#*sings ''Man in the Mirror* on the top of my lungs*

[mrs-gauche]

Omg guys, someone on the BSN forum noticed that there's a face in the shattered mirror on the vinyl artwork??

(Edit not mine, credit goes to op!)

Please tell me I'm not the only one who didn't notice... lol

Anyway, that has to be Solas, right? The profile is almost identical with the way he was portrayed in the Fool tarot card?

Now I'm starting to see all kinds of shapes in the shattered pieces... lol Any ideas how this could be interpreted? His expression looks rather hurt, saddened.. And with the little pieces below, it almost looks like tears falling?

[paper-starz]

What would you say is the most unhealthiest coping mechanism each neighbor has for the self aware au?

OMG HIIII!! I never really thought about that, what a great question!

Barnaby- He copes with jokes but they become self-deprecating and dark after a while. Not only that, but he smokes a LOT more now. He also sleeps too much, but at least one of the neighbors could drag him outta bed!

Eddie- Toxic positivity. The poor guy just wants to see the brighter side of things, but he kinda minimizes the negative aspects. "Oh! My arm got ripped off. Oh well, guess I could lose a few pounds."

Frank- Overworking. Although it is inspiring that he and Eddie already found lots of clues about Welcome Home (and its history), Frank overworks themselves to the point of exhaustion. They are really trying to find a way out, who can blame him? He also barely eats since they are this close to figuring out EVERYTHING. Good thing Eddie's there to make them eat.

Sally- Self-criticism/perfectionism and LOTS of it. SHE's the best actress, SHE's not suppose to get caught nor make any mistakes. She beats herself up constantly, especially if she gets outta character. So, she practices in front of the mirror for HOURS, making sure that she stays in character no matter what. If she messes up, she does the entire thing over again. She barely gets any sleep because of this.

Poppy- Overthinking. She is the one that the neighbors turn to when one of them got hurt, she patches them up as best she can! But, what if they get hurt again? What if you CAN'T fix them this time? This kinds of overthinking makes her a bit of a Mother Hen, constantly watching over the other neighbors and making sure that they stay in character.

Howdy- Denial and avoidance. Poor bug-man tried flat out denying that he was self-aware. Him? In a show? Ridiculous! Of course, that denial soon went away after the first few visits with Home... then that denial turned into avoidance. He stays in his shop most of the time, making everything all nice and perfect. He's in a good mood when the other neighbors come in but as soon as good ole' Wally Darling enters his shop... he freezes. He can't move and he can't breathe and he's this close from screaming at the top of his lungs cause he can't STAND Wally being with him. The other neighbors (usually Sally) try to distract Wally while Howdy tries to pull himself together... or escape through the backdoor. He avoids Wally and Home like the PLAGUE.

Julie- Anger. Julie was never an angry girl, ever! She loved singing and dancing and having fun, but ever since she got self-aware... she got angry. How DARE Home hurt her friends! How DARE someone keep her and her friends trapped here! She gets so angry that she hurts those closest to her... Then she gets even more mad, so mad that she rips her hair out.

Wally- He has no unhealthy coping mechanisms! He doesn't even know what they are!

Home- Oh boy.... The demon house's form of 'coping' is violence. Preferably onto the neighbors. It also has some denial as it doesn't see what its doing as anything bad. It stitched Sally's mouth up because she was trying to tell Wally the truth! It's just protecting Wally! It took Eddie's eye because he accidentally slipped up again, he just needs to know that he can't make Wally upset!

[mystcldydrms]

SILVER SPRINGS - EDDIE MUNSON

summary: you and eddie were in a relationship that ended and the only way to help you is singing.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: a bit angsty

notes: I listened to silver springs by fleetwood mac the whole day and I just had to write down this idea.

navigation | main masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | taglist

“I want to cover a song tonight.”

You said those words as soon as you entered the room where you and your band practised. They all looked at you with their eyes wide open, some of them even with open mouths because you knew they were surprised and shocked at the same time, except one boy, Eddie. He looked at you, but his face showed no emotion.

“What song?” one of your bandmates asked you while you slipped out of your jacket and dropped it down onto a chair that stood near the wall of the room.

“Silver Springs.”

You didn’t dare to look at Eddie. You knew he was watching you. He also knew why you wanted to cover that song, however, the other boys didn’t. Eddie and you had been in a secret relationship for over a year until he called it off a few weeks ago. To say you were devasted was an understatement, but you tried your best to pick yourself up on your own. You started to write even more songs than before, and one song in particular helped you through these weeks, Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac. You felt those lyrics. You screamed the song at the top of your lungs in your house. Your parents had no idea why, but they didn’t tell you to stop singing. They let you be yourself because they knew that music was your life, and whatever you were going through, they knew you needed that song.

“y/n, our performance is tonight. Shouldn’t we wait until our next one?”

You shook your head as you took your microphone into your hand, swinging the cable to the side before you turned around and looked at your bandmates, reluctantly glancing at Eddie, who tuned his guitar.

“You all know that song, right? I know you do, so let’s practice it. I want to play it tonight.”

These were the last words you had to say to the three young men behind you before you started your band practice.

It was now after 8 in the evening, and you were backstage, getting ready to go on stage. You had already done your hair and make-up. The only thing left to do was to go out there and sing. Before you were able to leave the room though, you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.”, you said, looking at yourself one more time in the mirror before you turned around and came face to face with Eddie.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked you quietly, shutting the door with his hand, so no one could listen to your conversation.

You sighed lightly as you nodded your head. You had to do this for yourself. It just felt right.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I need this.”

“But why? No one knows about us and –“

“Oh, is this what it is about? You don't want anyone to find out that you dated the singer of your band? What would the people say, huh? I can’t believe you, Eddie.”

The young man in front of you instantly shook his head as he took a few steps toward you. You could see that he was trying to take hold of your hand but quickly dropped it again once he noticed what he was about to do.

“No. It’s not that. I always wanted everyone to find out, that you were my girlfriend, but the timing wasn’t right.”

You couldn’t help but let a humourless laugh escape your lips, shaking your head.

“Not the right time? There was plenty of time, Eddie. But you know what? Maybe now is the right time, even though we’re not a thing anymore.”

You walked over to the couch in the room. You grabbed your jacket for your performance and walked over to the door.

“Let’s go. We’re on in five minutes.”

You left him standing there. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. This was for you and only you. You couldn’t and wouldn’t think about anyone else but yourself now.

As soon as you were on stage, you heard the small crowd, mostly consisting of some people you knew, clap, and you swiftly started playing one of your own songs. More and more people swarmed into the venue, getting themselves something to drink or crowding in front of the stage.

After a few more songs, it was time to play the cover you were looking forward to the most.

“Thank you.”, you said, a bit breathless, pushing your hair out of your face. “It is now time to play a song that some of you may know. It’s a cover of a song that helped me through a tough time. Maybe some of you can relate.”

You held the microphone tightly in your hands, quickly taking a glimpse at Eddie, whose eyes were already watching you. He nodded his head as he started to play the first few chords of the song, the other two boys following suit.

You closed your eyes as you started singing. The further you got into the song, the more emotions you poured into it. You lost yourself in this song, not caring that anyone was watching you. You kept your eyes closed until the right time.

“Was I just a fool? You will never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you. Was I just a fool? I’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you.”

Once your eyes were wide open, you looked to your right. You had no idea if Eddie had looked away from you during the song, but at this moment, when you sang those words out loud that hit you the most, he was directly looking into your eyes. Everyone around you could feel that, at this moment, there was something between you and him, something deeper, something no one had known about but now speculated.

You knew that if the two of you would continue to stay in a band together, he would always hear your voice. He would always have to listen to your sound. One thing you also knew, was that you would always have feelings for him. You would always feel love for him.

You didn’t know whether you two could ever be together again as a couple. Secretly, you hoped you would. You missed him. Did he miss you? You didn’t know. He was the one who broke up with you. But one thing you knew for sure, were the emotions you saw in his eyes while you sang those special lyrics straight at him.

His eyes glistened as you finished the song, and your eyes were just as wet. You sang the last word of the song before you stepped away from the microphone and took one big breath. As soon as the song ended, the crowd went wild, clapping and screaming, and you couldn’t help but have a big smile on your lips.

 “You did amazing.”, you heard Eddie whisper into your ear. You hadn’t noticed that he had walked over to where you were.

You turned your head to him, a small, almost unnoticeable, smile gracing his lips. You nodded your head as you took your water bottle into your hand and quickly took a sip of it.

“Thank you.”, you whispered, putting a hand on his arm, which you gently squeezed before you turned back around, ready to sing another song to the crowd.

[lynzishell]

~*~The Beginning~*~

*knock* *knock* *knock* [keys jangling, fitting into lock] [muffled voices] Aurelio: Thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it.

Aurelio: Phoenix? You here? Phoenix: *muffled* Go away. Aurelio: He’s here, he’s okay. Thank you again!

Aurelio: Hey man, you gave us quite a scare. You okay? Phoenix: …. Aurelio: No, of course you’re not okay. I heard about Greta. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Hey. Talk to me. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Come on. You’ll feel better if you sit up and talk about it. Phoenix: …

Aurelio: Alright. I’ll tell you what. If you don’t talk, then I’ll have to sing. Phoenix: … Aurelio: I will sing to you. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Okay.. [clears throat and begins singing] Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow. Phoenix: *groaning* Aurelio: [continues singing] But if we are wise, we know that there’s always tomorrow. Phoenix: Ok Aurelio: [singing louder] Lean on me when you’re not strong, and I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on!

Phoenix: Ok ok I’m up Aurelio: [singing louder still] For it won’t be long, till I’m gonna need somebody to lean on! Phoenix: I said I’m up!

Aurelio: Good… good, now talk to me.

Phoenix: [taking a breath] I fucked up! I fucked everything up! And now everything’s gone to shit. I fucking killed him. Sure, he was a monster, but what am I? I’m a fucking killer now? What am I supposed to do with that? And I lost Greta. Do you know what she said to me? She doesn’t feel safe with me. What the fuck?! I appreciate you all having my back and lying for me… but maybe you shouldn’t have. What do I even do now? I’m alone in this dump of an apartment. I have no job. I only have enough in savings to get through next month. Then what? I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. I don’t know who I am anymore, Aurelio.

He didn’t even notice he had started crying until he had to stop to wipe his nose.

Phoenix: FUCK! Why are you here?!

Aurelio: I’m here because I care about you, because you’re my best friend. I know exactly who you are. You are Phoenix fucking Realta. You are smart, resourceful, determined. All the things you moved here for, they’re all still out there waiting for you. And you’re not alone. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I got into SMMI. I’m moving into the student housing apartments in the Arts Quarter in a couple months.

Phoenix: Congratulations. Aurelio: Thank you. Look, I know it’s been an awful year so far. Maybe you need someone to talk to, to work through the whole mess, and that’s okay. I've started seeing a therapist, only a couple sessions so far, but it's good. And I think it'd be good for you too, if you're willing. Julian and I will help. Phoenix: Ok. Aurelio: Yeah? Phoenix: Yeah. Aurelio: Good.

Phoenix: Thanks. Aurelio: You’re welcome. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Y’know, we have our whole lives ahead of us. And you are going to do great things. I know it.

Aurelio: This isn’t the end, ok? This is just the beginning.

Prev // Next

Personal story under the cut:

This post is dedicated to two amazing friends I had in high school. At the time, I was suffering from a deep depression, and had stopped speaking (a trauma response that still affects me from time to time). One day my friends pulled me out of bed and took me for a walk to the park on a sunny day. While we were there, they tried to get me to talk to them. But I couldn’t. So, instead, they sang this song to me… at the top of their lungs. And it was amazing. It didn’t solve anything. I didn’t speak for another couple months, and my depression lasted years more. But that moment will forever be a bright spot in a very dark time. To this day, anytime I feel down, I think back to that day and smile. After everything I put Phoenix through this week, I felt like he needed a moment like that… even if it’s super cheesy.

[neon-kazoo]

Nobody But You

I was too late.

I knew this as certain as I knew the Sun would rise in the morning. It was confirmed by the burning of my lungs as I breathed in the smoke and ashes that were once the people and place I had come to save. Stray embers kicked up by my boots singed the skin of my bare arms, making my failure all too evident as I traipsed through the fresh graveyard that used to be my home. I ignored the pain, and continued undeterred. It was nothing compared to what had happened to them. I was supposed to save them, the least I could do was stay and watch them burn.

My foot connected unexpectedly with the hard shell of what I could only assume to be bone. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I blamed the burning on the inhospitable environment and blinked them away. I already knew they were all dead, a reminder should mean nothing to me. I tried to focus straight ahead and keep moving, but instead my eyes connected with the remains of a charred doll with blonde hair dyed dark with soot and burned short by fire. It wore clothes of bright colors, standing out against the grey and black that blanketed the ground as far as I could see. A perfect mirror.

I loosed a scream of anguish that left my throat rawer than before. The sound carried wide across the open plain. It didn’t matter.

There was no one here but me.

No one but me-

And Him.

A figure stood tall and alone on the other side of what should have been a joyful place full of people, full of children, full of families, full of couples, full of love-

I had never been in love.

I had never been anywhere close, never so much as kissed a peer in school behind the gym, never held hands with the neighbor under the big oak tree, never confessed crushes with my best friend during a late-night sleepover.

I wondered, now, what it was really like.

How did it feel to carry another in your heart, to be connected so intimately? Was it heavy? How did it feel to be carried in the heart of another, to trust so deeply? Was it freeing?

I knew of butterflies, the so-described fluttering of the stomach that sounded curiously close to fear. Fear, I had felt before. I knew it well.

Now, however, I felt no fear. There was nothing left to fear; the worst had already happened.

When I found myself standing in front of the man responsible for destroying everything I had ever known, there were no butterflies. The only thing I felt in my stomach now was a deep, cavernous pit.

I longed for comfort, for warmth, for the chatter and bustling that should have surrounded me here. Instead, I heard only a solitary voice, smug and victorious.

“How does it feel? To lose?”

Heavy.

I heard once that, sometimes, love hurts. I was definitely hurting now.

Certainly, it was not supposed to feel like this, tinged with a festering hatred, full of a craving for anything, and topped with inexperience and confusion.

I looked into his darkened eyes, reflective of what he had done. We were close, too close for being in such a vast and empty place.

I did not know what love felt like, but I knew what it felt to be desperate for it.

Although I knew this wasn’t right, that this was no where near ‘good’ or ‘healthy’ or ‘normal’ or true love, I also knew it was as close as I would ever get.

I was out of time. For me, there was no later, there was no where else, there was no one else.

Not anymore.

And so, when I found a pair of lips hovering so very close to mine, I closed my eyes and shut out the decimated landscape. In that moment, I could almost believe that this wasn’t the same man that guaranteed I would never get the chance to experience the very thing we were pretending to have. We kissed, and he held me close with the very same hands that brought such catastrophic loss and devastation into my life. I let myself fall into the feeling, get lost in the touches—wrong as it all was.

Freedom.

It was over.

[crowblincray]

So I have at least 20 years of experience in the janitorial profession. (Work at a grocery store now) The number of stories I have from said time are kinda crazy.

I've cleaned for so many various businesses and have cleaned homes and apartments.

Most people don't think of the cleaning staff. It's a mostly thankless job, you're basically invisible until someone has something to complain about.

The pay usually sucks, at least with the companies I worked for. No benefits, no days off, no breaks.

You get to see a side of the world that most don't even think about.

I have a lot of ghost stories in particular. A lot of places I worked at had weird occurrences and paranormal things. Something about night time in various locations really changes things.

