#because i exceeded my post limit the day before

[bro-atz]

friends to lovers to strangers [trope — hongjoong]

inspired by: periwinkle — short story + genesis — smau by @songmingisthighs

word count: 3.3k

content: angst, smut, kitchen sex, gradual heartbreak, ofc joong chooses his career over you, completely consensual (sex)!

author's note: periwinkle was a short story i wrote for my ex-best friend many years ago... i have no idea if this is just as devastating, but i tried my best to make it as heartbreaking as periwinkle. if you ever wanna read periwinkle, lmk and i might just post it here

trope masterlist

It wasn’t romantic at first. It was very friendly. You met Hongjoong at one of your friend’s parties— Mingi loved celebrating the randomest things, and you usually avoided his parties due to said randomness, but you finally went, and that was when you met Hongjoong.

He was very different from what you were expecting. Well, you didn’t know that you were going to meet him that day, but based off Mingi’s personality (and the personalities of a lot of his friends), Hongjoong was the oddest one out. He was calm, collected, watched his limits while drinking instead of downing everything in sight, and he was a lot of fun to talk to.

The first night you met him, you spent a lot of time just trash-talking Mingi and his friends. You didn’t hate them, per se, but it was so easy to make fun of their dumbass decisions, and just reminiscing and sharing stories about them was a lot of fun. Honestly, if it weren’t for Hongjoong, you probably would have never gone to another one of Mingi’s parties.

You and Hongjoong bonded fast. Granted, you only ever talked to him when you met him at parties, but you spent a lot of the time at those parties together. You would drink, share stories about your childhood, and he would drink and tell you thing about his brother, who you grew to like just by hearing those stories of his.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you prodded Hongjoong’s shoulder one night when you were particularly tipsy. “You have my number, right?”

“Yeah, I do. What about it?”

“Why don’t you ever text me to hang out? I feel like it’d be fun to talk during the day, too,” you pouted.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I was waiting for you to text first,” Hongjoong couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s easier to work around your schedule since you work that nine to five as an HR associate—”

“HR director now, actually! I got promoted.”

“Wow! Congratulations,” Hongjoong beamed at you, his gummy smile more of a compliment than his words. “But, see, you’re super dedicated to your job, and my sleep schedule is usually fucked since I spend so much time at the studio—”

“Right! Because you’re a composer,” you said a little too loudly. “Right.”

“But I promise,” Hongjoong took your hand. “Text me, and we’ll make plans during the day.”

“You promise? You promise to actually make plans with me instead of sleep through them like some people?” you asked while nodding your head over to Mingi who was busy doing shots out of the bartender’s belly button.

“I promise.”

Hongjoong stuck to his promise. It was honestly really fucking difficult to make plans with him, but he said he would make it for coffee at least once a week, and that he did. Talking to him during the daytime was a lot more pleasant than you expected. You were a little worried that you enjoyed his company only while you were drunk because you only ever talked to him when you had a couple shots in you, but he proved to be great conversation outside of the party scene as well.

You texted him frequently, asking him if he wanted to go for coffee or watch a movie— anything just to spend time with him. You truly loved spending time with him, and he, you. You had never felt so comfortable with another human being in your entire life before, and every single time you met with him, he just exceeded your expectations further.

“Okay, tell me,” you were on the phone with him trying to make plans. “What movie do you want to see?”

“Sleepless in Seattle,” he responded.

You blinked and frowned. There were many things about his response that threw you for a curve. For one thing, you thought you were going to go to a movie theater; another was that Sleepless in Seattle was an old movie, so the only way you were going to be able to watch that is if you went to his apartment or he came to yours; and the last thing was that Sleepless in Seattle was a romantic comedy, and Hongjoong definitely did not seem to be the type to enjoy movies like that.

“I… Uh,” you cleared your throat. “I have many questions.”

“I’ll be happy to answer them, but it’ll have to be later. I gotta finish this up real quick. Just come to my place by seven, okay?”

You could barely accept his conditions before he hung up abruptly. Sleepless in Seattle in Hongjoong’s apartment it was.

Honestly, his choice of movie was enough for you to get a hint of what he was trying to say to you, but you doubted it slightly when you saw him paying so much attention to the soundtrack, only for those doubts to vanish when he silently moved closer to you, his shoulder pressing against yours as you both pretended to focus on the movie.

“Hey, Y/N, I was curious…” Hongjoong whispered. “Have you ever thought about... You know… How comfortable our friendship is?”

“I mean, I do sometimes,” you admitted.

“And… Do you ever wonder…”

You turned your head and made eye contact with him. Honestly, you never really got a good look at Hongjoong’s face until right then and there. His eyes were slightly widened as he looked at you, and his lips were parted ever-so-slightly to the point where you could catch a brief glimpse of his beautiful teeth— and, God, his perfectly shaped nose. You felt your chest tighten the longer you looked at him, all of the words in your vocabulary getting caught up in the traffic jam in your chest.

Neither of you uttered a word. The credits rolled in the background as your lips pressed against Hongjoong’s gently, his hand slowly reaching up to brush your hair away from your face and tuck the strays behind your ear. He kissed you slowly but sensually, the feeling of his lips encompassing yours making your entire body warm up with what you could only describe as affection.

It was safe to say that your friendship was pretty much shot to hell after that kiss, but it didn’t matter since you found a lover in your friend. People always said to find a friend in your lover, but the other way around was just as good from what you could tell.

“Okay, so for dinner,” you started explaining as you stood in Hongjoong’s kitchen. “I was thinking either pasta or chicken.”

“What about chicken pasta?” Hongjoong asked as he entered his kitchen and stood alongside you, the two of you staring into the refrigerator at the groceries he had left.

“Sure, we can do that,” you mused out loud as you thought about different ways you could pair the two.

“Yay,” Hongjoong cheered quietly before hugging you from behind. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

Hongjoong rocked you back and forth as he continued to embrace you before swaying side to side. You held onto Hongjoong’s arms and closed your eyes as you let him guide this music-less dance. He spun you around and held you as he continued to move around the kitchen and hum a pretty little melody.

He stopped hugging you, his hands immediately searching for yours. He held your hands and began dancing properly with you, the melody from his soul getting louder. He didn’t sing any lyrics, just the tune of the song— a song he was most likely composing. The smile on your face only got wider as you looked at Hongjoong and his cheesy, beautiful grin, little giggles and sighs dissipating in the romantic atmosphere in the kitchen.

Spontaneity was Hongjoong’s favorite thing, which was something you noticed in your friendship with him that only got more intense when you started dating. He loved to whisk you away for romantic date nights, trips to the movies— once, you were craving deep-fried Oreos and mentioned it passively, but he went all the way to your favorite candy shop and got it for you without even batting an eyelash.

And of course, his favorite thing was spontaneous sex.

“Sweetheart,” Hongjoong whispered when the two of you gradually stopped dancing. “Do you want to maybe make dinner later…?”

“Won’t you be hungry after, though?”

“I’m hungry right now,” Hongjoong was quick to answer, his eyes narrowing and his skin slowly reddening.

He grabbed your waist and kept you close to him, his actions still soft, but the intensity in his eyes getting stronger the closer you pressed against him. There was no stopping Hongjoong now. The second you gave Hongjoong a tiny nod, he grabbed your waist and sat you down on the marble dining table.

“Strip, but keep the apron on,” he told you before heading into his bedroom to grab a condom.

You didn’t think Hongjoong had a kitchen sex fantasy, but you weren’t questioning— the look on his face got you all sorts of hot and bothered; so much so that you definitely wanted him more than he wanted you.

Hongjoong returned with the condom on, and the second he stood in front of you, he pushed your shoulder down so that you were laying down on the the surface, your legs dangling off the edge. Hongjoong hovered above you and lifted your apron slightly, his cock barely grazing your clit as he rubbed against the outside of your cunt. Your knees trembled with the feeling, making you hold onto his forearms, your grip on him getting more intense with his every movement.

“Joong,” you sighed out. “I just want you in me already.”

“You and me both, sweetheart, but I don’t want to hurt you,” Hongjoong said, the tip rubbing against your folds a little more vigorously.

Once Hongjoong deemed you wet enough, he pushed into you slowly, your walls stretching slowly, sensually. A pleasureful sigh danced on your lips as Hongjoong’s cock started to give you the relief you needed.

Hongjoong moved his arm out of your grasp so that he could stand upright grab the fabric of your apron and bunch it in his clutches, leaving your breasts exposed as he did so. His hands played with your breasts as he started moving, his waist rolling into yours. He either rubbed circles on your nipples with his thumbs or held your breasts tightly as he kept a steady pace with his thrusts.

You were biting your lower lip and letting out little gasps and sighs the more he explored your body with his hands. The marble of the countertop was starting to heat up under your flaming hot body, sweat starting to cover your forehead and arms. A single drop of sweat rolled down Hongjoong’s temple, and it dropped onto your cheek when he bent over you again, his face near yours as he leaned in close. He had let go of your breasts at that point and held your thighs to push them closer to you, your lower back starting to lift off the countertop and change the angle at which he was thrusting into you.

“Shit, J-Joong,” you stuttered when you felt his cock rub inside you just right, the heat within you starting to build. “Just like that…”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and licked your lips as you looked into his eyes, your lips craving his. Apparently, he read your look correctly because he was kissing you seconds later, a slight smile appearing on his face the more desperate your kisses became. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and unconsciously began to roll your hips into his, the increased friction bringing you closer to your impending high.

It was when Hongjoong slammed his hips into yours with a force you weren’t anticipating did your body tingle all over. You broke off the kiss and moaned loudly as you came, your legs wrapping around his waist and pressing into him as your pussy convulse and get tighter.

“Sweetheart— Shit— So tight,” Hongjoong hissed.

You for sure thought Hongjoong was going to cum, but instead, he pulled you off the table and spun you around so that your torso was pressed into the cool marble and your legs were barely supporting you as he fucked you from behind.

The feeling of your nipples rubbing against the cool surface and the hot friction inside you made sparks appear every time you blinked, waves of pleasure threatening to swallow you. Hongjoong was holding your ass tightly as he thrust exponentially faster while grunting, his breathing getting shallower.

Without warning, Hongjoong wrapped his arm around you and started circling your clit, overstimulating you like crazy. You flung your head back and cried as you came for the second time, this time Hongjoong coming with you, his own groan overpowering your voice.

You whimpered slightly when you felt Hongjoong pull out, the warmth within you dissipating quickly. You slowly pushed yourself up and watched as Hongjoong took the condom off and threw it away. He returned to you and trapped you against the table, his hands on either side of you and a smile spreading on his face.

“Now, how about dinner?” he asked.

You couldn’t think about dinner— all you could think about was how sexy Hongjoong looked in that moment. His eyes were still filled with lust, and you could see out of the corner of your own eye that his cock was twitching. You kissed him and brought your hand to his dick, your fingers lightly rubbing along his length and making him rock hard all over again.

“Let’s just get food delivered,” you whispered.

“Sounds like a plan,” Hongjoong smiled and kissed you back.

His hands ran through your hair and gripped the roots of your hair as his kiss went from gentle to intense with half a second. The string of intense kisses continued as you wrapped your arms around him, your body pressing into his.

He led you to his bedroom, and the two of you laid on his bed as you continued to kiss, your limbs entangling with each other and the sheets below. A small, happy sigh left the man as he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his smile blissful.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Hongjoong.”

Love doesn’t last. Love isn’t strong enough to keep everything from falling apart, and it’s always the little flaws you come to love at first that end up being the reason you can’t do it anymore.

Except, in the case of Hongjoong, it wasn’t a little flaw— it was a huge, glaring one. You’d know about it since the very beginning because he said it himself: his career was everything to him.

Now that the two of you were older, he was putting more time and energy into his music, which meant he was definitely phoning the relationship in. And you wanted to be understanding of him. His career was truly everything to him, but you should be too. After all, the two of you had been dating for a couple years by that point.

“I know that you were in the studio all day, but send a text wouldn’t kill you!” you said loudly, your frustration start to rise to the surface.

“I told you I get no reception in this new studio, Y/N!”

“You could’ve texted me after you got out!”

“I was driving! You want me to text and drive?!”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“That’s what it sounds like to me.”

You huffed and ran your fingers through your hair, your hands starting to tremble with emotion. You tried your best to rationalize your thoughts, but when you were angry, there was no stopping revealing how you actually felt.

“Do you even care for me, Hongjoong? It seems like all you care about is sitting in the studio and rotting away.”

“Hey, you knew this about me. My career is everything,” Hongjoong’s voice got harder, and you could sense a little resentment in his voice.

“What about me, then? What am I to you?”

“You’re someone I love.”

“Love isn’t enough sometimes, Hongjoong. I don’t just need a bread winner. I need a companion or a friend or literally anything else to keep me company. I’m tired of waking up in an empty bed and going to sleep in an empty bed!”

Hongjoong went silent, and you continued.

“I’m tired of being lonely, Hongjoong. I’m tired of waiting for a text back from you. I’m tired of being neglected… Tell me honestly. Are you even in the studio, or are you out with someone else?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m asking you if there’s someone else in your life, Hongjoong.”

“That is beyond the line, Y/N. Being upset with me for dedicating my life to my career is one thing, but insinuating that I’m not actually working and spending time with another person is too far.”

“You seem to be defending yourself pretty hard there.”

“How fucking hard should I be defending myself then?! If I don’t say enough, then you accuse me, and if I say too much, then you still accuse me! This mentality— This is toxic.”

“What?!”

“This is toxic! You’re accusing me of cheating on you just because I’ve been acting the same way I’ve been acting since we first met!”

“You used to text me way more back in the past because if you were texting me the in the past the same way you’re texting me now, then this would’ve never happened.”

Then, you stopped. You changed. You changed. You lost sight of yourself in this relationship, and you forgot that you, too, were a career person, but you put your own life on the back burner for a man. You were a stranger to yourself.

“Y/N?”

“I… I need some time to myself. Just… Leave me alone for a bit, okay?”

Those were the last words you ever said to him. You texted him occasionally to check in on him, but he was still horrible at responding, and after some time, you dropped it. It was over. Neither of you had to officially declare it, but you both knew that it was over.

You focused on your career. While you were dating Hongjoong, you were kind of standing still in your career as an HR coordinator, not really looking to move up the ladder. After you broke up, though, you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into your job, and after about five years, you were up for a VP position. You had bounced between different companies over those years, and finally, you landed that position at a talent agency.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Hongjoong was signed under that talent agency, and you didn’t know that until you started working there.

You were walking through the halls when you saw him standing and chatting to one of the singers under your agency. Your heart sank upon seeing him, and it only got worse from there when you saw their fingers intertwined. His gummy smile which was once yours was now dedicated to the singer in front of him, and eyes sparkled. Your heart officially hit the ground when you saw him glance in your direction, that sparkle immediately vanishing.

Neither of you uttered a word. You cleared your throat and walked past with your head held high, and right before you rounded the corner, you looked behind you to see if he was looking at you, but no. He was in his own world with his new girl.

You were not only a stranger to yourself, but you had become one to him as well.

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trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower @yunhogrippers @oreoqueen @xhexy

network: @cromernet

apply for the taglist here!

#Spotify #ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong ateez #hongjoong ateez #kim hongjoong smut #broatz #trope ateez #trope series #ateez smut #ateez angst #hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong angst #cromernet

[sophietv]

Kaylor Timeline BEFORE VSFS 2013

It's a thread I did on my Twitter that I'll transfer here.

Once again, I used amazing Tumblr posts to do it. So I'll credit them as we go (If I need to do something else tell me, I'm new to the Tumblr etiquette).

So the official story is that Taylor and Karlie crossed path a couple of times without interacting and met for the first time at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2013 🤔

Well they met A LOT of times and interacted before actually 😅

Let's see the Timeline before that VSFS in 2013!

