#we're very proud of this one

[leiawritesstories]

SURPRISE SURPRISE!!!!!! IT’S HERE!!!! honestly i’m the most surprised we actually have something to post lmao @rowanaelinn and I are SO SO EXCITED to share this with all of you!!! without further ado........here you go :D 

Summary: She’s a professional figure skater headed for her second Olympics, aiming to make everyone forget what happened her first time, he’s a former pro skater coaching her through the competition. When the stress of the global competition, several familiar but unwelcome faces, and everything they’ve overcome in their pasts gets to both of them, will they work through it together? Or will it push them apart?

Word count: 2k

Warnings: language, injury, a certain redhead 

ENJOYYYYYYYYY!!

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

You are nothing. 

Jump, spin, land. That was all she had in mind. A buzzing sound took hostage of her ears, she didn’t know if she was even on rhythm for her program. She hoped she was. 

You are barely an acceptable skater. You’re only here thanks to your name. You are not allowed to be anything less than perfect. 

Those words, these hateful and venomous syllables was all she could hear. All she could remember. Her dance, the movement and stunts… She relied on muscle memories for them. Secretly hoping that some part of her brain she wasn’t aware of was listening to the music. 

She dared a single glance to the side of the ice skating rink, she wasn’t fazed by the thousand pairs of eyes on her, no, the only pair of eyes that bothered her, that made her swallow her throat were steely grey, and always angry

She wasn’t doing well. 

You’re no good without those pills. Take them or you lose me. 

And so, she took the pills. They made her sick, made her lose weight. Good. Now you can actually compete, actually look right for the cameras. But it was never enough for her coach, and soon, it became never enough for her either. 

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she didn’t want to fail. So, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius swallowed back these emotions too, and finished her first program of the day. 

Your jump is weak, Galathynius. Shabby. Sloppy landing. 

Shutting out every noise but her music, she launched herself into the air, locking her legs together, one ankle hooked beside the other, extending her arms over her head, and spun. Once. Twice. Three times. Uncrossing her legs in one elegant maneuver, she landed on the ice’s smooth surface, her free leg extended behind her at a perfect 120-degree angle. 

The audience and announcers exploded. 

Triple axel from Galathynius, and did you see that? 

Stunning–perfect–brilliant–so difficult with the arms over the head–look at the score!

She tuned out the voices again, focusing only on the music and the ice. None of that mattered if she didn’t finish her program strong. Gliding powerfully into the center of the rink, she pushed herself into a spin, leaning backwards to grab her extended leg by the blade of her skate, spinning and spinning as she pulled that leg straight up above her head. The faces of the crowds blurred past as she whirled, slowing her spin in time with the ebbing music, until she released her leg, slicing the toe pick into the ice behind her, and stood with her back arched, her head tilted backwards, arms extended to the sky, and bowed to the judges’ bench. 

You will make it at least past the first round or you are truly a failure.

A beat of roaring silence, and then applause crashed over Aelin like a tidal wave, the audience and even the judges clapping and cheering for her. Smiling, she skated off the ice, slipping on her skate guards and jacket embroidered with the Terrasen colors, and met Arobynn for the reveal of her score. 

“You were awful,” Arobynn said. 

What she always thought was awful about her coach was his voice. It wasn’t angry nor aggressive. No, it was just cold. As if throwing insults and degrading terms at her did nothing to him, spurred no emotions at all. As if every program she danced, every award she won, would never be enough to make him approve of her. 

She was only sixteen years old, she shouldn’t have be so scared that her coach, a former Olympic skater himself, would push her to compete harder and harder each month, each year, until she was here at the Olympics, one of the youngest skaters to qualify this year, and she was completely terrified that she was going to make a horrid mistake in her debut program and disgrace herself in the eyes of her coach–and the world–forever. 

79.25. 

The score flashed across the arena’s huge screen. 

79.25. 

Which put her in the lead.  

Aelin’s jaw dropped in shock as the crowd exploded into cheers again. 

“Seventy-nine point two-five from Aelin Galathynius!” crowed the announcer, his voice rolling over the applause. “Absolutely unheard-of from such a young skater! We look forward to her next round, oh yes we do!” 

Aelin beamed for the cameras, smiling and waving and, in a dramatic touch, throwing kisses into the crowd. She was still riding the high when she walked back into the hall to the locker rooms, Arobynn at her side, and her coach suddenly halted and pinched her arm. 

Hard. 

“You should have at least scored an 82,” he hissed, his mouth flattening into a thin, irritated line. “It’s because of your landing, Aelin. You can’t wobble on your fucking landing.” 

“I’m in first place!” she snapped back, pissed and emotional from her debut program and her staggeringly high score. “Can’t you see that for an achievement?” 

Arobynn pushed her against the wall, bringing his face into hers. “Don’t you dare talk back to me,” he snarled. 

Then he pulled away, looped his arm through hers, leaned in towards her–but not too close– acting for the cameras. Always acting for the godsdamned cameras lest the millions of people watching the Olympics get a glimpse of how sadistic Coach Arobynn Hamel, retired Olympian himself, really and truly was. 

