ash come back to me

A lesson or a blessing

For every lie that escaped your lips; violence in the shape of question
marks,
I thank you.

For every laugh that left your mouth, a mockery of everything I am; everything
I stand for,
I thank you.

For every twisted paradise you made with your paintbrush that could only
ever paint pain,
I thank you.

You are the reason I live with my
pockets full of sunshine,

You are my hardest lesson and my strongest goodbye,

You built me up to watch me fall
and now I’m flying-

I owe you nothing but silence and ash,
for you killed parts of me that will
never come back.

But I thank you.

A scorose thingy

Hey, I just wanted to write a little Scorose thing. Nothing special. I was just bored. A falling back in love maybe??? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I should keep writing this. This is what happens when Cara is angsty and bored. Loove yas!


She was so many rules. “Don’t eat with your mouth full,” or; “Don’t forget to make sure he wears socks, it’s not the middle of summer out there!”

Sometimes it was more serious things that only idiots would do like; “Don’t swear in front of him – he hangs on to everything you say,” or; “Don’t let him touch your wand when you’re not around!”

“I don’t let him do that because it remind me too much of you.”

Sometimes it was spark-like backfires like; “I don’t want him to end up like you.”

Rose was all logical thought processes and painful truths. Everything she said was for a reason. Everything she did had a good reason behind it. That’s why she left me that hot, summers day. She had thought about it, analysed it and to her, it was the most logical thing to do.

I had drunk myself stupid at James’ apartment, I don’t know how many nights I had cried myself to sleep in James’ sheets and soaked Al’s shoulder. I don’t know how many times I lost my wand in a drunk mess – somewhere on the streets of Muggle London that made my dad’s temple pulse and literal steam come out of his ears. He would yell at me; “Why so reckless, Scorpius!”

I would reply with something about the amount of money he had and what use was it if not used on cleaning up my depressive mess. He hated me. I think a lot of people did.

She would come over to James’ flat and everytime I heard the sharp snap of her apparating, I would assume she was back to come and apologise and she was here to tell me I wasn’t a disgusting ferret and she was going to forgive me for my fuck ups and she just wanted to be a family again. I almost leapt out of the couch everytime she showed. But she never did forgive me, and she didn’t want to be a family again and she was probably even more disgusted than ever because how could I be a father when I was neck-deep in so many bottles of booze and I smelled worse than an ash tray? Sometimes she did promise to come back, only to give me my wand that she confiscated because I could kill someone while under the influence.

At one point, I didn’t see our son for a week.

Our son, our light. He was the true Chosen One. Even Harry Potter himself said that how could one kid brighten so many lives? He was supposed to be the one who broke us  - tore the great Malfoy name and cursed the great Weasley one. But he didn’t. He was the intertwining of the two Great Families. They talk of the Sacred Twenty-Eight as if it were some myth, but our son was so real. So, so real.

They all say that if you have a kid so young, sixteen and in short, we were in love, you’ve signed yourself up for a life doomed. Dooms day. After all, how can kids have kids? You’re supposed to do more, see more, become more. But I can’t have become any more than I was as a sixteen year old Scorpius. I was invincible, indestructible, impenetrable; all because of a squashed up kid wrapped up in muslin. He was blue eyes and blonde hair. He was loud screams and soft touches. He was my everything. He is my everything. I think sometimes I breathe because he’s around and at points, I don’t think I would be breathing if he was not here. Paths seemed clearer and shit, I loved Rose more for it. I loved her so much, I would have taken every hex, every curse, every Unforgivable Curse for that girl with the wild hair and the wilder eyes. And that in itself was the start of the end.

My mum told me once that it was hard to love a Malfoy. My dad told me once it was like loving a brick, loving a Malfoy. We ran, we skipped it, we ran from the darkness that followed us but as much as we had ditched it, it’s true. There’s always a little dark in us. Sometimes I pray to Merlin that my son has just the right amount of Weasley in him to dispel any darkness from him. Maybe he’d grow up and be all sharp words and sarcastic remarks. Just like his mum.

