#i don't do the reblog thing usually but i was SO jazzed to see them

[egophiliac]

Gina quotes aside, I am SO THRILLED that 1) we immediately got Lance and Kamui interaction, and 2) this really is their dynamic. incredible. forget Chaosism, there's only one mystery that Lance cares about: what is actually going on inside this man's head

meanwhile on the other end I hope it's just like

(for my next prediction that I hope becomes canon: Agata and Kamui lied about their ages to get into the Academy, because the hotel doesn't have a functioning plumbing hookup and, look, sometimes you do what you gotta do in order to get access to a working toilet)

i don't think u need to worry about poppy ikemen anymore, new ride kamens character is kr kamui who is our lord and savior dan kuroto

DAN THE DANGEROUS ZOMBIE MAN!!!!!! I was SO excited when I saw the reveal, he is absolutely the funniest possible character choice hands-down. oh my god. I'm so glad he made it into this game.

also Kamui just looks incredible. instant favorite. this is the kind of man I can picture standing naked on a cliffside and screaming at everyone about his imminent ascension towards godhood. he is the incarnation of that one iconic Gina Linetti scene.

[augenblicklich-lila]

cod incorrect quotes #9

This one has a few more quotes since I haven't posted in a couple days. I've been enjoying this whole thing tremendously. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! Love y'all ♡

the usual jazz, mainly Y/N/Reader stuff, platonic and romantic. Plus a sprinkle of Soapghost ♡♡♡

first speaking appearance for Graves! who'd have thunk? about time. In my defense, I had to do a lot of scrolling to get to him, okay?

- Lila

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ ♛ （ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ━━✫・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

Soap, tending to Y/N's wounds: How would you rate your pain? Y/N: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend. Ghost: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Y/N: FORTY-FIVE SECONDS?!? Ghost: No! Four to five seconds! Soap: Too late!!!

Y/N: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise. Ghost: I beg to differ. Y/N: Then Beg. (imagining the silence that would follow this brings me great joy)

Gaz: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate, or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate? Y/N: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

Ghost: Soap and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- Soap: Sentences. Ghost: Don't interrupt me.

Graves: I was arrested for being too cool. Y/N: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence. (a wild Graves appears!)

Y/N: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Gaz: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should’ve taken away. Y/N: Death isn’t real, and I’m basically God.

Y/N: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Soap: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Y/N: Walking into a room Sorry I’m late… I was… doing things. Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder Graves: Out of breath THEY PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

Y/N: I prevented a murder today. Ghost, raising an eyebrow: Really? How’d you do that? Y/N: self-control.

Ghost & Soap: Please, we're begging you to go to a doctor. Y/N: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Y/N: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Gaz: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Y/N: Absolutely not.

Y/N: I made tea. Ghost: I don’t want tea. (bold-faced lie) Y/N: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea. Ghost: Then why are you telling me? Y/N: It is a conversation starter. Ghost: That’s a lousy conversation starter. Y/N: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

Soap: I turned out perfectly fine! Price: Soap, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast. Soap: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!! Y/N, leaning over to whisper to Gaz: should we tell him it was actually Ghost? Gaz: nah Rudy: So he thinks a ghost made it, when it was actually our Ghost? Y/N: beautifully ironic, isn't it?

König: I’m going to take you out Y/N: great, it’s a date! König: I meant that as a threat. Y/N: See you at five! (god, I need to be taken out as well.)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ 　 ∧＿∧ （｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨) “Hie thee home, little wanderer.”

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

[aroaceleovaldez]

Hey! I’d like to know how best to start an askblog, and how to keep one interesting over a long term.

the number one thing I've found with how to start an askblog is to make sure you have something you think you can roll with for awhile (a character or series you're very invested in, if it's an art one make sure it's a design you're willing and able to draw over and over again, etc etc) and then setting up your blog as completely as possible before you post anything.

[This got quite long so further elaboration + more tips below:]

Enable custom theme, plan out how you're gonna tag things a little bit, set your icon and header (if it's an art askblog, absolutely set it to your own art so people get an idea of what your art is like going into the blog), get your blog description in order, all that jazz. If it's an art blog, make sure you have a design settled for your character beforehand and I'd recommend making it a design you could draw easily if you are absolutely exhausted. Having your design be one you can doodle easily means you won't get burnt out from just the idea of drawing the character. Don't feel like you have to get super fancy or complicated with things - your askblog doesn't have to be colored in or have backgrounds or anything. Get as few barriers as possible in between you and theoretically posting. That's gonna be your number one way to personally stay invested outside of your own interest in the character/fandom/subject/etc. Also try to have some ideas for what type of questions you might get and how you will answer them ahead of time, so you're prepared to get right into things when you start getting asks.

And then the most important step is to open your inbox. Before you do ANYTHING ELSE, open your inbox. Turn on anon. Good. Now never close it. A closed inbox, or failing to ever actually open the inbox, is the number one way I see askblogs die. Askblog Muns will close their inbox and then forget to ever reopen them or wonder why they aren't getting asks and abandon the blog entirely. If you are getting overwhelmed, turn off anon. That almost always slows asks down to a manageable crawl. If you are having a significant problem with rude asks or similar, block liberally. You can block anons - tumblr may give you an error about it but in my experience it generally works.

Okay, so you've prepped your askblog and opened your inbox. Now you have to make a post to advertise it. If you are going to make an "ad" style post or intro for your askblog, make a second post as well that is just a general post about the character or meme or similar. Few people are likely to reblog the intro/ad post - this is not a personal slight against you, people just don't generally see a reason to because it doesn't fit what they usually reblog and really don't like being told to do stuff. Significantly more people are more likely to reblog general fanart, text post memes, a comic dub, cosplay photography, or etc, especially shitposts, and then check out your blog from that. Interspersing occasional posts like that is a great way to keep your activity up outside of asks and get new people seeing your askblog every once in awhile.

From that point on, don't be afraid to send yourself asks or ask your friends to send stuff in just to get/keep the ball rolling. Getting your friends to send you some asks right away can be a great way to start posting immediately and show how the format of your blog works, so new people know how interacting with it works. Don't be afraid to post relevant fandom content stuff there, but generally try to keep it to original posts in a similar vein to the askblog (i.e.: if you run an illustrated askblog, post some of your other fanart for that franchise/character there sometimes as well). And try to keep it to your own content - avoid reblogging other people's stuff too much cause it'll clog up your blog and not do anything to help bring new eyes. You can reblog stuff of course, but don't let it overwhelm your blog. Keeping your askblog active with original posts means more people are going to find your blog and stay invested in your blog and send you more asks and this will self-perpetuate.

As far as keeping it interesting over a long-term, that's subjective. But some things you can do include events, particularly for milestones or anniversaries or etc, and many askblogs include a plotline that the characters follow while answering questions, which can encourage asks inquiring about what the characters are up to and give more things to talk about. If you don't keep things changing or progressing, people can run out of things to ask about. Also, don't be afraid to answer the same or similar questions multiple times - especially if it was awhile ago. It's unlikely all your followers have seen all your posts and you can always put a new spin on it. The one billion hug/boop/etc asks do get tiresome though so don't feel bad about skipping the nth one of those. And don't feel like you have to answer every ask immediately! Saving asks can be really useful later down the line, especially if you get a ton of asks all at once but then don't have a lot later. It gives you something to post.

Just generally encouraging engagement with asks/anons is another good option, again such as with events or even things such as Magic!Anons, which is a way anons can impact the characters/story/event in random manners (some common ones are turning characters into animals or monsters, or genderbends, or etc etc). Or even just having your characters react in particular or silly ways to anons or show ways the characters get their buttons pressed by certain asks will encourage people to send in more of those types of asks or explore ways they can personally torment/annoy/etc the characters more, which people love.

The only caveat to this is be careful about letting it stray too far into just straight up RP territory - askblog crossovers are super fun and can be a great way to build up an askblog community, but RP blogs are an entirely different thing that get mixed up with askblogs sometimes and when those waters get muddied it has a poor tendency to just kill askblogs. Because of how RP blogs function entirely differently to askblogs, if your askblog becomes too much of an RP blog it will become only an RP blog, and you will probably completely stop getting askblog asks because the askblog audience doesn't want to rp. Askblogs and RP blogs are similar in theory but very different in execution and attempting to combine them rarely goes well. You will just end up with one or the other and if you were hoping to make one, getting the other will probably leave you confused and disappointed. Also keeping RP blogs active is a completely different beast - that one is just general RP rules. Make your character and go find an open RP to join or community accepting new members and just hop right in. If the RP fizzles out the RP fizzles out, that's not something you can really control. It's the cons of collaborative writing. Askblogs are entirely in your hands, so you can control how active it is. It just comes down to your own engagement and enjoyment with the thing. Just remember: Ultimately, an askblog is for you, the creator of the askblog. Be as self-indulgent as you want. In fact, being self-indulgent is highly encouraged! Because that's how you personally stay invested in your own project. Never feel like you're forced to keep doing it - it's just for fun and for your own amusement. As long as you're having fun and keep going with it, you will attract an audience that will love it as much as you do. You don't need to post every day, or even every week or whatever - take as many breaks as you need.

So tl;dr:

Set up your askblog as much as possible before you post anything.

OPEN YOUR INBOX

Post general fandom content separately alongside your intro/ad post so you are more likely to get traction to your askblog

Don't be afraid to ask your friends to send you asks, or send yourself asks if you need.

Have something going on or switch things up from time to time (or give a means for anons to switch things up) so people have more stuff to ask about or generally feel encouraged to ask things/interact, such as events, plotlines, and/or magic!Anons.

The more you stay active, the more people will see your blog and engage with it

Ultimately the blog is for you, so make it something you will want to stay invested in and feel like you can keep active with and that you enjoy, and people will become invested in it alongside you. If it helps at all - the audience is theoretical and/or ever-changing. You are a guarantee. So cater to you because you know above all else that you are always going to be there.

[revnah1406]

Talofa again, Rev! About that reblog about your OCs relationship!

72. If someone flirted with or showed an interest in their S/O, how would the other react?

80. What tropes could be applied to this relationship?

And!

97. How do they wake their S/O up? Is it difficult to rouse them?

TALOFA AGAIN TARO! You know its a pleasure seeing you in my inbox 🧡🧡✨

Let's do it!!

72: If someone flirted with or showed an interest in their S/O, how would the other react?

HOHOHOHO THIS IS A GOOD ONE.

Alright it's different for each other. They don't usually get jealous, they trust each other with their lives, they don't get insecure when someone is talking/flirting to the other. But if they see that someone is crossing the lines and not respecting the boundaries that their partner set they will step in.

For example if Sparrow said "Not interested I have a girlfriend." And the other person is still insisting. Then Amara won't hesitate to step in. Not to look like a jealous girlfriend, but to annoy the other person and let them be clear who she is.

She steps in, a hand across Sparrow's shoulders, a discrete kiss on her cheek.

"hey love. I'm a little bit tired, do you want to go back home?" Then she would fake surprise. "Oh! I didn't see you there darling. Sorry for interrupting." She's clearly not sorry. "Hannah didn't introduce me to you? Oh she can forget things really quickly. Anyway I'm Amara, her girlfriend/wife. It's a pleasure to meet you." Then she would turn around, literally turning her back on that person. "Should we go babe?". Sparrow would silently thank Amara for saving her agreeing they should go home and leaving that person standing there.

Sparrow would do something a little bit different. She would step between them, give a quick and random kiss to Amara and walk away. She knows that Amara can handle that type of person better than her. So she goes, leaves a clear message and then leaves. Amara would smile at Hannah, biting her lip and then look back at the other person. "I have an important thing to do." She pointed at Sparrow. "I gotta go, bye."

When they both get out of that situation they always gossip about it.

"Did you see their face when you walked away?" "They wanted to murder me hahaha"

80. What tropes could be applied to this relationship?

Mmmhh a little bit complicated because their story is a little bit full of drama.

So it would be like:

Strangers to friends with benefits -> friends with benefits to enemies -> enemies to lovers

97. How do they wake their S/O up? Is it difficult to rouse them?

Sparrow usually wakes up first. She likes to wake up Amara with a good breakfast and jazz music playing from the kitchen. Then when everything is ready and at a reasonable hour to wake her up (because Sparrow wakes up REALLY early), she would wake Amara with soft kisses and sweet words. "Breakfast is ready, I just need the sunshine to rise." "Morning my dearest sleepyhead" "can you show me those pretty eyes of yours?". She would also join Amara for a five minute cuddle under Amara's sleepy demands of a morning hug. This usually happens on the weekend, when the mornings are slow and lazy.

When Amara has to wake up Sparrow... That's a whole other story. Usually Sparrow wakes up really early, just to work out, go for a run or hike. A little bit before Amara wakes up. But there are mornings where she feels really lazy. And it takes a lot to wake her up. Amara has tried everything, throwing pillows at her, playing music at full volume next to her, pulling from Sparrow's ankles and even kicking her out of the bed. But Sparrow can still sleep after all of that, maybe a small complaint and then going back to sleep. But there's only one thing that makes Sparrow wake up fast, and it's the smell of food. You start making breakfast, and she gets up faster than a lightning and she's already there sitting on the chair ready to eat.

And that's all! Thank you so much for the ask 🧡🧡✨

Love you! MWAH MWAH

[pathetic-tboy]

I started following your blog and I see you post a lot of T4T so I'm just curious like what makes someone a chaser. Like I'm a cis bi/pan guy and I don't really care much who I'm hooking up with but I've found my experiences with trans men and women generally just a lot better than with cis guys or girls. Like I find these days when I'm dating and someone is trans it appeals to me more because if those connections but I don't want to come off as some chaser that just wants to fetishize trans people but I do still seem to just like them more on a personal level. And my last few long term dating were with trans guys. Like I see a lot of your posts and stuff and things like a trans boy puppy and stuff I find hot because like I used to date one but I feel worried reblogging a lot of that stuff and appearing as a chaser. Is this something that's ever come up with you before with cis friends or relationships in the past, and do you have any advice I guess.

