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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

Blame Me - Chapter 5

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 12K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Canon typical violence, canon divergence, gore, murder, mention of past child death, mention of major character death (OC), Daryl and Aaron bonding time, Daryl and y/n bonding time, major character death

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Okay, this is probably my least favourite chapter, but I can’t wait to write the next chapters. Chapter 6 and 7 are gonna be painful y’all so good luck. Enjoy!

Daryl was quiet, Beth noticed. He was always quiet, but not like this. He hadn't been like this since after he'd lost his girl. Not that anyone knew that except for his asshole older brother. Beth was worried, about everyone, but right now, she was worried for Daryl most of all. Any time he did open his mouth, something sarcastic, cold or cynical came out. It wasn't like him. Maybe in the early days, but definitely not now. He couldn't stop thinking about everyone they'd lost. Not just at the prison, everyone they'd lost along the way. Even who he'd lost before. He didn't have much to lose before, but the people he had, were everything. She was everything. But she was gone. Probably dead. He was just holding out hope on another pipe dream. But even despite that, he couldn't bring himself to remove his ring. The cool metal almost burnt his skin whenever he thought about her, or anyone else he'd lost. Like a reminder of his failure. Since the prison had fallen, every day with Beth felt like a blur.

He shouldn't dwell on it, he knew that, but he couldn't help but wonder how many people died. How many people got out. If anyone other than him and Beth did. Part of him thought that it didn't matter. Hershel was dead because he didn't kill the Governor when he had the chance. He owed it to the vet to protect his daughter. And somehow, that had ended up with them in some old shed, something similar to what he and Merle would have lived in once upon a time, in the middle of the woods. Somehow, he'd ended up playing a dumb game, like some damn teenagers. At least Beth wasn't too far off. He took a sip of the moonshine as she started explaining, clearly slightly tipsy from her first-ever drink.

"So first, I say something I've never done and if you have done it, you drink, and if you haven't, I drink. Then we switch. You really don't know this game?" Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise, not deterred by his so-called "intimidating" stare. Daryl moved the hand that was in front of his face, shifting his position slightly.

"I never needed a game to get lit before."

"Wait, are we startin'?" She asked, and while her face stayed the same, Daryl picked up on the teasing lilt in her voice, eyes shining slightly.

"How do you know this game?" He questioned, using his pinky to point at her

"My friends played. I watched," She shifted slightly before lightly shaking her head "Okay, I'll start. I've never shot a crossbow. So now you drink."

Daryl reached forward to the glass of water and lifted it to his mouth, looking just as unamused as before "Ain't much of a game."

"That was a warm-up. Now you go," Beth insisted but Daryl just stared back at her for a second, shrugging.

"I don't know."

"Just say the first thing that pops into your head," She shot back with a small smile. Plenty of things popped into his head, but they were too personal to share with Beth. Too much about his girl. He didn't know if he was ready to tell her yet. Daryl knew Beth wouldn't care, not really, but just thinking about her made his brain and chest hurt. An aching he couldn't get rid of.

"I've never been out of Georgia," Was the answer he settled on. He was gonna leave Georgia, right after his hunting trip. Leave early, fly to South Carolina and surprise (Y/N) and her ma. But it never happened. Dead made sure of that. Beth's eyebrows rose slightly. He was an outdoorsy guy, a hunter. She thought he'd have been all over.

"Really? Okay, good one. I've never... been drunk and did somethin' I regretted," She stated after taking a sip of her drink. Beth knew she was starting to push the line slightly. Knew his fuse was slightly shorter after the prison. But he didn't bat an eye, just reached forward and had a drink.

"I've done a lot of things," He replied, keeping his gaze on the table. Yeah, like leave his girl behind. Didn't even go looking. What kind of husband didn't even try to find his wife when the world ended? "I never been on vacation."

"What about campin'?" Beth questioned but Daryl shook his head immediately.

"No, that was just something I had to learn to hunt," Because, his family were shitty people, and didn't even think to go looking when he went missing as a kid. Not that he added that.

"Your dad teach you?" She asked, and she knew that the line was getting toed here. She'd never asked about his dad, but from interactions she'd overheard with Daryl and Rick, sometimes Carol or even Carl, their relationship hadn't been pretty. Daryl released a hum of agreement.

"Alright... never have I ever been in love," Beth said, and she saw Daryl's eyes flicker down to the ring she still wore from when she was still with Jimmy. She didn't really expect much, but it was the only thing that came to mind. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, bristling at the implication behind her words, and he found himself spinning his own ring with his thumb, absentmindedly.

"The hell ya implyin'" He snapped, eyes narrowing slightly, and Beth looked slightly alarmed by how defensive he got and how quickly. She'd seen his explosive temper before but she'd never been at the brunt of it. But Daryl didn't back down, even as she showed him her scared eyes. The damn girl had no right prying. He'd played her stupid ass game, given her some stupid ass answers. But then, he swore he saw (Y/N) in the corner, giving him that disapproving look that made him swallow any anger he'd had right up, and he looked to the floor, taking a second to breathe.

"Ya ain't ever been in love?" It was clear Daryl was asking about Jimmy and Zach. His brain wandered to Zach, asking him every day without fail about what he did before the apocalypse; getting bitten on the way out of that store; getting crushed by the helicopter. Having to deliver the news to beth, who didn't even react.

"I loved Jimmy sure, but I wasn't in love with him. Zach neither. Meant a lot to me, both of 'em but, never loved 'em like that. I only married Jimmy because I thought we were the last ones left," Beth explained, and to anyone else, it would have sounded cold. But Daryl understood. This world did weird shit to your brain, and it didn't surprise him that she'd latched to Zach and Jimmy. While he was thinking, Beth watched his expression. She noticed the look of despair that crossed his face quickly, and how it hardened a second after. And finally, after over a year of them being in the group together, she saw his ring, as he brought his arm to rest on his knee so his other hand could twirl it. He hadn't even noticed he'd done it. He bit his lip, deep in thought, before he looked up and saw Beth's expectant eyes.

"Did you have to kill her?" If that didn't get under his skin he didn't know what would. No disapproving look from his not-there wife could stop the rage bubbling in his chest. It boiled up his neck, to his face and he just knew he'd gone slightly red. Almost immediately, he saw regret on Beth's as he stood up.

"I'm going to take a piss," Daryl snarled, picking up one of the empty jars on the table and smashing it as he made his way over to the corner of the room. He heard Beth's breath hitch in a suppressed gasp of surprise.

"You have to be quiet!" Beth hissed, and that only pissed him off more. He knew there were walkers outside, knew he was being stupid, but she'd started prying. Drunk or not, she'd gone too far and he'd had enough.

"Can't hear ya! 'M taking a piss!" He yelled back, to which Beth shot back some response about being quiet, as he unzipped and started doing his business "What, are ya ma chaperone now?"

Daryl zipped himself back up but didn't bother to do his belt up, and it clanked against his button. He knew this would be a good place to drop it since she had gone silent, but she'd taken a dig at him. One way too personal. One that involved his family. One she had no business in. So he whirled around, voice much louder than it should have been.

"Oh, wait. It's my turn, right? I've never-never eaten frozen yoghurt. Never had a pet pony. Never got nothin' from Santa Claus," He slammed his hand against the cluttered table he stood next to, as the emotions that had built up over the past few days finally poured out. Beth looked scared, but there was anger dwelling behind her eyes too "Never relied on anyone for protection before. Hell, I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anything."

Daryl had started pacing, and he narrowed in on the blonde, tone sharp and cold. He knew he was lying at that point. True, he'd never relied on anyone for protection. But he'd relied on his girl for so much that he didn't even know where that list started or ended. She just swam in his head, and she could see those disapproving eyes again. Normally they were directed at Merle, but now they were directed to him, real or not, it stung being at the end of her contempt. And that only pushed him over the edge. Beth tried to stop him with a call of his name, but now he'd begun there was little that would stop him.

"Never sung out in front of a big group out in public like everythin' was fun. Like everything was a big game. Never got to say goodbye to ma wife. Never got to know if she was alive, dead, turned, murdered. I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention," Beth didn't flinch when he brought up her failed suicide attempt. But when he mentioned (Y/N), that sad look was there again, and the anger in her eyes faded.

Daryl hadn't meant to say it, but he was so furious, so sad, so frustrated, so mad at the world, that it had slipped out, in a rare moment of vulnerability. He sprung the walls back up as soon as he'd let them down.

A crashing at the door and the growling of walkers made his head snap to the door, so fast he swore it should have snapped. And he couldn't stop. The seething, burning feeling was eating him up.

"Oh, sounds like our friend out there is trying to call his buddies," He tripped over the pans and pots and various other shit on the floor, making way too much noise. If he wasn't so angry, he would be cursing himself out now. He was sure he'd do that later.

"Daryl, just shut up," Beth begged through gritted teeth, but Daryl just turned around and pointing, a sharp smile playing on his lips. If Merle were here, he'd tell him he looked just like their Daddy. And he did, as much as he hated it. If his girl were here, she would be screaming at him. by now. She would have stopped him by now. But they were both gone. Just like everyone else.

"Hey, you never shot a crossbow before? I'm gonna teach you right now. Come on," Before he'd fully processed what he was doing, Daryl had grabbed Beth's arm, dragging her to the door and kicking it open. "It's gonna be fun."

"We should stay inside! Daryl, cut it out! Daryl!" She protested, screaming out as she tried to fight out of her grip but he wouldn't let her go.

"Dumbass. Come here, dumbass," Daryl whistled and the walker stumbled over, before he put a bolt in its shoulder, pinning it to the tree behind it. "You wanna shoot?"

"Daryl, I don't know how!" She exclaimed, fighting as Daryl pulled her in front of him, holding her in place with one hand as he got ready to shoot with the other.

"Oh, it's easier. Right corner," A bolt landed in the walker's leg and Beth finally broke free, turning around to face the redneck as he stepped away slightly, so he could pull the string back into place.

"C'mon it's fun," He was being fueled by unbridled rage and adrenaline now. A tiny voice in the back of his mind, that sounded suspiciously like Rick told him he'd regret this later but he pushed it away. Instead, he pulled Beth back into the previous position and shot the walker right where it's dead, rotting heart was.

"Kill it!" Daryl let go again as he stormed ahead to the walker.

"Come here, Greene. Let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice," Beth had decided that was enough, and with an annoyed huff, she sped ahead of Daryl to plant her knife into the walker's forehead "What the hell you do that for? We was having fun."

"No! You were being a jackass! If someone found your wife-" She growled back, and Daryl's glare burned into her but it didn't deter her, even as he got right into her face.

"Don't. That ain't remotely the same," Daryl shot back, rage burning through every vein, every organ, every muscle. But Beth knew she'd gotten to him, even if it was just a little bit.

"Killin' them ain't supposed to be fun!" She said, her own eyebrows coming into a glare and Daryl stepped even closer.

"What do ya want from me, girl?"

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anythin'! Like nothin', we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anythin' to you. It's bullshit!" Beth finally yelled back, frustration making tears build behind her eyes but that only seemed to rile Daryl up more, even if it had been toned down. Didn't give a shit? She really thought he didn't care? He'd damn near died for his people. He'd killed for his people and she thought he didn't give a shit?

"Is that what you think? Huh?" The only thing he could think as he heard himself were the words he'd said to his brother years ago, that was coming back to bite him in the ass. You really are our Daddy's son.

"That's what I know," Her words were instant, and Daryl could tell from her tone that they'd been building up for a while. But his mouth moved before his brain could fully process the thought.

"You don't know nothin'," He hissed, looking away for a second, as his voice wavered slightly.

"I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I'm not Michonne. I'm not Carol. I'm not Maggie. I've survived and you don't get it 'cause I'm not like you or them. But I made it and you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid," Hell, if that didn't make him stop. His chest heaved as she spoke, his body taking a moment to recover from the anger that had made him shake. Been a while since he'd been that pissed off. But those final words, made his eyes narrow again, just as they'd softened.

"I ain't afraid of nothin'," Daryl stated, leaning in again. Beth had a look in her eye, telling him she didn't believe him. And she was right. He was scared every damn day. Every single damn time he thinks he's the most scared he'll ever be, some new herd, some new asshole, some new loss takes its place.

"I remember. When that little girl came out of the barn after my mom. You were like me," Daryl couldn't meet her eyes. He had been like her once. When he left for a hunting trip he never came back from. Then, he got stuck with his piece of shit older brother and became that asshole again. Then his brother was gone, and he had a new family. He wasn't who he had been with (Y/N), didn't know if he ever would be like that again, but it had been a start. Until the governor took that from him too "And now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close."

Every time someone got close, they died. Or put at great risk, or went missing, or got bit.

"Too close, huh? Ya know all about that. Ya lost two boyfriends, ya can't even shed a tear. Yer whole family's gone, all ya can do is just go out lookin' for hooch like some dumb college bitch," It was a low blow, but he was so drunk, so angry, he was struggling to get his words out like they were getting stuck in his throat.

"And your wife is gone and you don't say shit! Your brother died and you closed off! At least I talk about the ones I've lost instead of pretendin' like nothin' happened or like they didn't exist!" She snapped back, and the second the words left her mouth, she looked like she wanted to take them right back. Daryl stopped right there, frozen like a deer in headlights before turning around. Beth tried to reach for him but he shrugged out of her touch.

"Y'ain't got the right," He huffed out, the last of his anger dissipating, and he felt that void opening up again. The one that haunted him anytime he thought about his wife for too long. His shoulders deflated, and his gaze fixed on the back of the shed they'd found. Beth was hovering behind him, he could feel it. "The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking. Maybe 'cause I gave up. That's on me."

"Daryl-" Beth tried again, sympathy lacing her voice but he just shook her off once more. She watched as his shoulders tensed, and she prepared for him to rip into her again but instead, they started shaking lightly. Everything was crashing down on him all at once and he couldn't shake the thought of his girl alone, trying to survive on her own. Or his girl, eyes milky white and lifeless, feet dragging and body acting like dead weight as her pale, rotting skin peeled off.

"And ma girl? Maybe I could've done somethin'. Maybe I could've helped her," His voice cracked, the emotions finally crashing over him in a wave, and this time he didn't stop Beth as she wrapped her arms around his middle, head pressed against his back. He didn't stop the tears or the sobs that escaped him.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking," Beth's voice broke the peaceful silence that had fallen between them. Crickets and the wind brustling the trees were the only sounds as Daryl looked over to her, sat on the porch in the pale moonlight.

"Ya feel sick?" He asked, twirling his knife on the wooden panels beside him, glancing over dark eyelashes.

"Nope. I wish I could feel like this all the time. That's bad," She responded. Her hands were playing with the loose threads on her jeans, and she had this happy look in her eye. Too happy, but he didn't say anything. Not this time.

"Yer lucky yer a happy drunk," Daryl felt that stab of guilt again, as he thought back to the argument earlier. The one he could've dropped, but instead he blew it out of proportion and turned into Merle. Into his daddy.

"Yeah, I'm lucky. Some people can be real jerks when they drink," Beth gave him a pointed look, eyebrows raised slightly, but there was a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, 'm a dick when 'm drunk," He stabbed his knife into the wood and he let out a small huff before reluctantly opening his mouth again "Merle had these biker friends. Real buff, stern assholes. Didn't give a shit 'bout nobody but themselves. One day, he dragged me along with 'em to this back alley bar. Real dodgy place. Was barely 10 and we were all wasted. Merle was high. There was this girl with her friend and the guys wouldn't stop runnin' their mouths. Especially Merle. Never knew when to quit. Turns out, girl had heard everythin' they'd been sayin' 'bout her and her friend. She comes stormin' over, face red, lookin' pissed as all hell and starts gettin' in this guys face. Merle decides it's a good idea to grab her ass, and she goes for him, punches him right in the eye. Gave him one hell of a shiner."

Beth let out a small giggle as she took a sip of her moonshine and Daryl's lips quirked up slightly. His fingers worked to spin his ring around again and again and she watched it with a glimmer of shock that still hadn't faded away.

"I tried gettin' between and she shoved me away. But one of Merle's buddies, he don't like that. So, he pulls out his gun and raises it over ma shoulder to her face, right here," He points to the gap between his eyebrows, watching as Beth's own eyebrows rose "And this bar goes dead silent. C'aint hear a damn thang, but she just glares back. His buddy starts threatenin' her, sayin' how he's gonna do all these things to her and she don't say anythin'. Just looks back at him. All that because she stood up for herself," Daryl couldn't help but smile at the memory, despite how much it had freaked him out at the time. Only time he didn't get pissed at someone for hitting his brother. Fool deserve it.

"How'd she get out?" Beth asked, leaning forward slightly like she was on the edge of her seat.

"Managed to get between 'em. Guy punched me in the gut. I puked. They all started laughin' and started patting her on the back. 'Balls of steel', Merle said to her. She thanked me for gettin' between them and asked how I was. Walked her and her friend back to her car. And I don't know if she was tipsy or what, but she asked ma name. Asked if we could have a new introduction 'nother day or somethin. You want to know what I was before all this? I was just drifting around with Merle... doing whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody. Nothin'. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother. Got better when I met her. (Y/N) made us better," Daryl's eyes flittered down to his ring this time, looking at the grime and dirt that accumulated and pulled it off to wipe it on his shirt.

"You miss him, don't you? I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around. I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoyin' and overprotective. And my dad. I thought- I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby. And he'd get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays and holidays and summer picnics. And he'd get really old. And it'd happen, but it'd be quiet. It'd be okay. He'd be surrounded by people he loved. That's how unbelievably stupid I am," Tears had formed in Beth's eyes, but she laughed through them. But she couldn't shake that image of her Dad, the governor stood behind him.

"That's how it was supposed to be," He grumbled. Beth was naive, but she wasn't blind. She could tell he wasn't talking just about her dad. He was talking about the life he had with his wife, a life he could have had. The life he deserved to have. Subconsciously, she couldn't help but be slightly jealous that she never had something like that.

"I wish I could just... change," Beth responded after a pause, and Daryl's eyebrow raised, slightly confused.

"Ya did."

"Not enough. Not like you. It's like you were made for how things are now. Sounds like ya girl was too."

He didn't say anything, biting his cheek lightly as he slid his ring back on. It was his comfort, she was his comfort. Maybe she was still out there. Maybe.

Maybe she was dead in a ditch.

It still felt like a dream. He was still sure that if he gave himself a hard pinch she'd disappear right from his grasp. Everyone had dispersed thanks to Aaron and Carol's shepherding, but Daryl didn't miss the way (Y/N) watched after Carl and Judith, like she was scared something would happen. She didn't let go of him, not for another few minutes, that felt like seconds to him, and he would never complain. It didn't feel real.

There would be questions later, enough to bombard them back into hiding. He didn't care. Nothing mattered. She was here.

Eventually, Daryl managed to clear his head enough to pull her into the house his family had now evacuated out of. It felt alien, holding her again. Seeing her. Actually seeing her, not imagining her in some drunk or fear-induced frenzy. They were huddled together, in the corner Daryl had taken the night before. He couldn't let go, not now. There was something different about her. She'd changed. The apocalypse did that to you, he supposed but, this was different. There was guilt like she was hiding something from him. She'd done something, and he wanted to find out what it was.

"How the hell'd ya get here?" He asked, voice low and a grin rose on her face, which made his eyebrows furrow in confusion "What?"

"Ain't nothing. Just didn't think I'd hear your voice again," (Y/N) responded, her grin widening when he took her hand and started playing with her ring. "I was with mom when it started. Started travelling down to Georgia to find you and Merle. Met some people along the way."

She suddenly went quiet, her smile falling, and Daryl knew that look. Seen it on everyone's faces after camp; saw it on Carol, Beth, Maggie and Hershel's faces after the barn, Glenn and Maggie after the governor, Beth's after the prison; Rick, Carl and Michonne's the night with the claimers; everyone's after Terminus; Sasha and Gabriel after Bob and Tyreese. His, Maggie's and Glenn's after Beth.

"What happened?" If anyone else had walked in, they'd probably have never believed it was his voice. He didn't believe it. Merle would be giving him hell for it. Her eyes darted to his, and her grip on his hand tightened.

"There were this married couple, Andrew and Oliver, and their kid, Anna. Real sweet, curious. Never wanted to leave me and the other leader Kai alone. Some twins, Danica and Ben. Danica and Andrew were hotheads, reminded me of Merle, just less bigotted," They shared a chuckle at that. Daryl didn't need to say anything to her for her to know her brother-in-law was gone. She'd seen it on his face when she mentioned him earlier. After all this time, she could still read him like a book. "Kai was my best friend. Felt like a sibling. They were military, stopped me and mom from going into the city. We were gonna keep looking for you but Anna got sick. Really sick. For three weeks, we went out looking for medicine and she'd go through it in days."

Hell, he'd almost forgot about the disease that spread through the prison. Nearly killed Glenn. Awful as it seemed, it didn't that important anymore. Pretty much everyone that was sick died to the governor anyway. Didn't matter. Not really

"When she didn't get better, her dad's asked me to put her down. I was going to do it in the evening, in case she passed, but I decided to wait until morning. Died in her sleep. Turned quickly. We lost Andrew and Danica," Daryl squeezed her hand but she didn't respond. Her eyes were unfocused, but he saw the sadness flickering in them. The shame and guilt. That's why she was watching Carl and Judith earlier. "We were in the woods for a while. Me, mom, Andrew, Kai and Ben, lived that old Dixon lifestyle," She teased, in a poor attempt to lighten the mood. But he saw past it. She was holding something back to stop him from worrying.

