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leiawritesstories · 2 years

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I need more content of Rowan as a dilf🥵

Him and Aelin taking their kids to birthday parties

your wish is my command ;) sorry it took so long ahhhh got caught up with college and other fun stuff

word count: 2,174

warnings: minor language, Rowan being a DILF

enjoy!!

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

“Dad?”

“Yeah?” Rowan glanced over his shoulder to find Lana behind him, her bright green eyes wide and pleading, the face she knew full well he could never refuse. “What is it, Lana?”

“Can I go to Mari’s party?”

He was completely blanking on the name. "Mari?"

Lana sighed, the expression of disappointment so much like her mother that it momentarily short-circuited his brain. "My friend Mari," she amended, her tone far too serious for a nine-year-old. "She's in my school class and my ballet class."

"Ah yes, Mari." Rowan remembered the girl now, a close friend of his daughter. Her mother was one of the few who didn't ogle at him when he came to pick up his kids. "When's her party, kiddo?"

"I told you already," Lana sighed dramatically. "It's Saturday at noon at her house and she said to bring a swimsuit 'cause we're gonna run through the sprinklers."

"I see." Rowan pretended like he had to think it over. "Of course you can go, honey. Do we need to get a present for her?"

"Yay!" Lana cheered. "Yeah, I wanna get her a present."

"What do you want to get her?"

"A dino stuffy!"

"I--" Rowan blinked. "A what?"

His daughter fixed him with an exact copy of Aelin's "really, buzzard?" face. "A dinosaur stuffed animal," she expounded, her voice so dry it sounded almost like his own for a moment. Guess he knew where she got her sarcasm from.

"Ah, okay." He winked at her. "Should we go shopping today?"

She beamed. "Yeah!"

He chuckled. "All right, we can go when Mom gets home. Okay?"

Lana frowned. "But I wanna go now!"

Rowan delivered his very best Dad Look. "Honey, don't you have a worksheet or two to finish?"

"Maybe..."

"Well, you can get those done before we go, and then you won't need to worry about them later." He stuck out his hand. "Sound fair?"

"All right," Lana agreed reluctantly. "I guess I can do my homework first."

"You guess," Rowan teased, lifting her into his arms. "Since when did you get so blasé, kiddo?"

She squirmed, giggling. "I'm the biggest sister, Dad! I gotta be 'spon-ible!"

"Responsible means you have to do your homework before we go shopping, honey," he chuckled, settling her on his shoulders and taking her out to the dining room. "Yeah?"

"Okay," she agreed, clambering off his shoulders and plopping her homework folder onto the table. "I only have spelling and math today."

"Oh really?" He settled down in the chair next to her. "Did you do everything else already?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "An' Miss Remington didn't give us homework for all the subjects."

"I see." Rowan ruffled Lana's hair affectionately, earning himself a grumble of protest. "You just call if you need help, okay? I'm gonna make sure your brother and sister are doing their homework too." Lana nodded, and he went off to find his son and younger daughter in the playroom, Bran noisily driving his beloved toy garbage truck around the room and Emmy building a tower out of blocks.

"Dada!" Bran exclaimed when he saw his father in the doorway. "Look dada! I can make garbage truck go vroom!" He illustrated by pushing the toy halfway across the room, giggling as it flopped onto its side.

"Very nice," Rowan grinned. "Does this mean you did your work, B?"

Bran went over to grab his garbage truck, not quite meeting his father's eyes. "Yeahhhhhhh."

"No you not!" Emmy squealed, smacking her block tower and laughing and clapping her hands as the blocks crashed to the floor.

"Emmy, no!" Bran cried, stomping his foot. "You said you not tell!"

"Okay, son," Rowan interrupted before either of his small children could start throwing things, "what do you still have to do?"

"Reading," Bran mumbled, hiding his face in his dad's shirt. He was in second grade, almost eight years old, and he had to read aloud every day for part of his homework. And he wasn't exactly a fan of that.

"Anything else, bud?"

"Uh-uh." Bran shook his tousled head. "Did addition already."

"Good job." Rowan bumped his fist into his son's much smaller one. "How about you pick out a book, hmm? Let's see if we can get the reading done before Mom gets home."

Bran screwed his face into a scowl. "I don't wanna read!"

Rowan sighed. The daily struggle. "Not even Officer Buckle?"

Silence.

Followed by a pair of big turquoise eyes peering up at him. "Really?"

"Yep." Rowan grinned. "Do you want to read Officer Buckle to me, buddy?"

"Yeah," Bran whispered. He loved that book, he did.

"Okay." He patted his son's back. "Go ahead and get it out, then." Bran ran off immediately, and Rowan turned to his youngest, Emmy, who was in kindergarten. "How about you, baby?"

"I not a baby!" Emmy protested.

"Okay okay, big girl."

"All done!" Emmy beamed. "No homework today, Dada!"

"Uh huh," Rowan drawled. "Should I look at your checklist?"

"Yeah!" Emmy ran off to grab it, returning a moment later with the purple sheet of paper. "See? No homework today!" She displayed the chart proudly, showing off how all the boxes for the day were already checked off.

"Good job, sweetie!" Rowan gave his youngest a high five. "How about you help me start dinner?"

Her eyes widened. "Can I spin salad?"

"Sure," he chuckled, hoisting her into the air as she shrieked with laughter. "I'll let you spin the salad."

"Yay!"

With one eye on Emmy, who stood on the stepstool and enthusiastically pushed the salad spinner, and one on Bran, who sat on the floor reading aloud, Rowan managed to start dinner prep, only taking a couple of breaks to help Lana finish her worksheets. He was helping Emmy put the salad into a big bowl while chuckling along with Bran at the funny story (which he'd heard a thousand times) when the garage door swung open and a pair of heels clicked against the wooden flooring.

"MAMA!" Emmy screeched, abandoning the salad to sprint over and clutch Aelin's legs, talking a mile a minute about her day.

"Hi, lovey," Aelin laughed, stepping out of her heels and scooping her youngest daughter up into her arms. "I missed you, baby."

"Not a baby!" Emmy pouted.

"Right right, you're a big girl now," Aelin amended, smacking a kiss onto her little one's cheek. "And I heard you don't have homework today."

"Yeah!" Emmy beamed. "Lana an' Bran both almost done!"

"Imagine that," Aelin chuckled, winking slyly at her husband. Both of them knew full well how rare it was that all three kids had their homework done or nearly done by the time she got home from work.

"Well, Lana at least has a reason," Rowan hummed, kissing Aelin quickly.

