#a dramatic reading by cassidy
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saw a tiktok saying like "the urge to go through his phone and search your name in his messages 😫" and EVERY comment was like "did this and hurt my own feelings 😭" "couldnt sleep for days after i did it 😭" "the way this actually destroyed me 😭"
putting aside the fact that you shouldn't go through people's phones and private conversations without permission. I know if I were to do this on my partner's phone that I would only find positive things or at worst, them being worried about me when I'm having a hard time. BUT to give the benefit of the doubt, I was curious what my partner would find if they were to search their name in my phone. Here are the worst messages I could find:
plus countless texts to my roommates asking if I can invite them over lol
anyway, it's important to find people who adore you. If you suspect they're shit talking behind your back, it's probably time to move on.
#a dramatic reading by cassidy#the girl at the rock show#this may just be me gushing about my partner but yall deserve to have partners you wanna gush about too 😭
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In “The Parrot Caper”, the climax of the episode involves Butch jumping onto the helicopter the other Sundance Kids have waiting for him. This is a pretty standard climax for this show, but what makes it stand out to me in particular was that once he’s on the helicopter, he makes a comment about how he hopes he never has to do something like that again.
This seemed like a strange thing for him to say. After all, he does stunts like that throughout the series with no issue, and he even knew he was going to have to do that jump since he was the one who planned to have the helicopter there in the first place.
The only other scene I could think of from the show that was close to that was in “Double Trouble”, when Butch said he was unable to make a motorcycle jump because he wasn’t Evel Knievel. This was even more strange than the line from “The Parrot Caper” to me because it was a complete lie. The climax of “The Counterfeiters”, which was only two episodes before “Double Trouble”, had Butch successfully do an “impossible” motorcycle jump to catch the episode’s villain. Butch can, in fact, canonically make those extreme motorcycle jumps.
I was trying to figure out what these scenes said about Butch’s character (since they seemed so different from his usual portrayal), and I think I’ve figured it out.
See, what these two scenes have in common is that he wasn't alone. In “The Parrot Caper” he was carrying the titular parrot with him during the jump, and in “Double Trouble” he had Merilee on the motorcycle with him. Thus, it wasn’t that Butch was scared of the stunts themselves, but that others would get hurt. He hopes that he never has to risk another’s life during a jump again, and he can’t make a dangerous motorcycle jump if there’s a chance his passenger would get hurt.
Thinking about the scenes like that, that Butch doesn’t want/isn’t willing to endanger anyone else, they actually fit well with his character. In most (but admittedly not all) episodes Butch is getting into dangerous situations on his own, making sure his friends either stay behind entirely or are far enough away from the villains to be safe. There are also instances of him prioritizing his friends’ safety over his own, like in “The Super Sub” when he made sure his friends got in the escape pods before he did.
Basically: Performing dangerous stunts? Butch is perfectly fine with that, he does so regularly (and frankly based on his choices of causal activities he probably enjoys doing so to some extent). Performing dangerous stunts when a life other than his own is in danger? That’s where it becomes too much for him.
Though, with that said, I do still wonder why Butch decided to lie to Merilee in “Double Trouble”. My guess is that he was concerned that if he told her that he couldn’t do the jump with her there, that she would misinterpret it as an insult against her. Despite him generally prioritizing their safety over his own, Butch isn’t actually very direct/open about those feelings, tending to express them in terms of responsibility/the mission instead. So perhaps if he had told her “I can’t make the jump with you here”, though he would mean it as “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you”, it could have been misinterpreted as “You’re a burden to me”.
#textpost#butch cassidy and the sundance kids#actually tagging this post since it's like kinda sorta a character analysis#i've been thinking about this since i watched the parrot episode and i've finally typed it up#the read more makes it seem more dramatic than it is though it's just a long post lol
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So we've got:
Norm (bless him, what little I've seen of this man so far he's been a gift) not taking Wayne's shit.
Marla being very clear on her priorities (I'm assuming practical, both in terms of keeping people alive and having video proof that a gd demon was involved so the entire crew can't be written off as lying, and creative in terms of having a source of inspiration for later).
Dan not wanting to even consider that assumed family tree.
...but is now being a little shit about it.
Blue Devil #1
And Eddie fanboying while Nebiros tries to play whack-a-mole with Dan.
...Yeah, Eddie's a little bit of an adrenaline junkie. Deeeeefinitely not surprising that he wound up becoming Kid Devil.
#fira reads Kid Devil#Dan Cassidy#Eddie Bloomberg#Blue Devil#Kid Devil#Marla Bloomberg#Sharon... girl... I get that you're (justifiably) concerned#but I think you went a little too hard into 'dramatic actress' here#everybody else is freaking out#and meanwhile Eddie's just 'This is the COOLEST!!! GET HIM DAN! KICK HIM IN THE SPLEEN!!!'#Sharon Scott#Norm Paxton
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A girl can get somewhere in spite of stringy hair
or even just a bit bowed at the knees
if she can show a faultless…personality!
—“Personality,” Johnny Mercer and the Pied Pipers (1946)
It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’
#26 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding V
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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own
Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:
Notes:
ohhhhh my god why did i make this script so long my hand hurts this took forever aaaaagh
Welcome to the Lucky 38! This is a script that has remained basically the same for a long time but went through COUNTLESS extremely small rewrites over the course of production just to really nail Mr. House's dialogue. He's a long-winded guy, this whole issue is basically just him doing monologues, and I wanted to make sure it was all interesting and non-repetitive. I think I took out at least three uses of "merely" from the first draft.
One of the biggest production decisions of this issue was whether or not to cut the scene with Agnes and Cass and Victor, which immediately follows the end of the previous issue. The reason to include it was because it very necessarily established the change in location from the Vegas Strip to the Lucky 38 penthouse, which would have been jarring otherwise; the reason to exclude it was that it the issue was already extremely long and I thought opening right on Mr. House would have been more impactful. Ultimately, I did keep it, which was a good decision, but only because of the literally issue-saving idea to convey it as closed-circuit television footage instead of actual panels. Every single attempt at overlaying them with the lead-in to Mr. House was way too busy, but that idea really tied the page together like a nice rug.
And lastly, the framing device of the tarantula and the tarantula hawk was actually an extremely late addition to the comic. I had already finished the first three pages when I thought of it. My problem was that Mr. House's constant monologuing and Agnes' sad expressions got pretty repetitive. I needed something to break the action up while adding thematic heft and artistic variety. I've become a real enthusiast for wasps and tarantulas over the last couple months, so this one really was just a stroke of luck. It took only minimal revisions to make room for the framing device, with the most dramatic change being the complete replacement of the last page (which was originally just a splash page of the Lucky 38 in Vegas; bookending the first and last pages is so much better). So you see, the only reason for weaving a scene into this issue of a skittish desert-wanderer getting paralyzed and dragged toward a certain demise by a predator almost perfectly evolved to destroy it was just that I like bugs a lot. That's the only reason, yep.
Original Pencils:
Due to all of the photo-collage in the final version of the comic, there's a lot of panels and details that I (thankfully!) didn't have to draw myself. Sorry that the pencil isn't blue on the last three pages, I've been on the move for the holidays so they got scanned in grayscale by accident.
I did experiment with drawing the tarantula framing device myself, but ultimately went with the photo-collage method because the artistic juxtaposition actually made it much more readable when interspersed with the proceedings in the Lucky 38.
Transcript:
EXT. DESERT OUTSIDE OF NEW VEGAS. The city glitters in the distance, nestled between the shadows of mountains, with the spire of the LUCKY 38 towering above all else.
In the wilderness, a TARANTULA emerges from its burrow.
EXT. THE NEW VEGAS STRIP. On closed-circuit television monitors, a SECURITRON ROBOT approaches AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY, saying
VICTOR: Well howdy, partner! Fancy meetin' again here in Vegas!
CASS: What the fuck?
AGNES: Victor?
Unlike the usual police units, VICTOR's robotic "face" is that of a cowboy.
VICTOR: And heck, ya clean up nice! Sure lookin' a lot better now than when I rustled ya outta the bone orchard back in Goodsprings*--
CAP: *As was explained to Agnes way back in IKROAH #2. --Lou
VICTOR: --so how's about ol' Vic skips the rigamarole, huh? 'Fore all my yappin' makes ya want to go back, heh-heh-heh! I'm the welcome wagon, see. I'm to come and collect ya.
CASS: Agnes--
VICTOR: Boss wants t'see you, is what I'm sayin'.
AGNES: Boss?
VICTOR: Only of all of Vegas, friend!
CASS: Agnes.
MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA crawls beneath the starlight.
VICTOR: So why don't we mosey on over to the Lucky 38? And your good pal can come along, too!
CASS: I need to know what the fuck is going on, right now.
AGNES: I...I don't know.
VICTOR: And y'know, boss ain't ever let a soul inside before, least for not as long as I've been rollin' around on my spurs, so this ain't just an everyday social call, mind...
On the closed-circuit television monitors, VICTOR escorts AGNES and CASS to the entryway of the LUCKY 38.
VICTOR: ...but heck, I reckon ya'll oughta get along like franks on a fire! So come on! Lift's in the lobby here, and up to the top floor--and we can get the formalities out of the way before ya'll get [cut off]
INT. THE LUCKY 38 PENTHOUSE.
AGNES stands awestruck, looking upward, bathed in electronic green light. With horror, she ekes out a single question.
AGNES: ...what are you?
???: A "Hello" would have been preferable, but it'll take more than a crude faux pas to tarnish this moment. Who I am, Agnes--
What AGNES is looking at is a gigantic SUPERCOMPUTER and terminal, flanked by closed-circuit television monitors and guarded on both sides by SECURITRON police units. On the supercomputer's massive screen is the green-lit image of a face. The face
MR. HOUSE: --is ROBERT EDWIN HOUSE. The President, CEO, and sole proprietor of New Vegas--and more to the point, the intended recipient of a long delayed package.
AGNES: Oh, you...you mean the platinum chip?
MR. HOUSE: Correct. It's a...very precious artifact of the old world.
MR. HOUSE: My world, once.
In the back of the room, beyond AGNES, is an oil painting of MR. HOUSE, standing outside in front of what must have been a very large robot.
MR. HOUSE: In that world, I was the founder of RobCo Industries--a titan of innovation. We created a litany of robotic solutions for diverse markets, such as the Securitrons that you see here, and even a line of consumer-grade devices like the wrist-mounted Pip-Boy. But the platinum chip was, more than any other, my design. It was my vision.
MR. HOUSE: But it never left the factory in which it was originally made. Before it could even cool off from its assembly...we had the Great War. An international, thermonuclear bombardment of unimaginable power that annihilated the world in all of two hours.
MR. HOUSE: But not the entire world. Not Vegas. Not my Paradise. From my fortress of the Lucky 38, I saw to that. But as for the rest of the world, and my platinum chip--it took generations.
MR. HOUSE: First for the scarce remnants of humanity to crawl out from under their rocks, and for the world to at least resemble a functioning society again in which to do trade. And then for the work itself--of countless scavengers, treasure-seekers, and the like, all contracted to comb over the wreckage of Sunnyvale. It cost millions of caps, and later, New California dollars. And a not insignificant piece of my pre-war fortune as well. I, quite literally, moved mountains.
MR. HOUSE: I do not believe in providence, Agnes, but I do believe in destiny. How else to explain it? It was pristine when it was found. Neither the bombs nor the passage of time had so much as scuffed its sheen. But still...its value far transcended the mere market price of pure platinum.
MR. HOUSE: Amusingly, despite the discovery, I was still only as close to acquiring the chip as I had been originally in 2077. A final ordeal remained for me: how to ensure the safety of the platinum chip en route to its destination, from Sunnyvale to Vegas, without broadcasting its preciousness to thieves, armies, and raiders--or worse, to heavily armed fetishists for pre-war technology like the Brotherhood of Steel?
MR. HOUSE: Misdirection. Through a network of anonymous liaisons, I contracted the Mojave Express for a batch of deliveries, all superficially similar knick-knacks, to various intermediaries of myself. All but one of the orders were totally worthless decoys. But your identity as the carrier of the one genuine item was somehow compromised, leading to you getting attacked, and to the second disappearance of the chip.
MR. HOUSE: But look around you. Look where you are. You've made it, haven't you?
AGNES, still staring up at the visage of MR. HOUSE on-screen, doesn't respond. She frowns, nervous. The SECURITRONS guarding MR. HOUSE observe her stoically.
MR. HOUSE: Let me clarify: I had nothing to do with Benny's ambush. Heavens no! It goes completely against my interests. It would have been a perfectly quotidian day's work for you if not for his, and I stress, unexpected involvement. The platinum chip...belies its significance. For Benny to have not only discovered its delivery route but possibly enough of that significance to motivate such an act, this constituted a very troubling breach of my security. And I had been looking into it...but in a way, the issue seems to have resolved itself. Hm?
MR. HOUSE: A wild card. Now removed from the deck.
AGNES' gaze sinks to the floor.
MEANWHILE, a small shadow blots out the starlight in the desert outside of Vegas. It flies over the exploring TARANTULA.
AGNES looks back up at MR. HOUSE.
AGNES: I killed him.
HOUSE: So you did. I only wish that we could have spoken before you went rogue on my former protégé: if this story breaks, I can grant you amnesty, but not without controversy. And your infamy as an assassin could make our further arrangements quite difficult.
AGNES: Um...I didn't think there would be more to it than delivering the--
MR. HOUSE: Oh! Of course, of course! My apologies. Two hundred years of anticipation and yet I'm still getting ahead of myself. Well--would you mind? I've been waiting a long time for my mail.
The SECURITRON closest to AGNES wheels forward with its claw outstretched. AGNES reaches her fingers into a pocket beneath the belt of her dress to produce it: the PLATINUM CHIP. She holds it in her hand for a brief moment.
MEANWHILE, the shadow descends; the TARANTULA HAWK engages the TARANTULA.
AGNES relinquishes the PLATINUM CHIP to the SECURITRON.
MR. HOUSE: Thank you--it's a relief to pay for this chip for the final time.
The SECURITRON inserts the PLATINUM CHIP into a slot in MR. HOUSE'S supercomputer, feeding it into the drive with a CLIK.
MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA is fighting the TARANTULA HAWK.
From behind AGNES, another SECURITRON presents her with a stack of NEW CALIFORNIA REPUBLIC DOLLARS, which she gingerly takes in her hand and looks over.
MR. HOUSE: And I trust that you're satisfied with the agreed-upon compensation from the delivery contract, yes?
AGNES: Yeah, it's...it's fine...I'll be going now. Thanks.
MR. HOUSE: Oh? But you've only just arrived. I insist that you make yourself at home.
SFX: KZZSZZZTTT
The faces on the screens of the SECURITRONS in MR. HOUSE'S penthouse suddenly change from policemen to soldiers. AGNES recoils and tries to step away.
AGNES: H-hey, uh--
MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA HAWK pierces the underbelly of the TARANTULA with its stinger.
SECURITRONS surround AGNES.