"Then what?" She just shook her head, and Daryl pulled her in, tucking her head under his chin again. Not yet. He'd wait as long as she needed. They didn't need words for him to understand. (Y/N) let out a small sigh of contentment and Daryl resisted a smile. He'd lost hope in finding her. Thought he'd never get to hold her like this again. And before he knew it, he was telling her everything. But when he got to Terminus, she froze and pulled back.

"You were at Terminus?" (Y/N)'s voice was laced with concern and confusion, and it took Daryl half a second to connect the dots. His eyebrows rose into his hairline, which made (Y/N) laugh slightly."I was there for three days. Fuckers tried to kill me but I put up a fight. That freak Gareth locked me in a room so I didn't 'scare the newcomers'. An explosion and some walker's guts got me out."

"Ya gotta be shittin' me, right?" Daryl laughed, genuinely laughed, and he swore he'd never seen so much elation on his girl's face. "Carol set off that explosion, got us out."

(Y/N) leant her forehead on his shoulder, smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. The whole time, he thought she was so far away, or that she was gone, or dead, or bitten but she was right fucking there at Terminus. If he'd paid more attention, maybe he could've found her. Fucking idiot.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" Daryl asked, catching (Y/N)'s arm as she started to climb out of the sleeping bag they'd been sharing. It'd taken a while for Daryl to convince the group to let her stay with them. They didn't trust her, and he couldn't blame them, but he wasn't going to be separated from any of his family. Neither her nor them. Eventually, Rick had nodded, despite Sasha and Abraham (mostly - Rosita and Carl hadn't exactly been happy about it either).

"Aiden and Nicholas want to take Glenn, Tara and Noah on a dry run, I gotta go with them to make sure they don't do something dumb," (Y/N) replied, pulling on her jumper but Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Careful, (L/N), that's ma family yer talkin' 'bout," He shot back, sharper than he wanted. However, she was taking a dig at his family when she barely knew shit about them. She just chuckled and rolled her eyes, coming closer to press a kiss on his forehead.

"Not your family, dummy. Nicolas and Aiden. They both hate me because I called them careless. Among other things. And they are. They don't know anything about life out there. If these walls hadn't come up when they had, those boys would have died long ago. Almost everyone here would have," She replied. He watched her carefully, giving her a look that she couldn't recognise. He was still getting used to this new version of her. Trying to get to know her again. She wasn't that different, not really, but she was slightly colder towards others and seemed to have a shorter fuse where unbreakable patience used to be. Well, unbreakable unless you were Merle. Some undying rage never left her eyes. She was still her old self, but she'd changed. It made him wonder what she'd been through. What she wouldn't tell him the day before.

"Why'd ya stay if this place ain't secure?" Daryl asked, pulling her slightly closer. Then he saw it. That look flashed across her face. It was gone almost as soon as it came, but he'd caught it. Guilt was ripping through her, despite how much she hid it. Why was she guilty? What was she hiding?

"Why'd you?" (Y/N) responded quickly, and even with this new version of her, he still knew her well enough to know she was changing the topic. And she did too, as evident from her heavy sigh. "I had a promise to keep."

There was more to it than that, Daryl could see it so clearly it was practically slapping him in the face. But he knew pushing wouldn't get them anywhere.

"People here are weak. Carol and the kid think it too. Hell, I do. Glad yer goin' with 'em," He gave her a quick kiss, running his thumb over her ring. "Keep an eye on 'em for me."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled back, and from the surprise on Deanna's face when she walked in to check on them, not that he'd cared enough to notice at first, it wasn't something that had happened often while she was here.

"And you keep yourself safe, ya hear?" Daryl demanded, and while it was firm, (Y/N) saw the glimmer of fear in his eye. Can't lose her again. The words went unspoken but she heard them. A hard squeeze of his hand and a kiss on the cheek, and she'd wandered out the door, Glenn, Tara and Noah trailing close behind.

Time seemed to drag out while they were gone. It'd been around an hour, and he knew it shouldn't be too much longer before they returned. It was only a dry run. He'd finally showered, if only for his girl's sake than anyone else's, and he couldn't stop pacing. Carol had tried to employ his help, but he shut her down. With no news on a job from Deanna, Daryl couldn't stop himself from getting lost in his thoughts and drowning in his worries. His girl had said that the boys were careless. What if that cost her? What if him asking her to protect his friend meant she did something stupid? What if she didn't come back? What if he lost her again? For good, this time?

His worries were cut in half when the creaking and scratching of the gate broke through the air and he immediately jogged from his place on the porch to the gates, seeing the group come back in. They all looked pissed, and none of them more than (Y/N). She was walking in front of Glenn almost protectively, and he just knew something had gone wrong.

"You three need new gigs, you're not ready for runs yet," Aiden snapped from behind, making the four turn on their heels. Daryl felt himself moving forward when Aiden got close to (Y/N) and started pointing "And I'm gonna talk to my mom about getting you a new job."

"Yeah, pretty sure you got that backwards," Glenn shot back and (Y/N) gave him a grateful look. They set off again but were pulled back by Aiden grabbing both her and Glenn's arms.

"Hey, we've got a way of doing things around here," Aiden tried, making a poor attempt of establishing his authority, which deflated when she scoffed.

"Yeah, ones you don't tell me about apparently," She grumbled. There it was. That short fuse. That undying rage. Daryl slowed to a stop as more people started to gather at the noise. She looked over to him, telling him with a glance that he might have to step in if it got too far.

"You tied up walkers," Glenn shot back, and that set Aiden off. Nicolas bounced between each foot awkwardly, like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"It killed our friend!"Aiden shouted "Look, I'm not having this conversation. You obey my orders out there."

"Not when they put our people in danger," (Y/N) stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Aiden, and Daryl smirked slightly. That was his girl.

"If that's the case, we're just as screwed as your last run crew," Glenn agreed, putting a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder to get her to back off. They shared a look, and she reluctantly took a step back. Glenn was trying to keep it peaceful, but he wasn't Aiden get away with this shit. Neither was (Y/N), except Daryl wasn't so sure about the peaceful part. Aiden shifted at Glenn's words, and Nicolas narrowed his eyes. Daryl took a step closer, shooting the latter man a warning glare.

"Say that again," Aiden stated, lightly shoving Glenn's chest. He brushed off the warning words of Noah and Tara, and both Glenn and Daryl could see that (Y/N) was barely holding her rage back. Glenn squeezed her shoulder lightly, clearly seeing it too. She was waiting for the right moment, but she was going to break any second. "C'mon tough guy."

Glenn just stared back at him, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, and the expression pissed Aiden off even more. (Y/N) had to bite back a laugh. "No one's impressed, man. Walk away."

Someone had clearly alerted Deanna to the situation because she came running out, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes slightly at the woman. It was pretty damn clear she didn't like her. However, her expression softened slightly, and some of her anger dissipated when she saw Enid join the newly formed crowd, with Carl not far behind her.

"Aiden, what's going on?" Deanna asked, running over. Daryl saw Rick slowly making his way over with Michonne, and they were both observing too. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut and it felt stifling.

"These two have got a problem with the way we do things. Why did you let these people in? Why didn't you kick her out?" Daryl's eyes furrowed, and his glare settled. This asshole was really trying to get them thrown out? After the shit he'd just heard?

"Because we actually know what we're doing out there," Glenn immediately answered and he barely had time to dodge as Aiden swung for him, while Deanna shouted his name. However, (Y/N) immediately shot into action. The fury she'd been suppressing exploded out all at once, and she didn't hesitate to land a punch ride to Aiden's nose. She'd hit him with enough force to cause his nose to bleed, and Daryl felt a twisted sense of pride in his stomach.

"(Y/N)!" Enid yelled, and (Y/N) looked over to her in panic, scared someone had lunged for her. But while she was distracted, Nicolas had managed to get a hit in on her side, making her fall backwards slightly. Her eyes darkened and she went to attack him, but two arms latched around her waist and yanked her away from the fight. At some point, Aaron had come running towards the commotion and had snuck up behind her. He was trying to talk to her, to calm her down but she only saw red.

However, while the people had been distracted with (Y/N), apparently well-acquainted with her outbursts, no one had thought to stop Daryl. The second, Aiden lunged for Glenn, he was running at them, anger boiling inside of him, but then Nicolas dared to lay a hand on his girl and he felt like that day in the woods with Beth. When he couldn't stop his anger. It just flowed through him, and soon Nicolas had been pinned to the floor with Daryl's arm to his neck. Rick sprinted to them, shouting at him, but Daryl had tuned him out, eyes focusing on the son of a bitch below him. He felt arms yanking him away and he growled something (he couldn't even remember what he was so damn pissed) to, who he assumed was, Rick. Aiden stood up and went to walk towards (Y/N), which made her struggle slightly in Aaron's hold, until Michonne stepped in front, pushing him back.

"Back the fuck up, asshole," (Y/n) shouted, pulling in Aaron's arms, and Michonne narrowed her eyes at Aiden.

"You want to end up on your ass again?"She warned, staring him down until he backed up. After another minute, Rick finally made Daryl let up and Rick pushed him away slightly just for good measure. He was practically vibrating with anger, but he backed away, picking up his crossbow before walking to his girl. Aaron let her go hesitantly, and Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist, both to ground himself and to prevent her from going anywhere. He could feel the heat radiating over, and how pissed off she still was as she and Aiden glared at each other. Deanna stared at her for a minute, a look filled with scorn that nearly set Daryl off again. Aiden had taken the shot first, she couldn't blame his girl for shit.

"I want everyone to hear me, okay? Rick and his people are part of this community now and always as equals. Understood?"She shot a pointed look to her son, who looked away in shame as he wiped his nose, getting blood on the back of his hand. Daryl hid a smirk, despite the anger still stirring in his stomach. "Everyone turn in your weapons. Then you two come talk to me."

Deanna pulled Rick and Michonne to one side, and the pair watched for a second, as Glenn walked off with Maggie. Then, Daryl turned his girl to look at him, inspecting every inch of her to make sure she wasn't badly injured.

"Y'alrigh'?" Daryl questioned softly, placing one hand on her cheeks, which she leant into affectionately. It made his stomach do flips, and he was sure he was blushing but if he was, she didn't say anything. Made him feel like a damn teenager again. She placed her hand over his, touching his ring with a small reassuring smile.

"I'm all good, Dixon. Might have a bruise on my ribs, but I'll live," She replied and Daryl turned to look at Nicolas with a dark look. They were so caught up in themselves that they didn't notice Aaron watching them with a curious look. He was smiling softly. He hadn't been able to get much out of his friend when talking about her husband. She'd let a little slip when she, him and Eric got drunk during her first week, but she'd never told them his name, or anything deep. If she had, maybe he would've been able to reunite them sooner.

Everyone dispersed, with Aiden and Nicolas following Deanna back to her house. (Y/N) watched after them, glaring holes into the back of their heads.

"(Y/N, I know you're pissed off, but you have to quit the fighting. Deanna's going to kick you out if you aren't careful," Aaron warned, folding his arms over his chest, and Daryl's head snapped over furiously. However, (Y/N) turned to him with a face that told him she'd heard this a million times before.

"Fucker went for Glenn first. She just defended him," Daryl murmured and Aaron let out a deep sigh. Guess it wasn't just (Y/N) he had to watch out for now.

The next day, Daryl and (Y/N) had been moved into their own house, and while she was hesitant to leave Eric and Aaron, neither she nor Daryl could deny how nice it was to have their own privacy. It almost felt like life before the apocalypse. Well, besides the fact that this house was worth more than they ever could have afforded before the world went to shit. And they were missing a certain loud-mouthed idiot. Enid also technically lived there, but she was always in and out. One thing both he and his girl knew, was that he was suffocating in here. He hated not being out there. So when she suggested he go hunting, he was out of the door quicker than she could blink. He felt guilty leaving her behind, but she could manage her own, and she had her own jobs to do. Besides, Enid could keep her company. She'd be fine.

The bushes rustling made his crossbow shoot up. Daryl narrowed his eyes, trying to pick out if it was a person, walker or animal, but he quickly realised it was a human and his guard went up tenfold.

"Come out! Now!"He snarled, placing his finger on the trigger as the person began to emerge. Aaron. Son a bitch scared the shit out of him. Not that he'd admit it. He lowered his crossbow with a huff upon seeing the recruiters alarmed face. "Ain't ya supposed to be in Alexandria with Eric?"

"(Y/N)'s watching over him. You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound?" Daryl just grunted in response and Aaron studied him, as he checked the string of the crossbow. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He could see it in the way he acted with (Y/N) alone, and that wasn't even beginning on the rest of his family "Can you tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy? Rick doesn't seem to be an expert at that."

"There ain't much of a difference no more," Daryl snapped back. What was with this guy? Didn't he know when to stop prying? Wasn't none of his business. Aaron didn't miss the way he squinted at him, or how his shoulders squared defensively.

"That how you feel about your people? About (Y/N)?" Aaron questioned. Daryl tensed slightly before continuing forward into the woods.

"Why ya following me?" Daryl snapped. If it had been anyone else, he probably would've been shouting by now. But Aaron was (Y/N)'s friend. He could talk about her like that. He meant no ill will. Others don't get the right. They didn't know her. They just expected the worst because he was some redneck. Expected her to be the same.

She was so much more.

"You ride horses?"Aaron asked, trying to lighten the situation. He'd really hoped he could save that horse. The kids had been asking him for weeks. At least he wasn't suffering anymore.

"I ride bikes," Daryl responded shortly. Aaron was kind, and he could see how his girl was friends with him. Why she trusted him. They'd taken care of her. Seen that pretty clearly yesterday with Aiden and Nicolas and stopping her from killing them. But everything felt too much still. He wasn't used to being somewhere like this. Even before everything. Even with his girl starting to bring him to the right path. Everything was just overwhelming. He knew Aaron was trying to help, to get to know him, but whether that was out of kindness or to stay on the good side of his girl, he still hadn't figured it out.

"I take it you don't mean 10-speeds," When Daryl didn't say anything, Aaron let out a small sigh. "I know you're feeling like an outsider. (Y/N) does too, even if she tries to deny it. It's not your fault, you know. Eric and I, we're still looked at as outsiders in a lot of ways. We've heard our fair share of well-meaning, but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice men and women. And you should hear how they talk about (Y/N) sometimes. People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear shrinks the brain. They're scared of you and me for different reasons. They're less scared of me because they know me. It's less and less every day. So let them get to know you. You should go to Deanna's party tonight."

By that point, they'd both stopped. Daryl looked back at Aaron with disbelieving eyes. Like hell was he going to some dumb as shit party. People'd stare, whisper, ask questions. They did little else when he was around, normally.

" I got nothing to prove. I met a lot of bad people out here doing a lot of bad shit. They weren't afraid of nothin'," His eyes flashed back to Terminus. Glenn's terrified eyes. The rage in Rick's eyes. Carl's trembling in the storage container. His girl, who'd been so damn close that if he'd stopped for a second, he would have found her.

"Yeah, they were," Aaron replied, smiling at him slightly before walking past him.

"Yer goin'?" Daryl raised his eyebrows, and (Y/N) turned to smile at him. She didn't look herself. Actually no, she looked exactly like herself. But the old her. This wasn't the new, hardened, mildly terrifying new (Y/N). It felt alien. Almost wrong. But hell if she didn't look good, even if she was dressed up for a dumb ass party.

"I want to get to know your family. Besides, I need to prove a point to Deanna and her shithead sons. You sure you won't come?" She trailed over to him and admired him in the last rays of the sunset. He didn't want her to go. Didn't want her near Aiden, Nicolas or Deanna's other son, who he had the pleasure of not yet meeting. He'd only just gotten her back, and everyone wanted a piece of her. It was starting to piss him off.

Daryl just shook his head, moving some stray pieces of hair out of his eyes at the same time. "Naw. Maybe later."

(Y/N) nodded, before taking his hand, using the other to reach up and play with the ends of his hair. He squeezed her hand, a silent demand of her to stay.

"Never thought I'd see you with long hair, Dixon," She said absentmindedly and he snorted quietly. Sometimes it slipped his mind that the last time she'd seen him, he'd looked almost completely different.

"Watch yourself, (L/N)," He shot back, but there was no venom. Just a tender look in his eyes that was reserved for only her. She let out a quiet laugh and brought their joint hands up to kiss the back of his hand before letting go. Merle was right, the asshole. She did make him soft.

He watched the party from a distance, glancing through the window. Trying to get a look, trying to find the courage to go in. His girl or not, the idea of going in there made his skin crawl. Daryl wasn't a people person, it was pretty damn clear. He wished she'd stayed at home with him, but it did make his heart ache slightly knowing she was only going to try and connect with his family. She didn't get pissy about the fact he called them family, didn't judge, didn't expect them to trust her just because they were married. Just tried to connect with them

He let out a heavy sigh, cursing under his breath and turned around, beginning to head back home. Hell, he'd started calling it home now. Maybe it was being with her again, made him feel at home. Maybe he was getting used to this place. Not damn likely. As he was walking past Aaron and Eric's house, (Y/N)'s old home, the light on the porch switched on, and Aaron walked outside

"Daryl. Hey," Aaron greeted, and Daryl resisted a sigh. Sure, he was nice but it was becoming clearer and clearer that this was about him trying to get to know him for (Y/N). But thinking about it, that was exactly what his girl was doing with his family. Goddamn it.

"Thought you were going to that party over there," Daryl responded, leaning against the fence.

"Oh, I was never going to go 'cause of Eric's ankle, thank God," Aaron smiled, looking relieved and Daryl furrowed his eyebrows

"Why the hell did you tell me to go, then?"He snapped, feeling a little guilty by the outburst until he saw the amused (but oddly proud?) look the other man was giving him.

"I said try. You did. It's a thought that counts thing," How long had this guy spent with (Y/N)? Starting to sound just like her.

"All right," Daryl mumbled, pushing off from the fence to walk away until Aaron's voice stopped him again.

"Hey, come in. Have some dinner. Come on, man. It's some pretty serious spaghetti," Aaron offered. Daryl turned to face him, sure he'd see a teasing look on his face. Expecting it to be a joke. But there was a hopeful look on Aaron's face along with a small grin. Yeah, he was starting to see why (Y/N) liked him so much. He hesitated, biting his lip nervously for a second, before walking back to the house. Aaron's grin widened, but Daryl pretended like he hadn't seen anything.

Apart from a greeting from Eric, the three men mostly sat in silence, digging into the spaghetti. Daryl knew he should probably be more aware of how he was eating, he was slurping and he probably looked like a pig (if (Y/N) was there she'd be giving him hell for it), but he'd stopped caring. And while Aaron and Eric shared an occasional muffled laugh, they didn't seem too bothered. Daryl couldn't help but notice the empty two settings on the remaining chairs, and apparently, Eric had followed his gaze.

"We're still getting used to (Y/N) being gone. Enid too. She didn't live with us, but she stayed here a lot because of (Y/N). Guess we still haven't gotten out of the habit of setting their seats," Eric joked lightly, and Daryl made a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Mmm, when you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs Neudermyer is really looking for a pasta maker. And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it. I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something," Eric seemed oblivious to the pointed looks Aaron was giving him, and the confused one that Daryl seemed to have etched onto his face. Eric was more bubbly than Aaron, more talkative, but still sweet. He didn't expect responses from Daryl, happy to just talk away. Maybe (Y/N)'s friends weren't too bad " I really think she just wants something to talk about, so... if you see one out on your travels, it would go a long way to..."

Finally, Eric looked over to his husband, seeing him shaking his head and his words died on his tongue. Looking awkwardly between Daryl and Aaron before settling on his pasta, a small apologetic smile on his face

"I thought it was done. You didn't ask him already?" As if she'd heard Eric's silent plea to be rescued from the mild embarrassment of the situation, the sound of the door opening made Aaron and Daryl shoot up until they heard (Y/N)'s voice following.

"Aaron? Eric? You home?" She called, sounding tired, and Aaron let out a relieved sigh, before calling her into their dining room. Daryl couldn't help but smile as she walked in. It still felt like she wasn't real. Like she'd disappear any day and he'd wake up in that barn, or on the road, starving and dehydrated. She grinned back at him, but she didn't miss the teasing wink Eric gave her. "Hey, Dixon. What're you doing here?"

"We invited him for the infamous killer spaghetti," Eric grinned at her, nudging her hip with his shoulder as she walked to stand between his seat and Daryl. Instinctively, Daryl took her hand, and she bit back a child-like grin. Aaron gave her a look, one he couldn't recognise but she clearly did as she glared back at him playfully.

"You told him yet?" She asked, turning slightly to look at Aaron properly, nodding her head towards Daryl slightly. Daryl's confusion only furthered. Why did everyone seem to know what was going on except him? Hell, he was willing to bet if Enid was here too then she'd probably know.

"Was just about to, but someone nearly let the cat out of the bag," Eric looked away guiltily, but it was obvious he was forcing back a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Daryl finally spoke up, and he didn't miss the way her hand tightened around his. Her grin turned slightly mischievous as Aaron started leading them towards their garage. Aaron opened the door and (Y/N) squeezed Daryl's hand again (and if she saw his cheeks starting to go pink, she didn't say anything) while her friend flicked the light on.