"Oh?"

"Dad and I are gonna go shopping!" Lana declared. "I gotta get Mari a birthday present."

"Right, her party's on Saturday, isn't it?"

"Uh huh! Dad didn't remember that," Lana said with the same amount of sarcasm as she'd explained the dinosaur stuffed animal.

"Dad has lots to remember, I'm sure he just needed a reminder." Aelin smirked at Rowan. How dare you forget her best friend's birthday? her eyes teased.

Rowan sighed loudly. "So little faith in me, I'm wounded."

"Love you too, buzzard," she grinned, letting Emmy return to helping her father and heading off to change out of her work clothes.

After dinner, Rowan kept to his promise to take Lana shopping, and they returned a little over an hour later bearing a large, blue plush dino stuffy and a birthday card. Lana practically talked her parents' ears off about how much Mari loved dinosaurs and how she'd love the present as she signed the card and wrote "MARI" on the envelope in big letters.

"Good night, Lana," Rowan laughed as he tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead. "The faster you go to sleep, the faster it'll be Saturday."

When Saturday rolled around, Lana was up bright and early, though she stayed in her room reading until it was closer to eight-thirty. Then she snuck into Aelin and Rowan's bedroom, stepping across the carpeted floor as quietly as possible.

They both heard her anyway, though Aelin pretended she hadn't.

"Mama," Lana whispered, touching Aelin's shoulder. "Morning, Mama."

"Hmm, good morning, lovey," Aelin mumbled, still not quite fully awake. "What's up?"

"It's Saturday!" the girl beamed, dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"Uh-huh, and it's still early, honey." Aelin squeezed her daughter's hand. "There's lots of time before you have to get ready to go over to Mari's house, okay?"

"I know," Lana whispered. "I just--"

"I WANNA HAVE SATURDAY PANCAKES!" Bran yelled, completely shattering the relatively quiet morning.

Rowan muffled his deep laugh in the back of Aelin's neck, his whole body shaking with mirth. "Someone's awake," he murmured to his wife, reveling in her little snorts of laughter.

"Thank you, Brannon," Aelin replied to her son, raising her head enough to give him a very dry look.

He had the grace to look a little abashed. "Was that too loud, Mama?"

"What have we learned about quiet voices, bud?"

"Use 'em when people aren't out of bed," he mumbled.

"Good." She rolled over, sharing a laugh-laden glance with her husband. "All right, buzzard, who's getting up to make pancakes?"

Rowan made pancakes.

And when breakfast was cleaned up and Aelin was helping the kids get dressed and ready, convincing Lana that she didn't need to change her outfit three more times, Rowan allowed himself to be convinced to braid his daughters' hair.

Gods, if anyone got wind of this, he'd never live it down.

"Who's taking Lana to Mari's?" he asked as he put on decent clothes, finally able to snatch a moment for himself once all of his kids were ready for the day.

"You can," Aelin answered, glancing at the clock. "I've got to be on a call in half an hour." She rolled her eyes, leaning into his warmth. "Wish I could pass it along, but tax season waits for nobody, you know?"

He kissed her temple. "Yeah, and you're right there to talk sense into your worried clients, Fireheart."

"Damn right." Rising onto her tiptoes, she pressed her lips into his, the kiss sweet and tender. "Don't let the moms proposition you!" she teased as he headed downstairs to make sure Lana had everything ready.

His groan echoed through the whole house.

Rowan mentally braced himself when he pulled up to Mari's house, preparing to do the polite thing and stop to say hi like all the other parents--mostly moms--did when they dropped off their kids. So he walked Lana up to the house and barely had time to say "bye" before she was running off with her friends, giggling and chattering with the glee of youth.

"Mari's gonna love the dinosaur," a woman's voice to his left said lightly.

He turned to find a woman who looked almost exactly like her daughter giving him a crooked grin. "Oh--yeah, that was all Lana's idea, I just took her to the store," he admitted. "Rowan Whitethorn."

"Asterin Blackbeak," the woman replied, shaking his hand kindly. "Brave of you to drop your daughter off."

Rowan huffed. "I'll say. Not to be offensive, but the moms scare me."

Asterin smirked. "Believe me, I'm happily married, but I too am guilty of having slightly inappropriate thoughts about that tattoo of yours."

"Gods," Rowan groaned. "Please tell me my wife wouldn't want to hear those thoughts."

"Depends," Asterin laughed. "How does she feel about the mamas eyeballing the local DILF?"

"She loves it," he admitted.

"Then no, I probably shouldn't give her more fuel for her jokes." Asterin winked. "But just so you know, that cluster at the door? Not one of them has looked away from your ass since you walked in."

"Aaaaand this is where I leave," Rowan joked. "Nice meeting you, Asterin."

"Enjoy your day!"

Rowan made it back to his car with a minimum of blushing, because he very much did hear the snickers and whispers from the aforementioned cluster of mothers. And every word he picked up made him want to scream.

Gods burn him, he could only hear so many comments about that ass before he lost it.

Which must have shown on his face when he returned home, because Aelin flashed him a knowing grin from the office and was still wearing that little grin when she got off her call.

"Poor buzzard," she crooned, letting him bury his face in her shoulder. "Were the horny moms ogling you again?"

"Too much," he mumbled.

She snickered, running her fingers through his hair. "Well, at least you won't have to deal with it any more today."

"I won't?"

"No." She dropped a kiss onto his forehead. "I'll go pick Lana up." A wicked grin curved her lips. "And we'll see how those moms react to the local MILF, won't we?"

~~~

TAGS:

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@stardelia

@shanias-world

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@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

@lovely-dove-zee

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

@elizarikaallen

@llyncooljones

@booknerdproblems

#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #dad rowan #dilf rowan #the whitethorns #answered prompt #multiple prompts in one day yes

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house-of-galathynius · 1 year

Text

Sacred Heart

Bonus Chapter

A second November 10th Rowan Week fic! This one is a little more sad, but it’s dad Rowan nonetheless. @rowaelinscourt

CW: implied SA, mentions of SA

Word Count: 1.2k

~~~

Rowan liked to think that over the last fourteen years he had started to perfect aspects of parenting. After all, he did have five children. And had spent most of those fourteen years dealing with every problem under the sun— from kids misbehaving, to illnesses, to sneaking boys into the house. He prided himself on being an understanding father, never judging his children until he had the full story. But he had to admit that when Maia had come home that evening— drunk— he had not expected their conversation. Nor had he expected the guilt and anger that had come along with it— and the absolute uselessness he felt as well.