I grew up with an awareness of unexplainable things. My mom never told me ghosts didn't exist or anything like that. If anything, she had her own stories from her childhood.

I don't expect other people to believe my stories or beliefs about things. If you read my stories and want to think of it as just spooky stories, so be it. I'm not here to convince anyone.

That being said.

The most haunted place I ever cleaned for was a private school.

To my knowledge, it's no longer there and was torn down some years ago but I haven't bothered to confirm. I never want to go back to that place.

Now ghosts and weird stuff don't easily scare me. I cleaned for other buildings that had resident ghosts that I became familiar with and even kind of befriended, maybe?

Anyway this place in particular was bad. I don't know what it was about it.

During the day it was beautiful. Birds singing, squirrels running around. 8 acres, 10 buildings. Quiet area.

At night, the place changed. I once had a moment there that felt straight out of silent hill. I worked there with only one other person and sometimes completely alone.

One afternoon as the sun was going down we were outside of the performance building they had for plays and the science fair they did, etc. There was an airforce base within close proximity. The storm sirens at the base started up just as the last bit of light fell behind the horizon. Sounding just like the silent hill sirens. The area instantly felt different, malevolent. The woman I worked with felt it too. A large southern black lady who didn't scare easily. She shuddered at the same time I felt a chill and loudly declared, "Whelp, time to get in the building!" And left to go back inside. Me following right behind her.

The bugs that would infest that place were Massive. I usually don't mind most bugs but I'm talking centipedes that looked like living ostrich feathers that had no fear of humans. Various other bugs I'd never seen or heard of at the time.

It felt like it would rain every night there. Sometimes only on that property. One time I got so mad about it since I had to go outside and walk to each building carrying all my cleaning supplies and would get drenched in the process. One night I screamed at the sky in frustration, "Stop Fucking Raining!" At the top of my lungs at the sky. Oddly enough it did a few minutes later.

The place felt like it had a mind of its own. Like it was alive. I know it sounds crazy. Yes there were ghosts there but there was something about it that scared me more than the ghosts.

You know how at night big glass windows kind of turn into black mirrors and you can't see outside? Just a reflection of the inside?

I'd see kids in the windows all the time following me around. In one building there was a tall black figure I could see following behind me all the time.

The performance building I mentioned earlier had an old man I'd see there sometimes. Now to turn the lights off in that building you had to go All the way behind where the stage was and flip them off and walk back to the front door in pitch black. I didn't have a flashlight either. Now I'm not afraid of the dark, never really have been. I usually find it comforting. As soon as I would flip that light off I'd feel like I had to run out of there. Like I was being chased out by the old man. I don't think he liked people being around after dark.

I'd constantly hear my name being called or people talking though no one was there. I'd ask the other lady if she had called for me or anything. She never did. She was encountering the same kind of things that I was.

It got so bad and I started getting so paranoid and distracted that I started bringing music with me to drown it out. To try and ignore all the creepy crap just so I could get my work done. My coworker began to do the same.

Time would seem to warp some nights. Things that should have only been 20 or 30 minutes long would in actuality be over an hour.

Other times, nights that seemed to go on forever were relatively short. I usually have really good time management with that job so it was really weird.

There is one funny story about that place I'll never forget though.

The place had two huge gates that leads into the campus that were kept locked at night. One being right in front of the very first building.

It was around 2/3am, pouring rain outside. I had just finished bagging the trash in that building and was dragging it out the front door. We would leave the bags of garbage at the front of the buildings to collect at the end of our shift.

I was there alone that night. The road in front of the school was usually completely dead that time of night. I hadn't seen any cars go by at this point.

One lone car is going down the road and comes to a stop right by the gate as I'm putting the bags down. They roll their window down and turn their radio up.

It's blasting Set fire to the rain by Adele.

I stare at the car.

They drive off.

I shake my head and walked back into the building.

When we were given the news that we had been fired from that place I felt no panic or anxiety that I would usually feel at such news.

I was relieved.

I might try and post some other stories here sometime, but that place will always stick in my mind.

P.S. little funny fact. It was the exact same private school my mom had sent me for kindergarten/1st grade. Lol.

[bellysoupset]

hiii can you please write a fic with leo getting carsick with lucas and vince?? and this time it’s pretty bad, they have to pull over multiple times and he still can’t stop dry heaving long after he’s empty and vince and luke are in complete Protective Bro Mode taking care of leo

"So I put my hands up" Vince belted from the top of his lungs, causing Lucas to dissolve in a fit of giggles and turn up the radio. He joined in the singing "They're playin' my song, the butterflies fly away I'm noddin' my head like-" and then pointed at Vince, who chorused in, "YEeeaahhh"

"You two are awful" Leo groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his temples.

"Moving my hips like yeah!" Vin yelled from the back and Lucas snorted loudly.

"It's a party in the USA!"

"God" Leo sighed, leaning his head against the window.

"Cheer the fuck up, Leo!" Vin squealed, shoving his big body between the passenger and driver's seat and shaking Leo's arm, "it's the song of our people!"

"...Your people?" Leo groaned, slapping Vince's hand away from his arm, "dumbasses?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, "you started dating Jonah a week ago, why is he already rubbing off on you?"

"Fuck off, Luke" Leo scoffed, rubbing his face and glaring out of the windshield. A heavy silence settled and Vince scoffed, slapping Lucas' arm.

"You gone and made it weird, cazzo" he grumbled, before ruffling Leo's blonde hair, "what's up kiddo, you're all mopey."

"Don't call me kiddo" Leo sighed and then bit down a groan as he felt his stomach flip flop. It felt like it was filled to the brim with hot soup, even though the last he had eaten was bland oatmeal, followed by his anti nausea medication. Said medication that had promised to knock him out and give him a blissful six hours of cross country trip. Clearly it wasn't working.

"Answer the question, you little prick."

"I'm just... Just feeling bleh" Leo blushed. Suddenly he felt like the worst person ever. Not only he was a hassle to deal with by constantly getting carsick, but he was also bringing down the mood of the car. Vince and Luke had been so happy not even a minute before and now they were both frowning, looking at him with twin faces of concern.

"Bleh?" Luke repeated, "as in a headache or I'm gonna throw up in the car bleh?"

"Uhm," Leo curled up in himself, "a little bit of both..." his stomach churned, "maybe more the second."

"What the heck, you're sitting on the front and you took meds!" Vince whined, "I thought that wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Me too, sorry" Leo mumbled and Vince winced.

"No man, I'm not mad at you, I'm mad for you. This sucks" he ran his fingers through Leo's hair without thinking, catching Lucas' eyes on the rear view mirror and doing that twin thing they did, where they talked with just their eyes.

Leo groaned and leaned onto Vince's touch. Vin's hands were always a touch too warm, but at least they were solid and steady, a change from the sensation of the moving car.

"Leo," Lucas reached in to squeeze his leg in a reassuring manner, "do I need to pull over?"

Leo thought about it for a second. He really wanted to say he could do until the next gas stop, but his stomach was going from angry to fucking furious and he could already taste his breakfast in the back of his throat, "...Please."

"It's okay buddy" Lucas nodded, swiftly slowing down the car and turning up the emergency sign. He parked on the dust shoulder and Leo groaned, unlocking the door with a shaky hand.

"I'll be right back" he mumbled, then dizzily stepped out of the car, trying to salvage a scrap of his dignity. He made it to the back of the car and crouched down on the gravel, using the trunk to support his arms.

Inside the car, Vince watched as Leo, pale as a ghost suddenly disappeared from view and he raised a startled eyebrow "uh... I think we just lost the baby."

Lucas snorted, "he'll be pissed if he hears you call him that...Even"

"Odd" Vince said, then threw up his hand in the space between them, holding up two fingers. Lucas had only held up one and he sighed, seeing the results of their childish match. Vince grinned, "rough, bud" he said, kicking Lucas' driver seat.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "give me a water bottle" he asked, taking it and getting out of the car. He cringed as he approached the back and found Leo hunched down, with a small puddle of chunky white and brown puke before him.

"Hey" he said softly, crouching down too and planting a hand on Leo's back. Today he was wearing a long sleeved henley and its back was already drenched in sweat, "Leo, you're done, man."

"Uhm," Leo gagged weakly, "don't..." he let out a small burp, "don't think so."

"Okay, take your time" Lucas planted a hand in the middle of his back, "why are you almost on all fours?"

"Didn't want you to-" Leo interrupted himself with a painful heave and brought up a mouthful more of brown liquid "ah fuck..."

Lucas wrinkled his nose at the mess. He wasn't one to be bothered by vomit, but this stank, "get it up," he said gently, rubbing Leo's back a little forcefully.

A minute later Leo let out a queasy moan and almost lost his hold on the trunk as he heaved. Lucas grabbing his shirt was the only thing keeping him from face planting, as he brought up a lot more vomit.

He stopped puking and hung over it, breathing strongly "I'm..." he paused and spat in the puddle "I'm done."

"Alright" Lucas grunted, since his legs were starting to ache from the awkward crouched down position, "up we go"

"You talk like such a dad, Lucas" Leo chuckled weakly, stumbling away from the mess and resting against the car, "fuck my stomach hurts."

"Yeah, I'd expect so" Lucas handed him the water bottle "the fuck did you eat for breakfast, battery acid?"

Leo lowered the water bottle before it could touch his lips and gagged at the mention of his breakfast, glaring at Lucas, who had the decency of blushing and mumbling "sorry."

He waited patiently as Leo swished the water around his mouth, spat it and then took a tiny sip, trying to regulate his breathing.

"It's staying down?"

"Uhm... Not sure" Leo pressed the cold water bottle to his forehead, "I'm very dizzy, Luke."

"Meds did fuck-all" Lucas noted, rubbing his arm, "we'll stop at the next gas stop we find, get you some of the real stuff."

"No point" Leo squeezed his eyes, "...doubt I could keep it down now."

"We'll try anyway" Lucas promised, then fidgeted, "ready to get back in the car?"

Leo nodded, albeit he wasn't so sure. Just the thought of being in a moving car, again, was making him anxious. Speaking of anxious, as soon as he sat back down, Vince was the perfect picture of a worried mother, combing his hair back, hands on his clammy neck and forehead.

"How are you feeling, Leo?"

"Like crap" Leo sighed, cheeks blushing because he couldn't stop himself from leaning onto Vince's touch, "I hate my fucking stomach."

"Me too, kid" Vince sighed, rubbing his shoulders as Lucas started the car back up, "Uhm, I got you a bag..."

It was a nice gesture, but it made Leo's stomach clench from the sheer humiliation, let alone the nausea. Why couldn't he be like the other two, just hanging out, having the time of their lives?

"Thanks" Leo mumbled, taking it and leaving it on his lap. He knew he was far from empty, even if he hadn't eaten much for breakfast, Jonah had made sure he ate more than one yogurt he was planning to have. Now he was regretting it.

Thinking of his boyfriend at least brought up the small ounce of relief that he wasn't around for such a pathetic display. Even if Jonah had seen him sick a million times before, at least this was one less.

His belly churned as Lucas pulled the car into the road and Leo kept his eyes shut. He wasn't sure if it was helping with the motion sickness, so he forced them to open, only to catch his two best friends in the act of silently communicating.

"You guys can speak about me out loud, thanks" Leo grumbled, wrapping an arm around his tender belly. It was nauseating and awful the fact that he could genuinely feel his bloated belly somersault under his arm.

"Just worrying about you, Leo" Vince sighed and kept petting his hair, "it's a long trip..."

Yes, six long hours and only one had passed. Just the thought that he still had five more hours of a car trip made his stomach turn unpleasantly, "please just punch me really hard..."

Vince chuckled, while Lucas pouted, "I don't think a concussion is really gonna help you on terms of feeling queasy, kiddo."

Leo chose to ignore the kiddo, just this once. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, into Vince's touch, "I'll just try to stay really still."

And he tried. He almost managed, pushing down the nausea for several minutes, letting out the tiniest burps that kept rolling up and tickling his throat, but bringing no real relief.

The car was silent now, the radio turned off and it was so quiet that all three guys could hear the rolling and churning of Leo's stomach. A gurgle made him cradle his belly and swallow in the acid tickling the back of his throat.

"Leo..."

"I'm- I'm fine..." he grumbled, getting a hand under his shirt and squeezing his tummy with his fingers. He burped, this one a real belch and felt something frothy claw its way up, "Ow..." he dizzily grabbed the bag in his lap, trying to get it open.

"Here, here" Vince reached in, despite the fact he was too big to keep squeezing himself in the tiny space between passenger and driver. He held up the bag for Leo, who grabbed it with both hands, leaning over it and trying not to puke.

He couldn't force his mouth to close, drool hit the plastic and he groaned loudly, no longer caring if he was embarrassing himself. Leo had the faint idea that Lucas and Vince were speaking about him, but he wasn’t sure what was being said, all that mattered was the growing sensation of being squeezed from his middle-

“UUURkk” he heaved and almost lost his grip on the bag. Vince’s hand cupped his forehead, keeping his head and aim steady and Leo gagged again, bringing up all of the remnants of his breakfast in one large gush that simply didn’t stop. Probably his dinner too.

 Oatmeal was the worst coming up, he decided, coughing and trying to get rid of the flakes in his throat, which kept triggering his gag reflex - He coughed up another torrent of liquid and the bag got heavy enough to sit on his lap and causing him to heave again, out of sheer disgust. 

“You’re empty” Vince was saying gently, “Leo, you’re empty, breathe.”

“Can’t” he gasped, eyes squeezed shut, “it’s in my thr-” he retched again and finally dislodged the little flakes which were making everything worse.

Leo’s hands trembled and he started to lower them, with the bag, only to feel Vince let go of his head to grab at it before all the vomit spilled over. He bunched it closed in one hand and Leo pressed his forehead to the car door. The wind was welcome against his face, wiping away the smell of puke that was making his stomach roil more.

“Leo?”

“I’m fine...” he mumbled dizzily, only for his shoulder to hitch and a small mouthful of puke to land on his shirt, “oh no...”

He heard Vince cursing something in italian, but Leo felt exhausted... And so queasy still, he couldn’t force himself to pay attention.

“Gonna be sick”

“You don’t have anything else to bring up, kiddo” Lucas said, only for Vince to snort.

“Don’t challenge him” Vince warned, holding the bag with one hand cupping Leo’s cheek with the other, “we need to stop, Luke, get a new bag, some napkins... Leo, hey,” he patted his cheek gently “stay in the land of the living.”

“I’m here” Leo turned his face, despite the droplets of puke clinging to his chin and buried his nose and eyes in Vince’s large palm, trying to block everything. He wanted the world to stop fucking twirling.

His belly felt like it was filled with liquid still, sloshing from side to side and he was so dizzy... His mouth watered and he groaned, gagging in Vince’s palm.

“Luke!”

“I’m pulling over, calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Vince scoffed and then the entire world came to a halt, chill air flooded the car as suddenly Leo was tipped forward, just as another rush of vomit came out of his mouth.

It stung his throat and nose, bile and water, nothing more. He hung awkwardly, half outside the car, half in and whined, unable to get it together.

“Okay” Lucas was saying, holding him put, “alright, new plan...” 

“Yeah?” Vince sounded eager to listen to the new plan. There was a beat of silence, interrupted only by Leo, retching again.

“Uhm,” Lucas sighed, “maybe get him lying down in the back, I’ll try to find a new bag and we can drive to a motel. There’s no way we’re making to New York with him in this state...”

“Noo” Leo whined,grabbing the door to force himself to sit up, “we’ll miss the concert.”

“Fuck the concert,” Lucas rolled his eyes, “who cares? Leo, you’re scari-”

“I care” Leo clenched his jaw, and yes he did. It hadn’t been cheap or easy to get the ticket, he was not Lucas Atwood who just got tickets sent to his household. He cared a fucking lot actually, “please.”

