I hope youâre well!! I think about made of ashes frequently and wanted to tell you I love your writing đ
Hi friend! Thank so much for dropping by and for the love đ Iâm trying very hard to lure myself back into and Iâm having a teeny bit of success. Hearing that people love my writing is always a helpful little boost!
fan fic authors be like yes i know this will flop however i simply have too much love for this character and my very niche headcanons for them. and i think that is so fuckin sexy of us
Hey there! Any plans on writing a part 2 for âMy Jolly Sailor Boldâ? Just read it on Ao3 and loved it!!!
Hey friend! Iâm so glad you loved it! I love it too, itâs probably one of my most favourite that Iâve written.
As for a part two⊠Iâve got some ideas rattling around in my brain. Theyâre all attached to Rowanâs line of âyou two should be so luckyâ and thereâs thoughts of a shipwreck, a very cold night and lots of rum. I might even have started it once an upon a time. Iâd have to dive through my WIPs to be sure though
Thereâs an emotion only unlocked when you live in a house with multiple stories. I call it âthe stair emotionâ and itâs when you realize the object you need is on the other side of yet another trip up and down those goddamn stairs. Itâs the closest I get to transcending the desire for material goods. Maybe I donât need that notebook. Maybe I donât need anything.
Aelin takes her not-adapted-to-the-cold boyfriend to the winter market and tries to teach him how to skate for the millionth time
warnings: language | word count: 1.4k
masterlist
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Winters in Terrasen were long and cold and snowy. Aelin, having grown up there, loved it. Her poor boyfriend did not. He was a Southern Continent man at heart and did not have the same constitution for the cold as her.
Which explained his parka, mittens, scarf, hat, snow pants, thick socks, and snow boots. He looked like a marshmallow, if marshmallows were red and black.
Lysandra snickered, getting an elbow in the side from Aedion. âYou were like that once, too,â he reminded her.
âYeah, and now Iâve adapted,â she said proudly, tossing her long braid over her shoulder. Her leopard print coat wouldâve been tacky on anyone else, yet somehow Lysandra made it look chic. She was also in snow pants, but that was because she had Evangeline to keep up with.
Aelin pecked a kiss to her boyfriendâs lips with a smile. Rowanâs eyes crinkled as he smiled back, cheeks already rosy from the cold.
âEugh, get a room,â her cousin groaned. Aelin threw a snowball at him, deliberately making sure to pack the snow nice and hard and tight, smacking him dead-square in the back. âOw! You biârat!â
Before he could return fire, Aelin hid behind Rowan, using him as a human shield. She stood on her tiptoes, chin just barely past his shoulder, to stick her tongue out and blow a raspberry at Aedion. Without warning, her boyfriend ducked, allowing her cousin to hit her right in the chest. After that, they called a truce.
For now, at least.
âTraitor,â Aelin hissed under her breath as they strolled along the frozen river that became a bustling market in winter. Rowan squeezed her hand in apology.
All bundled up, people thankfully didnât recognize her. Or if they did, they chose to be polite and not approach her. Orynth loved their womenâs professional hockey team, especially their captain. Sometimes Aelin wished she wasnât quite so famous in her hometown, or throughout Terrasen in general.
A group of teenage girls passed them as Rowan perused a stall selling ceramics. Eyeing a pretty vase, she leaned in to look at the price and balked.
âExcuse me,â came a girlâs voice, slightly timid. âAre you Aelin Galathynius?â
Aelin turned to see that group of teenage girls standing just outside the stall, huddled in a group like penguins as they waited for her reply. They squealed upon her confirmation. One girl asked for her jersey to be signed, which Aelin did gladly, after borrowing a marker off the shopkeeper. She crouched and they all piled up behind her to get in frame as Aelin held one girlâs phone up to take a selfie. Met with a chorus of âthank you!âs, Aelin waved them goodbye and returned to face her boyfriend. The look in his eyes was too soft for her liking, too full of the future.
Afterward, they ambled onward, hand in hand, just another happy couple enjoying the winter market.
âââââââââââ
Rowan could feel his girlfriendâs eyes as he laced up his skates. Attempted to, more like. âIâve got it,â he grumbled, struggling to yank the waxed laces tight.
âLet me help you,â she said, already squatting. Aelin pulled off her gloves and shoved them in the pocket of her coat, making quick work of the stiff laces. âGood?â
Wiggling his foot back and forth, Rowan shrugged in confirmation. He stood, pitching forward and narrowly being saved from getting a faceful of snow and ice by his girlfriend. If that wasnât embarrassing enough, the baby steps he took while clutching her hand made his face burn. And the fact that kids who barely came up to his knee could skate in circles around him made it even worse.
