#and for some reason it took a whole long paragraph to explain that

[balanceoflightanddark]

"Nonetheless, ease and peace had left this people still curiously tough. They were, if it came to it, difficult to daunt or to kill; and they were, perhaps, so unwearyingly fond of good things not least because they could, when put to it, do without them, and could survive rough handling by grief, foe, or weather in a way that astonished those who did not know them well and looked no further than their bellies and their well-fed faces. Though slow to quarrel, and for sport killing nothing that lived, they were doughty at bay, and at need could still handle arms. They shot well with the bow, for they were keen-eyed and sure at the mark. Not only with bows and arrows. If any Hobbit stooped for a stone, it was well to get quickly under cover, as all trespassing beasts knew well."

-J.R.R Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, Prologue 1. Concerning Hobbits pgs. 5-6

This paragraph fascinates me for a few reasons. Often in fiction, a long period of peace is often used for explaining why people are so slow to react to a rising threat. That prolonged prosperity dulled the senses and breeds complacency. Indeed, Frodo himself does express some exasperation and almost wishes for a dragon or some evil force to invade the Shire to shake the Hobbits out of their complacency.

Which to some level is true here. It's a known fact that Hobbits like to keep out of the affairs of the "big people". Yet at the same time, even if they want to keep themselves isolated, it doesn't mean the world won't march into the Farthings regardless of what they want. After all, there wasn't a whole lot stopping the Nazgul or Saruman from entering their borders.

Yet at the same time, the paragraph does illustrate that just because Hobbits have grown accustomed to peace, doesn't mean they're pushovers. Consider Bandobras "Bullroarer" Took and the Battle of the Green Fields. When a goblin warband led by Golfimbel descended from the Misty Mountains and broke through the Dunedain's encirclement to invade the Shire, Bullroarer charged straight at the goblin ranks. He then proceeded to knock Golfimbel's head off and shatter the morale of the warband.

The story was repeated in the Battle of Bywater when Saruman decided to set up a criminal ring in the Shire after his defeat at the hands of the Ents. Long story short, once Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin returned, the Hobbits proceeded to raise up a sizeable force and effectively kicked Saruman out of the Shire. Mind you, Saruman used to be the greatest wizard in Middle-Earth, and the Hobbits led to his final defeat. That's two accounts of invasions of the Shire going badly for the invaders.

And that's not even getting into the adventures that Bilbo, Frodo, and his friends got into during the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings respectively. Bilbo was able to save the asses of Thorin's Company multiple times, discovered Smaug's weakpoint and indirectly relayed that to Bard via the Thrush, and risked life and limb to forestall a battle between the Dwarves, Men, and Elves till Bolg showed up. Frodo and Sam were ultimately able to destroy the One Ring, while Merry and Pippin were able to rouse the Ents into attacking Isengard. That's not even counting Merry being partially responsible for the death of the infamous Witch King.

So even though the Hobbits were accustomed to peace, they weren't complacent enough to be pushovers when presented with a threat. Personally, I think part of the reason this is so is because the Hobbits never forgot the basic necessities of a good life: a comfortable home, friends, family, and basically everything needed to live simply. They never indulged too much in luxury to become lax like Smaug, nor constantly scheming to take more power like Sauron or Saruman. They were happy with living simple on the farm.

It turns out, that's what gave them their edge. They were down to earth, so they had a good sense of morality thanks to living humble lives. Safeguarding their farms from wild animals meant that some Hobbits could recognize a threat when they realized it. And their sense of community and friendship got them through some of their hardest trials, like when Frodo almost succumbed to the Ring and Sam never gave up on him. Their sense of community and toughing it out through the hardest times such as during the Long Winter when Gandalf began to really warm up to the Hobbits, seeing the value and courage in them.

So while they're not the flashiest or most "badass" of Middle-Earth's free peoples, the Hobbits are some of the hardiest and "purest" races. And how ironically, peace never dulled their senses but served to toughen them up for the dark times ahead.

#tolkien #tolkien legendarium #lord of the rings #the hobbit #hobbits #bilbo #bilbo baggins #frodo #lotr frodo #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #lotr samwise #merry and pippin #merry brandybuck #peregrin took #pippin took #brandobras took #saruman #the shire #battle of green fields #battle of bywater #the long winter #lord of the rings meta

[vinelark]

please share some outtakes im on my knees

oh man most of my outtakes are like, slight paragraphs/scene rewrites, but here are some bbts lines/alternate dialogue options that didn't make the cut!

chapter 1:

But it’s not like Tim could’ve told the kidnappers to call Bruce right away, not until today’s little attempt, which was another check in the failure column. No one else knows Tim has been practically living at Wayne Manor, and if they did it might raise too many questions. Tim can’t create an unnecessary trail of connections between Bruce Wayne and a random kid, especially a random kid in a situation where superheroes and vigilantes might then show up. He knows too well how quickly those connections can snowball if someone puts together one right conclusion, like hold on, Robin just did a quadruple flip—

---

sb aww are you jealous robin excuse me sb that no one’s made @robinsass yet robin absolutely not kon i said i’m not KON. sb http://twitter.com/robinsass i got u robin i’m calling oracle sb no worries i have five backup urls robin joke’s on you anyway unlike nightwing there are no hq photos of me. also i wear a cape. why do you think i wear a cape kon sb to cover the fact that you have no ass : (

chapter 2:

“Oh, no,” Tim wheezes when he’s done hacking up half the marina. He twists to sit heavily on the wet concrete and starts scrabbling at his shoelaces. “My shoes.”

Kon rolls his eyes. That’s it. No more saving rich kids; Kon is putting a wealth cap on all future damsels in distress. “I’m sure they’ll dry.” Or he can buy a new pair—Kon had looked Tim up after the whole kidnapping thing, just to make sure he healed up okay and everything. Kid’s parents are definitely loaded.

---

“Hey—Superboy, hey, are you good at beer pong?”

“Uh,” Kon says. “For PR reasons I don’t think I should answer that.” The answer is that he has no clue, having never played, but if he said that then half the media would have a field day with how his lack of cliché teenage rebellion secretly indicated he wasn’t so human after all. If he lied and said yes, somehow that same half of the media would clutch their pearls over him being a Bad Influence.

“Oh,” Tim says. “Well. Well, I am very good at it.”

“Um. Okay.”

Tim’s face falls. Kon has no idea why he suddenly feels guilty about this.

---

"But for the record, I’m not scared of you,” Red Hood says. “All I have to do is press a button and have Batman run you out of town if you get too annoying.”

“Batman is off-world,” Kon says, a little smugly.

Hood glares through his mask in a way that tells Kon he knows that, and is annoyed that Kon does too. Good. “Then I guess that leaves me in charge.”

chapter 3:

“What are you going to get Superboy?” Steph says. “Maybe a nice cheese plate?”

“I am going to frame Dick for tax fraud,” Tim mutters. He’s taken to hiding the charcuterie board Kon made in one of his city caches now, because Dick kept sneaking it onto the dinner table every time he visited the manor.

---

“What the—” Muffled talking on the other end. “He says he’s not sure,” the girl says to someone else. “Tim, explain this to me in small words.”

“Um.” Tim rubs his temple. “I’m with Superboy. He—found me. And took me somewhere, somewhere safe, so I’m okay for now.”

It does not escape Kon’s notice that Tim doesn’t mention the part where he apparently gave his gas mask to a kid and got a full dose of fear toxin. He raises an eyebrow, but Tim is doing a great job of avoiding eye contact.

There’s a long beat. “Oh my god,” the girl says.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god. You are so lucky I don’t have time for follow-up questions. Call me as soon as you’re home.”

(bonus chapter 4:

Kon spares a moment to be impressed that Tim has already figured out where they are, and says, “Because any good date starts with a good snack.”

Tim’s hand spasms where he’s rolling back the jacket cuffs. “A good date, huh?”)

#the shoes thing was originally because tim hid a memory card in his shoe or something but then i remembered how phones work #also rip twitter can't believe that fake url is already outdated #my fic #asks #timkon

[sayosdreams]

Picture Us (Together Forever)

Word Count: 26,115

ACOTAR masterlist

__________

TW: mentioned past homelessness, mentioned past abuse, referenced death & suicide

__________

A/N: For @simpingfornestaarcheron, one year late. A huge thank you to @bookstantrash for all your help with everything from brainstorming to beta reading and editing! You're the reason I actually managed to complete this fic. Credit @vidalinav for the 'Cassian's love is loud' concept, which is so ingrained in his character for me that I always end up including it.

I know I haven't posted anything for over a year and a half — I've been busy with college and have gotten into other fandoms — but I hope this long, fluffy fic makes up for my absence. Honestly, it's probably the fluffiest thing I'll ever write of this length. Also, the number of blocks in this post exceeded the Tumblr post limit, so I edited the paragraph layout to fit. The original version is posted on ao3. Please enjoy!

Present day

“Hey, sorry I got a little late,” Nesta announced as she stepped into the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Cassian. “I got held up at work because some people apparently think my job is to do everything,” she explained as she took off her coat and undid her scarf. “Eris now seems to believe that I’m a secretary and that it’s my job to deal with all the parents who want to sign their kids up for lessons or have questions about our hours. Can you believe that Vassa expects me to cover Eris’ class next Tuesday during my lunch break because he ‘has to be out of town to go apple picking’? And then, to top it off, Briallyn came to talk to me about how some people want the rehearsals for The Firebird to be at a different time. Just because I’m one of the principal dancers doesn’t mean I coordinate the rehearsal times! I don’t know why she doesn’t just talk to the director or choreographer, honestly. It’s so-”

Nesta turned around and fell silent, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her. The living room was decorated with candles and flowers. Rose petals were lined up on the floor, creating a walkway that led to the coffee table, which was covered in a white tablecloth. Behind the table stood Cassian, wearing a wine-red colored button-down shirt, black pants, and a soft smile. 

“Cassian?” she asked, her confusion evident in her tone. Had she forgotten some important occasion? Nesta quickly ran through the list in her head. But, no, it wasn’t either of their birthdays, or their anniversary, or Valentine’s Day… So why had Cassian done all this? Sure, he had given her flowers ‘just because’ or organized impromptu date nights before, but this was on a whole different level. “What’s going on?”

Cassian’s grin split into an open-toothed smile, even as intensity and slight nervousness swam in his eyes. “Nesta, we met five years ago in the line for tickets to the Bone Carver concert, when you yelled at me for letting my friends cut the line. I turned around to yell right back, and the moment I did, my life changed. You’ve made my life so much better, in so many ways I can’t even find the words to describe. Every day with you is like a dream come true. We’ve made so many fantastic memories together over the years.”

He pulled the tablecloth off the coffee table in a sweeping motion. Nesta inhaled sharply as she took in the collection of polaroid pictures, recalling different special moments in their relationship. The collection was decorated with small doodles that Cassian had clearly drawn himself. 

She sank down to her knees in front of the table. 

“Cassian…” Nesta whispered, “This is beautiful.” 

Her eyes drifted across the paper, until they came to rest on a single photo. Her hand reached out as if she wanted to caress the image, but floated just a hair’s breadth away from it like it was too precious to bear her touch. 

Cassian kneeled down too, and glanced down at the photo she was looking at. He laughed, “Oh, yes. The bookstore date, where you used me as a human bookshelf.”

The corners of Nesta’s lips turned up. “Listen, I just wanted you to know what you were really signing up for.”

Cassian chuckled.

__________

Five years ago

“Where are you taking me?” Nesta asked for the sixth time. 

Cassian once again responded by shushing her, his eyes fixed on the road. 

Nesta sighed. Cassian had somehow managed to drive without using a GPS (a novel feat for him) so she couldn’t even peek at it to figure out their destination. Cassian clearly hadn’t considered how impatient Nesta was when he’d decided to plan a surprise for her. 

Nesta knew she should just sit back in her seat, relax, and enjoy whatever Cassian wanted to surprise her with, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited — of course she was, and she was touched that Cassian had gone through all this effort just to plan a surprise for her. But Nesta couldn’t help but be filled with anxiety. She didn’t always react well to situations she was thrust into unexpectedly, and she wished she at least had a hint about where they were going so that she could prepare accordingly. She didn’t want to start freaking out and push Cassian away, destroying the tentative relationship they had just started to build. 

She trusted Cassian and knew he’d never intentionally put her in a situation that made her uncomfortable. They had met about three months ago and he’d asked her out soon after. Although they hadn’t made anything official yet, Cassian was always so caring and kind to her, more than any of her exes. He always made her laugh and brought her Earl Grey tea with just the right amount of 2% milk. He’d given her his scarf when he’d noticed that she was cold and had never asked for it back. He loved to play with her hair, creating intricate braids as his hands tenderly massaged her head. His body was honed from ice hockey training and he towered over her, and yet he had never once made her nervous or uncomfortable, even when they had been two strangers arguing in line. 

Still, there were many things that Nesta had yet to tell Cassian about. While his gentle sweetness was making her walls come down, bit by bit, she was struggling to open up fully. She didn’t want to risk scaring him away and ruining everything they’d created. 

All in all, she knew Cassian would never try to make her uncomfortable, but there were many things that could set her off that he didn’t know about. If she started freaking out, and she lost him… It was stupid of her to get so attached to someone so quickly. He wasn’t even her boyfriend, for gods’ sake! Only her closest friends knew they were together. They weren’t keeping their relationship a secret, exactly, but telling everyone would put pressure on their relationship that they weren’t ready for. 

Cassian’s best friend, Rhysand, was dating Nesta’s youngest sister, Feyre. The two of them had met on a dating app called Bond a couple weeks after Nesta and Cassian’s encounter. They’d fallen head over heels in love with each other, and had moved in together after just one month. Feyre kept texting the Archeron sisters’ group chat about how much she loved Rhys and how she wanted to marry him. 

Nesta and Cassian needed to take their relationship at their own pace — meaning much, much slower than Feyre and Rhys. If Nesta and Cassian made it official and then broke up later… well, Nesta didn’t want to have to deal with gossip and pitying glances whenever they were at the same place together on top of everything else. Plus, she knew her sisters were nosy romantics who would start asking about going on double dates, planning Nesta and Cassian’s wedding, and making lists of their future babies’ names. 

She couldn’t deal with all of that right now. When her last serious relationship had ended, she’d been left with bruises, a mountain of trust issues, and not much else. It had taken her a long time to put herself back out there again — to trust others with her body, much less her heart. Cassian had proved himself a worthy candidate, willing to be patient with her and put her at ease to help her let her guard down.

What it boiled down to was that she cared about him, far more than she probably should, and it scared the crap out of her. But she was even more afraid of losing him.

“Alright, we’re here!” Cassian’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Close your eyes.”

Nesta took off her seatbelt and did as he asked. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. She listened to the click of Cassian unbuckling his seatbelt and the boom of his car door shutting. A cold breeze hit her as her door opened. She felt Cassian’s large, calloused hand slide into hers, guiding her as she stepped out of the car. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” she replied vaguely. 

A boom sounded, followed by a quick beep beep, indicating Cassian had locked the car.

“We’re almost there, I promise.”

He stood behind her and his hands came to rest on her shoulders, gently turning her to the right and then guiding her path. They walked in silence. Nesta was glad she’d thought to put on a sweater and a jacket as the chilly autumn wind swept past them again. 

Cassian suddenly stopped her and turned her body to the left. 

“Okay,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. His breath was hot against her neck. She shivered. “We’re here.” 

She opened her eyes, and gasped. 

A blue sign with the words “Pegasus Book Company” hung above a blue-framed door. A bell chimed as she entered the shop. Pegasus Book Company was one of the hidden gems of Prythian. Despite being an independent bookstore, it was quite large and well-stocked in many different genres. They also displayed artwork from local artists, which they changed every season. Most of all, the owner, Helion Spell-Cleaver, was said to be amazing at giving book recommendations. Nesta had always wanted to visit Pegasus, but she’d never found the time to drive all the way to Hemera District just to visit one store. She had only mentioned it to Cassian once in the passing. She couldn’t believe that he’d remembered and done this for her. 

“Cassian…” She whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. She turned to find him with an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face. 

“Surprise,” he said softly. “Sorry that I made you wait to know where we were going. I wanted to surprise you, but I know I made you kind of nervous when I didn’t tell you where I was driving to. Is it ok? I’m sorry if it felt like I was abducting you. I just wanted to, uh, not ruin the surprise.”

Nesta couldn’t find the words to explain how happy his surprise had made her. Instead, she pressed her lips to his and let the kiss express her feelings. 

When they finally pulled apart, her lips formed a smile that she couldn’t suppress if she tried and she added a quiet and genuine “Thank you.” 

She hoped he could read the emotions in her voice and her eyes to understand how much the thoughtful gesture meant to her. His nervous ramble, while unnecessary given how fantastic the surprise was, just showed how much he cared about her. She didn’t know how to handle such affection and kindness. She felt as though she’d cry or melt or burst with everything he made her feel. He treated her as though she were precious and beautiful, worthy of compassion and care, like her company was a gift. As though she mattered.

Later, as he carried the numerous books she selected and listened attentively to her rants about different characters, books, and authors, she was overwhelmed by the pure joy she felt and some other emotion that it was far too soon for her to name. 

Cassian was special — she’d known it since the moment they’d met, when her sharpness had intrigued him rather than pushed him away. He was so perfect and amazing, and yet cared about her so much that she was still in disbelief. The dread that he would wake up one day and realize that she wasn’t worth the trouble was constantly present, and made her hesitant to give him her all for fear of him shattering her completely. 

But it was already too late. 

She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself, by not putting a label on things. It didn’t change how much she cared about him or how she didn’t want to think about him ever leaving her life. It was only hurting her, and more importantly, him. Nesta knew that her fears and her trauma often made her struggle to express her emotions. She never wanted Cassian to doubt how much he meant to her. Yet, it always felt like Cassian was the one doing things for her: he was the one who had asked for her number, the one who usually texted first and planned their dates, and the one who gave her meaningful gifts and surprises. He never hesitated to show or tell her how much he cared. 

What if he didn’t know? She wondered suddenly. What if he genuinely thought that Nesta didn’t care as much — that their relationship didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him? The despair that the thought brought her was shocking in its intensity. 

So as Cassian sat down in the driver’s seat, ready to turn on the car, Nesta blurted out, “Wait!” 

He turned towards her, his face showing his surprise and concern. She acted instinctively, reaching over to pull his hands towards hers and then interlacing their fingers. She took a deep breath as she steeled her resolve. Cassian’s thumb slowly moved back and forth over her hand in a soothing gesture. He’d evidently noticed her nerves. His soft, silent support served to strengthen her determination that she had to do this. 

“Cassian, thank you so much for today,” she began. “It was such an amazing, thoughtful surprise. I really, really enjoyed it.” 

She paused, considering her next words.

“The past few months have been incredible. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. And I-”

“Wait! Nesta, please don’t,” Cassian interrupted. His body had gone tense and his eyes were dull in a way she’d never seen before. His hands had grown sweaty in hers. 

Nesta felt her heart drop. It was too soon, wasn’t it? Oh, gods, what had she been thinking? She’d misread the whole situation. If Cassian had wanted to put a label on their relationship, he would have asked. It was incredibly selfish of her to assume that she was the only one who’d had hangups about it. He would also be put in an awkward situation with Rhys and Feyre. And really, she and Cassian had only known each other for three months. Why had she thought that she should do this? As usual, she was ruining everything by moving too fast and being too intense. 

Cassian continued, his voice choking up slightly, “I know I can be- it can be too much, but I promise, I’ll- we can- this can be whatever you want. We can talk about it and I’ll- I can reel it in. I mean, I’ll respect your boundaries and, uh, wishes and, just. Please, we don’t need to end this completely, just- I-”

He cut himself off as Nesta untangled one of her hands from his. 

“No, wait,” he rushed, his eyes widening in alarm, “if that’s what you really want, then of course I’ll respect it, I just wanted- but- I mean, can we at least stay fr-”

He was cut off again, this time by Nesta’s pointer finger pressing into his lips. 

“Cassian,” she said, in a strong, confident, and reassuring voice, “will you be my boyfriend?” 

His expression morphed instantly, shock and joy flitting over his face.

Nesta waited patiently, sitting in silence, awaiting his answer. She watched as Cassian’s free hand moved to his thigh, which he pinched more than once. Finally, he met her eyes. His mouth was barely curved upwards, as if he was too astonished and emotional to form a smile. 

“Yes,” he replied. 

Cassian’s hand came up to rest ever-so-gently on her cheek as their lips met for a kiss. As they continued to get lost in each other, kissing in the middle of the day in a car parked on the side of a street, Nesta knew that this was what all those fairytales and romance novels were made of.

__________

Present day

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was going to break up with you,” Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “Right after I complimented you, too.”

Cassian shrugged. “It’s a foster kid thing,” he said lightly. “If someone’s being too nice, it just feels like they’re trying to let you down gently.” 

Nesta leaned across the table to press a kiss to his cheek in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. 

“I’m never going to leave you, stupid,” she said. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

Cassian smirked. “I sure hope so.” 

His eyes moved left to the next polaroid and his hand followed suit, coming to rest right above the image. 

“Do you remember that day?” he asked, tapping his pointer finger on the table. “I was so nervous.”

“What? Why were you nervous? I was the one performing!”

__________

Five years ago

“Do you think the tie is too tight?” Cassian asked, pacing in front of the bathroom mirror. “Did I do it wrong? Fuck, do you think it’s too colorful for a formal event? Maybe I should change it to black?”

“Breath, Cassian, breath,” Azriel replied, half-serious. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Az,” he pleaded.

“You look fine, Cassian. It’s going to go great. Don’t worry.”

Cassian was still fiddling with his tie. “And you don’t think the color is too much?” 

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “It’s burgundy.” 

Cassian continued to questioningly stare at Azriel.

Az sighed. “The color is fine. The tie is perfect.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Let’s get going.” 

“Oh, shit, are we late?” Cassian scrambled to grab his suit jacket, his keys, and his wallet. Where were those flowers he’d bought? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spent so much time worrying about my fucking tie.” He could have sworn he’d left them on the dining table, but that was empty save for the collection of books, papers, and notebooks that Azriel had organized into neat piles. Cassian checked the kitchen counters, only to find them empty, too. Had he put them in his room? He really needed to get more organized. They were already getting late, and he was going to further delay them. “You know what, just let me- You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later, once I find the bouquet.” 

“Cassian. Cassian!” Azriel snapped his fingers. Cassian paused his frantic search to look at Azriel, who was carrying Cassian’s bouquet in his arms along with two others. “I’ve got it, see? Now, let’s go.” 

Before Cassian could open his mouth, Az added, “We’re not late, don’t worry.” 

As they entered Bryaxis Hall, where the performance was being held, Cassian expected to feel the last of his nerves disappear. 

As soon as he stepped inside, he realized how wrong he was. 

The hall was decadent. The ceiling was higher than a three-story house, the floor was marble with a simple yet elegant carpet running down the center, and Greco-roman pillars with intricate designs lined the hall. A chandelier hung above the grand staircase. The walls were decorated with high relief panels, each portraying a distinct myth or story. 

He followed Azriel up the stairs in silence. He was too consumed by the message every piece of architecture and decoration seemed to be yelling at him: he didn’t belong here. 

It wasn’t like he’d never been to a fancy party before: the NHL had plenty of galas, but even when he was surrounded by his teammates and friends, he always felt like a fraud in a suit. 

Cassian wasn’t meant for luxuries and refinement. He’d grown up dirt poor, even when his mother had still been around. After her death, he’d essentially lived out of a backpack. He’d even spent a few nights out on the streets when he’d been placed in particularly bad foster homes. Until he’d met Shirina, Rhysand’s mother, he had never even eaten chocolate — at least that he could remember. 

He’d only been to watch ballet once before. Shirina had insisted that they see the Nutcracker for Yule, as that had been a tradition in her family. Rhys, being the eleven-year-old that he was, had complained the whole way about being dragged there against his will. Ayla, Rhys’ younger sister, had grumbled about having to watch the Nutcracker again, instead of seeing something different like Swan Lake. Cassian had remained silent. At twelve, he didn’t want to admit that he was interested and excited, for fear of appearing uncool. Still, he was curious and was glad that Shirina had remained insistent despite her children’s protests. 

The ballet had enraptured him. He sat there, amazed by the graceful movements, the silent jumps, the whip-fast pirouettes, and the perfectly synchronized motions. 

Now, as he glanced down at the playbill, he felt completely unqualified to be here. He had no idea what La Bayadère was about — quite frankly, he wouldn’t even know how to pronounce it if Nesta hadn’t told him. He didn’t know any of the ballet terminology, either. How was he going to tell Nesta what he thought of the performance if he didn’t even know how to verbalize it? 

He glanced over at Azriel, hoping to gain some insight. Azriel was close friends with Nesta and two of Nesta’s ballerina friends, Gwyn and Emerie, who were also in tonight’s ballet. Right as Cassian was about to ask, the lights dimmed and the audience fell silent. 

Cassian worried whether he would be able to focus on the performance with all of his anxieties swirling around his head. Nesta deserved his full attention — she had been practicing for this for so long, and had poured her heart and soul into her ballet. There were so many times when she’d been late to dates, staying back in her studio to practice a move that she wanted to perfect. 

But Cassian needn’t have worried. The moment the ballet began, he was completely in its thrall. All his thoughts fled. He sat there, mesmerized, as the ballerinas danced. When Nesta entered, his breath caught in his throat. She was radiant on stage, looking like a goddess, a queen, and a warrior-princess all wrapped up in one. 

After the show, when he handed her the bouquet and told her how incredible she’d been on stage, her expression made it all worth it. Her cheeks, flushed with exhaustion, were rounded as her mouth split into a jubilant smile. Her eyes were awed, as if she was so grateful for his words and presence but couldn’t quite believe he was here. Despite all of his anxieties, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. 

And as Cassian drove home, he realized he couldn’t wait to see Nesta’s next ballet performance. 

__________

Present day

“It really did mean the world to me that you came, you know,” Nesta admitted. “And I was so nervous about what you’d think.”

“Of course I was impressed! Anyone in their right mind would be.” His comment was light. There was no need to mention that Nesta’s ex, Tomas, had considered her job to be a ‘useless passion’ that ‘should only be a hobby’. Both of them knew Tomas was a hateful piece of shit who had done his best to drag Nesta down, and were infinitely grateful that she’d gotten away from him. 

Nesta shot Cassian a small smile before turning back to the pictures.

“Oh! The snowball fight!” She snorted. “Don’t show this to Rhys and Az, we don’t want to remind them.” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, grinning. “They’re big babies.”

__________

Five years ago

Nesta turned around, startled, as someone tapped her shoulder. 

She had been shoveling snow for the last thirty minutes in the dim light of the rising sun. Normally, she loved lying around in bed on snowy days. She was content to sit inside, drinking hot chocolate, watching the world through the window and feeling as though she had been transported inside a snow globe. One of the few perks of living in an apartment was that she didn’t need to shovel snow. 

Last night, however, she had stayed over at Cassian’s townhouse. Cassian’s roommate, Azriel, had gone out, presumably to spend the night with someone. Nesta considered Az to be a friend, but he was extremely private; she had no idea if he was seeing someone, let alone who that someone might be.