One of Rose’s many rules is a universal one: Don’t lie.

My mind thought over the lies so much, I find some sort of sickening comfort within when I think that the reason why I lied to her in the first place was not to hurt her.

I know that it hurt her more when she found out that I thought that might have worked.

I’ve now had eight months of thinking over my lies.

I did have my own flat. I lived on top of the Leaky Cauldron. Rose came and inspected it once. She told me she’d kill me if our son set foot in there, but I liked it. It had a bed – sleep was one of my saving graces and it took me away from the realisation that I had fucked up, even if just for a few hours. Caelum wasn’t allowed there, it was just as well because I was kicked out after eight weeks. Kicked out and shoved to the comforting embrace of James.

James didn’t mind. He was away most of the time and when he was home, he had a drinking buddy. Not just your usual one, oh no, I was far too dramatic for that. It was all loud singing and falling asleep on the toilet type of drinking. A cry yourself to sleep on your best mate’s brother’s shoulder sort of affair.

I’ve been on James’ couch ever since.

Today was different. I could feel it was different. She called me first thing this morning and didn’t question where I was. She said I could have our son for the entire weekend without asking if I had proper linen or knew how to work James’ TV. She didn’t tell me that her dad was going to come and pick him up at eight AM on Sunday morning so I was robbed of a whole day with him; “bring him home when you’re ready,” was her exact words. And I snatched them up.

I cleaned James’ house, I got rid of the empty beer bottles and threw out the fish n chip wrappers.  I shaved, I wore deodorant. I smoked a pack of cigarettes.

It’s weird how you lose yourself a little when someone leaves. You don’t realise how much you relied on a single person until they tell you that they don’t want you anymore.

They don’t want you to do this to them anymore.

That is the curse of falling in love when you don’t even know what love is. I mean, I think I know. I think I knew. Because even when we were young I had that dull throbbing in my chest every time she walked in and every word she spoke just astounded me. Maybe it wasn’t love at all. Maybe it was an obsession. I admit, I lost myself a little when she left. I was cold and everything was pitch black but I remember, I would never forget. It was two o'clock on a Summer’s afternoon when she found it appropriate to not forgive me.

It wasn’t the Summer anymore. Today was cold, dark and bleak. Typical of Britain’s forecast. It was announced through Diagon Alley when I went to visit Fred that we were in for a weeks worth of rain. But today, I don’t feel it. I only feel that my son is coming to me for an entire weekend and I had things I needed to buy from WWW’s even though he gets a lot of it’s shit for free.

I had chucked a large sum of cash on the counter, Fred gathered me up the best of the best.

This weekend was going to be the best of the best even if I did follow Rose’s rules.

I’m pacing the lounge room of James’ flat. There are pictures everywhere. Even a picture of Rose, Caelum and I when he’s hours old, nothing but fresh faces and smiles are in this picture. We move, barely. He moves a lot. He was just born, he wanted to experience the world. The one his young parents gave him. Maybe it was true; maybe we’re just another statistic.

I hear a truck pull up into the drive way. It was so  Muggle of her but our son goes to a Muggle school. She wanted to fit in. She chucked the cash I had given her as a way to say sorry at the dealer and drove away in a Ford Escape. There was no escaping that it was paid with Malfoy money or that it was a huge statement on Rose’s behalf.

I hear doors slamming. Hurried scurries up the steps. “Come on, mum!” he shouts and I rush to the door, just as quickly as he does because I can’t help it.

I open the door and grin, my arms out, waiting for my son. “Cae!” I say, “Hey mate!” I scoop him up into my arms, bury my face in his hair, kiss him a thousand times all over his face which he hates and I absolutely, positively love.

He groans and makes a choking sound; “Don’t dad!” he whines, shaking his face free from me. “You’re so gross!”

Rose saunters over, hair flying behind her but she’s still wearing her medi-witch robes. Her wand stuck into the messy bun and she’s frowning. “There’s a case of Witches Flu going around,” she states.

“I know,” I mutter, putting my son down. “I work at the same place as you.”