The garage was stuffed with spare parts and something that looked suspiciously like a motorbike beneath a piece of huge sheet. (Y/N) let go of his hand, opting instead to lean in the doorway, smiling softly at the excitement that flickered in her husband's eyes, even if his face stayed stoic. It'd been so damn long since he'd seen something like this, and while it reminded him a little too much of Merle's biker buddies, this also felt like home. He felt like a kid in a candy store. Aaron and (Y/N) shared a knowing look behind Daryl's back

"When I got the place, there was that frame and some parts and equipment. Whoever lived here built them," Aaron explained, as Daryl started picking up pieces, admiring them and putting them down again.

"It's a lot of parts for one bike," Daryl stated, trying to hide how happy he was, and he could practically hear (Y/N) rolling her eyes

"Whenever I came across any parts out there, I brought them back. I didn't know what I'd need. (Y/N) tried to figure it out, but it wasn't her area of expertise," There was a teasing tone in his voice at the last sentence and Daryl heard his girl mumble something along the lines of 'shut up. "I always thought I'd learn how to do it, but I get the feeling you already know what to do with it. And the thing is, you're going to need a bike."

"Why?"Daryl pulled back the sheet and saw the skeleton of a bike, with a box of tools next to it.

"I told Deanna not to give you a job because I think I have one for you. I'd like you to be Alexandria's other recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore," Aaron replied. Daryl understood that, probably better than most people in this community. (Y/N) let out a hum of agreement, and Daryl looked over as she turned to glance back into the house. She was protective of her loved ones. Always had been, and he was really starting to realise just how much Aaron and Eric meant to her.

"You want me risking mine, right?"Daryl questioned, sounding sharper than he wanted, but Aaron could tell he meant no harm by it.

"Yeah, because you know what you're doing. You're good out there. But you don't belong out there. I know it's hard getting used to people getting used to you. And I understand right now you need to be out there sometimes. So do I. But the main reason why I want you to help me recruit is because you do know the difference between a good person and a bad person, "Hell, he really had spent too much time with his girl. Daryl bit his lip in thought, but he already knew his mind was made up. Being in here all the time was killing him. Even with his girl here, he knew he couldn't stay here for long without getting antsy.

"I got nothing else to do. Thanks. I'll get you some rabbits," Aaron let out a loud laugh at that, patting Daryl's shoulder as he stepped past him, back to his girl in the doorway. She was smiling, asking him silently how he was feeling. He just gave her a tiny smile, and clearly, that was enough for her, as she wrapped her arm around his side.

Daryl couldn't help but notice how close (Y/N) had suddenly gotten with Glenn, Rick, Tara and Maggie. He noticed the way the rest of his family seemed a little more at ease with her, not exactly trusting her yet, but clearly getting on that track. Carl still wasn't sure about her, but Daryl didn't miss how he'd come and actually started conversations with her a few times, instead of avoiding her completely. Part of him was suspicious that it had something to do with his obvious crush on Enid. And while it made his heart warm that she was starting to become integrated with his family, there was always someone whisking her away now. He just wanted to spend some damn time with his wife, but he had to go out with Aaron, and she was going on another run.

And every damn thing that could have gone wrong absolutely did. It'd been a god damn trap, and now he was trapped in a car, surrounded by fuck knows how many walkers with his wife best friend. And the walkers just kept coming, pouring out of the trucks, banging on the window. How fucking long until that glass shattered and they were made into walker meat? But despite the hell going on around him, he couldn't stop a chuckle escaping his lips. It was fucking ironic. Aaron gave him a bewildered look.

"I came out here to not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this feels more like me than back in them houses. That's pretty messed up, huh?" Daryl explained, looking over at Aaron, who still had that look, but had a small, almost sad, smile on his lips.

"You were trying," Aaron said, and Daryl shook his head lightly. Wasn't exactly a choice. There were the kids, his friends, his family. Then (Y/N) got added into the mix, and that was it.

"I had to," He shot back, eyes watching the walkers that were gnashing their teeth outside the window.

"No, you didn't. Listen, I saw you with your group out there on the road. Then you went off on your own to the barn. Storm hit and you lead your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring you people back," Aaron had this gentle look, and he went quiet, thinking for a second. When he spoke again his voice was thick "You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in the poncho. I shouldn't have given up. You didn't."

Daryl went silent, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. He'd given up. On his girl. Given up on her, lost hope started thinking she was dead. And look at what happened.

"I didn't, because I gave up before," It didn't take a genius to figure out what, or rather who he was talking about "Hadn't seen her in two years. Thought she was dead. Found 'er. Ain't givin' up this time. I'll go. I'll lead 'em out. You make a break for the fence."

God, she was going to kill him for this.

Aaron's head snapped over, the beginning of tears in his eyes quickly disappearing as he processed Daryl's words. "No, no, no. This was my fault."

"Wasn't a question. And this ain't yer decision. It ain't nobody's fault. Just let me finish my smoke first. Promise you'll look after ma girl, 'right?" Daryl brought the cigarette back to his lips, taking a draw. He ignored Aaron' stare, his leg bouncing lightly. This'd destroy her. But, she had people to look after. And people would look after her for him. His family would be there, Aaron, Eric, Enid. She'd forget about him after a while.

"No," Aaron said sternly, and Daryl was almost taken back by the tone. Never heard him talk like that. "You don't draw them away. We fight. We go for the fence. We do it together, alright? Whether we make it or not. We do it together. We have to."

Daryl fell back into that silence, biting his lip in thought. (Y/N) would probably never forgive him if he let Aaron die. But she'd never forgive Aaron if he did. Fuck. Shit.

"Alright. You ready?" Daryl took one last drag before extinguishing the cigarette and picking up his knife instead. Hell, he couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. Sorry (L/N) "We'll go on three. One, two-"

But three never came as one of the walkers outside's guts spilt on Aaron's window, making them both freeze and exchange a puzzled look. There was no gunshot. The dead didn't kill their own. His door was suddenly yanked open, making Aaron scuttle back and lean on Daryl slightly, before he saw a guy standing there, holding a badass staff. He climbed out, followed immediately by Daryl. Everything was a blur of guts, blood and aching muscles until they got back to the gate and closed it. He was pretty sure he was just running on adrenaline at this point

"Hey, Daryl?" Aaron said breathlessly and Daryl looked over to see him smiling "Take care of her your damn self."

They got back just in time to see all hell had broken loose. The sound of shouting and screaming greeted them as Spencer let them through the gate, and Aaron had gone sprinting ahead, followed soon by Daryl and Morgan. Daryl's heart was pounding, worried (Y/N) was in the middle of it. Shit, shit, shit, shit. (Y/N) and Abraham were holding Pete down as he squirmed and glared up at them. And there on the floor, Deanna was crying, begging while she pressed against the slice on Reg's neck. Alexandrian's watched in terror, and horror as he choked on his own blood, and Daryl didn't miss the look in (Y/N)'s eyes, beneath all the fear and rage. A look he knew too well. She was reliving something. He only wished he knew what. It was then Daryl noticed Michonne's bloody katana on the floor, where Michonne herself looked at it with disgust. Rick was stood beside Abraham and (Y/N), watching Deanna with pity, but waiting for her instruction as Reg ultimately stopped moving. The air was silent, still, and he could see Aaron bouncing slightly from foot to foot, desperate to check up on his husband as Morgan watched with disdain.

One bullet, and it was done, blood splattered on (Y/N) and Abraham's faces. But she didn't even flinch. Just stared blankly. When they got back to their house, Enid, who'd allegedly been told to stay in the house but snuck out (in Enid like fashion) was wrapped under (Y/N)'s arm. She looked scared still, and Daryl had tried to comfort her, even if it hadn't been much, until (Y/N) had been relieved from the situation and took over. She was like a mini carbon copy of his girl, with the addition of teen angst, but she was easy to talk to (even when she was traumatised). His girl still had that blank look, had it since Rick pulled that trigger, and somehow that scared him more. She ushered Enid to her room, and Daryl knew she would either leave within a few minutes, or she wouldn't move until morning. But Enid didn't protest, just gave (Y/N) a quick hug and rushed upstairs.

His girl was still silent, as they reached their room, as they started changing into their pyjamas, as she went off to brush her teeth and wash the blood off her face, as they climbed into bed. It wasn't until Daryl reached out to touch her and she flinched back, did he attempt to break the silence.

"(Y/N)," He mumbled, and she raised her eyebrows to show she was listening but didn't meet his eyes. His stomach was in a knot, worry, nerves and interest as he watched her. "Hey, look at me."

It took her a minute, but reluctantly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his and he saw it. Guilt, anxiety and trauma all wrapped in one.

"Talk to me," Was all he said, and that was all it took. It was spilling out of her before she could stop it, and her hand found him desperately.

"After Anna, Ben, Andrew, Kai, Mom and I were chased out. Moved camp every day. Didn't know where we were going, just kept moving. One night, we were distracted. Ben was talking about smoke or something, and Kai started sayin' how we should go towards Washington. Said it was one of the few places that might have civilisation. We let out guard down," (Y/N) hesitated again, and Daryl squeezed her hand tightly, prompting her to continue. Every word she spoke, the sadder her eyes grew. The guilt kept building and building, and Daryl felt his own pit of dread in his stomach. She was in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. "Some assholes come out of the woods, demand our supplies. I said no and they... they shot Kai. Then Ben and Andrew. Started going through our stuff, held me back as they murdered my family. Then they grabbed mom and-"

Daryl didn't hesitate in pulling her in when her voice hitched and she stopped again. He held her so tight, he was almost certain it was hurting, but she didn't voice any complaints. She just curled into him before continuing.

"Those bastards slit her throat. I had to put her down when she turned. Left me in the middle of the woods. When Reg... I just saw mom. It was like I was back there, reliving again and again on repeat. And I can't help but think that if I'd stepped forward, maybe Reg would be alive," She whispered, fingers clutching onto the sleep shirt he wore. He shook his head, placing a kiss on her hair.

"And you'd be dead. Ain't yer fault. None of it. Not yer ma and yer family. Not Reg. Weren't nothin' you coulda done. Ya cain't blame yerself for it," Daryl said, and while his tone was gentle, the words were firm but they seemed to do nothing to ease her, she just held on tighter. "I know that ain't everythin'. What happened?"

"We lost Noah. He was right there. We had him, and then he was just gone. Glenn and I, we held onto him so hard, but the walkers they- they got him. Pushed him against the glass. We had to watch-" It was then Daryl felt her pull back and she adjusted so her arms were wrapped around him, tucked under his chin again when he pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," He didn't know what else to say. Noah was gone. That kid was something else, annoying sometimes, sure, but he brought this hopeful light to the group, even when they were damn near dying on the road. He found his brain starting to ache and a weird feeling in his chest. Daryl was well acquainted with loss, everyone was now, but it never got any easier. Not when the losses kept coming, and to the people who deserved them the least. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must have been to watch. What it was like for her. He didn't want to. The thought alone was enough to give him nightmares. So he just held her tightly, even as he felt a wet patch seeping through his sleep shirt. Even as she shook. Even as she drifted off, exhausted and hurting, and he laid awake for hours after. He couldn't make it okay, even if he wanted to. And hell he really did. He couldn't bring Noah back, couldn't wipe the memory from her or Glenn's mind.

The only thing he could do was be there for her, comfort her, help her out of that place whenever she went there. However, the only thing he could do, right at that moment, was hold her and not let go.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace @reichelhache

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Family Drama.”

I did not sleep in today, and have written you a story.

Warning: there are a few mentions of drugs and addiction, but not a ton

He had never felt so defeated.

As the Taxi door opened, and he stepped out onto the quiet residential street he had to hold back his shame and kept his head high. What would his family think? Should he even tell them? Well of course he should, that wasn’t an option anymore. If he wanted to make them proud he was going to have to make himself ashamed for a little while.

Waffles whimpered at his heels.

He looked down at her with a small smile, “Alright, alright, you’re right, I’ll shut up.”

He rubbed her ears and walked up the concrete stepping forward onto the grass as a group of kids whirred past on hover-skates. They turned upon seeing them, voices suddenly raised pointing and waving at him as they rolled past.

He raised a hand to wave back, but quickly turned to the front door.

There was no way he was ready to interact with people that weren’t his close family.

He walked up the step and held out his implant to the door, it would open when it knew it was him.

The lock clicked, and he reached forward ready to finally relax and let off some steam.

The door clicked open, and he was immediately assaulted by a wave of sound.

“ADDIE!” He was grabbed around the shoulders and pulled into a massive crushing hug. It took his brain way longer than it should have to figure out what was one person, but then again, there was only one person he knew who called him Addie…. Like a fucking dog.

“Uncle Ben?” he grunted

The man set him down on the floor and slapped his back. Below him Waffle growled nervously, but she was ignored, “It's been YEARS. We had no idea you were coming.”

The sound of kids screaming reached his ears and a t least five of them came rushing into the hallway.

“Hey that’s not fair, I wanted to be a pony too!”

“But I was one first, you can pick something else.”

Uncle Ben turned, “Hey everyone! Guess whose back!” His legs swiveled uselessly under himself as he was dragged through the hallway and into the living room, where the entire extended family seemed to be crammed.

He blinked as the group turned into an uproar upon seeing him.

“What is that on his face?”

“Did you really lose a leg?”

“It’s been so long?”

Aunt Marry got up, “Lost all your baby fat finally.” He winced as she grabbed him and pinched his cheek, which wasn’t really for pinching anymore, or honestly had never been, but when he had more of a baby face she had always done that.

“Tell us about space!”

He was shoved onto the couch with Jeremy on one side and Grandma Vir on the other.

Jeremy gave him a look.

He grimaced back as Waffles crawled under his feet resting her head on Jeremy’s shoe.

“Where is dad?” he muttered to Jeremy, and his older brother leaned in to whisper, “where do you think. Hiding in the garage while mom entertains.”

“Coward.” Adam replied with some amusement.

That was just like their dad to avoid all extended family, even his own.

“Wait, wait, everyone calm down, our little Addie is Commander of the UNSC. You all remember when he was just a little guy who used to believe in flying saucers.”

Adam crossed his arms over his chest. Uncle Ben had always made fun of him as a kid.

His grandma looked at him from across the room, “What is that on your face?” She repeated.

He sighed, “An eyepatch grandma.”

“Why are you wearing an eyepatch.”

“Because I lost my eye.” He sighed.

She put a hand to her chest just as his mother came walking into the room, a Trey in one hand an apron tied around her waist and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked more than a little frazzled.

“Martha, why didn’t you tell us he lost an eye!” She sighed, “Because I didn’t want to worry you mom.”

“How is the army still allowing you to command a ship with a missing eye?” Uncle Andy wondered

“He flipped up the eyepatch and the mechanical tech hopped to life nearly freaking out as it tried to track all the faces in one place all at once.

Gasps, “IS that a mechanical eye!”

“Yes.”

His other grandma put a hand over her face, “and he used to have such pretty green eyes. Now look at them, he looks like one of those cyborgs! Did you know some of those people intentionally cut off their limbs to look more like that.”

Martha sighed, “That’s not how it works mom.”

His Mother’s sister waved at him from across the room. He smiled back, he had always liked her, “I love your eyepatch, it looks cool.”

Her husband grinned, “Space pirate.” he nodded sagely.”

Adam tilted his head across the room where he found David and Jordan squished against one wall sitting on the floor Jordan mostly sitting in David’s lap as they tried not to take up any space.

His brother grimaced at him, he grimaced back.

His mother's father leaned forward his steel grey hair and serious face set, “So tell me Adam, what are exactly your duties in the UNSC.”

The entire family rolled their eyes at once, some not even discreetly. He only got involved in conversation if he considered it “useful” and that meant all of the thing other people didn’t want to talk about, money, religion, politics, family history……

“Er, well Uh.”

“After commanding an entire fleet of ships you would think he’d be better at public speaking.” Uncle Trevor announced from where he was hidden behind the piano.

Adam frowned and cleared his throat, “I am fleet commander of fifteen UNSC deep space vessels for both exploration and military combat, but my primary directive is to foster good will with alien races , and save others from destruction, subjugation and slavery while expanding our knowledge of the universe through prolongued deep-space exploration.”

“Ohhhh his directive!” The rest of the family oooooed as well, but it was mostly sarcastic in nature.

His niece, Kimver walked into the room and crawled up to sit with him and Jeremy leaning against both of their arms as she played on her handheld. Kimber’s new obsession seemed to have shifted into vintage gaming. Glancing over her shoulder he could see her throwing tiny white and red balls and strange looking animals and a very pixelated screen.

“Have you met any sexy alien ladies.” Ben butted in

The rest of the family raised their eyes to the sky. Grandma looked almost offended.

“Ben would you stop with that.” His wife muttered from where she sat on a chair in the corner.

“What the whole LFIL thing is legal now, so he totally could have met some sexy alien babes.:

“It’s not a joke Ben, those people had a rough time of it the past few years.” David piped up from the other side of the room.

“Why the GA decided to legalize that behavior is a mystery to me. The world really is getting more wicked.” Grandpa muttered,

Adam clenched his fists, “Actually, Grandpa, I convinced them to lift the ban.”

The room went very quiet very suddenly.

Adam wished he had just shut his mouth.

“You what!”

“Look I spent a lot of time around LFIL members when I was securing the GA hall from protestors. I met a lot of them, and they are just good people who want to be left alone to do what they want. So yes, because of my position I was able to walk into the GA council chambers and convinced them to lift the ban.”

They stared at him.

“But what they are doing is wrong, it’s like bestiality.”

He felt his fists clench, “Grandpa if you ever met an alien you wouldn’t say that. They are sentient being that can consent, and if they can do that than it isn’t bestiality, and also stop calling my friends animals. My ship is staffed by some of the best alien crewmembers I know, and I wont have you comparing them to cattle or dogs or whatever else you want.”

The room went quiet.

Grandpa stepped out in a huff.

HE sighed and leaned his head back against the wall with an audible thud.

His mother walked over and handed him a stack of cookies with a smile on her face that said: Sorry about that.

He took the cookies greatfully shoving one completly into his mouth to avoid saying something else stupid.

“So, does this mean you DID find a sexy alien girl.” Ben wondered and was immediately elbowed in the ribs from two sides producing a grunt of surprise.

“So Jeremy, how long have you two been dating.” Adam looked over Jeremy’s bulk towards where a petite red haired woman with grey eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her face was squished into the other side of the couch.”

Sensing him looking, she waved a hand with a bright smile, and he waved back.

“Almost a year now.” Jeremy beamed putting his arm around her.

“Should we be expecting an announcement from you two soon?’

Everyone groaned, “Grandma!”

Jeremy’s girlfriend took it like a champ and continued to smile unaffected.

“Speaking of relationships.”

Dear god please descend from heaven and rapture him straight to hell, not that, that's how it worked but anywhere but here would have been great

“Adam, when are you finally going to settle down, how old are you now 25?”

He wondered if he prayed to satan hard enough he could summon a demon to swallow his soul whole.

“I know have you ever even dated anyone”

“Kissed anyone?” “Kissing is fun, you should definitely try it sometime.”

“You're grandmother definitely needs more grandkids.”

Oh the irony, the thought bitterly to himself.

At his feet the dog whimpered.

“You know there is this really pretty girl who works down at the corner store, I think she might do really good for you, a very down to earth girl. You could get promoted into a better paying desk job at the UNSC work 9-5 it would be a dream.”

Jeremy placed a hand on his shoulder, “Actually, Adam is more of an action guy, right Adam/”

Adam gave a weak smile, “Yeah.”

“Oh, he’ll grow out of that, besides you wouldn’t want to put a family under that kind of stress. It’s like you’re never home.”

“Space is my home.” He grumbled

“Don’t be silly, humans weren’t meant for that sort of thing, besides your obsession was cute as a kid, but now that you’re older, you really need to start thinking about the future and having kids before you’re too old.”

He wanted to scream and bash his head against the wall.

“You know what though, how about that cute younger guy that works at the DMV, he looks about your age Adam.”

“I’m not interested in having a family right now!”

The room looked at him quietly, “You asexual or something?” Uncle Ben piped up awkwardly.

Adam felt his face go red, what kind of question was that? No, no uncle Ben I am not horny, or yes, yes uncle Ben I would love to find some hot person to plow just not right now.

And in front of the entire family?

Because he really wanted to have an extended discussion about his sex life with his entire extended family.

Waffles whimpered at his feet.

And then like an angel she descended from the sky to save him, either that or a billowing superhero cape like the saint she was. He couldn’t decide, angel or superhero, but decided on both.

Supermom, and part of her costume is angel wings and a halo.

“Adam why don’t you take waffles outside, she sounds a little nervous. Maybe take her out through the garage?”

He nodded and bolted to his feet like there were rockets firing from his ass, and hurried towards the door with the dog trailing at his heels.

Voices faded behind him, and he quickly hurried through the door and into the garage, where he found his dad sitting with Thomas on a set of lawn chairs drinking cold sodas and watching the clouds pass overhead.

They turned as they heard the door open.

“Adam! We didn’t know you were coming, pull up a chair.”

He did so and unfolded it between the other two men sitting down as Thomas handed him a drink.