At nineteen, Maia was as independent as a girl could get. She had moved out to go to a university five hours away and visited only when she felt necessary. Although she still loved to see her parents and she was a doting sister to her younger siblings, she liked to have her space and had always held everyone at a little bit of a distance.

Rowan had stayed up to put Aelin at ease. His wife worried Maia might need someone to look after her when she got home. So he had sat in the living room flicking through random books and flipping through the various TV channels until he had heard the familiar click of the door and then the cursing as Maia stumbled inside. He got up from his chair, groaning a little as he did, before meeting his daughter in the hallway.

Although she was legally allowed to drink now, she still gave him a guilty expression as she pulled off her shoes, heavily relying on the wall to keep her propped up.

“I promise I didn’t drink that much.” She slurred. Although he words seemed to be a little forced and the grin on her face not quite meeting her eyes.

Rowan chuckled and offered his arm to her. “Let’s get you some water before you wake the entire house.”

Maia clung to his arm, Rowan placing her down on the chair in the kitchen as he went to the sink and filled a glass. He didn’t say anything as he sat next to her and watched as she knocked back the whole thing and then asked for another.

“Did you at least have a good time?” He asked.

“Arobynn’s son was there.” She said carefully. Something in her voice changing as she said the words.

Rowan stilled and he gripped the glass tightly, his knuckles whitening. “I thought he moved to the city.”

Maia shrugged. “Guess he was back for the holidays too.” His daughter looked like she wanted to say something more, but thought better of it and sipped her water again.

Rowan didn’t want to push it. He knew that it never went well when he forced any of his kids to talk when they didn’t want to. So he ignored the look she had on her face and went to the fridge instead and pulled out some leftovers from dinner. “Want some food?”

Maia nodded. Suddenly very quiet.

He moved around the kitchen quietly and eventually placed the steaming food in front of her. “Your brothers wondered if you’d take them swimming tomorrow.”

Maia nodded once and moved her food around the plate. Rowan was going to let her be, leaving her to eat in peace. But Maia put her fork down a little too forcefully and then turned to him, her eyes sadder than before.

“Daddy…”

Rowan was beside her in an instant. Tucking her hair behind her ear and wiping away the tears that were starting to fall down her face. “What happened?”

Maia shook her head and stood from her chair. She didn’t go far though, merely moving towards the sink and leaning against it as she stared out into the dark garden and the fields beyond. Her body was shaking and Rowan could see the tears that were still falling down her face.

“Snowdrop,” Rowan said ever so gently, “you can talk to me.”

“I—“ She turned around and buried her head into his chest.

Rowan’s own heart was breaking. He hated his children being sad. He hated watching them cry and not being able to do a single thing about it. And it hurt even more when it was Maia— she was always such a strong person, just like Aelin— so seeing her vulnerable and unhappy like this hurt him too.

“I had too much to drink,” Maia whispered, “he cornered me—“

Rowan didn’t hear what she said next. All he could see was red. His ears were ringing and he staggered back a step, trying to comprehend what his little girl was saying to him. He shook his head in disbelief and then ran a hand through his hair, his eyes turning watery too.

“I didn’t know what to do.”

Gods.

His baby girl.

He was meant to protect them. He was supposed to be there for them and make sure they were safe and happy, he had to make sure that they never had to experience anything like this. But his beautiful, strong, lovely daughter was telling him something he couldn’t fathom— something that was breaking him in two.

Rowan took in a deep breath and finally met Maia’s gaze. “Are you hurt?” His voice was like steel, he was trying more than anything to keep his temper level, to not scare her any more than she was.

Maia shook her head. “He didn’t get to—“ she choked on the words, “you know. I… I managed to get away from him before it went that far. But...” She sniffed, her tears falling harder.

Rowan didn’t need to know exactly what that boy had done to her. He didn’t need to hear her say the words or expand. The fact he had touched her in any way without her permission was more than enough information for him.

“He said that if I told anyone he’d make sure my life was ruined.”

“You know I won’t let anything happen to you.” Rowan didn’t have the words like Aelin might have. He was barely able to keep himself together right now. But he managed to bring Maia in for another hug, his arms coming around her gently, careful not to make her feel trapped. “I’ll make sure he pays for this.”

Maia shook in his arms as she cried. She gripped his t-shirt tightly in her hands and sobbed into him. His heart was hurting. No one had prepared him for this. The books he had read and the movies he had watched had never prepared him for something this tragic. Where there was no amount of kind words or hugs that could rid his child of the hurt and the despair she would be feeling.

“Maia, do you want me to get your mum?” He asked softly, stroking her hair and pulling away a little.

His daughter shook her head. “I just want to shower. I feel— I don’t know. Dirty.”

Rowan nodded in understanding. “What can I do?”

Maia wiped her face and tried to smile. It was weak and not at all like her, but Rowan felt some sort of relief mixed in with the anger that she could manage to smile at all.

