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xmorguekittyx · 7 months

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Ever Locked

Part 6: What More Could You Want?

Part 5: Now You Know From What

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

warnings: masterbating, cowgirl, peepingtom!Leon, stalker!Leon, talks of drugging, talks of sex

Dead Dove Do Not Eat

extra: gonna shoot for once a week updates for as long as i have 10 hour shifts, im hoping in december they stop. i really can’t stand this job you guys and i feel like my writing reflects how little time i have but don’t give up on me! im not giving up and i really want to get immersed into this world im creating for Leon and Reader!

Everything. I couldn't tear her down, tell her about the horrendous creatures I saw that god awful night. She didn't realize how much danger she was in, those- those people- they didn't help any. Mary, Marie, Marina- whatever her name was, she was one of those people, watching as they ate. My pretty girl rolling her eyes as the blue haired girl spoke, pointing her fork at my sweet bunny. Sweet, saccharine bunny. She was so far but so close, it's like her scent intertwined with mine, keeping her just in my mind enough for my peace to stay fleeting.

The device sits on the desk, the dark hotel room, once again, a comfort for a passing moment. Ice tapping on the glass, a sound to break the stoic silence as the glass rolls on the edge of the glass, fingers directing the liquor to tip from side to side. Screen flashing as texts spiral in. 'Leon, you're a literal asshole. Rebecca's worried and least you could do was tell us why you're in Seattle fucking Washington. Can you not get a good feel of Washington in D.C.?.', a scoff came from the back of my throat, of course. He always thought i needed to be baby sat, needed someone watching my every move like a rat in a cage. D.S.O could survive a few days while i got my plan in place. The rim of the glass pressed to the scruffy part of my bottom lip, cold and smooth before i lift it higher, downing the liquid, feeling it burn the back of my throat as a moan left my lips.

Slipping my fingers under the device, flipping it open to show the keypad. Fingers typing quickly as the buzz filled my mind. Can't lose the confidence i had quickly built, by the time my fingers had finished the message, the feeling of untouchable power slipped away, before hitting the button to send it to the woman who threw my mind in a pandora's box of thoughts. The bubble stays for seconds, then minutes. Surely, she's seen it. She hadn't been too dismissive of my return. Answering my call and talking to me, almost edging me into a state of euphoria to know that maybe, just maybe, i'd dug myself into her brain enough to keep her baited.

Thoughts of hopping on my bike and barreling to the little home, pushing my way into the door way to find her... all prettied up for that damned boyfriend she had. My head lulled into the crook of my arm, the warmth of my own skin causing a flush to come across my cheeks, heating up the skin, flushing it, bending my back into an uncomfortable arch. Wondered what she felt like, if she was still embarrassed when she stopped nude, if she'd grown confidence and thought she was as beautiful as she always had been. I just wanted a taste, a lick of her delicate flesh, watching the skin as it dimpled under my fingers, causing her eyes to roll back and her words to become less than whispers. Her needy little moans cut off prematurely as i felt for more, pressing into the skin more as she whined.

With those questions came more, did she like the way he was with her? Was he soft and sweet on her, caressing her delicate skin with his tongue and grateful for every second he had the chance to touch her? He wouldn't have it long, not much longer and Od finally have the moment of weakness and snatch her away. Maybe drug her, maybe let her fight back. A pulling at the corner of my lips curled into a smirk, thinking of her holding up a knife and trying to stab at me, unlike the night she froze, staring from the corner of her doe eyes, watching a big bad wolf show its fangs so deathly close to the fragile bunny. To kiss death and fate so tenderly before succumbing to its hand- or in this case, a mug. The sound of her head cracking against the glass then floor rant through my mind. I couldn't help it, she was so... idiotic and pretty. A simple minded creature needing guidance in a world full of snakes and predators, looking for easy, pretty, temping prey.

My eyes flicker to the phone once more, expecting anything, something from the prey. Nothing, not a damn thing. No 'don't message me ever again's or 'im going to call the police, Leon's. Nothing. That, that made me feel a nasty pit in my stomach, the thoughts of driving over to their home and seeing for myself what had her so airheaded she couldn't reply to a message. Maybe even see how Ryland- Ryan- touched her, was he too delicate? Did he know that she does like it rough, at least a little? Was he too rough, leaving her nervous and frightened? The thought kind of turned him on, imagining how leaving him did nothing but potentially put you in another psycho's arms.

The thoughts became actions as the keys jingled from the grip i had on them, maybe i was still a bit more protective than i needed to be. This was for her safety, damnit. Nothing beat trying to keep those predators from her, than a predator himself. Every red light felt like it was hours long, leg bouncing, waiting for the light to change into that 'go' green. Eyes watching streetlights become blurs as the distance closes from between her and I. I can almost feel her, almost taste that sweet taste that only she can produce for my senses to take in.

My heart ramps up as i get to the small drive way, turning off the lights to my bike, parking up at the tip of the path. Couldn't let her get a peek, she knew too much. I liked to rush things, like letting her see me and talking to her, setting up what i wanted to be a comfort, letting her know i'm not angry at her for leaving me, she didn't have to stay with this guy anymore, now. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, as i feel the ground shift, legs nearly buckling as the only window with lights stemming from it, catch my attention. Guiding my wavering stance to push forwards, as my fingers wrap around the frame, it hits me. Seeping into my ears a soft 'Ah, ah, ah, Ry~', muffled by the wall separating us, her voice was so dirty, something enough to send me straight to hell for the things i think of her. A temptress shied away into a human body.

"Ryan~", my eyes snap up at her voice, my eyes nest pop out at the scene. "Yeah, did he make you feel this good? Bet he didn't.", Ryan's deep voice, echoing around the room as soft slaps of flesh on flesh sound out. His hands dug under her thighs as he assisted her in riding him. Keeping her pace for herself and him, watching his cock head nearly slip from her hole had my cock weeping. Her hair falling over that face, eyes closed and head back as she whined, crying silently as he abused her little cunt. How is wanted to just walk in there and force my way into those velvety walls and take what was and IS mine. Her whines were accompanied by a smack, landing on her ass as she bounced on him. "Dirty bitch- can't have me loving on you sweet and soft-", Ryan's head tilted back against the pillow, their black bed sheets all bunched up and messy. "Gotta be treated like some cheap slut.", he groaned as her hips bucked up. "Dirty bitch...", i couldn't help but repeat, seeing how her hips filled out in 7 years, watching her tits bounce and her arms tense as she struggled to keep herself upright on his cock. Her cunt- MY cunt- sucking him in with a squelching sound, her moans followed by a whimper as she lost her rhythm. "Good girl- fuck-!", his hands dig into the plump of her hip, "gonna snap my cock in half, pretty.", the huff of air falling from my nostrils fogged the glass as i hadn't realized i'd moved so close, watching as my girl, my bunny, came apart on another man's cock. It made me fucking sick.

My fingers came up, flipping the phone until it opened, scrolling to get to my camera before snapping a picture of Ryan, who now has moved to bend her over the bed, snapping his hips quickly into her. The picture was shitty quality, but it DEFINITELY got the point across as I hit the send button, patience is a virtue i never really had. Eager impatience, sheer excitement causing me to become annoying as a rookie. The muscles in my jaw ached, from biting back a moan as i palmed myself over my jeans, also aching from how tense i'd been while watching. The stiffness of my cock had be aching for some type of pleasure, pulling my jeans to my knees as i whip it out. Looking at it in the moon light, it was so flushed pink, begging to find a home in that pussy, eyes lingering on his hips as they lost themselves into a bliss, his bunny's face pressed into the mattress, just an opening from her eyes and he'd run. He felt his palm heating up as he pumped his aching cock, watching her lips part into a wince/moan. He felt his cock twitch, spilling white sticky ropes over a plant by the window. "Shit-", i hissed, realizing this is definitely evidence i was here, but it was meant to rain more tonight, he'd be fine. He always was.

Now she didn't care to look or open her eyes while her love was blowing back shot after back shot into her right pussy. Ryan's hand ran her back, easing her up into his chest. "Good girl, my good slut.", his hands brushed down her hair, comforting her after such a rough scene. I wanted to scream, that should be me, holding her in my arms, coaxing her into relaxation. I have a house, much bigger than this that she can have entirely to herself, one I built for her. She'd be so grateful if she'd just talk to me. Just let me "repair" the damage I'd caused. I wouldn't totally rush her, but imaging a world where she was swole, child on her hip and cheeks rosy from leaning over some food she'd been preparing, her eyes wide as I walk home and get to place a huge kiss on her lips, tasting the food on her lips, as she cooked his favorite meal.

My hand slowly pumped out the rest, watching as she reached up for her phone. Ryan holding into her as she grabbed it and yelped, she must've see the photo. The phone in his pockets dinging as he used his non cum covered hand struggling as to not drop the phone but as soon as he opens the device. Bunny's name, her contact completely, the same from 7 years ago as it flashed on the screen, he ducked, quickly, laying in a thorn bush. Damn Chris, always blowing up my fucking phone for some sort of reaching out to get me to come back or explain myself… how do i explain what i’m doing? "Fuck~", I whined, looking up as I saw my bunny close to the window looking off into the distance, looking for me as she buttoned up what looked like one of Ryan's shirts. It hurt... but what more could i want? what more could you want, bunny?

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gatheringbones · 1 year

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[“Alex tells me he had long been aware of the existence of transsexuals, and he had even contemplated transitioning earlier in his life. He had known a couple of people over the years who had transitioned, but he had no idea of how to go about doing so, and he lacked the money and the wherewithal.

In the early 1990s, “the conversation changed,” he says, making it possible for him to contemplate transitioning. He heard about support groups for transgender men. FTM groups were forming in San Francisco and Seattle. A burgeoning “queer” movement was challenging the dominance of radical feminist ideas and was offering female-assigned individuals who wished to embrace their inner maleness a way to do so affirmatively, with a sense of pride. Writers and activists like Sandy Stone and Kate Bornstein were talking about a different, more expansive understanding of the radical potential of gender switching, rejecting medicalized notions of trans people as having the “wrong body,” or as being mentally deficient. The term “transgender” was established as a way to move beyond the medical model of “transsexualism” and to include a broad array of gender-variant persons who wished to challenge the binary. It enabled Alex to call himself transgender.

“I did not want to have to say I was ‘crazy.’ I don’t even like saying I’m dysphoric, though I fit the narrative,” says Alex. “I didn’t start T until I found a very good doctor who didn’t demand a letter from a therapist. I wouldn’t confess dysphoria in order to get access to top surgery. I won’t do it. Why would I want to make myself even more marginal?” However, once there was a “weakening of pathology, of judgment,” he decided to move forward.

Meanwhile, Kristin, Alex’s closest friend, settled in Seattle after graduation, where she found an accepting culture and a lively butch presence in the lesbian community. She worked for a state representative, and when she visited the state capitol to lobby on his behalf, people sometimes perceived her “as a boy.” But mainly she felt okay about looking different, and she fell in love with a woman, Jennie, who affirmed her right to be who she was. Kristin is pretty flat chested and small hipped, and “looks like she wants to,” more or less. She presented as a masculine female. It helped that her family tended to be supportive. “Even though I don’t really operate as a woman, I operate in the sphere of women, and there were a lot of really strong women in my big Polish family!” Also her dad, now deceased, was queer, and her brother (who appears in this book) is a transgender man.

