Ok you guys convinced me! I'll be hosting a Rowaelin Yulemas Swap for this year. I know it's sort of late but I'm hoping that we can sort of hammer one out quickly and easily.
Please fill out THIS google form here to sign up and please also make sure to fill out your likes and dislikes! This helps your secret Santa to gift you something perfectly tailored to you. Like last year, both fanfic and hand-drawn art are accepted. NO AI please!
The form will close THIS Wednesday, December 4th. I know it's not a lot of time to sign up but given how late we're starting this, we have to get names out ASAP. Also because of how late it is, I'm extending the gift-giving deadline. I think any time between December 23-30 will be good to get your gift out and tag your secret Santa giftee in the post. I will be sending out your names on Friday, December 6th so keep a lookout for those this week!
written for @throneofglassmicrofics November prompts: "cozy" & "curl"
just some cozy fluffy winter fluff ;))
word count: 752
warnings: none ;)
enjoy!!
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Rowan's soft, rumbling chuckle drifted through Aelin's hazy slumber, and she cracked her eyes open to find him sitting on the edge of the couch, brushing her hair gently away from her face. "Hey, Fireheart. Good nap?"
"The best," she murmured, still groggy. She'd flopped onto the couch only a few minutes after she'd come home from work, another overly long day of dealing with her sleazy boss. Once her shoes were off and she was wrapped in her old sweats and one of Rowan's college hockey sweatshirts, she'd tumbled right into that inviting heap of blankets draped over the couch and closed her eyes.
"How long has it been?" she wondered, slowly pushing herself to a seated position.
He glanced at his watch. "Well, I just got home, so probably a couple hours. You hungry?"
"Always." Right on cue, her stomach rumbled. She laughed. "Yeah, I know, it's been a while since lunch."
"Good thing the takeout should be here in a few minutes," Rowan said, a smile pulling at his lips.
She looped her arms around his neck and plopped a theatrical kiss on his cheek. "Best husband in the world."
"I try my best, love," he teased, sliding his warm hand around to the back of her head and kissing her properly. She sighed into the kiss, drinking in the taste of his lips.
When she pulled away, smiling, her cheeks were flushed a soft pink. "I could get used to this," she joked, as if six months of marriage hadn't already acclimated her to the giddiness of coming home to her husband.
"Might have to change things up, then." He winked at her. "Can't have my wife thinking we have a fixed routine." His thumb rubbed the back of her palm, curving around the emerald on her left hand. "How was work?"
She groaned, tucking herself into his side and hiding her face in his shoulder. "About as good as usual." Her boss, Arobynn, was a sleazy asshole who ogled every woman in the office as much as possible and was constantly making lewd gestures at her.
"I'm gonna punch his face in," Rowan grumbled, irritation scrunching his brows. "Does he seriously not understand that you're my wife?"
"He probably just doesn't care." Aelin ran her thumb over the groove in Rowan's forehead, smoothing out the lines. "And Ro, my love, you can't just show up my office."
"I know." Sometime in the last handful of minutes, he'd managed to untangle the blankets from around Aelin and tuck them neatly over both of them. "But you're okay, yeah?"
"I am." She kissed the corner of his lips. "I can fend for myself, and I have Dorian and Fenrys if I need male backup."
"Okay." Rowan looked like he wanted to say something else, but he was interrupted by the chiming of the doorbell. "Food's here." He kissed Aelin's forehead. "I'll go get it."
Aelin settled herself back into her blanket cocoon, soaking in the warmth from the heap of blankets and her husband's sweatshirt. A chilly breeze curled in from the open front door, and she shivered, tucking the blankets tighter around herself. Her eyes drifted shut again, almost involuntarily, and she blinked awake to find the living room window cracked just a few inches.
It hadn't been open before.
Groggy, Aelin scrubbed her hands across her eyes, unwrapped herself from the pile of blankets, and stood up slowly, her body not quite willing to leave the cozy warmth of the couch. But she had to close the window, so she made herself walk across the floor and tug it shut. As she did so, a whiff of Rowan's cologne drifted up from the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and she closed her eyes, pulling the crisp pine scent deep into her lungs.
