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monstersandmaw · 3 years

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Male vampire x male character (nsfw) Part Four

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Sorry for taking 84yrs to post this. I thought I had shared it. Sorry. Hope you enjoy all the same.

Wordcount: 10,904 (story total: 23,704)

Heads up in this part for continued, but easing, tense familial relations, some angst/heartache (not heartbreak though), and some (consensual) blood drinking.

Part One (sfw), Part Two (nsfw), Part Three (nsfw)

Alec let out a shaky breath and crossed to the sofa, sinking down onto it as his legs finally gave out. “Vampires,” he said, hardly daring to believe the word he was uttering.

“Yes.”

“And you’re one?”

“… Yes.”

“And my family…?”

Sebastien’s voice was tight on the other end of the line as he said, “Hunts my kind. Well, those of us who aren’t registered with the ‘Guild of Hunters’ —” his tone turned acrid as he spat the words out, though he kept his voice low and quiet.

“What does that even mean? I don’t know what any of this means… And did you know about my family? I mean, before? When you started dating me?”

Sebastien took another deep breath. “Yes. I knew. And it was a long time before I fully convinced myself that you did not.”

If Sebastien had thought it was some kind of trap, that would explain his reticence at the beginning for sure.

“And were you planning on telling me any of this?” Alec snarled. God, his chest hurt so much. The deception was like Jeremy cheating on him all over again, only this time the betrayal was coming from two fronts at once: from his love life and from his family. Not that he’d had all that solid a relationship with the latter to start with. Perhaps this explained why.

“I hadn’t planned on becoming your boyfriend at all,” Sebastien snapped.

“So, what, I was just a quick diversion? A casual fuck you kept coming back for because I’m such a fucking chump? Is that it?”

“No,” Sebastien sighed. “Not at all. I fell for you. Like the horrid cliche I am, the vampire fell for the hunter, and by then I had no idea how to tell you. I’ve not been with a human before, so this is all very new to me.”

Alec ran his fingers through his dark hair to buy himself a moment. “You… You haven’t?”

“No.”

“How… How old are you?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?”

“Yes!” His phone was slippery in his fingers now from the sweat on his palm but he couldn’t bring it away from his ear long enough to put it on speaker. He needed answers.

With another cavernous sigh, Sebastien said hurriedly, “Very well. I was born in 1897 and turned on the battlefields of the Great War — World War I, that is. I was dying, and a vampire named Felicity who had been working as a field nurse turned me. My first run-in with your family was not long after I moved from France to America. They were working with the American Hunters’ Guild on a case which had nothing to do with me.” He let out a shaky breath and said, “I got in the way and I nearly died. Those were the days before the treaty, of course, and before I moved to England.”

Despite his still-spinning mind, Alec managed to croak, “What treaty?”

“Those of us who get our blood from sanctioned blood banks and do not live-feed are exempt from being hunted like animals.” He spoke like he was quoting from a law code; cold and clinical; detached.

God, the way he said it made Alec’s skin crawl. It was as if he were being permitted to exist on the grounds of good behaviour and, he supposed, that was exactly the case. Even so, Alec couldn’t help the next words that just fell out of his mouth. “So you weren’t planning on feeding from me?”

“Of course not,” Sebastien retorted but then appeared to rein himself in with yet another steadying inhale. “No. It’s been decades since I’ve fed from a human directly. I didn’t plan on starting with you.”

Alec slumped back into the sofa cushions and stared up at the ceiling of his tiny apartment. “Fuck.”

After a long silence, Sebastien’s gentle tenor sounded in his ear. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve never been close to my family - my dad was always an arsehole, but… I can’t believe Theo’s involved in all this. He was such a sweet kid, and we were really close until…” he swallowed thickly around the rising lump in his throat.

“Until?” Sebastien prompted when he stalled again.

“I can’t believe this is all real,” he muttered. “Until he turned sixteen and started to ‘work out’ with dad. I was at uni by then, getting my fine art degree, but whenever I came home he was just… different. Harder. Sharper. More focused. Guess it makes sense now… Well, as much as… you know…” he gestured vaguely to the empty apartment with his hands, “… as much as all this can make sense. Fucking… vampires…”

After a heartbeat, Sebastien added softly, “Quite literally.”

Despite himself, Alec snorted. “So… where does this leave us?”

Now it was Sebastien’s turn to feel clearly uncomfortable. Eventually he said, “Alec, I don’t think it’s wise for me to see you currently. Not with your family being what they are.”

His heart twisted, even though he’d been half expecting it. “You still think they’d… what, stake you, or whatever it is that vampire hunters actually do to you lot?”

“There are many ways to kill a vampire,” he said flatly. “And your family knows all of them, probably more. You need to work this out with them first as well. Talk to your brother. He seems the more reasonable…”

“I can’t believe Ellie’s in on it as well. And my mother? Fuck…”

“Talk to them.”

“Will I still see you at work at least?”

The awkward silence told him all he needed to know, even before Sebastien said, “I just sent in my letter of resignation.”

“That was quick,” he hissed, stomach dropping. “You only just left.”

“Supernatural speed,” he replied bitterly. “Comes in useful for typing papers and getting out of awkward situations…”

That sparked another question in him. “Supernatural powers, huh? Can you turn into a bat too?”

“No.”

Then he thought of Sebastien’s Halloween outfit. “Wolf?”

He thought he detected a faint smirk in Sebastien’s response. “No, sadly. No shape-shifting for me. Felicity is not of any extraordinary bloodline, and thus, neither am I.”

“Right,” he grunted. “Of course. Is she… is she still around?”

“Felicity? Yes. We meet every now and again. She and her wife spend most of their time in Venice these days.”

“Her wife? She a vampire too?”

Sebastien swallowed audibly. “Yes.”

“Did Felicity turn her too? Would that make her wife your sister?”

“No.”

He frowned. “Did she know her as a human though?”

“Yes.”

After a moment of spinning thoughts, Alec asked, “Did… you turn her?”

“One doesn’t tend to turn one’s own intended. Between a sire and their turned, there can grow… tension. Not always, but it can be enough to ruin a relationship that was seemingly solid before. Something about exchanging blood changes the soul… or so we think, anyway. It was an honour to be asked to sire her.”

“Right.” Alec felt slightly sick. “Will I at least see you before you leave?”

“I think it best if we don’t. Not while your family is still… ‘investigating’ me.”

“Are you really in danger from them?”

“Quite possibly. My name is on the treaty, but…”

Something twanged painfully again in his chest, swiftly followed by the fizzle of fear through his veins. “But what?”

“But vampires and hunters are not supposed to sleep together, Alec…”

“Don’t bang the enemy? How very Romeo and Juliet,” he snorted. “Fuck. Why does every good relationship I have turn to shit?” he asked, not of Sebastien but of the universe itself. “What did I do?”

“Alec —”

“—Don’t. Don’t make it worse by apologising or something. It’s fine. We were only together a month. I’ll get over it. You’ll move on. Heck, you’ll fucking live forever, right? What’s a month to you anyway? Nothing, right?”

The bitterness in his own voice nearly choked him, and without thinking, or even saying goodbye, he just hung up and let his phone lie in his limp fingers on the sofa cushions. It lit up and rang a moment later, but he didn’t answer it. Six more times Sebastien tried before finally giving up.

Kay was an absolute blessing in the next few days.

He didn’t tell her immediately about the whole vampire thing, but after he’d calmed down enough to be able to look at Theo without immediately busting a vein in his forehead, he hashed the basics out with him, and then told her everything. Alec told her about his newly-discovered, secret family occupation which, apparently, stretched back centuries. He told her about the fact that his eldest sister and younger brother were monster hunters in their spare time, and he told her the real reason Sebastien why had vanished overnight without a trace — yes, Alec had gone to his apartment building, only to be politely informed by the doorman that Dr. Dulac was no longer in residence and did not leave so much as a forwarding address.

That, above almost everything else, shattered Alec’s hopes of seeing him again. Like thistledown in the wind, Sebastien had simply flitted away somewhere else.

She took it about as well as he had to start with, but when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, and when, three weekends later, she came to his apartment for a definitely-not-awkward dinner with Theo, she saw video footage that Theo and his father had captured from various hunts of supernatural creatures beyond only beautiful vampires. Then she believed him. Ghouls, ghosts, reanimated corpses, demons… you name it and Theo could tell you about it.

Alec spent Christmas with Kay’s family, and Theo met him for New Year drinks in the city, joined by Ellie. It wasn’t anything like the family dynamic he’d always longed for, but the new degree of openness between them went some way to mending his still bruised heart. Slowly. Gradually. Piece by tentative, honest piece. He never joined in, but Theo started to tell him a bit about what they did. It still sounded barbaric to him, but at least it was true.

He had no word from Sebastien, and the number he had saved in his phone had been disconnected.

With the arrival of spring, Alec found himself more than usually dissatisfied with his job. He was a good teacher, and he enjoyed seeing his students’ talents evolve and grow, but the ever-increasing admin ground him down, and the politics of the faculty and the university as a whole wore on him.

“Have you seen this?” Kay asked one afternoon as they shared a takeaway coffee beneath the drifting cherry blossoms. Petals spiralled down like pastel pink and white wedding confetti, and he watched with an absent smile as a terrier snapped and sprung around on his hind legs trying to catch them while his owner stood and talked with her friend nearby. “Oi!” Kay asked, digging him in the ribs.

“Hmm?”

“Have you seen this?” she asked, shoving her phone under his nose.

He blinked, refocusing his eyes, and read the article’s headline aloud. “Council offers artists the chance to win a sponsored exhibition in the town hall with this unique competition.” He blinked. “So?”

“So?” she gawped. “You can’t be serious?”

“Send me the link. I’ll forward it to my students. They might like that.” That earned him a smack upside the head, and he scowled. “What was that for?”

“Alec, you might be the dumbest smart guy I know,” she said. “I showed it to you so that you could enter it, you giant idiot.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“I saw those charcoals you did the other week of the cathedral! They were amazing!! And the abstracts too… I still want one, by the way.”

“It’s already wrapped up for your birthday,” he groused. “You really think I should do it?”

She rolled her eyes and drained the last of her coffee without gracing him with an answer. Of course she thought he should.

“When’s the deadline?”

“Next Thursday,” she said without looking at him.

Alec licked his lips and swallowed. “Will you help me pick some images to submit?”

Her answering grin was feral.

In all honesty, Alec forgot about having even entered the competition until the letter dropped through his door six weeks later announcing that, to his utter astonishment, he had been selected as the winner. Tears blurred his eyes and he sat down heavily at the tiny kitchen table. He’d never entered any of his own art into anything like this in his whole life, and the first time he does, he gets a whole fucking public exhibition out of it?

“Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all,” he murmured. “New year, new start…” His chest still ached when he thought about Sebastien, and he hoped he was doing alright, wherever he was.

Theo had been searching for him, probably by way of apology for lying to his big brother for all these years, but he’d turned up very little. Sebastien had gone to Venice first, it seemed, presumably to spend time with Felicity and her wife, but had disappeared completely after that, with only rumours flickering here and there that he was in Paris, St. Petersburg, Prague, and then potentially Florence. Maybe.

“Venice seems like a pretty sunny place for a pair of vampires to live,” Alec commented, but Theo shrugged.

“They don’t burn up immediately in sunlight, or your professor would never have been able to take a day-job at the university. They’re sensitive to it, some more than others, but it takes a full day of constant sunlight beating down for them to burn properly.” The callousness of his brother’s response shook him, even after all these months, and Theo must have seen it on his face because he sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then added, “You really loved him, didn’t you?”

Alec shrugged. Yes, he wanted to say. I thought so. “I only knew him for a month or so,” was what he said carefully instead. “And even then… turned out I didn’t know him anyway.”

Theo, who had been lounging on Alec’s sofa with his legs spread and his head tipped back into the cushions while Alec made supper, asked quietly, “Did he seem… normal to you?”

“Normal?” Alec asked, not sure he’d heard his brother correctly.

“Yeah… like… did you ever suspect he wasn’t… you know…?”

“Human?”

Theo grunted and nodded his head. “Yeah. I guess.”

“No. Obviously not. Never crossed my mind. Why would it have?”

Theo scowled and turned his eyes to regard him. Alec knew that Theo looked like a younger version of himself, if maybe in better shape, and he wondered if he’d have the same steely look in his eyes if he’d been deemed ‘man enough’ to become a hunter, or whatever bullshit criteria their arsehole father had used to select which members of his family were to become soldiers and which would live normal lives.

“What?” Alec demanded.

“But you slept with him, right?”

“I’m not talking about that with you,” he said, briefly brandishing the wooden spoon at him.

Theo pulled a face. “I’m not asking about your sex life. Gross. No, I mean…”

In that moment, Alec spotted a flash of something in his brother’s blue eyes that softened him to the kid. He turned off the gas and went over to where Theo was now sitting hunched over with his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. When he looked up at Alec’s approach, his face showed open vulnerability in a way he’d not seen since they were young children and Theo had got himself into trouble at school.

“What’s going on?” Alec asked, seating himself next to his little brother.

Theo bobbed his knee like a deprived caffeine addict and bit his lip. With glassy eyes, he croaked, “I keep asking myself if we did the right thing…”

“What do you mean?”

The bravado of Theo’s early twenties melted away to become a worried, frightened, guilty little boy again and he said, “I mean… if what we do is right…”

“You mean… hunting?”

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“What set this off?”

His brother quirked him a humourless smirk and said, “You always did know when something was bothering me.”

Alec remained quiet, just watching him.

“We teamed up with some hunters from Edinburgh for a ‘vamp gone rogue’ case and we finally found her yesterday. She… She’d been turning people; trying to amass some kind of small army to take over from another vampire further up north. She was insane… like, completely, sociopathically insane, but… the people she turned… they were just…” he blinked, and Alec saw with a jolt that his eyes were full of unshed tears. “They were still just people.”

He feared he already knew where this was going. Still, he asked, “What happened?”

“Father wanted to put them down. They were terrified, chained up… still on the point of lashing out…”

Bile rose in his throat. “Oh god…”

“One of the hunters said she knew of a vampire who could help rehabilitate them; help them adjust to their new lives. One of them didn’t want to live as a vampire though, so father just…”

Theo didn’t need to finish that for Alec to know that father had ended the newly-turned vampire’s life in a heartbeat. “And the rest?”

“The other three went with the hunter. I don’t know what happened, but… I trust her. It’s just… father taught me and Ellie that vampires are mindless killers when they feed… that you can’t get close to them, that all they want at the end of the day is blood no matter what they tell you… but…” he looked up at Alec. “You’ve been fucking miserable since the whole Sebastien shit-fest. I know you’ve been trying to hide it, and you’ve got the exhibition coming up next weekend, and that’s great, but… I know you’ve stopped putting yourself out there. And we did that. We fucked it all up for you. I just…” he ran his hands through his hair and sent it into wild disarray. “I just wonder if you could really have been happy with him after all.”

Alec pulled his brother close and hugged him. “I’m not going to lie,” he murmured into his brother’s dark hair. “I’m furious with father for keeping everything from me, and for making you and mum and Ellie lie to me and Angie about it as well, but… if I hadn’t seen Sebastien’s eyes go red — yeah, I thought it was just a reflection or something — and if I hadn’t seen the way he sleeps literally like the dead… I’m not sure I would have believed you anyway. I don’t forgive him for it either, but…” he sighed deeply. “I forgive you, Theo. And Ellie.”

“And mum?”

“I’m still working on that.”

Theo went slack beneath him and snaked his arms around his brother’s waist for a moment. “Thanks,” he mumbled into Alec’s shirt.

“You’re still coming to the exhibition?” Alec asked as he pulled back and went back to the stove, giving Theo a moment of privacy to pull himself together.

In truth, Alec was a little shaken too. Their relationship had been slowly patched over the intervening months, but it still wasn’t particularly close, and the matter of Sebastien had been a permanent, proverbial elephant in the room. That Theo was questioning their father’s teaching came as an immense relief to Alec though. He poured them each a glass of wine, and the two spent the rest of the evening in a quieter kind of closeness than they’d yet shared.

When the evening of the exhibition drew round, Alec was quite frankly, a bit of a mess.

“C’mon,” Theo grinned, patting the lapels of his jacket down for him and grinning up at him. “Where’s that Twayblade hunter courage, huh?”

“Must have skipped me and all gone to you,” he quipped back. “Fuck. I’m so nervous. Why am I so nervous?”

“No fucking clue,” Theo chuckled. “You’re awesome and they’re gonna fucking love you.”

“Language,” Alec said instinctively and Theo’s laughter redoubled.

“You’re a big fucking hypocrite, you know that?” Theo laughed just as Kay sidled up with three glasses of champagne awkwardly held between her hands.

“Help a girl out here, would you, boys?” she asked, proffering the glasses to them.

Alec resisted the urge to down it in one — he’d probably only choke on the bubbles anyway — and filled his lungs instead with a big gulp of air. He tried to send all his nerves into the air and then blow it out of his body in one heaving sigh to leave him calmer, but it just gave him a head rush, so he sipped the wine and turned to look around the gallery from the corner where he’d been lurking.

“What if no one shows up?” he blurted, earning him a scowl from Theo and a pout-and-eyebrow-raise combo from Kay.

He needn't have worried in the end. The marketing team had done their work, and within an hour the place was heaving and all but three of his pieces had been reserved. Scratch that. Two.

The fact that almost all of his students had turned up as well to cheer him on and trade high fives, and scrounge free alcohol and food from the canape trays, warmed him in ways he didn’t know were possible.

