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#(unconditional) love. i want my whole future safe and warm and now or at least the ability to trust it will exist which is also called hope.
pepprs · 1 year
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i wish i’d kept pushing the point (<- vagueposting). im so tired i’m hitting a wall. but why is the answer to feeling bottomlessly lonely just to love myself and be loved by myself? isn’t that only more loneliness?
#purrs#i know being by myself is not aloneness. but like seriously are you actually serious that there is no one coming to save me? that I have to#walk around with this giant gaping wound forever and no one will be able yo close it? i need total nurturance and comfort badly and to have#any less than total is.. well i don’t want to say it’s as bad as having none at all because obviously it’s not true. but it’s still bad. it#makes it harder to ask for more when you already have some and have reached the limit of what you can ask for. i just feel bottomlessly#lonely. i know things will get better. but what i really need is a long hug and a good cry in someone’s arms. not isolating myself in a#cabin for a week (though i know i desperately need that too). like we’re human beings and we can do that for each other so why don’t we? why#can’t we fix each other? why can’t we be nurturing like that and fill the voids for people who have them. and i know it’s rich coming from m#me bc iam skittish like a horse around emotions and also that it’s pitifully expected from me bc i am reading too much into normal experien#nces most people have. but how am i supposed to just accept that i didn’t get the love i needed (even if im romanticizing m*therlove lmao) a#and then move on as if that’s fine? how can i just snap my fingers and be an autonomous adult when ive spent years accruing psychological#damage with the most limited kind of cushioning? when every second brings with it a potential jab to my River of Pain nerve? idk.#i was deeply violently depressed abt this stuff earlier this week but tonight im just quietly sad. i want the stability and certainty of#(unconditional) love. i want my whole future safe and warm and now or at least the ability to trust it will exist which is also called hope.#i don’t want to be alone and wretched anymore.
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ververa · 4 years
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Like Mothers, Like Daughter
A/N: You have no idea how nervous I am right now, but I said I’ll post the first part, so I’m keeping my word, even though I feel like it’s not good enough. It has been rewritten at least 10 times and this is only some kind of introduction. For now it’s just my precious little Ellie. There’s no Mildred and no Wilhemina yet. But they’ll appear soon, I promise. Just bear with me, please 🙏🏼 Many thanks to @awildgothappeared​!!! Thank you so much for helping me with this series and thank you for convincing me to post this part!!! I’d probably never decide to do it if it hadn’t been for you Stevie <3  This story truly means a lot to me and all three of them - Ellie, Millie and Mina have a special place in my heart. They’re my new holy trinity. I put a lot of effort into this story - that’s why it’s taking me so long. 
Anyways, I hope you will all enjoy it!!! And just in case, I am sorry if this is shit, cause I actually sort of feel like it is 🙈 Also if anyone has any thoughts/suggestions/opinions do let me know!
Words count: ~3k
Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​, @welshdragonrawr​, @saucy-sapphic​, @yang12e​, @xixxiixx​, @pradababey​
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Seemingly nothing had changed. Life was going on as it used to before, its usual way. Some governess would wake Ellie up at 7am, it wouldn’t be the same one who was there the previous evening. No, because for some reason the former one wasn’t suitable for the position. None of them were, because it was truly impossible to measure up to Mrs Staple’s expectations. Ellie knew, because she had been trying to ever since she had learned to speak. It didn’t matter how many languages she mastered or how good her grades were or that she became a champion of the fencing team. The woman, she was supposed to call her mother, would never be satisfied, the same as she would never be happy with the work all those governesses did. Some of them were fired, because they truly were useless, others were just unlucky and had a horrible timing - it really was an unpleasant experience to get in a way of annoyed Mrs Staple‒
Ellie stopped getting attached to them a long time ago. Not that she actually had a chance to. In fact, she didn’t even bother to remember their names any more and decided to give them numbers instead. Though sometimes, she did wonder where they find all of them. How many well-qualified governesses could be there in town? Where did they all come from?
That morning, the governess was bearing a name “241”. Quite impressive. Ellie thought as she was brushing her teeth. But it wouldn't last for too long. Perhaps it was only until the evening or maybe afternoon - depending on Lillian’s mood. And then the poor woman would have to leave, quicker than she appeared, just like 240 other women before her. That's how it worked with her mother. The demonic, callous woman really knew no limits.
Ellie was barely twelve, yet she was well aware what motives drove her mother's behavior. Each action had a perfectly explainable reason. The desire for power, the need of being in control. Though, the truth was, Lillian wasn't in a place to be a decision making one. She had never actually had a say and she knew, for a fact, that she would never have. She wasn't even close to it. She wasn't Staple, not by blood. And yet, despite this, she always introduced herself using her husband's family name - being boastful and vain as ever, nearly driving her only child apoplectic each time.
Lillian wanted to matter so badly, even if just for a moment, but still her actions, words, commands meant less than nothing. Even Ellie, though still a child, had more power than the cruel woman. And that's why Lillian hated her. She hated her only daughter, because Ellie was born Staple, she was born to the purple and carried an incredible power within her small body–
And all that appeared to be a good enough reason to terrorize 240 babysitters, who would not be needed at all if Lillian could just bring herself to care about her only child in the first place. But she couldn't and she didn't. She never wanted to have children, definitely not a girl. Maybe a son. Maybe–
If Ellie was a boy… maybe she'd be able to care, to love her child. But even then it wouldn't be the unconditional type of love. It would be yet another transaction, the tying agreement, which would, of course, be in her interest. Just like her marriage and all the relations within the family. But Ellie wasn't a boy and she didn't matter as much as a male successor would and so Lillian didn't care. She did what was expected of her, she gave birth to the next successor, and that was it. All she was willing to do and there was no way she'd put any more effort into it. She gave her husband what he wanted and was the least bit interested in her child's future. Lillian was too selfish to care, too busy fighting for her own position to even think about Elizabeth.
Ellie's father always told her that everyone had a little bit of the light and dark in them. People were complex like a cosmic system, both inside and outside. She liked that comparison.
"None of us are just black or white, or always right and never wrong. We have a universe within ourselves. We all have a little bit of the sun and moon inside. Everyone has good and bad forces working with them, within them and against them"
She believed it, but as much as she tried - she couldn't find any kind of light within her mother. There was nothing, just coldness and hatred - guiding her through life, leaving her blind to everything, but her selfish needs and whims.
"Elizabeth," her teacher's voice would bring her back to reality. And the day would carry on, as usual.
Ellie would participate in her classes and then have lunch downstairs. She would eat alone, as her father would be still at work and Lillian wouldn’t even bother to join the girl, preferring her own company over watching her little defeater, a perfect copy of her husband. Or maybe if they were lucky enough, the governess would keep her company. Though even if she would, even if somehow lady “241” would manage to keep her position and call it a day - Ellie probably wouldn’t decide to talk to her anyways. Why would she, knowing that the woman would soon disappear from her life forever?
But Ellie didn’t mind being on her own at all. She already got used to it. She had been a homeschooler since… always. She had been under lock and key her whole life, because that was their way of keeping her safe. That’s what they told her at least and she accepted it. That was the only way of living Ellie knew and she completely settled into it. She didn't ask, she didn't question their motives. She let it be, because there was nothing she could do. She didn't want to do anything.
She liked her life, well, she thought so leastways. She had nothing to complain about. She was safe, warm, had her books and her piano. Her teacher, constantly-changing governesses and servants provided some kind of company - preventing her from loosening her grip on reality completely. Her life wasn’t all that bad. Yes. It could have been worse after all. And homeschooling wasn’t the end of the world, right? It had both positive and negative sides, as everything - just like her father said. And that’s what Ellie was focused on.
After lunch her lessons would continue. The teacher would ask about some mathematical equations and she would solve all of them, before unerringly answering all subsequent questions. Ellie was a clever child and a fast learner. She was also stubborn and aimed at mastering whatever she wanted to perfection. She had to be good enough, she had to measure up, prove herself. And she was doing her best, steadfastly.