Also feel free to just ignore this message if it's TMI or whatever. I just find myself back at dating again and trying to like work it all out ig

totally fine question

everyone has different ideas of what a chaser is, some are more bad faith than others, MY general idea is someone who fetishizes transness and trans bodies

however, some people who also say this also include people who are just attracted to their trans partners/are t4t. so my idea of a fetishist is in a very negative way

what actions i would consider from a fetishist are wanting to control your partners transition, wanting your partner to halt their transition for sexual reasons regardless of what they themselves want, largely doesnt consider their trans partners human on the basis that they're fetishizing them. what this means is that a chaser may consider their partners wellbeing, consent, and opinions secondary to them and/or their fetish

what i DONT believe a chaser is is any person who has a history of dating mostly trans people (or even preferring to date trans people) for any other reason. theres lots of reasons someone may prefer to date trans people, im t4t for safety and comfort reasons

in my idea of what a chaser is, trans people are not excluded from that definition. my nonbinary ex guilted me into not getting top surgery or binding for their sexual fetish of transmasc bodies, and as a result, i lost a lot of my personal identity and my grasp of who i was. however, some people dont believe trans people can be chasers

and, noteably, you can have your preferences in partners influenced by past partners. my first serious trans ex made me realize im really into dominant women who are a little taller than me, for example. its very reasonable that, if you have had very good relationships with trans people, you might want to continue that streak.

also, ignore this bit if its out of pocket, but honestly if you find that you connect more with trans people than cis people, it might be worth exploring your gender a little bit. birds of a feather and all that jazz, yknow?

all in all, i consider a chaser to be inherently in bad faith. if you happen to have a trans partner or even just think trans dudes are hot (we are) then dw about reblogging my stuff! honestly i think with the way social media is right now with everyone assuming bad faith, anyone who even dates a trans person is usually gonna get called a chaser at least once. i've gotten called a chaser so many times, like yall my girlfriend is way worse of a chaser than i am lol

[sunset-peril]

Villain here. Yeah fr. I was kind of a jerk in my post/tags but only because (especially on that day) I was quite frustrated and fed up of the "m*phlink happens in aoc" "um aksually m*phlink is canon in aoc ☝""zelink can never happen in aoc" arguments I kept seeing online in various places.

I do understand wishful thinking and all but it has felt like nobody saying these things actually played the game (or watched the cutscenes all the way through), just purely repeating what others said and running with the fact the champions are alive while ignoring the actual content presented in hwaoc.

Like, if I was a writer setting out to make m*phlink canon, I would not give her a single scene of focus (her introduction) and then have her in the background for the rest of the game, while writing zelink scenes like that castle hallway moment that feel pulled straight from a fan's pre-calamity zelink fanfic lol. Koei Techmo/Nintendo's intent seems pretty obvious (especially since they went and added an entire extra zelink montage in DLC content), so I really don't know how "m*phlink canon in aoc" became such a popular idea?

There's also the robot in the room: Terrako. The name means "earth child" and becomes glued to both Zelda and Link as if they're his parents. I mean one of the DLC scenes even makes them both look like out-of-breath parents who have been searching high and low for their missing toddler (the comedy of the moment being that Terrako is actually more than fully capable of handling himself and they just missed the intense battle that happened)