“I don’t know. I think right now,” she shrugged, tears forming again, “right now I just need my dad.”

~~~

Tag List:

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life @fireheart-violet @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @becarefuloflove @goddess-aelin @thegreyj @leiawritesstories @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn

#rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowan #rowan whitethorn #dad rowan #sacred heart fic #sacred heart

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thylacid · 2 months

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draw sparkpelt

of course 🫡🫡🫡 I LOVE YOU SPARKPELT

#awesome rowan art #warrior cats #sparkpelt #is anyone like sick in the head abt her in tbc #is anyone else out there still thinking abt how her 'father' tried to kill her with dogs (the same way his dad killed people once)#im fucking crazy abt her

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arrgh-whatever · 3 months

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#maric #a little comic so I'm not completely inactive here #just for clarification: that's not his dad that's his brother (Rowan the oldest one)

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murmel-malt · 5 months

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"Should you indeed force me to wed, I am afraid you will rather quickly find yourself the father of a widow."

Lady Lorra Lynderly, the Viper of the Valley

#my art #oc: lorra lynderly #house of the dragon #fire and blood #asoiaf #house lynderly #fyeahhotdocs #a self-indulgent doodle of rowan's bff and the Vale's no1 mean girl #the fourth daughter / 7th child of Lord Lynderly of Snakewood #second son energy cranked up to 11 #rowan and her bond over their shitty dads and alliterative names #fic: a blade that never stops cutting

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sunshades · 1 year

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everyone have a happy problem girl february!

first outfit based off a jean paul gaultier 2014 look 👀🦋🧡

#umineko #beatrice the golden witch #battler ushiromiya #shades art #been going thru it a lil art wise but i've had these doodles for a bit and they are silly but <3 i care them #everybody thank rowan for the outfits and my parents for doing crosswords together and then my dad gets annoyed and googles the answers and #my mom goes like ????? STOP THAT U ARE CHEATING IF YOU DONT KNOW THEN U DONT KNOW. which needless to say is....

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listerbirdloml · 9 months

Text

The Death of Your Dog, The Stretch of Our Skin.

Summary: At fourteen, Rowan's dog died. At fifteen, Jimmy's grandmother died. And now, at twenty, Lister has lost his father.

Characters: Alister 'Lister' Bird, Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Rowan Omondi, Piero Ricci, Chiara Ricci, Graham Duncan, Mention of Cecily Wills and Louise Bird.

Warnings: Death of an animal, grief, self effacing thoughts, strong language, minor violence, someone says the wh*re word, someone also tries to say a racial slur but they do not manage to.

Ships: Bicci kiss teehee

Word Count: 4.6k

just a little thing I wrote about the ark boys comforting one another through different types of grief. PLEASE BE KIND IVE NEVER PUBLISHED ANY WRITING BEFORE LMAO

Tilly Omondi.

When they were fourteen, Rowans dog died.

It had been a truly unremarkable day at school. They played in the music room, ate their lunch, attended their afternoon lessons, and then walked to Rowans. He had the better gaming system out of him and Jimmy, and he even had the new Red Dead Redemption game. He’d gotten his mum to buy it the day it came out, and now they were all excited to see how it was. Especially Lister, since he didn’t have a play station or anything of his own.

As they walked down the road to Rowans, conversation flew freely among them. Per usual, it was dominated by Lister and whatever random topic entered his mind. Jimmy was content to sit back and listen, chipping in whenever he thought of something relevant to say. Meanwhile, Rowan was more than happy to shut down particularly stupid conversations Lister started or rise up to the challenge whenever Lister turned to teasing him.

When they arrived at Rowans home, the three boys began untying their show laces and shucking off their winter coats. It wasn’t exactly freezing anymore, but it was cold enough for the jackets to still shelter them from the Kent winds. Earlier in the winter, Rowan noticed Listers coat wasn’t the warmest, so he’d given him one of his own under the guise of wanting to get rid of it.

When Rowan opened the door, the lack of four legs bounding towards them was immediately noticeable. Tilly, the Omondi family dog, was a little white Jack Russell with the sweetest of nature. She was a lap dog at heart, rarely barking. She was always found greeting anyone who entered their home at the door, her little tail wagging while she waited to be greeted in return.

"Mum?" Rowan called out pensively, thinking perhaps she’d taken an impromptu walk with the little dog. There was noise from the kitchen, as though someone was startled at the idea of Rowan being home at the time he was.

"Hi sweetheart." Came the call from Rowans mother, but she didn’t leave the kitchen. Lister thought he could hear a waver in her voice. But then again, he was starting to believe he was hardwired to detect the negative emotions people portrayed. even if they weren’t there. "Uh, Ro, can you come to the kitchen, please?" Rowan glanced at his two friends who waited in the doorway, all three clearly confused. With a gesture signalling the other two to wait, Rowan headed down the hallway and disappeared into his kitchen.

Standing just the two of them, Lister suddenly ran out of words. He was entirely focused on a loose thread in his school shirt, and Jimmy was too nervous to start a conversation himself. If it wasn’t in band practise or their shared history lesson, Jimmy found it difficult to talk with Lister. He found the other equally intimidating as he was admirable.

The blonde had definitely made huge progress with his confidence around the two friends, but deep down he was still pretty shy. He still held the fear that he was only there because he knew how to play the drums. He was a friend of convenience until Jimmy and Rowan could afford another drummer or even meet a better one. A drummer who wasn’t self-taught like he was, someone who could actually afford the lessons needed to become successful. While he still had these fears and and worries, he had begun to use them for the better. He was worried about being replaced in their band, and so he practised as hard as possible. He was worried about being replaced in their lives, and so he made as big a space for himself as he could. A space big enough that they would sorely miss him should he leave it.

"So uh-" Biting the bullet, Lister had gone to say something. But as he did, Rowan reappeared down the hallway, shoulders slumped, and face a mixture of shock and tears. All trace of nerves or awkwardness had immediately subsided from the two left in the hallway, both meeting Rowan half way. Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder, his own face contorted with worry. Lister didn’t doubt that Jimmy had thought up every single worst-case scenario he could.

"Tilly died."

There were two sharp inhales, and then silence.

Neither seemed particularly sure how to continue, but they both knew that their friend needed them. And so in a fluid motion, Lister and Jimmy had wrapped Rowan in a big group hug, pretending not to notice the way his body was wracked with sobs.

"There was a- a car." Rowans explanation was met with shushes. Lister knew that talking about it more would just upset Rowan, and he had plenty of time in the upcoming days to process the loss. Right now, he was allowed to just feel it. Feel it, with the safety of his two closest friends.