Everyone was foretelling her a bright future. She could do anything she wanted, those who didn’t know certain things were convinced of it. And those who knew the truth, the reality, the true meaning hidden behind the Staple’s name and the family roots - remained silent. Ellie was only a child after all, besides no one wanted to have a problem with her father, or even worse - with her grandfather. But they didn’t need to talk about it. Ellie, as a highly intelligent girl that she undoubtedly was, knew. She knew her future was doomed, because she was a prisoner, just like her father and grandfather, even her mother and the rest of the family. They were all prisoners, shackled with invisible cuffs - the life-long deal their ancestors had made ages before. They were prisoners to the nonreversible decision.
It may seem quite dramatic, sad even to some people, but they didn’t understand it. They never cared enough to comprehend the deep meaning behind the family’s actions, perhaps too ignorant or narrow-minded to decipher it. But they didn’t matter. Their opinions were irrelevant. 
Ellie never had a problem with that. She never truly allowed herself to think about the future, but she didn’t need to worry, not just yet. She had her father - her guardian and friend - who was there to keep her safe. He always knew how to make everything better. How to fix what appeared to be unfixable. And he was there at all times. He was there to hold his little girl, the apple of his eye. He was there to teach her and guide her. To grant Ellie the love and approval she couldn’t receive from Lillian. He was there, so that she could have a happy and peaceful childhood. And all that made Ellie feel lucky. Not all kids had what she did. Not all children were able to experience this kind of love. She knew. Elias told her about those children - left on their own, without anyone who would look after them, or love them the way he loved her. Whenever she remembered all those stories something inside her hurt. Her heart - it ached, every time Elias was telling her about that one little girl.
Ellie undeniably was compassionate and sensitive, her soul was still pure and free, untainted. She didn’t have to bear the burden of her decision, she didn’t have to carry it on her own like her father. That’s why she couldn’t understand his breaking down. She couldn’t figure out the reason for his tears, when she gave him one of her teddy bears, saying he should give it to the little girl. Ellie couldn’t know. Not back then.
And then, when her lessons were over, their butler - Leonard would take her to the fencing classes. That was the only time Ellie was out, freed from the thin walls of the castle they lived in. She always cherished every second of it, because every moment of freedom was like an incredible adventure.
She had been training for years, because fencing made her stronger and showed a certain set of thinking skills. The classes would go great, as always. Ellie as a wonderful fencer would win some clash, but she wouldn't even think about it, already engulfed by anticipation of the evening.
Ellie’s favourite part of the day was dinner. No, not the dinner itself - the whole process of it. The anticipation and preparations. Their servants would be preparing everything, putting a lot of effort into details, so as to avoid getting in trouble with Lillian. She was fabled for her choleric nature and no one wanted to be reprimanded. That's why they always did their best, striving to meet Lillian's expectations and avoid unhinging her.
The table had to be polished until it gleamed. Table covers had to be clean and smoothed. Dinnerware and cutlery had to be polished to a high gloss. And napkins… napkins had to have the right colors, because colors couldn't clash. After all those years Ellie learned the process by heart. She remembered everything, every little detail and the order of all those actions.
A plate in the middle. A napkin on the left, then forks - salad fork and dinner fork. The right side was where a dinner knife, dinner spoon and soup spoon were placed. And then glasses - a water glass and wine glass - on the right, above the spoons. It wasn't all that hard to remember. It definitely was far more complicated when it came to the formal dinner place setting, but when it was just the three of them - Ellie and her parents - the servants didn't have to worry about it. Informal setting was enough, unless Lillian decided differently.
By the time the table was set, Ellie would be fully in on her anticipation mood. After all it wasn't about the dinner or setting the table, it was about her father finally coming back home. Elizabeth would wait impatiently - pulled up to comfortably sit on the windowsill of the living room window. She did it every evening. Awaiting her father's car to turn into the driveway. Waiting for him to cross the doorstep and take her into his arms as he always did. She anticipated having dinner with him and then spending hours on talking and listening to his stories.
Ellie waited. One hour passed. Then another. Lillian gave up and ordered someone to bring her dinner upstairs, as she wasn't going to eat with Ellie even under those circumstances. They complied, Lillian got her dinner and finished it, while Ellie kept waiting, not moving from her spot even for a second, so as not to miss the moment of Elias' arrival. She waited, but he didn't come back. She fell asleep eventually and Leonard carefully carried her to her room. His heart was breaking for the girl, because he knew exactly what was happening. He already knew what Ellie didn't or maybe she did. She did, perhaps, but refused to accept it…
She kept waiting. For hours, days, a week. Whenever she heard some car, she would rush to the window, hoping it was Elias. Ellie found it hard to focus on anything else. She barely ate and sleep, she just passed out from exhaustion basically every evening. Each time Leonard would take her upstairs and tuck her in bed. Though in the morning she'd be back downstairs, most likely wearing one of her father's hats or shirts - almost three times too big for her- but it didn't matter. She didn't care. If she could, she'd most likely not only wear his clothes, but also spend every minute of the day in her spot on the windowsill.
Where did he go? Why didn't he come back? Every part of her aching heart couldn't accept it. She needed him… who would protect her now? Who would be there for her? Where did he think he's going and why couldn't he take her with him? He always did. They always did everything together. And then he was gone, just like that–
Honestly, she knew he wouldn't come back. She knew, but she didn't want to let go, not yet. She wasn't ready to do it.
And it was okay. Ellie could say it by the way their servants looked at her - so sympathetically. They hurt too. Perhaps not as much as she did, but they did in their own way. The only person who seemed to remain untouched was Lillian.
Even then, all she could think of was herself. She didn't display any kind of emotions. She wasn't sad or hurt and she didn't even try to pretend that she was.
"Will you finally pull yourself together?" Lillian growled, sipping on her drink, not even looking at Ellie "He won't come back. Ever."
Ellie frowned a little. There were a lot of things she could tell her mother, a lot of mean and hateful things. Though it didn't feel okay. It didn't feel like her, so she didn't. She held it all back, responding with simple "Why do you have to be like that?"
"Like what?" Lillian asked, looking at her manicured nails, acting the least bit interested in what her daughter actually had to say.
"Why can't you at least pretend that you care?"
"Don't be pathetic, Elizabeth."
Ellie sighed. There was no point in continuing the conversation. She wasn't pathetic. It wasn't pathetic. Feeling was a human thing, right?
A few days later a tall man dressed in black suit brought Elias' stuff from his clinic. They packed it all in a box. Over 20 years of his research, his work, his life - were enclosed in just one box. Leonard carried it to Elias' office and Ellie followed. She needed answers that no one wanted to give her, so she hoped she'd actually find something in the box. And she did. Her father left her a note–
Seemingly nothing had changed. Her body was still susceptible to pain, still breakable. It had to eat and breathe air and sleep. It still shuddered, as it had shuddered before. She still had to learn and she did, as she had done before. Life was going on, its usual way. Nothing changed - and yet everything was different. People, manners, course of boundaries. And amid it all her soul traipsed elusively. It disappeared, then came back, drew nearer and moved away from reality. She hurt, she cried. Feeling like an alien - at times certain, at others uncertain of her own existence. Trapped in her own grief and pain.
Ellie had been raised in a box - her father's castle, a perfect world he created just for her. But life was more than that. Life was different and not at all perfect. In truth it seemed to be far more unfriendly and sinister than she may have expected. She found herself lost in the new reality. The reality without her father. The world she knew had been shattered, completely destroyed. And learning to live all over again wasn't all that easy, but she was strong. Elias taught her how to be strong and she knew she could face all the obstacles. She had to - for him.
She was born into this goddamn family and that was the only thing she couldn't change. Though all the rest, everything else depended on her. He hadn't taught her all the things she knew without a reason…
"In life there are only two permanent things - happiness and existential pain. Life likes to gratify and hurt. It's a venom that heals and a rose that pricks. At times it's pretty good, although sometimes it's quite bad. And future matters are unforeseeable…" Elias' note said.
And so despite the pain she still believed there was more good than bad in life. She just had to look hard enough - like her father said.
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libertine-lioness · 3 years
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94✨November26,2020
Thankfull🦃
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Thanksgiving is a day to count the blessings in your life. The blessings that continue to exist, despite any weird or awful circumstances. Those gifts granted to us by the universe, that we cherish deeply within; but seldomly express.
Perhaps, it’s because life does a great job at keeping us distracted on other things. Maybe it’s because you are going through some bullshit.
Whatever the reason may be, I believe having one day of the year to be grateful, is not only reasonable, it’s also super important. It has nothing to do with the bangin’ food either.
