#aelin galathynius fashion

[acourtofquestions]

Celaena Sardothien would LIVE for the Folklore Eras dresses

[firebringer-aelin]

desperately in need of another character like aelin galathynius/rose hathaway/buffy summers to obsess over

[acourtofquestions]

Oh my word yasssssssssssssss

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius & Rowan Whitethorn (Throne of Glass)

Art: fantasai.books

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 2

Propaganda why Marinette Dupain-Cheng is insufferable:

She easily gets away with bad, stalkerish behavior, it always feels like she can ‘do no wrong’ unless the show wants us to pity her, and the show writers want us to think she is a quirky and socially awkward girl when throughout the series we see her be friends with basically everyone in Paris with many connections to high up places.

I get she has social anxiety but the way she goes about stalking Adrien is kind of the worst like she even has creep shots of him hanging in her room? That’s weird. I think Adrien’s going through enough without having to deal with the main character being his stalker lol. I know they’re (spoilers) at this point but in the beginning it was so sus

In the newest season, Marinette hides the fact that Hawkmoth was Adrien’s dad. This leads to the bastard getting a statue and honored as a hero after his death. Adrien now never gets to know the fact that his abusive and neglectful father was the one trying to kill him and is instead proud of him.

Her crush on Adrien is like a black hole for her character. Things she’s done because of it:

1) stolen property

2) ruined dates

3) humiliated other characters

4) has a chart of Adrien’s daily schedule for the next year in her room (this is stalking)

5) broke into his room and sniffed his pillow (also a crime)

6) sniffed, took the hair from, and tried to kiss what she thought was a wax statue of Adrien

7) convinced her parents to let her go to China. Why? Not because she wants to connect with her mother’s heritage, not even because she’s a budding fashion designer and Shanghai is considered a fashion hotspot. It’s because Adrien was there.

I started the show, watched one episode, and never tried again. I simply do not vibe with her.

shes annoyinng anf shes a stalker

I love fanon miraculous but by god she has got to stop obsessively stalking her crush and generally making a ton of other terrible decisions. I’d submit Adrien too but he’s more of a deuteragonist

More propaganda

Anti propaganda

Propaganda why Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is insufferable:

Your basic Mary Sue. Styled as the incredibly cool best-assassin in the land at only 18, she nevertheless is constantly snuck up upon, distracted by pretty boys, and possesses not an ounce of wit. In a competition between murderers and thieves to win a place as the King's Champion, she sees a bag of chocolates on her bed that she didn't put there and immediately starts eating it and gushing about how much she adores chocolate - nevermind that they just had a trial involving poison, which several of her competitors are adept at. She's always right, and other characters exist just to tell her how awesome and beautiful and wonderful she is. And then she turns out to be a super special magical fey princess!

I generally don't believe that a Mary Sue is a bad thing, but the only thing I remember about this book was how she had been in prison for years but was super young but was also still the most super-specialest assassin. And she kept reading when she should have been training or sleeping. Like, girl, this is not final exams where you can stay up all night and then roll into class in your pajamas and still squeak out a C. It's supposed to be life and death. Her character traits didn't make her relatable, they made her a moron

Heir to a kingdom plus turquoise eyes plus best assassin in the world plus protagonist centered morality

Anti propaganda

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Older but Never Wiser

CW: a bit of language

AN: Happy (almost belated) birthday @leiawritesstories my love!! This took way longer than it should have but depending on your time zone this might not be late yet lol, I’m dusting off the cobwebs to give you a little present :)

Based on this prompt: “you’re at the high school reunion and everyone’s talking about how you and [insert jerk here] were prom queen and king, unaware you dumped them years ago, and you’re moping… until you run into your nemesis from high school and you’re thoroughly distracted” (I can’t remember where this came from, it was just in my prompts folder, maybe I came up with it? Maybe not? Idk)

1458 words

Aelin could feel her shoulders begin to hunch as she drew in on herself. She’d known Chaol would be here, of course, but she hadn’t known the subject of prom queen and king would come up so soon, nor their joint senior superlative of “most likely to get married.”

She also hadn’t known Chaol would show up with a gorgeous woman taller than her, hotter than her, certainly classier than her, and wearing a giant diamond on her finger.

“I really thought you two were going to last,” Essar said, voice dripping with pity and sorrow as if she’d truly been invested in the relationship of two high school classmates she’d hardly ever interacted with ten years ago, let alone following graduation.

Aelin smiled tightly. “Well, it was for the best. I’m much happier now with my new boyfriend.” A lie, and an obvious one at that, if Essar bothered to notice. As it was, she was clearly more interested in the piece of gossip than its verity, even a decade after high school.

Some things really didn’t change.

The subject of Chaol was a bitter one—they had lasted several years following high school, and while Aelin had had plenty of time to move on, and multiple relationships following Chaol, seeing him now brought up old insecurities. Being interrogated about the end of their relationship by some random classmate at a high school reunion wasn’t making matters better.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Aelin cut in, “I should make some more rounds. It was nice to catch up with you.” There wasn’t an ounce of sincerity in Aelin’s tone and she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

She and Essar exchanged goodbyes and Aelin fled, hurrying over to her friend Elide. Elide had been the class valedictorian and was now head of some tech company in Rifthold.

After catching up with her and a few others, Aelin headed for the refreshment table. She wasn’t one for social events, and after the tedious process of listening to the reunion’s organizers give speeches, followed by a solid half hour of unstructured mingling, Aelin was drained.

She poured herself a cup of punch. Staring into the reddish liquid at a distorted reflection of herself, Aelin sighed.

“I can’t believe Aelin Galathynius, socialite, gossip, prom queen extraordinaire, is moping at the snack table at a social event. Hell really has frozen over.”

Aelin started at the voice, looking up to see a man with stark white hair towering over her. He had certainly changed over the past decade, but the sharp pine green eyes clued her in on his identity instantly.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin drawled, grinning. “You…” She looked him over, taking in the size of his crossed arms, the deep tan, and the hard features. A tattoo snaked up his neck from somewhere underneath his shirt. Aelin whistled. “Time has served you well.”

Rowan chuckled, the sound all too familiar. “You think so?” He paused, and gave her a once-over of his own. “I could say the same.”

Aelin leaned against the table, smiling. “Do tell me what it is you do for a living. Wait—let me guess. Sly business man. Lawyer? Oh, tax collector!”

Another, louder laugh left Rowan’s lips. “I’m a child psychologist.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “Damn, okay.”

He grinned. “You’re what, a fashion designer? A housewife?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “I work at a pharmacy.”