MR. HOUSE: You are the first guest ever through the doors of the Lucky 38, you know. Nobody has so much as checked a coat inside since the war, so this meeting confers you a significant level of privilege...and inevitable celebrity. The people of Vegas have always gossiped, after all. Many have even clawed at the door desperately with dreams of being where you now stand. Surely you can comprehend how this compulsion to leave after such a deliberate and remarkable invitation risks considerable insult--to both myself and my citizenry? And very deliberate this invitation was. Don't you realize: if handing off my package was all for which you were needed, why wouldn't I have just had Victor relieve you of the chip outside? No, no, you see, as necessary as its acquisition was, the chip is ultimately just a key, for unlocking a new frontier...of possibilities.
MR. HOUSE: Possibilities for prosperity, peace, and technological advancement that haven't been seen in two hundred years. Possibilities greater than anything the New California Republic or Caesar's Legion could dream of, let alone achieve, by playing pretend in the clothes of their forebearers and convincing everyone else that it's statecraft. Possibilities--which if they key is turned by human hands--become certainties.
AGNES (a whisper): Are you not human?
MR. HOUSE: Don't let the video screens and computer terminals fool you: I am a living human. No less so than you. I just live with a particular set of, well...handicaps.
AGNES: You said you'd waited hundreds of years to--
MR. HOUSE: One could argue that the world has been waiting hundreds of years for this moment. Waiting for me. For the chip. For the long-dormant doors of the Lucky 38 to finally open, to a single and specially ordained individual: you, Agnes. And there are tremendous things waiting for us, waiting for us to accomplish them, together. I certainly couldn't do them with Benny. What do you say?
MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA has become completely paralyzed by the TARANTULA HAWK'S venom. The TARANTULA HAWK seizes its prey.
AGNES: ...no.
MR. HOUSE: I'm sorry--"No?"
AGNES: Yes--I mean, no. No! I don't want to help you! I...
Tears well in AGNES' eye.
AGNES: ...I just want to go back home.
MR. HOUSE: ...I see. Hmm.
MR. HOUSE: How do I put this in a way you'll understand?
MR. HOUSE: The die is cast.
AGNES, crying, looks up at MR. HOUSE again. Fear bulges on her face.
MR. HOUSE: Throughout the long delivery of this chip, several precise plans and fortuitous coincidences have aligned in just such a way as to make you, you specifically at this exact juncture, an irreplaceable asset in the ongoing endeavor of this wounded world's recovery from otherwise hopeless ruin.
MR. HOUSE: Your cooperation going forward is not merely crucial to this endeavor's success, but it's utterly non-negotiable. Should you entertain the moral issue of what's at stake, it's obligatory, even. It's why your refusal comes as such a...genuine surprise. Can't you see?
MR. HOUSE: I'm not a fascist, Agnes--I would never force you. But given the circumstances, I'm entitled, wouldn't you agree, to at least a brief demonstration of my vision? The vision that the platinum chip promises? Victor has surely seen your companion to the presidential suite by now--my other Securitrons can escort you to the basement, where I'm sure you can make a...properly informed decision.
The SECURITRONS close in on AGNES, who screams in protest.
AGNES: No! I said no! I already delivered your chip, I--I killed Benny! I-- I-- ...what do you want with me!?
MR. HOUSE: Haven't you been listening? I want what's best for you--for us. I know it's a lot, but bear with me for one moment longer, and I can assure you--that this is the beginning of something very incredible.
MEANWHILE, the TARANTULA HAWK has dragged the paralyzed TARANTULA back to the entrance of its own burrow.
The TARANTULA HAWK shoves its helpless prey into the hole, and then crawls in after it.
The TARANTULA is not seen again.
#fallout#fallout new vegas#fnv#courier six#rose of sharon cassidy#victor#mr. house#agnes sands#ikroah archive#volume 02#26
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Once again I am asking you to read fashion historian Cassidy Percoco's Twitter thread about changes in men's fashion in the 18th and 19th centuries.
It's a quick read and informative! In brief:
Men's fashion became more subdued over the course of the 18th century
Beau Brummell had nothing to do with the move away from earlier styles
I quote: "Brummell made his name by wearing the hell out of what already was considered fashionable - working within the parameters of normal dress"
Colourful men's fashion was a thing for most of the 19th century!!!! It didn't go away in the Regency period!!!!
Stop with the long-debunked "Beau Brummell ruined men's fashion" canard, I'm begging you.
I looked up this "Great Male Renunciation" concept, since I have never heard of such a thing even in books dedicated to the history of men's fashion, and surprise! It was coined by a psychologist in 1930!
One of the sources cited by Wikipedia is Nicholas Storey's book History of Men's Fashion: What the Well-dressed Man is Wearing, which I own, and it's so dull and lazy and awful that I still haven't moved it to my new apartment. The author is literally a British barrister with no academic background in dress history, who openly admits to not owning more than two fashion history books in a 2013 interview, and that checks out with what I remember about his book: his opinionated blather on what he thinks is a good man's suit, as a rich lawyer guy.
I'm not saying that you couldn't find more respectable sources to support the "Great Male Renunciation" idea, but I don't think it's very supported by the historical record. You can say a lot about changing fashions and ideas about masculinity without setting up an over-hyped and dramatic break from past styles.
#fashion history#dress history#beau brummell#great male renunciation#historical men's fashion#18th century#19th century#also if OP sees this hi i am one of the Appear in an Illustration supporters of dandies & dandyzettes#love your work!
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Not my art
FOR MY LOVE
Warnings: None!
Chocolate rocks
Y/n: "WHERE ARE THEY?!" Skids to a stop in the kitchen.
Jack: "Uhhh.. who?" Hasn't even gotten a sip of his coffee yet.
Y/n: "Sloane. Where, are, they. This is a matter of life and death." Making dramatic hand motions.
Jack: pinching the bridge of his nose and setting his cup down before pointing towards the main sitting area. "In there."
Y/n: "thanks Jack!" Proceeds to sprint full force into the other room
Y/n: "SLOA- WOAH!" Immediately crashes into Hanzo and Cole. All three go crashing to the ground, the other four people in the room now stare blankly at the groaning trio.
Lucio: "Soooo, what just happened?"
Hana: "No clue." Proceeds to take a picture
Angela: "That's my queue. Sloane, come see me if the pain is any more trouble, alright?"
Sloane: "m'kay!" With that angela nods and walks off leaving six now.
Cole: "what in tarnation, y/n get offa me wouldja?" A groan is heard under him.
Hanzo: "I'll ask the same of you, Cassidy.." a glare is set as y/n jumps off and gives a quick sorry before their eyes lock on their target
Y/n: "YOU!" points aggressively at Sloane. Said individuals eyes widen as they nervously point at themselves.
Sloane: "uh.. y-yeah?" Sweating buckets thinking they pissed you off. 'didnt eat any rocks today, didn't get lost either, I'm not forgetting some important day... Am I?!' internally freaking out.
Y/n: "here!" A grin stretches across your face as you pull a bag from your coat and hand it to the wreck of an archeologist. 'chocolate rocks' it read.
Sloane: starts sniffling as they shakily grab the bag. "AAWWWHH YOURE THE BEST Y/N!" Proceeds to yank you into a bear hug which you return whole heartily.
Jack: watching the interaction from the kitchen. "Life or death huh?" Sips coffee.
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Chapter 7
Series Summary: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she hates how everyone thinks Harry is. Because she knows that's not the case.
Chapter Summary: Cassidy thought her friendship with Harry and her relationship with Derek could exist peacefully. But you can't always have what you want, and sometimes you can keep what you already have.
Chapter Warnings: Some explicit language, mention of sex, alcohol consumption, jealousy, argument, physical altercation, panic/anxiety attack
[ present - August 2020 ]
As the sunlight from outside peeks through the curtains, Cassidy stretches her body, her eyes still shut as she holds onto that peaceful feeling.
A stirring beside her opens her eyes, and she rolls over to see Derek slowly waking.
It wasn't planned that he would stay the night, but the relief from her completed work, a couple glasses of wine, and the feeling of his lips persistently grazing her neck sent them straight to the bedroom as soon as her laptop was shut.
"Mm. Good morning." Derek mumbles, turning onto his side and slowly blinking to clear his vision, smiling as they meet each other's gaze. "I definitely enjoy waking up like this."
Cassidy brings her shoulders up in shyness, a blush forming on her cheeks. He is the first man, in a very long time, that she has woken up next to in the bed. The man before him was, maybe unfortunately, her last sexual partner. The man before him is actually, in a way, the reason it's been so long. Because, the man before him is Cecelia's father.
[ flashback - January 2016 ]
"You had sex with Nathan?" Gemma squeals, bouncing in excitement.
Cassidy smiles at not only the question, or the memory of that night, but also at how silly yet normal it feels to be sitting on Gemma's bed and talking about boys, since now they are in their early twenties.
"You're acting like I'm some shy, little virgin, Gem! I've had sex before."
Her best friend swats her arm and Cassidy grabs it in dramatic fashion.
"I know you're not, CJ. I was at the party when that all changed." She winces in disgust, and Cassidy knows it is due to the reminder of that night. She was naive, and inexperienced, and it was just bad. "I know about everyone you've had sex with."
Cassidy clears her throat, desperately hoping that Gemma doesn't read anything into it, because there is actually one person that her best friend does not know about. That she can never know about. Gemma will never know that Cassidy had sex with Harry. Twice.
"Okay, now you're making me out to be a whore."
"Oh for fucks sake, CJ." Gemma rolls her eyes, pulling her knees to rest under her chin. "So… what was he like?"
"Gem!" Cassidy exclaims, tossing a nearby pillow in her friend's direction.
"What? I had to ask…"
"You really didn't…"
Gemma pouts, giving her best begging eyes, even though they both know that Cassidy will spill the beans anyway.
"It was good." She states, dropping her head down onto her own knees as she feels a pink hue rushing to her cheeks. "Really good."
"That's all I get?"
"I'm not going into detail about it, Gem, bloody hell!"
"Fine." Gemma's shoulders drop in disappointment, causing Cassidy to let out a loud laugh.
"It was hot and sweaty." She replies, suddenly wanting to give her friend just a little something to satisfy the curiosity. "And, he was good at it."
A buzz almost vibrates through the entire mattress, and both girls check their phones to see who was sent some form of communication. Cassidy holds hers up so the screen is on full view for her friend.
"Speaking of…"
🗨️Nathan: i had a really good time with you
Cassidy instantly feels the pink hue turn to a bright, hot red. She bites her bottom lip, and her gaze flickers up to her best friend, not speaking any words to clue her in on what was just said through the text.
🗨️Cassidy: i did too
🗨️Nathan: i'll let you know next time i'm in town
🗨️Nathan: if you wanna hang out again
"Well… what does it say? Are you gonna see him again?" Gemma asks, scooting across the bedding as if it gets her closer to the information she's about to receive.
"Ummm…" Cassidy begins to reply. She feels an almost giddiness begin to flutter in her stomach, but tries to reel it in. When they met, at that One Direction party, she figured he was nice, even though their interaction was cut short by a certain long-haired twat. And when Michal later mentioned Nathan had been asking about her, she must admit she was a little flattered, despite the awkward tension in the room between her and Harry. It's sort of ironic that she was so insistent that she and Nathan were not going on a date on New Year's Eve, yet here she is, talking to her best friend about how she just spent the night with him. She can almost hear Harry's disgustingly arrogant 'I was right' comment if he were also involved in this conversation. She hates that he was, coincidentally, correct. But her recent date with Nathan went really well, and even though it would cause Harry's already giant ego to grow, she's actually glad she got together with the guy.
"Yeah." She utters, looking down at the open messages on her phone, slight discouragement settling in.
"That doesn't sound convincing…"
"It's just that…" Cassidy looks up, her teeth toying with her bottom lip as she adjusts her posture. "He isn't always in town. I guess he's been traveling a bit for his job."
"What does he do?" Gemma asks. "I don't remember."
"Honestly? I don't either." She admits, pulling her lips inward with a little guilt. "Something with production, or marketing, I think."
"Hm." Her best friend hums, an expression of thought now embedded between her brows. "Well, it seems as if he likes you… he wants to see you again when he can… maybe just see where it goes?"
"See where it goes." Cassidy utters back, as if to let the words take root in her brain. She looks down to her phone again, her thumbs positioned over the keyboard as she begins to type.
🗨️Cassidy: yeah, let me know when you're back
[ present - August 2020 ]
Cassidy gives Derek one last kiss before rolling out of his arms and scooting close to the edge of the bed to retrieve her phone.
"I think we slept in…"
"That's good… right?" Derek chuckles, a humorously confused look across his still sleepy face.
"Yeah, it is, I guess. I just never get to do it. But it's good." She smiles back, unlocking her phone to check the time. As she opens it, her expression drops and she quickly sits up in the bed. "Nope… not good. Not good!"
"What? Why?" Derek asks, sitting up to match her posture and placing his hand on her back.
"Shit. Umm… okay, okay…" She stutters, looking around the room for something, though she isn't sure what she needs, since her mind has become a jumble. "The time! Harry is gonna be here in 15 minutes with Cece!"
"Okay… I don't understand why that's bad."
Cassidy sighs. Not truly out of annoyance, but more so to regulate her breathing, also hoping she can take that second to gather her thoughts.
"She's going to see you here." That's all she can manage as her mind focuses on searching for her clothes.
"I'm… confused… I'm still not seeing the problem."
She can't blame him, really. He's never dated a single mum, so he's not accustomed to the dynamic of this sort of relationship. She really shouldn't blame herself for anything either, but she can't help picturing the face Cecelia will make seeing Derek there when she is brought back home. It doesn't sit right with Cassidy, not this early on.
"She's still getting used to us being together, Derek. I don't want to make it even more awkward for her."
"Cecelia is only 3 years ol-"
"Derek, please. Y-you... I need you to leave."
"Okay." He slides out of the bed, stopping his steps as he gets close enough to hold onto her shoulders. "I don't want you to stress out. I'll go."
Cassidy nods in response, closing her eyes as he kisses her forehead and releases his hold for them to both find their clothing.
She feels her breaths pick up their pace, hoping she can keep herself calm enough so that Derek doesn't pick up on her current fret.
As he finally finishes dressing, he comes up behind her, shuffling along with his hands on her waist as she exits the bedroom, walking to the hook by the front door where he placed his keys.
She spins around to find a wide, amused grin stretched across his face, causing a small amount of annoyance to bubble up.
"What's so entertaining about this?"
He pulls her closer, once again placing his lips on her forehead, then down onto her nose, and one on her own lips.
"This is the first time I've been kicked out." He utters. "But if it ended up happening, I would never have thought it would be because someone was coming back home. Well, not a kid, at least."
"It's just…" She begins to reply, not even sure of what she wants to convey, her mind is in too much of a frantic state.
"I was just trying to lighten the mood, I'm sorry."
He pulls back, lifting her chin to focus her gaze on his. "It'll be okay. I'll call you later, yes?"
"Yes." She quietly responds, receiving one last kiss, and watches as he exits through the front door.
She releases a few shallow breaths as she attempts to gather herself. Derek is gone, which wasn't the problem, but she does believe that having him there when Cecelia got home would just create an even more awkward dynamic between the two of them. She may be young, but she is observant and bright. Cassidy is sure she would pick up on the fact that something was different. Or, at the very least, feel upset because someone else is at their flat in the morning, despite her own absence. Even if Cassidy is completely wrong, she'd much rather be safe than sorry. Her daughter always comes first.
