Disney resigns from the board of directors, and begins work on changing Disney's executives. Saul Steinberg attempts a takeover of Disney, acquiring about 12% of outstanding stock, before being bought out by Disney for US$325 million. September Disney's board of directors vote unanimously for Michael Eisner as chairman and chief executive officer, and Frank Wells as president and chief operating officer. Roy Edward Disney becomes head of the animation division.
1985 (month unknown) Walt Disney World welcomes its 200-millionth guest.
1986 September The 3-D film Captain EO, starring Michael Jackson, opens in the Magic Eye Theatre in EPCOT Center.
1987 November Touchstone Pictures releases the film Three Men and a Baby, which becomes Disney's first film to earn over US$100 million.
1988 June Touchstone Pictures releases the live-action and animated feature film Who Framed Roger Rabbit. The film cost over US$80 million to make and market. Donald Duck and Daffy Duck meet on-screen for the first time. The film receives four Academy Awards. (month unknown) Disney releases the film Cinderella on videocassette, selling 6 million copies for US$100 million. December Disney becomes Hollywood's top money-making film studio for the first time in its history.
1989 May The Disney-MGM Studios Theme Park opens in Walt Disney World. July The Splash Mountain log ride attraction opens in Disneyland, with 105 Audio-Animatronic characters based on the 1946 film Song of the South. September Disneyland welcomes its 300-millionth guest. November Disney releases the animated feature film The Little Mermaid.
1991 May Tokyo Disneyland welcomes its 100-millionth guest. November Disney releases the film Fantasia on video cassette. Over 14 million copies are sold, making it the biggest selling video to date. Disney releases the animated feature film Beauty and the Beast. The film is nominated for a Best Picture Academy Award, the first for an animated film.
1992 April The Euro Disney Resort, featuring the Euro Disneyland park, opens in Marne-la-Vallée, France. November Disney releases the animated feature film Aladdin.
1994 June Disney releases the animated feature film The Lion King to theaters. July The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror attraction opens at Disney-MGM Studios.
1995 April Disney releases the animated feature film A Goofy Movie to theaters in the USA. July Disney buys the ABC TV network for US$19 billion. October Walt Disney World welcomes its 500-millionth guest. November Disney releases the Pixar computer-animated feature film Toy Story.
1996
Disney's Celebration city in Florida opens.
1998 April Disney's Animal Kingdom opens in Walt Disney World. June Disney releases the animated feature film Mulan to theaters in the USA. July Disney launches its first cruise ship, the Disney Magic. November Disney releases the Pixar computer-animated feature film A Bug's Life to theatres in the USA.
1999 June Disney releases the animated feature film Tarzan to theaters in the USA. November Disney releases the Pixar computer-animated feature film Toy Story 2 to theaters in the USA. December Disney releases the animated feature film Fantasia/2000.
2000 December Disney releases the film The Emperor's New Groove to theatres in the USA.
2001 January Downtown Disney opens in the Disneyland Resort in Anaheim, California. February Disney's California Adventure theme park opens, next to Disneyland. June Disney releases the animated feature film Atlantis: The Lost Empire to theatres in the USA. September In Japan, Tokyo DisneySea opens, featuring seven themed areas with 23 attractions. November Disney releases the Pixar computer-animated feature film Monsters, Inc. to theatres in the USA.
2002 March The Walt Disney Studios Park theme park opens next to Disneyland Paris in France. June The Disney Channel debuts the animated Kim Possible TV show. Disney releases the animated feature film Lilo & Stitch to theatres in the USA. November Disney releases the animated feature film Treasure Planet to theatres in the USA
. 2003 March Disney releases the animated feature film Piglet's Big Movie to theatres in the USA. May Disney releases the Disney-Pixar computer-animated feature film Finding Nemo to theatres in the USA. July Disney releases the live-action feature film Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl to theatres in the USA. August Disney releases the live-action feature film Freaky Friday to theatres in the USA. October Disney releases the animated feature film Brother Bear to theatres in the USA.
2004 April Disney releases the animated feature film Home on the Range to theatres in the USA. November Disney releases the Disney-Pixar computer-animated feature film The Incredibles to theatres in the USA.
2005 June Disney releases the live-action feature film Herbie: Fully Loaded to theateres in the USA. July Disneyland celebrates its 50th anniversary, with a re-dedication ceremony. September Hong Kong Disneyland opens. Michael Eisner resigns as CEO of the Walt Disney Company; Robert Iger becomes new CEO. November Disney releases the computer-animated feature film Chicken Little to theatres in the USA.
2006 March Disney releases the live-action feature film The Shaggy Dog to theatres in the USA.
April Disney releases the computer-animated feature film The Wild in theaters. June Disney releases the Disney-Pixar computer-animated feature film Cars to theatres in the USA.
2007 May Disney releases the film Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End to theaters. June Disney releases the animated film Ratatouille to theatres.
