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empire-of-wildfire · 1 year

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just a question (2)

Another scene/vignette to add. I have a feeling this one may just want to be written in this form, and I'm okay with it. My working title for this chapter was, "They're already an old married couple. They just don't know it yet."

JAQ Masterlist | Inbox | Fic Sideblog | AO3

CHAPTER TWO

“I hate my parents!” Aelin shouted into the apartment. The door was barely open. Her voice mostly traveled down the hall, informing their neighbors of her fury, but Aelin didn’t care. She was mad.

At her parents.

“Oh? What did Mom and Dad do this time?” Rowan didn’t miss a beat, hovering over the stove in his signature apartment look. A plain shirt made of white cotton and soft, heather gray pants.

Curry spice filled the air, and Aelin didn’t care that the apartment would smell like it for days to come. It was delicious. She planned to eat all of it and leave none for Rowan.

“My mother is back on her matchmaking bullshit!” Aelin chucked her purse onto the couch before ripping off her leather jacket. Snow slush went everywhere, raining down onto her feet much like it did outside.

Rowan would fuss at her later for the mess, but Aelin couldn't find it in her to care about maintaining the happy roommate vibes just now. She was angry. Maybe he’d let her pick a fight with him. It’d ruin what was left of their evening, but Aelin needed to do something to expel all this infernal anger.

“And my dad thinks it’s a brilliant idea.” Aelin hopped on one foot, yanking off a sock. She repeated the action for her other foot, and then abandoned them beside her damp boots. Another strike beside her name on the roommate behavior chart.

Aelin growled at the memory of her phone call with her father. “He totally backed her. Told me to give it a try.”

“Uh oh.” Rowan looked apologetic, but his attention was torn between her plight and the food cooking on the stove. “So, what was it? Another date with a wealthy entrepreneur?”

“Worse,” Aelin said, marching through the house. She yanked off her sweater on the way, giving Rowan a flash of the adorable pink bra she’d chosen to wear today. Aelin thought it would brighten what was promising to be a stressful day, considering her lunch date with her mother, but alas, the cute underwear hadn't mattered. And the day had been ruined.

Some might fluster at being caught half-naked by their roommate, especially their fully into the opposite-sex one. But it didn’t matter to Aelin. Rowan and Aelin weren’t shy about skin.

As roommates, they were often privy to things that roommates were privy to—either by accident or on purpose. Aelin couldn’t count the number of times Rowan had accidentally walked in on her half-naked, but likely, it was because after the second or third time, Rowan realized Aelin didn’t care, and Rowan didn’t care either. So, they… stopped caring.

She’d seen his dick. He’d seen her boobs. It was whatever.

“Oh?” Rowan called down the hall from the kitchen. The tone in his voice made Aelin smile, even though she was trying very hard to still be pissed off. Rowan was the biggest gossip Aelin had ever met, and Aelin was best friends with Lysandra. “Do tell!”

“One sec!”

Once changed into her own comfortable clothes, Aelin slumped into a barstool at the kitchen island. Aelin and Rowan could only afford this place because Aelin bought it with some of her inheritance from her distant, odd uncle. They split the costs of living there, but the mortgage was paid for, and Aelin wasn’t interested in profiting off of her friend.

Aelin pulled the blanket she’d brought with her tighter around her shoulders. “Sidebar: why the fuck do I live in this miserable Winter Wonderland?”

“Because you love this Winter Wonderland,” Rowan replied, cutting the heat to the food. He grabbed a bottle of wine and an empty glass, continuing, “And you have an unnaturally close bond to your parents. Who happen to also love it here.”

“No, I don’t.” Aelin watched Rowan pour a glass of wine. “I’m no longer speaking to my parents. Ever again. We should move somewhere warmer—like Doranelle. You have family there, right?”

“Also known as the reason I fled Doranelle and moved to Terrasen.” Rowan passed her a glass of wine, keeping a second for himself. “And you’d hate Doranelle. There are far too many sunny days and tranquil rivers. You might end up with a tan.”

“Sounds horrible. Let's go. I'd love to meet all these cousins I've heard of.” Aelin laughed at Rowan's grumpy face.

Greedily, she gulped at the dry red wine, and then she grimaced. Aelin hated Rowan’s fancy tastes in wine. She much preferred her wine as she did her chocolates. Tooth-rottingly sweet.

But she’s irritated enough that Aelin doesn’t complain. In fact, she slid the glass closer to Rowan, beckoning for him to pour her more. Rowan raised his eyebrows. He knew it was bad if she was asking for more of the wine she so loathed. He poured without comment, though, waiting to see what she had to say.