Overwhelmed and a little bit tearful, he stepped out of the town hall’s main exhibition space and into the small corridor that led to a fire exit and a grotty back car park beyond, letting the flush die down from his cheeks. This was what he’d really wanted right from the moment he’d graduated all those years ago; to be an artist in his own right, with people buying his work at exhibitions… It almost made him giddy to think that he had a chance to do this full time now. It seemed that Sebastien had been right when he’d said he could really make something of himself.

Ah, there was the crash in his mood that he’d been waiting for. Nothing good lasts forever, right?

Would Sebastien have been proud of him if he knew about this? Would he have been there that night, by his side? Would they even have lasted that long anyway, even without his family’s interference?

The noise in the room was gradually dying down when he gathered enough courage to step back into the echoing hall. The pale wooden floors gleamed in the low light, the white of the temporary exhibition walls almost glowing, in stark contrast to the black and grey of his charcoals. He’d chosen mostly charcoals for the show, with a few acrylic abstracts for flavour, and apparently people loved them. Every single one had a red ‘sold’ dot beneath the label now, he noted as he cast his eyes around the room.

Then his gaze snagged on someone standing with their back to him, hands clasped loosely behind them, a long, silver-blond ponytail hanging down their back. And Alec’ vision slipped sideways.

Sebastien.

It had to be him.

No one else stood with posture like that. No one else was so tall and lean and elegant and god-damned graceful, even when just standing still. And no one else stood quite as still as that.

He let out a ragged breath and swayed slightly, glancing around. There was no sign of Theo or Kay just then, and only one or two couples meandered admiringly around the room. And there, fixated by one piece in particular, stood Sebastien.

Inhaling for courage, Alec approached and came to an unsteady halt a few feet away from him. He didn’t look real, somehow. His beauty had always been striking, but now in the low light he seemed like a mirage, with his warm olive skin and contrastingly pale hair, that cut-glass jawline and —

— He turned and met Alec’s gaze with dark brown eyes alight and glassy.

“You’re here,” Alec breathed, at a loss for anything else.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sebastien said, and the sound of his voice sent a wild tingling through Alec’s whole nervous system. The man — vampire — looked uncharacteristically shy, uncertain, as he half turned to face him.

“Gotta say,” Alec said, scratching the back of his head, “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“Should I leave?”

He chewed his lower lip for a second and Sebastien’s eyes tracked the movement before he blinked and looked back at the charcoal in front of him. It was of the Lady Chapel of the cathedral; one of the most tranquil places Alec had ever been. A shaft of light lanced down from a Gothic window high on the right, scattering fractured shards of light onto the stone floor, and behind it, just barely visible as a grey, misty outline, sat the small altar.

“You’re religious?” Alec asked.

“Mm,” Sebastien nodded. “Surprising, I know, given my ‘condition’, but there you have it.”

All the smalltalk then suddenly boiled up into thick irritation inside Alec and he scowled. “Where have you been? And why now? Why come back now? What do you want?”

He must have raised his voice fractionally because the couple admiring the seascape to their left shot them slightly scandalised looks, as if he’d started swearing in a sanctuary, and he bit back the wave of anger, halting it in its tracks.

“Shall we step outside for a moment?” Sebastien asked and Alec nodded tersely.

Passing Kay and Theo who were sitting in the chairs near the drinks table, Alec cast his eyes at them and watched Theo tense visibly. Kay laid her hand on his thigh and shook her head, at which Theo nodded and sat back, eyes hard, mouth set, but at least he didn’t appear to be on the point of leaping out and staking Sebastien on the spot.

Alec mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ at them both, and followed Sebastien out on to the street.

“You’ve patched things up with your family then?” Sebastien began, standing perfectly still beside the brick wall of the Victorian building while Alec paced.

“Mostly just with Theo, but yeah. Why are you here?” he asked again.

“Honestly? I missed you. Couldn't get you out of my head. I went all over Europe, and even to Asia briefly, and nothing I did distracted me from you, from leaving you. I had to come back.”

“You could have called,” he said, instantly regretting the way it came out like a petulant teenager’s sulking.

“And what would that have achieved?” Sebastien asked evenly. “I was hundreds of miles away.”

“You could have come back sooner? Talked to me in person?”

Sebastien sighed. “I was afraid that your family would come after me. I needed to disappear.”

“Theo convinced father to let you go. As you said yourself, your name was on the treaty, and you didn’t hurt me or hypnotise me, or whatever… did you?”

“No,” he said, pale brows pinching with evident distaste.

“Could you have?”

Sebastien levelled him with a dark look. “Yes, but… that’s not something I enjoy doing. It’s a survival mechanism — to make people forget what they’ve seen — it’s not something to be used lightly.”

“Ok, but you could have, and you didn’t, so that was another reason to let you go,” he said. God he wanted to kiss him. The realisation hit him like a gut punch and he turned away. Alec ached inside and out for those lips, those hands, those eyes… “Fuck,” he whispered, barely audible. “Are you staying?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Alec rounded on him, frustration pouring out of him again. “Don’t answer my question with one of your own. Are you staying or not?”

Sebastien remained eerily calm, but a heartbeat later Alec saw that it wasn’t serenity in his eyes but sadness. “If you want me to, I’ll stay. I want to try again, Alec. I want… I want to be with you. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you.”

“Feel? As in… present tense?”

“Yes. It hasn’t faded. Not with all the days and distance between us.”

“God, you sound like a shitty romance novel hero…” he scoffed. “I almost believe it.”

Sebastien spread his hands and said, “I am who — and what — I am. You know me, Alec, in a way that no one else ever has. I was utterly myself with you, except for the fact that I kept my nature from you. I hope you can at least understand why, if not forgive me. Everything else was genuine. I have never done that — been that open, that vulnerable — with anyone.”

“Even knowing what my family are?”

“Even then.”

Alec looked up at him and saw his own reflection in those dark, rich brown eyes. “Show me.”

Sebastien’s angelic face soured into a confused frown. “Show you what?”

“Your eyes. Your fangs. Show me what you are.”

“Now?”

He looked around. The street was empty on either side, with the only people around gathered outside a bar further up the street.

When he turned back to say yes to Sebastien, he found blood red eyes glowing in the man’s face. “Holy fuck,” he hissed. Every already-chiselled line on Sebastien’s face had sharpened somehow, his cheeks hollowing a little, perhaps to account for the additional hardware he now sported in his mouth, and his eyes seemed a touch more sunken. And they glowed as if lit from within.

Heartbeat thrumming out a wild tattoo, he stepped closer and Sebastien went utterly still. His chest ceased to rise and fall, and he didn’t even blink as Alec raised his fingers to his left cheek. “Show me.”

Sebastien swallowed and parted his lips. Angling his jaw a little to one side, he showed Alec the elongated canines, three quarters of an inch long. “Careful,” he murmured as Alec made to touch them. “Vampire venom is potent, even in small doses.”

“Does it really do what the hunters say it does?”

Sebastien’s red eyes glittered almost playfully. “I don’t know,” he smiled, seeming to relax a fraction. “What do they say it does?”

“Drives your victims wild, acts like a date rape drug, makes humans lose their will and their inhibitions…”

At that, a hardness returned to his features and his lip twitched in a lopsided snarl, like a wolf backed into a corner. “That’s certainly one take on it,” he said. “It creates a rush of euphoria. It’s supposed to make feeding a pleasant experience for all concerned. Endorphins in the blood make the taste sweeter, and the human feels no pain or fear.”

“Right. Gotta say I like that one better,” Alec said with a shaky smile. “But I’m not gonna risk it right here… And fuck me, your eyes are incredible.”

“They’re still red, hmm?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Closing his eyes and tilting his face upwards a little more towards the cloudy night sky, he inhaled deeply. His features softened again, and Alec watched, fascinated, as the slight bumps behind his closed upper lip slid away into nothing, presumably as his canines retracted into his gums. When he opened his eyes, they were their usual, endlessly dark brown once more.

“Better?” Sebastien asked, oddly self-conscious.

“No,” he said. “Just different.”

Something prickled on the back of his neck and he turned to find a woman silhouetted against the light of street lamp halfway up the road. “Friend of yours?” he asked, tense.

“Felicity. She came with me.”

“Why? Surely you don’t need a wingman… or, you know, woman.”

With a tiny smile, Sebastien said, “You make me more vulnerable than you realise, in more ways than one. And we weren’t sure if your family would be here.”

“Or whether they’d want to flambé you…”

“Precisely.” He inclined his head and the woman did the same, turning and vanishing even as Alec blinked.

“Can you do that too?” he asked, still gawping after her.

When he turned back, he found that Sebastien had stepped in close to him - close enough that his faint, woody cologne wafted gently around them and he felt his knees wobble slightly. He’d missed this. Oh god, he’d missed this. “Mmhmm,” Sebastien hummed. “I can.”

“Kiss me,” Alec whispered. “Please…”

Sebastien didn’t need telling twice. He took Alec’s face in both his hands and crushed a passionate kiss to his lips so hard that Alec’s mind went perfectly blank for a few beautiful seconds. When he came to, he grabbed Sebastien’s narrow hips and tugged him close, making the vampire grunt as their bodies connected.

This time, he took Sebastien’s ponytail in one hand and began to pull on it gently. Sebastien yielded at the pressure and tipped his face back, exposing the entire column of his throat to Alec without resistance. The gesture left Alec stunned and breathless. In his research with Theo over the past months, he had learned that for a vampire to expose their throat to another implied absolute trust. Overwhelmed, he pressed his lips to the bare skin and felt Sebastien gasp, grabbing at his shoulders suddenly to keep himself upright.

Over and over, the vampire shuddered tangibly beneath his touch and gasped sharply again, panting. As he shifted his hips against him, Alec felt Sebastien’s growing hardness, and at the same time, Sebastien drew back, eyes screwed shut. “Stop,” he laughed. “Not here.”

“I want you,” Alec moaned, one hand on Sebastien’s chest. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I want you too,” Sebastien smiled, opening his eyes. They glowed scarlet again. “And because of that, this —” he said, gesturing to his red eyes, “— isn’t going to go away quickly this time.”

“This too?” Alec said, boldly cupping the obvious bulge in Sebastien’s smart black trousers gently with his hand and making the vampire groan.

“Yeah, that too.”

“Your place or mine?” Alec asked with a dizzy grin.

“You decide. I’m booked into a hotel one street over for the next two days,” he said. “If that affects your decision in any way.”

“Yours,” he said. “I… I’ll just…” he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the exhibition banner dangling by the door. “I should…”

Sebastien nodded slowly. “I’ll be here.”

“You’d better be,” he snarled as he adjusted himself and prayed no one would notice. He took a few steadying breaths on the threshold of the town hall and then disappeared inside.

Kay raised her eyebrows at him when he reappeared.

“Not a word,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Your hair’s a mess,” she said conversationally. “Is it windy outside?”

“Fuck off,” he grimaced and she laughed. “Where’s Theo?”

“He left out the back way,” she said. “But he told me to tell you to enjoy yourself tonight, and that he’ll stand by whatever makes you happy.”

Unexpected tears prickled his eyes and he tugged her into a hug that was probably meant for his brother.

“You can thank us later,” she said, shoving him off her. “Go be with your Prince of Darkness…”

“I’m not sure how much he’d like you calling him that,” he said as he stepped back. “I’ll have to wrap things up here first…”

It seemed to take forever, but he finally found the events coordinator and after an interminable conversation full of congratulations, agreed to stop by the next day to take down the exhibition and sort the sales out. His heart was thudding when he stepped back outside, but he let out a huge sigh when he saw Sebastien leaning against the brick building, face tilted towards the moon that was just peeking out from behind a bank of cloud.

“It’s like one of your charcoals,” Sebastien said without tearing his eyes from the sky.

Alec crossed to him and smiled when Sebastien met his gaze, red meeting blue. Alec slid his fingers into Sebastien’s where his hand hung quietly by his side.

“Ready?” the vampire asked.

Alec nodded, and let Sebastien lead him back to his hotel.

They barely made it into the lift before Alec was kissing him, backing him into the mirrored sides of the lift with a thud before the doors had even closed. He stopped suddenly, drew back and laughed, and Sebastien — who looked like he’d just got whiplash — asked, “What?”

“Vampires do have reflections after all…”

Sebastien rolled his eyes and gave an indecorous snort-laugh. The sound was rich and warm and it filled Alec’s whole consciousness for a moment. “It’s only the antique ones with genuine silver backing that don’t show our reflections. Technology has evolved, thank goodness. Now, if you don’t mind, you were kissing me senseless…”

“Sorry,” he laughed, grabbing Sebastien’s white shirt collar and tugging him down again. They nearly didn’t get out of the lift at Sebastien’s floor, but as the doors began to close again, Sebastien slid his foot into the path of the doors and dragged Alec out.

Clothes landed in a steady line on the carpet between the door of his hotel room and Sebastien’s bed, ending with them both in only their boxer-briefs on the pristine white surface of the bed. Alec was tipped back onto the duvet and lay there staring up at Sebastien who was now no longer hiding his nature from him at all. Red eyes blazed in his face and as he opened his mouth to breath heavily, the tips of his fangs were just visible. There was no denying that he was a vampire.

“Was it like this before?” Alec asked hoarsely. “I mean… did I just not see it?”

“I had to work very hard to rein all this in,” he said, kneeling on the bed and crawling a little way up it. His own boxer briefs strained at the crotch where his erection tented the fabric, and Alec’s own black ones were stained with a little spot of wetness where his cock twitched with eager interest. “I only let it slip once or twice, but you were distracted at the time.”

Alec smirked and then moaned as Sebastien’s palm skimmed up over his groin and over his stomach. He’d always been a bit self-conscious about the softer parts of him, but Sebastien worshipped him like he was some kind of immortal god, lavishing attention on him over and over until he was shaking and gasping and sweating. “Please!” he begged after what felt like hours. “Oh god, please…”

Sebastien slid off the bed and deftly removed his own underwear before encouraging Alec to lift his hips for him and drawing his boxer-briefs down too. Before Alec could think or process what was happening, Sebastien was between his legs again and had swallowed the entire length of his cock to the back of his throat in one.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, mind whiting out.

Sparks of pleasure shot up his spine as Sebastien worked him alternately with his mouth and his hand.

He teased him, licking the slit at the tip where pre-come beaded profusely now, teasing the delicate folds of skin until Alec thought he was going to shatter apart with want. Just before it got too much to bear, Sebastien would take him back into the wet heat of his mouth and work the underside of his cock with his tongue, swallowing occasionally and making Alec’s head spin all over again.

His balls tightened and he spread his legs wider, instinctively opening himself to Sebastien.

The vampire moaned against his cock and Alec whimpered. Pulling off him, an obscenely inviting thread of saliva and pre-come connecting them briefly, Sebastien sat up and reached for the top drawer of the bedside table. “Vampires neither catch nor transmit diseases,” he said, “But if you still wish to use protection —”

“— I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he rasped. “And I’m clean anyway…”

“As you wish,” Sebastien smiled, withdrawing an almost-new bottle of lube and sitting back down between his legs. Alec eyed it and Sebastien laughed shyly. “I opened it last night…” he admitted and Alec grinned.

That smirk shattered into an open-mouthed groan as Sebastien’s finger slid inside him and he began to prepare him. There was nothing perfunctory about it either. Sebastien took his time to work him open, his fingers fucking into him slowly, almost reverently, until he crooked them and Alec yelled as white-hot pleasure shot through him.

“Still so sensitive,” Sebastien crooned and Alec just shivered in response. His thighs were quivering too now from the effort of not bucking upwards into the empty air, his cock drooling freely over his slightly soft stomach with each futile twitch. He knew he was a wanton mess, and he couldn’t quite find it within himself to care. It seem to drive Sebastien wild anyway.

When Sebastien added a third finger, still stroking up and down his thigh with his other hand, Alec broke.

“Please, please, please,” he whimpered, out of breath and desperate. He cracked his eyes open and looked down at Sebastien to find that his red eyes had been almost eclipsed by his blown pupils. He gave a weak buck of his hips to try and encourage Sebastien to get on with it, but the vampire seemed utterly transfixed by him. He worked his fingers over Alec’s prostate gently but with absolute precision, and it was going to make Alec lose his mind altogether.

“Pleasepleaseplease, I need you, please…” he wailed as Sebastien’s mercifully short and blunt fingernail caught him just so and sent another jolt through him.

Finally the vampire moved, but as he withdrew completely, the loss almost shattered him. “Shh,” he smiled, stroking a soothing circle at Alec’s hipbone. “I’m still here…”

Alec whimpered like a wounded animal but his foggy brain accepted that the loss was only temporary, and he watched as Sebastien took his own flushed cock in his hands and slicked lube up the length of it in a couple of efficient strokes, head bowing under the attention it was receiving at last. He’d focused solely, completely, on Alec’s pleasure for all that time, and the realisation sent a fresh wave of lust rolling through Alec’s entire body.

He spread his legs, but Sebastien caught Alec under his left thigh and raised his leg easily, exposing Alec completely. Before Alec could process anything, his tip was nudging at Alec’s entrance, and then he had sunk all the way in to the hilt.

Sebastien froze then, bowed forwards over Alec like a supplicant, canines openly bared, eyes screwed shut, not even breathing.

“Sebastien… please…” Alec grunted. He’d never felt as full and whole as he had with Sebastien inside him, and yet this wasn’t enough. He’d ached for this. For months, he’d ached for it, and still it wasn’t enough. “Bast, please…”

Finally, the vampire opened his searing red eyes and began to move.

Slowly at first, he picked up his pace until Alec’s back was arching and his fingers clawed great furrows in the sheet beneath him. With each thrust, Alec saw stars at let out little fractured, broken gasps. Sebastien was quiet, almost silent, while Alec himself was unable to stop the sounds from tumbling out of him. He moaned and whimpered, gasped and cursed and begged until Sebastien yanked him further down the bed and lifted his hips a little way off the mattress entirely.