A knock on the door pulls her out of her daze, creating a frustration since it seems Derek is being a bit careless and disregarding her wishes.
She swings the door open, finding Harry standing on the other side, with Cecelia's little hand wrapped in one of his, and her belongings held in his other.
"Mummy!" She exclaims, releasing herself from Harry and wrapping her arms around her mum's leg.
"H-hey, Bug." Cassidy manages to reply, her gaze flickering down the corridor with worry beginning to build. Did they see him? Did they both see Derek? If they did, what might he have said to them?
She moves out of the way, ushering them both inside, and closes the door behind them.
Cecelia runs straight to her bedroom, and Harry turns around with a curious expression on his face.
"I see work went well…" He states, an unclear tone to his words. Cassidy feels her chest tighten at the realization that they did, in fact, run into the man who stayed the night. Not only did her daughter encounter him, but Harry too, and she can't determine why that bothers her almost as much, but assumes it is because of the tension they always seem to have. "Cass, are you alright?"
"Did… did he say anything?"
"Who? Derek?"
"Yeah."
Harry shakes his head, putting down the bag of Cecelia's things and placing one hand on Cassidy's arm.
"I spotted him in the parking lot. Cece didn't even notice." His response helps her to release a bit more of a shaky breath, and Harry gently squeezes her arm. "Hey. Inhale and exhale for me, yeah?"
Her eyes meet his, seeing the familiar concern that he has shown each time he's helped her through a panicked state. He begins to demonstrate what he's asked her to do, and she follows along, breathing in and out at the same pace, seeing his own worry diminish each time they do so together.
"There you go." He encourages, his focus fixed on her. "Better?"
"Yes." She replies, her lungs opening with her new regulated breathing. "Thank you."
"What's going on?" He asks, that concern seemingly turning from her panic and now to what may have caused it.
"I don't really know." She replies. Despite simply not wanting Derek's presence to create an uncomfortable environment for Cecelia, she isn't sure why that possible scenario caused such an intense reaction.
"Was it Derek?" He questions, his tone turning a lot more stern than it was just moments ago. "Did something happen with him?"
"No, no, no." She quickly responds, wanting to squash the negative assumption immediately. "No. I just… I didn't want Cece to see him here."
"Why's that?" He asks suddenly.
"I'm not sure." Her brow furrows, searching her mind for a satisfying answer. Not necessarily for Harry, but for herself. "I just thought it might be awkward for her. I'm sure I was just being ridiculous."
"That's not ridiculous, Cass." He gives her a small, yet reassuring smile. "She's your daughter. You want to do what feels right for her."
A warmth falls over her. A sudden relief through validation. She's a mother. She's allowed to be protective. Especially when allowing another person into their lives. And besides, this is all new territory for her.
Derek hasn't been in a situation like this either, so she can't expect him to understand. Oddly, Harry seems to get it, but many of his other friends have children too. He's probably been privy to a multitude of different parenting difficulties.
"I didn't�� plan any of it, by the way."
"What do you mean?" He asks, confusion appearing on his features.
"I didn't know he was coming over last night. He showed up while I was working. He hung around while I was writing, and then we ended up-"
"I don't need the details." Harry interrupts, smiling yet wincing simultaneously, causing Cassidy to laugh.
"I just don't want you to think that I had you watch Cece so I could… have a date or something, and not tell you." She explains softly, and shyly.
"Cass… I know you're not that type of person." Harry chuckles. "And I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. I offered to help, there were no conditions."
She sighs out of relief. Mainly due to the reassurance of his willingness to help out. But also, mildly, she feels that relief because he doesn't seem to be uncomfortable with whatever potential reason she needed that help. Maybe that's a good sign, that they can all get along, and be around each other.
"Plus, I'll take any opportunity to spend time with the James girls…" He begins to add, and by the look being created in his face, Cassidy can tell he has something cheeky to say next. "Well, one of them. The other is a bit of a nuisance…"
"Oh you're one to talk, you wank-"
"But speaking of hanging out, are you free this weekend? My friends Sarah and Mitch want to meet you." He states, a shy blush forming on his cheeks, and an almost timidness to his tone.
"From your band? Why?" She asks, hoping the question didn't come across as snarky. Though, considering their usual banter, she wouldn't really care either way.
"Yeah." He chuckles, running a ring-free hand through his unclipped hair. "They want to meet the girl who tormented me as a kid."
"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" She exclaims, watching as a wide grin stretched across his face, and a dimple caves into his cheeks.
Harry throws up his hands, dramatically, in defense of his sarcastic statement.
"That's how I remember it…" He replies, the grin somehow getting wider. "It would be a small group of us, eating out or something. You can tell lies… I mean stories… from our childhood."
"Wow. You are really selling me on the idea of hanging out with you and your friends." She rolls her eyes, noticing Harry pulls his lips as he jokingly does the same.
"You'll have friends there too. Me…" He points to himself proudly, and arrogantly, as if that's all the reason she needs. To be fair, it is. She would hang out with him any time. But considering how Derek feels, it's probably best to include more people. At least for now.
"Wow. Convincing." She scoffs, lightheartedly.
"And Gem." He jokingly scowls back. "And Roxie, if you want to invite her."
"Well, in that case…" She teases, pretending to ponder all the information she's just been given. One thing she does actually wonder is if she should mention the man she's been dating. If she should include him, too. It's Harry's invitation. He doesn't seem to be the biggest fan of Derek, who seems to reciprocate the feeling, so it's probably best not to. Besides, she has seen a lot more of Derek lately than the others, and she can have a night out with just her friends if she wants. "Count me in!"
•••
Despite the new limited capacity inside, the pub seems to be filled with noise and laughter, and as she walks up to the secluded booth filled with her friends, Cassidy can't help but feel as if this is something she's been needing. Though, it's probably something that most people have been needing, ever since the world practically shut down.
There's probably not enough gratitude she can express for this venue allowing small groups of people, masked until they are seated, to get together and slowly get back a bit more freedom. And just as much, she is thankful for Harry's invitation to a night out.
"There she is!" Gemma exclaims, causing each person's head to swivel in her direction. "Is Roxie coming?"
"No, she couldn't make it."
"Well, nice of you to join us." Harry adds, instantly receiving a friendly glare from her.
"Hey! I had to try to explain to Cece why she couldn't come and hang out with us." She shakes her head, almost exhausted from the fifteen minute conversation she had with her 3 year old before she left.
"She just wants to be with her bestie…"
"Yeah and I still can't figure out why." She chuckles, sliding into the spot at the end of the seat, next to Gemma.
"You must be Cassidy then." She hears from the middle of the group, turning and meeting the gaze of the brunette smiling back at her.
"I am! You must be Sarah." She smiles, reaching across the table as best she can to shake hands. Her gaze moves over a few inches to see a quiet, brunette man, with the smallest of smiles on his face, barely detectable as he makes eye contact. "And you must be Mitch."
"Yep." He responds, reaching his own hand out for a quick shake.
"Nice to meet you both." She states, settling back down in her seat. As her gaze flickers over to Harry, she sees his lips pulled slightly to his left in a subtle smirk, as if proud that they've all finally met. Though, the funny thought crosses her mind that he might not be so happy about the situation if and when she corrects any ridiculously inaccurate stories he's already told them. "I hear I have some childhood memories I need to straighten out."
"That was a joke, Cass."
"They still deserve to know the truth." She smirks, seeing his grow a little wider with amusement. "But first, I need a drink."
•••
As Harry buries his face in his palms, the rest of the group erupts with laughter, unfortunately for him it's at his expense.
"My mum never intended for him to wear that dalmatian costume for two more years…" Gemma states, expanding on the story they've been engrossed in.
"It didn't even fit him anymore. The hem of the bottoms came halfway up his shins!" Cassidy adds, trying hard to catch her own breath.
"Alright. Alright." Harry lifts his head, giving it a shake as he gives his sister a glare.
"Sorry little brother." Gemma states.
"It's a fun memory!" Cassidy adds, regaining control of her breaths. As it settles, she focuses on him, seeing a sheepish smile on his face.
"Yes, yes. They've all been so fun." He proclaims sarcastically.
"Well, fun for us…" She responds, pointing between herself and her best friend. Harry purses his lips with a squint of his eyes, causing Cassidy to lift her almost empty glass for a sip, to fake some innocence. Though, she knows he's unbothered by it. He was the one to create this situation after all.
She feels a buzz under her hand, and she flips her palm over to unlock her phone, opening the new message she has just received.
🗨️Derek: hey beautiful, having fun?
🗨️Cassidy: yeah, loads!
"What about secrets? I'm sure you've got some good ones to share about this guy that most people don't know!" Sarah asks.
She closes out of the texts, turning off her screen to think over Sarah's question. For a second, Cassidy believes she doesn't have any, only funny stories to embarrass the guy. However, only a moment later, she is reminded of the one secret they share. The one no one else knows. The one where their bodies were entangled in a sweaty mess in his hotel room. Twice. The one that cannot and will not be shared with anyone else. Especially not at this table, with this crowd. Especially not with Gemma, her best friend and his sister, sitting right beside her.
Her eyes shoot up to his, noticing his lips pulled inward in anticipation. Or maybe worry. Clearly, though, he was reminded of the same thing as he stares at her with wide eyes.
"Umm…" She stalls, watching him squirm in place as she feels her heart begin to race. What can she even say? Her delayed response is only going to make things more uncomfortable, and maybe even begin to look suspicious. She has got to think of something to say, and thankfully, to her extreme relief, she thinks of one other thing to share. "I do know… one thing…"
"Ca-... Cass…" He utters nervously, and quietly, potentially hoping to be unheard by the others, and plead with her not to share their intimate secret. He shouldn't be worried, she wants to keep that locked away as much as he does. Maybe even more.
"When he was younger, Harry had a crush…" She begins in a teasing manner, noticing his eyes squeeze shut. "On his teacher, Mrs. Hamilton."
His eyes shoot open with surprise, and possibly even gratitude, despite her statement being of utter humiliation for him.
"How did you-"
"I overhead you singing some cutesy little made-up song about her one day."
"You did not!" Gemma squeals, a question rather than a defense for him.
"Most boys have a crush on a teach-"
"She was 50 years old, H!" His sister interrupts, causing his hands to return back into his palms as he growls in embarrassment.
"She had a nice smile." He whimpers, and Cassidy can just make out the red blush on his cheeks.
Despite it being a mild admission, she does feel bad for revealing the information, so she takes a deep breath and reaches towards him, placing the tips of her fingers on his for encouragement.
"I… had a crush on Mr. Peters…"
"Oh god!" Gemma exclaims, her palm hitting her forehead as fast as the words leave her lips. "That's just as appalling."
"He had a nice smile, too." She adds, watching Harry lift his head and chuckle, sending an almost appreciative glance with his glistening green eyes. She feels a tickle on her cheeks as a pink hue undoubtedly begins to surface, so she pulls her hands back and straightens herself. "And now I need another drink!"
"I'll get it." Sarah states, bumping Mitch on the arm, causing him to do the same to Harry. "My shout, I'll pay, as a thanks for giving up all those details about H!"
As Harry stands, he rolls his eyes and steps aside, letting his friend out of the booth. Sarah winks as she walks away, and Cassidy feels a nudge on her own arm.
"I need to use the toilet." Gemma utters, causing Cassidy to slide off from the seat and allow her friend to slide by.
Another vibration from her phone grabs Cassidy's attention as she reclaims her seat, and she opens it up to see a couple more messages have just come in.
🗨️Derek: how long will you be there?
🗨️Derek: was hoping to come by after
Cassidy rereads his question, unsure as to why it seems to suddenly, but only slightly, bother her. He knew she was going out with her friends tonight, and that the two of them didn't have any plans together. But nonetheless, she supposes it should be considered sweet that he still wants to see her.
🗨️Cassidy: not sure, maybe an hour or 2
🗨️Derek: oh, really? okay
She places her phone back down onto the table and sighs, thinking that maybe she should have actually included Derek in this get-together.
"You good?" She hears next to her, coming from that familiar and deep voice of her friend, apparently now sitting next to her. She looks up to find his curious, maybe even concerned, expression waiting for her answer.
"Yeah, I'm good." She nods, but it doesn't seem to ease the tension in his features.
"Is it Cece?" He asks, scooting just a little closer as his eyes float down to the device in front of them.
"No, no, she's fine. Our neighbor is over at our flat to watch her. And she's in bed anyway." She replies, inhaling a deep breath and feeling an odd, random sense of comfort as his cologne hits her senses. "It's actually Derek texting me."
Harry's body tenses, very apparent to her, but maybe not so much to his other friend Mitch who is now listening to something on his own phone. She wishes she knew exactly why Harry reacts that way every time she mentions the man she's seeing. If she knows what it is that bothers him, maybe she can fix it.
"Right. And, umm…" He unclamps the clip that has been holding his hair back, and runs his fingers through as he tussles it around. "Did he not want to come out tonight?"
"I didn't invite him." She unintentionally blurts out, no longer able to cultivate a better reply.
"Oh." He utters, and Cassidy catches a small upward tug of his lips, which he immediately attempts to retract. "Why's that?"
"I just wanted a night out with my friends." She shrugs, doing her best not to react to his true, yet subtle, expression of happiness at Derek's absence. "He can come to the next one."
"Sure." He nods, stretching his long, tattooed arm across to grab his glass, instantly bringing it to his lips for a taste of the contents. Cassidy rolls her eyes, though only internally, at the underlying tone to his statement, no matter how hard he's trying to cover it up.
Another notification buzzes through, and she hears an exhaled scoff from the man beside her, slightly muffled by the edge of the glass still pressed between his lips.
🗨️Derek: text me later then
🗨️Cassidy: i will
She relocks the screen once again, setting the phone into her bag to focus on the friends in front of her. She meets Harry's gaze to find him smiling, potentially the biggest smile of the whole night.
"What?"
"I'm just glad we all get to hang out." He shrugs, a timid innocence drawn with his words.
"Really? Even though I'm counteracting this alternative reality you seem to have created for your other friends?" She chuckles, nudging his side gently with her elbow.
"Yes. Despite that." Harry responds, running his thumb along his bottom lip. "It's fun to reminisce…"
"Yeah. You're right." She agrees. "Turns out not all of my childhood memories were so bad."
[ flashback - September 1999 ]
Sitting atop her fluffy pink quilt, her little fingers picking at the nails of each hand, Cassidy waits for someone to enter her bedroom. She doesn't know who it will be. She doesn't know who she wants it to be. But what she does know, even at the age of 6, is that whatever she just walked into was something she wasn't meant to see.
"CJ?" She hears spoken softly, accompanied by a gentle knocking on her door. Her shoulders drop, feeling a little calmer as to who is on the other side.
Her mother slowly opens the door, keeping that quiet, calm demeanor as she steps inside and closes it behind her, allowing it to be just the two of them in the conversation.
"I'm sorry if me and your dad scared you." Her mother states solemnly, taking a seat on the bed and stroking her daughter's hair in comfort. "We were… having a little disagreement…"
"You were yellin', and yellin' is bad." Cassidy responds quickly, and so matter-of-fact, showing off how well she really does know the rules of the house.