I could easily list a hundred things, that’ve made me less than thankful this year. 2020 has been brutal. It’s been a real bitch, to almost everyone I know. However, that’s not what today is about; now is it?
This year, I am grateful for a whole lot.
- My Humongous Family and their unconditional love, support, and encouragement.
- The fairly decent health conditions, of everyone I love.
- Garrett James Convry
- My second family(The Convry fam), who ever so graciously, welcomed me into their home.
- My best friends who understand me enough, to not take my isolation days personally.
- I’m employed by two awesome places.
- Single life teaching me self love and boundaries for future relationships.
- Being able to travel to Colorado this year and falling in love with it.
- One of my favorite musicians, played a show for my birthday. I’ll never ever get over it.
- Catching up with old faces that left an impact at some point.
- I didn’t kill anyone during quarantine(yet).
- My best friend’s baby, who has periodically brought me back to life this year.
- As always.... music! Without it, I would not be here. Although ,the lack of live music is certainly killing me, I am thankful I have the ability to still hear and feel it.
- The warm days.
- Marijuana
- Having a car (my safe haven).
- Last but not least, still having the ability to read the signs from the universe. The signs that guide me towards better days and better decisions.
Was this the best year? Not at all. I’ve wanted to die multiple times. Yet I’m still here kickin. I am glad. I am grateful. I am thankful. Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I wish everyone reading this, another year of small victories, joy, and love.
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Under sun and shade alike
Aziraphale/Crowley Rating: Explicit Words: 2069 Content Notes and Warnings: explicit NSFT, he/him pronouns for both, the narrator addresses the reader for some reason, p-in-v intercourse, semi-public intercourse, fluffy and plotless Beta’d by Euterpein. Thank you very much!
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It’s the future now, dear reader.
Set the scene: an early May morning, bright and sunny. A charming little Brighton inn, just a short drive from an old, half-maintained apple orchard. Inside one of the rooms, an angel (who you might not recognize as an angel if you haven’t heard the history yet) stands at the mirror, adjusting his bowtie with a prim enthusiasm that should be contradictory but somehow isn’t.
“I don’t suppose you’d be open to going for a walk,” he says, turning to his companion, who has his sunglasses on already and has returned to the bed for a good sprawl. (Though he’s much more shady-looking than the other, you would most likely not assume he’s literally a demon on first sight, either. He is, though, literally a demon.) “I did spot that nice orchard on our way in last night,” the angel adds.
The impulse to snarl about how demons don’t go for lovely walks in orchards has not gone away, no matter how retired he is. But the deep-down truth is this particular demon doesn’t, at heart, have a problem with orchards, or sunshine, or gentle outings with angels who are overexcited about springtime. And it’s their first vacation together under this...whatever sort of arrangement you’d call it when an angel and a demon cuddle on a regular basis and occasionally engage in the pleasures of the flesh.
So they head out.
The impending summer is an excited whisper among leaves in the apple trees, the sweet scent of their bloom lingering in the air. Amid a rather overgrown patch of especially verdant trees is a shed of some sort, bleached from the elements, apparently not in use by anyone except the two entities having an intimate moment against it.
Normally, the sight of a couple passionately making out in a relatively public place would draw negative attention, and maybe even the police as well, if they went at it for this long. You might cringe and wonder how people could possibly lose themselves that way in public. Aren’t they even a little self-conscious?
But, in addition to letting this happen in a locale that isn’t currently busy in the first place, these two are particularly good (supernaturally good) at not being noticed. So you wouldn’t, in fact, have any thoughts about them at all if I weren’t telling you all of this. They are surrounded by a vibrant Earthly beauty reminiscent of the very place where they met - and they can safely consider themselves alone together.
Continue on AO3 or read more below!
After a bit of hinting (“Let’s have a look at that quaint little building. Is it an abandoned shed?”) and a few shy gestures (the brush of their hands together, an intertwining of fingers and a gentle meandering toward the right spot), Aziraphale has finally got Crowley pulled in close to him. (It’d been Crowley’s idea to use the shed for support, nudging the angel against it as they kissed. Even in the haze of desire, as Crowley had removed his sunglasses for a better snog, he’d caught Aziraphale hastily double-checking their chosen spot for debris that might rub off on his precious coat; thankfully, he’d found none.)
“Positively delightful to be out here with you,” Aziraphale whispers against Crowley’s lips.
“Mmmmm, yes, the weather is nice, isn’t it.” Crowley lets his lips pull back in a smirk, just for a moment.
“You know full well,” Aziraphale says, before capturing Crowley’s mouth again, licking his way in with playful ferocity, “that I’m not talking about the weather.”
“Ah. Got a different kind of spring fever, have you?” Crowley nods vaguely downward, where Aziraphale’s been pressing his hips into Crowley’s, probably thinking he’s subtle.
“Angels don’t get any kind of spring fever.”
“And yet.” Crowley rolls his hips once.
“Just helping you blend in, my dear,” Aziraphale croons, almost effectively disguising the hitch in his breath with an arch of his eyebrows. “Springtime cavorting is a time-honored tradition among humans, after all.”
There is a grain of truth here. Though Crowley could never have said he understood it before they’d tried this together, and he still doesn’t understand how out-of-control some of the humans seem to get, they did throw a lot of “fertility festivals” around this time. At the very least, he now understands why a lot of people seem to like physical intimacy so much, and as he considers the metaphor, he can grasp why the sensual pleasures of the weather heating up and the flowers bursting open could pair well with the sensual pleasures of-- well. Of fucking.
Then again…
“Oh, they’re always looking for an excuse. Could there be someone here who’s got that in common with them?” Crowley teases, stroking his fingers through Aziraphale’s curls.
“Hardly my fault,” the angel murmurs against his lips, “when I’ve got the world’s first and best tempter here, always asking what I’d like.”
Crowley growls happily, pressing Aziraphale’s whole body against the wall as they kiss before trailing his way down Aziraphale’s throat. His kisses, punctuated by a gentle graze of teeth, draw forth the most sublime sounds from the angel, although he can’t help answering with his own sounds of enjoyment.
Crowley is excellent at reading desires. Right now, judging by the way he’s being pulled close, how he’s being caressed up and down, how Aziraphale’s hands go from playing with his hair to running along his spine to grabbing his arse and then back again, like he can’t decide where to settle, Crowley believes that maybe what Aziraphale wants is to be held in as many ways as possible all at once.
As many ways as possible.
And moreover, dear reader, while our demon is carefully conditioned to never, ever articulate such sentimentality out loud, he can empathize with what he very well knows our angel is looking for deep down: unconditional belonging, importance, adoration. Well, you can’t give those to somebody with sex alone, but you can make an example of it, and Crowley suspects a good orgasm would also be a welcome experience, if the heat being pressed against his crotch is any indication.
When he speaks, Crowley’s voice is a little rough, perhaps a little broken.
“Would you like,” he begins, kissing and nipping Aziraphale’s lip some more to stall. “Would you like it if I took you inside me?” And he strokes his fingers over the straining erection in Aziraphale’s trousers. Truth be told, Crowley’s own body is already hyper-receptive, as if making room. He can think of nothing but being filled.
Aziraphale hums. “Mmmmm, yes, please…”
Their clothes are barely even a thought at this point. The removal thereof could be narrated, but aside from Aziraphale’s vague understanding that he will eventually regret it if they don’t stay clean, our lovers have no interest in them. There’s no point in describing any of the garments they hastily push down and shove aside until they’re both exposed, Aziraphale leaning back against the shed and Crowley wrapping one very flexible leg around his hip, so they can press their naked parts together.
Aziraphale closes his eyes for a long, slow blink and takes a deep breath, which stutters on its way back out.
“Everything okay?” Crowley asks.
“Many times better than ‘okay,’” Aziraphale says. “Would you mind if I moved a little?” He places his hand on Crowley’s thigh, nudging his hips upwards by the slightest bit.
“You’re not even inside yet.”
“Oh, but it still feels exquisite. You’re so-- you’re so warm, Crowley, and soft, and,” he bites his own lip this time, “you’re sopping wet.”
Crowley is outright aching now, yearning to surround Aziraphale, to take him in and be the place where yet another part of him belongs. He circles his hips to rub his wet slit over Aziraphale’s arousal, provoking a delicious groan from the angel and very nearly moaning himself. “Well. Maybe it’s time to start in earnest, then?”
