#Valentine's Day is a special occasion for many people

[gravitysmokeshoptulsa]

Valentine Bongs | Best Valentine's Day Love Box

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Size: 8 Inches

1Pcs Blink Lighter (Random Metallic Color) 1Pcs Formula420 (2oz) 5 Metal Screens Glass Slide Bowl with Glass DOWNSTEM Free Shipping

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Valentine's Day is a special occasion for many people, and it's a great opportunity to show your loved ones how much you care. If you're looking for a unique and thoughtful gift for a stoner in your life, a glass leaf valentine's day bong could be the perfect choice.

A glass leaf valentine's day bong is a beautiful and functional piece of art that is perfect for smoking weed. The intricate design of the glass leaf adds a touch of elegance and sophistication to the bong, making it a great gift for a loved one who appreciates the finer things in life.

Valentine's Day is a time to celebrate love, and what better way to do that than with a valentine glass leaf bong? The delicate leaf design adds a romantic touch to the bong, making it the perfect gift for your significant other. Plus, smoking weed together can be a fun and intimate activity for couples to enjoy.

Valentines Leaf pipe is another great option for a weed-themed valentine's day gift. This pipe is designed with a leaf pattern and is perfect for smoking on the go. It's small, portable and easy to use, making it a great gift for a stoner who loves to smoke on the go.

Valentine's Day gifts for stoners don't have to be boring or uninspired. A weed-themed valentine's day gift can be both thoughtful and practical, and a glass leaf valentine's day bong is a great example of that. But if you're looking for a complete set, you might want to consider a Valentine's Day Love Box.

This Love Box includes a 1Pcs Blink Torch Lighter (Random Metallic Color), 1Pcs Formula420 (2oz), 5 Metal Screens, Glass Slide Bowl with Glass DOWNSTEM. This set is perfect for any stoner who wants to enjoy a smooth and flavorful smoking experience. The Formula420 will help clean and maintain the bong, and the screens will prevent any ash or debris from getting into the bong water. The glass slide bowl with downstem are also made of high-quality materials, ensuring a smooth and comfortable smoking experience.

In conclusion, a glass leaf valentine's day bong is a beautiful and functional gift that is perfect for any stoner. It's a unique and thoughtful way to show your loved one how much you care, and it's sure to be appreciated. And if you want a complete set, the Valentine's Day Love Box is the perfect way to go. Happy Valentine's Day!

Gravity Dab Rig, Bongs and Water Pipes, The Weed Box , Stoner Box

 Carrier: USPS/UPS/FedEx.

[paintbrushnebula]

Ghostflower Headcanons

As romantic gestures, Miles loves setting up these elaborate (if a little overkill) activities for Gwen to do, whether it's a special occasion or just. whenever feels like it. They're always these elaborate treasure hunts that he'll set up for her to complete. Like for Valentine's Day--Gwen never stirs in her sleep, so he'll surround her sleeping form with lilacs and peonies all around on the bed so she can wake up basking in their scent. Then this gesture will be somehow tooled as the first clue in this elaborate scavenger hunt across several dimensions, each stop being a cute little romantic gesture like a lovely written note or souvenirs from their times together. He'll have like, puzzles that require playing music or reading scores to move forward in the hunt. And Gwen LOVES them. She likes adventures and the ones Miles orchestrates for her always involve her having to use her many talents. She kinda sees Miles' games as a sweet, fun way of staying sharp. ^_^

Miles will mindlessly rub his face against Gwen's cheek whenever when he greets her or bids her farewell after a long day. A lot of people find it a little strange lol, but know better than to judge Miles in front of Gwen. 

Ghostflower's petnames....so Miles sucks at pet names. He can't think of any good ones besides whatever he's heard his Mami say to Jeff (so just the usual "mi amor.") Mamita works for her too. But aside from that, all the typical English pet names (so like "honey," "sweetie," etc) just feel weird coming off his tongue, he thinks they're cringe and he hates saying them XD. Besides there's just something about how much he loves saying Gwen's name. He loves her name. It's like music to him. And every new time he says it makes his heart flutter more than the last. Gwen's pet names for Miles on the other hand are very... eherm...varied. Like she does use all the typical English pet names, but she'll also randomly spout some very creative names that have to do with situations they're in or objects she just saw or smth, I hope I'm explaining this right 😭 So for example, "my weighted blanket" (if they were just sleeping), or "cupcake brain," "coffee bean," "my bespeckled cheekster" or some other stupid thing she randomly comes up with on the spot XD. 

Gwen is big spoon but Miles will jump off a bridge if Hobie finds out

Lol in fact, a lot of how Gwen treats Miles (fluffy pet names, cuddling him) is stuff Miles never wants Hobie to see XD. So picture Miles melting into Gwen on the couch while she runs fingers through his hair, then Hobie walks in and Miles flings himself right out of Gwen's arms, sitting up straight and clearing his throat, "aherm, wh-whassup' man." And like, Hobie probably wouldn't even give a dang XD. But Miles feels the need to keep up this... intimidating "not some feeble gumdrop" reputation around certain spiders like Hobie, Miguel, and now Peter B, etc.

Gwen hates the heat, she always has to have the AC on or at least a fan in front of her. Sometimes both. But Miles is very sensitive to the cold. So this becomes a dilemma when they're in the same room. Then it breaks out into a back and forth "no it's okay, I can turn it off/No it's okay! I can just put on a jacket!" Eventually they'll reach a compromise: Gwen can have the AC, but she has to cuddle Miles close so he can keep warm. 

Miles likes to paint or draw on Gwen a LOT. Like it basically becomes the norm Gwen's their friends and family to see her walking around with what appears to be temporary "tattoos." Sometimes there'll be "Miles x Gwen" in graffiti-styled lettering on her shoulder, or little spider-man chibis with little speech bubbles, or a jumble of illustrations of places they've been to, lyrics from songs he likes, and just colorful geometry painted all around her arm like a tattoo sleeve, or sunflowers on her cheeks, or just random lines and shapes here and there on her knuckles, arms or jawline. Miles will paint on her whenever he has the chance, whether she's in conversation with a completely different person, or she's doing work, writing, eating-anything. She always lets him, she loves it. And when they're alone and he's drawing on her, they'll sit in a comfortable silence the whole time, it's very...entrancing for Gwen when they're alone in a quiet room and he's hardly making any noise while she feels markers and paintbrushes dancing across her skin. 

[bahrtofane]

here we go again - pt.2

pt.1, pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. but, a familair face is here to save the day

word count - 2.2k+

watch it - jude is still an ass sorrehhh. angsy angst and more angst ! ur welcome

-----

You don't know where the hell you are, what time it is. A few more minutes you're going to forget your own name and start screaming to feel something other than misery. So  much for the holiday of love. You are feeling so much love you could jump out of a plane. With no parachute. And land on a pile of rocks. 

You kick a trash can out of frustration and groan at the impact it gives your poor exposed and suffering toes. 

You can not believe the events of today. Everything keeps replaying over and over like a broken projector. The fact that he got you to dress up in your favorite special occasion floor length dress just to have it drag across the grimy dirty fucking disgusting club floor. Oh god you want him dead. 

You're deep into Birmingham nightlife by the time your senses come back to you enough to fish your phone out of your bag. The bag is a birthday gift from your mother of all people forced to be seen among that bunch of people,it makes you seeth. 

You should have known taking you to Birmingham wasn't a good idea. It made no sense in your head, why fly from Madrid to god damn Birmingham. You both live and work in Madrid? Your sweet naive mind thought he came up with something unique, something sweet. 

You groan the second your phone turns on. One too many notifications to keep up with and by the looks of it they aren't stopping anytime soon. Twitter is blowing up, you already know what it is. A bunch of low quality pixels of you entering with him and looking lost with a bunch of tacky headlines. You'll get that settled when you get home. You go to order an uber, but your phone manages to die on you miraculously. How lucky. All the times you spent trying to get a hold of Jude really drained the battery. You clench your jaw. 

Good god. You shove your phone back in your purse and keep stomping through birmingham. Shivering with each step. You didn't bring a jacket, how foolish.

You try to follow streets you think you know, but it's not going very well. There aren't very many people this far out. Leave it to fucking Jude to take you to the worlds more obscure club location. It's been about an hour since you left him at the club you think. An hour of walking through alley ways and neighborhoods that only raise the hair on the back of your neck. He couldn't even get you a ride home?

You think the last person you saw was a nurse chucking coffee at a bus station, the bus that you tried to catch but it sped away faster than your aching legs could take you. Better night than yours you're sure. You wander about trying to find at least a store open to be able to call for a taxi. 

You hear the crunch of slowing tires come up behind you, and you instantly quicken up your pace. You almost swear you hear your name shouted, but you don't stop. The second time, it's a little too clear to be mistaken for anyone else's name as the car comes to a crawl side by side to you. 

You turn on your heel harshly, “why in god's name-“ your voice dies the moment you recognize the familiar car model, and its driver. Trent. Oh.

“Get in the car." he dead pans, windows rolled at the way down, door already unlocked for you.

You wrinkle your nose, “I don't want to talk trent." 

The very last thing you need is that sorry excuse of a man to send his friend of all people to run after you and do his bidding where he fell short just hours before. This is so embarrassing it only makes you wish his car would explode. And then drive it into the club. While it's on fire. 

“I'm not letting you roam around these parts at this time, just get in." he sighs. 

You scowl, "he’s low for sending you to change my mind, after this whole fucking night why cant you leave me alone."

He gives you a look, “this has nothing to do with him, this is me. Worried for you. “

“Fuck off." you spit. 

“You’re so hard headed, just get in the damn car before someone robs you. Or worse." 

"How'd you even know I was here?" you squint at him. 

he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "i still have your location from when i picked you up for his birthday. And I heard about everything from just about everyone. "

"You have nothing else to do on valentines day?" you jab. 

He stays silent, hands wringing the steering wheel. You notice he's in what looks like pjs, Liverpool jacket thrown on top. He drove all this way for you?

You swallow your pride for a moment, hiking up your dress while you duck inside the car. Sighing in relief as the pressure is taken off your aching legs. Snapping your seatbelt over you, swinging your purse over your head and gently setting it on your lap, wiping away the tears that blur your vision. 

Your rage has turned into a simmer for now. The main goal at the moment is to just get out of these clothes and sleep till you forget what year it is. 

Trent is quiet while he lets you get comfortable, rolling up his windows backup and locking the doors. You've never sat passenger in his car before. Hell you haven't seen him in months.

“Did he touch you." he asks, turning the heater on higher.

You put your hand out in front of where the hot air blows oh so nice on your frozen hands,“What?”