***I'll edit this post as I find new interactions (because I feel like I'll find a lot of them) I'll add this 🆕 beside new additions and dates when it was added at the end of the post.

First meeting!

So what motivated my thread in the first place is this Interview Taylor did in 2014 with Andrew Bevan of Teen Vogue.

Here's the YouTube Link (X)

But here's the most important part of that interview:

He is saying that he introduced Karlie and Emma Stone to Taylor!!

Ok we know that Taylor met Emma at the 2008 Young Hollywood Award.

I don't think though that he is talking about that event. Because he says that he congratulated her for her cover.

Taylor did two covers with Teen Vogue, one in 2009 and one in 2011.

Following the Timeline and everything it's most likely the March 2009 one:

EDIT:

Thanks to this Anon! (X)

A magazine cover is planned 2-8 months in advance, up to a year for major celebrities.

The Young Hollywood Award was on late April 2008 and the cover was for March 2009 so it make sense.

So it's most likely that Taylor met karlie for the first time at the same event she met Emma for the first time.

🆕 Really cute fact.

On the Cover of that magazine, Taylor wears a dress from the Calvin Klein Spring 2009 show. (X)

Guess who walked that runway??

Karlie! (X)

I exceeded the limit of picture so click on the (X) to see the posts.

Tommy Hilfiger spring 2010 collection:

Septembre 16th 2009 Taylor attends the Tommy Hilfiger Spring Show during New York Fashion Week. (X)

Karlie was there too! (X)

In this post, you can see videos of Taylor watching Karlie on the runway: (X)

Here's the YouTube video : (X)

🆕Met Gala 2010:

They were both at the Met Gala in 2010

🆕In Milan together

Although they were not at the same Fashion Show (that we know) Taylor and Karlie were in Milan at the same time during the Fashion Week.

Another interesting facts. This could explain the "1958" reference of Timeless:

Thanks to Izg on Twitter for giving me this!!

Roberto Cavalli 40th Anniversary Party:

Septembre 30th 2010

Taylor and Karlie attends the Roberto Cavalli 40th Anniversary party in Paris.

Met Gala 2011:

May 2nd 2011

Karlie and Taylor both attend the Met Gala:

This is also the first time that we have confirmation of an interaction between them:

Thanks to that amazing post! (X)

Karlie said in Teen Vogue that they joked about having a baking date.

Rodarte Spring 2012 fashion show:

Septembre 13th 2011

Taylor attend Rodarte Spring 2012 fashion show where Karlie walks.

Here's a link to the video (X)

Vogue Febuary 2012:

January 17th 2012

Taylor mentions Karlie in her Vogue interview: "I love Karlie Kloss! I Want to bake cookies with her!"

And this quote, made history.

Karlie answers the same day:

Vogue Fashion's Night Out:

August 2012

Thanks to this post (X)

Taylor and Karlie star in the same commercial about Vogue Fashion Night Out:

Thanks to @hairpinraindrop for the video

Karlie and Taylor were present at the event too on Septembre 6th 2012

Paris 2012:

Septembre 30th 2012

Karlie walks the runway for Jean-Paul Gauthier in Paris:

Taylor is in Paris at the same time to film the Begin Again MV:

Funny Koincidence(?), I went back and watch that MV again, and look at the opening scene!

The Love Lock Bridge!!!

Elie Saab Spring Summer 2013 show:

Octobre 3rd 2012

Taylor is still in Paris and attends The Paris Fashion Week (X) at a fashion show where I'm pretty sure Karlie walked (I'm still searching for photos/videos).

But we know that Karlie was at the Paris Fashion Week too! (Thanks Astra!)

Here's a video:

🆕Met Gala 2013

They were also both at the Met Gala in 2013. Wich was in May.

So there you have it! All of Kaylor interaction BEFORE the 2013 VSFS!

This explains the timing of it all.

Because they allegedly met at the 2013 Victoria Secret Fashion Show in Novembre.

But as we know, Taylor moved to New York because Karlie asked her:

Timestamp 1:23

And people believe that she moved there after their Big Sur trip in March 2014.

Actually. Back in January 2014, Taylor was already looking to buy an appartment near Karlie's:

And she actually bought her Tribeca oenthouse in February.

Thanks to Bigsurlor for this!!

So they definitly knew each other before 2013!

Edit August 19 2023: Met Gala 2010, Milan trip together and Met Gala 2013 and the appartment hunting

Edit August 27th 2023: the Calvin Klein Spring 2009 dress section

#gaylor #kaylor #lsk #lgbetty #karlie kloss #taylor swift #timeline #mastermind #invisible string #your past and mine are parallel lines #Youtube

[writingquestionsanswered]

Silly questions, but... for my peace of mind, I have to ask: do you ever get sick of us? I've sent a lot of questions over the course of the time I've followed you, and some days I worry that I annoy you with them. Especially if it's something that's been asked before.

I Love Answering Questions, But...

This question just came in, but I have a few minutes so I wanted to answer really quick...

This question made me laugh (in the BEST way), so thank you! ♥

The short answer is 'no,' I never get sick of the questions or feel annoyed by anyone.

The long answer is this: there are three things that do cause me some frustration, and they are...

1 - People don't read the ask policies before asking questions - At the bottom of almost every post there's a link to my ask policies, which is mainly a list of topics I won't cover for various reasons. Yet you'd be astounded by how many people still ask those questions. I used to re-post redacted versions and dance around the answers, but it just takes time away from questions that follow the rules. So, from now on, I will be outright deleting questions that violate my ask policies.

2 - People don't check the master list of posts - I get a fair amount of questions that could have been answered by a quick spin through my master list of posts. However, I do understand that tumblr mobile is garbage and the master list can be a little daunting, so I don't mind dropping in a few quick links if someone isn't able to find what they're looking for. I just prefer that people take a few minutes to try before sending their question in.

3 - Three-figure word count asks - The day tumblr dropped the word limit on asks was the day my quick turnaround disappeared forever. When there was a limit, people had to be thoughtful about how they worded their questions. They really had to think about what information was the most important, and really put thought into how best to frame their question. Now I get exhaustive plot summaries, truck loads of unnecessary details, the same question phrased six ways in one question... overnight, I got an ask that is over 400 words long. That is roughly two pages in a trade paperback book. Not only do these excessively long questions take me longer to read and think through, but they take me longer to answer because I have to edit them for length and content. So, I do wish more people would take the time to edit themselves when asking their questions.

And now I've exceeded my few extra minutes, but don't worry, that cuts into my own writing time, not question answering time. That's on the schedule for later today, so see you then! Thanks for your question! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

Please allow up to two weeks for a response. ♥

#wqaadvice

[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

[palestineoddiwrth]

Today's Hero is Ezzeddin Lulu, the Smile Maker.

"As a student studying to become a doctor, I made a decision based on the way my father had raised me to always give back to my religion and homeland. I chose to volunteer at Al Shifa Hospital during the war, recognizing that the level of catastrophe exceeded the capacity of the medical staff and hospital alone, leaving my own family behind."

Before the read-more I'd like to show his most recent post as of writing this (29.03.23.) Unfortunately his mother has also been murdered. Ezz was incredibly proud of his mother and so was she in him. She memorised the entirety of the Qur'an and knew it to her dying breath. Despite the horror of losing her family she remained strong both in love and in faith.

Here is a go-fund-me created by Ezzeddin. Even if you can't donate please share it and read his story in his words.

During the genocide, artist and medical student Ezzeddin Lulu (nicknamed the smile maker) has been trapped in al-Shifa hospital in the North of Gaza more than once. He has worked with minimal and no food for days on end in a hospital surrounded by tanks and snipers. He's worked with patients not knowing if he or they will even survive the coming days. He's worked knowing his family could be dead. He's worked knowing the only family he has left is his injured mother. He's worked after standing on the rubble of his home knowing his family is trapped under and there's nothing he can do. He's even worked after the murder of his mother.

He's worked on patients without anaesthetic. He's described to us the harrowing screams of children. He's shown injuries that nobody has really seen until now because the weapons used by the IOF and their allies are horrific and are designed to cause as much pain, death and destruction as possible.

All this as a medical student. Ezzeddin has yet to graduate.

Ezz is also an artist who has been dubbed the "smile-maker". He draws people he sees when he's out and about and whenever he shows them the result they smile. He has also recreated horrifying images and changed them into something good. For example there's a famous picture of a father being dragged away from his daughter by soldiers. Ezzeddin has redrawn this in a scene where the father is hugging his daughter.

Ezzeddin Lulu is a hero. He demonstrates the good in humanity. Despite everything he still works for his patients and he still posts to show the world how the IOF and their supporters target civilians and medical staff. He also posts about his family and colleagues, telling us they've passed away or what injuries they've sustained. Because of Ezz's posts I'm aware that Israeli snipers target the healing hands of doctors.

How is his heroism rewarded?

Trapped in al-Shifa not knowing who (patients, coworkers, family, himself) will live or die and if he'll have to watch. This happened twice because despite everything he is still determined to help people and so he went back to work.

Finally I would like to close this first post by sharing pictures of his martyred family and a little bit about them because they also deserve to be remembered.

Everyone who's been murdered was something to somebody. A mother, a grandpa, a niece, a son, a cousin, an aunt, a friend, a lover. Sometimes people themselves become homes so what happens when that home is ripped from you? Unfortunately there is a 10 picture limit on mobile and I felt it was important to share multiple images of the same people to make sure they're more than just numbers to us. I intend make another post about him in the future so if I do I'll include more of his martyred loved ones to honour them.

Note: Forgive me if there are any errors. I don't speak Arabic so I'm relying on translation apps which means when it comes to peoples names I might make a mistake. If corrected I will fix it ASAP. These people deserved to be remembered with their real names.

Below is Ezzeddin's father: Mister Samir Fahmi Lulu (Abu Hazifa). While Ezz was trapped in al-Shifa he heard news of his fathers martyrdom but there was nothing he could do because the occupation was surrounding the hospital so Ezzeddin continued to work.

Samir Fahim Lulu cared deeply about his son and what his son was going to do. His father always wanted to see his son on his graduation day in his robes and watch him swear his oath as a doctor but the IOF robbed them both of that. Ezzeddin has described his father as his backbone and is the reason he chose to volunteer at al-Shifa during the genocide.

Below is a family within a family. We have Hazifa Samir Lulu who was the oldest son and brother, a father himself, an engineer.

In the middle is their daughter: Reem Hazifa Lulu. Reem was also a niece, granddaughter and a great granddaughter.

Finally there's Rana Maher Al-Ghassin. She was an engineer, a wife, a daughter, a mother. She was pregnant with a baby that would have been so incredibly loved had Rana not been murdered. They were overjoyed when they announced the pregnancy a week before the war.

I wonder if Reem would have become an engineer or if she would have chosen something else. I wonder if Ezzeddin and Hazifa's mother was right about her dream of Rana having twins. I wonder if Reem would have had another Frozen themed birthday or if she would have picked something else. How cruel of a world is it that they'll never know the happiness they deserved?

#ezzeddin lulu #al shifa hospital #palestine #doctors of gaza #free palestine #ezz lulu #free gaza #north gaza #ezz.lulu #cymru am palestina #palestinian resilience #Palestinian doctors

[merakiaes]

TL;DR - I have a lot of fanfiction-garbage and can't decide if it's worth donating in its poorly-edited, not-properly-written state, or if I should just throw it all out and let it rot in a landfill.

So, I have approximately 100k words worth of notes in my phone for fics for Top Gun: Maverick and Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. Like, we aren't even talking full fic skeletons/first drafts, it's just 100k words worth of dialogue snippets and vague and very badly spelled/messily worded outlines that I've thought of at random times throughout my days for the past month or two during which my brain has been in a hyperfixation sort of overdrive.

I'd say there's probably around a hundred separate fic ideas for each of the two fandoms noted above and I oh, so desperately want to post at least a few of them before my very limited hyperfixation span is exceeded, but I haven't written in so long and I'm hesitating because if I were to post one or more fics, they wouldn't be my usual thoroughly thought-out fics. A few longer ones would be a few thousand words at most, but most no more than a thousand or a few hundred, if even that, and I'd spend little to no time working on them beyond the absoloute neccessary (e.g. cleaning up my initial notes and adding some more content for the sake of structure) because I no longer have the energy needed to go into full writing mode and probably never will again. That being said, they'd be quick, sloppy and only meet the bare minimum requirements of even being considered fics - the notes in question look like they were created by someone repeatedly slamming their head on the keyboard so we really are talking bare minimum, with mostly dialogue and very little descriptive filling.

It's been so long since I wrote that I don't know if that's even something that is worth posting. I desperately want to post something because I could really use the lift-up of reconnecting with the fanfic-community, but I've become so damn insecure about my writing and I am totally overthinking it.

So, please, grant an out-of-practice fanfiction-writer some clarity by voting on the poll provided below, so that I can make up my mind on whether or not it is worth it. Honesty is more appreciated than coddling, you will not hurt my meow meow feelings, I promise.

(I might post them, I might not. I just want some clarity in case I decide to do so bc I am a dependent little bitch who needs the opinions of others before I do literally anything in life.)

#using tags related to the unposted fics in question #will delete this post later so it won't be stuck in the tags forever don't worry #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #pete mitchell x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #hangman x reader #maverick x reader #top gun imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #könig x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #philip graves #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #cod mw2 x reader #tf 141 #john mactavish x reader #alejandro x reader

[hansoheeglobal]

Part 1. The reason Han Sohee awaits with trembling heart

Q. The products in this Omega pictorial were chosen in gold colors that suit the Christmas season.

No wonder. Gold is emerging these days. I didn't wear a watch because my wrists were so thin, but I became interested in watches as I became involved with Omega. Especially after Omega gave me a watch that suits me, I started wearing it.

Q. You have really thin wrists.

That's right. If you do this (raises arms), you can't see the strap.(laughs) That's why I often wear them on top of my clothes. Among the watches I wore today, I liked the Constellation gold watch I wore on top of my clothes the most.

Q. That's true, there will be plenty of cars with clothes on. Before coming here, I really enjoyed reading Sohee's blog post. You write really well. Not only was there no inscription, but there were traces of efforts made to make it easier for the reader to understand.

That's...It wasn't easy. Whenever I write a blog, I repeat, "Write and delete", "Write and delete". I write down all the things I want to say, but I delete some because I don't need them and I'm afraid it might be confusing to read. I'm afraid it might be confusing to read neat and compact texts as much as possible.That's because I'm worried that (fans) will get bored if I talk too long. Let’s compete on quality rather than quantity of writing. That's how I feel

Q. It's also a kind attitude toward others.

From this year on, I didn't want my feelings to be passed on to my fans while writing. When I was in trouble, when I was happy, and when I was writing, I wanted my feelings at that time not to be revealed in the writing as much as possible. I want to relieve you as much as possible from worrying about me so you don't have to worry about showing your sad or difficult feelings.

Q. Almost every post has more than 4500 comments. The response has already exceeded the limit of 9900, so the count has stopped. I've never seen such a reactive blog before.

(Laughs) I’ve been doing it for a long time. I started blogging even before I debuted. I still feel more comfortable talking through blogs than through Instagram.

Q. I even thought that the taste of music and movies posted on the blog was similar to me. Mogwai, Fiest, Cooks are the music that indie music fans have listened to among the so-called Generation X. I wonder how you got that taste.

Oh really? Nirvana, Radiohead, and Oasis were the first things that I started listening to music consciously when I was in middle school. It started from there and went as far as Feist and Mogwai.

Q. By the way…I listened to those songs in real time when I was in middle school. When I was in my second year of middle school, the second album of Radiohead was just released as a new album. It's amazing that Sohee and I are more than 10 years apart.

Come to think of it, there weren't that many friends who listened to music similar to mine. I think it was kind of unique. I had a temperament where I purposely didn't listen to other people go wild saying, "Good, good." There's a person like that. I'm a kid who always wears earphones at school and listens to music all day long.(laughs) That was me. I was interested in music when I was in school, but I also drew pictures. But to draw, you have to see a lot of things. I often watched music videos, exhibitions, and movies. I think I watched all the things that I could watch without any hesitation.

