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theluckywizard · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday!

Thank you @melisusthewee and @nirikeehan for the tags!

I've been writing a bunnnnch since I got back from vacation and have been working on a Hawke and Rose smut scene on Giant's Staircase in the Western Approach for an academic-style smut writing exercise. It will feature in my long fic In the Shattering of Things down the line at some point! "With this caution and exhortation in mind, write a sex scene for a story in which you know your fictional characters well. Objective: To gain access to this rich material indirectly so that this experience often considered universal can feel singular, as though come to be for the first time in history." As with all smuts, I believe the set up is just as important as the business. So here is some set up! CW: spicy but probably mostly SFW

“Cats again, is it?” asks Dorian, smirking at us both. “A proper hunt. I spotted a half dozen at least. It’ll take all night,” says Hawke. I slip my arms around his waist without hesitation and Dorian salutes us both. We stroll lazily toward Hawke’s chosen destination, my insides humming with the intensity of my delight as his lips meet my hair, inhaling deeply. “Always upping the ante, aren’t you?” I remark, my eyes sweeping up the ruins. I can see the orange dance of firelight on the sandstone blocks above. He promised to find us a place we could wrap up in each other’s arms all night. At least we’ll have the high ground. “I challenge you to find a better place to canoodle than this,” he says, handing me up. We scramble up the crumbling structure which time has miraculously stabilized, hanging on to each other for balance. The tower top glows from the light of a small brazier he brought up, blankets laid out across the stones. To my left I regard a humanoid skeleton that Hawke has clearly sat up against the parapet wall, a dusty bottle inside its bony clutches and a desiccated, ages old wheel of cheese by its side. I turn to Hawke slowly, eyebrows raised high and his fingers tap over his cursed grin the way it always does when he’s desperately trying to contain gleeful laughter. “He was like this when I got here, I swear.” “I don’t know how you’ll ever plan to top this one,” I remark. “And the pile of varghest carcasses was pretty outrageous.” “Mm. Sounds like a dare. And you know I can never pass up a dare.” From up here we have a clear view of the camp below, far enough away that I assume they can’t hear every detail of our conversation, but if they looked up, they would know that something was afoot on top of the tower. Hawke claims my hand as I continue to survey the scene and draws me close with a sudden tug, knowing full well the effect of that little acceleration, my insides molten with anticipation. I assert myself though, aware of how I could passively ride his passion to several climaxes. I cradle his face in my hands, at least to prove I’m not resigning myself to another night with him, surrendering to his persistence the way I had for months. His chin and jaw are freshly shaved and his cropped locks fall over his forehead, too short to be tucked behind his ear the way they used to be. I run a finger over his handsome brow and then down to his soft lips which part on a wisp of a sigh. The intensity of his look dissolves into a vulnerable entreaty for more of me, the same look he’s given me since before that time in the tower when he’d first unlocked me. We meet in a feverish embrace, our kisses having greater urgency now like they’re somehow more fleeting in spite of being less so than ever. Something to desperately cling to while bashing our way through impossible danger. “You must have something planned,” I say, kicking off my sandals and standing on his big feet. “Aside from ‘make my beautiful lover come several times’? Not really,” he says, his fingers grazing over the hardened peaks of my breasts, my stay joyfully abandoned back at camp. “A bit ambitious. What if I want to turn your knees to jelly for a change?” I ask, my head dropped all the way back to gaze up at him with a grin. His brow lifts high, his smile slightly agape, his chest heaving on the deep, amorous breaths he draws. “Anything you want.” “Anything? What if I’m secretly some sort of depraved monster?” he says, bending for another kiss. “Well, I can always say no,” I remind him, pressing a brazen hand over his hardening length. “Oral. In a sailboat. With a squid and a sweetroll.” “Tempting, but no.” “Like a dog. Covered in honey, wearing our helmets.” “You’re going to make me guess, aren’t you?” I say, poking him gently in the belly. He shrinks back slightly, his hands leaping up protectively. “Lie down.”

Tagging in case they have WIPS to share! @crackinglamb, @rakshadow, @about2dance, @warpedlegacy, @monocytogenes, @rowanisawriter, @skyeventide AND YOU

#WIP Wednesday #Theluckywizard #Hawke x Trevelyan #Purple Hawke #But Blue-Purple Hawke really #Hawke x Inquisitor #Rawke Smut #warrior!Hawke #Garrett Hawke #Rose Trevelyan #My OCs #I love them

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blarrghe · 9 months

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Hey! Would love to hear about the super secret birthday epilogue, for the WIP Ask meme! And if you can share a little snippet of it, even better 🥺

Thank you ❤️

Hi Cat! Thanks!

Super secret birthday epilogue is a little something I am writing for me, for my birthday, to epilogue the longfic saga of Matchsies/A Complicated Match. My birthday is at the end of August and I plan to post it then but I'm almost done with writing it and just dying to share lol. I almost did post a snippet on WIP Wednesday this week but then I forgot. Anyway, this is pure sweet sappy self-indulgence for a finished fic (spoilers) and a pretty big snippet so uh, not-so-secret epilogue thing starts like this :)

It felt so strange to be back. Dorian tapped his fingers impatiently against the bartop at The Rest, then swirled around the drink in his glass before taking the last of it to his lips. He swallowed the sweet, strong, biting mouthful with a sigh. Whiskey and cola; he’d long since given up on having anything top-shelf at this pub. And yet he knew he was going to miss it.

When he’d missed Ferelden before, those six-odd months in Tevinter, he’d mainly missed Taren. He’d missed The Rest, the shop, the cold grey coast and the sprawling underground, yes, and after a couple months he’d even missed his dingy little office and the brown brick and scraggly vines of the university buildings, but mainly, just Taren. It wasn’t going to be like that, this time, and suddenly he was seeing everything in a new light.

He gave the bartender a nod to refill his glass, and watched the patrons behind him in the dimly lit place as they drank their drinks and threw their darts in the reflection of the dusty mirror behind the bar, his own face frowning. Dorian heard the door to the pub open, and turned on his stool to see Taren silhouetted against the fading daylight outside.

The elf shuffled in, grey hat over his crop of not-quite-shoulder-length auburn hair, unceremoniously crushing down the curls so that they whisped out about his chin. He unzipped a too-large fall jacket, something built of army-surplus canvas and patched up with punk band logos and bright pins. He spotted Dorian, smiled a leaning smile, and waved.

Dorian’s frown disappeared. He raised his glass, gestured him over, and stood. He ordered him a pint before Taren could get to it himself, putting it on his tab and pushing a tip across the bar. Then they took up their drinks and found a booth. The same booth. He wondered if Taren noticed.

“How was the shop?” he asked conversationally, as Taren settled himself across from him.

“Oh, you know,” Taren shrugged. “It’s weird, I guess.”

Dorian nodded, and waited. There was a contemplation on Taren’s face, more coming through that he was still working out how to say.

“Sera’s still mad,” he said.

“She’ll come around.”

“Yeah,” Taren sighed, frowning a little as he took up his beer for a sip. He put it back on its coaster and leaned back in his seat, glancing to the side and taking in the rest of the bar. “And I keep looking around like — seeing things, I guess, feeling like it’s for the last time.” He smiled slightly, but not happily. More as though to apologise. “I’ve never had this much warning.”

“It won’t be the last,” Dorian promised. “And you’re still allowed to change your mind —”

“— stop.” Taren shook his head. “I’m not changing my mind. I’m just… going to miss it.”

“So am I.”

“How was the university?”

“All settled. And I have some paperwork for you, too.”

“For me?”

“Your letter of course completion from Montilyet.” Dorian fished the document out of his bag as he spoke, and slid it carefully across the table.

“Oh, thanks.” Taren picked it up and examined it before sorting the letter away to his own bag. “I was - I was going to pick it up.”

Dorian shrugged. “I was there.”

“So that’s everything? I mean, all your paperwork is in, too?”

“That’s everything on this side.”

"Right. Shit. Ok,” this time, Taren really did smile at him, “guess I should finish packing.”

He took another sip of his beer. Dorian watched him as his eyes strayed back into the bar, contemplating the dartboards and faded sports posters and chipped paint. Then he looked back at Dorian, his smile lopsided and his eyes still thoughtful.

“You know this is the same booth?” he asked, “from when we met.”

“We should get married,” Dorian blurted out in response.

#wip game #ask me things!

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collarbonekissesandasylumwitches · 1 year

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hello hi, hope y'all are doing ok :)

this is just my take on this aesthetic, my personal brand if you will, so please don't come at me if it isn't completely accurate

(i do not know where a few quotes are from so if you do, please lemme know so that i can list them)

poetcore // chaotic academia // downtown girl

vibes: grocery stores, existential poetry, psychology/english major, iced caramel lattes, old bookstores, anatomical heart emoji, thunderstorms, wired earphones, art museums, dyed hair and a nose ring, vintage posters stuck on bedroom walls, blue hour, ink stained hands, latin curses, 3 am showers, voice notes, smudged eyeliner, cocoa lotion, choco chip cookies, silver rings that clink against ceramic cups, native language nicknames, annotated books, commentary videos on youtube, forehead kisses, candles, love letters, lullabies, sunlight through curtains, libraries at night, homoeroticism, angry girl music, pressed flowers, coffee cake and coffee eclairs, glitter pens, lipbalm, dog cuddles, super specific playlists, daily outfit pictures

fashion: small shirt big pants black nailpaint mismatched earrings signature perfume hair sticks black turtlenecks cardigans fingerless gloves nose rings high waisted jeans linen shorts lipgloss cotton dresses waist jewelry heart shaped locket moss coloured bralettes bandanas tank tops crystal necklaces white eyeliner oversized earth toned sweaters cargo pants vintage band tshirts charm bracelets and anklets crop tops smudged eyeliner harem pants claw clips fairy earrings tote bags doc martens with everything lots of antique rings

songs:

ribs - lorde

coffee breath - sofia mills

movies - conan gray

how long - hadestown

sunflower - post malone, swae lee

i want you to want me - letters to cleo

bookstore girl - charlie burg

sappho - frankie cosmos

achilles come down - gang of youths

girl from the bookstore - jack jones

poet - bastille

all too well 10 minute version taylor's version - taylor swift

artists: mother mother, bon iver, girl in red, arctic monkeys, daughter, florence + the machine, hozier, the neighborhood, taylor swift [folklore and evermore in particular]

movies: shutter island, dead poets society, lady bird, 10 things i hate about you, five feet apart, potrait of a lady on fire, kill your darlings, fleabag, perks of being a wallflower, all the bright places, loving vincent, call me by your name, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

books:

crush - richard siken

a little life - hanya yanagihara

the song of achilles - madeline miller

ode to aphrodite - sappho

the bell jar - sylvia plath

and then there were none - agatha christie

envelope poems - emily dickinson

the secret history - donna tartt

the picture of dorian gray - oscar wilde

a room of one's own - virginia woolf

the robber wife - margaret atwood

the yellow wallpaper - sam vaseghi gilman

quotes:

what we love, we mention. - Marie-Helene Bertino

you said i killed you. haunt me then. - Emily Bronte

loneliness is still time spent with the world.- Ocean Vuong

let me stay tender hearted, despite despite despite.

