#again. i need to emphasize---it never comes across as creepy just really cute and tender
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Tagged by @secretwriterstudentjaune
1) Three non-romantic duos: Hmmm...brotps I adore would be Jack and Daniel (SG-1), Sam and Daniel (SG-1), and Lune and Matsen (Jade Torch -- is it cheating to use my own book??? xD) If that's cheating, then Sam and Frodo (LotR).
2) A ship that might surprise others: I kinda ship Link x Mipha from BOTW. I like Zelda x Link too, but something about Link x Mipha is just so sweet and tragic. I like that they knew each other for a lot longer than Zelda and Link knew each other.
Let's be real. I don't have a lot of crazy ships. Although, in SG-1, I do ship Vala x Tomin (but I also like Vala x Daniel).
3) Last Song: Shackleton by Adam Young
4) Last Film: My parents and I watched Hitched for the Holidays last night. Very funny romcom with Joey Lawrence. It's a Hallmark movie from 2012, so just before they all got so unbelievably cookie cutter/copy+paste with their plots.
5) Currently reading: Operation Grendel by Daniel Schwabauer
6) Currently watching: The X-Files. I'm nearing the end of season 1. I've never seen it before, and I'm loving it!
7) Currently consuming: Coffee
8) currently craving: idk. I don't have a strong craving for anything right now.
Tagging @aceofstars16 @quiescentdragon @ryeillustrates @accidental-spice @jenniferbrincho (if any of y'all have already done it or already been tagged, my bad--my memory stinks đ
)
#i am in a massive stargate phase right now#i almost put john and rodney as the third brotp but i wanted to include something non stargate#and seriously. i am enjoying the x-files SO MUCH!!!!!!!!#the alien episodes are my favorite and i wish there were more of those and fewer of the ghost/spirit ones#but oh well#and can i say? mulder and scully's dynamic is perfection#not just how they trust each other or tease each other but how they physically behave with one another#the acting choices seem very deliberate#mulder wears his heart on his sleeve and i am living for that#and he's big on touch. not in a creepy way at all#but he's constantly putting his hand on her shoulder or gently placing his hand on her back to steer her#so much of it is 100% unnecessary for the scene so it feels like very deliberate acting choice regarding the character#and it doesn't phase scully a bit#even in the first few episodes when they've only known each other a few months or less she has no issue with how familiar mulder acts#again. i need to emphasize---it never comes across as creepy just really cute and tender#i really really like how she is SO TINY compared to him and i think his physicality and protectiveness is emphasized by that#but at the same time he knows she's fully capable#he seems protective of her but not in a demeaning way. not overprotective. just lots of chivalry and honor#that's something that seems totally lost in media today: men who want to protect women just because that's what they should be doing#and women who let them#too many women get bent out of shape when men try to be gentlemen#women have tried to wipe out chivalry and then they turn around and complain about toxic masculinity đ#but mulder is a wonderful gentleman and i love watching him and scully#tagged#sorry for going off in the tags but i've been wanting to rave about this stuff for a few days now xD
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Sugar-Coated Everything
Rating: General AudiencesÂ
Warnings: None
Relationships: Qrow/Ozpin
Series: RWBY Rare Pair Week ( @rwbyrarepairweek ).Â
Prompt: Free Day so that means BAKERY AU HELL YEAHÂ
Summary:Â How absurd, that Glynda would suggest Ozpin is lonely, of all things. What does a man need except good work, good books, and...
...and Qrow Branwen, apparently. Â Â
***
Ozpin paused in the act of icing his cookies, looking up at Glynda with a thoroughly amused expression. After a moment he simply gestured to the work still laid out for him to do: icing cakes, dough to bake, bread currently rising, the photo albums heâd been meaning to update. Glynda rolled her eyes. It was a very old argument.