NOTE: If anyone decided to reblog this, please do not add any ship tags for anyone. That's gonna be my policy moving forward for content like this.

~~~

Completely and entirely understandable. No judgement here. Can't judge actually, I'm a problem sometimes. I've been guilting of misinterpretations too. I had my crap called on my characterizations of Rhoam called out this year, and I've had to revisit both BotW and AoC to fix it. If I blocked everyone who had One of Those Days where they decided to pick a fight against the Fandom, especially for a mischaracterization, I'd be blocking all my mutuals, a lot of people I respect in the Fandom, and also I'd be blocking myself. We're human it happens. So long as you don't endorse being a butt.

I lose my lid on misinterpretations a lot more than I really want to admit. Especially when they have that real coercive wording of "accept the thing as canon or else," or just refuse to acknowledge itself as a headcanon, then get butthurt when they are (very politely or gently) fact checked by someone else. Both of which could have been entirely avoided if people were upfront with whether the Canon had been regarded or not (which is usually what sinks my battleship).

I've sniffed both ends of the skunk (does that saying work?) concerning this whole mess with AoC and BotW and all that jazz just from fic writing alone. Having ZeLink be canon and have there be a true reason for the Zora Armor's existence? Yikes. Piss keyboard warriors on both sides off. (the gist of it being that Link was part of a dying sub-tribe to the Hylians and agreed to an arranged marriage to Mipha to prevent himself from having to commit inc*st, however, Mipha was clear that she knew Link didn't love her and that he only agreed in order to save his sister, and also willingly dissolved their contract when he fell in love with Zelda instead. But that's another post)

But I'd never try to coerce someone into accepting that as the reason for BotW's semi-confusing set up. For all canon purposes, I blame the Zora themselves for not critically thinking about Link's current situation, and believe that they may have been unintentionally manipulative to him simple because they weren't really thinking about Link's complete absence of memory/sense of self. Yet again, not something I'd force somebody to believe as canon. And emphasis on "unintentionally," because I really don't see malice in any of them. Especially Sidon (and whoo, he's a whole other dumpster fire)

As someone who would easily place Age of Calamity into the My Top 3 Zelda Games (shoot me, I know), I've spent a stupid amount of time analyzing that game. The idea for ZeLink being pregnant at the time of Calamity innocently enough came from me and my cousins analyzing the game together and actually making fun of the sheer waistline difference between the white Prayer/Priestess Dress and her pre-Calamity armor. And don't you know that would make people boil if I tried to present that as canon 😂

I fully believe Terrako is 10/10 intended and written to be Zelda and Link's "son." But I wouldn't use any fanon discourse to try and prove that. I don't think I need to with the game in hand. There can be a bit of "stretch" I think that ZeLink fans pull in determining how early in the game Terrako "decides" Link's his dad (I don't believe this happened in the cutscene where Link defends Zelda from the Yiga and Terrako beeps a ton and kind of bites at his ankles, which is where I've seen a lot of ZeLink-ers say it happens). But to me there's absolutely no doubt that Nintendo and Koei intended for Terrako to be their child. And some fans' decisions to try and define One Instance™️ that Zelda/Link/Terrako became one family doesn't detract from the fact that the game heavily appears to be going in that direction. I mean, Zelda is clearly his mom, don't need a degree in Nintendo to figure that one out, which raises the question of why Terrako is almost always following Link around instead of his "mom." I also won't force people to accept that if they don't want to, as long as they at least acknowledge what the canon is actually saying and not what their fanon desires. Points for the newbie fans/offline fans for that one because they're not in this discourse mud all the live long day! (I also watched the Restoring Terrako cutscene again to make sure I'm not accidentally lying, and when Terrako wakes back up and recognizes Zelda, Link does that nod + very slight smile thing that he does to Zelda when Calamity is defeated. He nods a lot in the game of course, but I think those are the only two times he's nodded and smiled. Don't quote me I didn't rewatch the entire game)

The DLC at times definitely feels like Link and Zelda dealing with their little toddler, haha. That picture he takes of them both at the end OOF.

Honestly, it really feels like Mipha is ignored once the Zora Princess plotline is over. Unless I'm severely miscounting, she has about as many "alone" moments with Daruk as she does with Link. And ain't nobody shipping them in AoC! (as far as I'm aware, I'm sure there's someone)

I feel like if Link was supposed to have any chance of falling in love with Mipha in the BotW storyline/universe at ALL, they would have made that astoundingly clear in Age of Calamity. But they don't. It feels even more like a joke in AoC than it did in BotW/TotK. The DLC slams the lid on those fingers even harder.

In fact, we could sit here for the whole night debating about whether or not any ZeLinkness in TotK was already written/known to Nintendo when this game was made AND whether or not they specifically made this game Heavy on the ZeLink or Not Heavy on the ZeLink simply because of whether or not there would be ZeLink in TotK. Because there was at least some time where there was production overlap between the two games. No clue how much, but there was some.

Actually, despite whether or not I wanted to make Link end up with Zelda/Mipha, I still wouldn't have cast her aside like it did. After the Zora Princess plot when Mipha bonds with Ruta, it starts feeling like her only driving motive is her affections for Link. Which we know from Champion's Ballad, the Zora Princess plotline, AND when Sidon/Riju/Yunobo/Teba fall out of the sky that her love for her brother, father and people equates (I would actually say "exceeds") any Link-related motives or personality points that Mipha had. So I would force the story/game to put Mipha in places where Link is completely out of sight out of mind. Because there are some parts of BotW/AoC where it acts like Link's her only purpose in life. Which is a problem.

If I wanted to make sure the public knew that Link was supposed to love her and not Zelda, I would have made it dang sure it was obvious. And the only thing I really find obvious in AoC is that her affections are played almost like a joke (or at best a subplot where everything but the beginning and end were cut from the game last minute). I can't remember how to unlock the Zora Armor in AoC, what quests you have to do, but I do remember it was a LOT. Like, the fact that you have to do a LOT of mediocre side quests (I think you have to be post-game to unlock it? I cant remember, but it raises more points if you do) to unlock it instead of it being accessed through the main story says something about Nintendo's intentions, and to me that "something" smells like "included for reference/fanservice only". It was actually one of the last clothing items I got simply because there were a lot of hoops to go through to get it. (I mainly wanted to unlock it to read the description, and the description almost sounds like Link is making a joke of it, or if he's actually concerned that he could GET IN TROUBLE for having it which... raises a lot of flags).

I would have made sure Link got that armor during the main story if he was supposed to love Mipha. I would've made sure to include a part with Zelda and Terrako that more or less says "I know you like him, but he's not your dad" if he wasn't supposed to end up with Zelda. However, neither of those things exist. And they would HAVE to exist (or something very similar) to outweigh everything else occurring in that game.

The whole rest of the game smells so heavily of a ZeLink fanfiction, I actually want to laugh. I couldn't have based ZeLink fanfiction so heavily off this game if there was no ZeLink.

What also makes me want to laugh? Every interaction Urbosa and Revali have in that game. HYLIA she seems so done with him.

[abysscronica]

I hope it's ok to ask, I noticed you don't interact with many blogs or fandom discourse in general. Is there a reason?

Okay, I've received a couple of asks and DMs more or less revolving around this topic, so I'm going to address it here.

My blog's main goal is to interact with my existing readers, since all my stories are on AO3 and Wattpad (I've only posted a couple here). I use it to answer your questions on my writings, the characters, and whatever you guys want to ask me, and I love it. Of course I'm happy if I get some more readers from Tumblr, but that's not my primary aim here, at least for now.

It would be great to use this page to expand my followers, but I barely have time to actually write these days, so unfortunately, at the moment, I can't afford to spend any to curate this space... except for answering your asks. (on this regard, I know I'm months late for some, please don't lose hope, everything is there and will be worked on eventually!)

That said, even if I do get time to dedicate to my tumblr at some point, it'll probably be ordering my posts and posting my other stories, not much more. Before I go into more details on my thoughts on fandom discourse and fics/headcanons, let me repeat the usual disclaimer...

The ones below represent my very personal views. They are not right or wrong, and it absolutely does not mean I disapprove of different views. I encourage you all to enjoy the fandom experience and community in the way you see fit, as long as it's not damaging you or anyone else.

Fandom discourse. I... simply don't really care about it. I'm talking mainly about One Piece, but this can apply to any content I enjoy. Here's how my experience goes: I read the manga, the SBS, watch the anime, consume basically any content available. I follow a couple of OP youtubers talking about every little thing, from chapter reviews to any kind of news (Tekking101 and Sawyer7mage). Then I write fanfictions based on all the knowledge accumulated, of course expanding into my personal headcanons. This pretty much satiates my thirst for content and need for sources.

Obviously I enjoy talking about OP with other fans, especially like-minded ones such as Kid Pirates fans. Buuuut being an active part of the community can also be exhausting. I'm sure you know there's a lot of Kid dissing going on for example, and Kid fans are often caught in battles to defend him. I honestly don't want to take part into it, because I don't think other people's feelings about a character should influence my experience of the show anyway, so I don't care about changing their mind either. I just... wanna do my own thing and share it with my mutuals & readers.

Analyses, meta, theories. Honestly, the two OP youtubers I follow (plus Arthur's posts on Twitter) fulfill this need in a very comprehensive way. I've yet to see a single tumblr post that comes even close to their insights (but if you know some, feel free to point me in that direction, I'll be happy to check them out). They often even contain inaccurate information. I do reblog whatever I deem interesting though, and I'll gladly answer to anything if you wanna know about my thoughts.

Fics & headcanons. Once again, I'll always be super happy to share my content with you guys. I cannot accept fic requests but feel free to ask for any headcanon you may be interested in!

As for other people's stuff. I said this before, unfortunately I'm a terribly picky reader (this does not only apply to fics, but to literature in general). The slightest hint of "unjustified" OC, a Mary Sue trait on a MC, too many cliches, a writing style that does not catch me... I'll scroll ahead. I know many will roll their eyes at this, and they are right, but I just won't impose something I don't fully enjoy to myself, not with my limited spare time. But writers should write whatever they want and I'll never be unsupportive of that, even if it's not my jazz! The stuff I read and enjoyed, I reblog.

This should be all I have to say on the matter. If you have any further question, feel free to send and ask.

[paleoblue]

Hi, i'm Paleo, but my friends usually call me Pablo. Don't call me Blue. Welcome to my blog!

🚹 Non-Binary [any pronouns] | 🏳️‍🌈 Pansexual | 🎂 18 | Follow at your own discretion, please

•———•———•

Most know me as an artist, some know me as a musician. You'll find my endeavors in the former here, as well as occasional "funny" text posts and lots of reblogs of art i like.

I enjoy making characters, and I often log their lore in text posts. None of my characters are based on existing properties, but many are inspired by my interests. Just don't anticipate me giving my blorbos boyfriends.

If you wanna see just my art without the reblogs or any of the other stuff, you can check the first tag on this post. I've also included original character tags if you're looking for art featuring one specific character of mine.

Don't expect a lot of the same type of art. I like to experiment, and I don't enjoy limiting myself to one specific niche. I'm more than just the big lizard men, contrary to popular belief. My art style is also ever-evolving because stagnation kills me, so try to keep that in mind.

•———•———•

I also have a linktree for my other accounts, and if you want, you can add me on Discord! You can find all of that here:

My Instagram is currently the only place where I post directly from my sketchbook, so if you wanna see some bonus art without any of the text posts, go check me out over there.

Along with that, my Twitter's where all my random thoughts and opinions go, so if you wanna hear me actually talk about the stuff I enjoy, you can head on over to that site.

•———•———•

My interests cover a broad range, so expect a lot of fanart of my favorite things.

I love adventure games, puzzle games, metroidvanias, soulslikes, and more recently find myself enjoying jrpgs. I like tabletop rpgs but unfortunately I do not get many chances to play them. Fantasy and science fiction settings are some of my favorite worlds to immerse myself in, and i'm also a big fan of steampunk. Grounded or modern settings can also be interesting, which is why I based my own characters on a setting more familiar to current media consumers, while still retaining some more fantastical elements.

I really like indie and alternative music, and especially enjoy a large variety of rock. Jazz and fusion are really cool, and funk is just a fun time all around. I'd say my favorite band is probably The Strokes.

•———•———•

This is my sona, Pablo! This particular outfit is heavily inspired by Jack from Bioshock, hence the wrench, but he also has some other outfits that take inspiration from other sources. He's tall for a kobold, and he's flat-footed instead of digitigrade. He's also the perfect size for being held, specifically by a very large man, but that's not very important, is it?

I'd describe his personality, but that would get too personal cause he's kinda just me, so i'll leave it at this: if you want to do fanart but you feel you don't have the proper reference material, I would be willing to send more through direct messages.

•———•———•

Some side notes:

-This post is subject to change. Not every detail will remain consistent.

-I do not have a posting schedule, so expect to see occasional long gaps between posts.

I hope you like my blog :)

[twoiinthehand]

Mobile Rules

Under the cut.

Hi friends! I’m Sammi, 25 (she/her). Lot of the basics! If you’ve been around you know most of these, honestly.

All threads will be under the ‘Threads’ button. They will be posted as soon as I reply to them and will show up there. Mun and Muse are 21+, and I’ve 10+ years of rp experience.

Warning: Darker themes will be present here, I don’t have any triggers and tag anything as (tw: long post) for example.

>I typically love to make starters as soon as I see a follow, but might not always happen! All starters are 'first-interaction' with whatever muse jumps out at me first.

>I am selective-ish, which just basically means I follow back on the premise of our characters getting on well. Sometimes I’m quick to follow back, sometimes I’m not, just depends!

>Anything tagged #audiovisual is something I’ve made myself, whether that’s voice acting wise or drawings. Reblogs and likes are encouraged! 

>Given that the twins lead dual-lives, they are rather careful with who knows and who does, and there are exceptions to this. Heroes have every right to go forth and call them out but every day folks, not so much.

>Memes are tagged accordingly and have no expiration date, always open!

>All verses are here 

>I have no issue writing short sentences to para/novella. I have a tendency to lean into a longer reply, but never feel that you have to match me!

>Activity is sporadic because of school, many jobs, and life and things. I do make it a point to log on as much as possible to see what's going on dash/reply wise.

>Formatting? Yeah friend right on! I enjoy doing tiny text and all that jazz, but not always. I will match whatever I see you do. My icons are usually 90 x 90 or so.

>I don’t auto-ship, if anything friends/platonic is assumed at first. As far as shipping is concerned, I’m here for all the ships! But chemistry above all else. Friends, frenemies, lovers, all that stuff. Makes the brain do happy things.

>If any kind of smut comes up, it’ll be under a read more and tagged #nsfvv.

>Any harm from Ro/Lu will be discussed OOC

>Multiship, open to polyam.

>IC does not equal OOC.

Discord is available to mutuals! I respond equally between Tumblr’s messenger and Discord.

Anything I post doesn’t belong to me unless stated so.

I don't do drama, call outs, or passwords. With that being said, if you like my pinned post, it lets me know that you're interested in writing and I'll be sure to reach out to you via meme, DM or ask!

And that’s it!

[tekatonic]

2023 blog update !

Sooo happy new year everyone, and let's get into the thick of it, because I have a lot of words to spew out from my little tired brain ( i swear i started writing this at 4am, how's it past 6 already ? ). Beware long post...

I'm ditching the "sonic fandom" categorizing tag, most of my blog is sonic stuff so it doesn't really matter ( i'll change out the old tag on my old posts later when i remember... )

I wanted to change my url, cause i don't like what it stands for now, but it's what I'm credited as in the SWA zine and i don't wanna inconvenience them this late in the thing, so I'm gonna keep it for the time being. Maybe in a few months I'll change it ?

I kinda hate tagging my posts so i think i'm gonna stop using most of my tags when i'm reblogging, just doing my regular comments instead and content warnings if it needs it ( don't forget you can always ask to tag ! ), and of course, the reblog tag stays.

This doesn't mean I'm ditching the categorizing tags entirely though. I'm gonna try something. At every end of the month I'll go into the mass post editor and just correctly tag everything. ( I might still tag characters and fandoms the regular way for non-sonic stuff ).