Rowan shook his head in disbelief, smiling widely. Silence settled over the pair, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable pause—merely a moment to take in each other after so long. Aelin remembered arguing with the boy this man had once been over schoolwork, over sports, over absolutely nothing.

“Gods, tell me you’re not with that asshole anymore,” Rowan said, breaking the quiet.

Aelin blinked, then felt her lips unconsciously stretch into a another smile. “No, I’m not.”

Rowan hmmed noncommittalaly. “You two were never a good match.”

He was the first person who hadn’t offered her condolences like it was some kind of recent tragedy, and for that Aelin felt her smile turn soft. “Remind me why we hated each other again?”

A breathy laugh. “I believe that was thanks to the time you scraped up the side of my car trying to park on the very first day of junior year.”

“We were sixteen! No one could drive well at that age.” Aelin was grinning.

Rowan crossed his arms. “Or perhaps the time you literally tased me? With a fucking taser?”

Aelin let out a startled laugh. She’d completely forgotten about that. One of the football boys had hosted a party while his parents were out of town, and his mom was a cop so he brought out her taser for a game of whoever can hold onto this $20 while being tased in the hand gets to keep it. Gods, high school had been quite the experience.

“That was part of the game! You took the risk, and you lost; I can’t be blamed for that. Besides, I happen to remember you making out with my boyfriend on one occasion.”

Rowan groaned in faux embarrassment, a hand running though his short locks. “Lorcan dared us to. Besides, you’d already broken up with Dorian at that point, so it didn’t really count.”

Aelin’s face started to ache as she realized just how widely her smile was stretched. “That definitely still counts, but fine, let me think of some other instance you were an asshole to me. I’m sure there were plenty.”

Rowan shook his head, eyes dancing with mirth, and opened his mouth to make a retort—but someone else beat him to it.

“Aelin! I was so happy to spot you here. How have you been?”

Of course, it was Chaol, leering over at her in a suit far too sophisticated for the occasion.

Aelin felt a wave of calm wash over her as she realized that as much as she didn’t want to have a civil conversation with Chaol, she wanted him to have the upper hand even less.

“Chaol, my gods! I’ve been great; I take it you have been as well judging by the beautiful woman on your arm?”

The woman in question blushed, and Aelin wondered what exactly she knew about her.

Chaol grinned and held up the woman’s hand—and the ring perched on her fourth finger—like some kind of prize. “This is Yrene, my fiancée. Yrene, meet Aelin and… Ronan?”

“Rowan,” Rowan correctly coolly, then glanced at Yrene. “It’s a pleasure.”

Chaol nodded dismissively and turned back to Aelin. “Is that a new haircut?”

It had been a solid six years since she’d dated the man, and at least three since they’d crossed paths. “Yes, it is.”

“And how are you getting on with that Fenrys fellow? Still happy?”

The last time Aelin had seen Chaol had been at the grocery story—fucking small towns—with her boyfriend at the time. He hadn’t lasted more than a month.

“No.”

A flicker of glee crossed Chaol’s features, and Aelin writhed internally.

“Much to my benefit, that is,” Rowan interjected. Aelin had nearly forgotten he was still standing with them. “For now I have her all to myself.”

What?

Chaol blinked, dumbfounded. “You two are together?”

Rowan shrugged. “We reconnected a couple years ago and hit it off—better than we ever had in high school,” he added.

Aelin had just enough self-control to paste a smile on her lips. Now understanding what Rowan was doing for, she took his hand casually.

Rowan’s hand envoloped Aelin’s, and his rough calluses scraped against her palm. It took restraint not to shudder, and Chaol be damned, Aelin was no longer paying attention to the conversation. Her world focused in on the warm hand interlaced with her own.

Less interested, probably now that he’d realized he didn’t have much to hang over her head, Chaol said a farewell and retreated with the fiancée who hadn’t spoken a single word. Aelin watched them leave gratefully.

Rowan slipped his hand out of Aelin’s and she almost objected before realizing herself.

“Thank you, Rowan,” Aelin said softly.

Her gaze drifted over to him and snagged on his piercing green eyes.

Rowan stared back at her for a moment. “No problem.”

Aelin shook her head. “It wasn’t no problem. That was very kind of you.”

Rowan shook his head, but said nothing more about the endeavor. “How long are you in town?”

“A whole week. I wanted to stay with my parents for a bit.”

“And I don’t suppose while you’re here you want to grab coffee together? I still need an example of the atrocities you claim I put you through, after all.”

Aelin’s expression turned fiendish. “Does tomorrow work?”

———

Tag List (this is so outdated so lmk if you want to be removed/added!):

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@charlizeed

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@leiawritesstories

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@mybloodrunsblue

@nehemikkele

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowaelinismyotp

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@the-lonelybarricade

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

[leiawritesstories]

Aelin Galathynius is a big city fashion designer looking forward to launching her Yulemas special collection on the runway, unfortunately, the irresistibly hot gentleman who's modeling her collection just so happens to hate yulemas

oh no, how unfortunate 👀😈

I'm gonna use this for 12 Days of Rowaelin, so.....expect to see something fairly soon if I get my shit together

[aelinschild]

THREE

Holding Me Like Water In Your Hands

Main Masterlist | HMLWIYH Masterlist

And I'm back with chapter three! Apologies for the long absence, I was away without my computer, and when I got back I got very sick. But I'm pushing through. Any who, enjoy, and please let me know what you think! I really appreciate feedback.

SYNOPSIS:A cross continental move forces Aelin Galathynius to open her eyes wider than before, and at the doors of Terrasen's most exclusive and expensive private high school, she realizes her life is flowing through her. And if she wants to make the most of her life, she needs to grab onto something. Or maybe someone. WORDCOUNT: 1.8K GENERAL WARNINGS: Language, Drug use, Alcohol, Allusion to sex/intimacy, Brief descriptions of sexual assault, Domestic violence, Very severe angst, Messy Divorces (More to be added)

The sun woke me up. Lazily climbing up in the sky, beckoning me to get something done on my last free weekend before high school would begin. 

On the drive up from Rifthold, Mom spent at least twenty minutes going over every detail of my newest ‘adventure’. 

Orynth Rise High School.

An extensive campus harboring some of Orynths brightest, and most wealthy, students. Large enough to be a university campus, with buildings stretching all over the acres of land situated right on the outskirts of the city. Apparently, the school has frequent renovations to update the already luxurious conditions. Spacious classrooms, lounge areas designated for different years, and all the newest tech. 

What really piqued my interest was the Orynth Grand Library, also on campus. 