“You have a bruise on the back of your arm. Did he do that? “

“No.” you sigh. 

he turns to face you, brows furrowed,“i need to know if he did. “ 

“He didn’t trent, i'm alright.'' your voice softens.

he nods, hands resting on the wheel,“where do you need to go? “

“Just take me to my hotel please."

He nods, handing you his phones to put the directions in. You watch as he takes the car out of park, making a u turn and heading out of whatever bizarre neighborhood you're in, back into the city. And  soon the freeway. Birmingham flashes by you and you try to forget the man that sits like a heavy weight in your mind.

You still wonder why Trent would make the trip all the way out just to pick you up. especially if Jude wasn't involved. You're somewhat close you suppose. The kind where you would call him a friend in a group setting, but not much more. You've spent only a couple of times truly alone. You don't know if you're that close.

 Trent has always been somewhat of a mystery to you. Few appearances and even fewer words. Jude had told you once he was shy, just taking a minute to warm up to new people. He has a habit of staring off into nothing you noticed at Judes birthday party. Always quick to snap out of it the moment eyes were on him. Oh so different from the way he plays. You've seen him now and again in highlights and clips posted on instagram. He's good, but man is he aggressive. You expect it for a defender but the man gets up in everyones space on the pitch.

A complete 180 from the way he can barely look you in the eye now. What is he thinking?

You don't let your curiosity blind you from being at least a little courteous. 

“Thank you, " you mumble, playing with the fabric of your dress, "and sorry for being a bitch.“

“Hey I don’t blame you.” he shrugs. 

You hum and leave it at that. You'll put unraveling Trent on the to do list. 

Your hotel comes into view and you thank him again for the kindness, promising to make it up to him some day. He waves you off, seeing till you're inside to leave. 

Your mind is so blurred you can barely stand anymore, every step only throws you off balance. You need your bed. Asap. Or you will fall over and die.

The hotel's heating is a welcome treat as you beeline for the elevator. The staff give you a strange look but you do NOT. have the time for any of that. Right now all you care about is getting in bed. Can this elevator hurry up? It finally comes and you lean against the metal walls when you step inside, sliding your purse lazily over you.

You all but tear your clothes off the second you make it inside your room, in a rush, wiping your makeup off while you undo your shoes, hobbling around with one foot while you dig for your pajamas. You end the night with a trip to the bathroom. Skipping on your usual night routine and just settling for a quick shower and brush of the teeth. 

Hotel covers have never felt better, warmer, safer. 

In the quiet of the room and the hum of the ac, you can't but let your thoughts consume you. Can't help but circle back to him. Why?

Why weren't you enough? Why did it have to end in fucking flames on whats supposed to be the most romantic love filled day of the year. 

You think back of every moment and piece of you shared with Jude. You remember the first time you kissed you, under the stands at his first madrid home game, clutching onto his jersey like a lifeline. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Gently holding your hand all the way back inside the building. Mumbling confessions and making you smile with every cheesy pick up line.

That jude is gone now, instead replaced by the man who you have to fight for even a second with. But are expected to drop all for. A selfish bitter man. 

It doesn't matter anymore. It's over, you can rest now and deal with the inevitable fall out as it comes. You know you're more than enough, but with the way you let yourself be treated it's hard to let yourself believe that. 

Never again though. From now, you're swearing off footballers. 

—--

You wake up as early as you can manage, getting all your things together and booking a flight out of here as soon as possible. You need to get back to madrid.

Your headache is massive as you shove the last of your things in your suitcase. You can't believe you took days off for this. Nonetheless, you need to get back. You have a team to get back to and plenty of work to get done. Real Madrid's creative department never rests does it.

Your phone has a slew of missed calls, mainly from Jude but you see a few from Trent, rather recent ones. You give him a call back but it all goes to voicemail.

The key card jams while you're locking it for the last time, it takes a hit from your hand to get the scanner working but you make it out in one piece. Smoothing your clothes down and making your way to the lobby. Sitting down for a few minutes while you confirm your flight details and triple check that you haven't forgotten anything. You hear your name and are greeted again by Trent, who's all but spriting to you. It's a little early for him to be here now isn't it. 

“Can I help you ?” 

“I'm sorry I tried calling and I couldn't answer when you called. Judes outside waiting for you. he-“

So last night really was all just a ploy from Judes end? You try to get up and far far away from him, but he stands in front of you. 

“Listen.  He told me to come and get you out there so you can talk to him and to not tell you. But obviously, I'm not. i’ll tell him you're not here yeah? Take care.”

Trent doesn't leave you with anything else, leaving in the other direction. You take this as a sign to leave while you can, grabbing one of the many taxis outside to the airport. 

—--

Trent gives Jude a scowl, “She's not there Jude, give it up. “

“I can't just lose her. “ Jude sighs, furiously typing on his phone. 

Trent rolls his yees, patience wearing thin,“You’re fucked in the head you know that? After all you’ve done to her, you still want her to come running back?”

Silence. 

“I care about you Jude I really do. But you left her walking around at 3 am with a dead phone in the middle of alleyways dude. That's not okay. “

—--

The airport has never felt lonelier, but you swallow the lump in your throat, boarding your flight home and trying to forget the man that you've come to associate it with. Madrid will be a hard place to move on in, when its walls shine with its star boy. Its halls all but cheering his name. Every corner you're bound to be reminded of him. You can do it, one way or another you won't let yourself be miserable. 

[gh-0-stcup]

Random list of things that bug me with portrayals of the Fanged Four in many fics:

Drusilla looking down on Spike/him not being "enough of a demon" for her.

Drusilla was thrilled with how Spike turned out. Seriously, look at their flashback scenes again - she adored him from the moment she set eyes on William. There are few moments of disapproval. When those happen she just looks at him with confusion and lets him get on with whatever he's doing.

Darla being (just) a materialistic ice queen. Super cold, barely any emotion outside of when there's torture or jewels involved.

Despite being very scornful of humans and sentiment, Darla was incredibly passionate and expressive. She was one of the most vibrant members of their family. This gal loved life. She could be very cold, but she was also often filled with emotion - she expressed joy, rage, sadness, even nurturing on occasion.

Darla blindly following along with Angelus or entirely letting him run the show. Often portrayed as her being too stupid/vapid to lead.

Darla was Angelus' sire. She taught him how to be who he was. She guided him along until he was able to stand on his own two feet. She was opinionated and had no problem leaving or killing him if he stepped out of line. Hell, she'd betray him just to add a bit of excitement to their lives.

The thing is, Angelus and Darla were partners. It may sometimes seem like one was letting the other have control, but their desires were almost always in sync. There didn't need to be a leader between the two of them because they were largely on the same page. That's why their relationship lasted as long as it did. I think this is one of the biggest things that gets neglected in fanfic.

Darla being less of a sadist than Angelus.

Darla was every bit as hungry as Angelus was. She egged him on, he came up with increasingly horrible forms of torture to entertain them both. It's not an accident that Valentine's Day was a very special holiday for Angelus.

Darla and Angelus being nothing but abusers to Drusilla and Spike.

There was friction between all members of the family at times. All were also shown to have some fondness for each other. Darla and Drusilla ended up being very close, as were Spike and Angelus.

Angelus (and sometimes Darla) despising everything about humanity and caring about nothing but hunting.

Angelus canonically had a good amount of appreciation for the finer things humans had created. He disliked how the Order of Aurelius lived apart from humanity in sewers, only going up to feed. He lured Darla away from the Master by promising her a better way of life, one where she could actually live.

Angelus cried at the ballet. He loved art, music, and having a good time. The two traveled the world. He's fluent in at least 10 languages, implying he had an interest in being able to communicate with people. Angelus and Darla were the OG party couple, committed to living their lives to the fullest.

Spike being disgusted by violence or having a genuine conscience pre-chip.

This shouldn't even need to be elaborated on imo. Sure, he was less into sadism than the others. But the idea that he had a shred of moral outrage over anything the other 3 did is ridiculous to me. This is the guy who gleefully hired a pedophile to torture Angelus.

Imo differences in his killing style isn't about morals or having more humanity, it's about what interests him. Like how some humans are super into football and others are like, "Ew, why? Sounds boring af."

Spike not enjoying Dru getting rough in the bedroom.

He is canonically a masochist.

[2tyongs]

[3:45 AM] stars . . .

bf!doyoung x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship,

warnings: none other than it's not really proofread!

a.n. first post oh em gee kinda nervousss! i don't see a lot of 127 fluff on here anymore so i guess i gotta do it myself 😒/hj. requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! i hope you enjoy <3 happy halloween btw 🙏🏾

doyoung never knew what love was supposed to feel like until he met you.

you were like a breath of fresh air in his life. taking his normal, mundane tasks like going grocery shopping and transforming them into something more thrilling, or making him experience new things that he would never do on his own. you had made his daily routine into something new, something beautiful.

he will always love learning more about you no matter how long you have been together; your hobbies, your favorite places, and what your favorite shows are. everything about you intrigues him and compels him to familiarize himself more and more with everything you consider to be part of yourself — past and present.

he will always listen to what you have to say, holding onto every word. even the little things that you thought never mattered or were worth remembering yourself, he remembers. he remembers the names that you had wanted to name your pet years ago, the way you don't care for certain holidays like valentine's day (he will always still make the effort to show that he loves you on these days anyway; bringing you flowers and cooking your favorite dishes so you have something to look forward to, even on the days you typically hadn't expected to before.), and the books you said you wanted to read but never got the chance to purchase. he notices when your gaze lingers on an item for too long when you're out shopping together, making a note to himself to come back and buy it for you for a special occasion coming up.

one night while the two of you were lying on the couch, you mentioned that you had always loved going stargazing when you were younger after seeing the two main characters of the movie you're watching sitting under the stars, sharing their dreams.

doyoung had made a mental note of this former interest of yours, which led the two of you to where you are right now: sitting on a soft blanket and staring at the warm night sky. you were seated in front of him, resting your back on his chest with your head on his shoulder, enthusiastically guiding his vision to all of the constellations and stars you could remember as you pointed them out the best you could.

“...that's the big dipper, but if you look closer you'll see that it's part of a constellation called the great bear," you point to the left, tracing out the pattern with your finger. "not many people know that the big dipper isn't considered a constellation." you explain softly, never taking your eyes off of the view.

doyoung doesn't mean to get distracted from your explanation, but he can't help it when you look so excited. reliving your childhood with the stars above brings you so much joy that a smile makes its way onto your face as you share your knowledge with him. he admires your beauty as you talk about the things you're passionate about, trying to etch the sight of you into his memory forever. looking at you is something that he will never get tired of. the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes cast shadows onto your face, the beauty marks that adorn your complexion.

you start to talk again until you feel his eyes gazing at you instead of the stars above. you turn to him, momentarily dazed by the amount of fondness that you can see in his eyes as he looks down at you. you smile softly, “what? why are you looking at me like that?”

doyoung smiles back, “no reason. i'm just happy.” he can tell you're not exactly pleased with his answer if the way that you raise your eyebrow at him is anything to go by.

