Posts tagged completelysane.
Doctor Who’s 50th was disappointing to me. Spoilers! And also a lot of sarcastic tildes.
A lot of this reinforces the reasons why I don’t watch Who any more. It seems like the same ideas are used over and over again (serious question, with full understanding that the answer may be “it’s complicated”: what is the difference between River’s story and Clara’s story?)
The other problem I have from everything that I hear is that the world’s rules aren’t consistent. The appearance of those paradox monsters may be the most grievous instance of that that I haven’t heard people talk about before. I just feel like the writers are pulling things out of a hat, and until the rules are satisfying and the answers to questions make sense and are actual world-building answers instead of just being tricks and wordplay (The Question), I’m not really interested. Nor am I into it enough to consider myself a hater or whatever. I’m just bored by all the smoke and mirrors.
Well, see, both River and Clara are puzzles for the Doctor to solve. Anyway, slightly bitter storytelling and more sarcastic tildes under the cut.
completelysane asked: For Wash/CT during season nine: "So if you're lonely, you know I'm here waiting for you I'm just a cross-hair, I'm just a shot away from you"
"Ah, yes, the killers," York announced with a grin as Wyoming, Wash, and CT piled in from their mission. He welcomed them with a mock bow and a grand gesture to the prime seating on the couch.
"Not killers," CT said reflexively, but it was Wash who finished it. "The Avengers."
Wyoming shrugged. “I have no problem with being described by our skills. Sharp shooting, Wash. You should carry the sniper rifle more often.”
"Yeah," CT said, and Wash could swear he heard her blushing. "Thanks."
And in that moment I swear we were 444444444444444444
RvB: Graduation (Happy Birthday, Nem!)
He held her hand softly, fingers interlaced. “What’s your favourite graduation?” he whispered, keeping this tradition of small, harmless, personal questions in the dark. She was always herself when no one could see her.
"What do you mean?" she said, genuine.
"Mine was fifth grade." He turned and gestured out into the room, even if it was so dark he knew she couldn’t see. "We all got tiny caps and gowns like we were graduating high school, but it only took ten minutes because you can’t make nine year olds sit still for much longer. We got a giant piece of paper and then threw our hats at each other. My parents bought me ice cream." He squeezed her hand a little before adding, explaining, "my mother had passed away by my high school graduation. It was so much longer, too. More stuffy."
She raised their hands and kissed the back of his. Compassion. Another thing she was so good at, in the dark. “Last time my parents were together was in Kindergarten.” She gave it more thought, and Wash heard her lick her lips. “I think my favourite is college. It was long. Neither of my parents came. I didn’t get ice cream,” she added, with a smile. “But I did it. Without any help, I did it.”
They lay there in silence for a while, her thumb making circles over his. “Did you join right after?” he said.
"Yep," Connie nodded, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I’d just graduated college. I thought I could do anything."
"You can," he said, without thought. Without hesitation. She squeezed his hand.
"Sometimes, I think so too." She rolled over, closer to him, and he smiled as she fell asleep, slowly, into his arms.
RvB Prompt: Whispers
Prompt from Nem: You’re one of my secrets, too. Wash/CT
She always thought he spoke in little private bursts, moments he makes his own as he leans into her ear. She used to accuse him of stealing them, but the more she got to know him, the more she realized that stealing anything was far too dishonest for him. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But she knew how she felt when he would lean over during lunch and mutter something only for her ears, and stolen or not, it was private. It was intimate. It was just like him.
He always thought she was telling him a secret. The way she smiled when he starined to hear, and the small laugh she always had when he asked her to repeat something. Sometimes she slipped him notes, and he thought he was in some kind of spy movie, and the paper would self-destruct after he read it. The more he got to know her, the more she seemed like a secret herself, from her words to her laugh to her smile to the way she held his hand. No one had ever trusted him with a secret before.
completelysane asked: For Wash/CT: "But I will not chase your shadow as you go from room to room/dropping handkerchiefs and daggers, smoking guns and other clues"
CT never thought herself hard to find, not for someone who had all of the Freelancer network at their disposal. Sure, the Insurrectionists had done their best hiding her behind a new voice and a new signal and, for good measure, in the middle of a desert, but she knew better than to think the Director didn’t know about it. She still spent those first few months waiting for someone, someone very specific, to do just a little digging and follow the smoking trail of self destruction that she left in her wake.
completelysane asked: Jsyk I was watching Paperman today, and wanted to tell you that the woman in that always reminded me of you. Not necessarily in the shape of her hair or face but in how pretty and lively and curious she is. I, um, that is all.