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Stories we tell ourselves
Some of us are born with a natural sense of bravado and bravery. Confidence in their collect features. But many of us are not, to many, such was the case for Reynold Roy Richardson, the third son of Miguel Jonathon Richardson. Reynold Roy Richardson, Roy for short, was born with exceptionally low confidence in everything. He was averagely tall and averagely skinny and had average body type and average coloring. Just another shade of blue in the fifty eight crayon box. And although some days he wished to be something better, he had no real motives to get there and so settled with being happy with his droll, tired, average self. He could shoot a hoop from half court given enough tries, and while the guys at school thought that was pretty cool, so could everyone. However one day his life took an unexpected turn for the oddest. It started in home ec class, his usual partner who added too much salt to everything was gone for the day, so he was paired with Ruby haired Robin. Ruby haired Robin was a loner oddball who watched asian cartoons and drank real smoothies and had short red hair the stuck up at odd angles. Her doctor who sweater was too big for her and her boots too tall, her glasses seemed to eat half her face under their big frames. As she sat down he could almost feel her discontent and irritability at the long day. They made cupcakes, but instead of putting a perfect hat of frosting on them Robin dolloped a huge drippy mess of hers, they cleaned up and she stacked everything wrong and it fell down in a huge clatter. It soon became obvious to Roy that Robin was exceptionally perfect, at being completely imperfect. The next day she had a homemade beanie and they made banana bread. She tried to start conversion.
“Hey you, don’t you think miss Barreyman looks like she should be wearing a bowtie?” It was an odd question but did make sense if you saw miss Barreyman. Miss Barreyman wore power suits and high heels everyday and drank black coffee out of a gallon mug without smudging a bit of her bright red lipstick. She looked like she could have gotten away with murder in her youth, but now had tired eyes and drippy eyeliner and less perk and pep.
“Yeah sure”
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Ruby chirped, honestly would she just shut up? Why did she wanna talk to me anyways?
“No”
“Oh sorry.” lapse silence “Do you watch doctor who?”
“No, but my sister does” My freaky man obsessed sister, I borrowed her laptop once when I was ten and that's how I learned how men made love, well gay men, in her adolescent imagination.
“Oh thats cool, Supernatural?”
“What?”
“The show?”
“I don-” the bell rang, “I gotta go” finally, free from her weird conversation topics.
The next day Robin wasn’t there, salt boy was back. we made brownies, I turned my back for one second and when the brownies came out of the oven they shimmered with a fine layer of salt, he had mistaken the teaspoon for the tablespoon again. We had no conversation, but I kinda missed the weird break from normality that was Ruby haired Robin. She didn’t come back the next day, or the next day, or again. Later that week there was an article in the newspaper about a young teen girl commiting suicide. However I got a nagging sensation she was still around. Rationally she couldn’t be, but I swear I felt her irritation and discontent still, following me around. Then it happened, I was just chilling in my room gaming and eating BBQ Lays when I heard a sigh, I looked up and saw Robin, or rather a specter of her, sitting on the corner of my bed staring longingly at the bag of chips i was eating. Gone was the dark makeup and cakey foundation that looked hastily applied. In its place was a plain, but not unadorable face, slightly boyish with freckles and light lashes. hair was several shades lighter and curly in a baby pony tail, and she was wearing a huge pair of dragon pj pants and a tank top with a bow on the front. With a gasp Roy leaped from the spot on his bed and to the window and started fumbling for the latch, he had seen enough horror flicks to know what would happen next.
“Eeeek!” Robin saw his sudden scare and jumped off the bed and backed towards the door.
“Holy crap you’re dead!”
“Obviously! I’d actually be eating those chips if I could. I haven’t had anything to eat in like five days and I’m dying…” She stopped realizing the actuality of the pun “Again”
“But you’re dead, like dead!”
“Yes I am, it’s all the aliens fault.”
“Aliens?!?”
“Yes aliens!” She settled down on the bed again. “I don’t quite remember my death but I remember that there was a bright white light like a beam and I was lifted up and then it was really painful and I died, and since God doesn’t exist for me it must be aliens.”
“Okay…” This chick was clearly mad, looney, but since I was seeing ghosts didn't that make me looney as well? “So what would I do about that?”
“Well I don’t quite know why but as soon as came to you were standing right in front of me. It was at school in the home Ec lab. And since then I can't wander away from you. It’s like you’re my earthly tether?”
“Well then untether yourself! And leave me alone. I don't believe in ghosts.”
She seemed to shrink, ”I’m sorry but I don’t know how to do that!!!!!” I immediately felt both bad and embarrassed, I was yelling at a dead girl.
“No don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for yelling, but seriously, you could try to untether yourself…” Even that comment seemed stupid to me.
“Can you tell me how that game works?” She completely ignores it.
“Um sure.” I picked up my controller and proffers it to her small hands when I realize it will just fall through.
Our heroes spend the rest of the day with Roy eating chips and pointing out how different buttons work to a confused and hungry little ghost girl.
“And see, The boss has been defeated and now I just walk over using the joystick to walk and steer and can collect all my booty-” He stops when he hears a soft sighing whistle, draped across the shelf in the corner is a sleeping Robin, apparently ghosts sleep. Her face is turned away and her arms are crossed as they hang off the shelf.
“Royyyy! Dinner time!” His mother called him to the table.