"'just happy?' i need you to elaborate a little more, doyoung." you tease, nudging him, and glance back up at the sky.

he rolls his eyes with a smile still gracing his features, holding you closer, "i just really love being with you, hearing you talk about the things that you love, that's all." you turn to him again. you can hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes and it makes your heart melt. you're too flustered by the love you can almost see and feel exuding from him to say anything back, so you decide to continue looking at the view ahead of you instead, tracing patterns on the back of his hand.

there's a short silence until you finally break it, staring up at the sky, "i love you." you tell him, leaning your head onto his shoulder once again.

he knows that you love him. you show it every single day in the way that you make time for him and the way that you've let him become a part of your life in a way that no one else has, letting him see parts of yourself that no one else could.

"i love you too. so much." he replies, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your waist with his thumbs.

he always thinks to himself that even if he were dealt a different set of cards in his life, the stars would always align to give him the grace of being here with you. and he's more than certain that no matter what those cards looked like, there's no way he could love you any more than he does now.

doyoung knows that no amount of words or physical affection could ever be enough to express the love he feels for you. but for now, you just being there with him, letting him hold you, this will suffice just fine.

[l1tw1ck]

Spending Valentine's Day With:

Bottom FTM: Idia, Scaramouche, Satan x Top M Reader

↳ [Event]

CW: Kidnapping, Non-Con to Con, Unconscious Sex, Creampie, Face Sitting, Public Sex, Oral, Cum Swallowing

Idia

yandere Idia, breeding kink if you squint really hard

♡ You're finally here! In his house! Unconscious, vulnerable, naked, and handsome as ever. He's wanted this for weeks, and now he has you in his claws

♡ He's been doing so much to prepare for you, he hopes you like everything! He's wearing a cute lingerie set just for you! You told him white looks good on him so he knows you'll love it~~

He climbs on top of you, rubbing his clothed sex on your soft length. He kisses your unmoving lips, sloppily making out with you until he gets your cock hard. He pushes his panties to the side, planning to keep your cum inside later on, and sinks down onto your length. He throws his head back, cheeks red while hissing at the stretch. "So big.." He marvels.

You eventually wake up to the sight of Idia bouncing on your cock, his sexiness and his outfit make you lose any reason to not let this happen. Why stop him when he looks so pretty? Idia notices you're awake, his entire body heating up and turning red. "Do- do you like it?" He asks timidly while still riding your cock. You nod. "I love it." You answer, coming inside him right after as if to further validate your words.

Scaramouche

afab language, catboy scaramouche because...because,,

♡ His favorite place to sit? Your face. But you don't let him do it when he's being a brat, so he's been extra good this week

♡ You gave him a bag, promising him whatever he likes if he wears it for you. It's a special occasion, you told him. He almost slapped you when he saw what was in the bag but if it means he gets whatever he wants...

Scaramouche sits on your face, purple lace panties pushed aside with a matching top, and stockings. He has fresh bite marks all over his body, you couldn't resist with how pretty he looks. He rolls his hips on your face, drenching it with his slick. His tail manages to push your boxers down and take out your hard, leaking cock. He wraps his fuzzy tail around your length, jerking it off as your tongue works his pussy.

Scaramouche curls his toes and his tail tightens its grip on your cock as he orgasms, squirting on your face and in your mouth. He takes a while to calm down thanks to you still eating him out, but neither of you mind.

Satan

afab language

♡ He bought tickets for a retro movie that came back for Valentine's Day and you were very excited to go with him. Not because of the movie though

♡ You asked him to wear a green, frilly lingerie set for you and he agreed to it until he found out you meant underneath his clothes. It took some convincing but he eventually gave in and wore them to the movie theater

Thankfully not many people decided to watch the movie, leaving you, Satan, and a small group of people in the theater. Satan glances at your hard-on, feeling somewhat bad for being the one who causes that. He moves onto the ground and kneels in between your legs before taking out your hard length. He takes your hand and places it on his head, allowing you to guide him through it. He sighs quietly as you pet his soft hair, leaning into your touch. You gently grab his hair and bring him to your cock, he licks the tip of it before slowly enveloping it with his mouth. He bobs his head up and down, his hand sneaking down underneath his panties to ease the neediness he feels. He wishes he could just climb onto your lap and ride you.

He quickens his movements, sucking you off faster and rubbing his clit aggressively as the both of you reach your peaks. He comes in his panties, moaning as you fill his mouth with your thick load.

[blooming-dahlia]

My Dear Friend, I Love You - (Late) Valentine’s Day Special! [Riddle Rosehearts]

╰ Ace sighed heavily as the red and pink heart-shaped cards fell out of the box onto the floor. This year, he and Deuce were in charge of the special Valentine's Day mail at NRC because Riddle wanted them to do something more productive than the things they usually did. And Valentine's Day happened to be right around the corner, so as their beloved friend, you suggested they should volunteer as mailmen for that special occasion.

╰ “I had no idea the students here are so affectionate. How many are there?”

╰ “Come on, Ace. We have to sort them and deliver them to the right classes before our first lesson starts.” Deuce was already on his knees, picking up the cards from the floor and reading the classes written under the students' names. Then he started sorting them carefully, making sure nothing gets mixed up. “I could use some help, you know?”

╰ Dissatisfied and still a bit sleepy, Ace knelt down beside his friend and picked up a pink heart made of paper. This one was addressed to Idia Shroud, the housewarden of Ignihyde. A mocking laugh escaped the redhead's lips.

╰ “That’s an interesting one, let’s see what’s written here.”

╰ Suddenly, Deuce snatched the valentine out of Ace's hands and put it on the class 3-B pile. They weren't supposed to read personal things like love letters, but it was obvious that Ace didn't care. As fast as he could, he began to read the contents of another card he spotted.

╰ “Dear Vil Schoenheit, I'm free on Valentine's Day after 7 PM, so maybe we could meet and watch a movie or eat something delicious at a fancy restaurant. If you're interested, please wear your favorite high heels, I want you to step on me with them- what the hell is this?!” Ace burst out laughing like a maniac before placing the heart on the class 3-C pile.

╰ Another minute passed. Deuce still tried to concentrate on his work, while Ace continued to make ridiculous comments on almost every next letter. Some of them were indeed genuine, full of sweet words of affection, while others were more questionable and not entirely serious. Or at least Ace hoped so.

╰ Vil turned out to be the winner in terms of the amount of valentines received, which wasn't surprising. Somehow Malleus Draconia also managed to get the most cards, both from his class and dormitory. Finally, Deuce picked up the last one, which was visibly different from the others. First of all, it wasn't a heart-shaped piece of paper, but an elegantly wrapped letter. Someone definitely wanted to stand out and impress their crush, they thought. But that wasn't the only reason this valentine was intriguing. The mysterious letter was addressed to [Y/N] [L/N] of class 1-A, the non-magical student and best friend of Adeuce duo.

╰ “I don’t trust them.”

╰ Riddle read the draft of his letter once more before turning to Trey, who was standing in the doorway. The special mail was scheduled to start tomorrow and last until the early morning of Valentine's Day before Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade take the mailbox to sort the cards and finally deliver them to their addressees.

╰ The main problem was the fact that this year's mailmen weren't the most responsible people in Night Raven College, and Riddle was well aware of that. There was no way he was going to take the risk of writing an entire essay expressing his true feelings for you, not if it was going to end up in the hands of those two troublemakers.

╰ “Maybe it's time to finally give them a chance and let them do something that would prove their sense of responsibility?”

╰ “No, they will read it, I am absolutely sure.”

╰ “And that’s why you decided to write [Y/N] a love letter starting with ‘My Dear Friend’? Or maybe you’re not certain about your feelings towards them?” Trey noticed. In fact, Riddle had been struggling with his confession to you for some time, and the upcoming Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect opportunity to end that suffering. You were his first love, after all, and it was obvious that Riddle was nervous, even though he tried to act cool most of the time.

╰ He was also curious if you had made a Valentine's card for anyone. Maybe for Ace and Deuce, since they were your best friends? Or maybe a tuna-scented one for Grim? Unless... no, that couldn't be true. Riddle didn't even want to think about you being in love with someone else. He knew it was selfish of him, but he had fallen head over heels for you and there was nothing he could do about it. He had to confess before it's too late, before some other guy steals your heart.

╰ With a sigh, Riddle took a formal paper and concentrated on rewriting his letter on it. Most people cut colorful sheets of paper in the shape of a heart, but that wasn't his style. Trey went back to the kitchen some time later, allowing Riddle to bang his head against the desk in peace. Why was it so hard to confess to someone, even if it was just through a simple letter?

╰ “My Dear Friend- damn, [Y/N] just got friendzoned through a valentine.”

╰ Deuce tried hard to resist the temptation to read the card, but eventually ended up listening carefully to every word Ace read. This time there was no mocking or laughing. While reading it, they weren't quite sure if this was a love confession, since the person who wrote it seemed to think of you more as a friend than a crush. Either it was a friendzone declaration, or this person was just terrible when it comes to feelings.

╰ “I would be honored if you would accept my invitation for a cup of tea and a nice walk afterwards. Sincerely, the housewarden of Heartslabyul, Riddle Rosehearts.” Ace’s eyes widened immediately, his hands almost clenched on the letter. “No way. I mean, I know the housewarden and [Y/N] are on neutral terms, but him sending them a valentine card seems... oddly out of character.”

╰ “It looks like he's just grateful he can count on [Y/N] and nothing more, we don't need to make any serious assumptions based on what we just read. Anyway, let's just put this on the pile and wait for classes to start so we can finally deliver them and get it over with.”

╰ Meanwhile, you've entered the school building together with Grim, who's been annoying you with questions about when you're going to buy him tuna cans for Valentine's Day. He could at least try to pretend to like your gift for him, a cute sweater with "World's #1 Cutest Cat" written on it.

╰ Your first class started few minutes ago, but there was no sign of Ace and Deuce. As you pulled your textbook out of your bag, you stumbled across a nicely wrapped gift with a note attached, and immediately remembered why your friends weren't showing up. You didn't drop your valentine in the special mailbox set aside for the occasion. Instead, you put a lot of effort and love into your gift for Riddle. The worst thing that could happen now was for him to reject you. That thought was the only reason you hesitated to give it to him.

╰ The door opened and the Adeuce duo made their grand entrance. Professor Trein was about to make a comment about them being late, but Ace quickly made that impossible as he began his speech, or rather, shouting. “Class 1-A, here comes your special Valentine's Day mail! We have a lot of them because we're the best class at Night Raven College.”