“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale breathes, running his hands along Crowley’s thighs.
Keeping one arm around Aziraphale’s back, holding him tight for both love and stability, Crowley uses the other to reach between them, takes Aziraphale’s cock in hand, and rubs the head along his slit to get it all slick, nearly loses himself lingering against his swollen clit. The sound of his name spilling from Aziraphale’s mouth like pure gratitude refocuses him, reminds him he’s on his way to surround, to hold, to take in, to embrace.
Crowley poises Aziraphale at his entrance, his labia around the tip of the angel’s cock as if giving a kiss. “Angel,” he whispers, their eyes locking, and he pushes his hips forward, his welcoming cunt engulfing Aziraphale from head to hilt. “Oh, angel.” He sighs, lightheaded with Aziraphale’s hooded gaze only a few inches away, with the hot stretch of his girth satisfying the ache deep between Crowley’s legs.
Aziraphale’s eyes slide shut and he tips his head back. “Ooh. Crowley, I--” He pauses to gasp, grabs at the fabric over Crowley’s back. “I can’t last long.”
“You don’t worry about that,” Crowley says, voice low. He winds both arms and the leg he’s raised for access around Aziraphale’s soft, warm body in a tight hug, nibbles tenderly at Aziraphale’s earlobe. “Jusssst do what feels good,” he hisses.
It’s a good thing Crowley’s spine has such a fluid relationship with physics, because it allows him to thrust his hips in delightfully long, slow sweeping motions over Aziraphale’s length while holding him heart-to-heart, while drinking in kiss after kiss. Aziraphale graces Crowley’s lips with a series of soft, beautiful “oh”s and “ah”s, running his hands down Crowley’s back again to grab his arse and meet each of his thrusts, pushing as deeply inside his cunt as he can, murmuring the occasional compliment: “How lovely, to be inside you…oh, my, Crowley, you are exquisite…”
And Aziraphale was right - it isn’t long before he climaxes. The rest of him goes still as he spills, and Crowley reaches down to finger his clit until his own orgasm builds to a fluttering crescendo around Aziraphale’s still-twitching cock.
Their pleasure sounds quiet into slowly-calming breaths, eyes closed for several seconds before their taught corporations relax and both settle down together, Crowley’s forehead against the shed over Aziraphale’s shoulder.
“You do, occasionally, come up with a surprise,” Crowley says at last.
There’s a secretive glance from the angel. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sex in a public place, Aziraphale. In case you hadn’t noticed. How premeditated was this?” Crowley is sure his delight is palpable; he can feel it beaming from his face as he pushes off the wooden siding. Aziraphale follows.
A snap of fingers and the two of them are all tidied up again, a dusty, prim, and proper bookseller and a maybe-former-rock-star in expensive sunglasses strolling in tranquility under the apple trees. If you stumbled around the corner at this moment, you would likely not suspect they’d known each other for over six thousand years, and while you might detect some flirtatious tension in the air, you probably would not assume they’d just been furiously rutting each other into the throes of orgasm against the side of the undisturbed old shed.
Aziraphale sniffs. “It’s doubtful whether it counts as public if humans are incapable of noticing us.”
“It’s the...oh, fair enough.”
“Besides, I said I was tempted, remember?” After this, all of the smugness melts off the angel’s expression, and he’s left with a tender look that isn’t, theoretically, supposed to turn the insides of demons into a mess of pure sugar. “By the very best. Come along, let’s finish our walk.”
And this, reader, is where our story leaves off for now. Take this idea with you, if you’d like…
Two beings, not completely like or unlike you and I, once reached across the gulf between Heaven and Hell. They shared secrets in the Garden of Eden, just as the first rain began to fall and humankind, too, was falling for the first time ever over the consuming of a forbidden apple. More than six thousand years and story after infinite story later, the very same pair has found the freedom to choose Earth and each other. They’ve just paused to make love in an apple orchard of humankind’s cultivation, and then set out together to continue on their way under sun and shade alike.
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Sincerely Me
So, I needed an outlet. And, whatever kind of stick Tumblr gets, it’s free. And I’m a broke student, that’s my aesthetic this decade. I’m not writing this for anyone but my own buzzing, confused, boiling over thoughts. Cause if I don’t lay it all out here, then it’ll come out in some other form and that generally leads to me ugly cry at 3 am after isolating myself even more than I already have. 
I’m not expecting anyone to read this. I don’t know if I do. There’s probably a way I could private this. But maybe I do want someone to read this. Maybe I’m desperate for some form of attention. Wow, I am really painting myself as a solid person right now. Right now, the general feeling inhabiting me is I want people there and yet, I want isolation. It’s like, I want to know they’re there if I need them but I want my solitude as well. I think I’ve been that way since I was a kid. I couldn’t sleep if I knew everyone else in the house was asleep before me. I’m not sure where that irrational fear came from but it was just one on a list. 
That’s not to say I didn’t have a happy childhood. I’m getting nostalgic these for it. Or for the lack of thinking and lack of responsibility as well. It’s all on me now. Or it feels that way. I don’t have someone reliable I can fall back on if it all blows up in my face. I’ve imagined myself in an Alice in Wonderland scenario, when she initially falls down the rabbit hole and is just falling and falling. Except she slows down. I feel like I’m speeding up. I see all these ledges and every person who had some key aspect in my life, some adult I was suppose to rely on, family members, friends, they all stand there. And each time my trust with them is shattered, they vanish. I can’t hold onto any ledge for long, the pull to fall is too great. Sometimes they unpick my fingers to send me falling again. Sometimes there just isn’t room on the ledge for me.
I feel like everyone has that person in their life. That solid, dependable person you know has your back and genuinely cares about you and cares about your well being. Unconditional love. I don’t have that anymore I fear. Got no parents, so not getting it that way. Only knew my moms family and they all have their own issues and they’re all basically strangers. My mom made sure to distance herself and me and my sister from them. A lot of people in that family are toxic and I honestly am not sure I want them in my life. Which in turn causes me to feel like crap because they’re family. I’m suppose to love them. But I’m as much a stranger to them as they are to me. I have grandparents. They love me. They love the version I present to them. Well, my grandad knows me a bit better then my grandma. At least he calls me Lance. And we have a similar sense of humor. But I worry he’s losing his memory. And to be honest, he’s a bit intimidating. It was me, him and Mom for a while. I appreciate that time we had together. I do love him. And am terrified of losing him too. 
Grandma, I was kind of always her main grandchild. Purely because my sister grew up, she wasn’t allowed see some of her grandkids or they lived too far away. And you know, I loved it as a kid. I loved being her main grandkid. I’m not saying she loved me more, no way, we just saw each other more. She has a big heart and I know she loves all her grandkids and children with all of it. I was just the one she had the most exposure to. And as a kid, it worked. Sure, she was always trying to convert me to her religion but Mom blocked that off. It’s more awkward now when I’m twenty and she’s still going on about it and, now that I’ve been educated and have more experience, don’t always agree with her. I admire her faith. I’m curious about it. Because I have no experience with it myself. But I don’t want to either. Growing up without any kind of faith or religion or beliefs, in some ways, I missed out. But I also think it left me open to the ideas of others and wanting to understand everyone. 
My grandma loves me, I know. But she knows less and less about me. Who I am. Even my name. I’m terrified of losing her if she saw me for me, because it could conflict with her faith. And if she had to turn her back, I don’t know what I’d do. 
I have a sister. But like just about every other family member, we’re distant. I mean, she’s six years older, so growing up there was that. And when she moved out, it was harder to maintain the relationship. And I know now, just how much she was dealing with herself. I knew nothing of it because I was the youngest and no thought me able to handle that sort of thing. I mean, I think at one point in my life I wouldn’t have been able to. But seeing your mother slowly die before you really matures you. 
