#like a couple of scruffy teenagers who run around in the woods

[hollymacycomic]

Today's guest comic is drawn by Pen (@ epipencils)!

This is the last comic for guest comic week! Holly & Macy Chapter 4 begins on March 8th. See you next week. <3

#guest comic #webcomic #is that your fursona meme #comic artist #drawing comics #webcomic artwork #when pen told me his idea for this comic I was like GOD yes please draw it!!!! it's beautiful #I also looove how the characters look in his style on the second illustration. they have a quality about them that rlly makes them look #like a couple of scruffy teenagers who run around in the woods

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 17: Together Forever (originally posted on July 5, 2021)

AN: Welcome back my loyal readers! Sorry to keep you all waiting these past few months, but I know the wait will really be worth it. The final two parts of Alternate Future might be some of my greatest writings yet, and I'm more than excited to share it all with you starting today. Now without further ado….

Synopsis: Steven tries to become Connie's official boyfriend.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Estelle as Garnet

Charlyne Yi as Ruby

Erica Luttrell as Sapphire

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl

Grace Rolek as Connie

Dee Bradley Baker as Lion

Kimberly Brooks as Cherry Quartz

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Featuring Ray Chase as George Ikari

--

Pearl stood in line at the Buddwick Public Library alongside many other parents and parental figures like her, waiting as a bearded, glasses-wearing Japanese-American man signed books at a table.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to not be from around here, right?" a single dad standing behind Pearl asked her.

"Well, technically yes," Pearl informed the father. "I come from a planet of beings similar to myself who are all based around gemstones, which explains my appearance. Also, just last week I helped save your world from a sociopathic revolutionary, so you're welcome."

"You foreigners say the craziest things!" the father giggled in disbelief of Pearl, who just groaned flatly as the line began to pick up.

Eventually, Pearl was at the front of the line and now face to face with childcare author George Ikari, who had his fingers clasped together as he gazed at Pearl.

"Let me guess, you are here because of your own son, daughter, or whatever pronouns your child prefers to be dubbed?" George asked Pearl while he took out another copy of his book, titled "When Your Child Wants Time Apart", to sign for the Gem.

"Well, he's not really my son, but Steven is the closest thing my team, the Crystal Gems, have to one after his mother died giving birth to him." Pearl explained as George got to signing. "And that's not even getting into the fact that his mother was a former despotic alien conqueror who grew tired of her life and the constant neglect from her fellow despots, so she faked her death because of how much she valued your planet as part of a big war, then thousands of years later she met a rock star and fell in love with him before they consummated their relationship and she gave up her physical form to give birth to Steven."

George just stared in shock at Pearl's tale before she tried to continue. "And just last week, there was this other Gem with a vendetta against Steven's mother who tried to destroy the planet and kill us a-"

"Stop." George commanded Pearl with a raise of his hand before handing over the signed book. "Just take the book and leave. Your tales are holding up the line."

"What did I tell ya, foreigners say the craziest things!" the single father from before laughed.

"I'm deeply sorry Mr. Ikari, it's just that Steven has been going through some rough times lately." Pearl apologized to the author.

"I completely understand miss." George said while pulling out his phone to show Pearl a picture of his own son, a young man with scruffy brown hair, a white dress shirt, and a nervous expression on his face. "My son Shane has had his fair share of troubles ever since his mother died, troubles that he insisted on running away from rather than facing them maturely."

"Just like Steven." Pearl compared the two boys sympathetically. "I am deeply sorry for your loss sir."

"Thank you for your kindness." George smiled, putting away his phone. "The best thing I feel could work for a situation like this is to let things play out and discuss his problems when the time is right."

"Thank you very much George." Pearl thanked the author as she finally began to leave the library with her new book in hand. "Though I doubt that'll be of any use to Steven."

--

Not too far away from the library, Steven was sitting in his room talking to Connie on the phone while she was on her study break.

"Wow Connie, looks like you got all this college stuff figured out." Steven laughed with his dear human friend over his phone.

"I've got a whole plan figured out for early admission into the University of Jayhawk, but I'm still not sure about my major," Connie explained to Steven. "Maybe I should major in political science and minor in sociology, or perhaps the other way around."

"Did all our galactic adventures together get you interested in politics?" Steven asked.

"Maybe." Connie chuckled. "But I'm thinking more down to earth, as far as long-term careers go." As the two laughed at Connie's pun, the timer on her phone began to go off. "Wow, fifteen minutes went by pretty fast."

"Aw man, these study breaks are too short." Steven complained before he realized something. "Hey wait, you left a brochure at my place last time." He stated, pulling out a brochure for Connie's college of choice to show her. "You want it back?"

"It's alright Steven, I still have two more, and the Internet too." Connie answered smiling.

"Oh, right." Steven realized. "Well, call me when you still wanna hang out, okay?"

"You know I will, silly!" Connie beamed. "Okay, for real now, bye!"

After Connie ended the call, Steven turned over on his back and gazed at the brochure in his hands. "The University of Jayhawk, huh?" he muttered to himself. "And how far is that from here?" Steven then opened up the brochure to learn how far the distance between Beach City and the university's location in Kansas was. "Oh, that far."

Once again, Steven began to glow pink as he sadly sank into his bed, fretting over how little often he'd be able to see Connie regularly. Gazing at his rose-colored hand, he then started pondering on whether he should do something about this new condition, as he had been thinking about since the titanic battle with Black Rutile.

--

Soon, Steven had decided to get up off his bed and walk downstairs, to which he found Garnet standing in the living room dressed in a hat and kerchief. "Oh Garnet, you're still here?"

"Steven." Garnet greeted Steven tersely.

"I could really use your advice right now." Steven declared racing over to the fusion. "It's about-"

"Not right now Steven, I gotta split." Garnet cut Steven off before un-fusing into Ruby and Sapphire.

"I'm terribly sorry Steven, but I'm running late for my lecture on alternate timelines." Sapphire apologized while taking off the scoutmaster's hat and giving it to Ruby, along with a kiss on the cheek, before racing off to her lecture. "See you soon!"

"Sapphire might be going, but you still got good ol' Ruby to talk to." Ruby said to Steven as she went to fetch a backpack. "Let's walk and talk scout, I got things to do."

"Oh, okay." Steven agreed as he followed Ruby to the Warp Pad, and the two set off.

--

Later that day, Steven had joined Ruby's class, consisting of Onion, Zebra Jasper, and Little Larimar, as they strolled through the woods on a gorgeous afternoon. When the class got to a good stopping point near a stump, Ruby hopped up on the stump to speak. "Okay everyone, you remember what we learned last week, right?" she asked her students. "Well, today is the day! Brace yourselves, 'cause today we're sketching nature and the animals around us!"

Onion and his Gem classmates excitedly took out their notepads to draw on as Ruby continued. "Draw to your heart's content scouts!" Ruby declared. "Feel the beauty of everything around you, and you'll have the honor of receiving this Nature Sketching Badge!" She then presented a patch depicting a paint palette and brush in front of depictions of a wolf and a bird. "Got that? Now get to drawing!"

As soon as the three pupils left to go draw the beauty of nature around them, Ruby took it as her cue to jump down from the stump to talk with Steven. "So, what did you need Garnet for?"

"It's about Connie." Steven admitted to the small red Gem. "Every time I talk with her, I feel like she knows exactly what to do with her life, mostly thanks to her parents, and I don't. When we're together as Stevonnie, I feel so ready for anything, but on my own, I feel so lost. Just, what do I want with life?"

"That's tough Steven." Ruby declared sympathetically.

"Exactly!" Steven replied. "Connie is gonna go super far away for college, and I'm gonna be stuck here in Beach City where barely anything can go right for me nowadays and I don't know what to do about them! I want to be with Connie forever, like how you and Sapphire are basically together forever as Garnet!" That was when he came to a conclusion. "Wait, if I want to be together with Connie, then she's my future!"

Steven's revelation made Ruby super excited, and she began scuttling in place with stars in her eyes, her rapid footsteps creating a small fire beneath her feet. "STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN!" she cheered, but stopped short once she noticed the fire she created. "Oh my gosh, one sec!" Ruby quickly ran off and came back with a towel that she used to put it out. "Anyways, STEVEN, YOU GOTTA PROPOSE!"

"Wait, propose?!" Steven exclaimed in shock. "But, we're only teenagers, we can't get married yet! But then again…"

"Don't say you haven't thought of it!" Ruby added cheerfully. "Besides, aren't there couples in this country that get married at 18 or something?"

"Y-yeah, I thought of it." Steven began blushing, which he tried to hide within his jacket. "I mean, we just had this discussion."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Ruby yelled happily while jumping up and grabbing onto his head. "DO IT, DO IT, DO IT! DO IT LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!"

"Are you still really sure?" Steven asked the overly eager Gem. "As I said, Connie and I are still only teenagers."

"C'mon, we told you about how it worked for Sapphire and I." Ruby responded. "And if you're successful, you'll have the honor of receiving this!" She presented Steven with a badge depicting one figure popping the question to another. "The Proposal Badge! And if you're not so sure, well, seeing the future would be really helpful here."

Steven gasped, knowing just who Ruby was implying.

--

Far away from Ruby, Sapphire sat down with her class, made up of the Watermelon Tourmaline fusion, two of the Nephrites, Orange Spodumene, Cherry Quartz, and Angel Aura Quartz, while drawing lines in the sand with a stick.

"Okay class, let's begin our lesson." Sapphire announced to her students when she spotted Steven racing towards her with a big smile on his face. "Ah, Steven. I've been expecting you."

"Hi, Sapphire." Steven greeted Sapphire. "I'm sorry to interrupt your class, but I got big news! I've been thinking about my future with Connie lately, and a chat with Ruby convinced me that I should propose!"

"Wait, don't you have to wait until you're a grown-up to do that?" Cherry Quartz inquired with a raise of her hand.

"Let me guess, you're here because of my future vision?" Sapphire asked. "Let's run the numbers then." She then let Steven stand next to her before beginning to speak to her class. "Okay class, let's review what we've learned today." She began while drawing complex math equations in the sand. "Using the concepts we discussed so far, let us calculate the probability of Steven succeeding in asking Connie to marry him. Let's begin with the probability that she'll want to spend her life with someone, and then we'll multiply that by the differential factor in sociocultural marriage acceptance. Next, we multiply that by a possibly happy cohabitation, the factor of fear of engagement, the intensity of the love you share, and finally the robustness of your goals in life." As Sapphire finished her equation, she finally turned back to Steven. "Are you following so far, Steven?"

"Uh, maybe?" Steven answered as he stared at the equation Sapphire had jotted down for him in the sand, but it wasn't long before the ocean tides began to wash them away. "Oh no, your work!"

"And there we have it." Sapphire declared with a chuckle. "Don't you get it, Steven? My marriage to Ruby, our fusion as Garnet, it eluded my future vision for so long, defied the odds, and perhaps even changed the course of time itself!" she declared encouragingly. "We could just write equations in the sand all day, but then a wave of chance can come crashing in and wash everything away! Love is truly unquantifiable! Even with my gift of clairvoyance, I know far better than anyone that love can make the impossible possible! And that is why I say do it! Do it, Steven, just do it!"

"Yeah, you're right!" Steven began getting pumped up before turning to Sapphire's class. "Get one last good look at me, everyone, because after today you're gonna be calling me Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran!"

The class began cheering vibrantly, bringing a big smile to Steven's face as he finally realized what his future now held.

--

As the afternoon slowly began to give way to evening, Ruby and Sapphire reunited by rushing towards each other on the sand, excited about the big proposal.

"Steven told me first, and I led him to you!" Ruby cheered, spinning her little blue wife around by the waist.

"I told him to go for it!" Sapphire laughed. "Oh, it's going to be so wonderful!"

As the two fused back into Garnet, she stood still for a few moments, contemplating her components' decisions before coming to one of her own. "I take full responsibility for their actions." Just then, Garnet heard footsteps and found Pearl walking behind her, her pointy nose stuck in a book. "Pearl, I'm guessing you want to see me about the book you're reading."

"I was just thinking about calling up you and Amethyst," Pearl announced as her gaze turned from the pages to her leader. "Where's Steven?"

"Oh, nothing much," Garnet answered. "Just going to make a rash decision that'll emotionally damage him in the long run."

"Oh, that's ni-" Pearl began before she did a double-take. "WAIT, WHAT?!"

--

As for Steven, he was too busy getting ready for an evening with Connie without a care in the world, picking up a cake from Spacetries that said 'Together forever!' on it, buying some flowers from Crazy Lace Agate, lighting up the glow bracelet that brought him & Connie together to begin with and dressing up in some nice clothes. If all goes well, he would soon become Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran.

Meanwhile, at Connie's house, Connie kept on studying for the University of Jayhawk when she heard a roar coming from outside her window. Walking over to the window, she discovered Steven parked outside her home with Lion by his side.

"Evening Connie, how are you doing?" Steven asked his ladylove.

"Steven?" Connie replied. "What are you doing here, and why are you all dressed up like that?"

"You got a fifteen-minute study break in two minutes, right?" Steven inquired, gazing at his watch to check if his timing is correct.

"Whoa, spot-on!" Connie exclaimed, gazing at her phone to learn that he was indeed right. "So, what did you come here for?"

"You want to go for a walk with me?" Steven offered. "I'm sure you could use some fresh air."

"That's very sweet Steven." Connie smiled. "I'd really love to, but I-"

"Don't worry, we can take Lion, and then I'll bring you home in fifteen!" Steven declared with a thumbs up.

"Okay, let's do this!" Connie accepted the offer and left her room to meet Steven outside, taking a moment to tell her parents along the way. "Bye Mom and Dad, I'm spending my study break with Steven!"

Once Connie was out the door, she and Steven mounted on Lion's back and he ran away from the Maheswaran residence.

--

"Remember when we first met here?" Steven asked Connie as they dismounted from Lion and began walking down the beach.

"You mean when you tried riding a bike in the sand and then started running away screaming?" Connie replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I was trying to get your attention." Steven added.

"Last I remember, I was more focused on my book than your silly antics." Connie stated.

"Well, that all happened right here." Steven declared, gesturing to a picnic at the very spot where he and Connie first met all those years ago. "You like what I have here?"

"Steven!" Connie exclaimed in awe at the picnic set before them. "I don't know what to say! I also can't believe you still remember this exact spot!"

"I just remember it like it was yesterday!" Steven exclaimed just as eagerly before running over to a nearby rock to sit on.

"This is too cute." Connie squealed while blushing.

"And without further ado," Steven announced as he picked up a guitar to play while Connie sat down. "There's something very important that I'd like to tell you today." With that, he started strumming the guitar and began to sing. "I'd rather be tall, I'd rather be smart, I'd rather be sure you know I care." He sang for Connie. "Wherever you go, wherever you start, I'd rather be sure you know I'm there. I'd rather I always be a part of whatever you do. I'd rather be me, with you."

Although Connie was a little turned off by the deeper meaning of Steven's song, she chose to just keep those feelings hidden to not hurt Steven's while he continued singing. "Wherever we go, I already trust, I'd know what to do if it were us. I'd know what to say, I'd know how to be, I'd know your entire syllabus." Steven continued as the song reached its climax. "I can't think of any other thing in the world that I would rather do. If I could be, I'd rather be me with you."

"Oh Steven, that's so beautiful!" Connie applauded the love song. "If a little unsettling, but I'd rather not say it out loud because-" Steven then got down on one knee and presented him her old glow bracelet. "Huh?"

"Connie, will you marry me?" Steven popped the question at last.

"Come again?" Connie asked, completely taken off guard by such a proposal.

"Let's get married and live together as Stevonnie, just like Garnet!" Steven reiterated for his possible wife.

"Are you serious?" Connie chuckled at the marriage proposal. "I think we should talk about this first."

"You might think I'm being sentimental, but this makes sense!" Steven exclaimed. "I don't know what you'll be studying, but I'm sure Stevonnie will! We can go to Jayhawk together!"

"I really appreciate this little date, but come on! You're still young!" Connie said as she stood up. "And acting a little clingy, I might add." She added under her breath.

"What was that?" Steven asked Connie.

"Nothing!" Connie lied. "Like I said, we're still young. And even if some couples get married at like, eighteen, I don't think we're fit to be one of those."

"So, you don't want to be Stevonnie with me?" Steven asked despondently, but Connie was there to comfort him.

"Of course I'd want to be Stevonnie, but I'd like to be my own person too," Connie answered reassuringly. "You get that, right?"

"Yeah, but," Steven began while putting the bracelet away as Connie hugged him. "Is it a no?"

"I'd say it's not right now." Connie answered.

"But if we're going to spend our lives together, why didn't you say it now?" Steven kept on inquiring fretfully.

"We got plenty of time." Connie declared, moving on from hugging Steven to holding his hands. "Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried, honest." Steven tried correcting his best friend. "I'm just happy when I'm with you."

"I'm happy around you too." Connie replied. "It's just that-" Before Connie could finish, the alarm on her phone went off. "Oh snap, my alarm!" she yelped in realization while pulling her phone out. "Forget studying right now, I don't think it matters."

"But it does matter to you!" Steven yelled.

"And you're just as important!" Connie responded, beginning to notice Steven getting more stressed out.