From this new angle, it was so blindingly good that Alec went alternately taut and limp with ecstasy. “I’m close,” he gasped over the slap of Sebastien’s hips meeting his skin.

The vampire snarled then; an inhuman sound that sent the hairs prickling all down Alec’s body.

“Come for me,” Alec begged in a whisper, opening his eyes and watching as Sebastien chased his release with a ferocity he’d never shown before. He wasn’t careless with his strength, but he was certainly forceful. Had Alec wanted to grunt ‘stop’, he knew the vampire would halt, but that was the furthest thing from his mind as he watched the flawless perfection of this man above him. “God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Come for me, Bast…”

And at the sound of his name, uttered in little more than an abbreviated wheeze, Sebastien went still, hips spasming as his spine arched back like a bow at full draw, mouth open, head thrown back, fangs bared, eyes rammed shut, a sheen of sweat covering his perfect, bronze chest, his silver hair falling around him like a veil.

The sight of him like that wrenched Alec’s orgasm from him with such sudden force that he almost blacked out, and he clenched around Sebastien’s still-twitching cock as he spilled all over himself. Vaguely, he felt Sebastien trying to withdraw, but he grunted, “Don't… not yet… please… I… unngghh…” Unable to finish the sentence as the last shock waves fluttered through him, Alec went limp against the bed, breathing hard, his blood roaring in his ears.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Sebastien did finally move, but eventually he slid his softening cock out of him and Alec grunted at the cool slide of the vampire’s release down his thigh. He was too spent and exhausted to care about the mess though, and as Sebastien collapsed onto the bed beside him, he cracked one eye open.

Sebastien lay on his left side with his cheek pillowed on his bicep, facing Alec with his eyes closed, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Tentatively, clumsily in the daze of his recent, mind-blowing orgasm, Alec reached out and touched the delicate skin on the inside of his arm. Sebastien jolted like he’d received an electric shock, and opened his eyes. They still burned bright red, but the rest of his face seemed a little softer somehow.

“You alright?” Alec asked.

Sebastien nodded.

“Been a while too, huh?” Alec grinned, flopping back down to stare at the ceiling where little points of light still sparkled across his vision every now and again.

“Not since that last night with you,” he said, words slurred with exhaustion. “Unless you count my rather pathetic climax alone last night, which I certainly don’t.”

“Not at all?”

He shook his head but didn’t speak again. The vampire lay perfectly still — perfectly undead — and perfectly vulnerable beside him without even a sheet to cover him. His cock now lay soft across the top of his right thigh, still drooling a little and making a mess on his olive skin. Not half as much mess as Alec was currently sporting over his torso, he mused with another smile.

With Sebastien showing no sign of stirring, Alec rolled carefully off the bed and headed on shaky legs to the shower. When he returned, Sebastien hadn’t moved, and he slid in beside him, drawing the sheets up around them and lying there to stare at him in the dimness of the unlit room, processing everything. Sebastien was back, and apparently wanted to stay. He could hardly believe how well that day had gone.

Waking the next morning with a cool, lean body pressed against him, Alec sighed, relieved that it hadn’t all been some kind of fever dream brought on by the stress of the exhibition.

The fact that the man next to him was an undead vampire who didn’t breathe in his sleep was a bit unnerving, and the way he had his cheek now resting on Alec’s collarbone and his nose pressed against his neck should also probably have been a bit of a warning, but Alec couldn’t bring himself to move, except to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

Suddenly, as if surfacing from boundless depths, Sebastien’s body heaved and he drew in a great, sucking, rasping inhale through his mouth. His lips brushed against Alec’s pulse and Sebastien began breathing heavily there for a moment.

“That will never not be weird,” Alec murmured.

“Apologies,” Sebastien muttered, trying to roll away. He paused, freezing, and then whispered, “I fell asleep…” as if that was something miraculous.

“Yeah, you passed out almost as soon as we both finished,” he snickered.

Sebastien turned his big, dark, doe eyes on Alec and said, “No, you don’t understand. Vampires don’t just shut down like that the way humans do. We only sleep somewhere we know is secure and safe…”

“Oh,” Alec said significantly as the realisation plunged through him. He tucked his arm under Sebastien’s head and tugged him closer so that their bodies were once again flush with one another. “I’m glad you felt safe…”

Sebastien sighed, trailing his fingertips across Alec’s chest in absent circles. His cock twitched too, and Alec shot him a look.

With a bashful smile, Sebastien said, “I can’t help that I find you attractive, Alec…”

“Wasn't complaining,” he grinned.

It was a long time before they rolled off each other that morning, with the sun well up and the sheets damp with sweat and tangled around their ankles. Vampires, it seemed, had a longer refractory period than humans, but Sebastien also came so big when he did that Alec wasn’t surprised. He gave everything to Alec when he came that Alec could quite happily lie there all day just staring at him as he came down afterwards.

The room was chilly, however, and when Sebastien seemed to have dozed off again around ten o’clock, he headed to clean up. Again.

As the steam billowed around him, he tipped his head back into the stream of searing water and nearly yelped as the shower door opened and let in a rush of cold air as Sebastien stepped into the stall as well. Cool hands found his waist and then strong fingers kneaded his arse appreciatively before Sebastien kissed and nibbled up his shoulder and traps to his neck. Instinctively, Alec tilted his head to one side and Sebastien moaned, pressing open-mouthed kisses there over and over as the hot water coursed around his lips.

The sensation must have been too much for him because he pulled back sharply with a hiss and Alec turned to face him, water still streaming down around them. Sebastien stood frozen, eyes red, staring at Alec’s neck. “I shouldn’t…” he began. “That was stupid of me… I…”

“What happens to the treaty if the human is willing?” Alec found himself asking. He’d thought about it a lot before drifting off the previous night. If Sebastien had wanted to drink from him, to feed on him, what would happen to the tenuous peace between hunters and vampires like him.

“Don’t,” Sebastien said through gritted teeth. His canines were elongated, Alec noted.

“What happens?”

“The only way it’s permitted is if the human agrees by written contract to become the vampire’s source.”

“‘Source’?” he asked. “That sounds like an official title.”

“It is,” Sebastien said, relaxing a fraction and putting his hands back on Alec’s hips. His cock stirred with interest and Sebastien smiled. He leaned back in, as if proving to both of them that he could do this, and kissed down Alec’s neck again from the junction of his jaw all the way to his collarbones. He ground his hips against Alec and they both began to harden again.

Alec’s hand went to Sebastien’s cock and he started to stroke him gently, knowing he was still sensitive from their last round. Sebastien let out a ragged exhale, the cool breath making Alec shiver slightly in the heat of the water.

“So…” Alec pressed gently, thumbing across the top of Sebastien’s flushed cock.

“Hmm?” he asked, a little stunned.

“What is a source?”

“A human becoming a vampire’s source means that the vampire drinks only from that human. It’s… an ancient - ah - custom,” he said, gripping Alec’s shoulders as Alec upped the speed and adjusted his grip to tighten just a little around his now fully hard cock. “Rarely used today, but still… nngh…”

“Mmm?” Alec grinned, loving that the vampire’s thoughts were unravelling under his touch. “Go on.”

“You’re a menace,” he laughed breathily, nipping playfully at his neck and then kissing him hard. Alec’s back suddenly hit the icy tiles behind him and he yelped, rearing into Sebastien who wasn’t all that much warmer, though the heat of the water was raising his body temperature from the ambient temperature of the room.

“So if…” Alec began, somewhat distracted as Sebastien’s kisses continued and the vampire raked his fingers through Alec’s wet hair, scraping luxuriantly across his scalp hard enough to make him break off and groan. “If… if I wanted to become your…”

“Don’t,” Sebastien whispered. “Not yet. Not so soon after… all this time.”

The subtext was clear. Let’s see if this is going to last before I risk my life with the hunters guild and your family, shall we?

“Fair enough. Nothing to say I can’t suck you off now though, right?”

“Nothing at all,” he whispered and then immediately cursed as Alec sank to his knees and did just that.

It was only as he was handing in his own letter of resignation that the truth really sank in for Alec. He’d gone from post-grad assistant in the department to a full lecturer, where he’d stayed for six years, and now he was moving a little way out of the city, and moving in with his boyfriend of a year. A vampire, nonetheless. His life had gone from miserable to wonderful in that relatively short time.

Sebastien met him at the edge of campus after he’d handed the letter personally to the head of department. Standing under the verdant cherry trees, Sebastien looked like a vision. He wore tight, dark jeans and a loose shirt, half untucked, with his long hair tied back in a loose plait, fly-aways wisping around his head like mist. Alec walked straight up to him as the vampire opened his arms, flung his own arms around Sebastien’s neck, and hugged him.

“All done?” Sebastien asked without pulling back.

He nodded and popped back down from his toes. They were both tall men, but Sebastien had a few inches on him still. With a slightly doe-eyed expression, Sebastien smiled and kissed him gently. “I love you,” he said softly between kisses.

“Come on, you big sap,” Alec said. “I’ve got to be out of my apartment at four.”

“Such a romantic,” Sebastien sighed melodramatically.

With Sebastien’s supernatural strength, loading up the little van they’d hired for his stuff didn’t take long, and after giving his keys back to the landlord and signing the final bits and bobs, they were on the road.

The old farmhouse had been a find of Sebastien’s, and it needed some work. “Well, what else am I going to do on long, impossibly sunny summer days while you’re running your own business from the little art studio at the bottom of the garden?” Sebastien had laughed when they’d first viewed it, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead in a terribly ‘put upon’ gesture. “I might as well spruce the place up.”

“It needs more than a light ‘sprucing up’,” Alec had said, brows raised at the rotten wooden beam and the tired 1950’s kitchen. “And don’t tell me you made your wealth flipping houses back in the day.”

“Would you rather I told you I robbed the Bank of England and they still haven’t noticed?” he replied archly before planting a kiss squarely on Alec’s scratchy, stubble-darkened cheek.

With a scowl, Alec had shot him a look. “I honestly don’t know whether that’s a lie or not…”

“It’s a lie,” Sebastien snorted. “I can’t believe you think I’m a criminal.”

“You’re a vampire,” he’d retorted. “You could probably have just walked in there and demanded a small fortune in gold ingots and they wouldn’t have objected…”

“Please. I do have some scruples. And besides, I only use my charms on poor, miserable artists to get into their pants…”

“And their hearts too, apparently,” he’d scoffed as they’d left the dilapidated house with Sebastien’s hand in Alec’s back pocket, fingers firmly cupped around his arse.

It took another six months for the work to be completed, and even with Sebastien’s not inconsiderable talents in the DIY and home improvement departments, they still had to call in a team of builders to fix the pointing in one wall and to sort out a few other structural issues. But by the end of the work, the farmhouse was quite frankly the most stunning place Alec could ever have dreamed of living. Exposed oak beams and a fireplace big enough to park a tractor in were only half of the best features of the place.

One clear, frosty evening in late October, the pair sat outside on the recently finished patio, a small cast iron fire-pit crackling away and sending sparks and heat twisting up into the night sky, a glass of wine each in one hand and their free hand clasped around the other’s.

“Bastien…?” Alec said, not taking his eyes from the mother-of-pearl points of light in the sky above.

“Mmm?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about… about becoming your source.” He didn’t miss the sharp inhale from his partner, nor the way Sebastien went completely still in the wooden chair beside him. He also didn’t say anything. “I’d… I’d like to ask how often you’d need to feed from me, and… what the repercussions would be for me as the human…”

Still Sebastien didn’t speak for a long time, and Alec worried he’d spoilt the serenity of their evening with the sensitive question. Finally, the vampire cleared his throat and Alec realised with a jolt that he was near tears.

“Bast?”

At the sound of the pet-name, Sebastien blinked rapidly and two mirroring tears tracked down his cheeks in perfect synchrony. “I thought you’d forgotten all about it,” he said in a hoarse croak. “I didn’t want to bring it up again.”

“You should have done, silly,” Alec groused, and he was met with a watery smile that didn’t meet his eyes at all.

“Well, to answer your questions,” he said, trying to sound unaffected even if he clearly was. “Every three months is safe enough, so long as you take an iron supplement. If you don’t, you might feel a little more tired right afterwards. We generally take slightly less than a person would give at a blood donation, if that helps put it into context.”

Alec turned and frowned at him.

“What?”

“You’ve gone all clinical,” he said, shuffling a little and setting his wine glass down on the edge of the stone fire pit. “Do you not want this anymore?”

Sebastien swallowed thickly and looked away. In the ochre and copper flicker of the flames before them, his suddenly red eyes seemed to glow like coals. “More than you know…” he rasped.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before turning back to face Alec with glassy eyes. “I’m frightened.”

Alec’s scowl deepened and he rose from his chair to straddle and sink down into Sebastien’s lap. Settled in his new position, he kissed Bast’s lips and stroked his loose, white-blond hair out of his eyes. “Of what?”

“Losing control. It’s been… decades since… If I hurt you, Alec… it would break me.”

“How about we start small? Just a taste?”

Sebastien looked so young then in the firelight. He suddenly looked like the twenty year old man he had been when he’d been conscripted into the army and sent out to battle to die, only to be turned at the eleventh hour by a nurse in a field hospital who’d seen something special in him. Thank god she had, Alec mused.

Alec leaned back a little and brought his index finger slowly to Sebastien’s lips. The vampire swallowed, red gaze drifting down to watch its approach before looking back at Alec’s face, searching, questioning, doubting.

Alec nodded and slid his fingertip a few millimetres into Sebastien’s mouth. The vampire inhaled, closed his eyes, and then opened his mouth properly. Alec brought the pad of his fingertip to the underside of his right canine, and pressed.

After a moment, the pressure gave way and a prick of pain like a needle pierced his skin. A bead of blood welled there instantly and he withdrew to let it swell. Sebastien clearly smelled the blood because his pupils dilated and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Easy,” Alec said. “It’s only a drop.” And with that, he turned his finger over and held it above the tip of Sebastien’s tongue.

Paralysed in a heartbeat of terror, Sebastien sat rigid, frozen, wide eyed, but Alec lowered his finger to meet the slight roughness of his tongue, and Sebastien’s eyes rolled. He moaned and let his tongue play across the tiny pinprick wound, fingers digging into Alec’s hips. The tiny wound had already stopped bleeding, but he sucked gently, drawing a little taste more. Then he released Alec and stared at him, a look of stunned awe on his beautiful face.

“How was that?” Alec asked, briefly thumbing a fond arc across Sebastien’s cheekbone before dropping his hand.

“Manageable,” Sebastien murmured.

“Ok, I have to ask, do I taste good?”

The tense spell that encapsulated both of them broke and Sebastien cracked a smile, fangs and all. “Yes,” he rasped.

“So… I can become your source?”

“If you wish it, yes. You can withdraw the honour at any time. I won’t hold you to it.”

“Good to know,” he said, only half laughing. A moment later, he said, “When… When do you want to start… you know… properly. Formally?”

Sebastien’s eyes had drifted to the rabbiting pulse in his neck.

“Now?” he asked. “It’s only been a few weeks since you went to the blood bank though…”

“That’s…” he said, hands finding Alec’s waist and holding him gently. “That probably works in my favour this time. Are you sure you want this?”

“To be ‘yours’ on your terms as well as mine? Of course,” he smiled, and watched as another tear rolled down his perfect olive cheek. He tilted his head to one side, feeling a little sheepish, and said in barely a whisper, “Whenever you like.”

“Really? Now?” Sebastien hissed, chest suddenly heaving. “Just like that?”

Alec laughed quietly. “It’s not as if we’ve just met. I know you, Bast. I trust you. I wouldn’t offer this to just any old vampire, you know?”

Unable to stop the smile from twisting his lips, Sebastien finally relented with a nod. “Alright. But not here. You’re going to want to be more comfortable.”

“But I’m already comfortable here,” he whined playfully, wiggling his hips in Sebastien’s lap, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan.

With a roll of his red eyes, Sebastien sighed. “Stubborn arse,” he grumbled without sting.

“You love my arse.”

“Yes, you’re right. I do,” he said.

Tenderly he ran his thumb down the line of Alec’s carotid and inhaled deeply. “I love you,” he whispered. And then he leaned close. He took his time kissing Alec’s neck until he was gasping and rocking his hips against Sebastien.

“Please…”

“Last chance,” Sebastien said against the skin of his throat.

Alec shook his head. “I want this. I’m yours.”

So the vampire sank his fangs into the artery. After the initial surprise and sting, Alec’s whole body lit up as the venom hit his bloodstream, and he bucked into Sebastien who held him still with what should have been frightening ease. There was no fear behind the gesture, only longing and love and sweet, aching, rolling, unending pleasure.

“Oh fuck,” Alec moaned, going limp in his arms as Sebastien began to feed, withdrawing his fangs to draw more deeply on him while he held him easily in his arms. The vampire moaned, lips locked against his skin so as not to spill anything. The motion of his throat suddenly fascinated Alec as he swallowed down his own life-force, but before he could raise his hand to touch fingertips to his Adam’s apple, pleasure exploded in his mind and he forgot everything.

When he came back to himself, he was inside, lying on their bed, with a small, soft dressing over his neck, and Sebastien sitting quietly on the bed beside him, staring down at him and holding his hand. As he blinked his eyes, he frowned. “What…?”

“It’s intense the first time,” Sebastien murmured fondly. “I did say you’d want to be somewhere more comfortable.”

“ S’perfect,” he slurred. “Fuck me…” he added, more curse than command.

“Maybe later, hmm?” Sebastien smiled. There was a flush to his cheeks that Alec had never seen before, and a brightness to his eyes.