They stood in the Omondi garden, with Lister on one side of Rowan and Jimmy on the other. They both had a head leaning on Rowans shoulders, arms around his middle as he cried. His mother and sister had cried too, but nowhere near as much as Rowan. He had always been particularly close to the little dog.

His dad had just rested Tilly in the ground and let Rowan lay her favourite toys and treats with her before he began to refill the dirt.

Lister had never been to a funeral. Neither had Jimmy.

When Lister was ten, his grandmother on his dad's side passed away. Even though he had been very close with her, his dad didn’t want him at the funeral. He didn’t want Lister to have to stay the few days at his new home; his wife and new kids clearly objected to the older boy’s presence in what was their family home. It wasn’t exactly like he could own a pet either, the landlord of the flat he lived in with his mum was very clear about that.

Jimmy had never been to a funeral because no one in his family had died yet. There had been the rare distant aunty or several times great grand-something or other, but no one closely related to him. The thought alone of losing anyone in his family made him want to lie in the ground alongside Tilly.

"It’s okay, mate." It was Lister speaking, which wasn’t always the safest bet in a rocky situation. But Rowan was too upset to form words, and Jimmy was too scared he’d say the wrong ones.

There’s silence between the trio for a moment, until Lister starts speaking again. "Hey Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can dogs go to heaven?"

"Well... they’re creatures made by God? So, I would assume so."

"Me too! I think if any creature on earth should enjoy an eternity of peace and happiness, it’s dogs. Not humans." He turned his body to face Rowan. "And when your time comes, you can wave up at her."

There’s silence before Rowan chokes out a loud and abrupt laugh. He covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking from laughter even as the tears freely flow down his cheeks. Jimmy can’t help but begin to chuckle too, even if he himself had been tearing up. And when Lister joined them, they came together again in a group hug, sandwiching Rowan.

Joan Ricci.

Jimmy wasn’t in school today.

While Lister himself had missed more classes this year than possibly anyone else in their school, and Rowan wasn’t immune to the odd sick day, Jimmy was never sick. And even if he was, he made his way to school for fear of missing anything important and having his schoolwork snowball.

The most concerning thing about his absence, however, was that he hadn’t responded to any texts from the two boys. He hadn’t even read their group chat either. And now, at four o’clock in the afternoon, the two were headed to the Ricci house, sat on the bus in silence. Thankfully, Lister no longer felt awkward in the presence of one of them alone. He still felt incredibly aware of the split between them, between childhood best friends and drummer, but it no longer prevented him from connecting with either Jimmy or Rowan.

He had just come to accept that he would forever be the odd one out. the one who lived on the council estate, the one whose mum had him as a teen, the one with an estranged dad. He could never compare to Jimmy and Rowan, with their private music lessons and middle-class homes. The kind that weren’t even attached to the houses next to it and were made of the fancy looking red brick.

"What if he's, like, dead?" Rowan interrupted the silence, looking down at his still-unanswered text to their friend. Lister sighed and lightly shoved the bassist on the shoulder. They were almost at the bus stop near Jimmy's grandparents home.

"Mate, you sound like Jimmy when you think like that.

With a reluctant sigh of agreement, Rowan followed Lister out of their seats and down the aisle of the bus to wait at the door for the driver to let them off.

As they walked the last few minutes to the Ricci household, Lister could feel dread settling in his stomach. He didn’t know what for, or why it decided to make itself at home in his gut, but he almost had to stop walking. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. He wasn’t sure if it was with Jimmy or what, but he was definitely more eager to pick up the pace to the Riccis to ensure their singer and best friend were okay.

The first thing they noticed about the Ricci household was the cars parked outside. Neither of Jimmy's grandparents could drive anymore, and Jimmy wasn’t even old enough for a provisional licence yet, let alone a car.

But for some reason, there was four or five cars around the driveway and road in front. Lister glanced at Rowan, the taller one seeming confused as well. But instead of looking at Lister, he kept walking, jogging up the steps, and ringing the doorbell. Lister soon joined him, hands wringing together uncharacteristically. Through the stained glass of the front door, he was sure he could hear soft murmurs from the living room. way more voices than the three inhabitants of the Ricci home. Soon a figure from the inside was moving down the hallway to open the door, and it was immediately apparent it wasn’t Pierreo or Joan. This person moved far too quickly, and before Lister could say anything else, the door was opened.

It was a woman that Lister had never met before, but he could tell instantly who she was. She was tall, about the only thing that didn’t resemble their friend. But the shape of her eyes, the curve of her nose, and the slant of her jaw was almost entirely Jimmy. The grumpy frown was the splitting image.

She had only glanced at their uniforms before she sighed and went to shut the door. "Jimmy can’t come out right now."

"Wait!" Lister cried out, sticking his foot in the doorway. The woman looked mildly infuriated, and distantly, Lister couldn’t help but think this was a terrible first impression with Jimmy's mother. "Is he okay? He hasn’t answered us, and he wasn’t at school. We were just…" Lister trailed off as he caught sight of Piero walking out of the living room.

"Pierro?" Rowan called out, and Lister could hear the apprehension in his tone. The old man’s face had sunken even since they’d seen him at the weekend. They’d been celebrating Rowans fifteenth a week early, and Joan had managed to get out of bed to bake him a huge cake before they had band practise. But now, Pierros eyes looked red-rimmed, and he was leaning heavily on his walking stick with every step.

"Boys," he sighed, joining his daughter in the doorway. Lister was the closest to him, with his foot still in the door. Pierro opened up the arm not relying on the cane, and Lister quickly accepted it for what it was: a hug.

"Is Jimmy okay? Did something happen?" It was Rowan again, and as he pulled away from the old man and glanced at Jimmy's mum, who still stood watching, Lister couldn’t blame the worry in his voice. If Rowan was feeling anything as unease’d as Lister in the presence of the usually aloof CEO, then Lister was unsure how Rowan was so well at hiding it.

"Boys." It seemed that Pierro couldn’t say anything else; his voice was fading. "This morning… Joan passed this morning."

The dread in Listers stomach had spread to his whole body, his heart aching as it pounded a mile a minute in his chest. He couldn’t form words, but tears had begun to well in his eyes.

"What? no… No she… What?" Rowan was scrambling to find the right words. He hadn’t begun to cry yet, but Lister knew it was from shock. His own tears were spilling onto his cheeks already.

"I’m sorry, boys." Pierro shook his head, and as though they were driven by the same force, Rowan and Lister descended on the old man with bone-crushing hugs. He tried his best to reciprocate them, but Lister could feel the quiver of his hands and the shallowness of his breath.