"I'm fine, we can talk about it later." Steven began rapidly panting. "Look, Lion's still right there, you can go now."

"Are you sure Steven?" Connie wondered sympathetically. "You're looking a little on edge. Maybe I can hook you up with a good therapist. She's a good friend of my mom named Dr. Rebe-"

"I'm sure I'm fine." Steven cut Connie off. "Now go."

"Okay." Connie obliged before giving Steven a goodbye hug. "I'll call you again tomorrow at noon." She said before walking towards Lion to have him take her home.

"Have fun studying!" Steven continued putting up a happy front as he bid Connie farewell. But as soon as she was out of sight, that front completely fell. "Nobody I love ever wants to stay."

With that, Steven fell back-first to the sand and turned pink, the resulting impact ruining the nice picnic around him as he wallowed in a crater of his sadness, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

--

Many hours later, Steven kept on lying in the crater long into the night with tears in his eyes, and when he finally decided to get up, Garnet was there waiting for him with the picnic basket containing the cake still intact.

"I assume it didn't go well." Garnet theorized as she helped Steven up from the crater and began walking him home.

"I don't get it," Steven muttered cynically. "Ruby and Sapphire said I should go for it, and I did, but everything went wrong."

"I apologize on their behalf," Garnet stated. "You just can't trust love advice from hopeless romantics like those two."

"Then why didn't you stop me?" Steven asked the fusion.

"I couldn't see a future where you didn't try proposing to Connie," Garnet answered. "However, there were quite a few where after she said no, you forced her to fuse with you and subsequently went insane."

"Of course." Steven moaned. "Even in alternate timelines, nothing can ever go right for me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Garnet comforted her half-human ward with a hug to the side. "Your soulmate should be your complement, not a missing piece. Ruby and Sapphire may deeply love each other, but they still have their own thoughts, feelings, and lives." The pair soon reached the beach house and sat down on the steps together. "Whatever hole you have in your life Steven, I want you to know that Connie or Stevonnie might not fill it."

"It's just that you guys make it so easy!" Steven revealed as he took the basket from Garnet. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but it's kinda your fault for being so dang perfect!"

"I know you're upset Steven, and I take responsibility for your plight," Garnet apologized to Steven. "but blaming others as much as you blame yourself won't help."

"Then maybe shoving this adorable cake in my face will!" Steven declared as he opened the picnic basket to reveal that the cake was in pieces.

"It probably won't." Garnet deadpanned, but Steven didn't listen and started eating the broken cake anyways.

"Well, I'm still gonna do it!" Steven exclaimed, his mouth now full of cake.

"I know," Garnet added as she gazed up at the sky. However, what she didn't catch was a fly buzzing around her and Steven, and its green eyes started blinking.

--

"Ah, romance. So utterly futile." Black Rutile grimaced as she watched the live footage of Steven drowning his sorrows in cake through a hard light welding mask. "Still, all that trauma could be useful in the future."

As Black Rutile was spectating on Steven's pain, she was hard at work on her plans for revenge, using a blowtorch to put together the final touches on a special wrist-mounted device. Once she was done, the villainous Rutile aimed the device at a rock carved into the exact shape of White Diamond's gem and fired. The resulting blast destroyed the rock and left a massive cloud of ash where it once was, but she wasn't satisfied with the smattering of pebbles that once made up the rock.

"Hm, need to work on the disintegration aspect a bit more." Black Rutile pondered while retracting the welding mask into her visor and began going back to the drawing board.

--

Guess who's back? Back again? Black Rutile's back, she's no friend! And on that rather sad turned ominous note, we conclude the first chapter of Part 3. Now that we have Steven's romance issues out of the way, expect to see the following in the coming chapters, in no particular order.

Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl re-enact Ace Attorney while Steven becomes even more scarred for life.

Viva Los Diego! Lapis & Amethyst get involved with a James Bond parody, Garnet & Bismuth solve mysteries together with a police officer who's basically the Plumber from Ratchet and Clank, Pearl matches wits with a snooty film director who's like Michael Bay, David Cage, Neil Druckmann & Zack Snyder in one, and Peridot tries promoting her CPH reboot.

Steven hangs out with Spinel and plays basketball with Wolverine.

Peridot finally gets her own song.

Jasper finally gets her own song.

A certain Stevonnie-chasing jerk dares Steven to reform him.

And finally, Black Rutile plays a role in a certain event in Fragments, the final chapter of this part.

Have I gotten your interest yet? Good, cause strap in everyone, it's gonna be nuts.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #connie maheswaran #garnet #ruby #sapphire #pearl #lion steven universe #black rutile

[kickingitwithkirk]

Blame the Pot Pie

Summary: Dean and Y/N have a little too much fun after a hunt resulting in an unexpected dilemma.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline

A/N: for @amanda-teaches #2k writer+reader challenge

Word Count: 2623

Warnings: angst, kissing, fondling/foreplay, oral teasing, mention of unprotected P/ V sex-wrap it up kiddos, some cursing, public shaming, mentions of drug use, drinking, unplanned pregnancy, use of Plan B One-step, possible pregnancy termination

Prompt: “Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!”

A/N II: Cherry-She completes your life

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Colorado 

I slowly wake up so relaxed I can’t remember the last time feeling this good. The hunt turned out to be a simple salt and burn and after grabbing a shower and a bite, we stopped at the local dispensary to pick up a few necessities and found couple new items to try.

Stretching languidly, I glance over my shoulder at Dean, tiger striped by the morning light seeping through the drawn blinds, asleep on his stomach clutching his pillow, thankfully not bunched up under his head making him snore. 

Many moons ago, I learned the hard way not to disturb a sleeping Dean Winchester when I tried to roll him over to stop the horrendous snoring he’s capable of when completely exhausted. That little maneuver got me the barrel of his Colt 1911A1 in my face and incoherent yelling. 

I slept with Sam for a long time after that.  

Smiling, I remember Jack telling me Cas calls Dean a very angry sleeper, like a bear. Can’t argue with feathers on that.

The bed dips behind me and a strong arm wraps around me with a smooth, sleep warm chest pressing flush to my back, “Wha’ so musing?” Dean’s drowsy, gravely voice asks as he nuzzles into my neck.

“Remembering a Cas’ism,” I replied, wriggling closer, his morning wood pressing against me, “Someone's wide awake, didn’t get enough last night?” Dean rocks his boxer brief clad cock against my ass in response. 

“Or a little while ago?”

“Never get enough Cherry.”

I’ve always heard Dean call women sweetheart and occasionally baby but the first time Dean called me Cherry shocked the hell out of me. 

I asked him if he knew what that nickname meant, after all, this is the guy who called himself meat man to his own brother. 

He winked at me, cheeky bastard.

I shift onto my back as Dean moves to straddle my thighs, locking them between his muscular ones. Starting at my hips his calloused hands slowly glide over my body, pushing the t-shirt I stole from him to sleep in up, exposing my skin to his hungry gaze. 

In our world, Dean Winchester is considered the best hunter alive, his only equal is his brother Sam. But there is another side to him that's rarely seen, reserved only for those who are family.

Dean can be incredibly gentle, loves waking me up with his teasing touches. Reaching my breasts, his thick fingers massage my nipples, sending shivers through me, pinching them hard enough they pebble up before continuing on to my arms, guiding them upwards and pulling the shirt over my head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

Leaning over me Dean braces himself on his strong forearms entwining our fingers. He’s close enough I feel his breath on my face as I untangled my right hand and caress his scruffy cheek, tracing his full lips, feel him smile against my fingertips. 

He turns his head and kisses my palm before closing the sparse distance to my lips, running his tongue across them, encouraging me to open up to let him explore inside. 

Boy, does this man know how to kiss.

Dean pulls back, my bottom lip between his teeth before letting go, moving to kiss along my jaw and shifts to latch onto my neck, sucking on my pulse point.

“Hmm, you're gonna give me another hickey,” Dean sucks harder in response. I grab his hair on top where it’s longer, tugging till he pulls off to look at me. 

His eyes are dilated and not just from desire. 

“Dude, you’re still stoned.” I grin at him. Last night we kicked back with a few beers and a joint, trying a new hybrid strain.

Then came that pie.

“ ‘m not,” Dean tried sounding indignant before laughing, dropping his head back into my neck as we both laugh uncontrollably. I love to hear him sounding so untroubled, doesn’t get to do it enough.

Our outburst causes certain bits of us to rub together, reigniting our lust. Dean starts moving southward again, lips and tongue caressing my skin along his travels, stopping at his chosen destination and looks up at me licking his bottom lip.

“Frigging tease!” I pull his hair harder. 

He smirks and, without breaking eye contact, slowly runs his tongue up over my outer lips before sliding off the end of the bed, turns, bending over sheds his underwear before walking towards his duffel.

Man has no shame so I freely admire his retreating posterior view.

Hunting has kept Dean fit the nearly twenty years I’ve known him, even with the double bacon cheeseburgers with extra onions and copious amounts of booze, thou not quite the same body he had at twenty-three.

I’ve witnessed guys our age be greener than his eyes envying his not-a-dad-body, possessing the juiciest peach of an ass on any man I’ve ever known. 

He’s rooting in his duffel muttering, not coming up with a condom. “Try the table,” spotting the Walgreens bag by the empty pie tin. 

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean exclaims, running both hands through his hair in his shitshitshit gesture looking panicked at the table. 

I sit up...ooh crap, I feel a warmth spreading between my thighs that shouldn’t be. 

🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧

“What do you mean I can’t purchase it,” I’m about to go mental on this bumfuck towns pharmacist refusing to sell me Plan B, “I can see it right behind you.” 

“I’m sorry I’m unable to sell you the Plan B-One Step today, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He raises his voice for the benefit of the locals eavesdropping on our conversation. 

“Wait, I can purchase it tomorrow but not today,” I’m confused as hell and stare incredulously at the guy, “what’s so special about today?”

“It’s the sabbath, you should consider repenting for your obvious sins.” He retorted.

I blink not sure how to respond what this AssButts implying... when it hits me.

It’s the guy who runs the dispensary we went into last night, chatted with us, recommending some items to try. He saw us kissing and cuddling like a couple of teenagers (who'd thought it would take Chuck ending the other realities for Dean Winchester to PDA) must've overheard Dean whispering graphically on how he was gonna savor that pie and me, then slyly pointed out a few the topical products to try for a happy ending.

I suddenly feel like Olive in Easy A when everyone’s talking about her as I hear the tittering around me get louder, comments about the way I’m dressed, not having a ring on it, and the visible hickeys on my neck at my age. 

Jealous much?

I look down realizing I had grabbed the first articles of clothing within reach, turns out to be Dean’s stuff that’s to big on me, including his boots.

And like Olive, I’m taking back control.

”Romans 2:3 And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them which do such things, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape the judgment of God?” 

You could hear a pin drop, “Y’all need to consider that before passing judgement on others,” I clap back and head high, walk past the shocked gossip mongers towards the exit, ”especially ones versed in Hermeneutics.”

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We crossed the Kansas border around eight that night, same Motörhead cassette playing all day. We haven’t spoken since leaving the motel late this morning. 

Dean's jaw’s still ticking, he’s gonna have a helluva headache. His hand has a death grip on the wheel as he reaches for the Impalas lighter, igniting what must be like his eighteenth cigarette. There’s only one reason he’s smoking since Sam got him to quit umpteen years ago.

Dean’s freaking out. 

I slide across the seat and ran my fingers along the back of his neck, lightly scratching into the short stands. “It’s both our faults, stop castigating yourself. I’ll get the pill tomorrow, being at the bunker it will be better when I take it, had a nauseating headache and cramped like hell last time.”

He shot me a surprised glance, “You, khmm, you had to… before?” His voice rougher with all those damn cigarettes.

“Once, wasn’t gonna chance it that one had slipped past the goalie.” 

When Dean and I finally got together we agreed since so much of our lives is built on lying to others to get what we need, there wouldn’t be any between us. But breaking a lifelong habit is not easy, we’re still figuring stuff out and on several occasions intentionally hiding things has almost ended us.

Dean snubs out the cigarette, takes my hand and kisses my palm before entwining our fingers, resting them on his thigh rubbing his thumb over mine. I scoot closer, place my head on his shoulder and he turns to kiss my forehead comforting me.

“Don’t even think about kissing me on the mouth before brushing your teeth twice and gargle with holy water mister.” I growl mimicking his scary Dean voice and he gruffs out a laugh like I hoped he would.

“I’m sorry I’ve reacted like that back at the motel. I’ve never forgotten before, no matter how loaded I’ve been. Except that once…”

Dean’s voice falls off at the memory of the only child he’s positively known to have had, the Amazon daughter who’d have killed him if not for Sam.

I turn and kiss his cheek before laying back against his shoulder for the rest of the ride home.

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The Bunker

Seven weeks later

“The stay-at-home orders will be extended for another two weeks as the state has seen a rise in positive coronavirus cases over the weekend. Officials say this is likely due to the expanded testing around the state…” 

“You could’ve sent us frogs or locusts but noooo, had to get creative on this one Chuck.” Dean sarcastically grumbles, switching off the kitchen radio and finishes cooking his breakfast. 

Jack had grabbed a bowl of cereal before disappearing with Cas researching some new cryptic info that Billie had dropped on them the other day. Dean heard the main door bang shut at Sam’s returning from his morning run. 

As he passes the freezer he grabs a smoothie setting it on the counter to thaw out since Sam’s drinking some weird concoctions for breakfast these days.

Sam enters the kitchen unexpectedly still in his sweaty clothes carrying a couple store bags and a concerned expression.

 “Um, Dean, I don’t think Y/N has the flu,” he remarks, pulling out the unmistakable yellow and blue box. “I bought these two months ago.” 

Dean looked up from his plate of bacon and cheesy eggs, eyes focusing on the unopened box. “Since when do you get my girlfriends things?” He asks, nodding at the box. 

“Tampons, Dean. I’ll sometimes pick them up for her when it's my turn to do the shopping. I got these at CVS,” Sam shows him the receipt he found with them, “Y/N usually gets them from Rite-Aid.” 

Dean clears his throat, mentally wincing at how his brother seemed to know more about Y/N’s preferences than him, “How do you know that’s the box you bought, maybe she got them there too?” 

“The date on the receipt and she hasn’t updated her app.”

“App?” Dean inquires around a mouth full, looking confused.

“So a few days ago I was showing Jack the new archive program when a notification popped up about Y/N’s Period Tracker not being synced in fifty days. I didn’t think anything of it, figured she missed it with everything going on, Jess sometimes did with hers. I checked the WC and found these. I checked again today they were still there and she hasn’t entered her last two periods. I stopped in town and got this.” He hands the other bag to Dean.

Dean opens the bag like something’s gonna attack him before gingerly pulling out the Clear Blue Digital Pregnancy Test.

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“It could be wrong, a false positive because she took it wrong.”

“All you do is pee on the end of the stick and wait three minutes for the results,” Sam's tone exacerbated at his brother's bullshit excuses, “even you couldn’t screw that up Dean.”

“She could be in that peripause.”

“What the hell is peripause?”

“Don’t you know what it’s called Mr. Know-it-all?”

“Peri-menopause,” My voice booms throughout the library startling them both, “and FYI you two, when a woman hits her forties all this,” I say gesturing in a circle around my middle, ”doesn’t automatically stop functioning normally.”

“Your forty-one! The chances of you getting pregnant goes down after thirty something!” Dean snaps setting me off in a nanosecond.

“Halle Berry got pregnant the old fashion way at forty-seven!” I shot back really pissed at the shitty excuses he’s trying. “Should’ve known you’d react like dear old dad to unwelcome news.”

Sam shot out of his seat at the expression crossing Dean’s face, contorting into the look that makes monsters with any sense run for its life, ready to step in if needed.

“Since I can’t go to the clinic thanks to Chuck's latest temper tantrum get Castiel so we can settle this,” I head for the doorway leading to the kitchen and pause.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. It’s obvious you don’t want to have a baby w...” I hurried out not finishing the sentence. Fucking hell, I’m hormoning already.

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Dean can’t stop pacing back and forth in my bedroom as Castiel gently lays his hand over my lower abdomen and closes his eyes in concentration. 

“Come on man, is she or isn’t she?” Dean impatiently barks at the angel.

“Dude!” Sam snaps with his exasperated little brother expression from the desk chair he’s seated upon with Jack perched on the desk itself.

Cas opened his brilliant blue eyes wondrously staring into mine.

I stare back. 

“Yes, you are pregnant.” 

“How the hell are you pregnant? You said you took the morning after pill!” Sam’s chair scraped the floor as he jumped started by Dean’s lashing out at me in anger. I don’t react knowing it’s his go to coping mechanism when he’s scared.

“She took the pill Dean.” Cas reassures him at the same time tipping his head to the side reading what I’m not voicing. 

I can’t believe it failed..what could it do to the fetus...the alcohol and drugs I’ve ingested all this time...

Castiels rough voice takes on an unusually gentle cadence snapping me out of my own head, “I do not detect any birth defects Y/N, they are quite healthy.” 

“Wait, what do you mean they Cas?” Sam speaks first seemingly the only one who caught the last bit. 

“Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!” Jack excitedly blurts out, “I’m gonna be a big brother!”

“I think we should leave. Dean and Y/N have a lot to discuss.” Cas says getting up cocked his head at Jack to proceed him out the door. Sam gives his brother a look I can’t decipher.

“I’m good Sammy,” Dean tells his brother so he’ll go, not breaking eye contact with me. 

Sam gazes over at me and I nod it’s fine to leave. He squeezes Dean’s shoulder and heads out shutting the door behind him.

We stare at each other for a few moments before Dean rubs his face and walks over sitting down on the other side of the bed and pulls me into his arms, neither of us ready to face the decision that makes the most sense.

tbc

A/N: I originally planned on ending this here. That being said, I am seriously considering doing a part II because I hate breaking Dean’s heart.

A/NII: I’ve gotten a lot of great feedback and will be doing a part Il.

Find it here

#2k writer+reader challenge #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline

[spirit-of-the-void]

Gunpowder and Flower Petals (Dante x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 4

Author’s notes: Back at it again, on sundays now! Have some cute date stuff, I worked very hard on it <3

                                                 Chapter Four

                             ~Strawberry Crepes and Coffee Mugs~

Dante, for all his time spent fighting demons and trying not to die, could not remember the last time he was so god damn nervous.

Holding your hand, heading toward a quaint-looking bakery near your shop was somehow harder to handle than facing a horde of one hundred demons. Although that could be attributed to the fact that he was used to such scenarios. Swinging a sword, firing a gun, the spray of blood from some scumbag demon...that was the life he knew. Not this--a life of sunshine, flower petals and soft domestic things like going on a date. Growing up as he did, even dating as a teenager was never really an option. Always back to targets, to fighting--blood, steel, and bullets. Content to just look at magazines and flirt with the occasional woman who crossed his path, which somehow always led to him getting stabbed, beaten, or shot. He got the message right away that maybe love and romance just wasn’t in his cards. So...Dante the Devil Hunter  gave up on relationships, and stuck to what he knew.

Until today, that is. What in the world was it about you that changed his mind, that brought down some of his self-imposed rules he always abided by? You left him a bumbling mess, which usually Dante would hate and try to avoid at all costs. But like a moth to the flame, he returned almost eagerly to keep this connection to you. Because despite how off putting it was to feel silly and flustered by a woman, it was nice. Maybe he was just getting too old, craving normalcy in his life after all these years of just dealing with Vergil’s messes and fighting demons? Whatever the reason, Dante felt like his heart was ready to burst from pounding too hard, working overtime at even the slightest things that should in no way be that exciting. The soft skin of your warm fingers, the way your eyes lit up when he returned to the store...no woman had given him these feelings before. Even the sight of sunlight glinting off your curls had him light headed and almost entranced.

Maybe you were a fae. One that was enchanting the devil hunter and would someday steal him away into the woods, never to be seen again.

Regardless, he couldn’t really care. Dante had gone through all the necessary steps for this date that Trish, Lady, and oddly enough Vergil had deemed acceptable. Upon seeing his brother ready to leave the house in the same leather and dull t-shirt Vergil looked damn near close to bursting a blood vessel. The women had given him a crash course on how to treat a lady on a date, and Vergil had flung the button up at his face with a bottle of cologne. Dante wasn’t sure how to feel about his outfit, but at least he managed to trim up his face and pull back the hair. You deserved far better than some scruffy mess to take you out on a date, and yet here Dante was walking down the street for some lunch. Holding hands with a flower girl, trying to justify to himself why it was acceptable to be here.

Seeing you look so happy...maybe it was worth it.

Because Dante couldn’t deny the excitement in your eyes, the way your soft lips tilted up in a very obvious display of delight. It was still surprising that such a gentle woman would want to know someone like him, who would be eager to just talk and have some lunch. Oddly enough, he found himself incredibly eager as well--you were kind and made for easy conversation, presence alone enough to make the demons and bloodshed of his line of work seem far away.

The answer to your question, of what his favorite sweets were, was enough to make your face light up like a child on Christmas morning. For a second, Dante thought he saw a new flower appear in your curls, but maybe it was just hidden underneath? You certainly had a talent for pinning flora to your head.

“I love strawberries!” You exclaimed, smile cheerful and hand squeezing his a bit, “I grow some in my garden! Alex and his wife use them for pastries and desserts sometimes, so I’m fairly positive you’ll be able to try some.”

How often his mind seemed to forget, you owned a flowershop. It made sense that more than a few flowers would be grown there.

Dante smirked a bit, expression wry as he met your bright eyes, “You never cease to amaze, sunshine. I might have to buy some off of you when we get back to your shop.”

God, the way your cheeks pinked ever so slightly at his praises did things to his heart. What in the world was wrong with him? He gave girls compliments all the time, hopelessly silly flirting that meant nothing and just boiled down to him getting shot or punched. But when it came to you...maybe it was different when he was actually trying?

“N...nonsense! They grow super fast, and I...I’d happily give you some for free.” You disagreed softly, hiding your embarrassed expression behind your curls a little bit.  

He chuckled in response, noticing a few more flower petals scattering out of your hair as he replied, “Can’t deny a pretty girl her business--what kind of guy would I be then?”

You flushed more at that, looking absolutely frazzled. It was incredibly cute, so much that Dante was having issues keeping his own emotions in check. Heart racing, free hand practically making tracks in his goddamn hair...Years of fighting demons hadn’t prepared him for dating, not by a long shot. It was so strange--it felt like every single bad habit he had grown accustomed to in the past few years was coming back to haunt him. The way he ate, acted, the recklessness…and it was only day one. How the hell was he supposed to get through hours of trying not to make an absolute fool out of himself?

The answer to that question? He was going to make a fool out of himself no matter what.

You finally reached the bakery before a reply could be formed, Dante making sure to open the door for you like a gentleman would. A smile curled your lips as you stepped inside, now surrounded by the deliciously warm aroma of baked goods and coffee. Lunchtime seemed relatively calm despite the obvious popularity of a local business, tables dotted with an occasional couple or singular human enjoying lunch before going on with their day. It was a far cry from the boring, company owned coffee places Dante usually stopped at for his usual cup. Bright, vivid, warm and inviting--even the man behind the counter smiled eagerly upon your arrival, easily recognizing you and looking absolutely delighted. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his fifties or sixties, with little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. This was definitely Alex, no doubt about that.

The man in question set down the mug he was cleaning, coming out from behind the counter as he greeted warmly, “Y/N! Thanks for coming by, we haven’t seen you in a while!” His gaze lifted to Dante, who was still holding your hand after opening the door. The devil hunter expected wariness, maybe worry at seeing someone like him accompanying you at all. But there was only curiosity, and a hint of surprise as he asked, “Never seen you come in with someone before! Who’s your friend?”

You seemed to be trying your best not to get flustered, but there was a hint of pink to your cheeks regardless. Dante held his hand out for a shake before you could reply, giving enough time for you to gather yourself as he provided helpfully, “Dante--you must be Alex, yeah?”

The baker had a firm handshake, seeming pleased with Dante’s friendliness as he hummed, “That’s me! My wife and I run this fine establishment, and Y/N here is a sort of business partner--she provides wonderful seasonal fruits when our sellers fall short! Don’t know what we’d do without her.”

You managed a light huff at that, looking far more collected while being appropriately modest, “You’re far too kind...you and Bella do a lot for me, some cases of strawberries or blueberries is nothing in comparison.”

By your tone, it seemed like you were trying very hard not to take credit for anything. 

Alex grinned cheerfully, turning his gaze back to Dante as he continued, “She’s far too modest for her own good--but enough about that, you two came in for some food right?” The baker looked a bit playful, raising a brow at you and chuckling lightly, “How about we set up you and your date with some lunch?”

The very mention of “dating” made your cheeks flush, a handful of petals drifting out onto the floor from those beautiful locks. Dante tried not to smirk, he really did, but seeing your reactions was just so fucking adorable. Though he did notice that there was definitely more flowers in your hair, there was no mistaking that--he wasn’t sure what kind, but they were bright and beautiful as they drifted some soft flora onto the ground. Alex seemed used to it, not minding at all as he gave a hearty laugh and gestured to a nearby table for you both to sit down. 

“Take a load off--I’ll let you both look at some menus and come by with whatever you want,” Alex hummed, practically skipping back to the counter with a good-natured smile as he winked at you both, “My treat.”

Dante was flattered to say the least--He may not be the wealthiest, and struggled to manage money without Vergil there to manage the funds, but he would be damned before he let his date pay for the food or whatever they were out doing. This baker seemed determined not to let them spend anything, however, which Dante was tempted to argue with. There was obviously no need--you beat him to it easily. 

Alex’s firm declaration made you sputter instantly, blinking owlishly at the man as you protested, “B...but I have money, surely you don’t need to--”

“Nonsense! I’m not taking a dime from you or your date.”

Alex waved away your protests, heading back into his kitchen to probably tell his wife you were there. He was a pretty nice guy--Dante could respect someone like him, a man who rooted himself in kindness and wholesome business practices. Once upon a time, the devil hunter could have seen himself doing the same thing when he grew up...as a child, he imagined a slew of things as his future. Police officer, baker, business owner, musician--it changed like the wind flowing, sparking with whatever held his interest at that time, or from whatever book or show he was into. He was different than Vergil, who only seemed hellbent on being just like their father. Sword fighting and training were always for fun, something to do with his brother.

Danted missed those days.

Focus, idiot.

Dante turned his attention back to you, not shocked when he found you staring after Alex in exasperation. You slumped in your chair, letting out a low sigh and pushing some curly locks back in a gesture that was almost...shy. It was definitely cute, and those pretty cheeks were still flushed. Dante felt his woes and musings about the past slowly start drifting away, like flower petals on the breeze as he smirked and finally met that wonderful gaze--there was bashfulness there, and a hint of embarrassment. There was so much he wanted to know about what went on inside your head, where your thoughts were going. 

“People really care about you, sunshine,” He mused, plucking up two menus from a nearby holder and holding one out to you expectantly. You looked surprised by his comment, even more so when he continued on, “Don’t be too upset with your friend--nice guy that one. Though I gotta admit, he did steal my thunder a bit...here I was gearing up to pay for it myself.”

That made you smile softly, opening the menu to hide your face behind it. Didn’t do much good, he still saw a bunch of petals scatter out onto the floor and parts of the table.

“W...well...we might as well eat…” You murmured, clearing your throat a bit and peeking over the object shielding you from view, “For the record, you...you don’t have to do that…”

“Do what?” Dante replied, raising a brow and leaning his head on one hand.

You flushed a bit more, squirming in your seat and blowing a petal out of your face. He fought a chuckle, enjoying your reactions and mannerisms far too much.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Was your eventual reply, nose scrunching up a little bit as your eyes darted back to the menu, “I don’t want to inconvenience you is all. It’s...It’s just the first date and I...um…”

Damn, he felt like a giddy kid at his first school dance. Dante couldn’t help himself--a bit of an awkward chuckle escaped his lips, one hand scratching underneath his loose ponytail in a display of his own nervousness.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I made a nice lady pay for everything?” He tsked slightly, a few strands of hair falling loose when he shook his head, “Don’t worry yourself, sunshine. Ain’t no way in hell you could ever inconvenience me.”

You just sitting here with me is proof that some higher power is giving me a blessing.

Your cheeks flushed again, head ducked behind the menu as you pretended to scan for something to eat as a means of distraction. Dante could only chuckle softly, closing his own menu after picking exactly what he wanted with ease. This place definitely had the fixings to make his sweet tooth happy, no denying that. Pastries, cookies, cakes, bread, sundaes, parfaits...It had been awhile since he treated himself to anything other than cheap pizza and beer. Vergil hated both, but it was all he would allow Dante on their newfound “budget”. Things had gotten easier since their demon hunting was being technically counted as government work while things were so hectic, but...this was a nice change of pace. Sitting in a bakery with a beautiful girl, getting to know her over some sweets and coffee...it seemed so far from what he was used to.

Regardless, a beautiful woman appeared out from the kitchen, hair in braids and looking just as cheerful as Alex was. She was wearing an apron stained with flour, dusting off her hands even as she clutched a little notepad for taking orders--no doubt Alex had informed her of you being in the bakery with someone new, blushing and on a date. Her green eyes lit up when she spotted the table, curious and eager when she took in the white-haired male lounging calmly and you hiding your face behind a menu. Dante tried to make it seem like he hadn’t noticed her, tapping your foot under the table to get your attention--she hadn’t approached the table yet, and was merely hovering near the counter spying with absolutely no subtlety. Not that he minded--it was just a little odd in his opinion.

You jolted as soon as his foot touched yours, sitting up straight and meeting his gaze. The devil hunter grinned, pointing lightly while hiding it behind his other hand.

“I’m guessing that’s Bella?” He hummed low, leaning closer to you for some semblance of privacy. Your flushed face was absolutely adorable, but you did put your head nearer to his, listening closely and nodding at his question.

“It is...I’m sorry…” Your voice was soft, filled with hesitation as you tried not to make it obvious to Bella that you were talking about her, “M...maybe we should have gone somewhere else...I hope my friends aren’t bothering you.”

Dante immediately shook his head, heart squeezing at the forlorn look in your eyes. Precious girl was concerned about his comfort, which was sweet to say the least. But...the devil hunter wasn’t bothered, not when he knew damn well Trish, Lady, and Vergil had to be somewhere nearby watching in secret. All three were way too curious to stay behind at Devil May Cry while he went on a date, no doubt about that.

So Dante reached out, gently grasping your fingers, enjoying the way your eyes lit up and cheeks flushed pink in response.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” He winked,  giving your hand a light squeeze before leaning back again, “I’m not bothered at all--I’d even venture to say I’m having a lot of fun. I don’t get out too often like this, it’s...well, it’s a nice change of pace.”

The way he spoke made you curious, there was no doubting that. You opened your mouth to reply, maybe to ask some questions about his lifestyle or what he meant, but Bella decided in that moment she had enough of standing by and spying. She hopped up from behind the counter, strolling over to the table with a friendly smile and meeting your startled gaze with an eager one of her own.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Y/N,” She greeted, green orbs sliding over to Dante in the next instant as she added, “Alex told me you were here on a date--Dante, right?”

She held out her hand, eyes flashing with a hint of wariness unlike her husband and ignoring the way your face flushed at the very mention of being on a date.. Ah--it was pretty clear she was protective of you, like an older sister that was trying to see if she trusted him or not. He could respect that--honestly had Dante left the house looking as he had in the morning Alex and Bella could have easily mistaken him for a degenerate of some sort.

He shook her hand warmly, offering a friendly grin as he replied, “Pleasure to meet ya.  Y/N spoke high praises of you and Alex--I can see why. Beautiful place you’ve got here.”

His laid back manner of speaking made her relax a bit, a low breath stirring the air as she replied, “She’s a sweetheart that one. She’d speak nice of us even if we served slop here.”

“Hey!” You protested, looking thoroughly flustered while looking between the two.

Bella simply gave a good-natured laugh, reaching her free hand out to tussle those beautiful curls. You didn’t lean away from the gesture, exasperated expression melting into a rueful smile. Bella almost had a motherly air about her when it came to you, or that of an older sibling. Something about seeing so many kind people surrounding you felt...nice, especially when he remembered what you mentioned at the shop. Losing your mother at a young age, and no mention of your father or any other family...it seemed like you didn’t surround yourself with many people, so knowing there was at least Alex and Bella there on your behalf was oddly relieving.

“Now--what can I get you two lovebirds?” Bella finally asked, so innocent she should have been wearing a halo despite the wicked gleam in her eyes. She was enjoying this whole situation far too much, that was apparent.

You cleared your throat a bit, looking at Dante as if expecting him to order first. He merely smirked in response, gesturing with one hand for you to proceed. The devil hunter was a bit curious about what you liked to eat and drink, so this was a learning experience.

“The hibiscus tea, please...with honey.” You closed the menu, gently handing it to Bella and looking sheepish.

“The usual amount?” Bella inquired, smiling cheerfully as she wrote it down on the little notepad.

“Mhm...and can I get an order of strawberry crepes?”

Damn, that sounded pretty freaking good. Dante hadn’t really had something like crepes in a long time, and the idea of it was a bit more appealing than the parfait he had planned. Plus...eating something you liked would be nice, though tea wasn’t really his favorite thing. Better to supplement with coffee. 

“Drizzled with nutella then? Do you want whipped cream?” Bella was asking when he focused again, scribbling everything down on that little pad of paper. The more she spoke the more his mouth began to water. Maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t the best idea?

You were nodding to everything, occasionally peeking at him through that curtain of curly hair. The way each strand framed your cheeks was absolutely enchanting, peppered with flowers and petals like a forest fairy sitting in a patch of sunlight. He was zoning out just gazing at you, head still resting on his hand and probably looking like an absolutely slack-jawed oaf. Whatever his expression was it made you flush pink, a cute smile tilting your lips and some more petals falling to the floor in an amassing pile. Man...he was seriously in deep, wasn’t he?

Bella didn’t seem to mind, only letting out a small giggle and turning to Dante next for his order despite him not really paying attention either. The absolutely star struck expression on his face was definitely easing her further. Not that he noticed. 