Nesta turned around. 

Cassian was standing there, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised. “Nesta, why didn’t you wake me up?” 

Nesta rolled her eyes and turned back around to keep shoveling. “You’re sore.”

She hadn’t expected to wake up to snow piled up almost five centimeters on the ground. It was the first snow of the winter, and she wanted nothing more than to watch the snow fall from the warmth of Cassian’s bed, curled up against her boyfriend. 

Then, she recalled the numerous bruises and cuts on Cassian’s body that she’d tended to yesterday. He had gotten thoroughly roughed up at his game, though when she’d remarked on it, he’d just laughed and replied that this didn’t even count as getting injured in ice hockey. Still, she’d seen him wincing as he reached to the left when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

So when she’d seen the snow this morning, she’d decided that, instead of going back to sleep, she would shovel the entire walkway and driveway before Cassian woke up. 

Clearly, she’d failed. 

“I’m fine!” Cassian replied, just as Nesta had anticipated. “I’m not-”

Nesta cut him off by shushing him. 

She had a little less than half the driveway left to shovel. She was adept at the art of ignoring someone trying to talk to you: after all, she’d grown up with two little sisters. So as Cassian continued to complain that he was not actually hurt and tried to convince her to hand over the shovel, she just tuned him out and focused on her task. She was making pretty good progress, in her opinion. Sure, her fingers were a little cold even in her gloves, but the desire to keep going and not let Cassian help at all motivated her. The spite kept her warm. 

She was almost a third way done when she heard coughing. She stopped abruptly and turned to Cassian, who was wiping snow off of his face.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my gods! I’m so sorry!” 

Cassian just laughed. “What, you didn’t mean to cover me in snow?”

He leaned down and grabbed a fist full of snow. “Let me show you a faster way to get rid of all this snow, sweetheart.” Nesta barely had time to duck before the snowball flew in her direction.

Abandoning the shovel, she ran away from him. Then, she made her own snowball, which she hid in her hand as she smiled at Cassian innocently. He smiled back and walked towards her until- Wham! Her snowball hit him square in the chest.

Nesta cheered. 

He gasped “Betrayal!” 

As she dodged his next snowball by a hair’s breadth, she stuck her tongue out at him. 

Her cold dissipated as their snowball fight continued. The progress she’d made on the driveway and walkway had definitely been ruined, but she found that she couldn’t care less. Twenty minutes later, when they went back inside, covered in snow, both of them were grinning ear to ear. 

It wasn’t until after they’d showered, changed, and were sipping hot chocolate that Cassian exclaimed, “Shit!” 

His drink sloshed, spilling out of his mug. Nesta took a large sip of her hot chocolate — it really did taste divine with marshmallows — and looked at him questioningly over the rim of her mug.

“You can’t tell Rhys,” Cassian pleaded. “He wouldn’t understand. We need to keep this a secret.”

“What, that I had a snowball fight with my boyfriend?” Nesta answered incredulously. 

Cassian’s face, however, was completely serious. “Yes.” 

“I wasn’t planning on telling him,” Nesta said, struggling not to laugh, “but now I’m curious to see what’ll happen, so…”

“No!” Cassian’s eyes went wide. “You see, every year, when it first snows, Rhys, Az, and I have a snowball fight. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years. If they find out that I had a snowball fight with you first…” Cassian shook his head, as if the possibilities were too horrific to even consider.

“So basically, you cheated on them with me?” A drop of hot chocolate spilled over and ran down the side of Nesta’s mug. She caught it with her finger, which she then brought to her lips.

Cassian’s eyes followed her finger. His Adam's apple bobbed as her finger left her mouth with a pop.

“I, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat. 

She smirked. “Well, I haven’t told them, but I did tell Gwyn and Emerie in our group chat when they asked what I was up to, so Az is definitely going to find out.”

Cassian groaned, putting his face in his hands. Nesta just continued sipping her hot chocolate, laughing quietly.

__________

Present day

“They’re definitely going to hold that against us forever,” Cassian sighed. “They were so mad. That whole winter, I had to watch my back. They just kept pelting me with snowballs whenever they got the chance.” 

“It was hilarious,” Nesta grinned. Then, catching Cassian’s look, she corrected herself. “I mean, it was very terrifying.” She tried for a serious expression but failed, erupting into laughter.

Cassian rolled his eyes, but she could see the smile he was trying to suppress.

“You know what else they’re going to hold against me forever?” Nesta pointed at the polaroid right under the one they’d been looking at. “This. I think I almost gave them heart attacks.”

“Oh, yes. Now, that was hilarious,” Cassian agreed.

__________

Four years ago

Vroom.

Nesta pulled up to the front of the lane, right as the light turned red. Sighing, she raised her face shield. 

She turned to the right, glancing absently at the car in the lane next to her. It was a black Mercedes-Benz, the same car Rhysand owned. As she looked through the rolled-down driver’s seat window, she realized that it was literally the same car, because Rhys was the one driving.

She called out to him, and he turned towards her — then did a double take.

“You- wha- how are you driving Cassian’s motorcycle?” Rhys spluttered. 

Azriel’s head peeked out behind Rhys’. They sported matching shocked expressions, complete with comically wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and parted lips. 

Nesta smirked. “It’s quite easy, actually. I wasn’t sure how I’d do, since I’d never driven a motorcycle before but,” Nesta patted the handles, “she’s a smooth ride.”

That was not what they’d meant by their question. 

Cassian had always dreamed of owning a motorcycle. After going through his finances and realizing that he could afford one now without stretching himself out too thin, he’d finally bought one last week. 

The motorcycle was his prized possession and he was fiercely protective of it. He took the time to polish it after each ride, checking to make sure there wasn’t a single scratch on his treasure. Rhys and Az had been begging to ride it ever since he’d gotten it, but he’d starkly refused, claiming they were both too irresponsible. It was laughable, because Azriel was easily the most responsible member of their trio, but even he wasn’t allowed to do more than look at it. When Az had run a single finger across the paint, Cassian had pulled him away, declaring that Azriel was being too rough and that he clearly hadn’t thought about how the oils from his fingers would interact with the materials on the bike to shorten its lifespan. Azriel had pointed out that the motorcycle was meant to be ridden, but Cassian had ignored him. 

Of course it made sense that Cassian would be so overprotective of his motorcycle. He had never had many possessions. He hadn’t ever owned more than one pair of shoes until he was thirteen, when Shirina insisted on getting him snow boots and dress shoes. He’d replied, “But my sneakers still fit,” confused, and grew even more confused when Shirina wrapped him in a hug in response. 

A motorcycle was something he’d never realistically imagined being able to afford. He’d look at magazines and at the seniors who’d pull up to high school in the Harvey-Davidsons that their fathers had bought them, thinking about what kind of motorcycle he would have wanted if he’d been born to rich parents who were still alive. Now that his wildest dream had become reality, he would guard it to the best of his ability.

He knew that Rhys and Azriel would treasure it as well. They knew that he loved the bike and would never do anything to intentionally harm it. Yet, they had both grown up with money. They didn’t understand the instinct Cassian had to protect the little that was his, because they had grown up with so much to claim as their own. To them, possessions were replaceable. Despite the wealth Cassian had gained, he could never shake off the memory of being a child curled around a backpack as he slept on the street instead of covering himself with it for warmth because he was afraid it would get stolen. 

So when Cassian had casually offered to let Nesta try riding it, she was shocked to say the least. 

“Are you sure?” she’d asked about a hundred times, but his answer never changed. When she’d admitted that she had never ridden a motorcycle before, he had just replied, “I’m honored to be your first,” with a wink. He then took Nesta, who was blushing and rolling her eyes, outside to teach her the basics. 

“Alright,” he said with a clap, twenty minutes later. 

Nesta got off the bike, assuming he wanted to return it to its position in the garage. 

“Want to take it for a whirl?” he said instead.

She spun around to face him. “Really? But I… I wouldn’t want to damage your motorcycle. I know how important it is to you and, well, are you sure you want me to ride it?”

Cassian just shrugged, smiling. “No pressure, of course, if you’d rather not ride a motorcycle, but I’d love for you to try.” Something shifted in his eyes as he said, “I’d love to share it with you.”

Nesta blinked. She had grown up very differently from Cassian. She’d been born into a wealthy, upper-class family that later lost its wealth when her father got laid off and her mother fell ill. The medical bills piled up as her father searched in vain for work during a recession, and once her mother passed away, her father fell into the arms of alcoholic depression. Luckily, Nesta had enough training and experience by that point to gain a scholarship to her ballet school. 

So while Nesta had experienced poverty, it was never in the way that Cassian had. She could only understand Cassian’s desperation to hold on to his possession on an intellectual level. 

She didn’t know why he would trust her with something so precious.

“Of course I trust you,” Cassian added, as though he’d read her mind. He kissed her on the forehead, as if to say ‘you’re precious to me’. Nesta closed her eyes. 

“Um,” she whispered, then cleared her throat to continue in a stronger voice, “I’d be honored.” Then, she glanced down at the dress she was wearing. “Maybe tomorrow?” she added.

Cassian laughed that hearty, deep laugh that always made her heart clench. “Can’t wait, sweetheart.”

So here she was, the next day, riding Cassian’s motorcycle. She’d been sure to dress more appropriately in her leather pants, jacket, and boots. She asked Cassian to confirm that her outfit was ok, just to make sure. He hummed approvingly as she spun around.

He then sat her down, and put on her elbow pads and knee pads on her. If it had been anyone else, she would have complained incessantly about being treated like a child; because it was Cassian, who touched her so tenderly as he adjusted the straps, she couldn’t feel anything except gratitude and joy. 

“Ready?” He asked as she sat down on the bike. She gave him a thumbs up as he took a step back, gazing as though he was an artist who was looking at the tableau he’d painted. Dressed all in black, atop a black motorcycle, Nesta felt like she cut quite the figure. She felt powerful, as though she could do anything. 

She turned on the engine and was about to get going when Cassian shouted, “Wait!” and ran over to her. She paused, looking up at Cassian as he ran over to her and lifted her face shield. 

He kissed her, hard, and she melted into it. When he pulled away, she sat there for a moment, dazed. She brought a hand to her lips and continued to stare at Cassian. His parted lips were dark red, stained with her lipstick. 

She took a deep breath, blinking a few times to regain her focus and dispel all the images of a naked Cassian from her mind. She pulled down her face shield, revved the motorcycle, and set off. 

“But- how did you get Cass to agree to let you ride his bike?” Azriel asked, astounded.

Nesta shrugged, grinning. “What, like it’s hard?”

She zoomed off as the light turned green, leaving Rhys and Az in the dust with their mouths hanging wide open. 

__________

Present day

“I’ll cherish that moment forever,” Nesta laughed. 

Cassian grinned back at her, then pointed to a picture in the bottom row. 

“You know what I’ll cherish forever? This one.”

Nesta looked at it and sighed. “Great, now mine seems shallow. Why do you have to be so kind and thoughtful?”

“I’ll try to stop.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

__________

Four years ago

Cheers filled the rink.

“GO DRAKON!” yelled the girl sitting right next to Nesta.

Emerie, who was sitting on her other side, held back a hissing Nesta by grabbing both her shoulders. 

“That was ridiculous,” Nesta said through clenched teeth. “Why isn’t the ref saying anything? That was definitely a foul!” 

“It was a beautiful goal,” Rhysand corrected.

Nesta’s fiery glare turned to him and he withered as she snapped, “Whose side are you on?”

It was Nesta’s first time being at Cassian’s game. Of course, she’d seen his games on TV before, but both of them had agreed that she should wait before attending a game and being in the presence of all his fans and the media. Now that they had been officially dating for over a year, they’d both felt it was time. Nesta’s best friends, Gwyn and Emerie, had decided to accompany her. They had both claimed that they just wanted to watch the game, but she knew that they really were there to provide her with moral support.

Sadly, Cassian’s team — the Velaris Ghost Leopards — was currently losing 4-2 to the Adriata Sirens. Nesta, who never followed ice hockey closely until meeting Cassian, had been yelling up a storm as passionately as any long-time die-hard Ghost Leopards fan. They were about halfway through the third period and any hope that the Ghost Leopards could win was slowly disappearing. Especially as Jurian Zbirak, the Sirens’ center, passed discreetly to Varian Ulwandle, the left winger who was famously good at scoring. 

“I can’t watch,” Gwyn grimaced as Varian got past the Ghost Leopards’ defenceman, Andras Lupo. The crowd held their breath as Varian took the shot and- 

“Saved!” Emerie yelled as Rhysand let out a whoop. 

Thesan Vu, the Ghost Leopards’ goalie, had managed to save it beautifully.

Nesta gasped loudly as Kallias Neve, the Ghost Leopards’ center, took the puck and skated forward. Unfortunately, the other team’s defense was extremely strong, and caught sight of him almost immediately. Kallias cut sharply to the left, but the defenseman Eris Vanserra quickly shifted positions to block him. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nesta chanted. Emerie was biting her nails anxiously next to her and Azriel was covering his mouth with his hands.

Kallias tried to deke Eris by feigning left and then cutting right, but Eris had seen through his tricks and was about to steal the puck when- 

Nesta jumped out of her seat. “Look!”

Kallias had managed to trick Eris after all. He’d drop passed the puck to Cassian, who was now zooming towards the goal. By the time Eris and Devlon Lyons, the other Sirens defenseman, realized and headed for Cassian, it was already too late. 

Nesta held her breath as Cassian got into position, took the shot and- 

“He scored!” Nesta cheered at the top of her lungs. 

Her throat was definitely going to be sore tomorrow but she didn’t even care. 

She watched as Cassian lit up with glee and his teammates congratulated him. This was why she cheered so hard, why she cared so much about the sport. It wasn’t as though she’d magically become obsessed with ice hockey when she’d met Cassian. No, it was the joy that the sport brought him and the way he put his heart and soul into it — giving it his all at every game, every training, every play — that made her passionate about it. Cassian worked so incredibly hard at hockey and it was such a big part of his life. How could something so important to him not be important to her, too? 

Cassian’s eyes locked on hers. Nesta froze. 

He brought his left hand to his lips and blew her a kiss. 

The crowd went wild as Cassian’s fans assumed he’d blown it to them. But Nesta could only sit down, dazed. She didn’t know why she felt so shocked that her boyfriend had blown her a kiss. They’d done far more than kiss, for gods’ sake. Perhaps it was because it had been in front of everyone, like Cassian was declaring his affection for her publicly and showing that he wasn’t ashamed of being with her. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d thought of her in the middle of a game, as though he never stopped thinking about her, even when he was singularly focused on ice hockey.

Emerie elbowed Nesta in the ribs and stage-whispered, “Your face is red, you know.” 

“Shut up,” was Nesta’s dignified response.

With five minutes left in the period, the Sirens held control of the puck.

“Are they just wasting time, trying to run out the clock?” Nesta huffed. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

Drakon Aliyev — the Sirens’ right winger — kept passing back and forth with the Jurian and Varian, barely moving forward. 

“C’mon!” Rhysand jeered. 

Suddenly, with thirty seconds left on the clock, Jurian sped forward. He weaved between Ghost Leopards’ players, dodging and deking them. 

Twenty seconds. 

Andras closed in on Jurian, but Jurian back passed to Drakon right before Andras caught up to him. Drakon skated past them, zigzagging to avoid the other players who attempted to catch up to him. 

Ten seconds.

As Lucien — the Ghost Leopards’ other defenseman — moved in to body-check him, Drakon made eye contact with Varian, who had skated forward and was completely open. Drakon turned towards Varian, leaning his left shoulder down to pass to him.

Five seconds. 

Lucien shifted to guard Drakon’s right side, blocking him from passing to Varian. 

Four.

Drakon turned his hockey stick, which was on the left of the puck, to position it behind the puck, and aimed at the goal. Lucien scrambled to move back to his previous position in front of Drakon. 

Three. 

Drakon’s stick hit the puck, taking a strong shot. It flew through the middle of Lucien’s legs, headed straight towards the goal.

Two. 

Thesan shifted his stick and crouched down, moving into position to block the puck. 

One.

The puck landed on the ice a hair’s breadth in front of Thesan and slid through the small gap between his stick and his foot, straight into the goal.

Zero.

The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts. 

Nesta was chief among them. “What? That’s crazy! The puck was not completely over the line before the buzzer! Why the fuck are they counting it?” 

“It actually was,” Rhysand replied. “Wasn’t it an amazing buzzer beater, Az?”

Nesta was fuming. “What? Were you even watching the game? About a third of the puck hadn’t crossed the line! Don’t you agree, Az?” 

Az looked between them with wide eyes and then wisely chose to say, “Hey, why don’t we try to go catch Cassian before he has to go to the changing room?” 

Nesta was still grumbling as they walked up to where Cassian was talking to his teammates.

Azriel tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around, his disappointed frown turning into a friendly smile. Then, his eyes landed on Nesta and his expression softened. 

Nesta peered up at him and sent him a small smile. But a second later, she resumed her muttering, hissing under her breath, “I can’t fucking believe the refs don’t give a shit about the Sirens’ blatant cheating.”

Rhysand, who was standing right next to Nesta, groaned loudly. Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. “This one,” Rhys began, tilting his head towards Nesta, “hasn’t stopped complaining about the Sirens and the refs.” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “They didn’t fucking cheat, Nesta. They won. Just accept it and move on.” He turned to Cassian with a glance that said ‘urg, can you believe her?’ 

Unfortunately for Rhysand, he was not met with the sympathetic backup he’d anticipated from Cassian. Instead, Cassian’s face split into a huge grin that only widened when Nesta retorted, “Well, it’s true! I swear the puck wasn’t fully over the line when I heard the buzzer. The refs were definitely biased, because they called the Ghost Leopards’ offsides in period 1 but not any of the Sirens’ fouls!” 

He let out a breathy laugh as wonder and joy lit up his eyes. He enveloped Nesta with his arms, burying his smile in her hair. 

Time froze.

Their eyes closed like camera shutters as they stood still, taking in the moment and committing it to memory. They were both silent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions.

An eternity later, Cassian broke the silence, whispering “Thank you” into Nesta’s neck. He let her go, but not before pressing a kiss against her cheek.

__________

Present day

“You know, it meant the world to me to see that you defended me so fiercely.” Cassian’s tone was sincere but still light, as one could only be with those whom they’d been vulnerable with many times before. “To know that you cared so much about me… well. It’s not like no one cared about me before, you know, obviously I had Rhys and Az and stuff, but I still struggled with really believing that people could care about me — that I could matter to people. That moment… Of course it didn’t completely ‘fix’ me,” Cassian made air quotes with his fingers, “but I think that’s when it really clicked and I realized that you felt the same way about me that I felt about you — that I mattered to you, too.”

Nesta swallowed, realizing that she was choking up, which was extremely uncharacteristic of her. The closest she usually got to crying was when she read about fictional characters, and even then she almost never felt tears welling up as they were now. 

“I love you,” Nesta answered quietly. It was the truth, plain and simple. “You matter to me, and you always have.”

“I love you too,” Cassian answered. His hand reached out to cover hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

A moment later, he pointed to another polaroid in the bottom row. 

“This one was next, right?”

“Yeah,” Nesta said, her eyes twinkling as she reminisced. “Those views were so worth it, but damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired and sore.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh really? Not even-”

“Nope,” Nesta interrupted with a smirk of her own.

Cassian blinked, as though her reply had genuinely shocked him. Once he recovered, he answered, “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?” 

He winked. 

Nesta rolled her eyes, but brought a hand to cheek to cover what she assumed was her rather obvious blush. 

__________

Four years ago

“Are you sure you don’t need to drink more water?” Cassian asked again.

“Yes, Cassian, I’m just as sure as I was when you asked me two seconds ago,” Nesta replied, a small smile on her lips despite her slight irritation at his repetitive questioning. Nesta would never in a million years admit that she liked Cassian’s coddling, but in truth she did enjoy knowing how much he cared. 

They’d decided to get away from the city for a week to go on the backpacking trip they’d been talking about for months now. Miraculously, Cassian’s off-season had aligned perfectly with Nesta’s and they intended to make full use of it. 

Initially, they had considered inviting some of their friends and family to join them on a hike to a different location, but after Nesta’s argument with Rhysand over reproductive freedoms dissolved into an intense shouting match with personal attacks, Cassian had decided to limit the trip to just the two of them. He’d hoped to give them some space from each other to help them cool off. 

There was also an additional reason he had decided not to invite anyone else — most notably Rhysand — that he hadn’t told Nesta. The day after the row, Cassian had gone to see Rhysand, hoping to help clear the air. Instead of being regretful and guilty, Rhysand had been stubborn, claiming that Nesta was the only one who needed to apologize. He called Nesta a “vicious bitch”, saying that he didn’t know why Cassian would want to be with such a “fucked up person who clearly had way too many issues” and “only wanted Cassian for the money and fame”. When he laughed, “The sex must be really good for you to put up with her,” spitting out the last word as though Nesta was the scum of the Earth who wasn’t even worthy of being named by Rhysand, Cassian had exploded. 

He’d completely lost it, snarling and hurling insults at Rhys. He’d yelled that Rhys was clearly so insecure that he couldn’t accept when he was wrong and had to tear others down to try to fix his fragile ego. 

“Maybe you want to pretend you’re perfect because you don’t know how to love people, flaws and all,” Cassian had hissed. “So yeah, Nesta might have some ‘issues’ but so do I. And guess what? That’s fine. We still care about each other, for real. Unlike you, we don’t feel the need to lie about who we are. At least our relationship is real and is based on honesty and truth.” 

It had been a low blow, to allude to his previous relationships. Rhys had dated Amarantha, a wealthy actress and politician’s daughter, at his parents’ request back when Rhys’ dad, Hadrian, was still running the conglomerate called Night Court Corporations which was later passed down to Rhys. This had been both a PR stunt, which showed rivals just how strong and influential their family was and distracted the media from Ayla’s underage drunk driving, and a way to gain Amarantha’s father’s support in giving Night Court Corporations a tax break. Their relationship had been faker than Amarantha’s tan. 

His only real relationship before Feyre had been with Carmella, a girl who worked at a coffee shop he used to frequent, although calling it ‘real’ was a stretch, as Rhysand had lied to her about his family and his past. They had dated for almost a year, and Az and Cassian had met the poor girl numerous times, but Rhysand had insisted that he would keep being ‘Reese, son of an office worker’ when he was with her in order to avoid ‘getting used’. 

So yes, the comment had been mean and Cassian had felt slightly guilty about it, despite it being true. 

But then, Rhys had retorted, “Real? Please, Cassian, I can’t believe that you can’t see through her! She doesn’t ‘care about you’ or whatever, she only cares about the money, just like everybody else like her!”

Cassian’s eyes had narrowed and he’d slowly bit out, “Like her? What do you mean by that?”

His eyes had flashed with rage and pain, because he’d known exactly what Rhysand meant. 

His suspicions were confirmed when Rhys’ expression had twitched. He’d meant people who weren’t as famous, as well-to-do, as wealthy. People who didn’t have a trust fund or a summer house or extra cars. People who couldn’t take vacations or make big purchases without saving up first. People who couldn’t say ‘money isn’t a problem’. People like Nesta who had to have side jobs in addition to their main one just to be able to afford rent in a city like Velaris. And people like Cassian, for whom even food and housing and safety had never been a guarantee, let alone new clothing or vacations. 

Rhysand had just implied that Cassian had never cared about Rhysand or Shirina or Ayla or Hadrian. That Cassian had only been with them for the money and that all the love he had for them was fake. 

Rhysand stayed silent.

Cassian repeated, “What do you mean, Rhys?”

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. It wasn’t about- I’m just trying to help you! She doesn’t actually care.” At Cassian’s murderous glare, he amended, “And even if she does, she doesn’t deserve you! I’m just trying to rescue you, man.”

“Rescue me?” Cassian laughed, coldly. “I’m not some semi-homeless kid anymore. I don’t need a fucking hero to save me. Maybe you want to think I’m some helpless victim because you can’t stand the fact that I’m finally happy and I don’t need you anymore. How are you going to feed your savior complex now?”

Rhysand scoffed, glaring down at him as though Cassian were a peasant and he were a god. It only served to fuel the cold flames of Cassian’s anger.

“Or maybe you don’t like that I’m succeeding,” Cassian said, his voice quiet and dangerous. “You don’t like that I’m rich and famous and I did it all on my own. I worked hard and got here and I’m only gonna keep rising. Who are you gonna look down at now to remind yourself just what a special little boy you are?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Rich? Please, Cassian, you’re doing okay, but you could never be as rich as me. And all on your own? Need I remind you that I gave you a house and food and clothes? I paid for your hockey gear and for chauffeurs to drive you to games. You worked hard, sure, but so did I. We’re the same, so stop trying to act like you’re any better than me.”

“Aww, did I hurt your fragile little ego?” Cassian pouted mockingly. “You know that you didn’t do any of that, right? Shirina and Hadrian paid for all those things. And yes, they helped me, but at least I got my job because of skill and hard work. You got yours because you were born a boy. We’re not the same and we’ll never be.”

“You’re right,” Rhysand replied coolly. “We’re not the same. I don’t know why I ever bothered to pretend otherwise.”

Cassian had stormed out, tossing a “By the way, it’s called a taxi, not a chauffeur!” over his shoulder as he exited.

Admittedly, it had not been his best comeback.

After that incident, Cassian had decided not to speak to Rhys for a while, let alone invite him on any trips.

As they hiked up the hilly landscape, Cassian was grateful he’d decided to spend this time alone with Nesta instead. Somehow, the whole trip felt so much more meaningful with her by his side, like this was a glimpse at the life they were building together. 

“Gods, my legs are definitely going to hurt after today,” Nesta mumbled as they hiked up an especially steep section.

“Are you okay? Do you want to take a break- or should I carry you?” Cassian hurriedly replied. 

Nesta just laughed, staring pointedly at his backpack. “Literally how?”

Cassian gestured to his front. “You doubt my strength?”

“Yes,” Nesta teased, sticking her tongue out at him before speed walking ahead. 

“Wait up!”

Each night, they shared a tent. Despite starting out in sleeping bags on separate mattress pads, they always ended up cuddling together, supposedly for warmth. A couple nights in, Nesta figured out how to zip their sleeping bags together to create a single larger sleeping bag, whispering “Oh no, there’s only one bed!” as she did so. 

Every morning, Cassian would wake Nesta up with a kiss to her cheek. She’d always scrunch her face and groggily mutter, “No, don’t do that, I’m disgusting.”

“You could never be disgusting, sweetheart,” Cassian would reply, prompting Nesta to open her eyes only to roll them at him. 

When they finally arrived at Windhaven Overlook, their destination, they spent a day admiring the views and having a small picnic. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Nesta said, resting her head on Cassian’s shoulder. “It means a lot that you’d want to share this with me.”

Cassian kissed her forehead in response. 

He had been to this spot only twice before, but it was still one of the most important locations for him. 

The first time, Enalius had brought him here. Enalius was a man close to Cassian’s heart. They’d first met when Enalius approached Cassian, whose face was glued to a window, watching an ice hockey team practice. Cassian had snuck into the skating rink for warmth and to use the vending machines and the water fountains, but had let his guard down, enthralled by the skaters. 