Because Kristin, unlike Alex, received a lot of support for her gender nonconformity, she said it never became a major source of distress for her—which isn’t to say that it hasn’t been a challenge at times. She contemplated transitioning for a while but eventually made peace with her body. Being in therapy helped. “I thought that my anxiety was special and everyone else was normal,” she tells me. But as she found ways to ease her generalized sense of anxiety, she became more comfortable with her body and her gender nonconformity. “I thought, ‘Why do I care so much about what other people think about my gender?’ I have a right. I have a fucking right to be who I am,” she tells me, her voice cracking.

And as she became more comfortable with herself, she found ways to deal with bathroom confrontations. “Now when people come up to me and tell me I’m in the wrong bathroom, sometimes I look my body up and down and look at them quizzically and say, ‘Oh, really?’ Thanks!” She makes light of it. “The more comfortable I am, the more likely they are to think I’m in the right place and leave me alone. Now it’s even funny at times.” But airports, she says, are still particularly challenging. Heightened security seems to extend to the policing of gendered bodies in bathrooms. The other day, a blond woman in her fifties came over to her as she entered a bathroom stall and started yelling, “You’re in the wrong place—the men’s room is over there.” Kristin just smiled and said, “Thank you,” and the woman left in a hurry.

“I get why some people transition,” says Kristin, “to be normal, and not have people gawking at you all day. It takes a whole lot of energy.” Still, she came to the conclusion that transitioning would not solve her problems, and that it might open up new, unknown challenges.

Alex, on the other hand, made the decision to modify his body and present as a male, and it has made his life much easier. He no longer gets harassed walking down the street, and he’s no longer as angry. “I still look young,” he tells me, “but at least the beard and receding hairline prove I’m through puberty!” He is much happier now, he says. “I honestly don’t feel I’ve changed that much. That is, ‘transitioning’ didn’t change me so much as it forced others to see me as I saw myself. Yes, the bodily transformations were welcome and comforting. I felt that I was finally ‘home.’ But how do you separate that feeling from the sense that you’re finally recognized by others for how you see yourself?”]

arlene stein, from unbound: transgender men and the remaking of identity, 2018

#arlene stein #gender stuff #currently reading #trans literature #lesbian literature

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moorheadthanyoucanhandle · 5 months

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EIGHT MEN IN

Merry Christmas everyone! Now in theaters:

The Boys in the Boat--The 1936 Berlin Olympics was a highly satisfying episode for the good guys. Most famously, when Der Fuehrer said his was the Master Race, Jesse Owens heiled (phfft!) heiled (phfft!) right in Der Fuehrer's face. It wasn't enough to prevent the war that was coming, but it was a great foreshadowing of who would win.

Yet alongside that glorious debunking of supposed Aryan racial superiority, right under the noses of its promulgators, was another splendid underdog story. Briefly played by Jyuddah Jaymes, Owens is a minor figure in this period spectacle about the improbable rise of the University of Washington's eight-man crew to compete for the U.S. in those same games. It's directed by George Clooney from a script by Mark L. Smith, based on Daniel James Brown's 2013 book.

The story was remarkable before the crew got to Berlin. The UW boys were already upstarts in the sport, long associated with elite, affluent Eastern schools. This crew included working class, Depression-era grunts; the focus is on Joe Rantz (Callum Turner), who when we first meet him is literally homeless. He lives in a junked car in a Seattle hobo jungle, patching the holes in the soles of his shoes while trying to eke out an engineering degree. He joins the crew for the stipend and the roof over his head.

"Eight-man crew is the most difficult of all team sports," the coach here pronounces to the aspirants. "The average human body is just not meant for such things." I once had occasion to learn first-hand that my below-average human body wasn't meant for such things. Two of my nieces rowed crew, and back in the '80s I myself had the opportunity to take a one-man shell out onto the Potomac River; my near-helplessness in managing to get the thing to go anywhere gave me a small taste of how much delicate skill the sport requires, even setting aside its physical demands.

The Boys in the Boat gets across hints of this subtle precision; Clooney shows us, for instance, the hiccup-y little wrist-flip that precedes the return stroke. There's a great deal to like about the film, really, starting with what a wonderful, heartening story it tells. It's handsomely produced, with lustrous cinematography by Martin Ruhe, crisp editing by Tanya M. Swerling and another lovely score by Alexander Desplat. And it has rich, sometimes fascinating period detail, like the swanky spectator trains that run along the river banks at the fancier courses.

But as with several of Clooney's earlier directorial efforts, this movie is well-made, well-intentioned, good-hearted and generally enjoyable without being entirely satisfying. And unlike, say, The Monuments Men or The Tender Bar, it doesn't even have vivid star character actors to liven things up.

Joel Edgerton as Coach Al Ulbrickson and Peter Guinness as master boat-maker George Pocock are authoritative presences, but not complex characters. The guys playing the crew aren't, as in the standard sports movie template, a ragtag band of misfits with distinctive oddball personalities; they're just pleasant, good-looking young men. Rantz's coed love interest (Hadley Robinson) tries to generate some playful, mischievous heat, but she's rowing upstream opposite her bland leading man.

Overall, this film has the flavor of a feature length Super Bowl commercial. Like the best of those commercials, it can raise an inspirational tingle. But I don't know that it does much more in two hours than a good Super Bowl commercial can do in sixty seconds.

#the boys in the boat #george clooney #joel edgerton #callum turner #hadley robinson #peter guinness #olympics #alexander desplat #jesse owens

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anintrovertwriter · 1 year

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Embry Call imagine - Campfire

It was already nighttime when I got back to Forks, but just in time for me to get changed before heading to the res. Tonight was the campfire night held by the ancients and I was invited by my boyfriend Embry. People like me, who were not from the tribe, weren’t supposed to be here, but because I was Embry’s imprint I had the right to come.

I was getting closer to my friends group, and Embry was amongst them. Sensing my arrival, he came to meet me.

“ Hey

Hey baby, he said, holding me in his muscular arms. Everything okay on the road ?

Yeah, a bit of rain at the start, but that’s nothing new. But it was okay”

I just came back from a conference in Seattle that I was really looking forward to and I couldn’t miss it under any pretext. This long day must have been tiring me, especially the three-hour ride my mom and I did, because I started to yawn. Which made him laugh as he joked

“ Don’t you dare fall asleep during the stories! You’ll offend Billy and Sue.

I wouldn't dare ! I said,laughing.”

But obviously, the opposite quite happened..

We were all seated around the campfire, listening to the Quileutes legends, and were told by Jacob’s father and Sue, who took the place of her late husband at the council since poor Harry Clearwater passed away.

Another particularity of this night was the presence of Bella. Jake took her and I was not the only “pale face” present tonight. It was Jake’s turn to protect her, because, as Embry told me, Edward was gone hunting to get some force before the upcoming fight. Which was getting me nervous.

I went to say hi to her when I saw her coming. We were at the same high school and had the american literature class in common. We get along pretty well and I was happy to see her even if her relationship with a vampire and the pain Jacob was getting from it made me feel awkward.

Even Though I knew the secret around the Quileutes and their transformation into wolves, and being Embry’s imprint, I never heard the legends of the tribe. This is why he took me there and I was delighted. The explanation due to their mutation related to the presence of their longtime enemy, the vampires of course, made me turn to see Bella, who was seated next to Jacob. Embry followed my gaze, chuckling, even though I knew deep down that he was simmering with hate towards these creatures of the night.

However, when Billy Black mentioned the tense atmosphere in the area and the transformation of more and more young Quileutes, such as Leah or Seth and the fact that we got to be ready for whatever was coming made me quickly hold my boyfriend’s arm while hearing those words. The idea of the fight got me so stressed. He placed his hand on my thigh and gently kissed my forehead.

He didn’t seem afraid, unlike me. I leant my head on his shoulder and he reassured me, or at least tried to, telling me in my ears that everything will be alright. But I couldn’t stop imagining the worst. My life without him will have no meaning.

The more the legends were being told the more my eyelids were getting heavy. I did exactly what I promised myself not to, the tiredness of the journey to Seattle got the best of me.

Those were Paul and Quil’s laughs who woke me up. Embry started to growl by way of disapproval but they still continued their teasing, calling us ‘lovebirds' '.

“ I really fell asleep ! Oh no !” I said, rubbing my eyes.

I gave an embarrassed side look to Sue and Billy and also to Embry because I really wanted to hear those stories. Just as he read my mind he told me

“Don’t worry it’s no big deal that you fell asleep. They know you really wanted to listen, after the countless time you asked them to

Yeah but still…

No worries, you’ll come back next time.”

With this he took me in his arms as if I weighed nothing and carried me to his place, not without saying goodbye to his packlates. It was clear that I was fighting against sleep on the way, only to talk with my man. But I was so good and cozy, my body against his warm chest, him who did not fear the cold, unlike me. I closed my eyes of contentment.

“ We’re home my love”. He dropped me on his bed and helped me put my pajamas on, which was one of his shirts. It was way too long for me but it really did the job. There was his scent on hit, which made me think of home. He was everything to me, my home, my universe, my life.

“ Are you going on patrol tonight?, I worried

No Sam gave me the night but I should go at dawn. But I’ll be back before you know it”

I only could make a “hum” in appreciation, my head against his torso and him stroking my hair, which only emphasized my sleep.

“Stop this ! If not I will fall asleep baby”

Go to sleep, I’ll be back when you wake up and you’ll tell me about Seattle.”

I love you Em’, I said, kissing him tenderly and got back in my sleeping position, my head on his chest, his heartbeat bullying me to sleep.

I love you too princess”

#embry call imagine #twilight imagine #embry call

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nightfall-by-jacqui-natla · 11 months

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Previous Chapter Next Chapter

1. FLAME HAIR

SEATTLE WAS CURRENTLY UNDER SIEGE AND the death toll continued to rise. This has been reported in the newspapers for several months. I didn't pay much attention to it and thought it was just a way for the newspapers to grab attention. However, unlike the newspapers, I am not noticed.

Metaphorically speaking, invisibility had been a constant in my life for as far back as I could recall. Whenever I spoke up or took action, such as raising my hand, those around me would turn their heads and utter phrases like "where did you come from?" or "I didn't see you there," despite my proximity to them.

I was being pursued by three male bikers and I attempted to escape from them.

“Come on, sugar cakes," one of them yelled in a rough voice.

"We just want to have some fun," another one chuckled sickly.

What they wanted was not going to be enjoyable. It would be enjoyable for them, but not for me. I then stopped in an alley and continued running, my feet pounding on the damp ground. I kept running until I reached a brick wall and stopped. I heard one of the bikers laughing and then stopping, staring at me with confusion.

“Wait a minute," the man with auburn beard said. "Where is she?"

What? They couldn't be serious. I was standing right in the middle of the wall. How could they not have seen me?

The man with the bandana said, “She ran down this way.”

The short blonde man added, “She can't be far.”

Suddenly, a woman with flaming red curly hair landed between me and the bikers. The men laughed at her and one of them wolf-whistled. But she killed them one by one with her bare hands and teeth, like a bear tearing apart three fish. I watched in horror as the flame-haired woman slaughtered the bikers.