╰ You watched as your friends handed out Valentine's cards to particular people. At first, you had no idea that the students at NRC celebrated Valentine's Day just like the ones at your old school. It was heartwarming to see the joy on your classmates' faces when they received their cards.

╰ And then Ace placed a card next to your textbook. You looked up at him, confusion in your eyes, but he just grinned and sat down next to Deuce, who was already reading the contents of his own valentine. What had just happened? Someone sent you a valentine? You studied it and noticed that it wasn't a regular card, but a fancy looking envelope with a letter inside. Feeling a bit uncertain, you decided to open it after classes.

╰ It wasn't surprising that Riddle didn't receive any valentine, but deep down he was hoping to see a card with your signature on his classroom desk. He should have known that this feeling was one-sided, and besides, there were no signs of your interest in him on a more romantic level. You often attended the Unbirthday Parties and even spent some time with Riddle privately. When you needed help with your studies, he was always willing to help. But Riddle was drawn to you more than he should, and it was killing him inside.

╰ You stumbled upon Riddle in the school library. At first you weren't sure if you really wanted to approach him, not after reading his letter. It was sincere and sweet, but something about it made you feel uneasy. Riddle thanked you for everything you'd done for him so far, wrote a simple compliment, emphasized the word ‘friend’ a few times, and invited you on... you didn't know if this was a date or not. You felt stupid for expecting more, knowing that Riddle was trying his best.

╰ Riddle looked at the nearby clock and realized it was time to finally leave the library and return to Heartslabyul. You had to act quickly or you would lose your only chance. Just as he got up from his seat, you threw the gift on the table, causing confusion on Riddle's face. Heartslabyul's housewarden blinked a few times and then turned around to see your cool gaze.

╰ “For you.”

╰ And that was it. Riddle didn't even manage to say a word as you ran out of the library, leaving him alone and confused. That wasn't your plan, of course, but it was now or never, right? The only thing you could do now was to hope that Riddle wouldn't think any worse of you, especially since the way you gave him the Valentine's Day gift wasn't the right one. It wouldn't be surprising if he started to ignore you after that.

╰ Opening the box, Riddle found handmade heart-shaped chocolates. He examined them to make sure everything was all right, then carefully took a bite of one. It tasted like heaven, the strawberry filling doing its job perfectly. Riddle ate another chocolate before he began to read the note attached to the box.

╰ There was no doubt that you were smarter than him. Riddle could always give you the letter in person, one in which he wasn't playing around with hiding his true feelings, instead of throwing the other one in the mailbox just because he didn't want Ace and Deuce to find out about his crush on you.

╰ “Dear Riddle. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to send you a valentine card by special mail. Instead, I wanted to do something different. Trey gladly agreed to help me make these chocolates for you, especially with your favorite flavor filling. Today is Valentine's Day, when both friends and lovers spend time together, give each other gifts, and so on. Let this gift be a reminder that you have people who love and care for you, that you deserve everything that's good and sweet in this world. And if you don't have anyone to celebrate this day with, I would love to be your valentine. Sincerely, [Y/N], your Dear Friend.”

╰ Those last three words were written with a different ink color, which made Riddle quickly realize that you had just added them, probably after reading his letter. The boy sighed, a soft red blush spreading across his face. Then he grabbed the box with the note and made his way back to the Heartslabyul dormitory, where someone special, his dear friend and valentine, was waiting for him.

It's been a long time since I posted something here, I promise to be more active from now on :D

[cherry-froggie]

will you be my valentine today?~ [headcanons]

summary — Headcanons for how some Genshin characters will spend the special day with their loved one

characters — xiao, zhongli, ayato, thoma

notes - welcome to one of those days of the year when everyone else writes about the same topic, today we will keep the trend; this is my entry to the "happy valentine's day" writing event from the @yae-publishing-house!

MASTERLIST || REQUESTS

XIAO

"A day dedicated to grating your lover with gifts and affection? Is there something special about this day that sets it apart from others?"

All Xiao ever wanted was to simply spend time in your company, free from worries or concerns, and without any distractions or interruptions that could pull you apart. He imagined the perfect Valentine's Day as not much more than a calm and serene occasion, one spent solely with his other half.

A dream that he was fully intent on achieving.

If you ever gifted him with something physical, be it a helpful tool or a small token representative of your love, he would gladly accept it before looking deeply into the windows of your soul with his eyes of vibrant amber. He would hold onto the gifted object and your hand with the most delicate touch. As the two of you exchanged kind and loving looks with one another, he was the happiest.

With a gentle whisper and the evening sun illuminating the inn, he confessed, "I only need you, not these possessions. They mean nothing to me without you by my side." He spoke with a calm smile, a hint of affection and love shimmering within his eyes. As such, he did not expect you to give him anything, not preparing a present in advance.

Do not mistake him not being the most familiar with diverse human practices as a sign that he does not care for or love you as much as you do for him; he was simply naive of the significance of the day as he only came to know about it through Verr Goldet that same morning. But rest assured that he will never forget this day ever again.

However, if you prefer a physical gift, he would take the time to teach you the intricate and delicate art of how to make a butterfly out of nothing but ordinary and simple leaves or offer the rare opportunity to walk around Liyue's vibrant and beautiful fields until he found a flower that he deemed worthy of your beauty, which he would then proudly place on your hair.

Creating something together brought a smile across his lips as he felt his heart swell with joy.

To Xiao, love was all about the memories and moments that formed between you.

ZHONGLI

"It's a day to celebrate the love in our lives and to show appreciation for the special people in it, a reminder that love is a beautiful and powerful thing, and it's important to hold on to it."

Zhongli envisioned the perfect Valentine's Day to be a day filled with leisure and relaxation. He pictured himself walking down the city's beautiful walkways while holding hands with you and talking about everything that made him smile and laugh, taking in the sights and sounds of the many stores and vendors that passed you by. The mere thought of you brought a sense of joy to his heart, and he was almost lost in thought, so much so that his mind was empty and quiet.

You would then stop off at the Wanmin restaurant, and a most delicious, mouthwatering meal awaited the two of you, accompanied by the stories the storyteller had to offer.

You would sit down, relax and slowly enjoy the food you ordered, savoring every bite you took. The peaceful atmosphere served as the perfect backdrop for a romantic conversation, one that would allow the two of you to talk about your days and reflect on the beauty of the day in a moment of affection.

As a token of his love for you, he would gift you a beautiful jade hairpin, a symbol of his devotion, a small and delicate gesture to be nothing more than a sweet surprise, one that would allow him to look on with contentment as you wore the jade hairpin with pride.

The beautifully deep and rich jade hairpin, intricately crafted, would have swirling designs that spiraled around it. It would shine in the light like morning dew, representing not just his fondness but his respect and admiration for the beauty and grace that you possessed.

It would be a rare and cherished keepsake, treasured for many years. Indeed, for a lifetime.

Zhongli is a man with both distinct and unique tastes, a person who could identify and even pinpoint things with nothing but the slightest and most faint touch.

He would not expect anything more than a good conversation and the mere act of enjoying one another's company. He was content with simply existing and coexisting with you, no matter the occasion.

If you were to gift him with something, whatever it may be, then he would be overjoyed, grateful to be in the presence of such a wonderful person and lifetime companion.

AYATO

"Love is a precious and important aspect of life. Although I find it a bit excessive to have a specific day dedicated to expressing love, the most important thing is that love is cherished and appreciated, no matter how it is done."

Valentine's Day was of great importance for Ayato since it was a perfect time to celebrate and share the love of his life while escaping from all the duties as he could focus solely on his relationship. His perfect day would be filled with happiness, laughter, and love; one filled with joy and contentment that he would never forget. He wished for this to be a time when he and you could finally connect more intimately.

Ayato would love to spend quality time with you and was nothing but excited for the experience ahead. The two of you would walk across the city's streets as he would feel himself growing in anticipation for your future together.

You stopped at various sites and landmarks, admiring the magnificence of the nature-made wonders that had been erected on the ground you were standing on. The city of Inazuma was a visual marvel to behold; one that many tourists and photographers alike flocked to just to see its natural beauty and unique landscapes.

As he stood before you, the sun's rays burst forth from behind him, illuminating his figure and highlighting his stunning beauty. With each passing moment, his silhouette grew stronger and more radiant, casting an inviting glow that seemed to envelop you in its comforting embrace. Despite the sheer majesty of his presence, there was an understated elegance to his every move, a humble grace. He stood tall and proud, with a confidence that could only be born from knowing that he was truly loved and appreciated. And as you gazed upon him, basking in the radiance of his light, you knew deep in your heart that this was the moment you would always treasure. "My dearest," he began, his voice rich and tranquil, "As we stand here, I am reminded of the many wonders and beauties of this world. And yet, you outshine them all."

You would savor the taste of joy and delight at the moment together, even when the time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Your day would be nothing but joy, and you could find yourselves in an endless state of tranquility and pleasure in one another's presence. There was no rush; you could spend day and night together if it so pleased you. It was all about loving and appreciating each other's presence in whatever way you could.

Ayato was more than grateful for the opportunity to experience such an event with someone as gracious and loving as you. He knew the memories you would make would last forever. Indeed, one thing that Ayato had always loved about you was your natural ability to make him smile so effortlessly.

He contemplated for a while what he would desire from you during this day and found that one gift that would win him over was a delicious cup of milk tea medley especially prepared by you. Such a simple and thoughtful gift would touch his heart.

To him, a gift that would be enough to bring a smile to your face was a bouquet. Nothing too grand or fancy, he just wished for a simple and considerate present; one that would be all he needed to show his deep admiration and devotion.

As the day would finally come to a close, you would sit down and partake in a delicious meal that had been lovingly and carefully prepared by Thoma's hands. He would decorate the room with candles, flowers, and an assortment of exquisite tableware so the setting would be perfect for such a special occasion. He would design the perfect meal with the utmost care, combining elegant cuisine with a gorgeous presentation. The entire scene would create an intimacy and warmth that only you could experience together, leading Ayato to feel a deep sense of overwhelming gratitude and love for you.

You would talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company over a delicious home-cooked meal, and Ayato would think back to all the times he had felt complete and satisfied while in the presence of his beloved.

THOMA

"For me, it's all about making those special to you feel valued and appreciated through small gestures with meaning behind them that touch the heart and warm it up."

Thoma was always a hopeless romantic. He was planning something big to show his love and affection for you.

One surprise he had planned was to take the entire day off from his usual daily activities to spend some time with the one he loved most. He wanted to dedicate the day to you, his much-deserved partner, and he planned to create many new and wonderful memories together.

Thoma's lovely and secret home for the local dogs and kitties is a fascinating site, and he was more than willing to show off his little slice of paradise to you. The cute kittens and the adorable pups were simply the perfect addition to the already heavenly scenery, and Thoma knew that this secret hiding spot was one he could never keep hidden from you.