She doesn’t like being told anything. Rose Weasley was a know it all but the worst part was she actually knew it all. Every thing.

We had smoothly transitioned into the new life. Rose insisted that we make this as seamless as possible. We have a six year old son who doesn’t take well to glitches in the system, we had to work hard to make things easy for him. She had a reason for everything, just like she had a reason for making me move out.

We were twenty three years old and so old. I had aged two decades easily in the last eight months. It made me feel sick, it made my voice hitch, it made my hands shake when I drop our son off to his ‘mum’s’ place. It shouldn’t be like that – the great divide.

Often when I would drop him back off to her she would be leaned over a piece of parchment and scratching with a quill. She would still had her medi-witch gear on but her hair was always loose and falling like it was now. I always knocked awkwardly on the door as if I shouldn’t be there but I shared that home with her for three years, in the corner of her own lounge room was still a photo of us, seventeen and glowing, son bouncing in our arms, fresh faced and young just like the one here. And scared. Shit scared.

We made so many mistakes in the short time span, it was a wonder we didn’t combust earlier, a disaster of sparks and stars. We had our son when every odd was against us, our families were against us, shit, even we were against ourselves.

“So, how are you?,” I mutter to her, seeing our son sprawled out on the couch with his blonde hair everywhere and wearing a fake Harry Potter scar on his head. “Uh, did you buy that tattoo for him?”

Rose looks up briefly at me, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose but she slides them up and sniggers when she looks over at our son. “No, that would be your best friend, Albus.”

She walks in and dumps her hand bag on the floor before taking a seat at James’ table which is only there to make this place feel somewhat like a home.

“Your cousin,” I mumble but I take the seat across from her. “How was your day?” I ask.

“We work at the same place.”

“I wasn’t there today,” I reply.

“Hmmm,” she says.

She looks down and starts reading a copy of Witch Weekly that has James’ face plastered to the front, not meeting my eyes. I want to yell, scream at her, I want to pull the magazine out from under her hands, screw it up, chuck it in the fire. I want her to look at me because she never looks at me anymore. I need her to see me, see I’m bleeding from the inside because the light has gone out and she just doesn’t notice me anymore. “So we just don’t talk anymore?” I ask her.

“Hmmm,” she said quietly. “We need to organise which weekend is yours and which is mine,” she states matter-of-factly.

I didn’t want to discuss things like whose weekend is whose. I didn’t need it solidified that we didn’t make it and we needed to organise such things that tore our son and made him into another statistic. “Does it need organising? Can it wait?”

“Do you want a cuppa?” she asks, getting up quickly and putting the quill behind her ear. She flicks her wand in the direction of the cup cupboard and two cups come flying out. “I think I do.”

She drunk tea when she was happy. She drunk a hell of a lot when she was stressed. Her choice of pot was huge, a gift from Luna Lovegood to James for his housewarming, apparently. “Sure, if it will make you ease up…”

She hated that. I was wondering if I would see sparks flying at my head. “I’m over fighting.”

“Do you think I enjoy it?” I ask her. “Because I don’t. I’m sick of this, the tension we used to always -” I’m cut off.

“We used to always talk? Yeah, I know, Scorpius,” she says exhaling loudly. “We used to stay up all night and talk about everything.”

“Then why can’t we?” I hiss but she shushes me, eyes flicking around.

“I don’t want to fight with Cae around,” she says through her teeth.

I look back into the lounge room but it looks like our son has figured out the TV which is just as well, because I didn’t want to lie to Rose again and tell her I knew how to work it. “He’s occupied,” I tell her. “And we’re not fighting.”

She rolls her eyes as she flicks her wand at the kettle on the stove. “Yeah, sure,” she says.

“You know, for a person who states she doesn’t want to fight anymore, you keep going on…”

She laughs a little before shoving my shoulder as I lean against the bench. It had been five months since she’s actually touched me. I wonder if it’s stupid to think that maybe she’s burnt through my shirt and straight onto my skin but I shouldn’t think about those things. How her hands feel on me. “I’m sorry -” this time I cut her off.