Q. No wonder...The latest movie you saw was "I loved you for a long time". I think you go to movie theaters often

That's right. I love going to art movie theaters alone and seeing actual exhibitions. These days, media art is very active, and there are cases where people enjoy works online first rather than seeing actual exhibitions. Still, I tend to go there myself to see the real thing as much as possible.

Q. While watching “I’ve Loved You for a Long Time,” you thought of something.

This is a story outside of movies, but I was worried that the number of people taking on the challenge of making such movies would gradually disappear. As science fiction and blockbuster movies become more and more dominant commercially, I worry that there will be no place for movies like “I’ve Loved You for a Long Time,” which make you feel heartbroken after watching them.

Q. Such stories often come up when interviewing filmmakers

I don't know the answer either. However, you won't be able to make a movie without thinking about consumers.

Q. That's right. What did you like best about the movie?

I loved Juliet's eyes, played by Kristin Scott Thomas. Even if she didn't say anything, the look in her eyes showed all the years she had gone through. Even if she was smiling, it felt like she was crying, and somehow her shadow felt darker than other people's. In fact, it may be a very unfriendly movie for some audiences.

Q. That's right. I can't help but wonder what the hell's wrong with Juliet until the movie is almost over.

But after the story was revealed, my heart was really filled with emotion.

Q. Meanwhile, you also like hip musicians like DPR (Dream Perfect Regime)

That's right. I don't cover it. I just listen and watch everything

Q. But what's interesting is that you can feel the consistency of your tastes in the meantime.

I'm not sure about that either. I know for sure. My taste is firm. But if you ask me what my preference is, I don't know how to tell you. This may seem a bit nonsense, but I like things to be a bit ‘strict’.

Q. It's strict… It’s tough… What does it mean?

This is an abstract expression, but there's something I feel is a bit strict about. If you look at it broadly, it's minor, but that doesn't mean it's really minor. Nirvana, Radiohead, and Oasis were only minor among my peers, but they were actually artists who were at the peak of their era. But I can’t explain my taste in music in words.

Q. To guess what it means to be 'strict', I wonder if you're talking about the works that the makers were serious about.

I can say it's similar. I think it's easier to talk about it in a movie, and I like the movie when I feel crazy about something. For example, there are people who understand every scene logically while watching a movie, but for me, once I experience just one scene so strongly that it seems to pass through my body, I understand the intention of all other scenes. 〈I've Loved You for a Long Time〉 was like that, and Lars von Trier's 〈Melancholia〉 was also that kind of movie. It was a movie that I watched thinking, ‘What on earth are they trying to do?’, but after just one scene passed through me, I knew everything the director was trying to convey. Although I can't put into words what it all means.

Q. Is there a movie you want to recommend among the movies you've watched recently?

Among the ones I saw recently, I really liked “Detachment.” Adrien Brody plays the main character, a teacher. The movie clearly deals with a story about education. Through the eyes of a man and a human being, it shows quite directly how this ‘education’ affects the target person. While watching this movie, I liked the message that ultimately you and I can change depending on education and environment. Ultimately, it expands into a consilient message that I am just like you and you are just like me.

Q. Why haven't I seen the work yet?

Make sure you watch it. It's going to be fun.

Q. Anyway, the long-awaited December has finally arrived. The highly anticipated work ‘Gyeongseong Creature’ will be released soon.

I wish it didn't come. To be honest, my mind is half and half right now. Half of my heart is that I can't wait to see December come, and half of my heart is that I'm so nervous and scared that I wish it wouldn't come.

Q. Do you get this nervous every time a work is released?

No, I don’t think so.

Q. Then...Is it because it's such a masterpiece?

That's not it either. Season 1 of ‘Gyeongseong Creature’ filmed when I was in my 20s. The first season, which was filmed about two years ago, is being released now. So I don't remember anything. I don't remember how I acted that scene, what expression I made, what senior Park Seojoon's acting was like, or even the story. It’s like waking up with amnesia and someone telling you, ‘This is a movie you shot two years ago, and it’s coming out soon.’ I think you'll probably get this kind of reaction when you see it. 'Eh? ‘I filmed this?’ (Laughs) Then you will fall into a state where neither subjective nor objective evaluation can be made. I don’t remember taking the picture, but what anyone can see is ‘me’.

Q. ah… I kind of understood what it felt like.

The only thing I can rely on at this point is the director and Seojoon senior.

Q. Like "D.P." and "Kingdom," there are some works that have been confirmed to produce season 2 before releasing season 1. They're all masterpieces.

Our work has also finished producing season 2, so it will be a masterpiece.

Q. You haven't seen the creators yet, have you?

I didn't see it. Actually, this was my first time standing in front of a green screen and doing chroma key photography. It wasn't easy at first. However, I actually experienced that situations where there were walls instead of people later made me less nervous and my imagination seemed to be more maximized.

Q. Sohee's character, Yoon Chaeok, has a unique job.

yes. She appears as a ‘Todukkun’ who is adept at finding people and never finds anyone she can’t find. It will probably be completely different from what we have shown so far.

Q. You know the fans waited for so long, right? There are so few works that have been released so far.

I know, I know. But there was no way.  I had to shoot all the time. (laughs)

note: rough translation, there may be a lot of translation error.

#han sohee #xeesoxee #hansohee #lee sohee #korean actress #한소희

[raayllum]

Cube Hostage Exchange Theory :: End of Days

Because I like nothing more than to organize things accordingly and my brain needs something to focus on for the final few days before the season drops and we get answers to a lot of questions (or at least, a lot of the questions this theory has attempted to answer over the past two years) I thought, “Hey Dragons, why not do your best to compile and breakdown literally every single piece of evidence there is for Cube Hostage Exchange Theory, just in case you’re right and want something to fondly look back on?” 

(And also because I know I won’t have the same motivation to make this post if I’m wrong, but making this post sounds like fun for one last hurrah for myself and the little CHET posse this theory has, somehow, fondly amassed). 

So here it is. 

My end of days, final presentation of Cube Hostage Exchange Theory (otherwise nicknamed as CHET), all that it encompasses, and all that it could inspire, what’s been added to it over time, and why I think it has a decent shot at being what happens in the S4 finale. As well as a little indulgent walk down history / memory lane for me because I started posting about it two years ago, and I do what I want.

What is CHET?

A theory that proposes the S4 finale / current climax with Claudia, Aaravos and co. will threaten Rayla’s life in order for Callum to hand over the Key of Aaravos, thus allowing him to fully break free of his prison and putting the world at risk as a result, specifically in holding her hostage.

I first posted about it on September 21st, 2020 (a couple weeks after Through The Moon graphic novel got released) as just an idea and then made a proper theory post about a month later on October 26th, 2020. 

It is my little bonbon and I think it is very neat. As you can see, it was an exceeding simple plot structure modelled to be a finale or final 3 episode prediction (4x07-4x09) for the end of the season, with very little speculation of what would happen in the build up to it besides 1) Callum having to learn about Aaravos in order to know what he was risking and 2) Callum and Rayla getting a chance to hash out some of their emotional baggage even if they hadn’t wholly resolved it. 

The original theory post itself touched on some concepts that will be repeated down below, such as the idea that the hostage exchange would ideally 1) not be Rayla and Callum’s first reunion, 2) the series’ intrinsic concept of Exchange, 3) why failure is necessary for Rayla but not a punishment, 4) how her lack of self worth manifests, and perhaps most importantly, 5) how Callum is always instrumental in breaking her cycles.

The theory has since grown to encompass many others as well as a plethora of evidence I stumbled upon, first accidentally and then with a more purposefully keen eye, in terms of foreshadowing, set up, and parallel / cyclical episode structures that TDP loves to utilize and has utilized before. Again, more on that at the bottom.

What made me first think of it?

Simply put, it just seemed the most straight forward route that would also yield the biggest dramatic consequences for character and for story. Post-TTM Rayla was racing right towards Aaravos without even knowing, Callum has something called a Key, Aaravos wants to escape his prison. Thus, it would give Callum a clear hand in how the plot would move forward and fit with some of the more dubious choices he’d made before. I also liked the way it could conceivably offer up a pathway for Rayla and Callum’s emotional arcs; for Rayla, it’d be an unexpected hammer to her own perception of her self and her self worth, for Callum to throw it all on the line even after she’d hurt him so terribly much; for Callum, it would give him space to be angry with Rayla but also room for a good old “Fuck everything else, I just want you to be okay” when it comes to like, offering us a strong reconciliation within the limited emotional time frame of a TV show.

Why Should Rayla Get Saved?

Rayla left in TTM because she thought Callum could handle losing her in ways she couldn’t handle losing him. This fundamentally comes down to Rayla’s self sacrificial tendencies veering into self-destructive behaviour (leaving at all) and her justifications for it being that she isn’t “good enough” to be worth fighting for / loving the way she loves others, as well as deeper issues of survivor’s guilt and possibly not feeling like she quite deserves to live and be loved.

Although I don’t subscribe to the “Rayla left out of pride” lens at all, even under it, Rayla needing to be saved seems like the most logical conclusion, otherwise how is she supposed to learn that she can’t do everything herself? 

Rayla can’t succeed in her quest to stop Viren or to fully protect Callum, lest she think what she did in TTM is “ultimately fine” just because it worked in protecting him successfully. She also can’t single handedly stop the villains only halfway through the show. Therefore, Rayla has to fail, and likely has to fail at protecting Callum by the finale specifically, as that was her worst fear. Since she went to all this effort to protect him, the biggest form of failure would be if he ends up in danger at one point because of her. However, that’s precisely why it has to happen - and why it would also hammer that point in further if he’s also saving her while he does it.

Why Can’t Rayla Just Save Callum? 

More recently there’s been an upswing in theories regarding Rayla being Callum’s guiding light out of his “path of darkness” (Callum’s promo quote) given the way the moon halos her head upon entry, her name meaning, her associations with Truth and the Moon arcanum over Aaravos’ starry deception. It is also more in line with what I thought S4 might be like pre-TTM’s release, with Callum getting in way over his head with something magical and Rayla having to help (alongside Ezran possibly) pull him back from the brink.

The light and dark motif now running more prominently throughout both their arcs is also, funnily enough, something I noticed and wrote a meta about close to five months ago back in June, which you can read the full thing here. It was something I had always appreciated about Callum and Rayla’s framing with one another throughout S1 and particularly S2 with Rayla representing the light. It was something I only started to think more on when I began to compile parallels between Aaravos and Rayla, including their names (“between light and dark” and “ray of light” respectively). 

Thus, I do think Rayla will save Callum emotionally/mentally from Aaravos in some manner at some point in the season, as that’s in line with how she keeps Callum out of his head in S1-S3. However, the other half of that pattern is Callum saving her physically, and that’s why I think the light and darkness motif feeds nicely into what I’ve also penned as the Mutual Salvation Theory originally in August 7th, 2022, before we even knew Rayla would be returning at all.

The question then becomes: well, what is he going to save her from? To a certain degree it’s herself, as laid out in this interview with Devon Giehl (TDP’s head writer) and Michal Schick (a staff writer) regarding Rayla’s letter:

She wants to stay because she’s in love with Callum, she wants to leave because she’s in love with Callum. And I think that’s just kinda like - Rayla’s version of love is, at this point in her life, always gonna hurt someone, including herself. Badly. 

The clearest way for this to manifest is for each of them to get a chance to reaffirm their love for one another and choose each other. Due to the symbolism baked into the trailer and the season promo, it seems pretty clear that at the very least, Rayla will be guiding Callum away from darkness at one point in the season. Thus, what’s left is for him to save her in an equally thematically and plot-driven way - thus proving her previous beliefs wrong, reaffirming his love for her, and pushing the plot along. 

This dual “I save you, you save me” plot line is an add-on to broader CHET, as that would provide Callum’s turn of things. Additionally, I think Rayla saving Callum in “guiding light” way may happen before the finale, with the finale then focusing on him saving her, for one main reason:

The Moon Arcanum

Given that the season will inevitably talk about Callum reconnecting with Rayla and the foreshadowing in previous seasons that the Moon arcanum will be the next one he connects to, it seems like S4 is the most natural place for it. This is only reaffirmed by Callum likely being tempted by Aaravos, a great deceiver, as well as the way he’s obsessed with secrets and denying parts of himself / his feelings already in 4x01, and Rayla representing the Truth, the way she always has been.

If we go along that route, then there’s the question of what would compel Callum to connect to the Moon arcanum, especially if he’s off chasing dark magic somewhat this season. Again, given the thematic and symbolic set up already in store, it will likely be him admitting out loud to himself that he loves Rayla, and always will, thus allowing him to fully see past Aaravos’ deceptions (as far as temptation goes).

However, I do not think, though, that such a triumphant note can be where the season ends. After all, we know this era of the Dragon Prince’s world is known as the Return of Aaravos, and that the Startouch elf must be broken free of his prison by the end of the season. Thus, our heroes have to fail, and I think it needs to go one step further than just failing to stop Aaravos from getting out, but of actively helping him - even if it’s against their will. 

So what would that look like, and why do I think it has to be the transfer of the Cube for Rayla?

The Cube

Paraphrasing posts I’ve made before but:

1) Without the cube being called the Key of Aaravos, it being the key to Aaravos’ prison would feel like it came out of nowhere. However, because of such a specific name, it is many people’s default assumptions and that feels purposeful. After all, if they wanted one or the other kind of associations, they could have said Hand or Eye of Aaravos, or Key of mystical sounding name here, but they specifically chose to put those associations together. The show loves to be cryptic and straightforward all at once, with warnings like “Draw your last breath” (3x07) being instructions to literally draw a breathing rune

2) One of the reasons I think the cube is related to Aaravos’ prison is precisely because it was entrusted to Callum by Harrow, the two characters most concerned thematically with the theme of Freedom through both their speeches, actions (Callum shattering the primal stone to free Zym, Callum ending Rayla’s cycles) and most notably his arcanum of the Sky. So you have Callum, who is tethered to the theme of Freedom, with a Key in his possession, Aaravos having some idea of how to get himself out of his prison if his machinations / guidance of Claudia and Viren are any clue, and Aaravos, who wants to be free of his mirror prison more than anything. 

Larger meta post here as well as some very cool similarities the Key could have to the Egyptian myth of Thoth, god of knowledge, presenting a Key of Life to Osiris, god of the underworld. 

3) The Key has been associated specifically with Rayla and her relationship to Callum above anyone else since the beginning of the series. Their first real bonding moment is her agreeing to go get it from the Banther Lodge, she risks her life to do so, and is routinely the other character (sometimes swapped in or sharing that role with Bait) that Callum discusses the cube with. Then there’s also the fact that ties into one of Callum’s consistent aspects of seeing worth in things Rayla doesn’t: appreciating Xadia’s magical nature with fresh eyes (1x05), seeing worth in the Cube (1x04, 1x05), and indeed, Rayla herself (1x05, 3x04). Rayla’s language surrounding the key is also very interesting, but we’ll talk about more of that in the next point, which is:

4) Back in early December 2021, I made a post documenting what I’d noticed of the consistent way the Cube was referred to as a game piece or Aaravos playing a game. (Just for frame of reference, this was almost precisely 6-7 months prior to Aaravos holding Viren like a game piece in the SDCC intro trailer). 

Also keep in mind that Viren asks Aaravos once, and only once, if he’s playing a game. The rest of this coding is done through Rayla alone as a character: “It’s a toy. It’s piece from a children’s game,” “It’s a glow toy” and then “Are you practicing magic or are you losing a game?” which now seems like very overt S4 foreshadowing. 

This also played into what I had noticed in terms of the likelihood of games and tests being intertwined, as they often are in mythic stories or folktales, and this statement from Aaravos felt like something that had to come back in some way (and already has for Claudia as a character, circa end of 3x09). 