“And what can I get you, big guy?” She inquired, tapping him on the shoulder and startling him out of whatever trance he was in. Dante at least had the good graces to look bashful, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head again in that nervous little gesture.

“U...uh…yeah,” He mumbled, coughing once before continuing on more soundly, “Latte for me. And an order of those crepes Y/N decided on.”

You perked up at that, looking absolutely delighted while Bella jotted down the order. The cheerful woman let out a pleased hum, tucking the little notepad away before grinning at the couple trying not to stare at each other.

“I’ll have your drinks right out,” She promised, giving you a not-so-subtle wink, “And Alex will get to work on those crepes. You two have fun.”

She gave a little wave of her fingers, slipping between the tables with a pep in her step while you flushed pink again. All at once the two of you were left alone, so many questions to ask and things to learn with no real jumping off point. Dante settled back in his chair again, tilting his head as he eyed your flushed face--you were nervous, sure, but also happy by the looks of it. There was a glint of delight in your eyes, and something about your expression radiated a pure joy that left him more than a little breathless and chest squeezing lightly. Hell, your whole presence was oddly...relaxing, in a way that reminded him of sitting in a flower meadow with the sun shining down and a breeze rustling his hair. Which was odd, to be honest, considering the fact that he didn’t recall ever being in such a scenario before. Maybe when he was still a child, before things all went to hell?

Don’t think about that. Not right now, with her.

Dante let out a slow breath, leaning forward again to put himself at better eye level with you. It made you sit up straighter, little heart probably hammering in your chest as your cheeks gave you away every time. It was charming the hell out of him. 

“Tell me about you, sunshine,” He said, tone low and intimate in that little corner where you both sat, “I know you own your own business--what made you decide to start growing flowers?”

You seemed taken aback by such an upfront question, settling in the chair with your hands on your lap. For a second Dante was afraid he had been too forward in his questioning, but the small, wistful smile on your lips made the fear halt in its tracks. It was the kind of smile he knew well, the one someone wore while remembering something dear to them. 

You shifted a bit, hand instinctively reaching up to clasp a locket dangling around your neck. It was a pretty little silver thing, with intricate patterns forming into the shape of a flower. The way you clutched it between your fingers was almost instinctive, like breathing or blinking. 

“My mother and I had a garden when I was little,” You replied softly, eyes glowing with the sunlight that came out of a nearby window. Dante felt his breath catch at your response, heart growing tighter as you continued gently, “She taught me how to respect nature, how to nurture seedlings and flora. After she died...its one of the ways I remember her. It makes me happy.”

Damn...he remembered you mentioning the loss of her mother at a young age. That first day in the shop when they met, he had been going there to get roses because his own mother loved them so much. It was one of the first things that made him feel...connected somehow, that sharing of a tragedy. He knew that pain all too well, it was one of the things that made him who he was today, shaping his very existence. That day in the mansion, trapped in a closet and forced to listen as his mother was murdered by demons. The memory alone was enough to make that familiar pain and regret return, as much as he tried to push it down. There was another part of him curious about how your mother died, but asking would be incredibly rude and definitely not something for a first date.

Stop thinking about it.

“She...sounds like a wonderful person,” He cleared his throat again, leaning on his hands and staring into your eyes as they lifted his way, “I’m certain she’d be proud--you do wonderful stuff at that shop. Hell--I’m positive my mother would have adored the roses I bought from you.”

That made you perk up, eyes soft and curious at the mention of his own lost mother. Almost instinctively, you reached one gentle hand out to clasp his, the thrill of it traveling up his spine like a giddy jolt of electricity.

“What was she like--your mother?” You inquired, a bit hesitant as well considering the heavy nature of the discussion.

Christ...when was the last time he opened up to anyone about his mother? Despite Trish looking exactly like Eva, he never spoke to her about it. Ever. It was just a fact that hung between them, a mutual understanding. Lady wasn’t one for discussions like there either, and Vergil talking about his emotions was entirely out of the question. Part of him didn’t want to bare that much of himself to you so early, and yet...it was pleasant, this feeling. To have someone who would listen without judgement, to act normal and human for even a day. Like a paradise away from his job and life, a small reprieve he wasn’t sure was deserved. But his mouth opened anyway, the rest of the world fading away while the devil hunter spoke to you. Not feeling like a devil hunter, just...Dante.

“I lost her when I was little too, so I don’t remember all that much,” He admitted, blowing a soft breath out from his cheeks, “I remember her being kind, caring...a wonderful mother. She must’ve had a ton of patience to deal with me and my brother while we bickered.”

You perked up a bit in surprise, opening your mouth to ask another question when Bella slid up to the table. The sound of her setting down two cups made you both jump, turning to gaze at her sheepishly while she smirked in absolute amusement. Much to Dante’s dismay, you released his hand, leaving it with a feeling that was oddly…lonely. Not to mention, having someone sneak up on him was a strange sensation, one that would usually prompt him to whip out his pistol or sword. Neither were on him thankfully, and it left Dante feeling a bit out of place as you thanked Bella and slid his cup closer to him.

“Thank you so much, these look wonderful.” You beamed, lifting a beautiful tea cup to your lips to inhale the scent. The liquid inside was steaming hot, a pretty color that was different from the usual teas he saw. Whatever hibiscus tea was, it smelled lovely and drifted with the faintest hints of honey.

His own latte looked far too beautiful to drink, the foam on top decorated to look like a leaf. Damn, it was prettier than anything he had consumed in his whole life.

“Looks great.” He complimented, meaning it wholeheartedly as he grinned at Bella.

She nodded, winking at you both again as she replied, “I’ll be back soon with your food, don’t mind me.” 

The woman slipped away again, back to the counter to take the order of a new set of people coming in. Dante made sure to take pause, lifting his own cup of coffee to sample a taste of the liquid inside. It was pleasantly hot and sweet as it rolled over his tongue, a delight after the cheap coffee they had at Devil May Cry in the past month. Honestly, he’d have to come here more often, just to treat himself occasionally after work. The warm atmosphere, the smell of bread and pastries mingling with coffee...it was relaxing, soothing in the strangest way. And yet...he was almost positive that it wouldn’t be nearly as so without you there, hair glowing in the sun and drifting in the scent of flora.

He looked at you from over his cup, enjoying the way you savored your tea with gentle sips. You set it down soon after, meeting his eyes with that gentle curiosity as you remembered the question that Bella cut off before.

“You have a brother?” 

Oh yeah...he mentioned Vergil, didn’t he? Not by name, but...how much they bickered.

Dante scratched the back of his head, taking another sip of coffee to help clear his throat as he grunted, “Sure do...a twin, if you can believe that,” Your mouth popped open in surprise, so he continued on ruefully, “He’s…a bit problematic. We got separated after mother died, and he uhh...made some bad choices. Never really got along with him all that well, but...he stays with me now, helps with the business.”

Christ...he never realized just how much he couldn’t talk about with you until now. He preferred to keep you as far away from demon hunting as possible, and Vergil had done so much unbelievably terrible shit that there wasn’t much he could say without you being horrified. The Tower, the Qliphoth tree, Urizen, V…there was so much to unpack, even without bringing Nero and the fact that he was Dante’s nephew into the mix. God damn...his life really was a disaster, wasn’t it?

Still...everything he said hadn’t been a lie. Just...not the exact truth.

You nodded in understanding, sympathy in your gaze as you replied softly, “I mean...is your relationship any better now? I don’t have siblings, I can’t imagine really going through something like being on bad terms with a brother or sister like that.”

Dante seriously doubted you could have anyone hate you at all.

He chuckled, reaching out to pat your hand as he replied, “Don’t worry too much, sunshine. It’s not perfect, but at least he’s where I can make sure he’s not doing stupid shit. He’s trying to be better, which is worth something I guess.”

Vergil certainly wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But his twin had the feeling that all the terrible shit he had done was finally starting to click, even just a little bit.

“I see…” You murmured, tucking some of that beautiful hair behind your ear as you gazed up at him again. There seemed to be a sudden realization, that beautiful gaze blinking owlishly at him as you added, “Wait...you said you have a business too? What sort of business do you run?”

Ah…fuck, he had mentioned that, hadn’t he? What the hell could she tell you about Devil May Cry that wasn’t a lie? The name of it alone was pretty strange, telling a story that he had literally no excuses for. And yet...there was a part of him that felt uneasy about the idea of making something up, especially when he was on the first date with you. Trying to start a relationship on a bed of lies seemed so wrong, as hesitant as he was to even admit that’s what he was trying to do. But...Dante liked you a lot, felt soothed by your presence. Even now he was ready to admit he wanted to do this again, wanted an excuse to keep meeting you. Pushing the demons of his past away, growing close to someone in the hopes of growing near to them...surely he was allowed that much?

Dante let out a low sigh, struggling to form his reply a bit as it tumbled out awkwardly, “Err...It’s…kind of hard to explain. We kind of do odd jobs for the government, nothing illegal I swear...it’s just nothing that’s completely normal…”

I sound like a complete jackass, a shady one at that. 

Government jobs? Odd jobs? He sounded like a drug dealer, or a hit man when speaking like that. Not that his actual job was any better--being a demon hunter was no small thing, it was absolutely not the kind of thing he could talk about.

You blinked, not seeming phased in the slightest as he tried to form a coherent response. That surprised him a bit, even when you reached out to grasp his hand again with your warm fingers. Even more so after holding that cup of tea, it was absolutely pleasant.

“I don’t think you’re doing anything illegal,” You assured, smiling at the nervous mannerisms he displayed and squeezing softly, “And you don’t have to explain everything to me, not when it makes you uncomfortable. There’s...definitely things I can’t talk about right now too...and that’s okay.”

You smiled warmly, something in your eyes looking hesitant and distant again. That look stirred those emotions in his chest, that ache brought forth by knowing something was definitely troubling that gentle soul of yours. The idea of someone hurting a gentle, loving girl like you was...well, it stirred up that part of him he knew was capable of violence. That protective part of him, the one that just wanted you safe and happy. But he wasn’t going to push it, especially not with you respecting his boundaries like you were. To do so would be deeply disrespectful--these things could come in time, and he wanted to learn more, to get closer to you.

So he let out a slow breath, lifting your fingers gently up to his lips. You held back a squeak of surprise, cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink and numerous petals falling from your hair as he brushed your warm digits ever so slightly. That reaction definitely made his own nervousness worth it, made everything worth it.

“We have time, sunshine.” He agreed, giving you smile that was equal parts sheepish and equal parts warmth, “As much as we need.”

You nodded once, eyes bright with delight and excitement as he continued to hold your hand. So lost in that moment, neither of you noticed Bella walking up until she cleared her throat, causing you to spring apart like two teenagers caught making out. She chuckled, setting down two exquisite plates of crepes before the blushing duo with absolute mirth glinting in her eyes. Dante wasn’t one for feeling bashful, but damn, this was as close as he could get. It felt like he was catching up on a lot of shit he missed out on in life, this whole scenario being one of them. It was nice, in an odd way, to share something so normal and domestic with you.

Bella chortled cheerfully, winking at Dante as she hummed, “Don’t mind me--just dropping off some food. You two enjoy now.”

Dante barely managed to clear his throat, managing a gruff, “Thanks, Bella.”

You nodded, hands pressed to your warms cheeks as you mumbled, “Mhmm...looks great.”

Bella chuckled again, patting your head before sauntering off toward Alex, who was peeking out of a window overlooking the kitchen with unbridled interest in his eyes. Both were absolutely enthralled by this date going on between the two of you, not that Dante could blame them. You two made quite the pair, he a bit scraggly and handsome, rough around the edges. And you... the softest, prettiest looking woman in the shop. Dante wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation--he definitely felt like he didn’t deserve you, even so early on in this strange relationship in bloom. You were sunshine and flower petals, he was blood and gunpowder. His whole life was the slash of steel through flesh, of demons howling for his death.

There were so many that would hurt you just to get to him.

But seeing your bright eyes, the way your lips curled softly as you lifted a bite of some absolutely beautiful strawberry crepe to your lips...Then the way you looked up at him, eyes gentle with shyness and curls tucked behind your ear--it was enough to wash the worries away, just for that day. Dante was positive that later he would try to talk himself out of it, if only to keep you safe.

But for now…he would forget the worries, and share that moment with you and you alone.

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#devil may cry #devil may cry five #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #dante #dante x reader #flowershop fic #flowershop oc #flowers #romance #dante sparda

[themadlostgirl]

NDY AU (2)

*A lot of people wanted me to continue the AU I wrote a while ago so here is a short mini-fic full of fluff while I’m working on the new main story.*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

*Months Earlier*

I don’t think it was a secret that my life in Storybrooke was pretty miserable. Okay, maybe miserable was too strong a word. It was more boring than anything. Monotonous and routine and insufferably predictable. I think there was a phrase that summed it up perfectly: Familiarity breeds contempt.

Everyday was the same. Wake up, go to school, babysitting all afternoon, go home, do homework, go to bed. Each and every day. I didn’t even get a weekend break because that’s what everyone else did. They were off having fun while I watched their kids.

At some point I finally broke. My alarm clock went off and I decided that I was done. I stayed in bed and kept sleeping. When my mom came up to see why I wasn’t up I told her I was sick. Trusting as she was she decided I was telling the truth and left me to my own devices while dad and her went to work. I heard their cars pull out of the garage and then I got up.

It was stupid. I shouldn’t be skipping school. Not like there is a lot to do around this town in the first place but I needed one day off. One day away from my life of repetition. I threw on a inconspicuous hoodie and was out the door.

I meandered around town dodging the gaze of everyone I passed. I was so nervous about skipping school I thought that if someone saw me out and about they would drag me back and I’d get detention for sure. I decided to take a walk through the woods. I had always felt more at home in the wilderness. Something about the neverending trees and chatter of birds put me at ease.

After a good hour of hiking and getting further away from the trail I heard something out of place this deep in the woods. Music. Not loud blaring music coming from a stereo but something softer. It drifted across the air like a lullaby hushing the birds and stilling the trees.

I walked towards the source curious and found an unzipped backpack. Inside was a bunch of notebooks and an overflowing pencil case. Next to it was a phone with music coming out of its speaker. Fairy Dance? Interesting.

“Didn’t your mommy teach you not to snoop.” A voice from above made me jump. I dropped the phone back to the ground.

There was a boy in the tree above me. He dropped down with a glare. He was kinda cute in a bad boy, scruffy, wrong side of the tracks kinda way. It was his eyes that kept me staring though. They were the most beautiful shade of green.

He picked up the phone and stopped the song before stuffing it back in his pocket. “What are you doing out here.”

I snapped back to my senses and looked away, “I was just taking a walk. I heard and the music and--I’m sorry.” I backed away ready to leave. “I’ll be going now.”

“Wait a second. Wait a second.” The boy grabbed me and turned me back around, “You’re cute.”

“Thanks?” I removed his hand from my arm and kept on walking. Still he followed.

“Do I know you?”

“Don’t think so.”

“You’re right. I would remember a face like yours.” he smirked, “What’s your name?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m a curious guy. I swear I’ve seen you before.”

“Probably at school. Which, shouldn’t you be there right now?” I don’t think this guy could be that much older than me. What was he doing skipping school?

“Nah. Don’t go to school much.” he shrugged. “Actually, if it is a school day, why aren’t you there?”

“I--I--” Crap!

“Don’t sweat it, pet,” he grinned wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Teenage rebellion. It’s a good thing.”

“I’m not rebelling. I just needed a day off.” I shrugged him off once more, “Also, don’t call me pet.”

“Well if you told me your name I wouldn’t need nicknames.” he didn’t try to touch me again but still followed closely.

“Y/N. Happy?”

“Yes. My name’s Peter by the way. Since you didn’t ask.”

“Wasn’t interested.”

“So cold.”

“Only towards creeps like you.” I huffed.

“Hey, hey,” he ran in front of me stopping me, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Really? Do you just not have any sense of personal space.”

“Truthfully? Always been a bit of a problem with me. Guess because I never got that much love growing up that I crave the gentle touch from others.” he winked and I gagged.

“And you wonder why I think you’re a creep. Although with that comment now I’m thinking you’re more of a pervert.” I shoved past him.

“Okay, seriously, I am sorry. I’m just being a dick.”

“Obviously.”

“Y/N,” he cut me off again, “Can we start over?”

“Why do you care? Leave me alone.”

“If you wish it,” he gave an exaggerated bow and stepped aside to let me pass. “I am sorry though. Don’t think badly of me.”

Those damned green puppy dog eyes. He was actually sorry, wasn’t he? “I forgive you. I’m really on edge with skipping school. It’s not something I’ve done before.”

“Clearly.” he straightened up, “If the lady would be so kind as to let a humble delinquent such as myself teach you the ways of a successful ditch day I would be honored.”

“Wow, you are so damn extra.”

“I try.” he winked, “What do you say?”

“Why not? Not like I have anything else to do.” I shrugged. I don’t know why but I felt like I could trust him. Not only to not be an asshole but to take me on a small town adventure.

He offered up his arm and I took a deep breath before accepting it. We kept on with our walk while Peter talked to me about things to do and how to avoid getting caught.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” I asked after a while.

“Nothing. Relaxing. Keep away from the house.” he shrugged.