Was that too dark? I’ve been told I can be rather dark. I think I’ve just grown more blunt. I know how awful this world is. How painful and bloody and disgusting and twisted it can be. No point in throwing handful glitter at it and smiling to make other’s feel comfortable. But I don’t want to ruin a positive outlook either. I admire those who can have one on life. I think I use to have one. Hope. Eagerness to live life. I had faith in my abilities and that I could live the life I wanted. Now, I don’t even know what I want anymore. I remember being a little kid and loving to tell stories. First in pictures, then in words when I could write. And my mom encouraged that. She was the only one who had faith I could make it as an author. Encouraged me. My aunts told me to get realistic and be an nurse or teacher. The one time I saw them in about five years, that’s what they had to say to me. Charming. It’s funny as a kid, anyone can be anything. And then you go to college and it’s all about making money. And I’m not discounting money, money is amazing, get to buy all my hoodies and books and Reeses Candy Cane Swirl kisses with money. It pays for my Netflix. Pay for the roof over my head and food in my-okay it pays for my take out. When I can afford it. If not, it’s Dealz microwave popcorn for dinner. But when did wanting the best future for someone add up to crushing their dreams and being a soul crushing asshole?
To be honest, I haven’t written anything proper since my mom died. I think that dream died with her. I kinda feel like I’m floating through college. I totally have a plan, that’s what I tell people. But nothing is said with certainty. Nothing with passion or excitement. Nothing I want to dedicate myself to. I go to college because it will stop the people who like to nose into my life from fretting and yeah, it has some positive aspects to it. I do enjoy learning. I’ve just lost my drive. 
And I’m so angry at people all the time. Old foster parents, ex friends, college mates, current friends, adults. Even though I am an adult, I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing those people as the Adults. And I don’t know when they’ll stop seeing me as a teenager. Certainly still feel like one. 
Anyway, the whole reason I’m writing this post is because I got angry at an interaction between my best friend and her mom. Not angry at them. Angry at the fact I don’t have that. I don’t have a mom to offer to make me hot chocolate or hear about my day or just want to hug me for the sake of hugging me. It honestly feels like I have no one to make proud anymore. I don’t care what the others think because I don’t respect them as much as I did her. And I knew she wanted me to do well because she loved me. They pay attention because it’s the morally right thing to do. “The poor orphan, oh we’ll look so bad if we ignore them.”And then they smile to themselves and think, “Aren’t we such good people?”
And yeah, they are. Because they’ve fed me, given me somewhere to sleep (A blow up mattress is going to be interesting to sleep on for three months but we’ll make it work), somewhere safe and warm, a ride when I need it, helped me figure out college stuff and official things. And I appreciate that and them from the bottom of my heart. So that’s why I don’t understand why I get so angry. At everyone. Sure, some people deserve it, they’re assholes. Some don’t. And most have left because I don’t know how to handle my grief and other issues. After mom passed, it felt like just about everyone abandoned me. I wasn’t a great friend, I was angry at the world and depressed to a dangerous point. I was in crisis. And didn’t know how to reach out. My foster home got pulled out from under my feet just when I thought things were getting better. My school friends, well, they dropped communication. And some of them, I don’t blame for it. Some I do blame. But playing the Blame Game is stupid. So I wish them the best in their future endeavors and am trying to move on. I just feel like...when my life imploded, everyone was there for the first month. And then i was expected to smile, play happy families and school student and move on from losing the most important person in my life. My mom was my world. And I had to watch for five years as she wasted away. 
You know, some days I just wanna scream “FUCK THOSE PEOPLE. THEY SUCK AND I’M BETTER OFF WITHOUT THEM” Cause some people are just douchebags, who hurt me for what feels like no reason. Some people, I understand couldn’t handle the place I was in. And to this day, I struggle with my self worth because of those sorts of interactions. And yet, I still put up with those kinds of people because I am terrified of being alone. Yet, I like being alone. I just like knowing people are there. And you know, there are some people in my life who frustrate me to no end but I still love them. And I am happy they’re in my life. 
My best friend. I would take a bullet for her. Several bullets in fact. She keeps me grounded, she puts up with all my bullshit and she makes me smile and you know what? I think she genuinely cares. We can fight and I’m not afraid that’s it, I’ll never see her again. I don’t see our friendship as a ticking time bomb. I know she’s there for the long haul. And I hope she knows that about me too. 
My surrogate  older sibling friend. They’re actually older than my sister. But I think they knows me better at this point. To be fair, I need to play my part in reconnecting with my sister. This is the friend who I look up to. I admire their strength and compassion. And they’re so smart and capable! I love them. 
Those are perhaps the two most solid people in my life. The two I don’t gotta pretend around and I can be as broken as I am. So that’s good at least.
I titled this piece superpower, originally. I had an idea in mind but I went off on an tangent as always. Perhaps I’ll go into that another time. 
Hope this helped,
Sincerely, 
Me. 
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imaginesfordayss · 7 years
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Learn to Love
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Summary: You’re only a few months into your new life as a vampire when a chance encounter with a werewolf named Seth leads to a whole new aspect to your supernatural life. 
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.8k
You were flying through the woods. Trees, branches, rocks, wildlife-- all flying past you as your supernatural strength and speed propelled you swiftly through the Washington woods. You came to a halt as you neared the Cullen house, their scents becoming thicker the closer you got to their hub. Edward and Bella caught up with you after a moment, watching you warily.
It was your first time back in Forks since the incident. Since you were hiking through the forest and caught unawares by a rogue vampire looking for their next meal. You were lucky to be found by the Cullens before the rogue finished, but not before he had taken his bite and started your change. It was agony, those 4 days of burning, but when you came out of it you were amazed at what you had become.
Carlisle was calm and kind as he explained your new world, your speed, your strength, your thirst. He and Bella took you away, to a remote cabin in the woods where they helped you control your urges and get used to your new body and skills. After a few months he gave you a choice: Leave him and take on the world by yourself, or join his family and live a vegetarian diet. It wasn’t that hard to choose.
So here you were, six months later, ready to move into your new home. It would take another year at the least before you were ready to interact with humans, but at least here you could interact with more than just Carlisle. You had come to recognize Renesmee’s scent and figured she would be well protected with a group of vampires where one of them could read your mind and see the future, so she was safe. And Jacob smelled like pungent wet dog which was extremely unappetizing so he was very safe. They were really the only warm blooded creatures that were at the house with any sort of regularity so you figured you were in the clear.
Well, you thought you were in the clear.
As the three of you now walked to the Cullen house you caught a whiff of a warm blooded creature. It smelled almost animal, but with a very definite human element was there.
You stopped on a dime and Edward and Bella tensed. You couldn’t stop yourself and inhaled, scenting the person. They smelled sweet and sweaty. Edward cursed and took off. Bella tried to grab you, but you growled and shook her off and ran toward the scent.
“Seth! Seth, run to the house!”
You snarled, changing your path to follow. You didn’t realize what Edward’s plan was until you caught sight of the porch and Esme escorting a tan skinned man inside, and someone slammed into you from the side. They pinned you down and you snapped at them, so blinded by the hunt that you didn’t realize Emmett trying to clam you down.
“Jasper, a little help here.” Emmett said, dodging a bite to his arm.
You felt a calm seep through you, easing you slightly.
“(Y/n), it’s okay. You can fight this, remember what we practiced.” Carlisle leaned down, speaking to you clamly.
The drive of the hunt slowly started to ease and you closed your eyes and held your breath. With the scent of the human not immediately driving you, you began to calm down. You opened your eyes and nodded at Emmett.
He let you up, but he stayed close and at the ready in case you decided to attack again. You searched the windows, impulsively searching for the source of the sweet scent. but Carlisle came into your line of sight.
“(Y/n)? Can you keep yourself under control while we let Seth leave.”
You clenched your jaw and nodded, ready to steel yourself. Carlisle waved towards someone and the door opened, revealing Esme and a boy no older than 18 with long hair and soft eyes.
He walked down the stairs, looking to Esme and then Edward with a surprisingly amused look on his face. You guessed he was saying something in his mind to Edward because you saw the red headed vampire roll his eyes.  When he reached the bottom of the steps he finally locked eyes with you and then stopped. A look of shocked awe passed over his face and he gasped.
You looked at him, confused, and kind of annoyed. This guy was risking his life, just standing there gaping. You didn’t know if he knew the danger he was in, but you wanted the Cullens to speed it up.
“Oh, wow.” Edward said suddenly.
You tried to catch his eye, throwing your thoughts out to figure out what the hell was going on. It seemed you weren’t the only one confused, because Rosalie was throwing quizzical looks toward Edward and Esme.