“An heir,” she said, circling back to their earlier conversation.

Rowan’s brow furrowed, but he slid the glass back without comment. She took another deep drink before explaining.

“Like—me.” Aelin motioned at herself with her glass, and the wine threatened to ruin her favorite sweatshirt. She didn’t fight him as Rowan retrieved the glass from her, placing it safely back on the counter. “But a boy.”

Rowan laughed, and the bright, bark of sound made Aelin grin.

“Quit laughing,” she complained. “We’re mad, remember?”

“Oh.” Rowan trained his face into the picture of neutrality. “Right. Gross. A boy.”

“Fuck you.” Aelin reached for him, wanting to hit him for making fun of her. “I’m going to steal your dinner and go find Lys.”

Rowan smartly kept his distance, knowing her penchant for violence. “Rude. You're rude.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. But her need for a rant outweighed Rowan’s teasing, so she continued, “Anyway, my mother invites me to lunch today at that swanky tea house she loves so much.”

Rowan snorted. He hated tea about as much as Aelin hated red wine. Add in the charade that was a bunch of idle, rich women getting together to gossip over tea, and Rowan really hated tea.

“She doesn’t even wait for the tea to get to us,” Aelin continued, her temper rising again, “when she looks at me and says, Oh, Fireheart.”

“That should’ve been your cue to run,” Rowan said, sipping his own wine. “The second your mother lays on the Fireheart act, you know she has plans.”

“Right!?” Aelin nearly knocked over her wine, and Rowan frowned, claiming the drink for himself. A glass of wine in both hands. Aelin needed to keep an eye on him, or her sounding-board would be wine drunk too soon.

She reached for the wine again. Rowan easily kept it from her. He was standing while she was sitting, and even if he weren’t doing so, Rowan’s long arms were an unfair advantage.

He frowned. “Ae, do you even know how much this stuff costs? You need to appreciate it.”

“It’s better that I don’t,” she responded. “Do we have any more beer?”

Rowan made a face, telling her silently what he thought of Aelin mixing wine and beer together. Then said, “You and I finished it off with Pizza Party 2.0, remember?”

“Oh.” Aelin sighed, disappointed. “Well, shit.”

Rowan laughed, finishing up Aelin’s glass of wine.

“Well?” he pressed, and Aelin remembered she was in the middle of a story.

“Oh, yeah.” Aelin leaned forward and rested her elbows on the counter. Rowan leaned in from where he stood, enraptured by her dramatics. “She’s like, Oh, Fireheart. I’ve arranged a dinner date for you tonight with a friend of mine.”

Rowan recoiled. “A friend of hers? This man isn’t, like, in his sixties is he?”

“Gods, could you imagine?” Aelin hissed. “No, he was my age. Give or take a year or two.”

“Was? Oh. Shit,” Rowan breathed, realization dawning. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Aelin confirmed. “As in, like, an hour ago.”

“Oh. Shit.” A smile played at Rowan’s lips. “You are pissed.”

“Fuck, yeah. I’m pissed.” Aelin reached for the wine bottle. “So, I need more wine.”

Rowan barked a laugh, but he kept the bottle out of reach. “Yeah, we’re not drinking wine I bought for a hundred bucks just to get drunk. I’m going to get us something else.”

“Hey!” Aelin blinked. Rowan's word registered, and she gasped. “A hundred dollars? That shit tastes awful, Rowan!”

But Rowan and his expensive wine were already gone.

I don't promise the update marathon will continue, but I'll do my best. No tags, sorry. But if you follow @thewraithsofmorhogg-fics, I reblog everything there.

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empire-of-wildfire · 1 year

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just a question (1)

The assumption that I know where this story is going would be incorrect. I wrote 99% of this last December, couldn't figure out what the story wanted, and then archived it to re-attempt Noisy Neighbors. I'm almost certain it's an angst gremlin, hiding among clever one-liners and sex talk, so... I'd consider yourself appropriately warned. That said, it's mature because Rowan and I give no fucks.

CHAPTER ONE

“But seriously, Lys,” Aelin continued, glancing briefly at her apartment door as it opened. She wasn't alarmed to see the frown playing at Rowan’s lips as he toed off his boots. Her roommate was the textbook definition of a grumpy disposition.

Aelin turned back to Lysandra. “I was totally at a loss. I mean, what do you do?”