“And the notebooks in your bag?” At that I got a glare. “Sorry, I saw them in your bag. You write?”

“Sketch.” he grumbled.

“Can I see?”

A clap of thunder stopped him before he could answer. “Shit. Come on.” he tugged me along faster now.

Gotta love this Maine weather. We ran through the forest as rain came pouring down on us. I was drenched and freezing but I couldn’t help but smile. I let out a crazy little laugh and Peter looked back at me with a similar grin.

Ahead of us was a run down trailer. We ran inside out of the downpour laughing like idiots. For being an abandoned crappy trailer it wasn’t that bad inside. It was mostly clean and free of any wildlife.

“How’d you know this was here?” I asked as I stripped out of my soaked hoodie.

“Found it a couple months ago. Cleaned it up as best I could so I had a place to hang out in cases just like this.” He shook out the rain from his hair. His eyes raked over me. I crossed my arms over my chest suddenly aware of how much my t-shirt was clinging to me and what it may be showing.

“Here,” he handed me a dry hoodie from in the small closet. “You look cold.”

“Thank you.” I pulled it on relishing in the warmth. It smelled like forest.

“Looks like the rain won’t let up for a while. Unless you wanna brave the storm we’re gonna be stuck here until it passes.” he collapsed back on the couch.

“Joy.” I sat down next to him. “Got a way to pass the time?”

“There’s a chess set in one of the cabinets but half of the pieces are missing.”

“So nothing.” I slumped further in my seat.

“I got a book in here.” he rummaged in his bag and pulled out a copy of Lord of the Flies. “Don’t know if it’s your thing but it's a classic.”

“Gotta say I’m more a Jane Austen kinda girl myself but this’ll do for now.” I took the book, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” We sat in silence for a long while. The only noise being the patter of rain against the side of the trailer and the sound of Peter’s pencil scritching and scratching in his notebook. It was strangely comfortable. There was no need to fill the silence between us. We didn’t need to.

At some point the rain had stopped but I was so invested in my reading I hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t until Peter tapped me that I came back to myself. “Rain stopped.”

“Oh. I guess it did.” I looked around for something to mark the page with since I refused to be a degenerate and dog-ear it. Peter seeing my struggled ripped a piece from his notebook and handed it to me.

“You can keep it if you wanna finish it.” he told me as we left the trailer. “I’ve read it like five times already.”

“You like a story about feral children murdering one another that much?” I cocked an eyebrow up at him.

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a weirdo.”

“You are a weirdo.” I joked.

We walked back to town. School should be letting out about now so I didn’t need to worry about that anymore. Peter pulled me along as we stopped inside the pharmacy for snacks. I noticed him trying to sneak out chocolate bars and smacked him. “I have some cash on me. No need to shoplift sweets.”

We went up to the register and the man scanning the items kept glaring at Peter suspiciously. I would too if I had the right to believe this little shit was stealing inventory. We left and I let Peter take the lead as we wandered around town and talked.

“Alright, I got one,” I said in between bites of my candy, “Would you rather be locked in a room that is constantly dark for a week or a room that is constantly bright for a week?”

“Dark, no question.” he answered.

“Seriously? But you can’t see anything!”

“My eyes would adjust. Besides, the dark doesn’t scare me. Constant bright light would be so annoying though, especially when you’re trying to sleep.”

“Point. Your turn.”

“I got a good one,” he turned to me with that dumb smirk, “Would you rather go back home and pretend to be sick or keep being a rebel and grab dinner at Granny’s with me tonight?”

“Oh…” I felt my face grow warm, “I think--”

“Y/N?” I froze. Dad.

“Hey,” I turned to him, “What’s up?”

“I thought you were sick. Why aren’t you home?”

“Just taking a walk. Getting some fresh air.”

“Uh huh,” he glanced at Peter, “And who is this?”

“Peter...my friend.” I mumbled.

“Sure.” Dad grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Peter’s side. “You’re coming home right now. And you,” he rounded on Peter, “Don’t think I don’t know who you are. I’ve seen Graham dragging your ass into the sheriff’s station on a weekly basis. Stay away from my daughter.”

“Dad!”

“I believe that’s up to Y/N, sir.” Peter smirked wider. I swear I thought steam was going to come pouring out of dad’s ears at any second.

“I will not let my daughter ruin herself with something like you. Now beat it.” Without another word dad dragged me away.

I craned my neck to look back at Peter. He gave me a wink and continued on with his walk.

(1) (3)

#peter pan ouat #ouat peter pan #ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks - 21

Part 20     Masterlist

Word Count: 2689

probably a lot of swearing

iPhone ringtones are annoying no matter the situation but when you're 1. Asleep and 2. hung over, it's satans creation. The high pitch tone of the ringer pierced through my sleep but also my over sensitive ears. Shoving my head under the pillow- careful of my nose- trying to block out the sound that's rattling my brain now that all the alcohol is out of my system.

"Answer it," My voice came out hoarse but also muffled by the pillow, a mix of sleep and being hungover preventing me from doing it myself. A deep groan and the bed moving follows after a swift kick from me to Auston's legs. He audibly struggles to find the source groaning loudly when he has to open his eyes to find the damn thing.

"Hello?" His morning voice deep and gruff, deeper than I ever heard and it made me feel all the ways. I peeked my head out from the pillow as I felt him turn to face me, carefully to watch as he balances the phone on his ear eyes remain closed.

"She here-yes my apartment," He blinked his eyes open catching my curious stare, whispering it's Steph. Rolling my eyes I stick my head back under the pillow, returning to dreamland but was difficult with Auston being on the phone and me being nosy.

"She's fine," His tone becoming more agitated.

"She's here-yes not dead," I can imagine him rolling his eyes as he releases a breath through his nose. A sign that he's getting mad rather than just annoyed now. Peeking my head out from under the pillow my suspicions are confirmed as I catch him mid eye roll as his face sets into a familiar look of anger that is usually present on the ice.

"You left her at the club, Steph. She's alive and hung over as am I. So, I would appreciate it if you'd let me sleep," There was a clear finality in his voice but Steph was still talking into his ear through the phone but was quickly cut off when Auston hung up and dropped the phone between us, which promptly began ringing again before it hit the fabric.

"I'll bring her home. You go and get her stuff from Marty's." He answered then hung up again this time dropping the phone beside the bed before face planting back into the pillows.

"You're supposed to be mad," He mumbled into the fabric of his pillow before he eventually fell back asleep, his back rising and falling as his breathing got deeper. All I could muster was a weak shrug before readjusting my pillow under my head, Falling back asleep myself.

Finally waking up for the day, it was the afternoon turning to face Auston his dark hair sticking out from the thick duvet as soft snoozes signal that is still asleep. My need to pee is more prominent than my level of comfort forcing me out from under the warm covers. A shiver running up my spine as my sore bare feet touch the cold flooring.

Looking in the mirror as I wash my hands, my bruised nose still purple with yellow undertone a hint of healing but still throbs. There are bags under my eyes from the weird sleep I was able to obtain, my hair falls past my shoulders and breast in natural waves with extra fluff from falling asleep with wet hair. In short, I don't look as hungover as I feel, my brain throbs as the rest of my body aches. My poor feet ache with raw blisters from my heels last night and over use on the dance floor.

Limping back to the bed crawling into the warmth careful to not disturb Auston but fail as he starts to wake as I finally get settled back into the warmth. He turns from facing the wall to me eye still closed.

"Afternoon," He grunted roughly as he begins to blind open his eyes, fully opening them when there is no assault to his retinas as the room dimly lit by only the slightest of the sun that poked out at the bottom of the curtain. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he stretches out like a cat complete with a moan like a purr into a yawn.

"I shall call you scruffy," I muttered unintelligently unable to stop myself from commenting on his cat like behavior. His yawn gets stuck in his throat as he laughs at me clearly confused.

"What are you talking about?" He yawned out.

"You remind me of a cat and your playoff beard is starting to come in and your hair is wild- hence Scruffy," I lazily motion to the stubble starting to grow on his chin as the hair on the top is head flops in front of his eyes and sticks up in every direction. He narrows his eye as he drags a hand through his dark locks in an attempt to fix the mess but it flops back in front of his eyes a mock pout on his lips. 

 A grin starts to take form on his face as something clicks in his head as he lays back on the pillow looking slightly awestruck by what ever it is running through his mind. He sighs loudly staring at the ceiling for an extended period of time a genuine smile of happiness stretching his lips wide showcasing his pearly whites. 

"Well, you've officially lost it," I clapped his bare shoulder before getting out of bed, my body getting restless and sore.  I slightly regret leaving the bed as the cold air wraps itself around my bare legs a shiver raising up my spine, grabbing the discarded hoodie from earlier sliding it over my chilled skin.  

    My joints loudly pop as I venture out of the room with a limp to the kitchen, leaving the dazed Auston to himself. My mission caffeine and a lot of it than I can begin to think like a normal human again.  Walking into the kitchen I am instantly greeted with the sight of an expensive looking espresso machine sitting on the counter near the sink.

"Perfect," I whispered lowly for myself before continuing my new mission of locating the supplies necessary to make the espresso. Finding an unopened bag of espresso grounds in the cabinet above with the cups too. By the looks of dust on top of the machine, Auston doesn't know how to use the machine. 

  A couple minutes later the smell of coffee fills the air as espresso is dispensing into two clear espresso mugs simultaneously. My mouth waters as I lift my steaming cup to my lips blowing on hot liquid eager to enjoy my work. 

 Carefully sipping the strong coffee, I investigate my surroundings as hunger starts to claw at my stomach as I start to feel more normal. The fridge is barren as I expect from a teenage man but the freeze is loaded with pre frozen meals made by a company that specializes in athlete nutrition but I still do not approve of the lack of fresh nutrients he much is missing out on.

"You made coffee? how?" Austons voice breaks my train of thought on his diet. Grabbing the still steaming glass from the machine he makes grabby hands for it. Leaning my sore body back against the counter I watch him blow on the coffee carefully before taking a sip, savoring the flavor. Austons now wearing long sleeves with the same pair of sweat leans against the counter mimicking my stance.

"My first job was at a cafe when I was 15," I finished off my coffee setting the cup into the sink before continuing my tale. "I was absolutely horrible with the machine at first I burned my fingers on the regular trying to master that damn machine," I shook my head at the memory of countless failed drinks and bandages covering my poor fingers every time the steam or hot metal caught me. 

  Auston stared into my eyes with a weird look in his eyes as he finished his coffee.

"What?" I question breaking eye contact, burying the lower half of my face in the fabric of his hoodie. 

"You don't talk about yourself, ever." He admitted with wonder.

"I'm not the most revealing person, which you probably noticed. Steph didn't even know I was Italian let a lot spoke it until a couple days ago," I tried to shrug off the topic of me, becoming uncomfortable pushing my hair away from my face a nervous tick. 

"Kinda speaking of, I saw what happened last night. He must of really said something to get you that mad," Auston revealing that he actually witness  my outburst makes my heart drop into my stomach as my face pales.  

"You saw that," I groaned rubbing my hands over my eyes embarrassed.

"  I know what that guy said when you went to walk away, Amelia," My defense rise as tears gather in the corner of eyes as knot forms in my throat. My eyes must convey my question as Auston pulls out his phone and opens his safari app still on google translate where the words that slashed my heart last night in Italian are now in perfect English. 

"Spanish is sometimes quite similar to Italian," He tried to lighten up the tense air but It was too much. I slid down the cabinets to the floor as silent tears turn into sobs. Repressed emotions clawing out of my once prefect confines. 

"You're so selfish, Amelia," my mother lecture if I cried. "Somewhere someone else has it a lot worse than you,"  she would sneer into my face.

I am being selfish.

Auston got into playoffs, he should be dealing with my petty problems. He should be celebrating with the guys or his family. Not having to deal with my lack of the ability to take an insult. 

 Clenching my eyes and jaw shut I push my emotion down and out of my head, my breath is still jagged but the tears stop as I swallow the painful knot in my throat. Tilting my head back expected the hard wood but instead I'm met with hard yet soft chest as the world comes back to me that I didn't even realize I lost.

 Auston has his arms tight around my waist as he sits behind me, his head in the crook of my neck whispering  "Its okay," in a soft voice. My hands are gripping tightly onto Auston's hands that lay on my stomach. My heartbeat is pounding hard against my rib cage as my breathing is distressed and uneven. 

Panic attack, I haven't had one in so long.

"I thought I grew out of these," I didn't fight as Auston arms tightened, I let my body relax into his but only for a moment before I start to pull away and when I was free and standing I started again.

  "Come on we've got something to be celebrating," I pulled a expertly practice fake smile on my lips as I help Auston from the floor, who does not look happy, clearly not ready to drop this topic.

"Amelia, we need to talk about this, you're clearly hurt," His voice firm and frustrated.

" Auston, It was just some guy that something that I guess I couldn't take," I shrugged but i had to turn and walk away before I could cry again.  I  walk back to Auston room start collecting my belongings quicker than necessary,  grabbing my phone from Austons side I head back to the grumpy looking Auston now sitting on the couch.

"Can you please take me home?" I silently pleaded with my eyes for him to drop it , he luckily didn't say anything as he nodded and went into his room to grab what he needed. Still grumpy when he returned shutting the door to his room harder than needed.

The elevator ride down to the underground was sufficiently awkward and tense, it only gets worse when we go into his car and his slammed his car door shut like he did with his bedroom door and as he speeds out onto the road. He gripped the stirring wheel with poorly hidden aggression. 

I was fed up with his pouting and childish behavior when he nearly hits another car but swerves just in time.

"Auston, If there is something you need to say, FUCKING SAYING IT!" I hissed venomously, violently jerking forward when the car is abrupt pulled over to the side of the road and stopped, Auston whipping his head to me pissed.

"SO NOW YOU WANNA TALK?!" His voice boomed around my head as his eye are in slits glaring.

"WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING FAKE? GOD AMELIA. why can't you let me in?! You're so frustrating sharing so much than nothing. DO YOU KNOW HOW SHIT I FEEL KNOWING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT YOU, YET YOU KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT ME?!" He blew up rapid hand motion matching his verb assault. He breaths heavy as he stares into my emotionless eye, a skill I master long before I hit puberty. A deep anger sets in my chest, not at him at myself.

"Nobody cares," My voice choked.

"WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!" He sneered pissed.

"IT MEANS, NOBODY CARES FOR ME. WHY CAN'T YOU I'M NOT WORTH IT," I lose it as let it out. "EVERYONE FUCKING LEAVES IN THE END. Everyone leaves me, Auston. Can't you see I-I'M not wor-worth it 'cause everyone leaves. I can't handle it anymore," Fat tears roll down my face as I scream at the now speechless man.

"Thinking someone might actually love me and care just to- to-" I cried hard smashing head back against the seat. "just to leave. They always do,"  I dropped my head into my hands and cried.

I cried hard and long,

I cried until my body couldn't anymore and fell into a dreamless sleep as Auston still wordless started the car and driving again.

I woke again when I was being set onto something soft and familiar, my bed. I could hear Stephanie's worried voice somewhere as Auston trying calm and get her to leave. It took something Mitch said for her to leave and the door shut softly.

 Opening my sore eyes I spot Auston's figure leaning his head against the door.

"Auston?" My voice hoarse.

"Amelia, I am so sorry. I didn't mean it , you're not fake. You're reserved for a reason you don't have to tell me," Auston rushed to sit on the bed grabbing my hands into his rough ones. "I shouldn't have pushed you, fuck. I'm so selfish," My eyes widen in wonder as this boy just  keeps apologizing. Removing my hands from his I sit to grasp  the sides of his face.

"Will you shut up?" barely over a whisper. "I'll tell you. I'm not ready to, can we start with smaller stuff," I smiled sadly as my voice remained soft.

"Yes, okay how about I ask question and you just answer," He suggested more nervous than I ever seen him.

"I think I can manage that," 

"okay," We sat in silence as we stared into each others eyes before I break giggly.

"Are you gonna ask me something?" I raised a teasing brow, smiling when a deep shade of pink marks his cheeks.

"Ah, yeah, uhm. What's your favorite color?" He smiled shyly looked young.

"Purple," 

"Favorite food?"

"Gnocchi but the way my Nona would make it for me. The dough was always perfectly flavored and texture but honestly I think it was just because she made it I loved it so much," I reveal fondly as Auston nods encouraging me.

"Are you close with her?" His tone so soft as he's scare to startle me.

"Yeah but she moved back to Italy when my Nono- her husband passed away. It was easier for her as most our family is still there," I freely enjoying telling Auston some of my background.

It was a great start.

NEXT

#auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #on the rocks #482754

[walkingdeadfan25]

Call Me Jesus part 1

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Character pairing: Jesus x Female OC

Warnings: Language, slight sexual reference

Disclaimer: I know Jesus is gay in the show but I just keep having this dream, which is my story, and so I’m going to write it and get it out there. I love Jesus as he is in the show whether he is gay or straight. Please don’t send me hate. 