“What’s going on?” She asked, annoyed.
Edward regarded Seth with another shocked look before he turned to Rosalie.
“Seth has imprinted.”
A collective murmur of shock went through your small crowd and you felt all eyes on you.
Now irritated, you finally let out a breath, “What the fuck is going on here.” Trying to keep your breathing under control. Emmett put a firm hand on your arm as you stiffened against the onslaught of the man’s scent once more.
For the first time ever, you saw Carlisle unsure. He looked from you to the man and back again before seemingly shaking himself out of his shock.
“Okay, let’s take this inside.” He said, ushering the man in front of him. He seemed strangely reluctant, trying to keep eye contact with you before entering the house.
Emmett and Jasper flanked you as you entered the house, keeping you under what little control you had left. Your irritation was steadily growing.
“Someone please explain.”
Carlisle motioned for you to sit down. Seth was already seated on the couch with Bella beside him, so you took the arm chair on the other side of the coffee table. His scent wasn’t getting anymore bearable, and your anger wasn’t helping.
“(Y/n), this is Seth. He’s a friend of Jacob’s.” Bella said.
By ‘friend of Jacob’s’ you inferred he was a werewolf. Which would explain the slightly animal scent he had about him, but did nothing to explain why he didn’t smell like wet dog.
“You don’t smell like a friend of Jacob’s.” You said, voicing your thoughts, “And what do you mean by imprint? Like a duck imprinting type thing?”
Edward snorted and shook his head, “Sort of, but not entirely. Remember how I told you about Renesmee and Jacob? How their relationship works? Imprinting is the unconditional affection a werewolf has for its mate. Seth has,” He paused, “Imprinted on you. That would explain why he doesn’t smell as repellent as Jacob does.”
You scoffed, waiting for the punch line, but everyone just looked at you with various stages of pity and nervousness. You locked eyes with the man, Seth, and really looked at him for the first time.
His hair was almost longer than yours, flowing soft and dark down his shoulders. He had dark eyes and you could tell he smiled a lot by the lines on his cheeks. He wasn’t hard on the eyes that was for sure, and as far as supernatural creatures that mysteriously fell in love with you went, you could do worse. But still, this was insane.
“I don’t even know you.” You said slowly, shocked at this turn of events.
He smiled, confirming your too much smiling theory, and stood up offering his hand, “My name’s Seth. I’m one of the wolves in Jacob’s pack. I’m surprised no one’s mentioned me, but I’m really good friends with Renesmee.” He babbled quickly.
You stiffened at his sudden closeness and Bella shot up, holding Seth back from getting any closer.
“Seth,” She said, “(Y/n) is a newborn we’ve been helping. That girl Jacob probably told you about? She’s still working on her control so let’s keep it slow for now.”
He looked guilty and swiftly backed up, tripping slightly over his feet, “Oh of course. Sorry.”
You couldn’t help laughing a bit at him, he was so sincere and a bit overeager, “It’s fine.”
“Seth,” Carlisle said, “(Y/n) is actually just moving in today. We still have to work some things out, so how about we talk about this more tomorrow.”
Seth pouted a bit, looking like that was the last thing he wanted to do. He looked like he was about to protest when Bella squeezed his shoulder earnestly.
“How about you come back tomorrow, Seth. Renesmee is staying on the res tonight? You can come back tomorrow with her.”
He pondered for a moment before nodding reluctantly, “Okay.” He looked at you shyly, “Tomorrow then.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.” You said.
Esme escorted the native out with a warm smile.
Once the door clicked shut all eyes were on you again. You fidgeted under the gaze and stood up.
“So am I moving in today or what.” You said gruffly.
Alice stood and looped her arm through yours, leading you to your room on the second floor. You opened the door to several boxes scattered around and a bed frame mostly set up. The walls and floor were bare and you remembered Esme said you could decorate however you liked. The stark whiteness of the walls would definitely have to go soon.
You approached the first box and ripped it open. Inside was a collection of random books and knick knacks from your old room. You reached inside and picked up the first thing you touched: a diary. Smiling, you flipped through the pages and smiled at your human woes. Your last entry was about a professor giving you an unfair grade and being bummed about finding no one to go hiking with that weekend. You wrote this nearly seven months ago, but it felt like a lifetime.
“Are you okay?” Alice prodded.
You looked up, startled out of your reverie and shook your head, “No I’m fine. Help me unpack?”
It took you a day when you unpacked your dorm room earlier that year, but it took you and Alice a little under two hours to unpack a whole new bedroom. The Cullens had gotten you all new furniture, with a desk and nightstand and dresser. It was probably too much, but Esme insisted and you found it physically impossible to deny the woman anything.
After everything was unpacked and put away Alice left to spend time with Jasper, leaving you alone. It was incredibly boring being awake all day everyday and when you first made the change you realized you would have to find things to occupy yourself. Carlisle had gotten you enrolled in online classes so you could continue your degree, but there was only so much school you could do. As of right now you were 2 weeks ahead of the assignments so that was off the list. You read a lot too. Edward brought you countless books ranging from biographies to YA fiction, but tonight you didn’t feel like speed reading through a novel. In fact, you didn’t feel like doing any of the things you usually did. Today was a weird day and you didn’t feel like staying indoors. So, you made your way downstairs and caught Carlisle and Bella watching TV. They seemed to be extremely engrossed in it because they barely acknowledged your presence.
“Hey guys,” You said, “I’m gonna go hunting for a bit.”
Carlisle looked up, “Oh, that’s probably a good idea. I can go with you.”
“No no, it’s fine. You two look busy.” Carlisle didn’t look convinced and you rolled your eyes, “It’ll be fine Carlisle. It’s winter and no one is going to be in the woods this late in the season unless they have a death wish. And if they do I’ll be there to answer.”
Bella snorted and Carlisle fixed you with his chastising father look.
“Fine, but please be careful. Remember your training and stay in our normal hunting grounds.”
You mock saluted him, “Roger that chief. I’ll be back by sunup.”
Hunting was one of the true thrills you experienced as a vampire. There was no turf wars like in Underworld and no Van Helsing to hide from, but there was the hunt. Chasing something, especially something that put up a fight, was exhilarating and thrilling. It was the one time you actually got to put your newfound skills to use and this was probably your favorite time of the day. Tonight you had managed to kill two deer and currently were searching for something a bit more fighty. Bears were in hibernation so you’re best bet were a wolf or maybe a cougar if you got lucky.
You were simply strolling quietly in the woods when you heard a heartbeat not far off. The heartbeat was too slow to be a deer’s and too regular to be a cougars, yet slightly too fast to be a human’s resting rate. It was puzzling and you began following it. They were downwind of you so you hadn’t caught their scent yet, but you figured whatever it was didn’t put you in any danger.
As you got closer you got a weird feeling that whatever it was was walking toward you as well. You were getting closer quicker than you expected and whatever it was wasn’t afraid. You paused and hid in the snow weighed branches of a tree, listening to them get near. Their footsteps were cleearly audible to you now and it was only a few moments before they came into sight.
“Seth?”
The long haired boy whirled around and smiled when he saw you.
“Hi.” He said cheerfully, walking towards you.
You held out your hand, warding him off as his scent finally hit you. It was just as sweet as it was earlier with the now recognizable scent of wolf.
“What are you doing out here?” You asked stiffly.
He looked shy for a moment and shuffled his feet awkwardly, “I was just gonna hang out in the woods till morning, but then I heard you leave so I decided to follow you.”
“You followed me?” You accused, “You could have gotten killed if I accidentally caught your scent, what the hell were you thinking!”
His eyes widened and he resumed his awkward shuffling, “I-- I’m sorry,” He stuttered out, “I just wanted to see you.”
You scoffed, but you could see he was being completely sincere. He was looking at you with pitiful eyes and scolding him honestly felt like kicking a puppy.
“Look just,” you sighed, “You have to get out of here. What are you even doing hanging out in the woods at night. I mean I get you’re a werewolf but don’t you have school?”
Seth gasped, offended, “I’m 23!”
You laughed, “You are not 23.”
“I am! I have a job and my own apartment.” He said, huffing and crossing his arms.
You mimicked his stance teasingly, “You look 18 at best.”
He smiled, “That’ll come in handy when I get older. I’ll keep my youthful looks forever.”