“Call Rita Skeeter, Rose Weasley is sorry!” I say, grinning at her.

She smiles weakly back. “Stop smiling at me,” she mumbles. “We have no reason to smile.”

“I do,” I tell her honestly. “Because you’re talking to me and that’s always something to smile about.”

“Stop it with your words, Scorp, we need to be serious,” she says, meeting my eyes. I can see they’re still deep blue and worrying. Her eyebrows are knitting together, she was definitely worrying.

“I cleaned up,” I tell her, moving my arms through the kitchen. “Can you tell?”

“Well done,” she says in the same voice that she uses when Caelum brushes his teeth.

“Thank you,” I say anyways.

She sighs and starts searching the cupboards for the tea leaves that James doesn’t own. “You busy tomorrow?” she asks me.

She turns to look at me and now I’m confused. “You’re not going to take him tomorrow, are you? I thought you said I could have him until Sunday…”

She shakes her head and her eyes widen. “Shit. No. I just meant, if you guys were going to do something, then maybe I’d tag along…”

I raise an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips, I try not to smirk, it will just piss her off more. “We could do something if you wanted to?” I challenge.

She inhales deeply and nods. “Yeah, that would be good.”

“Why the change in attitude?” I ask her. I didn’t get where this was going or why it was even going at all but I didn’t want to lose this – the moving forward.

“If this is how our life is going to be, then I want to move on, for the sake of our son.”

I sigh and nod. Accepting this. “Ok, let’s move forward.”

“Or maybe,” she says, looking down at the floor. “We should just start all over again.”

I don’t say anything, I just smile to myself. Maybe I had a shot at things, maybe. Maybe I just need to stop taking my chances and see where this was going to take us.

I have a lot of mini-fics with World End and Shuhei stashed away because I didn’t feel like they were flushed out enough to post. After seeing this wonderful art of the two, I decided to just post one.


“After that cat!” World End pushed his way through the crowd. Behind him, Shuhei struggled to keep pace with him and apologize to the passing strangers at the same time. They were buying supplies when World End spotted a black cat and began to chase it. “Is that you, Sleepy Ash? Come back here and fiiight me!!! We both have Eves now so let me challenge you!”

“That’s just a regular cat! If that cat is Sloth, Mahiru would be with him but he’s in school at this hour.” Shuhei screamed after him. Unfortunately, his words fell on deaf ears as World End continued to chase the cat. Why did he have to make a contract with such a single minded vampire?

“It is him!” World End argued. “Why else would the cat run?”

“Because you screamed ‘fight me’ and scared it!” Shuhei pointed out.

They turned into an alley and he saw the cat squeeze through a chain fence. When World End paused to climb after it, Shuhei grabbed his shoulder to stop him. He was out of breath and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to follow World End over the fence. Exasperated, he tried to reason with him one more time. “We need to return to work, World End! I’ll buy you lunch afterwards.”

“It’ll just take me five minutes to catch Kuro.” He whined and tried to climb higher. Shuhei was still hanging on him and he felt himself being lifted off the ground slightly. He wrapped his arms around his neck more tightly to not fall. Usually food was enough to him persuade so he didn’t know what else to use.

“Masa, you stop climbing right now!” He was a little surprised when he followed his order. World End turned to face him and saw how tired he was. So, he jumped off the fence and made sure to hold onto Shuhei securely. Once they were on the ground again, he slipped off his back. He tried to catch his breath and World End patted his back.

“Hey, you finally called my name.” World End pointed out and Shuhei raised a brow at him. Even though he gave him a name to form their contract, he would continue to call him World End or Gluttony.

“If calling your name was all it takes to make you behave, I need to use it a lot more.”


Thinking of a name Shuhei would give World End was so hard (I didn’t want to reuse Hiro). I wanted it to be 4 letters like the others and have a significant meaning to Shuhei. I got Masa from looking at his father’s name, Yoshimasa.

Night terrors

Hanzo opens his eyes. The air has the sweet smell of cherry blossoms.