When she opened her eyes again, a film of tears blurred her vision as the recognition that she'd once again been dreaming hit her like a truck.
Only hours ago, she'd come home from work and wrapped herself in her husband's sweatshirt, clinging to one of the last pieces she had left of him. Only hours ago, she'd tucked her face into the thick, pine-scented fabric and breathed Rowan's presence into her blood, and she'd fallen asleep to the most beautiful memories of him.
But as always, she awoke to the reality--her, alone in the house they had hoped to fill with laughter, clinging to Rowan's clothes because she could no longer cling to his body.
Hi! Is it possible to post the fic on AO3 and just share the link on Tumblr? I don't have a habit of crossposting, but the AO3 fic would be open for anyone to read. Thank you!
yes, of course! and we can share the AO3 link as well :)
This accidentally ended up the size of two microfics but I’m tagging you if you’ll still have me @throneofglassmicrofics
Prompts: mainly indulge but I ended up using mayhem too
Warning: teenagers
Words: 1,9k 🫣
1st run
Today, at 3:30 p.m., Rowan would kiss Aelin Galathynius on the cheek.
Pathetically enough, this little knowledge was on the forefront of his mind all day. Not his classes, no. Just Aelin’s ivory—occasionally rosy—cheek.
“Whitethorn!” Fenrys shouted in the hallway several steps behind, forcing him to turn and stop so his friend could catch up. “Looking good,” Fen said, playfully slapping the back of his hand against Rowan’s bicep.
Rowan rolled his eyes. He thought that going to the gym every day—plus taking supplements behind his mom’s back—would magically make him more confident. It didn’t. The only difference was that he looked slightly less thin, so now Fenrys occasionally catcalls him and reacts to his IG stories with the flame emoji.
Even worse, Remelle Wiselheade was now hitting on him. His plan to get Aelin’s attention absolutely backfired.
As if he was a mind-reader, Fenrys said, “And how does it feel to be Aelin’s husband?”
Rowan blinked. “Uh…”
“I mean in the play!” Fenrys threw his head back and cackled, then urged them towards the school theater. “Bro, you’re—“
“I obviously knew that!” Rowan said, defensive.
He was just taking theater classes because his mom thought it’d help him with the shyness. But Aelin? Aelin Galathynius could give Margot Robbie a good run for her money—in both talent and beauty.
If enduring his crush on her during classes wasn’t enough, they were acting as husband and wife for this play.
And it required him to kiss her on the cheek.
He was glad that Mr. Emrys, their drama teacher, had a no-kids-kissing-on-stage policy. Rowan was half a lip virgin—that thing with Lyria didn’t count—and while having an almost first kiss with Aelin would’ve been great, he wasn’t looking forward to a very public cardiovascular malfunction.
Once inside, he quickly found her by a wall with Nehemia. Aelin didn’t see him at first, but he slowed his pace to look at her better, making Fenrys—who was right behind him—trip and take Rowan down with him. Not down, since both recovered before falling face-first on the floor, but the whole thing was loud enough that now he had Aelin’s attention. At the worst moment imaginable.
She smiled at him and sent a tiny wave, and by the poorly hidden smirk on Nehemia’s face—very similar to Fenrys’—she must’ve figured out his crush on Aelin. She had to. Nehemia Ytger was one of the smartest people he knew, he just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut for now.
Once everyone gathered around Mr. Emrys and he gave them directions for today, the first rehearsal for Hamlet began.
It passed like a blur until the scene arrived.
[Modified Act 1, Scene 2]
The court gathers. Claudius stands before the throne—simple practice chairs, actually—with Gertrude at his side. Hamlet watches from a distance, looking somber and disapproving.
Rowan didn’t want to read too much into why he learned even the narration. He turned to his “court” and said:
Though my dear brother’s death is fresh in memory, we must also move forward.
Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.
Gently holding Aelin’s hand, Rowan swallowed and almost froze when it was time, but her encouraging smile propelled him further.
He might’ve just dipped in and out, but feeling her skin under his lips was the quickest yet longest second of his life.
His cheek kiss was followed by deafening silence. For a second Rowan thought he’d embarrassed himself somehow, until he found everyone staring at Fenrys, waiting for Hamlet.
His friend looked like a deer in the headlights.
“I forgot.”
“A little more than kin, and less than kind, Moonbeam.” Mr. Emrys took a calming breath. “Let’s do another run of this scene, shall we?”
2nd run
Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.
Rowan took Aelin’s hand again. Both experience and her open expression made him kiss her cheek more confidently this time, and he was calm enough to enjoy the moment.
The same awkward silence again.
“Mr. E, I have ADHD,” Fenrys protested, though the twitch in the corners of his mouth betrayed the seriousness. “Don’t you think it’s a bit fascist of you to make me learn all these lines in medieval?”
It’s called ‘Early Modern Common Tongue’, Moonbeam. You’ll learn with practice.” Mr. Emrys settled back into his seat. “Let’s do another run.”
4th run
By now, Rowan was very well practiced in kissing Aelin’s cheek.
Because of the political nature of their characters’ marriage, a greater actor would make Claudius give Gertrude a triumphant look rather than a fond one, but if Mr. Emrys wanted a great actor, he should’ve thought twice before casting Rowan.
Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.
As practiced, he reverently took Aelin’s hand and leaned in for the cheek kiss.
But she turned her head. The spot on her cheek that he focused on became a blur, and before he could grasp the situation, he felt the softness of her lips in his.
An awkward miscalculation on her part.
Or was it?
The way Rowan jerked back in surprise made their peck quicker than the other kisses.
“Whitethorn!” Mr. Emrys called, one finger pointed at him. “That was supposed to be on the cheek, mister.”
He froze, glancing wide-eyed between the teacher and Aelin’s mischievous look. He could protest and clarify that she was the one to incite the kiss, but that would just be loser—worse, virgin—behavior.
Rowan may be both, but he sure wasn’t acting like it.
With the snickers that came from the students, their teacher’s stance relaxed. He slowly shook his head and muttered, “Teenagers,” as a chuckle escaped him.
5th run
Rowan was determined to return Aelin’s peck, which meant that now stakes were higher. This time, he was even more nervous than before the rehearsal started.
She is cute. Rowan really likes her. And she kissed him first.
And this self-pep talk was shit at calming him down.
Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.
Instead of holding her hand, Rowan held her jaw instead. By their silent exchange, she had an inkling of what was coming, and her expression seemed welcoming. A quick brush of his thumb as another warning, and he leaned in.
Pillowy soft lips briefly against his was a brief shoot to the skies and back.
It was quick. It was glorious. The sweet, sticky feel of her lipgloss was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“A little more than kind, and—“
“Gods, Fenrys, it’s kin!” Nehemia shouted from the sidelines, distracting the teacher enough to forget about the kiss.
After this, Mr. Emrys stopped complaining—he had bigger battles to fight.
7th run
After their third kiss—plus four on the cheek—Rowan began to wonder if it was too soon for a “What are we?” conversation.
Maybe he should ask her out.
Scratch that, he was absolutely asking her out. If he got rejected, life would go on—after he changed schools.
Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.
Rowan stroke her cheek with his thumb and leaned in once again for their peck, but once he did, Aelin threaded her fingers through his hair and kept him there, tilted her head. She waited a second for his response, then retreated once it didn’t come.
Shit. Was this—
With hawk-like speed, Rowan grasped her face with both hands before she could draw back and… well, it was too much of a whirlwind inside his head to make sense of what was going on. All he knew was exploring tongues and her hands on his neck and his heart that threatened to leap out of his throat to interrupt the kiss.
He couldn’t believe he was kissing Aelin Galathynius, and she felt so soft. Soft lips, soft skin, a soft sigh that he felt in areas he’d rather forget to not embarrass himself.