I might reblog a little less. Or at least try to. The amount of stuff I usually reblog kind of overwhelms me ( sideblog will not be affected as it's a lot less pressure ).

I have a lot saved up in my likes tab that i still need to get to reblogging... might be time to revive the 'queued' tag ?

I'm still gonna be serial-replying, sorry... It's just less stress for me.

In terms of resolutions... I wanna post more art ! I basically stopped entirely in the later half of 2022 cause of ID anxiety and that's no good, art is what i made this blog for ! I also still haven't introduced you guys to my AU and I was supposed to do that in, like, June 2022... So I'm gonna do that. Lemme know what format you think I should post the 24 ( and more ) images in ? ^^;

Maybe I could post my long rambles and weird ""essays"" ( heavy quotations because those are basically liveblogging of my current thoughts ), if you guys would like to see that. A lot of questioning logic, lore, headcanons and theories. Stuff like that.

I want to interact more with the fandom ! Provide actual content ! Be active, be friends, y'know. Do the club activities and all that jazz. Art challenges, redraws, collabs, whiteboards, dtiys... I wanna be part of the cool/uncool kids and have fun while doing it !

I'm gonna go through sideblog-exclusive stuff below the cut since I'm sure most of y'all don't care about that. I only have 3 or 4 followers on there since I've only ever shared it with friends, so you probably don't even know it exists.

Alright so for ekana-to-hana.

It's basically gonna stay the same

I haven't been drawing my sonas and their universe a lot, so sorry about no new original art... I'm gonna try to draw them more !

All this time I've been just reblogging random stuff, but I think I'm gonna start sharing the things I like. Of course those posts won't get any more than 3 notes unless people actually like what i care about ( plants, fashion, ultra-specific aesthetics, various potential craft hobbies ), but hey whatever.

So in short, more original posts.

I might ( emphasis on 'might' ) start posting personal life updates like, i dunno, plant pics, merch if i get some, ramblings about life and shit.

Unlike my main blog, tagging remains unchanged, since i have way less to organize ( no characters and fandom tags ).

I should sort out my organizing tags for personal clarity tho.

Maybe I'll do some OC+fandom art, to promote the account ? But honestly I wouldn't really count on it.

And that's all folks.

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 6

The final part!! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion! Thank you so much to everyone who has reblogged/commented/shared - it has meant so much. Special thank you again to @morganofthewildfire I'd still be working away at this fic if it wasn't for you, I don't know I ever would have finished it off. Your comments and analysis helped me so much and made this fic better than I could have alone, I'm so grateful.

13k - masterlist - ao3

--

There are five weeks between the eventful wrap party and her first day shooting the Netflix miniseries in Antica. Five weeks for Aelin to sort her shit.

It’s ambitious, and probably unattainable, but she needs a goal.

She needs something to draw her mind away from Rifthold and the director she knows is no longer there.

She gives herself a week of self pity. A week of lying around her sparsely decorated and impersonal Orynth apartment dwelling and pointedly ignoring the headlines she knows have been released. Elide let her know only one picture was captured of her with tears in her eyes leaving the party. Only one and gods bless Elide she shut it down.

Aelin lies on her uncomfortable couch in well-worn pyjamas with unwashed hair and runs through the photos on her phone of her and Fenrys, her and Manon, and the group of them together on set doing whatever shit they used to do.

She spends more time than she should like that. She sits there until her coffee table is overflowing with takeaway wrappers and Aedion and Elide have stopped texting more than once a day. She’s awful for ignoring them but she’s still mortified.

She hasn’t been able to look Aedion in the eyes since he dropped her back at her apartment after their long flight home from Rifthold. He didn’t say much. After he managed to again get her out of the party with minimal press she had cried, curled up between Aedion and Lysandra in their bed, and he didn’t offer judgement or instruction.

He just held her, whispering words she can’t remember but appreciates anyway. Now she hasn’t replied to any of his texts.

She hasn’t texted Fenrys or Manon either. She doesn’t know what to say.

She knows Fenrys jumped immediately into another movie, an action movie she knows he’s been chomping at the bit to get training for, and Manon into the second series of her show that she’s probably too famous for now.

They’re busy. They’ll understand. At least that’s what she tells herself.

The worst thing she does in that week is pour over the photos she has of Rowan. She didn’t realise she had so many but her camera roll is full of silver and green.

There are photos of just him, looking like Rowan, tall and handsome and understatedly happy, smiling covert little smiles at Aelin behind the camera. He was used to her instructing him to pose by the end of filming, she loved snapping away as he did anything. Eating, sleeping, smiling, everything - if it was Rowan she wanted it captured.

Now every photo is a knife to the chest.

The ones of the two of them together are worse, they twist the knife, pain splicing through her until she can hardly breathe. There are pictures of their cheeks pressed together, eyes shining, some serious, some silly. In all of them Aelin can clearly see her own happiness.

She can’t stop looking at them even as tears swell in her eyes and her throat gets tight.

For one week.

Until it’s been seven days since her flight landed back in Orynth and she gets up off her couch and deletes them. She almost doesn’t, her thumb hovers over the button for a good minute before she presses down but then it’s done and they’re gone. She showers and changes her clothes, she throws away all the rubbish on her coffee table and makes a plan.

Filming the movie with all of them it was easy to feel better than she did before, surrounded by new and exciting things, new people who didn’t know her before or treat her differently because of it. It was easy to lose herself in who she was there and with them.

Now though, she’s back to real life and real life lasts for an uneventful three weeks.

She tries what she can, she reads, she runs, she bakes, she teaches herself how to knit. None of it is satisfying and it's hard to make it stick. It’s all boring and never quite captures her attention the way she hopes. Never captures her attention enough to tear it away from Rowan and Rifthold.

A week before she flies out to Antica it changes.

She stumbles upon the change, completely accidentally, and she doesn’t realise what she’s needed until it's right in front of her.

Her usual run route is obstructed by construction and so she takes a left where she usually takes a right, heading down into the west side of the city, the side she doesn’t often frequent.

She used to. She used to spend hours strolling the streets letting the warmth of the sun and Sam’s hand in hers settle into her skin as they observed the numerous bakeries and small boutiques. Thankfully the scenery appears to have changed since.

The chill breeze of the September Orynth air teases the loose strands of hair tickling her face as she comes to a stop outside the sleek shop front. The wooden panels are painted a dark, glossy black and the windows are polished so brightly they reflect what’s left of the sunlight.

Music of Mistward the sign reads in curved, white lettering.

She can see her reflection in the shop window, her cheeks flushed, hair unruly, her running gear nowhere near to what would be appropriate attire for the shop dripping in class but she can’t turn away.

A bell tinkles as she pushes through the door, her headphones gripped tight in her fist as the gentle jazz playing over the sound system greets her. She doesn’t like jazz, it’s not her thing, but along with the musk of wood in the air it’s soothing in welcoming her in.

She passes walls of guitars and violins until she reaches the instrument that caught her eye. It’s sleek, black lid propped open revealing the elegant strings, pulled tight in neat lines. The sharp contrast of the keys against each other, bright against the deep black of the case. Her fingers ghost over them, dying to press down.

She hasn’t played since those days in Rowan’s Doranelle home. She’s wanted to, longed to feel the cool keys under her fingertips and the flood of the music pouring out of her, but the cheap keyboard in her Orynth apartment wouldn’t do Rowan’s beautiful instrument justice.

Aelin would rather not play at all than attempt a cheap imitation of what she felt there.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice sounds behind her, low and raspy but cheerful all the same.

She turns, taking in the older man, his grey hair cut short and his classic shirt and slacks pressed crisp. She glances back to the piano before facing him fully.

“Stunning,” she breathes.

The man steps forwards and offers her his hand. She slips her hand into his and he pumps firmly as he introduces himself.

“Emrys,” he says. “Welcome to Music of Mistward.”

“Aelin,” she says, surprised to hear her voice thick.

“Great to meet you, Aelin,” Emrys says with an ancient smile. He nods towards the piano. “Do you play?”

“No,” she says and Emrys’ smile flickers. “Yes, I mean I used to. I want to,” is what she settles on.

He nods, satisfied, before taking a step closer to the piano. He runs a hand over the top, almost reverently and smiles to himself.

“Antique,” he starts, “almost one hundred years old but well loved. I acquired it recently - here we deal mostly in antique instruments, it’s a passion for both myself and my husband. The previous owner only sold it to me when she inherited it and didn’t know how to play, she wanted it to find a good home.”

He shares a smile with her as if she’s in on the joke but her breathing still hasn’t settled.

“Satin Ebony finish,” Emrys continues, “eighty-eight keys, all original but preserved to the highest quality. Accompanying bench, cut with refreshed velvet. I don’t know in all my years I’ve seen such a fine instrument as old as this.”

Aelin glances back to the piano, it’s big, it won’t fit in her apartment in Orynth but she doesn’t care. She can… adjust. She hasn’t felt a pull like this in a while, she doesn’t want to deny it when she does.

“How much?” she almost demands from the man in front of her.

He appraises her and she knows what he sees. Her bedraggled state and the tension through her shoulders doesn’t give the impression of someone with this much cash to throw around. She abruptly ignores that the way she probably can afford this is because of Rowan’s movie.

When he doesn’t speak she repeats herself, more firmly. “How much?”

“Our price includes delivery and tuning on arrival.” He seems apprehensive of telling her the truth. Aelin waits.

When he finally reveals the figure Aelin blinks. And then she extends her hand. “I’ll take it.”

To his credit Emrys just nods, shaking her hand. “You don’t want to at least play it first?”

Aelin feels the smirk she hasn’t worn in a while creep onto her face. “Is there a risk you’re pulling a fast one on me?”

Emrys returns her smile, a playful glint in his eye. “Not a chance, Aelin. Please follow me to the register where I can take your details.”

Aelin almost stumbles. Almost, but then recovers.

“Any chance I can pay a deposit and then let you know where you’ll be delivering sometime soon?”

Emrys winks knowingly. “Absolutely.”

She follows him to the counter, signs away part of a disgustingly large total of money but leaves with a sense of satisfaction. It’s an accomplishment, a step for purely selfish reasons.

The first thing she does when she leaves the shop is call Elide.

Aelin meets her new therapist two days before she flies out to Antica.

She hasn’t called her old one in months and thinks that’s probably a sign. And she’s all about changes at the moment.

She isn’t shooting in Antica for too long, only a couple of months until she’s back in Orynth and then back to Rifthhold for press. Her stomach drops everytime the thought wanders into her head.

She’s excited to be back in Rifthold, but the company is daunting.

Fenrys and Manon will easily be pissed at her disappearance. She knows Manon will play aloof but she also knows she’ll be upset, Fenrys too. Aelin didn’t mean to hurt them, didn’t mean to drop off the face of the Earth, and she knows she’s let them down but Fenrys and Manon remind her of Rowan. She couldn’t trust the conversation not to eventually steer towards him and Aelin isn’t ready for that.

Their break-up feels weirdly anticlimactic. After everything they built to, Aelin just dipped.

She knows it seems that way to Rowan at least. She hasn’t texted him, or rang him or anything since the party. She’s wanted to, wanted more than anything to hear his voice as she cried, but it’s not fair to him to drag it out and she knows that. She knew when she drew the line she had to stay on her side of it, no matter how much it hurt.

She had cried until her head pounded and her throat was raw. She cried until her eyes itched with no tears left to fall, until all that came out of her was hoarse screeches as she ached to hear him call her Fireheart one last time.

But no one needs to know that, she had kept it as hidden as she could.

She definitely didn’t need any more paparazzi pictures of her with red-rimmed eyes looking downtrodden. She couldn’t bear the thought of Rowan, or worse her mother, seeing them.

She knows Fenrys and Manon; Aedion, Lysandra and Elide would see through her flimsy excuses and so it was easier to stay quiet.

She’s not thinking about facing them yet. She supposes that will be something that likely comes up with this new therapist, but so far on her own, she’s choosing avoidance.

She gets Maeve’s number from Dorian, and she comes highly recommended by a number of Dorian’s other high profile clients. She’s well-versed in non-disclosure agreements, secret sessions and back street exits; she feels like the perfect fit for Aelin.

Unofficially, Dorian lets her know Maeve takes no shit, and that’s also just what Aelin needs.

They agree to online sessions while she’s in Antica, but Maeve recommended an initial meeting and Aelin is open to all of her suggestions.

Their first hour is not directly her most life changing but it’s a start.

“Welcome, Aelin,” Maeve says, sweeping an arm out towards the firm-looking, orange couch in the centre of the room.

Aelin takes a seat, mutters her thanks and glances around the room.

The room should feel cold with the exposed brick and minimalistic decor, the only furniture being the couch Aelin perches on, the almost regal armchair Maeve reclines in and a lamp, but it doesn’t and she gets comfortable tucking her feet beneath her thighs and leaning against the arm.

“So,” Maeve begins, surveying her in the way only a true professional can. “Let’s get started.”

Aelin feels bare beneath her gaze, and like everything about Maeve and her practise it should be unnerving but she just blinks against the scrutiny.

“Why are you here today? You could start with sharing why you have made this appointment.”

And isn’t that the million gold-mark question?

Aelin takes a deep breath through her nose and raises her chin.

“I don’t want to move backwards,” she admits. “Or maybe I just want to know I’ve actually moved forwards.”

Maeve’s expression stays calm, but Aelin knows she’d be smirking if she could. She’s well aware of how therapy works but even so, speaking her thoughts aloud can help to verify them in her own mind.

Aelin hopes so at least.

Their hour is over quickly and Aelin is resolved that Maeve is a good fit, reassured in Dorian’s claim that the woman takes no shit. Her all-knowing assessment of Aelin should have been unsettling but the frank dissection is what she needs.

Online therapy, especially fitting it around shooting might be a challenge but it’s for the best. As much as she values her independence and standing on her own two feet, Aelin is big enough to admit that facing her mother again may require some professional guidance. Seeing Rowan too, but again, she’s not thinking about that yet.

Antica is hot and Aelin is sweaty within seconds of stepping out of the air-conditioned luxury of the airport. That feeling lasts the entire time she’s there, disrupting the otherwise enjoyable time she has shooting the series.

Her new co-stars are fine, they invite her out with them and make her smile but she can’t help as though a part of her is always comparing them to who and what she left in Rifthold. Aelin tries her best to enjoy her time there with them, she hosts dinner parties and invites them to a game of Aedion’s but nothing quite hits the same as her time spent on The Crescent City.

She rationalises it to Maeve, that The Crescent City was a big turning point in her life and that it has nothing to do with Rowan, Fenrys or Manon, but she’s not sure she even believes it herself.

She spends the rest of her time in Antica trying to convince herself, and Maeve, that she’s moving past it. That she’s moving forwards or else she’ll move backwards. She’s not sure how much of it is futile.

The Crescent City is done, whether she likes it or not, and she can’t deny it changed her in ways she didn’t expect. It’s a hard pill to swallow that maybe it changed her beyond return to how she was before. She also can’t quite figure out whether she thinks that’s a bad thing or not.

They have a dinner for the core cast and crew, including Rowan, once they’re all back in Rifthold for the beginning of the press cycle. They have one night to reacquaint before they’re shoved into the whirlwind that is interviews, photoshoots and promotion.

She’s seen the trailer already and it’s just as she expected but more. It’s dark and dreary with flashes of brightness from herself and Fenrys and she’d want to watch it if she chanced a viewing as a member of the public.

What is surreal, is to see herself in a polished version of the film they were creating. Or at least a part of it.

She said each of the lines, rehearsed them over and over until they fell off her tongue without thought, but she still doesn’t recognise the girl in the trailer. A droplet of pride slips down her chest at the realisation that it’s not Aelin in the trailer but Feyre. She knows she’s good, has known it all along, but the realisation and reaffirmation is ecstasy better than any drug.

She hovers outside the restaurant, watching through the window, needing a couple more seconds before she submits herself to the assault of them all again. She still hasn’t replied to either Fenrys or Manon and the thought presses on her like lead but it’s too late to change that now.

If she’s honest she’s concerning herself with Fenrys and Manon in the hopes of distracting herself from the fact that she’s seconds away from Rowan. Seconds away from him in the flesh, his solid body in front of her that she had learned almost as well as her own.

Her palms are clammy and she wipes them against the fabric of her trousers. The upcoming interviews and photoshoots will all be styled for her and so she’s relishing in her last moments for a while of truly dressing like Aelin.