“Coming!” As Roy shut the door to his small room he remembered, the dead don't need to breathe, so if Robin snored it was out of habit, a painful reminder of the times she had been full of life.
“Why do girls wear so much makeup?” Roy's questions all seemed to be common knowledge to me. I wonder why his brain hasn’t thought to comprehend these things yet, I will not say as much however because it would he horribly rude. Many things he thinks are common knowledge I have not even began to think through yet.
“Well… because they don’t believe they look good without it or desirable to the people they wish to attract. And it is a mask to hide behind so that they can face others of their species proudly without feeling inefficient. I wear- wore mine as a mask so that people would leave me alone and know I did not want to be apart of their games.”
“What games?”
“The contest between girls to be the best, like how some girls like to manipulate guys into liking them just to feel important and get all the attention because they base self worth on those things. I guess I understand how they need these things to feel alive, and I won’t oppose them unless they hurt someone I care about then I will destroy them. There are too many to oppose plus it doesn’t seem fair to deny them their existence.”
“Why do you think you’re any different?” The question is loaded and Roy knows it.
“I’m not, I just try harder not to be.” He snorts in surprise.
“Why just people who are important? What about yourself?” This seems genuine.
“I’m not very important to myself, I guess I wanted to live because anything else is scary and the effort, but I don’t see why I should be special because I don’t have any special talents and I don’t want to run around being just self important.”
“Isn’t that view a bit insulting to the people who care about you?”
“Yes, but what else do you expect me to do? Go to K-Mart and buy myself some self confidence? If I’m just a melodramatic teenager like normal this should go away soon and if I’m not I’ll just go buy something to fix it.” I can feel my translucent shoulders begin to tighten up and tears hot in my throat, I swallow them down before they spill out. Funny how even ghosts can cry, I wonder if ghost tears have magical potency? One spills and as I reach up to brush it off Roy dabs it with a sleeve.
“Hey sorry, you okay?”
“Yeah sorry I’m just overactive!”
“Come here?” He awkwardly offers me a hug, I don’t want to be rude and also, even dead girls need a hug sometimes.
She’s a fellow comrade in normalcy, and I feel sympathy, I also know how it feels to be frustrated by my lack of talent. As she accepts my hug I also feel envy, men aren’t suppose to cry.
Air rushes past us suddenly and we are flung into space violently buffeted by wind and something else like small rocks. Surprise makes me grip the only solid seeming thing around me, regardless of the weirdness of the solid. I can hear Robin screaming, or is that me? Then stillness, we are jerked into a still space and righted, well mostly…
Blinking tears out of my watering eyes I perceive colors and then images, it’s like we’re standing inside a painting, fractured images surround us in ever changing patterns and textures. Robin gives a little gasp and moves fluidly towards one. I follow not wanting to get lost inside this seeming endless maze of mirrors and illusions. I manage to grab her bare foot as she is sucked forward into the image.
Space, outer space, below the earth twinkles like a diamond covered in muddy water and around us are lights and nebulas of dust. It seems like it should be cold but I cannot feel anything, Robin gives a cry of excitement and spins in a circle laughing.
“It's just like a story I saw once!”
“Saw?” I grab at a rock floating next to me and do several slow spins in place.
“Yeah, I saw it in a dream!” She tries to right me and ends up floating the opposite direction, I grasp her wayward feet so that we are not separated. A roar buffets by us and a giant, gray, blinking mass careens past us like a torpedo. The alien saucer heads straight towards earth on a warpath. Robin gives a little yelp of fear and puts herself in front of me, like her slight body can hide me from the probing spacecraft. Fear is written on her face, and for the first time I think I may believe her a little bit about the alien story. Air rushes again and a pulling sensation drags us back, until my room swims into focus before my eyes. Robin sits against the other side of the room frozen in fear, no matter of potato chips or british shows lures her out of her spot lodged behind the door.
When she finally moves her heart is set on finding out what happened, she swears it’s somewhere, somewhere in her memory she blocked out.
I know now I have to know what happened, no matter how painful or violating the truth, a morbid part of me needs to know. If curiosity killed the cat than satisfaction brought her back. Me and Roy watch movies on aliens; independence day, alien, doctor who: the water of mars. Nothing sparks recognition. I look for scars on my body when Roy isn’t home but all I find are all my old self harm scars with my new cuts that now would never heal, just glow a subtle red against my skin. When I look at then my head hurts remembering the mood that made me do that, but it seems with my body I also shed a weight that the doctors called clinical depression, funny, it felt like a weight before, now it feels like the aliens stripped more from me than life, a part of my mind i missing. My fingers burn to hold a pencil, stupidly i try, the pencil moves an hair’s breath when I go through it. I have nothing else to do so I commit to picking up the pencil.
“Hey so you know Ruby Haired Robin?” I casually ask Bryan in the locker room.
“Yeah! That chick who liked Brian and always carried a sketchbook with her?” Bryan is a tall, athletically gifted guy with killer abs and a crisp cut look like a male model. He doesn’t have much in the way of brains but if you give him a piece of paper he can write a sonnet to make shakespeare cry.