“Are you spying on them?” were the first words out of Enalius’ mouth. 

“What? NO!” Cassian had tried to run, but Enalius clasped his shoulder with a strong arm. 

“Really? What team do you play for?”

“I don’t play hockey!” 

At that, Enalius had frowned. “Really? That’s a shame. I think you might be good at it. Why don’t you ask your parents to sign you up for a class sometime?” 

Cassian’s eyes had dropped to the floor. “No, that’s okay.”

“C’mon, now,” Enalius had tried again. “I’m sure you could be better than those boys in no time.”

“I’ve never even skated before.”

Enalius raised an eyebrow as Cassian furiously backtracked, realizing that he’d basically admitted he’d snuck in. 

“Uh, I mean, I’ve never skated in, uh, hockey rinks with, uh-”

Enalius smiled. “Don’t worry, kid.” He looked Cassian up and down once more and sighed, “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try? You’ll never know what it’s like until you give it a go.”

Cassian shrugged.

“Well, if you ever think you want to, just tell the lady at the counter over there that Enalius Ramiel told you to sign up for a lesson with him, okay? And get your parents to sign all the release forms and stuff.”

“Oh, they, uh, can’t do that.”

Enalius cocked his head. “Should I talk to them? Don’t worry, lessons aren’t actually that expensive, and I’ll give you a little discount.”

“No, um, you can’t talk to them,” Cassian mumbled uncomfortably.

Enalius took a step back. “Sorry kid, didn’t mean to pressure you. Lemme know if you ever want me to talk to your parents or anything.”

As Enalius started to turn around, Cassian was suddenly caught by a panic and blurted, “You can’t talk to them ’cause they’re dead.” 

Enalius froze. 

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I see.” 

He studied Cassian’s face for a moment and then grabbed his hand, power-walking towards the check-in counter. They cut to the front of a long line of people as Enalius flashed a badge.

“Hey, Val, can we book rink 3 for a private lesson?” Enalius asked the lady at the counter with a grin. 

“Sure, when do you want to schedule it for?” 

“Now.” 

Val raised her eyebrows. “Now? Are you joking?” 

Enalius shook his head. 

Val just sighed. “Fine, but I don’t think the ice has been refreshed in a while. Also, it’s booked after 5:30, so you’ve got a little less than an hour.”

“Thanks, Val, you’re the best.” Then, he turned to Cassian. “What size are your feet?” 

“Um… 6?” Cassian guessed, rounding up a size from his current too-small sneakers. 

“A pair of size 6 hockey skate rentals, too,” Enalius added. “Put it all on my tab.”

Then, he leaned in to whisper something Cassian couldn’t hear, which made Val sigh, “Oh, Ali, I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

The next hour had changed Cassian's life. He’d started out wobbling, barely staying vertical and walking instead of skating on the ice. By the end, he was gliding effortlessly, skating around and in between the cones Enalius set up. He fell in love with ice skating. 

So Cassian returned, day after day, getting free private lessons from Enalius, and he soon became enamored by ice hockey, too.

Enalius became Cassian’s mentor, not only teaching him hockey but also buying Cassian snacks or dinner and making sure he got back safely. It was Enalius who later introduced Shirina, his childhood friend, to Cassian, further changing his life.

It wasn’t until much later that Cassian learned what a famous and successful hockey player Enalius was. Enalius remained Cassian’s coach right until he joined the NHL himself.

There were few people who were as important to Cassian as Enalius. And that was why this place that Enalius had brought him to years ago was so special to Cassian. 

Shirina, Hadrian, Rhysand, and Ayla had decided to go abroad and travel alongside some cousins during fall break. Enalius had overheard Shirina hesitating about leaving Cassian home alone for the week and had offered to take him on a trip of their own. Cassian, who had never been on a trip as far as he was aware of, was ecstatic and it did not disappoint. It became one of Cassian’s best memories.

The second time he came to this spot was after Shirina’s death. Rhysand and Ayla had been inconsolable, each grieving in their own way: Rhysand never spent a moment alone, as though he could bury his feelings in the high of socializing and parties, while Ayla barely spoke or even left her room. Hadrian was trying his best to keep it together, but was clearly in way over his head — managing the children and their emotions had always been Shirina’s department, not his. Luckily, their extended family had flown into town to help them all. Friends and acquaintances had reached out, trying to find ways to support them through all the grief. 

Cassian, who couldn’t really be classified as a friend or family to Shirina, had been overlooked. It wasn’t like he expected anything different, but watching everyone comforting each other and ignoring him hurt. It was as though he had no right to grieve — to be this hurt by her death — and maybe he didn’t, but she had been the closest thing he’d had to a parent since he’d been 5 years old. He’d loved her, too. No, he wasn’t her child, but he was something to her, even if it couldn’t be labeled so easily. 

Now she was gone and whatever they had been was erased. It didn’t matter that he’d used his first paycheck to buy her a birthday present, or that she had attended all his home NHL games, or that they’d often go on walks together. It didn’t matter that she always knew when he needed a hug or that she’d taught him how to cook. 

Cassian had decided to hike to Windhaven Overpass to get out of his own head. 

The journey had helped him to process his emotions. The sunsets and the plant life around him had seemed far more beautiful that time, reminding him of how much Shirina had loved nature. At night, the stars seemed brighter than normal, and he recalled Shirina explaining to him that in her culture, stars were considered to be ancestral and guardian spirits looking down at you and guiding you. 

Cassian felt like Shirina had been there, watching him from the sky and reaching out with a comforting hand as he struggled. That trip, he had gotten angry and laughed joylessly and sobbed. He’d felt empty and about to explode at the same time. He had gotten to be something different from the strong, smiling version of himself that he usually presented to the public. In the end, the trip had helped him find some sort of closure and peace with Shirina’s death.

Now, Cassian had brought Nesta here.

He had told her about his prior trips with Windhaven and what the location meant to him, but actually bringing her here was a sign that Cassian was willing to be vulnerable with her. 

He had always feared people would leave him and that he was replaceable, and worried about tainting such a special place with memories of someone who would later leave his life. 

And yet, Cassian had brought her here.

“This spot is important to me, Nes, and so are you,” Cassian said. “Thank you for coming. It’s my honor to be here, with you.”

He didn’t say: ‘I’m not worried about bringing you here because what we have is different — it’s meant to last.’

He didn’t say: ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about enough to let myself be vulnerable like this with — you could destroy me, but I’m willing to take that chance.’

He didn’t say: ‘I love you.’

And yet, that was what they both heard.

__________

Present day

“I knew you were in love with me the second you invited me on that trip,” Nesta smirked. 

“Sweetheart, I was gone for you way before then,” Cassian laughed. 

“That’s true,” she grinned. “You had an embarrassingly massive crush on me for the longest time. And you must’ve loved me a whole lot to let me get away with making Rhys grovel like that.”

“First of all, get your facts straight: I still have an embarrassingly massive crush on you,” he replied. “And secondly, well, Rhys deserved it and also it was really entertaining to watch.”

The day after they’d gotten back, Rhysand had sent Cassian and Nesta a long message, asking them to meet up so that he could apologize in person. Nesta decided that they should talk to Rhys separately. 

Cassian went first. Rhys apologized profusely for all the names he’d called Nesta, for all the things he’d implied about Cassian, and for all the insults. Cassian in turn apologized for his part, and the two of them had a chat in which Rhys admitted that he’d acted like an entitled prick and that he was genuinely sorry. They made up and quickly forgave each other, like the pseudo-brothers they were.

Nesta and Rhysand were an altogether different story. Rhysand apologized to her as well, but she answered that while she accepted his apology, she could not forgive him so easily. 

She understood that he didn’t like her, and that was his right, but she also felt that he couldn’t try to make claims about her character when he barely knew her. She told him that she was perfectly fine with having a tepid relationship with him where they would only speak when strictly necessary or that they could try to get to know each other better. Rhysand went with the second option. From there, they went on to have many long discussions. Once they’d gotten a bit closer, Nesta returned to their original point of contention: reproductive freedoms. She made Rhys listen to podcasts and read articles and watch videos about what reproductive freedom really was and why it was so important. “You don’t have to change your opinion,” she’d said, over and over. “You just need to be informed before you try to make claims about what others should or shouldn’t do with their bodies and their lives.”

It was only months later that Nesta finally stopped putting him through the wringer and told him that she’d forgiven him. 

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Cass. It definitely was all for your entertainment, no other reason at all for us to argue,” Nesta replied dryly.

Her eyes drifted to the polaroid in the bottom right corner. “Now that,” she pointed, “that was entertainment. What a show!” She licked her lips and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly. 

“It was completely staged, of course,” Cassian joked. “The whole thing was just for your pleasure.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “My ‘pleasure’?” 

“My, my, what a dirty mind you have, Nesta!” Cassian fake-gasped. “A proper gentleman would never imply something so improper to a lady like yourself.”

“A proper gentleman? Where?” she retorted without missing a beat. 

He clutched his chest. “You wound me, m’lady.” He shook his head. “And to think, I was your knight in shining armor that day…”

“More like knight in very little armor.”

__________

Three years ago

Plunk.

They watched, immobilized by shock, as the necklace drifted below the water’s surface. 

It fell slowly, until it became only a vague shadow in the water.

“Nesta?” “Nesta, are you ok?” 

Voices faded in and out of Nesta’s awareness. She tried to force herself to smile, to nod that she was completely, totally fine. Unfortunately, she seemed to have lost the ability to control her body. 

It was so, so stupid. She’d been having such a wonderful day. And now, she’d ruined it.

Cassian and Azriel had prepared a group trip to Ravennia Park, complete with a lovely picnic lunch in the field of blooming daffodils. Cassian had even made sure to include all her favorite foods in the lunch. Afterward, they walked around the park, stopping occasionally to take pictures or listen to birds. 

They had stopped on this small bridge so that Feyre could take pictures of the glistening lake and the paddling of ducks that had just entered the water. Nesta had leaned over the railing, chatting with Cassian as she watched the colorful koi fish swim.

Her necklace had snapped suddenly, tumbling into the water before anyone could react. 

Her silver necklace, which her father had given her for her eighth birthday, disappeared under the surface of the lake. Gone, just like her middle school best friend, Clare Beddor, who had drowned herself in a pool. Gone, just like her father.

Until her mother got sick, Nesta had had an amazing relationship with her father. She would sit next to him, listening intently as he explained how trading and shipbuilding worked. She was always the one to run and open the door when he came home from work, enveloping him in a hug. She loved it when he read her bedtime stories and watched her dance around the living room.

Then, everything changed. Her illusion that he could do no wrong broke when her mother told her that the reason she wasn’t getting better from her illness was that they couldn’t afford good doctors and medicine since her father had lost his job. After that, Nesta’s resentment only grew as the misfortunes piled up. Her mother died and they couldn’t afford the funeral that she’d wanted. Her sisters had to change schools. They moved into a smaller house, with a bedroom that all three sisters shared. They struggled to put food on the table. 

When her father decided to sell art instead of looking for another job, saying he couldn’t rely on others to give him work, Nesta fumed. How could he sit there, carving wood and drinking beer, while Feyre worked overtime at her job in addition to school and she and Elain did all the cooking and cleaning? Nesta had vowed to leave as soon as she could, and, it turned out, that ballet allowed her to leave the nest sooner than expected. 

Still, she’d felt guilty leaving her sisters to fend for themselves in that house, and then felt even angrier at her father for not taking care of them and putting Nesta in a position where she felt guilty for following her dreams. 

Suffice to say, Nesta had a difficult relationship with him — one that was made all the more complex when he died of a sudden heart attack. 

It had taken Nesta a long time to process and make peace with his death. 

She’d decided to wear the necklace her father had given her today, in honor of his birthday. Once upon a time, she had worn this necklace all the time, showing off the token of her father’s affection. By putting it back on, she felt like she was healing a teenage Nesta, who had violently taken off her necklace at her mother’s funeral and shoved it into the drawer of her bedside table. 

And now, it was lost forever. 

“Nesta?” 

Cassian’s voice cut through her haze and she lifted her eyes to see his worried expression. He brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it softly. It grounded her, bringing her back to the present, but she didn’t react — couldn’t react — more than just blinking at him dazedly. 

Cassian took a deep breath. He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and removed it in one smooth motion, his pants quickly following suit. Before Nesta could process what was happening, he climbed over the railing and plunged into the lake. 

Nesta could only cling to the railing, shocked silent for a new reason as she waited, praying to all the gods she barely believed in that his head would emerge from the water. 

She tried to dispel all the fears that swam around in her mind, taunting her about the dangers of the lake. The water plants that could ensnare even experienced swimmers’ feet and drown them, the animals that could bite and eat him, the sharp rocks that could injure him, the current that could pull him under — the possibilities were endless.

Cassian’s head emerged from the water and she felt her heart unclench, just for a second, until he disappeared once more. 

This jerked Nesta out of her stupor. 

“Cassian,” she called out. “Cass! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here! ” Her voice grew increasingly panicked as there was no response. 

“It’s dangerous, are you insane? Cassian? Cassian!”

Her shouts only stopped when Cassian surfaced. His broad shoulders and defined abs glistened in the sunlight as drops of water rolled down his chest. The bun his hair had been in had come upon, and now his dark, wavy-curly mane was streaming down his back. His brown skin was slick with water and drops clung to his long eyelashes. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing that he looked exactly how she’d imagined a merman to be. 

Her lips parted as he stepped out of the water. She forced her eyes away from his soaking wet underwear that clung to his body, defining every inch of it. Her gaze fixed on his chest instead. She knew she should be focusing on Cassian’s face or the necklace in his hand but he was so fucking distracting. Soaked Cassian was criminally delectable. 

“Nesta?” 

Cassian’s voice was worried, probably since Nesta still wasn’t speaking.

“Nes,” he whispered, gently tilting her head upwards with a finger under her chin. 

Their eyes met. Cassian’s concern was wiped off his face and was instantly replaced by a smirk.

“Lost your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased.

Though she had indeed lost the ability to speak, she would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. No, she would play his game and beat him at it. 

She licked her lips slowly. She tilted her head back to expose the column of her throat while she swallowed sharply, knowing how it drove him crazy. Cassian made a low noise in the back of his throat, as though he was trying and failing to suppress a groan. Then, he put his arms on her shoulders, turning her around. 

“Lift up your hair,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers across her body. 

She did as he requested. He put the necklace back on her neck, patiently working the tiny clasp. His fingers brushed her neck, and even the cold silver of the necklace couldn’t cool the heat that spread within her. When the necklace was securely fastened, she turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

She took a moment to look deep within his eyes. 

She would have to yell at him later for risking his life for a piece of jewelry, but nonetheless she appreciated what he had done. He was one of the only people who knew that she had a fear of deep water due to its association with Clare, and was also the only person who knew what putting this necklace back on meant for her. Yes, it was only a necklace, but he had also saved her from reopening the wounds of her complex relationship with her father and her past self. 

So she kissed him, knowing he would understand every conflicting thought and emotion that she pressed against his lips. And when his hand came up to support her neck, she knew that he was answering ‘I’m here for you, always.’

__________

Present day

“I knew you were objectifying me,” Cassian pouted mockingly.

Nesta nodded. “Oh, for sure. You’re nothing but a sexy hunk to me.” 

She leaned closer to him. “That’s why I said I love you first.” She tapped the picture in the top left corner. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

Nesta hummed as though she were seriously contemplating the issue. “How about… forever?” 

Cassian’s eyes sparkled and his mouth twisted around, as though he were trying to hold back a grin. 

“Urg, fine,” he said. His attempt to appear annoyed failed completely as he sounded more amused than anything else. “As long as you know I loved you first.”

It was Nesta’s turn to roll her eyes in mock annoyance, despite knowing that he was likely correct. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

__________

Three years ago

It was the final match of the Alfheim Ice Hockey Championships. If the Velaris Ghost Leopards managed to beat the Hybern Hydras, they would win the Fionn Cup for the first time in history. 

The game was extremely close, with both teams tied at 2-2, though not for lack of trying. The Hydras were playing atrociously dirty by anyone’s standards. They had already received numerous green and yellow cards, but it didn’t seem to deter them from continuing to foul the Ghost Leopards. 

Nesta cheered as Andras blocked Keir Hewn’s attack. Lucien swept in, stealing the puck from Keir, and passed it across the ice to Cassian. Cassian bluffed and wove his way through the Hydras’ defensemen. 

“C’mon, Cass, c’mon,” she chanted, her hands clasped together. 

Beron Falls raced to block Cassian, but Cassian passed the puck to Kallias just in time. Kallias dribbled the puck expertly. 

“Please, Kallias, make this shot,” Rhys implored from the seat behind Nesta’s. 

Kallias skated towards the goals, and lifted his stick to shoot. 

Then, the ice erupted in shouts, the umpire blowing the whistle continuously. 

“What just happened?” Gwyn asked but no one had an answer to give her. Nesta just sighed, dropping her face into her hands until she felt Elain tugging at her shoulder. Her eyes followed Elain’s pointed finger to see the jumbotron showing a replay. Andrew Amaranth, the Hydras’ left winger, had come up to Kallias from behind. He grabbed his stick and kicked the back of his calf with the blade of his skates, causing Kallias to fall. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Nesta shouted.

“He’s actually unhinged,” Azriel agreed. 

The umpire called for a yellow and a ten-minute time out.

“It should be a red card,” Gwyn hissed and Nesta loudly agreed. 

The game continued in such a fashion, with the Hydras playing as dirty as possible without getting red cards. 

The game was still tied with five minutes remaining in the third period. 

“We can’t go into overtime,” Azriel muttered to himself, “All our players are getting tired and they’re bound to actually get injured from these fouls.”

“Better overtime than a loss,” Rhys replied.

Nesta looked down at her hands. Her nails had been bitten down to the nub over the course of this game. 

Winning the Fionn Cup was a lifelong dream of Cassian’s. He had worked hard for this. He’d given his life to this sport for years, training every day for hours on end, no matter how tired he was. He studied strategy, honed his body, and worked with his team to figure out how to play into everyone’s individual strengths.

But it was more than that. 

In many ways, the sport had also saved Cassian. It had given him direction and a sense of purpose at a time when he’d felt lost. It had given him a team, when he’d only ever felt alone. It had provided him an alternative to the path he’d thought he was destined for — a path that led to nothing but more despair, where he would just get by, numbly passing through every day and surviving by the skin of his teeth. Ice hockey had opened up a whole new world for him and allowed him to dream of a different future for himself. It had given him hope, showing him a way out of the cycle of sadness that he’d imagined he would be trapped in forever. 

The world had once branded him as useless, as broken, as less than nothing. As he was tossed around from foster home to foster home, sleeping on the street among the trash, the word worthless sank deeper and deeper into his skin. 

Ice hockey was the hand that had reached out and pulled him to his feet, getting him off the ground, out of the shadows and the litter and the endless despair. It had dusted him off and pulled him into the light, where he could get warm and grow and sparkle as he was meant to. 

Now, Nesta wanted the world to acknowledge that Cassian was a champion. She wanted the world to know they’d been wrong to ever dismiss him as anything less than magnificent. She wanted him to win the Fionn Cup and stand proudly in the spotlight, knowing the world now looked up to him. More than anything, she wanted him to know that he was worthy, that he was precious, that he was important. 

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Azriel shouted. Nesta would have raised an eyebrow at him — the ever-brooding, silent and mysterious Azriel — shouting so enthusiastically, if she hadn’t been so caught up in the game.  

Kallias had stolen the puck from Dagdan Maeve and was racing towards the goal. Just as he crossed the center line, the Hydra’s defensemen, Beron and Nolan, closed in on him. Nesta watched as Kallias attempted to fake them out, then made a sharp turn to get away from them, all to no avail. Beron finally caught up to him and moved to steal the puck. With Nolan guarding Kallias’ other side, there was nowhere for him to move, no space for him to pass.

“Oh, I can’t watch,” Rhys hissed, wincing. 

Nesta pressed her lips together, hoping for a miracle, when suddenly the puck disappeared. Kallias had somehow managed to pass it through the narrow gap between Beron and Nolan’s sticks and had hit the puck with such strength that neither of them could move to stop it in time. Cassian received the pass and skated towards the goal. Beron, Nolan, and even some of the forwards moved to stop him, but Nesta knew they wouldn’t make it in time. Not when Cassian was speeding forward, moving like the wind as he skated across the ice. 

Nesta leaned forward in her seat as a feeling swelled up inside her. It was a mix of anticipation, nervousness, hope, fear, pride, and something else — something that made her feel like her heart was in her throat and made her pray that Cassian would score but know she would be there by his side no matter what happened. She had been feeling it for so long now, but had never voiced it — never put words to the feeling for fear that it would shatter the precious thing they’d built. But now Nesta knew it wasn’t something that could be so easily destroyed. No, it didn’t matter if Cassian won or lost, or even got injured. It didn’t matter if Cassian got traded to a team in a different city or Nesta had to switch ballet companies. No matter what, through the ups and the downs, they would be there for each other, helping to shoulder the emotional load. 

As Cassian's hockey stick hit the puck, Nesta wondered why she had been waiting so long when it was so clear what this feeling was. If she was being honest, she’d known it when Cassian dove into the water for her necklace, had known it when he’d brought her to Windhaven, had known it even the first time she’d sat in these seats, cheering Cassian on as he played. 

Cassian’s love was loud. It was in the romantic dates he planned, the surprises and gifts and hugs he showered her with, the weekends when he could sleep in but woke up anyway to make her pancakes. No, he hadn’t said the words either, but his protective arm around her during dinner with his friends and the vulnerable look in his eyes as he prepared a fusion meal that combined their cultural cuisines said all that was needed. 

Nesta’s love was quiet. It was in the fridge restocked with Cassian’s favorite foods, the ways she tended to his injuries after a match, and carefully planned meaningful gifts for his birthday. No, she hadn’t said the words, but she knew that he knew how she felt. 

But now, as the puck flew towards the goal, Nesta wanted to love just as boldly as Cassian. She wanted to show the world how lucky she was to be with him, but more importantly, she wanted Cassian to feel how much she cared about him. She wanted him to know that she was proud to be his. For him, she’d shout their love from the rooftops. She’d give him the whole universe if she could, because the world had been so unkind to him and yet he’d still managed to become the most incredible person in it. She could only offer him her heart, however, and hope that he would find it worthy of keeping. 

The puck grazed the goalie’s glove and Nesta held her breath. The goalie stretched out his fingers to grab it but it flew past him. 

“GOAL!” 

The entire stadium erupted into screams. Cheers of pure joy came from the Ghost Leopards’ side, louder than ever before. Nesta watched as Gwyn, Azriel, Elain, and Rhys jumped up and hugged each other.

Nesta could only stand up in silence, too consumed with her feelings to utter a single sound. For what sound could encapsulate this all-encompassing joy and pride? She looked down at the rink. Cassian’s teammates were all piled up around him in a massive group hug. And in the middle of it all, Cassian was there, beaming. His eyes lifted and met hers. She was grinning, wider than ever before in her life, and lifted her hands to make a heart. 

Cassian’s eyes turned huge. He took a deep breath. 

Perhaps he would have responded in kind, but he was obstructed from Nesta’s view as another teammate jumped to hug him and then the coach yelled at them that the game was restarting. Cassian shot Nesta one last, loaded glance before skating back to his position.

It was all a blur after that. The last few minutes of the match passed without any change.  Both teams’ offenses and defenses were equally matched, and the puck passed between them with no chances to score. When the buzzer rang out, everyone sprung to their feet. 

Nesta cheered, not giving a shit that her voice would be hoarse the next day with how loudly she was screaming. Azriel was jumping up and down like a child — she’d never seen him so overtly joyous. Rhys had tears of joy pouring down his cheeks. Gwyn and Elain were hugging. 

After the awards ceremony, all the interviews, and a rowdy celebration with the team, Cassian finally joined them. 

The second they caught sight of him, they rushed towards him. All five of them reached him at the same time and jumped on him, crushing him as they hugged him and showered him with compliments and congratulations.  

Cassian laughed boisterously. 

“I can’t believe it! I’m friends with a Fionn Cup Champion,” Gwyn gushed.

“Oh, so now we’re friends?” Cassian teased.

Gwyn answered with a playful shove that pushed Cassian back toward Azriel. Az wrapped his arms around Cassian, trapping him.

He pressed a kiss to the side of Cassian’s head as the latter squirmed. 

“Sorry Nes, I’m keeping him,” Azriel joked, tightening his grip as Cassian tried to shake him off. 

“Take him,” Nesta grinned. “He snores.” 

“I do not!” 

Cassian’s protest went ignored.

“Hmm,” Azriel pretended to muse. “But then I could have a real-life Fionn Cup Champion in my room. The price of the noise-canceling headphones will be worth it.”

Nesta shrugged. “I’d be surprised if he fit through your door, now that his ego is going to get even bigger.” 

“True, true. I’d hate for his massive head to break my roof.”

“Hello? I thought you’re supposed to be nice to Fionn Cup winners,” Cassian pouted.

Gwyn laughed. “Nice? Cassian, it’s like you don’t even know us.”

“I can be nice,” Rhys protested.

Everyone proceeded to burst out laughing.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m a demon just like the rest of you.” 

“That’s right,” Nesta grinned. “Accept your true nature and join our pit of darkness.”

Gwyn laughed evilly, “Mwahahaha!”

Nesta lifted her left hand, which Gwyn promptly high-fived. 

“Okay, anyway,” Elain interrupted, “Cassian, are you hungry? You must be tired after that amazing game.”

“Wow, thank you for being so considerate, Elain,” he said, extending her name pointedly. “I am actually pretty hungry and tired and sore after the game.” 

He turned his head to glare at Azriel, who was still holding him.

Az merely rolled his eyes. “Aw, poor baby. Does the little Fionn Cup Champion have a boo-boo?”

“Maybe he needs Nesta to kiss them better,” Gwyn suggested, not bothering to hide her smirk.

“Are you gonna tend to his wounds?”  Rhysand asked. “Nurse him to health?”

“I guess that depends on what it is that he’s hungry for,” Nesta replied with a wink.

They all burst out laughing a second later.

“Wow, you’re all so immature,” Cassian sniffed. “Elain is the only person fit for polite company.”

Rhysand glanced around. “What polite company?”

“Oh, no,” Azriel exclaimed. “We’re blaspheming! Now that Cassian’s won the Cup, we have to refer to him by his proper title: His Highness Sir Cassian of Illyrian.”

“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” Nesta added with a curtsey. “Please, forgive our disrespect.”

“Regency romance,” Gwyn fake-coughed into her elbow. 

“Of course, m’lady,” Cassian winked, “you’re forgiven. Although you may have to be punished for your transgressions.” 

Azriel pretended to gag. “Please, save the foreplay for the bedroom.”

“My poor, innocent ears,” Rhysand groaned. “I’ll never recover.”

Nesta turned to him. “Right, because you’ve never made out with my baby sister in public.” Then, she smirked. “Although, maybe you are innocent if that was too much for you. I mean, how vanilla are you?”

“Cassian,” Elain interrupted. “Do you want to go eat dinner at a restaurant or something?”

“That sounds amazing! How about the Greek place on 10th Avenue?” Cassian replied.

