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nestasgalpal · 3 years

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Walk me through it [Nessian fic]

Fixing ACOSF part 5

Masterlist | AO3

Summary: Cassian accompanies Nesta to the cottage in the Mortal Lands where she and her sisters used to live, so she can get closure.

Tagging: @gwynriel @rhaenystargaryn @clolikescloquetas @amelievrstr @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector @lordlorcan @esrahiba @queenestarcheron @ko0mbayamylord @jemstan300 @nessiantrashh @mothergwyn @poisonus-bloom @loveadora @frosted-crackers @mireillemystique @pataytayo @968sunflower968 @caram267 @jainadurron @darkshadowqueensrule @amphiptree @finae-bookshelf @niytavia @brainlessfruit @dontgetsalmonella @messyhairday-me @sunsummoner @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @wannawriteyouabook @psychoticminx @misswonderflower

N/A: Sorry I erased the comment about Feyre painting the cabin in Illyria but I didn’t get what that had to do with anything lol.

Nesta’s heart thundered as she laid a hand against the cold wooden door. Claw marks still gouged it.

“Tamlin’s handiwork, I take it?” Cassian asked behind her.

Nesta shrugged, unable to find the words. She and Elain had rehung the door after Tamlin had broken it. Their father, his leg wrecked beyond repair and unable to bear weight, had watched them, offering unhelpful advice.

Her fingers curled into a fist and she shouldered the door open. Its rusted hinges objected, creaking, and a dusty, half-rotten scent swarmed her nose. Her cheeks heated. For Cassian to be here, to see this—

“Just a brute, remember?” He stepped to her side. “I’ve lived in far worse. At least you had walls and a roof.”

Nesta hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words, and her shoulders loosened as she stepped into the cottage proper. In the chill dimness, broken only by rays of sunlight, she frowned at the ceiling. “This house used to have a roof.” The damage had let in all manner of creatures and weather—the former had made themselves comfortable, judging by the nests and various scattered droppings.

Nesta’s mouth turned dry. This horrible, awful, dark place.

She couldn’t stop her shaking.

Cassian laid a hand on her shoulder. “Walk me through it.”

She couldn’t. Couldn’t find the words.

He pointed to a long worktable. One leg had collapsed, and the whole thing lay at a slant. “You ate here?”

She nodded. They’d eaten here, some meals in silence, some with her and Elain trying to fill the quiet with their idle chatter, some with her and Feyre at each other’s throats. Like those last meals they’d had with her in this house.

Nesta’s stare drifted to the paint flaking off the walls. The intricate little designs. Cassian followed her stare. “Did Feyre paint that?”

Nesta swallowed, and managed to get out, “She painted every chance she got. Any extra coin she managed to save went toward paints.”

Except for that one time she saved enough to get flower seeds for Elain.

Her two sisters had somehow found a way of keeping themselves entertained. Feyre spend every minute she could out of the house. She had to go hunting for food, but even in the summer and the spring, when they had plenty, she made excuses to be away from them. Isaac Hale had been there to help her get distracted, but Nesta knew Feyre didn’t find time for him just for the sex. Feyre had wanted to be far from them, sitting in the meadows, practicing knots or whatever she did when she went away.

She only stayed in the cabin when she had paint. She had found happiness in that —and so had Elain in her little garden.

As much happiness as they could, in a place like this.

But Nesta never did. She had never wanted to.

She had barely wanted to survive.

As if he had felt the air around her shift, Cassian took a step closer, his chest close enough to her back that Nesta could feel the heat he irradiated in the bare skin of her nape. He was there for her, to be a pillar she could lean against if she needed to —to support her.

A calloused hand brushed against hers, the touch so soft and careful, Nesta almost didn’t feel it. He gave her hand a tug, but Nesta didn’t take it. Not yet. Only when she really needed his touch to bear what they were doing in this place, she would take his hand. She would try to do this on her own first.

Cassian aimed for the bedroom. Nesta followed him, and gods, it was so cramped and dark and smelly. The bed was still covered with its stained linens. The three of them had slept here for years.

Cassian ran a hand over the painted dresser, marveling. “Feyre really did paint stars for herself before she knew Rhys was her mate. Before she knew he existed.” His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. “Elain’s drawer.” They drifted lower, curling over a lick of flame. “And yours.”

Nesta managed a grunt of confirmation, her chest tight to the point of pain. There in the corner sat a pair of worn, half-rotted shoes. Her shoes. One of them was bursting at the toe’s seam. She’d worn those shoes —in public. Could still remember mud and stones creeping in.

She had asked for new ones, and that had leaded them into an argument too. Feyre didn’t understand the shame Nesta felt when she walked around wearing that in her feet —as far as she knew, Feyre didn’t even remember what their life used to be like before that village; she had known nothing else. But Nesta had, and even while they starved, she still refused to let go of the life she had once enjoyed. The silks, the pearls, the luxuries she had been surrounded by when growing up. She hadn't been raised but rather crafted by her mother and tutors to belong in palaces and great halls. No, she had been forged to thrive among dozens of other rich heiresses who shared her same goal. She had become that. And then, her world crumpled down to become this.