that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. - Walt Whitman

i love you. i can't tell you. the sun on your face will do it for me. - tumblr user tturing

i will love you if i never see you again, and i will love you if i see you every tuesday. - Lemony Snicket

someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story. - Richard Siken

nothing ends poetically. it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was never once beautiful. it was always just red. - Kait Rokowski

love is real. i saw it once outside my window and it stopped to look at me but kept on walking and i thought it'd come back but in the end maybe it was just passing through.

in ten years' time, i want to live in a house with big windows, i want the house to be large enough to have a kitchen table with four chairs but not too roomy to ever feel the depth of my aloneness. because i'll probably be alone. but i think aloneness won't feel so all-consuming with windows that protect me from the world but still let me watch it. - Maeve Wiley, Sex Education

male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of vour own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. you are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. you are your own voyeur. - Margaret Atwood

take care, love love >3

#poetcore #chaotic academia #downtown girl #please add other tags i am exhausted after writing this whole thing 😭

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saintcorvins · 2 years

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–𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔦 𝔞𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱.

if there is a god, then i’m going to make him cry.

stats.

name: vincent “saint” corvin

nicknames: saint, more often than not “daddy”, when he was younger it was vinny

age: thirty-two

gender identity: cis-male.

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual.

birthday: october 24th, 1989

star sign: scorpio.

time in ithaca: fourteen years

occupation: owner of a downtown club called daddy’s

place of birth: litchfield, connecticut

height: 6′3

info.

a boy isn’t just born and named a saint, it is a titled earned with godly traits– for vincent corvin it was branded upon him in irony: in his youth he was long limbed and terrible, wily and eager to hurt. it was with his perfect aim that baseballs sailed into the glass windows of churches and neighbours cars. the corvin house was the worst in the neighbourhood, it sat like a crooked tooth in a perfect smile: the grass was always too long, the porch sagged in the centre and the paint peeled off of the siding in long strips. saint grew up mean, knowing that anything worth having he would have to get himself: there were no handouts and fast tracks for boys who cropped up as tall and unsightly as dandelions.

his wicked phase was one he never grew out of, but his mischief became more purposeful: a fervent need to leave home and everything that made him what he was became his biggest motivator. where he used to hold magnifying glasses in bright sunlight over the pages of thick library books, he now craned his head over in study- he tugged at ponytails and broke ribs when he tackled other boys during football games, but he was at the top of every class he attended. if there was any way to leave litchfield, it would be for college.

and colleges wanted him. when it came time to apply, his story of overcoming adversity (twisted and warped with a charm that he developed with his dark streak) and making himself an exemplar student and athlete piqued the interest of many schools- tear jerking essays caught the attention of recruiters and saint was eager to say yes to the first ivy to offer him a full ride.

he attended cornell for business, and was very, very good at school. his eagerness to learn paired with a determination to remake himself has carried him through now after graduation, into the man that he is now today. he lives in one of the finest homes in ithaca, and runs one of the most (if not the most) successful clubs in the downtown.

saint can appear cold, but the years have softened him: everything that he has achieved has been of his own merit. He now acts upon his whims, serving himself and his desires, ensuring the success of his business while capitalizing upon his own Dorian Gray-esque need for satisfaction.

The only real love of his life is his doberman named Valentine, who follows him everywhere and while she looks quite intimidating: she is essentially a lap dog but overgrown. Long term relationships have always been a struggle with him because he lacks commitment, Saint seeks only to further his own success, and cares little about the goals of other people.

Down the road he’d like to expand his business into a cafe or bistro under the name Baby’s, but the foray into food service over entertainment is a bit intimidating and he’s also not sure if he wants to expand his empire or just keep having fun as he is now.

Saint started from the bottom and now he’s here!!! He’s a bit sexy, kind of irritating, will answer to “daddy” and could use any and all connects!!!!!

#about #ithacaintro

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135-film · 3 months

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stole this from an ask game because i have no respect for people and i don't think anyone cares about my opinion on characters. so meow. i'm just answering it myself idgaf

i'm gonna be talking about my babygirl (DA2 not awakening) cus hes on my mind frequently.

1. why do you like or dislike this character?

his transgenderism captivates me. and also the terrorism/treason

2. favorite canon thing about this character?

his everything. i literally think about him daily

3. least favorite canon thing about this character?

his hatred towards elves especially fenris. i like his asshole attitude until it comes to literal slaves but i don't even think bioware like, knows what slavery ACTUALLY is so. lol.

also i love bisexuals more than anything (bisexuals are the sexiest people aliveeee) but also the fact that he "is" bisexual even though he really. shouldn't have been. his interactions with female hawke are so insanely lackluster it hurts, but his interactions with male hawke are more than faggoty to the point real human people were mad about him being a faggot to them

4. if you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

nothing <3 i don't think about crossovers because i do not really care for them

5. what's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

i don't do music associations for anyone but IRL people and my kins so i do not have a single one.

6. what's something you have in common with this character?

we are both gay transgender terrorists

7. what's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

almost nothing. they make his stupid gay ass UGLY and also i hate dragon age fans (i am not joking)

8. what's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

when they bitch about him because hes an asshole or they make him super buff and cis and ugly. and they also like to pair him with fenris because le tensions or whatever, but i am literally begging people to use their fucking brains about that. (they won't)

9. could you be roommates with this character?

no. he would kill himself

10. could you be best friends with this character?

no. i would kill myself

11. would you date this character?

PLEASE ANDERS PLEASE CALL ME BACK PLEASE PICK UP THE PHONE I NEED YOU SO FUCKING BAD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

12. what's a headcanon you have for this character?

his transgender cock is huge

13. what's an emoji, an emoticon, and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or that you think this character would use a lot?

i think this question is stupid but, without a single doubt in my mind: 😼

14. assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

miniskirts and crop tops. and shorts that show his ass. and a g string. and

15. what's your favorite ship for this character? (doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

just anders/hawke (either gender for hawke but M hawke is what i imagine), i don't really think about the companions dating outside of the pre-existing relationships (like iron bull/dorian). but i don't really think DA2 has many good options for him anyways, so unless he's making out with some random fucking NPC that only says "i'm so hungry and it's so dirty down here" i don't think he's getting anything

16. what's your least favorite ship for this character?

fenris/anders. i already said my reasons.

17. what's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite.

i like, almost never see any other ship honestly. i guess i did see a threesome fic that i liked with isabela, but they weren't a thruple they were just fucking lol

18. how about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

i think this question is worded so strangely. but i think a lot about justice and anders relationship a lot, and honestly karl and anders relationship too. i just lay here and go , man .

19. how about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

need i say it again. also, him and aveline should just relax a bit more tbhtbh

20. which other character is the ideal best friend for this character? the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter.

honestly i still think DA2 anders should be best friends with oghren. not that he WOULD be, but that he should be

21. if you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? what's something you don't like?

i literally only write porn fics of DA characters. (i have not shared them anywhere because they are old ass WIPs from like, ages ago.)

buuuut i don't like making him blond and i like melding his awakening personality and DA2 personality together because it's just what makes the most sense to me.

22. if you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? what's something you don't like?

pretty much same as above, and also the whole cis thing. i really cannot believe people don't see him as a nasty tranny

23. favorite picture of this character?

his concept art.

24. what's another character from a different fandom that reminds you of them?

uhhhh. probably nobody right now.

i haven't played BG3 but i've HEARD (from fandom spaces) that gale is pretty similar to anders in a few different ways. but i've also heard (from friends who know nothing about DA) that they don't think i would like gale, so.....truly who is to say unless someone wants to buy me a $59.99 (+$4.50 in state tax) game so i can learn more

25. what was your first impression of this character? how about now?

when i went into DA2 i was about 15 and had only ever seen fenris/hawke and that was what i wanted. until i saw anders. and then it completely derailed my course and i went fucking crazy for him. and now i cant NOT date him

#dook dook #someone needs to tell me to shut up but i wont listen #i have strong opinions about fandom because i do not like fandom. especially in 2024 where everyone is 5x the amount of annoying #and i am a fucking hater #but yeah im still gonna tag this anyways. FUCK BITCHES #dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #da anders #dragon age anders #da2 anders #dragon age 2 anders #um. whatever #its a big block of text so its your fault if you open it

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vodika-vibes · 8 months

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For the OC game!

💐 💌 and 👀 for Dorian, Grain, and Dusk?

I hope it’s ok I chose 3 for 3 of your OCs?

It's totally fine! I'm happy to answer questions about them! And thank you for the ask~

👀 - How do they look like? Give an overall description of them

Dusk - Like all of his brothers, Dusk stands at 6 feet tall, with black hair and golden brown eyes. Dusk keep his hair long, when it's straight it hangs to the middle of his back, but he normally keeps it braided or in a topknot so it fits under his helmet. He has one durasteel earcuff that he wears regularly (Fox told him to remove it, and he hasn't yet). And his entire back is covered in a massive star map tattoo which also continues down his arm.

Dorian - Dorian is the same height as his brothers, though he is a bit more wiry than most of his brothers. He was decanted with Albinism, which means that he has absolutely no melanin. His skin is white, his hair is white, and his eyes are pale blue. (He's a little sensitive about his appearance, so he's happiest if no one mentions it). His hair is cropped short at the sides, and longer at the top, and he normally does the bare minimum when it comes to styling it. He thinks it gives him a "devil may care" look.

Grain - Grain stands at 6 feet tall, though he doesn't look it since he's almost always hunched over a desk or a medical bed. He has a single tattoo on his inner wrist so he never forgets his twin, Kix. His hair is completely gray, and he started going gray when he was still a child. And he keeps it the same length all over. No longer than a couple of inches. He has the standard golden brown eyes.

💐 - Their favorite plant/flower

Dusk - Lilacs

Dorian - Tiger Lilies

Grain - Nightshade

💌 - How would they react to a love letter?

Dusk - It depends on how much sleep he's had. If he's over tired he'll stare at the letter, and ask if the person giving it to him wanted him to deliver it to someone else. If he's more awake, he stutters and stammers, and then panic flirts (which is probably how he got in the situation in the first place.)

Dorian - Will be flattered and will keep it and read it repeatedly. Even if he doesn't feel the same he'll let the person who sent him the letter down gently, and will still keep the letter anyway.