Playing a game (particularly chess) against Death or the devil for your soul is common and fit neatly together. The marketing for S4 has only reaffirmed this with lines like “They’re not games. They’re tests” from Soren’s short story. 

Aaravos has offered a test of love to one pawn, in Claudia, first tasking her with reviving her father, and now stretching it further to see what she’s willing to do to keep Viren alive. Viren, who was already dead, just as Rayla comes from a culture in which she is already dead and seen as a Ghost. It doesn’t feel like a stretch to presume Aaravos will give Callum his own Test of Love to either pass or fail, and given that Claudia’s have all related to Aaravos’ main priority of getting out of his mirror, Callum’s likely will too. Especially since it seems like Claudia’s motivations for helping Aaravos may change drastically in S4... but more on that later.

What Does CHET Provide Narratively?

Arc 1 of TDP was largely concerned with “How can we fix our parents’ mistakes?” However, as the world grows more complicated and characters more complex as a result, it is likely Arc 2 will ask, “How can we fix our own mistakes?” This requires mistakes to be made, of course: for Rayla, the continual fallout of her leaving, and for Callum, inadvertently helping Aaravos successfully escape his mirror - and then more so by choice (or under coercion, depending on definition). 

This ties into the way Callum often breaks Rayla’s cycles that she’s trapped in whether through her choices, circumstances, or both. By shattering the primal stone, he frees Rayla from her literal and metaphorical chain of her binding. He inspires Rayla to break the cycle in 2x07 and then does his one dark magic spell to break the chains that Rayla’s swords cannot. He breaks the literally circular pendant from Rayla (and Ethari), weighed now with grief and remembrance, in order to see her free to make her own choices.

Which is to say that Rayla is repeating all four of her parents’ most damaging behaviours and cycles, has likely come back with the intention of protecting Callum (with little to no regard to her own well being) and still believing in the idea that she has a price to pay in order to be happy, and all these damaging beliefs need to be broken. If Rayla is going to save Callum from making the full mistakes of his predecessor, in some ways, isn’t it only right that he saves her right back and does the same?

After all, let’s talk about

Paying the Price

This line from 4x01 immediately stood out to me in a major way for a few reasons: 1) this is the first time Callum has ever directly referenced paying the price in such a manner; Ezran (1 time), Rayla (multiple times), Viren (1 time), Harrow (multiple times), and Claudia (1 time) are previously the only characters to do so and Claudia’s is the one comedic exception to how the phrase is usually delivered. 2) It is also the phrase used in the season synopsis, directly asking the question of, “But where did this enigmatic Startouch elf come from? What does he want? And what price will our heroes have to pay to stop him?”

We know, of course, that they won’t stop him. We know then, that ultimately, there is a price they are not willing to pay to stop him. We know, thanks to the series extreme dedication to emphasizing agency, that they rarely let characters off the hook when it comes to making hard choices, for ex: it would’ve been so comparatively easy for Harrow to not know what Viren planned to do ahead of time to the egg and for him to find out after the fact, but instead we see that Harrow knew and approved of Viren ultimately murdering a child. 

If Callum has the cube (or whatever Aaravos needs from him) just tricked/ conned out of him, it removes what would ultimately be the hardest choice he’d have to make. If it’s taken from him forcefully, he’s failed yes and made a bad choice, but again, removes the actual hand over from the equation. When has TDP ever not forced a character to make a hard decision, after all? To choose the harder path and be aware of it, or to pick a different path and convince themselves it’s the right one? Why would Callum and everyone else suddenly be let off the hook now?

And while it’s supplementary material, so we can take it with a grain of salt, but this also ties into how Callum’s Devotional and Liberty (highest) attributes are described in his Tales of Xadia bio:

“I value those close to me more than anyone or anything” and “I’m beholden to my inner circle, not some silly kingdom” respectively

This also ties back to the perpetual trolley problem, if you will, that TDP returns to time and time again, with situations only getting worse and escalating when the dignity of an innocent or one life is disrespected and tossed over for “the greater good,” particularly without their consent. 

Even after her growing bonds with Ezran and 2.5 seasons of character development, we see Rayla consider her choice to spare Marcos to be a mistake (circa 3x03 with Ethari):

R: I failed them. It was my fault we were discovered.

This is particularly true given that Rayla’s original failure was when she was on a mission to a kill a prince and king of Katolis, and she takes on a similar literal and metaphorical mission in TTM as well: killing / leaving one prince of Katolis (symbolically) by taking a piece of his heart (“My heart for Xadia”) just like the Magma Titan while setting out to actually kill a king of Katolis (Viren) that we know she will ultimately fail in.

Which is to say that the “You saved her life and risked us all” is an interesting concept the series has returned to, most particularly in Callum’s foil relationship with Viren. Their primary difference is contrasted starkly back-to-back in 1x02, when Viren offers up guards’ lives in exchange for Harrow’s but hesitates to offer up his own, whereas Callum offers up his own for Ezran’s without hesitation. Ergo, Viren offering up other people’s lives is decidedly shadier because he takes time to come around to offering up his own. But we already know Callum would die and bend his morals for Rayla.

Could he really bring himself to go through with his plan? What if he didn’t succeed? What if he compromised his beliefs and it all ended up being for nothing? […] But her blade bounced off with a clang, sparks flying. She reeled back and tried again. Nothing happened. She was in trouble. He inched towards Claudia’s [spellbook]. (S2 novelization of 2x07)

So him exchanging the cube would not be risking anything of anyone he’s not prepared to risk of himself, creating a messy but understandable justification, and it’d validate the hell out of Rayla’s own ‘original sin’ in sparing Marcos. Life and living is about more than just numbers and survival - and saving her, weighing her life against the world’s and picking her anyway, is not only a classic hero dilemma, but something that would carry a particular amount of weight in the series as is. 

This also ties back into the series’ intrinsic concept of exchange, including but not limited to:

Killing Harrow and wanting to kill Ezran in exchange for Avizandum and Zym’s believed murders

Viren’s plan to exchange one soul for another’s with Harrow in 1x02 that was originally Claudia’s idea

Callum trying to take Ezran’s place to save his little brother in 1x02

Dark magic as an entire principle, exchanging the life of magical creatures for power or agency

Soren killing one king to protect another (3x09)

The entire goal of taking Zym back to his mother in the first place, in hopes that they can deliver a baby dragon in exchange for peace

So why not have that thematically continue through Rayla’s life being exchanged for the cube and exchanged for war?

But this is all more abstract narrative and thematic stuff with some cyclical analysis and nods towards characterization and arcs. Now it’s time to get to the real meat of the theory, which is:

Parallel Episode Structures 

So TDP likes to do this thing, with Callum and Rayla’s arcs in particular, but also with the show as a whole, where they will repeat episode / character conflicts while steadily changing the circumstances and raising the stakes in order to reveal character and spur character / plot development. And they do this especially with plot structure.

Examples of what I mean: In 1x03, Callum chooses staying with Ezran over saving his father, and Rayla chooses the egg and princes and fights Runaan as a result. Both of them, unknowingly at the time, lose their adoptive fathers that night. Then, 2x03 and 3x03 each deal with the fallout of those respective choices they made, processing grief and regret over their losses. 

Or, to get even more specific, I’ll offer up what I call the “Rayla saves a dragon quartet” in which Rayla wants to do something brave but dangerous / self-sacrificing in order to protect a dragon, Callum has reservations, and their dynamic steadily evolves to the point that he goes from worrying but not being able to do anything to jumping right after her. AKA 1x03 on the rooftops, 2x07 in the rain, 3x08 with the Dragon Queen, and 3x09 with Zym. 

Or to get even more specific, I’ll offer up the “Rayla is trying to hide her own pain, Callum tries to get her to open up three times with her nastily rebuffing him each time, then she has a breakdown in the face of his unconditional love, and something bad happens to Zym as a result of them being distracted.” Am I talking about 1x06, or 3x04?

Which is to say, if CHET goes along with the “Callum goes too far and does something reckless / dangerous in relation to Aaravos, Rayla pays the consequence and gets taken hostage, Callum / the boys come to save her, he gets her out in a way she has understandable issues with, and ends with a note of ‘I hope it was worth it to you, putting everyone’s lives in danger,’” it will be a perfect inverse of 1x04. And we know 1x04 was written with an endgame in mind, given the mention of the cube being in the game room, as well as Callum saying things like, “You wait here, one minute, two minutes - however long it takes, I’ll go find a key.” 

After all, much like they could have had Callum resolve to do dark magic in 2x07 without harkening back to his crush on Claudia to foreshadow his growing feelings for Rayla, there were infinite ways to write 1x04 that did not have Rayla being the one to find and risk her life for the cube. They could have easily had Callum or even Ezran stumble upon it, grab it, and have Rayla get caught looking for it or just not moving stealthily enough around the room when Amaya catches her. They could’ve had the boys go into the Lodge together with Rayla hanging back (as they’re human and wouldn’t have raised any eyebrows), but she can’t exactly leave without them, but no. The show chose this very specific plot structure, and we’ve yet to see it entirely repeat in full. And with 4x01 paralleling 1x01 very closely (Soren letting slip the king is in trouble, Callum wanting to help, king and high mage discussing Moonshadow assassins on balconies), and with 4x02 possibly paralleling Rayla’s return with callbacks to 1x02, I think this future repetition of 1x04 is only getting more and more likely.

Then you also have the ways that, if Callum transfers the cube - something magical and powerful, something he’s fixated on - and ‘sacrifices’ it for Rayla, it’s another perfect inversion to how he shattered the primal stone to save Zym in 1x09, thus unleashing a storm onto the world but for good reasons, and for a peaceful purpose. Again, if we look at Zym as one piece of the exchange for peace, then unleashing Aaravos in another terrible sort of metaphorical ‘storm’ is the perfect inversion that an even greater era of war and conflict is on the way. 

The show has had smaller 1x09 parallels - Callum trusting Ezran rather than doubting him (3x07); Rayla almost going off the cliff to save Zym before she actually does so in 3x09; and in terms of Callum sacrificing the primal stone is a good example of how he’s let go of some of his 1x04 fuelled fixation for the time being. But they’ve also shown Callum repeat his old mistakes when he goes out into the storm in 2x04, in which he says, “I put us both in danger. I could’ve gotten Zym killed” yet “Worst of all, when we were right there in the centre of the storm - I thought I wanted this badly enough but in the end, I didn’t have the guts.” He still considers the worst part of the experience to be his lack of a magical connection.

Then there’s the way that post-TTM has lined up well with 2x07, episode wise. Again from a structural standpoint: Rayla feels compelled to do something, Callum wants to help her, she goes off alone, he hangs back with Ezran feeling helpless and frustrated before he ultimately goes after her, bending/breaking his morals and engaging with Dark Magic to do so. The big differences is that Rayla has gone from saying it’s okay if he can’t come with her to telling him not to, and that rather than resolve to find her on his own, Rayla has returned to him first. But up until her return, the structure was intact, so I’ll be curious to see if the second part of the episode comes true too. Possibly - in an alternative way - with Callum doing dark magic in general, or with him specifically handing over the cube. 

If you are interested more in how TTM parallels 2x07 itself specifically, setting up a reconciliation plot structure for Rayllum in S4 reminiscent of 2x08-2x09, check out this larger meta here.

Orpheus and Eurydice Motif

So we know that Rayla and Callum are going to get separated thanks to this screencap from the trailer with two main options: 

1) it’s a fakeout and they’re reunited shortly afterwards, finally reconciling, or 2) it’s not a fakeout, and part of the finale, 4x09, “Escape from Umber Tor” following the fallout of 4x08 “Rex Igneous” is about getting her back. Given that Aaravos has been compared to Lucifer and that “Umber Tor” means Shadow Tower, if Rayla was taken to a shadowy place high on a mountain or deep below the ground... It’s a pretty good Underworld allegory, and the show has given this to Rayllum before in which Rayla travels to their version of the Underworld, her Orpheus - a magically inclined artist per the mythos - goes after her, and unlike in the myth, he manages to successfully save her. Sort of. Since, as we know, the end of TTM still results in a tragic separation for our two lovers. 

This is also similar structure wise to Rayla facing certain death in 3x09 by tackling Viren off the Pinnacle, Callum jumping after her, and his love for her unlocking new magical power so he can save her. Again, this meta of Callum and Rayla as Orpheus and Eurydice goes into greater detail, but I think it’s interesting it’s a pretty specific pattern we’ve seen happen two times, and now the question is if we’ll see it happen as a third. Especially since as the musical Hadestown paints it so eloquently 

TTM has just been the mythic structure fulfilled both happily and tragically, with Rayla choosing — in many ways — both metaphorically and literally, in risk taking to go back to the Underworld. Callum is then reaching a double crossroads. Does he follow her down into hell, again? And in other ways, this is arguably the first time he’s being tested. For so much of s1-s3, and even in TTM, saving Rayla was a no brainer. Whatever chance he had, Callum had zero hesitation, zero misgivings. In his heart and in his mind, he had no reason not to.

Now, thanks to TTM, there is a seed of doubt. And just like with Orpheus cutting a deal with Hades out of love to get his wife back, Aaravos may cut a similar deal with Callum as his own Test of Love.

[ORPHEUS, spoken] Mr. Hermes? [HERMES, spoken] Yes? [ORPHEUS] It's not a trick? [HERMES, spoken] No, it's a test

Speaking of which, let’s finally talk about Aaravos’ hand in all this - as well as foil relationships and contrasts with Viren and Claudia.

Pawns and Kings 

Once S3 wrapped up, I figured that Rayla and Claudia’s foil relationship would be amped up further, now that they had nearly matching white hair, and I always thought that Rayla’s paranoid and restless behaviour would return in a significant way prior to TTM. Now they’ve both destroyed their lives for Viren - Claudia to save him, Rayla to kill him - in the two year timeskip and are dealing with the fallout of those decisions. 

While the Viren-Callum parallels going into S4 are massive, and are undeniably the biggest foil relationship this season, I think ultimately the conclusions on their arcs will be regarding their differences, given lines that Viren has said of, “We must be ready to sacrifice, even the things we love,” while if Callum picks Rayla over the world, he will be steadfastly and repeatedly rejecting that in his arc, while Viren may catch up too late that he has unintentionally sacrificed Claudia for his goals. 

I went into more detail on it here a few weeks ago, but now that we have confirmation from a few reviews of the first four episodes of season four, it seems I was right to think that Viren is getting an atonement arc, regretting what he’s done and specifically what Claudia has done for him as a result of it. This would perfectly parallel the sort of Rayla arc also needs to have, of realizing the full weight and why of her previous mistakes and realizing she was wrong. After all, she and Viren are both “already dead” - metaphorically and literally, respectively. 

Meanwhile, Callum and Claudia have been set up to have mirrored arcs as well, as they get pulled deeper and deeper into Aaravos’ machinations as his two latest pawns. We will presumably see him manipulate both of them this season in order for them to help get the pieces in place to release him from his mirror. Claudia and Callum have, in their relationships with Viren and Rayla, already had parallel Tests of Love in 3x09 - saving their loved one from the brink of death in a powerful display of magic - and are set up to have parallel Tests of Love regarding lies and forgiveness in S4.

However, where I think this season will end up seeing Claudia and Viren split from one another - her angry that he “doesn’t understand or appreciate” all she’s done for him thanks to his re-evaluation that maybe he should stay dead, his life not worth the toll it’s taken on the world and her (and that he’s right this time) - that leads the way for the finale’s Test of Love to be Callum and Rayla in so many ways, as Callum saves Rayla from being “already dead” - and he’s right to do so, even if it’s still a hard choice. 

This would allow Viren and Rayla to be strangely ideologically aligned, Viren in a positive way for his arc, Rayla in a negative way in her arc, in believing that when Callum shows up that

More meta on Rayla and Viren’s parallels here, as well as Rayla as Aaravos’ inverse to Callum’s Viren. 