This is easily one of my favourite compliments ever. <3 Tumblr hid message notifications for me, so I just now saw it, but man. Thank you. <3
completelysane asked: "There’s no one to talk to/All I can think/Is your eyes are full of train smoke/And your mouth tastes like rain/And I know when I know nothing/I will always know your name" Wash/CT, maybe AU where she stays during the time he's implanted.
For the longest time since meeting him, she refused to call him anything other than Wash. Washington was never even an option. She remembered when he introduced himself and said “David”, our of habit. His cheeks turned red and he immediately tried to correct it, saying he wasn’t used to code names. She cut him off and said her name was Connie, and he thought she’d also confessed her real name for an entire month. York had come up to her later and said his name was Wash, when she asked what it was short for, York laughed. She looked it up in on a map later.
"David," she would say as she sat next to his hospital bed, her hand tentatively next to his but never touching. It always calmed him down. It took her a few days to realize she should try it. She’d been saying "Wash" with no effect.
She only had another few days left. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet.
She kept going back and forth on her goodbye. If he was still unconscious, it might be easier. She thought about taking his hand. Maybe kissing him. Would she kiss David? Would she even kiss Wash at this point?
He moved again, and whimpered. She leaned close and whispered that everything was going to be alright.
That she was here for him.
Here for you,
From Nem: And Sarge/Tex, with him trying to convince her to join Red Team. Yes.
"You want to be on the winning team," Sarge said. It had always convinced him. He wanted to be a winner, and be on the winning team, so obvious that was Red Team. Because he was a winner, and he was a Red.
Tex laughed at him. “Any team I’m on is the winning team.”
"Exactly! Glad we’re in agreement!" He looked her over as she stood there, confused. "Your armor isn’t really red, but we let Grif stay here and he’s orange, so we can make an exception."
"I thought he was more yellow," Tex corrected. "Anyway, I’m a freelancer. I’m not on anyone’s team but my own."
"Exactly!" he said triumphantly, and Tex was starting to consider leaving the conversation. "And your own team should be the best team around! Which is my team. Red Team. You should join us."
"We win more than 70% of our battles, unless you ask Lopez, but I think his wiring is a little funny. He keeps saying 33%, and we all know that can’t be right."
"I’m going to go back to Blue Base now."
"Well, think about it," he yelled after her. "It’s a limited time offer!" It always seemed like deadlines were what motivated people. They always motivated him. He nodded in self-satisfaction. She’d be back this afternoon to take him up on it, for sure.
The Kind You Want to Tell
From Nem: I also request Wash telling Internals that someone besides CT was the traitor.
It would be a really simple lie. He knew how to be dishonest. Like when his mother made meatloaf and he told her it was his favourite food. It was basically the same thing, wasn’t it? When he met with a bunch of high school girls from a different district and he awkwardly told them he was two years older, eighteen, almost graduated. Or when he fed his peas to the dog for half a year straight and got congratulated by his mom, then yelled at by his dad when he got caught. Or how he tells North that he likes Captain America better even though Superman is clearly the superior superhero.
It was just like a white lie. Well, maybe slightly grayish.
"I think you should take a closer look at Wyoming," he said in one controlled breath. There. It wasn’t that bad.
It was just like telling Connie that he didn’t mean it when he said “I love you.”
Y’all Come Back Now
Text prompt from Nem: “he’s a cowboy lost in a long steel hall, see how he can run.”