“Hey!” Lysandra grinned at her roommate, and Aelin decided right then that her New Year’s Resolution was to make some new and better friends. “What perfect timing!”

Rowan didn’t react as he shrugged off his thick, woolen coat. He was the picture of stoicism. “It’s a bit early for the two of you to be conning me into making dinner, isn’t it?” he asked, and Aelin barked a laugh. He wasn’t wrong. Rowan’s pine green eyes sparkled. “It’s barely past lunchtime.”

“Maybe we need lunch.” Aelin flashed Rowan a smile.

Rowan looked unimpressed. “I passed Luca on the way in.”

“That could’ve been for anyone,” Aelin insisted, ignoring how Lysandra watched them with rapt attention. “We’re not Emrys’s only patrons, after all. The man’s gotta make a living somehow.”

“Oh, I’d say that he makes a pretty good living off of you alone.” Rowan shuffled towards the kitchen, eyeing the pizza boxes on the counter. “Add in this one”—Lysandra blinked, realizing he was talking about her—“and that man is going to retire early.”

“Mean,” Lysandra cried. “And true–but mean.”

“Gods.” Aelin nudged the pizza box in front of her across the counter towards Rowan. “I hope he never retires. I’ll starve.”

Rowan and Lysandra laughed. It was true. Aelin ate a lot of pizza. Too much pizza.

“So,” Rowan says, holding a slice of pizza just shy of his mouth, “what do I have perfect timing for? And should I take a walk around the block to get out of it?”

“Yes,” Aelin pleaded. “In fact, you should wait in your car until Lysandra leaves before coming back. I’ll text you when the coast is clear.”

“Hey!” Lysandra smacked Aelin’s arm.

“That bad, huh?” Rowan’s slice disappeared in record time. Emrys’s well-earned retirement was at least a little funded by Rowan’s black hole of a stomach. “What did you do?”

Aelin gasped in outrage.

“Rowan,” Lysandra purred.

Aelin took at least a little joy in the way Rowan’s guard rose, fear flickering in those green eyes of his. Rowan stood straighter, suspicious of the look on Lysandra’s face. As any sane man should.

“Lysandra,” he echoed, though his sounded more like a question.

“Theoretical question—”

“Oh, I can already see that this will end so well for me,” Rowan deadpanned.

Lysandra ignored him. “You’re in bed with someone, post-coitus—”

Rowan’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Post-coitus?”

“Post-coitus,” Lysandra confirmed, voice somber.

“Remember when the two of you hated each other’s guts?” Aelin interrupted, desperate to end this conversation before it began. She shoved her plate away from her, suddenly without an appetite. “Wasn’t that a nice time? What do you say we got back to that?”

Her friends ignored her.

“Go on,” Rowan prodded, obviously curious.

“For the first time,” Lysandra continued.

“Oh, awkward.” Rowan claimed the half-eaten slice of pizza on Aelin’s abandoned plate. She narrowed her gaze at him, but Aelin knew the glare was half-assed. She wasn’t mad at him, just embarrassed. This wasn’t a story Aelin wanted to tell Rowan.

“Not always!” Lysandra corrected.

Rowan shrugged, acquiescing. “Most of the time.”

“Fair.” Lysandra waved a hand.

“So, let me get this straight.” Rowan turned, retrieving a beer from the fridge and popped the cap off. “I just fucked this theoretical girl for the first time—”

“Fucked is maybe being a little generous,” Lysandra helpfully corrected, and Aelin was definitely getting new friends for Yulemas. Lysandra met her eye. “Pretty vanilla stuff. Right?”

“Lys.” Aelin’s cheeks burned with horror as Rowan’s focus shifted to Aelin, connecting the missing dots in the conversation. Aelin covered her face with her hands, said, “Right.”

“Okay.” Rowan sipped his beer, schooling his face. “I just had boring sex with this theoretical girl, for the very first time, and I get my rocks off.”

“Ugh! Rowan!” Aelin’s cheeks burned hotter. She wasn’t usually shy about this kind of thing, but something about this conversation had Aelin wanting to crawl under a rock and die a boring, miserable death.

“Sorry.” Rowan didn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying this. “I just had boring sex with this theoretical girl. For the first time. And I climax.”

Rowan flashed Aelin a wicked grin, knowing that his substitution would only somehow be worse. It was. "I did climax, right? Please, don't be a this never happens story. That's not where this is going, right?"

Lysandra helpfully turned to Aelin, waiting for her to answer. Aelin grimaced. "No, I mean— Yes, everyone... finished."