He lays flat on his back, surrounded by long flowing golden white grass. He blinks a few times and gets himself to his feet.

He’s in a field of tall grass and flowers, the sky a brilliant blue, the wind gentle and sweet. A single cherry blossom tree sits up on a hill, it’s peddles blowing hanzo’s way. The wind blows his downed hair gently, whispering his name.

He starts towards the tree, getting closer the whisper begins to grow louder. He blinks, a figure appearing on the hill.

“Genji?” He breathes out shakily, the figure was calling his name, waving an arm. Hanzo swallows and starts running towards the tree. The figure continues to call his name.

The sky grows dark. The wind beginning to grow harsh and whistle, dark clouds rushing to cover the sky. He stops, looking up at the sky. Thunder clashes louder then the roar of 100 dragons. Hanzo clasps his hands over his ears closing his eyes, he shakily looks up towards the tree, Lightning jags across the darkened sky, stabbing the tree, catching it ablaze. Hanzo’s eyes widen, his eyes searching for the figure of his long dead brother. He starts running towards the tree, screaming his brothers name.

A bright flash surrounds the shimada, making him shield his eyes. Once The flash dies he opens his eyes again.

Panting he looks around, every thing around him was a dark void, the faint sound of thunder still rumbles, he looks around, walking backwards.

Stepping back he trips over something. A squelch escapes his throat as he falls. He hits the ground with a hard snapping thud, like a gun shot. He groans and shakily sits up, at his feet lays the mangled body off his brother, wheezing and gasping for breath, blood spilling from deep open sword wounds.

Hanzo’s eyes grow wide, his pupils shrinking, he chokes out a cry and turns to his knees and reaches out to hold his brother, only resulting of his younger brothers body to crumble to ash. Hanzo shakily sits on his knees, then grips handfuls of the ash and sobs. “I-I’m sorry…Genji…Please…j-just..come back to me.. please..You didn’t deserve this..,” he whimpers, tears slipping from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks.

Something splats onto his hand, he sniffles and glances over. A red droplet of fluid, slides off his hand, hanzo shakily looks up, clouds are now visible in the darkness of the void he’s in, red lighting flashes in the clouds, and the thick red fluid begins to pour from above, drenching hanzo’s clothes, the heavy smell of metallic and iron fills the air. Hanzo’s eyes widen as he gets to his feet. The fluid was blood.

He looks around frantically, searching for any sort of way out or shelter, he stops, his eyes latching onto a figure that is limping and staggering forward. Hanzo stairs silently,

Frozen.

The figure was Genji. Zombified and withering, covered in wounds, his skin falling from his body, teeth exsposed, his clothes torn.

Hanzo couldn’t move, he was paralyzed, watching in horror as the decaying image of his brother kreeps closer.

He began to cry again, his heart aching. The figure crept forward, and reaches out its boney hand, to touch hanzo, hanzo stands there shakily, starring into his brothers, cold, faded eyes.

“…Genji…,” he whispers, shakily reaching out his shakily hand, touching the hand to the creatures face.

The skin of the figures cheek grows warm when hanzo comes in contact. The wounds begin to heal, the skin repairing itself. Hanzo’s whines softly,his heart beginning to thud.

Genji blinks and looks at him.

“H-hanzo…?” He murmurs, staggering forward. Hanzo braces his arms to catch him but he only fades away before he falls into his embrace. Hanzo stumbles, his arms hugging himself. He chokes up and stairs at his hands and screams out in furry.

The blood rain continues to pour. Hanzo drops to his knees, gripping his head, screaming out until his throat aches and his lungs burn. He sits up his knees, crying.

he opens his eyes after a while. seeing feet, he looks up. A cybernetic human stands there, holding a tip of a sword to hanzo’s throat, its eyes angry, his irises and pupils red.

“I…will never…forget,” it growls and draws the sword back to swing. Hanzo’s eyes grow wide and he raises a hand to speak. The cyborg slashes the sword, hacking it into the side of hanzo neck.