Grain - He blushes and stammers and panics. He tries to let the person who sent him the letter down gently, but more often than not can't get the sentence out without stammering and panicking. So one of his vod'e have to do it for him. He's always careful to offer the letter back to the writer, if they want it.

#star wars #tcw #clone oc #Captain Dusk #oc: dorian #oc: grain #answered asks

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dungeons-and-dragon-age · 3 years

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For the outfit prompt A2 with Dorian? ☺️

First Hawke, now Dorian... I swear we're out here making the entire Kirkwall Crew jealous

[ID: Dorian pictured from the waist up wearing a cropped black hoodie with long, vented sleeves and cat ears on the hood. He is pised in profile facing the left, but looking to the front with a smile. End ID.]

(ID by @curiouslavellan)

#me after years of drawing: still doesnt know how tf clothing folds work #(in fact that's literally the reason why i rarely ever made my (non human) ocs wear anything lmao)#i really gotta practice that properly....#but anyways!#have a crop top dorian ~#dai #dorian #my art #drawing prompts #described

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

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Heels {Rowaelin}

The prompt: walks in front of their crush in stripper heals and a short skirt because they want their attention

Rowan x Aelin os

Written with @snelbz

There was no way this could be a good idea.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, watching as Lysandra flicked through her closet. She had told her that tonight was the night and had recruited her to help her do what she considered nearly impossible.

She was going to get the attention of Rowan Whitethorn.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know she existed, it was quite the opposite. He was one of her friends, having met during orientation week their freshman year, and as their group grew, so did their friendship. But after three and a half years, she had very solidly gotten her stuck as just that: his friend.

“You’re wasting your time,” Aelin crooned, flipping through the timeline on her phone.

“Bullshit,” Lysandra muttered, flipping through the clothes in her closet. “You need to feel confident, Aelin. Rowan is obsessed with you, and you’re obsessed with him. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but remained quiet.

“How about this?” Lysandra asked, pulling out a denim mini skirt and black halter cropped top. As Aelin was about to reply, Lysandra said, “Say nothing. Put it on.”

With a roll of her eyes, yet again, Aelin did as much. Once she had the skirt and top on, she looked in the mirror.

And she looked hot as hell.

“Shoes?” Aelin asked, despite herself.

“Oh, I have the perfect heels,” Lysandra said, fleeing from the room. She came back a moment later with a pair of black stilettos that were Aelin’s size.

Scoffing, Aelin held them up. “I’m going to break my neck.”

Lysandra snorted and flounced back into the bathroom where she continued to straighten her hair. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Fine,” Aelin amended. “I’m going to break my ankle.” She set the shoes on her bed and joined Lysandra in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

She let Lysandra curl her hair, but drew the line when she offered to do her makeup. They had very different styles when it came to that and while Lysandra looked drop dead gorgeous with her cat-eye liner and ruby red lips, Aelin would never be able to pull it off.

“Where is this party even at?” Lysandra asked, pulling her hair back into a stylish ponytail.

“Lorcan’s.” Aelin was trying to keep her hand steady as she applied the thin line of liquid eyeliner to her upper lid. “I think Elide convinced him to throw it.”

Lysandra snorted, applying her mascara. “Sounds right. Lorcan isn’t exactly the host-type.”

Aelin grinned, tossing her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “Alright, hurry up. I want to make my entrance.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lysandra took one last look in the mirror and declared herself ready and they were off.

Lorcan’s apartment was just on the edge of campus, so the two girls walked and earned the eager glances of many as they did so.

Aelin took it as a good sign.

“Will Aedion be here tonight?” Lysandra asked, shooting a glance over at Aelin.

She groaned. “Probably.” She still couldn’t believe that her roommate actually had the hots for her cousin. He was practically her brother and the thought of him in any sort of compromising position made her want to gag. “If you hook up with him tonight, please do it at his place. I can’t afford therapy on my barista’s salary.”

“Trust me,” Lysandra said, adjusting her ponytail as they approached the steps to Lorcan’s. “I plan on giving you complete privacy at the apartment tonight. And you better take advantage of it.”

Butterflies grew in the pit of Aelin’s stomach.

She planned to, hoped to, wanted to…but, she had to catch Rowan’s eye first - something that made her nerves go haywire.

Lysandra must have caught it, because they stopped outside of Lorcan’s door and Lysandra made Aelin face her.

“You look gorgeous,” she said, and brushed Aelin’s hair back. “He’d be an idiot not to come after you.”

That was the goal, after all. Aelin was not going to be the one doing the chasing. She wanted Rowan to see her, want her, not be able to take his eyes off of her. She knew he’d be here, the party was at his best friend’s apartment, knew that everyone from their friend group would show up. Yet she was absolutely fucking terrified he’d see her and have zero reaction.

She played it off with a joke though. Scoffing, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. “He’d better. I didn’t book an emergency appointment with my waxer for nothing.”

If Lysandra noticed the fake bravado — which she absolutely did, she and Aelin had become as close as sisters over the past three years — she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she smirked, smacked Aelin on the ass, and said, “Then let’s go get your man.”

The music could be heard from a block away, and when they opened the front door, the apartment was already packed.

People definitely noticed them come in, though, including Elide who was running towards them, a drink in hand. “It’s about time you two showed up!”

“The host himself isn’t here to greet us?” Aelin mocked, giving Elide a hug.

Elide chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “He’s been out on the balcony for about a half hour, avoiding all human interaction.”

“Sounds about right,” Lysandra replied, rolling her eyes, but then she began looking around the spacious townhouse Lorcan and Elide shared. “You haven’t seen Aedion tonight, have you?”

Elide gave Aelin a knowing glance, but said, “Last I saw, he was playing beer pong with Fenrys. Don’t know who the poor bastards getting their asses handed to them were, but they’re probably still in the kitchen.”

Lysandra gave Aelin a wink. “Good luck.” And then she was gone, lost in the bodies dancing to the music.

Her part in tonight was done, to help Aelin get Rowan’s attention. It was all up to Aelin now, so Lysandra was free to find someone to occupy her own time. Even if the thought of who she’d be with made Aelin want to shudder.

Alone with Aelin, or as close to it as they could be, Elide let out a low whistle as she finally took in Aelin’s outfit. “I have a feeling that outfit isn’t just to impress me.”

“Does that mean you’re not impressed?” Aelin asked, pretending to pout.

Elide looped her arm through Aelin’s and led her to the bar. “I’m always impressed, but I don’t think you care so much about my opinion, do you?”

Aelin snorted as she began to look around, but Elide saved her the struggle.

“He’s on the patio with Lor,” Elide said, simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag his ass back in here soon and Rowan will follow.”

Elide poured them both a shot, which Aelin gladly took and even asked for another. But when Manon and Asterin Blackbeak showed up, she waved Elide off to go greet her friends, and leaned against the bar, debating on a third shot.

She wasn’t trying to get shitty tonight, just a little messy, but her nerves were beginning to grow again.

Just as she decided to say fuck it, and get another shot, and heard a whistle from behind her. She turned and found Dorian Havilliard staring at her legs.

Or maybe he was staring at her ass.

They had messed around her freshman year, when his dorm room was just down the hall from hers, but it had never been anything more than that between them, and they agreed that they were better as friends. It didn’t mean they didn’t have fun though.

She smirked as she tossed the glass back and set it down on the bar top, before turning to him. “See anything you like?”

“I see quite a few things I like,” he said, raising his drink in salute. “Then again, only a fourth of your skin is covered, so there’s a lot to look at.”

Aelin laughed, quietly, and clinked her empty shot glass against his full bottle. “Gotta show off what the gods gave me.”

“As you should,” he agreed with a wink. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Well, it is school, and I actually study,” Aelin said, turning to refill her shot glass.

Dorian had the audacity to look offended. “Hey, I study, too.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back around. “Reading a bunch of books that have nothing to do with any of your classes doesn’t count as studying, Dor.”

“But they’re so much more interesting,” he replied, chuckling as he thought of the boring curriculum he studied for his pre-law degree.

Aelin rolled her eyes as she tossed back the shot and set it behind the bar. Four shots was enough. She’d be fun, she’d be confident, but she wasn’t tipsy enough to make an ass of herself.

Yet.

“I assume all of this skin isn’t for me, so who are you trying to impress?” Dorian asked, and then added, with a wink, “Chaol?”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ended in a disaster and I’m not inclined to repeat it.”

The sliding glass door opened and Aelin’s eyes snapped to the door, before she quickly turned away before Lorcan and Rowan stepped inside.

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled, softly. “Whitethorn then.”

It wasn’t a question.

He had moved imperceptibly closer and she knew how it would look to Rowan. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted him to be jealous she was talking to another guy.

Even if she had no idea whether or not he’d even noticed her.

“Is this who I am now?” Dorian asked, quietly, leaning into her ear, fully aware that it looked like he was coming onto her. “Your super hot wingman?”

Aelin snorted, and didn’t bother moving away. “My overly cocky wingman, maybe.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “I still take it as a compliment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting up Manon instead of fake flirting with me?” Aelin whispered, quietly. She glanced at Rowan, who was filling up a red solo cup.

“I like to make Manon wait,” Dorian said, running a finger up Aelin’s forearm. “She gets jealous, too, and it makes things so much more exciting in the bedroom.”

“Thanks for the image, Dor,” Aelin said, pushing away the need to roll her eyes and flick him in the nose.

He and Manon weren’t exclusively in a relationship, but everyone knew they hooked up with each other, and only each other. But, again, totally not exclusive.

“Besides,” Dorian mused, his finger skimming Aelin’s arm. “She’s busy doing body shots with Asterin. I’ll enjoy her later.”

Aelin snorted, reaching behind the bar and pulling an ice cold beer from the open cooler. She handed it to him and he opened it for her, flicking the cap in the air as if it were a coin.

He let it fall to the bar top as he leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time. “Pretty sure that’s my cue.”

She followed his gaze across the room, and found Rowan looking at her. Watching her and Dorian both.

“Have fun,” he added, before sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Rowan watched Dorian walk away to the other side of the room where he sat to watch Aedion and Fenrys continue to dominate in beer pong.

When Rowan’s eyes trailed back to Aelin, she was already watching him, a slightly-forced mischievous smile on her lips.

On the inside, she felt like she was going to puke.

He made his way across the room, pausing in front of her and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, and she wasn’t sure why it sounded so breathless.

“I didn’t see you get here,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

She did the same, fighting the urge to toss her hair over a shoulder. “You were outside.” She realized that told him she was keeping tabs on him and she quickly added. “I mean, Elide told me Lorcan was outside, so I assumed you had to be with him.”

He smirked. “Right. Well, I was. It’s a little crowded in here.” She nodded, but he went on. “However, seems like you didn’t mind when Havilliard was over here with you. Not too crowded for you, then, huh?”