She takes a step towards the restaurant door, the tip of her trainer bumping the wood when a voice sounds behind her.

“Well, hello there, Stranger.”

Aelin braces herself, hand paused outstretched where it had been reaching for the door.

She turns, biting her lip as she faces Fenrys. He looks the same as he did, skin still golden, eyes still dancing with mischief, but his golden curls are trimmed shorter than the last time she saw him. His expression is carefully blank.

“I- Hi… um,” she stumbles over the words. “I’ve missed you.”

Fenrys breaks almost immediately. “Oh thank the fucking gods.”

He surges forwards and wraps her into a tight hug. Aelin clings to him, fighting the tears in her eyes as she buries her face in his chest. She’s gone far too long without this, without him, and it’s all her own fault.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” Fenrys asks. “Oh wait, no you don’t. I’m assuming your phone broke, or was stolen or something since you never replied to any of my texts letting you know.”

Aelin knows her cheeks are stained pink. “I’m sorry,” she admits.

“I know.” His voice softens, losing the teasing edge as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

He pauses before he speaks again, his eyes running over her face. “You could have texted me anytime, you know. Manon too. I know you might forget or try to convince yourself otherwise, but we are your friends. You could have called us about literally anything.”

Aelin feels like she could cry. She’s not sure that she isn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, especially not related to the movie,” or Rowan he doesn’t say but Aelin hears it. “We just wanted to hear your stupid voice.”

Aelin pouts. “My voice isn’t stupid.”

She pokes her tongue out as he rolls his eyes, easily falling back into the dynamic they had shaped a few months ago.

“Not what I meant,” he says before pausing, taking her in as she stands in front of him. “You can’t lose us that easily, you know. We’re like rats or fleas or something. Hard to get rid of.”

“Nice,” she comments, but her chest is tight at his words.

He smiles at her before adding, “and you had fucking better text me back.”

Aelin laughs through the sniffles he’s kindly ignoring. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and finds his contact. Hi she sends and feels his phone buzz against her.

“Much better,” he says and releases her from his arms. “Now, are you ready for a night of the finest dining all on the studio credit card?”

Aelin laughs again. “Lead the way.”

He shoots her a wink and waltzes ahead to hold the door open for her.

Fenrys’ presence shouldn’t reassure her the way it does, especially after the way she has treated him but she clings to him anyway. He’s her buffer for now, a crutch for tonight and tonight only. Once tonight is over and tomorrow begins she and Rowan can be professional, they managed it for months during filming and this should be no different.

Rowan still looks the way he did the night she broke his heart.

His silver hair falls elegantly over his forehead as he bends his head to talk to Manon, the pair of them are engrossed in a conversation as she and Fenrys walk over, not spotting them yet. She loves his hair, loves the thick silver waves and the way they feel between her fingers. She loves the way any attempt he makes to arrange the thick strands is never quite able to tame the beast. She loves the shirt he has on, with the sleeves rolled up exposing inches of tanned skin and dark ink, the same worn green cotton she wore numerous times around his living room all those months ago. She can still remember the feel of it against her bare skin.

His smile is the same, his green eyes crinkling as his lips barely part as he does his best to hold it back.

His smile is the same until he spots her.

He catches sight of her when she reaches the table and his smile drops, the shutters closing over his expression so fast she wouldn’t know he knew how to smile had she not just seen it.

It tears her chest in two and any attempt at a smile on her part is futile. It’s all she can do to make it to her seat without stumbling and she’s sure she misses any other greetings she gets as she slumps onto the chair opposite Manon. She absently notes Fenrys dropping in at her side.

She can’t look away from Rowan, her eyes scanning to try and find anything that distinguishes him from the man she loved all those months ago. She finds nothing. He’s still Rowan and Aelin still… fuck.

He recovers before she does, ever the collected courtier, clearing his throat and nodding.

“Aelin,” he says and she adores the sound of her name on his tongue.

“Hi Rowan,” she manages and hears how weak she sounds. Rowan hears it too. She can tell from the purse of his lips and the tension in the hand he rests along the back of Manon’s chair.

Aelin allows her eyes to drift to Manon and she finally catches the thunderous expression the younger girl wears.

“Hi,” she whispers and Manon blinks.

“Hi?” Manon repeats incredulously.

Aelin is fucked.

“Five months and I get a hi?”

It’s loud and a few heads turn their way. It’s simultaneously mortifying and everything Aelin deserves.

“I’m sorry,” she says plainly.

She could lie, make up some useless excuses but in the end there’s nothing else but the truth and if Manon wants her to grovel she will, she’s just not sure this is the time or place.

Fenrys shares her thoughts. “Later, Manon,” he says, gently.

Rowan’s eyes stay firmly glued to the tablecloth as Manon frowns, seemingly unwilling to let it go.

After a few seconds, seconds Aelin spends waiting for the ground to open up and swallow her, Manon nods. She nods and turns to Fenrys, demanding to know what he’s ordering. And just like that Aelin has a moment to catch her breath.

She knew this dinner wouldn’t be easy, knew she’d be walking into the lion's den of her own making, but she hadn’t expected it to be as hard. Hadn’t expected seeing Rowan to feel like a slap, hadn’t expected Manon’s hurt to scrape across her skin leaving her raw.

She tries not to think she deserves it, Maeve would only raise a brow as if to say we’ve been over this. The thought is sobering, and she manages to lift her head.

It is what it is, what’s done is done and she can only apologise and move forwards.

As much as she tries to resist, Aelin finds herself watching Rowan throughout the night. It’s scary how familiar he feels, he should feel like a stranger, but he feels like she knows him too well. He laughs when she expects, rolls his eyes when she predicts. He orders what she thought he would and he sips away at an orange juice the way he did the first dinner they all had together.

Aelin already feels so different than she did the last time she was in Rifthold and he seems unchanged.

She observes for most of the night, feeling drained despite her minimal contributions to the conversations. She speaks when spoken to and actively avoids speaking when Rowan does, she definitely doesn’t respond to anything he says even though she wants to at least twice and wants to laugh a couple more.

She makes it through and clings to Fenrys again as they all leave, linking her arm through his as they leave the restaurant. He knows what she’s doing but graciously guides her out of the building. Once on the pavement outside the restaurant he pauses and turns to her.

“What hotel are you staying in while you’re here?”

The rest of the group are milling about, calling taxis and bidding their farewells. Aelin doesn’t know how she’s getting back yet, she’s assuming she’ll split a ride with someone.

“Um, the Glass Castle, I think,” she says, desperately trying to recall the name of the hotel she dumped her bags in a few hours earlier.

“Boo,” Fenrys laughs, pointing his thumb down. “They’ve got me in the Torre Cesme. Think I’m ages away from you.”

Aelin laughs, disappointed but ready to order her own taxi back when a voice she didn’t expect sounds.

“I’ve just ordered a cab to the Glass Castle, I’m staying there too. You can jump in if you want.”

Rowan.

She shoots Fenrys a panicked look but his expression is pure glee.

“That would be great thanks, Boss,” Fenrys says, shrugging his arm out of hers and nudging her towards Rowan.

“No problem, Boyo.” Rowan offers Fenrys a dark grin at the nickname and the sight of it stills her. It’s new, he used to roll his eyes whenever Fenrys would drop it into conversation, but now Rowan’s playing along. And the grin, the curl of the lips and the narrowing of the eyes, it’s sexy as fuck.

It’s only taken one night and she’s back in the danger zone. She doesn’t want to be, hell, she wants him to take her back to his hotel room and peel off her clothes but this is Rowan. She’s spent the last few months trying to get over him, falling into bed with him the first night she sees him again would not likely be defined as progress.

He’s also not likely to want that after what she did.

“You don’t have to,” she says. The first direct thing she’s said to him since their greeting.

“I know.” A slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “But we’re going to the same place, it wouldn’t seem logical to take different cars.”

Logic. That’s all it is.

“Right.” She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so awkward with him, not even at the start. “Thank you,” she says, following him to the car.

Fenrys shoots her a grin as he slips into his own taxi. Traitor.

Rowan holds the door open for her and slips in behind her. She tries not to think anything of the fact he could have easily taken the front seat.

The ride is silent apart from the easy chit chat he makes with the driver, another thing she’s not sure she noticed him do before, and she stares out the window as the city passes by. The streets of Rifthold are not her home but she feels a brightness as she glances down the curving roads, spotting groups of people milling about enjoying the night.

She knows the first call she made to Elide in weeks was the right call. Elide is the only person she’d trust with her bank account and access to real estate listings. The link to the flat her friend had sent over has stayed open in her browser since she got it.

It’s modern with classic twists, situated in a recently renovated old warehouse with miles of exposed brick and rustic wooden panelling. She loves the master bedroom the most, with its adjoining en suite with a huge bathtub she can picture herself soaking in. She has a viewing booked in two days but doubts she’ll even need it.

It’s not long before the taxi pulls up outside the hotel and she follows Rowan through the glass doors. He presses the button for the lifts and Aelin shifts in the awkward silence.

Awkward is not something she’s used to with Rowan. Or it wasn’t before.

The doors slide open and again she follows him inside.

He pauses with a hand hovering over the buttons for the floors. “Which floor?”

“Nine.”

Aelin hates these one word exchanges compared to the hours they used to share talking about everything and nothing. She can’t believe this is the man she was so vulnerable with.

His short huff of laughter drags her gaze to his face.

“What?”

“Makes sense,” is what he says, shaking his head and pressing only the button for the ninth floor.

The ride takes seconds, a minute at most, filled with the silence between them.

When the doors open to the ninth floor she steps out, determined not to follow him again, and she feels him follow her. Even now she’s so aware of his powerful body and the way he moves it. She shouldn’t be so attracted to the power emanating from him, from the breadth of his shoulders to the sureness of his steps. She wants him, doesn’t think she ever stopped, except now he’s the forbidden fruit. Forbidden only by her own actions.

She reaches her door, room 905, but pauses with her key tucked in her hand.

“Thanks for letting me share your cab,” she says, finding herself desperate not to say goodbye yet. “I can transfer you for half.”

That finally, finally, cracks a whisper of a smile but she’s not sure she enjoys his laughter if it’s at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

That should be the end of it, she should open her door and shut it behind her, they have a few weeks ahead of them that will be hard enough without any complications.

She left him and he seems gracious enough to have mostly moved past it.

“It was good to see you, Aelin,” he says, seemingly unwilling to let the night end as well. She doesn’t let the seed of hope sprout because what would be the point?

Nevertheless, Aelin smiles, leaning back against her door.

Rowan continues, “even if I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go.”

Her attention is spiked. “What do you mean?”

She can’t lie, a part of her expects him to back down at the edge to her voice. He doesn’t.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to pretend nothing ever happened between us.”

She blinks, giving herself a second to process.

Maybe this isn’t the same Rowan from all those months ago. That night he let her walk away from him, gods know she needed it, but a dark little part of her had wanted him to fight her harder. Fight harder for her. When he hadn’t she’d taken it as her sign.

She knows the expectation was toxic, if he had fought her it would have only pissed her off, but she wishes she’d had someone to tell her it was the wrong choice. It would have helped to hear in the moment, rather than be faced with Rowan months down the line that she wants and can’t have.

The Rowan in front of her, the third Rowan she’s known, stares her down. His eyes peel away each of the layers she’s worked with Maeve for months to don in a second.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It’s honest and maybe she’s not the same Aelin as a few months ago either.

That’s what she had asked for that night in the cool air, to move past them with as little commotion as possible, stirring up as little attention as they could. She hadn’t wanted to let them eclipse the movie and yet that ended up being exactly what she had accomplished.

Now though, Aelin knows better.

Rowan nods as his eyes dart across her face. He seems to step closer without realising. Aelin notes the motion, still so aware of him and his proximity to her.

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “I was so angry at you for leaving.”

Aelin loses her breath at his confession.

Eventually she manages, “was?”

He looks away from her, glancing down the dark hallway, his jaw tight. When she’s with him she forgets about the world around them, there’s probably-definitely-CCTV in this hallway but he’s here and she can’t let him go yet.

His fists curl and uncurl as he takes a deep breath.

“Was,” he says shortly. “I was so angry at you, the way you did what you did was shit.”

Aelin swallows. He’s not wrong.

“I know.”

“But now I don’t know.” She lifts her eyes to his, swimming in the openness she doesn’t deserve. And fuck that. That is such bullshit. She meets his stare, returning all that he isn’t saying. “I spent a long time thinking about it, thinking about you, and it took me a while but now I get it.”

That hurts more than she expects. She didn’t expect him to be all over her the minute they reunited but his understanding was always a kicker.

“I know why you did it,” he continues. “And that took most of the wind out of my sails.”

Aelin frowns. He can’t possibly know why.

“I don’t think you do.” He tilts his head, an invitation for her to expand. “Or you’d know that nothing has changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

His question throws her. Completely.

She tilts her head up to look at him, closer to her than he’s been all night, pushing her to keep being honest with him.

She’s dazed being this close to him again after so long, the green of his eyes stronger than she remembers. Or maybe her brain had assured her the memory of him couldn’t have been real.

“I don’t know,” she admits, unable to fight the way her body leans into him.

His teeth graze his lower lip and she follows the motion.

He’s silent for a beat too long and her skin is thrumming under his attention. She doesn’t know how she’s gone this long without him, she doesn’t know how she thought she’d survive never having him again.

“Let me know when you figure it out,” he says finally, drawing back and a rush of cool air fills the space he had taken. “Goodnight Aelin.”

He turns and she watches his back down the hallway. He slips easily into a room a few doors down and she’s left watching the path he’d taken, feeling the weight of his eyes on her lips.

Her head thuds against the door as she screws her eyes shut. She wants to scream, wants to chase him down the hall, wants to fly back to Orynth where she was safe.

She doesn’t do any of those things.

She tucks herself into her hotel room and readies herself for the whirlwind that’s about to hit. These next few weeks are going to be hard, not just dealing with the Rowan situation, but she can’t fight the excitement she feels.

Fuck. She’s back in Rifthold, back where she loves, doing what she was born to do.

This is big. She can feel it.

The Crescent City is not her first project, and so she’s been a part of press cycles before, she knows how they go. What she doesn’t know is how a press cycle for something like this works.

The only word she can find is insanity.

There are somehow earlier mornings than they had while shooting and often longer days. She gets poked and prodded in hair and make-up for hours before they spend all day sat in a hotel room filming repetitive interviews for various magazines.

She and Fenrys are genuinely friends and yet they still have to put on a show in front of the cameras. She plays up her laughter when he cracks a joke and he makes sure to never look away from her for longer than two seconds when she speaks or a producer behind the camera makes a comment.

She loves Fenrys but it’s exhausting. Her only blessing is that for most of her engagements she’s with Fenrys and Manon with Rowan conducting his own interviews separately as she had hoped.

Sometimes though, given their relatively similar ages and general level of chemistry, they get grouped together.

The four of them are filming a video for Buzzfeed, filling in a quiz to find out which character from The Crescent City they’re most like. She’s unsurprised to discover her result is Rhysand and it’s fun even if her heart does pound every time she has to act like she’s unfazed and friendly with Rowan.

There’s a moment, just a moment, where she almost breaks from her friendly and unbothered interview persona. It’s her turn to read the question, what item could you not survive without on a desert island?

It’s Rowan that speaks. “Her shampoo,” he says, “it’s jasmine.”

There’s a split second where she doesn’t speak, where all she can do is stare at Rowan, stunned that he remembered and thought to mention it now.

In that split second she’s transported back to memories of them together in the shower at her rented apartment, kissing lazily under the spray after spending hours between her sheets. She remembers dumping the shampoo into her hand and then onto his head, massaging his thick locks and surrounding them in the scent of jasmine.

She remembers how he kissed her neck as she did, trailing his hands over her silky curves, slick with the soap, with his kisses building in heat until her hands dropped to his shoulders. He’d lavished kisses down her chest until he’d jerked back, shampoo in his eyes and she’d laughed until he was safe and pressed his lips again to hers, continuing where he’d left off.

