#so yeah again don't worry. got plenty of stories and headcanons and everything left to share
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I'm really sorry for asking, I hope this isn't an intrusive question. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I've noticed you've toned down your burningcheese posts. Are you taking a break? I hope this ask doesn't come around as being demanding or intrusive. I just really miss seeing burningcheese since there's hardly anything on the tags anymore from what I've noticed. If you are taking a break, please don't feel pressured to answer this post. You deserve a break after everything that's happened
Have I? Doesn't really seem like that to me... But I guess I don't know? Feels like I've been posting and reblogging stuff about them like usual. I guess not? I've been posting a lot about the fankids recently, is that it? Those don't count as burningcheese posts? Haha
But yeah uh I'm sorry if I've given that impression. This ship is still infecting my brain all day every day dont worry haha. I guess i just. I haven't been doing well recently. Nothing to do with internet drama or anything I don't care about that. I've been facing a lot of genuine hardship irl. and i guess it's starting to show on here? Maybe? I'm not really sure. In any case i do apologize if it seems like I'm losing interest or anything like that. Promise I'm not. I'm always thinking about them lol they're a plague. They're a curse. Devsisters owes me reparations at this point. Or rent money for the space in my brain they've been squatting in. Tenant's rights don't exist in my mindscape, they're in big trouble
#I'll be honest an actual break may or may not be coming soon depending on how things go irl#i don't really want to talk about it but. things are bad. really bad#but i have a history of mentally/emotionally running away from my problems haha#which usually involves losing myself in writing or drawing. or video games. or whatever idk#something to help me pretend I'm not alive for a while#got a big backlog of burningcheese stories to write so maybe I'll end up doing those just to cope haha#no matter what burningcheese is my ride or die dont you worry about that#i appreciate your concern. i really do. it's over something silly like shipping but it actually means a lot to me in this trying time haha#i put on a happy silly front on here because i come here to have fun and be silly you know? even if i don't really feel like that irl#i don't want to burden strangers with my real life problems haha#but yeah I'm rambling I'm sorry. thank you for reaching out#as for the lack of content in tags yeah that's always sucked#unfortunately burningcheese never got the love and attention shadowvanilla and eternalberry got despite it being equally as deserving#straight ship + devsis kinda fumbled their chapters so it damaged interest (and ppl's view of BS as a character in general)#sometimes i think it's for the best just because it means we avoided the slop treatment#but... waaaaahhhhhh burningcheese peak and canon why doesn't everyone obsess over it like i do waaaaaahhhhhh#oh well. be the change you wish to see in the world. that's why i made this blog and my ao3 in the first place haha#so yeah again don't worry. got plenty of stories and headcanons and everything left to share#i ain't beat. but i sure am getting beat up haha
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Footprints in the Snow [Oneshot]
Genfic (Grace & Qi)
Warnings: Contains spoilers for the main story starting from The Goat. Largely based on headcanons, so might be OOC?
Also on AO3
[Summary contains spoilers, so it's below the cut]
Summary: Normally, Qi comes into the saloon for dinner at exactly 6 PM on Tuesdays. He gets a tea porridge and a milk chestnut and some sand tea. Every. Single. Week.
But this week, he doesn't show up until 20 minutes to close. And it doesn't take a secret agent to see that something's up...
A/N: This one goes out to @trash-can-sam for giving me the brainrot for this via these really great comics and HCs. Note again that the characterization here is largely purely in the realm of headcanon since we haven't seen too much of either Grace or Qi's personal quests yet. But fuck it, we ball
Also note that this'll take place after the end of the main story we've got in the game so far, but since we don't know specifically what happens yet, it's vague as to when it happens exactly. Enjoy!
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Winter 23
“Uh, somethin’ the matter, Grace? I think that glass is plenty polished now…”
Grace blinked, gaze snapping from the far door of the saloon to Owen’s concerned face. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. Everything’s good.” She looked down at the glass in her hands. The only stains left now were from her fingerprints all over it.
“You sure? You’re not one to space out like that…well, outside the kitchen, that is,” Owen said with a sheepish laugh.
Grace frowned. “Well…it’s not much, it’s just that…” She hesitated. Was she really going to point this out? “Qi hasn’t shown up for dinner yet.”
Owen’s brow raised, and he looked over to where she was just looking. “Oh, you’re right…Director Qi always has dinner here on Tuesdays…”
“Right around this time, too.” 6 PM exactly.
“Huh. Never figured you’d be worried about the director,” Owen said with an amused grin.
Grace put her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you always saying, ‘Get to know your regulars?’”
Owen waved a hand with a laugh. “I’m just playin’, Grace. Sharp eye you got there.”
Grace snorted. “You say that every other day.”
“It’s true, though.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Grace muttered. “Anyway, you think anyone’ll come in tonight? It’s gonna snow, so maybe we can close up early. Unless we want to wait for Qi.”
Owen hummed. “Let’s wait on the director,” he said with a warm smile. “Plus, maybe a few other people’ll come in for a hot bowl of soup tonight.”
6 PM turned to 7 PM.
7 to 8.