When they pulled apart, Lister wiped at his face a little too aggressively, but his shoulders were still high to his face, and he was still shivering from the force of his tears.

"Jimmys upstairs. I think he might like to see the both of you."

When they opened the door on the furthest end of the upstairs corridor, they noticed the lights were off and the curtains were drawn. There was a figure sitting up on the bed, a blanket draped over their head as they seemingly stared into space.

Pushing the door over further, the creak of it and the intrusion of the hallway light made Jimmy turn his head, the blanket falling to instead rest on his shoulders. His face was void of emotion, but even from where he stood in the doorway, Lister could see how puffy and red it looked compared to normal. Cheeks that still carried baby fat were raw with tears and the motions of wiping them away. Rowan and Lister had only just managed to compose themselves.

No one of the trio said anything; instead, the two newest additions to the room made their way over and sat on either side of the singer. He managed a small smile, trying to convey his appreciation for their attempts at comfort.

"She died." He croaked out, looking between them. Lister had a hand up to Jimmy's face, carefully moving some of Jimmy's shaggy hair out of the way of his face and behind his ear.

"We know, Jimjam." His voice was so foreign, even to himself. It was soft in a way he didn’t know he possessed anymore. He couldn’t help but think he almost sounded like his mum. The hand that had been fixing Jimmy's hair now rested gently on his shoulder, and he used it to bring the smaller one into a hug.

They could feel Rowans arms wrap around them, Jimmy circled. If Lister wasn’t the token atheist of their little group, he would think that it was symbolic or something. The wings of an angel maybe.

They should write a song about that.

Alister Bird.

Bringing a hand up to his earpiece and pulling it out, the full noise of the crowd hit Lister instantly. It was the end of their first show back, and now only Lister stood on the stage. Jimmy and Rowan had already made their exit, and now, standing up from his drum kit and holding his sticks in the air, it was Lister's turn.

He was panting, and he’s sure he looked like a sweaty mess, but the crowd was losing their minds, and he had never felt more alive. He jumped down from the platform where his drum kit was stationed and exited off the side of the stage towards Rowan and Jimmy, who were waiting for him. They both were panting and sweaty, but the grins on their faces resembled their thirteen-year-old selves so much that Lister didn’t care about it when he dragged them into a group hug, jumping up and down from excitement.

"That was fucking class." Lister managed out, his arm still wrapped around Jimmy's shoulders when they pulled away, his boyfriend (boyfriend!) leaning onto him.

"Profound as always, Alister." Rowan teased, the both of them pretending to fight for a moment or so longer before they were all ushered away from the backstage area and towards the dressing rooms.

Jimmy held a firm grip on his hand, and when they found an area secluded enough, he used it to detour them into a hidden crevice. His hands balled into fists around Listers shirt, and he used it to push him against the wall.

Lister laughed, but his chest was still heaving. "Jimjam, slow down." He could see the way the singers eyes drooped, the way they seemed fully focused on the way Listers lips moved around his words. He kept leaning in to try and kiss them, but Lister was feeling mischievous. He kept holding the singer away.

"Lis, I swear to God." He had a glare on his face, trying to appear intimidating. He failed to realise that to Lister, he did the exact opposite. Feeling empathy for the clearly desperate singer and giving into his own urge to kiss his boyfriend stupid, Lister leaned down and pressed their lips together.

He could feel Jimmy relaxing in his hold. He could feel the heat radiating from the frontman's body after the long show, and he could still hear the commotion of the crowd as the lights were turned on and they were ushered out of the venue. It was hard for Lister to believe that he was lucky enough to experience this. Not just the resurrection of his passion for music, but also the chance he’d been given to live a life by Jimmy's side. He’d lived in the frontman's shadow all these years, but now he had been given permission to love him. To kiss him freely without the guilt of another drunken mishap. To hug him without feeling that he had ill intentions.

He hoped the way he held Jimmy could convey all this. It was difficult to show the full extent of your love with only one arm around the middle. To share your soul with someone in the hopes they’ll accept it and, in turn, share their own.

His hands were in Jimmy's hair now, tugging at the strands on the back of his neck. Jimmy's hair had thankfully recovered from the years in which he straightened it, and now it was styled in its more natural waves. It was thick and bushy, and when Lister needed something to do with his hands, he would try to braid it. It wasn’t quite long enough for that, though, as Jimmy still preferred it short.

"Mr Bird."

The voice made both stars jump, with Lister keeping hold of Jimmy until he could see who it was who had interrupted them. He only hoped to God that it wasn’t a fan. But then again, not many Ark fans were middle-aged, bald white men with security written in bold letters over their chests. If this was a disguise to get backstage, it was a damn good one.

"Sorry to bother you, sir. But there’s a gentleman here who says he needs to talk with you." The man held a hand to his earpiece, turning away slightly as he likely received more information. Lister's thoughts had begun to run wild. He wasn’t sure who it could possibly be. He hadn’t spoken to any hookups in months and hadn’t initiated any since he and Jimmy had been talking. The guard turned back to them, ignoring Jimmy entirely. "A Graham Duncan, sir."

While it was clear the name didn’t ring any bells to Jimmy, Lister had sucked in a breath through his teeth so deeply that Jimmy could feel his chest move with it. Lister gently nudged at Jimmy's shoulder, urging him to back up so that Lister could move away from the wall.

"How did he get in?"

"His ID, Mr. Bird. Miss Cecily has a list of approved names, and he was on it, sir."

Lister sighed and rubbed at his forehead, post-show high clearly gone as he looked back to Jimmy.

"There he is!"

There’s excitement in the voice, but the room is silent around him. Rowan was sat on the couch farthest from the door, Lister stood from where he’d been sitting on the sofa, and Jimmy still sat next to his old spot. The father and son stared at each other for a few tense moments. Listers face was unreadable as he crossed his arms over his chest. Graham looked as though he'd been here to joke around with his son, coming close and punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"What you been up to then, boyo?" Lister could see Rowan raise an eyebrow at this, his face screaming, 'What does it look like we’ve been up to?' But Graham didn’t seem bothered by waiting for a response from Lister. He looked around at the two other members of the band, likely not wanting a crowd for his conversation with his oldest son.

"What do you want?" There was no pleasantry in Listers tone. He felt no need to pretend. To act like he and his dad had spoken since he’d turned ten, since his half brother was born and he himself was thrown to the side. Lister was the child born from a teenage mistake to the woman Graham had married for only two years before cheating with another woman. He wasn’t something Graham wanted to remember. And yet, he stood in their dressing room as though they were old buddies.