“Yeah her! Wait she liked Dwain?” Hm interesting.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“Well… do you know if they stated a cause of death?” He cringes a little.
“Morbid man, yeah it said she had been big on cutting, there were hundreds of wounds all over her body and she had bled to death from a few in her sleep.”
“Okay cool! Thanks man.”
When I got home I rushed to my room, the door flies open to reveal Robin sitting at my desk. A pencil is grasped in her hands and she is so focused on her work that she doesn’t even start when I walk in.
“You cut?”
“Yes.” Her focus is solely on the picture she is creating.
“That's what they said killed you.”
“I know”
“Why aliens then?”
She looks up finally, “Because I never cut deep enough to kill me.”
“Can I see?”
“Some of it sure.” Carefully she lifts her pants leg all the way up to show me the red angry lines marching haphazardly up her legs. “It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“Okay.” It’s confusing but she doesn’t seem in pain so I let go. “You liked Dwain?”
“What is it, question the dead girl time?” She is blunt.
“Sorta… sorry I was just curious… It’s more a question about why and what a girl likes in a guy… I figured you would know!” She smiles.
“Totally! Well I like Dwain because he was nice to me and didn’t ostracize me because of my looks and attitude. It’s more a kindness crush, I like him because he was nice to me and that made me happy! Then his friends started teasing him and he left me be… no one wants to be liked by a loner if their popular like that. Why you wanna know what girls like?”
My cheeks heat up like volcanos, “Because I like someone…”
“Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh who do you liiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkeeeee!” She drags it out like a kid would.
“Marina….” “Marina K?”
“Yeah…”
“She’s really pretty, just watch out she’s one of the get them to like you just because girls. Play hard to get.” Robin bounces up and down laughing, “ Roy and Marina sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G! First comes loooove then comes marriage! Then comes Roy with a baby carriage!” Robin pokes me in the side and giggles, “And we both know how you get babies since neither of us were absent from health class.”
“You remember who was in that class?” “Totally, most of the people were too embarrassed to look up, but I’ve been familiar with that stuff for a long time and it was fun watching them all blush and nervously giggle.” Thoughtfully she adds, “well knowing Marina you won't have to wait till marriage for babymaking… just babies.”
“Were your parents doctors of something?”
“Sorta, why?”
“Well you were previously associated with the process of babymaking…”
“My dad’s a gynecologist assistant and my mom is a midwife. They didn't think their daughter should be left in the dark about one of the oldest acts of mankind so they got me a few books.”
“Wow, your parents are crazy…” She shrugs her shoulders.
“Maybe to some people, but to me it’s just how I was raised and I wouldn’t ask for anything else!” A dark cloud seems to form in her visage, “I’m really gonna miss that… Damn! Why did I have to die!” Her shoulders start to shake. “It felt like a dream until now, a dream I could wake up from, but I really am dead… And being dead sucks.”
Damn it, my eyes are burning and my nose is tingling in it’s odd, sharp way. I miss my mom and dad so much, my misunderstood, passive father and my hypersensitive, overexpressing mother. Roy looks concerned but I don’t want to be helped, I want to not think or exist anymore. Roy gasps and runs forward but his hands pass through me and when I look down in morbid curiosity, I cannot see myself at all. Then the world goes black for me.
Am I really dead this time? No… I’m just sleeping. No. Im awake, just everything but my mind has faded. I’m guessing I will die soon, again, but the only regret I have is not being able to tell my mother sorry for our fight and for dying, same to my dad. Damn this is stupid, why can’t it be anyone but me! I would happily go back to my disease ridden, messed up body to fix this. But I can’t, I really can’t, and I was stupid if I ever thought I could. After all this is all my fault.
She’s gone! She vanished, one moment so real, the next gone in a wink of the imagination. Snatched away like death took her again, mind, body, and soul. Like static. The air wavers for a second, then again, she flickers back into existence. I almost rush to hug her before I remember, then I pause. Her eyes look tired, like she left something behind when she reappeared.
The rest of the week pasts like a gray rainstorm, time drags on like a tired packhorse. Slowly and worn down until I felt like a walking corpse of a walking dreamer. The boring days of old seem rose tinged to me now compared to the ominous presence in my home. Robin had vanished again off and on when she felt like it and didn’t want to be seen crying ghostly tears. I looked at the drawing she had made to try to figure out what had happened, was it an omen… or was that just my desperate hopes?
In my dreams we frantically searched for her death among the fractile memories scattered in her mind. We searched massive desert plains with beautiful rose sponged skies on the verge of night as the sun tumbled down the throat of nighttime. We scoured the bottoms of ocean so deep that they crushed everything into itself and no light could reach into the murky waters, once you were immersed the only way you could go was down. But while I searched she stayed quiet, distracted. That is until the fourth tuesday in november.
“Roy!”
“Hgrm….”
“Roy!”
“Rrrrrrrr!”
“Roy RoyRoyRoyRoyRoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“What!!!!!!!!!” I sit upright and to my great horror Robin is chilling at my bedside shaking me awake.
“You sound like an angry twelve year old.”
