#but yeah if cass had been embraced by someone with a little more intent

[styxnbones]

for cass: what do you most miss about being alive?

Cass: "Easy: hotdogs and sunshine. Also maybe petting cats- the little bastards never let me get close anymore. But really, there's not much I had going on as a squishy-ass mortal that I can't do at least 10 times better now. I know a lot of licks my age are still in the phase of privately angsting and brooding about all the things they can't do anymore, or feeling like their undeath has robbed them of something intrinsic, but I worked that all out of my system pretty quick, (I did have an awful lot of time with nothing to do but sit and think.) And I've never really been predisposed to that sort of shit anyways- what's done is done and there's no point moping about things you can't change, especially when you could use that time to figure out how to best exploit your new situation."

[blueunoias]

Nesta is having her period and horrible day and she just want to go home. Then she and Cassian get in fight bc of something stupid (like Cassian has ate nestas chocolate or smth) and then she just starts crying. So like angst, comfort and yeah🤭

Ooooh, thank you for my first ask. I love this prompt! I'll do my best for you. Let me know if you want more modern au or canon!

For context Cassian was away for a day or two, Nesta had a bad day with her trauma. Nessian angst, comfort and fluff. Enjoy!

Cassian was exhausted when he'd gotten home from Windhaven his wings were worn out, his muscles ached in pain and all he wanted was to see his beautiful mate and sleep in her loving arms.

That would have to wait a bit however.

The family was having dinner at the River House, he quickly showered and changed, excited to finally be reunited with his mate, family and friends.

But mostly his mate.

Stepping into the house, he heard the booming laughter from the living room everyone was sat by the fire, this immediately set an alarm off in Cassian's brain.

As his eyes scanned the room, he found Mor relaxing on a lounge chaise, bottle of wine in hand.

Feyre on Rhys lap on a velvet arm chair.

Lucien and Elain were sat on the carpet by the coffee table wrapped in each others arms.

Amren was in her own chair nursing a glass of dark red ruby wine, with Varian at her feet massaging her ankles

Then his eyes caught to Azriel who stood in the far back of the room carerfully watching over Nesta who seemed like was trying to keep herself together.

Her posture was shrunk, her eyes were glazed and hollow, her breaths were small and heavy.

Cassian could see Nesta, his fierce, fearless mate, cowering into herself, drowning without someone to anchor her.

Suddenly noticing his presence, everyone in the room greeted him with cheerful ebullience.

Cassian politely greeted them and immediately made him path to his mate, ignoring Mor asking him to join her on the chaise or Rhys questions on his trip.

He had no intention of doing any of that. He had another mission.

"Hey sweetheart." He kneeled down in front of Nesta, gently putting his hands on her knees, rubbing delicate circles with his thumb.

Nesta slowly looked up and her gaze was suddenly icy and cold it chilled the room.

"She's been like this for a while." Azriel spoke lowly and quietly only for Cassian to hear.

Worry rushed through Cassian, his first primal instinct was immediately to take her home, hold her and comfort her.

Every protective Fae bone in his body wanted to soar out of there her in his arms, but calmly he took her hands pulled her up.

"I'm taking Nesta home." He announced making his way with an unresponsive Nesta to the exit. "I'll see you later."

"But you just got here." Mor pouted.

"Come on Cass. Stay a bit." Rhys asked.

"You both can always stay the night." Feyre offered generously.

"No. We're going home. And no more fires when I'm not here." He growled, the anger betraying him that they lit a fire and didn't account for Nesta's traumatized behavior.

Without another word he took Nesta and flew them back home to the House of Wind.

Once they were in the room, the House immediately procured warm tea and blankets for Nesta.

She walked silently to the bathroom, she had still to talk to him, still to touch him, still to even acknowledge him.

The fear was beginning to eat him up inside.

He followed her to their bathroom, finding Nesta standing like a ghost in the middle of the room.

Cassian stormed his way towards her, turning her body to his, searching her face for answers.

"Nesta, sweetheart. Talk to me, love." He said softly, cupping her face in his hand.

Then she pushed his hand away, twisting something in his gut.

"Nesta, what's wrong?" She still wouldn't meet his gaze.

Silence for a long stretch of a moment, until she finally opened her mouth and he finally heard her sweet voice.

"You took it."

"What?"

"You took it." She shoved him weakly in the chest, not moving him at all, but her voice grew louder and became glacial ice.

"Nesta what the fuck?" He growled, this was not the homecoming he was expecting.

"You took my book Cassian! You took my book." She shoved him again. Her face was rage, fury, mixed in with a hint of sadness?

"What the fuck? Your book?"

"Yes. My book. My book. The one you gifted me. You took it!." She shouted into his face, her breathing turned ragged.

"You're acting crazy over a fucking book?"

"Don't talk to me like that," she growled, barring her teeth. "You took my book."

"Calm the fuck down, alright. What the hell is wrong with you? You have lot's of books why the fuck are freaking out over one book?"

At this Nesta balked, her face turned red to pale, her eyes went hollow, suddenly tears started running down her eyes.

Sobs broke out of his mate, and Cassian was so utterly horrified.

Afraid of hurting her more and taken aback with confusion he stilled in his stop.

"It's not just a book." She cried, more tears danced down her face, agony twisted on her beautiful features, he felt Nesta's hurt through the bond and his own tearing his heart.

"Nes–"

"I need it! I needed the book. And took it. It was the only thing that keeps me grounded when you're not here, and you took it with you and my heart."

"Sweetheart." Cassian whispered, daring to take a step toward the devastating female, her took her head and cradled her to his chest, she continued to sob and he let her get it out.

He could see the tension in her shoulders fade away as she released the pain she'd been holding in all day.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Nesta my love." He apologized into her hair, pressing kisses to her crown. "I'm sorry."

He didn't know how long he and Nesta stood there holding each other, embraced in each other's arms, but finally Nesta's sobs subsided, her breathing calmed.

"Bad day?" He asked softly, leaning away to cup her beautiful face in his calloused hands.

She nodded solemnly against his embrace.

"Bad day. And you weren't here." More tears danced down her pale ivory skin, her blue grey eyes shined in the moonlight.

Even in sadness, Nesta was still the most beautiful creature he's ever set his ancient eyes on.

"And– and then with the fire and all the talking and voiced it was, it just was too much. I didn't– I couldn't handle it without you there."

He gently wiped her tears with his thumbs, leaning in to press kisses under her cheeks.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I'm so sorry. It won't happen again." He promised, holding her to his chest again, arm wrapped around her waist the other hand brushing out her braided hair.

"You know I'm always here for you. I got your back Nesta.

"I missed you." She confessed quietly, her arms tighter around his waist.

"I know, I know. I missed you too. So much."

"It's hard when you're not here sometimes."

"It's hard for me too." He breathed. "Not being with you. You're my anchor too Nesta."

As much as he loved his fiery sassy Nesta, he loved when Nesta could open her heart to him and be so vulnerable even if it took a little screaming to get there.

"I'm sorry for– well for freaking out. The way I did."

"Don't apologise, Nes." He pulled away just to look down and smile at her. Taking her hand he led her back into the bedroom.

"Thank you for being my anchor." She said, in which he grinned in response, conveying all the words with a simple look.

Always. Nesta. Always.

"Come on sweetheart. Let's get to bed." He said pressing a soft warm kiss to her full lips, rousing a small bashful smile from his female.

Sleep came easy to Cassian, with Nesta calm and soothed wrapped up in his arm, her arms wrapped around his, her pretty head laying on his chest.

"I love you, Cass." His mate whispered into the night.

He pulled even closer to his firm body, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I love you too, Nes."

In this life and the next.

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

dancing is the best revenge

Fandom: Tangled the Series

Rating: T

AO3

“Not bad,” Hugo says, dipping his hors d'oeuvre into the bubbling champagne. “You know, for a wedding .”

Varian rolls his eyes. “And what do you, pray tell, have against weddings?”

“Besides the part where everyone cried over a government sanctioned union? The lack of drama . I’ve been more entertained at funerals.”

“I don’t know, the ring bearers disappearing halfway through the ceremony and then showing up last minute covered in-- I don’t know what, was pretty dramatic.”

“You have literally been possessed by the demon of your dead mother.”

“I was fine.”

Hugo snorts, placing his empty champagne glass onto a passing waiter’s tray. “You and I have very different definitions of fine, sweetheart.”

“Fine, so we’ve attended more entertaining venues. What do you want me to do about it?”

Hugo grins, eyebrows bouncing up and down. “I might have a few ideas.”

Varian blinks after his boyfriend, who has suddenly disappeared into the wedding crowd. Unsure whether to go after him, or just embrace the chaos that’s going to unfold with or without his intervention, Varian bounces on his toes, trying to catch a glimpse of his deranged boyfriend.

The orchestra plays a few bars and Varian immediately slaps a palm to his face.

“This is the most terrible day of my life,” Varian says, as Hugo saunters back over to him. The violins in the background, playing a fucking tango . Varian doesn’t know how he convinced the orchestra to take requests, but doesn’t want to ask.

Sometimes, with Hugo, it’s better to live in ignorance.

“What are you doing?” he asks flatly, as Hugo comes to a stop in front of him, the smirkiest of smirks on his dumb face.

“Wanna dance?” Hugo drawls, holding a hand out enticingly.