Furthermore, this scenario gives all the characters place to work from in future seasons: Claudia can fall deeper into villainy now truly unhinged thanks to being “abandoned” by her father and as Aaravos’ next future pawn to discard (almost a la Ozai and Azula in ATLA, as Claudia has been compared to Azula by co-creator Aaron Ehasz in the past), Viren must work with the heroes who have no reason to trust him but to who he can provide infinitely valuable information, Aaravos keeps him alive in a “reap what you sow” esque punishment, Rayla can possibly start looking for her parents properly and will have a new kind of self worth, and Callum has a goal to reclaim the cube, help Rayla, develop his Moon arcanum magic, and defeat Aaravos once and for all. 

Since, after all, Callum is the King that Aaravos needs to get out; the final pawn in this stage of manipulations. 

Checkmate

More than a game of strategy, Chess is a game of sacrifice. I’ve played for most of my life and typically, games come down to making sure you sacrifice the right pieces (pawns) in order to protect your more important pieces, particularly your Queen and of course, your King. Aaravos’ relations to chess have been repeated over and over again, as well as Checkmate referring to him winning the game and getting out of his mirror by the end of the season which again, we know is happening this season. 

If you are interested in reading more about TDP’s chess symbolism, check out this meta in which I break it down for the main cast of characters. Terry is not included as we didn’t know he’d be in the season before I wrote it, and as we still know very little about him, I’m not sure where I’d place him (although maybe as a Rook or Bishop or something). 

Moreover, one of the most important rules in a chess game is that if a pawn reaches the other end of the board, you can swap it in for one of your more important taken pieces (which will almost always be your Queen if you’ve lost her). 

And again, the chess metaphor works particularly well because in a game of strategy and sacrifice, Aaravos has to find the thing the heroes aren’t willing to sacrifice; the price they’re not willing to pay. Per the chess metaphor and characteristics of the pieces, although I considered other options as I went along, Rayla fits the characteristics / placement of the Queen piece the best and Callum as the King piece.

It is for all these narrative reasons and more that I think it is very likely that, if not taken hostage directly, Rayla will at the very least be what’s used to coerce Callum into having an almost equal hand in freeing Aaravos as Claudia (also giving her some wiggle room to potentially come back from, if she does it out of spite or if she thinks if she ignores Viren’s wishes and ‘fixes’ the problem he’ll change his mind, like she thought she could with Soren in 2x08/9 in some ways). 

After all, if the emotional payoff of TTM isn’t going to be Callum looking for her, there still has to be a counter-balance / reason behind her absence. What better reason could there be than “I lost her once. I’m not going to lose her again” with his grief in the two year absence providing his emotional, plot driven justification as Callum does everything he possibly can to get her back?

Now, onto my favourite part: the foreshadowing. 

The section is what I call the “this feels like direct setup” with some repeats of what we’ve seen before as well. The next section will be about generational stuff including parents, character designs, cycles, etc. The third section is stuff I think is possibly less likely foreshadowing, but I like it, so I hope it is, called “Be foreshadowing, do it for me.” Hope you enjoy!

Misc. Foreshadowing #1: Heavily Likely

Who the hell is Aaravos saying his “My return to this world is inevitable” and why Rayla is a real candidate to be who it is being delivered to.

Callum rejecting the cube in 2x08 when Harrow reminds him that he’s free VS Callum handing over the cube in 4x09 because Rayla isn’t

They said that, sometimes, we make sacrifices so that the ones we love don’t have to. It’s part of protecting them—part of protecting you. Taking on hard choices and going to dark places is an act of love.

Generational Parallels 

If Callum is rageful against Viren, that cements the other half of the Viren-Avizandum intro parallel, as that is a moment in which Avizandum is not only separated from his child, but hunted due to taking away the love of King Harrow’s life, Queen Sarai. Just as Rayla is repeating Runaan’s cycles (down to her one silver shoulder pad design that is a smaller version of his), it would not surprise me if Callum began to repeat Harrow’s. If you want the in depth version of this theory, check out this tag here, but I think the screencaps speak decently well enough for themselves, don’t you?

Rayla and Runaan’s parallels are also particularly important as due to his stubbornness and duty, Runaan was taken captive by Claudia to be used by Viren specifically in regards to the mirror, and Sarai ultimately died saving Viren’s life.

There are also Callum’s parallels to Runaan to consider (down to the hostage situation in Bloodmoon Huntress) as well as Rayla’s parallels to Harrow.

Misc. Foreshadowing #2: Please be foreshadowing, do it for me

Rebuttals 

Don’t have a lot of interest in discussing negatives, however as the theory gained a lot of traction in the past 3 or so months, there were some issues people had with it, namely: doesn’t it reduce Rayla to a damsel in distress, isn’t it predictable, and why would Rayla forgive Callum for this in the end, all of which I’ve laid out ‘rebuttals’ to over time. If you have for some reason made it all the way down here in this post while still having reservations, one of these metas may remedy them for you - or maybe not! Either way, I think they’re an interesting read.

Rayla is not a damsel in distress

Predictable

Why would Rayla be okay with this in the end?

Other Misc Thoughts

Romeo and Juliet comparisons (thanks, Viren’s VA)

The Way Rayla Has Always Been Set Up as Both Callum’s Salvation and Destruction

Rayllum’s parallels to Aaravos’ “Patience” story (which relates to their overall dynamic I think)

Callum and Rayla always liking/loving each other “too much” than is good for them / Callum as an Icarus figure (boy with wings who flies too close to the literal or proverbial sun)

Why the cube can’t just be positive / Why Rayla’s absence can’t just be positive

TTM / S4′s ATLA Comparisons and Parallels

TDP and Tarot: Rayllum as the Lovers and Aaravos as the Devil

Adam and Eve Comparisons

Alternatives

So let’s just say I’m wrong and all of this foreshadowing, meta, etc. has been for nothing? Cool! I had a good time writing it, theorizing with other people, writing my own fics, and immensely enjoyed reading other people’s fics regarding the theory as well. I have donned my clown wig before with far less reason to and with far less fun as a result, so I’ll have no regrets if that ends up being the case here.

However, and this is what I’ve always come back to in terms of wracking my brain and narrative for this theory is that even with less than one day to release, I have never seen an alternative theory that actually answers all the questions this one has set out to, namely:

What is the Cube?

How do Callum and Rayla ultimately reconcile?

How does Aaravos get out of his mirror?

At least, not all at once, and not in a way that offers up tangible arcs for characters past-S4 either, or in arcs that feel feel a little bit less effective. Now, if Callum loses the Key just out of his own foolishness, that means the finale arc is just a mad dash to try to get it back, which the team will ultimately fail at, but that almost feels like too big of a punishment for something he was so heavily manipulated into (I think he’d have more guilt over that than if he’d made an actual Choice under coercion, y’know?). If the key isn’t crucial to getting out, then why highlight it so much this season? If Callum’s finale arc is just about resisting temptation, than how does that lead to Aaravos getting out — isn’t that too positive a note to end on, and a bit too repetitious of 2x08 if it’s that simple, arguably? And again, it feels like this season has to start addressing the dark side of Rayla’s self sacrificial tendencies and start edging towards fixing them (ergo her realizing she has worth) since it was all those issues compounded that made her leave in the first place?

So perhaps our closing note is to say that, although it’s not as though there are no real alternatives to CHET, there are none out there that currently find answers for what to do with all the pieces on the board and how to achieve the outcome we know S4 is spiralling out to, and that is why for all these reasons, I am very hopeful and excited that I may be right going into S4, for each and every reason provided above.

Happy last day of hiatus, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

#rayllum #tdp #the dragon prince #devil and the lovers #tdp rayla #tdp callum #parallels #cube hostage exchange theory #mutual salvation theory #moon arcanum theory #s4 spoilers #tdp spoilers #predictions #masterpost #analysis series #analysis #warning: very very long and if it doesn't show in the tags i'll cry #s4 #arc 1 #arc 2 #orpheus and eurydice motif #light and darkness motif #s4 speculation

[lunarw0rks]

Ok, so... You know that your thought isn't completely wrong, right?

I'm not talking about you just posting fics, writing and writing, overworking yourself and becoming a robot. Because I believe it's something (writing) you like and if you just did what I said, you'd definitely have a burnout and stop writing.

Have you noticed that there is no balance? For example: before it was just drabbles, fics and everything, now there are just random conversations. Don't get me wrong, the interaction you have with people is very good, we really enjoy talking to you. But there is no post balance. I don't know what your life is like, I don't know how busy you are in your daily life... But I'm talking here more about organization than anything else. And for God's sake, I'm not a hater. I could never, I've already made some requests to you and you were amazing, just like everything you write (and a lot of people say you write incredibly well). Basically organization...? You even mentioned a few days ago that you had requests from last month. I don't want to be unfair here, there is creative block. It happens. But then it's time to organize.

So let's assume you have 34 requests, they are not going out and your box is still open... Why? Because if your box is open, you're not writing and more requests are coming in, how are you going to write so much? So it was like I said before, you end up exceeding your limit, overworking yourself, demanding of yourself and that is not healthy at all... And fun ends up becoming an obligation.

I hope I managed to get the message across correctly, I don't want this to be interpreted as hate -✨

not hate, at least from how i read it! i can see what you mean about the organization, and i agree for the most part.

the whole reason i started this blog was because i wasn't going to be working during the summer — and that worked great, until now. fall is here, and i have a job opportunity coming up. that being said, i was planning on closing my requests for a bit, until everything is sorted. i obviously won't be as available (with requests), won't be able to write during the day, etc.

i definitely don't want to get burnt out when balancing work with a writing hobby, so i'll be doing that, for sure

#rachel speaks #not writing

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 53

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: A familiar face knocks on Matt's door, demanding the truth about the past couple of days, but telling the truth would mean endangering him, and neither Matt nor she wants that to happen. She feels bad for lying to Happy, but there is no other way, not when she wants to protect him, so she puts on a mask and pretends she's okay when in reality, she is anything but, and Matt makes sure to take care of her with unconditional devotion.

Warnings: Angst, mention of injury and blood, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5k

A/n: Fun fact: I wrote this chapter and the previous one as one chapter. Then I separated them because I struggled with the second part which is now this chapter. I completely forgot to post it here, which is why it has already been up on AO3 for a bit, but anyway. This is still pretty mental health heavy and so is the next chapter, so be careful and take care of yourselves!

Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar (& if you want to be added too, fill out this form!)

Read Chapter 53: I Will Be Your Remedy here on AO3!

Sometime around halfway into cleaning the kitchen, Matt perked up. Her breathing and heartbeat were calm, sounding their usual rhythm as she slept. He directed his attention toward the front door of the apartment complex. A familiar set of footsteps echoed through the hallway, followed by the stairwell. 

He took a few steps forward, waiting for the person to finalize their decision. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door. He reached for his glasses on the dining table and quickly made his way to the front door. Another knock sounded out, this time louder than before. Eliza was still fast asleep in the bedroom, but he worried that if he didn’t open the door soon enough, it would be kicked in and then her sleep would be disturbed all over again. She needed the rest. Unexpected visitors were the last thing he wanted her to concern herself with, so perhaps he could find a way to send him away before he could even think about entering. 

Matt opened the door only enough for him to stand in the gap, listening to the rapid heartbeat of the man across from him. He could smell hints of sweat on his skin, his eyes were sunken and he’d probably had one or two coffees too many on his way. He braced himself on the door frame and waited for him to speak; if he told him that he knew very well who was standing in front of him, his cover would be blown, and that was a conversation he wasn’t ready for just yet. 

“Hey,” Happy said, his chest heaving with the lack of oxygen from his sprint up the stairs. 

“Oh. Happy?” Matt asked. “What’re you doing here?”

“I know you’re trying to play dumb, but we both know why I’m here.”

He took a deep breath. “Happy…”

“She hasn’t answered any of my calls. Eliza, she… she hasn’t even read my texts. I mean, I only saw the news long after the trial ended, but man, I tried reaching her as soon as I found out and she still hasn’t shown me a sign of life. I just need to know if she’s okay, Matt. Please.”

He raised his hand wordlessly, trying to calm his rambling down to a minimum. 

Happy’s eyes softened. “Is she here?” he asked. 

Matt was hesitant to answer. His expression seemed sheerly unreadable, and with each silent second passed between them, Happy grew more and more agitated, and his worry exceeded new limits. The desperation in his voice grew into a clear sound that could have been counted as begging. He was pleading with Matt for the answers he couldn’t find before, and the more he stared at his blank face, the more he began to suspect the worst. He was wired that way. 

“Please,” his voice sounded barely above a whisper. “I don’t ask for much, I just need to know what happened, and I need to see for myself that she’s alive and well. This is killing me here. You remember the last time she went MIA? Yeah, she almost died then and I thought I’d lost her, so I really need to know history isn’t repeating itself right now.”

He tried giving her space. It wasn’t the first time Eliza had disappeared off of the face of the earth without a word, and it wouldn’t be the last, but the context in which she disappeared was enough to shoot his anxiety levels through the roof. 

The news didn’t offer much information on the shooting, and he doubted the police even knew what was going on. He saw her on the video, replayed it a million times with Tony by his side. He remembered going pale in the face and excusing himself to call her, but Eliza didn’t pick up. He lost count of how many times he tried to reach her or coax a reaction out of her that would show him she was okay. She didn’t even read the countless text messages, and that was the most unlike her. 

His thoughts were all over the place, most of them incapable of being sorted, and the categories his mind found for certain horror scenarios were sickening. Happy felt nauseous, even more so while looking into his own reflection in the red glass that covered Matt’s unfocused eyes. His lip twitched, but he didn’t smile, he didn’t cry, he looked like a mere robot waiting for confirmation to act. He hated the anticipation, it drove his blood pressure to a point that would earn him a glare or two from Tony once he checked the stats of his new watch, but there was not much calmness to be found in his heart when it came to the troublemaker that Eliza was. And some of the trouble she got into wasn’t even her fault, her life just happened to work that way, and somehow that drilled the knife even deeper into the already weeping wound. 

Much to his surprise, Matt took a step back. He lowered his head, let out a weary sigh, and waved softly. “Come in,” he said. 

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah. I was just about to make some coffee.”

Happy scattered his thoughts as quickly as they had fallen and followed after him into the apartment. He looked around, catching sight of some of Eliza’s clothing carelessly thrown over the back of the couch. He could smell her perfume and the remains of her favorite sandwich in the air. Her coat hung on the rack next to the door and her bag had found home over one of the chairs at the dining table. It looked nothing like the compound had looked back when she was still living there. The sight of Matt’s apartment was the perfect picture of domesticity, and he seemed to navigate well around the ordinary mess that came with the relationship. Pieces of him mixed with pieces of her and it formed a sanctuary they were both more than happy to be living with him. 

Matt was her safe place, he realized. She loved living with him. She was comfortable and felt at home, and she had quickly made his four walls into her own too. Even at the compound, Eliza kept a packed bag under her bed, ready to leave and run if the need arose. With Matt, it seemed entirely different; she had finally found a home, and it seemed as if she was nowhere close to running. 

Happy’s chest filled with pride yet a sense of sadness when he thought about what could have been, and how her life still managed to put stones in her way even after she had decided that staying was worth the fight. 

“Where is she?” he asked. 

Matt shushed the loud tone of his voice and pointed toward the milky glass of the bedroom door. “She’s resting,” he said. “She’s had a rough couple of days, that’s also why she hasn’t answered your texts. I think. She hasn’t been on her phone much. But she’s okay, Happy, I can assure you that. She’s always safe with me.”

“She’s okay?”

“Yeah, she is.” He mustered a small smile. 

Happy lowered himself down on one of the empty chairs. “Oh, thank God!” 