Shortly after I woke, Mom appeared at my door with a peace offering. Black coffee. The tension between us was palpable, and in true Galathynius fashion, rather than facing that, she presented me with what looked like a body bag and a thick, but sturdy book. She instructed me that I should get started on the book, and familiarize myself with the suspicious body bag, before she walked away, again. 

I've curled myself up in the chair at my antique desk, and I flip through the hundreds of pages of Orynth Rise High School’s Code Of Conduct. I flip back to the uniform section - pages 34 to 57 - and read through the bulleted lists of do’s and don’ts. 

“...under no circumstance should a student ever find themselves in anything but the accepted ORHS uniform… should weather hinder standard protocol… leisure days are prohibited and behaviour that disobeys dress code will be…”

“How fun,” I murmur, still flipping through pages of dress code regulations. There are entire pages dedicated to washing instruction. 

My eyes drift over to where said uniforms are laid out on my bed. I've been provided with two dark green blazers, lined with gold stitching and gold buttons, and emblazoned with a sweeping arc of fire, soaring hawk, and ORHS stitching over the left breast. There are two black skirts, a pair of black pressed trousers, and a black uniform dress. Plus three starched, collared white shirts. And according to the ‘Code Of Conduct’ handbook, I'll need some sort of black-heeled or flat shoe. 

My gaze sweeps over the clothes. It really could be worse. The greens not terrible, and the gold is certainly unique. The hawk is definitely something, but I'm picking different battles. 

Riftholds Private Elementary School had basic uniforms, so this isn't a foreign notion, but younger me thought high school meant more freedom, like the freedom to wear jeans or something along those lines. 

The ticking of my brass clock punctuates the silence of my room, and I can hear the front door of the house open, then close. I shift off the desk chair and move to the bay window, where I have a clear view of Evalin Galathynius speed-walking towards the Audi parked in our driveway to the three-car garage. Her phone is between her shoulder and ear as she gets into the car, then promptly reverses and speeds off. 

And suddenly the day is feeling a lot more optimistic. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two teenage-looking boys tossing around a basketball. They're out playing on the driveway of the house across the street two doors down. There's a blond and a brunette, with identical deep skin tones. They toss the ball back and forth, run circles around each other, or simply push each other over. I crack a smile when the blond tosses the ball directly at the brunette's head and it bounces off, nearly going into the net. 

Both boys look like they're around my age, and I wonder if they attend ORHS. I continue to watch them until my staring borders on stalking, and I make my move to freshen up before I explore this new house. 

-

I was born in Orynth. My Dad’s family was from here. But Rhoe and Evalin packed up and skipped town when I was three, and so I was whisked away from full evergreen trees and fresh mountain air to compact townhouses and to the heavy heat of a packed city. 

Why we moved away, I never really understood. But I also didn't know that I wasn't Ardalanian until I was nine. So while the wind coming through the window I cracked open in the kitchen smells like home, and settles onto me in a way I've never felt, I can't help but feel anxious with the lack of noise. Rifthold was loud, the city never slept. And living practically in the business center of the city meant that honking taxis and frustrated drivers were the constant background noise. 

Orynth is quiet. The mountains I can see from said kitchen window give me the impression of a sleeping giant. And capped in snow, I feel exceptionally out of my element. 

From scrounging around in the new kitchen, I find crackers and some licorice I bought at the gas station. A truly balanced breakfast. The dry crackers stick to the roof of my mouth, and the licorice tastes like plastic. I couldn't find plates, so my glorious meal is spread out on the butcher block countertop. 

The kitchen is nice, similar to the rest of the house. A navy blue theme carries throughout, decorating the large sectional couch, cabinets, and various pieces of unremarkable art. 

I feel like a weird stain upon this picture-perfect house, and to distract myself from the panic that's slowly creeping in, I pull my fancy phone out. Another Rhoe apology gift, the newest model I believe. 

I have fourteen unread messages from Dorian, some emails about promotional things I will never read, and a missed call from an unknown number. My phone tells me it's spam. 

>For the love of gods, answer your fucking phone

Dorian can be aggressively loving. 

<Yes?

>Finally

> I've been waiting for hours

>You have no idea the torture it has been

<You’re going to have to work on your separation issues riri

The typing bubble appears and disappears three times before I get a response. 

>Why did you leave linny?

I sigh, Isn't that the most popular question. I don't have an answer for my best friend because I don't even have an answer for myself. 

<Mom got a new job, i guess

And with that, I turn my phone off.

Lying to Dorian pains me. And he knows I'm full of shit, he can read me better than the books he practical consumes. But telling him that I have a suspicion that Dad’s cheating and Mom’s losing her mind probably is not the right way to go. 

After I choke down my meal, I rap my knuckles on the counter, bored. I push the barstool out and begin the trek to the front door, where I turn back around and face the house anew. Time for a tour. 

-

My new home is probably the exact same as three other houses on the block, and I take my time observing everything. From the front door, you emerge into the cozy living room. With the aforementioned navy blue sectional facing the limescaled brick fireplace. A powder room is to the right, and down the hall, you make it into the kitchen. The matte black light fixtures fall down from the high ceilings, where the staircase wraps around the opposite end of the room. To the right, is what I assume to be Mom's master bedroom, and to the left is the dining room. Which leads into a full glass wall with a wonderful view of the fences that surround the backyard. 

My hand glides along the staircase railing, and when I reach the landing, rather than going to the right, back towards my bedroom, I turn left. Three rooms line this side of the house, and when I open the first door I’m met with a study. The far wall is windows, and a large desk sits in the middle of the room. I spot some of the boxes from the Audi in the corner of the room. So this will be Mom’s study. The next door is another washroom. Which makes four in this house already, if both my and my mother’s rooms have ensuites. 

When my hand reaches the handle of the final door, it doesn't move. I jiggle it around, maybe it's stuck? The door doesn't budge. 

More secrets. 

Just then I heard the front door open and my mother's heels on the hardwood floors. 

“Aelin! You better be up!” She calls out. 

I mentally groan, there goes my day. 

-

Where Mom disappeared remains a mystery, but she returned with an overflowing need to go grocery shopping. 

Currently I am commandeering the shopping cart while she browses the organic cereals in the aisle. She's been perusing the brightly coloured boxes for a few minutes now, and I'm picking at my nails. I've peeled off a few layers surrounding, and the nail is bitten down. A symptom of my recent anxieties. 

"Aelin, love, do you want the strawberry granola or the blueberry? Both have all the macronutrients you need to be eating…" she trailed off. 

"Strawberry," I answer. 

She nodded and grabbed two boxes, setting them into the cart alongside our multitude of organic produce and lean meats. 

She grabbed the list out of the back pocket of her sleek trousers and scanned the remaining groceries needed. When she trotted off, I follow her. 