You are nothing. 

You are weak. 

You will get nowhere without me. 

She heard his cold anger in her dreams, the harshness she could never escape even as she slumbered creeping into her mind, destroying her peace. 

Two weeks later, she stepped onto the ice for her pre-semifinals practice, shaking out her limbs, her fleece sweatshirt and fingerless gloves and legwarmers keeping her from freezing before she’d warmed up. Like a reprieve, Arobynn stayed silent for once, just folding his arms and watching her skate in broad loops around the rink, loosening her muscles and joints and warming herself up before she started her routine. She marked through some of her more difficult steps and combos, waiting until the pills she’d swallowed under her coach’s glaring eyes started to kick in, a tingle forming in her blood. 

When she felt that tingling, she nodded, her signal to Arobynn to start her music. 

And she launched into her routine, her skates carving fresh grooves into the pristine white ice as she jumped and spun and leapt across the rink. She breathed out deeply as she prepared for her triple axel, the jump was giving her hard times in practise, and launched herself into the air, spinning one two three times and coming back down, her leg wobbled and she had to drop her other leg instead of keeping it lifted so she didn’t fall over. 

Her music stopped. 

“Get up.” No emotion in Arobynn’s voice, only coldness. 

She stood still, waiting for his anger. 

“That was pathetic.” He glared at her. “Do it again, and try not to fail, Aelin. I don’t spend all my time here just to watch you disappoint me.” 

Biting back a rude retort, she lined herself up, exhaled, leapt into the jump again. This time, her jump was off, she only managed two and a half turns before landing, but her landing was solid. 

“Horrible!” her coach snapped. “Do it again.” 

And again. And again. 

Exhausted, but determined this time, Aelin pushed herself forwards and upwards, spinning three times in flawless form, and landed solidly on the ice, only wobbling a little bit as she stabilized herself. Although she was scared to look, she shot Arobynn a glance, waiting for his comment, feeling both fear and pride. 

His face was a mask of cold indifference. “You are not even trying, Aelin.” He sighed, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent. “Because I’m a generous coach, I will give you one more chance. Land the jump, and maybe you’ll manage to get a decent score. Don’t land it, don’t even bother dreaming about returning to the Olympics.” 

This time, it was anger that fueled Aelin as she skated across the rink, anger that narrowed her eyes as she lined up her jump. Angry at her coach for being an asshole led her up into the air, into one two three perfect rotations, down in a graceful arc to the slender blade of her skate meeting the ice. 

She never anticipated the bump in the otherwise flawless surface of the rink. 

One second, she was beautifully landing a triple axel, and the next, she was sprawled over the freezing cold surface, a distant scream echoing in her ears and a searing white-hot blaze of pain shooting up her left leg, snaking up her left arm. 

Distantly, she realized that the screaming was growing louder, closer to her. Until it clicked, and she realized that was her screaming, her voice, her pain. That the other yelling was her coach, crouched on the ice next to her, ranting and raving about how stupid she was, how she was a complete failure, never ever going to make it professionally, she should just give up, she was nothing, nothing, nothing–

Aelin jerked out of sleep drenched in sweat as frigid as the ice itself, panting, heaving for breath, her lightweight sleep shirt clinging to her back with cold sweat, gasping as she realized that it was a nightmare, only a nightmare. Not real. Not anymore. 

Arobynn hadn’t been in her life since the accident. That day, just before the paramedics arrived and carried her into the ambulance, he screamed his last insults at her and stormed out of the arena. That was the last time she saw his arrogant, cruel, cold face and she wished him good riddance, he could go die for all she cared. 

Until she saw the scans of her leg, until the doctors told her that she wouldn’t be able to skate for three months while her leg was in a brace, until the lack of his pills made her shake and shiver and break into cold sweat. Until she tumbled into crushing self-doubt and thought she would never skate professionally again as she worked through the long, painful process of recovery. 

Hyperextension. Not as terrible as it could have been. 

Nothing had torn, but the ligaments in her knee had stretched enough that her physical therapist didn’t want to risk her tearing anything as she recovered, so she was strictly forbidden from doing anything more than skating laps with a goddamn fucking trainer sled like she was five years old until she was cleared to actually skate again. She was young, she had the time to recover properly and still be able to skate, that’s what they all told her to keep her from overworking herself. 

Six months after the accident, she was back on the ice. Her parents stood at the side of the rink this time, her mother’s eyes sad but proud as she watched Aelin cautiously skate in slow circles around the rink in their hometown, gradually getting more confident the more time she spent on the ice. 

“Who is going to coach her?” Rhoe whispered to Evalin. 

“We’ll find someone,” Evalin whispered, never looking away from Aelin. “We know lots of coaches and retired professionals, we’ll be able to find someone.” 

“Aren’t they all taken?” 

She frowned. “Rhoe, darling, this is why we call in favours.” 

He nudged his wife affectionately. “I thought it was just Arobynn who owed you a favour, Ev.” 