He didn’t mention her stay at the hospital, the countless breakdowns, or the events of the previous night. It wasn’t Matt’s story to tell, it was hers, and he knew Eliza wanted nothing more than to keep her family safe. If he had told Happy the truth, what little safety the unknown offered him would have been gone. He couldn’t make such a decision on his own, and it wasn’t fair to her, either. 

He stayed quiet, instead brewing the coffee he had intended to make. He focused on her presence in the other room, noting how her chest continued to rise and fall calmly. How long she would be able to sleep, he wasn’t sure, but for now, she was still safe and sound in her resting state. 

Matt poured the coffee into two mugs, a bit more relaxed now. “Milk or sugar?” he questioned. 

“Both,” said Happy. 

He nodded and added the last few finishing touches to their drinks before carrying them over to the table. 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I have to ask,” Happy couldn’t help himself but disrupt the growing silence before it could even settle in, “You were there. What happened?”

Matt sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

There was a fine line between saying too little and saying too much, and he wasn’t sure how long he could walk that line in the green zone before slipping. 

"The preliminary hearing... it was intense," Matt began, his words coming out in slow puffs of air, carefully choosing his every word. "With that I mean, emotionally draining for all of us. But Eliza, especially. The judge ruled in our favor, so we thought things would work out... When we left the courthouse, we thought we could move on, you know?" 

Happy nodded, his eyes glued to his lips as he hung on every word. 

"Well, needless to say, that also didn't work out. Viktor was talking to the cops and his lawyer was there and it was just... it was messy. And you know how she is; when Eliza wants something, you can't pull that woman back, no matter how hard you try. And I tried, but she still went to confront him."

His brows furrowed. "Confronted him?" he asked. “While he was talking to the press that already hates her? Is she crazy? You know what, that was a stupid question. Ignore that. Of course, she’s crazy. She’s never been short of that.”

Matt shrugged, his head nodding slightly. It was true; Eliza had a strong tendency to go crazy and get what she wanted whenever she wanted just by defying the odds and all possible rules. But that was exactly why he loved her so much. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Can’t argue with that. But she... she wanted answers, she wanted closure. I don’t blame her, I really don’t. You weren’t in that courtroom, so you wouldn’t know, but she went through hell and back in such a short amount of time. Seeing him get a platform to speak made him snap and I did consider letting her do what she wanted to do, believe me.”

“Well,” Happy found himself agreeing, “I’m not saying he deserved it, but…”

“He did deserve it. That bastard… he hurt her and he deserved a lot more than just being killed. He deserved the cruelest punishment known to men and I just hope that wherever he is, he gets fucking punished.” His eyes were absolutely wild behind his glasses. 

Happy matched the tone of his voice when he agreed once again. He wasn’t a religious man, but in this case, he hoped hell would make the man who did this to her suffer. Death was too kind for him, but there was also pain in death and he prayed to a God he didn’t believe him that he would meet his fate with the same pain he had caused Eliza and still continued causing her even beyond the grave. 

Matt took a deep breath. “But I did try to stop her because I knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she seriously hurt another person again,” he said, “but before I knew it, chaos erupted and then everything went to shit.” He took another sip from his coffee, angry, almost, wishing it were a bottle of beer or something stronger. “Shots were fired, people were screaming, it was so loud, and Eliza was right behind him when it happened. I mean, right there. From what I heard, she had blood all over her. I shielded her, of course, but other than the three shots that killed Viktor, there weren't any more fired that day."

Dread filled Happy's eyes. "Is she... is she okay?"

"Physically, yes. But it was a shock for her, and she's been struggling to process everything. It's been... yeah, it's been a journey." Matt pinched his nose, fighting off the fatigue that started to settle in. "And she hasn't had it easy these past two days, so..."

“That’s why she hasn’t answered?”

He nodded. 

“Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but you have to believe me when I say that I’ve done everything so far to protect her and I’m going to make sure she comes out of this alright. She just… Eliza needs time, Happy. Plain and simple. And you need to give those trying to find whoever did this time too. It was hard for me to accept at first too, but there’s no other way. She wasn’t the initial target, and she’s still alive. We have to hold onto that, you know?”

“Of course, I know that,” Happy said. His eyes stared emptily at the mug in front of him. “But-”

The sound of the bedroom door sliding open cut through their conversation. 

Matt had been so focused on picking the right version of the story that he lost focus on Eliza’s sleeping form. He missed the sound of the bed creaking and her heartbeat changing speed. As soon as the door started to open, he rose to his feet, his head tilted in her direction. 

“Sweetheart,” he said softly. 

She rubbed her eyes and looked at him, then Happy sitting at the dining table. 

“You okay? You shouldn’t be up. You should be in bed. I told you if you needed something, all you had to do was call for me.”

Meeting his worried eyes, she raised her hand and waved him off. “I’m fine,” she said. “Happy-” she turned to him. “I’m so sorry.” The nervous quiver in her voice moved to her hands as she fidgeted with them. They were hidden far in the sleeves of one of Matt’s sweaters. It was too hot outside to even be wearing wool, but she was expertly trying to hide the bandages on her knuckles, and her nervous ticks played along. It made it easier for her to keep up the facade. 

He stared at her, his eyes wide. The relief finally settled in fully, filling his heart to the brim. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls or your texts. I didn’t pay attention to my phone and I just saw the messages you all left me in the past two days and I’m… I’m so sorry. I never meant to worry any of you.”

Happy rose from his chair and approached her. The circles under his eyes looked dark and evident as the sun hit them just right. He opened his arms, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug that she didn’t anticipate. 

He cursed under his breath. “Don’t ever do this to me again,” he told her, “you scared the living crap out of me. Oh, Jesus Christ.” 

He held her even closer, not wanting to let her go. He was scared that if he did, she would slip away or that he would lose her, and it was a fear that gradually paralyzed him and tuned out the initial relief he’d felt. 

From the moment she woke up from her nap and heard his voice in the living room, her body was on high alert. She realized she had abandoned that part of her life while she was so focused on herself. Tony left countless voicemails on her phone that still lay on the bedside table untouched, Happy did too. She skimmed over the messages and they were all pretty convinced she was dead.

The exhaustion was nothing like she had felt before. Her body ached, her muscles straining with every move, and she had battled with herself about whether or not to get out of bed and face him. She didn’t mean to, but she hurt him. She hurt him, Tony and Pepper, and everyone else who was so worried about her. She pushed away everyone and almost did the same to Matt, but he was persistent. He kept her alive, and she forgot about the world around them because right there, in the cozy apartment they shared, nothing existed but the two of them. She forgot what living felt like. Her existence didn’t feel all too real, so hearing Happy’s voice next door had been like a harsh slap to the face. 

She tried not to cry when he finally hugged her. “I’m okay,” she whispered, her voice muffled even more through his chest. 

“You need to be a lot more responsible with your phone.”

“I know.”

“You can’t keep doing that.”

“I know.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she cut him off. “I was just so caught up, I didn’t think. My mind’s been all over the place lately. I had to take a break from life to sort this shit out and I’m sorry for not telling you guys I’m okay, but I’m here now and as you can tell, I’m fine, Happy. I’m okay.”

He took a step back to look at her. “You look exhausted,” he said. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all. Matt has been taking good care of me.”

“Good,” he glanced at the man next to them, “He better.”

“He has. He always does.”

“I appreciate that you have someone looking out for you, but please, the next time something like this happens, make sure you don’t disappear without a trace for two days. We’ve been worried sick. Tony, too, by the way.”

“That’s… unusual.”

“It just means that we care about you,” Happy corrected her. 

“I know and I’m sorry,” she said.

“I know you are, pumpkin. Just-” He hugged her again. “Don’t give me another heart attack. My blood pressure is already high and Tony is gonna kill me when he sees that my stats have changed for the worse.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

Happy's grip on her tightened briefly before he released her, giving her a gentle pat on the cheek. "We care about you, Liz, and we want to make sure you're safe. That's what family does, you know? We have each other's backs."

"Yeah, we do. Thank you."

Matt chose to step away and silently busied himself with the leftover dishes in the kitchen, still listening intently to their conversation. Eliza's heartbeat carried proof of how she truly felt, though, on the outside, she tried to shine brighter than the sun. She smiled at him, albeit a fake smile but Happy seemed to buy it. She made her voice sound more cheery than hoarse, and her body language spoke as openly as she could make it look even though open was the last word Matt would have used to describe her. He was worried, but he understood. He was the master of keeping secrets and sometimes you have to protect the people you love, which was exactly what she did. She protected Happy by not telling him the truth, and by not showing him how entirely hopeless and empty she felt inside, how much she was truly struggling, she eased his conscience. He was far too innocent to be dragged into their mess.

“You know, if you need anything,” Happy began then, “Tony and I are more than willing to help.”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “I have a roof over my head, a nice boyfriend and I have a job. What more could I possibly need?”

Mental stability would be a start. But that is something you can’t acquire on the market. 

“You’re right, I’m just worried about you. So if there’s anything you need, I want you to call me, okay?”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Thank you.”

As she led him to the door, she promised to call Tony back and explain, and she promised she would come around the compound soon. After talking to him at her father’s grave, they didn’t speak much other than the occasional conversation during the preparations for the preliminary hearing. He failed to do damage control when it came to the press, so he retreated. Tony Stark hated failure. He wasn’t used to it. 

Their foundation used to be strong, but it began to swindle one day and things weren’t the same as they once were. The circumstances changed. Her life changed. Tony changed. He wasn’t like a father to her anymore, just a man she occasionally spoke to because he hurt her in ways he couldn’t make up for. She forgave him, but the scars ran deep. She pushed all thoughts about him away and decided to move on, but he was still part of her life and whether she liked it or not, they were family. If her time as an Avenger taught her anything it was to appreciate what she had because it could be gone sooner rather than later. 

She had been so caught up in everything, she neglected what she had left of her family. She had Matt, Foggy, and Karen and they were her new family now, but the bond with the people she had once lived with was still there. She wanted to nurture it while at the same time, she was struggling to get over the events of the past and their role in it. She screwed up, her friends screwed up, and she had truly thought she would end up alone. Thankfully, she didn’t, but it had been incredibly close. 

Her head dropped to the door as it closed behind Happy. She took a deep breath. Anger boiled up in her veins. It glowed red hot and reminded her of a red towel held in front of the eyes of a bull. 

Eliza grabbed the nearest object she could find, which just happened to be Matt’s keys, and threw them against the wall with a loud, pained groan. Her hands were no longer covered by her sleeves, revealing the bandages underneath; they were close to getting soaked again, and Matt could smell the disinfectant mixing with her blood as it hit the sterile fabric around the wounds. 

He listened to her erratic heartbeat, but he knew better than to jump in. She had to channel her emotions, and as long as she didn’t channel them into hurting herself, he didn’t mind if she tossed his keys or the entire drawer across the room. 

Only when she raised her hand to land her fist on the wall did he reach out and pull her away. “That’s enough,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into him. “You’re okay. You did so good, I’m proud of you.”

Her grunt turned into a weak whimper. “I hate lying to him,” she said. She was tired of the tears, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight them. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

“I just wish everything wasn’t so shitty…”

He shushed her as he rubbed her back, cradling her head with the other hand. She nuzzled into his chest. As he held her close, his hand wandered to her forehead. With her heartbeat still erratic and the sudden heat that seemed to erupt from her body, he couldn’t resist. He used his palm first, then used the back of his hand to confirm what he had already suspected. 

“You’re burning up,” he said. 

“I’m fine,” Eliza insisted. 

“Well, you have a fever, so I think you’re not fine.”

“What are you, a thermometer?”

“Technically, yes.”

“I can handle it. I’ve had worse.”

“I know that. I just think your knuckles might have gotten infected.”

She huffed. “It’ll go away.”

“Just admit you’re not feeling well,” Matt grabbed her face, “I just want to help you. Let me take care of you,” he said. 

Her muscles ached with the fatigue of the fever, and her skin was sticky with sweat. She hadn’t before realized how bad it got. 

Weakly, Eliza mustered a nod. He was grateful that he didn’t have to push her. He guided her to the couch, her limbs heavy as she walked. She sat down, waiting for him to join her, but he disappeared. The dishes in the kitchen clanged. She heard the tap run, the sound turning dull as it hit something soft. She even counted the seconds until he came back, her body locked up from the heat that burned her alive and the anxiety that she would be forever alone even though she wasn’t, and she hated feeling like her life wasn’t hers to control but belonged to the monsters in her head. 

Matt returned with a cold, wet towel and another cup of tea for her. She took it gladly, even took a sip of water as he draped the towel over her forehead. There wasn’t much else he could do. 

“Matt?” she asked weakly into the silence that had settled between them. 

He lifted his head with a soft smile. “Yes?”

“Can you… hold me?”

He nodded and sat down on the couch, his back turned to the armrest. She climbed into his lap, her back pressed flush against his chest. He held her close, his grip carrying enough strength to keep her from falling and making sure the badly glued pieces of her heart wouldn’t crack again. 

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and allowed herself to close her eyes. As the heat in her body rose, the exhaustion burned into her nerves. She clung to Matt, her one and only, her lifeline. He took that as a hint and tightened his hold around her, his arms wrapping around her frame completely. She was hot against him, but she needed him and he didn’t mind a little heat. He just wanted her to be okay, which she wasn’t, and that was something he desperately wanted to change. Being helpless was the worst feeling and he loathed it, especially when it came to the people he loved, and he had never loved someone as dearly as he loved the woman in his arms.

She relaxed as much as that was possible in her state, her lips parting slightly to let out a contented sigh. “Thank you,” she murmured, and he wasn’t sure if the slurring of her voice was due to tiredness or her being delirious. 

He whispered back into her ear, “Anything for you.”

But no matter how hard she tried, Eliza couldn’t find a way to restful sleep. She stayed awake in his arms, her mind consumed by thoughts. They were nowhere near close to finding the man who seemed to be putting Matt’s work to shame. He terrified the underworld of the city. He killed Viktor. And his alias suggested that killing criminals to enforce his twisted views of justice was simply his thing, and that turned into an even more terrifying realization because, in the end, Eliza was a criminal too. Perhaps that was why he visited her in the hospital, in the hopes she wouldn’t see him, and then left when she woke up. Perhaps the Punisher came to the hospital to silently tell her to count her days, that she was on his list of targets next, and that he would do anything in his power to make her join Viktor in hell, which Viktor had told her would happen soon enough. 

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of dying like him and then being forced to live with the thought that she failed to serve justice for all the other girls he hurt and whose deaths he was responsible for. 

Matt noticed she wasn’t asleep. He tried running his finger through her hair, but she still hadn’t found rest, so he chose to ask, “What’s on your mind?”

“Everything,” she admitted. 

In the solace of the dawning night, she was trapped in a spiral of what could have been, would have been, or should have been. She was trapped in the fears of the past and those of the future, and whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of her victims and the faces of the men who ruined her life. She saw the childhood she had missed pass before her eyes. She was turned into a weapon and she never had a choice. And even now her past came back to haunt her every time she was happy, leaving her with no choice but to succumb to their painful claws of death. 

“What’s everything?” asked Matt. 

Eliza shrugged. “Just everything.”

“That’s quite a lot to think about.”

“Yeah.”

He paused. “What can I do to help you rest?”

“Unless you can shut my brain off, there is not much you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Just hold me a little longer.”

“I’ll always hold you.”

“I know, and that’s why I love you.”

Matt smiled, pulling her even closer, almost impossibly so, and pressed his lip to where he could reach her temple. She reached out to hold his cheek, her eyes closing again. She stroked over his stubble and the slight flush on his cheeks from feeling her touch so gently on his sensitive skin. 

“I love you too,” he said then. 

She mustered a smile just for him and craned her neck so she could kiss his lips, her hand never wavering when it came to stroke his cheek. 

“We’ll find a way to get through this, sweetheart, I promise you.”