âYou should try,â she emphasized, picking at a bit of cookie dough with distaste. âHonestly, Oz, spending dusk âtill dawn in this place isnât healthy. Who do you talk to other than your customers? And me?â
âDo I need someone other than you?â
âOh please. Flattery hasnât worked since college. Try again.â
Truthfully, Ozpin wasnât sure flattery had worked on Glyn back in college either, but he bowed his head in assent. Transferring the cookies to a clean sheet he licked stray icing off his fingers, thinking over her comment.
âThereâs James,â Ozpin said.
âYou donât talk to James, you two bicker. That hardly counts. Again, please.â
Ozpin chuckled. âWhat is this, an interrogation? Glynda, you seem to be under the mistaken impression that Iâm unhappy and that couldnât be farther from the truth. I have you, Jamesâdespite your protestsâmy books, and my shop.â Ozpin laid a hand fondly over his counter, picking up flour and enjoying the feel of it between his fingers. âThere are men out there far less fortunate than I.â
The morning rush would be starting soon. Ozpin had perfected his timing over the years, but that only held up if he wasnât distracted by well-meaning friends. It was with a pointed look that Ozpin brushed by Glynda, rolling up balls of dough with a serene smile. Â
âYouâre impossible,â Glynda muttered. âWorse than the kids.â
âThatâs right. Shouldnât you be heading off to teach them?â
Glynda glared, but it melted away when facing that smile. She sighed, smoothing her pencil skirt and picked up her bag. On her way out of the kitchen Glynda laid a hand on Ozpinâs shoulder, squeezing gently.
âIâm not worried that youâre unhappy,â she said. âIâm just worried that youâre lonely.â
Ozpin leaned into her touch but otherwise kept quiet. He wasnât sure how to respond to that.
***
Beacon was a small, rustic bakery a mere three blocks from Atlas University where Glynda taughtâa closeness that often benefited and frustrated them in equal measure. Ozpin had thought long and hard about following her there, the chance to shape young minds an alluring possibility, until Ozpin realized that education came in many forms. When asked about his bakeryâs name, he told people honestly that good food was like a beacon of light in an otherwise dark world. He felt that he could help others with a good cookie or slice of bread, often in ways they didnât immediately understand.
The students thought he was crazy. As did most of the professors. Ozpin didnât mind.
Especially when his work so rarely felt like work. This was normally his favorite part of the day, when students running late rushed in for bagels or donuts, parents and 9-to-5âers following at their heels for a good cup of coffee. Ozpin enjoyed the rush and the early morning complaints, made slightly better by his food. Today though, Glyndaâs comment refused to leave him alone. Each interaction was enjoyable⌠but simplistic. Hollow. Ozpin passed a bag of donut holes across his counter and for the first time had to muster up his smile.
âAbsurd,â he muttered when the rush died down. âThis will pass, as all things do.â The tiny bell over his door rang and Ozpin turned, determined to reclaim his normal, upbeat spirit. He smiled a true smile.
And it immediately faded.
The man whoâd just walked through his door was new to Ozpinâmust be new to the neighborhood because it wasnât in arrogance that he claimed everyone visited his shop at one time or another, and Ozpin never forgot a face. He certainly wouldnât have forgotten his: lean and handsome with a 5 oâclock shadow, experience etched into every line of his cheeks while a veil of tenderness still lay behind his eyes. Ozpinâs smile faded because he found himself frozen, stunned in a way that hadnât happened in years. He wiped suddenly sweating palms down the front of his apron.
âHello,â Ozpin said and immediately winced at how his voice cracked. âAh, apologies. Iâve⌠a bit of a cold. Nothing that contaminates the wares though, I assure you. Itâs all perfectly safe.â Ozpin shut his eyes briefly at the sound of his own rambling. âYes. Well. How can I help you?â
âŚhe shouldnât have asked such an open question. Oh dear.
Luckily, if the man noticed his ridiculous floundering he didnât comment on it. In fact, Ozpin would be surprised if this man noticed any proverbial elephant in the room. He looked exhausted beyond belief, one hand scrubbing at his face while the other fished crumpled bills out of his pocket. The man dragged himself forward and tossed them onto the counter.