“Oh fine,” Rhys rolled his eyes playfully, “We’ll get food.” 

“I am actually really hungry, too,” Gwyn agreed.

“Well, if Gwyn is hungry, then we gotta go eat now!” Nesta declared.

Azriel nodded, his expression serious.

Cassian sighed. 

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Cassian called out as he walked towards his car with Nesta, “Or not. It’s also fine if you get lost on the way.” 

Azriel responded by raising a choice finger. 

The mirth was still in the air as Nesta closed the car door on the passenger’s side. 

“I can drive if you want,” she joked as Cassian slammed his door shut. Nesta was a notoriously reckless driver. She hated driving unless she had to, and Cassian loved driving, so it usually worked out perfectly. 

He laughed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like to live.” 

The car got quiet as the laughter faded. It filled instead with an intimate intensity.

Cassian turned slightly to buckle his seatbelt. 

Nesta reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. Cassian inhaled sharply and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her thumb caressed his cheek. 

“Cassian,” she whispered. She knew the look in her eyes said it all already, but it had said it for so long and she’d never once let her tongue speak it. But Cassian — brilliant, beautiful, splendid Cassian who had been hurt far too much by the world — deserved to hear them aloud. It scared her for too many reasons to count, but if ever there was anyone worth confronting that fear for, it was this man who sat next to her in all his marvelous glory. 

His eyes were open — vulnerable, in a way he always was with her. Sometimes she wondered whether she deserved to be allowed to handle his precious heart that too many had tried to shatter. What if she dropped it or dented it with her harshness? But he entrusted her with it anyway. 

She took a deep breath. Then, she let it out, alongside the words she’d been holding in for so long.

“I love you.”

Cassian’s eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to reply, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Not a single word escaped despite his attempts, but Nesta understood and just smiled, her eyes shining with joy. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to respond.”

Cassian looked frustrated at himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But I- I do. I-” He screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. 

Nesta knew that those three words were not ones Cassian had heard very much in his life. Shirina had likely been the first to say those words to him in his memory, and that hadn’t been til his teen years. Cassian’s mother had most likely loved him, but Cassian’s memories of her were sparse. 

Enalius certainly loved Cassian, but Nesta was just as certain that he would not say it out aloud. Enalius showed his love through his coaching, his cheering, and the letters he’d send from all over the world. 

Ayla, Rhysand, and Azriel also loved Cassian and weren’t shy about it these days, although none of them were particularly vocal about it either. They preferred to show it through gifts and hugs and jokes and advice. When they had met, however, they had all been preteens who wouldn’t have been caught dead saying the words ‘I love you’.

Cassian had certainly had flings and girlfriends in the past. Nesta didn’t know the details of all of his past relationships, but she could easily guess that those words had seldom or, more likely, never been exchanged.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say anything right now.” 

And then, just because she could — because she now had the freedom to say it without being caged by fear — she added, “I love you, Cassian.” 

Cassian answered with a kiss that said, ‘I love you more than words can ever express.’

__________

Present day

“I was such a mess,” Cassian recalled fondly. “Rhys and Az laughed at me for bawling so much.” 

“I remember Gwyn saying that she could take the trophy if it was making you so sad,” Nesta added. 

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it,” he laughed. Then, he added, “I love you.” 

“Are you talking to me or the trophy?” 

“Oh, the trophy, for sure.”

“Oh, good, just wanted to make sure.”

They grinned at each other.

“You have no idea how I felt when I saw you make that heart that day,” he said. “I mean, I was already elated because of the goal I’d just scored, but that couldn’t even compare to how I felt when I looked up at you. I think my heart literally skipped a beat.” 

“Better visit a cardiologist then,” Nesta answered lightly.

Cassian flicked her nose. She shrieked loudly in return.

“You know what you sound like?” Cassian tapped a photo in the middle, which was surrounded by doodles of musical notes.

Nesta mock-gasped. “Excuse you, I wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re right, you were worse.”

__________

Three years ago

“What’s that?” 

Nesta pointed towards a large, lumpy black bag resting against Cassian’s bedroom wall. 

“Oh, sorry, I was practicing earlier and forgot to put it away.” Cassian moved the bag to his closet. “It’s my guitar.”

Nesta placed her hand on Cassian’s wrist before he could shut the closet. 

“You play guitar?” 

“Yeah, it’s something I picked up when living with Shirina. I’m not a pro or anything, but it’s a fun hobby, you know.” 

“Wow, would you… could you play something for me?”  

Cassian seemed surprised but nodded, pulling the guitar back out of the closet. 

He sat down on the floor, his back resting against the bed. “What do you want me to play?”

Nesta sat down beside him. “Anything you want. Just play me something you enjoy playing.”

Cassian absently strummed the guitar a few times, deep in thought.

“Alright, sweetheart. Here we go. This song is called la rosa del principe.” Cassian closed his eyes and started playing. 

Nesta watched him with bright eyes, mesmerized. 

After a while, he started singing. His deep voice complemented the melody he was strumming. His singing was nice, but it was the passion in his voice that warmed Nesta’s insides. 

“Wow,” Nesta whispered when the song ended. 

Cassian chuckled. “Shirina loved that song. She’s the one that signed me up for some guitar lessons, you know. She taught me the lyrics to la rosa del principe when I told her I didn’t know them. She was always humming the melody when she was cooking or doing chores or whatever. I think it was a song her mom liked, so it reminded her of her childhood.”

“Does it remind you of your childhood?”

Cassian took a moment to contemplate his answer. “It reminds me of Shirina, and how kindly and lovingly she treated me. That wasn’t really a common theme in my childhood, you know, but I suppose you could say it reminds me of some of the best parts of my childhood.”

Nesta nudged his shoulder with hers comfortingly. He gently pushed back against her in a silent gesture of gratitude. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. 

Then, Nesta pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Could you teach me?” 

Cassian swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“The lyrics are kind of complicated, since it’s not in English, but I can just teach you the chorus for now if you want.”

“Sure,” she smiled.

Cassian spoke the lyrics slowly. Nesta tried to repeat after him, though she didn’t do the best job judging by Cassian’s chuckles. 

“Close. It’s tramonto, not tremare,” he corrected. 

“What do the lyrics mean?” Nesta asked. 

“The song is a love letter to a rose. It’s a metaphor for loving something so delicate and impermanent,” he explained. “The song is from the point of view of this guy who is so powerful — he’s a prince, he can travel across galaxies, he can do whatever he wants — but he feels so powerless because he knows he can’t control what happens to this rose that he loves. And even though he’s rich and powerful, he gets lonely a lot and his rose is his only companion so he dreads the thought of leaving it or having it disappear.”

“That sounds kind of tragic.”

“I guess so, but it’s not sad per se. It’s more like a reminder of the importance of love rather than materialistic things, and not taking your loved ones for granted.” 

He kissed her cheek. 

Nesta smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

Cassian hummed in agreement. “It’s such a Shirina song. She loved songs with morals like that, that remind you to appreciate what you have. She was so down-to-Earth, even though her husband was one of the richest, most powerful people around here. It’s…” He trailed off with a sigh. 

“I’m glad you met her,” Nesta said quietly after a moment. “She sounds like a great person and I’m so happy you had her in your life.”

“Yeah, me too.” He took a deep breath. “I wish you could’ve met her. I think… I think she would have loved you.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Then, Cassian grinned mischievously. 

“Cas! What the fu-” yelped Nesta as he lifted her up. 

He placed her between his legs with a huff of laughter. She leaned back into him, her back pressing against his front. 

Cassian placed the guitar in her lap. 

“Alright, it’s time for you to learn how to play this magnificent instrument,” he declared. 

“Okay, but I’m just warning you, I don’t really have experience playing instruments.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m just here to help you learn some basics. Besides, you’re a dancer so you have some experience with rhymes and stuff. How bad could you be?”

Holding her hands in his, he demonstrated how to hold the guitar and how to strum a basic chord. 

“You got it!” Cassian cheered as Nesta played a C chord that didn’t sound half bad. 

“Ok, so then,” Cassian moved their hands to a different position. “Use your pointer finger to hold down this string. Good! Your middle finger holds this one and your ring finger holds this one.” 

He continued his explanation of different chords and strumming patterns. 

“So, basically, you just hold down different strings and strum up and down for different notes, right?” Nesta asked as he finished.

Cassian chuckled. “Basically, yeah.”

“Alright.” Nesta wiggled her hands free from Cassian’s grasp and took a dramatic deep breath. “It’s time. I’m going to play.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to play? I haven’t taught you how to play la rosa del principe yet.”

She shrugged. “I’m just going to let my imagination and inspiration guide me.” 

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s going to turn out-”

A jumbled chord cut him off. 

“Um-” 

What followed next was the most chaotic, screechy minute of guitar playing Cassian had ever heard. The torture likely would have continued for longer, since he didn’t have the heart to stop Nesta, if they hadn’t been interrupted by the Cassian’s bedroom door slamming open.

Azriel yelled, “Cassian! I think a cat is dying in your ro- oh, hey Nesta.”

“Hey Az!” she replied, beaming at Cassian’s roommate until she registered his words. “Wait, what? You think I sound like a dying cat?” 

Azriel took a step back, prepared to run away, as Nesta stood up and placed the guitar in Cassian’s lap. 

“Well, you know, uh, it’s good to practice and all, but we don’t want noise complaints from our neighbors, or allegations of animal abuse so…” Az smirked.

“Wha- animal- Get back here you little-” Nesta sprinted down the hallway, chasing after a cackling Azriel. 

Cassian was still sitting there, laughing, when the two of them ran back into the room. 

“Save me, Cass!” Azriel pleaded as he tried to hide behind his friend. 

Nesta smirked. “You really think you can use my boyfriend against me like this?”

“He was my friend first!” Azriel gripped his sleeve.

Nesta rolled her eyes. 

“Please Cassian,” she said in an airy voice. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently tugged on his sleeve. 

He followed her lead without even thinking, until Azriel muttered, “Traitor.”

“Hey, wait-” Cassian interjected, coming to his senses.

Nesta stuck her tongue out at Az. “He loves me.” 

Whatever Cassian could have said on Azriel’s behalf dissipated when her eyes softened as they met his. 

Even Azriel’s over-the-top gagging noises couldn’t ruin the moment as Nesta smiled at him and murmured, “Can you teach me how to play la rosa del principe later?” 

“We’ll see,” Cassian replied with a smile, knowing full well that he’d cave into her demands, no matter the cost to his ears.

__________

Present day

“I love that you wanted to learn how to play guitar for me.” Cassian’s eyes were warm and full of mirth. “Even if playing music isn’t exactly your strong suit.” 

Nesta placed a hand over her heart. “How dare you suggest such a thing.” 

Her stern demeanor gave way to playfulness as she winked, “I guess you’ll just have to sing and play music for me while I dance.”

“Exactly. You see, Nes, we complement each other perfectly.”

“A match made in heaven,” she agreed with a laugh. 

“Honestly, though, it meant a lot to me that you wanted to hear me play,” Cassian said when they stopped laughing, “and that you wanted to learn.”

“It meant a lot to me that you were willing to share such a personal song with me,” Nesta answered, “and that you were willing to be so open with me without prompting. It was like a sign, you know, that our relationship was actually real and meaningful to you, too. Of course I already knew that but, like, I guess it just hit home right then.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. In that moment, I also felt how easy it was to be open and talk about anything and everything with you.”

“You see?” Nesta winked, gesturing between them. “We’re made for each other.”

She glanced down at the pictures between them. 

“At least I don’t need to put up with Az insulting my musical talents anymore, now that you don’t live together.”

“Talents?” Cassian coughed. 

Nesta shot him a warning glare before continuing, “I’m so glad I don’t need to hear him complaining or interrupting us anymore. That was the real reason I asked you to live with me, you know — so I wouldn’t have to hear his whining.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he replied. He leaned closer to her. “It was all part of my plan, Sweetheart.”

__________

Two years ago

“Don’t mind me, I just need to get to the kettle.”

Nesta and Cassian sprung apart at Azriel’s words. 

Azriel, with a bored expression, walked past the couple into the kitchen and filled water in the kettle. 

Cassian hastily redid his fly, clearing his throat a few times. Nesta, blushing furiously, scrambled to hook her bra and do up the buttons on her shirt. 

Azriel turned back around, leaning back against the counter as he waited for the water to boil. He reached into his back pocket for his phone, but noticed Nesta’s expression and rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Nesta, chill. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he growled. 

Azriel shook his head in exasperation. “How many times have I walked in on you two making out — hell, how many times have I walked in on you two fucking in common spaces? At this point, I’m immune to all this.” He waved his hand at Nesta’s half-open shirt and Cassian’s bare chest. 

Cassian slipped his shirt over his head. 

“Really?” Nesta asked, arching a perfectly angled eyebrow and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Cassian elbowed her and she giggled, buttoning up the rest of her shirt. 

“Az-” Cassian began, annoyance coloring his tone.

“No,” Azriel interrupted firmly. “If you don’t want me to walk in or interrupt you or whatever, go do whatever you want in your room. I’ve never once complained about the noise, even when I have to put up with your loud-ass moans and screams. But I have the right to make tea in my own house if I want to.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes. His stance changed unconsciously, gearing up for a fight. He opened his mouth to deliver a biting retort. 

“You’re right, Az,” Nesta interjected before the situation could escalate any further. “We’re sorry.”

Azriel was silent, his eyes fixed on Cassian. The latter let Nesta pull him towards his bedroom. 

About a week later, Cassian and Nesta were once again interrupted. This time, Azriel crunched loudly on his popcorn as he walked into the living room.

Cassian sent him a questioning glare as Nesta scrambled to cover herself.

“What?” Azriel replied, unfazed. “I was gonna watch TV, but, well, it seems like there’s a show right here.”

“Look-”

“C’mon, Cass.” Nesta sprung up from the couch, dressed in Cassian’s shirt, and took her boyfriend’s hand. “I needed to talk to you about something, anyway.” She winked at him and whispered, “I got a little side-tracked and forgot.”

Cassian shot Az a dirty look as he exited the room. 

“Did you actually need to talk about something,” Cassian asked with a smile as he sat down on his bed and placed Nesta on his lap, “or did you just want to distract me?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. 

Nesta laughed lightly. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always lie to manipulate you.” 

He widened his eyes in false disbelief. “Really?”

She shook her head with a grin. “Why would I when I can manipulate you just as well with the truth?”

“Ooh, you saucy witch,” Cassian joked.  

They both laughed.

Nesta pressed a hand to Cassian’s cheek to stop him as he leaned in to kiss her.

“I do actually want to talk about something.”

He leaned back and cocked his head. “What’s up?”

The twinkle in Nesta’s eyes dimmed.

“It’s my apartment.” She swallowed. “My landlord is raising the rent.” 

“Again?” he replied, alarmed. It had only been four months since the last time her rent had increased.

She nodded. “Yeah. And it’s not… I mean, it would be ridiculous for me to stay there, even if I managed to afford it. It’s definitely not worth the new rent.”

“So you want to move?” 

“Yeah.” 

Cassian seemed confused by her nervous tone. “Alright, well, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll help you with all your stuff, and I know a guy with a moving truck. It’ll all be okay. We’ll find you a way better place to live.” 

He gave her an encouraging squeeze and smile that she didn’t return.

“Uh, well, um. Actually, I was wondering if…” Nesta rolled her lips.

Cassian frowned, concerned by Nesta’s hesitant tone.

“Could I- I mean, I already spend so much time at your place,” she continued, “and I stay here a lot and we- um. Since I have to get a new place…”

“Of course you can stay here while you look for a new place!” Cassian replied.

“Oh!” Nesta sounded surprised. “No, I- I mean, thank you. But, uh, that’s not really what I was gonna…” She shook her head, annoyed at her own incoherence. “That’s really sweet of you, Cass.”

Cassian gave her a long look, trying to decipher her thoughts. “Are you trying to find a place on this block? I can try to get the inside scoop if that’s what you were asking.”

“No, no, that’s not what I-” She took a deep breath and then looked into Cassian's eyes. “Would you want to live with me?”

Cassian blinked. “Oh! Oh, I-” He started to grin. Then, he blinked again, and his face fell. “Oh, uh, I…”

“It’s totally fine if not!” Nesta quickly backtracked. “I know you already signed this lease and stuff, and I can definitely just move-”

“No, it’s- I-” It was Cassian’s turn to take a deep breath. “Nesta, I would love to live with you and I’m honored that you asked me and I’m- I’m so, so happy that you want to live with me. But, well, I just don’t know if it will work out, considering.” He shot a glance towards the door. 

Nesta got up from Cassian’s lap. “Oh.” She looked away from him as she gathered her clothes off the floor, trying to disguise her hurt. “Um, okay. Yeah. I get it.” Her thoughts spiraled as she changed out of Cassian’s shirt.

“Nes! Nesta, I…” Cassian seemed to be at a loss for words. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied half-heartedly after a beat. 

“Nes, I just…” he sounded frustrated. “You know how things have been lately, with Az. As much as I… I don’t think it’s realistic to think that he’d be okay with it, and of course I’d talk to him beforehand but, like, it is his place too and…”

She gave a noncommittal hum in reply.

The room was drenched in tense silence.

“Can you just be honest?” Nesta said finally, puncturing the tension. “If you don’t want to move in with me, just say it. I understand you’re renting this place with Az, but he isn’t unreasonable. We both know that if you talked about it, he’d be cool with it. Maybe he’d ask you to wait for a bit, until the end of this lease or whatever, but he wouldn’t stop you. So just tell me why you don’t want to live with me, because I- I thought we were… that this was…”

“I am being honest,” Cassian frowned. 

She gave an irritated sigh. 

“No, really, I am,” he insisted. “You were there with me in the living room, weren’t you? Didn’t you see how pissed he was? I guess maybe it wasn’t- Az isn’t the type to yell or anything. That quiet, passive-aggressive type shit is how he expresses his annoyance.”

“So?” Nesta bit back. “If anything, I would have thought he’d be glad if we weren’t here as often.”

“Exactly! I don’t think we should spend more time here.”

Nesta paused. “What?”

“I know you and Az do get along,” he said, “but I really don’t think he’d be fine with you moving in here.”

“Here? Wait, you thought- Oh. Oh!” Nesta brightened visibly.

“What?” Cassian seemed bewildered by her sudden change in mood. 

“Cassian, I wasn’t asking to move in here,” she laughed. “I was asking you to move in with me at a new place we’ll find together.”

Cassian’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yes, of course, I’d love that! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I thought- but- yes!”

Nesta grinned. “I should’ve been clearer, sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s on me.” His face slowly spread into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to work on communicating better if we’re gonna live together, huh?”

“I guess so,” she beamed.

Nesta embraced Cassian tightly. 

“We’re living together!” she whispered excitedly.

He hugged her back. “Yes, we are,” he replied just as thrilled.

__________

Present day

“I can’t believe we were so stupid,” Nesta laughed.

“I know right?” Cassian looked down at the photo once more. “No, but seriously, I was so elated when we moved into this place.”

Nesta smiled fondly. “Yeah, me too. I smiled for, like, 48 hours straight, even though we had to carry all those boxes and,” she paused dramatically, “unpack.” She shuddered. 

“Ah, yes, unpacking — the harshest of struggles.”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind unpacking, but well,” Cassian ran a hand through his hair suavely, “some people are just built different.”

Nesta flipped him off playfully.

“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be jealous,” he replied consolingly, “I have my own weaknesses. Like, I hate packing.”

She huffed. “Cass-”

“What? Oh, c’mon, what’s the point of my trauma if I can’t joke about it?” 

She shook her head with a chuckle. “So you’re saying that all that trauma was just character development so you could increase your humor stats?”

Cassian pointed finger guns at her. “Cha-ching! Now you get it.” 

Nesta laughed. 

She looked around, still awed by the beautiful display Cassian had set up for her. She picked up a rose petal and admired its color and scent. As she fiddled with it, she was suddenly struck by a thought. 

“Where are Ara and Lina?” 

“They’re with Em,” Cassian said reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean all this stuff up before they get back.”

“Oh, they love being at Emerie’s place. They get along so well with Siph, it’s crazy.” Nesta paused, struck by another thought. “Wait, but why did you ask her to watch them? I mean, why did you organize this whole-”

“Remember when we got them?” Cassian interrupted, pointing to another polaroid. “They used to be so tiny! It’s crazy how much they’ve grown.”

Nesta cocked her head, confused by Cassian ignoring her question. Before she could continue her line of questioning, however, her eyes landed on the photo he was indicating and she got sidetracked. 

“Oh my gosh, yeah,” she breathed as she reminisced. “I can’t believe we thought we were going to walk into the shelter without adopting a pet.”

“I can’t believe we told the landlord that we didn’t care about the pet policy because we were never going to get one,” he answered. 

“We’re so lucky we accidentally got an apartment that allows pets,” she agreed. 

“I’ll never forget the look on Cresseida’s face when we told her,” Cassian added. 

She replied, “She made sure we’d never forget. She was saying ‘I told you so’ for months.”

__________

One year ago

 “We’ll stop by for a bit, but we’re not adopting any pets,” Nesta repeated for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“Okay,” Cresseida answered with a knowing smirk, “but it’s also okay if you change your mind.”

Cresseida, Emerie’s girlfriend, ran a pet shelter with her best friend, Nuala. She had invited all of Emerie’s friends to stop by anytime, saying that she and the animals enjoyed having company. 

Nesta and Cassian had resisted at first, since they weren’t looking for pets and, in Nesta’s words, “weren’t the pet type”. Neither of them had ever owned a pet before. While they respected people who loved their pets, they also enjoyed making fun of those who dressed up in matching outfits with their pets for Halloween and talked about their pets as though they were their children. Also, while Nesta didn’t dislike animals per se, she also didn’t like them enough to feel any desire to live with one 24/7, let alone take care of one. Cassian liked animals well enough but he’d had some bad experiences with stray dogs when he was a kid. When they visited friends who owned big dogs who would greet visitors by pouncing on them or barking excitedly, Cassian would always plaster a fake smile on his face, but she’d feel him flinch.  

However, when Emerie used her puppy-dog eyes and pleaded with Nesta to just go once to support her girlfriend’s work, she’d caved and agreed to visit. Cassian and Gwyn — both of whom had yet to visit the shelter — came along with her, saying they should all just get it over with together. 

“This side of the shelter has dogs,” Cresseida said as they walked in, “and this side has cats. There are also some other animals in the back section. Feel free to walk around and ask me if you have any questions. Right now, most of the animals are in their individual kennels and the kennel doors are locked but let me know if you want to play with any of them.” 

“Alright, thanks,” Nesta replied.

She and Cassian shared a look. Both of them wanted to humor Cresseida, who was a great person and also the best girlfriend Emerie had (at least in Nesta’s opinion), but they both knew they wouldn’t be interested in any animals. They would just wander around the shelter until an appropriate amount of time had passed and they could politely leave. 

“Ooh, a kitten!” Gwyn exclaimed, grabbing Nesta’s hand and pulling her into the cat section.

Meanwhile, Cassian followed Cresseida into a different area.

 “Oh my gosh, this baby is only 12 weeks old,” Gwyn cooed at the striped tabby cat. “Isn’t she adorable?”

“She is cute,” Nesta admitted, but Gwyn had already moved on.

“Wow, this cat has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen! Oh, and look at this one! Do you see the face he’s making?”

Nesta laughed and followed her friend, nodding along to Gwyn’s excited commentary. 

Finally, Gwyn came to a halt with a gasp. She kneeled down wordlessly in front of an orange kitten, who blinked back at her sleepily. Nesta kneeled down next to Gwyn. She looked at the kennel in front of her. A jet-black cat was at the other corner of the kennel, hissing and growling at the young boy who was trying to attract its attention. His mother pulled him away just as the cat attempted to scratch the child through the glass. 

“Crazy feral cat,” Nesta heard the mother grumble under her breath as they walked away. 

Nesta raised an eyebrow at the cat, who regarded her with an equally judgemental expression. Nesta took a step closer to the glass. The cat did the same. 

She tuned out Gwyn mumbling something. Instead, she turned her focus to the tag on the kennel.

“Oh, wow, you still don’t have a name even though you’re eight months old, huh,” Nesta said. She had always thought it was a bit silly how pet owners talked to animals as though they could really answer, but now she found it to be the most natural thing in the world. Especially when the cat meowed in response.

Nesta cocked her head. The cat studied her for a few seconds. It stared intensely with its yellow eyes. Then, it tilted its head, copying her. 

She couldn’t help but melt. How was it possible that such a sweet cat had yet to find a home?

“Nesta! There you are!” 

Nesta jolted as Cresseida’s voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“I see you found little Miss Onyx over here,” Cresseida smiled. “I’ve never seen her be so friendly with any customers before.”

“Is her name Onyx, then?”

“Oh, no. We have tried to name her before, but she seems to hate every name we’ve tried, so we kind of gave up,” Cresseida explained. “We couldn’t keep calling her ‘the unnamed black cat’, though, so now we just refer to her by black object names.” Cresseida turned towards the cat. “Isn’t that right, Blackberry?” 

The cat hissed and retreated to the corner of her kennel closest to Nesta. 

Cresseida laughed. “See?” Then, she sent Nesta a knowing glance. “She seems to adore you.”

Nesta glanced back at the cat, who was now sitting with a paw on the glass.

“She is very cute,” she admitted. 

“She is,” Cresseida agreed. “Sadly, she’s fierce enough that she scares away most customers.”

“It’s like she’s made for Nesta!” Gwyn piped up. “I mean, look at her spunky attitude, her fierceness, her witchy vibes — since, you know, she’s a black cat.”

“I don’t have witchy vibes,” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn ignored her. “Not to mention, she’s right next to Mer,” she pointed to the orange cat, “who is my soulmate cat so our cats are destined to be best friends, just like us!”

“Wow, I didn’t- I haven’t said I’m adopting her yet,” Nesta protested.

“Yet,” Gwyn repeated, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

Cresseida laughed. “Well, let me know if you are seriously interested in adopting Miss Obsidian. There’s a few things you would need to keep in mind for her that we should talk about.”

Nesta nodded.

“What about Mer?” Gwyn asked. “Any special care she needs that I should know about?”

“Not really. We did have her on a special diet for a bit because she was slightly malnourished when we found her but she’s at a healthy weight now.”

Nesta walked away as Gwyn and Cresseida continued their animated discussion. How was she going to convince Cassian to adopt a cat? Actually, Nesta knew that wouldn’t be an issue — Cassian would surely jump at any opportunity to make her happy. The real question was how she was going to put aside her pride and admit that she wanted to adopt the cat. She would also have to see if Cassian wanted to adopt the cat, too, and not just for her sake. It would be unfair to both Cassian and the cat to bring her into a home where only one person truly loved her. Not that Cassian wouldn’t be kind to the cat, regardless — it was just that Nesta wanted Cassian to adopt the cat because it made him happy, instead of doing it for Nesta’s sake. 

Nesta was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she walked right into someone. 

“Excuse me,” Nesta apologized. The man turned around.

“You’re excused, Nes,” Cassian replied with a wink. 

“Oh, fuck you,” she groaned, holding back a smile. 

“I know I’m hot, but you’re gonna have to wait til we get home.” 