After her attack, she turned around slowly, revealing blood on the corner of her mouth and her eyes matching the blood. Her red eyes widened as if surprised by my presence, then she smiled creepily at me.

“I didn't see you there, did I?” The woman spoke pleasantly to me.

Normally, I would have been irritated by her response, but I was frightened. I was unable to move my body. Suddenly, she sprinted towards me and seized my neck. She shoved me against the brick wall and turned my head to the right. My breathing became rapid as my nerves heightened in terror.

"You would make a great addition to my army," she growled in a whisper, her teeth just inches from my neck.

Her sharp teeth pierced my skin, and I felt a burning sensation inside me. It was like acid coursing through my veins and body. She hurled me to the ground and watched as I writhed in agony.

The sensation of burning overwhelmed me as I stared up at the flame-haired woman. A male with red eyes and sharp teeth emerged from the shadows, poised to attack me. However, the woman stopped him with a command. My body convulsed as an unknown substance coursed through me, feeling like acid. The acidic water consumed my organs and bones, causing unbearable pain.

All I could think was "It burns. It burns so bad."

Despite wanting to beg for death, I could only scream until everything went black.

My eyes burst open, and the world came into focus with a clarity that was almost blinding. It was as if I had been transported into a high-definition television set, every detail sharp and vivid. I found myself lying in a strange place, the unfamiliar surroundings staring back at me with a cold, unfeeling gaze. I turned my head, trying to get my bearings, and slowly rose to my feet.

"Good, you're awake," a woman's voice echoed through the room.

I spun around, my eyes locking onto the woman with flame-red hair. Her face was paler than I had expected, but her eyes burned with a fierce intensity that sent shivers down my spine. A Cheshire Cat smile crept across her lips.

"What's your name, newborn?" she asked me.

Newborn? The word echoed through my mind, and I struggled to remember who I was.

"Tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine," she said, her voice dripping with honeyed sweetness.

"V-Violet?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Violet," she hummed, her eyes glittering with amusement. "I am Victoria, and you are my third in command."

"Wait, what?" I asked, my confusion mounting.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Victoria giggled. "I'm creating an army to get back at my enemy. You see, he did something to make me sad, and I want revenge."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. "What are you? What am I?"

"We're vampires," she said, her voice lilting with a musical quality.

"But vampires are myths," I protested weakly.

"Ah, but we're real," Victoria said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She turned to the blonde male with red eyes. "This is Riley, my second in command."

"And mate," Riley spat out, wrapping his arm around Victoria's waist possessively.

Victoria smiled at him before turning her gaze back to me. Riley's eyes bore into me, as if daring me to respond. All I could do was stare at them, my mind struggling to comprehend the impossible reality that had suddenly become my life.

"Do any of you happen to have a mirror or something?" I inquired of my companions.

Riley gestured towards a battered car with a shattered window. "There's one over there, but it's seen better days."

Undeterred, I strode past them towards the decrepit vehicle. As I approached the still window, a reflection began to form. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't my own. The woman staring back at me had luscious raven locks cascading down to her chest, a complexion as pale as freshly fallen snow, and piercing blood-red eyes that mirrored those of Riley and Victoria. She was clad in a black leather bomber jacket, a dark grey top, ripped black jeans, and black converse shoes. I blinked, and my reflection mimicked my actions.

It was then that Victoria's voice cut through the silence, her tone stern and unwavering.

"As a newborn, there are two rules you must follow," she began, her eyes fixed on me. "Firstly, avoid sunlight at all costs. It will be the end of you. And secondly, do not cause any disturbances amongst humans. We must keep our existence a secret."

I nodded, my lips pursed in agreement. Riley interjected, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"Sunrise is approaching. We must find shelter," he warned, his voice urgent.

Without hesitation, we ran. The wind whipped through my hair, and my heart pounded in my chest. It was as if I had been granted superhuman abilities, straight out of a comic book.

As the sun began to rise, we found refuge. And with that, my life as a human came to an end.

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pajama-nerd · 1 year

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Podcasting

I started listening to The Black Tapes.

I applaud their success.

The story itself seems to be going to very interesting places.

The pace and the writing are painful to endure.

And let me interrupt myself to acknowledge that my opinion means absolutely nothing. The story is finished, and also, who the fuck cares, but dear god. As a person with ADHD, having to listen to the inane back and forth filler that could have been cut in order to tell a story is agonizing.

I regularly have to pause the podcast to gird my loins to deal with inane, unnecessary filler to a story that could be going much more smoothly, much more quickly.

Some examples:

From Episode 2, Season 2

ALEX: Hello. STRAND: Hello. ALEX: Dr. Strand. STRAND: Yes. ALEX: How- are you okay? STRAND: I’m calling for an update. Did you manage to find anything about Coralee? ALEX: Where are you? STRAND: I don’t have much time. ALEX: Are you sure you’re okay? STRAND: Please? Coralee. ALEX: Okay, well, Nic was able to dig up a few things on Thomas Warren. STRAND: Yes. Good. ALEX: Well, I’m not sure about good. It turns out he’s something of an enigma. He’s worked as a lobbyist on both sides of the environmental issue, climate change and energy mainly. He splits his time between San Francisco, London, and Seattle, but he’s often…well, he travels a lot. STRAND: Were you able to find a connection between him and Coralee? ALEX: Not directly, but there was something. STRAND: What? ALEX: Nic was able to find the name of a company. STRAND: What company? ALEX: The company that paid for your residency in Seattle. STRAND: They’ve paid for me to lecture in the past. There’s nothing there. ALEX: Well…that’s not exactly true. STRAND: No? ALEX: No. The not-for-profit company listed on your schedule of employment isn’t actually the company of record, that must have been a misprint. STRAND: Unlikely. ALEX: Well, then somebody did their best to cloak the entity that was actually paying for you to be in Seattle. STRAND: What entity? ALEX: Well, that’s where it gets a bit complicated. STRAND: How? ALEX: So, Nic tracked down the name of the company and the bank they used to pay the university. STRAND: And? ALEX: And that led him down a rabbit hole through a maze of corporations. He was trying to connect everything to Deva Corporation. STRAND: That’s Thomas Warren’s company? ALEX: One of them. Yes. STRAND: But he couldn’t make the connection? ALEX: No. But he was able to find a physical address for one of the companies, the shipping arm of an import/export firm. It’s in Seattle, so I’m going to check it out as soon as I get back. STRAND: I don’t think I’ll be able to get to Seattle. At least not for a few days. You’ll let me know what you find. ALEX: Yeah, of course. (long pause) ALEX: Hello? Dr. Strand? STRAND: I’m sorry, I have to go.

This exchange takes so much longer than it needs to. Like, yes, we want this to be a dialogue and not a lecture of exposition, but this is what over-correction looks like.

It is not necessary to interrupt the exposition every sentence to get acknowledgement from the listener. Like, on the surface, it looks like active listening. The Listener is part of the conversation.

Except that Active Listening is not just the *acknowledgement of* what the Speaker has said, it's *interaction with* what the person has said, and in the case of a narrative, that interaction has to be both relevant and meaningful, which almost none of this is.

Here's a quick and dirty edit:

ALEX: Hello, Dr. Strand? STRAND: Yes, hello. ALEX: How- are you okay? STRAND: I’m calling for an update. Did you manage to find anything about Coralee? ALEX: Where are you? STRAND: I don’t have much time. Please? Coralee. ALEX: Okay, well, Nic was able to dig up a few things on Thomas Warren. It turns out he’s something of an enigma. He’s worked as a lobbyist on both sides of the environmental issue, climate change and energy mainly. He splits his time between San Francisco, London, and Seattle, but he’s often…well, he travels a lot. STRAND: Were you able to find a connection between him and Coralee? ALEX: Not directly, but there was something. Nic was able to find the name of the company that paid for your residency in Seattle. STRAND: They’ve paid for me to lecture in the past. There’s nothing there. ALEX: Well…that’s not exactly true. The not-for-profit company listed on your schedule of employment isn’t actually the company of record, that must have been a misprint. STRAND: Unlikely. ALEX: Well, then somebody did their best to cloak the entity that was actually paying for you to be in Seattle. STRAND: What entity? ALEX: Well, that’s where it gets a bit complicated. Nic tracked down the name of the company and the bank they used to pay the university. And that led him down a rabbit hole through a maze of corporations. He was trying to connect everything to Deva Corporation. STRAND: That’s Thomas Warren’s company? ALEX: One of them. Yes. He couldn’t find the connection, but he was able to find a physical address for one of the companies, the shipping arm of an import/export firm. It’s in Seattle, so I’m going to check it out as soon as I get back. STRAND: I don’t think I’ll be able to get to Seattle. At least not for a few days. You’ll let me know what you find. ALEX: Yeah, of course. (long pause) ALEX: Hello? Dr. Strand? STRAND: I’m sorry, I have to go.

This is much shorter, cuts out all the unnecessary interaction, saves time on chatter so we can get to the actual story, and doesn't make my brain feel like it's been dipped in acid.

Here's another, just two episodes later:

Episode 4, Season 2:

Nic: This was posted to a rather popular online forum. Alex: Okay, what is it? Nic: It's a countdown timer. Alex: (long pause) Oh...kay. Nic: Well it began as hexadecimal code, and when you converted that to text there was a URL that led to the countdown timer. Alex: Oh. Okay. Nic: It's counting down. Alex: Counting down to what? Nic: It's counting down from April 23rd, 2015 at 3:15 PM, to April 23rd, 2016 at 3:15 PM. Alex: Okay, that's pretty specific. Nic: It certainly is. Alex: And any idea what might be significant about that date? Nic: I don't want to say it out loud. Alex: Uh, what is it? Nic: Well, I feel like a conspiracy nut. Alex: Yeah, but now I'm really interested. Nic: (laughs) Okay, well. Alex: Jesus Nic, you're starting to freak me out a little here. Nic: Okay, well, it's not just a date. It's actually the time as well. Alex: Okay, what about it? Nic: April 23rd at 3:15 PM. Alex: Yeah! So... Nic: It's the exact date and time we heard The Unsound for the first time.

Why.

Why?

There's no reason to draw it out like that I suspect it may have been for suspense, but it did not instill in me a sense of dread, it made me want to tear my hair out because it was so unnecessary! Nic: This was posted to a rather popular online forum. Alex: Okay, what is it? Nic: It's a countdown timer. Alex: (long pause) Oh...kay. Nic: Well it began as hexadecimal code, and when you converted that to text there was a URL that led to the countdown timer. Alex: What's it counting down to? Nic: It's actually counting down *from* April 23rd, 2015 at 3:15 PM, to April 23rd, 2016 at 3:15 PM. Alex: Okay...what's the significance of that? Nic: Well... I don't know what the significance is to whoever posted it, but...I mean, that is the exact time and date that we heard the Unsound for the first time. Boom. Fixed.

Guys.

If people have to fucking struggle to get through each episode just to get to the point of your story?

You're doing a bad job.

At this point, I feel like the mystery is going to unravel and the only thing I'm going to be able to focus on is how much sooner we could have gotten there if they hadn't wasted so much time on bad formatting and terrible, stilted, prolonged dialogue.