There were wholes in the lower parts of the rotten wood panels big enough for a small rodent to get inside the house that hadn't been there while her family inhabited the space. Nesta felt sick in her stomach, just as she had when she came inside the cabin for the first time and realized it was likely to be the place where she died. No castle and no prince awaited in her future.

She had never found a way to explain to Feyre what it was like for her. Nesta was quick with words, fast coming up with the perfect answer to make everyone wary of her, make them stay away. But when it came to opening up and risking showing vulnerability, she realized, she had never learned how to do it.

She could only hide. She could only hurt.

And Feyre never made it easy either. It was so hard for Nesta to talk to her —to anyone, but specially to her little sister. Whenever they clashed against each other, she felt judged by someone who didn't even know her. Every time, Nesta let pride win and burn bridges between them, instead of trying to explain herself to a person who wouldn't even wait and listen before she decided Nesta was too much of a brat to deserve the benefit of the doubt. Feyre never considered that there might have been a reason for her to feel and act the way she did, even if it was not the right path. Because Feyre couldn't come up with any, and fooled by her own pride, thinking herself smarter because she was able to function and Nesta was not, she concluded that there wasn't a reason in the world for Nesta to just let time consume her instead of stepping in.

She hated that, and resented Feyre for years. Because they were the same. Two side of the same coin battling to stay on top once it fell to the ground. For years, Nesta felt like the only way to win, was to make sure Feyre lost.

Every day, it grew bigger —her resentment towards her. For being able to overcome difficulties she could not. Towards their father, who saw his daughters fight one another and starve and didn't get up from his chair once to try... anything. And resentment towards herself. She got carried away by it, every emotion she felt mixing together and forming a ball of anger in her guts that burned so violently that Nesta could no longer tell what was going on.

She saw red all the time, and burned with it. Burned anyone that dared come close.

Lost in her memories of how fighting had been more abundant than food, Nesta almost forgot Cassian was there too. Her eyes had gotten caught up on the torn shoes. They were such a perfect example of how her life used to be —how they had so little, that every single thing could become the reason for a night's worth of arguing... Nesta told him the story.

"Deep down I knew that saving the money was more important, that those boots could last a few more weeks. That would give Feyre time to get more money. But I pushed the logic down and picked the fight regardless" She had hated that those shoes had been a working pair to their new family standards when not so long ago only the finest leather slippers touched her feet.

Nesta looked around the room, to the bed she and her sisters had shared. “That bed in there … I was born in that bed. My mother died in that bed.”

Her mother’s death. She remembered that as well. Too vividly still.

"My father refused to send men into fae territory looking for a cure for her". And just like him, Nesta had refused to help when they lived in the cottage. Had refused to do what she thought was a servant’s work, thinking that death was better than the shame of loosing her status. "I hated him for that."

She had been so mad at him for not even trying, that she thought she ought to do the same thing. If their father didn’t do anything, she would do even less. To her, Feyre had been only collateral damage. She was willing to sacrifice her little sister’s safety for her own. That’s what she had seen others do with her before. It had been so wrong —but Nesta hadn’t realized it until it was too late for all of them.

She hated her younger self, now that there was nothing for her to do. Now that her sisters no longer needed her to step in.

She hated that she had been so wrong, so blind.

She hated that she failed at being smarter than the adults in her life.

She hated how much time and effort she had put into hating her father and not caring about Feyre only for them to be the ones saving her in the end. How was she supposed to find peace, when she had spend years being consumed by the anger his passivity ignited in her, only for him to finally be there to help when she needed him the most? How did everyone expect her to be able to deal with that when she had failed miserably at simpler tasks?

Nesta wanted to forgive her father. To forgive him and be hugged by him. Nesta wanted to finally have by her side the father she had so desperately needed her entire life.

But when he came to her and proved that his love was true and knew no limits —that he only needed a second chance, he was killed before her eyes. How could she forgive him now, when he had died before she got a chance to let him know that she understood. That she had done the same thing to others, and she understood. She knew. And she was willing to give him the second chance he wanted to do everything again, but this time right.

Her heart thundered, and she walked out of the room, back into the main space. She didn’t mean to, but she looked toward the dark fireplace. Toward the mantel.

Her father’s wood figurines lay atop it, thickly coated with dust and cobwebs. Some had been knocked over, presumably by whatever creatures now lived here.

That familiar roaring filled her ears, and Nesta’s steps thudded too loudly on the dusty floorboards as she approached the fireplace. A carving of a rearing bear —no bigger than her fist —sat in the center. Nesta’s fingers shook as she picked it up and blew off the dust.

“He had some skill,” Cassian said quietly.

“Not enough,” Nesta said, setting the bear back onto the stone mantel. She was going to vomit.

No. She could master this. Master herself. And face what lay before her. Only then she would be able to face what she had left behind —her past.

She inhaled through her nose. Exhaled through her mouth. Counted the breaths.