Graham laughed, spluttering on words for a moment as he clearly struggled to find what to say. "I can’t come see you then?" He landed on, earning a scoff from Lister, who walked away from the older man and made his way to the refreshment table in the corner. It was obvious to those who knew him that he was acting on instinct. Looking for something to drink. Looking for something to take the pressure of the situation off. But of course, there was no alcohol on the table anymore. Just water and juice. The juice would have to do.

"Ally, don’t be like that. You’ve no seen your auld man in donkeys, and this is how you want to act?"

"Lister." It was Rowan who had corrected him, sitting up on the couch and levelling Graham with a glare. While he knew very little of Listers family, he knew that this man was no father. He had just so happened to be Listers biological parent. There was nothing more between them.

"What do you want?" Lister asked again, holding the juice bottle to his lips and drinking almost half of it in one go.

Graham once again looked like he was about to obfuscate, but dropped it when Lister went to turn away from him again. "The house, Alister. It’s gone up... Me and Maria are struggling."

Rowan and Jimmy looked at each other, utter disbelief written over their features. The gaul of the man who had neglected their friend since he was a toddler to then come to him and ask for financial aid?

It would appear Lister also caught the irony, laughing bitterly as he finished the rest of his drink. "The house I have never been to? The house the woman you cheated on my mother with asked you to buy, so that you could play happy families while me and mum rotted away in a fucking council flat?" With each sentence, Listers voice rose higher and higher. "That fucking house?" He rounded the sofas to once again stand in front of the now angry man.

"You can fuck right off." Lister hissed, pointing to the door.

"I am your father, Alister. I helped raise you. You might look back on it now and scoff with all your multi-millions, but it was the damned best I could do." He was shouting too now, poking lister repeatedly on the chest. Rowan and Jimmy had stood up, fearing the worst with Lister's temper.

"You gave my mum fifteen fucking quid a month."

"It was all I had, Alister!" But Lister wouldn’t accept that. He threw the bottle across the room, watching as it grazzed past his father's head.

"Get out!"

"You are fucking pathetic. Your mother did about as much as I did, and you bought the stupid bitch a house? You give her money so she can prance about like she wasn’t some little fucking whore. And now, you’re acting like some big rockstar." He looked at Rowan and Jimmy. "But its just you and two fucking da-"

Graham Duncan didn't get to finish whatever hateful words he had wished to shout, as Lister had slammed his fist right into the centre of his face, feeling satisfied at the crunch of bone he felt and the cry that carried out through the room. The older man seemed to be torn between hitting back and staggering away, but the door was already open, and security was swarming Graham, dragging him out.

"Lis." Jimmy’s hand was on Listers shoulder from behind him, and Rowan was also taking a step closer so that he could make sure his friend was okay. Listers shoulders were hunched, and his face contorted as though he were in physical pain.

"Why... why doesn’t he care? Why does he..." He had begun to cry, and Jimmy was quick to tug him down by the shoulders in a hug. He rubbed at the drummer's back as he cried, shushing him gently to try and calm him down. Rowan also had a hand on Lister's shoulder.

"It's okay, Lis. he's gone." The bassist reassured. The drummer turned his head to look at Rowan, a small and appreciative smile on his tear-stained face.

"Well, he seemed lovely." Jimmy sighed, and Lister couldn’t stop the wet laugh he let out, rubbing at his eyes.

"A fucking delight, right?"

The three of them can’t help their giggles. Rowan quickly checked Lister's fist to be sure he hadn’t hurt it.

No matter how much it had hurt Lister to be confronted by his father, he felt comfort in the fact that he’d always been right about the man. He didn’t care about Lister or his mother. He only cared about himself and what he could get out of people. Perhaps it was a good thing that Lister had been raised by his hard-working and considerate mother. As much as he used to long for a father in his life, he knew now he was better off without him. It was his job to grow up to be a better man. not because of his father, but to spite him, to show him that not everyone was doomed to fall headfirst into the bottle and to never make it out. No. he had reason to live. to live happily.

"If I ever become a dad, I am never asking him for advice." Lister sniffed out, Rowan and Jimmy laughing as they pulled him in for a group hug.

#i was born for this #iwbft #lister bird #jimmy kaga ricci #rowan omondi #the ark #osemanverse #boo we hate listers dad #Pierro Ricci #pls be kind i’m so scared to post this LOL #name is from view between villages by noah kahan

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what-the-floofin · 2 years

Photo

Today we succeeded something very important and Brom needs a goddamn nap

Aboleths are the worst creatures in existence

#dnd #dnd art #centaurs #cervitaur #floof in dnd #its ART #do you know how many nat 20s occurred to make this happen #from EVERYONE today #statistically ridiculous and we are screaming #mentor dad was in a very bad way #Thalo was SO distressed #but damn the plays achieved today *chef kiss* immaculate #we absolutely ruined one (1) aberration's day #with an awesome plan and I am proud of my group and DM #Thalo #Brom #Rowan #Aralia #Ilex

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sassyhobbits · 1 year

Text

"strongest males in the world" to "house husbands" pipeline

i love the idea that, after the war and some kids, rowan and lorcan start to embrace the peace and allow themselves to relax and be soft for the first times in their lives. i hope everyone enjoys these as much as i do❤️

#pictures of chris hemsworth w his kids were used as references #but im now 100% a dad bod rowan and lorcan supporter #my art #rowaelin #elorcan #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre

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blogplutopools · 4 months

Note

ROWAN IS SO ADORABLE I CAN'T GET OVER HIS LITTLE BABY FACE AND LITTLE FLOPPY EAR RAHHHHHHHHH HE IS BABY

aww thank you!! i'm so glad you like him <3 fun fact: his ear stays that way even during adulthood :3

#he's just a little guy #rowan makes rocky cry sm...#proud dad #rowan is like the completely opposite of rocky though lmfao

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leiawritesstories · 2 years

Note

Here's a prompt

Rowan as a stay home dad or just getting out of his job and going to pick up their children from school and all the teachers and mothers drooling after him

Thx💚

i mean, Rowan is canonically a dilf, right? ;)

word count: 1,558

warnings:

enjoy!!

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

Every afternoon when he drove over to the elementary school to pick up his kids, Rowan wished to all things holy that his car had all tinted windows, because gods above, the staring was going to be the death of him. It was all he could do to climb out of the car and walk over towards the playground to collect his children without dearly wanting to crawl into the blacktop pavement and die from embarrassment.

Children everywhere, and still the parents and even the teachers had eyes for nothing but him.

But he had to go and physically check out his kids, because they were all too young to check themselves out and go to their dad’s car. They had to be in fourth grade or above to do that, or have an older sibling in fourth grade or above, and his oldest was still only in third grade.