They had told him time and time again that he didn’t need the accent in order to be a cowboy. They weren’t even sure what accent he was trying to do, because at eight years old, all David knew was that he didn’t want to be an Indian. Their names were cooler, but cowboys got to wear boots. He liked his boots. He had attached cardboard spurs to them for authenticity.
He’d think about that classic game with the neighborhood kids in the program a lot. Happy memories were hard to come by towards the end. He’d remember how much he struggled to sound like he was from Texas and hung out in a smoky, musty saloon. He remember how he’d always elongate the wrong vowel for the accent he was going for.
He remember it when the Director spoke. It got harder and harder to listen to him, towards the end.
completelysane asked: Prompt: "I will love you as a dagger loves a certain person’s back, and as a certain person loves to wear dagger proof tunics..." ~Lemony Snicket. Wash/CT, Sandtrap.
"It’s like you don’t trust me," she murmured with a small grin, that half joking manner that they were finally coming back to. He scoffed, the sound harsh in her ear piece, and walked past her pointedly as she was loading up her gun, exposing belly, back, unarmed, unfisted hands. "I’m not so sure you should, anyway," she added, and took aim before he had time to turn.
completelysane asked: 15 for Wash/CT and 1 for Supernatural (any character/pairing is fine but Sam is my fave!)
15. kissing to save the day
"So, you remember that Firefly episode, The Train Job?" Wash asked a bit nervously. Connie glared at him.
"I can’t believe you’re going to get us arrested, Wash," she repeated. "This is not how I wanted to spend my mandatory vacation."
"I’d argue that York and North are going to get us arrested, by running away faster than us. And then picking that lock at the end of the alley." He noticed her still glaring at him and decided to backpedal a bit. "But anyway, the episode, right?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Good. Think of that as context," he said and slammed her against the alley wall, kissing her just as five police officers, two squad cars, and one helicopter ran past the entrance to the small abandoned street. One of the officers paused to look at their silhouette, let out a small chuckle, and kept going.
"Uh, guys?" York appeared a bit later, maybe a minute, maybe ten. "They’re gone. You can stop now."
Wash immediately backed off of Connie, his cheeks slowly reddening. She looked at him, licking her lips thoughtfully, and said “The Train Job, huh?”
"It was inspiration," he replied sheepishly.
North clapped him on the back, still drunk, and loudly declared “I can’t even believe that worked. Or that she kissed you. I really can’t believe she kissed you.” The other three shushed him hurriedly.
"Alright kids," York said, "time to get out of here, but do it calmly. They always chase a running man."
"You were going to be an astronaut?" Dean said one day, driving the impala down the road at predictably unsafe speeds.
"Yeah," Sam said, a bit quietly. "I mean, before you came and got me-"
"I thought you were going to be a lawyer." He picked up a leftover bag of chip crumbs from three days ago and emptied it into his mouth, blocking his vision of the road ahead with perfect accuracy.
"I did too, but, you know, once I got there-"
"-space? Dude, you were in space?”
Sam’s mouth twitched softly at his brother’s disbelief, somewhere between a smile and a frown. “Forget it. We hunt demons now.”
"If this doesn’t work out, Sammy, we’re gonna take you, me, and dad as soon as we find him, and you’re going to fly our asses to a demon-free moon."
"Yeah," Sam resigned, looking out the window now. "Sounds like a plan."
the-red-sheep asked: I kind of fell in love with the character of CT a few months ago, and with you popping up on my dash more and more often, I just had a look, to see what fics you had written for her. Needless to say, I'm actually, legitimately crying. asdfghjkl Do you realize what you've done. I'm legitimately sobbing right now. I don't know if I ought to love you or hate you >.>
Oh, gosh, thank you :) I guess? I think that’s a pretty fair and common reaction to writers for this fandom, especially for CT. (Lookin’ at you, Nem.)
Yeah, I love her character. I love her character so much that I actively try and make sure she never has a completely happy ending. I mean. That’s how love works, right? I’m a bit hazy on the concept.
Also, I think I’ve written one or two happy things with her in it. Possibly even three. Probably just ridiculous fics of her and Wash flirting before they knew any better. That’s pretty much the only time I think of her as happy…