“C’mere,” Alec said, patting the bed beside him. With Sebastien lying silently next to him, Alec rolled over and hooked one leg over Bast’s thigh. “Love you,” he mumbled, sinking into a deep and exhausted sleep, even as Sebastien’s hand came up to cradle his head.

The vampire smiled, kissing his forehead. “I love you too.”

___

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kidlawhalloweenevent · 3 years

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What will we do?

We are doing a Fest! Participants will choose their three favourite options between thirty prompts related to KidLaw and Halloween (see below). After the signs-up are done, each participant will be given their own personal prompt to create whatever piece of art they wish for. Collaborations between participants will be possible, but it won’t be compulsory.

What do I have to create?

The pieces would have to be related to KidLaw as a ship and explore the prompt you are given. You are allowed to create more than one thing, combine them, or play along in collaborations.

For writers: A 2,5k piece would be the minimum requirement. Stories should be completed and must not be part of a sequel or series. The prompt and ship should be the main focus of the story.

For Artist: At least one cleaned up sketch in black and white. The prompt and ship should be easy to understand or be seen.

Others: videos, gifs, moodboars, playlist, and other forms of art shall be discussed with the moderators.

Why should I participate?

Fandom events serves to promote your work and allow you to reach a bigger audience you might not be able to reach on your own. It allows you to meet new people with similar interest and make friends. They also take you out of your comfort zone so you can create art pieces you might not have considered before, and it lets you improve as an artist. Think of this as a way to challenge yourself!

Schedule:

- August 24: Sign Ups Open. (Follow this account )

- September 10: Signs up close (12 am UTC+1)

- September 10-12: Prompts and collaborations assignation.

- October: 15: Check in (Drop ups contact sooner).

- October 31-1 November: Post in.

What to do now?

Consider your schedule, what you will be able to do in these two months and start checking the prompts to pick favourites. Follow this account for updates and reblog the event in as many platforms as you can!

Good Luck!

#kidlaw #kiddlaw #lawkid #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #kid #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #law #one piece #halloween event #キドロ

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profoundnet · 4 years

Photo

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR AUGUST 2020!

Masterpost below the cut.

DragonSgotenks - DragonSgotenks

Getting to Know You (E, 9.1k)

When picking up his new company assigned laptop to work from home Castiel Novak meets IT tech Dean Winchester, who's a little flirty and a lot drop dead gorgeous. After Dean gives Castiel his phone number Castiel calls for help with his computer and Dean, well, Dean is VERY helpful.

Tags: TopCastiel/bottomDean, strangers to lovers, condoms, anal sex, meet-cute

one_more_offbeat_anthem - @one-more-offbeat-anthem - one_more_offbeat_anthem

A Barely Functioning Adult’s Guide to Beekeeping (T, 10.7k)

Dean Winchester and Cas Devereaux, seniors, are roommates and best friends. Cas is the president of the beekeeping club, and he eventually cajoles Dean into coming to a couple meetings. Meanwhile, Dean is struggling with his relationship with his estranged father, whether or not he’ll get to graduate, and the fact that he’s maybe, kinda-sorta, almost definitely in love with Cas. Pair those things with his lack of confidence, a sudden road trip home to Kansas, a nosy creative writing professor, and the fact that he might be drinking too much—Dean’s a wreck who believes he has no future. But he might be wrong.

Tags: College AU, First Kiss, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, the Impala, Angst and Fluff

Lovemuppet - @haybibiboi - lovemuppet

15x03 Where’s your head at? (T, 979 words)

Prompt: take a sad scene and try to make it sadder. 15x03: the breakup

Tags: angst, episode related

kitmistry - @kitmistry - Kitmistry

Stumble and Fall (E, 42k)

Castiel was raised to do one thing: serve his country, whether that was fighting a war or becoming an expert spy. But when his lover is charged with treason and executed Castiel defects. He has evidence that can destroy the KGB’s entire spy ring in New Mexico, he has names of scientists involved with atomic weapons who send information to the Soviets, and he won’t stop until he has revenge. Putting all his trust in the Americans, Castiel finds himself under the protection of U.S. Marshal Dean Winchester, who is too cocky and attractive for his own good, but at least seems to know what he’s doing. When a routine transfer to a safehouse goes horribly wrong, Castiel and Dean narrowly escape with their lives. With the Marshals compromised and Castiel being framed for murder, he and Dean are on the run from KGB and law enforcement alike. They have no one to trust except each other, and nowhere to go that their enemies can’t reach.

Tags: Cold War AU, Soviet Spy Castiel, US Marshal Dean Winchester, Enemies to Lovers, Suspense

latter-alice - @latter-alice - Latter-alice

pressing the issue (M, 2.2k)

"So," Dean shifts closer, "what's the big one?" It's obvious, and he isn't stupid. There's only one reason to ask this now. To press the issue. His answer is short, to the point. "You." The night before they leave to fight Chuck, Cas and Dean keep each other company.

Tags: First Kiss, Confessions, Cas is stressed

Sweet Insanity (G, 709 words)

"So," Dean draws the word out as he gives Cas a once over. "Did it hurt?" End of series fluff

Tags: fluff, first kiss

Maleyah - @maleyah-givemetomorrow

“Dean” (SFW)

A Cas drawn for Ineffable Impala's DTIYS. Sparked a companion piece Dean.

Tags: Destiel, Mobster!Cas, DTIYS submission

“Heya Cas” (NSFW)

Companion Dean, who may or may not be praying to Cas, while he's busy.

Tags: Destiel, DTIYS submission

Kait - @kingbirdkathy - kait

Don’t leave me (SFW-ish)

"Don't leave me.“

Tags: things that Dean can never say out loud, hint of butt

reverse destiel (SFW)

reverse destiel DIY, original by gabester_sketch.

Tags: Hunter Cas, Angel Dean

smut time (NSFW)

just some smut

Tags: bottom dean, riding

MandalaRose - @a-mandala-rose - MandalaRose

The Shots You Don’t Take (E, 57k)

Still nursing the tatters of a broken heart and trying desperately to stave off the terror of his impending graduation, college senior Cas Novak decides it’s time to blow off a little steam. Not just any hook-up will do, however. The last thing Cas needs right now is a distraction. On the lookout for someone he can enjoy a steamy night of passion with before leaving them behind entirely, Cas thinks he’s found exactly what he needs in cocky university hockey star and well-known playboy Dean Winchester. Dean is gorgeous, doesn’t date, and is the singular most infuriating person Cas has ever met. He’s the perfect one night stand...that is, until Dean decides he wants an instant replay of what was supposed to be a one-time event. Will Cas’ offer of friends, sans benefits, convince the arrogant love ’em and leave ’em hockey defenseman to find an easier score? Or will Dean wear down Cas’ defenses and lure the sexy nerd in the dorky trenchcoat back to his bed?

Tags: Hockey AU, College AU, Hate to Love, One Night Stands, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Injury/Hospital, Briefly described (non-graphic) violence, Panic Attack, Fake/Pretend Relationship, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

nickelkeep - @nickelkeep - nickelkeep

Sometimes You’re the Sea (M, 10.2k)

When a freak storm overtakes the Lebanon, and Dean is knocked overboard, he's considered lost at sea. That is, until Dean wakes up onshore, with the bluest eyes he had ever seen watching over him. In a matter of days, Dean's world is turned upside down. He's falling in love with the man who saved him. A stranger appears, demanding his hand in marriage. And Dean's pretty sure that bird just called him a Dumbass.

Tags: AU - 1700s, AU - Fantasy, AU - Creatureverse, Sailor!Dean, Cecaelia!Cas, Dean POV, Little Mermaid Elements

Dog Days are Over (M, 7.8k)

It was cold. Dean shivered and reached for a blanket before snapping awake. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't at home. For fuck's sake, Dean was still shifted. He whimpered, hating how pathetic he sounded, and tried to push himself up onto all fours. As Dean tried to put weight on his front left leg, he yelped out in pain and fell back onto the cage’s cold metal floor. He was either at the shelter or at the Vet. And he was so screwed.

Tags: AU - Modern, AU - Creatures Exist, Animal Shifter!Dean, Animal Injury, Hurt!Dean, Hurt/Comfort

FriendofCarlotta - @friendofcarlotta - FriendofCarlotta

A Fear of Falling (E, 40k)

After his partner’s tragic death, Dean Winchester resigns from San Francisco PD to work as a private investigator. Dean’s first case is a make-or-break opportunity: tailing the youngest brother of powerful shipping magnate Nick Novak. Castiel Novak, estranged from his family by choice, lives a quiet life 30 miles north of the city. His lonely but peaceful existence comes to a rapid end when he’s drawn into a plot to fake his brother’s death. As Dean and Castiel’s paths cross and they grow closer, the noose of a dangerous conspiracy tightens around them. Will they discover the truth before it’s too late?

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Private Investigator Dean Winchester, Accountant Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Discussions of Past Suicide, Discussions of Past Drug Abuse, Minor Character Death, Inspired by Vertigo (1958), Acrophobia, Angst with a Happy Ending

Stranger Things Do Happen (T, 852 words)

Dean invites Cas to experience the human ritual of watching horror movies to get ready for Halloween. Cas soon realizes that watching scary movies with Dean may come with unexpected... opportunities.

Tags: Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Movie Nights in the Dean Cave, Getting Together, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Gratuitous References to 70s and 80s Horror Movies

Ahurston - ahurston

Yarrow, Lilac, and Foxglove (E, 10.4k)

Dean, Cas, and the magical garden down the road.

Tags: Fluff but give it feelings, domesticity, post-season 15, explicit sexual content, established relationship

allmystars - @allmystars-i - allmystars

Feels Like Nothing (G, 700 words)

Newly Human Castiel feels the weight of human existence for the first time. Dean is there to get him through.

Tags: Canon Universe, Human Castiel, Depressed Castiel, Supportive Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Holding Hands, Hopeful Ending

sketching-fox - @sketching-fox

The Black Trenchcoat (SFW)

Artworks done for the fic “The Black Trenchcoat”, written by spnsmile in our partnership on spncanonbigbang!

Tags: winged cas, kisses, fic art. Accompanied by fic by @spnsmile.

Endellion - Endellion

If Tomorrow Never Comes (E, 1.4k)

Dean promised Cas wouldn't die a virgin and he's going to keep his promise.

Tags: Bottom Dean, Top Castiel, anal sex, anal fingering

What We Want and What We Need (E, 1.3k)

Cas is angry, Dean is sorry. They go to the bar's bathroom to work it out.

Tags: Angry sex, Top Dean, Bottom Castiel, anal sex, spit as lube

writerposer - @writerposer - writerposer

Croat-Ville (E, 27k)

When Castiel stumbles into the Winchester's survivor camp, one of the few safe havens left after the Croatoan virus ravaged the earth, he had thought he lost everything. What he found there, who he found, would change his life, and maybe the world.

Tags: Endverse, Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, Time Skip

Destielshipper4Cas - @destielshipper4cas - Destielshipper4Cas

Fake Bite, Real Love (M, 2.7k)

To show his ex that he has moved on, Cas wants to fake a claiming bite on his neck. Painting it on doesn’t work, but luckily, his best friend and long-term crush Dean steps up to the task. Keeping a lid on his feelings is getting difficult, however, when the alpha is nibbling on his mating gland.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Best Friends, Idiots in Love, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean

Shadowkat83 - Shadowkat83

Drowning in Guilt (T, 4k)

Bot Prompt: Dean is having another slice of pizza; Cas is polishing his angel blade; Sam is at the library Summary: When Sam discovers a case of people drowning after leaving the local bar. They head to check it out, what they didn't expect was to lose Dean to the creature. Now Cas and Sam need to find Dean before its too late.

Tags: monster of the week, angst, flirting, jealously, hurt Dean, feeling realization, two parts, confession of feelings

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

A Thousand Lies (E, 73k)

Dean Winchester is the best con artist in the continental US. Conscripted into the life after a stupid mistake as a teenager, he works for a man only known as the Lightbringer. He specializes in the marriage con, tricking his marks into falling in love with him and bolting after the honeymoon with everything they own. But the morning before his meticulously planned meet-cute with his newest assignment, he runs into an adorably clueless accountant named Cas in a coffee shop, and Dean’s entire view on life implodes.

Tags: con artist Dean Winchester, accountant Castiel, mutual pining, slow burn, Dean Winchester has self-worth issues, minor Dean/Crowley, angst with a happy ending

andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting - andimeantittosting

Honour Undressed (E, 15.3k)

Among his friends, Castiel, Lord Milton is everyone’s confidant and, along with his trusted valet, the fixer of problems. But there is one secret Castiel has never shared: he is in love with his valet and has been for years. Born in the gutters, Dean Winchester was assigned as Castiel’s batman in the war, and when Castiel travelled home to take up his title, Dean followed him as his valet. To assist Castiel, Dean is not above a little burglary or blackmail. But the one thing he wants for himself is Castiel’s heart. When Castiel’s closest friends become the target of a blackmailer, certain truths come out. But while Dean determines to seduce Castiel, Castiel is adamant that he must resist, for if there is one rule a gentleman must follow, it is never to dally with his servant.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Class Differences, Blackmail, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending

starprincecas - @starprincecas - cuddlesandcas

Tell All The Truth, But Tell It Slant (T, 35k)

A cursed object gets touched, truths start coming out, and emotions reluctantly with them.

Tags: Canon Divergent - Post Season 8, Truth Spell, Bunker Fic, Human!Castiel, Drama, Humor

ArielAquarial - ArielAquarial

Hidden in the Sand (G, 5.4k)

Dean tries to drive down to Palo Alto as often as he can to spend quality time with Sam. This time, things are different. Not only is he secretly apartment hunting only a city away, but he's finally getting the chance to fish on the beach instead of a rickety old pier. Despite Sam's warning about stingrays, Dean insists everything will be fine and heads into the water without a care. What could go wrong?

Tags: Fluff, Cockblock Sam Winchester, Brotherly Bonding, Day At The Beach, Vacation, First Meetings, Flirting, Alternate Universe, Lifeguard Castiel (Supernatural)

spnsmile - @spnsmile - spnsmile

Destiel Prompt August Collection 2020 (G, 29k)

Collection of short Destiel stories prompt of August writer's month 2020

Tags: Romance, AU, fluff, established Castiel/Dean, First Meet, Cute-Meet, Profound Bond, Idiots in Love, Boys Kissing, Soul Mate

SKID (E, 24k)

Dean Winchester swore off love after getting dumped and fired from his job the same day. Badly drunk, he ended up balcony-hopping until a pair of hands snatched him inside a darkened room. But it's no hero, it's someone with deep voice whispering threats with a gun pointed at his back. Dean’s too drunk to deal with life but one good look at his hot assailant plus enough beer sold him to his accursed fate. The next morning, he found himself engaged to the most notorious leader of a powerful clan, Castiel Novak. Married life in the compound for a month was not as blissful so when he could, Dean fought for that freedom. Castiel relented and as Dean tried to put the pieces of his normal life together, getting a bike messenger job and dealing with pain in the ass clients, he now also needs to deal with the dangerous presence of his very jealous and very protective husband watching over him. Is his life ever going to get back to normal?

Tags: Alternate Universe-Gangster, MAFIA, Arranged Marriage, Romance, Hate/Love, Protectiveness, Established Relationship, Domestics, Hurt and Comfort, True love

Black Trenchcoat (E, 23k)

When Dean found out Castiel was working with Crowley to open Purgatory, he had no choice but to leave the angel in the ring of fire with nothing less than a broken heart. But instead of plotting against his friend, Dean takes a literal sense of fire vs fire. He decides to kill Castiel with love. Or that story where Dean convinces Castiel to look into their future to see if Castiel's plan against Raphael succeeds, only to find the world in chaos and an angel donning a black trenchcoat emerges to take Dean away.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Romance, Time Travel, Protectiveness, Possessive Castiel, season 6, Profound Bond, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, Wings, Kissing. Accompanied by art by @sketching-fox.

#profound monthly masterpost #august masterpost #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #member fic #member art

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comradesalazar · 3 years

Text

2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works

I will admit I got a lil Emotional that I got tagged in this but I’m so excited to go through it because this year has been SO PRODUCTIVE for me when it comes to writing. Thank you to the legend @that0negayslytherin for tagging me and the other legends, you the real MVP (and also thanks again for setting up the LV fic discord bc that place... really b Wild and really b a wonderful place to motivate each other to be our best.) Legends only!!

Anyhway! Onto this thing... I’m excited.

[rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!]

So. Most of my works from this year have been Venji related because I’m still in the deep pit of Love, Victor obsession and idk when that’ll go away. Hopefully not anytime soon because I’m having a great time and fic was an amazing way for me to improve my craft. I do have one piece of original work on this list, but the rest is fic. It’s difficult to choose favorites so I think I’ll go chronologically. A couple of these have graphics but not all of them. Anyway... let’s get into this, shall we.

Arakhne of the Floating Mountain

So this the first work I completed this year. It’s an original novella I wrote for Wattpad’s Open Novella Contest and it’s a very fun, character-centric story that reimagines Arakhne/Arachne (the one from the legend who gets turned into a spider after challenging Athena) as a lonely lesbian who lives alone on, you guessed it, a palace on a mountain in the sky, until three sisters drop by asking for her to create their coronation dresses for when they become the queens of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. The sisters (Soledad, Luna and Estelle) basically try to court her and it’s a good time. Obviously, I didn’t win the competition but it was still a really fun story for me to write and part of my journey of realizing I can create a writing habit and work on something over the course of a long time, since the only other completed long work I had was for NaNo, which was just binge-writing over 30 days before I had the chance to get bored. If you’re into magical lesbians, check it out!