She replied with a soft punch to his shoulder. Cassian fell to the floor dramatically. 

A bark sounded from the kennel right in front of Cassian. Nesta quickly examined Cassian for any signs of fear, but he wasn’t flinching. Instead, he tugged gently on her arm. 

“Nes,” he said with a grin as she sat down beside him, “Let me introduce you to my new friend, Lina.” 

Nesta turned to find a large golden retriever wagging her tail energetically. She was beautiful and friendly, but she also definitely weighed more than twenty kilograms and had a full set of sharp teeth. In short, she was exactly the type of dog that Cassian would usually be uncomfortable around. 

Yet, here he was, saying, “Look, I know we agreed that we were just looking around and we weren’t going to adopt any pets but look at her! Her cute paws, that gorgeous fur, and those eyes! And she’s so happy to see me! Doesn’t it just make you want to keep her forever?”

His expression said it all: he’d fallen completely in love with this dog. 

“Cassian…” 

His expression dropped. “I know taking care of a pet is a lot of work. If we did adopt her, I would walk her and figure out her food and vet stuff, but she would be living with both of us, so I would never want to adopt her if you weren’t completely on board. And having a pet would affect our lifestyle and our day-to-day lives a lot, so I understand if you’d rather not adopt her.”

“Do you want to adopt her?” Nesta blurted out. 

Cassian looked confused. 

“I mean, she’s obviously a beautiful and friendly dog, but she’s in a kennel right now,” Nesta explained. “If we adopt her, she could jump on you or bite you or scratch you. Won’t you be on edge having a dog in our apartment all the time, even if you’re tired or having a rough day?” 

“All the other dogs I’ve met make me nervous, either when they bark or pant or just by being close to me. They remind me of rough times in my childhood, when I was scared and in danger. But for some reason, Lina is different. I don’t get any of that fear or anxiety around her. In fact, it’s the opposite. She makes me feel relaxed and happy. I think she actually makes me feel safe.” Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “Weird, huh?”

Nesta smiled. “I’m glad you found her. I still want you to take her for a walk before we sign anything if we’re going to adopt her.”

“Wait, but- We don’t need to adopt her just because I want to. If you don’t want a pet, you shouldn’t agree just for my sake,” he added hurriedly. Still, Nesta could see the corners of his mouth tilting up. 

“Yes, I want to adopt her! And,” Nesta continued, seeing Cassian opening his mouth to argue, “do you really think that I would ever agree to something I didn’t want to do, just for someone else’s sake?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you’re a big softie,” Cassian teased. 

She laughed. “Well, trust me, I do want to adopt a pet.”

“Of course she wants to!” Gwyn interjected, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “You should have seen her with that cat. It was like she’d found her twin flame! No offense, Cassian.”

“Wait, what cat?” he replied, befuddled. 

Nesta attempted to wave him off. “It’s nothing-”

“It’s not nothing!” Gwyn interrupted animatedly. “It’s her cat soulmate! A little ball of anger and adorable-ness, just like our little Nesta here.”

Nesta sent her friend a flat look. “Thanks a lot for that description.”

Gwyn just shrugged. “What? You know I’m right.” 

“Where can I find this cat?” Cassian asked. 

Gwyn pointed him in the right direction, telling him about all the ways in which the cat represented Nesta while pointedly ignoring Nesta’s calls of “No, it’s fine” and “You don’t need to go look at the cat” and “I don’t have spooky evil vibes!”. 

“Aww, look at her,” Cassian smiled as he crouched in front of the black cat’s kennel. 

The cat hissed in return.  

“You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Good girl!” cooed Cassian. 

The cat abruptly stopped hissing. She stared at him unblinkingly before purring quietly.

Gwyn erupted with laughter. “Wow, she really is just like Nesta, huh? Everything down to the praise ki-”

Her words were cut off as Nesta covered Gwyn’s mouth with her hand. 

“What the fuck, Gwyn! She’s a cat! That’s disgusting,” Nesta hissed in her ear. 

Gwyn licked Nesta’s palm, and used the moment Nesta recoiled as a distraction to pull her hand off. 

“I just tell it how I see it,” Gwyn declared. “And I have never once been disgusting.”

“Oh really?” Nesta replied, bringing the hand Gwyn had licked close to Gwyn’s face. 

Gwyn screeched and ran down to hide behind Cassian.

Cassian remained focused on the cat. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart. What’s your name, baby?”

“She doesn’t have a name yet,” Nesta supplied, before bringing her licked hand around Cassian to reach for Gwyn. The redhead let out another shriek and ran. 

Nesta could see the moment Cassian melted. His posture seemed to go soft as his expression turned even more tender. 

“You don’t have a name yet, huh?” he murmured. “I guess you need a family to give you a name and a home and some love.”

She placed her non-licked hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to ask to know that he was thinking of his own childhood — when he’d needed a home and a family, too. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, “me and your mom are going to give you so much love.”

“Cass, are you sure?” she questioned gently. She ignored how it made her feel to hear him refer to her as ‘mom’. There was too much to unpack there, and she would save it for later, after they’d finished making important decisions. 

“Look at her, Nes,” he replied. “It’s like she was made for us.”

Nesta knew it was more than just about the resemblances between her and the cat that Gwyn had pointed out. It was about how this cat hissed and growled at strangers, putting her guard up, but really was just a sweet kitten who needed some love. Both of them could relate to putting on a tough face to hide how vulnerable and hurt they really were. She knew Cassian was thinking that this cat would be a perfect addition to their lives.

“But what about Lina?” Nesta insisted. 

“You love this cat. Don’t try to deny it, I can tell.”

“That’s not an answer.” 

“I think,” Cassian said carefully, “we both love this cat and we should adopt her.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “And what are we doing about the fact that we both love Lina?” 

This wasn’t just about the animals, and they both knew that. 

It wasn’t that Nesta didn’t think Cassian wanted to adopt the cat — she knew he really, truly did. But she also knew that he wanted to adopt Lina. She wouldn’t let him give up on his wishes and always put her needs above his. While she appreciated the sentiment, she also knew he had a tendency to discount his own desires. She needed him to know that what he wanted mattered just as much.

Cassian let out a big breath like a deflating mattress, the fight going out of him. 

“I love Lina, I do. And I know it’s so special that I feel so safe around her — around a big dog with sharp teeth. But Nes,” his voice took on a different tone, “at the end of the day, she’s a friendly golden retriever. I’m sure a million families with white picket fences are lining up to adopt her. And this cat… I mean, she doesn’t even have a name.” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“I know we could love either of them, and they’d be incredible. But at least with Lina, I know she’ll find someone else to take care of her. I don’t know if this cat will find that, and she’s too…” Cassian paused to search for a word. His nose scrunched in frustration as his vocabulary failed him. “She’s too precious for me to take that chance.” 

He needed his kitten to find a home. He couldn’t risk her never finding a family — not when he had so much love he could give her. 

Nesta contemplated silently. 

“Okay,” she finally said, her eyes piercing through him as though she intended to read his heart. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do, we’ll get this cat.”

Cassian smiled. “Look at us, being real adults. Can you believe we’re going to be parenting this cutie?”

“Parenting,” repeated Nesta with a snort. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like we’re having a baby or something. People are going to think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Gwyn exclaimed, reappearing next to Nesta from wherever she’d run off to. She had clearly only caught the tail end of Nesta’s sentence. 

“Wow, I’m so excited to be an aunt! Do you know the sex yet? Wait, how far along do you need to be to know that? How many months are you, by the way?” Gwyn spoke too rapidly for anyone to get a word in. “I had no idea about this! How have you been hiding the morning sickness? Or does everyone know about this already? Oh, gosh, this is so exciting!” 

Nesta stayed silent, trying to hold in her smile. Cassian just looked bewildered. 

Gwyn gave Nesta a light hug. “Oh, wow, this is crazy! Am I the first one to know? Wait, is it ok if I tell people? You can tell me if it’s still a secret, don’t worry.” 

Cassian blinked. “No, that’s-”

“Oh, perfect!” Gwyn squealed. She reached over to hug Cassian, too. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Emerie! Oh my god, and Az! His reaction is going to be insane!” 

She practically skipped down the hallway, her fingers already tapping away on her phone.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at Nesta. “What just happened?”

Nesta finally let out a laugh. “Just Gwyn being Gwyn, I suppose.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I’m actually curious to see how far this goes.” She leaned forward, pressing her side against him. “Do you think they’ll throw me a surprise baby shower?”

“Rhys is going to be so pissed I’m having a baby before him,” Cassian grinned. “It’ll be hilarious.”

“We could tell them we’re having a daughter,” Nesta added, jerking her head towards the kitten.

Cassian laughed. He stood up and stretched out his body, likely feeling a slight ache because he’d been crouching for several minutes. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This is why I love you, you mastermind.”

His lips brought with them a wave of warmth that spread through her veins.

“Time to go tell Cresseida that we are going to adopt a pet after all,” Nesta chirped. 

Cassian groaned. “How about you go tell her, since you’re the one who was looking at this cat first,” he suggested.

“But you made the final decision,” she countered. 

“Well, no, I,” Cassian wracked his brain to find an excuse, “I think you would, uh, be better at filling out the paperwork.”

“Hmm,” Nesta tapped a finger to her chin and pretended to consider his offer, “How about… you do it?”

They were saved from their squabble when Gwyn reappeared with Cresseida in tow.

“So, can I take Mer home with me today or should I set up my place to be cat-ready first?” Gwyn was saying. 

“Ah, Cresseida! Just the person we were looking for!” Cassian interjected. “Nesta wanted to ask you something.”

Nesta sent him a frigid side eye that would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but only made Cassian grin. 

“We were thinking about adopting her,” Nesta said, pointing at the cat in question, “and were wondering what we need to do to make that happen? Is there just paperwork or something else we need to do?”

Cresseida’s expression changed completely. “I knew you would all walk out of here with pets!” she exclaimed triumphantly. Then she sobered slightly. “I’m so glad you’re interested in this cat, but like I mentioned earlier, there is something you should know.” 

Nesta nodded sharply. The anticipation and anxiety started to creep up on her. Was the cat sick? Or disabled in some way? Perhaps she and Cassian, as first time pet owners, weren’t equipped to give her the care she needed. 

“When we found her, she was only about two months old,” Cresseida explained. “We’re not quite sure what happened to her mother, since she didn’t seem to be with her family. But she had already bonded to another animal. They’re still quite close. Even though they’re generally kept in separate kennels, we usually let them play with each other once or twice a day, or she’ll start to get antsy. If at all possible, it would be best not to separate them. It may be possible for her to get used to living without her bonded friend, especially if she’s in an environment where she’s well-loved and taken care of, but it would be very difficult on both of them. So if you would consider adopting both of them, that would really be for the best.”

“Like, another cat?” Nesta inquired.

“It’s not Mer, is it?” Gwyn asked, looking worried. “If it is, I guess I’m going to have to move in with Nesta and Cassian.” Her face suddenly brightened. “I can be like a live-in nanny!”

“No, it’s not Mer,” Cresseida replied, “and it’s actually not another cat. It’s quite a unique situation. We’re still not sure how these two found each other and came to be bonded, but the other animal is actually a dog.”

“Oh.” Nesta felt her heart sink. She would hate to separate the cat from the one other animal that had been with her since she was a baby, but she also couldn’t adopt a dog. She wouldn’t allow Cassian to feel unsafe in his own home. 

“We could adopt both-” Cassian began, just as she knew he would.

“No,” she cut in. She didn’t care if it made her seem like the villain in Cresseida’s eyes. “I’m sorry, we can’t.”

Her eyes shifted to the kitten once more. The cat truly was adorable. Nesta would miss her tremendously, even though they’d only just met. Still, she couldn’t separate her from the friend who’d become her family. She would have to let her go. It hurt, but she knew it was for the best.

“I don’t think we’ll adopt her after all,” Nesta said. Though she had once prided herself on hiding her true emotions from the world, she could tell that both Gwyn and Cassian instantly read the meaning behind her aloof tone. 

“Yeah, you’re right, that’s probably the right decision,” Gwyn supplied. “Adopting pets and having a baby at the same time would be really hard.”

Cassian kept silent. She knew he was itching to deny it, to demand that she adopt the cat anyway, his feelings be damned. She was glad that he knew her well enough that she would not be swayed, and that his well-being mattered more to her than anything else. 

Cresseida sighed, disappointed. “I understand,” she said, resigned. “Dogs aren’t for everyone, especially if you have a lot on your plate. This dog really is the sweetest, although if you are allergic, a golden retriever wouldn’t be the right breed.”

“Hold on, did you say a golden retriever?” Cassian interjected. “You’re not talking about Lina, are you?”

Cresseida looked surprised. “I am, actually. I assume you’ve already made her acquaintance, then?”

“Wait, you’re saying we can adopt both Lina and this cat? And they wouldn’t fight or hurt each other?” Cassian repeated, as though he couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded too good to be true.

“They do play-fight occasionally, but no, they don’t hurt each other and they get along great. But, I understand that you can’t adopt a dog,” Cresseida answered, slightly confused. 

Cassian turned to Nesta. 

“Did you hear that, Nes? We can adopt them both.” 

He was beaming. 

“They’re so perfect,” he repeated as they brought Lina and the cat home a week later, after they’d made all the necessary preparations. “It’s like we were made to find them.”

She felt like she was floating, swept up by the exuberance in his eyes.

When she watched the kitten curl up in Cassian’s lap while Lina sat beside them, a paw resting against the cat’s back, she couldn’t find a name for the feeling that bubbled up inside her. The only viable contenders — love and contentment — seemed too small to capture it all.

When Cassian later asked her what she wanted to name the cat, she looked at the life they’d built together — the bookshelves lined with hockey history books and romance novels, the kitchen counter where Cassian’s favorite chocolate lay beside her mountainous tea collection, the polaroid pictures of them stuck to the fridge with magnets, and the pets filling their home with affection — and replied, “Ataraxia.”

Peace. 

__________

Present day

“I can’t even bring Ara and Lina around Cresseida anymore,” Cassian grumbled. “She always just talks about how incredible it was that we actually believed we’d leave her shelter without a pet.”

“She’s a menace,” Nesta agreed, though her words lacked any real bite. 

They both adored Cresseida, and were delighted at how happy she made Emerie. It was only that Cresseida shared their friend group’s penchant for teasing their friend mercilessly. 

“Her cooking is amazing though, so she makes up for it,” Nesta continued. “I had no idea vegan food could taste that good until I met her.”

“Speaking of cooking…” Cassian pointed to the last photo. It was labeled ‘cooking breakfast’.

Nesta leaned in closer to inspect the image. “When was this?”

“What? You don’t remember?” Cassian gasped in mock offense.

Then, he took her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”

__________

Three months ago

Cassian awoke to the birds chirping and the smell of pancakes permeating the air. He rolled over in bed, reaching out for Nesta, only to find her side of the bed empty. 

He let out a small sigh. 

It was a Saturday morning, and his favorite thing to do on weekends when they didn’t have anything planned was to spend lazy mornings in bed with her. During the week, both of them were too busy to linger in bed. Snoozing their alarms once was the extent of their indulgence. 

But on weekends, Cassian liked to savor the feeling of Nesta lying beside him. He would lay in silence, taking it all in — the blankets warmed by their body heat, the way Nesta’s hair glowed in the morning light, the gentle pressuring of her body laying against his. Eyes half-open, he would breathe deeply and allow the peaceful contentment to fill his lungs. When Nesta woke up, there would be time for slow kisses, quiet conversations, and tender lovemaking. Their room would fill with soft but unbound laughter and playful quips. Later, they would make their way to the kitchen. One of them (usually Cassian) would cook brunch while the other did the dishes, swept the floor, or started a load of laundry. 

This morning, it seemed that Nesta had broken their usual routine. 

As Cassian rolled out of bed, his eyes caught the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was 10:05 am, far later than he usually woke up on weekends. Cassian was almost always the first to wake, generally around 8 or 9 am, and he’d lay patiently until Nesta gained consciousness around 9:30. 

Clearly, he’d been exhausted last night. It had been a long day of training, and then they’d gone out for dinner with his friends. After coming home, he and Nesta had watched a movie and then spent an hour tussling in their sheets. He’d fallen asleep as soon as he closed his eyes. 

Cassian pulled on a pair of dark jeans and strolled out of the bedroom without bothering to find a shirt. 

He found Nesta at the stove, flipping a pancake. She looked ethereal with her long hair down and shimmering in the light that flowed through the window. 

“Morning, Nes,” he said after taking a moment to appreciate the view. 

Nesta’s long legs were bare. She was dressed only in his striped button-up shirt which ended right below her butt. As she turned towards him, he could see that she hadn’t bothered to do up all the buttons on his shirt. The V dipped deep enough that, had she been wearing a bra, lacy bits would have peeked out, but she’d clearly thrown the shirt on without it. Was she wearing any underwear?

She sent him a small smile in greeting. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t bother to wake me up,” he teased as he pulled one of the hair ties off his wrist and put his probably messy hair into a neat bun. 

“Well, it seems like I tired you out last night and you clearly needed your beauty sleep,” she shot back. 

“Are you trying to imply that I didn’t tire you out?” 

She shot him a smirk. “Well, I was up first, wasn’t I?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, even as he held back a smile. He loved this easy back-and-forth, joking banter. “I’ll have to remedy that tonight,” he declared. 

“Aww, did I bruise your little ego?” 

She moved the pancake to a plate, and poured more batter into the pan. 

“There’s nothing little about me,” he joked before walking up behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her. He was careful to steer clear of her arms, so that they wouldn’t accidentally touch the pan or the stove and get burned. 

He rested his head in the crook of her neck. “I missed you this morning,” he whispered. 

“Couldn’t survive a few minutes without me?” she answered. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile in the warmth of her tone. 

“You know I’d be lost without you,” he answered. His tone was light and humorous, but his words were no less sincere.

She let out a small, fond chuckle. “Good thing I was only making breakfast then.”

He inhaled deeply. The smell of her vanilla and jasmine conditioner mixed with the sandalwood scent that lingered on his shirt. His neck was at a slightly awkward angle, bent down to accommodate Nesta’s forward-leaning posture as she cooked, but Cassian knew he’d be happy standing like this forever. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, until Nesta stilled in his arms. He knew she needed to move in order to put the pancake on a plate and couldn’t do so with Cassian wrapped around her, but she also didn’t want him to let go. 

He waited for a heartbeat, then gave her a slight squeeze before unwinding his arms. Before pulling away completely, he pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.

Then, he walked over to the utensil drawer to start setting the table. 

When he sat down, his eyes flickered to Nesta’s figure, waiting for her to join him. He was itching to serve himself one of the pancakes in the middle of the table and bite into deliciousness. They smelled absolutely incredible. 

However, Nesta walked over with the pan still in her hand. She plopped the pancake from her pan straight onto his plate. Unlike the other pancakes, it wasn’t shaped like a circle.

“It was misshapen, so it reminded me of your face,” she quipped as she sat down after putting her pan in the sink. 

“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his smile. The pancake was shaped like a perfect heart. 

As they dug into their food, Cassian felt the domesticity seep into him. He knew how the rest of the day would likely go. They’d wash up together, and then Cassian would head out for a run with Lina while Nesta curled up on the couch with a book. He’d come home and shower, then make her a cup of tea. Later, they’d change the bedsheets, make a list of the groceries they needed to pick up, and chat, before watching a movie or ordering takeout. They’d end up having sex on the couch or in the shower — anywhere but on their freshly changed sheets — and then fall asleep curled around each other with Cassian’s arm slung over Nesta’s waist. 

Their lives had fallen into a routine. And Cassian loved it. This peaceful life they’d built together could never be boring — not when they always filled it with so much playfulness and their jobs were filled with drama by necessity. The regularity was a blessing, not a curse. When Cassian walked through the doors to this apartment, he felt the tension of the outside world fade away. He felt at home.

He loved the life they had created together, and couldn’t imagine anything better than having mornings like this one for the rest of his life. 

The thought should have shocked him, but it did not. He’d known for a long time that this was coming, but it was only now that it had fully sunk in.

He looked across the table at Nesta and caught her eye.

“What?” she asked with a grin.

He reached over and laced his pinky with hers. 

“Nothing.” He smiled. “I love you.”

She shook her head fondly at his cheesiness, but still replied, “I love you.” 

He wanted to declare his love for her in front of the whole world, and then spend the rest of his life with her. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his life than dedicating it to loving her. 

That day, he started researching rings. 

__________

Present day

“I love you,” said Cassian. His eyes shone brightly. “I love all the moments we’ve spent together and the memories we’ve made.”

He walked around the table where the pictures lay and grasped her hands. 

“I do too.” Nesta, although still confused by their impromptu outpour of emotion, was always eager to remind Cassian of just how much she adored him. “I love you so much.”

Cassian smiled. She could see that a million thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he took a breath to focus himself.

“I love you,” he said once more, as though he couldn’t help himself, just like he had after he’d first said the words. He’d been like a child who’d never been allowed sweets who had just been given a box of chocolates — he marveled at the fact that he had love in his grasp and he gorged himself on it, basking in the delight that he could say the words whenever he wished. 

“Every minute, every second I get to spend with you is precious to me,” he continued. “Whether we’re at a party, a restaurant, a vacation, a match, or doing chores at home, every moment with you turns to gold. You made my life so beautiful and meaningful and happy, Nesta, in a way I never even imagined was possible. Even in the harshest moments, I know I’ll be okay because I get to come home to you every night. You’ve helped me learn how to live, not just survive. Because of you, I can love openly. Because of you, I can be myself without worrying that I’m too much. Because of you, I can let myself feel joy, instead of constantly worrying that it’s going to be ripped away from me. I can only hope that I can make you half as happy as you make me.”

“You make me happier than I ever thought possible,” Nesta answered. She was certain there were tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. There were so many things that she could say — how the world had appeared cold and cruel, just like her reflection in the mirror, until she’d seen it all through his eyes. She would never stop being inspired by him — how was it possible for him to be so kind when the world had been so awful to him? How was it that he got wholeheartedly excited when it snowed, despite knowing the stinging pain of a cold night on the streets? His joy was infectious, and now she couldn’t help but admire the beauty in every little thing — children skipping down the sidewalk, the leaves changing color, and the birds chirping in the morning. 

Yet, she couldn’t find the words. How could she express the magnitude of her emotions for him, and just how much he’d changed her life? All she could do was look at him. 

He squeezed her hands gently and she knew he understood.

“You’ve made me a better man.” His voice was slightly raspy as emotion clogged his throat. “My life is so much fuller with you in it. We’ve made so many beautiful memories,” he said, gesturing to the pictures with one hand, “and I want to dedicate the rest of my life to making more. It would be the greatest honor to spend my life by your side. I want to fill that table with a million — a billion — more memories.”

“So, Nesta Archeron,” He released her hands. She blinked in surprise and found him kneeling before her, a small box open in his hands with something sparkling inside. “Will you marry me?”

Her gaze had gotten blurred with tears, but she blinked them away now. 

Cassian cut a stunning figure as he looked up at her, rose petals and candles glowing around him. His outfit flattered his body — the wine-red shirt showed off his muscular arms without being too tight and contrasted his skin tone well, bringing attention to his soft blush and curved lips to highlight his joy. His long hair was as glorious as usual, half of it pulled into a bun. 

Still, it was the look in his eyes that caught her attention. His beautiful hazel eyes, framed by his long, dark lashes, sparkled not only with love and joy, but also with breathtaking certainty. Unlike during that bookstore date so long ago, Cassian was secure in their love. She could see in his eyes that, even if she said no, he would not doubt their relationship for a moment. 

But of course, there was only one answer she would give to this wondrous man. He had come into her life like a fire, warming her and brightening her life in innumerable ways. 

“Yes.”

__________

Please tell me if you would like to be added or removed from a tag list! I haven't posted in a while so I'm sorry if the taglist isn't up to date.

Permanent taglist: @maastrash // @cass-nes // @notmewrongbitch // @verypaleninja // @courtofjurdan // @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter // @stardelia // @laylaameersworld // @thewayshedreamed // @thatsowlmazing // @meanceclosetohell // @jungtaekwoonie-is-life // @rowaelinismyotp // @bakingandbooks3 // @grandma-noob-lord // @awesomelena555 // @ bookstantrash // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @illyrianshadowhunter // @swankii-art-teacher // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @moodymelanist // @letstakethedawn // @nestaspegasus // @superspiritfestival // @perseusannabeth // @my-fan-side // @that-golden-lyre // @emily-gsh // @champanheandluxxury // @ simpingfornestaarcheron // @duskandstarlight // @ladynestaarcheron // @sv0430 // @nesquik-arccheron // @friendswithkevin // @dontgetsalmonella // @inkedstarlight // @arinbelle // @thegreyj Nessian taglist: @makainight // @nahthanks // @cupcakey00 // @nessiantrashh // @audreycressworth // @lady-winter-sunrise // @wannawriteyouabook // @shamelessdonutkryptonite // @julemmaes

#nessian #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #acotar #acosf #tw homelessness #tw mentions of abuse #tw mention of death #this is critical of rhysand and doesn't portray him as a feminist #sayosdreams fics #sayosdreams writing #sayosdreams

[inafieldofdaisies]

Last Line Paragraph Tag | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton

Dropping by with a little treat from John's AU where Oliver is grilling the shite out of Leslie. I couldn't bring myself to cut out any of his jokes, so you're getting an extended last line. ❤️

"Coffee run, boys. Anyone want something?", Oliver hollered, stiring up the rest of the detectives that were in at the early hour, "No? Byyyyeee." He sing-songed the rest as he threw on his jacket and Leslie did the same, rushing to leave before both could get wrapped up in actual orders. "Aye, you fuck, I wanted-", Ross' yell was cut off as McKenzie slammed the door to their division shut, whistling to himself on their way to the stairs. "Graham will retaliate, you know that, right?" "I promised Maxie I'd get him a coffee, there's only so much I can carry.", he explained while Leslie followed closely, "Plus, Ross has legs and cheated me out of my poker win last week. So… he can suck it." Parish chuckled, but it felt more forced than anything with his mind still racing with questions, "Weren't you also cheating?" "Beside the point." "Mhm.", he hummed as they hit the ground floor and made their way out the precinct. "You know, my jokes are only good if people are paying attention to them…", Oliver began while the two set on their usual route to a small bakery nearby. "I was listening, it just wasn't funny." The deadpan answer did little to convince him of the lie based on the snort he replied with, "Sure. Repeat it back to me, will ya? Then I can decide if it sounded funny or not."

"Fuck off.", Leslie remarked, pulling his coat closed against the sudden gust of wind that blew in. "That's what I thought.", McKenzie sent him a cocky smirk over his shoulder as they navigated the crowd moving down the street, "What did Rina do this time?" "Nothing." "And you've been looking like I kicked you in the nuts the whole morning over nothing. How long have we known each other to think this would work with me? Hell, I think even Vaughn would pick up on your lie, and he is as oblivious as they come." A groan left Leslie, but deep down he was thankful someone cared enough to notice the mood he was in and try to get him out of it, "I have no idea how we're still friends, you don't ever let up." "Why my ma said I'd make a great detective, and how right she was…" In ways Oliver truly was like a K9 that had caught a perp's scent, refusing to let go until getting an answer, on top of it all he was competitive as hell. The bakery's sign finally came into view, making him wonder if he could actually get away with not providing any details for once. Doubtful. "Well?", McKenzie asked again, swinging the door open and entering the shop first with Leslie close on his heels. "Coffee first." "Fine, but you try to dodge my questions, I'm locking you in the interrogation room until you start singing like a canary. I have all the time and patience in the world." "Buchanan will have your balls." He rolled his eyes as they took their place in line, "Think I care about what old Jerry will do?" Doubtful again.