"I know, darling, I'm sorry."
"I didn't like it."
"I know, I'm sorry…" Her mother sighs, kissing the top of her daughter's head. "We shouldn't have been so loud."
Cassidy leans into her mother's chest, feeling warmth and comfort appear as she is wrapped up in the hug.
"Mummy?"
"Yes?"
Cassidy pulls her head back, innocently looking into her mother's eyes.
"Daddy shouldn't have hit you. Hittin' is bad, too." She furrows her brow, remembering her father's hand smack across her mother's face as Cassidy entered the kitchen earlier in the evening. "I didn't like that either."
"I know. I'm sorry, CJ." Her mother pulls Cassidy's body back to her, the hold a little tighter this time. "He was… upset. I made a mistake and… well, anyway, I'm alright. Okay? I'm alright."
"Okay." She nods, feeling a hot breath on her hair, causing another question to want to wiggle its way out. "Umm… Mummy…"
"Yes, darling?"
"Will… will he-... what if I make-"
"CJ." Her mother states, pushing back to stare into her daughter's eyes, showing such a sincerity that even the young girl can understand it. "You don't have to worry. No one will hurt you."
[ present day - August 2020 ]
As Cassidy enters through the doors to the lift of her building, she realizes she hadn't sent a text to the babysitter, letting her know that she was on her way.
"Damn it." She mumbles, reaching inside of her bag to retrieve her device, hoping she didn't miss any important messages.
As she unlocks the screen of her phone, she is met with multiple notifications, and feels guilt poke at her heart for not checking it sooner.
Her finger presses to open the app and her breath halts momentarily as she realizes that every message is from one particular person.
🗨️Derek: have you left the pub?
🗨️Derek: are you back yet?
🗨️Derek: can you please text me
🗨️Derek: when will you be home?
🗨️Derek: Cassidy where are you?
Eyes growing wide and the noise of the lift reaching her floor pulls her attention away as the doors begin to open.
She steps out, her gaze adjusting down the corridor towards her flat, and notices someone sitting by her door.
"What the…" She utters quietly, catching up with her thoughts as she catches the attention of the visitor. "Derek? What th-... what… are you doing here?"
The man scrambles to his feet and instantly stands tall, the expression on his face being one of concern. No, it's not one of concern, it's one that is concerning. To her.
"I told you that I wanted to come by."
"Right, but… Derek, I-... I was out with my friends…"
"I know. You said you'd be back in an hour or two, so I made my way over." He shrugs, as if this shouldn't be a surprise to her at all. As if this was always the plan for the night. "You took a bit longer than you said though."
"You've… you've just been… waiting out here?" She watches as Derek nods, swift and simple, yet not doing anything to subside the shock and confusion that's chaotically taken over her brain. "Umm… l-let's just… go inside."
She reaches into her bag and the quiet jingle of keys captures her focus enough to unlock the door and slowly push it open.
"We need to be quiet. Cece is asleep." She whispers over her shoulder, hearing a hum of acknowledgement behind her.
They both step through the doorway, and Cassidy's neighbor stands up from the sofa.
"How was she, Mrs. Clarkson?"
"She was great." The lady smiles. "Went down for bed pretty easily too.'
"Well, thank you so much for watching her tonight. I really appreciate it." Cassidy states, more than grateful to have finally gotten to know her neighbor a few weeks ago, and the woman's offer to take care of Cecelia whenever she was needed.
"It's no problem. Cece is so fun and so sweet. It was my pleasure." Mrs. Clarkson states and suddenly glances behind Cassidy, seemingly noticing the man standing a foot or two away. "Well… I suppose I better be off then."
Mrs. Clarkson nods at the both of them, grabbing a small bag and shuffling towards the door.
"Are you sure I can't give you some mon-" Cassidy tries to ask, despite their earlier conversation, before her night out even began.
"You are just as sweet as your daughter. But I'm sure." Her neighbor swivels around, one hand up in front, the other on the doorknob, and a smile on her face. "I'm here to help, if and when you need me. Enjoy your night."
"Thank you." Cassidy replies, watching the woman walk out, closing the door, and seeming to take the positive vibes with her. Her previous confusion and frustration reappear instantly as she turns her attention back to Derek. "What is going on? Why did you come over?"
"A guy can't just want to see his girl?" He asks, a sarcastic tone to his voice, and his arms across his chest.
"That's not what I'm saying. But tonight was about me spending time with my friends."
"And am I not good enough to hang out with them, too?"
"What? It's not that… you…" Cassidy exhales forcefully, confusion clouding her mind enough to prohibit any complete thought or sentence to be formed. She still has no grasp of an idea as to why he's there or what's going on. "I just… wanted to spend time with my friends."
"Right. Without me." Derek replies, his entire body becoming noticeably more tense as she sees his palms curl into fists.
Cassidy pulls her lips inward, not wanting to say something she may regret, though she isn't even sure what she would say anyway. This entire conversation, and situation in general, is throwing her for a loop.
Thankfully, a buzz from her phone gives her some relief, pulling it out and using the new message as a chance to momentarily reset herself.
🗨️Harry: did you get home safe?
Her thumbs touch the screen to respond, yet the word 'yes' becomes a jumbled array of extra letters as she feels her phone being snatched out from her grasp.
Her mouth drops open, unable to comprehend what has happened, and she shoots her gaze up to see Derek's scowl as he looks down at the device.
"Harry was there?" He growls.
"Derek, what the h-"
"I fucking get it now." He drops the phone back down into her still open hands and scoffs. "Now I see why I wasn't allowed to go."
"What?"
Derek steps closer, and a familiar feeling flows over Cassidy's body, though she doesn't have the speed and steadiness to determine what it is. But she knows it isn't a good one.
"You didn't want me there, because Harry was there."
"Why would that-"
"Because you love him! Don't you? You fucking love him and you lied to me!"
"Derek, Harry and I are just friends." Cassidy replies, quieting her volume in hopes that he will do the same, for the sake of Cecelia's sleep.
A few more steps and he is right in front of her, their toes almost touching. It's normally something that someone would want their significant other to do, but this is not one of the times, and an uneasiness courses through her veins.
"Are you fucking him?" He asks, his voice no more than a whisper, though the intensity in his tone has doubled.
"We've talked ab-"
"Answer the question, Cassidy." He growls, a darkness growing in his glare. "Are you fucking him?"
"No! I'm not!" She replies, her mind swirling in a daze, only providing the most inappropriate memory to manifest at this most inconvenient time. "It's been years since we-"
"Years? Years since… what? Since you two hooked up?" He groans, throwing his head back and running his hands over his face, scoffing at her unintended confession. "I knew it. I fucking knew it."
"It… it was a long… long time ago." She utters, surprising herself that any words came out considering the lump now lodged in her throat.
"Sure. And I'm supposed to believe that you two are 'just friends' now?" His body resets, and a hand suddenly flies forward to grip her arm, causing her body to stiffen, and as his other grabs her phone and throws it to the floor. "I call bullshit."
"Derek… please…" She whispers, her past beginning to surface in her thoughts and feelings.
"Please? Please what?" He mimics, bringing his free hand up to grab her jaw, and his face hovering right in front of hers. "Please forgive you? Please believe you?"
"P-please… let go…"
A little thud and shuffling of tiny feet grab the attention of both adults, sending worry down Cassidy's spine. She hoped it may have caused Derek to release his hold, but he tightens his grip and she whispers as a fear sets in.
"Mummy?" The sleepy little voice sounds out from the bedroom.
"I'll… I'll be r-right there, Bug." Cassidy manages to get out, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
"Mummy?" Cecelia utters again, clearly having not heard her mum's response, or not understanding it in her drowsy state.
"Stay in your room!" She shouts, shakiness and panic unavoidable at this point, as she hopes it goes unnoticed. Not just by her daughter. "Please, stay in there!"
She hears Cecelia shuffle back to bed, and her cheeks become wet, undoubtedly leaving long black marks as the tears drop.
"You… you need to leave." She mumbles, unsure if her words even left her lips, but desperately hoping they did.
"You think I'd want to stay?" Derek scoffs. He pushes against the arm he holds tightly, releasing it as she begins to stumble and falls to the floor, landing right where her phone did moments before. "No. It's over. I'm done with you."
She watches through blurred vision as he turns and exits the flat, shuddering as the door slams shut, and desperately hoping it doesn't draw her daughter out of her bed again.
With her legs out to her side, and her palms pressed against the floor to prop herself up, she feels anything but steady. How did she end up there? Obviously, she knows Derek pushed her down, but how did things get so bad, so quickly?
A single knock and the sound of the front door opening has her reaching for her phone and beginning to scramble to her feet.
"Cassidy, it's alright." She hears the soft voice of her next door neighbor try to reassure her, and she collapses back to the ground as Mrs. Clarkson's arms wrap around her shoulders, bringing her into a gentle embrace. "I heard the yelling, and the door slam shut."
"I'm… I'm sorr-"
"Sh. Sh. No need to be sorry. I wanted to make sure you're okay." A soft palm runs over Cassidy's hair and the peaceful gesture alerts her to her racing heart and labored breath.
"Cece… she woke… can you…"
"I'll go check on her." Mrs. Clarkson states, pushing herself up. "Is there someone you can call to come over?"
Cassidy nods, not having a specific person in mind, but giving the acknowledgement nonetheless. Her neighbor walks away, and as she hears the door quietly creak open, she turns her daze covered eyes to her device.
She sees her open messages, pressing the call button and holding the phone up to her ear.
"Uh oh. Is this a drunk dial? Or are you ringing to make more fun of me? Because I don't know if I can take much more tonight." Harry chuckles, and in any other situation, Cassidy knows she would be too.
"H-Harry…"
"Yes…?"
"I… I need…" She stutters, trying her hardest to voice any request, any thought, any comprehendible word to help him understand anything she's trying to say. Anything through the choked back wail that's threatening to push through.
"Cass… what is it? What's going on?" He asks, a concerned tone growing with each word.
"Derek… he…"
"What did he do? Where is he? Is he still there?" Shuffling can immediately be heard from the other end, and if Cassidy could put any extra thought into it, she would know he's putting shoes on.
"No." She whispers, feeling a mild amount of relief as she hears the beep of his car unlocking. But her breathing stays rapid and she clutches her chest with her free hand, as if to keep her heart in place.
"I'll be right there."
Her body begins to feel weak, her eyes begin to glaze over even more, and her hand drops down with a loose grasp on her phone. She hardly registers anything besides overwhelming dread and anxiety, though the feeling of her device leaving her hand can just barely be acknowledged. And then the faint sound of Harry's voice can ever so slightly be heard shouting through the speaker.
"Cass? Cass!"
"Hello?" Another voice speaks, gentle and calm, belonging to Mrs. Clarkson.
The muffled noise from their conversation fades into the background and Cassidy is left with the sound of her fast heartbeats and even faster breaths.
"It'll be alright. He's on his way." She hears beside her. "Harry's on his way."
[ flashback - May 2005 ]
Cassidy sits on her bed and giggles as she watches her best friend twirl around the room in one of the dresses they found in the closet.
"This one should work." Gemma asks, stopping her motions and posing in front of the full length mirror that is propped up against the wall. "You're sure you're okay with lending it to me?"
"Of course!" Cassidy exclaims. "That's what best friends are for."
"Exactly." Gemma winks in reflection, taking one last look at herself before turning around to face her friend. "I need to use the toilet, and I'll change in there too."
The noise of the bathroom door sounds out and Cassidy pushes herself off the mattress, bending down to begin tidying up the multitude of outfits that did not satisfy the specific look that Gemma was going for.
A sudden thud causes Cassidy to jump in place, and her happy, fun demeanor is replaced with anxiety as she hears two voices from the front of the house. From her mum and dad. That means, their happy, fun day is about to turn chaotic, and they need to get out of there. Fast.
"No, no, no."
She drops the clothes and bursts out of her bedroom to the door across the way, bringing her fist up to gently, but vigorously, knock on the wood.
"Gem." She whispers, keeping her words and actions as quiet as possible. "Gemma."
"Alright. Alright. Hold on." She hears in a response, an unknowingly chuckle accompanying the words.
"Gemma. We've… we've got to go."
The door swings open, and Cassidy sees her best friend's curious yet playful expression turn to one of concern as loud voices begin to fill the house.
"What's-"
She's not even sure what her main concern is at this moment, but what she does know is that she wants to get out of there. She needs to get out of there. They both do. She grabs her best friend's hand, motioning for her to keep quiet and begins to maneuver through the house to the back door, while the yelling only increases in volume and intensity.
As they arrive at their exit point, Cassidy's palm grips the doorknob, but she feels Gemma's hand squeeze her own as a sharp noise booms, quickly followed by quiet whimpers.
"You stupid cunt!" The deep voice of her father yells, accompanied by another sharp smack.
"Oh my god." Gemma whispers, and Cassidy's heart sinks as they sneak out of the house. She feels hurt, because she knows her mum is now in pain, and she feels embarrassed, because her best friend now knows it too.
They round the corner of the home, hands still gripped onto each other, and Cassidy lets out an exhausted, but relieved exhale as they reach the footpath out front.
"Umm, so…" She hears, turning to face her best friend, but unable to meet her gaze.
"That… that was awkward, right?" She chuckles, hoping to play it off as normal as possible. "Sorry you heard my parents… having a bit of a… a small disagreement…"
"That sounded like it was way more than a small disagreement, CJ." Gemma replies, her usual confidence taken over by compassionate caution.
"Oh, no. It was nothing."
"I heard him call her a… a cunt… and I heard him… hit her."
"It's… I mean, they just…" Cassidy sighs, choking back the tears in a last ditch effort to keep her composure, though she has the awareness that it's truly failing.
"CJ." Gemma mutters the statement of her name, and the dam breaks. Her hands fly up to her face, knowing her reaction has already been seen, yet still wanting to disappear into nothing. It's bad enough that those 'disagreements' even occur, but having her best friend hear it, know about it, makes it that much worse. And also, that much more real. When no one else knew, at least Cassidy could pretend it didn't happen at all, or that it was just a bad dream. But now? Now someone else knows, now she can't hide it, and now she has to face the truth.
"Please don't tell anyone."
"Well…" Gemma begins, grabbing her friend's shoulders. "I think we should… can I at least tell my parents? Maybe they'll, like, let you stay over."
Cassidy looks right at her best friend, practically her sister, and finds the sincerest and most compassionate of expressions she's ever come across. She can only imagine how much deeper they would be from Anne and Robin. Though the thought of anyone knowing her secret terrified her before, something about Gemma, Anne, and Robin knowing makes her feel at ease. If she wanted anyone to know, it would be them. The family she's basically growing up with now as her own.
"Okay." She agrees, feeling nervous yet comfortable with the decision. "Just, please, don't tell your brother."
[ present - August 2020 ]
Cassidy can't tell if it has felt like mere seconds, or a full hour since Derek had stormed out, so the new knock at the door sends a shiver over her body.
It creaks open, and Cassidy glances over from her spot on the sofa to see Mrs. Clarkson standing cautiously in the small gap she has made between the door and the frame.
"Hello." She states solemnly.
"Hi. I'm Harry." He replies quickly, almost an urgency to his greeting.