Cassian stood beside her through all of it. Not speaking, not touching. Just there, should she need him. Her friend —whom she’d asked to come here with her not because he was sharing her bed, but because she wanted him here. His steadiness and kindness and understanding.

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Did he ever make any for you?”

“He knew better than to do that.” She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. “I think he would have, if I’d given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but … I never did. I was too angry.”

She finally voiced it —Why she had behaved like that for so many years. Cassian probably knew already, but she had needed to let it out. She had been angry. She had felt abandoned. She didn’t know what to do to keep floating against the current like her sisters did with her hobbies and new-found friends in the village.

Nesta only felt anger at everyone and everything.

“You’d had your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.”

“That’s not what you told me the first time we met.” She pivoted to find him arching a brow. She could go back and picture that day. He was a giant in her hall, tall even among the rest of the fae Feyre had brought with her. A dormant part of her human conscience, an instinct, reminded her how dangerous his kind was. But she had never felt intimidated. Not by him. Not really.

Just a worthy opponent.

“You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.”

“I didn’t say it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

Cassian’s gaze pierced through her. She squared her shoulders, turning to the small, broken cot in the shadows beyond the fireplace, thinking he wouldn’t reply.

“Can I still take that back?” Cassian was halted where she left him. The space was not big enough for them to be far from each other, but it certainly felt like it. A chill breeze came through a chink in the wall behind her, fluttering the bottom of her cloak and finding there the bare skin of her ankles.

Would you forgive me? He was asking. Or maybe not. Maybe he simply wanted her to pretend his words had never left his lips. Can we pretend it didn’t happen? She only had to turn around and face his burning gaze to know, but she didn’t.

Yes, Nesta wanted to tell him. Please, go back and never open my eyes to make me see what I did to my sister. Don’t let the truth of my actions ever get to me.

Nesta had always been aware of everything surrounding her, always known who she could trust, who was a tool for her to use, what buttons to push to get what she wanted from others.

She had always known, she had always seen.

Now, standing in the space where she spent some of the worst years of her life, a period of time full of hunger, cold, screaming and resentment that still hunted her, Nesta would beg on her knees for a chance to be oblivious for the first time in her life —To not see. To not feel.

“Why would you want to?” She asked instead.

Cassian didn’t come closer. Nesta wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Standing here, in this ramshackle space where she still had to control her breath so she didn’t break down and become a crying mess, Nesta didn’t know if she was actually ready to discuss that.

To come back to face her ghosts was hard enough.

Nesta found a spot in the half rotted wood wall in front of her and locked her eyes there, not blinking, holding the tears that wanted to form in her eyes. She wasn’t ready to remember what had happened shortly after Cassian came into her house asking for her help. Her life was already almost too much for her to handle before Tamlin took Feyre, and that’s what they were trying to get closure for today. Not what had happened next, when the Inner Circle of the Night Court entered her life.

The thought threatened to make her breath erratic again, but Nesta remembered the exercices Gwyn had found for them and kept it under control. She mastered it and reminded herself why were here. Nesta forced herself to breath. Her lungs didn’t cooperate. Her mouth dry. She inhaled slowly and then exhaled the cold air. Once. Twice.

“Because I feel like that first meeting shaped everything else after, and I don't like what it did with it."

"It did nothing." It hadn't been that first encounter what had led her into the mess she was, nor had it anything to do with her choices back when they lived in this cabin that felt smaller and smaller with each of Cassian's words. She didn't want him to make excuses for her, she should have done more, and that was a fact she had already accepted.

"No, I did. I said that to you, and then the rest followed me."

"What does that have to do with this?" she vaguely waved her hands at the surrounding space. The room that had once been her house.

"Everything." he answered "Feyre wanted a peaceful meeting, you know? She wanted to do the talking, and for us to behave, and I couldn't hold my tongue. I fucked up, and only lately I've realized the damage my words actually caused.”

In the quietude of the room, his voice was a thunder. Nesta turned to face him and finally met his eyes, that were screaming for a chance to explain. But explain what? She already knew what she had to make up for, and didn't see what Cassian or the people who accompanied Feyre back to the Mortal Lands had to do with her past.

“I only thought of you as an extension of your sister.” She was curious to know when that had changed for him. She remembered the exact second the illyrian Commander had stopped being just her sister’s friend to her, earning a place of his own in her heart “I heard Feyre’s story, felt her suffering, and forgot you were a person too. You were entitled to your fears and to make mistakes as we all are, and I had no right to call you out there, when I knew close to nothing about you, and who you were. I didn't see that you had been a kid too, and your family's wellbeing wasn't just your responsibility, just as it wasn't Feyre's. I had no right to get involved in that unresolved issue between you, and I feel like when I did... I kind of gave everyone permission to do the same, and feel entitled to an opinion that weights as much as Feyre's and yours do in the matter. If I could go back…”

“You can’t” Nesta cut in. She wouldn’t let him, because if she wasn’t allowed to, then none of them would. It wasn’t fair.