“That probably has more to do with your immortality.”
He shrugged but didn’t argue.
You sighed, “We should head back now. I’ll walk you as far as the treaty line.”
“No!”
You startled at his adverse response and he backpedaled, looking embarrassed. “I mean, can’t we hang out just a bit longer?” He implored, seemingly begging.
You shifted, a bit uncomfortable. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with him-- you had no reason to dislike him and he was kind of cute-- but you didn’t trust yourself to not hurt him.
“I don’t trust that I won’t hurt you if something goes wrong.” You said, voicing your thoughts.
He nodded slowly after a moment, considering your answer before perking up, “I can just go back to the house with you. I hang out there all the time and they wouldn’t mind. And that way someone would be there in case you have trouble.”
You smiled at his eagerness. You considered it, and it wasn’t a bad idea. Clearly he wasn’t going home anytime soon and better he spend the night indoors than skulking in the woods waiting for morning.
Sighing, you started walking back. A few paces ahead of him you realized he wasn’t following.
“You coming or what?” He snapped into action and scrambled after you quicker than you thought possible.
It took much longer to walk back than it would if you were running, but you didn’t want to risk switching to a hunting mindset with Seth and his human blood so close to you. Several times you had to ask him to not walk so close, but he always drifted back to you after a while.
It was well past midnight when you finally came into view of the house. Only some of the main floor lights were on, but as you cleared the tree line the front lights flicked on and Carlisle came striding out.
“Seth, what a surprise.” He said, “We didn’t expect you until morning.”
Seth yawned through his cheeky grin, “I met (y/n) in the woods and we decided to walk back together. I mean, it’s almost morning now. Consider me early.”
Carlisle appraised you carefully, asking with his eyes if you were alright, and you nodded, “He’s not leaving any time soon. He can just hang out, yeah? He said he comes over all the time.”
Seth blushed a bit and you could smell the rush of blood. It made you a bit lightheaded, but you held your breath and tried to ignore it.
“Of course,” Carlisle said, motioning Seth to walk in front of him, “Can I get you anything, Seth?”
The rest of the night was awkward as you, Seth, and Carlisle watched TV in the living room. Carlisle stoically read a medical journal and only made small comments when prompted, but otherwise left you and Seth to make awkward small talk.
He asked you questions about yourself and your human life and you asked him about being a werewolf and his family. Apparently he was very close with Bella as his mom was now involved with her father.
“That must be weird right?” You asked, “I mean, Bella and Edward are vampires and you and your sister are werewolves and Charlie doesn’t know. Doesn’t it get hard to hide it from him?”
“Not really,” Seth said, “At least not anymore. I think Charlie recognizes something goes on behind the scene, but as long as Nessie and Bella keep coming around he doesn’t seem worried about it.”
“That must be nice.” You said wistfully.
He stared at you thoughtfully before speaking, “Do you miss your parents?” He asked carefully.
You had been turned, facing him when he asked and now shifted to face the TV. It was playing an old episode of Law and Order: SVU and Stabler was roughing up a suspect in the interview room.
“Of course I miss them.” You said softly.
It was quiet for a moment, Stabler was talking to Benson about going undercover, and then Seth rested his hand on your shoulder slowly.
“I’m sorry.” He said, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s okay,” You replied, “I’m afraid I’ll forget them if I don’t talk about them more, but it’s,” You paused, collecting yourself, “hard.”
Seth nodded and let his hand fall away. “I know that eventually I’ll have to watch my mother die. Possibly my sister too, and all of my friends. They’ll all die and I’ll be here, the only one to keep their memory alive. It’s the only we can do, keep them alive any way we can.”
You looked over to find him staring at you. His dark brown eyes seemed to be endless as they gazed at you. You felt laid out bare before him and it made you both a mix of embarrassed and flattered. Clearing your throat you motioned to the TV.
“This is back when the episodes were really good. I love Amaro and Carisi, but Stabler just brought a different vibe to the show.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Seth smirk, “I’ve never actually watched this show.”
You gaped, “Are you serious? I’ve seen all of them.” You grabbed the remote and pulled up Hulu on the smart TV, “We’ll have to start on episode one. Unless you want to start at the very very beginning before they even had SVU, and it that case we’ll have to start with the original Law and Order.”
The rest of the night and the early morning was spent with old cop shows and you trying your best not to reveal the killer before the end of the episode. Seth joked about how outdated the policing was and you teased him on his odd emotional connection with Detective Benson.
You weren’t even halfway through season one when you looked over and noticed Seth was fast asleep. Looking out the window, you noticed the sun was over the horizon now. You pulled up the clock on the TV and saw it was almost seven in the morning.
“I’m surprised he lasted that long.” Carlisle said, finally breaking his silence.
You had honestly forgotten he was there, “I forgot he still needs sleep.”
Carlisle closed his book before standing, “You did good night tonight (y/n), I’m very proud.”
You grinned, slightly giddy with his praise, “Thanks. As long as I didn’t think about it too much it was okay.”
“That’s good.” He moved into the main hall and looked out the window, “I can hear Jacob and Renesmee coming, they’ll be here in a few minutes. Think you can be on your own for a few minutes? I have a few emails I should get to before I go into the hospital.”
You rolled your eyes, “Go save the world, super doctor. I’ll be fine.”
He laughed and walked out of the room, “I’ll be right upstairs.”
You looked at Seth then, taking your time in studying his facial features. How he managed to look younger in sleep was a mystery to you as the man already looked fresh out of high school as it is. You reached over and grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch, draping it over him softly. You paused when he shifted slightly and murmured sleepily. It sounded like something about DNA, and you laughed slightly.
Your relationship with Seth was very odd, and you still didn’t entirely understand the whole imprint thing. You hadn’t even met him before today and now suddenly you were supposed to be in love with each other. It was odd and unrealistic and would probably prove to be annoying later on, when you could truly think about it, but as of now, looking at him quiet and at peace, you figured it wouldn’t be too hard to learn to love him.
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simplyrali · 6 years
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Hope (Jameron fanfiction)
Please be gentle. :D English is not my mother tongue and that’s the first time I attempt to write fanfiction. Sooo…
The events take place after the series finale.
Anyways, I think these two deserve another shot.  
  ***
Two and a half years later…
Cameron sat in front of her computer in the trailer. She just finished some coding for the new update for Phoenix. The company was doing well these days and things weren’t as intense as in the beginning. Hers and Donna’s company slowly became only hers. Donna was more involved at first but soon found out she can’t juggle between two jobs and taking care of the girls. Her position at Symphonic Ventures had cost her too much and she couldn’t leave it. And honestly her name and power in the VC firm presented her with more options and opportunities in the business field.  So she chose to spend more time there, which was fair. Also she and Trip seemed quite close these days.  Cam had to admit that despite Trip’s annoying nature the guy was smart and charming. It seemed like his smile finally warmed Donna’s heart. The poor guy chased her like a love sick puppy and after a year she accepted to go on a date with him. Now they were dating but not something serious yet. Cam smiled remembering how Donna loved to complain about him before, how he was trying to sabotage her, turned out he was trying to team up with her.
Friends, Cam and Donna were just friends, not partners. Not anymore. And that was good, healthy for both of them. It started out this way but only so they can close that page of their life and not wonder “What if”. Donna still helped and came for brainstorming sessions, expressed opinion but nothing major. They both stayed out of their way but at the same time were there for each other in hard moments and in sharing excitement and happiness. It showed Cam that she was able to sustain a meaningful relationship without mixing work and personal life. Something she tried but didn’t know how to do before. Now instead of a working partner she had something better – a best friend, and didn’t have to worry that her professional decisions will stain their bond. She felt lighter. Cleaner.
It was getting dark outside. One more Saturday spent in work. Nothing new.  At this point Cameron’s social life was again becoming nonexistent. If it weren’t for Donna’s business parties the only people she met were her six coders at work, Donna and the girls and occasionally Bos. He and Diane traveled a lot in the past two years, one long honeymoon they said. She was so happy for him, he deserved this.
Catherine shut down the computer and walked out of the trailer heading towards her house. Yes, her new home. She build it. At first she wasn’t even sure if she should keep the land, not after all her memories there with Joe, their plans, her hopes. Finally she decided she won’t run anymore and try to make things work, after all she bought the land with the intent to build something permanent for her. God knows she lived long without a place to truly call a home. And here was perfect – beautiful, quiet, peaceful. She kept the trailer though, her new home office, that silver tube was her safe happy bubble.        