Parish occupied his time by mindlessly watching the people seated at the tables in the back of the bakery, wishing his heart would skip a beat the same way it did for Sabrina when his gaze was met on accident by a woman sitting on her own. The little smile she gave him only darkened his mood as he forced his eyes back ahead and Oliver's hand landed on his back in silent support. "Jesus. It's bad." "I'm absolutely fine." "Sure, Sabrina. You're picking up all her sad habits.", Oliver grumbled, "Lying you're okay, going through life deep sighing over somebody you can't have for some stupid ass reason." He rattled out an order when their turn came and paid for everything, giving Leslie a much needed break from arguing over the ugly truth. "Just ask her out. You have to start somewhere.", his fellow detective insisted as they set on waiting to the side, "Who cares if she went on a date yesterday? Like, fuck, you sure won't be sending 100 roses to her and panic-calling her over a little bat paying you a friendly visit. You already have an advantage - you know what she likes and what she wants before she even figures it out." "60." "Huh?", McKenzie gave him a dumbfounded look. "60 roses is what Bruce sent." A snort left him at the choice of nickname, "Batman ain't cheap, I'd give him that. Though, I'd argue blowing your hotshot lawyer money on a bouquet is kinda idiotic." "Hotshot?" "Oh, yeah.", Oliver nodded at his raised eyebrow, "I looked him up myself, too. Fucker's a new partner in Atlanta. Has his name on the plaque and everything. I wanted to barf at his fancy photoshoot on their website, haven't seen anyone looking so sure of themselves while holding scales. Lady Justice is shakin'."

"Not making me feel any better about this." "I wasn't trying to.", a playful slap landed on his shoulder, "I'm trying to kick your ass into action. Get your girl. Getting laid will fix you both, I promise." "We've been over this." Thanfully, the woman out front waved Oliver over to pick up his bag, stopping the conversation they've had plenty of times before in its tracks. Or so Leslie thought until he was dragged back into it the moment they were back outside. "Spill, Parish and I don't mean my coffee.", McKenzie instructed him with narrowed eyes as they set towards the precinct and he passed him the takeaway to light up a cigarette, "You can even tell Rina you bought her the croissant. My treat." "We talked like we do every night yesterday…", the storm clouds above them certainly matched his mood, "and she let it slip that she's invited him over because his neighbors were annoying the shit out of him with loud sex." Oliver laughed way too loudly at that, startling a woman walking ahead of them and getting a dark look from her he met with a wink, "Batman wishes he was gettin' some." "I asked her to keep me posted, so I know she and Sav are safe." "Reasonable.", he agreed, "Considering they just met." Leslie sighed, "I expected a text, you know, 'We're all good, he left. Goodnight.' She called me instead… sounded completely off, mind you, I was close to jumping on my bike and driving there." "Don't tell me-" "No! Nothing of sorts."

"Good, because it would suck to get arrested for murdering one of Maxie's case victims." "After dancing around the subject, Rina announced that Bruce is stayin' over." "Uh-oh.", Oliver let out a whistle, "She actually went for it. Damn, I-" "In the guest bedroom.", Parish interjected before he could go on a tangent about Sabrina getting laid. He suspected he'd get an extra detailed version of possible events as punishment. The detective's eyes shone with a devilish gleam at the news, "Poor Batman. But… wait… why the fuck did she call you?" "She wanted me to convince her sleeping with him was a bad idea." The two came to a halt in front of their building, not exactly rushing to go back inside despite the subject. Oliver took a long drag from his cigarette, gaze running over his face before he exhaled some of the smoke and muttered, "And you did just that. Cockblocked him, six ways from Sunday." "No." The rest of the vapor left him at once, making him choke at the confession. "God-fucking-damn.", McKenzie croaked out between coughs as he hit his chest dramatically, "This ain't how I want to die. Especially before seeing you get laid for good." Leslie said nothing and tightened his grip on the bag in his hands, focusing his attention on the street, watching each passing car, instead of meeting what he knew would be his fellow detective's disapproving gaze. "You're an idiot, you know that?" "Thanks."

"It's accepted you look a person in the eye when they speak…", he gritted out, taking another pull of nicotine. "What do you want me to say?" "That you didn't actually encourage her to sleep with him and are now in this shit mood because of it? I'd start with that." "I told her the truth.", Leslie replied flatly, "You saw how she was after their lunch. I don't even want to ask how close they were at it…" "I didn't give them the chance to. For you." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, skipping over the part where he had mentioned protection, because Oliver wouldn't let him live that one down, "I reminded her it's rare she ever feels so strongly about anyone, that she shouldn't worry about the rules of dating or how soon it is." McKenzie dropped his cigarette on the ground, stomping on it with way too much force before throwing it in the nearest trashcan, "You basically shoved her in his bed, gotcha. How the fuck aren't you day-drinking? I'd be spiking my coffee right now." "Rina didn't say she would. In fact she made it a point to say how he's probably already asleep." Just shut up, Parish. His reply received a humorless laugh, "Oh, definitely. You hearin' yourself?" "Sadly, yes." "Good, because currently I feel like walking into traffic to put myself out of this misery…", Oliver pointed ahead of him and clicked his tongue, "but knowing my luck, the closest I'd get is getting run over by a kid biking to school, scarring us both in the process." "Dramatic." McKenzie blinked slowly, "I'm dead serious. And your phone?"

"My phone?", Parish felt his pockets with his free hand, wondering if he had managed to swipe it with another 'magic trick'. Certainly wasn't uncommon for him to pickpocket for kicks, even their Chief, Buchanan. "Yes. Why were you staring at it like it held the solution to all of our cases, and then some?" He produced the device to Oliver, his screen still on Sabrina's open message that he had reread an embarassing amount of times and tried to convince himself it had nothing to do with her late night guest. "I will be in a little bit later today.", McKenzie read her text that wasn't anything unusual to receive from any of the other detectives in Missing Persons, for Sabrina though, it felt out of character, monumental. Both of them were aware of that. "Leslie 'God-how-much-I-wish-you-had-a-middle-name-right-now-so-I-can-scold-you-like-a-mother-would' Parish.", the first part flew past his lips in record speed, "You got this from her and are still thinking she hadn't followed your advice to grab the handsome egomaniac by his horns?" Leslie hoped his shrug was nonchalant enough, "There could be another explanation. Many, in fact." Based on the 'Are you kidding me' look he received, his partner in crime wasn't buying it, "You sweet summer child."

Tagging, @jillvalentinesday @cassietrn @thesingularityseries @josephseedismyfather @unholymilf @madparadoxum @shellibisshe @shegetsburned @purplehairsecretlair @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @strangefable @onehornedbeast @voidika @direwombat @florbelles @corvosattano @theelderhazelnut @harmonyowl @simplegenius042 @clicheantagonist @euryalex @aceghosts @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @dumbassdep @wrathfulrook @nightbloodbix @quantum-lover and anyone that would like to share a line or a couple ❤️

#Oliver's reaction to John's pictures on the law firm's website 😂😂😂 #and you're getting all the lore about him: he cheats at cards and lifts people's belongings for funsies (John learned it firsthand too) #“the getting hit by a kid on a bike” is what he kept dropping as a line when I first started working on the chapter; he wouldn't shut up #I'm yet again convincing myself Hope County isn't ready for when Ollie and Cal are finally together in a room... #tagged <3 #wip: a trial of errors #oc: oliver mckenzie #oc: leslie parish #fc5 au #last line tag #last line game #last line wip #wip snippet #fc5 ocs #far cry 5 oc #tag games #wip stuff #wip game #wip tag #character dynamics #mygifs #ocs

[halloween-holly-leaves]

Reasons why My Way Home Is Through You represents HOLLYLEAF WARRIORS!!!!!

PLZ READ IF U CAN!!! THIS TOOK ME A LOT OF TIME, EFFORT, AND THOUGHT!!! /NF!!

WARRIORS SPOILERS AHEAD!!

Gonna take off all my skin

Tear apart all of my insides

When they rifle in

Mom and Dad think you'll be saved

This paragraph could refer to Hollyleaf's depression, loneliness, and insanity. Her anger and sadness could lead her to feel this way (Gonna take off all my skin / Tear apart all of my insides). "Mom and Dad think you'll be saved" refers to Hollyleaf finding out Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight weren't her parents, saying that they (specifically Squirrelflight) cannot redeem themselves for their lying, secrecy, and betrayal.

They never had the time

They gonna medicate your lives

You were always born a crime

We salute you in your grave

This whole paragraph refers to all of her parental trauma. "You were always born a crime" refers to how she is biologically half-clan. Her dedication to the warrior code makes her feel like a fraud after finding this out, or, as MCR would say it, she feels her existence is a 'crime' against the code. "We salute you in your grave" is sarcasm in this sense. "In your grave" is speaking to how Hollyleaf's parents are dead to her after she finds out it was all a ruse. "We salute you" is sarcasm, saying that Squirrelflight thinks lying to her "child" was smart, but really gave her trauma, and the lyric line is referring to how Hollyleaf could never forgive Squirrelflight for that.

Can't find my way home

This line refers to how she ran away to the tunnels and lost herself in her feelings and insanity. She feels she can't find the feeling in her heart to ever want to go back to ThunderClan because of all that has happened to her there.

But it's through you and I know

Hollyleaf would need to work out her feelings with her parents, her siblings, the prophecy, everything. She needs to process her trauma before she can ever go back.

What I'll do

Just to get back in her arms

Hollyleaf desperately wants to go back to childhood when she was happy and believed the lies in bliss. She just wants joy again, and not the guilt of the murder of Ashfur or the anger and hatred she now has toward her parents. "Her arms" is referring to Squirrelflight's "motherly" love that she enjoyed before finding out it was all fake.

Can't find the way

Can't find the way

Can't find the way yay yay yay yay

Can't find the way yay yay yay yay

Hollyleaf could never find it in her heart to ever return to ThunderClan, let alone forgive her parents or the prophecy. She was led to believe throughout her life that she was the third cat in the prophecy, and she was a pureblood ThunderClan cat with her two "loving parents". She could never begin to forgive anyone for the lies fed to her that she believed.

C'mon, Angel, don't you cry

C'mon, Angel, don't you cry

C'mon, Angel, don't you cry

C'mon, Angel, don't you cry

Hollyleaf tries to stay strong and believe that she has made the right choices and that it was never her fault. But deep down in her heart, her TRUE belief is that she brought this all upon herself because of her actions, and that she doesn't deserve to cry, because that would make her selfish, unworthy, and weak. All she truly wants is love, acceptance, calmness, and happiness.

TYSM FOR READING!!!! THIS TOOK ME SO LONG BUT I LOVE YAPPING ABT HOLLYLEAF YAY

(also these are not all of the lyrics, I felt some of them didn't completely agree with her character and/or I couldn't really explain how it did agree with her well.)

#a little bit of self-projection or wutevr but yeah...😼/nav/silly #hey guys can you tell i really like hollyleaf #wc hollyleaf #warriors hollyleaf #erin hunter warriors #warrior cats #wc #my chemical romance #my way home is through you #yapping

[mirjam-writes]

My research process for Be Still My Soul

I was asked about my research for Be Still My Soul (GO human au fanfic set in Finnish history. It has also its own blog @be-still-my-soul-fanfic for extra notes and background info), and I was so excited for a reason to babble about my process! Thank you for asking <3

The question was this:

Can I ask what your research process is? How long you’re willing to spend on it and then separating things you’ve discovered while interesting might not be right for the story you’re telling

The quick answer to "how long you're willing to spend on it" is always "way too much", truly ridiculous amounts! But I was also building on a foundation of existing knowledge. I have no degrees on history, but we learned the basics of all this at school. I also loved to listen my grandparents stories of the olden times as a kid; not necessarily about the war, but farming, customs and architecture. My proper interest in the civil war period began in 2018, during the 100th anniversary year. There were a lot of events, articles and news about the war, so I decided to read some of them, including old classics, and visit some museums. When I stumbled upon a reference I didn't understand, I read more, and that was a whole rabbit hole... But! When I started outlining Be Still, I was able to base it on a lot of knowledge I already had, and was able to add the big beats of the love story to the real historical timeline.

Then I started writing. I took a scene or a short period I had outlined and started to ask myself questions. What needs to be shown for the reader to understand the next big beat. What do the characters know, what do they see, what do they think. I always started my research from something related to the outline BUT it definitely got off track and severely out of hand so often! I found new details I could add to the story, and a whole bunch of details I hyperfixated in, researched for days---and used only maybe in one offhand paragraph.

I left so much out, because it was, at heart, a love story and not a history lesson. And some things made no sense to be explained in the story because they were every-day stuff for the characters! So, from the very early on I realised I needed an outlet for all that extra info in order to not clutter the story, and that's how the blog was born.

My biggest tools for research during writing were

online newspaper archives (to figure out what people actually knew and discussed at any current day I was writing about, because nowadays we of course know a lot more about the stuff that happened, than the people knew when it was actually happening. I also used newspapers to search for important information like if Vaseline was already available in 1918 Finland)

national archive's online photo archive (to get visuals of locations, clothes, houses and other things, to be able to describe them better)

Wikipedia (especially for looking for right words; I searched for a spesific thing from Finnish Wikipedia, then opened the English article to see the English word for it, and to figure out if the word is what I'm looking for. And then I went to Discord to ask around on writer's channels if the words I was about to pick were actually general knowledge for English speakers)

census data (I've also done genealogy research for my family, so I still have a subscription to some neat archives. These I used to search for names and professions, and to count amount of servants in big houses, etc)

library (I'm sure our local library thinks I'm doing some important historical research :D I read several books about other people's research, and also fiction. But I have kinda ruined the fiction for myself because I can now spot all the mistakes, and also, in one case, when the author described a scene in vivid detail, I could tell exactly which museum archive photo they had used as a reference!)

Whenever I found something I got curious about, all my other research (and writing!) stopped and I started googling more and more information, which sometimes did end up into the story, but more often did not! But I'm the sort of history geek that likes these rabbit holes, so I didn't mind much.

(Unless it felt like I got no new words into the story for weeks!)

#my writing #about writing #historical research #writing historical

[dolphin1812]

Here are some of the references in today’s chapter as explained in the Donougher translation’s notes! The notes are very long - they take up about three pages - so I’ll summarize some of the comments on this part of one paragraph:

“ Its tempest sometimes proceeds from a grimace. Its explosions, its days, its masterpieces, its prodigies, its epics, go forth to the bounds of the universe, and so also do its cock-and-bull stories. Its laugh is the mouth of a volcano which spatters the whole earth. Its jests are sparks. It imposes its caricatures as well as its ideal on people; the highest monuments of human civilization accept its ironies and lend their eternity to its mischievous pranks. It is superb; it has a prodigious 14th of July, which delivers the globe; it forces all nations to take the oath of tennis (1); its night of the 4th of August (2) dissolves in three hours a thousand years of feudalism; it makes of its logic the muscle of unanimous will; it multiplies itself under all sorts of forms of the sublime; it fills with its light Washington, Kosciusko, Bolivar, Bozzaris, Riego, Bem, Manin, Lopez, John Brown, Garibaldi (3)”

1) The “Tennis Court Oath” was when the French National Assembly gathered in a tennis court and took a vow to keep meeting as the National Constituent Assembly until they had a new constitution. This was in 1789, after the king had refused to recognize the Assembly and had also denied it the chance to meet where it had before as the Third Estate.

2) In an all-night sitting after the storming of the Bastille (14 July), legislation was passed to abolish all feudal rights and privileges.

3) These are figures who fought for “liberty” in some form, whether that be for their nation or people within their country. Washington was the first president of the US and the commander-in-chief of the Continental Army during the American Revolutionary War. Kosciuszko led the 1794 uprising against Imperial Russia and the Kingdom of Prussia on the part of Poland and Lithuania, and he also fought for the Americans during their Revolutionary War. Botsaris was a hero of the Greek War of Independence. del Riego was one of the leaders of the mutiny in the Spanish Civil War of 1820-3 that led to the reinstatement of the 1812 Constitution. Bem was Polish and took part in several uprisings there and in Austria and Hungary. Manin led the Venetian Revolution and advocated for Italian unity. Santa Anna fought for Mexico’s independence. John Brown was an American abolitionist and fought for his cause, leading to his execution by the state of Virginia. Garibaldi fought for the liberation and unification of Italy. 

The sheer number of references here is impressive, and it works to strongly link Paris to liberty, both for France and the world. The links are both through legislation and through fighting. The National Assembly, in a sense, wrote liberty into the law through its abolition of privileges and through the constitution. At the same time, that freedom was won by the people. Hugo and the note both reference the storming of the Bastille, and Hugo’s list of revolutionary figures further emphasizes a very active form of defending and gaining freedoms. Moreover, while part of the reason Hugo chooses figures from different places is to demonstrate how Paris can illuminate the world (it “delivers the globe”), it also results in a variety of definitions of freedom being encompassed here. Some of these, like Garibaldi’s, are a nationalist kind of freedom. Others, like John Brown, worked for freedom from specific abuses (in this case, he fought for an end to slavery). Their visions may overlap or contradict each other, suggesting a general push for “liberty,” but also a struggle to sort out what exactly that means.

#les mis letters #lm 3.1.11

[glitteraffe-art]

VINYL BRC MY BELOVED...

Vinyl is very much one of my favorite characters in BRC and she does not get enough love.

Though I originally wanted this to be more of a straightforward list of headcanons, it ended up being paragraphs of me rambling while trying explain my reasoning/analysis(?), so I can get a good grade in headcanons, which is normal to want and possible to achieve.

(Under the cut for length and for spoilers for the the story of BRC)

Overview

Vinyl’s roles early in the game tend toward covertly gathering information (observation of the Bomb Rush Crew during the first two chapters, with cutscenes showing just her shoes as she stands on rooftops, only fully showing up to hold back Red at Versum Hill) or bargaining using information (in her conversations in Millenium Mall, she mentions she knew Faux personally and hints she knows about Red’s dreams to motivate the Bomb Rush Crew to defeat DOT EXE).

She’s shown as knowing more than the Bomb Rush Crew about the whole Red situation, and intentionally keeping some of that information under wraps, though that’s specifically for Red’s safety (such as, when Red’s face is revealed, she lets the Bomb Rush Crew know that his true identity would be dangerous if others learned of it, but does not reveal who Red really is).

Later in the game, when DJ Cyber attacks her on top of Pyramid Island, he accuses her of being a double agent—which is true both ways, as she’s both acting like she’s betrayed DJ Cyber to join the Bomb Rush Crew while also actually still working with DJ Cyber, since it’s all part of his plan to get Red to remember his identity.

So, to me at least, Vinyl is a character who primarily deals in information, and leans toward being a “spy” type character.

Let’s get deeper into headcanon territory:

Prior to the Big 3 Era

Vinyl mentions she works for herself (and that this sometimes means working for others) at Millennium Mall. Plus, Tryce addresses her as “Vinyl the freelancer” after defeating DOT EXE. Because of this, I think prior to the events of the game she may have been an independent writer who occasionally worked with other crews if there was some benefit in it for her.

This also gives her a reason to know Felix, if both of them were independent writers prior to the formation of the Big 3.

Vinyl and Felix

To me, Vinyl and Felix really contrast. I’m not sure it quite reaches the levels of being foils, but their base similarities but completely different outlooks are intriguing.

I think that Vinyl and Felix have known each other for a pretty long time, of the characters who knew Felix prior to the events of the game. For one, she knows what Felix’s face looks like (which few know about, implying that 1. only close friends or people he trusts see him without it, and 2. he rarely, if ever, took off that mask). Plus, she’s comfortable enough to casually insult him (she mentions to Red that he’s just as slow as Felix in the opening of the Mataan chapter) despite the fact that other characters see him as a legend, so I feel she must have known him prior to him being put on a pedestal as a legendary writer.

Despite both being pretty independent and appearing kind of cold to others, Vinyl and Felix seem to have different opinions on trust and giving people another chance. In the dream memories shown after the Pyramid Island dream, Vinyl says she has a bad feeling about Faux, while Felix says a guy like Faux can change.

Felix chose to give Faux a chance to change, but it doesn’t seem Vinyl would have done the same in his place. Vinyl ultimately ends up accepting Felix’s assessment of Faux (i.e., to ignore that bad feeling about Faux), as she is the only one of the characters who personally knew Felix (the others being Faux, DJ Cyber, and Solace; Flesh Prince is also present but it’s unclear if he knew Felix personally) who is not present when he is murdered by Faux.

Despite being such an information-focused character, there was one piece of information she did not know—that Faux was, in fact, trouble (due to the whole framing other writers and cop dad situation thing), and that Felix knew this about Faux. If she had known this, if she had chosen not to accept Felix’s opinion on Faux, investigated further, observed more, would the whole situation have turned out differently? I think this is something that haunts her during the game, something that she regrets, and it probably makes up at least some of her motivation in being involved in DJ Cyber’s plan to bring Felix back.

On a sillier note, I think Felix and Vinyl are specifically the kind of friends who hang out by doing completely different things 10 feet away from each other. If someone asks if one of them is free, they’ll say they are busy hanging out with the other person. And they genuinely are hanging out with each other, it just doesn’t look like it from anyone else’s perspective.

Vinyl and DJ Cyber

It’s not clear how well Vinyl and DJ Cyber knew each other prior to or during the Big 3 era. But, despite Vinyl seeming pretty practical, she was totally on board with DJ Cyber’s absolutely wild plan to resurrect Felix.

I think they at least were acquaintances-turned-friends, since she must’ve trusted DJ Cyber a lot to go along with his plan.

Since DJ Cyber features a lot of vinyls on his person and just, generally, in his job as a DJ, you’d think that he and Vinyl would be more connected. In Versum Hill, Vinyl gives off the impression of being something like DJ Cyber’s right hand man (since she has a different design from the Futurism girls). In Millennium Mall, she addresses him with a sense of distance as her employer/boss, and DJ Cyber addresses her as one of his personnel on top of Pyramid Island. However, once their ruse is up, they seem to be on more equal footing than the arrangement they were pretending to have.

Since it takes a lot of dedication to keeping up a days-to-weeks-long ruse like that, I feel like the two of them are both dedicated theater kids. I think Vinyl was absolutely having a great time acting all mysterious and peppering in ellipses at Millennium Mall.

Also, since her name is Vinyl, she’s probably just as much of a vinyl collector/enthusiast as DJ Cyber probably is. They probably talk about record releases or rare finds or that one band they’ve been listening too recently in their spare time.

On a slightly related note, I think that Vinyl pays attention what bands/singers that people she’s close to tend to like, or their favorite songs. If she sees a record from that band/singer, she’d think “oh that’s the one that so-and-so likes, right?” and then buy it, with the end result being a collection of vinyls that vaguely represents her friends. Not that she was intentionally making it happen, it just did.

Vinyl and Faux

Vinyl mentions she used to know Faux personally at Millennium Mall, and she mentions that she has a bad feeling about him to Felix in the memory shown after the Pyramid Island dream. It seems that she knew him—it would be inevitable for them to meet at some point, after all, if she was hanging around Felix (and theoretically hanging out with DJ Cyber). She didn’t know about Faux’s secrets, but it looks like she was able to correctly guess he was trouble by vibes alone.

Faux is described as being quiet in Tryce’s description of the Big 3 (which is, I assume, how Faux acted when around other writers that he wasn’t close with), so I imagine that Faux and Vinyl didn’t have direct conversations with each other very much. Neither of them seem to be the type to carelessly share things about themselves, so...The situation was probably like “You’re friends with someone I’m friends with (...rivals with???), but I’m barely even acquaintances with you”, and probably resulted in some awkward non-conversations. I guess Faux probably dropped enough red flags when talking with either Felix or DJ Cyber for Vinyl to notice, though.

To me, Faux also seems to be a person who says things he thinks people want to hear, if he can get something out of them, and that he tends to be right in those assumptions (due to his interactions with Tryce at the beginning of the game). If he was Wrong about what he thought Vinyl wanted to hear, or if she at any point got the hint that he was just saying things to get something out of her with no real intent of being friendly, that’d be a pretty big red flag to her to think “oh, this guy’s Trouble” without her actually knowing his secrets.

Vinyl and Red

Vinyl is the only one of the people who knew Felix who really gets to interact with Red as Red, and not as Felix, if that makes any sense. Solace doesn’t know Red is Felix, and Faux doesn’t directly meet Red until Mataan. DJ Cyber only really interacts with Red as an antagonizing villain who shows up intermittently, and though DJ Cyber sides with BRC after he drops the ruse, it’s only after Red has remembered being Felix, and plus, he doesn’t actually join BRC until postgame.

Vinyl, though, joins BRC midway through the game. She gets enough time to get to know Red as a separate entity from Felix.

It must be weird to her, seeing Red. He looks like Faux with a helmet on and sounds like Felix with a voice filter, but isn’t quite either of those people. He asks questions a lot and gives off the impression of being quite naive. He’s technically Felix, but Felix minus however many years of experiences and successes and failures and memories is like, just some weird kid. But, a weird kid who works with a crew, which is something the Felix she knew only ever kept at arm’s length. Still set on being All City King, though.

Vinyl can be a little mean to Red sometimes, though. (like when she called him as slow as Felix post Pyramid Island). Admittedly, Red (as the Designated Player Viewpoint Character for Explaining Things To. And also the amnesia) can be pretty clueless.

Interestingly, Vinyl addresses Red as “kid”. More specifically, she says “Call me Vinyl… if anything, kid” when they meet at Millennium Mall. It seems he gives off the feeling of being pretty young to Vinyl. I don’t feel like she would address Felix as “kid”, since he’s got a beard, so maybe even from the beginning, she felt that Red was someone totally different from Felix? (As a side note, just how old is everyone, anyways?), Or, I guess it was just her part to play in her and DJ Cyber’s ruse. In order to ensure Felix comes back correctly, Red is Red, a totally different guy (until he’s not) and she doesn’t need to worry about it before then.

I think that to Vinyl, the differences between Red and Felix’s tendencies would be more noticeable than it is to, say, DJ Cyber, who doesn’t get much time to observe Red in action. Like, one difference could be that Red has a completely different center of gravity (due to the length of his cyberhead and different body) so maybe the way he does some tricks and some dance moves is a little different from Felix. I don’t think Vinyl would say anything about it during the game, but in the post-game, after Felix is “revived”, she might bring it up to Felix.

Vinyl and Tryce

As seen in Tryce’s dialogue in Millennium Mall, Tryce isn’t very trusting of Vinyl at first (due to her association with FUTURISM and DJ Cyber), but he accepts her pretty fast, especially after she smacked Escher over the head with a skateboard. Tryce seems to be pretty practical, and appears to value reliability. Vinyl genuinely helping BRC seemed to help change his mind on her.