Varian makes eye contact with Rapunzel across the room. Rapunzel is laughing so hard she snorts wine up her nose.

He looks back at Hugo.

“I don’t dance,” Varian replies, flatly.

“Yeah? Just like you don’t ‘do boyfriends?’” Hugo asks, doing visible air quotes with his hands that makes Varian further irritated.

“I can’t dance,” he says, through gritted teeth.

“Aw, really?” Hugo takes Varian’s hand anyway and begins to gently tug him toward the dance floor. Various dance partners around them are doing incredibly dramatic renditions of the tango --the most notable being Lance and Eugene who are absolutely killing it.

Hugo sharply tugs on Varian’s arm, reeling him into his side with a flourish. “Don’t worry,” he says, teeth gleaming sharply in the candle light. “I won’t let you fall.”

Varian’s face burns so red he can feel the heat radiating from it.

Being the taller of the two--and the one who can actually dance --Hugo takes lead, guiding Varian through a series of complex moves that make his head spin. It’s more complicated than a waltz--the one dance Varian did vaguely know, via watching Eugene and Lance engage in their weird, homoerotic, rituals--with far more moves involved.

Hugo guides Varian back and forth on the dance floor, spinning him every few moves. “Keep the upper half of your body stiff,” he whispers to Varian, looking amused as the blue-eyed alchemist squawks at being dipped. “And the lower half--” his smirk literally cannot get more smirky then this moment, “-- flexible .”

“I have never hated anyone more than I hate you right now.”

“Good we can use that. Dance like we’re about to have hate-sex.”

Varian sputters. “We’ve never had hate-sex!” he hisses, maybe just a tad too loud for a public setting. A courtier, spinning one of Rapunzel’s ladies-in-waiting around, promptly drops her. Hugo snickers.

“Not yet , we haven’t.”

Varian gives Hugo a flat look. Hugo spins and drops him into another dip. “Hugo, I’m not having hate-sex with you tonight.”

“Well of course not.” Hugo picks Varian up into a quick, graceful lift, and drops him back on the floor in time to the accompanying music. “That would imply that you hate me.”

“No, it would imply that we’re going to fuck tonight.”

“What? Dancing doesn’t make you horny?” Another dip over Hugo’s knee.

“No,” Varian dryly replies, blinking up at Hugo. There are tiny gold flecks in his green eyes that are positively mesmerizing. “No, it does not.”

They both stop the twirling and dipping and go back to the general movement of the tango, gracefully sliding down the dance floor. Varian thinks he sees Eugene dip Lance out of the corner of his eye.

Hugo reels Varian in close. Very very close. Their noses brush, lips a breath away from touching. “But arguing does ,” Hugo murmurs, with the confidence of someone who’s gotten Varian in the mood just from picking a fight over why polonium was the best periodic element.

Varian flushes all the way down his neck. Hugo pulls away just as the last few strains of the song cry out across the ballroom. With a grin, he slinks away, back toward the food buffet, hips doing that weird saunter that Hugo thought was sexy.

Dammit , it was sexy.

With a groan, Varian follows.

“Hey Varian,” Rapunzel calls from a few feet away. Varian grins, redirecting his path toward her.

She truly looks beautiful, white wedding dress with an insanely long train that’s reminiscent of her once-long hair. Her look on her face, however, does not make the elegance of her gown.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” she says, grinning in a way that’s just a little too evil.

“I don’t,” Varian says, erring on the side of defensive.

“Hmm, well that was an awful lot of something for someone who doesn’t .”

Varian thinks Rapunzel is hanging around Hugo too much. Or Cass. Or Eugene. Or-dammit, are all of Varian’s friends secretly evil? That’s supposed to be his thing.

“Hugo is persuasive,” he says, flatly.

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Rapunzel continues grinning. “He’s also checking you out, right now.”

Varian spins on his heel, just in time to see Hugo watching him with intent . The minute they lock eyes, Hugo grins sheepishly.

“I need a fucking leash for him,” Varian mutters.

“There are so many ways I could respond to that,” Rapunzel sighs. “Varian, go take your boyfriend somewhere else before he ends up making out with you on a table or something.”

“We’re not going to makeout on a table!” Varian hisses, throwing his hands up in the air as he stalks toward his boyfriend. Said boyfriend looks just a little too excited at Varian’s glaring.

“Oooh, is this the part where you murder me and hide my body in Corona’s sewers?” Hugo asks, as Varian drags him out of the ballroom.

“Hugo, shut up,” Varian snaps, completely done with his boyfriend’s idiocy.

“Make me -mmphff -”

Varian spins his boyfriend around, pressing him into a nearby wall. He has to stand up in his tip-toes to kiss him, but it’s entirely worth it. “Did you just dance with me to make me mad so I would have sex with you?” Varian asks, when he pulls away.

Hugo, who’s brain hasn’t caught up beyond Varian’s kissing me , gapes at him for a moment. “Uh, maybe?”

“I hate you, you’re ridiculous,” Varian says, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice.

“Is that a no on the-”

“Shut up.”

Hugo grins, bending down to press his lips to Varian’s so Varian doesn’t have to strain himself. Varian lets himself be kissed--lets Hugo run his fingers through his hair, and brush his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and sigh contentedly into him.

The slow, gentle strains of a waltz float out into the corridor. Hugo pulls away, something between a gentle smile and an amused grin present on his face.

“Wanna dance?”

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

Previous | Next​

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 17 - Moving

Aunt Cass very nearly tipped over the bar stool she had been sitting on as she rushed to the door. 

“Varian!” She exclaimed and flung her arms around the bedraggled boy in relief. 

Guilt pained Varian like a knife. He had been anxious the whole trip back, unsure how he would handle being reprimanded again. He had walked into the Luck Cat fully expecting another lecture and the sight of both Professor Granville and Officer Cruz had only heightened his anxiety. Instead he was met with a tearful hug. Apparently Aunt Cass had been crying when they had entered the cafe, and according to Hiro, she had been crying since he’d disappeared last night. 

“I’m...I’m s-sorry.” He sputtered. “I was just trying to earn some money I’d... I didn’t mean to...I didn’t want to hurt any-” 

He cut his apology short when he felt Aunt Cass wrap her arms tighter around him. She gave him a comforting squeeze to tell him it was alright, but that only made him cry all the more. Why was she being so nice to him? After all the trouble he had caused her, she should be furious at him. But she wasn’t mad at all, just relieved that he was alright. 

When she finally released him from her embrace, Aunt Cass cupped his face in her hands and brushed away his tears using her thumbs. She gave him a warm smile as she sniffled and blinked back tears of her own. However, that smile fell away as she studied his face more intently, which quickly turned into a full on inspection. 

He was covered in dirt, his clothes were still damp in places, and his hair was more disheveled than usual. She picked a twig from his bangs and gave him a concerned look. 

“Where were you?” She asked and Varian felt his cheeks grow hot as he realized how ridiculous his decisions from last night had been. 

“We found him in Muirahara Woods, '' Hiro explained. 

“The woods?” Cass echoed. “You were in the woods all night?” 

All Varian could do was nod sheepishly. 

Aunt Cass looked appalled. 

“When’s the last time you ate?” Was her next question.

Varian thought for a moment. He hadn’t expected that question. “Uh...I had an apple for lunch yesterday.” 

This only horrified Aunt Cass further. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him over to the closest table. Then she went over to the counter and grabbed a sandwich from the display cooler, nabbed a plate, and poured him a glass of milk. 

Varian didn’t really feel like eating, his stomach was still tied up in knots, but there was no point in protesting. Aunt Cass was insistent and he had already caused enough of a scene. So Varian sat down and forced himself to eat.

He had to admit that the chicken salad sandwich she had made was delicious, and that he had been going hungry for several hours now, but he couldn’t relish the meal. As he sullenly chewed on his food guilt gnawed at his insides and an uncomfortable silence befell the cafe. His friends tried to dispel the awkwardness by joining him at the table and a few even ordered food for themselves so that they could eat with him, but it did little to uplift the pensive mood. 

Aunt Cass served everyone but constantly came back to Varian to hover over him. She would straighten his collar, wipe a smudge of dirt from his cheek, or run her fingers through his hair to tidy it up. It was as if she was afraid he would disappear again and so found excuses to fret over him in order to remind herself that he was really there safe and sound. 

Varian didn’t know how to feel about this new attention. No one had ever fussed over him in such a manner. Perhaps his own mother had when he was little, but he had only been six when she’d died and therefore couldn’t remember much. On the one hand, he felt even more self conscious now than he had when he'd first entered the restaurant. On the other hand, he couldn’t deny that it was comforting to be treated with care and kindness instead of the contempt other adults had given him when he was last in need. 

“Cass,” Chief Cruz interrupted them, “can we have a word with you?” 

Aunt Cass stopped in the middle of refilling his drink and looked towards Cruz and Granville. They had been standing patiently off the side while she had mothered over the teens.

“Oh yes, right. I almost forgot. I’ll meet you both in the kitchen.” She told them. “I’ll be right back. If any of you need anything just holler.” She instructed the gang and then, much to Varian’s surprise, she gave both Hiro and him a quick kiss on top of their heads before walking off. As if he had been her own child, the same as Hiro. 