Aelin slowly lifted a golden brow. If Rowan wanted to play, she would play. “Not crowded enough for someone to be blocking your view of me with Dorian, apparently.”

A light lit up Rowan’s green eyes as his jaw twitched, suppressing a grin. “I can always count on you to manipulate my words and their meaning, Galathynius.”

Aelin’s grin was wide. “Someone has to keep you in your place, Whitethorn.”

“And is that you?” He asked, voice low as he took a drink from his cup. “The person that’s going to keep me in my place?”

Aelin’s eyes glittered as she took another drink. It was always easy with Rowan. They could talk for hours, that witty banter, back and forth. But, that’s all that had ever happened between them: simple conversation.

From the way she caught him watching her legs as she took a drink, though, she thought tonight may just end up as she planned.

A hell of a lot more than simple conversation.

“Want to dance?” She asked.

His eyes slowly slid up her body to meet her gaze. “You know I don’t dance, Ace.”

She took a long, slow drink from her bottle. “Not even with me?”

“Not with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms and resting a hip against the bar.

It was a miracle no one had interrupted them, but the bulk of the drinks had been set up in the kitchen.

“That’s a shame,” Aelin sighed, finishing off her beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can. “I would love to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Rowan said, “I’m sure you can find someone, especially with how you’re dressed tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “And how is that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look drop dead fucking sexy,” he replied, without missing a beat. “I just don’t get why.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked.

“Why try so hard?” He asked, head cocked to the side. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Cocky bastard. She could see it in his eyes, he knew what he was doing and she hated him for it.

Hated that she loved it, anyway.

“What need would I have to impress anyone?” Aelin asked, chin raised. “I think I’m naturally perfect in every way.”

Rowan chuckled. “Then you should’ve come in your sweatpants and a tank top.”

Aelin rose a brow.

Rowan shrugged. “I think that’s when you’re sexiest.”

With that, with his cup pressed to his lips, he turned and walked away.

Aelin blinked after him, not sure she was sure she heard him right. He made his way through the people and headed back to the door leading out onto the balcony, stopping to say something to Lorcan. He waved him off and then Rowan was slipping back outside, while Aelin just started after him.

She pushed her way through the crowd, which was easier said than done when you weren’t a six-foot-four giant who mildly scared the shit out of everyone by scowling at them, but she eventually made it to the door. Sliding it open, she stepped out into the balmy night air.

“You can’t say shit like that and then just disappear,” Aelin said, finding him exactly how she’d expected to.

Rowan was leaned against the wall, the sole of one booted foot pressed against it as well. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. She gave him shit about smoking all the time, but knew he only did it when he drank.

Or when he had something on his mind.

He held the cigarette out to her, but she gave him a look. “You know better than to offer me that.”

Rowan just grinned and put it back between his lips. “You’re missing the party.”

“What did you mean?” Aelin asked, standing opposite of him, leaning against the railing.

“When?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” she snapped, and it got his attention.

Blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air, he met her gaze and slowly shook his head. He gestured to her outfit, to the heels that were making her feet ache. “What is this?”

“They’re clothes,” she said. “For a party.”

“They’re Lysandra’s,” he replied, simply.

“I can’t wear my roommate’s clothes?” Aelin scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight-.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re just trying to impress someone?” he interrupted, watching her, that light in his eye fading. “You’ve never been not-confident a day in your life. Whoever it is that you’re trying to impress, he obviously isn’t worth it if it causes you to be someone you’re not.”

Aelin looked down at the cropped halter top, the skirt that hardly reached her thighs, the heels that she was certain would cause blisters. “This is someone I’m not?”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “Last time we went out, you wore that little golden slip dress….” He shook his head, reminiscing on the memory. “That was you. You wore sneakers and you were still barefoot halfway through the night, dancing on the patio. What you’re wearing now - yeah, you look gorgeous - but I can tell you’re not comfortable in it.”

“If I’m trying to get someone’s attention, maybe my usual isn’t best. Especially if it pushes me out of my comfort zone,” she snapped back, her hands on her hips. “And why is it such a problem if I’m trying to impress someone? Dorian was impressed.”

“Dorian doesn’t drool all over you like a dog in heat,” he replied. “He respects you, regardless of what you’re wearing, how much skin you’re showing off. But if you’re trying to impress some D bag who will only notice you if you’re dressed like that, you might want to reconsider.”

“And what if I was trying to impress you?” She asked, getting in his face, cigarette smoke and whiskey breath be damned. “What if I was trying to get your attention, Rowan?”

His jaw locked and his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to find the underlying meaning in what she was saying, even if there wasn’t one.

“Then you’d be wasting your time,” he said, at last.

It felt like a knife had been shoved into Aelin’s ribs with every word that had come out of his mouth. Begging herself not to cry in front of him, she went to take a step away, but Rowan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

Their chests were nearly touching, and his hand trailed from her wrist, into her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.

He took the cigarette from his lips and said, “You’d be wasting your time because you impress me every time that I’m around you.”

“You never act like it,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You never do anything, and you’ve never tried to make a move. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

He flicked the cigarette over the rail and let go of her hand, only to frame her face with both of his. “This.”

And then his lips were on hers, and Aelin didn’t care that she could taste residual smoke or stale beer. She knew she didn’t taste much better. All that mattered was that Rowan was kissing her and his hands were on her face and hers were tangled up in his shirt. His tongue slid against hers and she had to fight to stop the moan that threatened to slip out of her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “That,” he said, breathlessly. “That is what you should have done to get my attention.”

Aelin swallowed, harshly. “Do it again.”

Rowan didn’t have to be convinced. His hands slid down her back as he brought his mouth to hers, and he pulled her body uptight against his. They stayed out there for a long time, for hours, uninterrupted.

At one point, she saw Dorian come by and lock the balcony door, so everyone else would get the hint to stay the hell away.

Wingman of the year.

They stayed on the balcony, kissing and laughing and kissing some more, until the party wound down. Around two, Lorcan let them inside, and Aelin pulled Rowan out of the apartment and across campus to her own.

True to Lysandra’s word, she was nowhere to be found.

The second Aelin stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels and was swept into Rowan’s arms. He carried her into her bedroom, where he stripped her down, out of her roommate’s clothes.

Rowan Whitethorn saw all of her.

She had his full attention.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #prompts #collab #snacmc

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khaleesiofalicante · 2 years

Note

Today (yesterday?)'s been shit so let's gooo

LEXI!!!

Hopefully we can get some communication

SLEEP IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING

the real tragedy would be if anything happened to dorian

MY GIRL IS SEVENTEEN TODAY THEY ARE GROWIGNG

Aww she just whispered it and left...

selena's sleeping...like actually sleeping

god that is some good shit

GABRIEL

“Nope. Rapunzel is currently on Sleeping Beauty mode.”

LMAO I-

oh fuck it's also the day she met michael

“No. Of course not. She wouldn’t want that. Just…Fuck Michael, okay? We just need to remind her that she still has so much love in her life.”

Lexi smiled at that. “I think I can do that.”

She banged the bedroom door open back again and jumped on her twin. “SELENA! I LOVE YOU!”

first of all, yes!!! give her all your love!!

lexi i see you took that a little too literally but yes as you should

“Y’all cute,” Lexi pointed out.

MOOD

liv isn't coming...?

or maybe like gabriel she didn't realise you had to rsvp

LEXI! TALK TO HER! AND RUN AWAY!

YOU CAN FLY

FLY AWAY

AWW THEY DID GET TO GO TO DISNEY

oh shit medical emergency

ok but genuiely do shadowhunters not have iratzes?

just saying...

Even if Selena's likes doing this, y'all need to learn how to do first aid smh

i hit my head the other day, why does it still hurt

ouch

ok anyway

“And those cracks hold many traumatic memories,” Lexi said dramatically. “Memories that can only be replaced with the latest iPhone.”

LMAO LEXI-

so true baby you deserve a new one

JACE TOTALLY DID

AYYY THE BASKETBALL EQUIPMENT IS HERE YAY

It used to be an empty space.

A place where they would train or clean their weapons or practice their runes.

But it was a place where they could relax and play.

Because of Rafael.

I feel so happy everytime it comes up how rafael made these changes

im so proud

there is no way the hoop is taller than david how is he standing under it

FAIRIE BUILDERS

JACE SHDUYSUHDYU

ooo this sounds good

sigh...lexi you have wings

oh no wait-

lexi you can fly

FLY TO LA

I miss her because I love her.

you will find me in the corner crying

actually no i think i have dehydrated myself enough yesterday so no crying

but i will be sitting there in the corner in my despair

SDBUIYDCSUHKDF JACE AND SIMON-

LMAO DAVID UNDERSTOOD THE ASSINGMENT

David’s arm was stretched out, holding the phone to take the selfie. His face was scrunched up, his blue eyes closed, as if he was giggling – probably because Max was licking his cheek.

THIS IS SO ADORABLE

She had given too many excuses. She had overcompensated.

lexi...im sorry

im sure she had a good reason

This is what happened when you didn’t have shit to do.

You do dumb shit instead.

so true bestie

all the time

aww their friendship

AHH SHE WANTS TO GO TO THE TOKYO INSTITUE FOR HER TRAVEL YEAR

“I have a gift for you,” Georgia said softly when they went back to her bedroom.

“I love it!” Lexi said.

“I haven’t even shown you what it is,” her parabatai pointed out.

“But I already know it’s some dope shit,” Lexi grinned.

IT TOTALLY WILL BE

OMG DID GIGI MAKE HER A SWORD???

“Why would I need a feather from Raziel?” Gigi asked. “I have you.”

so you want me to cry? because i dont think i have enough water in my body

im gonna go buy some gatorade soon but still

HOLY SHIT THIS SWORD

Be Gay. Do Crime.

it's the best thing ever

“You don’t have to do things to be amazing, Lexi. You are amazing because of who you are. And that’s enough.”

EXACTLY

YOU ARE SO AMAZING LEXI AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

OMG THEY ARE SPYING ON SELENA AND GABRIEL

David, being David, smiled on command.

that's so cute

MAX AHJYGYUUYTYFYT

they basically shopped in the same section.

I CHOKED

gasp

selena's wearing a crop top

this is the cutest shit ever omg they are all having fun and they are alive and happy

Of course, Selena had invited a silent brother to her birthday party. Lexi couldn’t help but smile at that.

“You look like you are good at brooding,” Lexi pointed out. “Sit here and brood with me.”

She expected him to metaphorically roll his eyes and give a finger and walk away.

But he sat down. On the fucking edge.

aww selena invited him

LMAO THEY ARE BOTH JUST SITTING THERE-

HAS HE BEEN SPYING ON THEM OR SOME SHIT???

I have been through this enough times with your ancestors. So, I will spare you of the drama and the pain. Go tell her you like her. That’s all you need to do.