The stars will love me even if you don’t

I have so much to say about this work. I started it just on a whim in August after I watched Love, Victor in July and began wanting to actually contribute to the works of fandom. Little did I know that I would be embarking on a journey of 120k words and counting, with 33 chapters. This story deals with a whole random of issues -- from long-distance relationships, substance abuse, mental health problems especially around anxiety and depression/suicidality, toxic relationships, codependency, self-harm, the project of becoming oneself and being able to manage life and navigate the world in a healthy way, all the things. In a lot of ways, it is a personal project. But also in a lot of ways I wanted to correct a lot of ideas we have about what constitutes a healthy relationship and what love should look like. There were many times when I wanted to give up on this project due to frustration and exhaustion, but I continued to work at it. I learned so much about my own capabilities, about developing a writing habit, and about what it’s like to write a behemoth of a story. It isn’t perfect by any means but I appreciate the people who have reached out to me and told me that they learned some things about themselves from reading. This is truly a labor of love and I can see that it already accomplished the goal I set for myself which was to help people. It’s lit. And thank you so much to @callmevenji for the lovely cover!! She’s a legend!!

The Thousand-Eyed Wraith (TTEW)

This was a little one-shot I wrote for the Halloween Venji Fic Fest and it takes place in the world of my original work, The Thousand-Eyed Crow. Basically, it’s about what would happen if Venji ended up in that world and had to deal with some spooky nonsense and eventually ended up joining a cult. It was fun for me because it was more stream of consciousness and post-modernist, which is very different to how I normally write but it was a really fun experiment tbh.

You Only Live Forever (YOLF)

This was another one-shot I wrote for the Fic Fest, but this one was much smuttier and mature than TTEW. I was really inspired by Beyonce’s “Partition” (the song and the video lmao) and thought it would be interesting to put Venji in a world similar to Greendale in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina but with s*x magic, so it was essentially a Love, Victor and CAOS cross-over for grownups lol. Apparently it worked out well, though, and they ended up trying to summon Satan which went... questionably. But I had a lot of fun writing this, as well, especially when it came to sorta balancing the old-timey setting with the modern day and the smutty scenes with the softer, fluffier ones.

Part of Your World

So one day I had an idea to write a Little Mermaid-inspired Venji story that would be so sweet and romantic... And so I did. I took a lot of inspiration from several sources -- one, of course, was the Disney version of the Little Mermaid, as well as the original version which is a lot darker and more sinister, as well as mythology around sirens and selkies and just, I guess like, class warfare. So I ended up with a sorta more adult-version of the Little Mermaid where Benji gets attacked by humans and is distrustful of them until he meets Victor who is “not like other humans” and helps patch him up, and they embark on a bit of a whirlwind romance. This has been a treat to work on even though it’s probably one of my least popular fics because I imagine people are coming for something a bit more light-hearted but I’m incapable of writing something that is 100% fun and not chock full of imagery and meaning. I think this has also been the work that showcased and tested my imagery-writing and dialogue-writing abilities the most and brought out my inner poet. And once again a huge thank you to @callmevenji for the fanart, if you haven’t already followed her you should bc she’s a legend.

Dead Men Feed the Fish

Finally, my last and most recent work is also the story I worked on for NaNoWriMo this year. 63,000 words completed in less than a month, depicting the initial meeting of Venji and the way their romance develops and deepens over time. It’s just (chef’s kiss). I had originally had the idea for pirate!Venji and really wanted to write it because I was inspired by That One Scene in Pirates of the Caribbean, which is probably one of the most romantic scenes I’ve ever seen and between the only het pairing I stan. So I just had to write a story that included this scene and that allowed me to write my dream scenario of Venji out on the open seas being gay and having a good time and going on adventures and having homoerotic sword fights. This story has basically everything -- romance, action, adventure, magic/fantasy, a lil bit of spice/kink, good communication, tension, cute animals, everyone is gay, what’s not to love. I’m also looking to edit and publish traditionally so I’m in the process of fixing all that up now. And once again, thank you to @callmevenji for the brilliant fanart!

Anyway, that was that, and I hope that if you have the time and you get the chance, that you give some of my works a shot because I would be very grateful and I think you will have fun.

I’ll tag @kateis-cakeis, @g531, and I guess anyone else who wants to do this!

#long post #writing #fanfiction #love victor #venji #author #my writing #gay literature

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manypersons · 3 years

Text

Things I’ve Always Wanted to Do

So in 2019, it started up a list of “Things I’ve Always Wanted to Do” and I think it really reflects who I am as a person. “Notes” are there to provide an update I guess. I hope you enjoy.

Explore an abandoned shopping mall

Expand my library substantially

Cliff dive

Learn to play piano professionally

Make a piece of art I can be proud of

Sing my heart out

Live in a small house

Read by the light of a fire

Smell incense often

Sharpen all my pencils to perfection

Spend and entire day writing (note: have done this)

Tour Europe

Get all the German shepherds I want

Collect clocks

Bake something spontaneous but delicious

Wear nerdy/dorky t-shirts daily (note: has been achieved)

Watch musicals

Buy those books from my childhood that I miss

Complete a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle in one day

Grow a garden

Live in Washington

Paint a sunrise

Collect cute mugs to drink hot chocolate from

Sleep with a cat in my bed (note: it’s been years :(...)

Paint a random piece of furniture for fun

Watch and finish a TV show in one sitting

Bake and eat two dozen cookies by myself

Gel pens, a whole of gel pens

Get a Harry Potter costume and not just for Halloween (note: you’ll love my costume this year

Go to Comicon, at least once

Watch all my favorite bands live

Publish a book (note: I’m working on it Mom!)

Find love (note:....still nothing)

Live with someone interesting for a month

Videogame binge

Rewrite old stories I wrote when I was younger (note: actually....that’s the novel I’m working on right now....I did it ya’ll)

Try new and exotic food

Separate trash and recycling, even for a short time

Volunteer (or take a job) at a zoo

Give a speech in a public setting (note: I usually give to a room of about ten people)

STUFFED ANIMALS WILL ALWAYS BE COOL

Make lasagna from scratch

Random DIY

Learn to make Italian Delight from memory

Finish something I’d left undone for a while

Splurge on hardcover books

Get a job I’m happy to wake up every morning for

Spend the day in a retirement home for no reason

Speak my mind (note: trust me I do)

Eat a block of cheese like it’s an apple, there’s no law against it

Fake an illness to get out of doing something

SHOUT. Just SCREAM to the world.

Meet somebody different

Watch movies, a whole lot of them

Not be afraid to write in sharpie (note: this was ironic because the list itself was written in sharpie)

Hike to nowhere in particular

Make quirky jewelry I’ll never wear

Stay in bed, it’s okay to be lazy

Get along without electricity for a week

Appreciate the little things

Rescue an animal (any animal, anyway)

Scented pine cones

Live in an attic

Sit on a roof

Buy people presents for seemingly no reason

Roadtrip, but we don't want to murder each other at the end

Sing LOUDLY to the radio

Buy a tub of icing just to eat it

write somthing really tiny

THEN WRITE IT BIG!

Be like Cheyenne

Dye my hair

Have a good time with someone

Be in a parade (note: I actually have plans to be in a parade tomorrow, I'll update you all)

Move furniture randomly

Let an elderly person teach me a lesson

Prank somebody (but don't hurt them)

Learn to write in different fonts

Spend the day in a bookstore, but not but anything

Know that it's okay to be broke and to struggle

Walk someplace instead of drive

Travel to the Galapagos

Pet a wolf (note: I've since done this, I'll save the story, because it's wild..........I just wrote it, here's the post: https://manypersons.tumblr.com/post/633529760164839424/i-just-remembered-that-i-promised-yall-the-story)

Have mismatched dishes, but a neat set of silverware

Buy crisp new jeans

Visit all 50 states (note: so far I've only got 11)

Learn new languages (note: got a 5 on my AP Spanish test last year and my biliteracy seal, but I would not say I'm fluent)

Fill a wall with a map of the world, preferably hand paintedwith

Make my own

Grow my nails out really long

Write a poem (note: I've done this, I guess?)

Try to learn to carve wood

Visit the set for Twilight before it's torn down

Spend the night under the stars

A big black truck

Order that cool thing I saw on tv

Get a meaningful tattoo

Write my own song

Make a friend that is just as it even weirder than me

Forget the rules, even if it's just for a short while

Revisit all those places I remember

Crosstitch something amazing

Always smell like lavender

Make a piece of art using glitter

Be forever frustrated because that glitter won't come out of my carpet

Throw a party and invite no one

Make flashcards for something not school related

Get better at using pastels

Live in Alaska

Visit a local bakery

Be EXTRA, all day, every day

Visit all my last teachers

Be myself, even if people don't like the real me

Write movies for Universal

Swap lives with someone for a day

Study abroad

Own a whole bunch of yellow pencils—to touch, to smell, and to write with

It's "thank you for your apology", not "it's okay"

Just be happy, as often as my brain will allow!

Wow a feel like a just handed over a big chunk of myself. Please use this wisely and more that this list is definitely subject to change.

#me #things I've always wanted to do #wow personal

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thestudyfeels · 5 years

Text

How To NOT Be Depressed.

(Or If You Prefer — How to Be Substantially Happy About Life.)

WARNING: This is one rollercoaster ride of a post. Proceed with extreme caution. For some, the staggering levels of insight may induce true purpose and re-establish their warrior spirit. For others, side effects may include grammatically incorrect hate or aloof eyerolls. We advise exiting if the said group includes you, for we're very tired of cleaning vomit off the seats.

Step aboard at your own risk.

If you’re one of the brave souls who stayed back to join us, I congratulate you for even I am scared of how crazy this post truly is. Alrighty then, kick back and relax folks, today we’re having a mature, adult conversation. Merely another cheery afternoon spent talking about life and its realities. Not too bad, eh?

Before we begin, spoiler alert! For those of you already turned off by the mention of 'depression’ and packing their bunnies to leave, sit tight. This ISN'T really about depression. This is about HAPPINESS. No clickbait. That got your attention, right butterfly? Nice, now stay.

A welcoming, maybe demanding A/N: Do me a favor and read this in one go. Maybe even plug in those headphones and listen to the songs dedicated to each part as you read. It's long, you have the new Riverdale episode to catch up on, but don't hop away just yet because (I had a couple moments writing this, alright) it's life changing. You'll prolly cry a few tears of realization, nod all nod-able body parts in agreement, beat your chest at random instants 'cause the hype’s too real, and perhaps, if it isn’t too much to hope for, finally go change your life for the better. In case you've forgotten, this'll remind you that there’s always hope, that you're a born conqueror, and you were made to THRIVE, not survive. Convinced? Kay, roll the cams.

To clarify first-hand, no, I'm not depressed although I’ve experienced mild depression for a period before. Glad to say I'm out of it but I still struggle with tackling what I'm about to detail next.

Insert bitter voice, it’s this: My life is nowhere near I want it to be. Though I know vaguely what I wanna do, I haven't yet figured out how the hell I’m supposed to get there, or how my dream life is to be sketched out. It’s all a blurry mess. Which, to put it bluntly, hurts. I HATE feeling powerless and worthless, roaming about aimlessly.

There are many such moments where I hit the brakes to wonder why I’m not living THE Life already. There have been several times when I curl up and cry a frickin’ Amazon. There are horrible nights where I'm shaking with emotions, but they won't release, leaving me choked. (…not in that way, you hoes. Um, just ruined the dramatic mood with a lame dirty joke, sorry.)

They say talking helps and that's why I figured I'd drop in. But perhaps more importantly, I wanted to hang because no matter how unfocused the lens may seem at my future, I don't consider myself a dopey loser incapable of the crazy dreams or wild bucket lists I fantasize about– and I thought I'd skip along to remind you that neither should you. (Or maybe I just came to sniff the new appetizers, who knows?)

PS: I also broke a sweat listing six ways to get outta depression– alternatively, to be more of a conqueror– because y'all are always pestering me with asks that go “how do I conquer omg send supplies” (Like, imagine a conqueror saying that! Oh, the crime, the atrocity!)

So yes, you're welcome. Have a feast with this litness.

The main reason behind people being so frightfully sad, I’ve found, is a huge lack of fulfillment. We don't do what we love, for either— [ 1 ] we aren’t living life the way we want to (since we keep doing things we feel we're supposed to do) OR [ 2 ] because Mama, Papa and Mrs. Carter next door feel that struggling is the only way, and project their traditional beliefs onto us. Either way, whether or not we consciously realize this, subconsciously, we're all hurting because of it. Badly.

That lingering feeling of emptiness never seems to leave. You feel drained every night when you drop into bed, not because you gave it your all, but because you couldn't. And so, we do the next best thing. Drugs. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. We numb out this subconscious pain by binge watching Netflix shows. We deaden ourselves to that discomfort by reading smut in the bathroom or by playing dumb video games all day. We try (and fail) to extinguish this feeling of not ‘being enough’ by having silly flings or fake friendships.

And ultimately, we NUMB ourselves out to LIFE for we can't bear to live the way we're living. There's a reason why “How to Stop Procrastinating” posts are so popular (they’re a blogger’s most foolproof way of paying the month’s rent, and yes, even I'm guilty of a couple). We’re constantly having FOMO and tuning into others' highlights on social media– completely missing out on our own lives in the process. We fail to realize that the culprit is lack of genuine purpose more than zero self-control (or maybe it’s both, but that’s a tale for another day).

[On a side note, obviously I did generalize a bit– video games can be a passion for you, watching shows a way of winding down. But for most, they’re only DISTRACTIONS, just another way of ignoring the calls of life by hanging up the phone.]

And here's the bitter truth about depression: The longer you wait to start living authentically, the more you start tuning out the inner cries wanting change, the faster your dreams start to ebb away, and the more you'll want to become insignificant. And to me, that's the scariest part of this journey to my dream life.

Nothing frightens me more than knowing that the moment I stop pushing, the very moment I give in to distractions and fears, my goals will stop manifesting themselves and I'll be stuck in this small town with its small people eternally. And THAT, I'm certain, won't be any more fun than working your way through a soggy ham sandwich, ironic as soggy is what life has become. (Yes, I have a thing against soggy sandwiches. They were a kid's worst lunch nightmare.)

If you relate, and I’m sure you do (it’s probably why you stopped scrolling through cheesy fanfic for ten minutes to read this, I know you amigo) — here are six ways to NOT be depressed. Or more accurately, to gift wrap yourself some sweet ol’ happiness.

You're a Samurai and the Following Be Your Katanas —

Hol’ up. The second you reach the End Card, I want you to drop your Cheerios and implement at least THREE of these six strategies. Just follow the Takeaways, I've made this really simple. And as a rule, one of them has to be this one. (Look, don't whine. If you wanna climb outta that dark hole, you gotta put in some effort. So pop that booty, and let’s get down to business!)

Here’s the most truthful, though cheesy thing I’ll ever say: I would be nowhere I am today without this blog. If not for it, I would most likely be weeping in a dug-out hole somewhere, drowning in my salty little pond of tears and chiming every loser’s favorite words (“there's no point”). Creating this blog gave me a definite purpose – putting out fiery content, dipping myself deep into my newly found passion for writing and influencing, and connecting with other conquerors on the platform.

I meet a lot of folks, whether at Sad School, Mouldy Mall, or Boring Bus stop, who always seem to be in a state of death-inducing boredom. When asked about their favorite thing to do, they’ll mumble “sleep” or “food” like Siri narrating your cat’s evening routine. And then you see adults, dragging through life mindlessly. Utterly clueless, floating like a piece of driftwood in an ocean bubbling with life. My sympathy quota gets overdosed everytime I think about it.

To spell it out, find something to do. Anything! Learn a language, try some ballet, take pictures of your neighbor's rose garden, make an art piece and show it to your mom, stitch buttons onto shirts for fun, heck, make an entire shirt out of buttons, take a break from reading smut to write your own, frutify your farts, WHATEVER, just get up and move.

And here’s why – nay, not to keep you engaged or make you feel less worthless, not that bullcrap. It’s to put in gear the journey of figuring out what is the shite that you love doing. Too often we get stuck thinking about what our oh-so-great passion is. Get this, passion is energy. A spark for something. A magical fortune cookie which, when cracked, seems to explain everything, gives you the very reason for being alive. You can only feel that fire, that wild love, when you actually do it. So get cracking is all I’ll say!

Takeaway:

Attempt something. Nah, scratch that, imagine you’re in a sweet shop with shelves lined with free samples and try everything. Pick up that Polaroid cam, take that dreaded history course, buy that children’s cooking kit– in short, start working. Pull out all the stops, get curious, and get creative. In the process, if you promise to try hard enough, you WILL (money back guarantee) find out what makes your little heart burst with mad happiness and would willingly do for free, if needed, because you really are that crazy about it. And that, my dear, will be your oh-so-great-indeed passion. Have no doubt, you’ll never be “bored” again.

Real talk, having a dream is a big deal. And unfortunately, I’ve witnessed, rarely anyone has one to begin with. They’re either more dead than the cheap skeleton I bought for Halloween or believe they have a dream, but in reality, it belongs to mom, dad, or Uncle Sammy. Listen, doing something for someone you love (my Uncle Sammy used to supply me with cold cash whenever he came around, loved that guy) is great! YET, if you’re willing to throw away your life to fulfill others’ expectations, convincing yourself it's because they love you, even when YOUR lonely heart craves bigger things than just a marketing job, then you, my friend? Are the biggest fool. Don’t get offended, we both know it, this girl needn't ramble.

Recently, my relatives were over (nope, sadly not Uncle Sammy) and my cousin and I had a chat about life (correct, I grab every opportunity to do so). It wasn't very exciting I must say, he kept staring off into the distance (I wonder why), but what he SAID is what I'll talk about. After I’d gushed about my dreams, he asked skeptically if being an influencer would still be an ambition two years from now when I graduate. I raised my eyebrows, mock hurt, like eff you son, I ain’t giving up on my dreams! But that question got me thinking.