The neighbor nods and opens the space wide enough for him to enter the flat. As soon as Cassidy sees his short tousled curls, the small amount of sweat framing his face, and the terrified anger shooting through the greens of his eyes, her gaze immediately falls down to her pathetically shaky hands.
The fragrance of his cologne hits her first, swiftly followed by the warmth of his palms on her thighs.
"Cass." Harry exhales, lifting her chin with his finger, and she looks up to find his gaze flickering all over her face at a desperate speed. His fingers push her hair back on each side, and his thumbs brush over her skin as if searching for the answers. "Are you alright?"
Her brow furrows in uncertainty of how to answer. Sure, she is physically fine, despite the pending bruise that will most likely form from Derek's tight grip on her arm. But her heart, mind, and soul are in pieces. Not over Derek, per say. No, what hurts is the fact that this happened at all, that she let it happen, that she didn't see it coming in the first place. What hurts is that she has been in that situation before, years ago as a child, and still saw no signs in her most recent relationship. But what hurts the most, is the thought of what might have happened if her daughter had not stayed in her room.
"Cass. Breathe with me. Inhale for ten, remember?" His soft voice encourages, though the perceived gentle tone is wrapped with wavering confidence. "Cassidy… please, breathe with me."
Would Cecelia have seen what was happening, and understood? Would Derek have hurt her even more with her daughter present? Would he have hurt her daughter?
Pain and guilt strike every nerve in her body. She, of all people, should have seen signs. She, of all people, should have been able to avoid that situation. She, of all people, should have been able to keep that potential danger out of her child's life.
"C-... Cece…"
"Cece is fine. She's asleep. Mrs. Clarkson just checked on her before she left." She hears the words, though muffled by her racing thoughts. Warmth covers her cheeks again and her head begins to tilt by Harry's hand, raising her blurry gaze to find one of pure concern. "Cass, look at me. Cece is fine."
"I… let… let him… around her." She begins, eyes filling, unbelievably, with even more tears. "I let him… around my daughter!"
A silence fills the room, leaving only Harry's calm breaths left to encourage the regulation of her own. The heat on her cheeks travels to her hands, and she looks down to see them wrapped up in his.
"Inhale for ten." He whispers, taking a breath with her. "And let it out."
"I'm-"
"Please, love. Breathe." He demands in the most tender way, causing her gaze to shoot back up to his. "Breathe with me."
She nods, taking in air with Harry and holding it in as he holds her hands.
"I'm so… stupid." She states, releasing an exhale as she finally feels her lungs open and her chest release the tight hold it has around her heart.
"You're not stupid."
"I should have known." Her brow furrows, an anger towards herself rising to replace her panic as she catches more breaths. "And what's worse? I liked him. I mean… there were things that bugged me, things I questioned a little… but I kept seeing him!"
Harry's hands squeeze her own, so subtly, and she hears his throat clear as he pulls them away. His body moves around and takes a seat beside her, his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together.
"You just… wanted someone… to share life with." He utters sombrely.
"The wrong someone."
"They're all 'the wrong someone' until we find the right one…" He states, a little chuckle following his words, clearly a little pleased with how philosophical his statement came across.
Cassidy releases an amused exhale and feels the tension of her body begin to loosen.
"And even then…" He adds, giving a small yet noticeable shrug. "Love is… complicated."
"I wasn't in love." She instantly replies, certain of that fact, even with the night's events aside. "I've… I've actually never been in love."
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry's posture straighten and his gaze shoot over to her.
"Really?"
She is unsure as to why, but his sudden reaction and the following question have her feeling embarrassment flood over her.
"Have you?"
"I think so." He replies, his hand reaching up and fingers readjusting the clip on his curls.
"Isn't that something you should know?" She asks, watching as his lips pull inward, and noticing something she has very rarely seen in him, if at all. Vulnerability.
"Is it really love if…" He releases a subtle sigh, and as she looks over, she sees him begin to twist his fingers of one hand around those of the other, as if his rings were still adorning them. "If… it's not reciprocated?"
Cassidy opens her mouth with nothing to say. She's never felt that way about somebody. Anybody. The relationship that should have been her example for love had all but destroyed the hopes she had for finding it. She may not even know how to do it properly. Then when Cecelia came along, there wasn't really a need for it. Though that is a different love. Nonetheless, she feels sad for Harry. Knowing how generous and caring he is with his friends and family, with her and Cecelia, she can only imagine how much more he would give to someone he felt that strongly for. And for it to not be returned? She's surprised he hasn't given up hope. She sure wants to, the little she even had to begin with.
"You… probably shouldn't ask me…" She utters, wrapping her arms around to hold herself, and staring down as her fingers gently run over the large red mark that's been left behind.
"Okay. I won't." He states suddenly, slapping his palms against his thighs and pushing himself off of the sofa. Cassidy looks up to him with surprise and curiosity, seeing the formation of a mischievous little smirk. "I'll make us some tea instead."
He walks into the kitchen, doing his best not to clang things around as he retrieves two tea cups from the cabinet and adds water to the kettle.
"You know what though? We're forgetting something…"
"And what's that?" Cassidy asks, repositioning herself to get him into view.
"We are married."
Her eyebrow instantly raises, and her eyes flicker all over the room in an attempt to gather some sort of clarification, though obviously unable to do so.
"I'm sorry… what?"
"Shit. I'm an idiot." He replies sheepishly, a pink hue evident under the kitchen lights. "Of course, you don't remember."
"Remember what?" She inquires, only to be met with a timid shake of his head as the colour on his cheeks grows brighter. "Clue me in, Harry."
"Nope, there's been too many trips down memory lane recently, most at my expense."
"No, you have to tell me! Please?" She asks, channeling the sweetest her daughter uses whenever she needs persuasion to tip the scales in her favour.
He closes his eyes and pulls his lips inward, and Cassidy can't help but giggle under her breath as she watches him prepare to respond.
"Alright. Well, one afternoon, when we were kids… you and Gem were playing fairies." He shares, followed by a sort of grunt as he takes in a breath to divulge more. "Gem wanted to have this elaborate fairy wedding, so she made you the princess… the bride… but you needed a groom. So she found me and-"
"Dressed you up to be the fairy prince!" Cassidy exclaims, immediately covering her mouth in an effort to quiet her new excitement. "I do remember now! Didn't she put glitter all over your face?"
"I was hoping you wouldn't remember that specific detail…" He gripes, pouring the hot water into the cups, and lifting them as he starts to walk back to the sofa. He hands the hot beverage to Cassidy, and carefully lowers himself back down next to her, taking a sip of his tea before resting it down on the table in front of him.
"Well, the wedding was pretty magical." She states. Harry lifts his head, turning it slightly towards her with a proud smile stretched across his face.
"Bit of a rocky marriage though." He points out, and Cassidy's jaw drops dramatically as she swats his arm, causing his hands to be thrown up in surrender.
"That's because the prince was, and still is, kind of a twat."
Harry mimics her offended reaction, his hand flying to this against his chest, as if physically pained by her insult.
"The princess is still kind of a pain in the ass herself."
"Well, thank goodness it wasn't official!"
"Umm, excuse me, but if I remember correctly, the ceremony was done with a magic wand." He states, so matter-of-fact. "That's binding."
"Oh bloody hell." She replies, pinching the bridge of her nose, annoyed but mostly amused by the declaration.
"You're stuck with me, Cass." Harry grins, most likely from his perceived triumph of the argument, yet Cassidy can't help but feel as if he is happy with the sentiment as well. With the notion that she has to put up with him and have him around, in some capacity, forever.
She wants to lean into her instincts and make some jab about how she regrets ever putting on the fairy tutu Gemma had made her wear. But as she focuses on the green of his eyes, she feels a heat run up her neck and hit the apples of her cheeks. She's flattered by his desire to continue to be friends throughout the rest of their lives, and she has to agree that she wants the same. Despite all of their childhood torment of each other, he truly has become one of her best friends, and she can't really envision him not being around. For her and for Cecelia.
A sudden thud from the corridor outside of her flat causes Cassidy's gaze to shoot over to the front door, her lungs to gasp, her arm to swiftly stretch out to her side, and her hand to latch right onto Harry's thigh.
"Hey, it's alright." She hears him say softly, her eyes unable to focus on anything but the front door. One strong, warm palm sets on top of hers, the other begins to run up and down her back, tearing her gaze away and back onto the man beside her. The friend beside her. "You're alright."
She feels her expression go from panicked to pained, and she feels hot tears trickling down her cheeks. Another feeling, an odd feeling, begins to overwhelm her, as if her body is being pulled between alarmed tension and settled ease. The noise outside has clearly triggered an unfortunately familiar response, and yet somehow it is also being so effortlessly drawn to a comforted state. By Harry.
"Would you like me to stay for a bit? We can watch a show or something."
Cassidy nods, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins, though the intensity is decreasing as she watches Harry's caring gaze stay fixed on her, almost displaying relief with her unspoken response.
"Okay, then." He replies, pulling his lips inward, attempting to disguise a small smile that still manages to peek through by the corners of his mouth. He leans forward, grabbing the remote, and settling back into the cushions as he turns the television on.
Cassidy watches him while he scrolls, and something about such a mundane moment begins to bring her a slight amount of peace. She realizes that he seems to be one of the people, one of only a few people, who does that for her. Who actually can do that for her. And she needs all the peace she can get right now.
"Harry?" She practically whispers.
"Yes?" He replies, the light of the screen brightening his face and reflecting in his eyes as he scrolls through the viewing options.
"Would… would you… maybe, also…" She utters, clearing her throat to gain some volume, and confidence, for her next request. "Stay the night?"
His head immediately turns to her, his eyes wide, yet leaving her unable to determine what emotion is behind them. What thoughts could be causing them to react that way.
"Of course I will!" He exclaims, and more tears start to gather on her lash line at how quickly he answered, and how willing he is to do what she wants. What she needs.
He turns away, reaching to the other side of him, and twists back with one of her large blankets in hand. Cassidy scoots closer to Harry as he holds it up for her, allowing him to place the blanket on both of their laps. His arm stretches behind her on the back on the sofa, and without thinking, she leans into him, the movement of their adjustments causing her senses to be hit with his scent. It's the same as it's always been, but tonight it includes an increased, soothing element.
A few muffled noises outside momentarily grab her attention, her head slightly pointing in the direction of their origin on the other side of her front door. She lets out an exhale, louder than intended, and then feels the slightest squeeze around her shoulders.
"Are you alright? Comfortable?"
"As much as I can be, I suppose." She chuckles, accompanied by a scoff of disappointment and frustration, wishing she was able to truly calm down.
"You can… sit back up if you need to…" He utters, and she feels him begin to slowly pull away. "I can grab another blanket, or-"
She sits up, but only slightly, and only so she can meet the green eyes that are now filled with concern and uncertainty.
"No, it's not that. I just… I just don't know if I'll be able to relax fully here." She responds with a sigh, acknowledging that the events of the evening have taken their toll on her physical and mental state.
"Stay with me, then."
"What?"
"Come stay at my place."
"Harry, it's way too late." She states, confused as to his thought process behind the suggestion. "And Cece is sleeping."
"Not tonight." He replies, a bit of amusement to his tone. "Tomorrow. Pack up some things for the both of you, and just spend a few days there."
"I don't know. I don't want to impose-"
"You're not. I offered." He interrupts, seemingly annoyed yet entertained by her attempt to not inconvenience him, despite his constant reminders that she's not. This situation just feels a bit different for her. He's not responsible for making this situation any better. Yet, here he is, doing just that.
"And it's very sweet." She smiles, unintentionally, and feels a heat on her cheeks as he smiles back. "But also unnecessary. We'll be okay."
"Truth be told… I need it." He begins, bringing his balled up fist to his mouth as he clears his throat. "I won't be able to fully relax, unless I can see it… see that you're okay."
Cassidy is instantly hit with so many things at once. Her lips shut tight as she tries to swallow the lump that has instantly formed in her throat, her face tingles with the vibrant blush that has suddenly spread from her cheeks, and her abdomen tightens with something she can't quite understand.
"It would help me." He utters, a sudden timidity taking over the confidence he first used with his suggestion. "You don't have to."
"Well-" She tries to speak.
What is this feeling? What is going on in the pit of her stomach?
"But I'd like you to."
It's butterflies.
"Okay." She accepts, feeling her heart race with positivity, for the first time tonight. "If you insist."
Series Masterlist
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#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles series#harry styles imagine#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x oc#famous!harry#harry styles enemies to lovers#harry styles friends to lovers#harry styles best friend#best friend!harry#bffrry#harry styles tour#harry styles album#harry angst#harry smut#harry fluff#harry fic#harry fanfic#harry fan fiction#laceleaf series
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Sojourn Cinematic Analysis
Ok, there are going to be a few things I want to talk about so this is just a basic analysis with just my thoughts on the cinematic itself, along with some details I noticed on my first viewing. More Analyses are going to come out cause there are a few things I want to look at in more detail.
So let's get started.
First of all, I appreciate that they didn't dramatize Sojourn. What I mean is that a lot of her appeal to me is that, compared to all the other heroes, she's normal. Just a regular, grounded person. Though to us her being completely cybernetic is cool, in the Overwatch universe that's normal. Hell she didn't even get cybernetics for battle, she got them for her heath and to make living her life easier.
I think a big factor about this for me is the beginning few shots when she's getting coffee;
Both of them have cybernetics and both of them had them either fitted or altered to fit they're occupation. This is a normal thing and I love that!
Not only that but it also disproved what I personally thought and that is Sojourn didn't do any vigilante work and just quietly retired, and though it seems like that was the initial idea, it didn't stay that way. At the very least when Sojourn heard Null Sector was up to something she started to step in, do her own research, collect her own data.
Does that sound familiar?
She is doing the same thing Jack is, but I don't think this make them parallels. I think this makes them foils.
Jack has been gathering data on Talon in order to fuel his crusade, a crusade which multiple people call out as an unhealthy obsession. Sojourn on the other hand gathered this data out of necessity, she knew something bad was going on and she knew that the regular law enforcement wouldn't be able to handle it, so she took matters into her own hands.
Now let's talk about Sojourns guilt about testifying and how the public seemed to react to it. It seems that some people saw Sojourn testifying as inspirational. Meanwhile Sojourn herself sees it as a sacrifice, something she needed to do. A necessity.
Sojourn is one of the three characters we see who join the new Overwatch who were disillusioned from the organisation long before it's fall, the other two being Cassidy and Angela. One of which also testified against Overwatch. All three of them believe that the original Overwatch lost it's way but only two of them needed to be talked back into joining.
Despite everything Sojourn is re-joining without any outside influence, yes, she initially refused the call but as we see in the cinematic, she get quarterly visits from the police. It wouldn't be smart to accept the initial recall because she knows she's being monitored. Again that theme of necessity.
I haven't read her book yet so I might update on this theme after in it's own post but now let's get back into what I thought of the cinematic itself.
As always the lighting, animation and colours were beautiful. I think it functioned really well as a "calm before the storm" type video, meant to show how quickly Null Sector acted while also showing the little seeds of trouble that were brewing beforehand. I was honestly hoping we would see Pharah's dad but that was more of a me thing.
The set up showing that Sojourn knew they were coming for her after what she the night before was amazing. It was a fantastic set up!