Today, it was like the usual “sneaky” glances had been amplified by a thousand as he strode across the blacktop to where his daughter’s class was waiting in their line. He swore there was even a muffled wolf whistle that followed him as he passed a certain cluster of moms, all of them in their twenties, all of them blatantly sweeping their false-lashed gazes up and down his form.

“Afternoon, Mr. Whitethorn.” one of the bolder moms simpered, smirking flirtatiously at him.

Rowan grunted something that sounded vaguely like a hello.

“Guess he doesn’t speak much,” the mom murmured to her friends, just loud enough for him to hear.

“That one doesn’t need to speak,” smirked another mom. “One word and I’d do anything he tells me, oh yes I would.”

“And you’d do it with a ‘yes, sir,’ wouldn’t you?” the first mom snickered.

The cluster of mamas broke into giggles and snorts. Rowan locked his jaw and kept going, imagining all the things his brilliant accountant wife would have to say to the moms if and when she ever came to pick up her kids. God, he wished Aelin were here, wished he could watch her grin her vicious grin as she no doubt retorted with something that would leave the smirking moms in complete and utter shock as well as leave him with a mighty blush.

“Dad!” His oldest daughter’s voice broke through his thoughts as she waved to him from her class line.

“Hey, Lana.” Rowan closed the distance between her and where he’d been standing, nodding casually at her teacher.

Who blushed like a schoolgirl as she checked Lana’s name off on her list.

“Have a lovely day, Mr. Whitethorn!” the young woman crooned, blushing up to her ears.

Hell, Rowan groaned internally, the teachers too?!

Lana was apparently oblivious, tugging on his hand. “C’mon, Dad! We gotta go pick Bran up!”

“I haven’t forgotten, Lana,” he chuckled, allowing his eight-year-old to pull him in the direction of Brannon’s first-grade class. “Hey, buddy!”

“Dada!” Bran yelled, running to his father as fast as his six-year-old legs could carry him, rules of checking out be damned. “Wanna see my new band-aid?”

“Slow down there, B,” Rowan laughed, nodding to his son’s teacher. The older woman nodded back, checking off Bran’s name on her clipboard.

“Don’t let that one near the slides for a few days,” she called, winking at Bran. Rowan had been a fan of the teacher the minute he and Aelin met her on their son’s first day, the woman’s obvious love for teaching and affection for the kids she taught evident in the way she structured her class and treated no child any differently than the others.

“Noted,” Rowan grinned, huffing a soft laugh. “Bud, you been going down the slide on your tummy again?”

“Nooooooo.” Bran widened his eyes into the portrait of innocence.

Kid got that one from his mother, he did.

“You have to be careful, Bran,” Rowan reminded the boy, ruffling his hair. “Show me the band-aid when we get home, yeah?”

“It’s Batman!” Bran crowed, beaming like it was an achievement.

Lana snorted. “It’s still ’cause you got hurt.” She tugged on Rowan’s hand again, pulling him towards the parking lot. “You’re so slow, Dad!” she complained. “We still gotta get Emmy from daycare.”

“Like we do every day,” Rowan added, clicking the button to unlock the car so his kids could clamber into their seats. With some pushing and shoving, as the little one always did.

Some ten minutes later, they pulled up to the daycare building and all piled out, the kids running ahead of Rowan to push the automatic door button. They were obsessed with automatic doors lately, taking every chance to go through a sliding door at a store and press all the buttons whenever they saw one.

Rowan ducked his head into the door of Emmy’s room, his youngest daughter spotting him immediately and sprinting to him with all the speed her three-year-old self could muster. “Dada Dada!”

“Hi, baby!” Rowan beamed, swooping her up into his arms. “You have a good day?”

“Lot better now that he’s here,” one of the teachers whispered from her seat by the door.

The other one snickered. “Who needs Tinder when you’ve got eyes on a real life catfish?”

For the umpteenth time since going to pick up his kids, Rowan felt his face start to burn. Even the daycare teachers couldn’t let a day go by without commenting on his appearance. And they were young, younger than the teachers at the elementary school, so it really was like avoiding teenagers.

“Thanks,” he threw over his shoulder as he herded his children out to the car.

“Dada I paint!” Emmy declared, thrusting a paper in his face.

He laughed, buckling her into her carseat. “Hold it a little farther away, sweetheart. Dada can’t tell what pretty picture you made if it’s so close to my eyeballs.”

Emmy giggled. “Is puppy!”

“It’s beautiful, baby.”

The puppy was extremely...colorful. Yes. Colorful.

And yes, he’d be hanging it up on the fridge when they got home. One simply did not put his children’s artwork anywhere else.

Twenty minutes later, they were piling out of the car and racing inside, the older ones shoving each other aside to claim the prize of pounding up the stairs like any herd of elephants while Emmy squirmed and wriggled in Rowan’s arms, demanding a snack. He just kissed her blonde head and let her run around the living room with her siblings while he got some snacks out.

The snacks, of course, were gone in under ten minutes. Because his children had inherited Aelin’s eating habits along with her irresistible puppy eyes.

And then the Whitethorn kids made their way out to the backyard, running and yelling and expending all the energy they suddenly had. Rowan watched them fondly through the kitchen window as he prepared dinner, only having to duck outside once when Lana tripped over something and all three kids somehow ended up in a pile of arms and legs and disgruntled squawking on the grass.

Aelin’s car pulled into the driveway just as he’d called all of them in to wash up for dinner, which was forgotten as soon as their mother walked into the house.

“Mama!” Emmy screeched, throwing herself at Aelin, her little arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

“Hi, lovey,” Aelin laughed, winking at Rowan as she stooped down to hug her baby. “What did you paint today?”

“Puppy!” Emmy proudly showed Aelin the newest fridge decoration.

“I got a Batman band-aid!” Bran declared proudly, displaying his scraped knee and the Batman bandage atop it.

Aelin pressed her lips together to squash down her mirth. “What have we discussed about you coming home wearing more band-aids, Brannon?”

“It was an accident!” he protested. “And I’m fine, Mama!”

“Bet you are,” she snickered, kicking out of her heels and kissing her son’s messy head before rolling onto her toes to kiss Rowan. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, my love.” He took Emmy into his arms. “Let’s let Mama wash up too, yeah?”

“I hungry!”

“Yeah, and you have to wash your hands before dinner, right, little one?”

“With soap!” Lana chirped, pushing her brother back into the bathroom. “You never use soap, Bran.”

“Do too!” he yelled.

“Whoa there,” Rowan interrupted, breaking them apart before either one could smack the other. “Can I see your hands, Bran?” His son reluctantly held up his hands.

“I washed,” he mumbled.

“With soap?”

No response.

“Want to wash up in the kitchen sink?”

“Yeah!”

So Rowan held him up to reach the kitchen sink and let him scrub his hands that way. Aelin grinned, brushing a kiss onto his jaw as she passed to go change.

“Marry a man who’ll raise your kids right, they said,” she teased.

“Not you too,” Rowan groaned.

Her laugh echoed through the house. “School moms checking you out again, Ro?”

“When are they not?” he grumbled.

She winked. “Ain’t none of them got a real life, don’t worry about what they and the margarita they drank right before they came to the school say.”

He snorted. “Touché, Fireheart.”

She blew him a kiss. “Don’t let the kiddos eat up all the food! Or else I’ll have to eat you for dinner!”

Gods, he couldn’t be reacting to her like that with his kids right there.

~~~

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