Vince groaned, “Lucas don’t fall for his puppy eyes.”

“Please” Leo repeated, turning to look at Vince, who immediately sighed, nodding his head.

“You’ll get yourself killed, kid.”

“I’m fine” Leo shook his head, before gagging softly “Well, I will be fine... Let’s not tell Jonah about this.”

“Lets” both boys agreed.  

[dhalsimxhonda]

HONSIM : LATE FOR BED

SUMMARY … edmond waits for dhalsim … getting home late isn’t good when it comes to trust, but it’s good for pleasures .

CW … vaginal sex, nipple play, riding, orgasm, smoking (mentions of lung cancer), cursing, boypussy .

CHARACTERS … edmond honda and dhalsim .

AU … singer x film maker au

A/N … just going to post this from ao3 as a an apology for not posting often .

edmond lightened his cigarette after wearing his bathrobe, with impatience in his eyes. everything the japanese man wanted was nothing but spending time with his husband. why so late? he’s supposed to be in bed. why is it so stupid to smoke before bedtime? sure, he brushed his hair and everything. but waiting for his husband to return home safely is a different story. all that edmond wanted was to see his face. but all the things dhalsim would say, “i’ll be home tonight at twenty-three” would always be a lie.

he was supposed to stop smoking after dhalsim told him it was not good for his lungs. but sure, honda seemed to harm himself to forget about the lies spoken in his husband’s mouth.

“i’m home, darling.” the familiar voice came as edmond easily recognized. oh, he thought. it’s dhalsim. he already heard the door getting locked and the keys placed on the kitchen counter.

the old man came through the room quickly as edmond blew his smoke. dhalsim sighed and immediately snatched the cigarette. “what did i tell you about smoking? you could get lung cancer.”

edmond sighed. “i’m smoking because i’m waiting for ya. mind tellin’ me why ya came late again?” dhalsim looked at himself from the mirror as he played the jukebox. “i had a drink while thinking of you. all men and women are so boring… you should’ve come with me.”

“anything you want to ponder about?” edmond asked as the singer took his jewelry and earrings off. “nothing important. just tequila. any films as of recently?” dhalsim turned his head around. “nah,” the japanese replied. “i’ve been waiting for ya to come. thought of filming how beautiful ya are without those clothes.”

as dhalsim hummed the music in response, he took his rings off. “dirty brain? unhinged?” he asked. “naughty man…”

edmond smirked and stood off the bed while he walked closer to dhalsim. “show me yer voice, it makes me horny...” he looked into dhalsim’s eyes with the look of pleading to take off his clothes. the singer nodded and brushed edmond’s wet hair with his fingers, continuing to hum the song from the jukebox. as the japanese unbuttoned dhalsim’s silk shirt and jeans, he began to kiss dhalsim’s nipples with no hesitation.

“h-honda…” dhalsim pleaded while humming his song as the japanese kept sucking on those small boobs that made the singer tingle. he moaned with his lips quivering and body trembling from the cold air conditioning. it’s time to put on a good show, he thought and stopped kissing his husband’s nipples with saliva running like a bridge. “ride onto my pussy until you can’t sing anymore.”

dhalsim looked and quickly took off his husband’s bathrobe as the japanese man divorced his legs. such good views, white eyes, and brown eyes stuck on each other. such naughty eyes they got to meet at every step. dhalsim placed his hands onto edmond’s pussy lips carefully to make sure where to put himself and frot. “whenever you’re ready.” edmond spoke.

after getting on top of his vulva lips, dhalsim let out his beautiful hums again while beginning to thrust him. the singer kept his gaze on his husband, even if he would rather close his eyes and sing or moan like a pathetic old man.

“sing for me, dhalsim.” edmond commanded as the yoga master listened and let out his moanings while continuously frotting his husband…

edmond still listened to the melody from dhalsim’s pleasuring lips. the lustful singing gets louder as the japanese man rests his hands on his husband’s skin. he smirked with the blush on his cheeks, making dhalsim feel good. “sing.”

edmond continued his thrusting with dhalsim. “sing for me, slut.” he recalled as the singer rasped and sang with his mind and heart out. the japanese rests his head on the pillows, blushing heavily with the grunts of his trembling lips. astonishing voice, dhalsim’s humming and moans were like edmond’s music. “s-sing for me, my dhalsim.” the japanese breathed.

dhalsim moaned his husband’s name, still thrusting with his husband’s pussy like a good man. “ah, honda..” edmond arched his back softly, carefully caressing dhalsim’s thighs. “you’re a natural, dhalsim…” he moaned softly. “don’t ya wanna cum with me?”

“fuck, just keep going, edmond! call me every word you think…” dhalsim breathed. “we’re not done singing together.”

the singer rode his husband’s clitoris, circularly thrusting as he kept moaning his husband’s name. “what a pathetic man. it’s what he deserves.” edmond gripped dhalsim’s hips tighter, leaving scratched marks on his fingers. such a bruise that dhalsim wanted all along. he’ll get the japanese man going whenever he wants to. dhalsim made edmond his.

“i’ll forever make you mine, dhalsim-kun.” edmond’s lips quavered, eyes rolled back as his husband continuously moaned his name. “sing me that one melody again.”

“i’m your property, darling.”

“damn right.”

all gentle assurance, keeping dhalsim in hold with his orgasm, the japanese man could hardly wait and do it together. the singer cried out one last time, with pleasure and lost on reality. he’s thinking of his husband more than worrying about a single damn thing about the singing rehearsals.

“scream for me, dhalsim.”

the two of them gave their one last thrust, reaching their climax together, cumming onto each other’s pussy. dhalsim huffed, as his vision turned black, collapsing onto his husband’s body. edmond sighed as he swallowed his saliva, remaining to touch his singer’s thighs.

“you know how to sing for me, dhalsim-kun. why must hide it from me?”

the singer sighed and caressed the japanese man’s cheeks. “because it’s a terrible secret.” dhalsim smiled as edmond kissed his husband’s forehead… whether honda thinks that it’s a terrible secret or not, feeling dumbfounded with a secret? over a career?

but he decided that it was better off to not question it and play it off that he didn’t hear about it.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

006.   a funhouse’s room of mirrors .

For Reiji or perhaps Laito?

A/N: well, I know you're a Reiji stan but let's give the spotlight to Laito in the meantime lol

mirror, mirror on the wall, who am I facing, after all? || laito (feat. ayato and kanato)

You never thought there was something weird in this room. After all, it was just a room filled with mirrors that provide distorted reflections—some making you smaller than you appear to be while there are others that emphasized one of your body parts.

But when you had your fill of fun with your distorted reflection, one of them suddenly smiled—no. It wasn't a smile. A smile is supposed to be genuine and with no hint of malice. This one had every evil intention that you've perfectly crafted on your prey. A smile that says, "Oh, darling, you are so going to get what you paid for."

You decided not to mind the reflection and let it get to you. This was another one of the funhouse's magic tricks of getting into your brain and ensuring you would be left confused and questioning how the hell this all happened.

But before you could walk far, the reflection said, "How boring. To think a fake pervert like you could give us some entertainment."

Now that made you stop. For all intelligence you have, your pride tops stronger than that. To hell with knowledge and indifference. No one gets to tell you you're a fake pervert.

Even if it's yourself.

"Excuse me?" you emphasized in a mocking tone. "You're the ones who are fake."

"That isn't true," chided the other reflection, the one with a bigger stomach but small thin legs, "You think that little erotic charade of yours will protect you."

The tiny reflection, the one with a small body cackled, "What? This fucker thought it will protect him? Is he sick or something?"

And soon, all reflections started to laugh at you. It was as if you were the darkest comedy they have seen. As if you were a laughable sorry ass of a vampire.

You frowned at that, your brow raising in a challenging manner.

"I. Am. Not. A. Fake. One," you defended (well, it wasn't your first time doing this so who are you kidding, Sakamaki Laito?)

But they only laughed at you. Oh, you poor, poor thing. You think they would be fazed because you're a vampire prince and can take down an enemy by breaking down their emotional defenses? Sakamaki Laito, don't make these reflections laugh. They have no feelings.

Just like you.

Yes. Just like you.

"Is it true you tried to kill me?" the familiar voice of young Ayato sounded in the room, making you turn around to see a kid version of your older brother stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

You only smiled. "Now, why would I do that, Ayato-ku—"

"Is my singing voice not to your liking?" another familiar voice of young Kanato asked, his presence in the mirror beside Ayato making him known.

You were confused. First, your reflections. Now, you're seeing your brothers' younger selves. "I—"

"What's the matter, Sakamaki Laito? Cat got your tongue?" your reflections collectively asked you, their voices ranging from low to high pitch and distorted. "You're a man of many words. You should put them to good use."

"Why do you hate me?!" Ayato half-yelled at you, stomping his feet as if to get your attention. "What did I do to you?"

"You weren't there, Laito," Kanato reminded, purple eyes hollow and empty. "I had to watch them all, and you two... you left me to fend on my own."

"Then what exactly do you want me to do?!" you asked, frustrated that they would put the blame on you. "You two didn't know what it's like..." memories come rushing in, that vile person touching you in ways you couldn't even fathom, (oh, fuck, you can even puke right now in disgust) "you two didn't even get to taste how it felt—"

The Ayato in the mirror jumped out, lunging straight at you to choke your neck. His looks could kill you. He'll probably snap your neck right now.

"Are you telling me your suffering is greater than ours?"

Kanato also jumped out from the mirror, his face donning an expression that says: "So, this is what's been on your mind all along."

"I had to suffer those nightmares, Ayato-kun!" you defended, gripping his hands around your neck so you could breathe, only for him to hold them tighter. "You and Kanato had the advantage! You two have everything. Especially you! You and your pure heart and kindness."

Ayato stopped at that, the reflections on the mirror awaiting his next response. The next thing, Kanato punched you in the face, and all the distorted reflections started coming onto you, surrounding you as if you were facing the ultimate judgment in this funhouse.

They will be the end of you.

Your madness and envy will kill the last fucking shit out of you.

Afterward, they turned into shadows, mouths wide open as they cackle at the poor excuse of a fake pervert like you. How dare you? You have no right. All of them, and this room, and you—all of them will disappear and no one will know.

Fascinating, isn't it—

"Oi Laito!" Ayato called his attention, confused as to why Laito had been standing in front of a distorted reflection for a long time. "Earth to Laito!"

Laito was startled, blinking twice to check if he was seeing things right. So he was just in this mirror room... like nothing happened to him. No one was choking him to death or laughing at him.

It was just his imagination.

"Laito, hurry up or we're going to leave you," Kanato called his attention, hugging Teddy to his chest as he stuffs his face on it.

"Yeah!" Ayato agreed. "I saw a takoyaki stall near here. We should stop by there."

Kanato made a wrenching face in disgust. "Ayato, we've been having takoyaki since earlier."

The redhead clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Oh, shut up! I am not going to that pinky swirly sweet wonderland of yours."

"Hey—"

Laito clapped his hands to stop the two from arguing. "Enough of that, you two! We should just eat takoyaki first, then we could stop by a nearby desserts shop to buy some sweets on our way."

Seeing as the two seemingly had a silent truce, the triplets started to walk out of the mirror room, with Laito having an expression of relief.

It was just his imagination, right?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Right.

[colorfullfalls]

Soulmates?

In a world where you can see your soulmate’s life while you are asleep, somehow Y/n gets Danny Wagner as her soulmate. Easy for her to scope out, but how the hell was he supposed to find her?

Y/n fell asleep and she got to witness a greta van fleet concert. She got to witness the drum kit from the very point of view of Daniel Wagner. Fans screamed in excitement as the covering dropped and the concert officially began. Y/n thought how amazing it was when she went to the last concert. The music was amazing and so was the feeling of it all. Yet, she left feeling really disappointed. 

 She had went with the hope of being able to meet Daniel and have that soulmate magical moment. He would realize it was her and that they were destined to be. But instead he did shots with the people in the front and then went off stage to not be seen again. 

How was she supposed to get through to him when there were so many prettier fans? 

She was frustrated with having him as a soulmate. He’s a wonderful and talented man, but he was difficult to connect with. Stupid beautiful man. 

At the same time she heard him talk about soulmates before and knew that he took them very seriously. He was excited to meet her like she was him. She was desperate to finally see him and him recognize her.

Y/n had one more concert to get through to meet Daniel. She had a few hours before she had to go so she decided to go get coffee. Ordering and grabbing her own coffee went well, but someone bumped into her which caused their drink to spill on her arm. Their very hot drink actually burned her, causing a red mark to appear on her arm. 

She wiped off the drink and just ignored the pain of it. 

She met up with her best friend who knew about Danny being her soulmate, the only person who knew. Not many people would believe her if she said a rockstar was her soulmate. Many people could claim that. But Y/N was able to show her best friend Ellie by saying that Danny was wearing a certain outfit and the next day he posted it. 

Ellie about shit herself when she looked at the post to see that her best friend described that exact outfit to a T. 

“You will meet him tonight, I am telling you.” Ellie declared. 

“You said that last time man, there's no way I am gonna magically bump into him. He has very defining moments that proves who he is. Me? I just like exist. He isn’t gonna be able to pin point me from any other fan. Its a bunch of bullshit.” 

Ellie laughed, “Soulmates are special, he will know you the moment he sees you.” 

“Maybe if my boobs were out and he saw the tattoo but besides that..” 

“OH my god, that's it! Wear a low cut shirt so that he can see it. I mean surely he would know it from when you look in the mirror or shower.” Ellie said. The thing about the soulmates is that if they look in the mirror the face is blurred. It was an annoying condition but it was meant to make you search for your soulmate more rather than just being able to see. 

“What, so boobs out?” Y/n asked. 

“Hell yeah, boobs out. And if you don't meet Danny maybe someone will make out with you.” Ellie said, making Y/n snort.. 

Two hours later and they were in the pit of the venue singing their hearts out. Y/n felt nervous being so close to Danny. She watched him to mundane things when she was asleep like him sorting socks and playing cards with Sam. But on stage he was a fucking rock star and she thought he looked larger than life. 

Josh was dancing around singing at the top of his lungs during Light My Love yet all Y/n could think about was how good Danny looked while playing drums. He was so in his own world. During her sleep she witnessed him talking about lucky he was to be living his dream and touring with his brothers. 

She glanced down at Jake and then looked back at Danny to see him already looking at her. He offered her a breath taking smile as they finished up the song. She wondered if he saw her tattoo or was just smiling at another fan of his. Light my Love was the last song and she was waiting for a chance to see him. But he didn’t even take shots like he normally does, he booked it off the stage. 

Disappointment flooded Y/n, she was never going to get to meet him. She grabbed Ellie ans together they made their way to the cars to leave. Y/n felt doom at the fact that she didn’t get to meet Danny. She felt a bit hopeless.

They found a bar to get a drink at, Ellie going on about how soulmates are meant to meet and how she would meet Danny one way or another. It was encouraging but Y/n didn’t really wanna hear it at the moment, feeling too discouraged.

She wondered if he even noticed her. He was danny Wagner and she was just a girl. Would he be proud of her or like bummed out?

The bar door opened and she lazily peered over to see who came in. Maybe a cute guy did come and she could at least make out with someone since she missed out on meeting her soulmate today. Her eyes widened as she realized who just walked in.

It was Danny and Sam. Her heart beat raced as she saw them look around for a seat. She turned around and put her head down. She was suddenly really nervous. She mumbled about having to go to the bathroom before she got up and walked away.