âI need a birth cake,â he said, voice raspy. He leaned one elbow down and nestled his chin in the crook of his hand. He smiled tiredly.
Ozpin, meanwhile, tried valiantly to get his heart-rate under control. âOf course. I have a number of birthday cake options. Youâre free to browse my portfolioââ
âNo, no, no,â the guy waved his hand. âI need a birth cake. Like, take whatever cheap-ass, three-day old shit youâve got laying around and write BIRTH on it all sloppily.â He paused. âNot that your shit is shit. The birthday boy just doesnât need anything extravagant. Donât exert yourself.â
Ozpin stood, torn between amusement and slight horror. For the first time he realized that this man wasnât just exhausted, but thoroughly hung over. As a rule Ozpin had very little tolerance for the drunk and this realization should have displeased him⌠yet he felt only a strange rush of fondness. Like heâd just found a disgustingly bedraggled kitten. Stupid, but cute.
âJust a moment,â he said.
Three-day old shit? Honestly. As if Ozpin had ever sold anything that wasnât fresh and wonderful. (Okay, so there was his failed scones experiment, but he hadnât sold those, just given them away to exceedingly wary customers.) He did, however, have options on the simpler side. Ozpin took a small cake out from the display case, already covered in his favorite, green fondant. As he set about finding a decent piping bag he took a detour into his kitchen, filling up a clean glass of water for his customer. The guy twitched a little, clearly surprised by the gesture, but he took the water greedily, downing nearly all of it in a single gulp.
From there on out it was easy. Ozpin was a fan of all holidays, including Halloween, and it was a simple matter to pipe BIRTH is creepy, jagged lettering. When he was done he turned the cake around and the man immediately started laughing.
âFucking perfect,â he said, slapping his thigh. âThatâs what Iâm talking about. Shit, I like youâŚâ
Ozpin bit his lip hard so as not to blurt how happy he was to hear that. âMight I inquire as to who this unique cake is for?â
âBeloved brother-in-law.â
ââŚah.â
âHey, this cover it?â
Ozpin looked to the mess of bills still strewn on his counter. They were numerous and all twenties.
âThis is actually too muchââ
âEh, keep it. Iâm in a generous mood. Not too steady on my feet though, huh?â The man shrugged ruefully. Indeed, he was now swaying a bit and appeared a little green around the gills. âLook, Iâve got kids whoâll pick this up later, alright? You just⌠just enjoy your day now, MrâŚâ
âOzpin,â he said, giving into a laugh of his own. âAnd you are?â
âQrow Branwen. Nice to meet chaâ.â
âLikewise. Do go get some rest, Qrow.â
âBrilliant fucking plan.â Qrow waved vaguely in Ozpinâs direction before wandering out the door, that little bell causing him to flinch this time in pain. Honestly, Ozpin half wondered if Qrow would remember this encounter at all. He certainly hoped so.
âOnly because he needs his cake,â Ozpin murmured and for a while reveled in that lie.
***
His lunch rush hit two hours later. The little girl came in an hour after that.
âHello?â she said, poking only her head through the door, like she was exploring some dangerous place and not a well-lit bakery. When her gaze finally settled on the counter Ozpin gave a little wave.
âHello,â he echoed. âYou wouldnât by any chance be one of Qrowâs âkidsâ now would you?â
It was the difference between night and day. The girlâs face lit up and she scrambled inside. Ozpin barely saw her move before she was halfway up the counter, pushing back a red hoodie and bouncing on her toes.