The archer chokes, blood rushing into his throat, bubbling up into his mouth. He gurgles, blood slipping from his lips, he gasps for breath, the blood filling his lungs at a alarming rate, the ground seems to collapse from underneath him as he begins to fall into the darkness of the void, he hazily watches as he falls farther from the cyborg, still standing on the platform. His eyes flutter and close. The faint call of his name it what sounds like his mothers voice, draws him to open his eyes.

He turns his head shakily, trying to find her. “Mother…?” He murmurs. The call to home begins to grow loud and frantic, turning into Jesse’s voice. It turns into a desperate cry.

Hanzo opens his eyes. jerking up in a cold sweat.

“Darlin, thank god, You’ve been muttering and screaming for the past thee hours,” McCree whines worriedly.

Hanzo turns and looks at Jesse, his heart racing, he quickly wraps his arms around the gunslinger. McCree jumps slightly, before carefully placing his arms around his darlings body.

Hanzo cries into his chest, sobbing. Jesse sighs shakily and fixes the comforter and lays down again, pulling it high up on him and hanzo. He lays his head into his pillow, pulling hanzo close, lifting the shirt on his back to stoke his spine carefully. Hanzo cries shakily, nuzzling into Jesse’s bare chest.

Jesse quietly hushes him whispering softly in his ear. Hanzo grips onto him, curling up slightly, haunting images of that dreadful night creeping into his mind.

McCree kisses hanzo’s head carefully. “It’s okay Darlin’…it w’s just a dream…” he says quietly.

“I’m a murderer…” hanzo chokes out coughing through his tears. Jesse sighs shakily and pushes his hair out of his face, kissing hanzos eye carefully.

How could he tell him the truth about Genji, if he knew he was alive… he just isn’t ready for that.

“Hannybee… j'st try not to think about it” he says gently, pulling him closer, nuzzling his head. Hanzo whimpers in response, nuzzling into him shakily. McCree sighs, rubbing his back, humming softly, lulling hanzo back into sleep.

McCree kisses his head gently, holding him close and tight. He gently closes his eyes, falling into his own slumber.

A playlist for long distance lovers

Don’t Find Another Love Tegan and Sara | You Haunt Me Sir Sly | Weights & Measures Dry the River | No Light, No Light Florence + The Machine | Drove Me Wild Tegan and Sara | If You Wanna The Vaccines | Make It Without You Andrew Belle | Now I’m All Messed Up Tegan and Sara | Habits (Stay High) Tove Lo | You Could Be Happy Snow Patrol | Already Home Ha*Ash | Daylight Maroon 5 | Come Back to Me David Cook | Stay Over The Rescues | Shock to Your System Tegan and Sara | One Day Soon Luluc | Secret Tunnel

[LISTEN]

(note: 8tracks only allows two tracks per artist so Drove Me Wild and Shock to Your System aren’t on there but you should really listen to them)

lesbianblossomjimin  asked:

3 and 24!!! hi :))

SAKLFJAK;LDFJA!!! HI ASH 💖💖

3: What do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”

I think of my first college. With my roommates Kayla and @lesbianblossomjimin when we would scream “meow” across our apartment at like 3am at each other, because we’re crazy. And it was funny. And we were either dying of laughter or really drunk, there was no in between.

24: Is there a certain quote you live by?

It’s more of a word that I live by. It was said to me at my first art school, by my favorite teacher. The word is “purpose.” It’s meaning always stuck with me because the teacher that said it basically told me I’m a kick-ass graphic designer and I should ignore what the bullies said. It developed into a quote that he shared with our class one day and it was, “design with a purpose,” meaning every. single. thing. in a design had a purpose. Never just haphazardly place things. 

distract me pls

4

You want to put a man forward as the face of our efforts to oust the Engliish from the island. Why not use Flint? They all know him already. They fear him already.