“They drive you off too?” Thomas grumbled

Adam looked at his brother. Thomas was looking a little better than usual. His hair was only a little bit scruffy and his scraggly beard was at least trimmed. The tract marks in his arms had faded to pale scars on his arms.

“Yeah, uncle Ben asked about my love life in front of god and all his creatures. You?”

“Rehab. “

“I thought you were out of rehab.”

“I am, which is why I would rather not talk about it.”

“You doing good?”

“Yeah, got a stable job now, so that’s nice, go to meetings twice a week. One more month and I'll be six months sober.”

“Awesome, congrats.” He paused, “You know what, bet I could get you a job as a stuntman if you wanted.”

Thomas laughed, “Maybe I'll take you up on that. Once this job bores me to tears, which it will.”

“Did grandpa bring up LFIL.” Dad asked turning to look up at him

“You know he did.”

“He’s been meaning to ask you. He’s worried that spending so much time up in space has confused you.”

Adam snorted, “Don’t stargaze to long dad, the stars will make you extrial.”

“So that’s what dark matter is.” Thomas muttered and the three of them laughed. Waffles had climbed up on the chair with him and curled up on his legs to fall asleep.

“So what are you doing back here?” Dad wondered, “I thought you had just taken time off.”

He sighed, “Yeah… but things got complicated….” He paused, “Ever feel like no matter what you try to do you keep failing at it.”

Thomas raised a hand “You mean my life.”

More laughter.

Then he got serious again, “Been so stressed lately that I can barely function as a person, has the UNSC questioning whether they should ground me or not. My friends set up an intervention, and it turns out that I am a raging control freak.”

“Could have told you that.”

“You got that from your mother.”

He glanced over at thomas, “What do you mean, could have guessed that?”

He shrugged, “Come on Adam, did you ever do anything you weren't sure you could do properly. Like riding a bike, or swimming, or how you threw a fit if we moved literally anything in your room, or how you had to have everything arranged on your plate before you ate it, or….”

“Yeah yeah ok. But I’m a fighter pilot, that's kind of not-”

“Yeah that is the most control freak job ever. You have to be in so much control that traveling at more than three times the speed of sound won’t kill you. Imagine the amount of control you need to fly in formation without killing everyone.”

“Alright I get it.” He grumbled.

“So what, you try to do everything yourself?” dad grunted

He turned to look at the older man, “how did you know?”

“Every school project you ever worked on in a group, but you just ended up doing the entire thing.”

“I thought that’s just because the other kids were lazy and weren’t going to do their jobs.”

“Or because you wouldn’t let them and they just gave up on trying.” Dad responded

Adam sighed and sunk back against his chair, “I had no idea.”

“Welcome to personal growth, how may we kick you in the balls.”

He sighed, ‘I just, how can I be a leader without losing my identity and becoming boring and stuffy. How can I still… I don’t know, be happy and have fun when I have a job like this…. Or am I just not meant for it.”

Dad waved a hand, “You were born for it, but you need to remember that while, most of the time, you can be friends with the people you work with sometimes you need to stop being their friend and be their commander, which entails doing some things that aren’t so friendly. At the end of the day it is a ship, so you have to make them and allow them to do their jobs, fun comes later.”

“How am I supposed to reduce the stress?”

He glanced at thomas who shook his head, “If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be a recovering heroin addict.”

“You just have to find something you love doing, and then take a little time every day to do that thing which you love. Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

He sighed and looked out at the deepening sky.

He really hoped so

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 5, Bloody Demons I

Disclaimer: I posted this story a few days ago, hating it, and regretting it the minute it was up. I re-wrote it, and hope you’ll like it.

The road so far…

Waitress. School teacher. Bartender. Hunter. Lulu has come a long way since she first met the Winchesters, including the father, John. Having left behind the occult for a life of peace, she was ripped out of it, when – once again – the Winchesters came in to her life. Realizing she is in the life now – for good – she also made a decision for herself. To live that life without the only man she has ever truly cared for. Both to keep him and his brother safe from leviathans, angels and demons; but also, because she doesn’t trust that her feelings for Dean are true – and not part of some higher plan set up by celestial powers.

Our story continues in season 8

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added) @edonaspanca @wonderlandfandomkingdom

You’d be surprised how much info you can get in a library. This statement might seem ridiculous, because – of course – a library holds all the knowledge in the world. But there’s more than what you can find in books. There’s peoplewatching.

If you look at what people check out, you’ll learn a lot about them. That middle aged woman checking out a book on auto repairs – her car broke down, and he husband usually takes care of those kinds of things; but now he’s left her for a younger woman. The teenage boy with the masses of comic books in his arms – odds are there is at least one My Little Pony comic among them, that he’s too embarrassed to buy at a store; so he goes to the library to get it, hiding it among comics about big breasted women and superheroes. The woman sitting alone at a table with a massive paper cup of black coffee; surrounded by books on local history and papers and notes on the occult – if you came into the library on that specific day; that was me. And I was hunting a ghost.

I’d spent more than a year salting and burning my way across the states; avoiding any real fights, and sticking to the easier and more obvious cases, where all I needed was to open a grave, and take care of the bones. Managing to convince my ex, Pete – who was still reeling from the traumatic temporary memory loss he’d suffered, after being kidnapped by leviathans – to send my belongings to my friends in San Francisco; I was now free to disappear for good. No strings attached; save for the occasional call to Raul – letting him know I was alive, and still serving beer in Alaska. In reality, I was in Hartford, near Sioux Falls, South Dakota; having just picked up a box of old papers stood in the basement of a good acquaintance.

“How was your visit with the good sheriff?”, a female voice asked me. I jumped in my seat; having been deeply invested in a piece of paper scribbled over with rantings of what seemed like a madman – who’s every tenth word was balls. “Jesus Christ, Tamara”, I hissed. “You scared the crap out of me!”. My friend sat down across from me, and took the paper from my hand. “Bobby Singer… I still can’t believe what happened to him”, Tamara said sadly.

I rested my elbow on the table, and took a sip from my coffee. “When did you last see him?”, I asked. Tamara’s face was ghosted with sadness, before she met my eyes. “Years ago. Back when Isaac…”. She didn’t finish the sentence. “You never told me what happened to him”, I said. “I mean, you don’t have to…”. She smiled slightly. “It’s all right”, she said. “Demons. We were working on taking out a whole group of them, when… he didn’t make it”. She sighed. “Bobby was there; along with some younger lads… Sam and Dean Winchester. Heard of them?”.

It had been a long time since I’d heard those names. Even Jody didn’t mention them to me, when I checked in with her – as she’d insisted I do weekly, after that one time I called her from the ER, telling her about a tulpa in Minnesota; that I needed her to have the brothers check out. I’d had no idea what to do with it; and had ended up with a nasty gash down my ribs. She’d told me she hadn’t been in touch with them for months, and didn’t know how to reach them at the moment. I’d thanked her, but when she heard the sadness in my voice, she’d insisted on picking me up, and I’d spent a few days on her couch; eating lasagna and watching daytime tv. I’d been too afraid to decline, when she used her mom-voice on me.

I swallowed hard. “You worked with them?”, I muttered. “Only that once”, Tamara said. “Why, you know them?”. The corner of my lip twitched. “I saw that!”, Tamara gasped. “What?”, I croaked. “Which one…?”, she whispered. “Sam… he’s got that tall broody thing going”. She smirked at me as I looked away. “Oh… Dean… Sure you didn’t catch anything?”. “Tammy!”, I hissed. “Don’t you Tammy me!”, she retorted. “That car… is it to compensate; or does he not need that…?”. I met her eyes, and gave her a crooked smile. She grinned widely at me. I shook my head. “I have work to do”, I muttered.

Forcing myself to ignore the memory of Dean and his car – and Dean in his car; with me on his lap – I returned to the 1950 death of a young woman, who had ever since been seen, once a year, walking over a bridge near a lover’s lane. Tamara sighed. “I need to get to Kansas”. “That vampire nest?”, I asked, taking another large sip of my coffee. She nodded. “You sure you don’t want to join me? Girls trip?”, she asked. “You have all the help you need up there; and I never took down a vamp before. I’d just get in the way”, I answered. “But thank you for the ride here”, I added.

She stood up. “You, my friend, need a car!”. “Yeah… Digging up old graves and reading weird books doesn’t exactly pay well”, I muttered. The last car I’d had, had broken down three months earlier. She looked at me with worried eyes. “You can’t keep hitch-hiking across the country, love”, she said. “Bloody dangerous, that is”. “I’ll be fine. Really”, I smiled. I stood up, and hugged my friend goodbye; and promised to call if anything came up, she needed to help out with.

I took a bus back to my motel, and settled in for the night; with a beer and some day-old pizza. My burner-phone buzzed; and recognizing the number, I picked up. “Hey, Jody”, I said. “Did I forget something at your place?”. “Hey, sweetie. Uhm…”. “What? Jody…”, I demanded. “I just had a visit from a weird guy in a flasher-coat… he was looking for you”, she said. Castiel, I thought to myself – my heart leaping from my chest. “What did he… Did he hurt you?”, I asked; by instinct reaching for the angel sword. “No… But he wanted to know where you were”. She sighed. “Look, I don’t mind being your switchboard receptionist; god knows, things around here can get downright dull. But this guy…”. I chewed my lip. “I’m sorry, Jody… Did you tell him where I was?”, I asked. She scoffed. “You won’t even tell me yourself. How could I?”.

I sighed; unsure whether it was in relief, or something else. “You know, I’m aware you’re close by… I could just check all motels in a 40-mile radius for check-ins by classic rock superstars…”, Jody said, a smile in her voice. “Going full cop on me?”, I grinned. “I don’t use those anymore… too obvious”. “Burlesque names then?”, she said. “You caught me…”, I replied. As it was, I was checked in as Justinia Timberlake; going with boybands – for reasons I didn’t want to admit to myself. “Thanks, ma’…”. “Well, that makes me feel old… Anyway, he said he’d be back later tonight. Needed to find you. Do you want to be found by him?”.

I took a deep breath, pondering the question. No, I didn’t want to be found by the person who’d let leviathans loose on the world; causing me to be almost eaten by one 18 months ago. Yes, I wanted to see my friend; to know he was ok. He hadn’t hurt Jody to get to me, so maybe he was good Cass again. I sighed. “When he comes, tell him… Tell him I’ll be in the shower at the Motel 6 in Hartford. Room 13”. I’d know when he arrived if I could trust him. “That sounds… Ok, I’ll tell him. Be careful, Lulu”. “I will. Bye, Jody”. I hung up; and began preparations.

---

Bobby’s journal had helped me out quite a bit in the last year, helping me keep under the radar by pointing out which motels were off the beaten path; and which monsters to stay clear of. Even after it seemed the leviathans had disappeared, I still kept well away from anyone and everything that might put me in contact with angels and demons – and the Winchesters for that matter.

Another thing it had taught me was the sigil I was currently writing on the wall; while still wincing in pain from the gash in my palm I’d cut to draw blood. All my belongings were in my backpack – which I was wearing – and my sword was in my hand. I was ready to repel a crazy angel; and to skip town quickly. I took a deep breath, and readied myself.

After what seemed like forever – just standing next to a bloody scribbling on a wall – I felt a gush of wind; and Castiel stood in front of me. He was covering his eyes with one hand, and holding out a towel with the other. The sight brought joyous tears to my eyes.

“Cass…”, I breathed. The angel carefully parted the fingers over his eyes – and satisfied that I was indeed dressed – he dropped the towel, and smiled at me. “Lulu. It is good to see you”. I dropped my sword, and leapt over to embrace my friend. Castiel reacted as he’d always done when I showed him affection; by tensing up, and gently patting my head. He smelled like old librarian mixed with fresh air, and – for some reason – musk and gunpowder. He’d been with them.

I let go of him, and stepped back. “What happened? Are you ok?”, I asked. The angel smiled amiably. “Yes. I am… myself again”, he said. “I have to apologize for our last meeting. I was… different”. I gave him a crooked smile. “I wish I could say it was water under the bridge, but you did kind of bad-touch me”, I said. “Not sexually, I mean… but still”. Cass chuckled. It was a strange – almost human – reaction. “Yes, I carved words into your bones. It is also why I haven’t been able to find you”.

I took off my backpack, and got out the small first aid kit I had in it. Castiel frowned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t heal you. I need to save my strength”. I shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve been taking care of my own wounds for over a year”. “Yes, that is what others have told us…”. My breath hitched, and I tried to seem indifferent. “Us?”, I croaked; and began running a bandage around my hand. “Yes”, Cass nodded. “Me, Sam… and Dean. We’ve been looking for you for a few weeks. We need… your book. Bobby Singer’s book”. Just the book. Of course, it was just that. “We are working on… something”. I let out a scoffing laugh. “Well call me not surprised”, I said.

Cass stepped towards me. “So… you’ll give me the book?”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “No”. “No?”, Cass retorted with a confused look at me. “That’s right”, I smiled. “It’s mine”. “But… we need it”.

I took a deep breath; and made a decision. “Where the book goes, I go… So, I’ll go with you”. Castiel’s eyes lit up. “You will? That’s… good. I think”, he smiled. “I can take you right away”. He stepped towards me. “Wait, stop!”, I said. Cass halted. “Where?”. “Lawrence, Kansas. It’s a safe place, don’t worry”, the angel smiled.

I looked down at my feet. I was wearing my boots; that was good. I packed up my backpack, and put it on my back. I picked up the box of Bobby’s old papers; but Cass took them from me, so I wouldn’t have to carry them. “Ok… let’s go”, I croaked.

Castiel lifted an arm, and walked towards me; putting his hand on my shoulder.

---

We were standing by a large mound with what looked like an old factory building seemingly growing out of it. My legs felt like jelly, and Cass grabbed my arm to steady me. “We’re here”, he said. “Where’s here?”, I asked breathily. “I’ll show you”, Cass smiled. We walked up a small road, and passed a black car I recognized from my past – and my dreams and nightmares. Cass led me to a metal door sprouting from the mound. “It’s inside”, he muttered, and opened the screeching door for me.

I stepped inside and was met by a dark spiral staircase leading downwards. Castiel walked ahead of me; which I was thankful for, as I didn’t trust my own legs, and would rather be caught by him, than fall and break my neck. Suddenly a warm light hit me, and I stepped out on a balcony overlooking a large room outfitted with a large table made out as a map. The scent of library hit me, and I understood why Castiel had smelled the way he did when I hugged him. The large room was warm and inviting; but also looked very official, with it’s filing cabinets, and papers on the table.

Castiel walked ahead of me down another flight of stairs, and put the box of papers on the mapped table. “I’m back!”, he called out. “About time!”, a voice that sent shivers down my spine growled. “Please tell us you got something. At least dinner”. “I’m afraid I didn’t have the time to get food for you”, Cass said, and walked towards a large archway leading to another room further inside the bunker – as I decided this place was. “Dude, I gave you 20 bucks for burgers!”.

I considered turning around and leaving. I screamed at myself internally to just haul ass up the stairs, and never come back. But I couldn’t.

Castiel stood in the archway, and looked up at me. “I brought the journal… And a guest”. “You shouldn’t bring people here”, I heard Sam’s voice. My heart pounded, as I heard footsteps across hardwood floor; and then my 6’4 friend stood in the archway with the angel; looking the direction he was. His jaw instantly dropped, and his eyes sparkled.

“I want my 20 bucks back, dude”, Dean said as he joined the other two. “I could eat a…”. He looked up. “Lou…”. Castiel frowned. “You can’t eat…”. “Shut up”, Dean croaked, stepping down the few stairs into the large concrete floored room.

I took a gasping breath; having to remind myself to breathe at all. “Hi…”, I rasped. Dean seemed unsure what to say. “Hey…?”. I began descending the stairs into the room; taking care to hit every step just so, so I wouldn’t trip. Before I hit the last step; Dean took four long strides towards me – and threw his arms around me – holding me tight against him. I put my arms around his neck, and he lifted me down the last steps. Musk, gunpowder, whiskey – Dean. My warm, constantly five o’clock shadowed, strong; yet so fragile, Dean.

I had to tear myself from him; taking short breaths, and trying desperately not to inhale him even further. It was agony. His eyes where as deep and soulful as ever, and the corner of his lip lifted; giving him an expression I couldn’t define as whether being relief, joy or pain – or maybe all three at once.

“Lulu?”, Sam croaked from behind me. I turned around, and threw myself into his arms, earning a spin in the air, as he lifted me. “Hi, Sammy”, I breathed. He squeezed me tightly. “Air!”, I gasped. “Sorry”, Sam chuckled, and put me down; before stroking my cheek.

All four of us stood for a moment, before Castiel cleared his throat. “Well, Lulu is here now. She has the book”, he said. “We can get on with our work”. “Just give us a moment here, Cass”, Sam said. “How are you, Lulu? We’ve been looking for you”. ”You shouldn’t have”, I muttered. “I know, you made that pretty clear last time we heard from you. But…”, Sam began. “We need Bobby’s book”, Dean said; having stepped up next to me. Right, the book.

I raised a brow at him. “My book. And you can’t have it”, I said. Dean frowned. “But… we need it”, he said. “So do I”, I retorted. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Why does it feel like we’ve had this conversation before?”. “Because we did, agent Osbourne”, I chuckled. “Right”, he smiled.

Sam – who apparently just needed a bucket of popcorn for the entertainment he was getting from our conversation – stifled a smile. “Lulu, we’re working on something pretty big here”, he said. “What?”, I asked. “Saving humanity”, Dean said. “Again?”, I sighed. Sam let out a soft laugh. “Wouldn’t be us if it wasn’t, right?”.

I walked up the stairs into the other room, which walls were covered in filing cabinets and books. “What is this place?”, I asked, in awe. Sam followed me into the room. “This is The Men of Letter’s bunker”. “Who are they?”. “Us… now”, Dean shrugged. “We’re kind of like a secret society”. His smugness was tangent of embarrassing. “Look, we’ll fill you in on whatever you want…”, Sam began. Dean cleared his throat, and suddenly looked at his brother with hard eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “This again…”, I muttered. Dean frowned. “What?”. “We need to keep you safe. Keep your head low. Stay here. Go there”, I imitated his growling. “I don’t sound like that!”, Dean growled; proving my impersonation had been right on. He frowned at me, looking cute as a button doing so. I sent him a pouting smile. “Whatever. We need the book”. “And I told you. You can’t have it. I need it”. “For what?”, he grunted. “For jobs”, I replied.

Dean pursed his lips, and blew out a deep breath; clearly trying to control himself. “So you have been… doing jobs…”. “Of course I have”, I said. “What else am I supposed to do? Officially, I think I’m probably dead. There aren’t a lot of teaching gigs out there for dead chicks, who hit the road with fugitives”. He stepped over to me, and grabbed my hand. “And what’s this?”, he asked, pointing at the bandage on it. “A precaution”, I said. “Against me”, Castiel said. “Lulu was right to be careful. Last time she saw me…”. He looked down in remembrance; clearly still ashamed of his former actions.

Dean unwrapped my hand. “Sam, this needs stitches”, he grunted. I tore my hand from his grasp. “I’m fine”, I muttered. “You’re not fine, Lulu. You’re bleeding. Just let us fix you up”. I shook my head in surrender. “There’s a needle and some floss in my bag”, I said, and took of my backpack. “We have actual medical supplies now”, Sam smiled, and disappeared through a door.

Castiel slipped away as well, leaving me and Dean alone in the large room. I sat down at one of the large tables. Dean sat on the edge of the table. “So, hunting?”, he muttered. “How’s that treating you?”. “Well enough”, I said. He clenched his jaw. “Huh… How do you take down a werewolf?”, he asked. “Silver bullet”, I said. “Vampire?”, he continued, raising a brow at me. “Decapitation or fire”. “Shojo?”.

I let out a frustrated breath. “I have no idea, Dean. Never met one”, I said. “Never met a werewolf or a vampire either”. “Good, you’re not ready for any of that”, he said. “You shouldn’t even be here right now”. “It’s not safe”, I imitated him again. “Stop”, he grunted. “You have no idea how to be a hunter. Or what you’re getting yourself mixed up in by coming back here with Cass”. I clenched my jaw. “You’re right on one of those two accounts”, I said. “No, I don’t know what you’re working on, and it’s probably much to dangerous for me. But yes – I do know how to hunt. At least partly. And I’m learning as I go. Isn’t that what everybody does?”. He scoffed, and shook his head with a sarcastic smile. “In over your head, sugar”. “Screw you, Dean”, I growled.

I got of my chair; almost making it topple over from the force of my movement. “I have been working jobs all over for a long time now”, I hissed. “I’ve been playing it safe, yes; but what I’ve been doing, matters!”. Dean rolled his eyes. “Lou, you’re…”, he began. “A newbie. Unskilled, untrained; and with a desperate need for better equipment than the .45 you gave me 18 months ago”. I drew my lips back in a sneer. “But I’m not an idiot, and I don’t want to die. I’m not gonna throw myself at monsters I know nothing about, and can’t take down. But I have to learn to survive in this job, and I’m learning by working”. He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about”. “Then tell me!”, I yelled.

Dean suddenly laughed. The gesture made me want to smack him across the face, but my hand still hurt from the cut. I snatched Bobby’s journal from my bag, and held it up. “You want this?”, I snarled. “Then you treat me with a little more respect for what I’ve been doing the last year!”. I grabbed my bag, and stormed towards the stairs. “Lou!”, Dean called after me. “Go to Hell…! Again!”, I yelled over my shoulder.