You would take in the pleasing scenery around you, taking the time to appreciate the stunning natural beauty of it all and the endearing nature of the many animals that inhabited the area. The perfect blend of joy and excitement, combined with the breathtaking nature of the surrounding areas, would bring forth an unforgettable experience and a precious memory to hold onto forever.

As you walked through the countryside hand in hand, you would find yourselves in utter awe and bewilderment at the scenic Inazuman landscape. You would feel the serene breeze brush against your faces and marvel at the lush and lively green grass all around you. You would delightfully take in the fresh country air and the calming peace that awaited you. Thoma would point out the various creatures that populated and dominated the surrounding nature. You would discuss your aspirations and ideals, visions of the future, and hopes for the time ahead.

As the sun would set, Thoma would surprise you with a delicious and romantic dinner, beautifully decorated and lovingly prepared.

You knew he enjoyed escaping into the pages of a good book and finding himself lost in the world of fantasy and imagination that awaited him at the turn of every page. What better gift to give him on such a day than the new works from the Yae Publishing House?

No matter the book, he would find himself deeply invested in the plot and story, no matter how fantastical or unrealistic it may be. He would spend an entire afternoon, or even the full day, just being lost in his imagination as he read and immersed himself in a different world, a world that only existed between two covers, a world gifted from you.

His strength is as grand and unshakable as his faith in love; however, the inside of his heart is as soft and vulnerable as a small kitten. Any loving words directed toward him with such great affection will bring out a side with pleasure and tenderness. Such a proclamation may also be a little overwhelming and surprising, so he might not be able to muster up the courage to say anything in response immediately, but he will be sure to say anything to make you even redder than him.

proof read? no aaaaaaaaa im too tired im sorry i canNOT

and as you read this you think to yourself "another one? where is the epilogue for the forgotten puppet, that kaeya fic promised more than a month ago, the second part of the jealousy headcanons, the 100-follower special fanfic?" LIKE YES I KNOW I KNOW IM SORRY IM TOO MUCH OF A PERFECTIONIST I TAKE LIKE 1 OR 2 DAYS DEDICATED TO WRITE A FULL FIC

"xiao's part is now short" to contrast his height, xiao is the tallest character in the hit game genshin impact I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW I MADE THOMAS PART SO LONG (like xiao)

i'm sorry i AHAHA i need to regain my mental stability THANK YOU EVERYONE SPEND THE DAY IMPACTING GENSHIN CHARACTER'S LOVE LIVES

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Valentine’s Day, A Flying Graysons One-Shot

The following is a sort of one shot that’s just decided to come up to me on this lovely Valentine’s Day which seems appropriate enough. I don’t feel there’s really much a plot present, this is just some family based fluff for funsies sake.

It’s dedicated to my good friends @confusedhummingbird @spider-jaysart @lightdusk96 @camo-wolf @theredheaded-stuff @sbd-laytall @starlightbelle @adalineozie @discowingneckline @celaenaeiln @sillymanwithocs @mothnem and many more.

If you can leave a like, but especially reblogs and replies to this one, it’ll be greatly appreciated. I will address any to all constructive criticism and comments.

With that out of the way, on with the show….

Two pairs of feet, one clad in slippers and the other small one without anything on, very lightly padded on the carpeting of the trailer right outside the main master bedroom. Within said bedroom, was lying the third member of their troop, their little performing, their small family; she was peacefully snoring underneath the blankets draped over her, her two feet, bare with the red nail polished toes pointing upwards, mostly perfectly still, and most peculiarly a cardboard ID tag like one can find in the most morbid of places hanging off her right big toe, poking out of one end while her dark red unbraided hair was uncovered at the other. The two figures outside the room, a father and his 9 year old son, are quite prepared for such a day like this. It’s not every single day when people close to each other, like their small little family, can give each other heart shaped gifts or any other sort with that message that carries within them. The message being of “You are a person that’s always there for my heart and I cherishe you in the unique way we do”.

With Dick Grayson’s hands carefully holding the wooden dinner tray, packed with a plate covered up by the microwave bowl and besides it some utensils, napkins underneath them, and a plastic glass filled to the top with orange juice, he can jump in excitement internally as doing so for reals can risk accidentally spill that carefully prepared breakfast his father John and him have spent the better part of this earlier morning making. John though can see the excitement in his son’s bright blue eyes, the eyes of his mother, which cannot help but make him sport a gentle smile on his face as he tends lightly ruffles his son’s jet black hair, his own, to calm him a bit.

As John carefully peaks inside the bedroom with his sleeping wife, he realizes it’s time to finally carry out this little ritual he had been planning since earlier in the week. The peaceful sight of his beloved Mary ‘dead’ asleep must unfortunately come an end sooner or later. That breakfast isn’t gonna stay warm forever and she can sleep in maybe later afterwards, given it was a day off for everybody at the Circus. As such, with a tiny gesture for Dick to keep quiet until John gives him the all clear, he steps into the bedroom by himself, gently as to not wake Mary up that rudely, at least not with such loud noise.

After making soft footfalls on his slippers to the bed itself, John briefly explores a particular question; how should he wake Mary up? He can try lightly shaking her shoulder, though he can recall the many times he tried, she’d simply roll onto her side and still sleep. Stroking a free hand on her hair is another certain option though not without its own drawback of potentially Mary just further pulling up her blanket to further cover herself and resume her deep sleep. Then there’s the tried and true method of opening the blinds to their bedroom.

No, no. That’ll be rude as John can muse as both Dick and him have went through on some nights. Now that one is off of the table. Which leaves really only one option. An option, John would usually save for more very special occasions including anniversaries and Mary’s birthday. But since given everything that Dick and him had prepared for this very day, might as well go for it, which he does slowly making his way to Mary’s two bare feet poking out of the blankets with that tag around her toe.

As for explaining the mere presence of a tag meant for the recently deceased which can be found in the medical examiner’s offices and mortuaries worldwide being found here in this mere simple trailer bedroom, Mary having her father’s side of her family a majority of cousins, uncles and aunties being a friendly macabre collection of medical examiner, morticians and even the occasional grave digger would do wonders for her own sense of humor. After all, what better proof of someone being ‘Dead Asleep’ than the tags often associated with the most sincerely dead. The fact Mary writes down so many details on her tag from her date of birth, location and ‘cause’ being ‘Tending to a Son Motherly-Induced Exhaustion’ makes John chuckle very lightly underneath his breath. After all, she calls out in her motherly ways Dick and his antics, risks and quirkiness in public yet here she is with a Medical Examiner’s ID tag which came from her modest collection of tags from macabre souvenir shops across the world in a dead sleep. But John ain’t got no time for such playful calling out his beloved’s hypocrisy, he’s got to instead playfully wake her up from her breakfast.

As such, with firm yet gentle grip on the tag in his hand, John very lightly moves it not off her toe but back and forth, making the string on Mary’s toe brush up on the stem and space between it and the index toe. Soon enough, John hears the exact reaction he was hoping for as Mary began to giggle from that light brushing of the string, rather loudly. At least now John has a confirmation for his hypothesis on where Dick got such a sensitivity in his feet from. After slightly going faster and continuing for another five minutes, Mary sits upright, the blanket falling off her beautiful face and laughing up a bit. His work done, John lets the tag go, still attached to the toe while Mary catches her breath.

Once she’s finally relaxed and to her almost immediately surprise, John delivers a loving kiss to her lips, which Mary responds by fully committing to it. The two look into each other’s eyes right after finishing said kiss. Somethings like age and experience changed between them over the years but that one spark, a spark of trust, a spark of respect, a spark of love was present in their eyes and they two cannot help but admire so much, as had the years before.

Finally after a minute, Mary breaks the silence between them “I’ll admit, John, that was probably the best way to wake up to today” she says with an all too bright and gentle smile that can melt the heart of any cold roustabout. John’s heart melted almost instantly with delivering another kiss this time to his wife’s cheek.

“At least that’s something we can agree on”, John agrees with a sort of proudness and joy in his voice. It was then Mary spots a certain brush of black hair hiding behind their bedroom door. The owner of that hair giggles in excitement, his time had come.

With that, Dick lightly kicks the door open, doing a small sideways flip on both sides and finally some backwards walking before finally arriving at the bed next to his parents, tray of food perfectly intact. Such a gesture earns a hearty laugh from John align with a hair ruffle and from Mary a big side hug.

“Hey, gotta bring some flare and style into getting you from breakfast, Mom” Dick says as he puts the tray down on Mary’s laps with an absolute confident and probably to an extent a show off ish tone to him. But at least he has some right in being a show off. Finally though, that tray on her and the microwave anti-splatter bowl covering her meal, Mary takes her chance to lift said bowl off.

Even though it seems way too early for it, Mary cannot help but get slightly watery in her eyes for what was in the plate; a stack of three blueberry hotcakes, covered with maple syrup and blue cake frosting, said frosting spelling out ‘Happy Valentine’s Day! From John and Dick’ then to the sides of them, a clump of appetizing potato hashbrowns and finally a modest serving of Vanilla Greek Yogurt. Clearly, their little early waking up this beautiful morning had proved being what exactly she can enjoy. It’s a surprise sure but a pleasant one.

A sentiment she shares as while careful not to spill her food, Mary reaches over to give her two boys the biggest hug and kisses to them imaginable. A big hug the two in turn give back to her without any words needed. John and Dick look at each other with bright smiles and big wink of their eyes.

Mission accomplished. Now, time to actually eat the food since for the kitchen itself…..let’s just say they both know what Mary would have them being cleaning up for most of their day off.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 2, Episode 6

Final episode, and we're picking up the morning right after last episode. The curtains are still closed though, good for them!

Subtext: The something Simon needs to take care of is of course the situationship with Marcus.

Subtext: Real subtle music choice there, show. This is where August decides to solve the problem of Simon going to the police in his own twisted ways.

Lost in translation: August meekly asked for some changes to the speech last episode, whereas Wilhelm just changed it without asking for permission. Here's what it says, with his changes: Hillerska 120 years Your Majesty, dear mom. And dear Hillis. It's an honour to be standing here today speaking to you - not only as Crown Prince, but as your classmate. Hillerska welcomed me during a very difficult but meaningful time in my life. (He's scratched out "Eders" at the top, which is an archaic way of saying and spelling "ers", which in turn is a special version of the plural second person possessive pronoun "er", which is only used in a formal address like this.)

Lost in translation: The second cue card has more changes: Hillerska isn't just the place where we are taught to be good citizens so that in the future we can shoulder the responsibilities that has been imposed on us. It is also a home. Hillerska became a home to me, just like it was for my dear mother, and my brother before me... and for many of you. You have become family. The school motto is "take responsibility for your legacy" "feel your responsibility for the legacy", be proud of your history, pass on the traditions to the next generation.