"Good," Lysandra chirped, turning to Rowan. "That's important. I forgot all about that."

Rowan nodded in agreement. “So. I, what?” Rowan took another swig of his drink. “Roll over and go to sleep?”

Aelin refused to confirm. She wanted out of this conversation.

Rowan shrugged, flipping open the pizza box and selecting another slice of pizza. “That’s not a crime. Sometimes, we just pass out afterwards. You lot do it, too. Post-sex naps are great.”

Aelin was inclined to agree and end the conversation there. However, Lysandra shot Aelin a look, and Rowan noticed.

“What?” he asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Um…” Aelin bit her lip, wanting to die. Somehow talking about Rowan’s theoretical sex life was worse than talking about her real sex life. “You roll over and make a phone call.”

“His mom?” Rowan asked, breaking the scenario, at last. “Cause that shit is weird. No one should be talking to their mother right after sex.” He shuddered at the thought. “Drop him.”

Lysandra’s green eyes sparkled. “Do you have a lot of experience with that, Rowan? Women calling their mother’s after sex with you?”

Rowan glowered, and even Aelin wanted to laugh, but she was too conflicted about what she needed to say. Her friends, however, were momentarily oblivious to her suffering.

“I slept with a girl for a bit,” Rowan said, thoughtful, “that had this awful habit of answering texts and calls during sex. She didn’t understand why I was offended that she kept taking calls from her mother while I was balls-deep inside of her.”

“No,” Lysandra breathed, enraptured. "That is weird."

"Right?" Rowan exclaimed.

“He called his other…” Aelin trailed off, taking a deep breath. Her friends turned to her expectantly, smiles playing at their lips. “Other girl.”

Aelin’s words killed their humor, smilings falling off of faces in an instant. Aelin hadn’t exactly shared that tidbit of information. Just that Chaol had made a phone call while they were still in bed. Barely moments after finishing.

Anger flared in Rowan’s gaze, his green eyes becoming shards of ice. “That motherfucker.”

“It’s not—” Aelin rushed to clarify. “We’re not, like, official. Or, whatever. It’s–casual.”

“Oh, honey.” Sympathy shined in Lysandra’s kind eyes. Aelin’s friend was clearly realizing her miscalculation, mistaking a tragic turn of events for a comical sex story. “Baby, no.”

“Ae,” Rowan scolded, and she bristled. She knew the tone wasn’t directed at her. Not really, but it still hurt. “Any asshole reaching for his phone while his dick is still wet, isn’t worth your time or attention. It doesn’t matter who he is talking to—casual or not.”

Aelin scrunched up her nose. Did he have to be so vulgar about it?

“And if he’s giving anyone attention that isn’t you, isn’t the woman in his bed, the woman that he just—” Rowan blew out a harsh breath, an obvious attempt to reign in his temper. “He can go fuck himself.”

Lysandra nodded. “Agreed. Sorry, Ae.”

“In his defense—”

“Aelin, I’m serious.” Rowan threatened her with his newest slice of pizza. “Ditch the fucker.”

That said, Rowan grabbed another slice. With pizza in both hands and a couple of beers tucked under his arm, Rowan vanished down the hall toward the bedrooms.

“And we’re ordering in for dinner!” Rowan announced moments before his bedroom door closed behind him.

Silence fell over Lysandra and Aelin.

After a moment, Aelin aimed a murderous glare at Lysandra. “Fuck you.”

Lysandra, on the other hand, was deep in thought. “You know who wouldn’t line up his next booty call right after fucking the ever-loving hell out of you?”

Aelin tilted her head, waiting for the explanation.

A perfectly manicured fingernail pointed down the hail in the direction Rowan had just disappeared in.

“Rowan?” Aelin made a face. “Gross.”

“I can tell,” Lysandra swore, sitting up straight in her chair. She looked prim, even. “That is a man who would gladly fuck a lady’s brains out if asked. He’d make sure you couldn’t walk the next day. So, he could keep you in bed, and do it all over again.”

“Ew. Lys!” Aelin blushed for an entirely different reason now.

Rowan’s sex life was the last thing that Aelin wanted to think about. Sure, they’d spoken about it on occasion, but even as best friends, they typically took those conversations elsewhere. Aelin never thought anything of it. She saved all her dating-sex talk for Lysandra, and Rowan saved it for… Well, Aelin wasn’t sure he gossiped about that kind of thing with anyone.