Anyway, stay tuned cause there are a few more things I want to talk about because of this cinematic but they might take awhile. So I hope this was enjoyable and I can't wait to continue this analysis in future posts!
#overwatch#overwatch 2#overwatch lore#overwatch headcanons#analysis#sojourn#overwatch sojourn#vivian chase#calling cinematic overwatch
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🥀 Yandere Deadlock Cassidy Headcanons
Smooth-talking pretty boy with aim that the New West has never seen the likes of before, Cole Cassidy had made a name for himself at a young age. Though much of his fame is from his pure talents, make no mistake in thinking that Cole isn’t a smart man. Often he plays the dumb cowboy role and it fools many an ignorant man. But he knows his strengths and just how to play them.
At first glance, you get what you see with this guy. He wears his heart on his sleeve and lets himself be known to the rest of the world fearlessly. That isn’t to say he doesn’t have his secrets, however. There are cards that he plays close to his chest and he uses them wisely.
As the Deadeye, he’s known for his keen sight, and this applies to more than just his aim. Reading people and surveying his surroundings comes naturally to him. He does it in his sleep. He’s untouchable in every sense of the word.
But everyone loves the guy. Well, most the townsfolk do. He steals from the rich and gives to the poor, fancies himself a modern robin hood. If need be, he can coax the big players, too. He’s the kind of guy you can sit down and have a beer with. He’s good at playing both sides of the fence, but prefers more humble company.
He takes pride in adding notches onto his bedpost, and when he sees you, that’s just what he intended for you to be. But he quickly realized he felt something more. He could see himself becoming an honest man for you, giving up his criminal ways to grow old with you out in the pastures of the New West.
Cassidy is a chivalrous yandere. Definitely the knight in shining armor kind of guy. Anyone wants to try something with you, they’ll soon regret it. Honestly, the only fools dumb enough to challenge him had it coming to them anyway. He’ll try to find any excuse he can to put on some sort of dramatic display of his love for you, often through violence. He can’t help it, he’s an outlaw.
Of course, he does have a sweet side. He showers you with gifts, compliments, pet names. Unless you’re completely oblivious, you can tell when he likes you. He’ll pay close attention to all the times you mention having an interest in something. Before you know it, it’s yours. Wrapped with a bow and everything.
Everyone knows he’s sweet on you. Ashe used to tease him about it in an attempt to dampen his flourishing feelings, but it had the opposite effect. He’s giddy as a schoolgirl at the mention of your name and he often brags about having the prettiest darling wrapped around his finger.
#yandere!headcanons#yandere au#yandere#yandere overwatch#dark overwatch#yandere cole cassidy#yandere cole cassidy x reader#cole cassidy x reader#dark cole cassidy#dark cassidy#yandere cassidy#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#tw yandere
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oc makes kip dinner because he's stressed/had a bad day/just Not Good. how it turns out is up to you lol
837 words
orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)
set in immortal fears/the belt corruption au. i wanna say i read this prompt wrong and accidentally reversed their roles, but i think its cute anyways so youre gonna get it like that lmao
kip says fuck like three times. those are your warnings. other than that yeah its just fluff
@stormbornpirate
on ao3
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Cassidy stirred, slowly arriving back to the edge of consciousness. His eyes slowly fluttered open, finding himself tightly tucked in bed under at least a handful of blankets, head surrounded by more pillows than usually. He felt warm, comfortable, which was definitely a change to the recent feelings of inadequacy and the dark kind of tiredness he had been trapped in for the past few days now.
He turned from one side to another, the act a bit labored with the pile of blankets on him, Cassidy expecting to see a familiar man asleep in the bed next to him. Much to his surprise Kip was nowhere to be found though, his side of the bed completely empty. Cassidy’s brows furrowed a little bit, but he kept the panic at bay. Maybe Kip was downstairs, taking care of the house, maybe he was streaming, keeping himself busy while he was feeling better and Cassidy was the one bedridden for once.
Cassidy inhaled deeply, closing his eyes again as he settled back into his nest, a soft little smile crossing his lips at the potential kindness of his thoughtful boyfriend.
…Until he finally registered the quiet beeping of the fire alarm coming from downstairs that had woken him up in the first place.
His eyes opened again, the blond pushing most of the blankets off of him. Still feeling cold, and some part of his still rational brain thinking, he grabbed one blanket with him, wrapping himself in it before Cassidy headed out of the bedroom. The beeping was definitely louder in the hallway, but he couldn’t see any smoke or feel the heat. He could admittedly smell something burning, but it didn’t feel alarming.
Maybe it was because Cassidy could hear Kip’s voice loudly cursing somewhere downstairs.
Making his way down, Cassidy wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Kip in the kitchen, just in time for him to finally get the fire alarm to stop from almost mocking beeping at him. Exhausted and still cursing, Kip threw it on the kitchen table before almost too dramatically sitting down on one of the chairs as he sighed, running a hand over his face.
“For fucks sakes…”
“Everything okay?”
Kip visibly jumped, wide eyes shooting towards Cassidy who he had obviously not heard coming into the kitchen. As he registered it just being the blond Kip sighed, then groaned, brows furrowing clearly in annoyance.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” His eyes dragged back to the fire alarm, narrowing. “This fucker…”
“What did you burn?” Cassidy asked, walking over to the stove, raising a brow at the empty stove top. Kip almost sheepishly looked towards the open backdoor leading to the deck in the back garden, Cassidy following his eyes as he noticed Kip’s attention being elsewhere than himself.
“I tried…” Kip started, but swallowed the rest of his words, watching Cassidy wobble over to the open doorway, peeking outside. A small smile that he managed to hide from Kip crossed his lips at the sight of the pot sitting at the opposite edge of the deck, still slightly smoking. He indeed had tried, whatever it had been.
“I…” Cassidy turned away from the doorway, looking back at Kip. The Brit wasn’t looking at him anymore, his eyes were back on the fire alarm on the table, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Whatever had happened, he was clearly distressed about it.
“I-I wanted to make you something. You’ve been taking care of me so much while I haven’t been able to do anything and I just wanted to return the favor and…” Kip sighed, hanging his head down almost in shame. “Sorry. I’m such a fuck up.”
Cassidy looked at him for a moment, finally a soft smile blossoming on his lips. He walked up to Kip, carefully reaching a hand from the depth of his blanket, cupping his cheek and directing his eyes finally back up to him. Cassidy wasn’t going to lie, seeing Kip being so distressed over just a minor inconvenience hurt his heart, even more so knowing this was over something Kip wanted to do for him.
Instead of saying anything about it, Cassidy leaned down, pressing a kiss on Kip’s lips. The sincerity of it all and the soft gesture clearly caught him off guard, it taking a moment for Kip to respond to the kiss.
“You tried. I couldn’t ask more from you,” Cassidy smiled at him as they parted, watching the familiar soft blush creep its way on Kip’s cheeks. “We can order takeout today. And then migrate back to bed. That place is so comfortable, but it’s lonely without you.”
Kip took in his words for a moment before finally a small smile made its way on his lips, him nodding his head. He stood up, arms wrapping around Cassidy’s blanket covered body, pulling him closer for another kiss, this time clearly with more passion and purpose.
“I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.”
#drabble#setting: belt corruption arc#character: kip sabian#character: orange cassidy#ship: orangekip#wrestling fanfiction#aew fanfiction#request
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"Comfortable"
Synopsis: Baptiste experiences conflicting feelings while taking some time to breathe after his first mission with Overwatch, finding comfort from an unexpected place.
a/n: HI! this is the first in what will hopefully be a series of short, fluff stories about some of my favourite Overwatch heroes. It's just for fun, and hopefully a way for me to flex my writing muscles as I haven't in a long time. I try to adhere to canon as much as possible, but there will definitely be some inconsistencies. Enjoy :)
Baptiste was sat in the lower deck of the ship, absentmindedly fiddling with the strap on his glove. Since he linked up with Cole Cassidy, and the rest of his recruits, his mind has been cluttered with the conflicting feelings that came with choosing a side.
He’d done so before, of course, but often wondered whether it was a choice or more just an instinctive act of self preservation. Was it the commitment that scared him? Whether it’s Overwatch or Talon, his latest choice will send him on a new, unwritten path. While this new direction will surely be more altruistic than his previous, it is sure to be just as dangerous, if not more so. The stakes have never been higher than they are right now, and while perhaps Baptiste didn’t like to admit it, that scared him. Just as he felt as if these thoughts were about to overwhelm him, a hand gently tapped him on the shoulder.
“You awake, partner? Wasn’t sure if you’d drifted off…” Cassidy said, sitting opposite Baptiste at the table. He laid his hat down like a cowboy walking into a bar, not unlike the ones Baptiste remembers seeing in those old black and white movies. He couldn’t remember what they were saying, but the images flashed across his mind. It was oddly comforting in a way.
“I’m awake, mon ami. Just… thinking.” Baptiste replied. Cassidy paused before responding, trying to read Baptiste’s expression. Sometimes it’s best not to pry, if someone is lost in their head. Cassidy decided to make light of things instead.
“Too much thinking can be dangerous.” Cassidy replied, with a smirk. He lit a cigar and leant back in his seat, stretching dramatically. Baptiste smirked slightly, unable to avoid noticing quite how handsome Cassidy looked as he stretched out.
“Is that so? I guess you’re probably safe then. I don’t get the impression that you do a lot of thinking, vachér. And…” Baptiste paused and looked at Casidy’s cigar, “I’m not sure Fareeha will approve of you smoking on the jet.”
“Well, I guess it’s a mighty good thing she’s a little preoccupied flying the thing right now, ain’t it?” Cassidy retorts, smirking as he lets out an exaggerated puff of smoke. Baptiste enjoys the smell of the cigar, it invokes another fragmented childhood memory. Sitting outside a corner store with a friend, kicking his feet and getting the faintest smell of cigar smoke from the man that ran the store. Again, it’s just flashes. Like the black and white cowboy movies, except this was real. And of course, all before his world went to hell. The first time it did so, anyway.
“True. I wouldn’t like to get on her bad side, or Zarya’s for that matter. I’d be careful, cowboy.” Baptiste replies, laughing to himself slightly.
“I’d be more scared of Song if I was you, she’s a firecracker.” Cassidy replies, letting out another exaggerated plume of smoke. Baptiste couldn’t help but notice how… easy it felt to be around Cole. As someone that has spent a large part of their life running, or at least wanting to, when he found someone he felt good around, it usually gave him reason to stay. He’d found that once before, a lifetime ago, but he couldn’t think about that now.
“Fair, fair. I’ll give you that. Who would’ve thought the cowboy would be the least intimidating member of our little squad?” Baptiste jokes, giving Cassidy a wink.
“Now, now… Don’t break my heart here.” Cassidy replies, smirking at Baptiste as he stubs the cigar out on the table. “Don’t panic, I’m gonna clean it up.” He grumbled as he threw the stub in the bin. “And you know I’m the second least intimidating, the least being yourself, of course.”
Baptiste feigned outrage, gasping exaggeratedly and giving Cassidy a look. “You know I have a rifle in my bag, right?” He asked, laughing out loud. “And, well, if you’re the second-least intimidating, you are also the second most handsome. I’ve got you beat there.” Baptiste smirks.
Cassidy matches his smirk, “well, I’m almost flattered you think I’m the second most handsome.” Baptiste can’t help but blush, he looks down at the table before returning his gaze to meet Cassidy’s. He had briefly, although not deeply, touched on his blossoming attraction to Cassidy with Fareeha earlier, but in this moment where it felt like they could almost be flirting - it was paralysing.
“You know, I might try and get some sleep.” Baptiste said, standing up abruptly and heading in the direction of the two bunks. One was occupied by Zarya, the other had been occupied by Cassidy, until he emerged and freed Baptiste from the confines of his own head.
Cassidy looked disappointed, he had been enjoying their back and forth. But he understood, Baptiste hadn’t slept since they left Busan. “Fair enough, I didn’t make the bed after I got out. Sorry about that…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s okay, Mon ami. I will survive.” Baptiste replied, the two didn’t say another word. Baptiste went into the bunk, setting down his bag and lying down on the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it certainly wasn’t the worst place he had slept. The bed was unmade, and the faint smell of cigar smoke hung in the air. “Damn, he smoked in here too. Fareeha is going to have a field day.” Baptiste said to himself, he removed some of his newly built armour, and tried to get some sleep.
As he drifted off, his head was awash once more with these all too familiar feelings. Regret, fear, a desire to run and fragments of his other lives. A young boy fighting for survival, a man making a deal with the devil and this new Baptiste, that he was still getting to know. A familiar, and different, smell of smoke began to assault his senses. It was not a cigar, but the smell of the thick flames that fateful day in Port-de-Paix. The last time he saw Mauga, who up until he left Talon, was one of the most important people in his life. And perhaps still was, in spite of everything. Baptiste tossed and turned, although he was in a deep sleep, his body was tense as he felt these fragmented thoughts ripple through his body and mind. He didn’t hear the bunk door open, or the slow cautious footsteps or even the low, grumbled call of “Baptiste.” It wasn’t until, once again, that gloved hand touched his shoulder that he could be freed from his own mind.
“Cassidy? What are you doing?” Baptiste asked, as he shot up in bed. Cassidy was crouched next to him, his hand still on Baptiste’s shoulder. As Baptiste woke, he removed it slowly.
“I… uh, well, I could hear you… talking. You were talking in your sleep. I came in to check on you and it seemed you were having some pretty darn intense dreams.” Cassidy replies, avoiding Baptiste’s gaze. Baptiste couldn’t help but smile a little bit, it was sweet that Cassidy was showing concern for him. But he tried to smother the butterflies that were steadily beginning to flutter in his chest, it could just be regular teammate concern, nothing more.
“Well, thank you. I’m okay, I just…” Baptiste trails off, Cassidy looks up and meets his gaze. They seem to understand one another, without saying anything at all. Baptiste got the feeling Cassidy understood how it felt to be chased by your demons, both real and metaphorical, even in your dreams.
“It’s alright, settle. I know.” Cassidy replies, his hand returning to Baptiste’s shoulder. Baptiste let out a sigh, laying his head down again, but still maintaining eye contact with Cassidy. Although he didn’t elaborate further, Baptiste did feel understood by Cassidy. These two men, with very different journeys, perhaps had more common ground than either of them had thought initially. Perhaps that’s why Baptiste felt so at ease around him. Not just because Cassidy is the only one that knows about his past, but because out of all of this new squad, Cassidy is the only one that understands what it’s like to have something of a chequered past.
“You know, if you’d like, I could stay here a little while. Just make sure you get back to sleep okay. Lord knows you need some shut eye, I’ve got the feeling shit’ll be hitting the fan by the time we touch down in Gibraltar.” Cassidy says, leaning against the wall next to the bed Baptiste is lying in.
“That… That would be great.” Baptiste replies, turning on his side to face Cassidy, who is leaning against the wall with his hat over his face. Baptiste wants to laugh, now he really looks like one of those cowboys from the old movies. But rather than laugh, he simply shuts his eyes. He enjoys the feeling of Cassidy being in the room, it certainly feels different to when he tried to sleep in here alone. Somehow the burden of his past feels ever so slightly lighter, just by being with Cassidy. As his eyelids got heavier, and his muscles stopped tensing, he realised he was feeling something he’d not felt in a long, long time. Comfortable.