She almost made it to the bathroom when she sensed someone behind her. She glanced back to see the beautiful man she saw in her dreams. He gave her a breathtaking smile before walking closer to stand right in front of her, almost pushing her into the wall.

“Did you not think I wouldn’t notice you?” He asked, eyes looking all over her face, “You’re eyes are more beautiful than I could have imagined.” He mumbled, not being able to look away.

She blushed, slinking more into the wall, “I didn’t know if you would considering how many people are at your concerts,” she shyly said.

He chuckled, “they’re not my soulmate, they don’t matter as much. I’d know that tattoo anywhere,” he said, eyes trailing down to her chest- making her blush even more. The tattoo was unique. It was a drawing of an eye as a planet but the planet’s ring was completely shaded black. Something that she had drawn in high school and just fell in love with.

“Are you saying you look at my boobs a lot?” She joked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shrugging boyishly, “Let’s just say my eyes wonder from time to time when it comes to you. Not my fault that you’re so stunning.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush like a fool.” She said, shaking her head and looking away in embarrassment. Danny finally noticed her and he was laying the flirting on thick. She didn’t expect him to be so forward.

“Maybe I think you look cute when you blush,” he lowly said, stepping closer so that his chest was against hers. She could feel how warm he was against her own skin and she felt butterflies in her stomach from his close proximity, “I’ve been hoping I’d meet you for years. Hiding from me?” He asked, grabbing her chin in his hand delicately, making her melt.

She shook her head no, “I came to a bunch of concerts” she admitted.

He leaned forward, ghosting his lips over hers, “You are more perfect than I could have hoped, sweetheart.”

His lips slotted against hers, soft lips opening up her mouth. She melted into the kiss as he wrapped his arm around her midsection pulling her close to him as he deepened the kiss. She sighed when he pulled away, disappointed that it was done so quick.

“We have the rest of our lives to kiss, let me buy you a drink.” He said, kissing her forehead and pulling her to the bar.

She thanked her lucky stars that he found her.

[septembersghost]

Folie a deux!

my favorite lyric: DIFFICULT actually, but i forever have strong feelings about: so boycott love/detox just to retox/and i'd promise you anything for another shot at life/and perfect boys with their perfect lives/nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy. also: i wanna scream "i love you" from the top of my lungs/but i'm afraid that someone else will hear me

my favorite song: i have love that cannot be explained for she's my winona and tiffany blews, but it still might be disloyal order of water buffaloes. the whole record though! the whole thiiiiiing

the song that makes me cry: what a catch, donnie

the song that’s a fucking bop: I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK AS LONG AS IT'S ABOUT ME THE BEST OF US CAN FIND HAPPINESS IN MISERY

the song i most dislike/least love: hmmm, america's suitehearts maybe? but it's another case of it's still a great song and i never skip it, because folie is skipless!

honorable mention to pavlove too because it's a not as well known bonus track, but i love it so much. i'm the invisible man who can't stop staring at the mirror!

[icebear4president]

Alfred as y/n because he’s so quirky✨This hurt so much to write, I almost cried.

I woke to my alarm clock playing my favorite song, 'Fight Song'. I walked over to my mirror and stared at myself. I had a muscular frame, bright golden hair, and piercing blue orbs. I wish I wasn't soo ugly. I'm not like other guys, you see.

I threw on my favorite jacket and tight jeans that showed off my thicc ass. I tried to put my blonde-golden hair into a bun, but my hair was too short. I blinked, tears swimming in my sparkling blue orbs. Why was my life so horrible?

As I walked to the UN building, I remembered when my father went to get chocolate milk, then got hit by a train and landed on a land mine. My mother and goldfish died in a plane crash 07.4 seconds later. I almost started crying again before I realized I didn't have parents or a goldfish.

I hate world meetings because everyone was soo fake and I would never be able to fit in with them. They all wear fancy clothes and tons of makeup, while I wear jeans and sweatshirts and only apply lip gloss. I'm not like the rest of them, I'm quirky.

As I headed inside the building, I slammed into a 9'7 body and fell backwards on my toned ass. Why must I be so clumsy? 

“S-s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry,” I stuttered.

"You better be," the voice snarled. I looked up and stared at the man. It was Ivan, my uwu baka crush. He was also a vampire, and so sexy that all the girls and guys wanted him. Except for me because I'm different.

"O-o-o-o-o-okay," I whimpered, even though I could totally beat him in a fight if I wanted to. Ivan shoved me against the wall, intense violet orbs staring at me. I shivered because this was hot and totally not textbook red flag at all.

"Just remember I will always be watching you," he purred, his tongue rubbing against his sexy vampire teeth.

"W-w-w-w-w-w-w-what do y-y-y-y-y-y- you mean?" I gasped.

"I own this public building that multiple people use, and that means I own you," he hissed. He got off me and walked away.

I got up and ran away, falling down twenty flights of stairs, tears falling from my electrifying blue orbs. I couldn't believe this was happening to me, so I ran to the roof. I grabbed the edge of the railing and starting singing.

"This is my fight song, take back my life song," I sang at the top of my lungs, because I'm not normal, I'm quirky.

"Wow..." I heard a voice behind me and saw a handsome guy standing behind me. He had blonde hair and emerald green orbs. 

"You sounded amazing," he said. "T-t-t-t-thanks," I stuttered.

"I'm Arthur, alpha of the local werewolf pack," he said. "I'm Alfred," I said back.

"I know we just met 17.76 seconds ago, but do you want to come to a party I'm throwing tonight later?," he asked? "O-o-o-course, I said.

"Great, see you then," he said, walking away.

I couldn't believe this! I walked to the stairs, however, I tripped and crashed down 30 floors. I got up completely unscathed, because my thiccness saved me. I was going to a party. I wonder if my uwu baka crush would be there.

But Alfred was so ugly everyone at the party died. The end.

(I’m so sorry, please don’t kick me out the fandom)

[stiltonbasket]

Omg idk if ur still taking asks for the soulmate au where u know when ur soulmate laughs, but I would love some Wangxian figuring out that their soulmates and laughing at how stupid they are!! I don’t think it has been done before, but if it has maybe just some Wangxian fluff after they figure out they’re soulmates? Thanks xx

"No wonder I couldn't look away from you at the Cloud Recesses," Wei Wuxian sniffles, wiping his eyes on Lan Zhan's shoulder. "I've been missing you all my life."

Lan Zhan hugs him even tighter, as if he were trying to squash their two bodies into one to keep them from ever being parted again, and kisses the top of Wei Wuxian's forehead. "The fault was mine, beloved. I felt every moment of your joy from the day you were born, and I knew my zhiyin was my match in strength and almost exactly my age. Who else could it have been but you?”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “You knew how old I was?” he asks wetly. “How, Lan Zhan?”

“When I was a baby, Shufu was able to tell the difference between my own laughter and the kind that mirrored yours. He noticed me mirroring your laughter shortly after my first birthday, so he guessed that my soulmate must have been only a little younger than I was.”

“So far back as that!” Wei Wuxian wails. “Lan Zhan, my love—!”

“I was heartbroken when I met you, and saw you with that mourning sash around your waist,” Lan Zhan breathes, taking Wei Wuxian’s face between his hands and staring so deeply into his eyes that he feels as if he might faint. “Heartbroken for you, and more so for myself. I wanted you to be mine.”

“Oh!”

Wei Wuxian is crying now, sobbing onto Lan Zhan’s neck like a child. “I stopped mourning when you came to me, sweetheart. I spent almost ten years in mourning, and that night we first crossed swords in the Cloud Recesses, it felt as if my heart had woken up again. Did you know that, my darling?”

“Yes. Yes!” whispers Lan Zhan. “I would have forsaken my fated one for you, if we were not bonded. If I met my mingding zhiren, and we recognized one another, I would have begged forgiveness on my knees, but I could never have sworn myself to them. Never!”

He chokes and bursts into laughter, and Wei Wuxian feels the ring of it low in his belly, burning like a little white star against Mo Xuanyu’s golden core.

“I was a fool, qinai. How much I made you suffer! I should have known!”

Wei Wuxian nuzzles his cheek, smiling through his tears. “Me, too! Aiyah, fujun, if you had laughed in front of me just once before my jindan went, then perhaps...”

At that, Lan Zhan leans down and kisses him full on the mouth, leaving Wei Wuxian’s poor singed legs too weak to support him. “Call me fujun again, Wei Ying,” he murmurs, “and I will not be made responsible for whatever I do next.”

Wei Wuxian pouts, batting half-heartedly at Lan Zhan’s arm even as his lips tilt upward, seeking his beloved’s soft face all over again. “You won’t take responsibility for your niang zi?” he teases, running a sweat-damp finger down his zhiji’s cheek. “You lived with me for a year without the benefit of marriage, took such liberties with me in the middle of a dusty road where anyone could find us, and you even—”

“A-Yuan lived with us back then,” Lan Zhan reminds him, “and I would never have dared cross lines with you before we took our bows. But regarding the present, what liberties have I taken? Did you not wish to be kissed?”

“Well, maybe I didn’t! You didn’t ask me, so how could you know?”

“En, you are right. I wouldn’t.”

His eyes darken further still, ripping a shallow, gasping breath from Wei Wuxian’s lungs as he presses them back against a sturdy tree, securing Wei Wuxian’s quivering body between the trunk and his own warm chest.

“Wei Ying?” he hums, setting Wei Wuxian’s ears aflame. “May I kiss you?”

“Oh, you impossible man! Yes!” Wei Wuxian shouts; but the shout is a shout of laughter, vibrating between them like a sunbeam dancing endlessly between a pair of mirrors until Wei Wuxian starts crying again.

“Where to now?” he asks at last, after Lan Zhan mops the tears away with his own silver-trimmed sleeves. “What about Zewu-jun and Jingyi? And our A-Yuan?”

“A-Yuan will be safe with Wen Ning, and Brother and A-Yi have one another to confide in. Nie Huaisang will look after them both until we see them again.”

“Then what about us?”

“We can go wherever you like, my love. I would follow you to the ends of the earth, if you ever wanted to see them.”

So they go, spending the next few days and nights making up for a week’s worth of lost sleep, and leaving Yunping for the wild lands between Yunmeng and Baling when they feel rested enough to travel again.

It is as blissful a honeymoon as the one Wei Wuxian used to dream of before his death, for Lan Zhan took him to husband at the first roadside temple they found, where they made their bows to heaven and earth with a wizened old monk as witness; and then, after five honey-sweet fortnights spent in near-total seclusion, Wei Wuxian packs up his meager belongings and follows his new husband back to the Cloud Recesses.

Zewu-jun greets them at the top of the great stair leading into the compound, looking much healthier than he was when they parted in Yunping. He embraces Wei Wuxian before he can try to bow, calling him difu and A-Xian and Xian-didi until Lan Zhan blushes and pulls Wei Wuxian out of the Lanshi, which is when Lan Qiren appears to offer his congratulations.

“Three bows in a temple do not a marriage make,” he scolds, after Wei Wuxian assured him that Lan Zhan had refused to break the sect precept about promiscuity, not even daring to speak of love-making until they were well and truly wed. “It is some comfort that you took the bows, but there must be a wedding banquet and a proper ceremony here in the bridegroom’s household before the sect will consider you husband and wife.”

He glares at Wei Wuxian from the corner of his eye, reminding him so much of a little Lan Zhan that he smothers a grin in his collar. “I don’t suppose you two would agree to live apart until the wedding day? This month is an auspicious one, so Xichen and I can have it arranged in the next three weeks.”

“I would rather not, Shufu,” Lan Zhan says. “We will honor any wedding arrangements you and Xiongzhang choose, but I have married my beloved sixteen years later than I hoped to, and now all I desire is a peaceful home and a shared hearth with Wei Ying at my side.”

Lan-xiansheng clears his throat. “Well, I can’t argue with that,” he says gruffly. “Go on then, A-Zhan. Don’t let this old uncle keep you.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and flaps back into the Lanshi, ringing the bell for afternoon classes until a gaggle of infant disciples comes toddling up the path.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes grow damp at the sight of them, for it seems like only yesterday that A-Yuan was this small, clinging to his hands and refusing to walk when Lan Zhan brought him down to the market in Yiling; but then he remembers that Lan Zhan is beside him, his partner in all things, and that Lan Zhan wants to raise another little one as badly as Wei Wuxian does.

“Someday,” Lan Zhan vows, kissing the back of his hand. “I promised you, Wei Ying.”

Someday is not so far away, for the Jingshi will be home to a pepper-loving whirlwind of a baby within the next two years, and Wei Wuxian, once called only Wei Ying, and A-Die, will soon become A-Niang. But for now, the house is quiet and still, and Wei Wuxian and his dear Lan Zhan are the only ones in it.

There is water boiling on the stove for tea, and white rice simmering in a cauldron for porridge. Someone even filled the cottage with fresh flowers before they arrived, in anticipation of Hanguang-jun’s imminent return: and best of all, there are two pairs of quilted slippers set beside the bed, which has been freshly made up with clean sheets and blankets. 

“Well!” Wei Wuxian whispers, leaning over to brush his lips over Lan Zhan’s forehead.

“I can hardly believe it, sweetheart. We’re home!”

[apoemaday]

I Sing the Body Electric; Especially When My Power Is Out

by Andrea Gibson

This is my body I have weather veins They’re especially sensitive to dust storms and hurricanes When I’m nervous my teeth chatter like a wheelbarrow collecting rain I am rusty when I talk--it is the storm in me

The doctor said some day I might not be able to walk It’s in my blood like the iron My mother is as tough as nails, she held herself together The day she could no longer hold my niece she said “Our kneecaps are our prayer beds Everyone can walk farther on their kneecaps than they can on their feet”

This is my heartbeat Like yours, it is a hatchet It can build a house, or tear one down My mouth is a fire escape The words coming out don’t care that they are naked There is something burning in here When it burns, I hold my own shell to my ear Listen for the parade when I was seven The man who played the bagpipes wore a skirt He was from Scotland--I wanted to move there Wanted my spine to be the spine of an unpublished book My fate, the first and last page

The day my ribcage became monkey bars For a girl hanging on my every word They said “you are not allowed to love her” Tried to take me by the throat And teach me I was not a boy I had to unlearn their prison speak Refuse to make wishes on the star on the sheriff’s chest I started wishes on the stars in the sky instead

I said to the the sun “Tell me about the big bang” The sun said “it hurts to become”

I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue And whisper bless your heart every chance I get So my family tree can be sure I have not left You do not have to leave to arrive I am learning this slowly

So sometimes when I look in the mirror My eyes look like the holes in the shoe of the shoe shine man My hands are busy on the wrong things Some days, I call my arms wings While my head is in the clouds

It will take me a few more years to learn Flying is not pushing away the ground Safety is not always safe You can find one on every gun I am aiming to do better

This is my body My exhaustion pipe will never pass inspection And still my lungs know how to breathe Like a burning map Every time I get lost behind the curtain of her hair You can find me by the window Following my past to a trail of blood In the snow

The night I opened my veins The doctor who stitched me up asked me if I did it for attention For the record, if you have ever done anything for attention, This poem is attention Title it with your name It will scour the city bridge every night You stand kicking at your shadow Staring at the river It does not want to find your body Doing anything but loving what it loves So love what you love

Say this is my body It is no ones but mine This is my nervous system My wanting blood My half tamed addictions My tongue, tied up like a ball of Christmas lights If you put a star on the top of my tree, Make sure it’s a star that fell Make sure it hit bottom like a tambourine Cause all these words are stories

For the staircase to the top of my lungs Where I sing what hurts And the echo comes back Bless your heart Bless your body Bless your holy kneecaps They are so smart You are so full of rain There is so much growing Hallelujah to your weather veins Hallelujah to the ache To the pull To the fall To the pain Hallelujah To the grace And the body and every cell of us all

[leiawritesstories]

The Red Dress

Well. This has been in the works for....some time now. And it is finally time to share it with y’all. Inspired by the song “Night Changes” by One Direction. 

