Apr 20, 2019
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Here she is! Please please PLEASE let me know what you think of this one! I’m nervous!
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Here she is! Please please PLEASE let me know what you think of this one! I’m nervous!
Do you need more prompts? Ali and Ash get Logan after going on two years in New York
#puppyprobs
“Babe.”
“No.”
“Babe.”
Ali groaned, listening to the faint scratching sounds coming from the kitchen, pulling her pillow over her face as the whining cry began to emanate through the apartment.
“It’s your turn,” Ashlyn said, curled in the fetal position around a king sized pillow. She tucked in closer, shaking her ass back at Ali. “Better hurry before he pees.”
Resigned to her fate, Ali pushed the blankets off of her so she would feel less compelled to fall back asleep. From the kitchen, their eight week old puppy Logan sounded a long, keening cry. Ali sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Fuck,” she said, stomping her feet onto the carpet. “It’s snowing.”
“Mmm. Boots.” It only took ten seconds before Ashlyn’s side of the bed was filled with soft snores.
Ali padded into the kitchen while pulling on her sweatpants, hopping on one foot and nearly slipping. Finally, she came around the corner and saw the twenty pound Cane Corso puppy sitting back on her haunches, tail beating against the bottom of the cage.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Ali cooed, reaching to unlock the cage and pulling Logan into her arms. “Let’s go potty.”
Five minutes later, Ali was deeply regretting the choice she’d made at that farm in Virginia. She’d been taken in by the big puppy paws and the sweet smell on her scruff; she was the most adorable one of the litter, her belly protruding with an excess of kibble and treats. Now, a few weeks later, Logan was sitting stubbornly on the sidewalk as the snow fell around them, hushing the sounds of the city.
“Logan, I swear,” Ali said, tugging on the leash. “If you poop, I will legitimately go and buy you everything you could ever want.”
Logan stared at her, resolute. Still, she sat down in the snow. All Ali could think of in her sleep deprived mind was her warm bed and Ashlyn curled next to her. Alas, she was on the street at what felt like 4 in the morning, waiting for a stubborn puppy to poop.
She thought about Ashlyn, thought about her sleeping. It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine a few years down the road, Ali’s breasts swollen with milk as their newborn child cried from their crib down the hall. Inevitably, Ashlyn would sleep through that as well, citing the fact that she lacked the bottle necessary.
Ali smiled to herself, imagining Ashlyn dancing with a baby girl barely six months old. She saw a big bow on her head and a cute onesie, laid against Ashlyn’s chest as she swayed her hips along with the radio. Ali would wake from her place, watch her wife and child and thank God for her happiness.
‘Wife’? Ali thought, ‘child?’ Wasn’t that a bit much? But it had been over two years since they’d left the airport together, wrapped around each other and understanding without conversation that they were back together. Surely, at 28, it wasn’t beyond the scope of realism to imagine children and a diamond ring.
And Ashlyn was worth it — stubborn and full of pride, Ali still felt like a million dollars every time she’d look at her. Ashlyn never left it to imagination how much she loved Ali, something she ever knew that she craved.
A small yip took her out of reverie. Logan was standing next to a small pile of poop, tail wagging.
“Oh yes,” Ali said, scooping her into her arms. “Who is a good girl?”
As she walked back upstairs, she allowed herself to dream more. Allowed herself to picture two tiny babies sleeping in a bedroom down the hall. Suddenly, two years didn’t seem that short of a time at all.
We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly. - Sam Keen
Baby, Pull Me Closer
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571073?view_full_work=true
Full Soundtrack: https://open.spotify.com/user/rasharoo/playlist/1QGvNN9VYHpEb0nPL5bzrE?si=gf7DwpTeQD6_j2oRntiBjA
Ali and ash talk about marriage
It long so it’s under a cut.
“So, I have a question.”
Ali stood up from leaning over the sink, splashing water on her face. “What?”
“I have a question.”
Ali leaned out from the bathroom, wiping her cheek with a wash rag. “What’s that?”
Ashlyn looked up from her iPad, tapping the pencil on the screen. “Over or under two carats?”
“Carrots?” Ali asked, splashing more water on her face. “What am I? Bugs Bunny?”
“No,” Ashlyn said, her voice echoing through the room and into the bathroom. “I mean as a ring.”
Ali stood up at the sink, staring at her own reflection. Surely….
“Wait… are you —“
“Come here,” Ashlyn said, patting the comforter next to her.
Ali smiled, unsure. “Um…”
“Just come here dummy.”
Ali walked into the bedroom, passing by Logan’s bed on the floor where the huge year old dog was sleeping. She leaned down to give her a good belly rub as she looked at Ashlyn, gauging her reaction. “What are you talking about?”