“What do you want!!!!!!”
“I wanna have an adventure!”
“It’s too early for this…”
“It’s never too early for an adventure!” She chirps. God I want to strangle the dead girl.
“Yes it is!” I roll over and try to ignore her.
“Nope!” Her statement could have been followed by a cheery emojicon it sounded so ridiculous. To make matters worse as soon as my back was turned she put her icy hands through my back.
“S-Stop it!” She wiggles her fingers in front of my face, sometimes she is as solid as a wall other times as thin and vapor.
“I’m dead but I’m still here and I wanna enjoy everything I can!” She pouts then puffs hair off her forehead and to the side.
“Just ten more min.”
“Royyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”
“Shhhhhh!”
“I will haunt you until the day you die.” Her threat rouses me from my slumber, no way in hell do I want her to witness my final moments or in fact the rest of my life.
“Fine, where do you wanna go?” I sigh and ruffle my hair.
“I want to go get closure so that I can move on into death.” This answer comes as a surprise!
“Why?”
“Because earth is hell and I want to go into nothing so I am no longer reminded of what I could have done or had. I don’t want to have to see my parent grieve or my existence slowly vanish until I become lost without worldly possessions and isolated until I become simply mad, I wish to go with peace.”
“Okay.” Though sad I thought it sounded completely reasonable. Being forgotten would be painful. “Where will we go?”
“I think I know, I remembered something when I vanished and I’ve been stuck here for a while, it's vague but I think if you help me we can figure out what happened!” She holds out her hands and I hesitantly grab them. A fuzzy warm vortex sucks us up in a silent vwoosh feeling.
Instead of the fearful nothingness that swallowed me up before I feel a warm calm, like acceptance. I had accepted the lonely knowledge that I had ceased to exist for my mother and father. When I had vanished I had gone to see them, I tried to talk to them but they just sat there at the table, my spot sat empty and a sullen silence engulfed the dinner. That had been the final straw, the piece that told me I was good and truly dead. My stuff had been moved and my clothes had been given to goodwill. Nothing remained of my stone collection, even my beautiful river rock paul was gone. There was no way for me to go back to my old life. No way to fix the problem. I was gone, I just hadn't let go. At first I had cried, I was unfair and horrible. I went back to Roy and sat beside him, he couldn’t see me. Life felt unbearable. Then I had appeared and saw his concern. I wanted to indulge in the feeling of being needed and cared about. But I knew I had to say goodbye to everything. It was painful. But I slowly grew accustomed to the feeling, when it became too much I went back to Roy. Now I just wanted to stop all together. I would like to say I am at peace, but to tell the truth, no, no peace for the walking dead.
So we flew forward propelled by that foggy recollection of a memory of mine. A memory I feel I must both dread and accept as a last piece of the puzzle of my death. I’m to scared to go at this alone so I took Roy with me because despite the extremely short and tumultuous times I have know him he has provided the most comfort to me of any person in my life. It’s not love or attraction of any sort, he has simply been kind and shown me support that I had not found anywhere else. In return I wished to give him closure in my demise so he was not left confused or guilty in any way.
I alight upon the asphalt of a sidewalk beneath a shiny street lamp. Dusk pulls over the hills in ribbons of smoky blue and clear soft purple and hazy clouds. Familiar lights glow from a familiar home. This isn’t the real thing but it feels so achingly like it my resolve almost wavers. Then I see a figure move.
Another Robin is inside that house, she’s in her room with a book clutched in her hands, it looks so small. She sniffs ungracefully and wipes the snot away from her nose, her eyes are red rimmed and her cheeks look raw and blotchy. She sets the book down and pulls the leg of her dragon pants all the way to her hip. Red lines across her hips ooze blood, she seems to inspect the wound before slowly letting the pants drop down. Next to me Robin stands stiffly, frozen as if in a trance. The image Robin seems to float to the bed and sit down. She snuggles down into the blankets, the scene looks peaceful even after the life fades from her skin, if you ignore the widening stain of red across her sheets. The Robin next to me is shaking and looks petrified. All of her natural seeming bravado is gone and all that left is a scared girl stripped of all her worldly possessions.
I have realised, that is not what happened exactly, it feels too neat, too fake. I wouldn’t have given up just like that. That’s not right.
At home again I sit tiredly spinning a basketball on my finger. Around and around it goes like the thoughts in my head. What was that light, why did Robin cut? Didn’t it hurt? Robin sits on my window sill and chews restlessly on her nails. Tiny, shimmery, crescent moon nail shards tumble from her fingers occasionally. Her cute features are twisted into a mask of concentration as she mulls over something. I can tell something didn’t sit right with her. “It was to perfect.”
“What?”
“My death.”
“How so?”
“I am a naturally imperfect person with many flaws and bad traits yet I died like a F***ing princess.” Sadly I think I agree, when I first met Robin I could feel her impatience and her imperfections radiating from her body, I cannot imagine someone with that much irritation could die without a complaint, hypnosis or not. “I may have seen my death but I don’t know what lead up to that. What made me want to lay down and give up?”
“What day was it?” Dread gnaws at my stomach.