She’s shocked he’d bring this up when there’s a camera on the two of them and she can only imagine the comments it will spark. She’s not sure she cares if it keeps Rowan’s eyes on her.

“It’s luxurious for a reason,” she says when she recovers, tossing her thick locks over her shoulder. “Well worth it.”

She doesn’t miss the flicker in his own mask at her comment.

That kind of interaction will no doubt ignite the sparks she’d only ever wanted to avoid.

As the press cycle goes on and on, and they get closer and closer to the premiere it only becomes harder for her conviction to hold.

She tests her own argument, the clear line she drew in the sand, when she manages to keep it professional with Rowan and she’s not sure where that leaves her. She had thought they would overshadow everything about the project and now she’s not sure.

She said nothing had changed and he had challenged her.

She’s still not sure who’s in the right.

Everything is simultaneously completely new and exactly the same. Rowan is still gorgeous, still charming in his own reserved way, still almost reverent when he talks about his craft throughout interviews. He still talks with his hands and Aelin still can’t draw her eyes away from their motions, she still craves the touch of them on her skin. He’s still seven years older than her and the director of her big break.

Yet there are differences.

They’re still often on the same page, offering similar answers and backing each other up but now he never backs down from a challenge. Now he doesn’t hold back those comments she knows he was always dying to let slip. She should be annoyed, everytime he drops a line that pushes her to expand a little part of her wants to roll her eyes.

She doesn’t though. Her blood heats and her skin prickles. She loves this with him. Loves the dance they play, the teasing, verbal games that shouldn’t start her off but do. She loves the smirk he wears when they end up down that path, and she knows she wears it’s mirror image.

She always ends up squirming in her seat and it should be wrong but it isn’t. The cameras can’t see below their chests and the flush in her cheeks could easily be from the warmth of the day.

She’s beginning to wonder if she’s powerless against Rowan Whitethorn. If she’s powerless against the green of his eyes or the curl of his accent. The slant of his brows or the points of his teeth when he smiles.

She doesn’t know that it’s just one thing. It’s all of the things, it’s all of him, and more so than ever she’s completely fucked.

But they aren’t talking outside of the interviews and photoshoots, and the knowledge of which hotel room is his itches her toes every night. It would be so easy to sneak down the hall, to knock on the door and slot her lips to his when he opened.

It’s only a couple of nights before the premiere when the temptation becomes too much. She’s been around Rowan all day, surrounded by the smell of his aftershave, the notes of pine and freshness and Rowan and it’s too much. She strides down the hallway, resolved in her decision and closes her fingers over the button for the lift.

She needs to be elsewhere or she’ll make some bad decisions.

She’s come so far, survived months without him, she can’t cave due to proximity.

The hotel bar is deserted when she walks in and makes a beeline to the bartender. Yeah, maybe after her wobble at the wrap party a bar isn’t the best decision she could make but her options are limited. Trying to sleep with Rowan is, after all, probably the worst of both options.

“Just a sparkling water please,” she says to the barman who nods and returns a moment later.

“Put it on my tab.” A voice from the end of the bar.

A laugh bubbles out of her chest as she closes her fingers around her glass. Of course he’s here. She should have spotted Rowan the minute she walked in and it’s cruel that the reason she didn’t was that her thoughts were too wrapped up in him.

“Be careful what you sign up for,” she says as she walks over, her steps measured as she comes to a stop before him. Her hips swing of their own accord and his eyes dart up and down the length of her. “I can put a number of these away.”

The smile he gives her is surprisingly unguarded. It seems he’s done holding himself back too. Aelin loves it.

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, nodding at the stool next to him. She obliges as he speaks again. “It’s hard to switch off sometimes.”

He’s always on the same page as she is. Aelin shrugs, taking a sip of the drink he bought her.

They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure of how to break the silence between them when one of the last things they knew was the taste of each other’s lips.

“I keep thinking I’ll get used to it, that one day this will just be my job, but I never do,” Aelin says eventually, tracing a fingertip through the condensation gathered on her glass.

Rowan nods, smiling softly down at the bar and taking a sip of his own drink. An orange juice as usual.

“It’s hard to sleep at the end of days like today,” he says. “It’s why I’m in here.”

The bar is dark at the late hour, and quiet with no one else in there but them and the bartender. There’s something about the late hour, the darkness and the stillness surrounding them a break from the recent rush, that feels a little bit too close. She feels a little too exposed under the weight of his gaze but she rolls her shoulders back and leans an elbow on the bar as she turns towards him.

“I thought you’d be used to all of this by now,” she says and he cocks his head.

“Why?” His question is coy, begging her to expand.

“This is not your first rodeo and all of that,” she says with a smile.

Rowan laughs softly, the sound curving around her like an embrace.

“It can still be overwhelming after your first big movie,” he says gently, but with an edge to his voice that she needs to immediately get rid of.

“I don’t doubt that,” is what she whispers and his brow seems to soften, sensing her lack of malice.

She hates the way they’re in the position where he assumes the worst of her. She has to make that change.

“I don’t think if I get to do this for the rest of my life that it would ever feel normal.”

“No,” Rowan agrees, “I don’t think it could.”

“So then we need this film to do well.” Aelin shifts on the stool, finding herself leaning closer to him without conscious thought. He doesn’t retreat. He stands his ground until they’re only inches apart. “Lest we find ourselves fading into obscurity.”

“I doubt you ever could,” he says with a laugh and it’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

As he looks at her, his expression soft in the dim light, his smile holds something special for her and her chest lifts that she managed it. That he was willing to give that to her.

“My agent sent over the initial critic reviews earlier,” he says and her stomach plummets.

“And?” she demands, her voice wobbling slightly. Her confidence from a minute ago vanished.

This is the moment where she could sink, the moment this could all be over.

“And they’re good,” he almost whispers.

“Good,” she repeats and it’s not a question but he nods.

She wants to throw herself at him at the news, a couple of months ago she wouldn’t have even hesitated, but now she sits clenching her fists and trying not to smile too wide. It feels like a waste. She’ll never get this feeling again.

She turns to him and he’s smiling so she does what she’s wanted to for months. Aelin leans forwards and wraps an arm over his shoulders, pressing her chest to his.

His arms slip up slowly over her shoulders at first, unsure but gaining confidence as he tightens his grip around her, drawing her further into his chest. Aelin laughs a little, throwing her other arm around him and resting her face against his shoulder.

It’s not enough, it never could be with him, but it will do. She’s just happy he didn’t push her away.

Eventually, after a length of time that feels far too short, she pulls back to see him gazing down at her with an expression she can’t name. His brows are drawn in with his lips gently parted. He’s happy but apprehensive, open but distant. Aelin will take what she can and the distance between them has always been too far.

She wants nothing more than to close it, to draw herself into him and he into her, but she can’t. They’re here for one thing and one thing only and she refuses after what they’ve been through to mess it up again.

She knows he can read her own expression but she doesn’t care. She’ll hide from everyone and anyone but she’s realising she could never hide from him.

She wants Rowan, will probably want him for the rest of her life, but she made the call and he’s wrong, things haven’t changed.

Apart from all of the things that have.

The day of the premiere Aelin feels sick.

Her stomach twists and she tosses and turns all night and the dark circles under her eyes are brutal as a result. Her make-up artist tuts but diligently packs concealer on until Aelin looks well rested. Or as close as she can.

She’s trying not to think of the stretch of carpet she’ll have to walk tonight, a smile plastered across her face as she poses for the hundreds of cameras. Their premiere is one of the biggest of the season and, along with Fenrys, she’s the star.

She’ll have nowhere to hide.

Aelin sits in front of her mirror, her hair and make-up are done but she’s yet to get dressed. She takes herself in, making sure to note every strand of hair to every line of her lips, feeling as though she needs to remember this moment. The moment before it all explodes.

They’ve been building to this for almost a year now and this is as close to a culmination as she’ll get.

Her dress is something fierce. Endless, flowing velvet in the darkest shade of black. Long sleeves and a fitted bodice with an almost indecent dip in the back. The dress would be modest without that cut out, she can’t wear any underwear it dips so low.

It would be a simple dress, some might even dare to say boring, if it weren’t for the back. The majority of the fabric that remains is covered in gold embroidery taking the form of a dragon, coiled to strike. Aelin adored the dress the moment her stylist revealed it to her. She didn’t consider any of the other dresses, didn’t even acknowledge them as options.

The dress is what she needs, something strong, something to help her hold her head up high. She can walk the red carpet and stare down every single person who doubted her and know that they were wrong.

Aelin doesn’t need their approval. She doesn’t need the reassurance of faceless commenters, she doesn’t need the support of the magazines and the newspapers. She doesn’t need her mother’s approval. On anything.

Aelin is confident and self-assured and she can walk the red carpet knowing that.

Her sessions with Maeve have helped to reassure her stance, but she’s realising day by day she’s known it all along. It’s just taken a little bit of digging to uncover it.

She slips into her dress and it slides on like a second skin. She takes in her appearance, the arch of her brow and the red smirk of her lips makes her look intriguing, like a confident young woman.

Aelin was born to be an actress but she’s proud to say the sight in the mirror is real.

She poses for a few photos before she’s led out of her room and into the car, waiting to take her to the theatre.

She spends the ride in silence, barely listening to the jabbering of the aide in the car with her, and she focuses her thoughts on the calm before the storm. She takes deep breaths and centres herself the way Maeve has taught, she knows this could so easily be overwhelming but she’s determined to enjoy it.

The car stills and she can hear the noise of the crowd outside. She takes a final deep breath and allows her lips to spread into a smile. This one is genuine, nothing forced about it, and she pauses for one last beat.

This is big and Aelin is ready.

The car door opens and the sound hits her like a wave, slamming down onto her and it's so loud she can hardly think.

This is it. This is the moment she has dreamed of.

The nights where this image was all she could cling to to make it through could never have compared to how it feels standing here now, screams of her own name wrapping around her and urging her on.

Her steps are slow and purposeful as she glides down the path forged for her, the red carpet beneath her stilettos is plush and bright. She pauses where she’s instructed, rolling her shoulders back and smirking at the cameras with a hand on her hip.

She knows she looks incredible and the shouts of the photographers do nothing to change her mind. They are here for her, they’re all here for what she has accomplished, along with Fenrys, Manon, Chaol and Rowan and everyone else involved.

There are so many forces upon her, the flashing of the lights, the screams and shouts calling her name or Fenrys’, the magnitude of what this is could knock down a lesser individual but all it does is raise Aelin up.

She’s been through worse than this and survived, she’ll stare down the lense of all of these cameras, of everyone who has ever spoken her name and she won’t cower, she won’t just survive. She’ll thrive.

A warm hand lands on her waist and somehow the flashes of the cameras explode.

“Hey, golden girl.” Fenrys’ words are almost hard to hear even though his lips brush her ear. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Aelin wraps her arm around his back and grins, “I thought I’d at least show my face.”

He returns her smile and together they pose for the cameras, their shoulders back and smiles confident. She’s not sure this could be better.

Until she turns slightly to her left and gets flashes of silver where she and Fenrys are gold.

Rowan and Manon, posing for their own pictures mere metres away. He looks spectacular, the deep black of his tuxedo doing nothing but bringing out the depth of his tan and the shine of his silver hair.

He’s smiling his public smile and it’s gorgeous even though it’s not her favourite of his smiles, she loves the private ones he used to save just for her, and her own smile falters at the sight.

She’s here with Fenrys and it’s not wrong but it doesn’t feel right. The arm around her waist shouldn’t belong to Fenrys.

She should be where Manon is, smiling up at Rowan while they marvel at what they’ve accomplished. She knows her smile has dropped and she fumbles for anything to plaster onto her expression other than the longing she feels for Rowan.

As if she’d called his name he turns to her, green colliding with blue, and she knows he feels the same.

And that hurts far more than all of the months they spent apart.

All the months she spent hurting, trying to deny what she always knew, trying to pretend that they were anything other than a force of nature. They had been an eclipse, threatening to over take all of this but she was wrong. Rowan was wrong too.

It doesn’t matter whether everything or nothing has changed because she wasn’t right in the first place.

She should have known better than to think that whatever flimsy decision she made could halt what they were, what they should be.

She can only hope he forgives her. She can only hope he feels the same.

But the thing about this new Rowan is that she can’t read him the way she used to read her Rowan, she can’t tell if the way he steels himself and turns away from her is a dismissal or if the look they shared had been just as painful for him as it had been for her.

“A masterpiece.” - Rifthold Reporter

“Fenrys Moonbeam shines alongside Aelin Ashryver in The Crescent City. See our full review here.” - Wyrd Stone

“Latest Rowan Whitethorn flick smashes Box Office records.” - Valg Weekly

“Unapologetic, daring and thought provoking. Award nominations expected to follow for The Crescent City.” - Terrasen Tribune

Her phone has not stopped buzzing for the past four days.

Dorian texts every waking hour with the updates he gets, the numbers coming in and all her latest offers. It’s surreal. She knew they were good but she’s not sure she ever really expected this. Aedion texts her a picture every time he sees or hears her name, it should be terrifying the frequency with which he texts her but she has to fight back her smile each time he does.

She managed to find an hour the night before to call Lysandra and the majority of their call had consisted of Aelin repeatedly asking what the fuck was happening while Lysandra cackled down the phone.

She’d even got a text from Lorcan. It was alright, he’d written. Followed by, I hope I die before ever having to watch you make out with someone like that again.

She’d sent three middle finger emojis and a kissy face in response.

Now is probably not the best time to move to a different country but she’d signed her name on the papers two days before the premiere and Rifthold is calling, irrespective of the fact she’s only been back in Orynth for two days.

Most of her stuff headed out yesterday with the moving company leaving Aelin with two suitcases to fly back to Rifthold with tomorrow.

There’s one last place she needs to go before she heads back to finally get a good night's sleep before her flight tomorrow. She’s never set foot in this graveyard before, she’s never had the courage to dare before, but she’s emboldened. By the success of the movie, by her progress in the past year, by her sessions with Maeve. This has felt like a natural step.

The shining, black headstone is understated and classy and completely to his taste.

Sam Cortland. Beloved son and brother, taken far too soon.

Aelin waits with her head bowed, allowing all of her emotions to rush through her veins. She doesn’t fight them, it would be pointless to try, and she embraces the tears that gather. Eventually she steps forwards, placing the smooth, small stone on the crest of the headstone.

She rests her hand on the cool stone for a moment before sinking down and crossing her legs beneath her as she leans against it.

“I’ve missed you,” she says aloud, “I can almost hear you telling me to stop being such a sappy shit. I can’t help it, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

She pauses, letting the wind drift through the field sweeping her words away.

There’s no one else here but her and Sam, no one else she’d want to hear her confession.

“I wonder what you would have made of all this. I think you’d tell me to enjoy it all, to not miss a moment, and I’m not. I’m just choosing the ones I want to savour. And this is one of them, Sam. I wish you’d been there with me, you would have loved it, the cameras, the lights, everything.

“I have to keep pinching myself to know it’s real, I did it, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and see you.”

She sighs, letting her head tip back to rest against the stone. She didn’t prepare anything to say, didn’t realise she’d even want to speak to the open air but here she is.

“I’m not the same Aelin as the girl you knew anymore,” she says after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think I would have the capacity to love again after you but I did, and I feel terribly guilty that I do. I have to remind myself that this is what you would have wanted, you would have wanted me to be happy.”

The silence in the field is more than an answer enough. So typically Sam to give her an answer without so much as speaking a word.

“I was happy,” she says, trailing a fingertip along the words etched into the stone. “I will be again.”