Cassian still didn’t move, his presence painfully obvious. Cassian didn’t miss the shaking of her hands, but said nothing about it. She tried to put some of her usual icy rage in her eyes, but couldn’t. She tried to hide the excruciating pressure in her chest, the ache in her heart, but couldn’t either.

“I know you blame yourself for not being a caretaker and provider for your sisters, Nes” he started again when she didn’t go on “I know you already blamed yourself before we met, and I know I... we only made it worse, pushing you down thinking we were being good friends to Feyre. We actually hurt both of you in the end. I can’t speak for my friends, but I can speak for myself and tell you how sorry I am for not seeing that sooner. For not seeing you. And for making this" he looked rround towards the cot, the dinning table and the room they had just been into "worse than it already was.” The floor creaked under his weight when he took a step towards her, next to the cob. “You were barely older than she was, it wouldn’t have made a difference if it had been you in the woods. The three of you were too young to take that role”.

Then whose was it? His father? That's what she had thought for most of her life, but now... what about his leg? The pain he endured just by walking outside? She was the oldest, she should have done more, and she knew that. She didn't want them —Feyre— to just forgive her and pretend it had never happened. Because if she had done something more back then, then their live would be different now, for better or worse. She didn't want people to pitty her, and to tell her that she was an innocent and blameless soul.

"Why can't you just let me take accountability?"

"To take accountability is good, and I'm glad you are ready to do so, because you have to, in order to move on." He took her face in his hands taking one last step closer, their bodies almost touching “But I think we've let you think everything that happened to your sisters could have been avoided if you had been the one carrying the bow, and that's simply not true.” His thumb brushed over her cheek “What no one told you, Nesta, is that surviving is not only about getting food and water, or even a roof. I would know about that.” He chuckled softly, trying to lighten up the atmosphere around them in the dimness of the room ” Feyre is a great huntress, she didn’t need you carrying the bow and shooting the arrows.” Nesta would have died on her first winter hunting, both of them knew that. “You were needed as an older sister, and that doesn't equal being a provider for your family. She needed your support and care when she came back from a long day looking for food. A family.”

Enough tears to make a new sea had been shed by both her and Feyre in her art studio not so long ago. Feyre had asked for that exaclty: an older sister who had her back. And Nesta had promised she would try.

Nesta didn’t really know how to use or control her powers, and Feyre had surrounded herself with fae strong enough to never need Nesta to save her again.

But Cassian was right. That was not what Nesta could offer her little sister anyway, and that was not what Feyre needed from her either. That was not what she had ever wanted from her father, either. In the end, it all came to the four of them failing at being a family.

Feyre needed had needed that as much as Nesta did.

She was ready to be that from now on.

When she didn’t answer, Cassian stayed quiet, allowing her once again to get lost in her thoughts as long as she needed to, but wary at the same time, in case she drifted back to the dark ideas that so frequently starred in her nightmares.

Nesta freed herself from his grip and went back to the cot, running a hand over its cracking wood frame. Splinters snagged at her fingertips.

Her father’s body crawled up on the chair, the small fire burning until late at night so he wouldn’t freeze under the shabby blanket he used to keep himself warm… Nesta could picture it clearly when she looked at the cot again. “He’d drag it in front of the fire every night and curl up there, huddling under the blankets. I always thought he looked so … so weak. Like a cowering animal. It enraged me.”

That was the issue, the whole point of coming to the cabin. Her soul needed to face this chapter of her life like her lungs needed the air she breathed to keep her body alive. Nesta had to find a way to cope with the matted of feelings, nightmares and emotions —with the contradictions that formed in her heart.

It was always about him in the end. Her father. Their relationship.

She wanted to forgive him. She was sure of that. But there was still so much anger, such immense feeling of abandonment inside her that hadn’t been cured in time. He had been there for her in the end, and somehow that was even worse, because now she couldn’t even despise him for his cowardice. He died for her before he could face the consequences of his decisions, as she was trying to do now. He died, leaving his daughter with even more guilt inside. Because now she finally knew he did love her enough to get up from his chair and try anything, but was gone before she got a chance to do anything with that.

Her father had finally done what she needed from him, and she couldn’t even thank him. Tell him that she forgave him and ask him to forgive her back for all the times she picked on him. Tell him that she loved him, that she was grateful and his effort had been worth it.

“It …” Her throat worked. “I thought him sleeping here was a fitting punishment while we got the bed. It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could. That we’d only been able to take a few items of furniture from our former home and he’d chosen that bed as one of them. For our comfort. So we didn’t have to sleep on cots, or on the floor.” She rubbed at her chest. “I wouldn’t even let him sleep in the bed when the debtors shattered his leg. I was so lost in my grief and rage and… and sorrow, that I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I did.” Her stomach churned.

He squeezed her shoulder, but said nothing. Nesta didn’t talk for a moment, and Cassian put an arm around her to press her body against his, hugging her without a word. The warmth from his chest felt almost too good. She needed it, and also the calmness of his heartbeat.

“He had to have known that,” she said hoarsely. “He had to have known how awful I was, and yet … he never yelled. That enraged me, too. And then he named a ship after me. Sailed it into battle. I just … I don’t understand why.”