Word count: ~10.8k 

Warnings: language, teenage flirting, SMUT, teenage pregnancy, brief non-graphic descriptions of birth, arguing, ANGST. RATED M FOR MATURE!!!

so many thanks to @morganofthewildfire for her angst advice!! it was so very helpful in this process! 

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

“Have fun, Evie!” Aelin called from the front porch, watching her sixteen-year-old daughter climb into her best friend’s car. “Be back by one, okay?”

“I will!” Evalin Galathynius blew her mother a kiss. “Let’s go, Sana,” she muttered to the driver. “I can’t risk Mom seeing me change.”

Sana Whitethorn snickered and reversed out of the driveway. “You got it, Evs.”

Safely out of her neighborhood, Evie tugged off her knee-length denim skirt, slipping the silky red camisole dress she’d found buried in the back of her mom’s closet on over her cropped white tee. Shaking her hair free from its messy bun, she fluffed her blonde waves, a few shades lighter than her mother’s golden, grabbed a tube of bright red lipstick from her mini backpack, applied it to her lips. Sana wiggled her brows in the rearview mirror. 

“Hot damn, Evs, you trying to catch someone’s attention?”

Evie flushed. “Shut up, Sana.”

“Callan Ilnair, then?”

“Fuck, Sana, you know me too well,” Evie groaned, flopping back against her seat. 

“I’m just trying to help you catch your man, Evs.” Sana parked the lot, pulling up next to another friend’s car, and fluffed her silvery-blonde hair in the rearview mirror. Evie hopped out of the car and headed for the cluster of people standing under the bright lights. 

Half an hour later, she found herself in Cal Ilnair’s convertible, the roof down, speeding along the coast highway and singing at the tops of their lungs, the moonlight gilding the strands of her hair. She yelled out the chorus, catching Cal’s eye--and his smile--grinning from the adrenaline pumping through her blood. Cal pulled into a parking lot, parked, hopped out, and like a true gentleman, opened Evie’s door for her. She almost slipped in the sand piled on the asphalt, and Cal grabbed her hand. 

“Easy, Evie.” 

She steadied herself, gripping his hand. “Thanks.” Her balance regained, she loosened her grasp, but neither of them pulled away. Evie looked at him, her turquoise eyes meeting his bright hazel ones, and smiled, shyly. 

Cal was blushing, though he tried to hide it. “C’mon,” he encouraged, tugging her towards the shore. Laughing, Evie followed him. Seize the chance while you have it, Galathynius, she told herself. 

They ended up sprawled on a blanket Cal had brought, watching the stars in the sky and the waves of the Pacific, talking and joking. Evie found it so easy to talk to Cal, especially once she found out how similar of tastes they had in books and movies. 

“No fucking way! You read all of them?”

“All twelve,” Cal confirmed, “and I started watching the Netflix series just last month.”

“Oh gods,” Evie groaned, “the series sucks ass.”

“It really fucking does. I mean, they couldn’t even bother to cast half the characters right, and none of them have any chemistry!”

“I would never have guessed you’re a sappy-YA-lit guy, Cal.”

“Can you blame me? Enemies to steamy lovers is one of my favorite tropes,” he smirked. 

Evie gaped, then broke into peals of helpless laughter, falling onto her back. “Oh my god,” she wheezed, “this is too perfect.” As she calmed herself, she realized she’d all but fallen against Cal, and quickly sat up, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.

He chuckled. “’S’okay, I won’t bite, Evie.”

Blushing a bit, she raised her brows. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He patted the blanket right next to him. “C’mere.”

~

Callan Ilnair had harbored a massive crush on Evie Galathynius for at least a year, hiding his emotions behind a snarky, carefree façade. He had a tough-guy reputation to uphold, after all--how could he let the bros know he secretly loved smutty books and romances and watching and either loving or shitting on the TV adaptations of his beloved books. 

No doubt he’d inherited his love of those books from his mother. Nesta Archeron-Ilnair did love herself a good steamy romance.

He’d fallen for Evalin Galathynius--”no, no, I go by Evie”--the moment she waltzed into Ms. Lochan’s freshman biology class, a pencil tucked behind her right ear, plopped down next to Sana Whitethorn, and grumbled about how she was missing bingeing her favorite Netflix series again for this. Had known he was well and truly fucked when Ms. Lochan announced that lab partners would be assigned alphabetically by last name, and proceeded to call off the pairs, one of which was Galathynius and Ilnair. 

In true Ilnair fashion, when Evie came to sit next to him, he’d stretched out his legs, crossed his arms behind his head, and drawled “Looks like you’re stuck with me, then.”

She’d just given him a flat look. “Don’t think you’re getting out of doing your fair share of the labs.” And with that, she’d proceeded to largely ignore him for the rest of class time.

Things got better when they actually did lab experiments, Evie cracking smiles at his snide jokes and eventually falling into an easy, casual sort of friendship with him. They’d exchanged numbers after a few weeks, Cal pointing out that they needed to communicate about lab reports somehow, and their text chain ranged from Evie yelling at him to complete assignments to stupid memes to long, emotional, half-incoherent paragraphs typed out at three in the morning when one of them was having a rough night. 

Those texts were a recent development, something they’d only just started to trust each other with. Something Cal had been vulnerable enough to admit one late, late night when he was at a low point and Evie had been willing to listen. 

That was when he’d started to fall in love with her, damning himself all the way for doing so, because she was his best friend, goddammit...and also the girl of his dreams. 

Sitting there on the beach, late at night, Evie tentatively tucking herself against his side, Cal stifled the nerves threatening to make his hands shake. Calm the fuck down, Ilnair, this is not the time to shake like a middle-schooler.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Evie murmured, parroting his earlier words. “I won’t bite.” She grinned.

Cal snickered. “I’m trying my goddamn best not to get the jitters, but shit, Evie, something about you makes my heart beat twice as fast.”

“I like you too, y’know,” she admitted, bluntly. Cal goggled.

“What?!”

She snorted a laugh. “Cal, it’s blatantly obvious that you have a huge crush on me. This is me telling you I feel the same, you idiot.” She leaned into him. “Now wrap your arm around me like we both know you want to, dammit.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders, marveling at how perfectly she fit against his side, her head falling so naturally onto his shoulder. “As you wish.”

“Thank you, Westley,” Evie teased.

Cal grinned. “Literary references, the way to my heart.”

“Does that mean you’ll finally ask me out?”

“Will you say yes if I do?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well then, Evie Galathynius, can I take you on a date next Saturday?”

“Yes you may, Callan Ilnair.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a long while, watching the Pacific ebb and flow, marveling at this new turn in their relationship. At some point, Evie must have drifted off, because before she knew it, Cal was shaking her gently. 

“Evie! Evie, wake up! Fuck,” he swore softly, “it’s almost two, fuck, goddammit, we gotta get back before my parents kill me. Before your mom kills me.”

Evie jerked awake. “Two?! Fuck!” She hastily got up, shook out the blanket, and ran back to Cal’s car, hand in hand with him. 

He all but floored it driving back, cutting the hour-long drive down to forty minutes. Evie was on her phone half the time, having checked it and found a string of texts from her mother, each more frantic than the last.

>Evie, it’s almost 1, you close to home?

>Evie, I’ll leave the door unlocked, lock it when you get back.

>I hope you’re watching the time...

>Please let me know if you decided to sleep over so I don’t lose my shit.

>Evie Galathynius, where are you?

>I need an update. Now. Please.

>Evalin Alanna Galathynius, if you are not home in the next twenty minutes, I am going to track your phone.

>I mean it.

She swore and sent her mom an apology.

<I’m so sorry, Mom, we were at the beach and we lost track of time and I fell asleep and it’s totally my fault. We’ll be home in twenty, I promise. Gods, I’m so sorry.

<Please don’t be mad, I know it’s my fault.

Only a minute later, Aelin replied.

>Your curfew is going to be ten o’clock for at least two weeks, young lady. But thank you for the explanation. The door is still unlocked. -Mom.

Evie groaned. “She’s gonna have my ass tomorrow.”

“I’m so sorry, Evie.” Cal flicked his eyes to hers as he drove through town. 

“It’s not your fault, Cal, and please keep your eyes on the road.” She gave him a soft little smile. 

When he pulled into her driveway, he put the car into park. “Should I walk with you? Apologize to your mom?”

Her heart melted at his sincerity. “That’s not necessary, but thank you. You’re the best, Cal.”

He chuckled softly. “That I am not, but thank you.” As she moved to climb out of the car, he caught her wrist. “Wait!”

“What?”

“I...uh...good night?”

She smothered a mischievous grin. “Good night, Cal.” And she leaned over and kissed him, just a peck of her lips. He froze for a moment, then slipped a hand behind her head and kissed her properly. 

She was grinning, eyes sparkling, when she pulled away. “Good night, Cal.”

“Good night, Evie.” A stupidly happy smile on his own face.

Evie let herself into her house, locked the front door behind her, and crept down the hall to her bedroom. She was almost home free when she heard her mother’s bedroom door creak open.

“Welcome home, Evi--holy shit!”

Evie turned, finding her mother standing in the doorway, gaping at her outfit. Aelin looked as if she’d seen a ghost. 

“Where the hells did you find that dress?”

“Um, it was in your closet when we were cleaning it out, Mom. I guess it was buried in a pile, but I found it and it fit, so I, uh, kept it.”

Aelin took a deep, calming breath. “I see. Good night, Evie. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“Okay. Good night, Mom.” Evie closed her door.

Aelin stepped back into her room, closed her door, and almost in a daze, collapsed backwards onto her bed and laid there, staring at the ceiling, a flood of memories pouring through her mind. That dress. That goddamned red dress. She should have burned it years ago, not thrown it in the back of her closet. It held too many memories, too many painful memories, too many things she never wanted to face.