“You really promise?” she asked, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. They glistened in the soft yellow light of the ceiling lamp that mixed with the colors of the ads that played on the billboard as clear as day. 

He nodded, using what little space he had left to return the gesture and stroke her cheekbone with his thumb. The calloused tip felt good against her heated skin and she sighed again. 

“I promise,” he said. 

She had to hold on to that promise. He promised they would find a way and she chose to believe it because if she didn’t, the fear would eat her alive. 

Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar (& if you want to be added too, fill out this form!)

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #hurt/comfort #mental health awareness #foreigner's god #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #reader insert #ofc #charlie cox #marvel #happy hogan #matt murdock x female!oc #human disaster matt murdock

[greensparty]

Stuff I’m Looking Forward to in May

May is among my favorite months of the year! In addition to Eid al-Fitr (May 1-2), Cinco de Mayo (May 5), Mother’s Day (May 8) and Memorial Day (May 30) as well as the currently-in-progress Independent Film Festival Boston (April 27 - May 4), here is what’s on my radar:

Movies:

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

I thought the first Doctor Strange movie was fine, but I’m excited about this new MCU flick mainly because of director Sam Raimi, who hasn’t done a super hero movie since his Spider-Man trilogy with Tobey Maguire. Opens 5/6.

TV:

The Pentaverate

You have to go all the way back to The Love Guru in 2008 to find the last time Mike Myers had a project he created, wrote, produced and starred in. Which is what makes this mini-series he created and played multiple parts in so exciting. Premieres 5/5 on Netflix.

The Kids in the Hall 

The Canadian comedy group rose to fame with their sketch comedy show that aired from 1988 to 1995. I used to watch it on CBS and HBO as a teen. Since their 1996 movie Brain Candy, they have reunited here and there, but it is incredibly exciting have the 5 original cast members returning for a limited series on Amazon Prime Video, premiering 5/13.

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Ewan McGregor is returning to the role of Obi-Wan Kenobi that he played in Star Wars episodes 1-3. This mini-series is set ten years after episode 3 and ten years before episode 4. Also appearing on this series is Hayden Christiensen as Darth Vader. Premieres 5/27 on Disney +.

Stranger Things 

The Duffer Brothers’ 1980s sci-fi horror series was my #6 TV Show of the 2010s. Season 4 premieres 5/27 on Netflix.

Music:

Arcade Fire We 

Arcade Fire are one of my favorite bands on the planet! I named their 2010 album The Suburbs my #1 Album of the 2010s and I’m super excited abut their new album. Founding member Will Butler recorded this album with the band before he left the band and it is co-produced by Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich. Album drops 5/6.

The Smile A Light for Attracting Attention

Radiohead’s Thom Yorke and Johnny Greenwood have formed a side project with Son of Kemet’s Tom Skinner. I’ve been digging a lot of the Radiohead solo and side projects in the last few years and the songs that The Smile have released have, well attracted my attention! Digital release drops 5/13.

Florence + The Machine Dance Fever

I have liked all of Flo + the Machine’s albums and their 5th album drops 5/13!

Liam Gallagher C’mon You Know 

The former Oasis singer has been super prolific in recent years and in some cases he has exceeded his brother Noel’s post-Oasis work too. I was a big fan of Liam’s 2017 album As You Were. The new one features some collaborations with Dave Grohl too. New album drops 5/27.

Wilco Cruel Country

The 12th album from Wilco is a full return to country for the band. Since their excellent 2019 album Ode to Joy, I’ve actually gone back and picked up several of their previous albums, so I’m psyched for this new double album, which drops 5/27.

In a Category All Its Own:

my Birthday on 5/20

time to celebrate!

#stuff i'm looking forward to #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #sam raimi #the pentaverate #mike myers #the kids in the hall #obi-wan kenobi #stranger things #Arcade Fire #the smile #Thom Yorke #jonny greenwood #florence + the machine #liam gallagher #wilco #film geek #tv #music nerd

[sophietv]

The Ultimate Thread Of Koincidences (2020) Part 2

Ok, I exceeded the pictures limit. So here's part two of all the Koincidences I could find for 2020.

If you haven't seen the other part, I highly suggest you do before reading this one:

Fall of 2019 (X)

2020 Part 1 (X)

As always, I'll include links to posts about specific part of Kaylor Lore to give more context. So when there's a (X) beside something it's to give you more information and help you understand better.

July 23rd:

Where we left off.

Karlie also posted that day a video for Kode With Klossy with a code. And in the code you can read really well : "Easter Egg"

July 24th:

Folklore is out.

So many references to Karlie in there.

But two things worth mentioning:

That line.

Source: Kwyw

And the fact that baby is the 13th word after Levi in cardigan:

Also. Shoutout to the Cardigan's merch that has three stars just like Karlie's Express bomber's jacket (from 2017).

Thanks Vegasborn on Twitter for finding this.

Another thing worth mentioning is that in Big Sur, there's a vineyard called Folktale and the font is really close to Folklore's.

Still July 24th

Kimby post a bunch of pictures of Big Sur on Instagram

July 25th:

Kimby likes a Folklore meme on Instagram:

AND

Karlie likes a post of Christian Siriano that says that mentions Taylor.

ALSO

This is the day of the infamous : "OMG did you just called me "daddy"?" tweet.

July 26th:

Martha Hunt does a post wearring a Cardigan with the caption "Peter losing Wendy"

Karlie liked that post

July 27th:

Derek did a post about Cardigan on Twitter. (I can no longer find it).

July 30th

Taylor comment a tweet with two fairies emojis....

Just like Karlie's caption on her post dancing in a Cardigan, 13 days before Folklore's release...

Also.

Karlie does a post on Twitter wich is a recall of a 2015 photoshoot, where she posed as Betty Crocker...

With the caption:

August 2020:

August 3rd:

Karlie's Birthday. Exile becomes a Radio single.

This is one of the two tracks where William Bowery has writting credits.

August 17th:

Betty becomes a radio single.

Still in Karlie's birthday month.

It's the second track where William Bowery has writting credits on.

August 18th:

The Lakes official lyrics video is out.

"I don't belong, and my beloved neither do you"

August 20th

Karlie does a YouTube video on Klossy.

Lots to unpack in this video.

Let's start with how it tied to The Lakes and those lyrics.

One of the books she presents is nammed "Beloved".

Also. Behind her, the firs clok on the wall is the same as the clock in Cardigan's MV, without the mechanism and glass.

And another very cute Koincidence is this:

Novembre 2020:

Novembre 13th:

Taylor has her Musicians on Musicians interview with Paul McCartney. (X)

So many interesting things in that interview...

We learn that Taylor was in LA when lockdown happened... and so was Karlie.

2. This whole part about Peace. She is litteraly describing her relationship with Karlie and the Love Blackout.

Swift: That’s the best. I want to hear current things, too, to update me on where the artist is. I was wondering about lyrics, and where you were lyrically when you were making this record. Because when I was making Folklore, I went lyrically in a total direction of escapism and romanticism. And I wrote songs imagining I was, like, a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair [laughs]. I was completely …

McCartney: Was this “I want to give you a child”? Is that one of the lines?

Swift: Oh, that’s a song called “Peace.”

McCartney: “Peace,” I like that one.

Swift: “Peace” is actually more rooted in my personal life. I know you have done a really excellent job of this in your personal life: carving out a human life within a public life, and how scary that can be when you do fall in love and you meet someone, especially if you’ve met someone who has a very grounded, normal way of living. I, oftentimes, in my anxieties, can control how I am as a person and how normal I act and rationalize things, but I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and what they do and if they follow our car and if they interrupt our lives. I can’t control if there’s going to be a fake weird headline about us in the news tomorrow.

McCartney: So how does that go? Does your partner sympathize with that and understand?

Swift: Oh, absolutely.

McCartney: They have to, don’t they?

Swift: But I think that in knowing him and being in the relationship I am in now, I have definitely made decisions that have made my life feel more like a real life and less like just a storyline to be commented on in tabloids. Whether that’s deciding where to live, who to hang out with, when to not take a picture — the idea of privacy feels so strange to try to explain, but it’s really just trying to find bits of normalcy. That’s what that song “Peace” is talking about. Like, would it be enough if I could never fully achieve the normalcy that we both crave? Stella always tells me that she had as normal a childhood as she could ever hope for under the circumstances.

3. That part where Taylor has many questions about fame and having kids.

Swift: Did that give you a lot of anxiety when you had kids, when you felt like all this pressure that’s been put on me is spilling over onto them, that they didn’t sign up for it? Was that hard for you?

Novembre 17th:

Karlie announces her pregnancy online.

She also wears the Amulette de Cartier.

Novembre 22nd:

Taylor does the biggest lie of all time.

There's also the Swift-Kloss Family Crest in the frame on the table.

VERY important piece of Kaylor Lore (X)

Novembre 24th:

Did Karlie just announced the first re-record? (she did announce Folklore in advance as well as Midnights and Speak Now and so much more).

Also eye theory.

Novembre 25th:

Long Pond Studio Session is released on Disney +

There's A LOT of hints to Karlie in there:

She wears the same boots that she wore at Big Sur.

She wears a ring called "Soleil" (sun).

Almost the same as she wore in Cardigan MV

And she wears a daisy shirt

Another interesting thing. Is that part where she talks about who William Bowery is.

And Jack is like : "I thought you were doing a bit when you said "Joe and I wrote a song"... I thought it was gonna be like when people write cute songs about their animals "

Karlie's dog is nammed Joe...

Decembre 2020:

Decembre 1st:

Spotify wrap is out. And in Taylor's there's two adult cats and a baby cat.

And a post-it saying : It still feels like March.

(Levi was born on March 11th)

Also the post it seems to point where the possible due date.

The Grammy's were pushed back only in January, so she had no way to know they would happen in March yet.

Source: KwYw

There you have it! All the Koincidences I could find for 2020.

If there's some missing, don't hesitate to tell me so I can add it.

Here's the two masterposts that hepled me make this one: (X) (X)

#lsk #kaylor #koicidences #Youtube

[lumpystonerprincess]

Late night post because I can’t sleep because I fucked up

I was an addict. It started slow, but fast at the same time. I tried coke and didn’t mind it. Had the opportunity to start selling and figured, if I’m gonna do it, I might as well make it at least profitable. So I did. As time went on I still only used recreationally and profit was my main focus, it still wasn’t an issue and as long as I made money I didn’t care if I even sold what I intended to use. That rolled into a new focus. All my friends around me did it, and I wanted to make sure they were getting stuff that was cut to hell. Shit is scary and even I knew that. And I didn’t wanna put something that could land me in the hospital or worse the ground up my nose, let alone my friends. I’m all for recreational use because everyone’s got a vice. And if you use and are smart about it, just as with pot or alcohol, then you do you. At least you’re conscious about your choices. To me it was a better option that the meth or heroin I saw first hand destroy so many people around me. So I did things differently. I kept striving to find a better supplier, Less cut product. Because then at least I knew who I sold to, could have something with as little risk as I could find. A supply I trusted, and that I could cut myself, with a cut I knew was safe. (Powdered benzocaine because people always love the numbing effect, though I knew most of the numbing comes from the cut people put into it. So at least I could at least TELL you EXACTLY what it was cut with.) and I found that supplier. Had an established business arrangement and was selling more than I ever could have imagined. Went from buying and flipping grams and balls, to consistently flipping an ounce every two weeks.

But the thing about selling is, you test the product, you do taster bumps with people to entice a sale, you use your personal to stay up and party late to get as many sales as possible. You have access at all times to however much you wanna do. And I always kept my personal uncut because frankly I liked the drip, I didn’t care for the numbing. And I had friends hooked on meth, so I was trying to supply them with coke instead in hopes the kick because why buy that when I’ll share this with you for free right?

And before I knew it I was using every day, all day, and double on weekends. So much my nose was all fucked and I couldn’t even get it up there anymore. So stop right? Seems logical?

I was still more conscientious than the fiends around me. I was able to keep it under wraps from my family, still held a good high paying full time job, still was ensuring my profits far exceeded my own use, hell if I felt someone was buying too much from me I’d stop supplying them for a bit and tell them to slow down. No judgement of course just looking out for them and their well being, didn’t want them blowing too much money because they have responsibilities, they were friends with jobs and houses and bill and kids even. Even parents need to let loose here and there. And if they did and I was around I didn’t mind. I’d make sure it was kept away from the kids, made sure everything was wiped down and clean too so after the party was done I knew they still wouldn’t get exposed even by accident.

But back to my nose, concerned as I was for everyone else around me, I’d been doing so much my preferred way of use was no longer an option. Seemed like a good reason to at least step back from personal use. But no, it was too much a part of my daily routine. So instead I decided to smoke it. Make my personal stash into foils and keep going. (Mind you, only thing I ever smoked before was cigs and weed. I had a hard limit on ANYTHING harder than coke. Absolutely no meth, no crack, no heroin. Nothing) but how else was I gonna do coke if I couldn’t snort it. So there I was smoking fucking foils to get my fix. I’d stooped that low in my own addiction. And I just kept going.

By some miracle. No not some miracle, my saving grace. My best friend got me to open my eyes. She didn’t do coke but she knew I did, she never judged me when I told her I tried it, she simply said this “do what you want to do, but I’ll only tell you this once, if I think you get too deep, out of love I will tell your mom” and I knew she meant that, because she would let me do whatever I wanted, but at the end of the day she cared about my well being above anything.

So when it got bad bad, and she didn’t know the full extent of it even but she knew enough, she texted me. It’d been god knows how long since I’d seen my goddaughter, because she knew I would never come around her high. She said “your goddaughter misses you, sober up” I knew that was my warning. Get it together on my own, or she was going to my mom to force me to get it together.

I was so deep in, at a level most can’t come back from, especially not on their own. Extensive inpatient rehab by force deep. But I knew that wasn’t an option without my mom knowing and I’d already put that woman through so much that I could never risk her finding out about this, it would kill her. With that in my head some way some how and I still don’t know exactly how I managed to, I quit. Entirely. Using and selling.

Not cold turkey I’m not that good. But my friend did give me some grace and time to make changes. She knew I still had to pay off a hefty front my guy gave me because I had gotten robbed, but she kept an eye on me as I continually proved I was making progress forward. And finally I’d kicked it over the course of a year. And stayed sober for a little over a year even. She commended me for my self control and believed in me that I could do it.

I still missed it tho. Not the shitty part of course but a vice is a vice and it still was something I had enjoyed. And I’d proven to myself I COULD have self control. So I made an agreement with myself, and my best friend of course. I could use again, but STRICTLY recreationally. No more selling. And I couldn’t buy more than half a gram for a night out. And I couldn’t do it more than one night. And it couldn’t be every weekend either. And I stuck to that. Rigorously. Because if I didn’t have enough self control to stick to those rules then I just didn’t have enough self control to use at all period. As time went on I stuck to my rules, eventually got into a relationship with someone who knew I used occasionally, and he did too but very rarely so that was good for me. I only got some on the rare occasion he wanted to. It really stabled me out. Things were going really well, and then as most relationships do, it fell apart. Amid the breakup I went a little off rails, a slight bender for four days the weekend of my birthday. I bought a ball for my birthday celebration as a now single woman. But I had told my best friend and was under her watch the whole weekend so she could still accept this was how I needed to cope but still make sure it was only to go as far as the four day period and no more. And it didn’t. I was still very adamant about not falling into my old pattern. She let me be wild because she still believed I had the self control to know when to stop this time around. The birthday celebration was done, the supply was gone, and I was okay with that.