âHeâs my uncle!â she chirped. âIâm supposed to pick up a cake for my dad because todayâs his birthday and Uncle Qrow was going to do it, but he got kinda drunk last night and thatâs not his fault, not really, because RavenâYangâs mom, not mineâsaid sheâd visit Dad but then backed out and she and Uncle Qrow got into this biiiiig fight, so heâs sleeping now and I can totally carry the cake back all by myself.â
It must have been something that ran in the family. Whereas normally Ozpin would have been irritated by the English-mangling ramble, with this little one he found it only endearing. She couldnât have been any older than ten, filled with happy energy and ready to prove her worth. Ozpin leaned down on the counter so he was nearer to her eye level.
âWhatâs your name?â he asked kindly.
âRuby. Ruby Rose. And my sister is Yang and my dad is Tai. Youâre Ozpin, right? Uncle Qrow remembered that much.â
A thrill ran through him, but Ozpin pushed it back down.
âHow comeâŚâ Ruby hesitated, thinking over the question. âHow come youâve got such white hair?â
âI am very, very old.â
She giggled. âNo youâre not. You look young!â
âWell then isnât that just my luck. Do you know how I stay so young?â he leaned in, as if imparting a great secret.
Rubyâs eyes grew appropriately wide. âHow?â
âThese,â and Ozpin tapped a display caseâa whole mound of chocolate chip cookies. Ruby looked as if heâd just confirmed something that she, along with all children, knew instinctually, and wasnât that just grand? âWould you like a free sample, Ruby?â
Ozpin didnât have free samples, but that didnât stop him from giving Ruby a triple chocolate chip cookie when she nodded. He really hadnât been joking. Joy like that was how anyone stayed young.
While Ruby enjoyed her snack Ozpin pulled out the cake, watching as she sprayed crumbs down the front of her shirt in laughter. After only a second though Ruby became somber, looking now at the lettering with a calculating air.
âCan you write other stuff?â she asked, sneakers squeaking on his tiled floor.
âOf course. Anything you wish.â
âIâve only got this much though,â Ruby said, pulling out a few one-dollar bills and a depleted packet of gum. Lucky for her, Ozpin had always been rather fond of Tutti Frutti.
Thatâs how Ruby left his shop with three things: her fatherâs cake (little tyke was stronger than she looked), a bag of iced sugar cookies that spelled out âZWEI BROKE THE REMOTE NOT ME,â and a message to Qrow from Ozpin.
Please come again.
He really was a blessed man. Qrow came back the very next day.
***
âI need a cake!â he announced shouting it loud enough that poor Ms. Peach nearly dropped her loaf of bread. Ozpin steadied her and sent a glare up at Qrow.
âVery well, but you will wait your turn, Mr. Branwen.â
Qrow only grinned. âIs that your âIâm in troubleâ voice? Not bad, I gotta say. Alright. Thatâs fine. Look at me patiently waiting,â and he leaned against the doorjamb in a pose so exaggerated Ozpin nearly broke.
He had to look to Ms. Peach to ground himself. âMy apologies. Here, let me help youâŚâ
Despite his supposed focus on what had long been a valued customer, Ozpin couldnât help but sneak numerous glances up at Qrow. The change was staggering. Whereas yesterday he had been disorientated, listless, today he was just overflowing with energyâand Ozpin could easily see where young Ruby had learned it all from. More than that though, Qrow looked better, as if such a thing were even possible. He had healthy color in his cheeks and a lightness to his step. The simple jeans and t-shirt he wore were a huge step up to yesterdayâs wrinkled clothing.
And now he was flirty too. Ozpin swallowed around a very dry throat.
âA cake,â he said when Peach had finally left. âOdd. Donât tell me thereâs another birthday so soon?â
Qrow snorted. âNah, but needing another is entirely your fault. Dinky think you sold me is kinda small for four people and Ruby has been going on and on about how great your stuff isâŚâ Qrow dropped him a wink and Ozpin didnât know whether that meant he should be proud of gaining Rubyâs approval, or if such approval was just an excuse.
An excuse for what?
âHmm,â Qrow hooked one hand on the counter and swung himself down into a crouch. He pointedâseemingly randomlyâat a pink cake with flowers in the corner. âHow about that one?â
Ozpin could see Qrow through his display case, all manner of sweets superimposed over his form. He shook himself out of a daze.