*I own nothing but my character Cas everything else belongs to AMC and the creators of The Walking Dead

"I never understand a damn thing that mullet-headed man says, I swear.", Cas said from the back seat. Cas was a woman of twenty-three years with long pin straight dark-brown almost black that shone red in sunlight. She had pale green eyes that at appeared silver at times. she was going on a supply run with Rick and Daryl. “Today’s the day, we’re gonna find food, maybe some people. The law of averages has gotta catch up.”, Rick’s words filled the otherwise empty silence. Daryl begged Rick not to play his shitty country music. “I swear to God Rick. I grew up in the goddamn home of country music, in Nashville. If I have to hear any more of that god awful screeching and moaning they called country music, I will kill you. Please shut that shit off.”, Cas complained. Rick knew her and Daryl both were more rock oriented and tried to make them as miserable as possible.

 They drove along till they came across a sorghum barn of sorts. Daryl went to open the white pull-up gate as Rick and Cas covered him. Rick pulled his gun out while Cas pulled out her katana. Like Michonne, Cas preferred her sword to a gun. Really any close-combat weapon suited Cas, guns to her were too unpredictable and noisy. As Daryl pulled the door up Rick and Cas moved in to ensure it was clear. Inside, to their amazement was a white truck that looked as though it held a fuck-ton of goodies. “God, Jesus, whoever. If you’re listening now I hope you have cut us some slack and brought Christmas early.

Daryl swung up the back door and before their eyes was the most glorious gift one could receive trying survive in their shit world: Supplies! “Law of averages.”

“Damn it Rick, don’t jinx us. It was obviously early Christmas!”, Cas joked. Daryl just told her she was crazy while playfully ruffling her hair. They piled into the truck, Cas stuck between the two men and due to her shortness, she looked like a kid. They approached an abandoned gas station and stopped to see if they could score more supplies. They got out and Cas searched the blue SUV looking thing. She scored and managed to find a sharp hunting knife to add to her collection, a box of clothing articles, a couple guns and a box of cans with some packets of beef jerky. “Hey guys! I found some stuff. I’m going to put them into the truck.” As she turned, she could have sworn she saw movement at the side of the building.

Once she had loaded the stuff she found, she went over to Rick and Daryl to see them struggling to get a vending machine turned over. She would have offered to help but decided to let the boys use their “manly capabilities” which ended up with the vending machine chained to the truck. As Rick pulled the truck forward, the vending machine flipped over with a loud clank and Cas knew if there were walkers around the noise would surely attract them, so she paid close attention to her surroundings. All the sudden a man rushed Rick and knocked him onto the vending machine. 

Cas ran over and gracefully leaped onto the stranger’s back, tightening her legs around his slim waist and holding a knife to his neck. He stopped immediately as he felt the cool metal against his neck. Once Daryl and Rick had their guns on him, Rick signaled Cas she could release him. She maneuvered herself up his body and in one graceful move that the man barely felt, she flipped herself over him and landed lightly on the balls of her feet behind Rick and Daryl. The man looked at her in awe. “That was amazing.”, he thought.

Cas took the moment to take in the man before her. He was tall maybe 6ft. or close to it. He was encased in dark clothing, odd for the hot weather, with gloves on his hands, a gray beanie and a cloth covering half his face. But what caught Cas’ attention were his long almost golden brown hair and blue and silver eyes. He held up his hands in surrender. “Hi.” Daryl and Rick yelled at him to keep his hands up and to back up. “Whoa, easy guys. I was just running from the dead.” Daryl continued to interrogate him and he warned them to run. Cas was too taken with the beautiful man and his soft voice that sounded like honey, but quickly snapped to attention. 

Daryl lowered his gun once he felt the stranger was not a current threat. Once he began asking about a camp Daryl lied telling him no. Rick asked if he had a camp to which he also replied no. Right then, suspicion began to cloud Cas’ mind. He looked too clean, his hair shining. He had a camp but maybe he was just as cautious with them as they were with him. Cas brushed her hand against Rick’s stealthy letting him know she knew the stranger wasn’t telling the whole truth. “I hope this world is good to you guys.”, the stranger said as he turned to leave. 

“I’m Rick. This is Daryl and-”, Rick introduced until Cas interrupted, “and I’m Cas. May we have the courtesy of knowing yours?” He turned and pulled down the cloth covering his face. It revealed a scruffy beard and mustache. Cas couldn’t help but wonder what that beard would feel like brushing across the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or those lips as they- “No, brain out of the gutter. Not happening. You barely know this man!” She couldn’t help but also think he looked like Jesus. “Paul Rovia. But my friends used to call me Jesus.” Cas let out a light laugh. “I was just thinking that.” The boys still talked back like testosterone pumped teenagers and Cas let them have their fun. Rick started to ask him the three questions but Daryl stopped him. Jesus ran telling them they should head out. “What the hell was that?”, Daryl demanded once Jesus had rounded the corner. “His beard, it was trimmed. There’s more giving on there.”

“Ok, so I wasn’t the only one who noticed gorgeous was lying.”, Cas immediately began to blush. Rick and Daryl looked at her and she just knew they’d never let her live it down. They were about to make plans to follow him when what sounded like shots rang out behind them. Daryl and Rick went to find the source while Cas stayed to watch the truck. Once they disappeared behind the back, she felt strong arms wrap around her. A cloth was pressed to her nose and she inhaled as a reflex. As her vision began to fade she could just make out those startling eyes that were surprisingly filled with warmth as she was quickly but gently lowered to the ground. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal but I have people to take care of too.”

As Daryl and Rick reached the back they realized they were being tricked. “It’s a trap. The truck. Cas!” They hurried back to the front in time to see Jesus speeding off in their truck and Cas on the ground. They hurried over to Cas to make sure she was okay. “Damn asshole better not have hurt her!”, Daryl cursed. Slowly Cas came to and jumped up. “That dick! I swear I’m going to rip his nuts off and feed them to him!” 

“Are you sure wouldn’t like him to keep them?”, Cas’s cheeks burned red. “Leave me alone. I can’t help I find him attractive. Now let’s go find him and get our shit back.” They took off and Cas was glad she still kept in shape. They soon came upon the vending machine and caught their breath. Daryl emptied it of its contents. One can was busted open and they passed it around. Cas would have preferred water but her throat was dry and she’d take what she could. Plus, she missed soda, can if it was flat and warm. As the sugary drink exploded her taste buds in orangey goodness, she listened in on Rick as he tried to convince them he might not be all that bad. Daryl wasn’t having it but Cas not going to form an opinion on him till she got his side of the story. They finished catching their breath and their soda and were off.

Cas enjoyed the running. She felt free and welcomed the burn in her legs as she pushed herself, felt the breeze through her hair cooling her as they ran. She was almost always on a run, doing what she could for the others. They rounded a corner and came upon the truck. They slowed down as they saw Jesus fixing the tire. They made a plan to ambush him and entered the woods, circling to catch him from the side while he was putting the tools back in the back. Rick ran around the truck to the other side. Once Jesus turned around to get back into the truck, Rick ran behind him locking him in his hold. He quickly rammed his elbow into Rick’s side and pulled his arms up and away from him. He kicked Rick away from him. Daryl went to attack but in a smooth maneuver, Jesus stopped him and threw him against the truck. Before Cas could attack, Rick ran at him slamming him into the ground. Cas, using quick thinking, planted her foot on his chest to keep him down as Rick and Daryl pull their guns on him. 

Jesus couldn’t help but get lost in Cas’ silvery green gaze. “This is done.”, Rick said angrily. A walker began to come upon them and Cas said she had it. She ran up to it and in a clean graceful maneuver that even Michonne would envy, cut right through the dead’s head. “She’s beautiful.” Both men ignored Jesus’ comment. Rick demanded the keys as they both cocked their guns. He handed them over. Daryl threw Cas some rope and she began tying Jesus up. “You can’t just leave me here.”, he said as he gave Cas what he hoped was puppy eyes. As she met his gaze he took in a sharp breath. “We both know these bindings won’t hold you for long. I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic smile as she got up. Daryl threw him one of the almost empty cans of soda. “You didn’t have to be so rude Daryl.” “And he didn’t have to be a dick and steal our truck.”

They flew down the road, windows down while munching on some candy. Daryl passed Cas and Rick some chocolate as Rick pointed out a barn. As they headed towards it they went over a hole and heard a loud thump from the roof. “I think that son of a bitch is on the roof.” Suddenly Rick slammed on the brakes and Cas braced her hands on the dash to keep from flying out the windshield. As they came to a halt, Jesus is thrown off the roof and landed with a grunt. Cas winced as she heard his body hit the grass. Soon he jumped up and Daryl went off after him. Rick tried to block him but he ran. Rick stopped and got out of the truck, Cas pulled out the keys as he ran off and made sure the emergency brakes were on. As Daryl chased Jesus, Rick and Cas killed some of the dead. Once Rick realized Daryl was having trouble he sent Cas to help. 

Jesus had doubled back to the truck so she ran to the other side as Daryl cornered him inside. “Come here you little shit!” Cas flung the door open and gripped Jesus around the shoulders. “Daryl behind you!”, Cas warned as he turned. She dragged Jesus from the vehicle. While pulling him out, his foot caught the brake and the truck began rolling. Cas fell back and so did Jesus. Unfortunately, the open door caught Jesus in the face, knocking him out.

They watched as all that food was swallowed up by water.

“You guys alright?”, Rick asked. Daryl and Cas replied with a yes. “Law of Averages. That’s bullshit man.”, Daryl gruffed. Daryl wanted to check the trucks and leave Jesus, but Cas convinced him and Rick they should take him, that he might show them his group. 

As they get into one of the cars, they put Jesus in the back with Cas. As they are travelling, Rick veered left and caused Jesus to slump over onto Cas’ shoulder. She blushed. “He took a pretty hard hit. Denise needs to look him over. When we get back, take him to her.” Figuring he’d be uncomfortable she gently moved him so his head was in her lap and draped his legs on the seat as best she could. Rick talked about how Daryl would not have left him in a tree. To pass the time, Cas began to run her hand through his soft hair.

Once they arrived at Alexandria, she brought him to Denise and explained how he was to have an eye kept on him, then went home to sleep.

                                                 END OF PART 1

#the walking dead #jesus #paul rovia #fanfiction #female reader #romance

[richonnejustdesserts]

Match

Title: Match

Written by: @birdnmouse

Prompt: From @fangirlbaker, see the prompt at the end!

Words: 5602

Rating: T

Summary: Rick and Michonne meet their match while out on a routine run.

“There’s nothing like being out in the woods first thing in the morning,” Rick said as he inhaled the fresh morning air through his nose while he looked up at the canopy of tree cover above them. “It’s nice and quiet, the air is cool, you can catch the sunrise peeking through up the trees, and you can even smell the dew on the leaves…”

Michonne cast a sidelong glance his way as she walked beside him, but it was lost on him since he was so enamored with his surroundings.

“OK, nature boy…” she muttered under her breath as she walked along, eyes peeled for walkers and one hand on the hilt of her katana.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong,” he insisted, impervious to her sarcasm. “Morning is the best time of day.”

“Maybe when you live in the sticks,” she conceded. “Morning time meant traffic jams and stress in the city. I was always partial to nights.”

“Even now?” he asked, finally glancing down at her.

“It’s all the same anymore,” she shrugged.

“Then I’ll get someone who actually appreciates it to come with me next time…maybe Carl.”

“Are you kidding me?” she scoffed. “The last thing he’d want to do is wake up at the crack of dawn to go hang out with his old man…” She could hear Rick huff in protest beside her as she slowed to a stop and patted his arm. “Hey,” she whispered, pointing toward what appeared to be a camp site up ahead in the distance.

They walked just to the edge of the clearing before ducking behind a bush to take a closer look. There was a rusted pale yellow van, rendered almost grey by the thick coating of dust that covered it, making it look like it hadn’t moved from the spot for months, maybe even years. The side doors were wide open, making it easy to see that there was no one inside, so Rick looked at Michonne then nodded quietly giving the OK to take a closer look.

They edged out of the brush, careful not to make a sound as they descended upon the abandoned campsite. Michonne walked over to a small pile of bricks and grate just to the side of the van then squatted down and waved her hand over the makeshift grill which was cold as could be. She stood and gave Rick a thumb’s up then peeked inside the van, confirming it was clear before walking around to the front where Rick was standing with his hand on the hood of the van which was cold, too.

“No key in the ignition,” she whispered to which Rick frowned since they wouldn’t be scoring a new ride on this early on their run today.

“You take the inside, and I’ll check under the hood for parts,” he whispered.

She nodded and walked back around to the side then stepped up through the open doors. She lifted the dark blue tarp that covered the empty floor of the van and swept it to the side, sending a few shiny foil packets flying into the air then scattering across the rusted floor of the van. She knelt down and picked one up to inspect it.

“Hmm,” she sounded as she turned the packet between her fingers.

The packaging was still intact and the expiration date was at least a year or so off in her estimation, so she collected the rest and stuffed them into the pocket of her green leather jacket then rose to her feet again and moved on. She used the toe of her boot to poke at a dirty old brown jacket, a dented can of beans, and a few old football jerseys piled the corner with little interest then made her way over to the front seats.

Michonne.

She looked up at the sound of her name and stuck her head out of the driver’s side door.

“What?”

Rick lifted his head and looked around the popped up hood at her. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh,” she nodded and dropped back into the driver’s seat.

She picked up the empty bag of pretzels that sat on the console, then turned it over and letting the crumbs and coarse salt crystals fall onto the floor before letting the bag go with it while she slumped back in the seat and stared through the window out into the woods. This was a bust.

Rick.

She turned her head and sat up straight in the seat as Rick peeked around the hood again.

“Yeah?”

“That wasn’t me,” she said shaking her head as she climbed out of the van. “You think something happened back home and they came out looking for us?” she asked as he joined her at her side.

“Could be,” he supposed.

The both went quiet, staring out into the woods while they listened intently for another sound. Of course now that they were paying attention, there was nothing. That peaceful morning Rick was so fond of returned for a few moments before a faint humming sound began to rise above the silence, growing louder as it evolved into a plaintive moan, long and low at first, but quickly becoming shorter and higher pitched as a rhythmic guttural grunt entered the mix.

Michonne raised her eyebrows and looked up at Rick. “That is not coming from a walker.”

He shook his head, looking as agitated as he probably did back in his law enforcement days when he had to go break up the action between horny teenagers down on Lover’s Lane. They walked in the direction of the sounds, and easily found the source when they caught sight of a couple doing the deed up against a towering birch tree. The woman’s back was against the tree trunk, and her face was obscured by the back of the man’s head. All that could be seen were her slender arms, covered in white sleeves and wrapped around his denim clad shoulders, and her bare dark, shapely legs wrapped around his waist. His dark jeans sagged low on his hips, exposing the pert tops of his stark white ass that dimpled with each thrust.

“Jesus,” Rick whispered with disgust as he turned away and leaned his back against the tree they were hiding behind.

“At least somebody’s having a good morning…” Michonne said as she continued watch from behind the tree.

“Dumbasses,” he said shaking his head.  “It’s hard to believe people like that made it this long.”

“People like that?” Michonne repeated incredulously as she looked up at him. “Everybody that’s left in this world has fucked out in the woods at least once by now. It’s like joining the mile high club these days.”

He made a sour face at her that cause her to bark out a quiet laugh upon realizing…

“You’ve never…” she nodded her head toward the couple with a sly grin in lieu of saying the words.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Jesus, Grimes, I know you can be a stiff, but I gave you more credit than that,” she said though a hushed laugh as she looked ahead again.

“You recognize them?” he asked as he stared off into the empty woods behind her.

“I can’t tell.”

“Really? ‘Cause you’ve been staring at them this whole time.”

She glanced up and shot him a dirty look before squinting her eyes, trying to place the man’s slim build and brown curls.

“They don’t look like anyone from Hilltop or the Kingdom. Not Oceanside either.”

“Saviors?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she said shaking her head. “Oh shit, walkers,” she hissed.

He turned to see a group of at least a half a dozen walkers coming up over the crest of a small hill a few yards behind the tree, likely drawn by the sounds, movements, and smells of the amorous couple.

“Dumbasses,” he muttered once more before raising his hands to either side of his mouth. “Walkers!” he yelled out.

The couple startled, stopping mid-coitus as their heads turned in the direction of the voice then quickly turned again to locate the threat with the man seeing them behind her and nodding in that direction. She quickly slid off of the tree and him, dropping to the ground to fetch her grey pants while he buckled his, giving her cover while she shimmied into hers and slid on her black boots. He bent down and grabbed a sword, handing it to her as they exchanged a few hushed words before running off in separate directions as the walkers, which turned out to be more than just a handful, shuffled over the crest and into the clearing.

Realizing that they were now in the thick of it, as well, Michonne reached back for the handle of her sword before Rick stopped her.

“Probably not worth it,” he whispered hurriedly. “Let’s let ‘em pass on through. We’ll each take a side that way at least they’ll split if they hear us so there won’t be as many to take on.”

She nodded in agreement with his plan as he dashed across the path of the oncoming herd to get to the other side while she coolly sauntered back a few steps, adjusting her position as the dead chose their path.