But face them she must.

~~~~

ALMOST SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO

In the backseat of Elide’s car, Aelin shimmied out of her blouse and black midi skirt, slipping a silky red camisole dress over her head, enjoying the feel of the swingy skirts against her legs. Her parents would have a fit if they saw Aelin in this dress, insistent that their only daughter “be modest.” Aelin inwardly rolled her eyes every time her mother or her father said something like that, never having understood that reasoning, believing it was just some arbitrary rule. She was seventeen, nearly eighteen, almost an adult, surely she could be trusted to pick out her own goddamn clothes. 

They sped through the streets, music blaring from the speakers, the two of them singing along with gusto, if not much pitch. Too soon, they reached their destination, and Elide slowed down, driving only the speed limit, and turned down their music. She pulled into a car-laden driveway shortly later and parked, grabbed her clutch, and refreshed her makeup. 

“You ready, Ace?” Elide asked, pursing her glossy lips. 

Aelin checked her hair in the mirror, smoothing down her flyaways. “Yeah, now I am. Let’s go.”

Elide locked up her little Toyota as the two went up the front path of Lorcan Salvaterre’s house. Technically, his aunt’s, but Maeve was never home, so Lorcan, Rowan, Fenrys, Connall, and Vaughan basically owned the place. All five were seniors, though Lorcan was nineteen. As he told it, he’d been held back in kindergarten for beating up other kids on the playground. Aelin half believed him; the guy definitely had the temper to prove it. But despite his rocky exterior, he was a big softy, head over heels for her best friend, and Elide knew full well her power over him. 

“Where’s the booze, Salvaterre?” Elide hollered, shoving through the front door. 

“Kitchen, Elli!” he yelled back, poking his head out of the living room. He whistled when he saw Aelin’s dress. “Damn. Galathynius, you trying to catch someone’s eye?”

“Not yours, you already have a girlfriend,” she snarked. “And besides, I don’t need to dress up to catch Rowan’s eye. I just wanted to dress up tonight.”

Lorcan tipped his bottle at her. “Cheers to that, Ace. Booze is mostly in the kitchen, and Rowan’s in the living room.”

Calling her thanks, Aelin swung into the kitchen, grabbing a hard cider from the fridge. She hated beer, referred to it only as “swill,” or some other expletive if she was tipsy. Cracking open the bottle, she took a long draft as she headed for the living room.

“You and your bougie-ass drinks, Ace,” drawled a low, slightly slurred voice to her left. Turning her best dry gaze towards the voice, Aelin locked her eyes with Rowan’s and took another deep draft.

“Not my fault you uncultured swine like the cheap shit,” she snorted, dropping onto the couch’s armrest. “Scoot over, Whitethorn, just because you can take up an entire couch doesn’t mean you should.”

Grumbling something crude, Rowan sat up, resting an arm on the back of the couch. Aelin slipped into the space beside him, her red dress a bright contrast with the beige cushions. Her boyfriend’s arm slipped down around her, pulling her into his side. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she grinned, eyes sparkling up at him. 

“That dress looks fucking amazing on you, Ace.”

“Thank you,” she blushed, “my parents would have my ass if they saw me in it, though. Gotta be modest and all that.”

He scoffed. “It’s knee-length, doesn’t that make it ‘modest?’”

Aelin cackled. “No no no, you misunderstand, buzzard. Being knee-length isn’t the only criterion. It has to be mom- and dad-approved, and let me tell you, my mom took one look at this dress and said hell no. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea.”

“Still, Fireheart, you look gorgeous in it.” His voice dipped low. “So fucking gorgeous.”

~

Too many drinks later, Aelin, Rowan, and everyone else were sitting on the floor, spinning a bottle. Elide and Lorcan had already spent their seven minutes in heaven--or, more accurately, the bathroom--and returned with swollen lips to great hooting and catcalls. Elide wiggled her brows suggestively at Aelin when the bottle landed on Rowan, who groaned a string of slurred curses and reluctantly spun it. 

It landed on Aelin.

“Whoooooo, Galathynius!” Fenrys crowed from his sprawled position on the floor. “Kissy-kissy time!”

“Shut the fuck up, Fen.” Aelin tossed her empty cup at his head, snickering at his yelp when it smacked him on the forehead. She stood, smoothing out her skirt. Rowan offered his hand to much laughter. 

“Aww, look, he’s such a gentleman,” Lorcan crooned. Rowan flipped him off, letting Aelin go into the bathroom first. He locked the door behind them.

“This wasn’t how I pictured getting some alone time tonight,” Aelin snorted, “but here we are.”

Rowan chuckled. “Here we are indeed.” He stepped close to her, bracing his arms on the counter on either side of her. He leaned down, his face a breath away from hers. “As Fen so eloquently put it, kissy-kissy time?”

Aelin tipped her head back, laughing wildly. “Please don’t ever use those words ever again.” She threaded her hands into his shaggy, silvery-blonde hair, tugging his face to hers, and kissed him. 

He tasted of the alcohol they’d all been drinking, of beer and punch and Rowan. She let her lips open at the brush of his tongue, meeting his passionate kiss stroke for stroke. His warm, broad hands slid down her back to her ass, hefting her up onto the counter. Not breaking the kiss, she wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close. 

Panting, he yanked his lips from hers, trailing hot kisses down her jaw, her neck. She shivered when his lips found her pulse point, unable to stop a soft moan from escaping. Which only made his eyes darken further as he nipped at that spot, surging back up to claim her lips. 

And then Lorcan pounded on the door. “All right, you horny children, time’s up!”

“I’m not a fucking child!” Rowan yelled back, helping Aelin off the counter.

“You’re not eighteen yet, Whitethorn!”

“Asshole,” Rowan grumbled, walking out of the bathroom hand in hand with Aelin. Before they could get to the living room, she stopped, tugging at his hand. 

“Do you really want to go back out?” She raised her brows, dark promise in her turquoise eyes. 

“Fuck no,” Rowan breathed, instantly reversing his steps. Aelin chuckled as he pulled her upstairs, pressed her against the wall to kiss her again. 

“This isn’t your room,” she panted, feeling her lacy little panties start to soak through. 

They stumbled into his bedroom, Rowan slamming the door behind them. A round of laughter sounded from downstairs, accompanied by at least three wolf whistles.

“They’re so mature,” Aelin snorted. 

“But we love them,” Rowan added. 

“Nah, I just love you,” she grinned. 

Emotion flashed through his dark, green eyes. “I love you too, Ace,” he whispered. And then he pounced, lifting her into his arms, his lips crashing into hers. Not once breaking the kiss, he walked her backwards, until the backs of his legs hit his bed, then turned and all but tossed her onto the mattress, bracing himself atop her. 

Aelin’s eyes were wild, breath heaving, that gorgeous red dress bunched up around her hips. “Are you sure, Ro?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair off her face. 

Satisfied with that answer, Aelin grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor, revealing her simple strapless bra and lacy panties. Rowan’s eyes trailed over her, drinking in the elegant lines of her body. 

“You’re so beautiful, Fireheart,” he breathed. He stripped off his own shirt, his jeans, throwing them in the general direction of Aelin’s dress. She let her eyes rove over him, his athlete’s body, his tattoo--the two lines of black text that wrapped around his arm just below his shoulder. 

“And you’re so damn gorgeous,” she breathed. “Now kiss me, buzzard.”

“So demanding,” he chuckled, lowering his mouth to hers. 

“You love it,” she shot back, kissing him. 

Yeah he fucking did. Moving his lips back to her neck, he found the place that hade her moan, sucking a mark into the crook of her neck. Aelin released another delightful moan, her hips bucking. Smirking darkly, Rowan tracked his hands up her back, finding the clasps of her bra, and flung it off, his eyes latching onto her prefect breasts. He swore he got harder at the sight. Aelin, of course, noticed his reaction and sat up, pressing her breasts against his chest. 

“Fuck,” he swore, his hands cupping her tits. “These are killing me, Fireheart.”

“Do something about it, then,” she purred. 

So he did. When she was writhing beneath him, his teasing so much, he finally, finally dipped his fingers into her panties, cursing at the wetness he found there. Aelin slid her panties down her legs, kicking them to the floor. 

“All for you,” she panted, “all for you.”

He needed no further encouragement to slide two fingers through her wetness, finding her clit and drawing a deep, throaty moan from her. She swore, low in her throat, as his thumb traced circles over her clit, one finger just barely dipping into her center, his free hand still at her breasts. Her hips arched beneath his hand and he chuckled darkly as he acceded to her unspoken demand and slid that finger all the way in. Aelin’s back arched off the bed, her mouth opening in a silent moan, as he stroked her, careful to be gentle. Her leg brushed against his hardness, still covered by his boxers, and he felt himself twitch at the touch. 

“Not yet,” he purred, quickening the pace of his fingers. “You have to come first.”

“Fuck,” she groaned, “fuck, Rowan, yes!” He kissed her, all lips and tongue and teeth, not stopping the pace of his fingers, until she came with a breathy moan, her body shaking. When she stilled, he brought his fingers up, watching them glisten in the moonlight filtering through his curtains. And licked them clean, groaning at her taste. Not holding back any longer, he shoved his boxers off. Aelin’s eyes roved over his length, proud and hard. 

“Fuck me, Whitethorn,” she groaned.

“I’m trying,” he returned, grinning. 

Aelin snorted a laugh and kissed him deeply, a hand sliding down his torso and reaching his cock, stroking. His hips bucked into her touch. 

“Shit, Fireheart, if you keep doing that I won’t last a minute,” he growled, yanking her hands back up. She just smirked, the expression tinged with the wild edge he loved so much. He laid her back down, unexpected nerves coursing through him. Aelin cupped her hands around his face. 

“I’m nervous too, Ro,” she admitted. He smiled at her, a little shakily. “But I love you, buzzard, and I trust you.”

“Gods, I love you too,” he murmured, lining himself up. “Breathe, Fireheart, and I...I’ll try not to hurt you.” He pushed forward, slowly, carefully, her tightness molding around him like they were made to fit together. Aelin’s brows scrunched up, the pressure getting to her. Rowan petted a hand down her stomach, stroked her clit, helping her to ease up. She mewled, her walls relaxing, and he pushed all the way in, stopping as they both breathed, adjusting to the flood of new sensations. And then she nodded, and he moved, rolling his hips into hers, finding a rhythm. Aelin moaned, her back arching off the bed, her head falling back. She felt herself hurtling towards that edge again, her body tensing as Rowan’s hips began to stutter. 

“Come with me, Ro,” she moaned. And he did, spilling himself into her as she shattered, moving with her through the throes of their climaxes. 

Spent and sated, he pulled out, drops of their release spilling out of Aelin. He flopped onto the bed next to her, overwhelmed and elated all at once. She turned her head towards him, love shining in her bright eyes. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he breathed, shaky. “I...I feel like I should get you a washcloth or something to clean up with, but I don’t think I can move.”

Aelin giggled, the sound bright and clear. “It’s okay, Ro. I don’t think I can move either.” They lay next to each other for some moments, regaining their strength, Eventually, Rowan got up, got a warm washcloth, and brought it to her, carefully cleaning their mixed releases off her thighs. And then he went still, tense. 

“What?” Concern on her face.

“Fuck,” he swore, sense suddenly slamming into his brain, “I didn’t wear a condom!” 

Shock washed over her face, then understanding. She sat up, taking his hands. “I’m on the pill, Ro. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” he sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I would never want to put you in that position.”

A soft smile graced her face. “You’re too good to be true, Rowan Whitethorn.”

~

TWO MONTHS LATER

Aelin was shaking. Literally. She braced her hands atop her right thigh, pressing down as if it would stop her leg from jittering against the medical tile flooring. Nobody knew she was here--not her parents, not her friends, not Elide, not even Rowan. She’d woken up one morning a couple weeks after her first time with Rowan feeling...off. Like the way she felt right before her period, but she wasn’t bleeding. 

Didn’t bleed.

She’d been puking almost every morning for two-ish weeks now, and she was no longer able to shove away the questions burning into her mind--Am I pregnant? How is that possible? So she’d quietly called her gynecologist, now being eighteen and legally able to schedule her own appointments without her parents knowing, and her doctor had referred her here, to this OB. Aelin had made an appointment for a scan, somehow managing to keep her voice steady, and then broken down and cried in her room for a while. She was scared. So scared. But she knew this had to happen. She had to know. 

“Aelin Galathynius?” A kind-faced, middle-aged nurse came into the waiting room. Aelin stood and went over to her. “Hi, Ms. Galathynius, my name is Peggy. I’ll be taking your vitals and getting you all set up today.”

“It’s Aelin, please.” Aelin smiled a little, finding herself at ease with the woman’s kindliness. 

“Okay, Aelin then.” Nurse Peggy took her height and weight and blood pressure, and pulled a stool up in front of the examining table. “Now, I have to ask you some questions before your scan. Everything is 100% confidential, I promise.”

“Okay,” Aelin breathed. “Ask away, then.”

“Do you think you might be pregnant?”

“Yes.” Aelin’s voice shook. “Yes, I do.”

“When did you start to think this?” Peggy’s voice was soothing.

“About three weeks ago.”

“What led you to this thought? Or, what symptoms have you noticed?”

“I missed my period. Twice now. And it’s very regular. Also, I’ve been throwing up in the mornings for two and a half weeks.”

Peggy wrote some notes on her clipboard. “Okay. And--I have to ask you this, it’s part of the information we take--when was the last time you had sexual intercourse?”

Aelin blushed. “Uhh...three weeks ago? Yeah. About three weeks ago.”

“Was this your first time?”

“No, my first time was about five-ish weeks before that.” Her blush deepened. “I have a healthy relationship with my boyfriend, if that matters.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Nurse Peggy smiled. “All right, Aelin, you’ll need to wait here for a little bit. Dr. Carde will be in to take your scan.”

“I didn’t think the doctor usually took scans?” Aelin asked.

“No, but since this is your first visit, and Dr. Towers referred you here, she would like to meet you.”

“Ah.” Aelin settled herself onto the table. “Thank you, Nurse Peggy.”

“Of course.” The nurse smiled at her and left the room, closing the door with a soft click. 

Not quite ten minutes later, a polite knock sounded on the door, and a younger woman in lavender scrubs and a white coat entered. “Hi, you must be Aelin Galathynius. I’m Dr. Amy Carde.”

Aelin shook her hand. “Hi, Doctor. I’m Aelin.”

“And you think you might have a little bean, yes?”

Aelin grinned at the woman’s kindness and humor. “I think so, yeah.”

“Have you been taking birth control?”

“Not for about six weeks, when I first missed my period and though the pill was screwing with my cycle.”

“Okay. That was a good decision. If you are pregnant, continuing to take birth control could cause serious complications.”

“Am I...pregnant?” Aelin’s voice trembled.

“Well, let’s find out.” The doctor scrubbed her hands and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Lift up your shirt please. The ultrasound gel is cold, fair warning.”

Aelin pulled up her tee and squeaked when the gel hit her belly. It was rather cold. The doctor grinned. 

“I warned you.”

“It’s just...a foreign sensation,” Aelin chuckled. 

“Right,” the doctor said, finishing with the gel. She turned off the lights, turned on the screen opposite of Aelin and grabbed the ultrasound probe from the machine. “Let’s see if there’s a baby in there.” She moved the probe around, static filling the small room. “Hmm...here’s the uterus, let’s zoom in some more.” She adjusted the machine, the image zooming in. A little blob became visible in the black-and-white image, growing clearer as the ultrasound zoomed in. Dr. Carde looked at Aelin, a delighted smile on her face. “You’re pregnant, Aelin.”

Aelin stared in utter shock at the image on the screen, watching the little blob pulse and move, and... “Could you move the image around, Doctor?”

“Of course.” She toggled the ultrasound, moving the image. And gasped as it became evident that there were decidedly two little beans. “It’s...it’s twins,” she breathed, just as stunned as Aelin.

Tears streamed down Aelin’s face. “It’s twins,” she gasped, transfixed by the image. 

“Would you like to hear the heartbeats?” Dr. Carde asked gently.

“Is that possible?” 

“I would put you at about eight weeks, so yes, it is.”

“Yes,” Aelin breathed, emotion filling her voice. Dr. Carde’s mouth twisted into a gleeful little smile. She touched a few buttons, and a staticky, fast thrumming sounded through the room. 

“Yep, two little heartbeats, and don’t freak out, Aelin, this pace is perfectly normal and healthy.”

Aelin was full-out crying. “Gods,” she sniffled, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess, but today has been an emotional rollercoaster.” She listened to her babies’ heartbeats in silence, wiping the tears from her face. 

“Would you like the pictures?” the doctor asked. 

“Of course,” Aelin sniffled. “Of course I would.”

She left the office that day with an envelope containing her first ultrasounds of her twins, an appointment for next month’s ultrasound, and a heart swelling with emotions. In her car, the first thing she did was call Rowan. 

“Can we meet at your place? There’s something I need to tell you.”

~

SIX MONTHS LATER

Aelin thanked all the gods it had been so close to graduation when she’d found out she was pregnant, because there was no way in hell she’d have been able to keep showing up to class once her pregnancy was showing beyond concealment. She had graduated with honors in mid-May and immediately taken her possessions and moved into Rowan’s apartment. He’d signed off on the place shortly after their first night together, explaining that he’d been planning to move out anyway and all he had to do was wait until his 18th birthday to legally sign the lease papers.

The day she told him she was pregnant had been an experience for both of them. He cried, Aelin cried, they looked at the ultrasounds and cried some more, and then he had asked if she would move in with him. Once he got the apartment, of course. She had agreed instantly.

Which turned out to be rather convenient for her, as her parents were completely floored when she told them a week after graduation that she was pregnant. That had been a day and a half, it had. Rhoe and Evalin were speechless for a long time, processing everything their 18-year-old daughter had just said, and then the questions began. Did Rowan know? How were they going to support the babies? What about college? Was Aelin aware that she was throwing her life away to become a mom so young? What about all of her plans?

It was all Aelin could do to explain herself. Yes, of course Rowan knew. They both had summer jobs, and Aelin was looking for employers hiring for remote work. As for college, she had decided to defer and had already notified her university. Rowan, on the other hand, was planning to go to community college and work part-time. Aelin would look for a part-time job too, once she was recovered enough to work and had found care for her babies while she worked. 

And no, she wasn’t “throwing away her life.” She was accepting this new turn.

Her parents had looked more than a little skeptical of her certainty, but nonetheless, they accepted her decision. They were less than pleased when she told them she was moving in with Rowan, though they recognized her rationale. So it was that shortly after graduating high school, Aelin Galathynius packed her belongings into her little old Subaru and officially moved in with her boyfriend. 

Her pregnancy had gone surprisingly smoothly, despite her bouts of severe morning sickness and the added possibilities of complications that came with twins. At her last month’s ultrasound, she and Dr. Carde had decided together than it would be best to set an induction date and plan to deliver the babies then, unless they decided to come earlier.

~

Aelin closed her laptop with a groan of relief and put it away, then awkwardly shoved herself off the couch and waddled to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

Rowan, reading one of his textbooks by the light of the bedside lamp, looked up and smiled, his reading glasses adorably askew. “You alright, Fireheart?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, going into the bathroom. She came out some time later in her pj’s, her hair back in a loose braid. “Help me into bed, Ro?”

He was at her side in a blink, guiding her back against her pregnancy pillow and tucking the covers over her. He placed two gentle kisses to her swollen belly. “Good night, my girls,” he whispered. 

Aelin’s eyes filled with tears at his softness. The moment they’d found out the twins were both girls, Rowan had started calling them and Aelin “his girls” collectively, and damn if it didn’t make her fall more in love with him every day. He got back into bed, snuggling himself next to her, and laid an arm across her bump. “Good night, Fireheart.”

“G’night, buzzard,” she mumbled, already dozing off.

A sharp flash of pain through her abdomen jerked her awake at three in the morning. “Rowan,” she mumbled, then sharper, “Rowan!”

He popped awake. “Hmmmm?”

“I--” Aelin braced her hands on her hips and breathed like Dr. Carde had taught her-- “I think I’m going into labor.”

He was out of bed in seconds, throwing on a shirt and sweats, grabbing the toiletry bag from the bathroom and setting it with their hospital bag. He tucked his phone and wallet into his pocket, grabbed Aelin’s phone and put it in her purse, ran her purse and their hospital bag out to the front door. Back in the bedroom, he helped Aelin out of bed and into her shoes. His eyes were wild. Aelin cupped her hands around his jaw. 

“Calm down, buzzard. You need to be levelheaded to drive, my love.”

He took a deep breath and released it. “Okay. Okay, Fireheart, let’s get you to the hospital.”

In the car, Aelin grabbed her phone and called Dr. Carde. She picked up on the third ring. 

“Aelin?”

“Hey, Doctor, we’re going to the hospital. I’m pretty damn certain I’m in labor.”

“Are you doing your breathing exercises?” Dr. Carde went into full OB mode. 

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m on call right now, so I’ll probably be delivering your babies. Come into the main entrance, there will be a nurse waiting for you two. I’ll get everything set up. Rowan will probably have to fill out some paperwork for you two, just admissions stuff, when you get here.”

“Okay.” Aelin stopped and breathed. “Okay, thank you so much.”

“See you soon, Aelin.”

As Dr. Carde promised, a nurse was waiting in the lobby when Aelin and Rowan entered the hospital. She helped Aelin into a wheelchair and led them off the the labor and delivery wing, handing Rowan a clipboard with some paperwork. Almost before she registered it, Aelin was settled in the L&D room, hooked up to machines that monitored her and the babies’ vitals. 

The actual delivery was something of a blur, the events of the night all running together in a haze of contractions, an epidural, tears, sweat, yelling, “Push, Aelin!,” pushing again, and the hearty cries of two infant girls coming into the world. Aelin cried uncontrollably as both babies were placed against her skin, as she cradled her two baby girls for the first time. She turned her head to Rowan, who hadn’t left her side all through her labor, seeing the tears spilling over his cheeks. 

“Look at our babies, Ro,” she breathed, voice hoarse. “Look at them.”

~

They named the twins Evalin, after Aelin’s mother, and Sana, after Rowan’s grandmother. Both were healthy, beautiful babies with tufts of soft, light blonde hair and blue-green eyes. As they grew older, Evalin’s eyes settled into the same turquoise as her mother’s and Sana’s settled into a green like her father’s. Aelin slept a lot after delivering the twins, her body needing the time to recover. 

When they brought the twins home, a week after they were born, their two-bedroom apartment had been packed full of diapers, wipes, baby toys, clothes, blankets, burp cloths, and gadgets. Their sleep schedule went completely to hell for the first few months, Aelin especially sleeping and waking on the twins’ feeding schedule. She was determined to breastfeed them both, and managed it most of the time, but there were times when all she could do was pump a few bottles and let Rowan feed the babies while her young, exhausted body rested. And damn her if her heart didn’t positively melt every time she watched her shirtless boyfriend cradling and feeding one of their babies, murmuring softly against her tiny little head.

Things calmed down after a number of months, as the twins settled into a regular sleep schedule and Aelin’s body recovered. Rowan had managed to get some paternity leave from his part-time office job and had switched his classes to online, giving him more time to be home with Aelin, Evie, and Sana. And life went on, hectic with two babies to care for but nonetheless a joy, until the day everything fell apart.

~

TEN MONTHS LATER

“You want us to do what?” Aelin was incredulous. 

“I’ve been accepted into a program at Duke that will allow me to work half-time and take classes half-time while I get my accounting degree,” Rowan repeated. “It’s an amazing opportunity, Fireheart.”

“An opportunity that requires you to move across the country!” She didn’t mean to yell, but her voice was rising. 

“Us,” Rowan said.

“What?”

“Us, Aelin. We would move there, all four of us. You could find a job there, or maybe even apply to university like you want to. We would still be a family, just in a different place.”

“You sound awfully certain about all this,” she said, tightly. 

“I...” Rowan raked a hand through his cropped hair. “I’ve already accepted the offer.”

“Without talking to me?” Aelin’s voice cracked. “Am I so unimportant? Do we mean so little to you, Mr. Career Man?”

“No, no, no, you are my world, my everything!”

“Then why in the holy fuck are you telling me this now?” Her voice rose high and broke, tears forming in her eyes. 

“I didn’t want you to stress about all the possibilities!” His voice was strained, frustrated. “I know you, and I know you’d obsess over the little details and wonder if you could do it, if we could do it, and I didn’t want to put that burden on you!”

“So you know how I think, now. You spend more and more time caught up in your work, your studies, ignoring me, and now you know how I think.” Her voice went flat, angry. 

“No--fuck--Aelin--I--” he sputtered.

“Rowan. I respect your decision, but I’m not going.”

Silence.

“Wh--what?”

“I. Am. Not. Moving. Across. The. Country.” she repeated, her eyes boring into his. “I have a life and a family here, Rowan Whitethorn, I have been accepted into the state university, I have my chance to be both a mother and a college student and get my degree, right here, I cannot just uproot myself and leave.” 

“So you’re ending things? Just like that?” He choked back tears of his own.

“I don’t see any other way.” Her voice was clipped, tight, forcing down the sobs that swelled in her throat.

“You can’t keep my daughters from me,” he said, whirling around. “Aelin, you can’t. I’ll file my claims.”

“I don’t want legal trouble,” she replied, hollowness settling into her voice, her eyes. “How do we settle this without getting a nasty court case involved? We aren’t married; I don’t want our parting marred by...that.”

They went silent, staring at each other, thoughts spinning through their minds. Aelin looked over at the twins’ room, both girls sleeping peacefully in their cribs.

“What if we each raised one daughter?” she choked out. “Would that satisfy you?”

“If we see updates regularly,” he rasped. “If we stay in contact enough to watch our daughters grow up.”

“All right,” she whispered, “I agree.” And she burst into sobs, burying her face in her hands. Rowan wrapped his arms around her, holding her shaking form. She pushed him away. “Don’t,” she croaked. “Just...don’t.”

~

Rowan and Sana moved to Duke University the next week, and all Aelin saw of the two of them for the next ten years were the photos and videos Rowan sent her periodically. She sent him photos and videos of Evie, so each of them could watch their daughters grow and change, their unique personalities develop. They were so young when Aelin and Rowan separated, young enough not to remember anything. She’d thought she would never see him again.

Until he moved back to their hometown ten years later, having received a job with a large accounting firm in the city. 

Aelin had picked Evie up from school one afternoon and asked, as usual, what had happened at school that day.

“We got a new classmate, Mama! And she’s my table partner and I think we’re gonna be friends!” Evie declared. 

“Oh? Isn’t it a little odd to have a new student at this time of year?” It was early spring. 

“Yeah, but Mrs. Walker said it was a ‘special case’ ’cause Sana and her daddy just moved here.”

Aelin nearly ran her car off the road. “Her name is Sana?”

“Yeah! And she has the same birthday as me!”

“That’s lovely, Evie. I’m glad you’re getting to know her.” Aelin made her voice light, no sign of what she felt. 

“Mrs. Walker said I could tell Sana ’bout the school and the city,” Evie said proudly. “Cuz I’ve lived here all my life.”

“Wonderful.” Aelin smiled at her daughter in the rearview mirror.

The minute they got home--to the house Aelin had bought three years ago when she was finally, finally financially stable enough to have a mortgage, having worked her ass off to do her undergrad in English lit in three years while working part-time, and then obtain her master’s in twentieth-century British literature and receive a job offer from a major publishing firm--Aelin pulled out her phone and texted Rowan, demanding an explanation.

>Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, Aelin. E&H moved me to this office, promoted me, entrusted me with a department here. And they used all of that against me when I tried to keep myself where I was. I couldn’t talk my way out of the job, no matter how hard I tried.

<Does our agreement still stand?

>Of course. I won’t try to infiltrate your life. I promise.

<Thank you. I promise not to infiltrate your life as well.

And they’d left it at that. 

But their daughters became fast friends, remaining in the same school, the same middle school, the same high school. Sana and Evie started going to each other’s houses, to the well-concealed shock of their parents, who for the first time in a decade were seeing the other twin in the flesh. It was so hard, so fucking hard, for Aelin to keep the truth quiet when Sana was over, especially when she tilted her head in a gesture that was so very Rowan it was all Aelin could do not to gape. It was so hard, so fucking hard, for Rowan not to blurt out the truth when Evie was over, especially when she propped her hands on her hips in a gesture that was so Aelin it was all Rowan could do not to goggle. Sana and Evie became inseparable best friends, not once suspecting the truth, that they were twins.