Ashlyn turned the iPad around and Ali only had to get a glimpse of that Tiffany blue. “Ashlyn.”
“Ali.” Ashlyn looked back down at her iPad. “I think you’re an emerald, right?”
Ali sank down onto the bed, leaning against her legs. “Erm.”
“Or,” Ashlyn started, tapping the screen a few times before turning the screen back toward Ali, “Are you a princess cut?”
Ali took the iPad, looking down at the picture on the screen. It was an absolutely gorgeous ring, without question; a large, princess cut center diamond with smaller stones on either side of the band. In the display, it was matched with an adorned wedding band, the platinum twisted together into an elegant knot. Ali could feel her heart beating faster, thrumming against her ribcage.
“So what do you think?”
Ali turned her head to look at her, smiling softly. “I think we’re talking about something kind of big.”
Ashlyn looked back at the screen, her eyes going wide. “I mean, not too big though, right? I mean, I guess I could back down a little, but at least a carat and a half.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Ali said, swatting her arm. She let her hand slide down to take Ashlyn’s, chewing her lip with a smile while looking at her. “We’re talking about this, huh?”
“Mhm,” Ashlyn said, returning a soft smile. She rubbed the back of Ali’s hand with her thumb, reaching out with the other to hold her cheek. “I know we’ve ... You know, back in - in Colorado when --”
Ali squeezed her hand reassuringly. “This is different,” she said.
“It is,” Ashlyn said, her eyes earnest. “Ali, I’ve loved you for years now, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to love you for all of the ones I have left.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be down on one knee?” Ali asked with a grin, feeling butterflies in her stomach.
“The bed is more comfortable,” Ashlyn said, and when Ali’s eyes went wide she chuckled. “No, this is not that moment.”
“But we’re talking about that moment,” Ali said, looking back down at the picture. “And we’re talking about all of the moments after.”
“If that’s what you want -- all of those moments with me.”
Ali took the iPad off of Ashlyn’s lap, sliding it to the other side of the bed as she maneuvered to straddle her. They sat up together, Ali wrapping her arms around Ashlyn’s shoulders and kissing her forehead, nose, both cheeks and finally her mouth. She lingered, imagining a moment in the future where they would kiss like this in front of a priest and their family and friends.
Ali pressed her forehead to Ashlyn’s, whispering softly, “I want all of them.”
They stayed that way for a long time, holding each other and talking softly about their ideas for a wedding, what to put on a registry, and where to go on their honeymoon. Ali could hardly remember how it felt to be afraid of this idea, committing her life to being Ashlyn’s wife, and instead only felt like it couldn’t come soon enough.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
this is an extra bit, I wrote it for someone back when I first posted chapter 15.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
two more to go!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
penultimate chapter -- also very dirty.
They go back to Coney Island for a day date
Coney Island pt II
“Come on,” Ali said, pulling on Ashlyn’s arm.
“Mmmm, I don’t think so.” Ashlyn looked up at the slingshot mechanism, her mouth drawn in a grimace.
“Are you afraid of heights baby?” Ali leaned into her side, licking her earlobe.
“Not heights so much as falling from them.” Ashlyn frowned again, leaning away from her girlfriend. “Why can’t we just ride the Cyclone and be done with it?”
“It’s not that scary,” Ali said, taking Ashlyn by the hand and pulling her to the gate. “Just hold my hand and you’ll be fine.”
“I’d love to say something really cheesy about how with you I’m not afraid but honestly, I might piss my pants.”
Ali handed the attendant thirty dollars, barely stopping as she pulled Ashlyn towards the car. “Come on!”
They strapped in, waiting as the attendant went through a lazy motion of checking the belts and their restraints. Ashlyn noticed how stoned he seemed and wondered how likely it would be for the ropes to snap and send them into space.
“Is this safe?” Ashlyn asked the guy, taking no comfort in how he shrugged. “We’re gonna die.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Ali asked, gripping onto the bars.
“Back on solid ground,” Ashlyn grumbled, feeling a clawing in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, she felt bile in her throat. “Babe,” she said, her mouth going dry. “Babe, I can’t do this.”
“I’ve got you,” Ali said, reaching over and taking her hand. “We’re gonna do it together.”
Ashlyn gripped hard, making a face. “That sounds like a really cheesy equivocation.”
The ball they were in lowered down into the ground and Ashlyn found herself looking up at the night sky. The feeling in her stomach was going at hyper speed.
“Cheesy or not,” Ali said, folding her fingers in between Ashlyn’s, “it’s us.”
The thought was comforting, at least until Ashlyn heard a loud, short screech and knew she was about to be launched into the sky.