I heard him run after me, and he grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry”, he said. “Really…”. I turned around to face him. “I don’t need your permission to do something I’m actually kind of good at”, I said. “You don’t know…”. “You’re right. I don’t”, Dean said earnestly. “So, tell me… please. Maybe I… we can help”. I calmed my breathing. “Let go of my arm”, I croaked. He instantly stepped back.

Sam returned with a box. “We’re out of disinfectant”, he said. “Whiskey it is”, I muttered. “Please tell me you have that”.

---

Soon after, we were seated at the big table; as Sam was carefully stitching up my hand. “So, Ohio… ow! Bloody hell, Sam!”, I hissed, as he poked the needle through my skin. “New curse words, Lou”, Dean chuckled. “And fancy English ones as well”. I smiled. “Yeah, speaking of Ohio… ow”, I continued. “A crazy nurse had been killing patients in the 40’s; and the hospital was closing down – pissing her off something fierce… ow”. “Sorry”, Sam muttered, and pulled at the surgical thread. Dean poured me another drink. “Go on”, he said.

“She was suddenly nabbing pretty much every and any patient she could”, I said; before taking a sip of the whiskey. “I was looking up where they’d buried her after her execution, but it turned out she’d been cremated”. “What did you do?”, Sam asked. He made a final stitch. “Remind me to smack you across the face, when this heals up”, I muttered. “That hurt!”. He chuckled at me, and began wrapping up my hand in a clean bandage. “I found out from an old picture that she had a locket around her neck; which they took from her before she died. It was displayed at a museum in Dayton; and when I tracked it down, I met another hunter”. I looked up at Dean. “Tamara”.

Dean looked stunned. “Tamara? As in British Tamara?”. “Yeah”, I smiled. “She’d gotten there before me; and like me, suspected a strand of hair might be stuck in the locket. I distracted the security guy long enough for her to nab it”. “How?”, he frowned. I looked at him innocently, biting my lip. He looked at me exasperatedly. “You didn’t… Please tell me you didn’t…”. I rolled my eyes. “Sleep with him? No. I just flirted with him a little”. Dean swallowed hard. “You do that all the time”, Sam grinned. “That’s totally different!”, Dean growled.

Sam shook his head. “Then what?”, he asked. “Salt and burn”, I smiled. “Which is pretty much all I’ve been doing. I haven’t been taking on anything hardcore. Yet”. “Really?”, Dean asked warily. I grimaced. “Well… about 9 months ago I came across a tulpa. I thought it was just your every day ghost, and I was just checking out the house; when it attacked me. Salt didn’t work, or iron…”. Dean suddenly looked tense. “What did it do to you?”, he growled. I lifted my t-shirt slightly; exposing a mostly white scar down my ribs. Dean reached over the table, and made to touch it, but I dropped the fabric, and sat back in my chair; finishing my drink in one go. “I had no idea what to do about it, but Bobby wrote something about you guys taking one out some years back; so I called Jody”.

“I asked the sheriff to help me find Lulu”, Cass said, having reappeared with a bag of Mexican food. “I have… taquitos. And jalapeño poppers”, he added, with a soft smile in my direction. “Ranch?”, I asked. The angel nodded. “I love you!”. Castiel cleared his throat. “I have warm emotions towards you as well”, he said.

“So, you called Jody. Why?”, Sam asked; packing up the medical kit. “To get her to have you take care of it. But she said she couldn’t get in touch with you”. Dean scratched his chin. “Yeah, Cass and I were in Purgatory, and Sam hit a dog…”, he muttered. I shook my head. “Nothing’s ever easy with you guys, is it…”.

I opened the bag Castiel had put on the table, and dived for my poppers. “Yum. Extra cheese”, I hummed. I noticed Dean’s eyes warming almost endearingly; but when I licked my finger for a stray dollop of dressing, his gaze suddenly darkened into something else. He parted his lips, and his eyes fastened on my mouth. My breath hitched, and I shook myself – quickly wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I’m gonna go grab the beer”, Dean grunted; and left the room as quickly as he could.

“So, what are you working on?”, my voice broke. “We found a tablet”, Sam said. “The word of God”. My eyes widened. “The actual word of God?”, I breathed. “What?”. “We’re going to use it to seal Hell. For good”. I nodded. “That sounds like an awesome idea!”, I smiled. “How can I help?”.

“You can’t”, Dean grunted, returning with three beers, and a bottle of seltzer for Cass. “This isn’t on you”. “But you need my book”, I said. “And you’re not getting that without my say so”. He tilted his head, and gave me his trademark smirk, sending electric jolts straight to my core. “We could always take it from you”. With bated breath, I put my sword on the table; keeping my hand on the hilt. “I’d like to see you try”, I croaked. “All right, you know…”. Dean clenched his fists, before rolling up his sleeves. I stood up. “We gonna dance now?”, I said; trying for menacing – and failing miserably. “Let me just get my NSYNC-album”, he snarled.

“Ok, guys! Stop!”, Sam called out. “Lulu, Dean’s right. This is a pretty dangerous operation we’ve got going on here. You shouldn’t get involved”.

I clenched my jaw, and took a deep breath to calm myself. “Tell you what… I’ll go back to my own work; and you three can figure out how to save the world without Bobby’s journal”, I said; beginning to put my jacket back on. “When you decide to stop acting like dicks, and let me in on why you’re trying to mess up my job, by taking away my research…”. “It’s Bobby’s research”, Dean snarled. “That he left for me!”, I yelled. “And it has my additions”. I went to grab my bag, when Dean snatched the journal from it, before I could reach it. He held it over his head, as he had my sword, years ago. “Don’t do this…”, I hissed. “I watched plenty of roller derby games, sweetheart. I know your moves”.

His smug smile lit a fire in me, like none other I had never felt before. I ran at him, throwing my shoulder against his chest, making him stumble backwards, and knock over a chair. The journal fell from his hand, and slid across the floor; and I threw myself after it. Dean grabbed my ankle; and I fell to the floor, on my stomach. I tried to kick myself free from his grasp – and reached the book; clutching it to my chest under me. Dean straddled me – his strong legs keeping me in place – and he twisted my body around by my shoulders. We wrestled for the books, and when Dean grabbed my wrists – forcing them over my head – I finally had to let go. He looked at me with hard eyes. “Take it”, he growled; still holding me in place. “Dean…!”, Sam yelled; running over to us. “Take it, Sam!”, his brother roared. Sam took the book from the floor, and looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Lulu”, he muttered.

Dean stayed on top of me – holding me down. His weight on me made my body scream for his touch; at the same time as I wanted him to let me go, and to never touch me again. He looked enraged; but then a thought seemed to cross his mind – one that made him realize what he was doing. He let go of my wrists, and I pushed at his chest hard; making him get off me. Castiel came over, and helped me to my feet.

I stormed out of the room, and down a hallway of doors with numbers on them. Once I found number 13, I opened the door, and stepped inside; slamming it shut behind me.

I took deep breaths – fighting tears and hiccupping sobs. Looking around the room, I tried to focus on what I was seeing, to distract myself. Damn self-help books, I thought to myself. Please help me now. Five things I could see. A bed, a desk, a chair, a book on 1920’s psychiatry, and a dresser. Four things I could touch. I stood up. The floor, the wall, the comforter on the bed, and the gun in the back of my jeans. Three things I could hear. The clock ticking over the door, the drips from the faucet on the sink, and my own footsteps. Two things I could smell. Gunpowder and musk. Dammit. One thing I could taste. The whiskey I’d had earlier.

With one final breath, I felt my heart settle – before it sprang up in my throat again, when the door knocked. “Lou…? Can I come in?”. I stood with my back to the door, not answering. “I know you’re in there. Table 13; always table 13, right?”.

Dean opened the door, and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

“I’m sorry, baby… I didn’t mean…”, he began. “I still… It hurts… even being in the same room as you”, I croaked, and a tear fell down my cheek, as I turned around – making Dean’s face fall into a pained expression. “I keep trying to get over you… Hunting, drinking… sex”. He winced at the last word. “I tried it all, Dean, but it never works”. “I know…”, he breathed. He might as well have added an I feel the same – his eyes gave away the words. “Why doesn’t it work?”, I whimpered.

He stepped towards me, but I held up my hands to stop him. “Don’t… please”. I balled my fists up – forcing my body to stay in place, and not walk into his arms. “You can use my book. You have 48 hours, then I want it back”. Dean nodded solemnly. I closed my eyes. “After that, I’m gone. For good”. I crunched up my brows, and opened my eyes again, looking at Dean with as much determination I could muster. “You don’t look for me, don’t ask for me – pretend I’m a stranger if you hear my name”. Dean’s lips parted, but I continued before he could speak. “I’m done. I can’t… see you. It hurts to much”.

Dean’s eyes watered. “Lou, please… don’t do this”, he breathed. “Don’t throw me away like this”. “I’m sorry”, I rasped. “This isn’t real. If they hadn’t planned it, we would have never gone beyond that first kiss; you know it as well as I do”. He shook his head, and a tear escaped his eye. “I lo…”. “You don’t”, I said. “You think you do; but it’s only because I was made for you. I have to be my own. And I can’t, if you keep popping up in my life”.

Dean closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he looked at me again, I saw complete defeat in his gaze. I’d just broken his heart. “Ok. If that’s what you want”, he whispered, a tear escaping his eye. I wanted to say It’s not. I want you. I want us. But I needed a clean break, and I believed Dean needed that as well. “48 hours. Give me back the book, and you’ll never have to see me again. It’s better this way. For both of us”. Dean nodded. “You can stay in here, if it’s easier than being around me”, he muttered; eyes on the floor. “I’ll stay away”. “Thank you”, I croaked.

He left the room, and I closed the door behind him.

---

I stayed in the room for hours, curled up on the bed. At one point, there was a knock at the door; and when I opened, there stood a tray outside, with food and a bottle of seltzer. I sent a warm thought to Cass, and took the tray inside; eating my meal in peace. There was no entertainment in the room – save for the outdated book on psychiatry – and after finishing my meal, I was going stir crazy.

I tried to catch a little sleep, but couldn’t rest properly; and decided to leave the room. Avoiding going in to the library, I snuck down the hall; and examined my surroundings. I found a large kitchen, outfitted to serve a large amount of people. The fridge was filled with leftover fast food and beer; making it clear that the Winchesters had yet to become all the way domesticated. Down a smaller hallway was a large storage room, with things I was quite sure I shouldn’t be touching. I left the room as quickly as I had entered.

Passing another few numbered doors, I went past number 21. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, Sam was bent over Bobby’s journal, seemingly enraptured by what he was reading. He looked up, and met my eyes – sending me a crooked smile – before I hurried away, to avoid conversation. He didn’t follow.

I found what looked like an old-fashioned gym; and my eyes widened in glee. Here, I felt at home. The punching bags and boxing gloves reminded me of my sessions with Raul. I took off my boots, and grabbed a pair of gloves that seemed to fit my hands – turning my attention to one of the bags.

Punch, punch, kick. This I knew. All my frustrations – the pent-up emotions – I let travel through my arms and legs; as I attacked the bag. “You’re angry”, Cass said; having appeared in the doorway. “I’m… no”, I said. “You’re distraught”, the angel tried. “Something like that. I’m sad. Frustrated…”. I punched hard at the bag. “Tired”.

Muscle pain was building up in my shoulders, and I took off the gloves; dropping them on the floor next to me. “I thought you would be happy to see your friends”, Castiel said. I was thinking of a good way to explain my emotions to him. “I can’t… be happy. Not now”. “Why?”, Cass asked. I chuckled. “Talking to you is like talking to Rain Man”, I said. Castiel grinned. “I’ve seen that movie now. Uh oh, fart…”, he chuckled. “But I would like to understand”.

I punched the bag hard with my stitched-up hand; wincing from the pain. I held it up for Castiel to see. “This – pain – I can feel it. It’s real”, I said. “Impact… physical reaction… It makes sense”. “And happiness doesn’t?”, Cass asked. “No, because I can’t trust it… it’s not real”. Castiel looked like he was pondering my words. “But your physical interactions with Dean… those make sense, don’t they?”. I groaned. “Me and Dean… Is… was, more than physical”. “Yes I know”, the angel said. “You have feelings for each other”. “But they’re not real”, I explained. “Why not?”. “You should know”, I scoffed. “Angel…”.

Castiel seemed even more confused. “I’m not following”, he said. I shook my head. “I… just can’t do this anymore”, I breathed. I put my boots back on. “I’m going back to my room. You have about 40 hours left with my book”. I left the room and the angel behind.

I was feeling sweaty, and decided to search for a shower. The many hallways were confusing; and I finally caved, and decided to ask Sam for help. Arriving back at room 21, the door was closed, and when I knocked there was no answer. I opened the door to see if he was inside, but all I found was a made bed, and some clothes over a chair. I walked back towards the kitchen, and bumped in to Dean; who was leaving the room with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Sorry”, I muttered, as I noticed his coffee having spilt slightly over the floor. “I’ll clean that up”. “Don’t worry about it”, he said quietly. “I got it…”. “Ok”, I nodded. “I just…”. He looked at me hopefully. “I was looking for a shower”. Dean nodded. “Down the hall, to the left by my… by room 11”, he said. “Thank you”, I whispered; and scurried off.

Finally finding the showers, I got undressed, and turned on the water. The water pressure and temperature were amazing; just like everything else in the bunker. So far, everything I had seen here was perfect. There were clean rooms, a well-stocked library, access to training equipment and weapons, and my friends were here. And Dean. I could stay here, and be happy. But it wouldn’t be real.

As I let the water drip over my naked body, I leaned against the wall. I began questioning my choice to continue hunting. I’d have never started in the life, if I hadn’t met the Winchesters – if angels hadn’t put me in their path. Maybe angels had sent the maren after me to begin with. Maybe I should quit.

The thought was comforting and terrifying all at once. I’d have to start over – again. Be a teacher or tend bars; that was all I knew, other than what I had been doing the last year. And I loved hunting, I helped people; even if I never let anyone know why their houses stopped having flickering lights; or why hospitals stopped losing patients who had only minor injuries. I stayed quiet about what I did; didn’t need the glory.

Turning off the water, I realized I hadn’t brought clean clothes into the bathroom; and wrapped myself in a large towel – slipping quietly down the hall to avoid meeting anyone. I passed room 11, and heard voices from inside.

“She doesn’t really want to be here, Cass”, Dean muttered. “Why? I don’t understand. You two…”, Castiel began. “Because it’s not real!”, Dean growled. “Your… ass-butt brothers made her specifically for me. It’s not real, it’s forced on me… and her”. “Dean…”. “Find some way to break this bond we have. It’s not fair to her…”, Dean said. “I can’t do that…”, Cass said quietly. “Why?”, Dean roared. There was no answer. “Cass… just get out”. The door began opening, as if someone was pulling at the knob, and I ran for room 13; closing and locking the door behind me.

Good. He was on the same page as me. And maybe there was a way to break our bond; and make me free of these feelings. Maybe Cass just didn’t know how to, and I just had to find another angel – or whatever – to help.

My phone rang – distracting me from my thoughts. “Yeah?”, I answered it. “Lulu. It’s Tamara”, my friend said. “Hey, Tammy. What’s up?”. “I need your help. My partner didn’t show up; and this nest isn’t a one-woman job”. I sighed. “Tammy…”. “I know, I know; but I really need you on this one. Think of it as a learning experience”. I frowned. It would be a good way to learn, I agreed – and I trusted Tamara knew what she was doing. On top of that, I needed to be as far away from Dean as I could. “Give me the address…”.

After Tamara had let me know where to meet her, I got dressed quickly, and put on my jacket. Almost running through the library, I saw Sam now bent over a strange looking rock, by the mapped table. “I’m going out. I’ll be back for my book”, I muttered, and went to get my backpack, when I realized it was missing. “I packed up a bag”, Sam said. “It’s got some better equipment for you; if you’re gonna keep up hunting”. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Thanks”, I muttered. “Welcome”, he said.

He handed me a canvas backpack, with a little more weight than my own. I opened it, and saw bullets and a large knife, and a machete in a leather sheath. “Silver ammo, iron knife; and there’s a zippo in the side pocket”. “Weres, witches and vampires. Got it”, I said; and put on the bag. Sam frowned. “Where are you going?”. “Just… out. Meeting a friend”, I said. “Do you have a car I can use until I get back?” He threw me a set of car keys. “There’s a Dodge parked a little way down the road. Take it. And uhm… my number. Just in case”. He scribbled down a number on a piece of paper, and came over to hand it to me. I smiled warmly, and pocketed the keys and the note. “How long will you be gone?”, Sam muttered. “As long as it takes. That’s how the job is, right?”, I shrugged. Sam’s face dropped. “What job?”, he demanded. I sighed. “Don’t worry. Your care-package here will keep me safe”, I smiled. “I’ll be back before you know it. Maybe you’ll even have a few extra hours with my book”. “Lulu… what job?”. I got on my toes, and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Sammy”. I ran up the stairs, and exited the bunker.

I found my “new” car half a mile down the road. It was rusty and sad looking; and fit my state of mind perfectly at the moment. I got settled in the driver’s seat, after having set the Dodge up the way I wanted it. Surprisingly, the engine started without trouble; and I turned on the radio. Dean must have driven the car before, because a tape began playing Girls Girls Girls. I was smiling sadly to myself, as I drove the car out on the road at the bottom of the mound.

---

#dean winchester fic #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester #dean x oc #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fic

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obsidiancreates · 5 years ago

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Old Writing Part Two: Electric Boogaloo

Yeah so uh here’s the “Fandom School” one.

This one has not been seen by even myself since like... October of 2016.

Oh jeez. That’s so long ago. Fuck time.

So this is... the whole story. Each Chapter was super short, the first three are under 400 words, so I just stuck ‘em all in here.

This one... is from 12 year old Sid. Yup. Little baby Sid.

It is bad. I’m warning you now. But perhaps, entertaining. At the very least, a good example of being able to grow and improve with enough practice.

Chapter One: Fangirlish

Abby shouted as she hit the floor. Her brother came running in, a look of worry on his face.

"What was that thud?" he asked.

"I laughed to hard while watching Venturiantale and fell off the bed."

Her brother face-palmed.

"Come on, Jeremy. Don't face-palm. They're funny!" Abby said with a grin.

"They're all you think about! You really need to stop obsessing. "

Abby gasped and looked at him like he just asked her to eat a smelly boot. "How could you say such a thing! Plus, they're not all that I think about. I also think about Doctor Who, and Star Wars, and Tolkien stuff, and Percy Jackson, and My Little Pony, and Monster High, and Warriors. "

Jeremy sighed. "Those are all....what do you call them? Fandoms?"

"Indeed. However, I am obsessed with them because they are beautiful. They are fabulous in ways you do not understand, mortal. Be gone!" Abby cried. She grabbed the ballpoint pen she took with her everywhere and uncapped it. "Be gone, or else you shall face the wrath if Riptide! Wait, Riptide can't harm mortals."

Jeremy sighed again and left the room, muttering about Abby being weird.

Abby went back to her video, laughing her butt off. After she finished it she went and read some Percy Jackson fanfiction. She was deeply absorbed in a very interesting fanfic when her alarm went off. It was time. She got up off her bed and went over to her desk.

She sat down and took out her notebook. She put on some music, written by Venturian of course, and began writing. She was writing a fanfic about Doctor Who.

"Abby, there's someone here to see you!" her mom shouted. Abby sighed, but went downstairs anyway.

She entered the living room to find a girl around her age sitting on the couch. She had blond hair with blue streaks and green eyes. She was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fandom U' on it.

"Hello Abby, "she said with a grin, "I hear you're quite the fangirl."

Chapter Two: A Fellow Fan

Abby was a little creeped out. Who wouldn't be if a girl you had never met before was sitting in your living room saying she had heard about you?

The girl seemed to notice that Abby was weirded out, and spoke again. "My name is Bell, by the way."

"Bell? Who names their kid Bell?"

Bell laughed. "My mom's favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast. Anyway, you're a fangirl, are you not?"

"Yeah, kinda. And by kinda, I mean totally." Abby said. She was still a bit creeped out, but Bell seemed friendly enough. "Why do you ask? More importantly, how the heck did you hear about me? That's kinda creepy, considering this is the first time I've ever seen you."

Bell smirked. "So you're asking to know my secret?" She said the last part in a creepy voice.

"Wait, you watch Venturiantale? Awesome! But, could you at least answer my first question?"

Instead of responding, Bell handed Abby a piece of paper. It looked like a letter you would get from school. "Here, read this. If you decide you want to attend, just call the number at the bottom of the page." With that Bell left, humming a tune Abby recognized as the theme of Rohan.

She went back up to her room with the paper and began reading it. At the top it said, in big, bolded letters, Fandom U.

That's what Bell's shirt said.

As she read the paper her eyes widened.

Dear Whom It May Concern It has come to our attention that you are a massive fangirl. We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted into Fandom U. All supplies we be provided upon arrival, should you choose to attend. Please note that some fangirls can be dangerous if you speak negatively about their fandom, and the school is not responsible for any injuries should you be insensitive enough to do so.