“I’m serious, Aelin.” Lysandra sighed, standing from the kitchen island. “You’ve got an excellent fuck hiding right under your nose–living right across the hall from you.”

Aelin glared at her. “And I’m serious, Lys. Rowan and I are friends, and you know that. It’s not… like that. He doesn’t think of me like that, and I definitely don’t, either.”

Definitely not.

---

No tags. Please reblog to share the word. Thanks. 💕

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empire-of-wildfire · 2 years

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Once again I am forced to be Rhysand's defense attorney because greasy haired bitches don't know how shut their mouths about sexual assault.

I guess in todays 101 class, we'll discuss power and coercion. You see, if one person has more power than you, say...because they stole all your magic to force you to obey them...and you know they plan to sexually assault you, because again, you lack the true power to say no, that's still sexual assault. Consent is more than just saying, "yeah I fucking guess so" with a dead lipped smile, it involves ENTHUSIASM and PARTICIPATION that you're not giving under duress because, say, this person will kill you for saying no.

And to use a real life example, if you say yes to someone because you're scared they'll hurt you or if you agree and play along because you don't know what they're capable of, that's still sexual assault. The myth that sexual assault is screaming and flailing and begging and pleading ONLY needs to die. Sometimes it is accepting that this is going to happen, and letting it so you can survive.

And whatever you had to do, for whatever reason, under whatever circumstance, was good. I'm proud of you, if no one ever said it. We call them survivors because they survived and that shit is terrifying.

And bare minimum? Hating someone isn't a valid reason for discrediting their experiences.

If you hate Rhysand so much, get his fucking name out of your mouth.

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empire-of-wildfire · 2 years

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Speaking as a SA victim myself, acotar was comforting for me in many ways, a major one of which being the nuance and depth SJM brought to the topic of r*pe/SA. Seeing how those characters processed the trauma and everything that came with it was deeply healing and comforting to me. If you have no direct experience (I mean personal - I don’t give a single fuck what you’re “trained” in) with such things, don’t pretend you know a goddamn thing about it and shut the fuck up. You claim people dislike you because you’re “brutally honest they hate when you make them look like a fool” but if you were honest with yourself, you’d be able to do some self reflection and realize people *despise* you because you are a truly horrible human being and don’t deserve the air you breathe. And I truly hope one day you get all the terrible things you deserve.

Look, I'm a Tamlin fan too and not once have I gotten any hate for it. People don't like you because you do shit like whitewash characters (see: that Lucien fanart you lightened up) or deny Rhysand is a victim of SA, not because of liking Tamlin.

Where are people getting the idea that I lightened something? I legit have no clue what any of you are talking about? I haven’t edited shit. Y'all think I have time for that? 🤣

But if you wanna bring up “whitewashing” Lucien, I think that entire notion is ridiculous anyway since he’s half white and canonically pale enough to pass as Beron’s son LOL. There’s an entire scene you can go back and reference.

And denying Rhys is a victim of SA is because SA literally means that there is no consent. Rhys gave his consent to be Amranthas whore to “save Velaris” and explicitly tells Feyre this. If you want to ignore the book that’s your problem, but it isn’t sexual assault when he voluntarily gave himself up.

People don’t like me because I’m brutally honest and they absolutely hate when I make them look like a fool. Like you right now. It’s crazy how people refuse to go back and look at the text because they still want to keep believing their crazy fandom headcanons are fact. They’re not. ✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻

I also find it quite hilarious that you unblocked me just to send me this bullshit. You must really be bored.

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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Also just gonna add on to this, if I ever find out who you are, you absolute piece of roadkill, I will make your life miserable every. Single. Moment. Till the day you finally do everyone a favor and drop off the face of the earth. I know the fucked up things you’ve been saying to Ezra and the fact that any person is that egotistical and fragile to think that 1) their interpretation of something is the only correct one and 2) that you have any right to say these things to Ezra actually blows my mind. If by chance you see this and decide to actually say it with your chest and not hide behind a screen, my messages are always open and I’ll be glad to tell you exactly what hole in the earth you can crawl back into. 😇

To the homophobia anon, I’m sorry it’s taken me several weeks to notice you submitting stuff to me. Unfortunately I won’t publish them because I don’t want anyone to deal with suicide bait.

But just know I’m a thriving gay trans man with a loving and supporting family :)))))

Might be depressed but I live out of spite to make fuckers like you angry, so it seems like my job here is done.

#should not be this angry this early in the day #don’t fuck with my friends #I will make your life a living hell

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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God I love this fic

Noisy Neighbors (76)

I hope that Rowaelin Month is treating you all well!