“You were his daughter.”

“And that’s an explanation?” She rose her chin to look at him and scanned his face, the sadness etched there. Sadness —for her. For the ache in her chest and the stinging in her eyes.

“Love is complicated. But he loved you.”

“I can’t for the life of me understand why.” she answered.

Nesta didn’t even have to think the words, they came out of her mouth before she even realized what she had said.

Cassian had told her that once last year —that he couldn’t understand why her sisters loved her. That simple sentence, said by him so casually in the middle of the street, followed her home and helped her already overwhelming self-loathing bring her even lower. Nesta had often wanted to know if he went over his words as frequently as she did after that night and the following months. She wondered if the confession he had made hunted him too.

Nesta had come to the conclusion that it didn’t torment him one bit the moment he came to her apartment to pick her up and take her to Feyre’s new mansion by the river. She was convinced at that moment that he actually couldn’t come up with a single reason why Feyre and Elain still wasted their time on her.

Yet he was here, so she wasn't alone whilst facing her past. He was by her side now, not giving up on her no matter how badly she screwed up.

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he was about to say, she didn't want to hear it now. It didn’t matter how he felt back then, she only cared about the present. And he was by her side. He was being a friend, apologizing for things he regretted that Nesta herself hadn't even consider, but somehow made sense.

She forgave him. Because she knew what it was like to crack under pressure and be hurtful towards people you care about when you don’t know how to help them and become desperate.

And Cassian somehow could read through her too, as he closed his mouth, his lips pressed tight.

Both of them let the unspoken words float between them, saying nothing, only looking at each other. Nesta was not perfect and he wasn’t either —there was no need to be perfect. Not right now. There were so many things they had yet to find the courage to discuss, that Nesta didn’t care. Looking into his hazel eyes, Nesta found the reassurance she needed that they would talk about it, with time, and that was enough.

They would talk about every unsaid thing between them.

They had all the time in the world.

The forgoten room reappeared around them at some point, as if they had been somewhere else when they got lost into each other’s eyes.

She studied the calluses already building across her fingers and palms. She made herself meet Cassian’s gaze again. “I didn’t just fail Feyre by letting her go into the woods. There were plenty of other times. I feel guilty.” Nesta said the words aloud for the first time. It was a clear feeling, as much as she hated it. She had finally found the one comprehensible spot in the mess that was her heart. Using that, she could pull the thread until she untangled the whole thing. It would take time, but it was a first step. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

Guilt. She felt guilt. She would work on that.

“Have you ever told her this?”

Nesta snorted. “No. I don’t know how.” That was still a problem.

He studied her, and she resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. “You’ll learn how. When you’re ready.”

“How very wise of you.”

Cassian sketched a bow.

Despite this house, the history all around her, Nesta smiled. She pocketed the carved rose. “I’ve seen enough.”

He arched a brow. “Really?”

She clenched the wooden rose in her pocket. “I think I just needed to see this place. One last time. To know we got out. That there’s nothing left here except dust and bad memories.”

He slid an arm around her waist as they walked for the door, again surveying all the little paintings Feyre had squeezed into the cottage. “Az won’t be back for a little while. Let’s go flying.”

“What about the humans?” They’d run screaming in terror.

Cassian gave her a wicked smile, opening that half-broken door for her. Leading her into the sunlight and clean air. “It’ll add a little spice to their days.”

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talix18 · 4 years

Text

November 5

(AM)

In the moments when I’m lonely and longing for a life partner who lives with me and cooks for me and prods me to do the many projects around the house that need doing, I imagine what it will be like to make room in my house for another person. I’ve lived a long time, I contain multitudes, and each of those multitudes requires at least one room’s décor dedicated to it. This décor includes lighting, wall art, and hella knickknacks, which I’m learning are perhaps privileges and not rights. I am a terrible housekeeper. I keep the kitchen and the bathroom mostly liveable at all times, I scoop litterboxes regularly, and I do clean up obvious messes that are clearly out of place (cat vomit, food splatter, errant toiletries). I even keep up mostly with sweeping as I like to pad around barefoot or in socks.

But when it comes to, say, vacuuming the cat hair off the couch or dusting, I am Not Good. I’ve also lived alone for so long that I’ve gotten in the horrible habit of embarking on a Project – hanging knickknack boxes; reconditioning my leather goods in the wake of The Mold Issue (it was penicillin-ish, not the black stuff, praise the baby Jesus) – and quitting part of the way through (usually because of time constraints and a commitment of some kind), leaving the evidence scattered in my wake. (Currently on my floor are a pile of shoes, boots, and purses and some leather cleaner. My knickknack boxes and said knickknacks are strewn across the dining room table and the hearth of my wood stove. My intentions are good. I know that I want to complete these projects and honor the energy I spent starting them. Sadly, motivation and energy are not available On Demand in my life, and significant time elapses between the beginning of the project and the cleaning up of the aftermath.