Cinematography: The show normally only uses these fourth wall breaks to bookend each season, but all occasions have been when Wilhelm has been making a public speech or felt observed. Here he's practising a public speech, and the show uses the fourth wall break to really bring home this point.

Culture: The show says that this scene takes place just a couple of days after the Valentine's ball, which puts us in the middle of February. But we can tell by the blooming cherry tree in the background that this scene was actually shot in mid April. This is absolutely not what February looks like in the Stockholm area in Sweden, which made me super confused about the timeline.

Subtext: It absolutely is about Wilhelm, but Marcus got it completely wrong anyway, Simon doesn't like Wilhelm because he is a prince, he likes him despite him being a prince. Oh, and it's a nice touch to separate them physically with an electric fence, to really show their distance.

Subtext: No, the person who feels like a victim here is actually Marcus. He doesn't fit in with the rich kids at the school, and now he thinks that they "stole" Simon away from him. Whatever, who cares, he has served his narrative purpose, byyyeeeeee!

Subtext: Loyalty is a huge theme in this episode, so we start this cursed subplot with a nice long opening shot of the motto of the Forest Ridge house, to remind us of how important loyalty is to the upper classes.

Subtext: Everyone tries to manipulate Wilhelm by invoking his dead brother, of course August does the same.

Subtext: So why does Alexander side with August? Wilhelm actually treated Alexander like shit, he threw him under the bus to protect Simon last season, and he feigned ignorance in the first episode of this season when Alexander came back to school, which means the Forest Ridge oath doesn't mean much to him. Alexander feels completely betrayed, because Wilhelm should have been loyal to his house brothers. August on the other hand promises him loyalty. If Alexander takes the blame, then the future king of Sweden, August, will owe him a huge personal favour, and that's just worth a lot more to him and his family than the minor inconvenience of a criminal trial. He's got money, and the full backing of the royal court, he's never gonna go to jail, jail is for poor people!

Subtext: ...like Simon, and his unemployed substance-abusing dad. Simon would not be treated gently by the justice system for dealing drugs, Wilhelm can't really intervene on his behalf, and the royal court wants Simon gone, so they won't help out either, which is why August's threat is very, very real.

Subtext: August has constantly been trying to impose upper-class values on Wilhelm, all the way since season 1, and that includes all the lies and secrets and cover-ups. He truly believes rug-sweeping is the best way of handling the situation, and can't really understand why Wilhelm won't play the game like the rest of them do.

Subtext: We know that Wilhelm's love language is touch, so August touching him is a violation that he reacts very strongly to, punching his arm away.

Culture: Clay pigeon shooting or trap shooting started evolving as a sport over 150 years ago, when upper class shooting clubs realized what a bother it was having to collect a ton of live pigeons when a gentleman simply wanted to practice hunting for a bit, so they developed cheaper clay targets instead. The birds are made out of an easily breakable hard clay, and the launcher is controlled with a foot pedal. The shotgun is loaded with birdshot, which is pretty harmless for humans at long range.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to S1E1, when August told Wilhelm that they could get away with anything, including murder.

Blink and you miss it: August glances at Sara, so Detective Felice quickly figures out that it was her before she admits it.

Blink and you miss it: Simon is actually smiling and enjoying seeing August humiliated by Wilhelm.

Subtext: Also a throwback to season 1, when Sara gave Simon shit for "always wanting to give people a second chance". Now she's doing the exact same thing, and August is ironically just as unworthy of it as Sara and Simon's dad was.

Subtext: Another theme this season has been about people protecting themselves, while claiming to protect others, so here's Sara accusing August of doing exactly that.

Lost in translation: Simon says "Snälla, jag orkar inte", which can't be directly translated, because English is missing the incredibly useful Scandinavian verb orka. It means having the physical or mental strength or stamina or energy to do something. When it's negated like here, it can range in meaning from not having enough stamina to run a long race, or not having enough strength to lift something heavy, or not being able to eat more food, or not wanting to deal with a person, or not having the energy to handle a stressful situation. If you no longer orkar something, you're done, you're finished, you're too tired, you're too weak, you've had enough.

Subtext: Again, Wilhelm's love language is touch, so he's trying to comfort Simon the only way he knows.

Culture: Kaggeholms Slott, the main shooting location for the show was built in the early 1700's, so this is some kind of detail from the earliest years of the main building.

Blink and you miss it: Simon hasn't eaten a single clementine this season because Rosh has been hogging all of them!!!

Culture: Linda's tag says "Sjuksköterska" - nurse, so she obviously works in healthcare. She's also wearing scrubs, so she must have taken off directly from work to accompany Simon to the police. Also note that being a regular nurse in Sweden is a pretty low status job because you'll just be a grunt worker at some hospital or care home, so this fits the social class of the Eriksson family.

Cinematography: I think this is the last amount of colour Simon has ever worn, signalling that he's not feeling himself, he's completely defeated.

Subtext: Damn, I got hungry just looking at this food. What's going on here is that the school is hosting the royal family and treating them to a nice private fancy dinner, and they've even got their own china monogrammed with the school logo. By the bottle we can also tell that Wilhelm is being served alcohol, it's a cider from Danish Somersby. And from the background dialogue, we also learn that both his parents went to Hillerska at the same time, where they presumably met.

Subtext: If it's so important to be able to talk about your emotions, why is your son so bad at it? It couldn't be the case that he learned to suppress his feelings instead from his parents, right?

Subtext: Oh look, it's the theme of the episode yet again! In Forest Ridge the loyalty is explicit in the house motto, and it's of course a big part of the girls' house as well.

Subtext: Well that's a big fat lie, the most obvious secret is the one Stella is harbouring, but they're all keeping lots of little secrets from each other. Good thing Sara learned to keep her mouth shut at least so as not to out Stella.

Subtext: Colour theory for the show tells us that red symbolizes the love between Wilhelm and Simon, and here Wilhelm is deciding between his love for Simon, or fulfilling his royal duty. Since he's currently facing away from the red light, and looking at Erik's old cigarette case, he's leaning towards duty.

Subtext: Colour theory is in full swing over at Simon's place as well, him and Ayub are having a late night videochat about Simon having to decide between his love for Wilhelm or his principles. However, his lava lamp turns red just as the scene ends, showing us what his final decision is.

Blink and you miss it: Sara cleaned out her room and left the Manor House, but she left behind the riding pants the other girls gave her for her birthday.

Culture: If you've read my post on royal names and titles, you know that Ludvig ought to be a prince, and ought to be styled "His Royal Highness", so I'm not sure why he's consistently being referred to as Duke Ludvig in this season. Oh, and if the reigning monarch is a king, he and his queen are styled "Your Majesties" together. But if the reigning monarch is a queen, only she is styled "Your Majesty", while her husband is styled "Your Royal Highness", because blatant sexism.

Subtext: August really thought he'd be their equal for this event, but he's always being put in place and shown he is less than.

Cinematography: Spot the character who really doesn't want to be in this photo shoot!

Subtext: Back in season 1 when August said he knew everyone's name, he wasn't joking, he actually does remember people's names!

Oh, and there's a little lost in translation here as well. August says "Tack för senast", which is a ubiquitous Scandinavian politeness phrase which means "Thanks for last time". You're supposed to use this every time you talk to someone after having gone to some event together, and especially if it was something that the other person hosted and invited you to.

Blink and you miss it: Nils and Vincent are hilariously taking the absolute piss out of August for enjoying standing in the receiving line for the jubilee.

Subtext: Easy there, Don Corleone! August simply overpaid for the horse, thinking Sara would love him for yet another material thing, but what she really wanted him to do was to change and come clean about the sex tape. The horse isn't gonna sway her from leaving him.

Cinematography: As I was taking screencaps for this post, I stumbled on this scene showing Sara leaving Hillerska, but my only question is who the hell that dude is? Why is he in the shot? Why is he there? Is he an extra who is supposed to be there, or is he a random person who was just happening to wait for the real world bus right here right now? It doesn't make any sense in universe, because every goddamn adult in the vicinity is busy with the jubilee thing. Why is this guy not attending? WHO IS HE? I NEED ANSWERS!

Subtext: Through the magic of literary analysis our couple grew closer and came to understand one another better, so Simon chose to compromise his principles out of love for Wilhelm. Oh, and there totally is another way, but it requires Wilhelm to compromise his duty...

Culture: I've already gushed about how good the costuming is on this show, because Wilhelm is wearing an impeccably tailored school uniform that fits him perfectly, while Simon is wearing an ill-fitting second hand uniform. You can tell because Wilhelm's uniform is showing the correct amount of shirt sleeve outside his jacket, between one and two centimetres, while Simon's jacket is completely covering his shirt sleeves.

Subtext: This piece of perfect poetic cinema is of course a mirror to the ending of season 1 when Wilhelm tells Simon that he loves him. This time, Simon says it back for the first time.

Cinematography: I know it's a coat room and not a closet, but close enough, and when Jan-Olof tries to hurry Wilhelm along and get him to stop talking to Simon, Wilhelm responds by literally coming out of the closetcoat room, foreshadowing the end of the episode.

Subtext: Literally as the next speaker, figuratively as the next crown prince.

Subtext: Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no no! Sara hasn't talked to Simon since the shooting range scene, so she doesn't know why Simon never reported August, or that August threatened to take revenge by reporting where the drugs originally came from. I guess we need to setup some season 3 drama?

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm appears to change his mind at the exact moment the principal says "replace".

Subtext: We've seen Wilhelm struggle all season with his duty, and not being able to put on a public persona, but in this moment it's on full blast, and a look that tells August to sit the fuck down again, because this is his job, he's not gonna be replaced any time soon.

Subtext: This is one of the lines that Wilhelm added to his speech, and it's the complete opposite of what he thought of Hillerska in the very first episode, where he saw it as some kind of punishment to have to live there for three years.

Subtext: Oh look, the tradition theme™! Let's just kick it, stab it, and drown it, while the cameras are rolling!

Cinematography: Cue the camera panning to the people experiencing said mass panic.

Subtext: The MVP of the season, Boris my man, enjoying the fruits of his labour. The unsung hero we all deserved! I bet though he's been secretly plotting the downfall of the monarchy this entire time!

Subtext: Just like this song played at the end of episode 4, showing what Wilhelm was feeling, this time it shows what Simon is feeling for Wilhelm. It's also a nice parallel to season 1, where the Revolution song was used in both episode 4 and 6.