A faint haze of sunlight drifts through the Orynth autumn clouds, a whisper compared to the chorus of brightness she misses in Rifthold, and she stands, brushing off the dirt from her jeans. She touches the stone one last time before turning and heading out of the graveyard.

Her visit was years overdue but her chest didn’t crack open the way she had expected, the tears hadn’t been relentless the way she had expected. She’ll visit him again the next time she’s back in Orynth, probably visiting Elide and Lorcan for Yulemass, and she’ll visit again and again for as long as she lives.

But for now, she has a plane to catch.

Months later and two days before the Oscars, when they’re all back in town for the ceremony held in her new home city of Rifthold, Fenrys throws another party.

She’s managed, this time, to stay in touch with Fenrys and Manon, having made up with the younger girl before the press cycle had finished. Aelin knows her upset was real but partly suspects the animosity was a front. She even finds herself participating in the group chat with the three of them and Rowan. She’s only texted him one to one once to wish him a happy birthday and they had caught up briefly but not texted since.

She’s missed him in a different way to the last time she missed him. This time missing him doesn’t feel necessary, it feels wrong not to text him, wrong to be away from him and she’s itching to see him again.

It’s no one's birthday this time but they’re all together again to celebrate, no matter the results they’ll see in two days. Aelin is very carefully measuring her excitement about her own nomination for best actress. Fenrys is up for best actor, Rowan best director and the movie best picture.

She’d almost dropped her phone in the toilet when she found out from Dorian a few weeks ago.

The party is small but still in full swing by the time she arrives. Big names from the industry, all in town for the ceremony, are scattered all around Fenrys’ Rifthold apartment. He’d bought a place here not long after Aelin and she’s secretly relieved she’s not the only one so moved by their experience.

She waves to a few people she knows and tries to stay calm when she spots Sartaq Khagan in the corner chatting away to a small group of people. Holy shit Fenrys has some famous friends.

Aelin finds herself a glass, tops her orange juice off with a splash of lemonade and begins her rounds. So many more people want to talk to her after the movie dropped.

Her mother had been one of them, and Aelin’s thumb had hovered over the accept button for a moment before decidedly pressing decline. She had blocked her mother’s number a moment later, and then she had made some calls closing the bank account her mother kept topped up and arranging for every penny she’d ever received from Evalin Ashryver to be paid back.

It had hurt, emotionally and financially, especially in the month she’d moved to Rifthold, but it had been worth it. To never let Evalin pass any judgement over her life again was a relief worth any cost. Aelin’s hoping there’s a possibility she could end up with a reward.

She doesn’t know how long she spends talking to big name after big name and it’s a realisation that drops onto her that she fits in here. Aelin Ashryver is a big name. No matter the outcome of the ceremony she has prospects, already a number of projects lined up and she’s loving every minute of it.

She drains her cup for the third time tonight and heads back into the kitchen. She’s barely seen Fenrys all night, and she doesn’t even know if Manon is here.

She frowns into the fridge, there was definitely a full bottle of orange juice in here the last time she topped herself up. She shuts the fridge and spins around.

“Looking for this?”

She should have known.

Rowan looks predictably gorgeous in the dim kitchen lighting. All tanned skin and silver smiles. He’s dressed in her favourite look of his too, worn denim jeans and a soft cotton shirt.

It’s the softness in his gaze that really takes her though, it seems the animosity from the last time they saw each other has faded if not disappeared. Her chest squeezes at the thought. She has no idea what could have triggered it but she will take it.

“Nope,” she says, stepping over to where he stands with an arm braced against the counter at his side, the other holding out a bottle of orange juice. “I was hoping Fenrys would have some chocolate in there but I guess this will have to do.”

She takes the bottle from him, her fingertips brushing his and she feels her cheeks heat at the innocent brush.

His smile is genuine and she knows what he’s remembering because she’s thinking of it too. The first time she visited his house during filming and their moment in the kitchen. They’ve been through cycles, she supposes, but hopefully now for the better.

“I’m sure we can find you some somewhere in here,” he says as she fills her cup, pulling open the cupboard next to his head.

Aelin smirks. “I’m going to leave the rummaging through Fenrys’ cupboards to you. You could find anything in there.”

Rowan winces, closing the door before returning her smile. This is friendly and the hope that’s been planted in her chest begins to sprout.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “We wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Aelin pauses for a moment, taking in the glory of him in front of her. He’s still Rowan, he’s still tall and deliciously broad. His silver hair is slightly more grown out and there are a couple more lines around his eyes but she doesn’t care, in fact it’s charming. He’s still and always will be stunning. She takes a sip of her drink before she takes one of her biggest risks so far.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, not daring to look away from his face.

He bites his lip, his tongue darting out to soothe the skin before he speaks. “I’ve missed you too.”

The smile that spreads across her face is all too telling but he’s smiling too so she doesn’t think it matters. He definitely feels the same and she’d be annoyed at the months she spent worrying but the relief is too sweet.

“Good,” is what she says, far too happy they’re here to bother with pretending she’s anything other than ecstatic. “Congrats on your nomination.”

His eyes dart to the floor and then back up at her, he’s too modest about his own skill and Aelin adores it. “Thank you,” he says softly, “you too.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.”

“Me neither,” Rowan says.

He’s close to her now, closer than he has been to her for months and her skin cries out for contact. She almost can’t believe she’s here now, talking to Rowan without any animosity, days before the Oscars that she’s nominated in.

The smile that takes over her face is completely of its own accord. She’s floating and it seems Rowan is too if the beat they share, exchanging incredulous smiles, is anything to go by.

“It’s crazy, right?”

She’s been asking herself the question for so long it seems only natural it slips out to him.

He laughs softly, and the rough sound curls straight to her core.

“Definitely,” he agrees, his voice low. “I don’t think last time felt like this.”

Aelin slaps a gentle hand to his chest and ignores the thrill that shoots through her at the eventual contact. “I get it, this is not your first nomination.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and she didn’t know how much she missed this, playing with him. She adores his reaction every time, the begrudging amusement he only lets shine through to make her smile.

“Some of us have never been nominated before, this is all completely new.” Aelin takes a sip of her drink. “I had to give up my social media accounts to Elide, it got so crazy.”

Something flickers over Rowan’s face at her comment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes darting across his face trying to decipher the expression. “She’s always had access and I still do so I can post if I want to but it just became a lot. It stopped being fun when I would see what people were saying, whether it was good or bad I don’t want to see it anymore.”

Rowan nods before his eyes lock onto hers, the intensity in his expression shreds her control.

“And you said nothing had changed?”

Aelin gets it now.

She shifts her weight, leaning as close to him as she can without sliding herself completely into the circle of his arms. “I was wrong. Lots of things have changed,” she says, her voice quiet but strong. “And lots of things are now right that weren’t before.”

She doesn’t mean to skirt around the truth, hiding in veiled words and double meanings, but as always, Rowan sees her. He sees her meaning and he smiles. It’s the most beautiful smile Aelin has ever seen him wear.

“I’ve been looking for you two.”

Fenrys bursts into the kitchen, startling Aelin back from Rowan. She hides her guilty smile in her drink and notices Rowan doing the same. Fenrys just grins, clearly enjoying whatever he thinks he’s seeing.

“You’re missing out, we’re playing kings in the living room if you want to join?”

Rowan glances at her before he turns back to Fenrys. “I think we’re good, thanks.”

Fenrys’ smile turns smug and Aelin resists the temptation to flip him off. She’s in too good of a mood to be annoyed at him.

“Okay, see you later, lovebirds,” Fenrys says, already on his way back out of the door.

Aelin pretends she isn’t blushing as she turns back to Rowan, his green eyes shining.

“This might sound crazy,” he says with an alluring tilt to his lips, “but do you want to get out of here?”

She’s reached a point she truly never thought she would.

She’s an Oscar-nominated lead actress in a box-office-record-breaking movie.

She’s happy, healthy and out from underneath the thumb of Evalin Ashryver.

The part that’s most uplifting, the part that has her unable to wipe the smile off her face as she strolls down the streets of Rifthold, is the arm she has tucked through Rowan’s.

They’ve been walking for a little while, enjoying the cool night air and the ease with which they managed to sneak out of Fenrys’ party. Her heels are killing her and Rowan very graciously offers her an arm to lean on and each time she takes a step in time with him she smiles.

“I never thought I’d like doing television,” he says.

She didn’t know he’d taken on a miniseries, similar to the one she’d done after filming, but she’s loving the recap she’s getting of the months they’ve been apart. The chill of the air is more than fought off by the warmth of Rowan by her side. The streets are mercifully empty and she can bask in the knowledge that it’s just the two of them out here, that they’re insignificant, that anyone who sees them will immediately dismiss them.

“I always thought I’d stick to movies, singular stories but I enjoyed it. I guess change can be good.”

Aelin laughs softly and squeezes his arm. He looks down to her, a question written in the slant of his brow.

“Change can definitely be good,” she says as she takes in the sights of the skyscrapers surrounding them. “I would know that I suppose.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bought a flat recently.”

“You did?”

He’s so graciously giving her the floor to say what she needs to say and she holds his arm even tighter.

“It’s right here in Rifthold.” Aelin avoids his gaze, lest he think it’s a speedy invitation and that that’s all this is. “I bought it just after we were back here for press, I realised that I adore Rifthold and being here. I missed it when I wasn’t here and I don’t feel there’s anything holding me in Orynth anymore.”

Rowan laughs softly, his feet scuffing the floor.

“What?” she demands.

“I swear I’m not following you,” he says and she feels a smile creep onto her face. “I bought a loft here too.”

Aelin gasps. “But your house was gorgeous!”

Rowan’s smile twists as he looks away from her. “I didn’t say I sold the house.”

Aelin cackles as she squeezes his arm, the sound joyous and bright as it echoes around them. “I knew being Mr Big-Name-Director has its perks.”

“It does,” he agrees with a smirk.

Aelin wants to kiss that smirk. Wants to pull him down and twist her fingers through his hair as his own tangle along her skin.

Instead she says, “I copied you somewhat too.”

He only raises a brow.

“I bought a piano like the one in your house. It was too big for my old flat in Orynth and so I knew what I had to do.”

“That’s good,” he says as his arm drops out of hers. She almost pouts until he instead tangles their fingers together. Her smile says it all, reflected back in his own. “You play beautifully.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks are glowing. “You’ll have to come over and I’ll play for you sometime, neighbour.”

“I’d love to.”

Aelin slows, using the hand tangled with his to pull him to a stop too. Her free hand trails a gentle path up his chest before coming to rest at his collar, her fingertips tracing the golden skin peeking out from his shirt. His free hand finds her waist.

They’re close, closer than they have been in such a long time when he speaks.

“I don’t know what you think has or hasn’t changed.” His hand leaves hers to cup her cheek. “But I still feel the way I used to about you.”

Her heart takes off, pounding within her chest.

“I do too, Rowan.” Some of the easiest words she’s ever said to him. There’s something about the way the streetlights shine through the silver tips of his hair and the way his calloused fingers feel between hers that she’s feeling brave. “I loved you then and I love you now.”

His eyes flicker across her face as his smile dawns, taking over his face as he smiles so brightly. This is all she’s ever wanted, to have a Rowan like this, with pure, unfiltered happiness in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You love me?”

“I do. To whatever end.”

His lips are barely a whisper from hers and she only acknowledges the thought that they’re in public for long enough to realise she doesn’t care.

“And I love you.”

His words are simple, but sweet. They wash over her and settle into her skin as his lips land on hers. He kisses her with what she can only describe as love. His lips pour devotion onto her and his hands light a fire inside her as he tastes her tongue.

They kiss for longer than she can keep a track of, wrapped up together illuminated only by the street lighting. She’s missed this, missed him, and she can’t help but feel right when his hands are on her. She can’t help but feel right as she stretches onto her toes to throw herself into his kiss.

This was never wrong, this was one of the first things she knew was right.

She loves him and he loves her and nothing and nobody else matters.

She doesn’t win the Oscar, and neither does Rowan. Fenrys does and she screams herself hoarse cheering him on as he makes his way to the stage.

The moment that takes the cake is when The Crescent City takes best picture. She takes to the stage with some of her best friends to recognise what they achieved together and maybe she is a soppy shit but she definitely cries. Fenrys laughs at her and Manon grins but Rowan just throws his arm around her shoulders and it's worth it.

Afterwards, she logs into her Instagram account for the first time in a long time. She posts a picture of Rowan looking absolutely delicious with his tux unbuttoned and his bow tie hanging untied around his neck with a greasy burger in one hand and hers in his other.

Posting him is a statement but she doesn’t care. In fact, she wants the world to know. She wants the world to know that nobody does it like he does. Nobody does it like they do.

[dimorphodon-x]

I still haven't reblogged the previous one 'cuz I wanted to make a doodle first and there's already a new oc react ask game aaaa ;w;

This time how about dealer's choice for TerrorRain?

Terry is a con manufactured with a BM-21 Grad alt mode. His outlier ability is literally raining terror on enemies as he can just create more ammo in his guns out of nowhere. Also, he's agressive. As long as he fights emough it's ok but if the days are slow he has to somehow tire himself with workouts but that doesn't work for long. He becomes frustrated and picks up fights with whoever's at hand. Doesn't matter the topic, he will argue about anything just to provoke a fight. Fighting is all that matters for him and having his whole team wiped out during one of the battles is a good reason for him to keep fighting.

Eventually the war nears the end and the two sides have to cooperate. It sucks but as long as there's fighing Terry's fine. Even if one of his teammates is his arch enemy. But hey, that guy is too depresesed to be an actual threat so it's a free chew toy! Their relationship is... complicated but they do grow a bit close to each other. Enemies with benefits one could say. Benefits on both ends, he acc makes they guy want to stay alive.

But once there's peace and fighting becomes a bad thing playing with his chewtoy of a partner only every now and then is not enough and Terry starts being a menace to society. Causes problems on purpose, starts fights, gets in trouble, all that jazz. He doesn't even care about winning, someone just kick his ass pls so he can have an excuse to rest.

Eventually turns out that it's a special programming that causes this. One that he was created with to make him a better fighter. And it worked perfectly making him happy when fighting and then praized for it but once that urge to fight makes him an outcast, once it becomes more of a tedious need to feed the monster within to get some rest, then he starts thinking if getting that invasive programming turned off is a necessity. But it's still a long way till he stops fearing it will change his personality. I mean... if he's not fighting anymore, then who will he be? He doesn't know any better. What if his personality changes completely after flipping that switch off?

Little does he know ('cuz he's an idiot) that there's much more to him than just his fighting skills. He cares about others even if they don't see it and he's capable of love and being gentle even if he doesn't see it. Certainly does have emotions but he has problems with recoginizing any other than anger and frustration. Not to mention comunicating them. He does want the world to become a better place because those he cares about want it. So he will try and find working coping mechanisms to not make it harder for them to stabilize and keep the peace.

Eventually something in his life happens that makes the decison about having that programming stopped easier. It feels weirdly freeing but he'd lie if said he's not feeling lost, even if he still feels like his bratty self. But what other way than go forward and see what life brings?

Bet if our blorbos met it'd be somewhere before the decison but feel free to choose uwu

Gonna go with Beatshock lmao

Beat is a much less impressive outlier, able to use sound as a weapon. Sure people can make weapons to do the same thing, but if it works it works, y’know? Terror’s ability to somehow create ammo is a pretty neat trick though.

He’s got a short temper so he’s quick to build up and release anger (usually in the form of a deafening boom from his shoulders), but he enjoys a good fist fight. It feels good, and he’d be more than happy to help Terror release some of that tension with a good ol punch to the face. All he needs to do it ask. Or punch him first, that works just as well. They could probably be fist fighting buddies or something like that. Beatshock at least wouldn’t plan on becoming friends, content on both knowing very little about TerrorRain and sharing almost nothing about himself.