I was certainly not a picture of grace in this moment, body slumped over the handle of the cart, practically dragging my feet. And I felt slightly out of place here too. The grocery store we are in was one of the largest in the city, and the primary one as well. The people here looked different from those from rifthold. Hardened. Like the mountain air cooled their urgency, and they were living more for the moment. 

Which was a shocking comparison to the people of Rifthold, whose urgency permeated their very cores, and oozed out over everyone else. You couldn't walk down the streets in Rifthold without careening into someone rushing somewhere else. 

As we made our way over to the nutmilks, I snagged a bag of chocolates off the shelf. 

A teenage boy in red coveralls is browsing the dairy milks beside us. 

He's pretty, with blonde hair so light it looks silver. Tall too, and lanky. I stare at him while mom opens the door to grab vanilla almond milk. She catches my eye when she turns around to place the milk in the cart. Looking in the same direction as me, we both briefly watch as the boy places his carton of milk in a basket and backs away. 

She looks back at me, and I see a smile when she realises I was staring. 

"Don't start," I say, rolling my eyes. 

Her little smile doesn't fall, and when we turn to go, piercing green eyes catch my own, and the boy smiles at me too. 

[thebridgehqs]

Welcome to 1926 – Aelin Ashryver Galathynius !! I hope you feel right at home here in Sydney. Before you get too comfortable and see what all our city has to offer, be sure to review our CHECKLIST. We’re so glad to have you with us, Boo !!

Look who just woke up- is that FREYA ALLAN ? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s AELIN ASHRYVER GALATHYNIUS from TOG. I heard they are 25 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, he/she/they still gives off a/an SCARRED FORM, A BEAUTIFUL TATTOO SHARING HER STORY, FASHIONABLE STYLE WITH AN EXPENSIVE TASTE, EYES THAT CAPTURE THE BEAUTY OF SKY AND FLAME, A WEIGHT THEY CAREY THAT MAKES THEM SEE OLDER THEN SHE IS, impression. In Sydney, they work as a/an MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT. They’re known to be quite EMPATHETIC & LOYAL, but have a tendency to be BRASH & HOT-HEADED on their bad days. (Boo)

[mellendraws]

Our Queen ❤️

[scribomaniac]

Chaol will know

So a while ago I saw a post saying that Darrow will discover Lysandra isn't Aelin by the tattoo on her wrist (which is an amazing theory and better happen in the books)

But I just finished tower of dawn (yeah, it took me a while whatever) and I realized something that I haven't seen people talking about (I mean maybe I'm just not tuned into fandom but...)

Chaol is returning with a trunk full of book and scrolls written with wyrdmarks, a language aelin can read. A language aelin can read, but Lysandra cannot.

Chaol will take one look at aelin-lysandras confused face and he'll know

[acourtofquestions]

[slytherhys]

Strung-Out Heart

A/N - I started writing this for Rowaelin Month but honestly I'm enjoying it way too much not to keep writing it (if you like reading it). Hope you enjoy this!

TW - strong language, mature themes.

Chapter I

Aelin

Whenever tragedy was about to strike, Aelin Galathynius would feel a sharp sting at her right wrist. At least she thought she did.

Aelin couldn’t exactly swear tragedy always struck when she felt that particular sting under an old tattoo, nor could she swear all the events that followed it were exactly tragic – Aelin had, after all, a flare for the dramatics – but her body did seem to know when something was about to happen. Like those poor souls who’d suffer from knee pains whenever it would rain, or the ones that sneezed right before a thunderstorm broke. Aelin couldn’t help but feel envious of them – the idea of sneezing before thunder did seem a bit more appealing than feeling your skin prickle as your luck runs out.

And on the 1st of September, at exactly 2:32 in the morning, Aelin Galathynius felt her luck run out – right before the sound of keys rattling against the lock of Aedion’s front door echoed through the kitchen, followed by the soft thud of heavy boots chanting against the wooden floors. But not even the strongest of pains could ever prepare her for the sight of Rowan Whitethorn looking beautifully dishevelled in her cousin’s kitchen, the moonlight hitting his features just right. He almost looked angelic – if not for the look of pure shock and disbelief on his face. Other feelings lurked under the surface, but Aelin wasn’t quite prepared to deal with them at 2AM in her pyjamas while he looked at her as if trying to decide whether to kill her or kiss her. She didn’t want to think about that either if we’re being honest.

She knew sooner or later she would have to face Rowan; Orynth wasn’t exactly a big town, and her cousin was a close friend of Rowan’s. So was Lysandra. And Lorcan. And Elide… Such was the tragedy of having the same group of friends, Aelin thought. But the point remains that the fated encounter wasn’t supposed to take place in Aedion’s rustic kitchen, in the dark, while Aelin ate what was probably the last box of Aedion’s breakfast cereals while she watched a romantic movie so bad it was borderline embarrassing.

It had been 3 years since she had last seen him – all her fault, she knew. The last time she’d seen him, Rowan’s hair had been long, falling down his back in a sea of gleaming silver as his genetics demanded; he frequently wore it up in a bun or a braid of some sort. She remembered his kind pine-green eyes too, the way they used to find her every time she entered the room. They looked at her now with little kindness. 

His hair was short now, a few strands curling and falling in front of his eyes. He looked bigger than before as well as if all the muscles he had before weren’t already enough. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and – Hellas – a pair of grey sweatpants, looking like sin incarnate. Aelin wasn’t sure she wasn’t blushing, and she had to thank the dark kitchen for the concealment it offered her. There’s a black bag in his hand – probably the reason he was there that late – but he did nothing to set it down. He simply stared, his gaze cold and calculating. Aelin stood up from her place at the table, the only sound in the room the legs of her chair groaning against the floor. She readied herself to say something but in true Rowan fashion, he beat her to it. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse, sounding softer than what he probably intended if his expression was anything to go by. She wasn’t sure how to answer him. She could tell him a million reasons, but almost all of them included Rowan and Aelin wasn’t sure he would react well to that. Not tonight. There was so much Aelin wanted to tell him; so much she wanted to ask. But now wasn’t the time. She wasn’t sure there would ever be a time, but she had to be hopeful. She had to, or she would have nothing left. She had little to lose at this point – Rowan already held her entire being at his mercy. He always did. 

“Hi, Rowan.” She tried sending him a soft smile but by the way he flinched, she wasn’t sure it did any good to either of them. 

Rowan clenched his jaw as he took a deep breath. Aelin felt so small when he looked at her like that – and the worst part is that he had every reason to do so. “What are you doing here?” He tried again, this time through gritted teeth. 