#overwatch#overwatch 2#baptiste#jean baptiste augustin#cole cassidy#new blood#baptiste x cassidy#bapssidy#overwatch fic#writing#creative writing#overwatch fanfiction
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making a zine of every badflower song until they release a new one (11/35)
#badflower#zine#zines#this is how the world ends#sasshole#all badflower zines#a dramatic reading by cassidy#got ahead of myself and put a sticker on the wrong page so had to rethink the whole structure#all things considered im pretty happy with it#Spotify
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Something There Vignette #2 - The Carriage
A/N: Welcome back to all who have been following this story aka my besties who have been either helping me beta reading and editing this with me or those just along for the ride reading snippets and listening to me ramble - here’s a second part of Chapter 1! [Taglist in the notes!]
Those who are new: Hello there! This is a fanfic for Lord Cassidy from Mr. Malcolm’s List and since he didn’t get a love interest in the film and is PRIME HR hero material, I gave him one! Her name is Lady Persephone Parker-Greens and you can read all about her in the links below. This is a childhood best friends to lovers story with marriage of convenience and a touch of forbidden romance.
Masterlist | Vignette #1 | Vignette #3
Yall read The Waltz and came back? Okay so some context, after the waltz they are both ambushed by other suitors and debs respectively and it’s just a filler scene that was too boring to post but probably will sharpen it up by the time I post the fic. The following vignette takes place after their separation at the Ball and they are on their way home together since they’re neighbours. Happy Reading yall!!
[Added a watermark to my edit this time! I mean this is a very niche edit but if anyone does want to share - please let me know beforehand but reblogs are the most appreciated! Thank you]
As they left Amberton Manor, Sephy started to spring back to life. She could be the life of the party if she pleased and the occasion called for it. However, there was a guarded wall up with her performances in the Ton. If one knew where to look. Cassie knew. Now, as she pulled herself to his side, she allowed herself to relax in his presence. This is when the real fun began.
"There she is." He chuckled, his arm around her waist squeezing her playfully closer to him. They were so close she could feel the vibrations of his laugh against her own body. "I could have sworn you were about to put yourself to bed in the middle of the ballroom floor after Dick Chumley tried to engage you a second time."
Finally feeling free from prying eyes, she produced her fan hanging from her wrist and delivered a quick swat against his chest. "I would never. I will have you know, I am the perfect debutante" She gasped dramatically before hitting him again, lightly this time. "And that was for ignoring me while talking to Lady Feather."
"Lady Feather? You're slipping tonight, my dear Sephy." He teased and she couldn't help but smile at the endearment. It was just like any other night of theirs so why did it feel different? She shook her head to settle herself as they reached her carriage.
"Oh, I know exactly what her name was. It was Lady Gwyneth. She had far too many feathers, I'm surprised your nose was not aggravated." They left the conversation there as Cassie excused himself for a moment, running over to his valet and carriage. Most likely to brief that he'll be travelling with her tonight and to follow them.
She was opening the door to let herself in when he jogged back and swatted her hand away. Holding out his hand to guide her in, he opened the door for her. Sephy clasped his hand grateful and climbed in. Once she situated herself comfortably, she tugged him in. They both underestimated her strength of her pull as he tumbled inside and landed squarely on top of her.
She fell back onto the seat and their bodies pressed against each other under his weight. This time it did not feel as alarming as it did in the ballroom. Sephy was starting to enjoy being pressed up against Cassie. Before he could put out his arms to stop himself from crushing her, their faces came close together and their lips crashed into each other. Fire was the only thought that ran through her mind. It was the only way to describe how she felt having his lips on hers. Every part of her was set aflame.
The initial shock wore off a moment later and Cassie pulled back. He stared earnestly into her eyes, silently asking Sephy for permission to continue. They both knew their whole night had been building up to this. The waltz had been the turning point for them both, most of all for Sephy who was seeing Cassie in a new light. Oh, it was maddening how desperately she wanted to have him kiss her again.
Persephone didn’t need a moment to think before nodding enthusiastically. Tilting her head up, she pressed her lips against his. She let herself melt into the kiss. Her hands instinctively found his hair, her fingers tangling themselves through his thick locks while Cassie’s own hands came to cradle her head gently. Her fingers trailed down to stroke the nape of his neck, earning her a moan from him. She smiled satisfied against his lips as she brought her hands down to his lapels to tug him closer to her. They shifted their position so their legs could slot perfectly together. With one hand running through her hair, Cassie slid the other down the curve of her neck - letting her shiver in the wake of his touch before cupping her breast through her dress. His thumb rubbing against the hard pebble of her nipple, causing her to whimper into his mouth.
For those few minutes, they forgot themselves. They were completely wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world outside. Then the door closed behind them, the noise startled the two. Persephone swore she jumped out of her skin while Cassie jumped away from her, landing on the seat across from her.
She used to always adore how well she could read him and how expressive he could be. Tonight, it felt like a curse. It was crystal clear how he felt about the kiss. Watching him carefully, she could pick out his furrowed eyebrows, eyes trained to the ground - he wouldn’t even look at her - and it had brought out his worst habit: chewing his lip to the point of drawing blood. She did take pride in how flushed he was from the kiss with his once perfectly styled hair all mussed up and swollen lips she was sure she could spend a lifetime kissing. Before she could part her lips to speak, he spoke first. He was stammering and fidgeting with nerves. Whatever was he nervous about?
“Sephy - Persephone, I apologise. That was highly inappropriate and… I shouldn’t have done that. It-it shouldn’t have gone that far. Good God, I compromised you.” He covered his hands over his mouth. She knew he was one for theatrics but this was too dramatic, even for her taste.
“Thank you for the delightfully astute observation, Caswell.” She said dryly, rolling her eyes at him. She was upset that ‘compromising her’ seemed to be his main priority. She hated that he seemed to regret what just happened and so she deflected. If he hated it, then she was going to pretend she didn’t care for it. “It was just a kiss, you do not have to get your breeches in a twist.”
“How are you so cavalier about this? I stole your virtue!” He dropped his head into his hands and let out a long groan. She could only glare at him with mild annoyance. With his dramatics, she couldn’t even enjoy how much she liked being ‘compromised’ in his words.
“You didn’t steal anything, for Christ’s sake!” She leaned over to take his hands in hers. He slowly lifted his head up and finally looked her in the eye. She rubbed soothing circles on his hand while she reached out to caress his face and ran her fingers through his hair gently. He slowly started to calm down.
“And I’m cavalier about this because it’s within our discretion, Cassie. It never happened if we don’t say anything.” She assured him. It hurt her to say it, but it was true. She loved him too much as a best friend to trap him into a marriage over a silly kiss that he certainly seemed to have hated.
“I am not going to lie to your parents, Persephone.” She did not care for the way he hissed her name and dropped her hands from his. “I did compromise you and I will be asking your parents’ permission for your hand in marriage the moment we get off this carriage.” He insisted honourably. He was so earnest about it all, she couldn’t hate him for it. What she did hate however was the finality in which he said it. She narrowed her eyes at him, staring him down with a glare usually directed at others for misstepping but he knew it all too well.
“Marriage?! Please tell me this is one of your jokes, Cassie. I assure you it is absolutely not funny.” Her tone was incredibly flat. The seriousness in his eyes told her exactly what she needed to know.
She crossed her arms and stared hard at him.
“Does your future bride get any say in the matter?” Her sharp and sarcastic tone was giving him whiplash. His eyes flashed and she could tell he was wounded. She had pushed her tone a little too far - making a mockery of his proposition by calling herself his bride. Nevertheless, she steeled herself and kept staring until he answered her.
“It’s the honourable thing to do, dearest and were you not just complaining days ago that you were already tired of the season and wanted a husband to fall into your lap? Well, here I am.” He grinned up at her. Now it was his turn to reach out and laced her fingers in his.
Shaking her head, she started to re-evaluate how her life had come to this. She had said that. Irony truly was a cruel mistress. Her thumb dragged across his as she gazed down contemplating at the sight. Who wouldn’t want to be married to their best friend? It was not as if she had never considered the thought of marrying him before. She was not one to be fussy about her marriage built on love. She knew exactly the kind of world she was born into. Marriage was a transaction and the safety net of the next chapter in a woman’s life. If one were to be rather pessimistic, it has been said that marriage was a woman’s legal death. She knew it would not be that awful with Cassie. Yet she knew if she allowed this, she would be robbing him of actual love. She knew he wanted a love match. He always has, ever since they were children. He was the dreamer and she was the practical one.
“No, Cassie, I will not be robbing you of your independence. And aren't you supposed to be upset that you've been ensnared by the claws of matrimony?”
“Must you always forget, Sephy? I’m not like them - you know me better than that.”
“Why are you so eager? We’re not in love.” She shot back.
Before he could answer, the carriage came to a stop. He huffed, "All this bickering when I could have been getting better acquainted with my bride." His eyes twinkled at the comment as he leaned in close to her. His eyes dropped to her lips for the briefest of moments. She glared at him when she realised he was teasing her. He never knew how to be serious, could he?
His wit was one of the things she enjoyed most about him. Tonight, it made her want to strangle him. Just as she was about to protest, the carriage door opened and her mask came on. She looked to him with pure adoration and was all smiles as Footman Jack helped her from the carriage. Forging forward first, a good distance was kept between them that no one but Cassie would be none the wiser to. Once they reached her front door, she spun on her heel to face him.
"I trust you'll keep our discretion tonight to yourself. Good night, Lord Cassidy." She gave him a cold curtsey and left him wondering where it all went wrong.
"May I at least walk you to your room?" He hurried to catch up with her and gave her a pleading look. She never could say no to him. She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to say anything else.
The exhaustion of the day was weighing on her. Sensing this, he shuffled closer to offer up his shoulder to lean on. Old habits die hard and Persephone laid her head against his shoulder as he guided their way to her room. Breathing came easier when her parents were nowhere to be seen lounging in the drawing room. She knew Cassie well enough to know that he would have somehow let it slip to her parents about their indiscretion. It was an uncomfortable silence on the walk to her room. She absolutely despised it. This is exactly why she never let the thought of marrying Cassie go beyond considerations. All superficial attractions did was ruin friendships. Theirs had long transcended a friendship, they had a deep lifelong bond that couldn’t be compared to anything else. She wouldn’t trade it for anything else, not even a marriage based on lust with him. It was simply not worth it.
When they finally reached the threshold of her room, Cassie was the first one to break the silence. “I truly am sorry for tonight, Sephy.”
She couldn’t fathom what was so horrible and regretful about the kiss that he had to be sorry. She may not want to marry him because he felt pressured to do so but she did not regret that kiss. Not even a little bit, not even at all. It made her want to scream desperately, “I’m not!” at him but she was far too tired to muster the energy. All she could do was nod mutely.
“Promise me you will not tell my parents about tonight?” She pleaded softly - they would without a doubt have the two of them be married before the month’s end. The idea of Cassie resenting her later in their lives for trapping him in a loveless marriage broke her heart. There could be love in their marriage, just not the one he wanted.
He dipped his head in affirmation, silent and deep in his thoughts. She wished he would tell her exactly what was wrong. While they prided themselves on knowing what was wrong with the other most days, they could not read each other’s mind. This certainly was uncharted territory for the both of them. Sephy was so sure he was going to turn and walk away without a friendly goodbye when he took a breath. She watched him intently, unsure of his next course of action.
“Sephy…” He started to fidget with his hands as he always does when he was nervous, which was most of the time. She took a step closer to him and clasped his hands in hers.
“Yes?” Looking up at him, her eyes were gentle and encouraging. You can tell me anything, was the unspoken reminder. He managed a small smile.
“Would you consider being courted by me? We would not have to marry, however it would give us a chance to explore a romantic attachment.”
The hope that filled his blue blue eyes made her heart ache. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t break his heart. She swallowed every one of her protests and slowly inclined her head.
“May I have some time to think about it? It’s been quite the night, Cassie.” She laughed softly, attempting to lighten the dark mood that had been cast upon them. His lips tilted up to match her laugh but it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it always does.
“Of course.” He stepped close to her and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Have a good night, dear Sephy.”
Persephone had closed her eyes when he kissed her forehead, allowing the moment to wash over her. When she opened them, Cassie was gone.
#Mr. Malcolm's List#Mr. Malcolm's List Fanfiction#Lord Cassidy#Lord Cassidy x OC#OC: Lady Persephone Parker-Green#Something There#Cassephone#Oliver Jackson-Cohen#FC: Simone Ashley#The Viscountess Writes
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[nonbinary, she/they] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CASSIDY COOKE]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [MAYA HAWKE]. You must be the [TWENTY-THREE] year old [STUDENT, MUSEUM TOUR GUIDE]. Word is you’re [FUN-LOVING] but can also be a bit [RESTLESS] and your favorite song is [ QUANTUM PHYSICS BY RUBY WATERS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY TOWERS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! @aurorabayaesthetic
tw: mentions of homophobia and transphobia.
Name: cassidy elise cooke
Gender: non-binary
Pronouns: she/they
Age: twenty-three
Birthdate: nov 29th ( sagittarius sun. cancer moon. scorpio rising )
Sexual Orientation: pansexual
Romantic Orientation: panromantic
Profession: student (graphic design major). museum tour guide
Positive Traits: adventurous. determined. empathetic. optimistic
Negative Traits: blunt. secretive. dramatic. moody.
Details:
Cassidy was born and raised in Aurora Bay by their father Kieran Cooke and their paternal grandparents, Declan and Bridget Cooke. Their mother was never in the picture.
They have three older brothers, all with a pretty solid age gap between. The closet being 8 years older.
Cass is convinced their only half siblings and that their father got someone pregnant who was already married or couldn't afford a kid.
No one has ever given them a straight answer, which only fueled Cassidy's obsession with mysteries. They love to solve even the smallest of them, likely since their unsure if they'll ever figure out the one they want most.
They read a lot as a kid and was always writing or drawing. They kept a journal full of all their theories, stories and just general gossip. Something small they could carry with them when they were out exploring and playing.
They were a very active kid, often found in a tree or some high place, sprawled out and writing. Or with their father and grandfather, taking apart cars or building.
It was obvious at a young age, Cassidy wasn't a girlie girl. It didn't bother their grandparent as much as it did Kieran. Bridget tried to encourage more "feminine" things, but the only things Cass was interested in learning from them was how to garden and cook. And that became enough.
Eventually everyone made peace with it. Was it a long road? Sure. They fought with their father constantly. Eventually their name was met with a long sigh or a grumble when they got into fights, stuck their nose where it didn't belong or didn't conform to the things he felt she should be doing or be interested it. It was fine. Begrudgingly so, but fine all the same. It was the same when they came out in middle school and by the time they hit high school, it was something just accepted about them. Not celebrated, but tolerated and yeah, that was enough for everyone. For a while anyway.
Cassidy wasn't the best student. They talked too much, spent too much time doodling or writing or after joining up with the school paper, uncovering drama. They considered themselves a bit of a crusader for the little guy/girl/person. Though their tactics have never been particularly tactful and a bit...exaggerated. You hated them or loved them and Cass was ok with it being more of the former than the latter.