~~~

PRESENT

Aelin had very nearly lost her shit when Evie didn’t come home by her curfew. She knew from her daughter that she and her friends were probably going to hang out at the beach, it being only about an hour’s drive away and one of Evie’s favorite places, but her daughter was always punctual. 

She liked to think that was a trait inherited from her father.

So, naturally, she’d sent a string of texts, each one growing more frantic, as she paced the house, waiting for a response. 

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t almost melted in relief when Evie finally texted her back at 1:50 am, apologizing and saying she’d be back soon.

Aelin had waited in her bedroom, listening for the front door, and bad heaved a great sigh of relief when she heard the door open and close and the lock click into place. Evie had walked quietly down the hall to her room, no doubt hoping not to disturb Aelin if she was asleep. Aelin smiled to herself at Evie’s thoughtfulness, but nonetheless had walked over and opened her door to say good night. 

And frozen in complete and total shock at the sight of her sixteen-year-old daughter wearing the dress.

The silky, red camisole dress Aelin had worn the night she got pregnant.

Granted, Evie wore it differently, paired with a white tee and her Converse, her mini backpack slung over a shoulder, but it was still the dress.

After Evie had gone into her room, Aelin had all but fallen back into her bedroom, sixteen years of suppressed memories hitting her like a wall of bricks. She had to tell Evie. She knew it deep in her bones. That didn’t make it any easier, of course, but after her reaction to the dress, she knew she couldn’t hide the truth any longer. 

Just before she drifted off, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, opened her text thread with Rowan, and typed out a message, thumb shaking as she sent it. 

<I have to tell Evie. She...I can’t keep the secret any longer. I’m so sorry.

Aelin slept fitfully that night, haunted by dreams that were really just flashes of memory--her, Rowan, and the twins as babies, their little old apartment, their youthful idealism, the argument that had brought it all crashing down. 

She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through her curtains and the scent of coffee wafting in from the kitchen. She checked her phone, seeing that Rowan had replied. 

>I understand. And I forgive you. I confess I was about to tell Sana too. 

Aelin’s throat went tight at the words, at the emotion she could sense hiding behind the white text. Pushing herself out of bed and into leggings, a sweater, and her beat-up old slippers, Aelin tied up her golden hair in a messy bun and went out to the kitchen. Evie sat at the table, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and cropped leggings, sipping from a mug of coffee with almond creamer. Aelin poured herself a cup from the coffeepot, adding a splash of the creamer, and sat down across from her daughter. 

“Thanks for making the coffee, Evie.” She offered her daughter a tired half-smile.

Evie nodded. “You’re welcome, Mom.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, the gesture so like Aelin that Aelin herself blinked in shock. She sighed. “Mom, talk to me. Why’d you freak out when I came home last night?”

Aelin took a calming breath. “It was the dress.”

“What about it?” Evie looked genuinely confused. “I guess I should have told you before I wore it, but why do I feel like it’s a hell of a lot more than just me wearing the dress out?”

“Language, Evie,” Aelin chided, raising an eyebrow. 

Evie pursed her lips to hold back her smirk. “Okay.”

“You’re calling me out for my language, aren’t you.” Aelin chuckled. “Fine, you’re not wrong.” She sipped at her coffee. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, it’s more than just you wearing the dress. A hell of a lot more. And...and I confess I’m not really sure where to begin with what I have to tell you.”

Evie set her coffee down, stood up, grabbed her mother’s hand and a box of tissues, and led her over to the living room couch. “This is gonna be a sit-down kind of talk, isn’t it?”

Aelin’s eyes went distant. “Yeah.” She collected herself, cleared her throat. “Evie, that dress you wore last night is the dress I was wearing on the night I got pregnant with you.”

Her daughter’s eyes went huge. “I...I don’t think I’m ever going to touch that dress again.”

Aelin snorted a laugh. “I didn’t finish my thought, Evie. I wore that same red dress the night I got pregnant with you...and your twin sister.”

Evie’s jaw dropped. She flopped back against the sofa cushions, dumbstruck. “What.” 

“You have a twin sister,” Aelin repeated, her voice clogging with emotion, “and I have sixteen years of hiding that fact to apologize for.”

“Where...” Evie trailed off, cleared her throat. “Where is she?”

“Here in town, actually.” She locked eyes with her daughter. “You’ve known her since you two were ten, you just never knew you were sisters.” Aelin watched her daughter’s face as she processed the words, watched the shock, the gears turning in her mind, the realization dawning on her face.

“Sana?” she breathed, voice shaking. “Sana?”

Aelin nodded mutely, tears spilling out of her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

Evie grabbed a tissue, muffling the half-sob, half-shocked-gasp that she let out. Tears pooled in her Ashryver eyes. “Why the fuck did you keep this a secret?!”

Aelin chose her words very, very carefully. “Because Rowan and I...we agreed to raise you separately when we broke up. That was our accord.” She wiped her eyes, sniffled. “Do you want to hear the story?”

“Of course I do, Mom,” Evie croaked, blowing her nose. “I want to know everything.”

So Aelin spoke. “That dress, Evie, it reminds me of what I lost that night, even if I didn’t know I was losing it yet.”

“Mom, if you’re referring to your virginity...eugh.” Evie shuddered.

Aelin grinned. “No, honey, I don’t mean that. I knew full well your dad and I were going to have our first time that night. He did have a thing for me in red.”

“Ewwwww!” Evie groaned.

“That part isn’t important. Evie, the dress brought back all the memories I have of you and Rowan and Sana, all four of us, memories I thought I’d locked away in the back of my mind. I...I freaked out when I saw you in that dress, because you reminded me so very much of me on that night, all dressed up and bright-eyed, all hopeful. How fast the night changed.” A look of longing flashed across her face. 

“Okay, so you weren’t freaking out because you, by some strange mom power, knew I’d been kissing Cal before I came inside. Thank the gods.”

Aelin’s eyes twinkled. “Well, I did not know that, but I’m sure Nesta and Cass will be overjoyed to hear that their son finally acted on his crush.”

“Oh gods, forget everything I just said,” Evie grumbled. “You’ve barely told me anything about me and Sana, Mom. I want to know everything. Please.”

So Aelin told her everything. She told her about her and Rowan, about their young love, about the mingled terror and euphoria of finding out she was pregnant at 18, about moving into their first apartment together, about the all-too-brief time they spent there, together, young and idealistic and in love. She told her of the first few months of her and Sana’s lives, the chaos of having baby twins, the power of Rowan’s love for his and Aelin’s daughters. “I couldn’t have wished for a better man, Evie. I loved him--I love him. I love him, so much, and it hurts every day knowing he’s here, so close but so far away.” 

And she told her daughter of the end, of Rowan’s decision to go away to Duke, of the fight that split them apart, each of them taking a daughter to raise. She told Evie of their agreement to raise her and Sana separately, because of the way they’d parted. “We didn’t want you two to grow up knowing your parents parted ways badly. We wanted you to be happy, even if that means only knowing one parent. That’s why we never spoke of each other, save for vague mentions when you asked. But then Rowan moved back here, ten years after he left, and you can bet I freaked the fuck out. I thought he was breaking his promise not to return, and yeah, I was mad. But he told me he’d tried everything in his power not to move back here, that it was a higher-level decision forcing him to move, and I realized he was just as good as he always has been. I wish things had been different, Evie, I really do. I wish to all the gods the four of us were still a family, but here we are. Apart. Broken. And I don’t know how to fix anything.” Her voice broke, shattering into heaving sobs, all the years of pent-up emotion spilled over and out. 

Evie hugged her mother, handed her tissues as she cried, held her through her pain. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my Evalin,” Aelin sniffled, her eyes red and puffy. “You did nothing wrong. It was me who broke our family, and I don’t know if I can repair it.”

Evie looked straight into her mom’s eyes. “You can, Mom. I know you can. Telling me was the first step, wasn’t it?” Aelin slowly nodded. “I think you know what’s going to happen next, but if you don’t, here it is: I’m going to tell Sana. She deserves to know too.”

Aelin blew her nose and tossed the dirty Kleenex into the pile. “I’m fairly certain Rowan is telling her the story as we speak.”

“You told Mr. Whiteth--Row--my dad that you were going to tell me the story?”

“Yes.” Aelin wiped her eyes again. “Part of our agreement was that we text each other with updates about each of you. We both knew we’d end up telling you at some point in your lives; we just didn’t know when. Turns out when is now. Today.”