“Tuesday… I think.” Oh god. “Yeah tuesday!” It had been the day we had talked.
“Do you remember anything?”
“No. Why?” We lapse into silence.
After a long pause, “Didn’t we talk that day? Barreyman and the bowtie?”
“Y-Yeah!”
“What did I seem like?”
I think back and remember her that day, “happy, chipper, and very very talkative!”
“Desperate”, she murmurs under her breath.
“Huh?”
“Nothing”, She turns away, but not before I catch a fleeting glimpse of her face, pinched with worry, her lower lip disappearing completely into her mouth.
“Cool cool.” I don’t know how to help her so I pick up my game boy and try to not think of her, she slowly vanishes, almost hesitantly.
Now I am back in ghost space, I know my presence near Roy was making him feel uncomfortable, after all it was me who died and invaded his personal space, I at least owed him the courtesy to have a mental breakdown outside of his presence. So I was desperate that day, then that begged the question what triggered this? It was obviously before Home Ec class or I would have been fine that day. What was so bad it had kept me down all day?
“Did you keep a diary?”
“Huh?”
“Did you, keep a, diary!”
“Sorta.” I slowly reappear into normal space. The only thing that can penetrate my ghost space is words I need to hear.
“Why don’t you go and look through it?”
“Well that might be difficult.”
Roy shifts to look at me over his shoulders, “Why?”
“The police confiscated it…”
“Oh okay.”
“Wanna help me get it?”
“Breaking and entering?! Are you kidding me!!! Try and stop me!” In movies the heroes always seemed to have to steal something and there was always a cool getaway scene with a cute chick and a car chase. It sounded like the perfect way to break the seal on my incredibly boring life, not that Robin hadn’t already done that, although her small a-gender cuteness took away from the mystery and just made her seem childish…
“Today? It’s in a back lab of evidence!” Robin looks nervous, I wonder what is up with her, maybe she doesn’t want me to see her diary.
“How should we get in?”
“Okay so-”
Her diary is small and compact and fits almost in my pocket, the little heart shaped lock is cheap and fragile and the keys jangle behind me as I sprint full force towards the parking lot. It took way too much effort to get in and fool the officers in the first place.
“Halt!!! Mr. John!!!!!” Two officers pound down the hall after me belts clanging. They aren’t quite willing to take out their guns yet because of who I said I was. After all they wouldn’t dare shoot Robin’s boyfriend, whom grief stricken stole her diary from the station to hear the last words of his dear departed love.
Dodging arounds a secretary desk out front I hurdle past the surprised desk attendant and out the swinging doors. Alarms blare, triggered most likely by the magnetic strip inside the diary hidden so that thieves would have trouble finding it. Next to me Robin shouts barely comprehensible, “Roy! Keys!” A wad of keys flies at me from the blur of color streaking by and I catch them. The first vehicle in the lot is a blue and white motorcycle. I grasp the handles and swing on starting the engine with the smallest key on the ring. It roars to life and ghostly hands clasp around my waist in a light embrace. I kick off and we are streaking across the road at seventy in no time. It feels like flying and I know that if we ever make it free of this mess I want a bike like this one. Adrenaline rushes like the blood in my ears muffling everything except my heart, my heart beat seems to be the beat of the world as I turn into the curves of the road. Police cars follow with blaring sirens and blinding lights. Robin squeezes my waist and suddenly we vanish from their view like an invisibility cloak was pulled over us. When I am sure we have lost them, confused and bewildered we drop the getaway vehicle at a streambed and trudge through the culvert upstream at least a mile before making our way to a local park. Exhausted I plop onto a swing back in the woods below a large old apple tree and take out the diary. Robin leans over my shoulder and we flip the the entries closer to the last one.
To Delinx Quarte
School still sucks, yeah I know I’ve said that to many times. I see no point to complete it if I feel like this no matter what I try to do with my life. My therapist tells me it's called clinical depression, I hope it goes away before I have to pay the bills. My energy is basically null and void. I guess at least you're there to listen to me.
To Delinx Quarte
Brian has shunned me for the eighth time this week, I guess I get it, I mean I’m the one who told Kristy I liked him and even if she said she wouldn’t tell, its high school. I guess I’m just stupid for thinking someone like him could talk to me after knowing such an ugly truth.
To Delinx Quarte
Roses are red
Violets blue
Im sad af
So F u to
To Delinx Quarte
Thank you for talking to me all the time.
“Talking to you all the time?” I look questioningly at Robin. To answer she picks up the book and shakes it. A small phone falls out, when I pick it up and flip it open it turns on with a whoosh noise. The screen clears and four new messages blink on the screen.
Robin I’m sorry for slashing, you shouldn’t have run, please come back I’ll bring you to a good doctor!
Robin?
Robin are you there?
Answer me goddamn it!!!!!!!!!!