“A little more than kin, and—HOLY SHIT”
The absolute silence turned into mayhem once Fenrys abruptly addressed what was going on. Once he did, the students howled and whistled at them.
However, the only reaction he cared about was Aelin’s, who stared at him with flushed cheeks and wide turquoise eyes that sparkled with something he couldn’t quite place. She giggled and hid it behind her hand, and the sight of her nervous excitement brought a funny feeling to his stomach.
“Okay, that’s enough,” their teacher said to interrupt everyone’s shouts and cheers. “Moonbeam, you’ll arrive with your lines fully memorized next time—this is not a request. Everyone’s dismissed except for Whitethorn and Galathynius.”
The mood immediately sobered as students grabbed their things between whispers. It didn’t affect him like people thought it would, though. Rowan had just kissed Aelin—with tongue. Mr. Emrys could put him in detention ‘til eternity, he didn’t give a fuck.
They got ready to leave along with everyone else, but gathered around the chair their teacher was still on once the theater was empty.
A twitch of Mr. Emry’s lips into a firm line told them he was trying to get into ‘stern teacher’ mode. He’s not really the authoritative type, but they broke the rules, and it was in the job description that he plays a role for discipline’s sake.
“In the script, it says ‘kiss on the cheek’, and I need my actors to do exactly as scripted, okay?”
Rowan and Aelin both muttered their agreements.
“Great. If that—“ Mr. Emrys pointed at the spot their kiss happened. “happens again, I’ll have to take measures all three of us won’t like.”
“We understand.”
“Great.” He said in an upbeat mode, without his ‘stern teacher’ frown, switching back to ‘nice teacher’ mode. “Glad that’s settled. You can go now, but I want you in your best behavior from now on.”
The thing about Mr. Emrys is that he’s a really cool dude. He rarely gets angry at his students, most times it’s an odd sort of fond exasperation. It worked on their favor this time, but Rowan wouldn’t take it for granted.
Outside, Aelin stopped once the door was closed. So did he. The playful flirtation they had during rehearsal was gone, and Rowan was unsure on how to make a move in this awkward silence.
It was now or never, though.
Aelin chuckled and went her way down the hall, which he followed beside her.
“So, that happened.”
He gave her a brief, close-lipped smile. “I was thinking…”
“Yeah?” She swiftly looked up at him, eyes wide.
“Doyouwannagooutsometime?”
Rowan hoped the blood rushing into his cheeks wasn’t visible from outer space.
Aelin had both hands gripping the shoulder straps of her backpack as she fought the corners of her lips from quirking up.
“Sure,” she said. “Do you have something in mind? Because there’s this movie I really wanna watch—”
“We can watch it.”
Aelin bit her bottom lip, eyes brimming with amusement. “I haven’t told you which movie it is yet.”
He tilted his head, silently urging her to give the information.
Please, anything but that gorey demon one he saw last weekend.
“Do you wanna go see Healers vs. Demons?”
“Sounds great,” Rowan half-lied.
Any movie sounded great if it was on his first date with Aelin.
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written for @throneofglassmicrofics November prompts "bluster" & "chill" (and probably a few others lmao)
some cute fluff to take my mind off election day yippee!!
word count: 851
warnings: none!
enjoy!!
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Aelin tugged the front door shut with a shiver, and it closed behind her with a thump that immediately raised a rapid patter of little footsteps from upstairs. Within two minutes, the kids had ambushed her, flinging their little arms around her legs and waist and clamoring over each other to tell Mama about their day.
"Your nose is pink, Mama!" Charlotte announced, pressing her finger to the tip of Aelin's nose as she snuggled into her mother's arms.
Charlotte nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Daddy had to rake the leaves out of the driveway before you got home!"
"We jumped in the piles!" Bran added, beaming. He was seven, and anything that allowed him to make a mess all over the yard was his favorite activity. "I jumped soooo much!"