A week later I found out I was pregnant. 2 months along. Talk about panic. I felt so guilty about my birthday. But she assured me I didn’t know and can’t change the past. So the rest of my pregnancy I was stone cold sober. Did everything to make sure my little was safe inside me. And she was. She came out perfect and healthy, early but we’d already expected that. I was nowhere ready to be a mom but I was committed to still do the best I could. And I am. Still. But I also know and knew from before she was born that I’m a better mom if I can still be myself too. I’d get one night out a month to be me. To help keep my sanity. I’d go out the dinner or the bar, see friends, drink, and occasionally but not every time use again. But I still stuck to my rule. No more than half a gram, gone by the time I got home, usually just getting some because man I was tired and couldn’t stay awake past 10pm otherwise. And when my night out was done, I’d still be up the moment my little got up and was back in full time mom mode.

As time went on I’d get a few more than one night a month, still only get a half gram but friends share too so sometimes I wouldn’t even get any, for special occasions I’d splurge and get a gram. But I share too so I never do it all myself. But I always stuck to the most important of my rules. Once it’s gone it’s gone. And preferably it needs to be gone that same night (or weekend if I got it Friday but didn’t plan to actually go out until Saturday night)

And my self control hasn’t wavered. My priorities still stand above all. My daughter, my job, my well being. I commend myself that I pulled myself from such severe addiction to where I am now. And that I still am capable of using recreationally but that I have enough self awareness to understand even with self control I was an addict and I let myself get to that point and I need to be conscientious about my choice to use recreationally so it doesn’t get to that point again. I was open with my now partner about my past, and though they use with me on occasion (now it’s almost solely just for events as I really don’t go out otherwise) they let me be the one to dictate it. I purchase it, I hold it, I determine when we do it through the night, how much and how often. So that I still make sure it’s gone by the end of the evening. I even occasionally will buy more than the gram I allow for us to use, together, but only if it’s to save money because some of my friends put it ( say I want a gram but I have two more friends that want one too, I can get a ball with their money, and still have my gram and a half to get someone else to buy off me and end up making 50$ instead of spending 100$ for just our personal) but that’s ONLY if I have people collecting the extra amount as I still only allow us to have our gram for ourself and nothing more. Keeping any additional temptation to a minimum. Because that’s what I know works for me.

But of course that works for me because when it’s gone it gone as it should be. But this time it wasn’t. Instead of the ball I was getting for a wedding this past weekend, my guy gave me the wrong bag, purely by accident, instead I got double. And despite my efforts to sell the remaining 4 grams I hadn’t had pre planned buyers for by the end of the wedding, I wasn’t able to get rid of it. And I keep battling “eh it’s just extra anyway, what’s a line gonna hurt” over and over again. A battle I’m not winning. A battle I’ve continuously avoided having to even have by just NOT having anything leftover. Because as proud as i am of my self control since dragging myself from active addiction I still knew in the back of my head I cannot 100% trust myself to refrain from using if it’s available to use, so I just don’t leave any to keep using.

And here’s why. Because now it’s Wednesday morning at 3:04 am and I can’t fall asleep because I chose to keep using it, because my nose gets stuffy and runny from my use (just an after affect I usually suffer through the day after a night out as a reminder why it’s fun but only moderation because just like alcohol and hangovers, fun does come with a penance) but since I had some left, I didn’t suffer through it. Instead I found relief in its brief ability to open my sinuses back up after a line, in its ability to keep me up instead of groggy, and of course my own just crave for the taste. So every time the stuffiness gets to be too annoying, it’s right there, and another little line won’t hurt.

And usually with just one night of use, I take my last line just before bed. It opens my sinuses justtt long enough for me to be able to fall asleep because it's much harder for me to doze off with my mouth open and the amount in my system is just low enough for me to still relax my body enough to still fall asleep.

But now I've done a line, open my sinus, stuff back up, line, open, stuff back up, over and over, to the point I'm just awake still by the time it gets stuffy again, because theres too much in my system for me to doze off in my sweet spot window. And I am supposed to get up at 6 to go to work. And this is absolutely not okay to go to work with zero sleep. So yay. i fucked up and an addict is still an addict and this is a glaring reminder.

[coralhoneyrose]

what's going on with twitter? i tried looking it up but i only get goodbye twitter and twitter is dead stuff? can you explain please? thank you 🥺

Sure! My understanding is that Musk decided to enforce “rate limits” which limit how many Twitter posts a person can look at in a day before they’re no longer able to see or interact with anything anymore. At that point I believe you start getting a message that says “Rate limit exceeded” instead. And naturally, the rate limit is set much, MUCH higher for Twitter blue / verified accounts because he sucks.

He’s saying this is a temporary change and that it’s to prevent data scraping but…whether or not it’s actually temporary remains to be seen 🙃

#hope that helps! #asks #anonymous

[clanoffelidae]

bleh

trying to tell myself that this is the heaviest time of year at work, im very much still recovering from covid, im still hurt by what happened back in early december and having difficulty re-engaging with previous past times because of the associations, and am also currently trying to help a disabled friend get out of his abusive home, find a doctor who can help him, and figure out how he can sustain himself financially long-term in a way that won't make everything worse in the long run by exceeding his limitations; so it's okay that i'm not doing a whole lot of 'fun' things or being super productive, i don't have to be to begin with, but i'm still feeling pretty down at times

i think by and large i'm mostly lonely; while i see people every day at work we're all stressed to hell and back, i retreated from several social circles when the whole deal went down in early december because it was all just constant reminders of what was hurting me (which was absolutely the right call, but the end result was also that, well, now i don't talk to as many people any more :/), and hit me so bad that i really should have gone to the hospital so i've just been too tired to socialize with people both irl and online but unfortunately human brains are stupid and still demand a level of socializing and make you feel bad when you don't get it even when putting in the effort to get it would cause greater overall suffering due to physical and mental stress (i've had like maybe half a spoon since i started feeling really sick around december 22nd-23rd)

i dunno, just externalizing it, if you happen to read this it's probably cause you follow me and so by now you are probably well aware that i do that a lot lol

idk writing in a journal or personal notepad doesn't really help as much, i try to bury these types of posts a lot by not tagging them and putting them under readmores in the hopes that they'll go largely unnoticed, but i need the façade of putting it out there and making it 'public' or else it still circles to an extent; i have to at least be able to pretend i'm saying it to other people to get it out best and unfortunately i haven't been able to cognitive dissonance myself well enough for truly private rambles to help

so like i dunno, if you're reading this don't feel like this is a cry for help or really saying anything, i'm just trying to process how i feel and externalize it in the hopes the bad vibes will ease up a bit

and what sucks even more is that now i feel the need to say that haha; because what hurt me so bad back in december was that two instances of me just posting things on my blog to externalize them, untagged (tagged with commentary but not tagged to be searchable) and hidden under readmores that were just me trying to get negative feelings out in as privately a way as i could while still saying them 'publicly' because my brain is stupid and needs to at least be able to pretend it's being said to other people, were taken and used to call me immature and untrustworthy, i was given no chance to defend myself or even ask questions until i went and tracked someone else down to ask if i could ask questions, no one ever reached out to me and asked about the posts before going ahead and leveling accusations at me (and i know the posts had to go through at least four people's hands and two levels of hierarchy), not once did anyone try to inquire about these non-specific and untagged posts to see if they had the story right, and while during the subsequent conversation one of them was cleared up and apologized for (which i greatly appreciate!) not a single thing was said about the other and the second post had been me venting irrational anxieties about encountering a specific individual who had previously hurt me and when i requested that they (people who used that post to accuse me) not do that to someone again as far as i can tell i was pretty much just brushed off

like if just one person had messaged me and said they were concerned about the posts or wanted to talk to me about them i would've been happy to clear things up right there on the spot

and now i can't even make an anonymous post on my anonymous tumblr blog about the fact that i'm feeling a little down without feeling the need to defend myself for doing so because the last time i did this it was -gestures irritably and exhaustedly to text wall above-

just sucks y'all, idk

at every possible point in that situation i tried to communicate with people when it was clear there was something to communicate about, beyond that i was just externalizing feelings and attempting to make sure they were out of the way and not bothering anyone, you don't get to come in here and demand that i should have taken my vent post about completely irrational anxieties relating to an individual who has harmed me previously to you, complete strangers, instead of just non-specifically venting it and burying it because it's irrational worry and i knew that and was just trying to get it out of my head; especially when you never tried to communicate your concerns to me, as far as i knew we had resolved everything because everything had been cleared up and everyone said it was fine, the sheer hypocrisy and audacity of demanding that i bring my personal trauma and anxiety to complete fucking strangers when said strangers couldn't even be bothered to send me a single damn message related to their own concerns after, again, we had seemingly cleared everything up and everything had been smoothed over because clarifications were made and everyone said it was cool, and then i got taken by complete surprise and felt the damn floor fall away from me after an hour or two once it fully sunk in that the fucking intrusive thoughts i was trying to cope with were used as a weapon against me

like fucking thanks they were already causing me enough difficulty on their own, didn't know they could be weaponized even further, now i know i guess

'but how could anyone have known that-?' maybe if they'd fucking asked me, at literally any point, instead of taking non-specific words from a complete stranger that were not directed at anyone and deciding what they meant in their own heads

but to do a complete tonal whiplash as is my specialty i am well and truly still upset about that and still working on it (emotional processing and recovery was halted by a blast door upon contracting covid wherein i transitioned from fighting a painful emotional situation to fighting for my damn life lol), slowly picking up steam again on working through it and dragging things up back out from where they got hurriedly buried because i had other priorities like trying to continue breathing to sort through them, but as awful as it was the statements of 'i hate that this happened and am extremely hurt by it and am still processing it' and 'if this situation hadn't happened i could've well died or at the very least wound up on a ventilator and with severe lung and probably heart damage from covid so i am simultaneously extremely grateful it happened because i love living and being alive' are not mutually exclusive <3

'lynx what the FUCK do you mean it stopped you from dying or at the very least ending up on a ventilator from covid'

part of the reason the situation was so hard on me was that i had inadvertently entered withdrawal from my adhd meds, an amphetamine, and the situation resulted in that withdrawal going on for much longer than it should have (and may have sort of been the reason it started because i wound up staying up late because i was so excited due to stuff related to the situation before it went to shit and as a result overslept and missed my meds for 2 days in a row and thus started me into withdrawal); it left me struggling to stand and trembling and with a persistent headache and too weak to do much other than stumble to the kitchen for 2 minutes and then stumble back to bed

what this means: i was in severe physical distress due to amphetamine withdrawal BUT i also built up an extra stockpile of the meds i failed to take

i shortly after went up to a higher dose of my meds

i barely had enough to get me through covid

if all of this hadn't happened i would have gone into amphetamine withdrawal from an even HIGHER dose of a medication which left me struggling to stand, extremely weak, and in pain when i went into withdrawal the first time; while being sick with covid that got so severe already that i could feel stuff rattling in my chest with every breath that i was too weak to cough out, i was unable to do more than take extremely shallow breaths because the lower parts of my lungs were gummed up, and i was having to breathe at about 35-40 breaths a minute while lying down resting because if i tried to slow or deepen my breathing at all i would become dizzy from oxygen deprivation

yeah anyway the situation sucks and im still very much working on the emotional hardship it caused and figuring out what to do but on the other hand i am simultaneously extraordinarily grateful for it because whatever benevolent but chaotic entity sets up the rube goldberg machine that is my life (this is NOT the first time something like this has happened, another good example im not going to get into the details of rn is 2 months of extremely painful ear infections saved me from a therapy bill) made sure i wouldn't die or at the very least end up on a ventilator with severe lung and probably heart damage from covid 👍

and ive got that other stuff going on like i mentioned at the beginning but that's way too much an on-going thing for me to have more thoughts than 'hnnng why can't i just kidnap friend' F lol

just venting and then felt it apt to ensure the tonal whiplash of my life hits as many people as possible because if you started reading that upset vent you gotta know what happened a few weeks later because buddy. ah.

anyway living and being alive is great, i have seen the face of death before and while it has left me a much wiser and more peaceful person in the aftermath (honestly i know it doesn't seem like it from my vent posts but that's because i have chronic can't shut up disease but at the end of it all i really only give a shit because i know that what happens to me can happen to others, if this had been something like 'yeah i got attacked by a rabid dog but it was euthanized and im getting treatment for it 's all good' you would've heard way less about it lol, it's because this is a kind of situation that ripples if that makes sense?) i really was laying there christmas night realizing the probability of me not waking up again (which is never 0) had increased by a worryingly large percentage and looking at death who was vibing on top of my chest and making it hard to breathe like '... i'm going to sleep and you better piss off while i'm in dreamland'

(not literally i mean this in a metaphorical sense)

at this rate i'm gonna have to start asking how the kids are lol

mfer's quiet tho like damn okay i'm not worth a reply i'll just go fuck myself then lol

(again, still being metaphorical here; it's one of those things where if you don't get it just let it go and if you get it you get it and also i'm so sorry do you want to talk /srs)

#this got longer than anticipated lol #feel better now tho so mission accomplished #maybe next time i can bring memes i have a few starting to bump around in my head like a window's screensaver

[lauvra]

10/10/22 diary entry, tangent style. I started and completed two paintings late this afternoon, I’m finding that I’m creating pieces I love with a lot more ease lately which is no small thing. By nature, I cannot limit myself in mediums, I aim both to become technically disciplined and to remain wildly undisciplined in curiosity. For me to be creative in a sustainably actionable way; I need to allow myself to deviate. I spoke a little to my psychologist last week about having began to paint during lockdowns and having continually received support from people asking to buy from me, some from out of state, some wanting commissions, some wanting to trade, wanting to collaborate, some hooking me up with galleries, some hooking me up with public spaces for displays. The reason I brought it up is because I’ve had an issue when it comes to selling anything, not for lack of interest either side but due to this intense feeling of unworthiness and fraudulence. I told him that my concern is that once people receive a piece, maybe they’ll realise they don’t want it after-all. That if they liked my art, they must be wrong. He told me to stop thinking for people, I really appreciated that advice. I didn’t want to bring it up, but I realised why I was holding my tongue and decided to be vulnerable in the moments between getting up and leaving, and I think that 20 second window of breaking out of measurement allowed that quick line of delivery. Stop thinking for people! I’ve heard it before in relation to this same issue. There are times I find myself scrounging around my apartment looking for any loose coins to build toward a dollar and still don’t look upon the stacks of canvases against a wall as a resource. My concerns are reasonable, I’m still learning but I need to lean into the requests and support received - because it makes a lonely part of me less lonely and more connected. It’s possible this can be mutual. I finished a new book over a couple days, which is always personally satisfying to me in a deep way even if the reading comes easy. I received praise for my reading a lot when I was younger and I still hunger for it, offer it to myself. I’ve caught up on some bills, I’ve replenished my plant protein powders and frozen berries and been beginning each day with a smoothie packed with nutrients. The power is in the routine of the act as much as in its contents. I’m chubby but I’m loving my body, not enough to wear singlets and not enough to share with anybody but I finally don’t care about what that timeline should look like. I saw Tove Lo perform last month at 170 Russell, she was one of those acts for me for years that I knew I needed to experience live and my expectations were totally exceeded, the through-line here is that I listen to her latest album from beginning to end frequently and am reminded to appreciate my body for what it is. I’ve learned to love it more through painting it, especially in its least flattering embodiment. Fourth session is on Saturday, I’m going to likely keep talking like this, It’s been 11 years and it don’t look like slowin down soon because often I don’t feel real if I’m not pretending someone else is witnessing it; which I think is why I’ve never been alone this long and why I take a kinda gross amount of pride in it. Another weird perhaps pro-tip, I’ve found that my mental health has improved by muting all of my friends on social media. I see posts but I don’t see stories, because often it leads to comparison and a sense of exclusion. I’ve also noticed something alarming which is that people don’t necessarily tell each other about what’s going on in their lives, they expect everybody to see it on social media - how ironic am I, I know. This sounds like a projection, so I’ll share that I have genuinely experienced friends lashing out at me for not having viewed their apparent pleas for help and well, mostly now, I don’t - so we’ll have to have a conversation. I gotta work on my sleep routine and my alarm is set for four hours time so this is one to tackle tomorrow night.

#me #word