“You thought wrong,” she teased. “There’s another skater I knew, he’s younger than us and he’s pretty recently retired from professional competition. I agreed to partner skate with him for an exhibition when he was debuting professionally and I was a couple years away from retiring.” 

Aelin’s father wrinkled his brows. “Do you mean…what’s-his-name, Ronan?” 

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Evalin confirmed. 

“He’s willing to coach?” Now Rhoe was surprised. “I thought he said he was done with skating after he retired. Because, well–you know.” 

Evalin sighed. “I think I can convince him just this once, just to help Aelin get back where she belongs. Back to the Olympics.” 

~~~

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[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[silverskye13]

Zoey, my very smart german shepherd walks into the room. She looks very proud of herself, side-eying me. She walks over to her crate where she sleeps at night. She belches very loudly. She looks at me again, with a big dog grin.

I ask, "Was your dinner good?"

She wags her tail and walks away.

[notsosecretlyalesbian]

Lisa Ann Walter as Melissa Schemmenti in Abbott Elementary| 02×20: Educator of the Year

[neolxzr]

and everybody is so trolled

(8 now)

[nero-neptune]

made up a group of edwardian-era hockey girls, Heavily inspired by the many wintery late 19th/early 20th century photos i processed in an archive over the summer. at some point, i decided their team would be called "the hail raisers".

[yanderespamton78]

ive already shown this to anyone who actually cares pretty much loll (anyone following the addison arg) but i might as well post it on here

this is actually the first proper animation ive done :'D like other than this ive animated a ball bouncing but that was more to test the software than anything,, lucky for me i consume animation memes more than i consume water so i know the basics B)

[hella1975]

there's a very specific kind of vibe that comes with living with your friends in final year that it just does not have in first year or even second year. like as a fresher it's usually the first time any of you have lived away from home let alone with SO MANY people your age and it's terrifying and exciting and randomised to boot so it's generally carnage for a whole year in the best and worst ways, and then second year you pick who you're living with and it feels like for the first time you're doing this adult thing PROPERLY. you have a place of your own now. these are the people you've chosen to live with. studying gets serious etc. but it's still fresh. it's still new. you still don't know how to navigate it. but final year? final year is when you actually get it right. you know how to manage your time better. you know what works for you and what doesn't. studying is the main focus and you've been out in the world for three years now and it's not loud and boisterous like it was in first year and you're not exciteable and awkward like you were in second year. you're comfortable. every single one of my flatmates has their own friend group and we mainly keep to our own social circles, but we'll still meet each other back at the house after a night out and sit in the kitchen or my room to do the debrief. sometimes i'll go days not seeing either of them despite sharing a house but every now and then someone will softly call up the stairs that 'the heating's on!' or one of us will sneeze and the other two will yell 'bless you!' through the walls. the lack of interaction isn't interpreted as dislike in ways it would have been even last year, because we're all just old enough to be past that now and settled enough in our friendship not to worry about it. idk. uni is very loud and unsettling a lot of the time so it's been really sweet to see how almost boringly comfortable final year is.

[emathevampire]

A Reconsecration in Blood and Twilight

Happy Pride to everyone, but especially to my beloved prince in horns Askalaphos and his blackguard, Solar, an NPC from our Ravenloft campaign.

Once a devout paladin of the Morning Lord, then of Mother Night after his death, corrupt rebirth, and subsequent fall from grace as he pursued power no matter the cost in the pursuit of vengeance against Strahd... the aasimar blackguard Solar now learns what it is to be true to his own heart as the newest disciple of Askalaphos, a fallen demigod son of Ares and former slave to the Abyss slowly regaining his own spark of divinity and sense of purpose as he seeks an escape from the mists of Ravenloft. None of this would have been possible, however, had their mutual annoyance friend Rixa not been dead-set on saving the both of them from themselves, despite their belief that this was a hopeless cause... or if they had not joined forces to save her in return when she was captured by her nemesis. A long and dangerous road still lies between them and victory over Strahd, the Dark Powers, and the corruption that stains their very souls, but walk it they shall... after all, nothing worth fighting for is ever easy.

[soulsmadworld]

for the wonderful @callmerose0 's "How to train your.... Avian?"

Quick NOTE!

as of yet, this has neither happened nor is it confirmed to happen

nor is this incentive or pressure for the author to make this happen

this is just my hyperactive imagination needing this vision to exist

if u love the ranchers and haven't read their fics yet

what are u doing

go read them

individual panels after cut

[kinaesthetiqueer]

nora muse: sooooo when's my next chapter

me: *avoiding eye contact*

[heroesofenvellfan]

Ace flag color-picked from Kira! This felt like too good of an opportunity - she's got the colors! And they go so well together! 😄😄

Feel free to use the last one as an icon, though credit is appreciated!

[arcaneyouth]

*disabled guy voice* why the fuck is this happening to me

[ffxvzinefest]

[lisbonsteresa]

they're so annoyinggg

[arolesbianism]

Man oni can't do this to me I'm supposed to be preparing for artfight but all I can think abt is Them™ from the second I wake up to the moment I go to bed how am I supposed to prepare in these circumstances 😔