Joe… Joe didn’t call or write, or email, or anything really. The only person with whom he kept contact was Haley. At first Cam wanted to ask her about him, how was he, what was he doing, did he find someone new, but then decided against it. If he wanted her to know these things he would have told her, he would have reached out. But he didn’t. The first few months her heart would jump with hope every time the phone rang, as time passed that hope slowly died because he was never at the other end of the line. And her emails were all left unanswered. She asked him if he was angry, what was wrong, how was he doing. Nothing. Radio silence. A taste of her own medicine she supposed.  
Honestly it pissed her off. Yes, they separated because they wanted different things at the time, but for him to just up and leave…
She missed him. 
Joe once told her he would like to know her in his life and now he just cut their connection, cut her off completely. It hurt. The night they broke up she never thought she’d be losing not only a lover but a good friend. And like she said to Donna she didn’t have many of those.
Now she buried herself in work trying not to think how lonely her life had become. She met with Donna and the girls regularly and they spent all holidays together but after some time she started to feel like an intruder. She saw their connection and unconditional love towards each other and it felt like she was forcing herself in their home. 
At first she thought she wanted her carrier, that that was what was going to make her happy and fulfilled. She was married before and it had felt like a trap, never felt right, she always had to make compromises with herself, with her goals. A rash decision when she was young. Then jumped into another relationship too quickly, feeling lost and seeking protection and forgiveness. Can somebody give their all in a relationship if they are still fighting their inner demons and don’t feel complete as a person?  Cam first had to find out who she was, to do things for herself and stop putting her interests aside. During the last two years she had a chance to do that and it felt great, yes, but she wanted more.
She wanted what Donna had. Someone to come back to. Someone to wait for her and kiss her when she opened the front door. Full house. Family. Husband. Kids… What Joe wanted before. The exact reason why he left her. She was a fool. Stupid fool still holding on to memories. Fresh starts were always hard for her.
She opened the fridge - nothing. She guessed cereal for dinner wasn’t going to be so bad. She filled her bowl and sat in front of the TV. Some stupid game show. 
She had to wrap her present for Haley soon. Tomorrow was her big 18th birthday. She was turning into a smart young woman. Time flies so quickly. When Cam asked her what she wanted, Haley actually gave her a list of books about coding. And Cam bought them, every single one. It warmed her heart because that was something they both shared, love for code. She often sought Cam’s help with her projects or came with a question about some functions. Her progress amazed Cameron and honestly made her feel proud.
The gathering would be small. At least that’s what Donna told her. Haley didn’t want something big. Okay. Even better for Cam. At least she won’t be surrounded with a bunch of teenagers and won’t have to make fake chit-chat. It would be more intimate, just them and Bos and Diane. Family of choice. Trip? Probably not, the girls weren’t completely okay with him yet.
Cameron put her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and went for a bath. A nice long hot bath. She loved a good bath. She took a lot of baths in Japan…  
Another Saturday scratched on the calendar.
 *** 
The evening was cold. Cam guessed they’ll be celebrating inside. No pool tonight. She knocked on the door. Donna opened hurriedly, stepped outside and pulled her to the side. Her big eyes full of concern. Something was wrong.
“He is here.”
The whole world stopped for a second, her heart went in her throat.
Joe was here.
Anger. Annoyance. Happiness. Sadness. Relief. Love.
Emotions, so many emotions.
And Donna knew. She understood.
Donna cared and decided to prepare her for what was behind that door…  
 ***
The front door slowly opened. And there he was. Joe Macmillan. He looked different, calmer. Content. The harsh lines around his eyes were gone and despite the years he looked younger.
When he saw Cam his whole face lit up and the truest smile appeared on his face. The smile that he saved only for her.
All was forgiven, all was forgotten.
Past, present and future collided.  
“Hello, Cam.”
Her mouth was dry.
“Hello, Joe.”
Tears in her eyes. He seemed happy to see her.
Maybe... just maybe... this time…
Hope.
Chapter 2 ---> https://simplyrali.tumblr.com/post/167493972230/hope-chapter-2-jameron-fanfiction
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sea-of-voiices · 7 years
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Hello again, imaginary audience! How have I been, you ask? Well, aside from a streak of promiscuity for the sake of self harm and exploration of myself and what I want, I’ve been just peachy! Hm. Anyway. Topic for another entry.
See, today, we’ll be talking about someone new. Rose is their moniker, and also their name, but not really? It’s a long story. But you’ll like them, trust me. It’s hard not to.
Rose is one of my oldest friends. I’ve known them since I was a wee 12, 13 year old girl, still crawling through Pokémon forums and nurturing this writing habit through group roleplay threads. It was a fun time, I really miss it. But I digress, what I’m getting at is that I’ve known them for around a decade. Which, given my propensity for being left behind, is an awful lot of time to know someone. And sure, I have some pretty old friends in my life, one I’ve known since third grade, there’s also Atlas that I’ve known since high school, but Rose is just. Different.
When I say they know me, I mean they know me. They know things about me I’ve never opened up about to anyone else, not as sincerely as I have with them anyway. I don’t think there’s anyone I’ve felt as safe being vulnerable with as I do with them. Not even Author got to that level, if I’m being frank even with her I felt apprehension sometimes. We’ve shared so many things, done so much together, it almost feels like a cosmic joke that they live so far away from me (3,446km to be exactish). But honestly, I could not call them anything else than one of my best if not the best friend I’ve ever had. They see me for who I am, this messed up little husk who can’t help but try her best, and they don’t expect anything from me. They don’t expect me to change, to be someone I’m not, they only offer me unconditional and pure love, and all the support they can muster. And let me tell you, when it’s been like this for 10 years without break, it’s kinda hard not to stop and think about it the way I am right now.
And that’s what I want to get to right now. That love they offer to me. See, audience, we’ve tried the whole long distance relationship thing. Multiple times, even. And, well, if my past few entries are any indication, it hasn’t exactly worked out. They have their problems just like I do, and things with us tend to kind of, fizzle out, usually because of the distance, mostly because there’s things we go through that make it difficult to continue. We stop talking for a little while usually afterwards, then start again like nothing happened. Because of course, we care for each other too much to let even that break us apart.
The point, though, is this: I always feel myself leaning towards them whenever I’m hurt the way I have been recently. Not in a rebound, I-can’t-be-by-myself-woe-is-me kind of way. More like, when I’m this hurt and vulnerable and hopeless, I always remember that they’re there, always have been, arms and heart open. And when I talk to them, I feel this calmness surround me. Like things aren’t terrible and I can let my guard down and relax. We talked on the phone after a really long time recently, and hearing their voice was so soothing. I was laughing, smiling, I felt so... so happy again. It was lovely.
A part of me wants to pursue it again. With how much we’ve grown since we last tried it, I wonder if it wouldn’t be as impossible this time. I go through the tag they have for me and see their feelings pour out and it makes me wonder what’s stopping me from pursuing something as pure and wonderful as this. Lord knows I’m not going to find what I want hooking up with people I barely know just so I can come out feeling used and unsatisfied. But then I think about the possibility of hurting them, not even hurting myself but them, and I step back. I care so much for them, even if I’ve been distant, and I really don’t want to do wrong for them. They’re so, so good, you know? They’re not perfect, they have their flaws, but they’re a wonderful, warm, loving person at their core. They have so much love, so much kindness, their voice is like a song. It’s ridiculous that anyone could intentionally hurt them.
I don’t know how to feel about it, honestly. When I look to the future, I do often see one with them in it. We’ve discussed it so many times, so again, how could I not? We’ve gone as far as talk about marriage once or twice. And we’re so compatible too! We have so many things in common, we want the same things, we’re both absolutely ace so even that is a non-issue. But the distance worries me. My issues worry me. Their issues worry me. I really, really would like to try it again, but I don’t know.
I should really talk to them instead of writing all this down in a blog nobody reads, shouldn’t I? It helps stabilize my thoughts, at least, so there’s that. Guess I’ll write about how all that goes, then. Wish me luck, audience.
Written August 2 after smiling like a dork going through their princesa tag.
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