“Aedion is letting me crash for a while.” She tried to explain, but it sounded weak even to her own ears. 

“Why, Aelin?” He was so still. 

“I’m back in town.” She gestured with her hands around her, as if the room around held all the answers they were both looking for. It was to no use – he wasn’t even looking at her, his face was turned to the side as if it pained him to see her. “Just for a while.” She added weakly.

“How. Long.” He pushed every word like they weighed a ton. Aelin watched him carefully, debating what to tell him. Would a little white lie hurt them much at this point? If he knew the truth, he probably would do everything in his power to avoid her and that was everything Aelin wanted – needed – to avoid right now. She sighed, dropping her head slightly and looking away. She had never been able to face him when she lied to him.

“I don’t know, Rowan.” She swallowed, her throat feeling terribly dry. “Not for long.” He finally looked at her, as if asking for more. She felt like crying. “A few days, I guess.” She shrugged and looked at him, waiting for him to say something. That long? He could say. That little? Just stay a bit longer, he could ask.

The time for him to ask her to stay had come and gone, she supposed. 

“Tell Aedion I dropped this off.” Rowan said as he dropped the black bag on top of the table, turned around and left the apartment without a backward glance. Aelin felt defeated, drained enough to not even want to poke around the bag Rowan had just dropped for Aedion at 2AM. 

He had left like she once had, as if showing her he now held the upper hand. Aelin guessed he probably did. Other than the occasional information from Aedion, she knew nothing about his current life. Did he still live in the same apartment, a few minutes away from the studio? Did he still order the same breakfast burrito every morning from the coffee shop in his building? Did he have a girlfriend, now? A fiancée? A wife? She wasn’t sure she could handle finding out. 

But one thing was certain: no matter how much Rowan’s life had changed, Aelin would show him how good they could be together– if only they could try again. Maybe that made her selfish, and maybe it made her stubborn, but she had once made the mistake of giving up on them – she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

           Now all she had to do was hope he was willing to give her a second chance. 

[justreadertings]

Till Death Do Us Part Masterlist

TILL DEATH DO US PART MASTERLIST

-

Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is the world’s most sacred treasure. Adored by hundreds, hunted by thousands. She made a vow to protect the country her parents died to unite, and while she once believed being forced to leave that home would prevent her from making good on that promise, it is nothing compared to the struggles she will face returning to the world of court. She spent six years in hiding, dreaming of the day she could return to lead her country. Under the guise of Celeana Sardothian, she grew up waiting for the day she could save her broken kingdom  by her best friend, and heir to their shared throne, Rowan’s side. She just has to live long enough to be able to save their country together, and learn how to become Aelin once more.

-

Rowan Whitethorn is the leader of a failing country. Tethered to the kingdom his aunt had died to unite, Rowan never thought he would face the repercussions of a fifty year long civil war alone. But when his best friend and heir to their shared throne is forced to flee, he was meant to grow up in a world he never belonged to. In her return, what is his place, and can he mend what so many have broken?

-

Now, they’ve both changed, and have the weight of the world in their hands. Was it their guardians' lack of judgment before they’d gone, believing they could rule together? Was it the god’s tricky fate that had intertwined their lives once more? Or was it simply what the world needed to be whole once again?

-

Part 1- Terrasen 

Prologue 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Part 2- The Future

Chapter 11

-

Book Cover (made by the amazing @backtobl4ck)

Taglist: @leiawritesstories @tomtenadia​ @fireheart-violet�� @backtobl4ck​​ @morganofthewildfire​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @aelinchocolatelover​ @thegreyj​ @foughtconquered​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @booklover242​ @stardelia​  @numbers-colors-fashion​ @bookcide​

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 3

Propaganda why Marinette Dupain-Cheng is insufferable:

She easily gets away with bad, stalkerish behavior, it always feels like she can ‘do no wrong’ unless the show wants us to pity her, and the show writers want us to think she is a quirky and socially awkward girl when throughout the series we see her be friends with basically everyone in Paris with many connections to high up places.

I get she has social anxiety but the way she goes about stalking Adrien is kind of the worst like she even has creep shots of him hanging in her room? That’s weird. I think Adrien’s going through enough without having to deal with the main character being his stalker lol. I know they’re (spoilers) at this point but in the beginning it was so sus

In the newest season, Marinette hides the fact that Hawkmoth was Adrien’s dad. This leads to the bastard getting a statue and honored as a hero after his death. Adrien now never gets to know the fact that his abusive and neglectful father was the one trying to kill him and is instead proud of him.

Her crush on Adrien is like a black hole for her character. Things she’s done because of it:

1) stolen property

2) ruined dates

3) humiliated other characters

4) has a chart of Adrien’s daily schedule for the next year in her room (this is stalking)

5) broke into his room and sniffed his pillow (also a crime)

6) sniffed, took the hair from, and tried to kiss what she thought was a wax statue of Adrien

7) convinced her parents to let her go to China. Why? Not because she wants to connect with her mother’s heritage, not even because she’s a budding fashion designer and Shanghai is considered a fashion hotspot. It’s because Adrien was there.

I started the show, watched one episode, and never tried again. I simply do not vibe with her.

shes annoyinng anf shes a stalker

I love fanon miraculous but by god she has got to stop obsessively stalking her crush and generally making a ton of other terrible decisions. I’d submit Adrien too but he’s more of a deuteragonist

More propaganda

Anti propaganda

Propaganda why Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is insufferable:

Your basic Mary Sue. Styled as the incredibly cool best-assassin in the land at only 18, she nevertheless is constantly snuck up upon, distracted by pretty boys, and possesses not an ounce of wit. In a competition between murderers and thieves to win a place as the King's Champion, she sees a bag of chocolates on her bed that she didn't put there and immediately starts eating it and gushing about how much she adores chocolate - nevermind that they just had a trial involving poison, which several of her competitors are adept at. She's always right, and other characters exist just to tell her how awesome and beautiful and wonderful she is. And then she turns out to be a super special magical fey princess!