(Side note: I have never hated anything more than I hate this new fucking Tumblr post mode. It’s infuriating, and I want it to go away.)

Word Count: ~ 4.7K

Noisy Neighbors Masterlist

Noisy Neighbors Playlist

Inbox | Fic Sideblog | AO3

Aelin Galathynius Live at the Wastes — Round Two!

Aelin isn’t all that surprised when her second performance at the Wastes starts to go to hell.

The rain is endless on the day of the performance. It’s the sort of weather that Aelin would generally find very pleasing. It’s the kind of weather that Aelin enjoys while curled up in bed with an excellent book, but on the day of a concert, Aelin finds it stressful. Worrying. Would the city make her cancel the show because of the rain?

They promise that it won’t, but Aelin has trouble believing them.

It rains into the night because, of course, it does, and the city delays the concert by a few hours because, of course, they do.

But then they get the all-clear to proceed, and a very stern Gavriel manages to talk the city transportation into remaining open a few extra hours from the other side of the world.

And suddenly, Aelin finds herself getting ready to go on stage in the pouring rain in the middle of the fucking desert during what was proving to be a record-breaking weekend for her and the tour.

And, unfortunately, Adarlan Records, too.

Keep reading

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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When I tell you the GASP I let out when I saw the notification for this chapter 🤩🤩🤩

Noisy Neighbors (75)

I have to admit that after just shy of four (FOUR?) months without posting a regular NN update, I am more than a little nervous about doing so. I hope it lives up to the wait. 💕

Housekeeping: If you don’t receive a notification for this post and you’ve interacted with this post, double check that A.) I tagged you at all (I’m not perfect.) and B. that your name isn’t bolded on the list. Thanks!

Word Count: ~ 5.3K

Noisy Neighbors Masterlist

Noisy Neighbors Playlist

Inbox | Fic Sideblog | AO3

Aelin Galathynius Returns to Erilea!

Much to Aelin’s disappointment, Baby Ennar-Ashryver fails to make her—or his—highly anticipated arrival before the weekend passes. Aelin boards her private jet to Doranelle feeling more than a little disappointed about it. There was no way that Aelin would be lucky enough to be in town when Lys went into labor now. Not that Aelin even wished such a thing onto her friend. Lysandra was far past sick of being pregnant.

Homesickness creeps into Aelin’s bones like an old friend, weighing down her smiles and dampening her laughter. Aelin is surprised by how quickly the feeling catches up to her; she’s only just left her home. There was a time when Aelin would tour for months on end without the bittersweet feeling of wanting to be somewhere else. But then again, a lot of things were different back in The Cadre days.

Aelin keeps the feeling to herself. She slips on her entertainer’s smile for the touring company and for her friends. Aelin’s always found it easier to hedge around the truth with Rowan without him in person. She had a feeling that he suspected it, but without concrete proof, her boyfriend would never call her out on it. They would both just ignore, despite their deal.

Keep reading

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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AH YAY IM SO EXCITED YOU POSTED THIS

ALL OF YOU STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND GO READ THIS ITS GLORIOUS AND IM SO PROUD TO CALL THIS AMAZING WOMAN AND AUTHOR MY FRIEND

Well well well

Fairy inactive on here these days, BUT went a little crazy. 2019 was my year of writing fanfics, 2020 I wrote an entire book during Camp Nano in July! It’s been done for a while now, and finally posting it somewhere for others to read and get some feedback. I’ll post updates on Tuesdays!

So if you like: -YA -Girls in STEM -And a group of teen renovating a 70′s nightmare apartment You may just enjoy To The Studs.

Also thanks to @empire-of-wildfire who read through this entire story TWICE because she is the most precious hooman that I cannot believe I get to call my friend.

Thanks for taking a look :) https://www.wattpad.com/story/280961183-to-the-studs

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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what is it about finishing the last book in a series that makes me feel so melancholy? even satisfied with the ending, i never want to say goodbye to the characters, to the world, to the story.

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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staff: *coming out of their hiding place after a few years* are they gone? is it safe? can we make this a profitable website finally?

us, every single time:

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empire-of-wildfire · 3 years

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OMG could you bless us with a part two to another sleepless night 🙏🙏🙏🙏

WARNINGS: none, just a lot of feels

A/N: here is part one - also I just tagged whoever was on my drabble tag list so here y’all go lol

No one will win this time I just want you back I'm running to your side Flying my white flag, my white flag

My love, where are you? My love, where are you?