Subtext: The lyrics are a bit on the nose like most of this season, but Simon said the he loved Wilhelm, and in return Wilhelm shows Simon that he loves him, by coming out, and not keeping their relationship a secret any longer, which was the main conflict of the entire season.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm is always comparing himself to his brother and trying to live up to his memory, so after making this choice, he quickly glances skywards as if to check in with him. Yeah, you're alright kid. Erik would be so very proud of you. I'm not crying, you're crying! Damn allergies! I swear, this goddamn show. 😭😭😭

Cinematography: Finally we book-end this season as well with Wilhelm breaking the fourth wall and staring at us. But this time we see a hint of a smile as he's doing it, because this time is the first time he's really in control of his life, doing what he wants, and not just doing what he's told or what he's expected to do.

[blooming-cecilia]

secret valentine ft. diluc and venti

today’s date is something that becomes even more painfully obvious to you as you walk the path towards your first class of the day. there are more people scattered around the campus grounds, peers and couples alike exchanging gifts, the spirit of love and giving in the air.

you smile to yourself as you glance down at the extra bag of gifts you brought with you today. it’s valentine’s day today, and while you might not have a special someone in mind to spend the rest of the day with, you did plan to hang out with your friends after classes today, and you might have prepared a little something to give to each of them too. you don’t care much for the occasion itself, but it’s always nice to put smiles on the faces of people you hold dear to you, and give a little thanks for their companionship.

you continue walking to your classroom, the small smile still on your face at the nice weather and the lighthearted mood. when you arrive, you greet your classmates with a good morning! and a happy valentine’s!, thanking those who hand you any presents. you turn to your desk, finding some of your friends surrounding your desk, chattering amongst themselves at what seems like a present sitting on your desk. curiously, you approach, and they part to let you see the mysterious gift.

diluc 

all of your classmates have been wondering about the big wrapped gift on your desk. your friends were anxiously waiting for you, waiting for you to finally get to the classroom and open that giant gift. 

you were immediately dragged into the room and to your desk once they saw your head peeking out from the staircase, and when you finally opened the gift, everyone gasped.

it's a basket full of your favorite food, the really expensive kind. those pricey chocolates you'd only get as gifts from wealthier relatives? imported snacks from various countries? there’s several of those in the basket. some of them are even unfamiliar to you, which makes it all the more exciting. 

you can tell that whoever this mystery person is, they took great care in ensuring the snacks they give you are ones you really liked, or at least for the unfamiliar ones, they thought hard to think if the snack would be up to your taste. 

you can also tell that this person wanted to provide you with only high-quality items. the packaging does not have any sort of damage, each of them carefully arranged to look appealing and to avoid damage in transit.

there is no sender or any sort of indicator as to who this mysterious person is. they're careful to cover their tracks, as the card that comes with it is a simple printed graphic for valentines. included are well wishes of, i hope you enjoy my simple present. have a wonderful day., as well as your name at the end, still printed at the back. no handwriting to be seen.

despite you not knowing who this stranger is, part of you is sure that this person’s intentions are truly genuine, to only share what they could with you—despite it being more than you’ve ever been given by anyone—it was not a show of wealth as some of your friends have suggested. after all, if it was, why is their name not plastered all over the gift? 

your friends bounce off students they know of in school that may fit the bill of a mysterious rich admirer, to which you mostly tune out once they became annoying, focusing instead on the yummy snacks this person sent you. you're curious as to who this is of course, but with how many students there are in this school, it's going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. 

still, you hope that one day they find the courage to reveal themselves to you. it's only right that you give your personal thanks, and perhaps, a little something of your own to gift to them, too.

(you and your friends fail to notice the red haired man sitting at a table farther away from yours, discreetly peeking towards your seats to see you munch on your treats. he smiles to himself seeing you so obviously delighted by the tasty treats, and his mind starts to plan for yet another basket of treats…or perhaps, this time, he can give you trinkets that remind him of you now, too?)

venti

your eyes look down to your desk to find a small but quaint gift box. it’s a cardboard gift box that's dyed in your favorite colors, and has a rather elaborate design all over it. it’s secured together by a ribbon, tied into a rather complicated and intricate bow, a small tag on it with the valentines greeting, your name, and nothing else. 

whoever this person is, they’ve got an eye for style and aesthetics, and clearly paid attention to the kinds of designs you liked.

you delicately untie the bow, almost a little sad to ruin their work. you take off the lid of the box to see…

…a mixtape?

well, no, not literally of course. nobody owns a functioning cassette player anymore these days. but this person seems to be rather old-fashioned still, to gift you with two cds, along with what seems to be a worn notebook? 

you shift your focus to the two cds, setting down the notebook for now. 

you observe the cd cases, the doodles and hand drawn typography on it immediately catching your attention. it seemed to have been drawn on with permanent markers, in a variety of colors too. the cds are also written on with what each cd contains.

each case also comes with a little handwritten letter inserted in the inner part of the case. you find that there’s no name written on those letters either, just some sweet notes (perhaps the sweetest you’ve ever gotten in your life! quite the poet this one is…), and a tracklist scribbled in for you.

you safely tuck away the cds into the box when your professor walks in, the rest of the class rushing to settle down into their seats, and you try not to let your curiosity take over your mind as you turn your focus onto your professor.

you were, in fact, unable to keep your curiosity at bay. 

and neither could your friends, as they crowd around you and your ancient laptop at your usual spot outside your building. they urge you to insert the first cd into your disk drive, and you mumble to yourself about how thankful you are to yourself for keeping around the same laptop you got when you were sixteen—or rather, for being too broke to afford an upgrade.

a folder pops up when your pc processes the contents of the cd, and a list of mp3 tracks pop up, matching the tracklist written on the note in the case.

the first cd is a collection of songs that remind this person of you. it turns out to be quite a lengthy playlist, the first couple of tracks make you think that it's just some kind of prank with how generalized the songs are, but the more you listen to them, the more you find yourself in them, lyrics that apply to you and melodies exactly the way you like them.

your friends giggle and nudge you as they listen too, singing along to ones they are familiar with. 

(“hey, is this admirer of yours too broke for spotify premium? is that why they went with a cd—hey!” “c’mon it’s sweet someone did that for them! you’re just jealous your girlfriend won’t do that for you!”)

the second cd is a bit more special, as it's an album of songs this person has personally written for you, and about you. you find it a bit hard to believe that a stranger can make this many songs about you—especially when you're sure you don't have the slightest clue as to who they are. however, you're once again proven wrong when you listen to the songs. each one blows you away with how beautiful the melodies are, and the lyrics touch you so much, you can hardly believe someone even thinks of you as such.

(this of course, causes your friends to tease you even more… you’re rather flustered by both the thoughtful songs and your friends’ jokes.)

you all part ways soon after, and you only get the chance to take a peek at the notebook that comes with the cds when you get back home. you observe the worn notebook and skim through it, feeling the paper creases and indentions from the writing on each page. you quickly note that this notebook is actually your secret admirer’s thoughts and insights, both for their playlist of you and the album they wrote for you.

each track has commentary. they truly have a way with words, and you already feel so connected with this person by the stories they share about their song choices and their song writing. you smile and laugh at most of them, and even manage to tear up at some of the behind the scenes of the songs they’ve written for you. this mystery person is able to drag out such emotions from you despite the fact that you’ve never met… and now you’re certain you’ve fallen for them. or at least, you’re definitely much more intrigued by them now; you want to know more about them.

so you spend the next weeks listening to both cds over and over again. no, i’m not obsessed, you tell your friends when they notice. i’m simply enjoying the thoughtful gift this mystery person put together for me. they have good taste in music. 

you import all the songs into your phone to listen to them wherever you go, and on days you do bring your laptop, you still listen with the cds in the drive, as if it makes any difference. you constantly checking the cd’s folder like a new file will just pop up, perhaps a notepad file of more details about them…?

you feel sillier the longer this goes on. you really hope this isn’t just some ridiculously elaborate prank. the sheer audacity of this person to just drop you the most thoughtful gift, writing such wonderful stories and melodies and omit their name, aka the most important detail of all?!

you're going to find this person and give back everything they've done for you, if it's the last thing you do!

but for now…

perhaps you'll relax again and listen to that one song from their album. it's the perfectly calming track for a quick lil nap in between classes... 

(you fail to notice a head peeking behind a tree a little bit away from the one you lean against. eyes full of mirth and mischief, he giggles and coos to himself seeing you nap to one of the songs he's prepared just for you. with one last look at your peaceful sleeping face, he smiles and saunters away, slipping away before you can wake and notice him there. he's eagerly awaiting the day you'll find him, but for now, he enjoys sneaking around you and watching you pine for him.)

happy valentine's everyone! hope you enjoyed diluc and venti's gifts for you <3 if you'd like to give me a present too, perhaps a reblog would be nice? 👉👈

[sunny6677]

Soooo ramble about Tom's details just to make her a little more fleshed out!

@catsockpuppet @mayisgoingnuts @paperbagirlratlover

TWS FOR ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE, TRAUMA, DEPRESSION, VERBAL ABUSE, ETC

1. Tom is incredibly good at cooking because she was a chef for a little while until she joined her writing company.

2. Tom most likely becomes the CEO of her writing company at some point in the future. Just cuz it'd be funny to see the look on Lora and Julian's faces./lh

3. Tom's vocabulary is only so big because she's a writer.

4. Tom has Eddsworld cartoon type logic. She can extend her limbs, somehow appear or vsnidh magically, make really ugly looking faces that shouldn't even be possible, jump way too high into mid air and somehow even walk in mid-air, etc etc.

5. Tom's absurd strength has saved her many times. Had she managed to kick Bob in the face successfully during TT, she probably would have sent him crashing through buildings./lh

6. Tom is very sensitive to pain.

7. Tom's 'OHOHO!' laugh is actually kinda forced?? Well not really. Her normal laugh does sound like a giggly, goofy type of laugh that she hides just because it doesn't sound very princess-y (to her anyway).

8. Tom thinks no one will ever love her if she isn't special in some way which is another reason why she wants to be a princess so bad, but the whole princess thing is also just a thing she constantly does to distract herself from the things she's sad about—and it's also just a thing she always does because it serves as a great escapism fantasy for her. She also really wants no one to worry about her and for everyone to see her as happy, which is why she always keeps her emotions beneath a smile and eccentric behavior.

9. Her love language is gift giving, but she likes receiving physical touch from other people too since she's very touch starved.

10. Tom can play the piano and is decent at violin.

11. Tom usually exercises when she can, but her exercising has led to her punching people or hurting them whenever they've accidentally walked in on her multiple times. Because even a soft hit from her can probably be devastating./lh

12. She really does have no energy to do anything, but forces herself to do stuff anyway just to not worry those around her and because she thinks that her 'lazy attitude won't get her anywhere'.

13. She likes all animals, though dogs and cats specifically. She owns a small golden retriever puppy named Bruno (after that one dog in Cinderella/lh).