#rant #the black tapes #personal #feel free to ignore #too much filler #I want to love this story #but the process of getting there is like pulling teeth with a pair of jeweler's pliers

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 1 year

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GTAW: Chapter 18 Notes

1. If you’re a baseball lover like myself, and want to learn more about Japan’s passion for the sport, and the differences between the American and Japanese philosophies, I’d recommend “You Gotta Have Wa: When Two Cultures Collide on the Baseball Diamond” by Robert Whiting. The two quotes above I got from this book.

But if you don’t want to do that, you can watch this 10 minute video instead.😜

A ⚾️ — Also, there’s no easy way to say this, but the only way to understand baseball is to watch a game. Multiple games, at that. You can watch complete games on YouTube or the MLB website. You can also watch instructional YouTube videos, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be left confused. There are a lot of unwritten rules in baseball and it can be difficult for a beginner to fully grasp them right off the bat (see what I did there?😉). However, I found some videos that might help as you learn.

Brief history of baseball in America (funny/dark humor)

I would also be remissed if I didn’t mention anything about The Negro League. Very important stuff, especially when explaining how baseball first came to Japan.

⭐️The different kinds of pitches.

The history of the baseball cap.

⭐️The official rules of baseball.

B ⚾️ — Major League Baseball (MLB) is the #1 pro baseball organization in the United States (and Canada). It comprises 30 teams and is divided into two leagues: the Nation League (NL), and the American League (AL).

The regular MLB season consists of 162 games a year.

The annual championship of the MLB is known as the World Series. Why it is called the World Series when it’s only held in the United States (and Canada)? Good question. I have absolutely no clue. Chalk it up to American arrogance, I guess.

The MLB is responsible for maintaining and interpreting the official rules of baseball. All international leagues, including those in Korea, Japan, Taiwan, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, Venezuela, you name it, more or less adhere to the official rules of baseball as codified by the MLB. Think of baseball as a regulated good, like champagne or Swiss chocolate.

And to put money in perspective, The New York Yankees are the most valuable MLB team, worth an estimated $7.1 billion alone, which doesn’t even count the other 29 teams, many of whom also range in the billions and multi-millions.

C ⚾️ — The Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) is the #1 professional baseball organization in Japan. Locally it is called the Puro Yakyū. It comprises 12 teams and like the MLB is also divided into two leagues: The Central League (CL), and the Pacific League (PL).

The regular NPB season consists of 130 games a year.

The annual championship of the NPB is called the Japan Series, which makes sense, unlike the MLB.

The two most successful teams in NPB history are the Yomiuri Giants and the Hanshin Tigers.

D ⚾️ — The World Baseball Classic is the FIFA World Cup of baseball, though not as many countries participate. It’s only been around since 2006 and sometimes crazy drama happens and it’s awesome. Most baseball lovers (and I’m thinking specifically of snobbish Americans) consider the World Series to be the ultimate championship, not the WBC, but try telling that to the Japanese.😂

Fun fact. Team Japan were the first WBC champions in 2006 and they are this year's 2023 champions as well. Pretty neat. I watched the game. It was electric. Congratulations Japan!!!🥳🎉🎊👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

E ⚾️ — In the past it was heavily frowned upon for a Japanese player to sign with an MLB team, mainly for two reasons: One, Japanese natives didn’t like their top athletes playing away overseas. And two, it was seen as a selfish money grab. (MLB players get paid A LOT more than their international counterparts.) Although, nowadays when a Japanese player makes it to “the Bigs” it’s seen as an act of national pride, which is why Satoru has a Seattle Mariners “away” jersey (Ichiro Suzuki) and a St. Louis Cardinals “home” jersey (So Taguchi). 🇯🇵

F ⚾️ Satoru says he doesn’t have a favorite player, but when Shohei Ohtani steps onto the scene that all changes. He develops a HUGE man-crush on the guy and won’t shut up about him:

SATORU: The man is a beast, Hannah. A Beast!!!😤

HANNAH: Yes, dear, we know. You’ve said it a million times already.😒

2. Here, Satoru quotes from the Inquiry of Urga. While not a major religious text, I’d like to think Satoru is well versed in many texts. It’s also worth noting that most Japanese are not religious, but I think religion makes the plot more interesting.

3. Okashi Gaku’s “Cake in a Can.”

Overview of some Japanese vending machines. I would love having a security goat. 🐐 I pass on the bugs though.🐜🐜🐜

4. Koishikawa Kōraku-en (Garden for Taking Pleasure Later) really is located right next to the Tokyo Dome as is an amusement park.

The “Big O” Ferris wheel.

Going up inside Tokyo Tower.

The Skytree is actually twice as tall as Tokyo Tower, but I think Tokyo Tower is prettier and more romantic since it’s modeled after the Eiffel Tower, so that was my rationale.

I have no idea whether Hannah would be able to see all of Tokyo from that height, but let’s pretend. Tokyo is massive.

5. This is also a good thing to point out, but my beta reader asked me why I didn’t mention anything about sumo wrestling, since it is technically Japan’s official national sport. Long story short, sumo has been embroiled in a lot of scandals recently and is not as popular with younger audiences. That being said, sumo will never disappear from Japan and holds great cultural significance, but viewership wise, baseball is more popular than sumo. However, you can watch this short video and decide for yourself.

Here is also a brief history of sumo.

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by-kilian · 1 year

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Hello!! I hope you're having a pleasant day!~ For the ask game, I was wondering whether I could hear your answers for 1, 4, 69, and 73?

Hey love! It's so nice to hear from you, I hope you also had a wonderful day! ❤️😘 HAPPY to answer 🤗 below the cut!

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

It's a little bit of both actually. I often know exactly how I want my stories to end because I know the story I want to tell. However, I never know exactly how it will happen and that's the exciting part. I often plan and have what I *think* is the best road to the ending when I first outline a story. But as I write more and my characters grow and things happen, oftentimes things change or get scrapped but for the better. I actually recently discovered that my process is not unlike Neil Gaiman's in which he describes it as taking a roadtrip from Miami to Seattle. You know where you're headed but you have no idea what is truly in store for you along the way. I hope that makes sense!

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

Ohhh....I can't share. 😭😭😭 LMFAO. Because some of them may come out. They may never come out. I don't know. But I think I mentioned before that I have a habit of sitting on stories for literal years before they come to fruition. They sit in my notes as ideas. And idk I just like to let stories marinate because plot bunnies to me never come as ideas for one-shots, they come as ideas for ideally long stories or stories that at least take more than one chapter to tell. "Open Door" was actually one of these plot bunnies that became an official story just recently. I had wanted to write a story about Erwin trying to mend things with a wife whom he had either already gotten a divorce from or was in the middle of divorcing, but never quite liked it until a few tweaks recently. That sink scene? Sat on that for years. Back to the question though, I prefer to sit on plot bunnies because it happens quite often where I sometimes just like them in that moment. If I revisit it and scrap it, I know I was never that invested in it anyway. On the flip side, if I revisit it and still like it and want to keep fleshing it out or even if I just like to read it and enjoy its basic premise, I know it's a story I still want to tell. And maybe—if we want to wax poetic here—need to tell. I know why I haven't written any of them yet however, and it's just honestly a matter of not having enough time. I don't know if you can tell but I really like to devote myself to every single long-ish story I write. When I feel spread thin with just other things in life, I prefer to keep my writing to one project with occasional one-shots on the side to keep things fresh. I don't experience existential dread over it though because if it's a story I am meant to tell, I will tell it when I'm supposed to. Or it can fly away to another owner and I'm quite content with that too.

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

I utilize music when I write emotional scenes. It may sound cheesy but it's almost like being a composer scoring for a movie, or being a film editor and choosing juuuuust the right song for the right scene. I actually had a mini assignment to do stuff like this when I took film in high school. We had to take scenes from a movie we liked and pick the *perfect* song for it, and I had such a fun time with it. I picked "The Notebook" and the scene where Allie and Noah lie on the road with each other and giggle and fall in love, and chose the song "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol. So oftentimes when I picture scenes, especially emotional scenes, I picture it with music as if you're watching a movie or a TV show. I will loop it 100 times if needed, until the scene is completed and written fully. As for do I ever feel what the characters feel, ALL THE TIME. I've mentioned before that I don't write a single emotionally sad scene for my characters without crying myself. Because honestly if I want to evoke any kind of emotion out of anyone else, I think I have to first do it to myself.

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I see it like a movie in my head and then the words flow. ❤️

Thank you for sending in your questions!! I appreciate it <3

#asks #ask games #kw writing questions

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violetmuses · 2 years

Text

“Better Than I Imagined” || A Stephen Holder Drabble

TITLE: “Better Than I Imagined” || A Stephen Holder Drabble

FANDOM: “The Killing” (AMC/Netflix Series)

CHARACTER: Homicide Detective Stephen Holder

PAIRING: Female Reader + Stephen Holder

MAIN STORYLINE: You find yourself coming back once again, somehow caught up with this stranger.

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96 @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog

By Your Side - Masterlist

_________

2012

Thought it'd be worse ‘cause it hurts me.

But still I can’t.

See myself with no one else.

‘Cause it was better than I imagined…

"Better Than I Imagined" - Robert Glasper ft. H.E.R. + Meshell Ndegeocello

________

You didn’t even know him.

You met last night, but you’ve scheduled this coffee meetup in broad daylight after leaving his place and changing clothes in your apartment. Sunlight beams through the familiar windows now as you sit across from him, drinking more caffeine.

Both of you laugh through small talk again, no longer plagued with stress from your jobs from the night before. If anyone else looked through every window now, that person might mistaken you for a couple. At least Seattle offered brightness today.

“Any plans tomorrow?” He asks, setting down this usual order of herbal tea and folding both arms while still rocking another hoodie.

“No, why?” You tell the truth.

“Would you mind coming back over to my place tomorrow? Maybe we could…” Out of nowhere, his voice trails off once ringing kicks off in one of the hoodie pockets.

“Oh…” You furrow your brow as he takes out his phone and watches its screen, gently excusing himself from the table for a second.

For just a few minutes, you watch as his back is turned. From this angle, you recall some tattooed ink of an embellished cross lined the back of his neck.

“Aight. See you soon. Bye.” His word clip, but he ends the call and turns back to face you. Silence falls between you both. He suddenly looks disappointed and you don’t know why yet.

“Everything okay?” You ask with genuine concern.

“Uh, Liz just called. Davie has a fever now, so I’m gonna bounce and check on him before the weekend ends.” Stephen frowns. “Best case scenario is that he ends up feeling better and goes back to school sooner than later.” Holder pockets his phone, explaining.

“Okay. That’s perfectly fine. Go see him and keep me posted if you can.” You’re understanding of course, but at least he offered to say goodbye before rushing out the door.

_______

Days later, there’s a voicemail waiting on your phone:

“Y/N, Hey, it’s Stephen. Sorry about this late message, but I got caught up with Davie and started back working with Linden, yknow? Not sure when you’re free again, but I wanted to apologize about what happened the other day. Please call me when you’ve got a chance, aight? Peace.”

Life became hectic again for you both, but at least he was kind enough to leave this message behind in the wake of chaos.

“Hey.” You shoulder the phone, pacing back and forth in an effort to stop yourself from rattling in your own way. It was unlike you to phone back so quickly, especially since Holder wasn’t even your closest friend yet.