Most would think journalism was the obvious choice by the time they graduated. But Cass decided to take a different route, leaning more into their art and design skills. Their reason? Actually pursuing it would make it more work than fun. Plus they wanted to take some time between, a gap year or two, to explore. Do their own thing.
They bounced around, doing freelance design for money and other odd jobs for two years. And in those years discovered more about themselves and others, including the fact they were more than just gay, but trans/non-binary. It was freeing to finally have the language to describe what they felt and the time and space to explore it outside of the thinly layered tolerance at home.
A home they returned to due to a discounted tuition grant once their older sibling, a professor, hit the qualifications. They decided to officially pursue a degree in design. They haven't come out as non-binary to their family, or rather their father/grandparents. They know it's not something they'd understand and really don't want the fight even though it eats at them.
Living in Aurora Bay Towers makes it easier to live their life without the strain of it all though. And really, life back in Aurora Bay has been pretty great for the last three years. Their last year is sure to be just as good, especially after joining the student paper. It was bound to happen eventually, call it a siren's call if you will. But yeah, they still dabble in freelance design, get to hang out/work at the art museum whenever and yeah, life's pretty good.
Connections:
eden o'connell // rival.
Wanted Connections:
can I say everything?
a best friend. artist buddies. unlikely friends. drinking buddies. muses. positive influences. a tutor. a roommate maybe?
annoyances. frienemies. oil & water. bad vibes
flirts. one night stands. fwbs. crushes. ewb. make out buddies. dates. once you have their attention it can be intense but she falls in and out of feelings quickly. wants to find that person though and isn’t afraid of trying on every shoe till one fits.
like this and i’ll come to you for some plotting.
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unique writing asks: 1, 5, 7 (for any and as many WIP/s as you want), and 30
thank you valen <3 i hope you're doing good!
1. What themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?
tbh its less about what doesn't get explored often and more like, the way that a lot of people do it doesn't do it for me so i gotta make it my fucking self. a lot of it does center around representation for men especially and most importantly queer and poc men. mlm relationships that aren't just teenagers, that aren't just completely happy and non problematic, that have MASCULINE men and positive visions of masculinity. nonbinary masc leaning characters, men over 30 that are complex and have rich inner lives and rich emotions especially with other men.
also black fantasy that isn't "black first" -- i really don't know how to explain it but as a black person i am MAD tired that every fantasy that a black person is in always tends to come with some caveat about being black or showcases black struggle, or they're a minority. i want fantasy that is a majority black cast and has nothing to do with them being black. i want fantasy where every character is an individual and their skin tone has nothing to do with the story. i want queer people who's stories who deadass have nothing to do with being queer they just ARE. i'm tired of having to lead everything with my identity and not being able to be just a GUY and i feel strongly about that in my works too. like yes, all my works are queer and poc and nd centered. but them overcoming these things or having challenges with these things isn't always the point, ESPECIALLY not with race like i am SO FUCKING TIRED of my race being a factor in fantasy man like i'm exhausted.
5. Would you rather write a happy ending that soothes the soul or a tragic ending that hurts the heart?
happy endings. i refuse to write sad endings. AT MOST i will write bittersweet endings, but i just dislike writing endings that are tragic. tragedies can be super good but i just don't like things to be super dour and i don't like things that steal away my hope. i want there to be some sort of hope there, even if it was hard won and hurts a little.
30. What is some of the best writing advice you’ve read or received? Why does it work for you?
honestly the best advice i ever learned or got was to write things that make YOU happy and to worry about the themes and shit later. the thing is: everyone has morals or things they believe in or shit that is important to them; trying to force them out and into a story is the easiest way to stifle whatever creativity that you have about the idea or the characters etc. if you're trying to FORCE yourself to create a message instead of letting one form naturally, then it just gets rough as shit. and at least for me, i've found that when i write what i want to write and focus on the shit that i enjoy, messages and themes come out on their own anyway.
7. Favorite description in your wip? (If asked more than once, respond with a new piece each time)
prepare for a lot and so i'm putting it under a cut lmao: sorry in advance for this overload but prose is probably the thing i'm proudest of generally speaking
CAGE
His first study of Hanzo wasn’t entirely fair to the man; clouded by anger, and distrust, and not to be dramatic, but definitely a bit of apprehension, but perhaps this was the first time Cassidy was truly seeing Hanzo. He’d thought the elder Shimada’s nose was like the jut of a mountain cliff; but was there anything more majestic than seeing the peak of a mountain obscured by clouds at the crest of dawn? His eyebrows were severe, but why did Cassidy only just now notice that they feathered at their ends like the wings of tiny birds? Hanzo looked like Genji in Blackwatch; when he snarled, when he let his expression fall flat, and lifeless. But here, and now, with a soft linen towel draped about his shoulders, his dragon tattoo near iridescent in the cresting evening, his hair once again down and fanning his shoulders, and gazing up at the expansive blanket of the stars with a quiet and meditative eye, Hanzo looked practically seraphic.
COME TO BED (one of my 3 buddy daddies fics)
“We can’t do this unless you take it off too.” And as with everything, Rei ceded. It was a painful show of trust; Kazuki could see it in how he hesitated but his hands kept moving, kept unzipping his tracksuit, tossed it; shrugged out of his tank top revealing a chest Kazuki had seen many times before riddled in scars. But it was different now; to touch it, to taste it, to feel Rei shudder beneath his ministrations, to watch him gasp and tilt his head back. Kazuki wasn’t sure what was more intoxicating: his skin, his reactions, or the trust they suddenly built here. They couldn’t go back after all of this, and like with Miri they wouldn’t. They’d fight, they’d fuck up, but Kazuki was beyond the point of not putting a name to this thing between them and Rei must’ve felt the same because he was here. He was here, here, here. Kazuki thought it and kissed it like a mantra to Rei’s collar, Rei’s stomach, Rei’s thighs.
WILDFLOWERS IN THE PAVEMENT (one of my 3 buddy daddies fics, warning for nsfw)
Better. His eyes seemed to say. That Rei looked better like this; domestic and falling apart in the safety of his arms, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat and love. Rei felt better like this. Suwa Rei was becoming some distant thing to him—some cloak he donned before slipping out into the night, some second skin that was becoming too small to crawl in. This Rei, who let Kazuki strip his cock raw until he was over sensitive and panting, wrapping his legs even tighter around Kazuki’s back. This Rei, who met Kazuki’s wine dark eyes with a plea, a promise, with love, with need.
“K-Kazuki.”
“I’ve got you.” Kazuki said and it was enough, it was enough.
PARAMOUR -- dude there's gonna be a lot i went loco on the paramour prose
Hyacinthus glanced over his shoulder, only slightly; not enough to draw attention to it. The voice that rang in his ear was but a passing whisper, smokey like an open fire, and sent that same warmth chasing through Hyacinthus’s gut. In his peripheral, he caught sight of a plain black crow mask. In the dim electric light of the room, it glimmered with embedded black gems, only just so to give it the illusion of motion. It was a half mask like his own; the slow smile that came to the person’s face when they realized Hyacinthus was looking was far too telling.
##
Pretty dead leaves of fire and gold had begun to coat the cobblestoned streets of Halifax when Hyacinthus received another one of Aloe’s letters.
##
He didn’t take Hyacinthus’s hand, merely started off through the suffocating mass leaving Hyacinthus no choice but to follow. Hands and bodies pressed close from all sides—writhing and grasping, seeking to touch, to steal, to feel—to take anything they could get their hands on. Hyacinthus squared his shoulders broader and began to push. Whether his shoulders or the severity of his expression told them to move a small channel around him slowly began to take shape. That was the difference between himself and his wiley butler, who weaved and bobbed in and out of the crowd with ease. Whenever there was an opening, like water, Amon slipped through—fluid and malleable. Hyacinthus however, shaped any opening to his own size. Water in a vase, as was water to a mountain. They pushed and shaped each other, in ways uncomfortable to dwell on.
##
Moonlight washed the courtyard in pale blues and serene milk whites. Below this floating palace, the lights were harsh and gold. He could almost taste the stiffness of the air; choked with mirth and alcohol and the fervor of the night. The packed rooms of The Nimbus, the claustrophobic walls of winding back alleys, the grunts and groans of passion and pain; all of the world’s earthly pleasures, finite and pale delights compared to this quiet.
Entranced wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t strong enough. Transfixed. Illuminated. Anchored. Their lips had yet to touch, yet the only thought in Amon’s mind was the pleasures of the divine; lips and tongue and tastes of the gods. Hyacinthus was before him, yet he wasn’t close enough. He wanted to be one in the same skin. To follow the thread of intimacy until he forgot who he was supposed to pretend to be. For a drop of mercy he would kill for it; beg for it. A soft indulgency that could never be his but how Hyacinthus’s gentle caress of his cheek made him yearn.
##
Narcissus’s world was like glass. Delicate, intricate, finely blown and shaped, to a perfect sphere she could cradle within her hands.
THE GRAVES WE DUG
His thoughts wandered, as they tended to these days. Dark, hooded eyes roved over the small bits of scenery presented to him. Drunkards lavished themselves over poker and pool tables; brims of their hats tilted high in jubilation or low in deception. Graves’s own gambler was tipped low down; to keep the bright, fly addled, naked bulbs above from creating blind spots in his sensitive vision. He was a creature of the darkness and this saloon was too bright; too close to a normalcy long foreign to his mind.
He drained his bitter dram, then set his glass to the side. The girl who refilled it was prattling on about something he wasn’t hearing. He let his eyes slip closed.
Then, he was standing on the balcony of The Rome.
#i don't think i worded that first question well but i can't tell you how annoyed i am#i love being black but i'm tired of everything having to do with me being black#why can't i just ??? be in scifi or fantasy or romance and not have my race be a point of contention or something constantly mentioned#im tired#about renjamin#ren writing#ask games 2024
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Fanfic: These Fleeting Nights (2/9)
Read the full chapter on AO3
Chapter 2 - V in Las Vegas
It had been quite a day, and everyone was eager to get some much-needed shut-eye. The “Cassidy Homecoming Party” went through the night and just as the party was about to wind down, they were forced to abandon camp and flee. It was lucky that it was such a tense situation as it appeared to have a sobering influence on everyone for the drive here.
They’d set up camp southeast of Las Vegas and spent most of the day checking for damage and performing repairs, including replacing many a broken window.
V was sprawled out on the mattress in the middle of their tent and Judy was brushing her teeth when suddenly, V sat bolt upright expelling a lung full of air. Toothpaste spattered across the side of the tent as Judy leapt out of her skin.
She rushed over to her, staring into her eyes as if trying to see something in them. “Lookin’ for something?” V asked eyebrow raised.
“Oh, thank fuck!” Judy yelled pulling her into her arms. “You’re here…” she muttered to herself.
“Uh… yeah, where else would I be?”
Judy leaned back, her face full of concern and worry. “You’ve been passed out all day babe… and, that wasn’t the first time you ‘woke up’…” She held her hand across her forehead, checking her temperature. “You did it twice before, each time as dramatic as the last and each time, you just stared forward, not seeing or hearing me… it was awful!” She said, eyes swelling slightly. “How do you feel?”
“Honestly, I feel fantastic… like, after a good night's sleep you know?” V smiled and rubbed her eyes. Judy scoffed.
“Well… you’ve had a good fifteen hours or so, so that makes sense…” she said laughing uneasily.
V sat and watched her as she found a cloth and began wiping the toothpaste off the side of the tent. Her eyes followed her down from her arms and shoulders, admiring how her back muscles below her staple black bra contorted as she moved. Her eyes continued down, following the contours of her body, around the cute blue shorts-covered butt and, down her long slender legs. Judy turned and followed her eyeline.
“And just what are you staring at?” She asked cheekily, eyebrow raised.
“My sexy ass output, that’s what!” V retorted.
“Phaha!” Judy snorted loudly. “You should get up if you can, have a wash and a stretch…”
“Yes ma’am…” V purred.
Several minutes later, V was cleaning her teeth whilst frantically searching her pack for another sachet of cat food for Nibbles who was sitting staring at her empty bowl imperiously.
“Horray!” V tried to say, mouth full of toothpaste, so it sounded more like ‘HobWurgh’. She presented the sachet of cat food and bit down on her toothbrush, pinning it between her teeth, so she could open it.
“Listen... V...?” Judy stuttered, looking up at her, cheeks hinting red. V held up two fingers and proceeded to empty the sachet into her bowl to Nibble’s elation and finished off her teeth.
She strode on over in her sleep shorts and vest top and lay down beside her. “What’s up?” V said, a nervous smile creeping across her face.
“I gotta get this off my chest...” Judy said timidly, rubbing her arm and avoiding eye contact.
“Sure, I can take that off for you,” V smirked, looking at her bra.
“V! Come on! You know this stuff really weirds me out!”
“I’m sorry... Please continue,” she said, shuffling deeper into the sheet and smiling sweetly.
“You know I... Uh... wait, did you watch my vid message?”
“You’re stalling.”
“No, I’m not! Did you watch it?”
“Yeah, watched it on the road down here.”
“Oh, you did...? Cool... Did you... did you like it?”
“The drive? Yeah, nice road...”
“V!”
���I’m kiddin’! Yes, I liked it... You were Mmm, so sexy, adorable, funny…”
Judy’s face was glowing red and not just through embarrassment. V cut to the chase before she hit her, “Your message, about being happy... I’m happy too, Judy,” V said, reaching over to stroke Judy’s thigh reassuringly. She was now glowing red, a sweet smile creeping across her cheeks. She swallowed, her eyes locking onto V’s.
“Well... I... wanted to say... in that vid, that...” she said, her voice audibly shaking, gaze breaking.
“Hey...” V urged, reaching out and grasping both her hands and squeezing. “You’ve got this, you’re doing great!” she said, planting a kiss on them.
Judy’s eyes met V’s once more and with a deep breath. “V, I love you!” she exclaimed, tears filling her eyes. “I love you... and I ain’t never said that to anyone before...” V’s heart was melting.
“I love you too, Judy!” V replied in earnest, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable at being the only one opening up. Her eyes grew wide, sending fresh tears cascading downward.
“Good!” She sobbed, rubbing her eyes, “I really hoped you did, V...” She jumped across, pulling V into her arms, and squeezing the air out of her lungs. “But you didn’t have to torture me so much you know...”
“But it was too adorable!” She said squeezing tight as Judy dried her cheeks. Judy giggled, kissing her neck before pulling away just enough to kiss her softly.
“You’re adorable too, you know that?”
“I guess so...” V replied in a mocking voice, scrunching her nose, emphasising the freckles on her cheeks. Judy purred.
“You’re also fucking sexy, you know that?” Judy winked.
“Mmm... right back atcha!” she replied, caressing her face, and floated her hand down her neck with only a sense of touch, triggering her hairs to waken.
“Hey, hey!” She hesitated, knowing full well where this was going. “You sure you’re up for this?” Judy asked softly. V ran her hand rapidly along Judy’s thigh and pressed her fingers deep into her shorts.
Read the full chapter on AO3
“Mmhm... V...” Judy moaned, biting her lip. Taking V’s eager fingers as a yes, she lay backwards, pulling V with her and slowly began removing V’s top.
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