Varian watched all three adults walk away in increasing alarm and confusion. Usually grown ups discussing things out of earshot of you meant something was wrong and he'd just recently screwed up big time. Plus Aunt Cass’s recent behavior had knocked him for a loop and he no longer knew what to expect. Were they leaving to discuss his punishment or figuring out how to keep him from leaving again? It had to be something to do with him but he didn’t know what. He looked at his friends questioningly but they only shrugged, equally confused. 

By the time the adults returned, Varian was sick to his stomach with worry and he wasn’t sure if the food he’d just eaten had helped or not. 

“Varian,” Aunt Cass stepped forward as if to make some sort of announcement, “Officer Cruz, Professor Granville, and I have been talking about yesterday and we’ve come to a very important decision.” 

That didn’t sound good. 

“Do you want us to leave?” Honey Lemon asked helpfully. 

“No, this concerns some of you as well.” 

Everyone shared worried glances at that. 

Aunt Cass took a deep breath and slowly continued on, “In light of what’s happened, we don’t think you should be living in the dorms anymore.” 

“You’re kicking me out of school?” Varian wailed, terrified. 

“Certainly not!” Granville interjected, “And don’t forget you still have an essay on Einstein's photoelectric effect due on Monday. I fully expect to see it on my desk in the morning.”

Varian had forgotten actually, but he was less concerned with homework at the moment and more concerned with where all of this was going. At least the professor’s usual no nonsense attitude eased his fears of being expelled. 

“A college roommate isn’t enough of an authority figure to be watching over a sixteen year old,” Cruz put in, annoyed, only to notice Wasabi standing across from him, and added apologetically, “No offense.”

Wasabi held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, none taken.” He assured the police officer.

Wasabi liked Varian just fine, but he had to admit that the past month of living with him had been stressful. He’d had his fill of trying to halfway parent someone who was only three years younger than himself. 

“Varian,” Aunt Cass bent down to look him in the eye. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re not welcome here, or that you can’t come to me or another adult for help and I’m sorry if what I said in the car last night upset you.” 

“No,” Varian’s voice cracked, “no, I’m sorry I ran away.” 

‘Why did you run away, Varian?” 

“I...my dad...and the arrest.” He couldn’t coherently string together words. He couldn’t explain to her what was going on and he tried to look away from her gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Aunt Cass soothed as she stroked his face with the back of her hand to gain his attention once more. “Professor Granville explained to me what’s going on, about your father and what you’ve been through. You don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to.” 

Varian looked first to Granville and then back to Aunt Cass in confusion, and so did the rest of the gang. How much had the Professor given away?

“I’m sorry Varian,” Granville spoke up, ”I know what you said to me was in confidence, but Officer Cruz needed to know about your past record.” She paused to give the officer an irritated look. “However, no one is blaming you. It’s not easy being a refugee from a former soviet country.” 

The heroes clued in on her hint and kept silent as Aunt Cass picked back up the conversion, unaware that they were hiding anything. 

“Those things should never have happened to you.” Aunt Cass told Varian, her own voice now cracking with emotion. “But, without your father around, you need some sort of guardian to look after you.” She took a deep breath to steady herself before announcing her big decision. 

“That’s why I would like to become your foster parent.” 

Everyone looked at her in surprise. Varian glanced over at Hiro who appeared to be even more shocked than the rest of their friends. This was just as much news to him as it was to Varian. Aunt Cass stood back up and reached her arm out to her nephew, motioning him to come join her. He did so and found himself wrapped up in a half hug as she continued to speak with Varian. 

“We would love for you to come live with us here at the Luck Cat.” She smiled. Hiro took a moment more to process what was happening before also giving his own strained smile

“Yeah, of course you’re welcome here.” He agreed. 

His voice sounded cheerful, but Varian could tell that he was still reeling from the decision the same as he was. Varian wanted to decline the offer and spare them both the trouble. Besides, he was only just starting to get used to living in the dorms, and he would now have to upend his life for what would be a third time in less than two months. However, the serious faces of Cruz and Granville told him that he didn’t have much choice in the matter. 

Varian swallowed hard before slowly nodding his head in agreement. 

“Alright.” He said, but his own voice sounded small and far away to him. He barely remembered what happened next. His mind was a blur as everything seemed to be happening at once. 

There were discussions on what to do next; who would sleep where, when he should start packing, and a list of rules and other things that would be expected of him once he moved in. The adults talked about paperwork and formal records while his friends tried to offer optimistic words of encouragement to ease both his and Hiro's discomfort. But for Varian it was too much to take in at one time. 

Fortunately things started to wind down as one by one everyone started to leave. Cruz stated that he was glad that Varian was safe before going back to the station to call off the search party. Granville mentioned that she would gather up the forms that were needed and help Aunt Cass finalize everything as she walked out the door. And finally, Varian himself left, along with Wasabi. It was agreed that he could spend one more night at the dormitories before the move. He heaved a sigh of relief as soon as he was able to escape. Though as he and Wasabi drove away in his car, Varian knew that it was only a temporary respite from the awkwardness.

                                                      -----------------

Hiro stood by while his aunt busied herself with making up Varian’s bed. It had been decided that the other teen would sleep in the ‘guest bedroom’, which was really more of a small office space that Aunt Cass kept a fold-up rolling bed in. She wanted to clean it up and make everything ready before Varian came to stay with them tomorrow. 

Hiro helped where he could, like grabbing things from the attic, taking out the trash, or handing her the sheets as she made the bed up, but for the most part he tried to stay out of her way as she went into a cleaning frenzy. Still he made sure to stay nearby in case she called for him to give her a hand with anything. More importantly though, he just didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. 

He was still stunned by her announcement today. He understood why this was happening, but at  the same time it was still a major change to all of their lives and he didn’t know what to say or how to process his feelings about it. 

Aunt Cass, however, sensed his discomfort.

“I’m sorry, about not talking to you earlier,” she said as she tucked a sheet corner under the mattress, “about what’s going on. I know this is a big change and it’s all very sudden, and that you didn’t get a chance to have a say in the matter.” 

“It’s okay.” Hiro assured her. True the decision had caught him off guard, but he didn’t want to come across as being unreasonable or bratty by whining. Varian had been through a lot after all and Aunt Cass raising him was probably for the best. 

“No, it’s not okay.” Aunt Cass turned to him and sighed, "and it’s not fair to you. You deserve to know about things that’ll affect your life and if you’re upset you can tell me.” 

She gave him an apologetic smile, but Hiro didn’t respond to it. He didn’t know how to explain to her the swirl of confusing emotions tumbling through him at the moment. He didn’t even have words to identify most of them. 

She sighed again and continued on, “I don’t know how much Varian has told you, but it turns out that Corona isn’t as safe a place as here in San Fansokyo. He’s been through a lot, and he doesn’t have any family right now to take care of him. He may be staying here for quite some time, for the foreseeable future anyways, but,” She rested a hand upon Hiro’s shoulder," he needs us.” 

Hiro met her pleading eyes. She needed him to understand why this was important but mostly she needed him to support her decision. To let her know that this was okay and that she was doing the right thing. She had rushed in, yes, but what else was there to be done? Who else was there to help? 

“He told us, a little.” Hiro admitted. “About his dad being injured and about how he got sent to prison.” Aunt Cass bit her lip at the reminder of Varian’s time in jail, but remained silent and let Hiro continue. “Look, I understand, Aunt Cass, really. It’s...it’s fine. We’ll be fine. We’ll make it work somehow.” 

It was now Hiro’s turn to offer his aunt a small smile, one of encouragement. She returned it and tenderly swept his bangs to one side like she so often did. 

“Thank you,” She said,” Thank you for being so grown up about this. I’m very proud of you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Now, let's get this room fixed up. I’ll grab the duster and you go get the furniture polish, okay.”

                                                       -----------------

Varian did a mental count of his belongings now splayed out upon the couch. He and Wasabi were packing up his things for the move tomorrow and he wanted to make sure that he left nothing behind. Not that he had that much stuff to keep up with. 

"Wasabi?" Varian asked.

"Hmm?" The older teen answered as he folded Varian's clothes neatly into a suitcase. 

"Do you think Aunt Cass would let me stay an extra night here?" 

"Why? That would put us making the move after school on Monday." Wasabi reasoned. 

Varian sighed and gave only a shrug in reply. He had no reason other than the fact he wanted to stay, but no one seemed to care about what he wanted. 

"Look, I know this is a major readjustment," Wasabi continued, "but the adults are right. You need a guardian." 

Varian desperately tried to suppress an eye roll. Yes, he had messed up yesterday, but that didn't mean he couldn't take care of himself. Surely his past was proof enough that he had what it took to live on his own, but now that the truth was out, well mostly out, everyone was even more insistent on coddling him. Varian didn't want to seem ungrateful, but he was starting to become irritated. 

"Can't I just… I don't know, come to you or Professor Granville if I need something?" 

"It doesn't work that way. Granville can't sign off on stuff or pay your bills, and I barely qualify as an adult. Besides we both know you don't listen to me anyways." 

"I listen," Varian protested, "sometimes," he then added after a pause. 

Wasabi gave him a stern look. 

Varian sighed in defeat. "It's just, I was just starting to like it here, alright." 

Wasabi's expression softened at that. "I get you. I'm going to miss having you around too. For what’s worth, you're the best roommate I've had since I started college. But hey, it's not like we won't ever see each other. We'll still meet up at school and such, and yeah you can probably still stay over sometimes. You just gotta get Aunt Cass's permission first." 