Whenever you're ready, whenever you're ready Whenever you're ready, whenever you're ready Can we? Can we surrender? Can we? Can we surrender? I surrender

Rowan pushed open the door to the conference room turned makeshift dressing room for the groomsmen, his hands slightly shaky. He hadn’t seen Aedion in almost a year, and had been surprised that his ex-girlfriend’s cousin had still wanted him to be the Best Man at the wedding. When he’d talked to Aedion on the phone a few weeks ago, all Aedion had said was “I love my cousin, but you’re my best friend. I’d like you to be there.”

Rowan knew Aelin was the Maid of Honor, and that fact alone is what had him in a damn near panic attack. He hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t heard from her since that late night phone call six months ago.

“Look what the fucking cat dragged in!”

Rowan couldn’t stop the grin that pulled up his lips as his other best friend Fenrys Moonbeam pulled him into a hug, giving him a firm pat on the back. He pulled away to see Lorcan here as well, the tall man giving him a nod. Aedion came up and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a warm smile.

“Glad you could make it,” the blonde said, and Rowan’s heart clinched at the similarities between Aelin and her cousin.

“You actually getting married? Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Rowan winked, setting the other men off into fits of laughter.

They got ready, everyone dressed in black suits with jade green ties— a green that Aedion swore was the same color as Lysandra’s eyes. A couple hours later and pleasantly buzzed on whiskey, Rowan followed his friends down to the spacious hall that sat outside the ballroom where the wedding would take place. Aedion had left fifteen minutes ago to make sure everything in the ballroom was ready to go and to take his place at the altar to wait for Lysandra.

“Godsdamn, would you take a look at that,” Fenrys said in a low voice, giving his friend a shit-eating grin and elbowing him in the side.

Rowan frowned and looked to where Fen’s eyes had flicked to, his heart threatening to stop in his chest. Gods, he knew Aelin would be here. He had anticipated seeing her every second since he’d landed in Orynth last night. But actually seeing her in person after a year away was like a kick to the chest.

She stood with Elide and a redhead he vaguely remembered was Ansel, a genuine smile on her face. Her golden blonde hair was loosely curled and tumbling over her shoulders. Her dress matched his tie, the color complimenting her lasting tan from the summer. And when those eyes— those turquoise eyes that he knew better than any other pair of eyes in the universe turned towards him— he swore he stopped breathing.

Aelin couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stop staring at the man down the hall from her, looking way too damn good in a black tuxedo and tie that matched her dress. His silvery hair was getting a little too long, strands of it falling over his forehead. His emerald green gaze was locked on hers, and gods she should look away but she couldn’t. She hadn’t looked into those eyes in over a year, hadn’t heard from him, hadn’t heard his voice since that dumb and risky late night phone call six months ago.

She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten he was Aedion’s Best Man. Mala above, she knew he would’ve been here, knew that despite everything he was still Aedion’s best friend. But she’d been too busy with Lysandra’s part of the wedding she hadn’t stopped to remember that she would soon be side by side with him, her arm in his as they started the procession down the aisle.

Suddenly she felt too hot, and she turned to Lysandra, who was already watching her with that keen gaze of hers.

“You’ll be fine,” Lys said, giving her a smirk that Aelin would’ve loved to smack off her if it wasn’t her wedding day.

Gritting her teeth, she turned back towards the doors that led to the ballroom, heart pounding in her chest as the wedding coordinator called for everyone to get into place. She looked straight ahead as she felt a familiar presence come stand next to her. Gods, she didn’t know if she could do this.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rowan offer his arm. Trying to hide that she was shaking, she twined hers with his, resting her hand on his forearm. She felt him relax under her touch, and that small movement had her knees threatening to give out. A year later and he still felt the same. It was unreal.

She barely remembered the walk down the aisle, couldn’t focus on anything except how his fingers had brushed hers when they’d parted ways to opposite sides of the altar. Heat had rushed up her arm, and every single memory of those fingers on her skin had played through her head the entire ceremony. She went through the motions of smiling and clapping when her cousin and her best friend kissed, and then she was arm in arm with Rowan as he led her to the other side of the spacious ballroom to where tables and a dancefloor were set up.

She didn’t remember a single moment of her Maid of Honor speech, could only recall that when she spoke of love her eyes had found Rowan, only to have him already staring at her. She had tripped over her words, blowing it off with a joke about too much champagne before continuing. She got through dinner, Elide providing welcome conversation to distract her from the silver-haired man across the table from her.