SO TRUE BESTIE

oh...oh my god olivia got her the potion

Alexandra. Do not make me push you off the rooftop.

LEXI STOP BEING IN DENIAL

Believe me. You are not the first Herondale to drag yourself into such a mess.

you really are not

sigh, james

She could always count on her ancestors to keep the bar low when it came to quality decision-making.

SO FUCKING TRUE

Nothing, Brother Enoch said, There is no wrong way to love.

Lexi bit her lip. “But what if it’s toxic?”

If it is toxic as you say, then it is not love. It is something else.

YES!!!!

Lexi it is not too late

go to her

I’ve become somewhat fond of the Herondales. I blame this ailment entirely on Jem Carstairs.

“Ailment?” Lexi demanded with a grin. “Please. You love us.”

That would be a gross exaggeration, the silent brother said, Now go. Talk to her. I’m done with Herondales pining for this century.

LMAO JEM-

THIS IS SO CUTE

he old

SHE GOT HER HGIH FIVE

It was Achilles who opened the door, rubbing his eyes. He gasped in shock. “Oh my god, it’s happening!”

LMAO ACHILLES IS SUCH A MOOD

“I was literally more likely to be attacked by a demon than be visited by you.”

Oh shit

they are both idiots

“This fake thing we did?” Lexi asked. “It was the realest shit I’ve done.”

im actually tearing up dude wtf

THEY KISSED EVERYONE SHUT UP

The kiss was very good and very gay.

of course, have a good day

“You had a fucking angel inside you, Lex,” Liv’s pointed out.

Cause that's just a thing people told her now.

that's just the new norm

“It wasn’t because you had extra angel,” the girl said softly. “You survived all of that because that’s who you are. You are strong and you are amazing, and you are the most incredible person I’ve met.”

olivia be spitting facts

FUCK RAZIEL YEAH

“Fuck Raziel,” Lexi said again. “You’ve always been my angel. Olivia. You are the only angel I care about.”

oh my god oh my god oh my god

YES THEY ARE DATING FOR REAL

the tokyo institute seems so cool omg

“Did you seriously just book a date with me one year into the future?” the other girl chuckled.

“No,” Lexi said and pulled back. “I booked a date with you for the rest of my life.”

HOLY SHIT THEM OMG OMG OMG

IM SO IN LOVE

AWW SHE FELL ASLEEP

“Then it would be nice of Herondales to pass down something other than recklessness and a complete disregard for safety.”

true asf

i wouldnt say all nephillim...ok maybe clary's right

“Lexi. Look at me,” her mother said fiercely. “You don’t need special powers to help other people. You can just do it like everyone else. All you need is a good heart.”

“But what about the flying?”

“You keep that for yourself,” her mother smiled. “You don’t have to use every part of yourself to make others happy. You are allowed to keep something for yourself.”

do what feels right to you

and don't let anyone else tell you what "right" should be

you'll be fine, love

“Then that’s fine too,” her mother smiled. “All that matters is that you live a life that makes you happy. So, all you need to do is figure out what that is. That’s going to take time, baby. And that’s good. Take your time to figure out what you want and what makes you happy. Don’t rush this. It’s too important.”

EXACTLY

As long as you're happy, it doesn't matter

The swors's name is pressure...it's nice

“The sword. I’m going to call it Pressure,” Lexi explained, picking up the golden sword. “I can’t change my last name. It’s not easy for me. It's never been easy for me. But it’s not easy for whoever is going to come after me either, isn’t it? This pressure won’t go away. We’ll just keep passing it down. So, we might as well pass something else too. A good pressure. Something they don’t have to fight. Something they can fight with.”

lexi...Lexi im so proud of you

I love you so damn much

oh my god I am just realizing it is ending...I am going to miss her so much I already do.

I am so proud of her, she deserves everything good and more.

You remind me so much Lexi.

And I am very proud of you too.

And you deserve everything good and more.

#ily kay bye #evie boo thang #lbaf

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thebookworm0001 · 3 years

Text

My very messy thoughts/highlights during the da writer’s stream today

John Epler hits up name generators

Sheryl Chee- scout Harding was originally ‘steel Harding’ b/c she wanted a porn name for the male scout that later became lace (wanted to keep the action-movie sounding name)

Patrick Weekes has a riding crop. presumably related to a ‘bdsm and kermit’ question that’s mentioned

Sten has a ugly cookie sweater that ends mid-chest. Sten has an ugly cookie sweater turtleneck crop top

Companion Spider fears: Bull-funny version=demons, real answer=the dead who were killed in seheron; josie - failing her family/live up to her family name (Patrick says sticky notes w/her appts running away from her); Blackwall - younger bloody awful Tom Rainier, or worms;

What flavor are the frilly cakes that solas loves (self righteousness, says Chee) Patrick says they’re an ‘anderfels chocolate interior and Apricot filling; ganache on the top, maybe buttercream but that may be too sweet - he likes spicy. maybe a piece of fruit on the top. Epler says solas says his fav is obscure but in reality he just likes vanilla (Karin Weekes - ‘over complicating the hell out of everything’)

P.Weekes ‘there’s a deep process to this and that process is I’m kind of a hack’

Who would make you the best breakfast. P.Weekes- “oh bull would make you breakfast ;););)” a lá Joey tribiani; blackwall does the drinking eggs breakfast. So would bull then hit the pastry isle. Josie is buying out the market and hiring someone to make it; cole gives you three fresh (uncracked, uncooked) eggs, a carrot with dirt on it, and a stuffed animal you lost as a child;

Fav holidays/vacation - Josie says it’s wintersend/Christmas but by the end she’s burnt out and it’s actually something more lowkey like valentines or st patricks; combo of festivals/quasi-April fools in thedas for Solas (seems silliest but it’s about freedom) wouldn’t do the pranks but smile at the people doing them, blackwall believes he doesn’t deserve holidays so he goes back to his barn and cries “why would you write characters if you don’t want to beat them up constantly” - Chee

Which companions who’ve never met do you think would be fun together - Patrick-Wynne and Cole (cole gets a mom), Solas and Dog; Chee- Isabella and Sera, also Isabella and Josephine, Sten and Iron Bull; Sylvia- Isabella and Josie, Shale and Ironbull, Zev and Blackwall; Karin - Dorian and Wynne (they go clubbing together)

Question: ‘Why did they make Solas so damn Thicc’

Patrick. Is. Killing. Me.

I don’t. You just have to watch it. Oh my god. There is no way to transcribe this.

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 37: A Trevelyan’s Word

Tristan and Dorian spend some much needed quiet time together. Some fluff, a tiiiiny bit of angst (blink and you’ll miss it), and some important conversations.

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Libraries had always been one of Dorian’s favourite places to be, ever since he could remember himself.

After having lived in so many different Circles, and having worked and studied in many more, gravitating towards the nearest library wherever he happened to be was something like second nature to him. He remembered the layout of every one he’d visited in startling detail: the neat rows of bookcases of the Carastes Circle; the circular library tower of the Circle of Trevis, with its tinted glass windows that had been specifically designed to protect the priceless tomes from the scorching sun and the dust; the vast Library of Minrathous, where one could easily lose themselves in unless they had a chart, a compass, a detailed floor plan and perhaps said a prayer or two. Regardless of the size, layout or method of archiving, finding what he was looking for had always been a swift matter, each library’s secrets revealing themselves to him readily after one brief sweep of the many rooms and shelves.

Never once had he encountered a library as reticent as the one in Skyhold.

After several months there, he still could not figure out the organisational system that the books had once been stored in. He’d assumed it was because of all the different kinds of people that had once resided there, but even in the oldest and most dilapidated libraries he had visited there was some method to the madness. In Skyhold, however, there was just madness.

Books on Pyromancy, which he had personally moved to the top floor - where they belonged, alongside the treatises on Primal magic- would magically appear on the lower floor shelves, alongside the tomes on Entropy magic. The scrolls of ancient Tevinter glyphs and spells, which he had found after sorting through the multitude of Chantry books that seemed to be practically sprouting out of the soil in that place, and that he had painstakingly cleaned from dust and arranged in alphabetical order in the booth next to his own, had now disappeared into thin air. The apprentice archivists, when he’d asked them, had simply stared at him with the sparkling gazes of well-fed heifers. One of them had had the audacity to look him straight in the eye and unironically say:

“If it’s Spirit glyphs you’re interested in, why don’t you read Former Second Enchanter Muriel’s research? Those scrolls you're looking for are outdated, anyway.”

Outdated? Outdated! The very notion had had Dorian grinding his teeth. As if seeing Former Second Enchanter Muriel’s sour visage every day, and listening to her endless tirades about Tevinter and anything else that displeased her wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t touch that tiresome crone’s research with a ten foot pole— no, make it twenty feet. One could never be too safe.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he shoved the book on Alchemy he’d found lying forgotten by the side of the wrong bookcase back in its proper shelf. If he’d known the level of ignorance and buffoonery he would be met with in the South, he would have seriously reconsidered ever leaving Minrathous. Oh, certainly, his homeland was a nest of vipers, but at least Tevinters knew how to organise a dratted library.

Now, if only he could find who in the Maker’s dratted name had gone through his dratted scrolls—

A glance at the research table across the rotunda promptly answered his question.

“Helisma,” he grumbled through clenched teeth as he stomped towards her. Priceless scrolls and documents were gathered willy-nilly in her arms, as well as the arms of the two apprentices that trailed her. The Tranquil looked up at him calmly when he barred her way.

“May I ask what on earth you have been doing with all the scrolls? You are the one who snatched them away, and don’t you even try to deny it.”

“I moved them to the underground storage rooms.”

That she could deliver those lines without an ounce of emotion was entirely bewildering, despite the fact that she was, indeed, a Tranquil. He forced his lips into a tight, sarcastic smile. “Why would you do that, pray tell? What have the poor things done to offend you so? Surely whatever it was could have been resolved over some tea and crumpets, instead of banishment to the nearest dungeon.”

She simply blinked at him, her tone completely flat as she informed him, “The upper levels of the library are reserved for leather bound tomes and codexes. The underground storage rooms are where scrolls, manuscripts and loose documents should be kept.”

“Helisma, my dear,” Dorian uttered tightly, trying his best not to lose his composure and start yelling in the middle of the library where everybody and their aunts could hear, “we have been over this. There is no reason for the scrolls to be there. They are needed here, where they can be used. The storage rooms are as damp as it gets, certainly you must be able to see that keeping ancient and fragile scrolls there is not the wisest course of action?”

“The humidity in the storage rooms is less than forty percent. That is lower than the Circle of Amaranthine’s storage rooms by five point two degrees.”