before the storm

so I’m way late but I just finished the last two episodes of before the storm but I have some thoughts… they did not elaborate on Rachel + the fire as much as I thought they would. After that scene at the end of Episode One that had every one reeling I really thought Rachel would have some fire-related abilities (why not Max can literally time travel and Chloe and can apparently talk to her dead dad). Then I play episode two and NOTHING. Just “I can’t believe Rachel started that fire” I CAN ThE FIRE LITERALLY GREW AS SHE WAILED. Finally we find ourselves in episode three and we hear the firefighters talking about how the fire of the century just went out?? Just like that. Like exactly the same time Rachel was stabbed??? This girl is special. She reminds me of a Phoenix and by that I mean she better come back from the ashes in a sequel. GIVE ME RACHEL/CHLOE/MAX let my girls be happy

dallas1232  asked:

What do you think was going through Ash and Pucks mind when they were first becoming friends?

Oooh, so many things. It probably made them both dizzy. 

I think Puck was probably somewhere between “Is this kid for real? He’s totally planning to stab me in the back later, isn’t he?” and “This could be so fun; let’s do it!” And Ash was somewhere between, “This man will eventually be my killer…” and “There are 1,001 different ways to piss off Mab and he embodies every single one…Sure, why not?”

I think a lot of their initial conversations started off: 

Ash: “Goodfellow, no.”

Puck: “Goodfellow, yes.”

And eventually graduated to: 

Ash: “If this goes badly, I’m leaving you behind.”

Puck: “You’d turn right around and come back for me and we both know it.”

Ash: “Oh, shut up…”

I think they started off probably being super hesitant around each other, until Ash eventually realized Puck’s pranks weren’t intended to kill him and Puck realized Ash hated his mother too much to tell her about Puck sneaking into Winter’s territory.

I hope this answers your question. =)

I asked you to be my forever, you said you already were

So this took a slightly different turn than I originally intended but here we are. Also for the sake of the story, let’s just pretend camp was somewhere by a beach and it was warm, because, well, you’ll see…


Ash breathes in deeply as the crowed erupted into cheers. Another cap, another win and on her birthday no less. It had been a long time coming and she still wasn’t the  number one, but that was ok. Another cap was another cap and it was all good experience and she always cherished every opportunity to play for her country with her teammates, with her family. The only thing missing was Ali on the field in front of her. Ash missed playing with Ali, missed having her on her defence for club and country; she couldn’t contain her excitement at the prospect of having Ali with her in Orlando next year, having Ali there as a voice of wisdom and experience, directing their backline right into the play offs. Having Ali in their home, having Ali next to her every morning again, and coming home with her every night.

“Nice shutout Harris, you’re well and truly into your thirties now,” Kelley jokes as she pulls Ash into a hug.

“Yeah whatever O'Hara you’re not far behind me,” Ash laughs back at the defender who just grins, running down the field.

Ash shakes her head at Kelley’s antics and her eyes scan the crowd until she finds Ali who’s standing up in her seat next to Alex, clapping and cheering and Ash waves and grins as she meets Ali’s eyes. Ash can practically see the excitement seeping out of her girlfriend and it warms her heart; she’s always felt like Ali’s biggest supporter and although she wouldn’t take any of it back, it feels nice to have someone out there cheering for her. She just wishes it was them both on the field on her birthday, celebrating together. Of course she knows Ali isn’t cut from the team and Jill is just rotating players or whatever she’s been harping on about lately; if Ash is honest with herself, she’s given up trying to understand Jill’s tactics and just hopes that one way or another they pay off. When Ali had found out she wasn’t on the roster it hadn’t been as bad as all the times Ash had received that call, Jill promising it wasn’t a final decision by any shot, but Ash could see the hurt in Ali’s whole body and she’d held her close as the tears had trailed slowly down her cheeks, reassuring her she’d be back. She would be back, of course she would but not making a roster is horrible even if it’s just for a friendly match. Ash knows, god does she know that. So Ash had told Ali she needn’t come to the friendly, birthday or not, but Ali had laughed, pulling Ash close in bed one night, whispering her love against her skin. I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world baby. 


So Ali had made the trip down a couple of days after camp had started for Ash, staying with the team on gameday. Well, staying with Ash really. She’d cleared it with Crystal who was rooming with Ash and had spent the night last night, grateful she was able to wake up next to her girlfriend on her birthday.