Wasabi turned back to his task of organizing Varian's suitcase when Ruddiger popped up from underneath the neatly stacked pile of clothes. The raccoon stood inside the luggage bag, paws outstretched, underwear caught on one ear, with an expression that suggested he was immensely proud of himself for pulling off his little prank. Wasabi fumed at the creature and picked Ruddiger up by the scruff of his neck. 

"Now you I shall not miss." He scolded as he pointed his finger accusingly at the raccoon. Who only huffed at him in response. He then handed Varian his pet before turning back to clean up the mess. 

"It's okay, buddy." Varian reassured as Ruddiger nuzzled his cheek. "You'll like it better at the Lucky Cat anyways. There's more room, and I saw a few other raccoons running around outside. Maybe you'll make a friend there, hun?" 

At least Aunt Cass was allowing him to keep Ruddiger. She had also offered him a part time job at the cafe, since his desire for spending cash is what had led to the whole bot fight fiasco in the first place. 

The only two things that she had requested of him, was that he would tell her where he was going when he went out, which given the circumstances, was fair, and that he would have to attend something called therapy. When asked what that was, Baymax had called it ‘a means of improving an individual's well-being and mental health using psychological methods’, and Hiro had said it just meant he’d have to talk to someone who was paid to listen to his problems. Varian still wasn’t sure what that entailed nor was he too keen on the idea of speaking to some stranger about his past and innermost feelings. He found opening up to people that he actually did like hard enough as it was.

“Hey Wasabi, have you ever gone to therapy?” He asked tentatively, finally giving voice to his thoughts. 

“Yeah, lots of times. In fact there’s a student counselor right here on campus that I see regularly.” He admitted. “I like to go to him sometimes when my OCD starts acting up again. Talking about it tends to help.” 

“OCD?”

“Uh, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, it’s a type of mental illness.” 

“You’re sick? And you didn’t tell me!?” Varian couldn’t stop the fear and concern creeping through his voice. True, this world had better medical treatments than his own, but that didn’t erase all the times he had known someone who had died from an illness, like his own mother for instance. 

“What!? No! Well, yeah. I mean... mental illness is still an illness but… but it’s not like that...” Wasabi stumbled over his words trying to explain the difference to the time displaced teen. “Look, think of it, like, owning a car.” 

Varian just stared blankly at him, not understanding what Wasabi was getting at, still worried over his friend’s health. 

“Your brain is a complex machine. You gotta treat it right. Make sure it’s well fueled, and recharged, and not making any clunky noises while you ride around. Sometimes that means you gotta go to a mechanic for a tune up, or in this case see a doctor to help you look under the hood and figure out what’s wrong. And sometimes what’s wrong can just be some minor thing that merely inconveniences you, like a busted headlight or a window that won’t roll up, and other times it’s something more serious that you need to deal with on the regular, like changing a spark plug now and then or adding oil when it gets low. Usually you can drive around with these things for a while before having to deal with them, but if you don’t deal with them they’ll turn into bigger problems later on. Then you got your emergency situations, like a breakdown or an actual injury. That’s when you need to seek immediate attention.”

Varian mulled over his friend’s words. He’d never thought of his brain as like being one of his inventions before, but it made sense in a way. 

“So which is it for you? Are you in danger or not?” 

“No, for the most part. It’s not as if OCD will kill ya, but every now and then you get overwhelmed and have a panic attack. You feel your chest get tight and your heart rate speeds up, and it’s like the whole world is closing in around you.”

Varian looked at Wasabi in surprise. His friend had perfectly described how it felt while running through the city last night. How could anyone else know that kind of blind fear? What on earth had Wasabi been through to cause such a ‘breakdown’, as he had described it? 

However, instead of prying, Varian asked a different question, “What do you do when you have these attacks?”

‘Well, I try to take deep breaths, maybe do some yoga, anything to get myself away from what’s stressing me out, and if I have a particularly bad one or if they keep happening a lot, that’s when I talk to someone, like the counselor.”

“Could… could I maaaybe come to you, if I have one? You know, ‘get away from it’ like you said?”

“Of course you can. Heck, you can even keep the spare key to the dorm. Drop by anytime you need to, even if I’m not here. Just let someone know where you’re at.” 

“Ok, thanks.” Varian offered up a smile, knowing he had some place familiar to run to when stressed greatly eased his mind. 

“Hey, what are friends for?” Wasabi said, echoing the same words Varian had heard him say during his first night in this new world. 

“You know, before I met you, I didn’t know the answer to that question. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had, well next to Ruddiger that is.” He admitted sheepishly as he placed his beloved pet down. When he stood back up he noticed Wasabi was blinking back tears. 

“Maaan, come here you knucklehead.” He grabbed Varian into a mock headlock and gently mussed up his hair with his knuckles. Varian had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. 

“Ahh, no! Noogies! My one weakness!” he feigned and they both started to snicker. 

“Yeah well, next time don’t scare me like you did yesterday.” He let Varian go and added more seriously. “We’re best friends, and nothing’s going to change that, not a panic attack nor a move. Got it?” 

“Got it.” Varian repeated. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all, not when he still had friends he could turn to.

[amytaylcr]

needs & wants

TAGGING → @casskaykingston LOCATION → Amy’s apartment TIMEFRAME → Thursday, January 24th

The day seemed to drag on unbearably long that Thursday night. Having a steady job, getting accustomed to working nine to five every day was an effort, even for those who liked their job, like Amy. Not only did it give her a sense of purpose and accomplishment, but it provided her with new challenges, new obstacles to overcome and focus her energies on, and it had honestly been so long since the last time she had that that Amy was reminiscent of a child about to enter Disney world and have the time of their life. The company at work was no small feature, either, as Annabel didn’t make it feel like a chore, like something that had to be done, but rather something you wanted to do. It was a talent not many people had, the knack to inspire the same kind of loyalty and devotion in others as one felt, and Amy counted her blessings for hounding Sydney at the gala about her former job. Brooks’s younger sister might have left some big shoes to fill, but Amy had every intention of living up to that legacy and making her own. It was what she had been craving for in her life in such a long time that it seemed impossible to tear her focus away from it, even in the romantic department.

Yes, the new job and the new apartment had brought about some new challenges to her dynamic with Cass. The choice of place for sleeping over, dinner date, or just regular hanging out had always fallen on the blonde’s property for the simple reason they didn’t really have anywhere else, and it was the perfect space on top of that, too. Now, however, there were two variables in that equation, and choosing one wasn’t as simple anymore. They both had jobs, obligations, habits that were not easily broken, and though Amy’s were very much in their infancy, they had the special brand that came with life-changing steps. They were, however, working out a system and it was that which found them in the kitchenette of her new apartment that evening, cooking dinner and sharing stories.

“So, yeah, long story short, I’m kinda thinking Claire and Anna are perfect for each other and I can’t wait to see what happens there,” Amy finished her bit about setting up her two friends as she diced tomatoes above a salad bowl as Cass tended to the shrimp frying on the stove. “Oh! And, oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you this,” she turned excitedly to her boyfriend, a bright, conspiratorial grin tugging at her lips. “Remember how Andrew and Iris attended the gala for all of five minutes before Iris got sick and they had to leave? Well, guess who was right in their assumption that our dear friend has another bun in the oven!” The playful wiggle of her eyebrows was clearly meant to suggest that the answer was Amelia Taylor.

It's a funny thing when something you're proud of someone for getting, something that makes them so happy and makes you happy in relation, still has the power to make you kind of sad. That was the tricky relationship Cass now had with Amy's new job and new life, though his complete feelings on the matter he'd never disclose to the woman currently making dinner with him, hair that now brushed her shoulders in a messy bun while she makes dinner with him. Amy's hazel eyes shine as she talks, their conversations during dinner one of the things he never really expected to look forward to and love so much. They got to discuss their days while doing something together, time with her that Cass found even more precious now that their lives had adjusted to first her new job and then her new apartment. What had first had a simple answer, his place, had changed into two possible ones, a development that, while he didn't begrudge her, he did miss her. Missed the guarantee that if she was spending the night, it would be in his bed, wrapped around her in sheets that smelled like them, waking up to her gorgeous face. Missed her making his place feel more like home than any other he'd been. As selfish as he felt on the inside, Cass let none of it show on the outside. He committed her new address to memory, brought over clothing to fill a drawer at her place. There were no limits of compromises he'd make for her, if Cass was being honest.  And he was proud of her. So proud. Even if it tasted bittersweet.

He pushed his turning golden shrimp around the pan with a spatula, the sizzle and scent of the spices a pleasant background to their conversation, the sleeves of a forest green button down rolled to his elbows. A chuckle leaves Cass's mouth when he hears more about the diabolical plan of setting Anna and Claire up, though he's a supporter of the plan. "Me either. Please keep me updated if Claire doesn't." His deep voice rumbles, popping a shrimp into his mouth for taste. Turning to her, he chokes for a second on it when Amy adds that Iris and Andrew are, in fact, expecting, an altogether too familiar feeling spreading through his chest. First joy, reflecting how happy he was for them, and then longing, a gut punch that he'd long since trained not to show on his face. "That's amazing. I'm sure the two of them are over the moon." Cass gets out once he swallows, keeping the touch of sadness out of his smile better than he usually could when keeping things from her. A shake of his head at the eyebrow wiggle and he turns back to his food, not wanting to make it burn. Fighting on the inside for a moment, unsure of what to bring up, words come to his mouth unbidden. "You remember the conversation we had when we were becoming friends? It's crazy how much has changed since then." Sure he might be trying to lead to something, but the thirty two year old man wasn't wrong. Everything, it seemed, had changed since then. Maybe Cass was just curious as to how much.