As I flip through her phone the name Delinx Quarte makes sense, horrible sense. This Delinx claimed to be an alien, or he role played one. He told fantastical stories about beautiful worlds far away and amazing adventures, seriously he sounded like an author. One even make sickening sense as the space saucer heading for earth. He called Robin a petite princess and flattered her with praise for her ingenuity. He listened to her stories she told of cruel classmates and lulled her into false trust with pretty words. He even claimed to be a twenty year old lesbian. Robin told him about having no friends, and her lying confidents, and her crush who ignored her. She leaned on him and never questioned his motives besides being good and nice. Then he said he liked her. Told her what an intelligent girl she was, not like those other high school bimbos. He said they should meet and make cosplay for the next con, his place. The address sounded remote. Robin had her license and drove there herself.
Shakily Robin looks at me and in a small voice tells me what happened there, “I got there and it was ramshackled. She- sorry he didn’t wanna meet in the city because he said his anxiety would flare up.. I went to the door and he answered. I was surprised but he convinced me he meant no harm he just wanted me to be comfortable talking to me… Then we went inside, I was scared but I didn’t want to be rude… Then he starts talking all heavily. He’s an older man almost thirty and balding with grease stains on his saggy clothes and he had a ton of anime body pillows all over the place and his top pick in netflix wa my little pony! I didn’t wanna know what was in the corner… I asked him to not sit so close, even said I had a boyfriend now… But he knew too much and got mad at me for lying, he said I owed him for listening to my whining. I cried and he begged my forgiveness… I tried to run but he chased me, he had a knife and threatened me but I didn’t wanna get raped or killed so I ran, he slashed me on the thigh so deeply that my leg went numb in a few minutes. Then I got away and drove home. My parents weren’t home and I tried to dress the wound, my seats are black and I thought it was shallower. I realized it was to the bone and then I fainted from blood loss. I guess I bled to death… So I was killed by my friend who liked to pretend to be an alien and turned out to be a “Nice Guy”... Kinda pathetic.”
“Are you gonna let him get away with murder?”
“No…”
“Go get him girl!”
“What do I do?”
“Hide his porn stash, replace his anime pillows with guy anime pillows. Subscribe him to a yaoi(guy on guy) site where pre adolescent girls write fanfiction, put hot sauce in his lube… hide his wallet, and put password encoded age restrictions on his netflix so he has to watch g rated films forever. And then scrawl in ketchup on his mirror, I am always watching you. Then leave, and he’ll be paranoid forever.”
“You are truly satan Roy.” Robin smiles devilishly.
I never saw her again, she left and I was left to clean up my life. I faced community service for my crimes however the crime was solved with my help and when the police found the man he was sitting in the dark with a circle of salt surrounding him watching my little pony with horrible burns. He was arrested and sent to an asylum by his own convictions. I assume Robin went away peacefully after doing her part, maybe she stayed and saw his arrest however I believe she just left. I attended her funeral, her mother cried, her father left the room a lot. Brian was there, I could tell his consciousness was heavy with the idea he had contributed to someone's death or been able to prevent it but not done that, he was never the same. Her so called friends Kristy and Lillian were there, her therapist, and her extended family that could drive in from california to oregon. When I went up to view the casket I saw her cold face, beautifully made up in professional makeup, honestly it was weird, I missed the face only I knew, her real face and her faded hair all curly. Her cuts were hidden with a long dress and sleeves. After the funeral her mother approached me.
“Roy?”
“Yes..?”
“Okay, funny I’ve never met you, thank you for being such a good friend to my daughter! She left you something… I was almost like she knew she was going away…” Sadly she handed me an envelope with a hastily scrawled name on the front. Robin's mother was pale and mousy, her nervous eyes reminded me of a rabbits, hopping from place to place.
Dear Roy,
Thank you for being the truest friend I’ve ever had, you never lied to me and you helped me when I needed you most! You're my hero. Good luck with Marina, make her chase you… Sorry I can’t be your best man! Thank you! Enclosed is a remembrance gift!
Inside the package was a small drawing of a boy with a roguish expression on his face and a girl laughing openly riding on a motorbike that was blue and white. They seemed suspended in time carfree. I hung it on my wall, to this day I still muse over its detail and how the pencil has not faded yet.
Robin was the best and the worst thing to happen to me. I was labeled a criminal and a hero, I became not normal but am still unsure on how to become normal or not normal. It never worked out with Marina, she was to flakey and flirty. I married a beautiful, smart nerd at the age of thirty and started a family. Life runs smoothly and I wonder how Robin is doing, heaven? Rebirth? Whatever she is doing I hope she is happy as I am.
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itsworn · 7 years
Text
How a mighty 1932 DeLuxe coupe emerged from 1934 Ford parts
We haven’t emptied the pool of worthy project cars but we’ve come damn close to it. And that tug-of-war between supply and demand has practically made Ferraris of old Fords, at least by value anyway.
John Foxley recently finished one of those Ferrari-status Fords, a 1932 deluxe coupe. Not this one, though; another one. “It came with some extra parts,” he says, namely a pair of ’rails, a floor, and bits of a deluxe-coupe cowl and quarter-panels. “No doors or roof. Nothing else. For some reason I was intrigued by this and was determined to make a car out of it.”