“Happy Birthday baby,” Ali whispers as Ash’s eyes slowly crack open, the early morning sun casting a slight shadow on her face.

“Good morning beautiful,” Ash smiles out and Ali’s heart flutters, like it always does at the sight of Ash first thing in the morning. She’s all beauty and innocence, as if the weight of the world that she always seems to carry hasn’t quite found its place on her shoulders yet.

“You’re catching up with me,” Ali giggles as Ash groans.

“Whatever you cougar,” Ash teases and Ali feigns offence.

“No birthday kiss then,” and Ash pouts.

“Please baby, pretty please,” and Ali laughs, pressing a soft kiss to Ash’s lips. “Like I could ever deny you anything, birthday or not.”

Ash kisses Ali deeper and hears her moan into the kiss as Ali rolls them over so she’s straddling Ash, pulling back reluctantly.

“As much as I’d like to do this, right now, we can’t,” Ali mumbles out and Ash groans.

“I know, I know,” Ash pouts, hands running up Ali’s back as she sighs contentedly.

“Don’t worry, I have a surprise for you later,” Ali teases and Ash cocks her eyebrow.

“Are you going to be naked?” Ash asks and Ali laughs.

“Anything for the birthday girl,” Ali winks as she climbs off Ash and heads to the bathroom and Ash just groans, mumbling out how lucky she is.

“Ash can you grab me my shampoo from my overnight bag?” Ali shouts from the bathroom and Ash rises out of bed, as she locates Ali’s bag.

“I can’t find it babe, did you bring it? You can always use mine it’s in the shower already,” Ash calls out.

She jumps slightly as she feels Ali’s breath hot against her neck.

“Turn around,” Ali whispers and Ash does as she’s told and when she’s facing Ali she feels her heart skip a beat at the look of excitement on her girlfriend’s face. She’s holding a simply wrapped box in her hands. “I debated giving this to you after the game, but I have another gift for you then so I wanted to give you this first. It’s not much but I hope you like it, and if you don’t well we can send them back but I just thought they went well together and, oh maybe I shouldn’t have it’s too much you’re going to think it’s la-.”

“Alex. Baby, breathe. Whatever it is I’m going to love it. You, here with me is enough of a present you know that.”

Ali nods as she looks down at her feet, shuffling them slightly and Ash tilts her head so they’re looking into each other’s eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and grinning as she holds her hands out for her present.

“Now gimme woman,” and Ash grins, letting Ali placing the box in her hands.

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anonymous asked:

Ash age 10, are you Peter pan? Are your unevolved pokemon your loat boys?

ACTUALLY MY TRAVELING COMPANIONS ARE MY LOST BOYS AND PIKACHU IS TINKERBELL.  AND YOU ARE ALL THE REST OF THE WORLD, MIRRORING MY FANTASY, SO CLOSE YET UNTOUCHABLE.  YOU COME TO DANCE AND SPIN AND BE MERRY WITH ME, AND THEN YOU LEAVE, AND I WATCH YOU GROW FROM THE SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT, A PLACE BEYOND LITERATURE AND DISNEY FANTASIES, A PLACE THAT TRULY EXISTS, WHERE MY SORROW GLOWS DIMLY AT NIGHT AND DREAMS OF A TIME WHEN YOU’LL COME BACK TO ME.

-ASH AGE 10

Ash : hey you look down today whats up
Bri : why are all ur fans posting a lot of pics about you and luke i just hate it that they ship you together
Ash : yeah but lukey is a good person ..
Bri : i hate it ok
Ash : he is cute and nice
Bri : and i hate it i dont wanna see you again with him
Ash : he is my band mates and i like him
Bri : ew dont tell me that there is really something btw you two
Ash : and what if
Bri : im your gf ok
Ash : no you are no
Bri : what are you telling me that you choose luke over me
Ash : i will always choose luke over any other person bc i love him and now bye bryana never call me again

And ash come back to the hotel room find luke and they fuck all night happy lashton end yay