Back before Cass, in those dark days when she had been condemned to just her own sour company, Amy never minded other people’s business. Her logic seemed simple enough: if she stayed out of theirs, they would stay out of hers and that was that. And then Cass came along, cracked open the hard shell in which she had cramped herself, and somehow that little world was no longer enough for her. The happiness he brought her was unparalleled, and she only wanted all of her friends to experience that same level of joy themselves. If they needed a little nudge on that, well this Amy was more than happy to oblige. And the fact that Cass enjoyed a little gossip and match-making himself only bode well for them. They were always down with another couple to hang out with. And, secretly, Amy hoped for the strain that existed between Cass and Anna due to his dumb, alpha male behavior would eventually be put aside for something akin to friendship. She could hardly think of two people less hardwired to hold grudges than Anna and Cass, after all. “I’ll keep you posted,” she said with a wink, snatching a piece of tomato and popping it in her mouth to munch on. Her appetite had also suffered some changes with the growing happiness: her love of food and intake growing in proportion with the smiles on her face. Playfully, she smacked Cass’s behind when he stole a golden shrimp, mostly because he hadn’t offered her a bite and not that he’d done it in the first place. “Hey, thief, leave something for the rest of us.”

Oblivious to all that was going through Cass’s mind, Amy walked over to the fridge and pulled out some lettuce and got to sprinkling some more on top of the salad bowl, nodding her head eagerly. “They are. And I am, for them. Sophie’s gonna love having a sibling, too,” she added with a soft smile, thinking about the little girl, the spitting image of Iris (and Harlow, Andrew’s sister, as most people agreed). The trip down memory lane was not uncommon for them, usually one to bring them joy as they reveled in all the obstacles they’ve overcome with time, but in this particular instance Amy wasn’t entirely sure which conversation he was referring to. “Which one was it?” She wondered idly, adding a dash of olive oil to the salad. “We’ve had a few, you know.”

How his girlfriend managed to be sexy and adorable at the same time, Cass didn't know. But she did it effortlessly, much the way she had since the first time she'd fully relaxed around him, a memory that he cherished. She winks at him, sampling their dinner wares, and his heart makes like a helium balloon once more, a reaction that only Amy and Hudson seemed to easily draw forth from him. He receives the butt slap with a chuckle, inwardly still pleased she thought he had a cute butt. Everyone liked compliments after all, and Cass was no exception. "I'd like to see you make me. Don't judge me for trying to make sure my half of dinner is good, okay?" The tall man responds with a quirk up of his lips, light catching on his sky blue eyes. Two chews and a quick swallow and Cass can tell that they're done, moving the pan to an unused and unoccupied burner, turning off the one he'd used, wiping his hands on her dishtowels. As happy as he is for Sophie having a sibling, Cass's mind is on other things now, striving to explain a subject he's not sure how to bring up. Especially since Amy didn't seem to know where he was headed. Leaning against her counter, arms folded, Cass rubbed a hand on his bearded chin. "We have had a few." His deep voice concedes. "But specifically, when we talked about kids. Wanting them or not. Remember?" He did. Even if the memory did not kill the daydreams of a family that his mind liked forming, Cass did. Never let it be said that the man doesn't listen.

“You know I’d do it and probably succeed so don’t test me, Kingston,” she said pointedly, following her warning with a wink. Between the two of them it was difficult to say whose competitive streak was worse, and they tended to like making games out of these challenges that rose out of nowhere. Many a time it lead them right into each other’s naked embrace and for some much appreciated sexual release, and who could blame her for inching them closer to that divine ledge? Especially when it would steer them far away from the topic Cass was trying to start, sending her heart into a frenzied, hammering pace, and sinking her gut to the soles of her feet. Kids. Damn it, she really had to bring up Iris and the baby on the way? Cass and Amy had gone three months without tackling the subject and she was more than fine with it going unaddressed for many months to come, but she knew Cass had other plans. The look in his eyes, the cold hard steel behind the azure of his gaze always a reminder she couldn’t weasel her way out easily. “I remember,” she nodded her head, grabbing the salad and taking it to the small table by the wall where two plates had already been set for them. “It was the first time I’ve had your mother’s strawberry lemonade and it changed my life for good.”

As much as Casfs liked to test her, to see how far she wanted to push things and respond in kind, he didn't want that right now. If she pressed hard enough to distract him, the broad and built man would have caved as he always would, weak at the hands of her dimples and smile. This was a topic that meant something to him, an issue he held close to his soul and meant something to his future. Their future. Even if the two of them didn't like conflict, even if he knew this might not be a topic Amy particularly wanted to talk about. Cass transfers the seafood from the pan into a bowl and follows her, his gaze saying things that his mouth hadn't yet. She tries to change the subject subtly, a compliment that, if she'd heard it, Olivia would glow to hear, but Cass is stubborn. He doesn't want to avoid it. "That it did. I also seemed to remember that you said you couldn't imagine yourself having kids." Amy had also called her life a mess, and that was something that it wasn't now, as she'd gained all sorts of things since then. So sue him if he wanted to know if her plans had changed. Much in the way his had morphed when they'd gotten together. "Do you still feel like that?"

The competitive streak wasn't the only thing they seemed to be tied at. Their stubbornness was also a quality in which they matched each other perfectly, in that they were both so persistent with what they thought and wanted that it was near impossible to break the vicious cycle of back and forth. Amy was reminded of it all yet again when Cass pressed on with the subject of children, even though he must have caught onto her attempts at steering the conversation away from it. Knowing it would be impossible to avoid now, Amy chewed on her lip as she took her seat at the table, noodles already split between their two plates, and she added the shrimp on top of it, biding her time. "I haven't thought about it, Cass. I don't think about it. I'm trying to take my life one step at a time, and not drive myself crazy with plans and thoughts about the future that can only go awry once I think of them." It might have sounded harsh, admitting she still refused thoughts about the future even when they snuck up to her in the middle of the night, especially to the man who could very well be at the center of that future but it was better than lying to him. Better than pulling wool over his eyes about matters she wasn't ready to face only to let him down later on.

If Cass had been an animal, his hackles would had risen at the quiet and yet not so quiet defensiveness in her tone that arrives with her response, delivered only after bought time. Once again, she was cutting off their possibilities, placing a restriction on what their relationship could be. Could grow into. Words drift to him, reminders of a time in a different kitchen when she'd claimed "if they were together". This was a different, far more serious handicap. The thirty two year old man knows the tells of the woman he loves by now, registers the currently being abused lip and lack of eye contact as uncomfortableness and defensiveness, and if it had been another issue, he would have backed down. That day, however, wasn't today. He takes the other seat, dark gold beard framing lips that thinned in a touch of consternation. "I'm not trying to make any plans. But we can't even talk about it?" He presses slightly, gripping his fork. "It's not a step we'd take anytime soon, if at all, so no plans are going awry. I want to talk about it. At least open the discussion." Yes, Cass is pushing harder that he normally would. But, also, yes, he doesn't agree that she gets to single handedly end their conversation about it because she doesn't want to to think of the future because dammit Cass does. 50% of who'd be sharing that future wants to know.

Gone was the lighthearted atmosphere that prevailed when they were preparing the meal. They laughed, joked, talked about things that didn't seem to matter but still needed to be said, and Amy relished in those easy moments. Her shoulders were relaxed, her smile quick, and there were no worry lines etched into her forehead. But a weight, dark and heavy, hovered above them like a rainy cloud as Cass pressed on with his questions, and panic rose in her chest, swift and consuming as ever. The future, that darkness she could never see into, not even a glimpse. No, that, was a lie. She could glimpse shapes and silhouettes now that Cass brought life into her life, but she was still feeling her way through the dark, keeping her eyes shut closed. Was it loyalty to Brooks, or was it maybe fear of losing it all once again? The white picket fence, the plans for the future, the children and a storied life she would share with them? Laughter wheezed out from her chest, near hysteric and defensive. "Cass, come on. We've been together for three months. Are you not happy with how things are?"

Now, a bit, he realizes how naive it was for him to think their problems would fade after they said those all important three words. I love you was the beginning of new stages, new conversations, ones that Amy did not want to talk about or have for reasons that still eluded Cass's mind. Would he have to run into another burning building to open the possibility of kids? Did she always need a huge event to prompt accepting or embracing whatever next step they could take? Amy’s laugh is too high pitched, too strained, a far cry from the light giggles she'd been making not fifteen minutes before. He's silent for a moment, blue eyes locked on her face and the gaze that wouldn't meet his, a breathe pushed roughly out between his lips. "Yes, I'm happy-" Although I'd be happier if you were the home I always got to go back to. "-but that's not why I want to to talk about kids. I'm not saying let's go make a baby right now, I just want to know if you've pictured a future with us that includes another. I want to have the conversation, even if you clearly don't want to." It sounds more bullheaded than Cass thinks he means, but it's out there now, fingers wrapping too tightly around the utensil. Somewhere in the back of his head a little voice asks if this is a fight and if this has been the longest they've gone without one of these. And if they'd ever stop coming. His heart stuffs a gag on that voice’s mouth, but the question lurks, remaining, if Cass ever decided to acknowledge it existed.