Unfortunately John inherited about the worst kind of car to have: a woefully incomplete example of a somewhat uncommon and very popular model (deluxe coupes are right up there with real roadsters in desirability). In other words, a forbiddingly expensive car to make complete. But he has something more valuable than all the Deuce deluxe-coupe parts in the world: An observant brain.
That brain noticed that by a few shapes the Deuce deluxe-coupe kind of predicts the 1933 and 1934, aka the Model 40. “There is a strong 1933 essence already built into the 1932 ford three-window,” he reveals. “What I mean is there are a ton of 1933 styling cues in the 1932 three-window, a preview of what was to come the following year.
“For example, the belt lines on both cars are in the same place,” John continues. “The door length is the same. Even the roof width is almost the same. The front door shape has a very similar sexy curve as the 1933 and 1934.” What’s more, all Model 40s and not just some special model, have those same basic shapes. That meant that he could use parts from the lowliest and cheapest one: a Fordor.
John bought a bunch of cast-off Model 40 sedan parts. He grafted the front doorjambs to the remnants of the Deuce cowl. Then he extended four-door doors to fit the new opening and rounded the back corner to resemble a coupe door.
The Model 40 doors differ from Deuce doors in one critical way: they’re 1-1/2 inches taller from the beltline to the bottom. Rather than sectioning them to match the Deuce doors, John let them hang. Which makes them overlap the frame. Which makes the car appear as if it’s channeled. If you don’t believe us go take a second look. The rockers are Model 40 deluxe coupe and he extended the rear quarters downward with more Model 40 tin. The result is a channeled look that preserves the interior space.
Of course all that room he saved plus more went away once the top went on. The top panel came from a Model 40 standard coupe but it goes only to the B-pillar. He fabricated the rear crown from Model 40 Tudor parts. When all was said and done the new roof met the car some 5-1/2 inches lower in the front and 5 inches lower in the back.
The frame is largely responsible for the car’s personality, at least the part of personality dictated by profile. John stretched it 2 inches to counter the body’s greater mass. To make the nose sit low, he built the chassis with a flat crossmember from Pinkee’s Rod Shop. To make the nose sit extra low, he pie-cut the ’rails just ahead of the cowl in order to raise the front crossmember 4 inches.
He built the front suspension with a Super Bell dropped axle, a set of Lucky 7’s slotted wishbones, and, in that last-ditch bid for low stance, a Durant mono-leaf spring. It has a Vega cross-steer setup, 1941 Lincoln-style backing plates, and 45-fin Buick alloy drums. The rear consists of a first-gen Mustang 8-inch rear axle mounted by SO-CAL Speed Shop ladder bars and spring. The chassis sports a set of 16×4 and 16×6 Wheel Vintiques Gennie wheels with 1946 mercury caps and Coker/Firestone 5.00/5.25-16s and 7.50-16s.
The axle spins a locking gear carrier with a 2.98:1 gear. The reason for the tall screw: a non-overdrive GM TH350 transmission. It came as part of a low-mileage drivetrain package with a 1971 Chevrolet 300-horse 350. John left the inside alone but dolled it up with an Edelbrock six-pot manifold with six Holley 94s. They wear Eelco linkage and Vintage Speed air filters. We still roll our eyes a bit whenever we see engines dolled up as other engines, but thanks to the Speedway ram’s horn manifolds one has to look twice to know this one isn’t a Cadillac. Carline Mufflers in Maple Ridge did the 2-inch pipes and MagnaFlow mufflers.
John based the interior on a set of Rotten Leonard’s bomber-style seats. He made the panels and hired George and Brad at Pacific Auto Trim in Vancouver to trim it all plus make a headliner. They used leather originally specified for some Maserati job. Stewart Warner gauges in a SO-CAL Speed Shop insert mount in the Model 40 dash; a LimeWorks column bolts under it. The Googie-era tiller mounted to it came from a 1959 Milo Craft Valkyrie boat. Rather than find and modify window regulators, John used electric ones from Specialty Power Windows.
With the fabrication done John prepped the body for Robin Crouch at Albert Aiello’s Still Creek Collision Shop in Burnaby. Robin shot it with Sikkens’ Autowave waterborne system. John stepped back in to lay out the Candy Apple panel graphics, including the lace inserts. “We call it the Rad Rose,” John says. “My kids named it; one wanted Rad Apple for the color and the other wanted Red Rose because of the lace. So we made it fair both and voilà, everybody’s happy.”
Naturally we’re ignoring a fair bit of work but the installation of 5.00/5.25- and 7.50-16s on 16×4 and 16×6 Wheel Vintiques Gennies finished the project. John debuted the car at the 2016 Northwest Deuce Days, landing a photo of his car on page one of the local newspaper.
The definition of a hot rod differs from person to person but consistent among those interpretations is this notion of a car as an affordable means to an expensive end. Decades ago, for example, the hot rod was the antidote to the rich kid’s new Lincoln, a way for an enthusiast low on bucks and high on pluck to level the playing field on the streets.
Those days are long gone; you can buy several new Lincolns for the price of some Deuce deluxe coupes done up as hot rods. But in the sense that someone with pluck can still build something otherwise unobtainable, that spirit is as strong as ever.
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