“And you’re saying it as if it’s a good thing? If the humidity in the Minrathous library was half as high, the master archivist would be having an apoplexy!” Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath. There clearly wasn’t any way of making sense of this, and he would sooner teach a mule to dance than talk Helisma out of her ways. “Very well. Have it your way. I’ll see what I’ll be able to salvage from this mess.” He sniffed and tossed his head back in defiance as he turned around and stomped back the way he’d come, leaving a blank-eyed Helisma behind.

The chill in the lower vaults was unmistakable, cutting through his many layers of clothing and piercing him right to the bone. Dorian resisted the urge to frown as he gathered his cloak around his shoulders. Any more of that, and he would getting wrinkles before his time, and he had enough as it was. Ever since coming to the South, he had noticed a few more around his eyes that he was sure had not been there a few months before. If this went on any longer, he would be looking like a shrivelled up prune by the time this entire Inquisition business was done.

The stray thought made him stop short, there, in the half dark and quiet of the vaults. Part of him wasn’t sure if he wished the Inquisition business to be done, he realised. Of course, he wanted Corypheus and his Venatori to be defeated, more than anyone. If this were done, the world would have a chance to recover, and with it his country’s reputation. Still… the thought of the future brought with it a certain amount of trepidation. Trevelyan would ultimately be the one to face all those dangers, and no one knew how he would be affected. His life was on the line, day after day, and Dorian more than anyone could see how it was stretching him thin. Even if everything went according to plan though, even if they both survived this ordeal, no one knew what the future held for the two of them. For the time being, they were bound by this common cause. Beyond this… only time could tell.

The worry and unease that he so often tried to brush away slithered to the surface. Dorian took a deep breath to quell it. There was no point thinking of the future, when everything about the present was so uncertain. Trevelyan was alive and well now, as much as he could be, and that was all that mattered.

Brushing the thoughts aside, Dorian turned right as soon as he’d reached the storage room he was looking for. It was the farthest down the corridor, with only a lone torch burning.

Torches. Amidst all this paper. The horror.

The sounds beyond the door of the storage room quickly revealed that there was someone else there, shifting through the many scrolls and documents in the cramped space. At least she had the sense to conjure a small ball of light, which was now hovering above her as she searched, its halo glossing her cropped black hair. She gave a small start when she heard him entering, her large blue eye widening.

“Lord Pavus,” Grand Enchanter Fiona breathed, pressing her palm to her chest. Or was it just Fiona, now? “You frightened me.”

“My apologies,” he said. He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced at the scrolls she had been shifting through. “I see I wasn’t the only one who has found the scrolls Helisma has banished down here useful.”

“Ah, yes. She does have some strong opinions about where everything should be stored. I’m not entirely certain I agree.”

She gave Dorian the barest hints of a smile. Their interactions had always been kept serious and professional, both of them taking care not to linger in each other’s presence too long, despite them practically sharing the same workspace. At first, it was because Dorian wasn’t quite sure what to make of her, and he had the suspicion that his presence made her just as uneasy. However, he had soon found out that she didn’t particularly invite any interaction beyond the typical. The former Grand Enchanter and Grey Warden had kept a low profile ever since joining the Inquisition, more so after they had taken permanent residence in Skyhold, and Dorian didn’t blame her for that. There had been enough talk about her, even without her stirring any sort of trouble or gossip.

Even so, the fact that the former leader of the mage rebellion, who had —unknowingly, allegedly— struck a deal with the Venatori and had been banished from Ferelden because of it, could go by largely unnoticed at all was an impressive feat. Still, she managed to do just that. Most days.

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for? Can I be of any help?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. You’re much better versed with those scrolls than I assume I am.” A compliment? That was promising. “I’m searching for Magister Domitius’ research on reanimated undead. I do remember seeing a copy a while ago, in loose papers, but it disappeared before I had time to properly bind it. Have you perhaps seen it?”

Dorian narrowed his eyes in thought as he looked around the stacks. It didn’t take long for him to spot a few sheets of paper hastily rolled and bound with a leather cord. “That seems to be it,” he said as he dragged it out carefully and handed it to her. Fiona inclined her head in gratitude, unwrapping the document with slow, careful motions.

“Thank you. That was most helpful.”

“Anytime.” Dorian took a step back, giving the mage some time and space to inspect the discovery. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she read, her lips pursing in thought. She was short in stature, and could easily be overlooked if she wished it to be so. Yet there was something about her, a commanding presence and a stubborn streak that was hard to define, and to hide.

“I studied this one many years ago," he mused, crossing his arms before his chest. "It’s a rather interesting treatise, although some of the glyphs for releasing the spells that bind the undead are quite crude.”

“Crude, but effective. That is just what is needed right now. I hear the undead have claimed many lives all over Thedas, and will likely claim many more.”

“So grim, so early in the day? Grand Enchanter, I expected more from you.”

The elf glanced up at him, her lips quirked in amusement. “Former Grand Enchanter, if you please. Or you can just call me Fiona, as everyone else does these days.” The smile faded away as she looked down at the scroll once more. “One does learn to be grim after seeing as many deaths as I have. It is a hard thing to shake off.”

The silence that followed between them was somewhat awkward, with her carefully studying the writing on the yellowed and musty pages. Still, if there was something Dorian was good at, that was filling the silence. “So how come you’re studying the undead? I wasn’t aware that necromancy was your field of study.”

“It is not. The Inquisitor reported a large number of demons and undead in Crestwood, and some of the Inquisition mages were assigned with coming up with strategies to defend the villages until the Inquisitor is able to close the rift. I have experience battling the creatures, so I volunteered to investigate the matter further and to train the new recruits.”

Dorian’s stomach tightened ever so slightly. There were so many issues that demanded Trevelyan’s attention, he often wondered how the man found time to eat or sleep. He certainly seemed to be doing much less of both these days. That he found time to spend with Dorian at all when they were in Skyhold was a marvel in and of itself. Even before leaving for Crestwood, before the ordeal they’d both been through with the demon, he'd seemed so gaunt and pale, wrung out. The Inquisition was stretching him thin. Dorian wondered if ever the time would come that it would break him.

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow past the knot in his throat. He wouldn’t let it come to this, not if he could help it. He would stand by him, help him as much as he could. That was what a partner did, after all, wasn’t it?

“It is very noble of you, to offer to help with the matter,” he told her, in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts.

“Not at all. It is the least I can do to aid the Inquisition’s efforts.” She let out a soft sigh as she rolled the scroll back up carefully. “The way things ended in Redcliffe, the Inquisitor could have demanded anything he wished. Instead, he offered us a full alliance, and our dignities back. That is not something I am about to forget.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose he could have ordered you to become the Inquisition court jesters, as I hear the Orlesians seem to be doing with their mages.”

Fiona stared at him for a brief moment, until she realised he was jesting. She let out a chuckle then, shaking her head lightly. “I am glad he did not.”

Dorian joined her in laughter, the awkwardness between them dissipating somewhat. Affection and a strange sort of pride blossomed within him when he remembered Trevelyan in the hall of Redcliffe castle, only the bearer of the mark back then, with no real authority to his name, standing tall and proud before the King of Ferelden himself and declaring the mages equal partners of the Inquisition. Everyone had thought him mad, Dorian included. Looking back, perhaps it was around then that Dorian had fallen in love with him in earnest. A fool he certainly was, but a brave, beautiful, extraordinary fool at that.

“He has been known to make some interesting choices,” Dorian said, not quite able to hide the tenderness in his voice. “Some of them correct.”

“I dare hope it’s more than some.” She glanced up at him, and the pale light of her spell danced in her eyes. “The world has taken much from all of us, I suspect most of all from him. Still, I have faith that if anyone can see us through it all, it’s him. Not many would have done what he did. To declare an alliance with the mages, to shun the Chantry, to forge a new path, a new way of doing things... that takes courage. Or madness.”

“He has a fair bit of both.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “He is… an odd character. His ideas are odder still. Quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, and Dorian thought he saw something in her eyes, something akin to sadness, even more akin to sympathy as she regarded him. “I suppose it’s the same for you, yes?”

Dorian straightened, preparing himself to deflect the comment, to deny it, but something stopped him. He let out a soft breath instead, gazing at her levelly. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

A brief silence stretched between them. Fiona smiled fleetingly before looking down at the scrolls in her hands once more. “Thank you for your help in finding these. It is much appreciated.”

Dorian stepped to the side to let her pass. She left, her footsteps barely making a sound.

He let out a sigh into the quiet of the small storage room. Fiona’s words about Trevelyan had been kind, almost fond, and certainly much nicer than what many others he’d heard, yet even she couldn’t hide the depth of her expectations, her hopes. Dorian didn’t envy Trevelyan the power of his position much. The world expected so much of him, sometimes it did feel like it was perched upon his shoulders.

The scrolls stared at him sullenly from their shelves. Dorian pushed his shirtsleeves up and summoned a bright ball of light above his head. There was plenty of work for him to do. If everyone was doing their part to help the Inquisition, Dorian would do twice— no, three times as much.

When he lifted his head from his desk and looked out the window of the small nook in the library he called his office, it was already dark.

Dorian frowned back down at his own notes, sprawled before him messily like a blanket of autumn leaves freshly fallen from the bough. He had been poring over them for the better part of the day, after finding the scrolls he had been looking for. He was sure the copies he had made from the Venatori ritual in the Emerald Grave were correct, but they made no sense. Surely whoever had come up with those glyphs knew what they were doing, to some extent, but Dorian just couldn’t make out what they were trying to do exactly. The ritual itself was eerily similar to the one he had remembered finding years ago in the Minrathous library, but there were some fundamental differences. The Venatori had tried to control the power of the spell by tweaking central parts of the glyphs, but those they’d used for the binding clashed with the glyph right across from them, which was a bastardised version of a well-known affliction hex to weaken the subject’s mental defences. No wonder the poor people the Venatori had used the ritual on were turned to drooling, unresponsive vegetables; their mind was turned to jelly long before the actual mind-control spell was cast.

And it would be quite fortunate if that was the only problem he’d encountered. Trying to figure out the logic behind it was giving him headaches. There was something here, something that eluded him, Dorian was sure of it. That certainty only made him more intent on finding exactly how the ritual worked, and for that he needed resources that were not available to him at present. Tilani’s answer to the letter he had sent her regarding the original scroll was yet to arrive. It probably hadn’t even reached her yet.

Dorian suppressed the urge to curse the South and their terrible postal system, and reached for one of the dusty tomes he had managed to find in a forgotten part of the library instead. There was a glyph amongst those he had managed to copy that reminded suspiciously of Disthenes’ version of a glyph of paralysis. Now this, this he could work with. He had studied the Tevinter’s work extensively while he’d been holed up in the Circle of Marothius, and his memory was still fresh. If he used Disthenes’ theorems and altered the glyphs enough to make them work, in combination with Enchanter Hallesis’ equations in order to fix those horrible spirit-manipulating spells he’d seen the Venatori using...