While Beatshock doesn’t have the programming burden that Terror does, he will continue to get into fights for as long as he’s alive. As a bartender he can always say a drunk customer was starting to act up.

That aside, he’d give his condolences once Terror were to learn of the programming. Sounds like it kinda sucks, but to him it’s an “oh well” kind of situation. Nothing all that serious and he can’t really help in any emotional or physical way. Aside from another fistfight. Also Terror’s relationship with his partner/chewtoy kind of rubs him the wrong way, but again he just kinda shrugs and keeps his nose out of their business. He’s not much better as a person, who is he to judge?

Beatshock doesn’t have the same ‘goodie’ dreams and wants as Terror, but he’d still casually support him on his journey to better himself and all that.

It’s not a strong friendly relationship, at least in Beat’s perspective, but he thinks TerrorRain is cool enough to deserve a free drink.

[1iliketrains1]

Intro & Info.

choo choo welcome to hell FUCKERS.

hi, no idea why you're here but you can call me trains. people follow me because they think im funny or something. i prefer they/them pronouns but feel free to use she/her.

rest of my stuff is down below.

table of contents

stuff you can find here

my tags

byf & dni

etc.

stuff you can find here. . .

generic tumblr shitposts

fandom bull

instrospective stuff

helpful lists (for college, life, etc.)

things about neurodivergence

things about mental illness

basically whatever i want

my tags. . .

v rarely i post my own art, will see if i do enough to make an art tag. if so will add here.

if you're looking for specific content i usually reblog posts i deem significant as #masterlist or #masterpost. examples include a poem about sad cats and a record of the secret dashboards on tumblr.

posts i generally agree with or feel relation to are tagged with #thonkies. these are more lighthearted but can still get pretty deep.

i usually add the tag #trains.rbg or #trains.txt when i put in my own opinions on stuff

these are all tagged in this post for ease of access.

byf & dni. . .

i usually q.reblog so i don't add other tags to posts unless i have comments, if there's anything you feel i should tag feel free to send me an ask.

you don't need to know every single thing about me especially not what traumas i have or whatever, im literally just vibing so... also reminder you should block liberally instead of sending death threats to people please and thanks?

terfs fuck off, radfems fuck off. MAPs & pedos fuck off.

etc. . .

pirate from disney and other AAA companies that can't be bothered to actually pay their employees. go unions.

one of my alts is @trainsreblogblog, which is mostly full of art tips and pretty pictures. it's my reference blog which i use occasionally.

i have read homestuck. it was... homestuck.

i like a bunch of media, including but not limited to; outer wilds, hollow knight, yurucamp, bee and puppycat, bang dream (bandori), & splatoon.

in terms of music i listen to a bunch of stuff. rock & alt, jazz, lofi, etc. here are a bunch of artists i like:

SHISHAMO & Yorushika (J-Pop / Rock)

Penelope Scott & Soddiken (Alternative)

dodie, Phemiec, chloe moriondo, & Egg (Singer/Songwriter, maybe Pop?)

The Crane Wives & They Might Be Giants (Rock)

definitely not near all of them but i tried to keep it short. this post is wayyy too long alr.

remember to take care of yourself out there. much love to my friends @ the CBC + MNF <3

[babbushka]

Hi, it's okay if you don't want to answer, I just wanted to ask you because I find you incredibly successful ❤ First of all, your works had a great influence on my decision to write. I said to myself, "I want to express myself like her, I want to be able to reflect what's on my mind on paper like she does." You inspired me and I started writing, hoping that one day I would get to the point where I'm successful like you. I know it'll take time to establish my own way of writing and it'll improve as I write. But when I write, I always get stuck, I think I can't convey what is going on well and rush it. I guess I make no progress. I don't know what to do, if you have any advice I would be happy to hear it. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, love your work ❤

Hello my dear anon, oh this is so kind of you to say! I'm absolutely honored to have inspired you to start writing, and I'm happy to give any advice for how you can continue on with this craft, for whatever that may be worth to you :)

(putting it under a cut because it's long lol)

Firstly, I would like to say that the word 'success' means different things to different people. There's success of public reaction, how it's received and all that, but there's also success of internal goals. I personally try to concern myself more with my internal goals, and less about how other people view the writing in terms of likes/kudos/reblogs, whether that's fanfic or my screenplays. These sort of goals vary depending on the piece, but usually they boil down to trying to make someone feel a certain way, or trying to make a certain point in the story.

For example, if I'm writing something that's supposed to be a hurt-comfort piece, then to me, it is successful if at least one person is comforted while reading it. If I'm writing something that's a horror thriller, then it is a success if I'm able to make at least one person feel that sense of fear, or at the very least, dread. It doesn't really matter to me how many notes it gets, or how many people read it, as long as I was able to impact one person (and that usually is myself lol) then the piece was a success, and I move on to the next.

I think it's important that you contextualize how you see success for your writing. My best advice really and truly is to write the things that you want, and not what you think will be popular. Write the plots that interest you, try to convey the emotions that you want to feel, do what brings you happiness. When you put your heart into your work, people will see it and be drawn to it, trust me.

In regards to getting stuck, oh my gosh have I been there before! We all have, it's a part of the creative process where at some point, all of us run against a wall, and have to be faced with how we're going to move forward. Please don't be discouraged by this, it is a natural part of the process, I promise. I have been writing for over a decade, in one form or another, and I still have moments where I have no idea what I'm doing! But, over the years, I've sort of figured out some tips or rather, things that I do to make writing a little bit easier of a time:

Outline your story. I don't care if it's 1k, 10, 100k -- outline. I don't care if it's just a oneshot or if it's a professional novel, you outline. Outlines can seem boring and unnecessary, but they are your best friend in terms of what the hell is going on in this story. This is where you really figure out what the plot it, how things happen, what the points of action are, all that jazz. I have an outline template that I can give you to use, if you'd like it. Outlining is the structure, it's the skeleton of your story, and without it, there's nothing for the meat (dialogue, descriptions, actions, etc) to stick to.

Warm up before starting on your WIP. It can be as easy as writing a string of nonsense, keysmashing, typing up random dialogue that has nothing to do with anything -- just get your brain moving and those creative muscles flexing. Then when you're itching to just work on the real thing already, delete the nonsense, and get to it.

Have smaller WIPs to work on alongside the big one. This does not work for everyone, but for me, I find it really helpful to switch gears when I'm stuck on a particular piece of writing. It's nice to say "okay, i have no clue how i'm going forward with this one, let's work on this one for a bit instead," because what tends to happen is that by giving your brain a break, it's able to flow ideas more freely, and you'll be past that sticky point in no time.

In terms of trying to convey what's happening on the page, I really do think that asking yourself a million questions to give context -- or rather, having a friend ask you them -- is so helpful.

Let's say for example, you have:

He put the book down.

Well, alright, that's pretty straightforward, and it works, but, it doesn't paint much of a picture. We simply need more context:

How did he put the book down?

Where did he put the book down?

What did he feel when he put the book down?

Why did he put the book down?

What is the significance of the book?

What did he do after the book was no longer in his hands?

When you ask yourself these questions, you can take 'he put the book down' and turn it into:

Slamming the weathered diary onto his desk, he blinked back tears, the shock of its contents too overwhelming for him to handle. Alone in the room, his mind races-- never in a million years could he imagine that his own father had endured such sorrow. He paces, unable to simply stand with this knowledge weighing heavy on his chest, his deepest fears realized. He never should have read the diary, but now the damage was done, and the words could not be unread.

or,

With a trembling breath of reverence, he let the smooth pages of the book flutter to a close as he gently set it back on the shelf. This was it, this was the very tome he had been looking for! The very same one that had been treasured for years, heralded as impossible, a myth, a legend. A light fills him, one of eager anticipation, but also of clawing fear: he must protect this book and the knowledge it contains, this he knows, so that it can never fall into the wrong hands. Leaving the library, he amends to return that evening with a way to smuggle it out, but for now, he must plan how.

Two very different interpretations, two very different images! All from the way we answer the defining questions of context.

It takes time, and practice makes perfect. Writing is a skill just like any other, and the more you do it, the better you will become, I promise. No one wakes up one day out of nowhere and is perfect at being creative, often, the beauty is in the process of learning and developing your craft. I know it can feel frustrating, but the very fact that you know you are struggling means you are getting better, because you can recognize where you're having trouble and are trying to fix it. That is something to be proud of, and something that I know you can work through in time.

I hope that you were able to find this helpful, and I'm sending you all my love!

[serene-aesthetics]

Welcome to my tumblr :)

Hey dudes! The name's serene-aesthetics, and the game's moodboards. If you want more info, my pronouns are either she/her or ae/aer and you can just call me Serene if you want I guess.

My tumblr's named after my main account @wishingforserendipity so you can follow that if you want to, I don't actually post anything at all there, basically I just reblog on occasion and that's it.

Anyways, I should probably just get onto the important moodboard stuff.

Posting Things

Requests should be open and anonymous all the time unless I start to have issues, but legitimately don't expect to fill them in any sort of timely manner. I have pretty bad ADHD and a host of other shit going on right now, so requests are basically just what they should be: asking nicely and maybe I'll do the thing in the next two weeks. If you want to, feel free to DM me to check on how I'm doing and I'll be sure to give updates on when I'll be able to do your request since I do check my DMs.

On a related note, I won't be the super frequent poster that I know a lot of you guys are used to, and I hope you're okay with that. I might try to fill the space by reblogging from a few other moodboard/aesthetic accounts so you guys can follow those, so be on the lookout for that. I'll try to give updates on when I'm planning on being more or less active than usual, and I'll tag them with #info.

Tags

I'll try to just use simple and obvious tags for the most part starting out, like colors and themes and saying it's a moodboard and all that jazz.

If you want me to start tagging something, shoot me a DM (for urgent, trigger-type stuff) or an ask (for preferential-type stuff), and I will 100% add that tag to ongoing and past posts. I might have trouble remembering with the less urgent tags, so just comment that I forgot the tag to remind me.

Asks/Submissions/DMs

As I stated earlier, asks should be open and anonymous all the time unless I have a problem, which I probably won't have since I won't be too active. Use asks for things like moodboard requests, tag requests, or just general random questions for me.

Submissions should be open because well, I don't see why not. If you want me to post a moodboard made by you, I'd be very happy to do so! I don't care if you think it's bad, I know it'll be amazing <3

My DMs are and will continue to be open, and I think this is necessary because of my inactivity. It's a way for you to talk to me without requiring me to be active already, which I think is very useful. Due to this, please limit DMs to triggering tag requests, checking up (nicely!) on if I saw your moodboard request and how that's going, and other things you think are important for me to know. If I get spammed because you're impatient, I'll have to close my DMs, and I don't think anyone wants me to have to.

Image Sources

First off, I'm not going to cite where I got every image from in my moodboards, because I'm only going to do this casually and that would take forever and most people really don't care about citations.

However! If you drastically need an image you saw in one of my moodboards for a wallpaper or profile picture, have no fear. I will keep all of my images saved separately on my phone (most of the time the images in my moodboards will be slightly edited or cropped by me) and from there I'll be able to reverse image search any image you need. If you don't need the source, just ask for the picture and I'll send it your way right away!

Something I count as "important for me to know" that would consitute a DM is if there is a reason I shouldn't be using a picture, whether it's been stolen from an artist, the artist/photographer is a bad person, or something else, please do let me know and I'll take down the moodboard(s) that their pictures are in. If I really liked them, I might remake them with a different picture in the original's slot, and you can request taken down moodboards to be remade as well.

Miscellaneous Important Stuff

Currently, the application I use to edit my moodboards together is Picsart. If that changes, I'll change what it says here or at the very least I'll make another post tagged #info. If you're wondering about the fact that you can post your images onto Picsart, I don't actually do that anymore since I far and above prefer Tumblr to that.

The types of moodboards I'll post are limitless, given your suggestions towards what to make next. As of writing this post I'm leaning more towards the "character + aesthetic" genre of moodboards, but if you want something that's not in that I don't care! Broadening my horizons in photo editing is what this tumblr is for in the first place.

As of right now, I don't have anything more to say. So relax, sit back, and enjoy the vibe :)

[whelvenwings]

Do you have any advice for posting my first fic when I don't really have any sort of a following? I'm worried it won't really be seen.

hey, sunshine!! CONGRATULATIONS on writing your first fic :DDDDD

hmmm, the early days of posting fics can be a little dry for notes, it’s true. I think my first fic, when I posted it, got sort of 20 notes - it may be that you just have to accept that your first posts aren’t going to instantly get the level of recognition that you’re one day hoping for. I mean I was frankly overjoyed that 20 people liked my first fic... on my third fic, one of them sent me a MESSAGE. a M E S S A G E. but it’s not a bad thing to have sights set on bigger things! and it’s by no means an indicator of where you’ll end up, if you start small, I don’t think.

that said, I do have some pieces of advice!

posting on multiple platforms can help you find more readers! I usually post on both tumblr and AO3, as long as the fic is around 1k or more, but you don’t need to impose a word limit thing on yourself like that at all. if you put links to your tumblr in the author’s notes of the fic on AO3, and a link to the fic on AO3 at the start of the tumblr post, then people can choose where they prefer to read the fic - it’s just a nice way to let readers choose their best reading experience :D

on tumblr, and on AO3, tag, tag, tag. tag your work! for tumblr, use the destiel tag, maybe deancas, maybe destiel fic, or destiel fluff, or destiel angst, or whatever you think applies to your work. on AO3, tag the Castiel/Dean Winchester relationship, what kind of AU it is or if it’s canon, whose POV you’re writing from maybe, and any added details like Fluff, Friends to Lovers etc. This will be how readers find your writing, by scrolling through the tag and coming across it, before you have more of a following!

format your fic prettily! sounds basic, perhaps, but it’s worth it to make sure you have all your capital letters in the right places and speech marks sorted and all that jazz. these things are by no means prerequisites for your story itself being good, but they do make the reading experience easier and more enjoyable. it looks like you took time over your work and put effort into it, too, which makes reading it a more attractive prospect - as a reader, you feel more secure that the plot is going to be well-thought-out and stuff, too :D

consistent uploading is your friend in the early days, or at least it was for me. I’ve said this a few times before and I really stand by it! when I first started posting, I was writing 2k-3k fics and posting one every two days or so - not with the specific goal of building a following so much as just because I was HYPED FOR IT - but I think the regularity of the posts really helped to bring people to my blog and see something they wanted to follow, because it was consistent!

opening up prompts is a really good way to interact with the people who follow you, and make some friends and have fun :D people can send you prompts for you to fill, and then you write a ficlet for them. it’s so fun to do and feels like giving a gift, it’s great - and it’s a good creative challenge, too :D I’m planning to open up prompts again later in the year, maybe around October/November time. I miss doing shorter stories!

I know how comments and notes can seem like the be-all and end-all of the posting process, and whilst it’s true that those things feel awesome, imo it’s important to remember that they aren’t the only reason to post something you wrote. enjoy the sense of accomplishment that comes with having finished something!! enjoy the courage it takes to share a part of yourself, something as personal as creativity. enjoy being in love with the thing that you wrote, and then enjoy realising it could be so much better and feeling determined to make the next one right. if you can find a way to enjoy the whole process in a way that’s just for you, then the reblogs and the comments will still mean the world when they come - but it won’t put you off the whole thing when they don’t roll in right away. be brave!! write on.