Vinyl seems pretty focused on her and DJ Cyber’s mission (to get Red to remember) throughout the game, so I think she’d only really relax enough to become better friends with Tryce during the post-game. Since Tryce has an interest in music and mixtapes (he made the Hideout mixtape, and is a huge DJ Cyber fan), they’d probably be able to talk about the latest releases or albums. I think it’d be funny if she offhandedly mentioned to him that she got to listen to one of DJ Cyber’s upcoming mixtapes prior to release (since she and Cyber still hang out sometimes), and he’s just simultaneously Mildly Jealous and struck with the realization that he’s got friends who Casually Hang Out with the DJ Cyber, something that was totally unthinkable a short while ago. Vinyl doesn’t seem to be the type to get starstruck by anyone, and definitely not the legendary Big 3, so her lack of reaction about it would probably be baffling to Tryce.

Vinyl and Bel

Bel is a lot more willing to trust Vinyl than Tryce is during the game when Vinyl first introduces herself to BRC at Millennium Mall. I think they’d get along fine during the game, but just like for Tryce, I think that Vinyl would only really relax enough to become better friends with Bel during the post-game.

In the celebration cutscene that plays after beating the game, Vinyl and Bel are laughing while Bel takes silly pictures of Solace. I think it would be cute if they surprisingly had the same sense of humor. Bel is described as being on her phone constantly, so I think she’s the kind of person to text silly photos and memes to Vinyl. Of course, Bel probably sends silly photos and memes to everyone in BRC, but if something made Bel laugh, it gets automatically sent to Vinyl. Going by the in-game text messages, Vinyl probably responds with a text that is slightly like an email, which is funny in itself.

I think it’d be refreshing for Vinyl to be friends with someone as straightforward and openly trusting as Bel. Especially since dealing with the Big 3 (and the ensuing post-breakup fallout) was drama central.

Postgame

After completing her and DJ Cyber’s goal (reviving Felix), she seems a lot more relaxed. After the game, she stays with BRC, an interesting choice for someone who started off as a so-called freelancer. But it’s not like there’s any particular downsides to staying—she gets to hang out with people she trusts and is friends with, and besides, they’re All-City now.

Well, I guess she’s not being paid, but then again, I’m not sure if DJ Cyber was actually paying her when she was allied with him and Futurism, since it could’ve just have been something she just said he was doing, as part of the Role she was playing in her and DJ Cyber’s ruse. On that note...

Graffiti Won’t Pay the Bills

I wouldn’t be surprised if Vinyl had a “real job”, even if only part-time, on top of being a writer. I think she’d be the kind of person to try to keep her work and writer lives completely separate, with a completely separate group of friends and acquaintances for each sphere who don’t even know the other sphere exists. Given the fact that New Amsterdam is functionally a police state hellscape, she’d be pretty justified in keeping them separate. If word got out about her being a writer, the cops would probably crack down on anyone near her.

In Millennium Mall, she mentions she knows the mall like the back of her hand. If she hung out there as a writer, I feel like DOT EXE would be more familiar with her, but they don’t seem to make any special note of her. Maybe she works (or worked) at one of the stores there?

Respect Your Elders

I think Vinyl is friends with the Oldheads. I think it would be cool if she learned about the best shortcuts through the city (for traveling quickly and appearing and disappearing without being seen, of course) and the best places to observe the boroughs from them.

I could see her as a future leader of whatever Oldhead equivalent is set up in the far future, since their job is basically to Watch Shit Happen, and drop Ominous Information you didn’t know every once in a while...which she kind of does already!

You Can Say Hi

Not quite a headcanon per se, but since the one trailer for Bomb Rush Cyberfunk features Vinyl’s voice actress doing the voiceover narration while You Can Say Hi plays, I associate that song with her. Actually, prior to the release of BRC, I thought that she was going to be the secondary main character/female lead! I was surprised she was really only was introduced about midway through.

Bonus: Concept Art

Anyways, as a side note, here’s some concept art from Dion Koster (pinned on his Twitter, https: //twitter.com/DionKoster/status/1364838899659472903/photo/4, remove the space) featuring a Vinyl with reddish brown hair and a stylized Audio-Technica Soundburger record player on her wrist.

It has no basis in canon, but I’m partial to the idea that Vinyl knows how to fight with wheels of steel, but unlike DJ Cyber, who goes for long-range projectiles attacks, goes for close combat with a wrist-mounted weapon. She’s quick thinking and has a fast reaction time (she’s the first to act when Escher shows up unannounced) so in a close combat fight she’d be pretty tough to beat.

There’s not much use for a real weapon, though, if cops just run away if you kick them enough times or spray them with spraypaint and almost all writer conflicts are solved via crew battle. I’m not sure what situation she would need to use it in or what would lead her to learn to use it, but I still like the idea.

#bomb rush cyberfunk #brc #vinyl brc #...this ended up being longer than the fic im working on right now... #anyways vinyl is number 1 in my heart. not enough vinyl brc fans in this world. #courts talks

[ltwharfy]

"Bob's Burgers" Season 1 Episode Ranking Rewatch (Long Post)

Remember that "Bob's Burgers" episode ranking spreadsheet that @babsvibes came out with a while back? No, well, that's okay. But I personally thought it was one of the coolest things ever.

I particularly love how it calculates average ratings for the seasons because, honestly, I have no freaking clue what my favorite season of "Bob's Burgers" is. I'm certain it's somewhere between seasons 3-10 (inclusive), but other than that, I couldn't say. Because it is an episodic comedy with a rather consistent high level of quality, the individual seasons don't feel that distinct to me. (Now ask me about seasons of "Buffy" or "Deep Space 9" and that's a totally different ballgame...) The writer and director ratings appeal to me for the same reason- I recognize the names of the writers but have never noticed enough variation to label one as a favorite (again, "Buffy" and"DS9" would be contrasts to this.)

But I quickly realized that I couldn't just sit down and rate all the episodes because, for a lot of them, I've never really thought about how good they were. I know the episodes I love and practically have memorized (hey, "Bob Actually", I see you) and I know the rare episodes I had a strong negative reaction. But, honestly, I hadn't thought about "The Hormone-iums" enough recently to be able to assign a number to it.

The solution to this is: rewatch! I'm rewatching every episode and entering a rating in the spradsheet within minutes of finishing it- the ratings are very much a gut reaction after watching the episode! I've finished rewatching season 1 and my thoughts on it are below (I'm also watching episodes I come across on cable when I have the time, so I do have some episodes from later seasons filled in and I'll share subsequent seasons as they get completed.)

Oh, and here's a word about what the ratings mean to me: I'm seeing this as a 1-5 scale that I could rate all TV shows, or even all types of entertainment, on. So, a 3 doesn't mean I think it's an average episode of "Bob's Burgers", it means I think it is an average episode of television. It means it's fine, I wouldn't turn it off if I wanted to watch TV and it was all that was on. I also think of the scale a lot like letter grades with 3= a C, 4=B, and 5=A. That also explains why I haven't actually rated anything a 2 or a 1 yet. The Belcher kids might get Ds on their report cards, but "Bob's Burgers" rarely makes D episodes, IMO.

Okay, if you actually read the several paragraphs of introduction, here are my Season 1 episode ratings (the episode rating is the number in the furthest right column):

The average (mean) for the season was 3.54 and the mode (most common rating) was 3.

Some thoughts on the season as a whole:

First, I think one of my less commonly-held opinions in "Bob's Burgers" fandom is that I don't think Season 1 was awful. It's not as great as the show would become but, honestly, I think it is far from the worst example of Early Installment Weirdness on a show that I love. I've watched the show since it debuted, and even in those early episodes I enjoyed it enough to keep coming back week after week. If it had been cancelled after season 1, I wouldn't've viewed it as a tragedy like "Firefly" or "Terriers", but I would've been annoyed because I thought it was a promising show that made me laugh sometimes and had some talented folks working on it.

Rewatching these early episodes, I still found a lot to enjoy about them. There are some classic storylines and jokes, and while there was definitely a process of fine-tuning that would continue through the first few seasons, I think most of the character's core personalities are pretty recognizable. (Bob is actually the character whose personality seems most different in my book. It was really Bob's personality and the general family dynamic that took the longest to figure out.)

Some thoughts on particular episodes:

One thing I noted while doing the ratings is that 3 can mean at least two different things to me. Sometimes, 3 just means the episode is meh; I'm kind of indifferent it to it but it's okay. "Torpedo" falls in that category. I have very little to say about "Torpedo". Other times, 3 is more of a mixed review, where I loved some things and hated others. An example of that would be "Human Flesh"- I hate the child molester and autism jokes. But I really enjoy other bits, like Hugo's poem, Bob's speech to the protestors that ends up going off the rails, the kids locking Bob out of the restaurant, etc. So, I just average out the good and the bad and give it a 3.

It was interesting comparing my feelings towards these episodes going into them versus the ratings I ended up giving them. I ended up enjoying "Sexy Dance Fighting" and "Sacred Cow" more than I thought I would. Can't really give a good explanation except "they were funnier than I remembered". With "Sacred Cow", I'll add that I really like Randy and his dynamic with Bob, and that, on rewatch, the episode wasn't as mean spirited towards vegetarians as I recalled it being (my sister has been a vegetarian for decades, so I hate when people make cheap shots at them.)

On the other hand, my ratings for "Hamburger Dinner Theater" and "Sheesh! Cab, Bob?" were lower than they would've been if I was just going from memory. For those two, the subsequent evolution of the show made me like them less than I did when they first aired. For "Hamburger Dinner Theater", I remember really liking the songs when it first aired...but the show has done so much more impressive musical work since then that I can't say it's songs elevate it. For "Sheesh! Cab, Bob?", I really dislike the mocking of Jimmy Pesto's diaper fetish towards the end of it. It just seems mean spirited and out of character for the show when compared to later seasons. Yeah, Jimmy's a jerk but we shouldn't mock his sex stuff.

I totally admit that the ratings are shaped by my own personal tastes, and maybe the best example of that is "Spaghetti Western and Meatballs" getting a 4. Why did it get a 4 rather than a 3? Mainly because its really the first episode where we see the softer side of Louise and realize how much her relationships with her family, especially her dad, mean to her, and I love that stuff.

EDITED TO ADD: "Art Crawl"! I can't believe that when I originally posted this I didn't mention anything about the first episode I give a 5. I wish I could give a better explanation than "I found it very funny: but that's pretty much it. It is one that I remembered considering a highlight back when I was first watching this season, and in this case, I found it even funnier than I remembered. I really enjoy Edith and Harold- their voices and hostility towards the Belchers crack me up- and this was a great introduction to them. I particularly love the scene when Edith refuses to let Harold drink water from Bob's Burgers. Oh, and this episode introduces Gayle, too, and does a great job with it! Just a solid, hilarious episode, IMO.

Random thoughts (stuff that doesn't affect the ratings):

Gloria is my least favorite "Bob's Burgers" character. If you had asked me prior to the rewatch, I might say she has no redeeming moments on the show. But in "Crawl Space" she sticks up for Bob and Linda to Mr. Frond. So she has one good moment, in the show's second episode.

The bit of Early Installment Weirdness that bothers me the most? Ms. LaBonz's voice is off! Contrasting her appearance in "Lobsterfest" to her later appearances makes it clear how much the voice helps make the character.

I'm a big fan of the supporting characters in Louise's 4th grade class- Rudy, Kaylee, Arnold, Chloe, Millie, Jessica...so it is so weird that none of them are present in these early episodes but Large Tommy is! Weird to think that after Louise, he was first of those 4th graders to be introduced- he has a non-speaking role in the pilot episode!

Is there anybody out there who ships Normal Sized Jenny and Regular Sized Rudy? They've clearly got a lot in common....(This is a stupid joke. The last thing I need is another Rudy ship.)

I'll probably post something like this when I finish rating each season. The other posts will likely be shorter because they won't have the several paragraphs of introductory text at the beginning. Thanks for reading if you did!

#bob's burgers #bob's burgers season 1 #bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch #long post

[pebblysand]

For the asks - 🌈 (for castles), 🌻, 🍭

Thanks for the newest castles chapter!!

hi!! thanks!!

[ask game here]

🌈 (for castles) is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

so generally, i don't tend to think there's anything that i worked on really hard that you guys wouldn't know about because truth be told, i kind of think hard work ... shows? like, i know you asked this about castles but taking the broader fic question for a second, i think it shows that i worked harder on something like the fault in faulty manufacturing, than i did for, say, a louisville slugger to both headlights. i like both fics, don't get me wrong, but i think it shows when you spend hundreds of hours on something, versus just a couple, you know?

having said that, with regards to castles (but also with writing generally), i think what i struggle with often is probably just knowing how much to show, how much to tell, how much to let you infer. like, for example, this, in chapter 18:

He is silent for a bit. Tired. Ginny bumps the shoulder of his Levi’s jacket against the fabric of his jumper. ‘I mean, I’m sure we can keep yelling about it but we both know what this is really about.’ He breathes. In, out. Feels the weight of her head drop against his shoulder. There’s stuff they don’t even need to say, anymore. Like: the fact that the idea of her using sex to get what she wants out of a world that’s so fucked up it considers ‘sexy’ to be a currency will always make him want to retch. That: he regrets his choice of words, ‘whoring out,’ but. That he loves her - so much, and wants to protect her, and what if this all turns sour? What if she’s not okay , again, like she wasn’t on those nights she woke up next to strangers and didn’t know where she was?  He knows what she’d say as well, though. That time’s passed, that she’s better, that it’s her life and she feels ready and she gets to choose. That Samira’s right, too, that it’s time for women to be treated differently and if that’s something she can contribute to by adopting this persona, that���s not even that far from the truth, then the end justifies a little bit of self-sacrifice for the greater good. That, after him, it took ages for her to feel like her body was her own again, and that now, she likes people looking. That it makes her feel good - powerful. That because of the things she’s done, they’ll always talk about it anyway, so she might as well take the conversation somewhere useful. Control it and take anything she can gain from it. That, also, she doesn’t care if some sorry bloke wanks off to pictures of her in his basement because that’s all he’s ever going to get. That: she prefers Samira’s plan to the alternative, which would be to hide and apologise for herself, and which makes her want to retch.  Under his shoe, Amycus Carrow’s like this piece of gum they can never quite get rid of, Harry thinks. Ginny smiles at him. ‘If that’s all he is now, a dirty piece of gum, then that sounds lovely, actually.’

in the first draft of this, the two middle paragraphs in italics were actually dialogue. i was "showing" (by H&G explaining how they felt) but i felt like that was too heavy and redundant in terms of what we already know (plus, i don't love heart-to-hearts in dialogue, i find them really hard to write convincingly). so, in the second draft, i took everything out. then, i thought: wait, am i gonna get comments from people asking me what the whole exchange meant?

to tell you the truth, i sat there for a very long time last tuesday being like: to delete or not to delete? redundant or not? to me, personally, all of this is inferable. like, at that point, i feel like we know both of them and what their positions are well enough to know that that is what they're thinking. so, i do think it is all a bit redundant in a way. i think i certainly could have deleted these two paragraphs.

i think this is one of the reasons i would love to have beta for castles. like, sometimes, i just need someone to do a sanity check of: is this understandable for anyone but me, or is it just clear in my head? that's a part i often struggle with. i think the reason why i kept it here in the end was that i asked myself: am i okay with people misinterpreting this exchange, though? like, sometimes, you sort of have to cater to the lower common denominator and think even if 90% of people would be capable of inferring that on the basis of their reading comprehension skills, am i okay with 10% not doing so? and here, because i think it's a very important exchange, i didn't think i was okay with taht. especially because i didn't want to misinterpret it by thinking ginny was doing this to piss off harry, or that he was that resistant just because he was jealous, you know?

so yeah, it's obviously easier when you have a beta but it is something i do struggle with a little.

.

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

lol, that exhausted, burnt out post from this summer will haunt me for decades, won't it?

more seriously, what makes me want to give up is capitalism. what keeps me going is spite.

.

🍭why did you start writing?

i think that's such an interesting question, which i don't have the answer to. for a lot of people, they seem to get into fandom, start seeing fanfics and are like: "oh, i'd love to do that too," or "i'd love to provide my own take" and start writing like that, as a hobby they more or less consciously picked. i think that's super cool.

that wasn't really my case, though, in the way that i was writing (albeit badly) before i even discovered fandom/fanfiction. i just loved writing from as far back as i can remember. i always tell this story but when i was 4/5 years old, i couldn't even write yet, but i had a babysitter and i would dictate stories to her. i would fold sheets of paper like a book and would do the drawings. then, when something needed to be written, i would ask her to write it down Exactly How I Wanted (yes, i was born type A ^^). so, i guess even back then, before i had even learnt to write, i already loved "writing", you know?

but also, it's difficult because i think that's something a lot of children do - i don't think i was "exceptional" in that sense. yet, they probably don't all end up being writers. and, as i've said before, i'm not really someone who believes in talent or in something "innate," when it comes to writing. so, of course, if you asked me where my current skills come from, i would obviously say "hard work", that's easy. and, obviously, a massive dose of privilege in being born in a country and to a family where it was possible to foster writing skills due to an array of economic and social advantages - but anyway, what i mean to say is that i don't think writing skills are innate, i think they are learnt.

having said that, as much as i like emphasising the fact that writing is work (and therefore, you can hone those skills), there is still this question of: why did you pursue it, versus 1) other people born in roughly the same conditions and 2) other hobbies like painting, music, etc.? the question being, in sum: why did you start writing? and, that, i can't explain. my mum loves reading, but she's not a writer (or an artist in general, tbh). my father was a wannabe writer but never did much with it and i didn't grow up around him at all. my maternal grandmother apparently loved writing really long letters to her children after they left home, telling them about life - could it be genetic somehow? i reckon there are enough nepobabies trying to follow the footsteps of their talented parents and miserably failing for us to conclude that it's probably not, though.

to me, it's the age-old question of: why do artists start making art? why are artists artists, and not everyone is an artist? because although i believe in hard work, i also believe that you either are a writer, or you aren't. and i don't think it has anything to do with being published or not, being "good" or not ("good" is not an objective standard, anyway), or being "successful" or not. i think it has to do with an inexplicable "spark" that exists in some and not in others. by which i mean: there are people on AO3 who publish very good, high quality stories, but for whom writing is a hobby. if they stopped tomorrow (because #life), they would probably miss their hobby (and their fandom friends, etc.) but they wouldn't collapse. it's a bit like me and hiking. i love going on hikes but if i don't go for 6 months in the winter, i'm fine, you know?

writing, for me, is totally different. if i don't write, i can't breathe. if you wanted to, you could literally track my periods of depression on my AO3. all the years i didn't post a single thing - those were the darkest times where i couldn't get my head out of the water. it's also why i'm ready to sacrifice so much for it, my weekends and my sleep - because i have learnt over the years that me not writing is worse than me writing to a level of true exhaustion. of course, stopping short term as a breather is fine but long term, for more than a few months? it sounds like a good thing at first, but it really isn't. and so regardless of talent, regardless of kudos, regardless of potential publishing deals, regardless of everything else, writers write because they need to, or else they will collapse.

and, that - that, i can't explain why.

#asked and answered #writing

[platthepotato]

I have procrastinated for too long! I have constantly thought about this post yet never took time to finish it so here we go!

Bestiaries in Video Games

Now this is something I find criminally underused in video games. A section of the game to study your foes or review the encounters of your journey is such a beautiful thing to have for all kinds of games. RPGs (Role-playing games) can use a bestiary as a document of your adventure, showcasing your enemies and exploring their designs and habits. Why does this enemy exclusively use melee weapons when others use range? Well a bestiary can showcase some history and explain the reasoning behind it!

They don't even have to be super complex. A good bestiary could even be as simple as a list of enemies with their names and stats. Although truly memorable ones are the bestiaries that expand upon the lore of the game and either increase your curiosity or understanding of the creatures that exist within. Let's use Risk of Rain 2 as an example.

Risk of Rain 2 (RoR2) features a combo bestiary and collection book they call the Logbook, though for now we'll be focusing on the bestiary aspect. The game writes entries in this book as they are diary entries/reports from an old group of explorers on the planet. This leads to a very fun combination of curiosity and understanding being expanded. This is accomplished by the entries mostly being recounts of first encounters with these creatures. It builds your understanding by showing the nature of these creatures and how they act toward others, not just you. While that curiosity is ramped up by these being first encounters, they're not being studied, there aren't meticulous notes, sure you've learned something but there's still more that you could learn about them.

RoR2's Logbook also lends itself to gameplay related benefits in its bestiary entries. It lists the base stats of every creature as well as how they scale so, should you choose, you have the ability to calculate the exact stats of whatever you're fighting, when you fight it. In addition it has the number of times you've killed that enemy, the number of elite variants of it you've killed, and the number of times it killed you. Now that is an interesting one. You get to learn the creature's raw strength through its stats but what does that mean to you? Nothing really but you've killed 100 of them, and it has killed you 100 times back, now it means something. Now you feel that strength of the creature, that's a worthy foe to fight.

Another fantastic bestiary exists in Honkai: Star Rail (HSR), my recent obsession :). Through the Enemy Creatures tab of their Data Bank you can view all the enemies you've fought through your journey. It shows their 3D model, allowing you to rotate it horizontally, view their weaknesses and resistances, and a short blurb adding some detail to the enemy. Now this isn't a vastly expansive bestiary but as HSR spreads details throughout their whole game this is a great spot to be able to view them from a mostly combative viewpoint, understanding more of their function as an enemy and saving the majority of their story for elsewhere. It shows a good knowledge of their storytelling and preventing themselves from being too overbearing with the details.

Lastly I'd like to look at Terraria, which has one of my favourite bestiaries ever. It lists all NPCs in the game, friendly, wildlife, enemies, it's all right there. The more of something you kill the more of its entry you unlock! You can see all of a creature's stats, the amount you've killed, a small paragraph with some lore about them, all of the items that creature can drop with the exact chances of them dropping and lastly both a number and percentage telling you exactly how close you are to fully completing the bestiary. With an NPC who will reward you at certain percentages of completion. It touches upon every aspect of the game, showcases everyone you meet, friend or foe, and rewards you for that drive to encounter everyone and everything. A truly special bestiary that fits into its game perfectly.

Bestiaries are fantastic for expanding upon the lore of a world and some documentation of what you see but what about the things you as a player do? You can see the foes you've conquered but how did you do it? Where does your strength come from and what are the tools to your success? Enter: Collection Book. Which will unfortunately be a topic for another day, I honestly underestimated how much I have to say about both of these topics so they'll each be their own blog post now, rather than coupled together. Hopefully it won't take as long for the collection book one.

Also if you're interested in any of the games I mentioned today I highly recommend them.

Risk of Rain 2 is a third-person roguelike game that gets harder and harder as time passes by, with the unique ability of being able to stack multiples of one item to make them stronger

Honkai: Star Rail is a turn-based RPG gacha game (more F2P friendly than most but not mentioning this is a crime against humanity) that has plenty of interesting mechanics to shake up the turn-based format, with a heavy focus on world building and storytelling

Terraria is a 2D adventure RPG with the ability to create and destroy the world as you choose (in a similar way to Minecraft) you can take on terrifying bosses by night and build the NPCs a wonderful town to live in by day

That's all from me, enjoy your day!

Thank you for reading!

#video game design #video games #game design #game development #honkai star rail #risk of rain 2 #terraria #personal thoughts

[sophieswundergarten]

Chapter 20 of S.O.S.

I don't even know anymore

@nobodysdaydreams Here ya go

ALRIGHT LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I AM BOTH EXCITED AND TERRIFIED

WHOOOO!!!!!!!!!

First off, love the title, and it’s making me a little nervous because now I’m thinking about Chapter 1 being titled “The Price of Admission”

Oh dear. The way you describe the feeling and emotions and just overall sensations of what Constance is experiencing is already punching me in the heart

(Though the intro bit with Jeffer was quite funny)

THEY BOTH THINK IT’S LIKE WHEN THEY WERE KIDS. BUT THE ONLY THING STOPPING THAT FROM BEING REAL IS THAT NEITHER OF THEM LIKE THEMSELVES ENOUGH TO BE HONEST AND VULNERABLE. UNBELIEVABLE. I AM ALREADY CHEWING DRYWALL. MASTICATING.

Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh

You added to it. He hasn’t forgotten that Nathaniel is hurting people, he just thinks that he finally got through to him. Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh :( 

“The whole world felt so sunny. So vibrant. So full of humor and amusement. Had it always been this whimsically delightful? It must have been, but Nicholas felt as if he was seeing it for the first time. There was beauty everywhere. There was happiness everywhere. Nothing was too loud, nothing was too overwhelming, nothing was too anxiety provoking. For the first time in Nicholas’ life, everything in the world felt “just right”, and it was completely effortless.”

THIS IS A REALLY WELL-WRITTEN PARAGRAPH. BUT IT’S HORRIBLY JARRING BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I ALSO FEEL AS “JUST RIGHT”, AND I ALREADY KNOW IT’S BAD. I WOULD FALL FOR THIS SO EASILY OH MY WORD ASFJDSJKFDKJ

“His friends might have left him, but he finally had his brother back. Perhaps they really could work together like they used to. It had been so long.”

BODS CAN YOU HOLD BACK FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS???? I AM WRITING OMINOUS STICKY NOTES AND PLACING THEM ON EVERY MIRROR YOU HAVE

OH. THAT’S WHY THERE’S A HYPHEN IN THE TITLE. ADSKJFDSHKJDSKJF

CONSIDER ANY STRING YOU OWN CONFISCATED

And you’re still calling him “Curtain”. He’s still calling himself “Curtain”. He doesn’t think he (deserves) is that name anymore. And yet he calls himself “Nathaniel” in Chapter 1. Hmmmmm

Also. Calling the fact that he “allows” Nicholas to call him his given name as a “luxury” is hysterical and very on-point. You are so, so good at writing Curtain :) 

AHHHHHHH. THE CONFLICT IN POOR NICHOLAS’ BRAIN ABOUT HIS VARIOUS FAMILY MEMBERS

And then also Curtain continuing to not get it. Good gravy, man. PLEASE remember how to be a human being soon. You are hurting yourself so much :( 

(And. Also. Like. Several thousand people, not least your own brother. But, still.)

NUMBER TWO!!!!!

Oh heavens. I feel very bad for her. But she did escape! (Kinda)

And then Milligan. I want to give him a hug.

YEAH

I LOVE THIS PART. BECAUSE JUST WHEN YOU THINK CHAOS AND STRIFE HAS BEFALLEN THE TEAM THEY GET IT BACK TOGETHER AND IT’S GREAT

“for some reason Milligan took personal offense at the implication that educators were incapable, though he could not explain why”

I LOVE HOW INSTEAD OF DENYING THAT SHE STOLE IT SHE’S JUST LIKE “I paid for it. And I left a beautifully hand-crafted thank you note.” IT DOESN’T MATTER THAT IT WASN’T FOR SALE IN THE FIRST PLACE JASHJJDKJHFD

She really is ready to be part of the team

(Why is one of the bars you have to pass, like, Neutral Good committing of crimes??? Ajsdkjds)

Marlon /derogatory

OH NO

OH NOW IT’S THAT BIT

“I don’t see the problem” And Marlon just decides that it’s fine. I Do Not Like Him

AND HE’S SO MEAN TO JACKSON AND JILLSON

OH BOY. AND YOU’VE BROUGHT BACK THE MARTINA BETRAYAL. I’M SO WORRIED ABOUT THAT. GIVE THESE KIDS A HUG

“Someone’s finally at the wheel and all you can do is naysay,” the officer observed, “You sound like a person who, frankly, would benefit from time in Dr. Curtain’s program. Compulsory or not.”