Sincerely, The faculty of Fandom U

Excitement came over Abby. "I'm going to Fandom U!" she screamed happily.

Chapter 3: Belonging

A few weeks later, Abby was all packed and ready to go. She had called the school and arranged everything. She was sitting at the bus stop, waiting for her transportation. She bounced her leg up and down, a nervous habit of hers. Finally a bus labeled 'Fandom U' arrived. The doors to the bus opened, and Abby couldn't help but stare at the driver.

"Well, get in!" the driver said through his mask. He was dressed in a full on Stormtrooper cosplay. As Abby stepped onto the bus, she wondered how he wasn't being baked alive in the heat.

She discovered that each row represented a different fandom. She took a seat in the Doctor Who section because it, somehow, had more room then the other sections. The bus started up, making the same sounds the T.A.R.D.I.S makes. Abby stared out at her hometown, feeling excitement at what lay before her. She leaned back in her seat, humming fandom songs. Normally people would look at her like she was crazy, but instead everyone joined in, humming with her.

She had found where she belonged, and she loved it. The whole bus ride was filled with fan theories, discussions about characters, and tons of references. It was the most fun Abby ever had!

After what seemed like only minutes, they had arrived. Abby looked up at the building in front of her in awe.

It was enormous, like a castle. Above the door there was a huge sign reading 'Welcome to Fandom U!'. The building was shaped in an unusual way. So unusual that Abby wasn't even sure what shape it was. The outer walls were painted with so many fandom symbols that Abby had a hard time seeing anything else.

"Abby!" a voice called. Abby turned around to see Bell running towards her. "Abby, great news! They made me your escort!"

"Escort?"

"Well, yeah. It's a huge school. Plus it's your first day. I'm here to show you around!" Bell said.

She looked at Abby's face, which was still a face of awe. Bell grinned and said "Abby, welcome to Fandom U!"

Chapter 4: Orientation

"This place is amazing!" Abby said. She looked over at Bell, who seemed just as excited as Abby felt.

"Wait until you see the inside," Bell said. She started walking and motioned for Abby to follow. Abby grinned and walked with her into the school.

The inside was more amazing than the outside. The entrance was decorated with hundreds of pieces of fandom merch from hundreds of different fandoms. Abby noticed a T.A.R.D.I.S replica, a statue of a cave troll from The Lord of the Rings, a replica of Luke Castilian's sword Backbiter, and what appeared to be a statue of Papa Achachalla.

As she and Bell continued to wherever they were headed, Abby took in everything she could. The halls were each themed around a different fandom. There was a Doctor Who hall styled like the inside of a Dalek spacecraft, a Narnia hall styled like the Pevensy's castle, a Lord of the Rings hall styled like the halls of Rivendell, and a Venturiantale hall decorated with the channel's colors and each of the siblings emblems, among many others.

The classroom doors were all shut, so Abby didn't get the chance to see inside. She followed Bell to a large room resembling a theater.

"Welcome to the auditorium! This is where all the assemblies are held, as well as the school plays!" Bell said. She led Abby over to the very middle row and took a seat. She motioned for Abby to sit next to her, which is just what Abby did.

"This room is huge! How many students are there?" Abby asked.

"I'm not sure. A few hundred, maybe. Possibly more," Bell answered. "Oh, orientation's starting! We better stop talking. "

All the other students had sat down while they were talking. They all went quiet as a lady walked up on stage. "Greetings, students! I am Miss Silnet, your headmistress," she announced. Abby was shocked. The lady definitely wasn't dressed like a headmistress. She wore a camp Half-blood t-shirt underneath a black sweatshirt, a pair of jeans with fandom references doodled all over them, and a pair of plain red sneakers. Her ginger hair was pulled into a loose braid with bits of silver weaved in. She couldn't have been older than thirty, yet was still clearly a fangirl.

"Welcome to Fandom U! I'm sure some of you new students are curious as to what the U stands for. Most people think it means university. However, a university is a collage, and here all ages of fans are welcome. The U in fact stands for United. We are all united under our love of our fandoms! Join me as I say the school's pledge," she said. She put her hand on her heart and began the pledge, with many returning students saying it with her.

To be obsessed For all our lives, To value the next part Over the next school test. To love those who do not love back, To stalk them on the Internet. To unite as one Under the fandom sun.

Abby looked around her, thinking about how all these people had similar interests, habits, preferences, possibly even crushes as her. She realized that they truly were united in their love of fandoms. She could tell this was going to be her best school year ever.

Chapter 5: Classes

After orientation Bell lead Abby to her dorm. The room had two beds, two dressers, two closets, two trashcans, two desks, two bookshelves, and, to Abby's surprise, two TVs. There was a dark blue couch in front of each TV, the bedding was purple on both beds, and at each desk there was a chair made of oak with dark green built-in cushions. There was a large window in the middle of the wall leading outside, with a view of the huge field behind the school. In front of the window was a kitchen, complete with all the cooking utensils you could ever need. On both sides of the room there was a private bathroom with a shower, sink, medicine cabinet, mirror, and, of course, toilet.

"This room is amazing!" Abby marveled.

"It gets better. Guess who your dorm mate is. Me!" Bell said. Abby was very happy to hear that. Despite having only known Bell for a short time, the two seemed to be best friends. Plus, Bell was the only person Abby actually knew!

Abby then noticed the large boxes sitting by the desks. They were labeled School Supplies.

"So, which side do you want?" Abby asked Bell.

"Hm. The right side, I think."

"Okay!" Abby said. She set down her luggage, which she had been hauling around all day, on her bed. She walked over to her desk and opened the box.

Inside was everything a fangirl could need. There was a laptop, about a dozen brand new books, some notebooks, some pencils, some pens, a spare phone charger for both Apple and Android brands, a charger for the laptop, an extra pillow in case of a feels attack, a sketchbook for fanart, colored pencils, and many course books for class.

She closed the box, not feeling like unpacking it. Her eyes fell on some paper on her desk. She picked it up and asked Bell, "What's this?"

"It's a list of all the different classes you can take. In this school you get to choose all your own classes! What you do is pick your five main fandoms, then pick two classes per fandom. Later one of the teachers will come to collect it. They enter it into a computer, which then devises a schedule," Bell explained.

"Oh. Thanks!" Abby said. She turned her attention back to the paper. On the first page were five spots to write her fandoms. She thought for awhile, then chose Doctor Who, Percy Jackson, Venturiantale, Star Wars, and Warriors.

She turned to the next page, which had a list of the different classes for each fandom. She read over all the options, then chose the ones that interested her most.

Abby's choices:

Venturiantale: Tale Fighting, the class where you learn to fight like the Tale characters, and Lore 101, the study and attempt to make sense of VT lore.

Percy Jackson: Demigod Combat, the class where you learn how to fight like a Demigod, and Camp Cooking, the class of learning to cook the meals they eat at camp.

Doctor Who: A Study of Time, the class on understanding how time works, and Regeneration History, the study of the Doctor's personal history.

Warriors: Knowing Your Herbs, the class on healing methods the clans use, and Warriors Speak 101, the study of Warriors phrases and words.

Star Wars: Understanding the Force, the study of what the Force is as well as how it is used, and Dark vs Light, a debate class studying the pros and cons of each side in an attempt to find out which one is truly better.

Abby finished filling out the paper and looked over at Bell, who appeared to be doing the same.

Abby and Bell spent the rest of the night unpacking. Abby discovered that the closest was filled with fandom clothes, as well as the dresser. "How did they know my size?" she asked, a tad creeped out.

"Your mom had to put it on your admission papers."

"Oh."

Just before Abby went to bed there was a knock at the door. The teacher had come by to collect the class papers. After the girls had handed them over they got into bed. Bell seemed to fall asleep pretty quick, but Abby stayed up for hours,unable to sleep at the anticipation of the next day.

And then I never wrote Chapter Six. I guess she overslept, huh? Heh.

#my old writing #Whaaat no Abby's not a self-insert named after my favorite Monster High character #Psssh that's- that's crazy talk

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snowstormbringerwrites · 6 years ago

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RC9GP Chapter 8

Research

Twilight Sparkle Paced in front of the doors of her castle. Around her were various crystal pillars, Tapestries, and A staircase leading to the actual castle.

“Twilight darling, you must calm down” Rarity crooned from her place on the stairs with the others. They had been watching Twilight for the past 5 minutes.

“Calm down? Calm down!? Rarity I can’t ‘calm down’ Princess Celestia sent me a letter saying that she wanted to ask me a few questions and that she was on her way here. I mean what does she want to ask me? What if I don’t know the answer? WHAT IF IT’S REALLY IMPORTANT AND I DON’T KNOW THE ANSWER!?” Twilight would have ranted on for quite a while if it wasn't for Apple Jack

“Rarity’s right sugar cube, you need to calm down. This isn’t your first rodeo when it comes to tests and the Princess”

“Yeah, you’re totally gonna nail it” Rainbow Dash stated “right guys?”

The others simultaneously agreed to make Twilight smile.

A fanfare could be heard from outside followed by two of the Princesses royal guards opening the doors. Princess Celestia strode in and gave Twilight a hug. Which Twilight returned.

“Princess, I’m so glad you're here. How was your travel?” Twilight asked after pulling away from the hug.

“It was just fine Twilight. Celestia answered in her usual caring tone “I’m sure you got my letter explaining why I’m here?”

“YES! Yes, I did. I have the library all prepared follow me.

Twilight lead Princess Celestia to the castle's Library and they sat down at one of the tables.

“Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”

“Just some water, thank you”

“Spike, can you get Princess Celestia some water please?”

“Right away Twilight” Spike jogged out of the room and Twilight turned back to Celestia.

“So what did you want to ask me?”

“Do you think you can help me do some research?”

“Say what now?”

“My duties as Princess take up most of my day, and I don’t have much time to do this research for myself. Plus I know how much you love research.”

“Yes! I love research! What do you want me to look into?”

Celestia was about to answer when Spike walked in with her water.

“Here you go Your Highness” Spike chirped placing the cup on the table and leaving.

“Thank you Spike” Celestia called after him, then focused her attention back on Twilight. “I want you to Research the Ninja of Norrisville.

“Isn’t he the pony who saved you?”

“Yes, he is. I saw him a second time after that incident and he performed some kind of spell I did not recognize”

“I thought he was an earth pony?”

“He was, that’s why I want to do some research on him”

“Okay, so what kind of spell was it?”

“Some kind of transfiguration or shapeshifting spell”

Twilight Started pulling various books off the shelf

“Changeling?”

“No, He had wings that appeared to turn into ribbons and become part of his suit”

“Wait? Wings? So he looked exactly like that pegasus Rainbow Dash met in Canterlot?”

“Yes they were the same pony”

“But what was he doing in Canterlot?”

Celestia could only shrug and Twilight continued to look through her books.

A few months Twilight got on a train to the Canterlot Castle to meet Princess Celestia and review what she found

“The only transfiguration or shapeshifting spells I can find are only performed by high-level unicorns and alicorns. So how did he do it? She wondered out loud, still looking through her books.

“ I’m still trying to get over the fact that the pegasus I meet was also an earth pony,” Rainbow Dash said, pushing Twilight’s book down.

“And A Hero” Rarity swooned, then she quickly snapped into a serious mood “But, he REALLY needs to update his outfit.” She looked around at the others as they stared at her with varying degrees of confusion and amusement.

“What? 800 years in the Exact Same outfit. He Really needs to update”

“Rarity, why don’t we talk about his outfit after we figure out the shapeshifting thing” AppleJack interjected. Rarity gave her an offended look

“Umm… Twilight? Are you sure he’s not a changeling?” Fluttershy squeaked” as Rarity and AppleJack started a small argument.

“Yes, Fluttershy” Twilight sighed. “Changelings have a distinct transformation, Celestia’s description of the Ninja’s does not match. She said his wings turned into ribbons and became one with his suit.” She closed her book and grabbed another “Which is another thing I have not been able to find anywhere” She slammed her book shut with a huff.

“I may not know a lot about magic but spells have to be created, so what if he made the spells himself” Rainbow Dash suggested peeking at the third book Twilight grabbed.

“That’s possible, But once again he would need to be a unicorn or alicorn”

The five barley reacted when Pinkie Pie popped up between Rainbow Dash and Twilight despite being on the opposite side of the both a second earlier.

“What if he wasn’t the one to cast the spell. Instead, somepony cast it on an item that he wears, like his scarf or his mask”

Twilight shook her head “That is a possibility I already looked into. All the spells I found were close, but all of them would require a high-level alicorn to cast it”

“So?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“The Ninja is 800 years old, the only alicorn around at that time was Princess Celestia.” Twilight explained “Why would she ask me to look up a spell she cast? And if she did she would have written it down, so why can’t I find it?

“What if the Ninja is an alicorn?” Rarity wondered out loud

Twilight stared at Rarity with a ‘why didn’t I think of that’ look on her face.

“I mean all the spells that would allow him to pull off the wing trick are all high-level alicorn stuff” Rarity explained, “And if he can make his wing disappear and reappear who says he can’t do it with a horn?”

“Rarity…..You…..Are…..A GENIUS!

“So that’s what my friends and I were able to come up with” Twilight finished presenting all here research to Princess Celestia, even the dead ends.

Celestia looked over the organized chaos of papers, book, pictures, and some videos and smiled. “Great job Twilight, This is way more than I expected for answers”

Twilight beamed with pride

“Ummm excuse me… Your Highness?” both looked to see a unicorn peeking in through the door, a clipboard in her magical grasp. “You're going to be late for your meeting with the Sultan of Saddle Arabia”

Celestia sighed and shook her head “I’ll be right there Silver Scholar”

The unicorn in question nodded and left the room.

“Well it looks like duty calls Twilight” Celestia sighed as she stood up “Thank you again for helping me with this research”

“It was no problem Princess” Twilight responded “you know how much I love research”

Celestia started making her way towards the door before pausing. She pulled a card out of the desk that was near her and handed it to Twilight.

“What’s this?” Twilight asked examining the card.

“A pass for the restricted part of the library” Celestia responded, “I think you earned it”

Twilight gasped and failed to hold back her excitement “THANK YOU SO MUCH PRINCESS” She hugged Celestia, which she returned.

“Your welcome” Celestia chuckled “Just remember, the books were restricted for a reason”

“I will, thank you again bye!” Twilight rushed her goodbye and her exit in her excitement to get to the library.

Celestia simply laughed at her student's antics and left for her meeting.

#I'm back #MLP #My Litte Pony Friendship is Magic #My Little Pony #RC9GN #RC9GP #randy cunningham #Randy Cunningham 9th grade pony #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja

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thedyslexicbard · 7 years ago

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Mean Girls Part 2

A/N okay so part one blew up in two days so wow thanks so much and i have been requested for a part two so here it is if you want more just ask ill be happy to and if you want to be tagged by all means just ask

Wednesday Lunch

“Look at you that top is so cute Y/N” Liz exclaimed as Y/N sat down at the table

“thanks erm i think its Gucci-”

“SHUT UP !! let me see the tag” Liz stood rounding the table to look at the tag on Y/N top “holy shit its even better its the Chanel knit sweater ” Liz screamed sitting next to Y/N

Beckie leaned in in began to speak in a hushed tone “well seeming as you are one of us now its time to lay down some ground rules: Number one You cant wear a tank top two days in a row, and only have your hair in a pony tail once a week and you chose today which is fine.” Y/N smiled

“oh and we only wear Jeans or track suits on Friday's oh and if you break any of these rules you cant sit with us at lunch and not just you but any of us so like if i was wearing jeans today i would be sat over there at the weirdo table”

Beckie motioned to the table Ned and Peter were being adorable dorks

“oh and we always vote to see if you can eat lunch with us because you have to be considerate to the rest of the group, like you wouldn't by a skirt without asking us first if it looks good on you”

“i wouldn’t” Y/N became lost she had no idea this is normal girl world stuff she just lived on 5 cups of coffee, 2 hours of sleep and mainly spent free time in the Lab with her dad or helping the Avengers on missions being the ‘guy in the chair’

“Exactly” Beckie Finished tucking into her salad, Y/N was overwhelmed with information

for the next 2 minuets the table sat in silence Y/N Looked over at Peter he had his right hand holding his head whilst he dreamily watched his girlfriend Y/N let out a giggle waving to him, he noticed and nearly choked on his sandwich as he fumbled around trying to wave back Y/N stifled her laugh earning her a questionable look from the plastics. Liz opened up her sandwich

“hey is Butter a carb?”

“what?” Y/N was confused she could understand her dad asking this question when he was sleep deprived and running off gluten free waffles but the ex head of the decathlon was a new level,

“Ugh whatever im getting cheese fries” Beckie watched Liz leave for the line before asking

“So Y/N got you eye on any guys here?”

“errm well peter and I have been dating for a few months-”

“OMG NO You can’t Date Peter he was Lizs ex boyfriend he left her at homecoming alone! friends ex boyfriends are of limits to friends thats like the rules of feminism

“thats not it works”

“i wont tell Liz what you said it will be our little secret”

“what secret?”Liz spoke her mouth full of chips

“oh you know th-”

“OMG you should totes invite Y/N to your house tonight liz” Britney interrupts twirling her hair between her fingers

“totes, so do you wanna come over?”

“oh errm ill have to-” Y/N hesitated

“great see you after school” and with that Liz, Beckie and Britney left in unison.

“Hey Y/N how was being a plastic?” peter slung his arm Y/N planting a kiss on her temple,

“horrible i bet” MJ answered with a smirk

“horrible is an understatement she thought butter was a carb and now i’m invited to go over to her house tonight” Y/N whined dropping her head in hers hands

“but tonight is Lego and star wars night!!”

“Yeah Y/N you said you were going to help me and Ned finish the new rebel base” Peter looked at his girlfriend pulling her into a hug

“god you three are such nerds anyway see you nerds later”

“Bye MJ,, Look i tried to get out of i really did and-” before y/N could finish Liz, Britney and Beckie pulled up in a porche

“GET IN LOSER WERE GOING”

“ill see you later” y/n Kissed peter goodbye before getting in the car

“Wow your house is so nice” Y/N commented looking at the modern structure trying not to sound mean

“i know right” Liz said smugly strolling to the front door before Y/N could follow Beckie pulled her to one side

“make sure you check out her moms boob job there hard as rocks” Y/N was shocked by the comment as she continued into the house she followed the plastics to the kitchen

“im home” Liz shouted the sound of music blasted from the tv as an older woman dressed head to toe in a pink velvet track suit emerged from behind the counter

“Hey, hey, hey how are my girlfriends?” she smiled

“Hey Ms. Toomes this is Y/N Stark” Beckie greeted motion towards Y/N

“well hello” sh

“Oh hi”

“Welcome to our home Y/N” she walked towards Y/N embracing her into a hug ‘Holy Shit this is like trying to hug dad in his suit’ Y/n thought as the woman crushed her with her chest

“i Just want you to know if you need anything don’t be shy okay.. there are no rules in this house im not like a regular mom im a cool mom right liz”

“please stop talking” Liz smiled walking towards her room with the others in tow

“okay im gonna make you girls a hump day treat ” she called after them

“This is your room?” Y/N asked, compared to hers it was kind of small she moved around the bed looking at various pictures and books Liz had on the shelves

“well it was my parents room before dad got locked up so i got it instead” Liz took off her shoes and headed towards the mirror

Y/N noticed a picture of Peter and Liz on homecoming she felt a pain shoot through her body Why would she have a picture of peter and her together? she thought before being interrupted

“omg i like love this song, Hey Y/N do you even know who sings this?” Liz asked as she noticed Y/N looking at the picture

“err the spice girls?” Y/N didnt care she only listened to old rock songs or anything that her dad was playing in the lab

“haha omg that’s so cute shes like an alien” Liz laughed

“OMG My hips are huge” Britney cried

“oh please i hate my calves”

“Ugh at least you can wear halters i have man shoulders” Liz whined

Y/N only new a person could be either fat or skinny but since knowing the plastics she found that so much could be wrong. Y/N train of thought derailed as all three of the girls looked at her “Oh um i have really bad sense of fashion” before anyone could comment Lizs mom entered the room

“Hey you guys happy hour is from 4 to 6″ Ms Toomes walked in carrying a tray of cocktails, the girls each took one Y/N looked at the red concoction#

“hey um is there alcohol in this?” Y/N asked hesitantly picking up the glass if her dad found out she had even a drop of alcohol before her 21st birthday there would be hell to play

Ms. Toomes gasped “oh god hunny no what kind of mother do you think i am ... why do you want a little bit if you are going to drink id rather you do it in the house”

“Oh no thank you” Y/N sipped the cocktail avoiding eye contact with the woman

“Oh my god look at this” Britney sighed pulling out a pink book labled ‘Burn Book’

“ugh i haven't looked at that in ages”

“come check it out Y/N its our Burn Book we cut out girls pictures from the year book and write stuff about them” beckie and britney flipped through the pages “Mary Jane the-”

“wait who is that next to her” Britney asked pointing to Ned

“oh that’s Ned hes to Dorky to function” Y/N said earning a laugh from the girls

“thats funny put that in” Liz laughed ‘oh shit i guess it was only okay when peter and MJ said it’ Y/N thought “hey errm thanks for inviting me over but i have to go”

“so soon such a shame Y/N well see you tomorrow!” Liz pouted hugging Y/N goodbye

“Hey screwdriver how was school?” Tony greeted his daughter as she entered the tower Y/N threw herself on the couch face first getting a sympathetic pat on the head from Nat

“horrible this sweater is so itchy, i had dinner with the three stooges and i was asked if butter was a carb”

“is it a carb?”