The man with the brown curly hair sidestepped through the brush alongside the path the dead were taking, switching his gaze from the herd to the trail in front of him to keep from tripping. He had his Colt Python drawn and pointed off to the side just in case a few of them decided to step out of line.  He tried to look across the way to spot his girlfriend, and caught just a glimpse of her dark locs through the passing herd, putting him at ease for just a moment until he turned to find a man with his back to him and a gun drawn backing towards him.

“Drop it and put your hands up,” he instructed in a low, firm whisper as he raised his Colt and aimed it at the man’s back.

“You drop it,” the man said, turning and aiming right back at him instead.

At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about him, no tell tale sign that gave away which community he belonged to. His straight, light brown hair swept across his furrowed brow and tucked behind his ears, and he had a short, scruffy beard as most men did these days. His jacket, though, brown suede with a well worn shearling collar that was closer to yellow than white did tell him something. This man had rummaged through his camp site.

“That’s my jacket, asshole,” he barked.

“What the hell are you talking about?” the man with the straight hair asked as he glanced down at his brown suede coat. “This is mine.”

“Who are you?” he growled as he clicked the safety and took a step forward, keeping the Colt aimed at his chest.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked right back, stepping closer to the gun aimed at him as he aimed right back.

“Answer the question,” the the curly haired man instructed, emphasizing each word as his patience thinned.

“Hey, I just saved you and your girlfriend’s dumb asses from becoming walker bait,” the man shot back.

“We’d have been just fine on our own,” he assured him through gritted teeth and a sneer. “And you best not talk about her like that, you hear me?” he added.

“Just tell me your name,” the man with the jacket said with exasperation, rolling his eyes as he lowered his gun.

The man had, indeed, done them a solid by alerting them to the walkers, and sure, he had a gun drawn on him, but he’d have done the same thing if her was in his shoes, so he lowered his Colt in turn.

“I’m Rick. What’s yours?”

“I’m Rick,” the man in the jacket answered, causing the other Rick to raise his gun again and aim it at his chest.

“Cut the bullshit. You know what I did to the last guy who did this to me?” he asked, the repeated, taunting choruses of the Saviors’ I Am Negan still echoing in his mind.

Rick with the straight hair rolled his eyes at the pretty boy who thought he had it all figured out. “I could just lie and make my life a hell of a lot easier,” he offered facetiously.

“Who are you with?” Rick asked.

“I have my own community,” he answered seemingly honestly, “and I’m not willing to share that with you for their sake.”

Rick nodded back, unable to argue with his reasoning as he’d have answered the same way. “Are you with Negan?” he had to ask.

“Hell no,” he answered with immediate and palpable contempt that seemed hard to fake. “Are you?”

“No, fuck that guy.”

They nodded at each other as each slowly dropped their weapons to their sides. Shared names and a shared enemy were enough to call a truce for the time being as they went silent and kept watch over the passing herd. Rick glanced over at him, feeling unnerved by the sense of familiarity he had with this stranger. Little things like the intensity of his stare and the way he thumbed at the safety on his gun as he kept watch, even the vaguely Southern accent that came through when he wasn’t growling out his words. The man glanced over at him, as if he could feel Rick’s stare and hear his thoughts, causing him to quickly return his attention to the mindless herd shuffling by. There was something he still didn’t like about this guy, but then that’s how it started with Jesus, and he turned out alright. And he was in no position to turn down allies these days…he ran his hand through his tousled curls and sighed as he gave in.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“Are you for real?” the man asked incredulously. Rick simply nodded. “More than I can count. You?”

“Same. How many people have you killed?”

The straight-haired man huffed out a grim laugh and shook his head at the pretty boy. “You don’t want to know…you?” he asked with a smirk.

“Same,” Rick answered, causing the man’s eyes to widen with surprise. “Why’d you do it?”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t for fun,” Rick answered with resignation in his voice as he kept watch on the herd. “You?”

“Same,” Rick answered quietly, the man’s uneasy acceptance with that part of life feeling all too familiar, as well.

For most people, those answers would have been more than sufficient to earn his trust and earn this guy a spot in his community nevermind just an alliance, but there was still something holding him back. He bristled at the feel of the cool morning air cutting through the thin cotton of his denim shirt, pissed that there was a decent chance that his beloved brown jacket wouldn’t be waiting for him when he returned to the van thanks to this guy, so he was gonna get a fourth question.

“Is that really your jacket?”

Rick turned to stare at the pretty boy, long and hard, letting his eyes trail downward then back up to his face before snorting derisively.

“Your fly’s open,” he said with great pleasure before turning back to the herd and shaking his head. “…asshole.”

Rick looked down to see a strip of the light blue fabric of his boxers running between the faded black material of his unzipped jeans. He swallowed hard, trying to stifle his embarrassment and frustration, and rolled his eyes at himself and the man beside him, then anchored the bottom of his fly with his gun hand while he zipped himself up.

“Thank you,” he grumbled begrudgingly.

“My pleasure,” Rick with the straight hair returned with a small satisfied smirk.

At the sound of rustling in the grass behind her, the woman spun on her heel while unsheathing her sword in one fluid motion.

Shiiiing.

She could feel the vibration from the hard, unexpected stop of her katana against another in her hands and the quickening of her pulse as she peered through the space just above where the sharp edges of their metal blades were crossed between them. It was like looking in a mirror; what she felt in the tension of her own face, she saw on the other woman’s. The same glowering stare, same full lips forming a straight line to conceal any hint of emotion, and same downward tilt of the chin.

More striking even were the uncanny superficial similarities; the same dark skin, the long locs she wore fashioned into two low ponytails that cascaded over her chest, the brown vest peeking out from under her jacket that reminded her of the one she had recently lost, and the choice of tight pants and boots, though she added the feminine touch of a short skirt layered over it.

“Shit,” she whispered to herself, too stunned by the vision before her to maintain her stoic facade.

“I’m not looking for trouble if you’re not,” the other woman said, breaking her silence, as well.

“I’m not,” she assured her. Taking each other’s word at face value, they eased the tension between their crossed blades and lowered them to their sides. “That was you that alerted us to the walkers?”

“It was the guy I’m with, but, yeah.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly and sincerely. “…and sorry about that…display,” she added, feeling her cheeks flush at the thought of it. “We didn’t realize there was anyone else around.”

“No worries,” the other woman assured her, her face softening as a cheeky grin formed on her lips. “You looked like you were having a good time, plus your boyfriend has a cute little ass.”

And now she was completely overcome with embarrassment, shielding her eyes with her hand while she looked down at the ground. She was never going to forgive him for seducing her into being at one with nature instead of staying in the privacy of their perfectly good van.

“Oh sorry,” the woman said, seeing she had made the other woman uncomfortable for some reason. “Your husband?” she tried to correct.

The woman just shook her hung head side to side.

“Boy toy?” she guessed, grinning and nodding with approval. “Get it, girl.”

“No,” the woman said with a sigh as she lifted her head to face her again. “We’re together, it’s just…I’m Michonne,” she blurted out, desperate to change the subject.

The other woman’s grinning lips parted in awe, as she went still for a moment, staring at the woman before her.

“I’ve never met another Michonne in my life…”

“You’re…?” she asked, unable to finish the sentence as she just stared at this mirror image who apparently shared more than just a passing resemblance.

The other Michonne simply nodded.

“Whoa,” Michonne breathed out, unable to form a coherent thought.

The pony-tailed Michonne took a moment to get a really good look at this woman. Her long, shapely legs were covered in tight grey cargo pants secured around her hips by a black studded belt similar to the one that she had on. She wore a tight, white henley with the top few buttons undone and revealing her enviable cleavage. Her look read strong, yet sexy which she appreciated since she believed the two sides could absolutely coexist without detracting from the other. Her locs were slightly shorter and lightened by the sun, and she kept them off her face with a dark blue patterned headband of which she had a drawer full of back home. They could definitely share a closet which made her curious as to what else they shared.

“Where’d you get your sword?” she asked as she nodded at the katana in her hand.

“Found it in a pawn shop after everything went down. You?”

“Picked it off of my neighbor. He didn’t need it anymore,” she explained, flippantly referring to his deceased state.

“Where are you from?” Michonne with the grey pants asked, finally able to find her words again.

“Then or now?”

“Then–wait,” she said holding up her gloved hand. “Answer on three,” she instructed to ensure the true answer.  “One, two, three:”

“Atlanta,” they said in unison.

“Shit,” the pony-tailed Michonne marveled as she felt a chill run through her body.

“And now,” her counterpart instructed. “On three. One, two, three:”

“Alexandria,” they answered in unison.

“How is this possible?” Michonne with the grey pants whispered to herself.

She rolled up the sleeve of her henley and pinched her skin between her thumb and forefinger. She felt it, this was real. She held up the same hand and asked for permission to do the same to the other women with a questioning tilt of her head. The other Michonne agreed with a nod and pulled up the sleeve of her olive green coat to allow her access to the skin on her forearm. Michonne reached out and placed her fingers on her warm, smooth skin and pinched it. It defied all logic and possibility, but she was real. She shook her head breathlessly as the other Michonne pulled her sleeve back down and huffed out a laugh.  

“Zombies took over the world and I ended up calling rural Virginia home of all places,” she said glibly. “Nothing really surprises me anymore…”

Michonne shrugged, conceding to her point, then turned out to look across the herd of walkers parading by. She caught a glimpse of her Rick standing beside another man with a similar build and height as him. They both had longish hair and scruffy beards, and the same humorless stare, but that’s where the similarities stopped.

“Rick?” she asked, nodding toward the man with the straight hair and the brown jacket.

“Yeah.”

“You together?”

“No,” Michonne answered emphatically. “We’re just friends.”

“Well, probably not for long…” Michonne goaded with a sly grin, assuming that it was only a matter of time given how similar their paths seemed.

“Not gonna happen. He shacked up with a blonde.”

“Let me guess…Jessie?” Michonne asked knowingly, having fun with her newfound ability to tell the future. “That one’s not gonna last.”

“No, a girl named Andrea.”

“Andrea?” Michonne repeated, the smile knocked off her face with the revelation. “Holy shit…”

“You know her?”

“I knew one, yeah…”

She stared ahead at her Rick, thinking of the twists and turns in their lives that would have happened for the two of them to have ended up together. Sure she would still have her best friend, but she would have missed out on what she had with him and that was unfathomable now that she had experienced his love. It was too heavy to think about, that she had to lose one to have the other, so she preferred to imagine a world where she could have both her best friend and her lover instead of nothing at all.

“So you two were best friends?” Michonne asked nodding at the denim-clad, curly haired Rick.

“He had definitely become mine,” Michonne answered honestly, thankful for the distraction from the rabbit hole of what-if’s she had started to go down.

“I can’t even imagine that…” Michonne said, chuckling dryly to herself as she looked at her Rick, trying and failing to imagine anything ever developing between them. “I’ve gotta ask…how did it happen?”

“Well,” Michonne started, unable to keep the girlish grin of her lips just thinking about that day, “he was going out for a run, and I asked him to find some toothpaste for me. He couldn’t do that…but he did come home with a roll of mints instead, and one thing led to another, then…” She shrugged, leaving the rest of it up to her imagination.

“You went all in over a roll of mints?” Michonne asked skeptically.

“No,” Michonne said with a laugh, realizing how silly it all sounded. “It wasn’t about the mints…it showed that he was thinking about me when I wasn’t around just like I had found myself thinking about him more and more. Everything just clicked in that moment,” she said simply, not knowing any other way to describe the act of falling in love with him.

Michonne nodded, finding that answer a bit more plausible, then looked across the way at her Rick again and started to vehemently shake her head and laugh. Just the thought of him making eyes at her or leaning in to kiss her or whisper sweet nothings in her ear made her want to simultaneously gag and crawl out of her skin with embarrassment. She wasn’t a shy woman, but she would never be sharing that side of herself with that guy, no matter what world they lived in.

“Nope, I’m sorry. There’s just no way,” she said, causing her to start laughing, as well. “That’s just so weird. I mean, it had to be weird, right?” she asked, trying to level.

“I mean, maybe for like a second, I had this feeling of Oh god, what is he about to do?” she admitted. “But it was only a second, because after that?” She just nodded with a satisfied grin that gave away every dirty detail without saying a word. She was obviously a woman who was well taken care of.

They both started to laugh again, and Michonne shook her head at her behavior, feeling as though she may have shared too much about her relationship with Rick. “I’m sorry, this really isn’t like me.”

“Me either,” Michonne admitted. “I’m not much for sharing, so I mostly keep to myself. Don’t really have a lot of girlfriends, or friends at all, for that matter…but I guess this just feels like talking to myself,” she said with a small smile.

“Yeah,” Michonne nodded, agreeing with that feeling of the instant, easy connection between them. “Out of curiousity…are you with anyone?” She couldn’t help but be fascinated with the details of what another life might look like.

“No,” Michonne answered solemnly. “I don’t exactly have the best track record with keeping boyfriends around, so I’m on my own for now, maybe even for good…”

Michonne frowned, realizing that she had unwittingly touched upon something that caused deep pain to this woman, and she instantly recognized her response to that pain because it was her own for so long. The problem with building walls around your heart, though, was that they didn’t just protect you from getting hurt, they also held in the pain that was already there.

“You know, I can only imagine that we’ve both had our share of tragedy, losses we never thought we could come back from, or should even be allowed to come back from…” She trailed off for a moment, seeing her pain reflecting off of Michonne’s face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she thought of her son. “I had this friend, and she said something that stuck with me, that made me take a hard look at how I was living my life. She said, Dolor hic tibi proderit olim.”

“Someday this pain will be useful to you,” Michonne translated. “I took Latin in college,” she explained with a shrug.

“That’s it,” she nodded with a sad, yet hopeful smile, “For whatever reason, we’re here, and we owe it to the people we’ve lost, the people we still have, and ourselves to keep going, otherwise what are we doing?”

Michonne nodded, this sentiment not unfamiliar to her at all. It was something she told herself when she was lying awake in bed a night, something Rick had told her before, and now this woman. This other Michonne was the person she wished she could be if she could just allow herself to; still very much herself, tough, independent, and intelligent, but free from the guilt and pain that was holding her back from truly living. She cleared her throat, and looked back out into the forest.

“Looks like the herd is clearing.”

“Yeah,” Michonne agreed. She understood that these things didn’t happen overnight, but she hoped she had at least planted a seed like Deanna had done for her. “Let’s head on over toward the guys.”

They raised their katanas and cautiously walked out into the clearing, back to back, keeping an eye out for stragglers and each other. The coast was clear, however, and they lowered the swords as they met up with the men in the middle, sheathing their katanas as the men holstered their guns.

The men each immediately looked to their companions, wordlessly checking in on their safety with a look to which each woman nodded that all was fine. They then looked at the other’s companion and nodded a greeting. If they were rattled by each other’s appearance, they were downright unsettled by the striking resemblance between the two women.

“Well, we should keep moving,” the straight-haired Rick said his Michonne.

“Yeah, we’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to waste daylight,” the curly-haired Rick said to his.

Both women looked at each other with reluctance before the one in the white henley stepped in close to appeal to her boyfriend.

“What are you doing?” she whispered into his ear. “We need allies.”

He gave her a look, and shook his head no. Apparently he had his reasons which he wasn’t comfortable sharing him now, so she backed off and looked to the other Michonne who tried a different approach.

“So how do we get a hold each other if we need to?”

Her Rick just shrugged. “I think if it’s meant to happen, it will. Best not to force these things.”

She rolled her eyes at his vague, zen-like response, then straightened the katana strapped to her back, preparing to hit the road and return to her path.

“Well, maybe I’ll run into you again,” Michonne said, feeling her Rick take hold of her hand, anxious to get her moving back in the direction of their van.

“Maybe,” Michonne said as she watched the couple begin to part. “Hey Michonne,” she called out causing her to turn back in her direction.

She reached into her jacket pocket and grasped the items she had lifted from their camp site, then held out her clenched fist. Michonne dropped Rick’s hand and walked back over as the two men watched their exchange, then held out her hand. Michonne transferred the objects into her open palm, and began to laugh quietly as when she saw the expression on Michonne’s face as she closed her hand around the little foil squares that were back in her possession.

“I think those belong to you,” Michonne said with a grin.

“Yeah,” Michonne grinned back as she slid them into her back pocket. “Thanks.”

They backed away from each other as the men looked on curiously, and just like that, went on their their separate ways, and back to their lives.

The straight-haired Rick waited until they had at least a hundred yards between themselves and the couple before he finally spoke.

“That guy was an asshole,” he whispered, still sounding irritated by their encounter.

“Really?” Michonne asked as she kept an eye on their surroundings as they walked along. “She was actually pretty cool.”

Her positvity stopped him in his tracks, causing him to look down at her with concern. “Did I get the wrong Michonne back?”

“No,” she scoffed. “I’m serious, if there were more people like her around, maybe I’d have more friends.”

“Well, I’m sure you can still catch up with them if you want. Wouldn’t be the first time you ditched me…”

She looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief. He really act be like a 10 year old boy sometimes, but she loved him anyway.

“Nah, I’ve already got a best friend,” she assured him as they started walking again. “And one is all I can handle…”

She looked up at him to catch him grinning at her response then elbowed him in the side for acting like a brat.