I generally don't believe that a Mary Sue is a bad thing, but the only thing I remember about this book was how she had been in prison for years but was super young but was also still the most super-specialest assassin. And she kept reading when she should have been training or sleeping. Like, girl, this is not final exams where you can stay up all night and then roll into class in your pajamas and still squeak out a C. It's supposed to be life and death. Her character traits didn't make her relatable, they made her a moron

Heir to a kingdom plus turquoise eyes plus best assassin in the world plus protagonist centered morality

Anti propaganda

Propaganda why Dean Winchester is insufferable:

Really mean to Cas (called him a child, zero respect for him, calls him family and casts him out when the angels are looking for him), and an absolute dick to Jack (threatening to kill him CONSTANTLY)

>Was a misogynist (loved to call women skanks, bitches, hoes)

>Used gay as an insult multiple time during the show's run (idc if he's gay an homophobic, that's still insulting)

>Beat up his brother for being possessed

>Beat up his brother for losing his soul (not his brother's fault)

>Used dubious consent to get his brother possessed in a different unrelated possession incident after possession was being used (badly...this is supernatural after all) as a metaphor for SA

>Threatened to murder his brother when he was hallucinating (yay we aren't ableist)

>Locked a child up in a box

>Threatened to kill the child he locked up in a box

>Made a creepy, sexual comment about a barely-legal high school girl

>Got the woman and kid he was living with memory-wiped

misogynistic scumbag. theres also a few different times that dean finds teenagers sexy with the most recent and prominent example that i can recall being the scooby doo crossover episode in season 13 where hes super into daphne who in the version they chose for the episode is 15-16 and is interacting with her as if shes a real person cause they got magicked into the episode. he treats everyone around him like shit and the only time the narrative agrees that thats a bad thing is when he has the mark of cain put on him and hes acting no differently than he does usually its just now acknowledged that hes treating others like shit. ive been rewatching the show for shits and giggles with a friend and wow he really does not treat anyone well but i wanna focus on how he treats sam for a second cause dude's hobby seems to be ignoring what his brother wants and lying to sam about doing stuff that directly concerns him the demon blood and souless things are reasonable cause those were both Bad for sam but theyre still part of a wider pattern and the most prominent example of this being when dean tricks sam into letting gadreel possess him and actually gaslights sam about it with the whole ordeal ending when its revealed gadreel lied about who he was and while possessing sam murders a friend of theirs. his voice is just also stupid as fuck im sorry this is just petty but he just sounds like hes trying so hard to be gruff n intimidating but he just sounds like a kid pretending to be batman

Dean’s list of sins is crazy long because of how long the show ran, but the key thing for me is that post-locking Sam in the bunker (season 4 I think?), I just can’t enjoy their relationship anymore. I normally love their sibling dynamic, but Dean’s ultimate worst past-the-point-of-no-return moment for me was demonizing (pun intended) his little brother for being “addicted” to demon blood, which only happened because of a series of events that were either Dean’s or someone else’s fault, not Sam’s. I also really dislike how the fandom treats Dean like this angel (pun intended) who has done no wrong and even tries to justify the MULTIPLE times he’s beaten up and otherwise abused his little brother. Canon Dean is like the polar opposite of fanon Dean: he’s homophobic and racist (jokes about a Black man being sexually assaulted in prison), misogynistic (take a shot every time he calls a woman a slur and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning), and abusive.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Fake Fiancé

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

Prompt from @backtobl4ck : Fake proposals at restaurants to get free food

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: None

896 words

*******

“I’ll have a Tanqueray martini, stirred, with a twist.”

Aelin let her long coat rest over the side of the low-backed barstool she perched on as her gaze surveyed the dimly lit restaurant behind her. Everyone was dressed to the nines, draped in designer clothing and bedecked in jewels, herself included, which only exemplified the opulent atmosphere.

Low chatter dissolved within the quiet music filtering through invisible speakers. Candles lined the walls, illuminating the soft-toned paintings placed about.

She crossed one leg over the other, the silt in her dress falling away to expose smooth skin and toned muscle, and tossed her long golden hair over one shoulder. Her heel began to sway to the low beat.

“Thank you,” she murmured to the bartender who handed over her drink. Lifting the chilled glass to her crimson-painted lips, Aelin loosed a small, contented sigh at the velvety smooth cocktail. Her eyes closed for a moment while she sipped again, enjoying the light citrusy flavor of the lemon rind.

A chorus of applause caught her attention and Aelin twisted in her seat to look towards the side of the restaurant where a woman was rising from her kneeling position on the floor, beaming as she slipped a bright engagement ring onto her girlfriend’s—fiancés—finger.

Aelin felt the corner of her mouth quirk up at the obvious display of happiness and lifted her glass in gesture as more applause rang out. She hadn’t yet turned back to the bar when Aelin heard, what had to be the manager, approach the two women and insist their dinner be on the house while also offering a complimentary bottle of wine or champagne with a hearty congratulations.

She huffed out a soft snort and muttered “I’d get engaged right now if it meant getting that lobster tail comped.”

A deep chuckle to her right made Aelin whip her head around to see who had heard her, mouth already open to ask why they felt entitled to react to her obviously rhetorical comment. The words got caught in her throat, however, when her eyes landed on the man sitting two seats down from her.

His thick hair was so pale it looked silver under the glow of the warm lights. He was tall, he didn’t need to get up for her to see that. And muscled. The arms resting on the sleek bar were toned and strong, and a tattoo peeked out from beneath the sleeves of his dress shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows.

Aelin dragged her eyes back to his face and found him staring at her with piercing green eyes. He was smirking, obviously enjoying the way she had hesitated and checked him out.

Blinking, Aelin remembered why she turned to him in the first place. Arching a golden brow and taking a smooth sip of her martini, she asked, “Something you’d like to say?”

His smirk slowly widened and he lifted his own drink, an Old Fashioned by the looks of it, to his lips. She tightened her grip on her glass while he held her gaze before replying, “Only that I would've gone with the Wagyu.”

Her brow rose higher as the hum of chattering continued around them. Aelin shifted again, angling her body more towards his. “Is that so?”

She swept her eyes over him with deliberate slowness and let him see the glimmer of interest on her face. In one smooth move, he stood from his chair, grabbed his jacket, and took the seat directly beside her.

He shrugged with an irreverence that seemed to say, your choice, but tilted his glass towards her and leaned in. “The real question is would you accept the bottle of Zinfandel or Champagne?”

Aelin sat back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips that grew when she caught his gaze stray towards them. “Well, seeing as the lobster would pair best with a Chardonnay, not a red, and if my fiancé was having the Wagyu steak which would preferably be had with a Barolo or Syrah, and not a Zinfandel,” she paused, sipping her martini and enjoying the slow grin blossoming across the man’s face. “I would opt for the complimentary bottle of Champagne to share.”

Nodding his agreement, he finished his drink and set it on the bar before extending his hand towards her. “Rowan.”

Aelin held his gaze, aware of how he kept his hand out in offering as she sipped the last of her cocktail and set the empty glass next to his. She smiled and placed her hand in his. “Aelin.”