“SHUT UP BARTON” Tony and y/N shouted in unison at Clint who threw his hands up in response,

A/N: Heck this was slightly longer than i anticipated but here it is mean girls part 2 enjoy i had a lot of fun writing this i might do a part 3 if you want XX ~Jess

#tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark fanfiction #marvel #iron man #tony stank

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secret-captain-swan-blog · 7 years ago

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Castle on the Hill

English Literature PhD student Emma Swan just needs money to pay for her last semester of grad school tuition. Killian Jones has always dreamed of opening a bookshop but has never been able to afford it. So when the small principality of Misthaven is looking for their lost princess, the pair decide that this might just be the perfect money making scheme.

A Multi-chapter Modern Day + Lost Princess (think Rapunzel/Anastasia-esque) + Book Lovers in a Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 60928/ ?

Prologue (Part 1 + 2) // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10

Read on: Ao3

“Emma no-middle-name Swan,” Belle announces, as she fills up the screen on Emma’s phone. “I have the greatest beyond greatest news for you.”

It’s Friday night in Emma’s apartment. Facetime is open, her phone propped up by a stack of books on the coffee table as she drinks a mug of tea in her pajamas. Her hand is wrapped in a complex bandage. Killian insisted on having her stop by a clinic on the way home from the farm. The doctors had assured her that she didn’t need stitches for the cut on her hand, but they did some testing to make sure it hasn’t been infected and then gave her a butterfly band aid to keep it together. Killian had then set off to his evening shift, after Emma reassured him for the ninetieth time that she actually fine and he didn’t to fuss over her. In turn, she headed back to her apartment to skype her best friend.

Who apparently has the greatest news.

“Tell me,” Emma says, pulling her grey blanket around her and smiling at the camera.

“I got a grant to do a bit of research in London at the end of the month,” Belle tells her. “I’m coming to Europe! And you have to hang out with me.”

Emma bursts into a huge smile. She doesn’t realize how much she’s needed her best friend until now. Killian’s been great, more than great. But Belle is her soul-sister, the only friend she’s ever managed to make. And she’s going to see her in person. They’ll be able to talk, really talk. And see London.

“Belle, this is amazing!” Emma ooes. “I’ll book my trip there right away. Do you think it’s cheaper to fly or take a ferry or a train? What days are you getting here?’

Emma dives to grab her planner off the coffee table and starts to pen in the dates as Belle lists them off.

“Wow,” Emma exclaims, running her hand through her hair as she stares fondly at the newly penned dates in her planer. “This is really going to be amazing. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I know,” Belle says, “You’ll be able to tell me everything about your little schemes and teaching foreign undergrads and your thesis and oh, yeah, the boy.”

“What boy?” Emma repeats.

As if she doesn’t know who Belle is talking about.

“The opera boy,” Belle says.

“Oh, him,” Emma says.

Who else would it be? Killian is her only friend in town, if she didn’t count the Queen of Misthaven. And maybe Professor Hood.

“Killian,” Emma tells her, “His name is Killian.”

“Hmm, now tell me about him,” Belle prompts. “Have you seen him again?”

Ugh, Emma is totally not ready to talk about him. About earlier.

“I mean we hang out most days a week,” Emma explains, hiding her blush in a gulp of tea.

“Oh, do you?” Belle asks, flashing a cheeky smile.

“He’s been showing me around,” Emma tells her, rolling her eyes, “Taking me to see different parts of Misthaven, going to the opera with me, teaching me how to horseback ride- just normal stuff.”

“Teaching you how to horseback ride? Shut up, Emma! That’s super romantic,” Belle ooes.

Emma ducks her head, her blush unable to be blocked any longer.

“Emma,” Belle gasps, “I’ve never seen you make that face before.”

“God, I know, Belle,” Emma mumbles.

“Did you kiss him?”

Emma doesn’t reply.

“Emma Swan! You kissed a boy!” Belle squeals.

“It was just a one-time thing,” Emma says quickly.

“No, no,” Belle says, “You like him. It’s not allowed to be a one-time thing. I forbid it.”

“You can’t forbid it,” Emma says, “I am a strong independent academic woman and I don’t need a man.”

“Obviously, you don’t need a man,” Belle says, “But the marriage plot isn’t about women needing a man. It’s about women making choices that make them happy and fulfilled.”

“My thesis makes me happy and fulfilled,” Emma protests.

“Yeah uh huh,” Belle laughs, “I wish I believed you.”

“I’m not doing any dating until this dissertation is turned in,” Emma sighs, “No matter how much I might be secretly in love with my Misthaven best friend.”

“We need to have a serious conversation about this at some point. In London, shall we?” Belle tells her, “But until then, don’t hurt that boy too much.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

“No, I’m serious, Emma,” Belle tells her, “He obviously likes you a lot. Be careful with his heart.”

Emma runs her good hand through her hair.

“I will,” She vows.

“What about you?” Emma asks, trying to change the subject.

“What about me?” Belle asks.

“How are things for you? Boys?” Emma prods.

Belle sighs, “Delightful. But complicated. Delightfully complicated? I’ll tell you all when we are in London. I can’t explain here.”

“Fine, whatever. I’m glad you are coming to Europe, you loser. Or else I’d never hear all your gossip,” Emma laughs.

“And I’d never have the opportunity to persuade you to stay with your boy,” Belle teases back.

“Ugh, okay. I promise I’m booking my ticket soon,” Emma tells her, “But I should probably sign off now. I’m going riding with the queen tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep.”

“Oh, horseback riding with the queen,” Belle says in a horrible British accent.

“She has a Misthaven accent, you goon,” Emma tells her.

“Oh, horseback riding with the queen,” Belle repeats in an even more atrocious Misthaven accent.

“I’m hanging up with you,” Emma says.

“Alright, let me know when you buy that ticket, will you?” Belle says, “And seriously, girl, don’t be afraid to kiss that boy again.”

“Bye Belle,” Emma laughs, turning off her phone before her friend can give her any more advice.

It’s the next morning when Emma finds herself astride a horse. Again.

Seriously, she never expected her dissertation research to involve so much horseback riding.

But it seems that Prancer is even better behaved than Blaze was, so that’s something. Clearly someone has been riding this pony even though Princess Emma isn’t.

Which brings about the worst part: this pony is tiny.

Seriously, the poor thing was made to carry around 4-year-old Princess Emma, not 25-year-old Fake Princess Emma. What if she squishes the poor thing and it dies? Then the queen will hate her and never give her the money? This is such a mess.

“Do you ride often?” The queen asks her. She’s astride her mount, a large, dark horse named Diego.

“No, not at all really,” Emma says, “I had a lesson with a friend yesterday and it didn’t go very well.”

Emma raises her hurt hand.

“Oh you poor dear,” The queen exclaims, “Are you quite alright now? Is this frightening?”

Emma shrugs, trying not to say, “Get me off of this fucking horse.” Because honestly this pony is too tiny to be scary.

“Oh no, I’m grand,” Emma says, smiling kindly. “It’s so nice of you to take me out to ride.”

And it’s true. The forests here are very well maintained. Clearly the queen employs an extensive grounds crew. While the Du Bois forest was wild and whimsical, the Royal forests are neat and regal. There are tall trees that must have been there for centuries of Nolan rulers. There are ancient looking fountains, classical statues, and strategically planned flowers in color schemes. Emma is refined enough to appreciate it, but she thinks she prefers the enchanting feel of the Du Bois woods better.

And then there is the horses themselves. They are kept in tip top shape, groomed, well, preened more like it. Each horse has identical neat manes, saddle pads with the royal crest on it, and shiny saddles. If anything, Emma feels underdressed in her cable knit sweater and ankle boots that she picked up from the New Look in Old Town. If she ends up getting asked to ride this often in Misthaven, she’ll likely have to invest in some actual riding boots. She can’t believe it. Her, Emma Swan, foster-child-orphan-fraud, buying boots just for horseback riding.

“So, what does your mother think about you spending so much time with the Queen?” Mary Margaret asks, “I know I’ve been mentoring you a bit, but I hope she doesn’t feel like I’ve replace her.”

Emma stops her horse. It’s a conversation that they definitely should have had before now. But even in a situation like this, even when her whole deception relies on her being an orphan, a ward of the state, she hasn’t brought it up yet. It’s still a secret she guards carefully. She always has. It even took Killian a few weeks to coax it out her, Belle even longer.

But it’s got to come out at some point for this whole thing to go any farther.

“I don’t have a mother,” Emma whispers, her soft words echoing into the chattering forest, “Or a father.”

She tries to brace herself for the pity in the Queen’s face. That’s Emma’s life, always the subject of pity. The emotion is raw across Mary Margaret’s visage- grief, sympathy, and a hint of hope.

Oh. It’s that tiny glint of hope that Emma recognizes in her eyes that lets her know that she is really deep in this.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” The queen murmurs.

She reaches out to take Emma’s hand, despite the horses. It’s a solemn moment. To be honest, Emma’ a little annoyed by it. She’s not in the mood to relive her sad story. She doesn’t want to think about the trauma of growing up moving from house to house. Emma just wants to enjoy the gorgeous autumn weather and the daunting task of horseback riding.

But then again, this woman watched her family and friends get murdered. She lived in secrecy and exile for years. Maybe Emma can reveal a bit of her hardship to her.

“When did they pass?” Mary Margaret asks and Emma has to try not to roll her eyes in front of royalty. Because oh my god. This lady is totally fishing. She has it bad.

But maybe it’s more than that. The Queen also lost her family. They have that in common.

“I don’t really know,” Emma tells her. “I was found in an airport when I was three. They could be out there, but clearly they have no interest in me.”

“Emma-“

And Emma truly hates everything because just like with Killian, when she told him everything, it’s not a story she can tell without turning into an emotional, vulnerable, sobbing thing. This story is part of her neat little wall of bottles. And well, un-corking the bottle, is like un-corking a heaping grossness of emotion.

“Like people forget their water bottle in airports, and sometimes their winter gloves. But when they forget their luggage or their cellphone or some valuable, they go back and get them. So clearly I wasn’t valuable to anyone. Not to my parents. Or Aunts or Uncles. Or Grannies. Or whatever. And it’s taken my whole life to feel like I’m valuable to anyone.”

Queen Mary Margaret sees the unshed tears in Emma’s eyes and dismounts her horse. She gives Emma a gentle nod, and Emma slides off her mount. The mud squishes underneath her ankle boots. She looks down at her hands.

“Do you feel valuable to people now?”

Emma nods.

“To my best friend, Belle. She’s the first time I felt like I could trust anyone truly. Like I actually had a friend entirely on my side.”

She grits her teeth because she isn’t sure she’s ready to say it, but adds, “And Killian.”

“Killian Jones?” The queen grins.

“Yeah,” Emma says, “Him. He’s really great and I care a lot about him. Which is weird for me to care about other people. Sometimes caring for myself seems like a full-time job. But yeah.”

“And you like him?” The queen prods.

Emma sighs, “I don’t know. Maybe? The fact that I’m even saying that is impressive. I don’t like people. I just like surviving.”

The queen takes a step forward and puts her hands on Emma’s shoulders.

“You should know that you are valuable to me,” She says, her voice firm.

Emma swallows a sob that tickles her throat.

“I know I’m a crazy queen of a tiny country that swooped you up under my wing, but you matter to me. I really care about you, Emma.”

Emma wants to run for a moment. Because this is like Ingrid all over again. Because this whole thing is super fake and Emma has become the master manipulator she never wanted to be. Because Mary Margaret can’t actually love her, she just loves the idea that she’s her daughter. Because once someone cares about her, then they have infinite power to break her.

But for the tiniest flicker of a moment, she feels something stir inside that she’s never felt so entirely before. She feels like she has a mother.

And somehow she closes the space between her and Queen Mary Margaret. Here they are in the middle of this random ass fairy tale forest crying together as fake-mother-and-daughter and Emma knows this isn’t her thing. But it feels right. And recently she’s discovered that she can feel things she didn’t think she could feel before. So she hugs her, and lets her snot stain the sovereigns’ elegant riding jacket, and lets herself for the second time in two days, take a risk and feel something for someone.

“Have you ever cantered?” The queen asks, decades later, when they pull away.

“Uh no,” Emma replies.

“Would you like to learn?”

“Sure I guess, but I’m a little worried about my hand,” Emma murmurs, raising her gloved hand, that’s a little chubbier with her complicated bandage.

“You’ll be fine. Come on, get back on your horse. Let’s go.”

Emma remounts Prancer. Luckily, the pony is so tiny she doesn’t need a mounting block.

“Now, take up your trot,” The queen says, as she begins to bob up and down as her horse takes up its uneven rhythm.

Prancer and Emma follow. She tries to remember Killian’s instructions the day before on how to post, using the momentum of each stride to rise up and down.

“Alright, now give Prancer another firm squeeze,” Mary Margaret tells her, demonstrating on her own horse.

Emma thumps her legs against Prancer and the pony switches to a smooth, faster motion. Emma’s face breaks out into a smile. There is something so freeing about this. She feels connected with the horse, the world around her.

Suddenly the forest trail gives way to a valley, it’s nestled between two mountains, but it’s all open field. Emma’s heart skips a beat because there is something achingly familiar about this field, this valley. It’s like she knows it. She can’t know it. She’s never been here before.

It’s probably some fake déjà vu. She probably hiked in a valley similar to this with Killian. She probably saw something like it with Belle during their road trip to DC during college. Something, anything.

She pulls on the reins and slows the horse the down. She shoves the thought into a bottle, into the wall. But dang it. She’s getting worse at the wall thing. She’s getting worst at bottling things up.

“Are you okay?” The queen asks.

“Yeah,” She replies, “it’s all just a little overwhelming.”

“It’s okay, Emma, we can start slow,” She tells her.

Start slow. She breathes out and in. It sounds like a solution to more than one problem.

She glances at the queen who gives her a warm smile. Emma smiles back.

Trust. Emma thinks that the word. That’s why she’s having trouble bottling things up. She’s starting to trust people.

Emma and Queen Mary Margaret finish their ride an hour later. A groom meets them at the stable doors. He helps them dismount, before whisking the ponies away to be untacked and cleaned.

“Would you like a cup of tea before you head home?” The queen asks.

Emma nods, “Sure.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Mary Margaret tells her, “I so want you to see the house here. It’s the one that was meant to be my daughter’s.”

Emma remembers this. Princess Emma’s future home in the Southern Valley. Except there is no Princess Emma, so the house sit ominous empty.

“I still have a few staff who keep it running, of course,” Mary Margaret adds. “It’s a nice place to go to pepper up after a long ride.”

Emma smiles. They walk through the gardens up to the entrance. While these gardens are more subdued compared to those at her hilltop palace, the plants are still well cared for, flourishing in autumn colors- oranges and soft reds. Clearly the grounds are well taken care of.

“The library here is very nice as well,” The queen explains. “It’s bit more subdued than the library at the Summer Palace, but it’s cozier I think.”

Emma grins, already anticipating another book filled room. She wonders if this one will contain any secrets about Misthavian fairy tales. Her fingers already begin to tingle at the thought of all the books and worlds that they open up.

“Oh, Regina, how lovely to see you,” Mary Margaret remarks suddenly, as they watch a tall, elegant woman walk through the gilded doors out into the garden.

There is something incredibly familiar about this lady. Emma’s sworn she’s seen her before.

“Your Majesty,” The woman replies, giving a small curtsey to the Queen.

“Emma darling,” Mary Margaret says, “This is my dear friend, Prime Minister Mills. Regina, this is my friend Emma.”

The Prime Minister gives Mary Margaret a sharp look, raising one eyebrow incredulously.

Emma shifts uncomfortably, “Nice to meet you Madame Prime Minister.”

She puts out a hand. The woman gives it a dubious look, but shakes it.

“Please to meet you as well, Miss…” The woman waits for Emma’s reply.

“Swan,” Emma tells her, “Emma Swan.”

“Emma is an opera aficionado,” Mary Margaret explains. “And a literature Ph.D. from the states. She’s working on a research fellowship here.”

“From the states?” Regina repeats.

For a moment Emma is lost as to why this woman hates her so much. They’ve only just met. And she’s like the Prime Minister of the country and Emma is just a nobody.

“Can I speak to you a moment, your Majesty?” Regina requests, “Alone.”

Emma cringes as she watches the two step into the building. Emma sits down on one of the stone steps in the garden, bending over to wrap her arms around her legs. All of a sudden, the autumn air feels chilly.

All of a sudden, the feelings of trust that Emma felt so strongly before flicker before her. She wants to believe that she can trust the queen, but well, she’s been through this so many times before and she knows what’s going to happen.

As Emma holds herself together through the cold, she imagines the conversation going on inside the house. The Prime Minister is probably convincing the queen that she is delusional. She’ll explain how Emma is obviously a fake. I mean it’s ridiculous to be true- a girl named Emma who is from America, who loves literature and goes the opera. It’s like someone created to simply manipulate the queen into believing that it’s her daughter. And Emma knows it’s all true. She is the perfect person because it is all true. But that doesn’t prevent the tendrils of worry from wrapping their way around her stomach. What if the Prime Minister convinces her that she’s an imposter?

The jig is up, is all Emma can think, as tears threaten her eyes, her worries swimming before her. She’s going to be deported for impersonation. She’s going to be sent back to Duke and never finish her thesis and she’s going to go back to being a lonely-ass foster child with no friends and no prospects. God, she’s so stupid. She never should have trusted anyone. This happens every time she does. Why did she even think-

“Emma?” The queen interrupts.

Emma looks up at the sovereign, who sits down beside her.

“Oh, sorry, you shouldn’t have to sit on stone, you’re like a queen and-“

“It’s not a bother to me,” the queen says, “abet a bit cold.”

Emma chances giving her a smile.

“Is everything okay?” She ventures to ask.

“Regina,” The queen says softly. “Prime Minister Mills, that is. She worries about me.”

Emma is silent. Her stomach still fluttering with worry, the tears from earlier still stuck her in eyes- not yet shed, not yet dried.

“You must know, I suppose, that I’ve had a problem over the years. I don’t like giving up hope. And because of that, I’ve convinced myself that a variety of imposters were my daughter,” she admits. “I’m not proud of it. I know I’ve made myself into a fool in front of the kingdom and I know that Regina is just trying to prevent that from happen again.”

So, Emma isn’t wrong. Regina is on to her. Regina did just try to talk some sense into Mary Margaret. Which granted, to honest, Mary Margaret probably does need some sense talked into her at some point.

“But I told her that it’s not like that with you,” Mary Margaret says and Emma looks up.

She still doesn’t know what to say, some she swallows and raises her eyebrows and widen her eyes, hoping the expression will beckon a response out of the queen.

“I told her that you’ve become something of a mentee to me. That we share a love of books and culture. But regardless, that you’ve lived a life where people have left you. And I’ve lived a life where people have manipulated me and used me. Maybe our friendship is something that is purely healing for both of us.”

The tears that been threatening her eyes start to trickle down a little. Just the day before Emma vowed to cry less, but clearly that isn’t happening. This is now twice in just one outing.

“I told you that you are valuable to me, Emma,” the queen says, “And I wasn’t lying. You are valuable to me.”

Emma sniffles. The word trust echoes in her ears from earlier. A wave of something, some emotion, rolls over her. She’s right to trust Mary Margaret. She can’t believe it, but she is. She’s not like Ingrid or someone from her past who is going to desert her. She’s actually going to stand by her when it counts. Emma’s heart swells a little.

“It’s cold out here, isn’t it?” The queen says suddenly. “Let’s go inside, shall we? Find that cup of tea we discussed?”

“Yes,” Emma manages.

As she stands up, the queen pulls her into a hug and Emma feels herself melt a little. Then they walk inside and the queen talks to a servant and asks them to prepare for them tea in the library.

The library, it turns out, is Emma’s new favorite she’s seen in Misthaven. It’s not as big as the university one, or even the Summer Palace library. Instead, it’s circular and cozy. There are tall windows around the room and the ceiling is painted like the night sky. There is a crackling fire and blue armchairs. Emma has always assumed she’d be a Ravenclaw and this here is exactly how she’d imagine the common room.

They sip their tea together, munching on fresh pumpkin scones, as they discuss books they’ve read and horses and autumn, until the late afternoon cusps on evening. The October sun sinks slightly low in the sky.

“I suppose I should return home,” Emma says.

“Yes,” The queen responds, “I’ll call the car for you.”

“Do you mind if I grab a few books while I’m here?” Emma asks. She wonders if this library will have any more interesting fairy tales volumes.

The queen gives her a smile, with a slight twitch in the corners, “Help yourself my dear.”

The sovereign leaves the room as Emma takes to the shelves. She finds that many of the books here are Princess Emma’s own books. There are many more children’s stories than she’s seen in the Queen’s collection. Despite this, there are still a decent amount of fairy tales scattered through the shelves. Emma helps herself to a pile of books. She finds a volume of Dutch fairy tales that look promising. She’ll have to translate it, but that could be an adventure of its own. The she discovers a book of literary criticism on fairy tale based literature, which is pretty weird to find a kid’s library, but whatever. She adds it to the pile. Then finally, she comes across a thin hard covered book with an black cover embossed in gold reading, “Misthaven Fairy Tales.” Emma flicks open the cover to see an inscription from the queen herself.