Dorian let out a soft sigh. He probably should leave the matter alone, he knew that. There was little chance of figuring out how the ritual worked, or rather, didn’t work, without the original scroll he had asked Tilani to find. Yet, he’d already been working on this too long to let it go like this. If he was able to make some modicum of progress on his own, or better yet, find a way to work out some of the kink and errors in the glyphs he’d copied from the ritual, then he might be able to find a way to reverse it as well. The Inquisition needed knowledge like this, if they happened to chance upon a Venatori ritual like that again. Knowing what weapons and spells the Venatori had in their arsenal was half the battle, wasn’t it?

He half jolted out of his seat when he felt warm lips brushing the shell of his ear, a hand skimming his waist. “Four hundred and twenty two.”

Dorian leaned back in his chair, smiling at the sound of Trevelyan’s voice. How that man could walk up to him without making a sound, he could never understand. “Four hundred and twenty two, what?”

“Minutes. I’ve been counting.” He leaned forward, catching Dorian’s lips in a gentle kiss. The library was empty at that hour— Dorian thanked the Maker for that. He sighed as he turned around in his chair, his hand finding its way to the back of Trevelyan’s neck to deepen their kiss. He tasted of spiced, honeyed wine, with a mild undertone of the sweet and tart dried apples he always kept on him.

“Have you, now?” he murmured teasingly.

“Yes. I told you I would, didn’t I?” Trevelyan’s smile widened. “My word is my bond.”

A flush crept up Dorian’s cheeks with the warmth in Trevelyan’s gaze. He was peering at him with so much tenderness, and with their proximity Dorian could smell the warmth of his body, the faint smell of his soap. He realised then, that although they’d only been apart since that morning, he had missed him. And the fact that Trevelyan had come straight to him after finishing with his duties, with the black ink from signing his reports still staining his fingers, made him feel warmer still. He suddenly couldn’t wait to be alone with him again, to touch and kiss him freely without worrying about who was to see, to avail himself of the body that hid beneath that snugly fitting dark blue coat.

With his heart beating with a strange sort of giddiness, Dorian turned around and gathered his papers, placed them in the drawer of his desk and locked it securely. “So,” he said, standing up, “shall we retire to your quarters? I’d rather not spend another minute here, thank you very much.”

Trevelyan took his hand, threading his fingers through his. “There’s something I want us to do first.”

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#dorian pavus #dorian x trevelyan #pavelyan #dorian x inquisitor #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dorian/trevelyan #dorian/inquisitor #dorian x tristan trevelyan #dragon age fanfic #tristan trevelyan #a world with you #johaerys writes

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herosneednotapply · 2 years

Text

Flushed Part 1/?

Pairing: DorianXNate

Nate belongs to @wxr-zxne

Theme: An overstimulated mountain god helps ease his frustration with a little one on one time with his lover.

Warning: 18+, Smut, Blowjob, Heightened Libido

Dorian was frustrated for lack of a better word. His skin felt too tight for his body and he grew closer to unraveling with every passing day. As a mountain god, he had to return back to his home over so often to rest and drain the accumulated energy from his body. He hadn't even realized how long he had gone for until he felt the tell-tale prickle like electricity go down his spine. The conversations he carried on with others became shorter and sharper. Dorian's thoughts would drift away filled with the dark ideas meant only for the ears of a lover or the silence of the graveyard.

He hated to admit it but he was actively hiding from his boyfriend. Not having the chance to explain the nuances of his body and what it meant to be a Sanson before leaving on a mission. And here he was now in some random hotel bathtub filled with ice water trying to get himself under control. Dorian growled the sound reverberating off the tile and bouncing back to him as the energy burned a path through his veins. When the final spasms of pain faded away he pulled himself out of the bath allowing the water to pour off him as he leaned on the sink. Gripping the porcelain as if his life depended on it as he looked at his reflection, its eyes were filled with emotion just barely hiding under the surface. Was it rage or hunger he was unsure only knowing that he only had a few days before it simmered over?

Dorian made quick work of dressing in a simple black button-down with slacks and leaving to meet his final contact at a nearby club. He had practically bullied his higher up into allowing him to do this one last thing before he went home. When he arrived at the location he avoided any direct contact with the club-goers knowing it could leave them in a state of heightened euphoria. Settling himself on the second floor in a booth waiting for his contact to arrive. Three drinks in and he was starting to heat up again before the man approached him. Dorian gave him a dark look not at all pleased to have his time wasted. They were only about 30 minutes into the meeting when he held up a hand causing the other man to pause mid-sentence.

Standing to his feet he tilted his head back and inhaled a slow smile appearing on his lips. Dorian could practically taste the familiar scent that wafted through the air and wrapped around him. He could feel the heat begin to rise under the surface of his skin as he pulled out his phone and dialed the most recent number.

"I see you remember how to call," Nate said finally answering on the sixth ring.

"Kitten what have I told you about that smart mouth of yours?" Dorian said as he leaned over the bars of the second floor and stared down into the sea of bodies.

"Only my boyfriend calls me that. Now, what do you want?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Is this some type of lame scary mov..."

"What. are. you. wearing?" He whispered down the line voice serious as he continued to search the crowd below

"...A green crop top sweater and white knee-high boots," Nate replied after hesitating for a moment. "What does it matter?"

"And a green tartan mini skirt."

"Dorian?"

"Turn around and look up." He said watching the other man from above standing stock still in the crush of dancers. When Nate turned and looked up at him Dorian heard the gasp of surprise that mirrored the look on his face. The god gave a wicked, sharp-toothed smile as his eyes drank Nate in from the top of his blonde head to the tips of his boots. The look was at the worst full of dark promises and at the best downright predatory.

Dorian winked loving the sound of Nate's voice hitching before he hung up the phone and stepped away from the railing and back to his terrified-looking informant.

"Let's finish this up, shall we? I have a pretty blonde in a mini skirt waiting for me." He growled watching as the man grew pale and broke out in a sweat. "And I hate to keep him waiting."

By the time he was done Dorian had briefly lost track of his long-legged lover. He sighed in irritation as the other man scurried away like a rat. It didn't take him long to find Nate again from up high. It actually took him longer to move around the dance floor to get to the table he and his female companions had taken up.

Approaching the table he placed himself next to the other man one hand on the table the other placed on his lower back.

"It's wonderful to see you all again. If I had known we would meet like that I would have worn something nicer. I feel so drab in comparison to your brightly colored finery." As he spoke Dorian's hand traced along the back waistband of Nate's skirt before sliding over his exposed back. As he spoke casually with the woman he traced slow circles into the other man's skin enjoying the sound he was struggling to swallow down. He finally turned dark eyes on him looking him from head to toe. "And you...You look good enough to eat love."

#wxr zxne #thrall of the hill #ch:nate #((i write corn now))

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charincharge · 4 years

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Cruel Summer, Part 4

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Sorry about last chapter’s tag list! It seems like only half of you got notified, so, if you did not read Part 3 (it was posted Sunday), go back and read that one first, and apologies for my lack of Tumblr tech skills. I think it is fixed. FINGERS CROSSED. Okay, onward.

Aelin sips her coffee and silences her phone as it buzzes continually on the kitchen table. It’s been going off for the last two days with texts from Dorian. She lied and told him she wasn’t feeling well to give herself some space. But she knows she can only fend him off for maybe one more day or so.

Park today?

His latest text reads. It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with Dorian. She does. She really does. But, she’s just not feeling up to going to the park yet. She knows he’ll want to spend all day there, and she’s feeling less than enthused about that. And she’s sure that has absolutely nothing to do with a tall silver-haired employee she spent the better part of Monday avoiding. Nope. Nothing at all. She replies quickly.

Still sick. In bed with a fever :(

“Liar!” Dorian calls, rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Aelin grumbles as she takes a large bite of her toaster waffle. “How’d you get in here?”

Dorian slides into the kitchen chair next to her and lays his head down on the table, looking up at her with the saddest, biggest puppy dog eyes he can manage, and innocently holds up the small gold key that usually resides under the flowerpot next to the front door. Aelin grabs it back and lays her head on the table next to him. They stare at each other, their faces a few inches apart, Dorian’s eyes wide with wondering at Aelin’s frowning.

Dorian smirks and brings his hand up to boop her nose softly. Aelin scrunches her nose, but she can’t help but crack the smallest of smiles at her best friend’s efforts.

“You’ve been in a mood since Monday. What’s the deal?” he asks. “It wouldn’t happen to have to do with the red lipstick fiasco? Don’t think I didn’t notice you went back upstairs to put it on.”

“No,” Aelin scoffs, her false bravado kicking in as she pushes herself upright. “Of course not. I just remembered I had a matte stay all day lipstick, and it went better with my outfit.”

Dorian lifts himself up and stares at Aelin, his brow furrowing as he goads her, “So not wanting to go to the park has absolutely nothing to do with the hot hot silver-haired staff member you were making eyes at all day?” Dorian sighs. “Come on, Aelin. Tell meee,” he pleads. “I already know.”

Aelin flips her hair over her shoulder as she places her mug into the sink. “I’m sorry, Dor.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be sorry,” he says. “Because if we’re not going to the park, I’m going to need full details on your hot piece. And the side dish he brought with him.”

It suddenly clicks for Dorian. “Ohhhh, you’re disappointed he brought a date?” Dorian smirks. “Aelin. Not everyone can be single at your behest.”

She crosses her arms, annoyed. This is why she wanted one more day to herself. She didn’t want to talk about Rowan and his stupid rude girlfriend with her dark hipster makeup and beautifully inked skin and brightly dyed hair. If that was Rowan’s type, she had no shot of getting his attention. Not that she hadn’t tried. With the white bathing suit, and playing rough with the boys in the deep end and overzealously clinging onto Dorian’s back. Still, he hadn’t said a damn thing to her until the party ended, and only by accident.

“No,” Aelin lies. Dorian looks at her, unblinking. “Stop that.”

“You can’t let one little staff member prevent you from going to the park. It’s Ashryver Playland, and you’re Aelin fucking Ashryer. It’s your park. Let’s go reclaim our stomping grounds. Please?” he begs again, his sapphire eyes looking up at her through his thick fringe of lashes. “I promise I’ll shield you if we see him.”

“Fine.”

Dorian’s blinding smile is almost worth it. She tells him she’ll be right back and runs upstairs to get dressed for the day. She might put a little more effort into it than she would for just Dorian, but there’s no harm in looking cute. She braids her hair into two French braids and wiggles into a hot pink crop top and her overall shorts. She dons a full face of makeup, finishing with a pink lipstick, and finally makes her way down to where an impatient Dorian is waiting.

He holds out his arm for her, smartly not commenting on her outfit, and Aelin slips her arm through, linking them together for the fifteen minute walk down the beach to the Playland.