I have cats. Cats come with shed hair and the occasional DIY beach simulation beyond the litter box. Dust happens. It happens with alarming regularity and perseverance. It’s most pronounced on the shelves that don’t get touched very often (all the stuff that’s just for looking at; the bookshelves that are too rarely visited). As my media consumption leans further toward streaming, dust has enveloped the stereo, CD racks, and TV console. If anyone besides me saw the state to which I’ve allowed my home to be taken over by the assorted cobwebs (imagine Ms. Havisham’s tablescape), I would have the sense to be ashamed. I would also shrug, rail against the social expectations that single home-owning women are expected to meet, and usher my guest out the door to attend whatever function has brought them over in the first place.

At this point it is fair to ask why I don’t just hire a cleaning service. Well. Remember that whole lack of energy and motivation thing? There are conditions in which I am willing to live, but I would never ask someone to clean up after me until my home was in some sort of organized and settled initial state. It’s been at least two and a half years since I can honestly say this has been the case. (That’s not even including the dresser drawer that is almost certainly on the bedroom floor.

First, the cats moved in. I took in the cats when they were three and their owner was moving out of state. His situation involved temporary lodging with a friend and the cats weren’t welcome, so Jack and Lily (formerly Jill) came to live with me. When they came, I’d been a cat-free home for just about a year. Long enough to get rid of litterboxes and food bowls, but not long enough to pull up the wall-to-wall carpet the house came with. And I really wanted to get the carpet up, as my dearly departed Bo, who is really the reason I bought this house, was bulimic for most of his life. And his life was a long one, so he had his own crotchety habits, which included peeing in places that were not the litter box. I cleaned up behind him to the best of my ability, but my guess was that new cats would be able to tell he’d left parts of himself behind. (Besides the handful of whiskers that I collected when they fell out. Did I mention I’m a witch?)

Since the cat acquisition was, on my timeline, relatively rushed, and my bookshelves and couch are heavy, I made the executive decision to cut what carpet I could get to away and go back for the remnants later. The cats are now six, this is officially their Gotcha month, and three years later, we’re all still living with those remnants and the exposed paint splattered plywood floor revealed by removing the carpet. (We’ve also learned a hard lesson about how much insulation that carpet provided in the winters since its removal.)

I had every intention of putting down new flooring, but that requires money. Which I had more of before The Mold Incident.

The Mold Incident announced itself most obviously on a leather duffel bag I brought home from India (21 inches long for $45 US and I had acquired more than my suitcase could hold) and a leather backpack I got in Italy (25 years ago). A person other than myself would have assessed and remediated the situation in a timely fashion, I imagine. I know people exist who don’t have anxiety about phone calls and who get things done rather than letting them pile up, and I wish one of them lived in my house. (Future significant other, I’m looking at [for] you.) I, on the other hand, let the situation continue to worsen until it was obvious that the problem was not going away, no matter how hard I ignored it.

One mold inspection later, I was assured that the mold was of the friendly green-ish antibiotic kind and not the deadly black kind, and assured that the problem was simply one of humidity. Encapsulating my crawl space and installing drainage and a sump pump would keep the mold from coming back. (Remember those two thousand-year floods that destroyed historic Ellicott City twice in three years? I live up the hill from historic Ellicott City and my town also flooded in that second storm. I knew that water was sitting in my crawl space when I saw a wet spot on my bedroom floor.)

Cleaning the mold that was already in the house would cost, I was told, somewhere around $5K. Or I could do it myself, using a one-to-one combination of white vinegar and blue Dawn. All I had to do was wipe down all of the walls, ceilings, furniture, and exposed surface. And launder every article of clothing in my closet and coat rack. A friend lent me a garment rack that lived in my dining room as I took everything out of the closet and put back the mold-free stuff, culling for things that could go to donation bags because my closet was Way Too Full.

I finally gave back the garment rack, but the pile of shoes and bags remains. And the cleaning every exposed surface fizzled out (though the bucket, rags, and ingredients remain at the ready). Encapsulating the crawl space required getting in there and cleaning everything out (the pile of mildewed insulation was…something), which required pulling up part of the floor in the spare room. (Where my contractor saw the places in the floor likely to cave in and installed three new joists to prevent that. He also replaced the part of the wall in the closet that was secretly a hole hidden under siding and, while he was at it, finished the siding on the house that was begun when he built me a new utility room.)

Are you tracking the costs that are adding up? Clearing the crawl space, installing the joists, hanging the siding, and finally the encapsulation itself. Altogether, I basically bought a new economy car and shoved it under my house. The only part of it I can see is the siding, and that’s not even the color I really wanted (because the color I wanted was “premium”; for the sake of all you hold holy get the big things the way you really want them if you possibly can [that should probably go for the small things too]). And my floors are still paint splattered plywood.

(PM)

The hanging of the siding knocked lots of pictures and knickknacks from the walls, which led to the removal of a shelf that held the knickknacks, which revealed paint that needs to be touched up. Well, there’s no point in doing the floors until the walls are painted. Okay, but there’s a fist-sized hole in the electrical panel in the spare room that needs to be patched first. Which I can finally get to now that the HVAC is installed. Did I mention the new HVAC system? Maybe it was a new midline car, one third of which is in the attic.