“Shall you stop by on Tuesday for tea, as usual?” The queen asks, returning to the room.

Emma hastily shoves the books in her tote bag. She knows she has permission to take books, but this last one seems intimate. She didn’t get a chance to read the inscription, but she has this feeling as if she’s stumbled upon something precious. She nods, “And I’ll bring some things to study after if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, darling,” The queen says. “Thanks for joining me for tea and a ride today.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” Emma says, offering a shy smile. “And for all the kind words.”

“Hey, I think you might be glowing,” Ruby tells Killian, as they swap shifts.

“I’m not glowing,” Killian tells her, though he can feel a blush creeping up his cheeks to the top of his ears.

“You are. Are you pregnant?” She teases, as she tosses her hair up in a ponytail.

He rolls his eyes. Then smiles, because he’s clearly taking up Emma’s mannerisms.

“So did you and Emma bang?” Ruby asks.

“Ruby, no,” He says, “I would do no such banging with Emma.”

“Okay fine, did you and Emma make love?” She says it super dramatically, mimicking his accent.

“No,” He snorts, “We kissed. That’s all.”

“You kissed? Killian that’s great!”

“It was just a one-time thing,” He shrugs.

“Uh huh,” Ruby grins, “That’s how those things always start.”

“Honestly, I respect Emma and if that’s what she wants-“

“Oh please. One kiss from you and I bet she’s dreaming of another.”

“Whatever Rubs,” Killian groans.

“You can doubt me if you want, but I bet you are going to get laid before Christmas,” Ruby remarks.

“It’s just October.”

“Exactly, I’m giving you a wide berth just to be safe.”

“Maybe never say wide berth again,” Killian replies, as he exits the bar area.

“Hey, I did say you were glowing!”

“Good bye,” Killian says, turning promptly away from his ridiculous friend.

He heads out of the bar and into the heart of old town, smiling as he feels the autumn sun on his skin, his eyes adjusting from the darkness of the bar. He knows that Emma is off with the queen and he probably won’t hear from her for a couple hours. But he can’t stop thinking about her and that kiss. It was like everything he dreamt about. And better. God, she’s a marvel.

He decides to wait for her return by finding a book to read. For such a literary city, Misthaven has a woeful number of bookstores. Which of course is even more reason for him to want to open his own- he’ll definitely have the market. So instead, he heads towards one of the many charity shops in town. They’ve been his favorite place to find books, since he arrived in Misthaven years ago. What is the point of spending a fortune on books, when he can adopt orphaned ones for pennies?

He turns into his favorite shop along high street and walks inside. After nodding at the woman at the counter, he heads straight to the back where the books are. As usual, the section is stocked full of paperback mysteries and romance novels. Not that Killian doesn’t like these kind of books, or looks down upon them, but today he wants something classic. Emma is so well read, and while Killian knows that he isn’t too shabby himself, he feels the need to prove himself regardless. He studies the shelves and eventually decides on Jane Eyre. He’s never read it before, but knows enough about literature to think that the gothic themes might strike a nice autumnal tone.

He purchases the book and heads outside. It’s nice enough that he can take a seat outside Mamie’s, reading and drinking coffee in the autumn air. He’s drawn in immediately by the young foundling girl and her lonely childhood. He knows a thing or two about lonely childhoods. He’s so entranced in the book that he startles when his phone rings.

“Hello?” He asks, frowning at the unfamiliar number.

“Is this Mister Killian Jones?” A voice asks with an English accent.

“It is,” He answers.

“I’ve got some new for you,” The voice replies.

And the news makes Killian drop his phone.

Tagging some pals: @sambethe @lenfaz @pocket-anon @the-corsair-and-her-quill@kmomof4@kiwistreetswan@princesseslikepirates @timeless-love-story@shady-swan-jones@katie-dub@1handedpiratewithadrinkingprob@midnightswans

#cs ff #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #cs fic #cs mc #cs modern au #cs au #cs mafia #cs crew

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carriejonesbooks · 7 years ago

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So, I have to go to Book Expo America at the end of this week. If you are not some official publishing person you’re probably like, “What is Book Expo America?” It’s this big huge massive (insert another large-sounding adjective here) industry thing where there are:

1. Publishers 2. Authors 3. Book sellers 4. Publicists

And almost all of them are well dressed.

There is the issue! I am from Maine…. Okay, I live in Northern Maine. How northern? When people from Glamour Magazine came up here to do a photo shoot with Megan Kelley Hall and myself (for our Dear Bully anthology) they made us DRESS IN LL BEAN CLOTHES!!!!!

Yes, even Glamour knew that it is not glamorous up here.

Sigh.

Megan still looked good. Me? The hair stylist/make-up person kept complaining about my hair, and how my nose turned red in the cold, and I felt so badly for her because she was used to super models or My Little Pony (really – she was the stylist for My Little Pony) and then she got stuck with me.

Anyway, I was thinking about BEA and authors who are always beautiful and poised and funny and lovely. And I have decided I need to somehow magically channel these authors at BEA so I don’t look like a hick from Maine or like, you know, I’ve never actually interacted with other actual human beings before.

But pretty much everything in my wardrobe has paint stains on it, holes, or long white dog fur.

She always blames me. There are lint rollers out there for a reason. Geesh.

I basically come across as either an eccentric old-money professor or homeless.

You may think I have no reason to be panicky, but I’m going to repost what happened to me the last time I went to BEA, and maybe you’ll understand.

ONCE AGAIN FOR THOSE WHO MISSED IT BEFORE – HERE IS THE HORRIBLE INCIDENT OF ME AT BEA LAST TIME (Taken from the original blog post of horror): So, yep, I had my skirt fall off (YES! PAST MY KNEES!) when I got out of the taxi today! Oh, Britney…oh Lindsey…oh Paris… I so feel your pain. Fortunately, there were no paparrazzi, just my cab driver (His eyes got really big) and a father with his eight-year-old son (WHO WILL NEVER BE THE SAME!). They were standing right there, waiting for the taxi. The little boy gasped! GASPED!!!! I have marred him for life.

I then realized I should not be let out of Maine.

So I started yanking my skirt up with my hand while trying to: a. Pay taxi driver guy b. not die c. juggle three massive bags full of ARCS d. not worry about that little boy’s therapy bills.

It was then that I realized that hotel security cameras probably totally caught the skirt fall action.

I thanked God (and pretty much every potential deity in existence) that I am not famous and therefore not worthy enough to have the skirt DISASTER image blasted all over the internet.

I then hid in the hotel room, vowing never to come out again.

So, yeah. I don’t want that to happen again.

If you would like to see me in unsuitable clothes, check out the Lerner Booth on Friday, June 1 from 11:30 to noon. I’ll be there with a spy who was also a catcher. 🙂

WRITING NEWS

Yep, it’s the part of the blog where I talk about my books and projects because I am a writer for a living, which means I need people to review and buy my books or at least spread the word about them.

I’m super good at public image and marketing for nonprofits but I have a much harder time with marketing myself.

So, please buy one of my books. 🙂 The links about them are all up there in the header on top of the page on my website carriejonesbooks.blog . There are young adult series, middle grade fantasy series, stand-alones for young adults and even picture book biographies.

Time Stoppers

Flying

Moe Berg

Write! Submit! Support! Begins Again in July!

“It’s not easy to create a thriving writing career in the children’s industry, but what if you didn’t have to do it alone? Write. Submit. Support is a six-month program designed by author and Writing Barn Founder Bethany Hegedus. Classes are led by top creatives in the children’s industry field; they’ll give you the tips and tools you need to take both your manuscripts and your developing career to the next level. Think of it as an MFA in craft with a certificate in discovering (or recovering) your writer joy! – Writing Barn “

And more about the class I specifically teach? It is right here.

Here is what current students are saying:

Carrie is all strengths. Seriously. She’s compassionate, funny, zesty, zany, insightful, honest, nurturing, sharp, and…Wow, that’s a lot of adjectives. But really, I couldn’t praise Carrie enough as a mentor. I’ve long respected her writing, but being talented at something doesn’t automatically mean you will be a great mentor. Carrie just happens to be one of those rare cases of extreme talent and excellent coaching. Aside from the specific feedback she offers, she also writes letters in response to the process letter and analyses. These letters have been so impactful for me as I writer that I plan to print them and hang them up. Creepy? Maybe. But they are so inspiring. And that, in the most long-winded way possible, is how I would summarize Carrie as a mentor—inspiring.

Dogs Are Smarter Than People

And finally, the podcast DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE is still chugging along. Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness. We’re sorry we laugh so much… sort of.

Look, Mom! It’s a podcast.

Book Expo America is Coming and I have Nothing to Wear So, I have to go to Book Expo America at the end of this week. If you are not some official publishing person you’re probably like, “What is Book Expo America?” It’s this big huge massive (insert another large-sounding adjective here) industry thing where there are:

#amwriting #bea #bookexpoamerica #carriejones #maine #maineauthors #maineclothes #moeberg #writerinsecurity #writertravel #writinglife

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monkey-network · 7 years ago

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Two Cent Riffs: My Little Pony Movie, BAYBEE

#BackAtItAgain #TSPOILERS #PonyCinemassacre

Julien: Why is it “The Movie”? It can just be “My Little Pony”. We all should know this version and the superior version that was the 80s. Roy: Excuse me? Julien: Hey, the Smooze song made that movie for me.

Roy: Man, I’ll never stop liking stain glass windows. Julien: Hold up. Twilight has wings? ...Okay, I have missed a lot apparently. Roy: Yeah, but it’s nothing to worry............. Julien: I can sense a pause. What’s up? Roy: Oh, I’m just getting flashbacks....of people bitching online [shudders]

Julien: AH YES, MOVE the sun, and MOVE it back. Roy: Doesn’t seem like a big deal for this celebration. We’re just depriving people from some possibly needed sunlight and fucking with the tides to sooth the feng shui of it. Julien: Can I call the “Pony Privilege” card?

Julien: Huh, I forgot Applejack existed. Roy: She’s a main character, bruh. Julien: Yeah, it the background. Am I right lads, or am I right lads? Dom: “You’re all right, lad.” Julien: Cheers lad.

Roy: Guess we know which couple’s getting the focus this time. Julien: Do we really have to ship right now? Roy: It’s been 7 years, dude. Fans practically learned about “shipping” thanks to this show. Julien: Hmm...that sounds pitiful, but I’ve wanted Princess Bubblegum to melt on Marceline since the beginning so what can I say?

Julien: Looks like Pinkie had her climax.

Roy: Okay, I’m all for Sia pony here (does have a lovely voice), but are there any rapper ponies? Julien: They’re an underground niche of pony musicians after 2Pon and Biggie bit the bullet. Roy: What about DJ Pon-3? Julien: Dub is not rap, brother.

Roy: Bowser’s back?! Julien: And we’re only what...12 minutes in? That’s an academy record. Shit, this movie’ll be over in a blink.

Julien: Okay, I’m liking this new villain here. Design wise, very coordinated. Color scheme is on point. Roy: I just wonder how she’ll be forgiven. Julien: Come on, man. Villains aren’t always meant to be redeemed. Roy: Ye, you need watch the rest of the show.

Roy: Oh no, all the other 3D piloted ships are slowly coming this way. Julien: Yeah, Futurama’s done better.

Julien: Oh shit, that is a fucking sweep down and over Pele kick. Roy: She would be great in WWE.

Julien: Well there goes two of the most powerful ponies in this series. Roy: Well hold on. Maybe Celestia, and Luna are only powerful in the fields or cutie marks they’re given. Like yeah, they’re powerful, but only in raising the sun and moon and whatever Cadence does. So really, they probably couldn’t beat Tempest’s rock spells as much as any powerful unicorn could have... Julien: So, they were useless to begin with? Roy: Kinda, yeah.

Roy: Hey, it’s Crissy. Julien: Wha? I thought her named was Derpy. Why Crissy? Roy: Oh no, Derpy is her name; won’t deny that. But Crissy’s just short for Criss Cross, like her eyes that are the ONE DEFINING TRAIT FOR HER EXISTENCE. It feels like a better name, you know? Julien:...You got me there. That does sound better.

Julien: WELL, after a daring escape via a gigantic waterfall, now they’re on their way to go seek the hippos. Roy: Hippogriffs. Julien: Goddammit man! *sigh* I mean what if they were hippos and I could actually see some awesome hippos in this movie or show?....Fuck, you know?! Hippos are cool. They’re big, strong, and awesome and you jus- *sigh* tch, you’re a bastard. Roy: Jesus man, I’m sorry. Julien: No, I’m sorry but it’s like...I just think hippos are neat is all.

Roy: Oh snap. It’s Ray Donovan. Julien: Okay, this may be a screenshot, but I could already tell Liev Schreiber was tap dancing for his check and was just having a blast doing so; like Jason Mamoa in the Justice League movie.

Julien: How I feel about Michael Pena. Roy: Come on, he’s got his good roles. Julien: Name one that’s memorable. Roy: Well..........................................................

Julien: Woo, that place looks like shit. How come the ponies haven’t help them out, they could spare the resources. Roy: Maybe the town didn’t want any help? Julien: Dude, no. How can just ignore a town that looks broken down, industrial, probably impoverished, smoggy, with some pretty disgusting water surrounding it? HOW can any pony worth their riches just ignore this practically desolate area while continuously celebrating whatever they want? Roy: Let’s....never mind all that.

Roy: Oh no, 1/5 of the fanbase. ⁽ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵒᵏᶦⁿᵍ. ᵀʰᶦˢ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶦˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷⁿˢᶠᵒˡᵏ ˡᶦᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᶜʳᵒʷᵈᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒⁿᶦᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʸ ᵃⁿᵈ/ᵒʳ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ. ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᶦˡᵉ ʷᵉ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉʳ ᶠᵃⁿˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵈᵉᵈᶦᶜᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜʰᶦˢᵉ, ᵗʰᶦˢ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᶦˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶦᵈᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠˡᵃᶜᶜᶦᵈ ᵖᵘⁿᶜʰˡᶦⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᶦᵖᵗ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ. ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ ᵃ ᵏᶦᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵘʳᵉ ʷʰᶦˡˢᵗ ʷᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᶦⁿᵘᵉ.⁾

Awwwww, she’s sleepy

Julien: Oh boy, we got attractive felines in this universe. Roy: Eh, furry love aside, I’m more attracted to the comic’s nubian felines

Roy: Hello “Friend like me” Julien: Oye, don’t go pointing out the better things others have done. We’ll be here all week.

Roy: Can I say, “Suggestive?” Julien: Hey, they’re old enough to get some pussy in their life.

Julien: Okay, best character in the movie. Roy: Eh, I’m not convinced.

Roy: Okay, now I am.

Julien: That...is gonna cost ‘em. Roy: Pfft, like they’re gonna pay for it. Julien: I thought the ignorant rich of America were annoying.

Julien: Okay, there’s one thing that’ll never make sense here. So they’re oppressed and they work under the Storm King’s rule and they couldn’t be pirates. But it takes ONE song and they decide “Fuck it. We’re pirates again.” Roy: Have you ever had a song dedicated to helping you get your confidence and groove back?

[Gasp] The lesbian call.

Roy: I love how they play dramatic angry music over the colorful destruction that is their ship.

Julien: Hey, this reminds me of my Steven Universe fanfic. Roy: What? Julien: I dreamed and started a fanfic about Connie being an Arcane Knight that is seeking the original gems that helped salvage the land from the tyrannical Homeworld generals and this was where Lapis resided because she was originally master of nature but went into hiding after she, Peridot (master of metal) and Amethyst (master of animals) had a fallout.

Julien: When she goes so deep, she’s feeling your sunken place

Roy: WE GOT OUT THE MERCH SELLER, BABY! Julien: WE GOT THE MONEYMAKEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Roy: Now to be fair, she was trying to save her civilization while her friends were fucking around. Julien: Yeah, stealing from a civilization that suffered from the same enemies they’re dealing with now. Why didn’t the ponies help the hippogriffs when they clearly could have? This feels racist in a way. Roy: Specist? Julien: Yes. Thank you.

Julien: Okay, I can see where both sides are coming from, you know? However, I have a neutralizer that, possibly(?), erases both sides of this argument. How did it take them (the ponies) this long to try and stop the Storm King’s reign when it started to affect them personally? Where were any of them when the Storm King’s armada took over the Hippogriffs, the pirates, that city? I mean, I wouldn’t worry about this so much if the movie wasn’t so full of its “Friendship Solves All” theme to drive home how this will resolve when it could’ve been resolved LONG AGO! Roy: Jesus dude, it’s not that big a deal here. Julien: NO BRO, it is a big deal. Because they made 4 comics, so much merch, got good players like Sia, Liev, Emily Blunt, etc. all for movie that barely tries to integrate its new universe to a series that’s been around for 7 fucking years!

Ah good, we’re entered the third act.

Roy: Song time. Julien: I’ll allow it. Tempest is honestly the only best thing about this movie. Also, was Emily Blunt in Chicago???

youtube

Julien: So...let me get this straight. This girl stood up to a fucking bear and she gets shunned for her suffering? Fuck those kids! Roy: Yeah, I can see where she’d want revenge.

Roy: Okay movie, these Hippogriff designs are good. You live this time. Julien: This time? It’s still getting the slaughter, honey. [revs chainsaw]

Julien: You know Twilight fucked up when Sia pony is staring you down. Roy: With what eyes? Julien: Eye. Roy: I didn’t know you were Scottish.

I won’t question how they could breath in there.

Roy: Aw jeez, she was out for blood today. Julien: He’s getting creamed out there.

Julien: JESUS CHRIST, they brought flames to the party. Seriously, they are burning these beasts alive without fear.

One got consumed in the flames. Like, damn movie.

Roy: Okay, I get that Storm King’s a playful villain, but now he’s just monkeying around. Julien: Liev just wanted his paycheck. He’s doing just as good as everyone.

Roy: Looks like Pinkie Pie is on her a game this time. Julien: When she’s not yelling all her lines. Am I right lads, or am I right lads? Dom: “You’re all right, lad!” Julien: Cheers, lad.

Roy: Betrayal, I never knew could the Storm King could do such a thing. Julien: All I can think of is Twilight yeeting her into the cloud.

Gone with the wind.

Julien: Jesus christ. Roy: Exactly.

Roy: HA. He didn’t expect somebody to jump in the way of the bomb, only to then tag them and infect them with the spell as well. This doesn’t make sense in a way. Julien: Who cares, he’s fucking dead.

That’s right. Dead. On Screen. Full High Definition. YOUR MOVE, “DISNEY”.

“YEAH, WHO WANNA RIDE THE WHITE THUNDER?!”

Roy: So wait, what if Tempest actually got her horn back? Julien: Mass Genocide, everybody in Equestria incinerated; but hey: SPARKLY, COLORFUL EXPLOSIONS RIGHT?!

Julien: And that’s the My Little Pony Movie, ladies and gentlemen. Final thoughts? Roy: Fizzlepop Berrytwist is one of the worst names you could ever give your child. But other than that, I enjoyed what I got, mediocrity and all. Hell, I’m just glad there’s a 2D animated film in American theaters again. Could spell potential for the 16 mil. it earned at the Box Office. 👍👍 Julien: I thought it was alright and could’ve done better for their story beats than taking stuff from other better movies. A fun romp nonetheless.👍👎 Well, what now? Roy: Well, it’s Halloween. Wanna howl at the moon together? Julien: Sure.

#mlp #mlp:fim #my little pony #mlp movie #my little pony the movie #jokes #roy macintosh #and friend #tv recap #awesome #ye #Two Cent Riffs #rifftrax

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

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5 Stupid Things We Need To Stop Clicking On

We are living through the final gasps of the Information Age. Experts estimate that 62 percent of all information we now receive is deliberately false, and that includes the percentage and experts I made up at the start of this sentence. The sad truth is, most of you will never have the critical thinking or research skills to know what’s real, and that will only make you more sure about the wrong things your stupid ass believes. The good news is that this article isn’t about that shit. The fake news fight is over, and stupid won. No, this article is about the dumb things we all keep falling for — even you, the genius who chose the right political side and religion.

Pointlessly Insane Products Are Not That At All

Last year, Tiffany & Co. started selling the Sterling Silver Tin Can, an empty can that costs $1,000. You’ll notice that this is far more than you’d normally pay for soupless garbage. To be clear, this wasn’t some tin can that once held Prince’s final green beans. It’s only a can. As an artistic statement, it was 50 years stale, and as a money-making scheme, it was somewhere between a portable diarrhea box and that same product without a lid. It’s the kind of idea that would make the other Saved By The Bell writers say, “Look, if you’re not ready to come back to work, take more time off to deal with the death of your son.” The point I’m making is that it’s hard not to comment on Tiffany’s silly can, and that’s more appealing to Tiffany & Co. than when we comment on how the people who mined their products all died of slavery.

“Darling, I was part of many souls transcending penetration to transform a utilitarian men’s room into an installment of signature Tiffany oeuvre.” — this Tiffany copywriter explaining to his wife why there are seven colors of pubic hair in his underpants