8 to 9.
No Qi.
Grace started putting the glasses on the bar away and grabbed a rag to clean the countertop off. Almost 10. Almost closing time.
No Qi.
Just as she was wiping off the last stain on the counter, the far door to the saloon opened. She glanced up to see Qi walking in, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his thick winter coat. Deep circles framed the underside of his eyes.
“There you are,” Grace intoned with a smirk. “Explosion at the lab hold you up or something?”
“No,” Qi said briskly. “The usual.”
The smirk slowly faded off Grace’s face.
“Director!” Owen called out suddenly through the open kitchen door. “Glad you could make it after all! Everything alright?”
“Yes.”
Owen stared at Qi and Qi stared back at Owen. Owen’s smile turned confused. “You sure…?”
“Yes,” Qi said, sharper this time. “The usual. …Please.”
Owen and Grace exchanged a look. Then Owen’s signature smile reappeared. “Tea porridge and milk chestnut, comin’ right up. Go ahead and make yourself comfy, Director. Grace, mind pouring him some sand tea?”
Grace nodded. Qi abruptly turned around and headed for the door. “I’ll be outside.”
“Wait, Director! It’s cold out there! W-we don’t mind wiping off a table again for you!” Owen called after him. But the door was already open and shut.
Owen gulped and glanced over at Grace. “Make sure he stays warm out there, okay? It’s on the house tonight.”
Grace nodded again. Both of them went into the kitchen, Owen to the stewpot and Grace to the kettle. She filled it as high as she could and grabbed the freshest tea leaves in the pantry. Once it was all steeped in the largest teapot they had, she grabbed two cups (Why two? she asked herself, but it was too late to put one back.) and carefully opened the door outside.
Qi was sitting at his usual outdoor seat, snow wiped away and table filled with a massive stack of paper. He was scribbling rapidly onto a smaller (relatively, it still had to be at least a hundred pages) stack held together by only a single binder ring, muttering indistinctly as he shuffled through some of the other papers. He didn’t look up as Grace approached, so she set the teapot down and poured a cup. Qi snatched the cup with his free hand just as soon as Grace let go of the cup, almost like some sort of animalistic instinct.
She stared at him in his caffeine-fueled stupor for another minute, scanning his face. The furrowed brow, the muttering, the unfocused gaze… It didn’t take a trained agent to know what the problem was.
Eyes lingering on Qi’s illegible handwriting, she opened the door again and went back inside. Owen was just coming out of the kitchen with a tray and two hot bowls of food.
“Everything okay?” Owen asked with a worried smile.
“He’s still alive, at least,” Grace said. She held her hands out. “I can take it to him.”
Owen nodded. “He can take all the time he needs. Don’t worry about closing up.”
Grace nodded and took the tray back outside. Qi looked up this time, awkwardly pushing some of the papers to the side to make room. Eventually, there was enough space, and Qi took up the spoon and started slurping up the porridge, his pen still moving in shapes that didn’t resemble any known language.
Grace just stared at the undignified scene in front of her. What…should she do? She looked over at the spare cup she accidentally(?) brought out with the tea. She shrugged. Might as well.
Wiping the snow off the chair opposite Qi as best she could, she lowered herself down. Qi was only half-visible on the other side, the other half obscured with papers. Grace tentatively poured herself a cup. Qi didn’t seem to care that she was stealing his tea. She took a sip and flinched slightly at the scorching-hot water. How the hell was Qi drinking it this hot?
Lightly blowing the surface to cool it, she kept an eye on Qi across from her, endlessly pursuing some hell-bound goal that only seemed to exist in his own head. His movements were getting more erratic, writing outside the lines and spoon moving faster. At this rate, he was gonna—
Splat.
—spill.
Qi froze with a strangled gasp at the stain that covered a third of the page, blurring the ink. Grace could hear his breathing getting more ragged and heavy. His eyelid twitched.
“Damn it!” he exploded, and there was a flash of movement. The packet hit the floor with a smack and a flutter of papers.
Grace’s heart had jumped at the sudden noise. But she didn’t flinch. Not a muscle in her body moved, not a single flick of the eyes.
Just like training. Only this time with something quieter than a gunshot.
Qi panted as he glared at his discarded papers, soaking up the light amount of snow on the deck. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, pressing his hands over his puffy eyes and into the bridge of his nose.
Grace silently leaned over to read the title page.
City-State of Sandrock
Annual Scientific Research Summary of Findings
Year 99
Director Heng Qi, Sandrock Research Center
Due by the end of this week, said Grace’s memory of Vega 5’s regular publications.
“Waste of time,” Qi muttered through his hands. Grace looked back up at him, her face still holding its practiced neutral setting. “Nothing else in there matters compared to the Olympia. Which they already know about. In detail. Thousands upon thousands of pages already. But sure, why not a few hundred more?”
He ripped his hands away from his face, hitting his lap with a loud slap. Then he brought up a hand again to readjust his glasses. “Bureaucracy,” he spat. “It’s always bureaucracy.”