“Hey,” His response proved fatigued on the other line, but it seemed to you that he tried to sound relieved. “Glad you got my message. How are you doing?”

“Can’t complain. Are you good?” You take off your shoes from work, setting them down in the bedroom neatly

“Tired, girl. Been working for almost two days straight now and I just left the precinct.” His voice rasped, on the brink of fading out too.

“Damn. Get some sleep, Holder.” You offered that tough care advice, not exactly trying to sound gentle now.

“That’s the problem. I can’t sleep.” Holder admits.

“Thanks, but um. Could I please come by?” Holder asks. “Only if you want, though.”

“Hot showers always knock me out.” You give more advice.

“Uh, sure.” You clear your throat, almost struggling for a moment. Not that you would mind seeing him again, but something didn’t feel right. He sounded exhausted and quietly overwhelmed. Maybe visiting would’ve calmed his nerves.

________

Stephen knocks around midnight. When you open that front door, the exhaustion on his face is both palpable and damn-near heartbreaking. His entire body almost fidgets in the dimly lit hallway, but his eyes. Those hazel eyes loom with sadness.

“Hi,” You barely whisper the greeting. To you, speaking any louder would’ve surely rattled him even more.

“I had to… I can’t really talk about the case, but with everything going on around me right now, I had to see if you were okay.” His words line with honesty and you can’t help but sympathize.

“Thank you. I’m all right.” You still hold onto the door, but watch him with full eye contact. There was no other choice for you both.

“Can I please come in?” He asks, sounding nervous once more.

“Sure.” You step back and let him past this threshold of course before closing the door behind you both.

It isn’t long before you offer him that herbal tea just because and sit in your own kitchen with him. He’s nearly slouching in the opposite chair while perched across from you. His long fingers drum their own rhythms against the large mug, musical.

“Hi,” His voice answers, but the smile on his face is brief, not even reaching those hazel eyes anymore.

“Hi,” You whisper back, allowing silence to take this room. It was enough for you, even through the long night.

#stephen holder x you #stephen holder x female reader #the killing fan fic #the killing fanfic #the killing #joel kinnaman fanfiction #joel kinnaman #stephen holder x reader #stephen holder

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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 2 years

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Hi all you lovely folks, in case you were wondering, I did go see Thunderpussy + a few other bands who were AMAZING/WONDERFUL! Since it was my 5th time seeing Thunderpussy, though, they rocked my socks off the best as usual. :’D

Unfortunately (and for the first time, I think) I didn’t get to see Thunderpussy’s encore, but they ended their set initially with “Barracuda” by Heart which was AS FUCKING AMAZING as you’d think it would be (plus as a nod to a fellow Seattle band 💗 don’t tell Ann or Nancy this but I hope Thunderpussy record their cover of that song. That would blow my mind, and I can only hope they do!!). It was SUUUUUUUUPER cool and lovely, too, that they brought on the lead vocalist (and guitarist? not sure if she usually plays guitar in Sundries or what because I haven’t really listened to Sundries before) of the Seattle band Sundries to cover one of Sundries’ song, and when they played it, Leah switched to the drums and Ruby covered the bass! Oh yeah, and HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT RUBY CAME BACK AND PLAYED WITH THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND SHE SMASHED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY EXPECTATIONS AS SHE ALWAYS FUCKING DOES, she’s a positively phenomenal drummer and I was (and still am!) so fucking happy that she came back and played with Thunderpussy. No offense to anyone new who drums with Thunderpussy, but nobody gets the feel of their songs like Ruby does (which Molly if not also Whitney actually commented on during their show, lmao...which I was kinda like ‘yikes’ about because that threw the other drummers they’ve been playing with under the bus...😬), and also...Ruby is a fucking beast and 1000% a DRUM GODDESS, she plays so hard the entire time and still has energy at the end so much that it makes me think she could just keep going and going...it’s unbelievable if you aren’t there to witness it yourself, but that’s how fucking amazing and incredible she is and yet still so DYNAMIC, and that’s why it makes me squeal and jump up and down with excitement when I see her with the band again - I know without a singular doubt that the show will be utterly fucking AMAZING because she’s there. :’)

Also, not to brag except maybe a little (sorry), but considering how big a fan of them I am, I have to admit that at one point I was literally standing directly next to Ruby in the crowd watching the band who were on before Thunderpussy (oh and that band, Wild Powwers, were REALLY fucking good, too. Headbanging definitely happened during their performance!!!), which is how I was screaming in my head like ‘!!!!!!!!!!! IS RUBY BACK, IS SHE GONNA PLAY WITH THUNDERPUSSY AGAIN–’ (and then she did). I was literally an arm’s reach of her in the crowd standing right next to her but I didn’t want to be annoying and ruin her enjoyment of the show so I kept my internal screaming and looking around at the people around us like ‘HELLO, PEOPLE, DON’T YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS!!!!!’ to myself (except for the last one. When she first came and stood among the crowd, she walked past me and I IMMEDIATELY recognized her, so I was looking around at the people nearby like ‘IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?! AND WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE FREAKING OUT HERE, DON’T YOU ALL KNOW WHO THAT IS...’). 😂 I also ended up standing right behind a couple of people who Molly came up to after Wild Powwers’ performance and I wanted to be like “OMG HI! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE” (and unlike the rest of the members of Thunderpussy excluding Ruby, I have not ever actually met Molly before 😌 so she probably would not have recognized me, though the other members might have...) but of course I politely refrained from doing so. Whitney also (following Ruby) stood amongst the crowd to watch Wild Powwers’ set but of course I didn’t want to bother her, either, and let her enjoy the show, although I think she might’ve been the most likely member of the band to recognize me since she gave me a hug before their 2019 NYE show (although at their 2019 show Leah also said that she recognized me from the shows I’d been to prior, as well, but she only walked past me once at this show and didn’t notice me...not that I was expecting her to).

Anyway, I’ll try to write more formally about the show when I can, because they played some songs I wasn’t expecting them to play (like that song they did with Sundries), and I really wanna scream talk about it!! I’d also love to mention the other artists and bands I saw that I loved - Stephanie Anne Johnson, and Wild Powwers. 💗 They all kicked ass.

#crystal visions of lilies in the valley #my fave ladies of lightning

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unlostperson · 5 months

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Do I exist offline?

The upbeat choice of music in this coffee shop is killing my broody vibe that has come upon me as I was sitting at home and frustrated and decided i needed to get out and I drove here and thought about the loneliness and the fact that no one has messaged me in weeks, only two guys who wanted to have sex with me, and when I decided I was worth more than that they stopped trying and I went silent. I thought about this on my drive here in the dark winter night post snow. Do I have connection offline? Do I even exist offline?

I stood in my room changing black baggy sweatpants and black sweatshirt into jeans and my most colorful shirt, throwing on some concealer to cover up the bags that have developed under my eyes and a little blush and bronzer to make it look like my skin has seen the sun even though it hasn’t for the past three weeks, then threw my purse together and left

I could almost cry thinking about it. The answer I feel is no. I don’t. Do I hate when my roommates always walk in the house on the phone? Is that the little annoyance I feel when I can hear them in their room, the little muffles of them talking to someone. Who are they talking to all the time? Their friends and family? Where are mine?

Family: they don’t exist. They’re all dead, even so when my dad was alive, I only checked in with him once a week and only more if there were logistics involved like when I was taking the train home for break and if I had the forms form school for the taxes if i needed a refund deposited, etc. And friends? I don’t really have any. And I feel bad in saying that because there are people who maybe every other month check in with me and I with them. My best friend, I schedule calls with and I don’t know if she calls me her best friend. But do I know what they do on a daily basis, do they tell me about their days? What even is friendship and connection?

I’ve always felt alone, that is my core wound and I hide behind independence instead of loneliness. I always told myself that no one wanted to do the things I wanted to do but they did, just with other people. It’s why people at work always hang out without me, it’s why I’m never invited and trying too hard to be invited only repelled them more. I once decided I’d be going on a road trip starting in the midwest and reaching the PCH to go up to Seattle and instead of calling anyone, I announced it on my feed, and instead of checking in with me during my trip, my “friends” DM’d me to say they’d be following along. They’d like my posts and comment so cool and don’t get me wrong there was more excitment and freedom felt than loneliness, I talked to myself and talked into my phone and conversed with my journal.

But after many trips alone, I notice the loneliness when I’m there and the loneliness was so big on the last trip I went on I couldn’t run from it or be excited by anything so I ended up going home. I was in the city for 24 hours instead of 4 days. What have I done to be so disconnected? What is wrong with me? What have I done to be only a figure in the mind and not a friend? To be so unlikable? What body language and social cues have just not stuck? I don’t understand. Where do I go now?

When put in such a position I am then responsible for putting my life online in order to keep my viewers, little as they might be, updated. And it’s for ME to feel connected to them. When someone messages me “i’ve been loving the content” i know that someone is watching, someone is seeing me for however little it means. They know when my account is deleted because i do this every once in a while when I’m in a major depressive episode. And they mention it when I get back online. When I can get high off the pain of disappearing when I feel like I’ve been lost in some way. A cry for help, I think, why don’t you see me? Why don’t you care? Why doesn’t anyone call and say you’ve been missing from my feed, from my life, are you okay? But they don’t, and I reinstall my account and I post on my story and get on with my life with the little bit of knowing that 100 people have viewed my story and whether or not they were just skipping through I exist for a moment in the world.

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rippleon-blog · 1 year

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Connecting, Storytelling and Mythology with Ben Dennis

The most amazing connections come from some of the least expected opportunities we experience in life. Just like the unlikely heroes we read about in stories and mythology, the impossible becomes possible.

Such was the random comment I made one day to my friend Ted Rubin (Season 8, Episode 5), as he shared some of his musings about a ski vacation he was having with a friend he met by chance some thirty years earlier on Instagram. These two friends were clearly having a blast and I was enjoying the snippets of check-ins being posted by Ted about their ski trip together.

One of these posts caught my attention, specifically when Ted recorded a video coming down into the lodge to find his friend. He said something like, "There's Ben, snuggled away in the corner, thinking and writing again."

There was something about the intensity of his friend sitting there in the corner in that video that really caught my attention. It was as if he spoke to me at that moment. So, of course, I asked what he was writing to which Ted replied, "Who knows but with Ben, it's sure to be interesting. You'd like Ben, he's a deep thinker."

Ted was right. I not only like Ben Dennis, but I have become fascinated with how this man thinks, tells a story and looks at the world and his place in it. He has a calming, almost meditative spirit about him that washes over you. I found myself wishing our conversation could go on forever because he just has a way that inspires me. I know if you listen to this whole podcast, he will do the same for you as well.

A little more about Ben:

Ben is a mythologist and writer cultivating an ongoing life-long love of story, myth, and psychology. He is passionately involved in ritual, rites of passage, psychodrama, and storytelling. His mythic interests include Greek mythology, Native American story, European Fairy tales, and Hindu epic literature. He has a wide variety of experience having worked in diverse fields such as commercial fishing, construction, and Investment Banking, and a veteran of the U. S. Air Force. Ben is a retired 28-year veteran Fire Fighter in Seattle where he served as a member of the Critical Incident Stress Management (CISM) team. Ben has been adjunct faculty at Antioch University Seattle and holds his PhD in Mythological Studies with an Emphasis in Depth Psychology from Pacifica Graduate Institute.