“Okay. So Sana knows. And we’re going to have a hell of a lot to talk about the next time we see each other, which will probably be very soon.”

“What now?”

“That’s what I’m asking you, Mom. What now?”

Another tear tracked down Aelin’s cheek. “I’m scared, Evie. We haven’t actually talked in sixteen years, aside from sending each other photos and videos of you and Sana, or quick texts here and there.”

“That’s still communicating, Mom, and I’m pretty sure that’s a good sign.”

“You being the rational one isn’t fair,” Aelin griped, cleaning up her face.��“I’m the mother, I’m supposed to be the one with the answers.”

“Well, I’m just repeating the stuff you’ve told me whenever I got into an argument with my friends,” Evie shrugged. 

Aelin hugged her daughter tightly. “Thank you, Evie.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Evie wrapped her arms around Aelin. “I will warn you, the first thing I’m going to do now is text Sana to meet up so we can talk. As--as sisters.”

“As you have every right to do,” Aelin murmured. “And in that vein, I’ll grow some cojones and talk to Rowan. If our daughters can do it, so can we.”

~

The park was prettily landscaped, not a leaf or blade of grass out of place, just as groomed as the tidy neighborhood of condos and townhouses that subtly spoke of well-paid owners. Aelin strolled slowly down a raked gravel pathway, luxuriating in the spring sunshine filtering through the trees, contemplating every possibility of the day. Rowan had offered this park as a meeting place, neither of them ready to open their homes to each other quite yet. She took a seat on a wooden bench overlooking the pond in the middle of the park, watched the wind ruffle the surface of the water. 

The soft crunch of footfalls on the gravel turned her head to the right, her eyes falling on Rowan’s achingly familiar face. True, he was older now, the sixteen years they’d spent apart having further defined his broad strength and shaped the planes of his face. He was casually dressed in chinos and a soft t-shirt, the short sleeves revealing that the simple tattoo he’d had at eighteen now extended down the length of his tanned arm and flicked up part of his neck, the intricate black-inked characters terminating at his wrist. Aelin stood, meeting his eyes, as he came closer to the bench. 

Not sure what to say, she just looked at him, sixteen years of memories swimming in the depths of her eyes. 

A shy smile crooked up one corner of his full lips. “Hi,” he breathed, his voice quivering with emotion.

A timid smile curved the corners of her mouth. “Hi,” she breathed back. “I...I’m not sure what to say, not at all. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Rowan whispered, “so, so sorry.”

~

Nothing on earth could have prepared Rowan Whitethorn for the heart-stopping sight of Aelin Galathynius. She was just as stunning, of not more so, than she had been when they parted ways at nineteen, the years since then having defined the elegant lines and curves of her frame, shaped the angles of her cheekbones, added a mature serenity to her posture. She still carried herself with that impeccable poise, and her turquoise-and-gold eyes had arrested him the second he walked within her sight line and she turned to see him. 

Carefully, hesitantly, he offered Aelin his hand, hoping beyond hope she wouldn’t slap him. “I never meant for us to fall apart,” he said hoarsely, his voice a rasp. 

Aelin’s hand slid across his palm, her fingers curling ever so gently around his. “I regret our parting every day,” she choked out. “I dream of what could have been more than I care to admit. I missed out on so much life because I was stupid, and stubborn, and stupid.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She struggled to hold them back. 

“Gods, Aelin, I was such a fucking moron.” Rowan’s voice broke. “I tore us apart, and I have never forgiven myself for it.”

Aelin sniffled. “You are not the only one at fault, buzzard.” The familiar nickname slipped out before she could catch herself. “I never wanted to leave, never wanted you to leave. I loved you so fiercely, and I couldn’t see past that. I’m so sorry. So. Fucking. Sorry.”

“I never stopped loving you, Fireheart,” Rowan murmured, tugging her closer to him. “Never. Not once. I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry, that I never had the balls to apologize for hurting you. For hurting us.”

“I forgive you, Ro.” Her voice cracked, chest heaving in a great, restrained sob. “But can you ever forgive me?”

“I forgive you, Aelin,” he croaked, voice quivering with the effort of holding back his own emotion.

She broke then, sixteen years of pent-up grief and regret overflowing into sobs. On impulse, Rowan pulled her close against him, wrapping his arms around her. The top of her head just barely reached his shoulder. Aelin collapsed against him, her arms twining around his waist. It felt so...right. Like two halves of a single whole locking into place.

He buried his face in her hair, tears falling down his own face, shoulders shaking. And they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, every barrier they’d built between themselves in the last sixteen years breaking down.

Calming, Aelin lifted her face, locked eyes with him. Even with tears streaming down her cheeks, even with her eyes red and puffy, she was still the most beautiful woman Rowan had ever seen. 

“I never stopped loving you, either,” she admitted. “I still love you, Rowan Whitethorn.”

“I love you too, Aelin Galathynius,” he breathed. 

“So what now?” 

“Well...our daughters know now.”

“That they do,” Aelin agreed. “And it would be rather awkward if we didn’t at least pretend to get along now.”

“So then, Aelin, may I take you to dinner?” He scratched the back of his neck, an old nervous habit that he apparently had never outgrown. 

She huffed a little chuckle, a real smile blooming across her face. “It’s a date.”

~

ONE YEAR LATER

“You ready, Mom?” The question coming from two voices.

Aelin looked at her daughters, one on each side of her, and smiled, her eyes going hazy. “I am.”

Evie swooped in with a tissue. “No tears yet, Mom, you can’t ruin your makeup before Dad has a chance to see it.”

Aelin grinned. “You’re right, Evie. I have to wait a while before Dad can ruin my makeup.”

“Mom! Gross!” Sana made a gagging face. “I did not need that image!” Behind her, Evie pantomimed vomiting, her face scrunched up. 

Aelin blew a kiss at each twin. “I love you too, darlings!”

A quick knock sounded on the door, and Elide poked her head in. “It’s time.”

Aelin took a deep breath, smoothed out the full skirt of her dress, checked her elegant low bun in the mirror. “Are we ready?”

Sana and Evie took their places on each side of her. “Ready as we’ll ever be,” they smiled. 

Aelin’s heart swelled with love and joy. “Let’s get me married, then.”

Her twin daughters led her down the chapel’s short aisle, down to where Rowan stood at the altar, his pine-green eyes brimming with tears. “Hi,” he mouthed. 

“Hi,” she mouthed back. 

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” 

“We do,” chorused Evie and Sana, linking Aelin and Rowan’s hands. 

And so they were married, almost eighteen years of love and heartbreak later, in a small ceremony with just their families and close friends present. Aelin cried when she spoke her vows, and Rowan cried when he spoke his. As he slid a simple rose-gold band adorned with a square-cut diamond flanked by twin emeralds onto her finger, he breathed three words, three words that settled deep into Aelin’s heart.

“To whatever end.”

“To whatever end,” she repeated as she slid a wider gold band with an inlay of tiny diamonds and rubies onto his finger. 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

And kiss her Rowan did, molding his lips to hers, pouring every ounce of his love into the kiss. Aelin returned his fervor equally, all of her love poured into the press of her lips. When they broke apart, grinning breathlessly at each other, the little chapel broke into applause and cheers. Aelin and Rowan walked down the aisle hand in hand, smiling radiantly, their lives at last forever intertwined. 

~

They went to the beach for their honeymoon, booking a secluded little cottage just a short walk from the beach. Aelin slipped into the master bathroom to change out of her wedding dress, a slightly wicked grin sliding across her face as she admired her reflection in the mirror. Pulling the door open, she leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Rowan to turn around. 

His face slackened in shock when he saw her, her frame gilded in the soft lamplight. “You--you’re wearing the dress, Fireheart,” he gasped.

“I am,” she smirked. “Oh, yes I am.”

“I promise not to break your heart ever again, Fireheart,” he murmured, his heartfelt words in sharp contrast to the hunger in his eyes.

Aelin laughed, walking over to stand in front of him. “And I promise not to break yours, my buzzard. I am yours, if you will have me.”

“I love you,” he purred, cupping her face in his hands. 

“I love you too.”

Always and forever.

~~~

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[silkenstarlight]

in the softest hours of night

Summary: Bucky gets a haircut and (Y/N) helps him to fully wrench himself from the clutches of his past.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning/s: fluff, cuddling, kissing, mention of Bucky’s past trauma

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: this made me feel very soft

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The sound of Bucky singing in the shower always made you smile.

He didn’t know that you could hear him from your spot in the bedroom. Sometimes, you considered telling him that you were his audience, when the guilt crept in and you felt as if you were intruding on a private moment. 

But, most times, you chose to lie beneath the blankets and listen. 

You could only ever make out fragments of lyrics-- tonight, he was singing Gene Sullivan. 

“When my blue moon turns to gold again… you'll be back in my arms to stay.”

It was soft and tentative, his breathy, murmured syllables of blues-y jazz and swinging pop bouncing off the tiles with a sweet, echoing reverberation. He seemed to weave in between thought and song, quietly uttered lyrics often followed by a long period of silence before he picked the melody up again at the next chorus. Sometimes, his words were rushed and garbled, as if he were leaning into the shower head’s stream to wash shampoo-scented suds from his hair. Other times, he embraced the song head-on, crooning confidently into the clouds of steam, as if he were imagining brazen trumpets and thrumming drumbeats backing his vocals. 

Whenever his volume crescendoed like that, you couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face. He sounded so peaceful, so free, when for the past several decades, he had been the prisoner of his own mind. His singing was a small thing, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You heard the water turn off and you turned onto your side, burrowing into the sheets and wiping any evidence of eavesdropping from your face.

A few seconds later, you heard his feet padding against the hardwood, and you turned to face him, smiling sleepily. He was bare, save for the white towel wrapped around his hips, minuscule water droplets rolling off of his muscled body with every step. His shoulder-length hair was drenched, framing his face in a slicked chestnut curtain. 

He reached the dresser and pulled out the top drawer, picking out a clean pair of boxers. He slipped them on beneath the cover of the towel, and you smirked at his unnecessary, but courteous, sense of modesty. You had seen him naked before, but he still preferred to stay covered in nonsexual situations such as this. So traditional.

He unwrapped the towel from around his waist and tossed it in the dirty laundry bin, and then walked over to your side of the bed. You reached up to him and he eagerly climbed on top of you, grinning as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

You stayed like that for a moment, even though his wet hair slid against your jaw and his weight crushed the breath from your lungs. You didn’t care that you couldn’t breathe. You loved it when he was mellow. He was his truest self when he was at his most vulnerable, his eyes crinkling at the edges with affection, his lips turned upward in a toothy smile that stole your breath and colored your cheeks a rosy pink.

He shifted, pushing up to rest his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut before he pressed his mouth lightly against yours in a delicate gesture of warmth, his lips warm and soft. His hair fell against your face, brushing against your skin and tickling your cheeks.

You broke the kiss, dipping your chin down and giggling. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” Bucky repeated back, his voice low, his tone similar to the one he used when he sang quietly in the shower. He returned your smile, until more of his hair slid down, blocking his vision of your face. He pushed it back with a dissatisfied grunt and frowned slightly.

He sighed. “Would you-- would you mind braiding my hair for me?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly, sitting up. “I don’t like the weight of it all. My hair, I mean.”

You sat up as well, instantly understanding the dual meaning behind his request. He wanted the hair out of his face, yes, but he also loathed the identity that was tied to it, the decades of mindless, brainwashed life that it represented. He hadn’t trimmed it since the forties, his hair an immortalized vision of his pre-war self, an artifact of the abuse he faced at the hands of Hydra. His hair carried the weight of a lifetime.

“Absolutely,” you responded.

He shifted, sitting at the edge of the bed, and you sat behind him, your legs caging him in. Despite the fact that he was almost naked, his modesty preserved by his plaid boxers, he was warm. You leaned into his broad back, savoring the heat that he provided, walking your fingertips lightly up his spine in a teasing gesture before brushing them through his hair.

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it.” Your fingers carded through Bucky’s shoulder-length locks, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. You brushed through the wet strands, gently untangling a few nasty snarls with adept ease.

“Well, I did have to borrow your conditioner. Hope that’s okay.” Bucky said quietly, his back to you as you separated his freshly-washed hair into three sections.

“I don’t mind,” you mumbled, pushing your tongue between your teeth as you began to concentrate on the braid. “Makes you smell good.”

He scoffed. “Did I not smell good before?”

You paused, strands held loosely in your fingers. “I-- well, yes.”

He huffed a laugh, but was silent after that, enjoying the dull tug as you weaved his hair into a neat plait. 

You were reaching the end of the braid when a thought crossed your mind. You paused, still grasping the three separate sections, and looked at the back of Bucky’s head.

“You know, Bucky,” you said, voice gentle. “We could cut your hair, if it bothers you this much.”

He paused, breath stalling, and considered what you said. Although he hated the years of violence attached to his hair, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to completely sever it from him. So much pain, so much history, snipped off and swept away in the blink of an eye-- he wasn’t sure who he would be without it. He surely wouldn’t be the same man as he was before all of this, so smug and cocksure, so smooth-talking and suave, the perfect image of 1940’s lady-killing swagger. But, he also wasn’t sure if that even mattered. That was who he was before. Now, he had lived through years of torture, decades of service as a trained assassin. He didn’t know who he was anymore. Maybe a fresh start would do him some good.

“Can we?” His voice cracked, throat tight with a sudden urgent need to bid farewell to his past incarnations.

“Do you want to do it now?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Go into the bathroom. I’ll find the scissors.”

Bucky followed your orders, reaching back to undo the braid you had so carefully woven. Silken, freshly-washed strands slipped through his fingers until he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for you to rid him of this long-held burden. He stared at his reflection, the tired, light purple crescents that shaded beneath his eyes, the natural down-turned tug of his lips, the deep, worried crease between his brows. A hard knot of self-hatred began to form in his throat, but he swallowed it as he heard you approach the bathroom.

You slipped behind Bucky, scissors in hand, and tapped his shoulder. At your signal, he knelt, folding his arms in front of him and leaning his head against the counter to allow you easier access to his hair. 

“You ready?” you asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding slightly, granting you permission to proceed.

You combed through his locks one last time, savoring their slippery, soft texture, their bristly split-ends. And then, you grasped a large section from the back and snipped.

You watched as the hair fluttered to the tiled floor below. Bucky smiled.

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

Slowly, you began to cut away more and more sections of hair, trying your best to avoid creating any harsh, choppy lines. You weren’t a hairdresser by any means, though, so once the bulk of the length had been cut away, Bucky’s hair was a haphazard mess.

“Oh, god,” you breathed, shakily placing the scissors on the counter. “We’ll have to make an appointment with a hairdresser tomorrow.”

He stood, brushing stray strands from his shoulders. “That’s fine.” He turned towards you, not bothering to look at his reflection. “Just wanted to get rid of the length.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, whether in shock at his new appearance, or in embarrassment at your amateur handiwork, you couldn’t tell. But he just wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his chest as you both shook with laughter. 

He leaned back, reaching up to your face and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Let’s go to bed.”

You nodded and let him lead you back into the bedroom, turning off the bedside lamp and climbing under the sheets after him. He settled on his back and you wrapped yourself around him, tucked into his side, breathing in his fresh, soapy scent. 

“Goodnight, doll,” he breathed, and you kissed his ribcage before letting his breathing lull you into the gentle space of sleep. 

He simply smiled and stared up at the ceiling, a decades-old weight suddenly lifted from his neck. No longer did he feel the tendrils of his past slithering against his neck with every movement.

So this is what it’s like, to be free. 

He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, tugging you just a little closer as he drifted to sleep.