When they started preparing the meal, the delicious smells of food wafting through the air, Amy worried they did not buy enough for the both of them. She was so hungry, ready to wolf down more than her share of the meal, and her stomach made it known more than once during the cooking stages. But now that they were sat at the table, the food cooling on their plates, her insides were all knotted up, twisted in ways that would prevent food from ever reaching its destination. Anxiety seized her gut, clenched its cold, hard fist around her throat, and despite the pleasantly warm temperature of the apartment, her palms were cold and clammy. The idea of putting food into her mouth had never been less appealing than in that moment as Cass, once more in the course of their relationship, tried to move them forward and Amy stomped her feet stubbornly in place. No, I'm not moving, the stubborn, petulant child within her wanted to scream as Cass pulled her forward closer to where he was at. The proclamation of his happiness didn't feel real whatsoever when uttered in that frustrated tone, and she caught lightning flash in the stormy blue of his gaze, making her aware of the nerves she struck. Would they ever move at a pace that worked for the both of them, or were they doomed to taking one step forward and two steps back every time they wanted to make progress? Though, in all honesty, it felt like Amy was taking her steps but Cass was leaping  over his own and expecting her to follow suit.

"Of course I've pictured a future, Cass," she snapped, setting down her fork and instantly regretting it. Without the metal object to close around, her hands now trembled, begging for something to steady them. "But a future that's within the next few months. The 'what are we going to do for Valentine's Day' kind of future. Or 'where our next trip might be'. Kids? I haven't thought that far ahead, and I'd love it if you didn't push me on this one and let me come to it in my own time, for once." Another regret, one she couldn't take back, no matter how harsh the words.

In her own time. The last time he'd stepped back, let her have the reins, all of it, it had been months before he'd seen her again in any sort of positive way. It was easy to lose sight of those cold weeks, his downward spiral and painfully slow climb back up in the face of the happiness he'd been experiencing recently, leagues more than he'd ever thought he'd have. Said happiness wasn't quite in the room right now, an example of looking a gift horse in the mouth and pushing to talk about things that perhaps a more sensible person could see might be too soon, but that was not the man at the table with Amy. This one had more clear-headed thoughts blocked by the fog of a ticking clock, each tick a reminder of the time slipping out of his grasp. Their food quickly becomes a background to the discussion they're sharing, forgotten on their plates after all the warm and golden feelings that had surrounded the making of it now nowhere to be fine. A slice of flint slides into his clear blues when Amy moves straight from panicked to accusatory and testy, his legs shifting uncomfortably under the table and lips thinning out more. She wasn't going to make this easy, he could see now. A prickly situation he had no one but himself to blame for, blame that would for certain make itself known once the red had faded. "Okay. So if it's in your own time, when is that? Next month? Next year? I'm not asking you for promises or definitive plans, I just want to open the goddamn conversation." He exclaims, frustration curling up into words, letting go of the fork so he can fold his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry I don't give you enough time to respond to the steps my heart is taking without you. And thanks, so much, for letting me know that a month is the farthest you can plan in advance with me, even after everything."

Wasn't it enough, all the steps she'd taken to recovery, all the effort she put into getting better, into being ready for something good in her life? It wasn't all for Cass, no, the majority was for herself, but he still played a significant role in the ordeal. He was the nudge she needed to break out of the prison she's held the key to all this time, he was the one who made her feel like she was worth all that she had denied herself, and yet every time she offered him an inch, he wanted to take a mile it felt. Perhaps it was necessary, otherwise they would not have moved at all, but was it really this urgent? To talk about children and a future three months into a relationship? Yes, it's been going on for longer than that if she dared to consider the weeks of happiness preceding the darkness of the late summer, but it was still the speed of light compared to what she was used to. Cass barricaded his heart folding his arms on his chest, and the thin line of his mouth threatened to swallow his lips entirely as he processed her insensitive words. How did they get there, when not ten minutes ago they were smiling? Was it all called for, or did something altogether different elevate the stress levels and bring them to the ledge far sooner than it would have under any other circumstances?

Amy shook her head, a humorless laugh parting her mouth. "Don't do that, don't put words in my mouth. I said months, and even that is leagues beyond what I had been capable of doing not too long ago. Why can't that be enough? I'm not you, Cass. My dreams right now are about staying sober, staying clean, keeping my job and my life in line, being happy with you just as we are. I can't put a timestamp on when I'll be ready, it's not something I can predict. And what if I'm never ready? You want to open a discussion, but you don't want to hear that I might never be in the same place as you are, and I don't want to tell you that."

Amy wasn't wrong. You'd have to pry Cass's mouth open and drag the words from his lips if you tried to make him admit this at this very moment, but she'd made leaps and bounds from the person he'd known even six months ago. The Amy he'd met at that fence side had grown into this one before him, now possessing a normally happy aura if he was involved and much more open heart wise and life wise, the journey from accusing him of making her forget Brooks to willingly, occasionally, telling him she loved him, one she'd done with him at her side. He, however, had had none of the romantic hang ups that she did. He hadn't realized it then, but he'd wanted to fall in love, thanked all the good luck that gods had given him for this incredulous chance to drop in his lap, this incredible woman that he was a goner for. Even now, when she was starting to get on his nerves. He didn't want to wait anymore. Was this really too big of a thing to ask? "You only specifically mentioned Valentines, which isn't even a month away. It's barely three weeks away.  I didn't say you were me," he insists, with exasperation, gripping his other bicep, brows an unhappy goldenrod line.  "You don't know all my dreams. I share those dreams with you. I also want you sober and clean, kicking ass at your job and in your new apartment." The apartment you chose that's farther from me than I'd like. "Why can't talking about kids be an achievable dream? No matter what I want to hear, all I want from you is the truth. If we don't have a discussion the conversation is dead before we even get to it. I don't need you to predict a time that you're going to want to have kids, I just want you to agree to talk about it. Why are you so afraid to talk about it, Amy?" A slip of the tongue, but a tell all the same. One that said that this, Cass and Amy at her apartment, dinner abandoned between them, was a fight. One far unlike the others they'd had.

Amy. If there had been any confusion before about the argument they were having, it was all gone now with the nickname falling in his deep timbre like a wedge that inflated and grew between them. Somehow, when he helped her move in a few weeks ago, carrying the sofa that was sitting opposite them now, she felt closer to him with the chunky piece of furniture blocking her view than she did across the table from him now, with nothing but their sheltering arms between. His full name fought to be heard once or twice during her bouts of talking, but Cass was the first to break the ice and take a sizable bite of her heart with it. This was an argument, one they haven’t seemed to have in a while, but the good streak couldn’t go on forever. The puzzle pieces had all began to fall into place and it was only a matter of time before one of them stuck out like a sore thumb. It only caught her off guard that it was the Cass piece of it all that did that, the one she felt so certain would give her no more grief after the holidays and the trip that liberated a confession of her feelings from her chest. How wrong she was, though...

“No, I said Valentine’s and trips we might take as in places we’d see together, experiences we’d have together. I’m sorry if that doesn’t satisfy your criteria of thoughts about the future, Cassidy.” She caught the ball he threw at her and was ready to serve it back over the net for him, the food before them forgotten in the light of their disagreement. “No, if we don’t have a discussion the conversation is waiting for a time when we’re both ready to have it. It’s not dead, it’s just not being forced on anyone who can’t fathom the idea of kids right now. You know why I’m afraid. And three months with you, no matter how incredible, can’t uproot a decade and a half’s worth of worry and fear. Until I’m happy with myself, feeling good in my skin, I don’t want to think about a child that I’ll put my worries and anxieties on. I’ve made enough messes in my life. A child— if I ever have one— will not be another.”

How did their relationship manager to mirror Jekyll and Hyde? The happy, loved up and content versions of themselves were Cass and Amelia, more laughter then they ever thought possible, tender and hungry kisses, no weight on their hearts. That was not the existence Cassidy and Amy got to enjoy, tongues that mirrored knives, physical separation that felt like an ocean of choppy and dangerous water between them, stubbornness and hurt. Love ran thick through all versions of them, an emotion that could never be removed from them, not any more. Cass didn't know why their periods of intense happiness tended to be punctuated by these, fights, big ones about their fundamental differences and all small ways that they didn't fit that grew so overwhelmingly big. He just hoped that one day, they'd stop. Please. He wants to be happy with his girl, that's it. Rationally, he knew that these things happened - two people who'd been on their own for more than a decade couldn't adjust to major positive life upheaval without having some bumps and bruises. This bruise, however, felt like it'd be hurting for longer than Cass wanted.

"Okay I didn't - I didn't say it didn't-" Cass tries to interrupt, mouth snapping shut when Amy calls him by his full name, shooting his dreams (and peace) in the face with each statement. The bearded blondes bottom teeth press into his upper one, unimpressed as he nods slowly. "So what I'm actually hearing is, in this future you've seen for yourself, it involves you only when a kids in the picture, and that's why you don't want it. You think you'd mess up a kid, and in this scenario you'd be alone, and I'm nowhere to be found. You can have that conversation with yourself, but not with me. Great. Awesome." So, so much more wants to spill out. Meaner words, ones he doesn't mean, that have the metallic tang of C.K.'s influence in them, ones he never wants to say, so he decides to take himself out of the situation. Cass moves his hair back from the table, legs scraping for a second on the floor, an uncomfortable noise that doesn't make the moment better. "Life doesn't wait for you to not be a mess, Amy. So you're a mess. I'm a mess, too! You know better than most, better than everyone the issues I had and still have that no one wanted to see before you. I was sleepwalking before I met you again. I still have bullshit I'm working through. So do you. I guess I should feel lucky that you're not worried this relationship in going to turn into a mess too," Cass bites out, standing up and striding to the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter. "And no. I don't know why you're afraid because you won't talk to me."