Oh yikes. There’s the wheel motif again, and also that sounds incredibly threatening. YOU WOULD THINK THIS WOULD TIP HER OFF TO GET OUT OF THERE

There’s something so sad about Rhonda being terrified when Number Two missed the check in and now she’s trying to call Rhonda and no one’s there :( 

Adjfsdjfjdsjk

Miss Perumal trying to corral the children on the farm is a really entertaining mental image

OH. SHE’S TRYING TO CALL HER SISTER.

“You have reached the Two residence. We’re busy and aren’t available now or ever. Don’t expect an answer to your messages and don’t come to our house. We don’t want to buy anything, and we don’t want to meet any new people. Heaven knows you’d only abandon us just like everybody else and would probably try to steal from us too no doubt.” 

“This answering machine is full. Please call back later.”

Yikes. Ajkdfjdsfjkdsf The Two family has some issues

(But very nice job on writing that. It’s incredible)

“Milligan heroically threw his helmet and jacket into the motorbike.”

…“heroically”?

Akjfhjkdfkjds Very good choice of word! It just makes me think of how overdramatic the cinematography got whenever it was focussed on Milligan

FOUND CRIME FAMILY. IT’S OKAY AS LONG AS YOU PAY PEOPLE BACK AND LEAVE THEM NICE NOTES. AKJLFDSJKD

Milligan is amazing

JEFFERS

HE COLLECTS RECEIPTS

I love our sad little guy

Oh no. Oh no. Nicholas’ thoughts are fascinating and you write them really really well but also it always makes me legitimately want to cry

OH YEAH. THEY HAVE THE SAME VOICE. THAT’S PROBABLY SUPER CREEPY

Oh. And Number Two’s all alone now. I know she isn’t really his daughter in the Show, but, still. To be abandoned in such a scary situation…

“He was using addict speech. Saying “I need to stay in my brother’s evil cult, not because of the addictive happiness he gave me, but because it’s crucial to our mission” was just another form of “I need to drink, not because I’m addicted, but because it helps my anxiety and is really better for me if you think about it.” There’s always a justification for anything, so long as your brain is smart enough to think of it and clever enough to trick yourself into believing it. And unfortunately, Number Two knew from experience that Mr. Benedict was very smart and very clever indeed.”

Yeah!! And we get to see another bit of Bods’ psychology brain! I’ve been waiting to see what you had to say about this. So, so many thoughts

And the little snips of what’s going on with Jackson and Jillson. It keeps building in increments, and I really have no idea what it’s going to build to with your writing but I have no doubt it’ll be spectacular

Poor Jeffers adsfjsdjk

He’s trying his best

AND THE WAY THAT THEY ALL CROSS PATHS IN SUCH A WAY THAT THEY JUST MISS ONE ANOTHER

MARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINAMARTINA

I’m glad that the coaches appreciate her, but also understand that she’s working through a whole lot

(If only they knew how much…)

Ah, yes. Stealing, bribery, breaking and entering, fraud, all of those things are totally fine. Underage driving, however? Unacceptable

Garrison is trying her very best. (Unfortunately for her, that’s not good enough for Constance adjsd)

IS SHE REALLY FEELING BAD ABOUT THIS?????

Somehow that’s really sweet because she does care enough to notice things, but also SHE’S A TINY CHILD. IT’S NOT HER FAULT

Oh. Even without her snark, she wouldn’t be comforted by a lot of toys because of the bad memories she has attached to them. She doesn’t trust them :( 

(I bet her family gives her a lot of unusual toys and puzzles, so she can view it as a challenge instead of being uncomfortable)

YOU DID THE THING AGAIN!!!!! YOU DID THE THING AND BROUGHT BACK THE SCENE WHERE THEY WERE ALL TALKING AND PLANNING!!!! I LOVE IT AND IT’S ALSO HEARTBREAKING. OH MY WORD THIS IS AWFUL AND I LOVE YOU

Oh good gravy. MILLIGAN.

The lot of them need to stop taking all the guilt in the world onto themselves. They are all so ridiculous

GARRISON NEEDS SOME HELP. IT’S NOT HER FAULT SHE’S VIOLENTLY UNCOMFORTABLY WITH CHILDREN

(Although I’d hazard a guess that her discomfort was seriously exacerbated after SQ’s parents died…)

“You need to choose better friends,” Constance suggested.”

YOU HAVE FORFEITED ALL RIGHTS TO YOUR CURTAIN RODS. I AM TAKING A SEAM RIPPER TO ALL OF YOUR PANT HEMS. YOUR WINDOWS HAVE BEEN HAPHAZARDLY COVERED IN BUTCHER’S PAPER AND SLOPPILY APPLIED DUCT TAPE

“Garrison frowned again. Kidnapping aside, there was no need for this child to be so rude.”

Garrison. You really would benefit from talking to another human being now and again (Or not have wiped your best years of social interactions from your brain)

““The ghost in the windmill. The dancer in the dark. You found a flaw,” said Garrison, spitting out the word “flaw” like it was filled with poison. “One that has kept me up every single night since and one that I can’t seem to replicate.””

HOW DO YOU WRITE SO PRETTY

AND ON TOP OF BEING REALLY FUNNY TOO

UM. DID GARRISON ACCIDENTALLY FORGET HER MORALS WHEN SHE STARTED LIVING IN A ROOT CELLAR? IS THIS BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T HAVE CURTAIN ANYMORE? KIND OF LIKE A “He’s so obviously insane that I must be the sane one to keep us on track” ONLY NOW SHE’S ON HER OWN????

Someone give her a hug

Oh, oh PLEASE let Number Two get in a fight with Marlon. She’d beat him so hard. And he’d deserve it

“Everyone barged into his office sooner or later to demand an explanation for things, and even if Curtain had not gotten better and better at correctly estimating one’s breaking point, the security cameras he installed around the compound certainly helped.”

SDFKJDjkdsfkjdj BODS

Also, Curtain, buddy, if you’re the common denominator in all these instances of people bursting into your office then maybe you might be the problem

“By “thing” you mean relieving him of the constant grip of existential angst?” Oh yeah, I would fall for this whole cult thing so very fast. I’m already a goner

YEAH. YEAH, CURTAIN, IT’S KIND OF WEIRD THAT YOU GUYS SEEK OUT SIMILAR FRIENDS. IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU’RE SIBLINGS. AND YOU MISS EACH OTHER.

She’s so incredibly angry and scared and hurting and just  a tornado of emotions

And then Curtain’s just kinda. Sitting there. Placidly. (I would have snapped and punched him by now)

YOU BROUGHT BACK HER BOOK NAME!!!!!! I love you

SCREAMING SCREAMING CRYING

CAN YOU STOP TREATING HER LIKE A SUB-PAR GARRISON???? PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD REMEMBER THAT’S SHE’S A REAL HUMAN, YOU BUFFOON!!!!!!

Good job. Steal his plates. He deserves it. (Maybe go after his floorboards next…)

Is… Is Auguste okay? He didn’t ever freeze on-screen, but I am quite concerned about him…

OH MY WORD CURTAIN CAN YOU STOP USING CHILDREN AS CONDUITS I AM GOING TO SCREAM

Oh no….

The panic and turmoil and poor Nicholas is caught in the middle. He’d feel bad even normally, but now everything’s all confused too

“Here, Nicholas wasn’t a burden to his friends”

SCREAMING

I AM TEARING INTO YOUR PILLOWS WITH MY BARE TEETH

LOSING MY MIND

(I’ll sanitise the remains after, I promise)

MARLON IS SO TERRIBLE

And poor Jackson and Jillson are getting a lot more scared…

“He was also very agitated at the idea that Dr. Curtain’s happiness was the cause of this, not only because it put his position in jeopardy, but also because Marlon himself had taken the happiness. Obviously, he wasn’t in danger of succumbing to anything like this (he wasn’t nearly as mentally weak as Sebastian or Paula), but the implication that something like this even could happen to him was a prospect that Marlon found insulting.”

He just keeps getting worse and worse. I am so upset with him. I can’t even like that he’s an intriguing antagonist, he’s just awful. (Although I will concede that you write him incredibly well and I am quite appreciative of how much you make me hate him)

AND GARRISON

I KNOW SHE’S TECHNICALLY A VILLAIN/ANTAGONIST BUT SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE HER

“I hope y'all are ready”???

“I hope y'all are ready”????????

YOU HOPE WE’RE READY?????????

READY FOR WHAT??????? Oh my goodness. I— I just— I have no words. I am screeching. Bods, there are so, so many things that happened in this chapter. I am so shaken up. I feel like my insides were in a blender. It’s so exciting to see all of these plot points and hints and through lines and motifs that you’ve been laying out and I am just over the moon about everything. You have created  a  n o v e l, and it’s gorgeous. I am disintegrating. I can feel my molecules breaking up. I read a book once where a lady cried acidic material and when she started sobbing she just sunk into a hole in the floor and that’s what I’m feeling right now.

I think I need a nap. I don’t have any idea how to articulate this. Just know that you’ve done amazingly. Just. You are absolutely incredible, my friend. I can feel these characters living and breathing in the letterings and you somehow make it new and fresh material every time, no matter the fact that I’ve seen the show or how often I’ve reread your work. Each of the characters takes on such a vibrancy of life and independence under your guidance, and I adore getting to “meet” them and learn how they work in your narrative. Just stupendous

#Whooo #No clue what is even happening anymore #But I am so incredibly happy that I got on this in the beginning #Because I think I would have been overwhelmed if I had come across it now #And that would have taken me much much longer #s.o.s.

[ijwrff]

Hi, i was wondering if i could request a Natemare x reader with the prompts:

Angst:

8

19

20

Fluff:

6

7

10

11

18

19

21

22

24

I understand if its too much or something but i was thinking, Mare gets into a bad place mentally or something happens to the reader (or both?) and starts questioning if the reader (femme pronouns please) actually loves him but she shows that she does and they fall back together after some mutual pining? (Im a sucker for mutual pining and just falling so completely in love with someone) ty ty ^-^

Also protective and cuddly Mare has my WHOLE entire heart, hes so PRECIOUS

Ty ty ^-^

~ ^-^ anon

So there were a lot of prompts here XD I couldn't figure out how to get Mare to say them ALL so some of them, you say to him. Prompts are also super out of order, to form a more coherent story. I have also bolded all the quotes so you know when and where those prompts are :3

Thank you so much for requesting, I'm sorry it took so long to get around to >.> But I hope it was worth the wait!

Tw; angst and some swearing but it all turns into fluff

For some reason…Mare was acting differently. You’d been together for months, and were friends for even longer before that. You couldn’t explain it, but he seemed…empty. He smiled, yes. But it never reached his eyes. When you would go in for a hug, he’d stop you. He wouldn’t even kiss you! That was the biggest key in that something was horribly wrong. 

He was who knows where, and you were sitting at home trying to think of what to do. It had been a couple days since you saw him, and not so much as a text. You’d been hiding away in your home, wondering if you did something wrong. You wanted to help him if he was struggling, but you couldn’t if he didn’t tell you why he’s been so distraught. 

Deciding to send a text, you made up your mind and took a few minutes to figure out what you wanted to say. ‘Hey Mare…you know you can tell me anything right? Are you okay? It’s been days…I’m worried about you.” It was simple, but maybe he was just stressed? You hoped he’d be alright, but if anything you wanted to be there for him. 

Throughout the day, you sent him a couple more texts. All met with silence. Something was definitely up, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it. Even after a few calls, you were met with nothing each time. One last time ‘If you’re busy that’s fine…but I know something’s wrong. Please talk to me?” You almost wanted to cry, not out of your own sadness. But out of love. Because the one who had your heart was going through something big and you didn’t know what. 

Your phone buzzed, and you quickly checked to see it was Mare. However…it wasn’t his usual dorky or even flirty self. He usually sent you paragraphs at a time, and several messages at once. This one was short and cold. 

‘Stop texting me.’ 

You were baffled. Thoughts flooded and you worried about every possible thing that could be wrong. Did you do something? Something to make him this upset? But…everything was so good a couple days ago. Before he practically ghosted you out of nowhere. This was so random, you couldn’t even think of anything that might have made him upset. It was only more worrisome. 

‘You make it sound like I don’t care…But I love you.” Was the response you sent. Maybe your words would help him, and make him realize you’d always be there for him. His response was instant. As if he’d been waiting to say those words. 

‘No you don’t! Stop the fucking mind games!’ 

This time you really did cry. He was being so harsh, but why? A deep breath and you stopped your tears. Crying wouldn’t help in this situation. You had to get to the bottom of this. If you could help even a tiny bit, it’d be worth it. 

‘Come over. Talk to me. We need to figure this out.’ Was what you sent. You didn’t know if he’d read it. Given how cruel his words sounded, you half believed he was completely done with you. You didn’t want to think that way, but your overthinking brain couldn’t come up with other possibilities. Just thinking of the worst scenario. 

However only moments later, a familiar wave of smoke passed through your room’s door. Then Mare was standing in front of you with an expression on his face that can’t be described as anything but hateful. It made you recoil back, but you knew sometimes he needed some tough love. So you tried to look tougher than you felt. 

“Well? What?” He almost growled, but he reeled himself back a bit. “What do you want?” There was venom laced in his words, and you started to become even more confused. 

“What’s wrong? You’re being hateful and I don’t understand why…if I did something wrong please tell me.” Your eyes were filled with concern, but that only seemed to make him angrier. 

He started to reach out, but he stopped himself. “It sucks because as much as I want to hate you…” He looked away, and went from looking angry to defeated. He looked at you after several seconds and finished, “I can’t.” He approached you this time, and pulled you close. 

He buried his face in your neck and sighed. “No one’s ever made me feel this way before…” He pulled back and put his forehead against yours. His look was finally back to something aside from anger. “It…scares me.” Mare confessed, and wrapped his arms around you. “Everyone expects so little from me and thinks I’m worthless, but you make me want to prove them different. Show them they’re wrong.” 

You hugged him, and kissed his nose. He did the adorable thing he always did, and wiggled his nose a bit at the action. “You already are so much bigger than the people who say you’re less…you’re kind, you care about the world and the people in it. Well…most of them.” You winked to try and lighten the mood and he let out a chuckle. 

He looked terrified after he laughed and he pulled back. “I…I shouldn’t have said all that. Shit…SHIT!” Mare wasn’t used to opening up about insecurities in any way, and a lot of people would believe he didn’t have any. You knew different, you always have. “I…have to go.” He turned around, but you reached out faster and grabbed his hand. 

“Stay…please?” It almost sounded like a whine, but you didn’t care. You needed him here with you. “I missed you…I want to talk. Help you figure out anything you can. And let you know I’m here for you no matter what. Anything you’re going through…we’ll get through…together.” When he turned back towards you he was met with the kind smile he loved to see on your face. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” He tried to hide it, but tears welled up in his eyes. “I can’t provide for you like I want to…I’m practically useless to you. You should expect better from me, and you deserve that but I…can’t help it.” Without even realizing it, he squeezed your hand back tightly. He was so scared to let you go. “I don’t deserve to love you.” 

You tilted your head, and smiled at him, guiding him to look into your eyes. “Why can’t you love me with no strings attached?” He looked shocked and you continued, “Without expectations. Without guilt, or worry, or insecurities. If I say I love you…and you love me…fuck the world. We have each other. Forget all the bad shit they say about you, and listen to your heart.” You gained a small bashful smile, “If your heart wants me then that’s all that matters.” 

He looked away again, only to be guided back to you, “There’s better people out there…I love you so fucking much, but I don’t get how you can love me. I can’t offer anything-” Mare started when you cut him off. 

“I don’t care. I love you and only you.” You held both his hands, and looked at him with determination in your eyes. “I don’t believe that there’s better people. You think you don’t offer me anything? Happiness. Something most important to almost everyone out there. You make me happy. More than anyone else in the world.” At his soft gaze, you smiled. It was the kind of smile that made him want to smile too. 

So he did, and he responded in a whisper, “I’ll never get tired of seeing you. Everything you do…I love it. You’re my everything. My world.” He meant every word, he felt almost silly for having such a mental spiral, knowing it could have been prevented had he just got over his pride and talked with you. He should have known better, but it seemed like his fatigue was starting to show. 

He sighed, and looked away from you briefly only to return his gaze. Mare almost shuffled in his spot, and decided to pull you into that deep and warm hug that he always did. Without meaning to at all, he yawned into your shoulder. You did notice him looking tired, but figured whatever was bothering him was keeping him awake. Now that you knew, you giggled softly and pulled back. He whined, and pouted at you once he could see your face. 

“Tired?” It was technically a question, but sounded a whole lot more like a statement. “Haven’t been able to sleep?” You looked at him sympathetically and cradled his cheek with your hand and rubbed under his eyes where the dark bags had formed. It was impossible to hide your worry, but it was far overshadowed by the care and love that was directed right at this man you loved. 

He leaned into your hand, and nuzzled it lightly as he shut his eyes. “I…sleep better when you’re in my arms.” It was a confession of sorts, and you knew it could be terrifying to say. Sometimes he was scared to make confessions that would make him look “weak” when he was already being vulnerable. 

You weren’t going to make him ever feel bad for confiding in you, so you grabbed his hand and led him towards the bedroom. He followed, and you wordlessly laid down with Mare. He pulled the blankets over you both, and let out an adorable yawn. He snuggled in close to you, and you heard him let out a big sigh of contentment. “I can’t believe…you actually want me.” It wasn’t in a negative or sad tone, he was just making a statement at this point. 

“Mare…you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I’ll be here for and with you, through everything. I mean it.” You leaned more against him, and pressed kisses across his arms as they wrapped around you. “I’ll prove it to you…over time. But for now…you need some sleep.” You giggled, as you held each other as close as you possibly could. 

It wasn’t long before you were almost asleep, yourself. It was just so comforting to be in his arms again. Though after a moment, he leaned close to your ear and whispered, “Thank you for never giving up on me.” You weren’t sure if he was intending to say that while you were awake or not, but it didn’t matter. Either way, you heard it. 

“I won’t give up on you. Not for a million years.” 

@serenitydusk @nerdqueenkat @thattiredanimator1t0mblr @viciouslyyearning

#x reader #fem! reader #natemare x reader #mare x reader #nwtb natemare x reader #nwtb wgos #tw; swearing #angst to fluff #request #^-^ anon

[ginnsbaker]

re: re: the love letter (details)

that quote is so good... but it's true... we're all haters.

hating danny is easy! you're right.. but i think that's why i love his character.. because... he's very obviously... seemingly selfish.. but that makes him human. especially when he tries his best to reason for all of the things that happened. and also the reader! and how you actively.. made them think thru it but selfishly still turned it back onto danny. (read, both danny and reader are human with realistic traits and emotions and i love it. oftentimes people write characters as one sided... so i'm just really glad yours have more dimensions!)

also i definitely don't view danny as an antagonist btw! i don't think anyone could be in such a story like this, but again... s'why i like all the characters so much. they all have their sides to the story. he's just is who he is. as the reader i feel like i should dislike him for what he's done though, especially when he asks the reader to.. keep it a secret??

and yes. leigh is. (i'm repeating myself.) selfish- i was gushing to my friends about this fic earlier before i wrote the love letter, i kept.. describing leigh's character in this as... bitter. (using danny, putting on a show for matt's spirit) and mean.. (when she finds out there's more things being kept from her and she lashes out to - anyone and everyone, etcetc.) and well yeah. leigh is just as flawed as danny and the reader, but it’s like you wrote “Her... directness is refreshing. In a world full of people trying to sugarcoat everything, Leigh just says it like it is. And yes, it can come off a bit strong, but there's something genuine about it. — Formidable.” and ahhh i could pick apart the little things you wrote for paragraphs and why it scratches my brain so good but alas.

long response, stort reply; i don’t hate danny. hate was too strong of a word. danny is human, so is leigh. and we’re all guilty to being selfish at some points in our lives, whether we like to admit it or not.

and honestly, i felt a little silly after submitting the long ask, but i’m glad you had a positive reaction to it. (plus!! you tagged it as a love letter— i know i called it that on a whim, but it made my heart flutter when you tagged it as such.)

thank you for taking time to read my words and respond to them! i also figure.. i’ll be back in this inbox with more love letters when the next chapter comes… so maybe i can claim an anon spot…?

Yes, exactly. I think he needs to do more growing up. I've been around enough to realize that men mature more slowly than women. which is explains why im so appalled by men my age and younger lol

him asking reader to keep it a secret was him not seeing that leigh has become important to reader, or that their relationship is, while still on an acquaintance-level, is layered with something magnetic.

i think when i wrote leigh, just piled on how the show wrote her. they did an incredible job on her. and i was also sourcing my from own experience with this girl i used to like.. who isn't the most pleasant person to be with and kind of aloof and standoffish. and that's what made her so charming to me. so im glad you're noticing that leigh's imperfection is actually her attractive trait.

I'm sorry if it took a bit longer to reply to this one, i was just working the whole day and working on chapter 7. so i set aside specific times of the day to check out tumblr and reply to asks :)

once again, thank you for your thoughts. keep them long, i love reading feedback no matter the length :D

#anon #if i bleed asks

[loelett]

Akasha, Marius, Daniel, Riccardo, David

Daniel- he's quirky, he's insane, he's fucked uP!!!!! i love him i love what he stands for! although i stand by what i said before i am kind of turning around on him being a vampire. as long as he's insane and maybe hates being a vampire a little. his entire thing in qotd was sooo good and the highlight of the book. i'd like to see him and louis talk!! honestly maybe they do i haven't read past totbt lols. also he's in lesbian love with armand thanks ray

Akasha- i like her more than the other guys but i also don't love what she stands for hahaaa. i don't like that the origin of vampires are explained tbh. i think the mystery shrouding the whole thing is kind of what made vampirism feel more like a curse than a fun cool thing that can just happen to you. the unexplainable is scary and vampires are supposed to be scary!! sorry if this is a hot take... i do love women though so 10/10 for being a woman. i think her obsession with lestat is kinda funny like he is literally just some guy. based. i think i only like her as a concept, as in something to drive lestat more towards losing his 'humanity' which is kinda interesting. i also liked the debate at the end of qotd where people had to convince her not to murder the men lol

Riccardo- i don't actually know who this is but he's probably better than the last 2 guys so. i think he is friends with armand? was he the guy from tva who he was buddies with sorry i forget. i'll get back to this if i remember sorry

DAVID TALBOT!!!!!!- I HATE DAVID TALBOT I HATE HIM. I HATE HIM. DAVID TAL BOT. i actually thought he was cool at the end of qotd and enjoyed him and then EVERYTHING ELSE HAPPENED i cannot stand him. all i remember is skimming all of his text at the end of totbt. and also hating him when i skimmed merrick. he should have stayed human. why is ar allergic to letting some people stay human? cringe lestat moment for turning him because now he's immortal and people have to be in his presence

Marius- L for tva and L for the 500 monologues he gave in tvl that i could not care less about. i got to his backstory monologue (audiobook) when i was driving home from college. the drive is 2 1/2 hours and it took up that entire ride. the entire time i was so miserable he ruined my life. i don't really have much opinion on the discourse for him because i am just not really interested in his character (reasoning: monologue) so i'm not the one to go to for opinions on marius. BITCH STOP INFODUMPING I DONT CARE!!!!!!!!!! he could have explained that shit in like 2 paragraphs and saved so much time. sorry

#this one is more negative sorry #i've been holding onto these feelings for so many months #vc #loelett saying things #asks!

[lizzie-bennetdarcy]

3 & 4 for the meta asks, my love? 🥰

Hello, my love!!! 😘 (sharing these in opposite order for Reasons)

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I'll be honest, I don't write a lot that I'm just like, "yes, that's it".

Because recency bias, I'll say I really enjoyed getting to this point in the first rwrb fic I posted because I really enjoyed making Alex casually be like, "fuck it, we're doing this".

"Cool, cool." Alex nods, and pauses, considering. "So. Did I tell you that I'm in love with you?"

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Sooo I kind of have one? It's actually the scene that made me decide I was going to write an SC Romeo and Juliet au that I never actually finished. Snippet under the cut

It's late when Patrick pulls up to the Rose family mansion. David isn't waiting out front, which is concerning. Patrick would rather not have to knock on the door and alert the whole house to their plans. Patrick coming here is risky enough as it is. Patrick is getting ready to call David when the door opens and a lanky figure saunters out. Patrick doesn't need to see his face to know that it's Sebastien Raine. What the fuck is he doing here? Patrick's thoughts are buzzing when he throws open the car door and stalks over Sebastien to ask him exactly that: "Sebastien. What the fuck do you think you are doing here?" "Peter, how noble of you to defend David's honor after he has made it so very clear that you're no longer wanted." His smile is cold, and it doesn't reach his eyes. Patrick has always thought Sebastien has dead eyes, and he has to suppress a shiver when his own meet them. Patrick rolls his eyes, and chooses to ignore Sebastien calling him Peter. "Whatever play you think you've got going on, don't bother. I don't have time for this." Patrick starts to push past Sebastien to go check on David because clearly something is wrong if Sebastien Fucking Raine is here. Sebastien catches his arm, and he can feel his long fingernails digging into his skin even through his shirt. "Let. Go. Of. Me." Patrick has never thought of himself as a violent person, but he's considering making an exception. "Don't you understand? He doesn't want you. He never wanted you. He and I are meant to be." He strokes his hand down the side of Patrick's face and Patrick might vomit. "I had to convince him to let me come down here and end things with you. David didn't want to bother at all." Sebastien smirks. "In fact, it took some thorough convincing on my part to even get David to let me leave his bed." He knows it's not true, it can't be true, but the thought of Sebastien touching David fills him with a white hot rage and the next thing he hears is the snap as his fist connects with Sebastien's nose. "How fucking dare you act like you ever cared about him. Act like you have the right to touch him, like you could ever know him like I do. Like he let me know him. Get out of my way." He shoves past Sebastien and walks to the front door. "Ohh, Peter," Sebastien attempts a sing-songy voice, but it's muffled by the blood still pouring out his nose. "I think you'll want to read this first." He pulls out a crumpled paper from his pocket and holds it out. Patrick snatches the paper and reads, a sick feeling settling in his gut. I only have one thing to say to you: fuck you. I never loved you, I realize now that I only pretended to. I could never love someone like you. I wish you had never walked into my life. David Patrick's head is spinning, his breaths coming out in shirt pants. "No. No, this can't be real. What did you do to him?" he shouts at Sebastien. "He's done with you," Sebastien spits. "Check your phone if you don't believe me." With shaking hands, Patrick pulls his phone from his front pocket and reads two words that wreck his whole world. Goodbye, Patrick.

#thank you my love 😘😘😘 #ask games #meta asks for fic writers