Ben has participated in and led a variety of workshops and conferences. He has assisted and taught at the Minnesota Men’s Conference as a featured Storyteller since 2013. He has also been a featured storyteller and teacher with Veteran’s groups dedicated to addressing “the emotional, moral, and spiritual wounds of veterans, their families and communities.” Over the past 20-years Ben has facilitated rites of passage events for young men, mentored in the workplace and in his community, and offers storytelling and drum making classes.

“With a life-long fascination in literature, myth, and story I recognize that teaching is a vital part of individual growth, community support, resiliency, and understanding the community we live in. I believe it is crucial to engage the imagination in startling and fresh ways. We each have survived and thrived countless generations through oral tradition, self-reliance, dedication to community, and the archetypal desire to share what we have learned with future generations. My intention is to learn and teach in whatever way I am able.”

Ready to get your Ripple On? Check out the latest episode of The Ripple Effect Podcast with Steve Harper!

#relationships #connecting #network #personal development #professional development #entrepreneur #speaker #author #connectbetter

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foodgreys · 2 years

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Growing up macklemore album name

It features four other artists, creating an even more lively performance. “Downtown” is by far the most well known song on the album and even reached number nine on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. It reminds me a lot of “Thrift Shop” from The Heist in 2012, which introduced fans to the unique style of Macklemore for the first time. This song has a fun and energetic beat for the entirety of the song. But by the end, the tune picked up and even featured vocals from Jamila Woods, who is most famous for collaborating with “The Social Experiment” on their hit “Sunday Candy.” Although this wasn’t my favorite Macklemore song, it definitely tells a message I’ll remember. At almost nine minutes long, the song got a little boring in the middle and almost made me want to fast forward. In the song, he raps while making a statement about discrimination and the Black Lives Matter social movement. This track is a sequel to “White Privilege,” which Macklemore released in 2009. This album contains lyrics and vocals that truly exhibit Macklemore’s unique style of powerful messages and catchy beats. Since the debut of their first album as a duo, Macklemore and Lewis have released three more singles, performed at the MTV Video Music awards, went on a world tour and most recently released their second album, This Unruly Mess I’ve Made. The Heist featured two songs, “Thrift Shop” and “Can’t Hold Us,” that both reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. Success has only intensified Macklemore’s conflicted relationship with rap: On his 2017 solo single, “Good Old Days,” he looks back fondly at his early years as an unknown MC trying to break into the game however, the track’s elegant, ascendant piano chords and heartrending Kesha cameo suggests he’s grown evermore accustomed to playing the crowd-pleasing pop star.Macklemore and Ryan Lewis have become one of the most popular rap and hip hop duos since their release of The Heist in 2012. Their 2012 self-released debut, The Heist, crashed the Billboard Top 5 and scooped up four Grammys thanks to a string of unlikely crossover hits-like the sax-squawked anti-luxury anthem “Thrift Shop” and the pro-LGBTQ ballad “Same Love”-that betrayed his love of pre-millennial hip-hop sounds while interrogating some of the genre’s problematic materialist and homophobic tendencies. Upon connecting with producer Ryan Lewis in 2009, Macklemore finally acquired the megaphone that allowed him to project his big ideas to the masses. But during those DIY days, Macklemore developed a reputation for intense introspection and keen cultural observations-on his 2005 track “White Privilege,” he examined not only the gentrification of hip-hop from black street music to commercial commodity but also his own complicity in that process as a white MC. Hip-hop, he said, was “my means of trying to figure out who I am, and to figure out my truth, and look at society and get closer to a connection to something much bigger than myself.” It would take some time for him to make that greater connection: The MC born Benjamin Haggerty in 1983 dropped his first mixtape in 2000 and spent the next decade doing the underground grind. In a 2016 interview with Apple Music, Seattle rapper Macklemore recounted the moment when, at age 17, he realized his life’s true calling.

#Growing up macklemore album name

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neil-gaiman · 3 years

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Genuine question. why did you, a British man, write american Gods? Why not write British Gods or European Gods? I don't mean any disrespect with this question, I'm just genuinely curious about the thought process.

I wrote an essay about that very thing, in 2001. Let me see if it's up on the web.

Oh, yes, at https://www.neilgaiman.com/Cool_Stuff/Essays/Essays_By_Neil/How_Dare_You

I'll cut and paste it for you. Here you go:

Nobody's asked the question I've been dreading, so far, the question I have been hoping that no-one would ask. So I'm going to ask it myself, and try to answer it myself. And the question is this: How dare you? Or, in its expanded form, How dare you, an Englishman, try and write a book about America, about American myths and the American soul? How dare you try and write about what makes America special, as a country, as a nation, as an idea? And, being English, my immediate impulse is to shrug my shoulders and promise it won't happen again. But then, I did dare, in my novel American Gods, and it took an odd sort of hubris to write it. As a young man, I wrote a comic-book about dreams and stories called Sandman (collected, and still in print, in ten graphic novels, and you should read it if you haven't). I got a similar question all the time, back then: "You live in England. How can you set so much of this story in America?" And I would point out that, in media terms, the UK was practically the 51st state. We get American films, watch American TV. "I might not write a Seattle that would satisfy an inhabitant," I used to say, "But I'll write one as good as a New Yorker who's never been to Seattle." I was, of course, wrong. I didn't do that at all. What I did instead was, in retrospect, much more interesting: I created an America that was entirely imaginary, in which Sandman could take place. A delirious, unlikely place out beyond the edge of the real. And that satisfied me until I came to live in America about eight years ago. Slowly I realised both that the America I'd been writing was wholly fictional, and that the real America, the one underneath the what-you-see-is-what-you-get surface, was much more interesting than the fictions. The immigrant experience is, I suspect, a universal one (even if you're the kind of immigrant, like me, who holds on tightly, almost superstitiously, to his UK citizenship). On the one hand, there's you, and on the other hand, there's America. It's bigger than you are. So you try and make sense of it. You try to figure it out - something which it resists. It's big enough, and contains enough contradictions, that it is perfectly happy not to be figured out. As a writer, all I could do was to describe a small part of the whole. And it was too big to see. I didn't really know what kind of book I wanted to write until, in the summer of 1998, I found myself in Reykjavik, in Iceland. And it was then that fragments of plot, an unwieldy assortment of characters, and something faintly resembling a structure, came together in my head. Either way, the book came into focus. It would be a thriller, and a murder mystery, and a romance, and a road trip. It would be about the immigrant experience, about what people believed in when they came to America. And about what happened to the things that they believed. I wanted to write about America as a mythic place. And I decided that, although there were many things in the novel I knew already, there were more I could find by going on the road and seeing what I found. So I drove, until I found a place to write, and then, in one place after another, sometimes at home, sometimes not, for nearly two years, I put one word after another, until I had a book. The story of a man called Shadow and the job he is offered when he gets out of prison. It tells the story of a small Midwestern town and the disappearances that occur there every winter. I discovered, as I wrote it, why roadside attractions are the most sacred places in America. I discovered many other strange by-ways and moments, scary and delightful and just plain weird. When it was almost done, when all that remained was to pull together all the diverse strands, I left the country again, holed up in a huge, cold, old house in Ireland, and typed all that was left to type, shivering, beside a peat fire. And then the book was done, and I stopped. Looking back on it, it wasn't really that I'd dared, rather that I had had no choice.

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volturiwolf · 3 years

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Unorthodox - An Embry Call x vampire!fem!Reader Story - Part 2

A/N: This part is a bit longer than the first one, as I had to add the pack's reaction to the imprint - @foreveror-never suggested it, and I was thinking about it, so I added it.

A/N 2: (Y/N) loves expensive and lavish things - you will see it here and in later chapters

A/N 3: As Paul is 16 (a minor), I think Rachel (his imprint/Jacob's sister) should also be a minor, so I imagine her a year younger than Paul, Jacob, Quil, Jared, and Embry, at 15.

No of Words: 5600+

Through the parts, mentions of: Abusive relationship, Attacks, Hunt, Illusions, Loneliness, Mental health, Murder, Sex / Sex language / Sexual activities, Suicide, Swear language, Wild imagination

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Part 1

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"Unorthodox" Tag List (reply if you want to be added or removed): @eunoia-kth @eugeniapet @aquanova99 @foggyturtleknightangel @avecletempsy @girlgirlgirlnormal @hshehdyhd @musicandpenguins @letskidnapsenpai

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(Y/N)’s POV

The past few days had been filled with nerves and anxiety. We couldn’t understand who could have been behind the events in Seattle, and that kept us on edge. This graduation party was the last thing we needed right now, but Carlisle and Esme still agreed to go along with it for Alice’s sake, but most importantly for Bella, as it was her first graduation.

I decided that I would have a good time myself, not worry about my thoughts for once, and just let loose. Carlisle and Esme left the house to ourselves, as they preferred to go out on a romantic walk. Bella just arrived at the party but did not notice me, as she turned around.

That’s when I smelled the “mutts”, as the five Cullen siblings called the wolves. The stink now was unlike anything they had described to me - dirt, mold, wet dog, canned dog food? It was difficult to describe it, but it left my nose burning.

Among the smells, there was another one, far more pleasant than the stink I smelled before. It smelled like wood, pine, grass, the ocean. It smelled better than blood, better than anything I have ever smelled in my life. It smelled like warmth and home. I didn’t quite fully comprehend it, but it smelled familiar like it was calling me.

I turned to look at Bella, and she was already talking with Jacob, who stank so much by now. I played it cool, trying not to breathe, so I wouldn’t have to get out of here earlier than I had planned.

“Was my right hook too subtle for you?” I laughed at Bella’s words, as I remember telling us how she broke her hand punching Jacob in the face.

He was now trying to apologize to her, but it didn’t feel too genuine for me. Well, that was just me though, as she seemed to be relaxing a bit from her previous defensive attitude. I walked by Bella’s side just as Jacob was handing her her “graduation present”, a wolf bracelet.

“Hey, Bells!” I greeted and side-hugged Bella carefully. I turned towards Jacob, smiling widely and extending my hand towards him. “Hi, I’m (Y/N)! You must be Jacob. I’ve heard so many things about you.” He ignored me, rolling his eyes, probably annoyed I interrupted his conversation with Bella. I wouldn’t let the wolf ruin my mood. So, I just smiled and turned towards the two that were accompanying Jacob tonight.

“Hi! I’m (Y/N).” I extended my hand for them to shake. The shorter boy, with the slightly curly hair, shook my hand first.

“Hi, I’m Quil. I think we met the other day.” He smiled at me.

“Yes! You were on patrol with Paul, right? You replaced Edward and me? Nice to meet you!” I felt Jacob shaking his head behind me at the mention of Edward’s name. Pfft, get over yourself, big guy.

“Yeah, exactly! It’s nice meeting you, too.” Quil’s face lit up, the cold attitude that he had a few days ago nowhere to be seen. He actually seemed pretty nice. “By the way, this is my friend, Embry. He is part of our pack.”

I turned to look at the other guy, who stood a few inches taller than Quil, extending my hand, waiting for him to shake it. “Hi, I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Embry!” I chirped in. He was totally gorgeous, and if I could blush, my whole face would be burning by now.