The dancing began but Aelin couldn’t find herself to get out of her chair. She hadn’t brought a plus one to the wedding. She’d broken up with Sam the day after that phone call with Rowan. She couldn’t do it anymore, and she hated herself more than anyone that she couldn’t give her all to someone that had genuinely loved her. Sam had taken the breakup well, but she knew that she’d hurt him.

She looked up from her empty plate to see that she wasn’t alone at the table. Rowan was there too, staring at his own plate, his fingers fiddling with the tablecloth. She blinked once in confusion, eyebrows furrowing as she finally realized he’d come to the wedding alone too. She looked around the huge space, but she couldn’t find any sign of the pretty brunette Rowan was dating. Lyria, that was her name.

A cleared throat had her eyes shooting back to Rowan, who looked as out of place as she probably did. He stood and walked over to her side of the table, finally meeting her gaze. He stayed quiet for a moment before clearing his throat again, offering her his hand.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, voice soft.

A small part of her wanted to say no, wanted to ignore his outstretched hand but before she could her own was sliding into his large palm, her head nodding as she stood. “Okay.”

He gave her a small smile, that same smile he’d given her after he’d dropped her off at home after their first date. A smile that betrayed how nervous he felt, one that she had found so damn endearing. One she wouldn’t admit she still found endearing.

A slow song started up as they stepped onto the dance floor, one of Rowan’s hands resting on her lower back, one of her’s resting on his arm as their other hands twined together. Everywhere they touched was almost unbearable but in the best way possible, her senses overwhelmed by him. She stared at his tie, afraid that if she made eye contact with him one more time she’d be completely undone by him.

“So…” she started, wanting to cringe at how awkward she sounded. “Where’s your date?”

Now that didn’t sound like she was bitter or anything.

She watched him swallow hard. “I came alone.”

Her gaze shot up to his before she could stop herself. “Why?”

“I…” he looked conflicted for several seconds before sighing, meeting her eyes again. “Lyria and I haven’t been together for six months now.”

She almost tripped over her own feet in surprise. Six months…

“And you?” he asked before she could respond.

She bit her lip, deciding that honesty was the best policy. “I broke up with Sam the day after I called you.”

Rowan’s breath caught and she went back to staring at his tie. They danced in silence for way too long before he pulled her close. She made a surprised noise, looking up at him. They were no longer dancing, standing still on the dancefloor, hands still twined.

“I’m moving back to Orynth,” he breathed. “The company has grown a lot in the last year, and we opened up a division here. I accepted a position here.”

She stared into those emerald eyes, bottom lips starting to shake. “Why?” she demanded breathlessly. “Why would you do that?”

“You know damn well why,” he whispered.

“Rowan—”

She cut herself off when his hands grabbed her face, thumbs resting against her cheeks.

“I broke up with Lyria the day after you called me,” he told her, eyes burning into hers. “I couldn’t lay next to her when every godsdamn night I was dreaming about someone else. I couldn’t look her in the face when I felt more at home listening to your voice from over a thousand miles away when she was in the next room. I couldn’t be with her when it was you I wanted to come home to, when it was your laugh I wanted to hear all the time, when it was you I wanted to fall asleep next to. I couldn’t do it.”

For perhaps the first time in her life, Aelin was stunned speechless.

“I couldn’t do anything until I knew this new division was going to work out. But I know that even if it hadn’t, I—” his nostrils flared as if he was angry. But he wasn’t, not as he continued, “I would’ve quit that fucking job, because none of it mattered if I wasn’t with you, Aelin.”

And just like that, the whole past year fell away, the heartbreak, the anger, the tears, everything was forgiven as she stared up at him.

“I broke up with Sam,” she began shakily, “because I couldn’t be with him when I was calling you at two in the morning. I couldn’t be with him when I had never even moved on in the first place. I gave my whole heart away, and I don’t want it back Rowan. You have it, every single part.”

His mouth was on hers the moment she finished talking, and she all but threw herself into him. Everything about him was exactly as she’d remembered; kissing him was like coming home. His mouth fit against hers like every inch of their bodies had been made for each other. Her hands rested against his neck, feeling the pulse that flickered fast, knowing that it was that fast because of her.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb traveled over her bottom lip slowly, his forehead resting against hers. “I never stopped loving you, Fireheart.”

Her eyes burned at the nickname. “Ditto.”

He huffed a laugh, giving her one more kiss before pulling her close to him, rocking them gently to the rest of the song.

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