They’re greeted at the ticket booth by Fenrys, who is working behind the counter. He blushes upon seeing the approaching pair, and it makes Aelin smile. He hasn’t been quiet about his crush on both her and Dorian, which she thinks they would both be all over if he weren’t four years their junior. He’s shockingly good-looking with deep tanned skin and shoulder-length golden hair. He flashes them a toothy smile and Aelin can’t help but grin back, her mood lightening.

“Ah, the king and queen of Playland.” He pulls out unlimited wristbands for them. “Happy Summer.”

“Hey, handsome, happy summer,” Aelin says with a wink as he tapes on her wristband.

“Aelin, when are you going to let me take you out and make me the happiest man in Terrasen?” Fenrys asks, and Dorian snorts.

“Man? You’re not even old enough to grow facial hair,” Dorian teases, rubbing his thumb against Fenry’s bare cheek. It blooms with a rare blush under Dorian’s touch.

“I just turned twenty-one, so, who knows? Maybe this year is the year,” Fenrys says as he puffs out his chest. He bursts into laughter. “Yeah, yeah. I know you’d never date a staff member anyway. No shitting where you eat and all that.”

“Sure,” Dorian smirks. “That’s the reason.”

Aelin grabs at Dorian’s hand, pulling him away and waves goodbye to Fenrys, ready for the day. Aelin leans her head on her friend’s shoulder, her heart feeling ten times lighter. She’s buoyant, actually. She skips into the park, pulling Dorian along as she makes her way toward their first ride.

They make their way toward the biggest ride in the park – the Firecoaster, a rickety wooden rollercoaster built nearly a century ago. It’s Aelin’s absolute favorite ride in the park, so they do it first every single time, despite Dorian’s constant criticism of it (it’s too shaky, it’s too old, why haven’t they replaced the cars in a literal hundred years?).

But as they arrive at the ride she sees a short crop of silver hair at the entrance, letting people onto the coaster. Naturally.

“Maybe we should come back to the coaster later,” Aelin suggests, and Dorian’s eyebrow lifts in question.

“You know I won’t go on this ride in the dark,” Dorian replies, and Aelin nods. She really wants to go on this coaster. But with Rowan letting people on, there’s absolutely no way to avoid him. “Is he up there?” Dorian whispers and tugs at one of Aelin’s pigtails.

Aelin doesn’t answer, still unsure of how she’s going to handle the whole situation. Dorian grabs her hand and pulls her into the line. With people piling in behind them, they’re immediately stuck.

“What the hell?” Aelin hisses, but Dorian simply shrugs.

“You’re taking back your ground!” he says exuberantly.

Aelin knows he’s right, but her stomach still feels like she ate a box of rocks with how heavy it is suddenly. She watches intently as Rowan performs his job, dutifully ushering everyone into the wooden coaster cars and making sure they’re safely secured before they take off. He’s not particularly friendly, Aelin notices. He's not the kind of staff member who smiles at each person with a customer service grin, but she does take note that at he makes sure to help the smaller kids in and out with one of his steadying hands.

The line moves far too quickly, and within minutes they’re at the top of the line. Aelin knows she should look away, but as she makes her way onto the platform, she keeps her eyes trained on Rowan. When he finally turns and meets her gaze, his dark green eyes widen slightly with surprise. Aelin swallows, her mouth suddenly feeling completely parched as they share a charged, wordless stare.

It’s interrupted by the last coaster coming to a stop suddenly on the tracks before them, and Rowan scrambles to attention to help the group exit the car. Dorian pushes Aelin into the first row of the empty car, and she stumbles forward, throwing her best friend a dirty glare.

Aelin straps herself into the cart, pulling the seatbelt across her lap and clicking it securely in place.

“Everyone, hands up,” Rowan says, and he starts from the back of the car, tugging at the seatbelts to ensure the passengers’ safety.

By the time Rowan reaches the front row, Aelin’s heart is pounding in her chest, and it has absolutely nothing to do with her excitement to ride the rollercoaster.

Rowan squats down and leans his torso across Aelin, his arm lightly brushing against the front of her overalls as he reaches over her to tug on Dorian’s seatbelt. Satisfied that it’s in place, Rowan pulls back slightly, his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into a thin straight line. His head is so close to hers, she can feel his breath fan across her neck as he exhales. Despite the hot sun overhead, goosebumps break out across her arms. What the hell?

“Hey, you’re Rowan, right?” Dorian pipes up, and Aelin sends him a murderous glare as the silver-haired man looks up with a suspicious frown on his face.

“Uh, yeah. I am,” Rowan says, turning his attention to Aelin’s lap.

“Aelin’s told me so much about you,” Dorian continues, ignoring his best friend’s death stare. “Maybe we could all go out soon? Since we didn’t get to meet at the party.”

Rowan looks perplexed as he adjusts his position again to check Aelin’s seatbelt. “Um, maybe? I’m kinda busy… with work.”

Aelin is going to kill Dorian. She shifts in her seat to question him, right as Rowan reaches down to tug at her seatbelt, and she accidentally throws him off balance. Rowan falls forward a tiny bit and his hand darts out to brace himself. It comes to rest on Aelin’s knee, the rough pads of his fingers clutching against her bare skin, and if Aelin weren’t restrained, she thinks she may have jumped out of the car in shock.

“Sorry!” Rowan apologizes, snatching his hand back in pain, as if she were on fire and he’d just burned himself.

“It’s fine,” Aelin says, her voice sounding breathy to her own ears. She’s positive she’s blushing all the way down to her chest, but she refuses to look.

“Sorry,” he says again, his voice filled with apology.

She’s about to reassure him again, but he’s already walking back to the controls. Aelin looks over her shoulder to get one more look at the man who literally took her breath away with a single touch, but she can’t think about it for long.

Because soon she’s flying forward. The wind rushes across Aelin’s face, swirling around her with each twist and turn of the coaster. Laughter bubbles up from her chest, and she squeals loudly as they hit the first drop. She closes her eyes and lets the ride take her up, up and away, making her heart race.

Just as quickly as it took off does it come to a halt. Aelin unclips herself quickly and runs as fast as she can on her unsteady legs, away from Rowan’s prying gaze. As soon as she’s far enough away from the ride, she whirls around and socks Dorian in the arm. Hard.

“OW!” He clutches at his shoulder.

“Maybe we could all go out soon?” Aelin parrots his words back at him. “What the fuck, Dor?! What happened to being my shield?”

Dorian rubs his arm, slowly stoking the pain out of his dead arm. “I was doing recon. Notice he didn’t say he had a girlfriend.”

“I hate you,” Aelin says, going to punch his other arm, and Dorian runs, cowering from her absurd superhuman ability to find the most painful spot to punch.

“You love me!” he shouts as he sprints toward the log flume.

The pair chase each other from ride to ride, making the most of their day in the park. Aelin only spots Rowan once more, after his shift change, taking tickets at the Skyflyer – a ride she and Dorian have sworn never to go back on after they both tried it in high school and puked their guts out afterwards. So, conveniently, she doesn’t have to deal with that whole situation again. Which is good, because it’s starting to stress Aelin out. She’s never this strung out about a guy. Ever. Especially one that isn’t single and is definitely uninterested.

By the time the sun is setting, Aelin is more than ready to go home. She could use a long soak in the bath and a good night’s sleep. But Dorian insists on one more ride. Aelin agrees, but only if Dorian promises to buy her fried dough with Nutella on it for dessert after.

Dorian’s smile lights up his face as he pulls her towards the bumper cars. Aelin might have a little too much fun crashing into his car over and over again.

With a scoop of Nutella in her mouth, Aelin sees a shock of silver hair, finally coming in for the end of his day. She watches as he crosses the field and makes his way into the employee break room, her eyes following the motion of his lithe body. God, now that she knows what he looks like without a shirt on, she can’t stop imagining the way his tattoo crept up his taut abs, over his wide shoulders, and trailing down the side of his muscular back. It’s not fair. Why did he have to be in a relationship already? She licks her lips, tasting the warm chocolatey hazelnut spread and hums in pleasure as she imagines licking it off other places…

“Elide!” Dorian shouts, calling over their friend and breaking Aelin out of her hormone-induced trance. Elide runs over with a smile on her face for the pair.

“I’m sorry I barely saw you both at the party,” Elide apologizes immediately, but Aelin and Dorian wave her off.

“You were celebrating. With Lorcan, right? Please say yes,” Aelin says with a cheerful smile and offers a bite of her dough to Elide.

“I actually spent most of the time with a friend of mine I hadn’t seen in a few years,” Elide admits as she takes the piece from Aelin. “She used to be my RA. She’s the best. I hope you met her.”

“Really?” Dorian asks. “That’s so much fun. Who?”

“Manon Blackbeak?” Elide continues, oblivious to Aelin stiffening next to her at the table. “She came with a new guy, Rowan. She’s his roommate. Isn’t that such a crazy coincidence?” Elide rambles.

Dorian looks to Aelin and mouths “roommates” with a smirk.

“Roommates?” Aelin asks, her voice tight. “Is that all they are? Because I got kind of a datey vibe from them.” Aelin tries to keep her face impassive, but can’t when Dorian snorts at her. Aelin has forgone subtlety today, apparently.

“No, that’s impossible,” Elide says resolutely with a shake of her head.

“Because roommates have never gotten together before?” Aelin asks, her voice haughty with ridicule.

“No. Because they both like women,” Elide says with a laugh. “Or at least Manon does.”

Dorian bites his lip and looks at Aelin. His eyes frantically connect with hers before looking back at Elide, who is completely unaware of the bomb she’s just dropped.

“Is that so?” Dorian asks, and Elide nods.

“Oh yeah. Manon is a gold star and proud of it.” Elide looks at her watch. “Shit, I have to clock out. But I want to catch up with both of you later, okay? Find me next time you’re in the park?”

“Yuppp,” Aelin drawls. “Bye, babe!” Aelin waves as Dorian practically drags Aelin out to the parking lot, his torso doubled over in laugher.

Aelin frowns. “It’s not that funny.”

“It’s hilarious,” he says, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Here you were all worked up about your prince Charming having a girlfriend and she’s gay. What gave you the impression they were dating?”

“I don’t know. He brought a hot blonde to my house?” Aelin sighs. Rowan did introduce Manon as his friend. “Oh my god, I get it,” she squeaks.

“What?”

“She said this thing about keeping two of her nails short, and… I’m am so stupid.”

Dorian laughs at her, hard, and wraps his arms around her shoulders. “So, what now? Want help reeling in your man?”

Aelin smiles as she sees Rowan climbing into a beat up truck halfway down the parking lot. “No,” Aelin shakes her head as she links arms with Dorian again. “I think I’ve got it.”

~*~*~*~*~

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