Without breaking eye contact, he shifted their handshake so he lightly held her fingers and brought them to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Aelin,” he dragged her name out, and she instantly enjoyed the way it sounded coming from him. “How would you like to get fake engaged tonight?”

Her smile broadened and his soon followed. “I would love to.”

Aelin stood from her barstool and discreetly removed one of the rings she wore, sliding it towards Rowan and letting her fingers graze his skin for a second longer than necessary.

Standing to his full height, he pocketed the ring and winked at her. “After you,” he insisted and rested a hand lightly on the small of her back as they walked toward the dinner tables.

*****

Taglist:

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[leiawritesstories]

City boy Rowan sees cowgirl Aelin in formal wear/not ranch clothes for the first time

And I Need A Date

word count: 2,458

warnings: Rowan is a simp

@morganofthewildfire some fluff for you ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The email popped into Aelin's inbox early one afternoon. Yes, she may be a rancher, but even cowgirls had to keep up with the times, and she'd long since started an online presence for Galathynius Ranch, which had only benefitted the place. She even ran an Instagram account for her ranch, marketing the place to every one of her followers, and that had certainly helped business boom. She'd just intended to sit down and check her finances, since she kept a digital budget spreadsheet as well as her paper ledgers, and then she heard the ping of an email arriving. So she decided to check.

Dear Ms. Galathynius,

Congratulations! You and Galathynius Ranch have been nominated for Best Weekend Getaway in the annual National Travel Awards! It is our pleasure to invite you and a plus-one to the awards dinner and presentation, which will be held on July 20th at 7:00 pm at the Havilliard Ballroom in Austin, Texas. Please RSVP at this link before July 1. And again, congratulations! We look forward to seeing you there!

Sincerely,

The National Travel Awards Association

Aelin blinked at her laptop screen, not quite believing what she'd just read. Nominated for a travel award? Her ranch?

Well, that was certainly a welcome surprise.

It took her less than five minutes to decide that of course she was going. July 20th was just less than a month away, leaving her plenty of time to book her travel plans and draw up notes for leaving Darrow and Philippa in charge of the ranch while she was gone. She clicked on the RSVP link and filled out the information--her name, yes she was going to come to the dinner, and if she was allergic to anything or had specific dietary needs. And yes, she would be bringing one guest, as requested.

But the question was...who? Who would be her guest for the dinner? For the whole trip, really.

The question plagued her for the next couple of weeks as she went about the ranch business, taking care of her horses and herds and the guests currently staying at the ranch. Hell, she briefly considered just making an announcement to the guests and asking if one of them would like to come with her, but she quickly nixed that thought before she convinced herself that bringing along a stranger would be in any way a good idea.

~

By July 10th, she had her plane tickets booked and a hotel room reserved. Two plane tickets. Because she was. Bringing. A. Guest. Even if she still didn't know who. She'd gone through first her closet, then her mother's closet, then Lysandra's closet to find an outfit for the dinner, making her very much aware that her wardrobe consisted almost entirely of jeans, t-shirts, flannels, shorts, a sundress or two, boots, running shoes, and sandals. Luckily, her best friend (who was conveniently married to Aedion) adored fashion and shopping and had an extensive wardrobe, which she was always begging Aelin to sample. Lys had been overjoyed to let her go through her closet and had literally squealed when Aelin found a simple, elegant formal gown in a deep red silk, tried it on, and said she was going to steal it.

"It's mine now, Lys," she teased.

"Please, take it," Lys returned, eyeing her appreciatively. "Damn, woman, if this dress doesn't get you a boyfriend--"

"Aaaand that's enough," Aelin sighed, rolling her eyes.

Lys nudged her. "Speaking of boyfriends, ya found a date yet? For your big fancy dinner?"

"Ugh, no," Aelin groaned. "I'm running out of time, Lys."

Her best friend smirked. "Why don't you ask Whitethorn? He's here, yeah? I'm sure he'd loooove to spend a couple days with you."

A flush bloomed on Aelin's cheeks. "I'm sure he would." And she said no more, despite Lys's flurry of questions.

~

Back at the ranch, the dress carefully packed into a garment bag and hanging in her closet, Aelin steeled herself against her own nerves and strolled out to the barn, knowing she'd probably find Rowan there, feeding the horses. And indeed, there he was.

"Afternoon," she greeted him, fetching a couple of apples from the bin as well as her currying brush and walking into Elentiya's stall.

"Hey, Aelin," Rowan greeted her, coming to lean on the stall door and watch as she brushed down her mare. "Fancy meeting you here at this hour."

She snorted a little. "Ro, I gotta take care of my ranch, y'know."

"Mhmm, but aren't you usually in the main house in the afternoons?"

"Ah, y'know my schedule," she smirked. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you had a li'l crush, city boy."

"But you do know better," he hummed, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yep." She fed her horse the apples. Squared her shoulders. "Ro?"

"Hmm?" He raised a brow.

The question rushed out. "I'm goin' to Austin for an awards dinner and I need a date and I got nobody, d'you want to come with me?"

Rowan blinked. "An--Austin?"

"No, an awards dinner," she teased. "Yeah, Austin. Dinner's on the 20th, I'm staying 'til the 21st."

He pinched his chin. "Yes."

"Really?" Her eyes widened. "Ya sure?"

"Absolutely I am." Rowan glanced around to make sure they were alone, then dipped his head and pecked a kiss onto her lips. "I'm always willing to keep you company, cowgirl."

Damn her, the way his slow, seductive words made her feel.

"Thank you so much," she grinned, pulling him in for a real kiss. "I got the travel all booked, you just need to pack and come along for the ride." She threw him a sultry wink. "And the dinner's formal, so no jeans allowed."

He chuckled. "Ae, I'm a city slicker, I've got plenty of formal clothes."

"Wonderful," she smirked. "I'll tell you all the travel details later, okay?"

"Is that an invitation, cowgirl?" he purred, his arms bracketing her against the wooden stall door.

She swept her eyes up his body, biting her lower lip just enough to make his nostrils flare. "Come visit me after dinner, city boy."

Oh, he would.

~

Aelin shook Rowan awake at four-thirty am on the morning of July 19th. "Wake up, city boy," she whispered, "we've got a flight to catch."

"Too early," Rowan grumbled, rolling over.

She just pulled the bedcovers away and kissed him right between his shoulder blades. "Morning!"

He yelped at the cold air hitting his skin and rolled blearily out of bed, reaching blindly for his t-shirt and sweats. "Ae," he all but whined, "why so damn early?"

"Cuz we gotta catch a connecting flight," she replied.

He grumbled something crude. "How're you so energetic at the ass crack of dawn?"

"I'm a ranch girl, Ro. I get up with the sun every day." She kissed his cheek. "I made coffee for the drive."