Life is wild. Unpredictable. An unexpected call, a single person, a random BLOG POST (cough) – can turn your life upside down, sometimes in the affirmative, other times not. This variability of life isn’t uncommon, and everyone experiences some part of it– unpaid student loans, failing startups, talent and art going unnoticed in industries dominated by wealth and connections, you name it. If all of that doesn’t make you run for the Himalayas and abandon any dreams, throw in a quick side dish of dysfunctionale famiglia with a sprinkle of self-image issues.

It ain’t easy, darling. The world is one cruel headmistress; it loves slapping awake the daydreamers and wishful thinkers. That hasn't ever actually stopped the dropouts and class clowns from building castles in the air though. And the common blueprint you notice they follow? Let me introduce you to… Madness. Obsession. Maniacal obsession, to say. (Yes, I'm done playing with my words.)

I struggled writing this point. A pestering voice in my head kept mumbling – They'll go back to doing the same sad shit anyway. Um, does anyone even read your posts? Lol, call yourself an influencer, hun. Hesitation started creeping in. Then the irony of the situation struck me. I laughed, shook my head and got back to typing.

We ran out of juicy gossip weeks ago, so here’s your tea served cold: insecurities and self doubt WILL get in the way. That whiny voice was just a mild version of what you face when you go all in. Fear traps you in its cage, and those who prattled behind your back now progress to talking shit in your face. Criticism and self doubt resurfaces, so unless your defenses are strong, you'll be crushed. Destroyed REAL quick.

When hell breaks loose (oh honey, and it WILL), your self defense comprising of maniacal obsession must be well learnt. Let them attack, mock, heck, drag you away from the desk and hurl you at the top of a damn mountain, but you better STILL hike back down, show them the middle finger, and continue working. That's how bulletproof you've gotta be. That's how madly do you have to love your dreams. And if you really think this will be a cake walk or want to continue complaining about Stuart being born with a silver spoon, hop off the train already. Your destination isn't on the tour list.

Look, my dreams terrify me. But they certainly make me feel more alive than complying with what every parent said about getting good grades and holding together a roof on my head. My ambitions set me free, give me a reason to fucking live. And yet, every now and then, something makes me question them. A fear engulfs me, some doubter proclaims I suck, someone I love is so blinded they can't see my vision. And that's okay. My defenses are way stronger. The next day rolls round, and you'll find me hustling again, thriving again. All because I know that even if no one reads my posts (the worst case scenario, I know y'all love me lol), someday in the future, someone will. I know that even if I’m not an influencer yet, if just one reader becomes a conqueror because of my words, it would be a win. A big win. I'd have done my job. All because I’m wildly, yes maniacally, obsessed with my dreams.

So hey, cousin? This influencer thing? This will be my dream long after I've graduated. Till the day I die, and maybe even then I'll rise from my grave to give a dead pal a lively pep talk. My watchtower has just been upgraded, so thank u, next.

Takeaway:

“General, we've arrived!” Finally! Position those cannons, Martha, let’s talk them through the defenses. All aboard? AHOY MATEY! (wait, that was one for the pirates). Step one, dare to create a dream in your mind’s eye. The bigger, the crazier, and the scarier, the better. Doesn’t matter how impossible it is, don’t care how many voice their opinion against it, just imagine, keep a million possibilities in mind.

Once you see the life you truly want (you’ll know, everything will seem to zing)— have a sip. Become OBSESSED for that life. Thirst after that vision, itch to manifest it, and pine for the satisfaction that’ll come to your soul once it’s made a reality. Fall madly in love with the process and how magical it feel when you do it. And THEN, bellow a loud war cry and charge headfirst into battle, shields held high at all the criticisms. We conquerors never cared much for them anyway.

(play ♬) Picture this: forehead stamped with beads of sweat. Calloused hands working their fingers to the bone and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Conjure an image where powerful beats are pulsing hard in your ears, synced with your own elevated heartbeats, and you’re thriving. Performing. Winning. Guess the secret to that? Preparation. Champions prepare. You can’t throw anything to the winds or rely on ‘luck’ or chance to conquer.

Tough days are in everyone’s calendar, be it your extra cheerful neighbor, Sally, or lone wolf classmate, Derrick. We’ve all found ourselves sulking over an awful situation, scooping into mint ice cream to forget mistakes, errands, and ghosting exes. Yet guess what? The solution isn’t the proclaimed “be positive!” or “It all happens for a reason, don’t you worry” - the key is coming up with a method to dodge the discouraging effect these hiccups have on us.

So every bad day, I bring out a mason jar containing a knot of chits and one secret letter which is, on most days, kept hidden on the top shelf of my cupboard. I make myself comfortable on the bed, read all my bits of paper carefully, including the letter addressed to yours truly, close my eyes, and mentally fight back whatever’s bringing me down.

A short while later, I get up, now a warrior, and go slay the rest of the day like it was my last one on this planet. That jar is my jar. A Conqueror’s jar. One look at those powerful reminders, and I’m grounded once again, the beast within me now unleashed to kill.

Takeaway:

Honey, go get yourself a jar. Along with some papyrus and ink. Then start jotting down. Document past victories, future visions, fears that mean zilch to the person you’re about to become, batty goals you’ve still gotta chase, reminders that the majority will never understand what it is you’re tryna do here, and how that’s perfectly alright 'cause you'll find your conquerors, your squad one day. Create your victory jar. And then go knock ‘em down dead. Bad days stand no chance against you. You’re a winner, a fucking rebel. Go take what’s yours.

Y’know, I’m perfectly aware that many muggles reading this will whine that dealing with depression ain’t no piece o’ pie and it’s hella hard to get up and take the crown when you feel like a pile of dino dung.

Stop it. Get some help. (See what I did? Like Michael- ok ok, calm thyself.) For real though, and I’m tired of repeating this with my kitten stamped microphone (but I’ll keep at it ‘cause it’s that significant) – whining is WORTHLESS. It saps up precious energy that could be used to make life a scrumptious smoothie. (Loothie? As in life + smoothie? Right, yes, I’m shutting up.)

And even THEN, we find denizens complaining about slow WiFis and thin crust pizzas and how the market’s down and the government’s incompetent. Because blabbering makes us feel important. Heard. But keeping yo’ trap shut and actually doing stuff? Hustling for your dreams when nobody’s watching? Actually walking the talk? C’mon, Emma, don't be naive, ain’t nobody getting recognition for that.

Trust me, I get it. The world is yet to become a feminist, turns out your boyfriend was cheating on you while you were looking up wedding dresses, mommy’s a drunk loser, and idiots are being voted into office. It’s a lot to handle. But thanks to our immense and ever increasing population (we folks really love our rumpy pumpy, can you tell) — there will surely be one chum, facing exactly the same misfortunes as you, but still turning up at every party and bulk-spamming his friends with puppy pictures while you sit and wail. (One Moaning Myrtle is enough, thank you very much.)

Look, I’m not undermining your worries or obstacles. I’m only reminding that you have the marvelous choice of positivity. To CHOOSE hope and a better future when others won't. To FIND (and it's always possible) something to look forward to even when the to-do’s a big snore. To KNOW, deep inside, that you're a magnificent conqueror, no matter what mess you’re in at the moment, and that the world dances to your rhythm. Realise that it's up to you to let yourself be happy. At any moment, you have the very say-so to get up and start rocking. Dumbledore said it himself, “It is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” So choose better, and you’ll unconsciously do better as well. And yes, that being said, this is the last HP reference, don't fret. Be positive instead. (Edit: Ha, look at these quips, the girl's all grown up now.)

Takeaway:

Your new occupation is to be a sunflower. If you think back, you'll probably recall Miss Honey rattling on about phototropic movement in AP biology. No? Me neither. Point is, sunflowers always face the sun. Put them ANYWHERE, hide them in the dungeons, throw them in a trash bag and shoot it off to the moon, they’ll still turn around and face the sun. No matter what. And taking inspo from that, you too can stop scripting creative soliloquies for being depressed. Happiness is YOUR right, YOUR priority, don't let anyone take it away from you or diminish its importance. DON’T let sadness ruin your vibe, do what you've gotta do to protect yourself. Track happiness in yo’ journal, set 84 reminders on your phone, and tattoo “Long as you’re beaming up at the sun, all the shadows will be left behind” on your boobs. Do whatever, just don’t turn the corners of your mouth down. You’re so pretty this way.

The other day, I was doing the deathly Plié Alternative Heel Lifts (these names, I swear) and my legs felt dead. Gone. Put to sleep like the Wicked Witch of the East. Now obviously, the timer wasn’t not even halfway done yet, but my cheeks were already flushing red like dear Santa, and NOT because I was high on choco chip cookies. I sighed, and at that point, I was so over giving up. All this while, I’d been whining and protesting because my muscles felt sore, but in that moment, I made up my mind. I bit my lip and kept going. On and on. Keep pulsing, you got it, don't stop, was the mantra I kept chanting.

Won’t sugarcoat it, I honestly hadn’t died this much since that time Miss Honey buried me alive with trig assignments. My legs were now basically Play-doh and I was shaking, fighting for balance. A few seconds in though, something crazy happened. My legs went numb. My grumbling mind quietened and the pain vanished. That evening, I had the upper hand, not my physical perceptions of myself. I was powerful. Flawless. (Hey Santa, do you even lift bro?) Real talk, I was in the Zone, bitches.

I’m not sure if that was the result of excessive pain or because Wonder Woman’s spirit possessed ma bod, but staying loyal to my love for metaphors, I’ll use the experience to explain what I’m tryna get at here.

Look, here’s the real deal — if all of the greats gave up the second things got frowny, we probably would have no one to worship. Nix role models, nix inspirations, none to stalk on Insta - we’d all be bumbling about like Sad from the even sadder Emoji movie (no shade, emojis be lit).

And that'd be very sad (pun definitely intended). Hence, cue some tangible ways to boosting your grit, so that you can be your own superhero:

1) Get yo’self a goddamn motto,

2) Know your “Why,”

3) Repeat the cycle till it’s in your blood. Btw, Shawn, if you here, I’m still a single pringl—HEY PAL I SEE YOU, DON'T SCROLL.

Seriously, don't brush these prime steps aside. We're always going for the advanced modes, and deeming these basic levels a waste of time. Well guess what, compadre, YOUR LIFE IS A GODDAMN WASTE O’ TIME IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR BASICS RIGHT. Excuse my outburst, but listen. You can’t do a hundred bicep curls on your first workout if you haven't lifted anything more than a crisps packet. Likewise, if you simply jump into Life one day, and decide “ok, here it is, 12 habits to build, sleep schedule to fix, man to ask out, let's go,” you ain't getting nowhere, chum. Start small. Take baby steps. It's clearly not as fun (definitely negates the bragging on Facebook part of it) but it'll stick. You’ll create a consistency that not even Grandma's cake batter can achieve.

1. Talking mottos — For context, a motto that I always mutter (my mom thinks I'm cursing, oh what a bad child) every time I spill milk while making coffee is “Do more. Give more. BE more.” Not only does it help me stay right on track for the rest of the day but it helps me clean up my mess, figuratively and otherwise, or I’d just be sitting in a puddle of spilt milk, cursing adulting for real this time and with more laundry to do.

2. Why you need the Big Why — Owning up, I’m guilty of attempting to learn Welsh for less than 48 hours because I hadn't a single reason to speak the language. A similar thing happened with half of my 2018 resolutions, which had a bunch of rubbish like “Floss daily”, something my eyes got trained to skip because, um, who the hell flosses every day?

Lame humor aside, I still workout almost daily because I have my Why straight. 1) I want to feel good about my body and get closer to the confident badass I envision my future self to be, 2) I simply HAVE to sustain my health to live to build my legacy and fulfill my dreams of opening a bakery at 90 and 3) Because I’m an influencer, and want to walk my talk and be the inspiration people need. Those are the reasons as to why I turn up to my yoga mat everyday, shut my jabbering mind, and keep on pulsing. This “Why” strategy applies to everything. Wanna get outta depression? Why? Wanna lose 20 pounds? Why? Wanna listen to your dentist’s desperate pleadings and floss already? WHY EH? Unless you know your intentions, you’ll give up at the first chance you get to not act on your goals. And watch out, because there'll be a LOT of those.

For me, leaving a legacy behind means more than having a slice of cake or missing a workout because there’s a fun movie playing. Find what's important to YOU, make it your why, and go marry your goals.

3. And then, Repeat — Bear in mind, if you're not living your best life yet, there are NO weekends. NO work-shy days. No weak days, no pick-me-up days, no eat-candy-do-nothing days. Everyday is a damn Monday. EVERYDAY is life or death. Every holy day you wake up is a chance to push your limits, challenge your mindset, and see how far you can go. And every 24 hours, when the cycle starts again, it’s your mission to race to build a stronger, wiser and crazier you.

And who knows, perhaps one day, you and I will just be casually sipping tea in our dream home, laughing at how the milk is still being spilt but knowing, proudly, fiercely, that we’ve come so far, even though there’s still more left to do, more to give and so much more to be.

Takeaway:

Quit quitting. You're, guaranteed, 20x stronger than you think. I doubted I could go through with the workout, it seemed beyond my present physical capabilities. But I did, because I treated it as life or death. Understand this, the second you start making excuses, for being depressed, for taking an unnecessary day off - you give away your power. You are a very powerful being. You're limitless, capable of everything.

I'm not throwing these words around to make you feel cute, I actually mean AND believe them. There’s so much that's been done already— the iconic four minute mile by Roger Bannister, invention of the light bulb, cars, toothpaste and other junk, people who lost both legs and climbed Mt. Everest, we sent a man to moon in frickin’ 1969 (50 YEARS ago), some ran a 26 mile marathon with zero training, love and hope is still strong in this world, oh let's also add coffee and motivational music— and YOU think you can't finish a workout or get outta depression or meet your idols or marry the man of your dreams or become the artist you wanna be? Ridiculous. Don't give away your power that easily, this ain't no charity shop.

(play ♬) Having personally dealt with unwelcome yet familiar feelings of emptiness quite often, I’ve now reached a point where each bad day is simply a reminder of how long my journey ahead is, and just how badly I want to reach my destination.

We finally near the end of this novel of a post (thanks for sticking around, bud), and my best advice would be this: Rather than wallowing in self pity and throwing one-man parties because your life is so awfully dreadful, know that even when life throws you to the floor, long as you can look up, long as you can read an entire book about defeating depression (cough)– you can GET UP too. Let those emotions of sorrow and frustration blaze up into a roaring, crackling fire that doesn’t consume you, but instead, urges you, fuels you.

Lately, no matter how much shit I go through, how many arguments I tumble into, or how barren my dreams look sometimes, I don’t break down. And no, it wasn't always like this. I never even had aspirations to name two years ago. Six months back, it had become a night routine to cry. Not anymore.

Now, every setback and every failure only pushes me to be stronger and give more than I ever gave. The day I made the decision to Conquer (truly, madly, deeply, with all of my heart) was also the day I said a big, loud ‘fuck you’ to every resistance that was to cross my path. I had finally understood that life was nothing but a battle of WILLS, that it was all in or nothing, and I made up my mind once and for all to NEVER give in to depression, or to society, or to anyone who tells me I cannot make it.

I had conquered depression. There was no looking back now.

Takeaway:

Here’s something no one will tell you: the key to bringing depression to its knees is seeing it positively. Pretend that it's a friend continuously sending strong, aggressive signals urging you to be happy. And what do you do when a caring friend throws some holy light? You listen, push past your ego, and follow accordingly.

And if that parallel seems unconvincing, here's another one (sup, DJ Khaled. This post is turning musical, sorry): it's scared of you. Depression is scared shit of you. Y'know how bullies are, right? Majorly insecure, self-loathing too perhaps, hardly fans of self love, and always trying to numb all that subconscious pain by inflicting pain on others. Depression has the same instruction manual. Your fears and doubts are your (pathetic) bullies, and depression is the big ol’ crony who does the dirty work for 'em.

Whenever you decide shit this is it, I'm going for it, they go paranoid and try stopping you because they've seen no better. And if they succeed, BOOM, you're depressed, paralyzed, your qualms reigning over you again. Don't let them in. I'll say it a thousand times if I gotta because I want (HAVE) to see you conquer – you're so much stronger than you think you are. You can do so much more than you think. It's all in your head! Don't just sit there, click away, and go back to living a sad life. You’re better than that. DO better than that. You’re meant to freaking CONQUER, straight-up dominate, my pal. Pay heed to that voice craving freedom. You got this. And you better know it.

One thing’s fixed like the (beloved by all) proportionality constants in Physics, you will come across depressing mornings and sluggish evenings even in the future. I assure you. Lots o’ bad hair days in the calendar, sis. But here's what you’ll do: you'll deactivate the miserable thoughts, keep a cool head, remind yourself that this is yet another test (better, rap your new mantra) and USE that hurt, pain, and anger to create a fervor and passion that wreaks havoc on its obstacles and drives you to accomplish EVERYTHING you've ever wanted to do. The easy choice would be to just give up, bellyache about the situation, and want sympathy for your worries. Yet, what you'll never do is… exactly that.

Rule 1) NEVER give up. Stand your ground. Have faith in your strength. Know that you'll have your way soon enough anyway. Rule 2) NEVER complain. All it does is drain your energy, that precious fire you could to high jump your way into the clouds. Makes you a pathetic wimp too, definitely not something you want on a warrior’s resume. Lastly, Rule 3) NEVER seek validation. From anyone. It sure feels nice to be acknowledged and encouraged, but grasp this— this is your journey. YOUR life and YOUR vision. Validation won't get you anywhere, for there'll never be enough of it.