The third to last words kind of explodes out of him, frustration in every line of him. Taking a few deep breaths he braces his hands on the counter, squeezes baby blues shut and counts to three. When Cass opens them, they're clear, mostly, though anger and hurt still swirls through them. "I turn thirty three this year. You turn thirty four. You knew before we started dating, kissing even, that I wanted kids. I don't know how it makes me the asshole, the pusher, to ask that we could at least talk about the vaguest possibility of them. But that's fine," the eldest Kingston continues in a voice that very explicitly says it's not fine.  "We can table this until you're feeling happy and good in your skin, though even at the best points in my life I'm not sure I ever reached both of those goals. We'll wait, like we always do, until you're ready. Or when you think you're going to lose me, whatever seems to come first." Silence rings for a moment too long after that last statement, the  man who'd said it collecting his jacket, mainly because of what Cass hadn't said - that she wouldn't. Just because he didn't say it didn't mean the truth of it wasn't there, that nothing would ever be enough to push him out if her arms and her life, but the glaring lack of it's auditory realization was a slap almost to them both. "I'm going to go, before I say something I'll regret even more."

The oceanic swirl of his irises turned to cold, hard steel as Amy spat her arguments at him without giving him a chance to interject. He wanted to open the discussion, she thought, but had not considered the can of worms that hid just underneath, and now they both had to deal with it on a night when they were supposed to be happy and relaxed. There was no point to the conversation anymore: the walls had been lifted, the bridges drawn, and the fortresses around their hearts were now impenetrable. Their words bounced off the smooth stone like blunt arrows that had nothing to bite with and nothing to bite into: they talked without hearing, listened without understanding, and their minds had been made up even before the other one's voice quieted down. Communication, what Amy thought they could pride themselves on, now escaped them, and logic, too, gave them a wide berth. This was a conversation of two hurt people, each of their insecurities shining through, and as much as Amy wanted to reassure his place in her life, the future she saw but couldn't accept, the wounds he inflicted needed her attention first and foremost.

"And I didn't say that," she insisted, jaws jutting with frustration. "You're hearing what you want to hear, picking and choosing the parts that will support your own arguments." The accusation, the stubborn line of her lips, the surly turn of her eyebrows all made it known how she felt about their disagreement and what he was saying. "I'm not having a kid with anyone else, Cassidy. You're there if it happens, but I don't know what I want for the future, I just know you're a part of it. I want the good parts we've had, not this crap where we have to lock horns and refuse to budge."

Of course, that was a fairytale no reasonable person ever believed in. Nothing good ever came without something bad following it, a stipulation that loomed and stained. If she wanted the good with Cassidy, she would have to accept it came with the bad: with the fights, the unreasonable and rash behavior, the stubborn view on life that so often clashed with her own. It had to be that way. They were their own people, and Amy had been on her own for so long she forgot how to share herself, to open up and invite others in. Didn't really think there was any good for others to glimpse in the first place. Whatever the bone of contention between them in this moment, however, she had to agree that life wouldn't wait for them to sort themselves out before challenging them again, and she swallowed thickly the lump in her throat as Cass pushed himself away from the table and moved into the kitchen. The distance grew, and with it came a cold breeze that sparked worry deep within her guts. Cass had so rarely pulled away like this, it had always been Amy to draw a chasm between them and dare him to cross it, but now the tables have turned and she sat there, dumbfounded. What was she supposed to do?

The moment of dumbstruck confusion passed, however, as he spoke up in a calmer tone, putting it on her. She knew he wanted kids so she shouldn't have started anything if that was never going to change for her? Is that what he was saying? "And you knew I didn't see kids in my future, much like I knew what your vision was, so who's to blame about starting this all, huh?" She couldn't say what propelled her to make that accusation, but it was out there and she couldn't take it back. The more they argued the less she could tell him why, a lot of it coming down to petty spite. He was pushing her out of her comfort zone, and she would much rather drown than give him a logical explanation now, even if she was aware of how terrible it was.

All of that, however, they could have come back from. All of it, save for the last accusation, the grand finale that Cass saved right before the goodbye. Blinking her hazel eyes at him, paralyzed by the slap in the face he had given her, her fists clenched under the table, nails digging so deep into her flesh that the crescent moons would stay for a long time. Silence fell over them as tears pricked her eyes, drowning the swirl of gold and green against her will. "I'm sorry I'm always dragging you down. Sorry that I'm the anchor that keeps you from realizing your happiness. Sorry that my mental state is not good enough to keep up with yours. Maybe you shouldn't waste your time and wait for me." Restless, shaking with unbridled hurt and anger, Amy pushed herself up on her wobbly feet, grabbed the plate of dinner before her and threw it in the sink, untouched food and all. The crash echoed through the suddenly quiet room, ringing in her ears, a melody to accompany the mocking words he had uttered. "I can't imagine what that might be," she shook her head as she passed him, walking around him to get to the bathroom, the last sound she'd give him that night the sound of the key turning in the lock.

The only thing that interrupted the quick, dumbstruck, disbelieving thump of his heart was the crash of her plate in the sink, the catastrophic end to something that had started so bright and warm. He hadn't meant it. Fuck, to go back, to take back the knives their mouths had thrown at each other, hitting each and every sensitive spot with perfect accuracy. As too far as his jab was about them always waiting on her was, so was hers about leaving her behind, ending it with her, a suggestion he'd been sensitive to since the first time she'd pulled so fully away.  The tension in the air thickened and doubled with every moment, right fist holding so tightly to his car keys that his knuckles were white and pain bit into his palm, left fist crumpling the collar of his jacket. Amy disappears into the bathroom, her retreating back and slightly shaking form the last thing he sees, and suddenly it feels like a black hole has been punched in the middle of his chest. Silence reigned but it still didn't cancel the all too loud echo of what had happened, Cass's throat tight and pained. "Fuck." Is all he mutters in his deep voice, gaze dropping to the floor, the last thing he says before heading out her door and slamming it behind him.

[luckilyluculent]

2, 6, 7, 13, 17, 18; Eleanor: 31, 34, 39, 45; Felix: 26, 35, 40; Belsaadi: 36, 38, 43.

This is long as hell so all the answered questions are under the cut

EVERYBODY(as of 5/22/2018)’SQUESTIONS –

#2 – WHAT OC CHARACTER IS/HAS AMENTOR?

The first OC of mine that likedirectly leaps to mind whenever I see the word “mentor” is probably Henry Blake—he’s.One of the many unlisted and not directly on my blog, but his literalprofession is teaching and you don’t get more mentor-y than that! He’s alsotaken people under his wing before directly. Henry was also straight up made asan homage to my first ever like, thought out character (a warrior cat namedFicklestar lmao) and one of the more important things to the character he wasbased on was his role as mentor to a friend’s character. I wanted to keep thatprevalent in all iterations of this character, Henry is just the most recentreally (though he and Ficklestar aren’t even that similar rofl).

I’d also probably categorize myboy Malik as a mentor as well, seeing as he just sort of. Casually adoptseveryone and everything that he comes across. He would definitely like to thinkthat’s more of him just defecting to be a pack leader, but he spends so muchtime teaching others and trying to help them grow that I can’t help but want tolabel him as that. He’d make a great teacher if he wasn’t so busy trying tokeep all of his adopted children safe smh.

#6 – WHAT OC IS THE MOM FRIEND?

Funnily enough, I think thatlabel would go to my character Cat the most. Mostly because he’s the one thattends to take a position of responsibility and look after everyone. Likeliterally, he basically quietly sits back and watches most of the time. But he’salways there with an open ear or shoulder, and because he’s veryobservant/insightful he tends to notice when things are going wrong or ifsomeone needs help. Cat’s also got like, a super strong mama bear streak withthe people that he cares about and though he’s usually very calm, cool andcollected he gets real mad real fast when someone he loves is in trouble.

#7 – WHAT OC REALLY NEEDS THE MOMFRIEND AROUND?

I wanted to give this to Bels—I reallydid, but like I’ve realized that a huge part of Belsaadi’s character narrativeis that I wanted her to learn how to stand on her own. Not just with people,but sometimes in front of them and without them. So this took a little bit morethinking on my part, and I actually think I’m going to land on my character Eleanorfor that.

Eleanor is just very young andnaive! She was prone to making snap decisions that weren’t so great, andDamakos (who I am dubbing the mom friend of that party, sorry Tess) was oftenwho she looked to for guidance when she thought that she needed some. Eleanorneeded someone in general that filled a role of looking after her, and I’vetried playing her outside of her original party and it has just felt odd andincomplete. Maybe I can try again sometimes, but who knows.

#13 – WHICH OCS COMPLIMENT EACHOTHER THE BEST?