Where was I?

I’m learning, as I contemplate all of the things I have to move and decide whether to keep and clean, that ownership is one thing, but maintenance of stuff is a different issue. Maybe this is a thing other people learn when they are much younger. Addict. Depressed. Brain issues. Bear with me. I understand that cars involve maintenance costs; so do pets and children. And houses in general require upkeep that isn’t associated with other living situations. I knew relatively early on that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the costs of having a kid – even if I could make it work financially, there are no days off in bed when you’re a parent. I knew I’d made the right decision when a friend told me that for him, parenting made the highs higher and the lows lower. I can’t afford any lower lows.

So I don’t have kids, because on my own, I can’t afford them. I have a 15-year-old car that’s paid for, but also requires the occasional costly repair. It’s easier for me to coax occasional lump sums than a new monthly payment out of my budget, so I hold on to the car and maintain it to the best of my ability. I have a lot of books, which are pretty self-sufficient once they’re shelved, and theoretically it’s easy to wipe the dust from a bookshelf, unless you are a person who has so much stuff some of it gets propped up in front of the books. See if you can guess if I am that kind of person. (Spoiler: I am.)

#f**k fifty #nanowrimo

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kgninterior88 · 4 years

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Home Interior Design: 10 Essential Home Remodel Tips & Tricks

Have you been thinking of remodeling or decorating your home? As exciting as this sounds, starting a home renovation or design can be a lot of work and even overwhelming. We are one of the best interior designer in Bhubaneswar and also modular kitchen designer in Bhubaneswar. We’ve put together our favorite home interior design tricks to help you get though your project! Check out our insider tips & tricks and read on for the 10 essential home remodel tips !

1. Home interior design 101: have a plan

This is no. one for a reason: you need to do it first. When handling your remodel alone you may be tempted to skip this step but it’s absolutely crucial to spend some time on planning. This includes creative tasks like choosing a style and choose your color palette. Plus, it means taking perfect measurements of your space and organizing all that needs to be done on the calendar, to get a realistic timeline. Yes we know, it sounds like a lot of work to be just at step one! But we promise this will save you time and it will avoid costly mistakes down the road. Keep in mind that you don’t necessarily need to do everything at once. In some cases, it’s perfectly fine to decorate just one area of the home to start with and then continue at a later stage. After all, a home remodel needs to be a pleasure, not an overwhelming chore!

2. Reflect your personality in your home interior design

Going back to the choice of your style, you’ll probably look for interior design ideas online and search for the main home interior design styles to get you started. And while looking at examples of classic, farmhouse, and boho interiors, you might think you’re not ready to choose just one. Well, be reassured, that’s perfectly normal! In fact, styles are there to give you general guidance, but at the end of the day, your home should reflect who you are and make you happy. So feel free to mix and match elements from different styles! It might take a while until you find the perfect fit for you, but keep editing and don’t be afraid to try new things!

3. Be careful with trends

Let’s talk about styles, colors and texture a little more. Between Pinterest, Instagram and interior design magazines, you’ll see new trends coming in regularly and you’ll probably fall in love with at least one at every season (again no worries, that’s normal!) The fact is that trends look so attractive also because they are hot in that moment, but they will not necessarily last in time. So when you’re making choices for your remodel, always ask yourself if you really like that trend. The worst thing is investing in expensive trendy pieces and then getting bored of them after a few months!

Here is the safest way to approach trends, tested by professional designers: stay on the safe side with the most durable and the most expensive items of your shopping list. So for flooring and big furniture items choose timeless pieces that you really love and that you’re going to love for a long time. Once that’s done, have fun with trendy accessories and easy-to-swap items! This way, you’ll be free to update your home without breaking the bank when you fall in love with a new trend and your home interior design will always be actual!

4. In interior design, every space is worth it

Living room, bedrooms, dining area, and kitchen; these are the rooms people normally think of when planning a remodel. But every part of your home is worth some home design attention! For example, the entryway is the very first thing people (including you) see when entering your home. A pantry is a place where you’ll go to every single day. And what about the laundry room? That’s a space guests will probably not see, but you’re going to spend quite some time in there and it would be better if the space didn’t feel drab!

You get the point; what we’re recommending you here is to give some love to all rooms in your home. That’s clear, budget is always limited and you’re going to be spending more time and money on the rooms that are most important to you. But don’t let those secondary spaces totally untouched. From sticky tiles to accessories, there are plenty of inexpensive home interior design ideas that will be just enough to give a fresh look to those rooms! And this will come with more than one benefit. First, it will give a cohesive feel to your home, which will create that beautiful designer look. Second, you’ll get to enjoy a beautifully decorated space no matter what you’re doing, and who doesn’t like that?!