"Thank fuck," he mumbled.

Shortly later, they arrived at Lincoln Airport, parked, and joined the trickle of early-morning travelers heading into the terminal to catch the first flight into Denver. They went through security quickly, the line moving fast because the travelers were few and the airport a smaller one.

~

By midafternoon, their second flight had landed in Austin, and they deplaned and found their way to the exit, pushing through the throngs of travelers that flooded the huge, busy airport. Once outside the terminal, she let Rowan watch her luggage as she reached into her backpack to grab the printout from the car rental place, then followed some more signs down to the rental area, where she waited in line for a while and then got the keys to the car she'd rented.

"Such a responsible adult," Rowan teased as they found the rental car and set their suitcases in the back. They'd each just brought a carryon and a backpack, not needing much for the couple of days they'd be in Austin.

"One of us has to be," she smirked.

He rolled his eyes, sighing exaggeratedly. "God help me, why did I agree to this?"

"For the free dinner, of course."

He laughed. "Yeah, that'll do it."

Rowan helped guide her through the city, him being far more used to driving around in city traffic than she was, and they found their hotel relatively quickly, parked in the garage, and checked in. Aelin groaned in delight and flopped onto the bed, her feet dangling off. "Naptime!"

"Want me to set an alarm?" Rowan asked.

"Please," she said, kicking off her shoes and quickly exchanging her leggings and sweatshirt for sleep shorts and a t-shirt and crawling into the hotel bed to snatch some sleep.

The alarm woke her a couple hours later to both her and Rowan's grumbles of discontent, and she smirked. "Hmm, someone else fell asleep too?"

"Travel wears me out," he mumbled. Was her city boy blushing?

Yes. Yes he was.

"Oh, don'cha worry 'bout it," she snickered. "I won't judge ya, pretty boy. Long as you feed me, and soon."

He swung himself out of bed. "Luckily for you, cowgirl, I've been to Austin a few times for work, and I know a bunch of good restaurants."

She grinned as she pushed herself out of bed. "Well then, lead the way, Ro."

~

The next afternoon, Aelin took a long shower and blow-dried her hair, a luxury she rarely allowed herself on her busy ranch mornings. But she had all the time she needed, and she wanted to look her best, not like a moon-eyed cowgirl who'd never been to the big city, so she spent as much time as she dared drying her hair and putting on just a touch of mascara and a swipe of lipstick. She'd brought her dress into the bathroom, not wanting to risk changing in front of the window.

Plus, she wanted to surprise Rowan.

She unzipped the garment bag ultra-carefully, letting the dress fall to its full length. Gently, she freed the dress's zipper, pulled it off the hanger, reveling in the swish of silk against her skin, and stepped into the formal garment, then zipped it shut. She adjusted the fabric over her curves, staring at her reflection in shock.

She barely recognized the woman staring back, the deep red silk gown and loose hair and hint of makeup transforming the Nebraska cowgirl into someone else entirely. Someone who owned and ran a highly successful business. Someone who could possibly win an award tonight.

Rowan knocked on the bathroom door. "Ae? You fall into the toilet?" he teased.

Aelin rolled her eyes at his humor.

Then she pulled open the door, revealing herself.

Rowan's jaw dropped open. his eyes widening into saucers as he drank her in, tracing his star-struck gaze over every line and curve of her body, draped in that red silk. Just as she was about to blurt out how unlike herself she felt, he gulped.

"You are absolutely stunning, Ae," he breathed, incredulous. "Absolutely stunning."

She huffed a short breath. "I miss my flannel."

He grinned. "Cowgirl, you've stolen my breath away. I mean it, baby, you're going to knock 'em out tonight."

She half-grinned, letting her own gaze sweep appreciatively up and down his form. "You clean up real nice yourself, city boy," she purred as she drank in the way his charcoal-grey suit molded to his toned arms and ass, the jacket smoothed over his crisply pressed ivory shirt, a scarlet tie tucked into the fine cloth of the suit jacket. "I've got the best-dressed man in the place on my arm, I do."

He flashed her a bright grin and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Rowan couldn't keep his eyes off her all night, constantly flicking what he probably thought were covert glances over at her all throughout the dinner and the ceremony, as she chatted and smiled with the other nominees and the guests. She charmed the hell out of their table with her rancher drawl and her smile, playing up the cowgirl part. And she rested her hand dangerously high up on his thigh, so close to his groin that he had to force himself to think of sad puppies and other things to keep himself from looking like a complete creep. And she knew full well what she was doing to him; indeed, she enjoyed it quite a lot.

She applauded and grinned through the ceremony, perching on the edge of her seat without realizing she was when the host announced that it was time to present the Best Weekend Getaway award. The man gave a brief spiel about the nominees, showing pictures of each location, then produced the envelope and dramatically pulled out the card with the winner's name.

"Galathynius Ranch!" he declared.

Aelin gasped, not believing any of this was real as she rose and walked to the small stage, beaming as she shook the host's and the award committee's hands and accepted her plaque. The crowd's applause washed over her in waves, the one voice piercing through being Rowan's.

"I'm so proud of you," he beamed as she returned to the table, grinning giddily. "You deserve this, Ae."

"I can't believe it," she breathed, staring at the plaque. "Oh my god."

Rowan barely stopped beaming at her the rest of the night, the proud little smile he wore not even leaving his face when they were back at their hotel changing out of their formal clothes. Then his smile shifted, something darker tingeing his expression as she reached for the zipper of her dress.

"Why don't you leave the dress, cowgirl?" he purred, his hand sliding around her waist, burning into her skin.

She tossed him a smirk. "I think I'll remove it, city boy. Wouldn't want you to miss what I've got underneath."

Rowan gulped, his pupils flaring into pools of black. "I've got no complaints about that," he rasped.

"Good." And Aelin let the dress fall to the floor.

~

They returned home to the ranch the next day, Aelin's award plaque carefully wrapped and stowed in her suitcase, and hung the award up in the main hall to much cheering from the guests and the ranch staff. Aelin's smile could've lit up the whole ranch, she was grinning so hard as everyone congratulated her.

"You deserve it, cowgirl," Rowan whispered into her ear for the millionth time.

She grinned up at him. "Buzzard, this is gonna do so much for the ranch! Gods, I need to start planning."

He caught her waist before she could scurry off to her office. "Uh-uh, baby. Celebrate first."

She lowered her lashes. "Didn't we do plenty of celebratin' last night, city boy?"

Well yes, they did.

But she'd never say no to more.

~~~

TAGS:

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@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@claralady

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@morganofthewildfire

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