Cuz Marty, if you're tryna bring something new, different, and authentic into this world – you'll most likely be hated on badly, before you'll be loved madly (hi, me a rapper). Learn to invite hate instead—IMPORTANT: hate from others, not yourself. Sounds counterintuitive, but this is the real tea: hate is good. It means you're standing up for something, refusing to fit like a puzzle piece in society, and being UNAPOLOGETICALLY yourself. And it’s certainly a sign that you’re on the right path if you can ignore that hate and stick your tongue out at it.

Yet another reason to never seek validation is simply this: you have to fight for yourself. In order to meet your own expectations, reach the doorstep of the best version of you, and transform this world, you'll have to go wildly IN. Toil and hammer away. Shut out all the haters and non-believers, listening only to your gut. Importantly, learn to accept the rejection slips, validating yourself not with what Molly says about it being okay, but with the reminder that your time is coming soon. Depend on yourself. Validation will NEVER be enough.

I get it, it's a lot of homework, but perhaps you already realize that it’s THIS work that'll change your life forever. Not “how to not procrastinate, Jesus take the wheel” or “HELLO, life's a mess so here are ten things to do (you won't believe number four!)”. Clickbaits don't work, stop believing that a fancy planner is going to be your savior. There is no rule to making your life a masterpiece. You'll have to get to know yourself and your dreams (journaling, meditation, silent pondering), build the work ethics and the mentality needed (lots of work in this one, yet no strict framework to go about it) and GET GOING.

AND with that firework, I'll begin to slip away now. Again, I won’t say it’s easy, that’s cock and bull. Life’s no fairytale. You will never feel ready to start bringing your dreams to fruition. But, my darling (I’m being so nice yo, follow me), you must. You must force yourself to work for the future you want till it becomes a habit, an obsession. The world badly needs heroes; confident people who can stand for themselves so that others can stare at first, maybe even hate a little, but then follow because they seem unstoppable and are, truthfully, having the most fun at life. YOU'RE one of them. No validation, just plain facts.

You see, conquering is a LOT of blood and sweat (K-pop, anyone? BTS? Lmao, this is me tryna clickbait y'all to read). Even getting up will seem huge when you're just starting out, and this is one long road, dear pal. Still then, I have enough faith in you to hope you don't give into your fears, I hope you willingly chase discomfort, and I hope you find the courage to do all that you want to do, while that heart's still beating.

I hope you conquer. I'll do too, and I'd really like to see some familiar faces during the ride.

Peace, amigo.

A loud ass A/N: And now, we come the most important part of this post. WAKE UP Luke, stop snoring, and take some notes. Remember kids, I won't accept anything but an A.

If you couldn’t identify yourself throughout this post and currently are scoffing like um woman, that's not really why I'm depressed, hang in there a sec. Yes, you can stop singing It Ain’t Me now. You've a very nice voice by the way.

I'm not a doctor, and I don't have enough exposure to know why so many earthlings are depressed today. HOWEVER, by talking to many, following their stories, watching and reading stuff – I do know with firm conviction that a majority suffers from severe unfulfillment. Don't believe me? A study shows 85% of the working class worldwide hate their jobs. Do you realize what that actually means? EIGHTY-FIVE PERCENT of the THREE BILLION PEOPLE employed today, hate being employed in the first place! They do it for prime survival, to sustain themselves. And that's just jobs. I won't scare you, but 50% (yes, HALF, you heard that right) of students HATE going to school. Kids waste SEVEN hours of their life every day going somewhere they dislike, doing something they hate. Who's singing now?

People find themselves trapped in golden handcuffs, taking the paycheck despite the passionless job. They push aside the art and business they love, to become a slave of good ol’ cash. Several surround themselves with negativity and get frustrated when unable to escape the choking (no, not THAT kind again, hello someone pour holy water over this post) atmosphere. An innumerable are forced into taking up courses that they don't care about under parental pressure. The reasons are endless, and I don't think I'll amuse myself listing all the sad excuses.

This has always been the story. Hundreds of influencers have preached the same words I’m tryna put into your head here and you’ll yourself say you’ve heard this a million times. YET, you’re dissatisfied. YET, you feel like crap everyday, feeding yourself the same lie that the next day will be better, that you’ll get up tomorrow– while you let life beat the shit out of you.

That’s why, all of my words, everything you’ve read today - all of that boils down to just one single question. A difficult but necessary choice. Will you let this happen to YOU? Will you, seriously, even after this wild ride together, go back to doing nothing and being nothing? Will you, for real, continue deceiving yourself, sacrifice your happiness for the sake of pleasing everyone else, and remain a statistic on a website?

(play ♬) If you’re not sure of your answer, read: Look, making you feel guilty is not my intention, because that’s not how this works. I need you to understand instead. Guilt wears off, it’s only understanding that brings about change. So, just for old times’ sake, I’ll rant a bit more (ik, just can’t seem to leave y’all).

You’re so, so young right now. More than half of your life is yet to be experienced. None of this probably makes much impact right now but it will the day you die. Remember, on your deathbed, you won't EVER look back and say, “Damn, wish I'd spent more time at the office. Saved up just one more dollar. Could’ve got that promotion before Amy.” Nay, it won’t even be on the calendar. That day, one foot in the grave, you'll reflect and wonder why the heck you didn’t let yourself be happier. Why you took up that lacklustre, soul-sucking architect job when all you've ever wanted to do is keep laughing. Why you didn't ask your crush out, why you were so afraid to walk up to that audition, because dammit, you could’ve been running your own comedy show by now. Why you dragged around a karaoke machine all this time instead of singing your own song. Why you couldn’t love yourself. Why you submitted. Why.

And the moment you realize that you hadn't lived a life for you, you’ll be crushed. Broken. The arthritis in your grannie joints won't even compare and neither will the mild dissatisfaction you’re feeling right now. Those whys will haunt you, they'll terrorize you, break you. It'll hurt tremendously to know that there isn't a single thing in your long life that you could call completely your own.

With every death today so many dreams are left unachieved, crazy things left unchecked on the bucket list, and unique potential left unexpressed.

DON'T let that be you. Please. I'm still a mess myself, struggling to reach class on time and studying subjects that aren't exactly fun, when all I want to do is create content (read: fireworks) that is at a level of insanity, influence folks to do better, hold crazy world tours and meet-and-greets to give hugs, and get an adorable puppy so I can create a dogstagram (yes, I'm that mom). Sure, I could declare it's too hard, hang onto small-minded and negative people who whine endlessly, and follow the crowd, getting lost in it, with ease.

But I won’t because I can’t take the burden of those regrets. That painful unrest and discontent that nothing could cure, not drugs, alcohol, buddies, not even true love. For then I’d be just another drone, my controller in the hands of society, forcing me to see the world through its eyes. I can’t give in because I’m scared, terrified even, of wasting away this one life doing the bidding of others- folks who won't even notice when I’m gone.

It’s easy to be depressed and crib your entire life. It’s easy to think you’re worthless and that trying is pointless since nothing ever goes your way.

But perhaps, if you rise, if you simply DECIDE to have the audacity to fight for what you believe in, if you work and focus on becoming better, things will go your way. Life will bend to you, in awe, at your incredible relentlessness. Life will take one look at you, wonder who the fuck is this person? How the fuck are they so incapable of giving up? And back right away. And then perhaps, life will be such a blast for you that depression would become the past you never had.

I know you can get there, conqueror. It’s time you knew it too.

🌚🌝 Further reading? 🌝🌚

Last Post :— How To Get Back Into The Creative Process – For you, if you're in a creative rut. Get outta it and go create magic!

5 Reasons Why You're Unhappy — To help you identify & cut out CURRENT sources of sadness so that you can spice up yo’ life with some happiness instead. Definitely recommend reading AND implementing.

The Bubble Trap & How To Get Out Of It — One of my classics. Everyone is in one of these 'bubbles’ till they consciously do something about it; that's just how it is. Are you still in one? (Someone teach me marketing, lmao.)

The 5 Biggest Regrets of The Dying (from Greatist) — I LOVED reading this. Pretty much all you need to cut the crap and do meaningful stuff. Read it, memorize it, work it.

++ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box! I'll get back to you with a reply, along with the average time I'll need to birth that magical idea.

Thanks for dropping by! It was a pleasure to have you around. If you wish to stick for a bit, I'd suggest picking one of the related posts mentioned above.

If you wanna check out my blog, here's a little something about me (y'all know I love the attention). What do I write about? Three arenas I dominate, Work, Lifestyle and Life, they are, my mate! Take your pick!

I post new blog posts bi-weekly, and my wins, & journal entries throughout the week, so follow me if you're into conquering life, leaving a legacy and being the baddest badass you can possibly be. I'll be your side pal, cheering you along.✨

And that was it, it's a wrap! Martha, shut the cams, Henry, pause the audio, and Nandita, I know you're pretending to be deaf, but Mom's yelling something about doing the dishes. Better skip along.

And you, fellow conqueror? Keep slaying life, doing the work and making it count. I hope you're well, stay strong and go conquer life. ✧

I'm sending you so much love, see you soon.

— Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

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thelohunter · 4 years

Text

I used to write when I was drinking.

I used to write when I was drinking. After I’d had two or three beers and was feeling the sparkle in the air. The euphoria of the beginning of being drunk. I wrote arguably lovely pieces of text with abandon. Most, I kept private, but sometimes - I released them to the internet and let the people on the other side of the screens do with them what they would. I didn’t worry too much about publishing whatever I wanted thanks to the confidence that comes with a couple drinks. Today, I’m writing sober. I’ve been thinking about publishing this post for over a week, debating the pros and cons of being vulnerable on the internet. I just - right now - looked at myself in the mirror and felt like for the first time in a very long time, I looked back at me. So I opened this post again. This time, to publish it. With the encouragement and support of my doctor and loved ones, I am choosing to be brave, hold myself accountable, and share a bit of my story with you.

I have been drinking for fourteen years, and it has never been a casual thing for me. I fell in love with it the moment that curdled cocktail of a-little-bit-of-everything-in-my-friend’s-parent’s-liquor-cabinet-including-the-Bailey’s touched my lips. It made me feel powerful. It made me feel giddy. It made me feel like I could do anything I wanted. It connected me to my peers and was something to relate upon with strangers. It eased my anxieties and made me forget about stress. I enjoyed and abused all of these wonderful side effects… that is, until the next day. The day after drinking, I would wake up reluctantly and immediately feel like dying. Not only due to the physical hangover, which would happen occasionally, but the emotional hangover I experienced was much more debilitating. My social anxiety was what was pounding in my head. My severe depression and lack of motivation for life was what would keep me in bed. I can’t tell you how many times I have contemplated suicide after a night of drinking. And it makes sense! Science has told us time and time again, alcohol is a depressant. When I was in this horrible state of darkness and emotional pain, what was the only thing that I knew (at the time) that would bring me out of it? Obviously, more alcohol. After all, the cure to a hangover is “hair of the dog.” More alcohol. For at least twelve years, I have been living a vicious cycle of drinking, then drinking more to ease the effects of drinking, then drinking the next day to ease that, and again the next day to ease that and that and that on top of that. It became habitual in my day-to-day life. A beer while I cooked, a couple beers with dinner, a few casual beers with friends that turned into going in on a bottle of tequila and drinking the entire thing in a couple hours. I became dependent on every drink I had, needing it to not only function in social settings but to purely even survive. To keep the depression and the suicidal thoughts at bay. Until the next morning, when I could drink enough again to push them deep enough to not see them for one more day. I realized that this all was becoming a problem and an unhealthy lifestyle when my partner participated in “Sober October” a couple months back. He wasn’t drinking, so I drank even more. I realized how hard it would be for me to NOT drink for one month like he was doing. How would I go out and do anything? I told him I wanted to cut back on the drinking and moderate myself better. That lasted about two days. Then it was Halloween. Surely, it’s okay to cheat and drink on a holiday like Halloween! I got wasted. The next day I woke up and sure enough - felt like dying. The hangover was so awful physically and emotionally that for probably the twentieth time in my life I said outloud “I’m never drinking again.” It has been one month and three weeks. Every day I feel more clear and more sure that this is the right thing for me to be doing right now. I can’t promise forever, yet, or that I won’t have a glass of champagne on a special occasion in the future. But for now, sobriety is the way I’m going to save my own life. It comes with many challenges. I feel bored and lonely sometimes, missing my old way of life. One thing was for sure - it kept things interesting. For better or worse. I hope to be able to be out and about, at parties, and Art Walks, and concerts, and bachelorettes, and feel like I’m authentically myself. Having fun, dancing, being wild if I want to be, but just without the alcohol. I am happy to say that I've been dipping my toe in, and the water is a lot less scary every day. It would make things easier if alcohol weren’t literally everywhere. It’s like breaking up with your long term partner who you truly loved and you had a passionate relationship with… and then they become a viral sensation overnight and their face and voice is on every billboard and Netflix series, they make appearances at every event, they’re your next door neighbor, and all your friends have cute, little tiny versions of them inside their fridges, like The Borrowers. And they’re so cute because they’re so small and you just want to be friends so badly but you can’t because there’s too much history. Since I have decided to be without alcoholic beverages, I have seen a drastic improvement in the way I look, how I sleep, my cognitive skills, my confidence in myself, and my overall happiness and outlook on life. Not to mention my relationships. I am a better friend, I am a better partner, I am a better family member. I’ve taken my own selfish need to drink out of the equation, which has left me with space and patience in my heart, allowing me to be more considerate of others. I’m grateful that I woke up and realized what I needed to do and that it’s been relatively easy to make a change. I know that isn’t the story for everyone and I feel for them. It’s a hard thing to give up. All that needed to happen for this change to manifest itself was that I needed to make the decision myself. I know I haven’t been sober for years and that I’m relatively new to this whole thing, and I know I don’t have all the answers or wisdom. Not at all. I just wanted to share my story with you in hopes that it would lead to better friendships and relationships in general. I want to be honest and open about this, because it is a big change for me and it's important to find support. Also, I thought of the people along the way that have inspired me and lead me to this change, and I wanted to thank them and give back. One of the people who got me thinking and wanting to do things differently was Demi Appleby. Demi, you are an incredible artist and an inspiration. Thank you for being brave and sharing your own story for the world to see. It has been resonating with me for quite some time now. I’m happy I can tell you that.

I appreciate any support I get from sharing my vulnerability with you, and know that I don’t judge anyone for partaking in the consumption of alcohol. I just personally had a complicated relationship with it, one that for now, is best left untouched.

#sober #sobersquad #soberlife #sobriety #alcoholfree

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sophtopus · 5 years

Text

Okay many people have not read Toby’s Long Tweet about Delta Rune

http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sqn3p9 See that URL? It’s the official link. Here is the full transcript copy pasted from the Tweet. I won’t put it under readmore because people tend to scroll past that. Past the break line is Toby’s own words. Deltarune is it’s own world. It’s NOT related to Undertale. This is exactly what he said in point 1 of his post. It’s also something he had worked for 7 years (earliest file was 2012). This game was more difficult to make compared to Undertale. Toby also doesn’t know when he’ll ever finish Deltatune. That’s why he released this demo to share with us. I cannot stress how important it is to be patient with the artist/author and let them do whatever they want. If Toby wants to create something new, LET HIM! Trust the Dog that he’ll make something interesting! Repeat TLDR: Deltarune is NOT Undertale!!! No matter how many similarities they have, they are NOT the same. Insisting that it’s the same will just rob you of enjoyment. It’s all in the first question. Scroll down for the rest of the transcript.

Here are my thoughts on Ch 1 of Deltarune. This should answer some questions.