âOf course, of course. Did you want anything written on this one?â
âA five.â
He stopped in the act of drawing out the cake. Ozpin blinked. âI beg your pardon?â
âI need a five on it.â Qrow mimed drawing a massive five in the air. His grin said he was teasing⌠but Ozpin was clearly missing the joke. âNothing fancy, just elementary school level stuff.â
âDoes your entire family enjoy such strange confectionery preferences?â
âHa! Wait until Yang gets in here.â
Ozpin didnât have to wait long. Just two days after he gave Qrow a cake with a five on it (âAre you sure this is what you want?â) the most intimidating twelve-year-old Ozpin had ever met blew into his shop. Literally. She charged her bike right through the front door, bringing with her a gust of wind that scattered Ozpinâs flyers and all his loose cupcake liners. When she got that mane of blonde hair out of her face Ozpin met Yang Xiao Long, the perfect kind of firecracker to round-out this odd trio.
She pointed finger guns at Ozpin and demanded a cake with a six. Not a nine, six. Make sure you put a line underneath so we know which way is up.
âAre you playing some sort of prank on your poor father?â Ozpin asked. He was at a loss as to what else these cakes could be for.
The smile Yang gave him was a little scary. âPlease. Dad knows when weâre playing a prank.â
Oh dear.
It went on like this, Ruby or Yang or Qrow (preferably) coming in every few days, asking for a cake with some random number on the top. Three times they asked only for strips, a single line down the middle of their chosen cake. Eight more times he sold to them and each time Ozpin felt simultaneously left out of and a part of something intimate. He faithfully learned the intricate handshake that Yang taught him. He put up the drawing of Zwei that Ruby gifted him. He tried valiantly to give Qrow his phone number.
âI am a coward,â Ozpin told his donuts and their glazed goodness judged him appropriately.
âWhat was that?â Qrow asked and Ozpin shook his head. He was over by the cookies again, picking out a selection for Ruby, and no teasing would ever convince Qrow that he was spoiling that girl. Not that Ozpin was much better. Over the course of three weeks heâd experimented with tart flavors for Yang and built new cookie-cutters to create the monsters from Rubyâs imagination. They were both, in a word, whipped.
Qrow wandered back over, dropping the bag of cookies between them. Ozpin waited for the cake order. It didnât come.
âIs that all?â he asked, ringing up the cookies. Odd, but he was rather disappointed.
Qrow didnât answer at first. He took his time going through his wallet. âYou take pictures of all this stuff, right?â
âWhyâŚ? Yes. Yes, I do. For my portfolio.â Ozpin gestured to the ever-present binder by the register. âPeople like to see what Iâve done in the past before committing to a more expensive cake. Or they can browse to get ideas.â
âYeah. Makes sense. You even take pics of our shitty numbered stuff?â
Ozpin smiled. âYes. Even your âshitty numbered stuff.ââ
âAlright.â For the first time since heâd known him, Qrow appeared a little out of his depth. Nervous, even. âDo me a favor then, Oz. Go back and put all those pics together. Chronologically. Then you can decide.â
âDecide?â
Qrow was already halfway out the door. He raised a hand in farewell. âYep. Your decision, Oz.â
Fascinating.
Ozpin closed shop early that day, for the first time in nearly two years. It was the work of only a few minutes to lay out all the photos⌠and when he did Ozpin very much wanted to hit himself.
It was a phone number. Three dashes, ten numbers. He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep a giddy laugh contained. He might be alone, but how embarrassing.
Instead Ozpin stared hard at all the photos, drinking them in and enjoying the little shivers they sent down his spine. When he felt like he could move again Ozpin took another pic of the whole thing, sending it off to Glynda. Her understandably confused response came quick.
What the hell am I looking at?
Ozpin tilted his head back and smiled at the ceiling.
The answer to your worry, Glyn.
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