For the first time in years…Grace was at a loss for words. She’d always know what to say. She’d learned exactly what to say to get what she needed. But this? No handbook or instructor could ever teach her whatever this was.
“And do they care?” Qi plowed on. “Do they even consider for the tiniest measurable quantum of time what it all means? Do they even see the implication of 5 more Olympia spacecraft not in the facility? Can they even comprehend the value of science beyond explosive power and munition counts?!”
He paused, waiting for an answer from someone, yet also no one.
“No!” he shouted, echoing faintly across the cobblestone streets. “They don’t care! It’s always more data disks, Director! More diagrams! More papers! Oh, and why aren’t you focusing on defense already?! It’s like—”
“—nothing will ever be good enough for them.” The words were already out of Grace’s mouth before she could think.
Qi jumped in his seat, suddenly remembering she was there. He panted, out of breath, staring at Grace with a confounded, but angerless look.
The corner of Grace’s lip quirked up. “You do 8 years of loyal service… You end up saving the whole country… And the second it’s over and the bad guys run home to cry to Daddy Emperor, you don’t even get a pat on the back…just your next mission.” She took a sip of her tea. “If you’re real lucky, you even get a tacky medal or something. That you can’t even wear ‘cause it’s illegal to acknowledge you.”
Qi only kept staring at Grace, trying to ask questions with his eyes that she wouldn’t be able to answer. Grace simply closed her eyes and drained the rest of her cup. The tea was getting cold.
“I don’t miss Atara,” she murmured with a light sardonic smile. It came out a lot softer than she meant it to be.
She opened her eyes, but kept them fixed on Vivi’s darkened house across the way. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Qi’s head slowly move down and glance away.
I don’t miss Vega 5, he said without uttering a sound.

[incredible art by @/trash-can-sam!]
A tiny snowflake drifted down into Grace’s empty cup. She looked up to see more gently flutter down from the clouded night sky.
Leaning down to the floor, she picked up the fallen report, shaking off the snow and water as best she could. The back several pages were probably ruined beyond salvage. She held it out to Qi.
He stared at it blankly for a few seconds, before taking it back and placing it back on the table, between a couple of the other papers to protect it from any more damage. Then he picked up his spoon and began eating again.
Grace took the teapot and poured herself another cup. Glancing across the table, she saw Qi’s half-empty cup and topped it off. Qi just nodded slightly without looking up.
She lifted her cup to her lips, carefully taking a sip. It was cooler now, no longer scalding her tongue as it went down. It warmed her belly from the inside out, even through the freshly-fallen snow. She looked out to the dark and empty streets, scanning almost like she would to spot a target in a crowd.
But all her eyes lay on was the sleepiness of night and the serenity of winter. Snow slowly coating the cobblestones. The warm light from the streetlamps illuminating the flakes falling in greater numbers. A cold, silent blanket draped over Sandrock.
She glanced over at Qi again. The bowls were empty. He was nursing his tea now, taking slow drinks as he too looked out over the quiet, snowy street.
Snow dusted the top of Qi’s books, burying the cover’s text. It built up around their feet and settled in their hair as they sat, still and silent as the world around them.
After her third cup, Grace reached over to the teapot, holding it over her cup, only to find it empty.
Qi looked over. Upon seeing the last few drops plop into Grace’s cup, he wiped the snow off his books and gathered them under his arm. Grace moved with him, picking up the dirty dishes. They both stood up, regarding each other for a minute without budging an inch.
“On the house,” Grace said, suddenly remembering.
Qi slowly nodded. “Thank you.”
And with one last unreadable look, he turned around and disappeared behind the corner. His footsteps slowly faded away up the stairs, muffled by the snow.
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Spring 2
3…2…1.
The door of the saloon opened. Grace smirked to herself as she refilled the lemonade pitcher. Exactly on schedule.
She turned around to see Qi’s perpetually unamused face. “The usual?”
“The usual,” he nodded.
Grace made a quick note on her order pad, not that she needed to. “You ever gonna try something else? We got a whoooole menu to pick from and you always just get your soupy stuff.”
“Out of everything on said menu, these two items provide the optimal amount of energy and nutrients for my diet,” Qi said, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at the bar (which Grace internally raised an eyebrow at). “Plus, the soup provides good hydration.”
“Ah yes, nutrients…” Grace said as she poured him a fresh cup of tea. “Like the sugar?” She grinned.
“…Carbohydrates.” A sideways glance.
“You always get rice porridge…”
“Not a sufficient source on its own.” Hiding his mouth behind a sip.
“…Two bowls of porridge…?” The grin on Grace’s face widened.
“That’s too much. And there’s no protein. Are you going to make my order, or…?” Trying to change the subject.
Normally, Grace would’ve tried to poke him again. But just this one time, she only let out a snort and shrug, and headed for the kitchen.
And if she felt a brief sense of relief as she did, well…that was classified.
#my time at sandrock#mtas#mtas fanfic#mtas qi#mtas grace#shady's fics#this was fun#i wrote most of it in a stupor late last night#think that's the fastest turnaround time i've ever had for a fic#i am a humble servant of The Brainrot
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