"I bet you did, B." Aelin hugged her older son, who wrinkled his nose and squirmed away before she could plop a kiss on his head too.
Lana, the oldest at nine and a half, scoffed under her breath as Aelin let Charlotte down. "And you got leaves in your underwear too."
"Did not!" Bran shrieked, indignant.
"Did too!" Lana stuck her tongue out at him. "Dad said it looked like you peed your pants."
"Shut up, La-La!" Outraged, Bran lunged at his big sister, who dodged and hid behind her mother.
Aelin caught him before he could start throwing fists. "Bran, buddy, you know that's not gonna get you anywhere, and you probably don't want Lana to hit you back."
"She's being mean, Mama," he complained, folding his arms across his chest, turquoise eyes narrowed in indignation.
"Did you have fun jumping in the leaves?"
"Yeah."
"Then don't let what Lana says bother you, okay?"
He huffed a childish sigh, the anger seeping from his small body. "Okay." His eyes brightened. "I got Declan to jump with me!"
"Did you, now?" Laughter sparkled in Aelin's eyes.
Lana snickered. "Dec wanted to do a belly flop, and we watched him to make sure he didn't get hurt."
"Gave me a damn heart attack." Rowan's voice interrupted Aelin's moment with her kids, and she turned to find her husband leaning against the entryway wall with a twin on each hip and a half smirk on his face.
"Don't be dramatic, Dad," Lana sighed, so much like her mother that it made Aelin laugh. "We're very responsible."
"That's my girl." Aelin wrapped her oldest in a hug, affectionately ruffling her blonde curls.
Lana peered at Aelin's face. "Lottie is right, Mom. Your nose is pink."
Aelin unwound the scarf that was looped around her neck. "Well, I had to be outside, and like you all know, it's pretty windy." She knelt down and opened her arms, and both of the twins came sprinting over, burying her in a bundle of three-year-old limbs and excitement. "Hi, little loves. What did you do at preschool today?"
"I make painting, Mama!" Rielle squealed right into Aelin's ear.
Aelin blinked, hiding her wince, and guided her youngest back a step. "I'm sure it's beautiful, sweetheart, but do you remember how we don't yell in people's ears?"
Rielle nodded. "I get my picture!" She ran out into the kitchen, and Aelin shook her head with a laugh as she turned to Declan, the older of the twins by eight whole minutes. "I heard you and Bran jumped in a big leaf pile."
His little face lit up. "I jump in leaves, Mama!" He spread his arms wide and flopped into her lap. "See?"
"Did you have fun?"
"Yeah!" He beamed up at her before running back over to Rowan and demanding for Dada to pick him up.
Rowan chuckled and hoisted the little boy up into his arms. "How about we give Mama a little break, hmm? I'm sure she wants to warm her chilly self up." He shot her a wink.
She shrugged out of her jacket and flicked her scarf at him. "Babe, it's cold out there. It's perfect time for..." She paused, flashing her husband a smirk. "Hot cocoa."
"Yay!" all of the kids yelped, immediately bursting into pleas for the colored marshmallows and bickering over who got to have the Uncle Dorian mug. Dorian had prank-gifted Aelin and Rowan a mug that was 3-D printed in a cartoonish shape of his face, and for some inexplicable reason, her kids were obsessed with it.
"I'm beginning to feel outnumbered," Rowan said under his breath as he set Declan down and went over to Aelin, slipping his arms around her waist. "Who's going to tell the hooligans that they still have to eat all of their dinner even though they get hot cocoa before dinnertime?"
"Oh, I'm sure you can still put on your Stern Daddy face if you have to." She winked wickedly at him, muffling her giggle as his face went scarlet.
"You're a naughty, naughty woman," he mumbled, hiding his blush in her hair.
She just grinned and rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him. "You love it."
Hey all, it's @writtenonreceipts, I am planning on being gone/leaving tumblr and wanted to see if anyone was interested in taking this blog and the microfics over? Let me know in the dms and we can get the blog transferred.