The ârinkâ was a large section of frozen river with the snow cleared away. Some people who wanted their own chunk of ice brought shovels and dug one out for themselves. Most were content to share the biggest one, treating it like a public rink.
With Aelinâs hands in his, Rowan tried to follow her voice. âPush, push, glide,â she repeated for what felt like the thousandth time in the last five minutes, pulling him along as she skated backwards. They slowed to a stop. âRemember, itâs a push, not a step. Use the inside edge of your blade to dig into the ice and propel yourself forward. And bend your knees. Always bend your knees.â
This was by no means his first skating lesson from his girlfriend, star of Orynthâs hockey scene. The city, the country, the whole damn world loved her. So did he, but sometimes he felt his love paled in comparison to their fervent adoration.
Push.
Push.
Glide.
âAlmost!â
Rowan didnât think the problem was with the teacher; she taught tons of little kids in the offseason. Maybe he was just meant to cheer her on from behind the glass. Maybe he wasnât meant to have knives strapped to his feet.
Push.
Push.
Glide.
He glided. All of half-a-stepâs length, but it was better than nothing. He did it again, going slightly farther this time. His motions were still stiff and stilted, not at all fluid or elegant like his girlfriend.
Aelinâs grin was so infectious that Rowan couldnât help but catch it.
âIf I fall, Iâm taking you with me,â Rowan promised as she gently pushed him to glide farther, go faster.
His girlfriendâs turquoise eyes sparkled with something like mischief. âOnly if I get to be on top,â she teased with a wink. Rowan blushed, embarrassment flooding hot into his face. Hopefully no one could see it, red as his cheeks already were. âOh, relax. Iâll be right here the entire time.â
Aelin set a slow, easy pace to her skating, hands casually in the pockets of her coat. Rowan kept his out for balance, his confidence slowly growing with each lap. Without warning, she abandoned him, speed-skating around the edge of the rink and weaving through people with ease. She stopped just shy of crashing into him, a spray of snow flung onto his legs. Upon her return, Rowan grabbed her hand, keeping her with him.
It was then his skate hit a rough patch of ice and he went sprawling. Aelinâs arms pinwheeled before she couldnât right herself and went down with him. Tailbone smarting and dignity in tatters, he turned to look at her. Aelin was biting back a smile, shoulders shaking as she tried to laugh silently.
âWhat?â Rowan glowered, trying to tamp down the feeling that she was laughing at him.
âI havenât fallen that hard in years!â she eventually got out between peals of laughter. Clambering to her feet, she dragged Rowan up to his. âOw,â she whined, brushing ice off her backside. âMy butt is going to be so sore tomorrow.â
âYou donât say,â he deadpanned.
Aelin pulled him so close they were chest-to-chest, breath mingling in white clouds. âKiss it better?â
âAelin!â
âSo I take it thatâs a no?â
âWhat do you think?â
She held up her hands placatingly, though her smirk betrayed her. âJust checking.â
They made a couple more laps, just so Rowan didnât end todayâs skate on such a bad note as a fall. Finally, they agreed to go home. He was cold, damn near frozen to the bone. Aelin tossed their skates in the trunk, climbing into the driverâs seat. Rowan immediately turned the heat knob to its highest setting, ignoring the disapproving look he was getting.
At home, a boiling shower thawed him out the rest of the way. As he stood in the steam shivering, Aelin made them tea and a quick coffee cake. Rowan slipped into a clean pair of sweatpants and his warmest hoodie, snuggling up with his girlfriend on the couch and watching one of those silly holiday romcoms. Fleetfoot jumped up halfway through, a transgression they reluctantly allowed, and curled herself into a ball next to them.
On the verge of dozing off, he mumbled a sleepy âI love youâ into her hair. He had fallen for her so hard, so deeply, that he battled the cold and froze his ass off as a testament to their love.
âââââââââââ
yes rowan is wearing one of those ridiculously ginormous red canada goose expedition parkas (he is also a wag)
unfortunately i am not immune to the heated rivalry hockey propaganda. howEVER imho the pwhl >>> nhl
I'm starting to think Harvey Eaton has the similar energy with Violet Bridgerton (except he constantly using innuendo when he finds his boys with their love interests), or maybe he's her doppleganger.
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