He lifted his face to look at me, and the moment our eyes met, he froze at his place. I felt a fire burning inside me, and electricity passing through my body. My mind cleared up completely, for the first time ever since I became a vampire. I could now see what he was thinking about. I saw us running through the woods - Embry in his wolf form; us laughing at the beach; I saw myself lying in his arms.

I was taken aback. Embry was still frozen to his place, his eyes looking at me widely, and Quil had to start shaking him to bring him back to reality. He came back just in time I heard and saw Alice coming down the stairs. She suddenly froze. Bella also noticed and we both excused ourselves to stand in front of the small brunette vampire.

I stood in front of Alice, watching the images in her head. I saw Riley Biers, the guy who had been missing for over a year now, his face plastered on posters all over Forks. He was holding a red blouse, and he was giving it around to the newborns to sniff it. I saw him and the newborns swimming and walking towards Forks. The vision stopped and I started panicking. I didn’t even notice Embry coming to stand beside me until I felt the warmth radiating off his body.

“Alice, what’d you see?” Bella was starting to panic.

Alice looked at me, her face just as upset as mine probably was. “The decision’s been made.”

Jacob came to stand beside Bella. “What’s going on?”

Realization hit Bella. “You’re not going to Seattle.”

“No. They’re coming here.”

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I called Carlisle and thankfully, he came as soon as he could. Alice went to get Edward and Jasper, and along with the wolves and Bella, we all walked in the small patio, not able to wait any longer for the guests to leave the house.

It was a complicated and upsetting situation. We came to the conclusion that the newborn army could not just have been created by Riley Biers; there must have been someone else behind it.

Jacob, Embry, and Quil quietly agreed with each other, deciding to fight the newborns along with us. Bella was currently trying to prevent Jacob from fighting the newborns, afraid that he could hurt himself.

I looked at Embry, who was already looking at me. I may have not known him at all, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him fighting the newborns. He could be the greatest fighter of all for all I know, but newborns are not to be taken lightly. They are lethal. I was talking from my own experience and other newborns I met along the way.

Newborns are uncontrollable and vicious, the only thing we ever think about at that stage of our life is blood and how to soothe our never-ending thirst. At that point, we are way superior in every sense than any other vampire. Our senses are heightened, our stamina much greater, our strength far greater. We are designed to kill at that point, and the only thing that can stop us is our very own vanity and carelessness.

I didn’t know how the wolves would be able to deal with them, without getting themselves hurt. I would never say they were incapable of fighting or they were weaker than us, but, at least, we could, more or less, know what it feels like being a newborn, driven by a sort of madness, your vanity, your thirst; all these were things the wolves would not be able to understand.

Carlisle turned to Jacob. “We’ll all need some training. Fighting newborns requires knowledge that Jasper has. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Right. Name the time and place.” Jacob seemed too confident in himself.

Carlisle turned at me. “(Y/N)? Will you join us?”

I felt everyone’s eyes on me. “Of course. I will fight with you. You are my family after all. Whoever is behind this, won’t even know I exist.”

Carlisle nodded at me and then turned to the three wolves before us. “Tomorrow, 1 pm. We’ll meet at a clearing 4 miles southeast from here. It will give us enough space and privacy, away from the town.”

Jacob nodded and he and Quil went to leave but stopped once they saw that Embry was still looking at me. I felt an urge to fall into his arms, to talk to him, but I also knew that this relationship could probably never work. I just needed time to think. So, when I saw Embry taking a few steps towards me, I turned to Carlisle.

“Carlisle, I’ll be going now. I’ll meet you all tomorrow.” I turned to Embry to look at him one last time, mouthing a “Sorry, I need some time” to him, before running towards the stairs as humanly fast as possible, and down to the garage to take my car.

I was thankful now that I convinced Carlisle and Esme to allow me to have my own space. They knew we would be close to each other, but they understood and respected my need for privacy. When I found a nice house, about 1 mile southeast from the Cullens, I moved all my stuff there.

I also got myself a few cars, just in case I needed to go anywhere and didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention. Something which I now thought I did not manage to achieve, as my Lamborghini Murciélago LP650-4 Roadster drew too much attention, not quite fitting for the small town of Forks. The exclusivity in its production and availability made it stand out even more than the other Murciélago editions.

However, instead of going home, I drove up to Port Angeles. I left my car near the warehouses down at the docks, and jumped to the sea, swimming all the way across to Vancouver Island. I just wanted to get away, maybe hunt, go somewhere that neither Embry nor any other wolf could reach for now.

I needed time for myself, with myself, just to think about everything. Bella and, with extension, the Cullens were hunted down by newborns; I mated with the wolf; the wolf mated with me; vampires and wolves do not get along - I would say they hate each other, but Embry’s and Quil’s attitude did not clearly state that, and, above all, my head had started killing me again.

I didn’t realize it quite as quickly but, as long as I was near Embry’s presence, everything was clear, specified, and understandable. The moment I left his side, everything started becoming unbearable. More confusing and complicated than it was before. It was as if Embry unraveled the mysteries and knots I had in my head and when I left, I took the pain and complications of being away from a mate with me, in my head. I just wished for once that my mind was clear and stable, and I now knew what I had to do.

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Embry’s POV

“You what?” Paul had been screaming for a solid 10 minutes, pacing back and forth around Emily and Sam’s living room.

Thankfully, Sam, having expected such reactions, managed to drag Emily out of the house in time, telling her to go to Billy’s as fast as she could. Paul was fuming, and Sam knew that he had to put his imprint’s life first before Paul did anything to put her life in danger.

“Paul, CALM DOWN! You’re going to break the house down!” Leah screamed back at him.

“How do you expect me to calm down, Leah? Didn’t you hear what he said?" Paul’s hand pointed at me. “HE IMPRINTED ON A LEECH!” He snarled, sitting back down on his chair.

“I heard what he said, Paul! I, too, am disgusted, especially with how my little brother seems a bit too excited about this!” Leah was now staring at Seth, a mix of disgust and anger on her face.

“What?” Seth shrugged, smiling. “Quil said she was cool.” Quil nodded in agreement, smiling widely. “Besides, she’s hanging out with the Cullens. She has to be one of the good vampires, right?”

Paul and Jacob hit their fists down at the table, growling. I jumped a bit, taken aback by their actions. I knew Jacob didn’t like the Cullens, but what was Paul’s issue? She was MY imprint after all.

“Don’t you dare break this table!” Sam snarled at the two wolves. “You don’t choose who you imprint to. You two should know that!” Sam was staring between the two boys, who sat across from each other, around Emily and Sam’s dining table.

“Embry?” I lifted my head to look at the Alpha. All this time, I felt as if Paul put me up against a wall, and just yelled at me for no reason. “You good?” I simply nodded, not being able to say a word, in fear of triggering Paul once again.

Paul turned his head to look at the Alpha. “Are you serious, Sam? She’s a fucking bloodsucker! Just because Embry imprinted on her, does NOT mean she does NOT drink blood!” Paul was hitting his palm on the table with every word he said.

“No, it does not. But, because she’s Embry’s imprint, it means that we won’t have to worry about her like we do for the Cullens. Embry, I would like to meet her eventually. After the battle, of course; we first have to focus on fighting off those newborns.” I nodded at Sam, relieved that he was willing to meet (Y/N).

“Meet her? You mean bring her here? Are you crazy, Sam? Jared! You are not gonna say anything?” Paul turned to look at our packmate who was now munching on his third chocolate chip muffin that Emily had baked for the evening.

Jared looked around as everyone’s eyes fell on him. “What?”

“Sam wants to meet the leech. Here!” Jacob answered back at him.

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you serious, dude?” Paul widened his eyes, looking at Jared angrily.

“What? I don’t mind (Y/N). Plus, one less mouth to feed.” Jared grinned, while Quil and Seth burst laughing.

Paul was shaking by now, as he practically jumped out of his chair, and ran out of the house. I was worried about him and the pack - half of the pack was accepting and willing to give (Y/N) a chance, and the other half could not accept that she was my imprint, and I couldn’t do anything to change that. I didn’t want to change that. I always craved to find my imprint, and now that I found her, I would not let anyone take her away from me.

Vampire or not, she was my imprint, and the pack had to accept that and move on. The pack’s law stated that no wolf could turn against another wolf’s imprint - that was what bothered Paul so much. His clear hatred towards vampires would inevitably expand to (Y/N), and now he couldn’t do anything to her. I understood Leah hating on the vampires - the redhead was responsible for her father’s death, and the Cullens’ very presence triggered her transformation, making her the first known female shapeshifter. However, she hated the wrong vampire - (Y/N) was not the issue here, the redhead was.

We sat around the table for a solid hour, not talking, just thinking. Jared was on his tenth muffin by now - “nervous eating” he was calling it. Nobody from the rest of us was hungry anymore; we were all worried for Paul, for me imprinting on a vampire, for tomorrow’s training with the Cullens, for the upcoming battle.

We heard someone coming closer to the house from afar - sniffing the air around, we knew it was Paul. He entered the house, looking calmer than he did before. He came to my side, extending his hand to me. The moment I grabbed his, he pulled me up and into his arms in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, brother. I should have not overreacted. I know you cannot control the imprint. I’m just..worried, scared, for everyone. I’m sorry for what I said.” Paul was..apologizing? Paul NEVER apologized. I knew he meant it though.

“It’s alright, Paul. I just need you all to accept her; whatever she chooses to do with me, with the imprinting, you’ll have to accept her. She will have to be protected and taken care of, just like any other imprint.” I felt Paul tense a bit under our embrace. “Paul, I trust her. She’s good.”

“Okay, I trust you if you think she won’t harm anyone. I guess she is welcome to visit.” Paul pulled away and grinned.

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Truly.” I smiled back, and he playfully smacked my arm, laughing.

We turned to look back at the others. Everyone nodded, even Leah and Jacob who seemed reluctant and reserved at first. Only Seth was smiling widely.

“Great! A new friend for me!” He stood up, doing his “happy dance”.

Oh, God! What have I gotten (Y/N) into?

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(Y/N)’s POV

It was almost 1 pm by now, and I was driving down towards the clearing. I spent my night hunting in Vancouver Island, before swimming back to Port Angeles sometime in the morning. I took my time to dry, and I changed into new clothes I kept in my car. I once again thanked the constantly cloudy weather that has become synonymous with the state of Washington but was actually ideal for me and other vampires to walk around quite unnoticed.

I arrived at the clearing just a couple of minutes after Edward and Bella arrived; everyone was present, even the wolves, who I knew would not trust us just yet to be in their human forms, and it was understandable. Just because Embry and I had a connection did not mean that we would demand the wolves to be vulnerable in front of us. They had the right to be just as suspicious towards the Cullens as the Cullens seemed to be towards the wolves.

They all seemed to have been waiting for me, as Carlisle started speaking the moment I came to stand between Esme and Edward, nearby Alice and Bella. Edward would be the translator between us and the wolves. Carlisle welcomed them and explained how the newborn vampires differ from us, after Sam’s inquiry. Jasper started talking about how they differ in numbers from regular human armies and gave a few tips on dealing with them.