HM this is an interestingthought. I don’t often think of my characters as duos or as hanging out—out ofthe D&D squad I’d probably say that Eleanor and Belsaadi would make areally good compliment to one another. Eleanor has enough gentle warmth toreign in the times that Bels tends to dip toward more bloody and not-so-goodsolutions, she’d be very good for keeping Bels firmly “good” aligned to behonest and would be a good force for her to not only look after (and thusfinally take on some responsibility) but also to keep her mindset towardherself more healthy since Eleanor’s not afraid to call people out and steerthem gently into more positive thinking. Bels would be great for Eleanor inthat Bels would probably encourage her to try to consider people’s intentionsmore. She’d let Eleanor flourish in her positivity but would actually probablybe one of the few characters that would try to curb her naivety, using her ownexperiences to guide and steer her straight. So they’d both sort of guide oneanother, which would be lovely in its own way. Bels would also absolutely callEleanor out often on her choice of men, which is something Eleanor needed tbh.

As for the whole Delry crew(which is where the likes of Cat and Henry and Malik are popping up) I wouldlove, absolutely love to have my Jester and Flavius tear shit up together. Youtake my sassy magic-eating demon-boy and mix him with the swashbuckling rogueand I’m sure they’d have some really fun adventures together. They wouldn’tnecessarily compliment each other emotionally (if anything they’d get into alot of trouble together and Jester would aggravate Flav’s want to keep peopleat a playful arm’s length and Flav would aggravate Jester’s issue of notnecessarily caring about others if he doesn’t know them at all). Still! They’dbe a fun like, fighting team in any case. Their physical and magical abilitieswould compliment in fun ways, and I’d love to write it out sometime.

#17 – WHICH OCs DON’T KNOW EACHOTHER, BUT WOULD HATE ONE ANOTHER IF THEY DID?

…Bels would hate my characterStephanie. Steph was the first dnd character I had and lawful evil, and Belswould have just enough insight on her (Steph, even though she was a bard, hadmost of her stats in intelligence) to pick up on the fact that Steph was mostlytrying to manipulate everyone into liking her. That alone would drive Bels upthe wall, but Stephanie’s need to play dumb so consistently that she keepsinformation that could ultimately help others close to her chest unless itbenefits her would make Bels want to wring her neck. Steph wouldn’t care forBelsaadi because she’d call her out all the time, and that would make heruncomfortable and honestly just. Pissed off most of the time.

#18 – WHICH OCs WOULD MAKE THEWORST COUPLE?

[steeples fingers] I.

Huh.

…

Probably my character Gawain andEleanor. Gawain’s basically a paladin housing like 200 ancient evil spiritsinside of him (like Gawain himself would be fine, but not like… the one withthe fun ghosts in him) to protect his brother. He’d probably try to see how farhe could push Eleanor’s want to “save” him by doing truly awful things—first tostrangers, then to her family and the people around her. Eleanor wouldn’t stickaround for the whole thing, but she’d hold out faith for long enough to gethurt and it would… eugh. It’d be bad. Toxic, abusive. Not a good time.

ELEANOR QUESTIONS

# 31 – DOES OC HAVE SIBLINGS? DOTHEY GET ALONG IF THEY DO? DO THEY WISH THEY HAD SOME IF THEY DON’T?

Oh yeah! Eleanor’s the youngestof several siblings and she gets along really well with all of them. In fact,of all my characters Eleanor has the most healthy like, family relationship Iswear. She was using Sending to contact her parents regularly while adventuringon the road, and even sending letters and gifts to other members of her family.I’m fairly certain she’s on good terms with her extended family too tbh.

#34 – WHAT IS SOMETHING UNUSUALOC HAS BONDED WITH SOMEONE OVER?

Perhaps the oddest—and one of myfavorites—thing Eleanor ever did to bond with someone was to dangle off of Theo’sbicep to see how strong he was. This while wearing her full armor by the way.Also her entire friendship with Athrun in general? The fact that he talked inher head constantly when he was a warlock and she was just like “mmkay!” thewhole time basically? It was pretty wild.

#39 – WHO DOES THE OC CONSIDER TOHAVE LEARNED THEIR MOST IMPORTANT LIFE LESSON FROM?

Pelor—yeah she’s that kind ofcleric haha. Eleanor just wouldn’t be Eleanor without Pelor to guide her, it’ssuch a large part of who she is and what she does and what she views as goodthat I honestly can’t even really play her in a game that doesn’t include himin the pantheon. She’d probably follow that up with saying her father—he taughther that being kind was not always easy, it would often—in fact—be the hardestthing she could do, but to embrace her kindness because it was part of who shewas.

#40 – HOW MUCH DO OC’S FRIENDSKNOW ABOUT THEIR PRIVATE LIFE?

Eleanor is pretty open withpeople that she loves and cares about! She tends to tell those she trusts whenshe has a crush on someone, and has never been the sort that likes to lie. Shedoes, however, often hide when she’s not feeling happy or good about something—it’sher job to be the happy cheerful one after all! She’s their sunshine! Sometimesshe feels like she has to put aside her fears because of that.

FELIX QUESTIONS

#26 – DOES OC HAVE A HARD OR EASYTIME MAKING FRIENDS?

Well, considering that during aone shot Felix very warmly convinced two guards of the place we were sneakinginto that he was a recruit and ended up mopping the floors for a good portion ofthe boss battle—Felix makes friends very easily. Having a high charisma helps,but Felix is just a warm and friendly person in general. He rarely dislikespeople, and when he does he tries to see their point of view before stickingwith it. He’s pretty endearing too, even if he’s a bit of a dope.

#35 – WHAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANTRELATIONSHIP IN OC’S LIFE?

This is a little hard to say—currentlyI’d probably state his mother, though his friend Cass is edging up there to behonest. He’s always been supported and loved by her, and she did a lot for himwhen he was transitioning in just being a great loving force. She didn’t evenreally blame him for when the house burnt down in the end! He cares very muchabout her and wants her to stay safe, no matter where he is and what he ends updoing.

#40 – WHO MOTIVATES OC?

Is it odd to say himself? Felixisn’t a selfish boy by any means, but he believes in growing and learning andbeing the very best you can be! He doesn’t like to let things get him down forvery long, and is quick to motivate himself and push himself forward when hefeels he might end up in a slump. Though he can be sad or upset like manypeople and faces a lot of situations that make him worry, he wants to besomeone good and help people out!

BELSAADI’S QUESTIONS:

#36 – HOW HAS OC BEEN AFFECTED BYTHEIR FRIENDSHIPS?

Bels has changed so much as a character since she firststarted her journey—genuinely being loved and cared about by other people was ahuge factor in that. Bels actually kind of cares about herself now? Which isutterly wild to me. She cares abouther future, and what she does. She doesn’t want to throw her life away but livefor the people that she loves and cares about—and for herself. Which is huge. Bels started out filled to thebrim with self-loathing, half certain that the reason she was abandoned andtreated how she was was her fault. She’s grown in confidence since then, butalso in the person that she is. She’s not just someone who can turn into a bearnow, she knows her own flaws but she’s aware of her strengths too (and not justthe physical ones).

Also, god can I talk about whatwould have happened if Rowan died? She loved Rowan, Belsaadi adored Rowan. It’sthe strongest example of platonic love I have literally ever written in mywhole life. I love them and their relationship to pieces, and for a long timeif Rowan died Bels would have just. Stopped. I couldn’t imagine her withoutRowan at all.

And then I thought, but Rowanwould not like that.

And then Bels started thinking Rowan would not like that. Bels lost a lot ofpeople on her adventures—first Darth, her sort of adopted brother Meero andeven her very first friend Nilus. Rowan was the last of the main party still left with Bels, and I knew losing herwould break her heart—but it wouldn’t make Bels break herself. Or breakentirely. Or just stop trying. Because Bels lost so much she finally learned what it meant to lose people you loved.

She learned that you need to keepliving and carrying on the pieces of them with you. You try to be cautious likeDarth, but sometimes you’re reckless like Meero, you laugh like Nilus whenthings seem darkest. She learned that you’re all at once the people you loveand your own self, and that she—Belsaadi—deserved to live even if she lost itall. That she could get sad, get angry, but she could never let it poison her. Because ultimately what all thosepeople, the people that loved her, would want is for her to keep livinghappily.

Anyway. So yeah, she changed alot. My Bels, I was proud of her by the time that campaign couldn’t continue,even if we never reached the full end of her story.

#38 – HOW HAS OC BEEN AFFECTED BYTHEIR ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP(S) OR LACK THEREOF?

Ah. I talk a lot about howBelsaadi falls in love easily—far easier than any of my other characters. I don’toften consider that trait a flaw, but when you go to the extent that Bels did thenI definitely do. Belsaadi was so, sodesperate for love. Even after she got it she was always clawing for it ineverything she needed—and Bels, she had a lot of love to give, but she was desperate. And that was a character flaw. Bels had a lot ofromantic relationships that were either barely touched or regrets that shenever acted on. It made her very prone to leaping headfirst into it. She lovedthe idea of love.

#43 – HOW DOES OC MEET MOSTPEOPLE?

Lately? In moments where shefeels like her life is on the line unfortunately. Or when someone else’s lifeis on the line. Whether she’s stepping through portals to answer misguidedcalls for help or if she’s trying to keep herself and her friends alive—a lotof her adventure has been GO GO GO. There haven’t been many lasting friendsthat she’s made where she was feeling something below the level of EXTREMESTRESS. Guess that’s what you get for trying to save the world.