As soon as they arrived back in the van, Rick dropped Michonne’s hand and left her standing outside as he climbed through the open side doors and started rifling around through the few belongings they had in there. Son of a bitch. Upon hearing him curse, Michonne craned her neck to look in after him just as he hopped out with his brown suede jacket in hand.

“That was the craziest damn thing that’s ever happened to me and which is sayin’ a lot,” he mused as he walked back over to her. “You OK?” he asked with concern.

“Yeah,” she nodded, though something about the tone of her voice and distant look in her eyes wasn’t convincing.

“You sure?” he asked as he draped his coat over her shoulder, wondering if maybe she was just cold, then rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her up.

“I’m sure,” she nodded as she looked him in the eyes. “I’m just thankful that after everything that’s happened, I ended up here. With you…you know?”

His lips turned into a smile as he nodded in response. Yes, he did, in fact. Against all odds, he had found his best friend and the love of his life under the most dire of circumstances when he needed it most. He knew exactly what she meant.

A/N: Prompt: TV Richonne meets GN Richonne while out on a run. 

I didn’t want to give away the twist upfront, so if it didn’t make any sense, maybe it will now. Thank you so much for this brilliant prompt, @fangirlbaker! I was so excited when I saw it. I took some liberties with it, but I hope you enjoyed it!

#richonne #richonne fanfiction #prompt fill #author: b and m #submission

[annavaught-posts]

This summer (and this autumn) I have thought of small things. I’ve been looking at microcosms, at the little piece of ivory (I’m quoting Jane Austen) that is my life. I’ve been focused on my community and on my garden – most specifically on its plants and animals of all sizes. On birds and butterflies; insects; bees. Barry the hedgehog (more on him later), Gavin the bat and Wayne the pigeon or, rather Wayne’s descendants (Ditto.) And I’ve been minded to observe other places I know well – and really to look at them properly. That’s why I have a collection of Pembrokeshire sea glass on my window sill and a display of tiny crab, auger and razon shells on the bathroom shelf.

Three chickens.

Three cats.

Three boys.

A little background.

I don’t know about you, but I have experienced the past year as relentless and deeply stressful. Actually, I do know lots of people have felt this way. That’s partly why I’ve just written a piece for the next Patrician Press anthology (My Europe) on how I felt, the day after the Brexit vote, at my youngest lad’s school sports’ day. Traumatised, that’s what. You don’t need me to tell you about Trump, but I’m married to an American and my mother in law cries on the phone about it. So. Were you to look at social media over the past year, you’d have seen many people lamenting the state of the world, writing about armageddon. We’d had three big bereavements and that’s just the tip of what’s been happening for us… So much – and by this summer, I felt I was also struggling with my writing – time, space, skill; meeting then no; full manuscript, long pause, then no. Now, I am not complaining as this is hardly unusual, but it became neccessary to address how I felt: that it had stopped being a joy and had become, instead, about defeat and stress and competition. It had become about working quickly in order to prove that I could catch up for starting late. Well that’s no good, because if it’s like this, it’s nothing. It’s based on false premises; on assumptions; on thinking that anyone’s actually looking. My teaching was going well, but I was unable to see it and I think you can see where this is heading.

By the end of July, I felt consumed by worry and permanently under the weather; I could not enjoy things other than distractedly. I realised I was becoming ill. I had a couple of dissociative episodes. (Read about those elsewhere. Like on the NHS page: http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/dissociative-disorders/Pages/Introduction.aspx#Types-of-dissociative-disorder.) One was at the end of the morning school run. Top work. A distracted and unsafe-feeling walk in drizzle was its beginning. They are frightening, but I’ve met them before. Time to find a sympathetic ear and also, while being mindful of what’s going on in the world, and proactive, to understand that I don’t help anyone or any situation by reacting with anxiety. That prolonged stress, however much I call myself an ‘I can do this’ tiger, is a risk for this mind and in a predictable way. And I’ll not be so productive if I go mad again. So you see, I am writing about necessity as well as the choice or responsibility to regard and serve beauty and other living things.

So. Too much in my head, then.

Time, as I recover, to think small. Domestics. Things closer to home. Some of it was really there but not being given enough time and joy; some was new this summer. And I wonder if some of what I describe may sound twee. Can’t help that. But as I describe homespun happiness, let me tell you that, with my background, we are talking about necessity too. And also, with three boys, about calm and about their feeling love and health in their family home. I grew up in a beautiful place, but not once can I look back at my childhood without a feeling of deep discomfort. I’ve written about that widely, for trauma is closely connected with dissociation and, of course, other mental health problems. So I have a notion of how it can be. In the home. It truly helps to think about your immediate environment. Not with competition, but in order to nurture what is already there. And I need to.

So who’s about?

Chickens. Three, as you saw. They are rescue girls. They started coming to live with us when my youngest, now six, was one. He thought they were the funniest things. Now, there is nothing like helping tend something (or someone!) back to life and health. When I collected our first batch of rescue hens, it was a shock. They were half bald; their combs very pale and flopping to one side. That first night they stood still, unsure what to do as darkness fell because they’d been housed under striplights. I lost a few of these first girls quite quickly because they cannot always cope with the bacteria in the ground, owing to poor natural immunity. They have not had a natural life and their peck of dirt. I had a couple I reckon died simply of shock, but we’ve done our best with our girls – the current community (and I’ve plans for more, but no more boys and…probably…no more cats) – are called Cookie, Cocoa and Frostie. Along the way, we’ve also had Cupcake and Florence (where Grandma is from) and, once, a particularly pathetic arrival which my teenage son called, unaccountably, Stacey.

These girls are such a pleasure. They chuckle and crow and coo. It does not take long to nurse them to health and they eat well – scraps, pellets, bugs; mealworms as a treat. They do hilarious things like jump on two rigid little legs for a bunch of grapes bounced up and down on elastic. I’ve made them things – like the ‘pecky log’, the hollows of which I fill with peanut butter. Their bald bits grow back, their eyes brighten and their combs take colour and stand erect. And their eggs are beautiful, too. When I talk to them, they answer back and I pick them up and walk with them. Hens respond well to conversation and to human contact. Well, we all do. Occasionally they escape and I once came home and found all three, in a row, chuckling at the garden gate they could actually have flown over. Then, one of them told me that they were only going so far because they liked living with us. Their personalities are clearly different and my six year old would tell you that Frostie is grumpy, Cocoa is shy and Cookie is confident but has very good manners.

They make me happy. If you are interested in rehoming, here:

http://www.bhwt.org.uk/about-us/

It is a scandal that these poor creatures live in such awful conditions – and don’t be fooled by the ‘enriched cages’ system that came into place as an improvement. It is still –must be – a miserable, compacted, humiliating life. But you can consider doing something about that, though give them space and time.

Insects. I ordered in our firewood early this year, and we set about making log piles here and there over the summer holiday. These make a haven for woodlice and all sorts of creepy crawlies, thereby helping to strengthen and diversify what you have going on in your garden. There’s a place and a need for all these beasties. We also made the decison, earlier in this year, to leave only part of the garden tidy. I don’t know why I didn’t do this before. In the scruffy area around the kids’ trampoline and next to the chicken run, I’ve seeded wildflowers and planted bee mats (which are a biodegradable garden weft that’s full of seeds for plants bees like). You can get these and the seed at any garen centre. Also, seed your own. Shake heads from poppies or whatever crops up there or elsewhere in your garden. So this Summer of Small Things, we’ve been able to peek at bugs and, also, to watch what popped up in scruffy garden. What we planted; what arrived. There’s campion, poppies, foxgloves, scabious; different types of grass; some wheat and even a head or two of barley have popped up too. It’s serendipitous, healthy and it makes me feel calm and productive. And there are are more bees and butterflies about, whereas before it just seemed to be the occasional cabbage white. Now, I see meadow blue. And took joy in a comma.

In addition to the scruffy patch, the youngest and I set about putting in extra lavender and thyme plants for the bees and two buddleia for the butterflies. I’ve fitted in a few small trees here and there (we don’t have a massive garden, but it is stuffed to the gills!) and attached extra bird feeders (NOT above your chicken run, though), ladybird and bee houses (pretty little turquoise ones – did I say how much colour is a boost to my mood?) and I’m making a hedgehog house because we are being visited regularly by a hedgehog we’ve named Barry. Just the other night, Barry turned up with a small hedgehog which the kids think is his very small hedgehog partner but looks more like a babe to me; hedgehogs have their litters (usually) in June and July in case you were wondering. And I was sure to watch the swifts, swallows and house martins. There were nests near by. And to sit outside or lie on the grass at twilight and watch the bats, especially the one (and I do know it’s not necessarily the same one!) the littlee has named Gavin.

I met a student of mine the other day. That is, someone I taught ten years ago. His warmest memory was not nailing A Streetcar Named Desire or UCAS applications or anything, but the fact that he’d remembered what I’d told him about birdsong in one of the digressions that are, I think, a key part of teaching; of life. It was the sound of a wood pigeon on a roof. ‘What is that?’ ‘Don’t you know?’ said I. ‘That’s a wood pigeon and he sang, “My toe bleeds Betty” three times and then an urgent, “Look!”‘

And it’s true. Listen out. We have an old house, tall with three floors and a broad attic. A deep pleasure of mine is to hear a pigeon do his call from the chimney stack and listen to how his call reverberates through the wide chimney and out into the broad fireplace in our sitting room – and I love it. And lest you think I’ve turned into, I don’t know, Kirstie Allsop with my wide chimney and, get me, broad inglenook, let me tell you that, once upon a time, I bought this place, semi-derelict, and it has been done up very slowly. It is quirky and unfinished and full of old rugs and thousands of books and therein is love. My in laws and much extended family think we are living in a house that’s too eccentric and too small and express dislike of it. But wherein did those criteria evolve? There’s warmth; soft beds; loads of stuff to do and cunning places to hang out and hide. Why don’t you come round? I’d love that, really.

If I have any dream about raising my family here, it’s that people come in and get comfortable and chuck their shoes off. If they feel sad, I’ve got lots of blankets and, like I said, places to hide in. And I want the boys to witness that: what you might construct a home of. There’s a cellar under the kitchen (this place used to be a pub), accessed by a dangerous ladder and on the rainy days, we play football in that cellar and I’ve let them, ferrals, graffiti the walls. Because you don’t need all the gubbins you think you do or someone told you you had to factor in because you were…I don’t know…successful…a parent…middle class…Oh – (apologies but I also love cursing) – slightly fuck off. We feel that this house, as it has evolved, looks after us. I used to be swayed by criticism of it. But not any more. Comfort and a feeling that a house welcomes you in are not small things. I was reflecting on that, this summer, too. About the feelings that are engendered in and by a place.

Oh yes – I mentioned Wayne the pigeon. He was a fellow with a bad wing and I nursed him back to health and off he flew. A bit wobbly but he nixed it. Please don’t tell he was thereafter beaten up by the other pigeons. But anyway, when I hear ‘My toe bleeds Betty’ on our chimney stack, I tell the kids that these are likely the descendants of Wayne. The older ones think I’m a mad old git person, but they love it anyway.

Cats. Three rescue. One was a dubious ‘return’ to the animal shelter; the other two car park kittens. Max; Ginger; Daisy. The first is a bit moody and known locally as the Chubmeister because he’s convinced some older residents here and there that he’d benefit from a snack and has become truly portly; the second can do tricks – like jump through a hoop to retrieve a pom pom – and she especially loves glitter pom poms. When you come down in the morning, she’s sitting waiting, with the glitter pom pom. Throw my pompom, person. I derive intense happiness from this silly, tiny thing. Oh and third cat: local teenagers refer to her as ‘Kitler’ because of her unfortunate marking. (No need to elaborate.) And did I say that we once hatched a load of ladybird larvae and, extraordinarily, there’s a crack in the plaster near where we set them free from their little hatchery and they come back and overwinter in that crack, just above my thirteen year old’s bed?

And the summer. Just down to my family in Pembrokeshire. Clifftops and shell collecting; going out on the boats and watching the shadows in the water (jellyfish); my telling them where the basking shark lie and about secret footpaths. Watching the comical puffins off skomer and the porpoises and dolphins in the bay. Waiting expectantly for the seals to come into pup. Bewhiskered old man seals. Rock pools. Telling them to shuffle their feet so as to avoid weever fish.

All these things. Pretty things and being lost in and awed by the natural world. Simultaneously, of course, imperfection and mess and stress. Confusion and moil and toil. Donald Trump on twitter and the profligate disregard he and his family appear to have for others; it makes me cry to see someone so arrogant with such an egregiously limited world view. You can do some things and I could never not petition or challenge, and I cannot ever be the sort of person who can decide not to look. I tried once. I – I’m sorry if this sounds judgemental – felt that I was cruel and vacuous to try to switch off and focus only on self care (as I had been several times advised to do), because why do we exist if not to make lives better for one another? And in looking out, there is purpose for you.

But there are the other things to think about too so that a line can, at some point, be drawn. Your health; the little piece of ivory; the wildlife and animals you can look at, nurse and encourage right beside you. You can be a steward of what’s around you and revel in its beauty too: that’s why there’s a pile of foraged quinces sitting in our fireplace. They are russet and lime green and they smell oriental, as old and time and deeply familar all in one rush.

So yes, The Summer of Small Things. Time to reflect and to move more slowly in a world that had been whirling. It’s a start. And, like I said, come round. Bring seeds. Or buns. Agapanthus seed heads I can hang up for decorations. ‘Please take’ pears from the box down the lane. And Frostie, Cookie and Cocoa are rolling in dust baths but would love it if you have some leftover spaghetti. They think it’s worms and run from each other to secrete their haul before devouring it. Come see.

Anna x

The Summer of Small Things This summer (and this autumn) I have thought of small things. I've been looking at microcosms, at the little piece of ivory (I'm quoting Jane Austen) that is my life.

[fangsfurvines]

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other? -I imagine Cole probably spends all the money when it's gift time, but the two typically don't spend money on anything most of the time. 2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Everyone assumes that Cole sleeps in Pepin's, but it's actually the other way around. 3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? Neither. The goal is to never wear pants around the house XD 4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? Cole sometimes stays up because of his cycle and terrible sleeping pattern. It drives Pepin up the wall. 5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? Pepin makes food, Cole tries to prove that he can cook but embarrasses himself by burning the food. Pepin then makes cookies while Cole insists that he's not bad at cooking, that it was just that one time. 6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Pepin is "This is us!" And Cole is "Eh, not really." 7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? Pepin! 8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Both! They probably either run errands together or at the exact time to cut on time. 9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? Cole drives most of the time and knows where he's going. When Pepin is driving, Cole often has to give her directions on HOW to drive since she doesn't know how 10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? Heheheh Cole poses and makes the "French girl" jokes 11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? Pepin is back flipping. Cole has the chips. 12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? I feel like Cole definitely drinks more? 13: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts? They're not a big "gift" couple, but Pepin is often the one to leave small notes and do lots of sweet gestures. 14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? COLE HAHAHA XD 15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? They both don't care about the spider. 16: Which one gives the other their jacket? Cole, all the time, even if Pepin isn't complaining. 17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling? *sigh* Pepin 18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Pepin! 19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? OOOOH MY GOD insanely good. Cole would be so protective of their kids. Their kids would be his biggest weakness, especially for a daughter. He'd bond so well with a son. He'd dote and he'd worry. When they're out all night as teenagers, he'd wait up until they got home. When they'd graduate college, he'd cry like a huge baby. Pepin would be a tiger mom and push them all to do their best at school. "You can do whatever you want in the future, but for NOW you MUST get ALL A's!" She'd sign all of their kids up for martial arts and every activity that they wanted to do. She'd be the biggest bitch to the parents of kids that try to bully hers, and Cole would just stand back giving the other parent a glare that says "THIS IS WHAT YOU GET." All of their kid's friends would be mildly terrified of her, but feel safe. Really, Pepin would do it all because she's the biggest softie. She's the one to sing sweet lullabies, give lots of praise, give the most hugs and kisses, and tell them that they're beautiful. 20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Despite English being her third or fifth language, Pepin is better at English. To their surprise (and Cole's dismay), Andrew is the one that types letters with numbers 21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? Cole is more afraid of what Pepin would do if there was a bully to try and fight either of them. 22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? Pepin is so amused by English puns and Cole is always amused that she finds them funny. 23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? Pepin would bring home the puppy and Cole would give in and say they could keep it. 24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Cole is the one to carry Pepin. 25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Pepin might end up doing competitive Judo again and Cole would be SHRIEKING 26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Cole, for sure. He'd never show Pepin because she'd kill him, and he always looks back at them because he's almost afraid that she'll disappear. He wants that reminder that she's there and with him 27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? So it'd be the opposite--Cole would probably dress up all proper and his hair would be trimmed and sleek one day. Pepin would HATE IT because she's so used to him being a little scruffy or frayed. "But these shirts were on sal-" "Change back." "But darling, I-" "Put your other clothes back on. When will your hair grow back?" 28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Pepin would probably end up adopting a cat that snuggles her and glares at Cole all the time, but he'd nod at the cat in respect because they both adore her. 29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Pepin, and Cole would be feel both embarrassed and flattered. 30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? They'd probably go to some riverside or lakeside property or a cabin in the woods. Cole would be the one to take photos of the smallest moments