“Now, the two most important things to remember are, first, never let them get their arms around you. They’ll crush you instantly. And second, never go for the obvious kill. They’ll be expecting that, and you will lose.” I saw a wolf growl, and turn his head to look at me, his face softening a bit. Embry. I smiled at him in response.

To prove his point, Jasper called Emmett first. Emmett was the clear example of a vampire depending exclusively on their raw force and strength. Though he wasn’t lacking in brainpower, Emmett was the strongest member of the Cullen family and he used that as his only gift, not having any special ability like three of his siblings did.

Emmett depended on his strength just like the newborns depended on their own, so he was a good example for the wolves to see just how such a vampire would act and react. Just like how Jasper expected, Emmett depended on his strength on this one to one with Jasper, and thus, Jasper managed to easily overpower him. “Never lose focus.”

Edward and Carlisle were next. Their fight went on for a few minutes, both managing to excellently avoid each other’s attacks, and while Edward seemed to have the upper hand as he pinned Carlisle to the ground, smirking to Jasper - “One more thing”, Carlisle turned around and pinned Edward to the ground instead. “Never turn your back on your enemy”, Jasper snarled as he rolled his eyes, being as sassy as he could.

Rosalie was up next against Jasper. Their fight was almost like a dance, synchronized, beautiful; it had rhythm, passion, accuracy. Rosalie seemed to be the most graceful of all fighters, having probably studied the moves shown before and mimicking them to the point, without getting a single piece of dirt on her. That went on for a few minutes until Jasper decided they were even.

Alice and Jasper’s fight resembled a mix of the two previous ones. It was synchronized and rhythmical, but a few punches were thrown around, both of them avoiding them. At one point, Jasper managed to catch Alice and attempted to kiss her, before she slipped out of his hands. Jasper was clearly confused until Alice jumped off the tree above him, landing on his back and lightly pecking him on the lips; the only one who beat Jasper today.

“(Y/N)?” Edward called me. “Are you up for a challenge?” He was smirking at me like a little prick. I loved that little prick, he was family, but he was a prick nonetheless.

“Do you want to do this my way or your way?” Instead of answering, Edward smirked. He thought he could win, especially now that Embry was present, and Edward could probably hear my thoughts more easily. “Got it.” I smirked back and the illusion began.

I decided to create a “whole package” illusion for everyone to see. Suddenly, there were about 15 different (Y/N)s in front of Edward, all smirking at him. I took a few steps back to watch the illusion from afar, making myself invisible in everyone’s heads. Edward was clearly trying to catch a string of thoughts, but all he could hear were the different thoughts that came from the illusions in front of him. I only allowed him to listen to them, and only them, nobody else. The voices were falling one on top of the other, so the mind-reader could not really make out what they were saying exactly.

He launched himself to one (Y/N) on his right, but that one managed to avoid his attack. He launched himself again towards another illusion and that (Y/N) grabbed him and threw him away. In reality, he fell on his feet on his own, the illusion did not grab him or throw him, but he felt as if it did. Edward was now baffled, not being able to distinguish between reality and illusion, and everyone looked at the scene in front of them curiously.

Meanwhile, I was actually sitting on the branch of a tree above the wolves, looking at Edward, standing in the middle of the clearing, confused, his eyes moving around too fast for the human eyes, grimaces all over his usually perfect face. Everyone else was still staring in front of them, consumed in the illusion I created for their own eyes only.

Everyone except for Bella, who has now noticed me and was staring at me. Was she a shield or something? I put a finger on my lips, asking her to stay quiet and just wait for the illusion to end. She didn’t say a thing, but just nodded at me, and turned back to face Edward who was still “fighting” with the illusions.

I looked down, and I realized I was almost above Embry. I smiled slightly at being so close to him. It gave me a sense of calmness and I could concentrate better on my illusion; his presence gave me a sense of control over my mind, without distracting me from my purpose. I jumped down from the tree and landed silently next to him. I looked at him carefully, trying to take in every detail of his wolf form.

His fur was gray, with black spots all around, his nose dark gray and somewhat white fur around his eyes and mouth. He was much sleeker than the other wolves but seemed strong nonetheless. His warm brown human eyes were replaced by icy gray, almost white, wolf ones.

I couldn’t help myself stroking his fur lightly, gliding my fingers through his back, feeling the extreme heat and warmth engulfing me, my fingers burning under the touch. I felt him shiver slightly, but calming completely within a few seconds. I heard some of the wolves growling. They must have felt what Embry did through the wolf telepathy, which Edward informed me about.

I let go of Embry and I heard him whimpering at the loss of touch, and I couldn’t help but smirk. He could feel the bond through the illusion, which normally wouldn’t happen. I looked at him once again before running to the other side of the clearing and jumping up another tree.

“Okay, I think that would be enough.” I told everyone and stopped the illusion. Edward was looking around confused and exhausted as if he actually fought with me. They all turned to look up at me, and I heard Embry huffing in what I assumed was a laugh. I jumped down from the tree and bowed theatrically.

Jacob walked closer to Bella and she started talking to him, but I didn’t pay attention to what she was telling him because I was too focused on Embry. I smiled at him and waved slightly. A minute or two later, Sam called for all the wolves to leave. Embry looked at me sadly and I nodded at him, thinking it would be better for him to go with the pack for now. He looked at me one last time before he ran off. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding all this time.

Bella was talking with Jasper now, and he was telling her about the time he was serving at the Confederate Army and then when he served Maria and her newborn army. I didn’t want these images in my head, so I decided to leave quickly. Getting in my car, I only stopped for a few minutes at the Cullens’ house to talk about their final plans before the battle.

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A day before the newborns arrived, the Cullens had planned to go hunting, to “power up for the battle”, while Bella and Edward would stay at their house. Alice and I - mostly Alice - convinced Charlie we would have a sleepover at their house with Bella, as he was preparing to leave Forks for the weekend to go on a fishing trip. Charlie was actually really warmed up and friendly with Alice, though it didn’t take long for me to become friendly with him, as well.

I told Charlie what I told any human who asked about me - I was Esme’s biological niece that was going to stay with them for a while. I was telling everyone that I finished school last year, and was taking online classes at the University of British Columbia, double majoring in Commerce and Environmental Engineering. He seemed to be thoroughly impressed, so he welcomed me at his home, telling me to “stop by whenever I wanted”.

While everyone was getting ready for the hunt, I dismissed their invitation, telling them I had other plans. They didn’t question me for now, so I ran back to my house to prepare mentally for what I was about to do. I wasn’t usually scared by anyone, but that was my mate. I was scared of scaring him away. I just hoped he would understand my point of view. I didn’t want to think about it too much - it was now or never. Without really thinking, I ran out of my house.

I reached the treaty line and waited for any wolf to show up. I tried to create an illusion to lure any of them in; to mimic the smell of vampires, in hopes that at least one of them would show up. A few minutes later, who I assumed were Jared and Paul showed up, growling slightly at me.

I did not flinch and I kept my voice as calm as possible. “Can you call Embry to come here? I need to talk to him.” The wolves hesitated at first, but then ran backward, towards the woods and I was left standing on the other side of the treaty line, waiting for Embry to show up.

A few minutes later, a sleek gray wolf appeared between the other two wolves. I looked directly at Embry. “Can you come over, please?” I turned to the two wolves beside me. “I won’t hurt him. I wouldn’t even think of it.”

The two wolves growled lowly, nodding slightly. Embry crossed the river to meet me on the other side. His eyes told me that he trusted me, but his packmates didn’t trust me enough to allow him to turn back to his human form.

“Can we talk? Somewhere else..?” He nodded, and I smiled at him, running away and him following me closely behind.

We ended up near Mountain Olympus’ foothills, at the Olympic National Park. Ironic - it certainly does not compare to the real thing. I got emotional all too sudden, and if I could cry, I would be balling my eyes out by now. Embry whimpered by my side, rubbing his snout on my left side.

“Just homesick. Don’t worry about it.” I paused a little bit before I continued. “The others went hunting, but I wanted to talk to you. I couldn’t do it at the party and I didn’t have enough time at the training. I just want you to fully understand what you’re in for, so you know what to expect.”

I looked at him, and he turned around, towards the woods. I heard bones crashing, and a minute later, Embry came out of the woods in his human form, wearing cut-off jeans I didn’t notice he carried on him before.

“I trust you won’t hurt me, as you trust me I won’t.”

He came and stood near me, and we both sat down on the grass. I was a bit hesitant to talk to him; I didn’t want to sugarcoat anything.

“First of all, I would like to let you know I’m a vampire.” I laughed and he joined me. “My full name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I was born in Greece, in 1858, just a few decades after the Greek Revolution. Things were still really fluid then. Basically, we had a king, but he violated the Constitution at one point, and then he was gone. I grew up in a poor family, and I had six brothers. I was the only girl in the family. I don’t know what happened to them.” I paused and my eyes stang with venom. Embry carefully took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

That gave me enough courage to continue. “My brothers and I had to work by the time we were 5 years old. It was the only way to sustain the family. It was hard but we knew it had to be that way. We were working in the fields; we helped with chores; the elder siblings took care of the younger ones when our parents worked, you know.”

“One day - it was the summer before I turned 18, I was walking through the woods. We had been preparing for the winter, and I had to cut some wood for the fire, so we wouldn’t get cold during winter. I..I was walking through the woods when I saw him.”

Unconsciously, I started showing Embry my memories, as an illusion formed in front of us. I felt Embry wincing beside me. The young vampire in front of us was a ragamuffin, though beautiful, with long, curly, dark brown hair and bright red eyes. I only realized now that he spared me because he wasn’t hungry, he just wanted to bite me, to make me like him.

I saw my human self, terrified and frozen at the sight. I saw the vampire launching forward and attacking me, biting my wrist. I saw myself fall on the ground screaming. I saw the agony on my face, the tears. I remember how it felt like, the pain, the burning, then the agony and the pain in my throat 3 days later, when I woke up as a vampire, and the one who bit me was nowhere to be seen.

I forced the illusion to end. I didn’t know I was breathing heavily - I didn’t even need to breathe at all - until Embry grabbed both of my shoulders and held on to me tightly.

“Focus on me. Please. Take deep breaths.” I couldn’t focus on his eyes, my mind was running wild. He brought me closer to him and hugged me tightly. His warmth engulfed my whole body and I felt at ease. I smelled him deeply - he smelled of dirt and grass, but also pines, wood, and the ocean. I wondered how I smelled to him. Was it as bad as the wolves say we smell? Did Embry tolerate my smell for the sake of our mate bond?

“Thank you for being here,” was all I could tell him.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, in each other’s arms. I felt comfortable enough with him, my undead heart melting and my cold, hard-like-porcelain skin shivering under his touch.

“Embry?” He puffed a little, questioning me. “Please, be careful tomorrow. I cannot lose you, not now that I finally found you.”

He laughed. “I should say the same for you.” Now, I laughed. “I cannot lose you, (Y/N), not now, not tomorrow, not ever.” His eyes were serious and loving at the same time.

I didn’t want to ruin the moment but I kind of had to. “Also..um, Embry, I..I have to go..hunting, if you don’t mind.”

He pulled away a little bit, studying my face. “Let’s go!” He smiled, standing up, running to the woods, and turning into a wolf, his jeans wrapped around his left leg. I followed after him, stunned at his actions.

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