14. Her favorite alcoholic drink is champagne and also vodka.

15. She owns a lot of expensive and fancy clothes but usually never dresses up in them unless it's for something special.

16. Her favorite Holiday is Christmas, but she likes Halloween a lot more now due to Skid and Pump and goes all out for it every single year.

17. ...she canonically has a British or Transatlantic accent—unsure of what would fit more./lh

18. Her breakfast every morning typically looks very soft and fluffy—kind of like this. Kevin also absolutely loves it when she cooks because she's a former chef and she's just generally good at cooking.

19. Her typical lunch looks somewhat like this.

20. Her typical dinner looks like this.

21. Her favorite desserts are cakes (specifically angel-food cake), ice cream, and macarons. And her favorite candy is Lollipops and anything banana-flavored.

22. She literally can afford a private jet. That's how rich she is.

23. Her favorite drink in general is Hot Chocolate and also Tea (because it makes her feel princess-y).

24. Tom likes to travel a lot and invites Kevin anytime she's about to go travel. Though typically her travels are literally just excuses to get Kevin to take a break or go somewhere with her.

25. Her favorite season is summer. And she also likes to celebrate for every single occasion ever (April Fools, St Patrick's Day, Valentines Day, Autumn, Winter, Summer, etc) and goes over the top each time.

26. She's shorter than Ignacio and can also kick his ass if she wanted./lh

27. Tom unfortunately thinks that she needs to take the blame or responsibility for everything because of Buque. And she also still loves Buque even if she claims to hate her because deep down she wishes that she just had a good adoptive mother.

28. Buque slapped her really hard over the head as a kid just because she nearly got her in trouble with the police, and scared Tom so bad she hid beneath the table for 3 hours even after Buque was done yelling at her.

29. Tom's happiest memory as a kid was going to Disneyland with Jeremy and his family. A cast member there as Snow White complimented her and praised her, and something about finally hearing praise from a character she held so dearly made Tom cry right then and there.

30. Tom possibly age regresses whenever she's really upset or afraid.

31. Tom's hobbies are puzzle-building, writing, reading, running, exercising, researching, etc.

32. Tom always got really good grades when she was a kid, and is actually very intelligent even if she always acts stupid, so she got into a very good college and even got a degree.

33. Tom hates it when people yell at her or when she hears loud footsteps approaching.

34. Tom is very sweet in her own way, she just typically shows it in very absurd ways. Like buying Kevin 500 in total items of candy when she heard he had to restock but they didn't have any candy, creating a Calender that just says October for the Spookeez so they think it's always Spooky Month, etc etc.

35. Tom's favorite color is yellow. And her favorite flavor for anything is bananas.

36. Tom believes that Kevin isn't proud of her or that he doesn't see her as good enough, so that's why she always tries to impress him or make him proud.

37. Tom is actually flustered quite easily. And sometimes flirts with people without realizing./lh

[hebrewbyinbal]

In Israel, the celebration of love takes on a unique and multifaceted character, blending tradition with modern influences.

While Valentine's Day (יום אהבה) is recognized and celebrated by some, it's the Jewish holiday of Tu B'Av (ט"ו באב) that holds significant cultural and historical importance as the "Day of Love."

Valentine's Day, imported from Western culture, has gained popularity in recent years among some Israelis, especially the younger generations. It's often marked by exchanging cards, gifts, and romantic gestures, much like its counterparts around the world. However, its observance remains more subdued compared to other countries, as it doesn't carry the same historical or religious significance in Israeli culture.

On the other hand, Tu B'Av, pronounced /too be-'av/, celebrated on the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Av, has deep roots in Jewish tradition and history. Historically, it was a joyous day for matchmaking and marriages, celebrated with dances and festivities in ancient times. Today, Tu B'Av is often observed as a day of love, romance, and unity, where couples express their affection for one another through acts of kindness and love.

What sets Tu B'Av apart is its connection to the land and people of Israel. It's a celebration deeply rooted in Jewish heritage and symbolism, making it a meaningful and special occasion for many Israelis. The holiday embodies the values of love, unity, and connection, reflecting the essence of Jewish culture and tradition.

In both Tu B'Av and Valentine's, you can say Happy Day of Love, in Hebrew /yom a-ha-'vah sa-'me-akh/ יוֹם אַהֲבָה שָׂמֵחַ, which is what I wish for you, with all my heart

[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.”

__________

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[cryptid-writing]

hi there! do any romantic head canons for Doc and Mysty? Whether it’d be what they’re like domestically, what they’re like when courting, or even what their plans would be for Valentine’s Day (if you’re comfortable with that!).

Hi, sorry for taking so long to respond, I'm not that type of blog, sorry-- However, I can't deny this as we do need more of this sort of thing out there.. especially for Mysterio tbh, but I gotta preface: Sorry if this isn't too much or too good, but I did my best!

Mysterio:

Movie quotes to flirt with on any occasion (either a first thought or last resort if he ran out of original lines to say.. maybe he hopes you don't get the references-- or perhaps he is hoping that you would? all the more reason to have entertaining little talks and discussions with you~)

If he is the type, latin phrases. Whispering sweet nothings in latin to you, it's not too likely anyone would know much latin, if any at all.. he could get away with saying a lot~

This man would stumble over his words and feet to try and seduce you. He will do whatever it takes to amuse you, to make you laugh and melt like putty in his hands. Do you like magic? Movies? Musicals or plays? He is willing to share his interests.. and willing to share in yours. After all, he values what you have to say and think. You're special.

Doc Ock under the cut for length + Valentine's Answer:

Doc Ock:

To have a man find the most unique ways to speak romantically while in the same breath be scientific and logical. To use his extensive knowledge of many things to woo you. Whether he values his looks or not, he always has his intellect to impress you with. Listen there is nothing hotter than a man talking nerdy, and there is no man more fitting to talk nerdy than Doc Ock.

Those actuators he may or may not be stuck with, willingly or not.. they're good for a lot of things. and a lot of those things just so happen to be curling around his partner, lifting them a little by surprise, pulling them closer to him-- all kinda of things to amuse and impress his love. (although, he does prefer to hold his partner in his real arms rather than always wrapped in his actuators.)

It is canonical that this man has manners and etiquette. He has a way with words and has definitely had some experience in the past with people. He is not new to this, so he knows a thing or two about how to appeal to someone, but he's gotta know that it's truly mutual to take such a risk in dabbling in the world of love again.

---

The both of them I feel would absolutely take Valentine's Day seriously. Having done extensive research and observation of their partner to see what they like or enjoy, see whether they like small expressions, or grander things. And they will use that to help plan out the "perfect" date/night for them.

If their partner happens to be like them-- a rogue and risky-- they may consider a more dastardly way of celebrating the holiday with their partner. After all, what could be more romantic than committing crimes with the one you love?

(would also depend on what variant of Otto or Beck you have your eyes on, they do vary in what they would be more likely to do and leans towards)

[novelizt]

Not yet done with the Lockwood Hogwarts AU so here's a snippet from the Folklore: Peace songfic I was working on as an apology 💙

On occasion, Lockwood forgot that there were people who lived outside of the psychical realm. It's all he'd ever known, really. So, it's like stepping into a whole new world when he had to do something as typical as getting flowers before visiting the cemetery.

Ardour Flower Shop was arguably the best place to get flowers. The owner, Mr. and Mrs. Valentine, had serviced flowers for Lockwood's parents and sister's funeral way back when. All for free.

Even if they made it clear that he didn't owe them anything, Lockwood made it a point to only ever visit them if he needed flowers.

The week before, he had become an adult. He thought it was right to visit his family and tell them how he felt about it.

He ducked under Ardour's striped awning and smiled when the golden bells above the door jingled. Mr. Valentine appeared at the counter in an instant, donning a smile that could put the world at ease.

"Anthony, how are you son?"

Lockwood hummed, allowing his eyes to take in the floral arrangement Mrs. Valentine changed every week.

"I'm doing alright, Mr. V. How are you and the missus?"

"Happier," the older man chirped. He had a pep to his step and more lucid eyes. "What can I get you today?"

"Hyacinths and lavender, as usual," Lockwood shoved his hand into his pockets to begin counting his coins. "What's happened this week to make you this smiley?"

Lockwood looked up from his countings and found Mr. Valentine fetching the flowers. The man looked softer somehow. The Valentines were always soft, but Lockwood could feel something special in the air that day.

Mr. Valentine fetched a foot of twine, brown paper, and white plastic wrapper before he answered. "Our daughter's come home."

Lockwood tried not to look surprised, but he was doing a rather bad job of it. He'd known the Valentines since he was ten, and he had no clue that they had a daughter.

He cleared his throat to push down the guilt. They had done so much for him, but he didn't know that important of a fact until then.

"Really?" Lockwood chuckled, finding his sense. "How long has she been away?"

"Nine years," Mr. Valentine sighed, like he couldn't believe it had been that long. "She's a scholar. Been traveling all over the place since her mentor took her under her wing."

Lockwood raised his voice when the crunch of plastic Mr. Valentine was wrapping around the hyacinths echoed in the little shop. "That's . . . a surprisingly long time. You must be enthralled that she's finally home."

"Not 'finally' just yet."

That's when Mr. V's hands slowed by a fraction. He had gotten tangled in his thoughts. Lockwood had never seen the man falter in the many years he had known him. To say that the hiccup was concerning was putting it lightly.

"Why is that?" Lockwood asked. Nine years of just study . . . he assumed that would make you a genius.

Mr. V smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "She's only here for half a year before she has to resume her studies."

"I see," Lockwood turned the coins in his palm, unsure of what to say next. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't worry yourself, Anthony. We're used to it, she's used to it. All I'm concerned about is her lack of enjoyment. Her teacher is a dementor, if I'd ever seen one." Mr. V wrapped up the lavender twice as fast, returning to his usual level of chipperness. "She's your age, you know. You've got George and Lucy with you. My girl doesn't have friends like that."

"Shame..."

"I know," Mr. V grinned even wider as he slid the finished bundles across the counter. "I was thinking that you could do me a favor, son."

Lockwood took the brown paper and plastic bundles before placing his money in Mr. Valentine's hands. "Anything, Mr. V."

Mr. Valentine deposited the cash into the register before turning to Lockwood will full-fledged attention. "Could you make friends with my girl? Just while she's here. I want her to feel normal. And don't tell her I asked. She's just like her mother in that sense — stubborn, refusing to accept help. It's cute, but they're too hard-headed for their own good sometimes."

Lockwood righted his smile, nodding lightly. "Will do, sir."

"I'll hold you to it then," Mr. V set his elbows on the counter, waving Lockwood goodbye. Before the bell jingled once more, he added, "She'll be manning the store on Friday!"

"I won't forget!"