5. Proportions are key

One of the most common mistakes people make when choosing furniture and accessories is getting the proportions wrong. Which may seem unimportant but it actually makes all the difference when looking at a finished room! Do you know that “it doesn’t feel quite right” feeling? Probably some proportions are wrong! For example, people tend to choose small pieces for small spaces. But in fact, filling a small room with plenty of small pieces will only make it feel more cluttered! Instead, choosing a few larger pieces will ground the space, make it feel more spacious and comfortable. On the other hand, going with furniture pieces that are too big can make it hard to walk around and this is always annoying.

Even though it’s so important, it is not always easy to figure out how much is big enough; so here is a pro tip for you! Every time you’re not sure of the proportion of an item, use paper tape to trace its contour where it should go. This will give you a much better idea of how much space it will actually take and you’ll be able to see if you’ll have enough space to walk around comfortably. This is also a tested trick to plan a successful gallery wall!

6. Mix old and new

This is another important point people tend to forget: going for a home remodel does not mean buying everything new! In fact, mixing new pieces with things you already have is going to give your home your special touch (besides saving you some precious money). This is also the perfect occasion to incorporate that vintage dresser you inherited from your grandparents which means so much to you! Going back to the choice of your style, your home will need to reflect who you are and sentimental pieces are key in making your home feel yours. But that’s not only about vintage pieces. Mixing old with new also means just keeping things you already have! While you are at it, always remember that things can be used for different functions and your creativity is the only limit in choosing what you can use your existing side table for!

7. Paint!

If you ask a designer what is the first thing they would advise to do to give a fresh look to a space, many of them will answer paint, and that’s for good reasons! First, paint is a relatively easy job. After some practice, it will become the ideal weekend project and it does make a tremendous difference, really. And paint is not only to add a touch of color! With paint you can make a space look larger, you can highlight an architectural feature (say a molding), you can create a focal point and re-proportion the space. Not only that, colors can change the mood of an interior and create ambiance. For instance, blue has a relaxing effect while orange and red are stimulating hues.

When talking paint, people tend to think about walls, but there’s more! Ceilings are one of the most underestimated surfaces of a room and a coat of paint will immediately give character to the design and create a great conversation starter! Furniture and accessories can also change dramatically when painted. This is a great tip to keep in mind when looking at items you already have; if you like their shape but not the color, paint can be all it’s needed to make them fit your new home interior design! Last but not least, paint does not necessarily mean a solid color. Patterns, gradients, and textures add a whole new level of interest to any painted surface! If you look online, you’ll find plenty of paint-related home design ideas and tutorials to achieve unique results! Also, don’t forget to consider wallpapers and wall stickers. Used alone or in combination with paint, they’re a sure way to step up the look of any space!

8. DIY it

DIY is not only a home remodel tip to save you some money; it is also a fun creative hobby and it allows you to get exactly what you want! Once again, Pinterest is full of mind-blowing ideas. And don’t be discouraged if you are not a top DIY person! There are many projects that are not so hard to make but still have a stunning final effect!

Also, DIYs can become a family matter and friends can be involved too! Children can participate in simpler projects while adults tackle the most complex ones. In the end, working together on a DIY is a sure way to give an item a unique personal value and – once it has found its place at home – just looking at it will bring back all the funny memories of the making process! Overall, making some of your home pieces yourself will make your home feel really yours. Plus, it will be the perfect conversation starter! A simple DIY can also be what’s needed to update some of your existing pieces and make them perfect for your freshly remodeled home. So once again, take some inspiration online and then let your creativity flow!

9. Utilize all of your space

How many corners in your home are unused? And how much storage and function would you get if they were utilized properly? We bet you’ve answered “a lot” to both questions! In fact, when furnishing a home with ready-made pieces, it’s normal that they don’t always fill the space exactly. Some examples would be those few-inches between the kitchen cabinets and the wall or above them. Or the space between the wardrobe and the wall. Or the empty space above your living room bookshelf. All these awkward tiny spaces here and there may seem irrelevant, but they could add so much value to your home!

If you’re getting custom furniture designed for your space, this is the perfect time to plan your space carefully and make sure all the dead corners are given a purpose. Otherwise, it’s time to DIY! For example, the thin space between the kitchen cabinets and the wall can be turned into the perfect storage for cutting boards, wine or spices, making the space way more functional!

10. Don’t underestimate accessories

We’ve already said that accessories are the best pieces to play around with trends without breaking the bank. But accessories are a lot more than that; they are literally the cherry on the cake for any interior, the finishing touch that makes a home design feel complete and designer-like. Artworks, pillows, vases etc. can help to tie the color scheme and make it cohesive throughout the home. Also, accessories alone can set the vibe of a room, making it cozy, elegant or funny. Last but not least, accessories are the perfect way to add texture. And a mix of carefully juxtaposed textures can give a space that effortless look we all love! In your home remodel process, accessories will clearly go in last, but if you start thinking about them in advance, you’ll be sure they fully fit with the style and colors of your new home.

Now that you know what are the essential home remodel tips & tricks, you’re ready to start your own journey! And if you have some ideas in mind and you’d like to discuss them with a professional, feel free to reach out to us; KGN Interior is ready to help you! Schedule a Free Interior Design Consultation with KGN Interior and get started today!

Interior Design Company In Bhubaneswar

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