It's October 4th. The DEMO (first chapter) of my game is supposed to come out on Halloween. Actually it was done a little while ago but I'm waiting for the translation to be finished. I feel like I should address what I think people will think before the game comes out. Of course, if I'm all wrong about this, then I just wasted my time, but... QUESTIONS I PREDICT PEOPLE HAVE 1. "Is this a sequel? What's going on?? I'm scared..." Please don't worry too much about that. Actually, I'm worried if people worry too much about "what it is," they might not be able to properly enjoy it... (laugh) I will say that basically, what you're seeing here is not the world of UNDERTALE. UNDERTALE's world and ending are the same as however you left them. If everyone was happy in your ending, the people in the UNDERTALE world will still be happy. So, please don't worry about those characters, and that world. It will remain untouched. To rephrase that, DELTARUNE's world is a different one. With different characters, that have lived different lives. A whole new story will happen... I don't know what you call this kind of game. It's just a game you can play after you complete UNDERTALE, if you want to. That's all. 2. "I have questions I want to ask about the story..." There's a lot of questions I'd like to answer, too. That's why I have to make the game. Please wait until then. 3. "When will the next chapter come out?" This is a difficult question. When I made the demo of UNDERTALE, I made it to prove to myself that it was possible to make a whole game alone (with some help with the art). Because I was able to make it in a few months, I felt that I had proved that it was possible. However, making the demo of DELTARUNE... took a few years. So, given the length of the rest of the game, and how long I'd be willing to spend on a project (7 years maximum) I think the answer is that it's actually impossible to make this game. Lots of things make this game harder to make than the last time. - The graphics are much more complicated and don't play to my strengths (black and white battle graphics were easy...) - The battle system is much more complicated due to multiple characters (I'll write about this later) - The overworld and other sections are more complicated due to multiple characters - Having multiple main characters is much harder to write especially introducing everyone properly in chapter 1 - The entire town had to be created correctly on the first try to set up properly for the rest of the game And further things outside of those: - Trouble starting tasks/concentrating and general difficulty paying attention - Travelling / other responsibilities like translation/ports - Self-doubt / burnout regarding the creation of the game Essentially it's not possible to make this game as one person (and Temmie). However, it MIGHT be possible to create the game if I'm able to make a team. So I'm going to try making a team. Because I really want to make this. But I may not be able to succeed because I have no experience successfully directing a team and I have no idea who I'm going to work with. Since I haven't started assembling the team yet I have absolutely no estimation of its completion. It could take up to 999 years depending on the efficiency level. By the way, I currently plan to release all of the chapters at once after we complete them. I'm not sure how long that will take. You'll buy all of the chapters at once as one purchase. That'll be the only option. I'm not doing pre-orders because I don't like those. It just seems like the best way not to burn anybody. Price is unknown. It depends on how long the game is, and how much it costs to make... I don't know anything about what consoles, etc. it'll come out for because by the time it comes out we might be on Playstation 14 or something. So... in short, I have no idea. 4. "Is this the game's final design? Will you change anything?" It's possible I could change things. This is basically a demo. I might even change this first chapter before release depending on how development goes. This is really an excuse to talk about the parts I think had issues. THE BATTLE SYSTEM: I think the battle system could be explained better. I had a super duper long explanation of things here but really it boils down to: 1. UT's system is incompatible with multiple party members but I wanted to do it anyway because it's cool 2. I'd like to make it so for pacifist players, characters won't have to "defend" so much Oh. The people who tested the game thought that the TP system and animations were cool so it's not all bad. By the way, did you notice that getting close to bullets makes enemy attacks end faster? It doesn't work for every attack, but... EVERYTHING ELSE: I thought everything else was OK. Actually some parts were kind of lazy, like finding the key pieces, but oh well. The UI had some things that could be changed too. When making a game, there's so much to do you have to draw the line somewhere. That's why I need other people to help me (laugh) Oh, and I have no plans to add more content to the first chapter. 5. "Will there be multiple endings?" No. No matter what you do the ending will be the same. (Honestly most games are like that, but for some reason it feels really oppressive to say here...) I think that's part of the reason why the ACT / FIGHT system feels so vestigial in this one. Oh... I'm just talking about the battle system again... 6. "I found some kind of bug, will you fix it?" Hopefully an e-mail for that exists on the website by now. Or, it would be better if you could tweet it with #deltarunebug . That would really help us and make our lives easier because tweets are easier to ignore than e-mails 7. "Can I be on the team?" I'll ask you first!!! (Total silence) 8. "What's the progress on the rest of the game so far?" 0%!!! Nothing!!! I've done nothing!!! I mean, I've done some songs and written the whole story, but... Since no programming or final art has been done, it's best to just think of it at 0%. 9. "Will you do a Kickstarter?" I still haven't finished that damn Alarm Clock, are you kidding me? There's no way I'm doing a Kickstarter this time. 10. "The game doesn't work" / "I don't like the game" / "Will there be a version for (platform)?" Because it's a free download I'm surrounded by a forcefield that destroys all complaints and platform requests. There might be more platforms for the DEMO but I don't want to make any promises. (At the very least it'd be nice to do something for the people who bought the game on console.) By the way at the time of writing I haven't even rendered a Mac version whatsoever at all. I hope I can release it... (laugh) 11. "Can I buy the soundtrack for Chapter 1?" Yes! You can buy it at [ http://tobyfox.bandcamp.com ] And other forms of distribution will be in the works too. I'm writing this in the past so I don't know what I just said. 12. "Any closing remarks?" (No one asks this, but...) Thanks for playing my game. I hope you liked it. For the past 3 years I've been waking up in the middle of the night unable to go back to sleep because I've been thinking about the scenes that happen in the game. Even though so many details are still hazy, I really want to show you the things I've been thinking about. That's really my only reason for making this game. If I don't show you what I'm thinking, I'll lose my mind. (It was actually a totally selfish motivation...) By the way, I was really worried at first about making this. The expectations for my next work would be really high, so high that I knew that no matter what I did, I felt like people would be underwhelmed. If you played "UNDERTALE," I don't think I can make anything that makes you feel "that way" again. However, it's possible I can make something else. It's just something simple but maybe you'll like it. See you in ?? years... OK? Don't forget.

#deltarune #delta rune #tobyfox #undertale #twitter #deltarune spoilers #spoilers

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overallfoggy · 4 years

Text

I used to write when I was drinking.

I used to write when I was drinking. After I’d had two or three beers and was feeling the sparkle in the air. The euphoria of the beginning of being drunk. I wrote arguably lovely pieces of text with abandon. Most, I kept private, but sometimes - I released them to the internet and let the people on the other side of the screens do with them what they would. I didn’t worry too much about publishing whatever I wanted thanks to the confidence that comes with a couple drinks. Today, I’m writing sober. I’ve been thinking about publishing this post for a week, and with the encouragement and support of my doctor and loved ones, I am choosing to be brave, hold myself accountable, and share it with you.

I have been drinking for fourteen years, and it has never been a casual thing for me. I fell in love with it the moment that curdled cocktail of a-little-bit-of-everything-in-my-friend’s-parent’s-liquor-cabinet-including-the-Bailey’s touched my lips. It made me feel powerful. It made me feel giddy. It made me feel like I could do anything I wanted. It connected me to my peers and was something to relate upon with strangers. It eased my anxieties and made me forget about stress. I enjoyed and abused all of these wonderful side effects... that is, until the next day. The day after drinking, I would wake up reluctantly and immediately feel like dying. Not only due to the physical hangover, which would happen occasionally, but the emotional hangover I experienced was much more debilitating. My social anxiety was what was pounding in my head. My severe depression and lack of motivation for life was what would keep me in bed. I can’t tell you how many times I have contemplated suicide after a night of drinking. And it makes sense! Science has told us time and time again, alcohol is a depressant. When I was in this horrible state of darkness and emotional pain, what was the only thing that I knew (at the time) that would bring me out of it? Obviously, more alcohol. After all, the cure to a hangover is “hair of the dog.” More alcohol. For at least twelve years, I have been living a vicious cycle of drinking, then drinking more to ease the effects of drinking, then drinking the next day to ease that, and again the next day to ease that and that and that on top of that. It became habitual in my day-to-day life. A beer while I cooked, a couple beers with dinner, a few casual beers with friends that turned into going in on a bottle of tequila and drinking the entire thing in a couple hours. After a DUI, I “bettered myself” by making a rule that “I will never drive after drinking. Not even one drink.” Which meant I left my car all over town over night and for days at a time, needing rides everywhere I went, getting parking tickets, and losing my independence in getting myself where I needed to be when I needed to be there. I became dependent on every drink I had, needing it to not only function in social settings but to purely even survive. To keep the depression and the suicidal thoughts at bay. Until the next morning, when I could drink enough again to push them deep enough to not see them for one more day. I realized that this all was becoming a problem and an unhealthy lifestyle when my partner participated in “Sober October” a couple months back. He wasn’t drinking, so I drank even more. I realized how hard it would be for me to NOT drink for one month like he was doing. How would I go out and do anything? I told him I wanted to cut back on the drinking and moderate myself better. That lasted about two days. Then it was Halloween. Surely, it’s okay to drink on a holiday like Halloween! I got wasted. The next day I woke up and sure enough - felt like dying. The hangover was so awful physically and emotionally that for probably the twentieth time I said outloud “I’m never drinking again.” It has been one month and two weeks. Every day I feel more clear and more sure that this is the right thing for me to be doing right now. I can’t promise forever, yet, or that I won’t have a glass of champagne on a special occasion. But for now, sobriety is the way I’m going to save my own life. It comes with many challenges. I feel bored and lonely sometimes, missing my friends and my old way of life. One thing was for sure - it kept things interesting. For better or worse. I hope to be able to be out and about, at parties, and Art Walks, and concerts, and bachelorettes, and feel like I’m authentically myself. Having fun, dancing, being wild if I want to be, but just without the alcohol. I am getting closer to that each day. It would make things easier if alcohol weren’t literally everywhere. It’s like breaking up with your long term partner who you truly loved and you had a passionate relationship with... and then they become a viral sensation overnight and their face and voice is on every billboard and Netflix series, they make appearances at every event, they’re your next door neighbor, and all your friends have cute, little tiny versions of them inside their fridges, like The Borrowers. And they’re so cute because they’re so small and you just want to be friends so badly but you can’t because there’s too much history. Since I have decided to be without alcoholic beverages, I have seen a drastic improvement in the way I look, how I sleep, my cognitive skills, my confidence in myself, and my overall happiness and outlook on life. Not to mention my relationships. I am a better friend, I am a better partner, I am a better family member. I’ve taken my selfish need to drink out of the equation, which has left me with space and patience in my heart, allowing me to be more considerate of others. I’m grateful that I woke up and realized what I needed to do and that it’s been relatively easy to make a change, with the help of non-alcoholic beer to ease the initial cravings and move on. All that needed to happen for this change to happen was that I needed to make the decision myself. I appreciate any support I get from sharing my vulnerability with you all, and know that I don’t judge anyone for partaking in the consumption of alcohol. I just personally had a complicated relationship with it, one that for now, is best left untouched.

0 notes

arplis · 4 years

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Arplis - News: My 22 Goals for 2019

Goal #1 — Spend More Time Doing What I Love I think we only have about 60% of the boxes unpacked, but the best part is all nervous energy is gone and I don’t even care that we’re sleeping on a mattress on the floor or that our stuff is strewn all over the house. In another week or so things will be in their place, we’ll have a proper bed to sleep in and I’ll have found the hairdryer. Moving is super stressful, but all the hard stuff is over now {well, the HH does still have to put the treadmill together but that’s his problem, not mine}. 😉 Goal #2 — Garden, Garden, Garden The color pallet for the front garden at the new place is going to be blue, pink, white and green. I’ve already ordered 200 white, and 200 pink tulip bulbs as well as 500 tiny grape hyacinth {muscari} to plant in the front flower bed. {Don’t you think that’s a dreamy color combination?} Now all I need to do is hunt down 9 blue hydrangea plants and about 36 baby gem boxwoods and I’ll be good to go. Oh, and maybe one or two pink common hibiscus for the tall corner in the front. And then HEY… I can settle in for winter and worry about the rest later. 😉 Also, I thought I’d mention that Botanical Interests is offering 30% off seeds right now in case you wanted to do a little late fall/winter sowing. {I’ll be planting a bunch of poppy seeds just before the first hard freeze}. Goal #3 — Plant an Orchard {Calling it Quits on this one.} I never did get around to planting an orchard, but Lemon and all but 2 of her babies survived the journey and the new place has a plum tree so that part is good. And, I think there might be room for an espalier tree or two at the back of the new house so I may get an orchard after all. But, it wouldn’t be planted until next spring. Goal #4 — Gussy Up the Potting Shed Done! I left the potting bench but took the party lights with me. Goal #5 — Grow Enough Extra Vegetables, Eggs and Flowers to Earn $1500 at my little roadside vegetable stand. It was totally my intention to grow a ton of fruits and vegetables to sell at the farm-stand when I made my list of goals for 2019 last winter, but then we moved. So, that whole goal was sort of a bust. The new peeps wanted the vegetable stand, and we were happy to leave it for them since it was made specifically to match the front of the house, so hopefully the tradition will continue. Goal #6 — Finish Every Single Unfinished Rug Hooking Project in My Pattern Bin + 10 Things from back Issues of Magazines/Books I’ve Been Meaning to Make. I finally finished the turkey rug I’ve been working on the past few weeks along with a few other things and I was able to upload them to my Etsy shop this weekend. I also hooked another pumpkin and a cat head and will try to get those listed along with some new wool bundles later this week. I still have a ton of things to hook if I’m going to meet my goal of clearing out my pattern bin, but I think once November and December roll around, the HH won’t be able to pry me off the couch because I’ll be in full on hooking mode and I’ll be able to finish all my rugs by the end of the year. 73 rugs in my pattern bin {now down to 34} 183 hooked flowers {finished 133, now down to 51} 10 “things” from back issues of magazines {finished 0} Goal #7 — Create 12 New Rug Hooking Patterns {with at least half of them being large ones} DONE! So far this year I’ve added 12 new rug hooking patterns and 13 beginner rug hooking kits to my Etsy shop. New rug hooking patterns I’ve created and added to My Etsy Shop this year: Tullia and Thomas Turkey Double Nantucket Whale Runner Miss Henny and Penny Miss Penny Simple Kitty Primitive Flowers 2 Fat Cats Annabell’s Big Day Old Fashioned Double Tulip Fat Brown Hen Busy Little Bee Queen Bee Rug Hooking Kits Busy Little Bee {in 2 different colors} Folk Art Heart Small Nantucket Whale Primitive Crow Miss Robin {in 2 different colors} Simple Kitty Primitive Flowers Sunflowers A Basket of Spring Posies Fat Brown Hen Chicky’s Garden Goal #8 — Split and Stack 2 Cords of Wood for Next Winter All that firewood! We sold it. 😉 Goal #9 — Do Something with the 5,002 Photos on My Phone Current number of photos on phone is 10 million. Goal #10 –Lose the Muffin Top I went out for a walk yesterday and guess what I spotted… A little hello from Mrs. HB. Hahaha! I still think it’s weird there are people walking the streets and picking their teeth. Why can’t they do this in the privacy of their own homes? WHY!? WHY!? I just don’t understand. *The shoes are made by DuckFeet style: Jylland {you can get a $30 off coupon HERE}. Someone always asks. Goal #11 — Run, Walk or Crawl a 5k, 10k, Half Marathon and Marathon Hey! I have picked out not only a 5k Turkey Trot but a half marathon as well. Looks like this goal will be wrapped on Thanksgiving. Saaaweet! Goal #12 — Read or Listen to 26 New Books {17 down, 8 to go} I finished Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand and highly recommend it. And also requested a few more audiobooks. Currently on Request: I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron Mr. Churchill’s Secretary by Susan Elia MacNeal The War That Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley Books I’ve Read or Listened to So Far This Year: Marilla of Green Gables #1 Still my favorite The Great Alone #2 The Aviator’s Wife #3 Before We Were Yours #4 Secrets of a Charmed Life #5 Where’d You Go, Bernadette #6 Carnegie’s Maid #7 The Gown #8 Unbroken #9 The Alice Network #10 The Shape of Mercy #11 Will’s Red Coat #12 Big Little Lies #13 Bunny Mellon {Doesn’t count because it was my second time} On Writing {Doesn’t count because it was my third time} Walden Finder’s Keepers Delicious! Following Atticus Goal #13 — Try 52 New Recipes. 24 down, 30 recipes to go. OCTOBER. October is going to be my month for cooking! Goal #14 — Clean Up 52 Old Recipes on the Blog 9 down, 44 to go. I’ll get crackin’ once fall {and cooler temps} come around. Goal #15 — Fill 100 Canning Jars 48 down, 52 to go. I won’t be able to get any canning done in the next few weeks but I am planning on getting some jam on the shelves for us to use on toast as well as to give away this Christmas. I’ll probably need at least another month to get settled in though. Oh! And get this. The new house has a root cellar… AND the perfect spot for storing canned goods. 😉 I’ll have to show you the space when I get some time. So far this year I’ve I canned: 7 jars Peach Jam 7 jars of Strawberry Jam 15 jars of Carrot Cake Jam 15 jars of Spiced Pear Jam 4 jars of Almond Pears. Goal #16 — Finish Furnishing Our House So here’s the funny thing…. Even though we sold the old house and a boatload of furniture, I am still keeping this goal. I already have my eye on some pieces for the family room and then all I need is a new bed and we’re good to go. The new place is much smaller than the old one and so getting the entire house furnished by the end of the year, is going to be a snap. High five for downsizing. Goal #17 – 52 Dates with the HH {28 down, 24 to go} We went to a fancy-schmancy restaurant to celebrate. 😉 Goal #18 — Take One Adult Education Class Done {I’ve taken 3!} I’m keeping the first class I took with my neighbor top secret for now {Mel know’s what it is though} 😉 Spoon Carving Class with Heather. Mini pottery lesson {I loved it! and now I want to sign up for a full class} Goal #19 — Secret {for now} Holiday Project The big reveal will be on Friday, November 1st. So now you know why I had to push back the date on the big reveal. I have all the supplies on hand to get started and my practice piece done, but I still have boxes to unpack and the need to get the majority of the house in order before I start on the main holiday project as its going to need it’s own little assembly line set up. Goal #20 — Create 12 Wowie Zowie Party Platters 5 down, 7 to go. Finally! I made some pickety bits. 😉 Goal #21 — Visit 12 General Stores 8 down 4 to go. So far this year we’ve visited: Chase’s Daily {I think it should count} Squam Lake Marketplace Harrisville General Store Dodge’s Store in New Boston, New Hampshire Zeb’s General Store in North Conway, New Hampshire Dan and Whit’s in Norwich, Vermont Hussey’s General Store in Windsor, Maine Goal #22 — Compete with Carole….. Get on My Front Door Game On I can still compete with Carole from afar, right? Once we get closer to Halloween I’ll hang Mrs. HB’s spectacular Halloween wreath she sent me. But for now, I’ll settle for a few pumpkins and a swag of Indian corn on the door. Front Door Bling I’ve Made So Far This Year to Compete with Carole: Late January : Valentine Heart Late February : Shamrock Late March : Giant Carrot May: White wave petunia hanging basket June/July: Tin Star and Flag Bunting August : Sunflower September: Indian corn and pumpkins ************** How about YOU? What are your goals for 2019? If you told us about them HERE, check in! We want to know how you are doing. Because seriously, it’s so much easier to get those goals checked off your list when you have people rooting for you! 🙂 Have a great day everyone, Mavis You can read more about my 22 goals for 2019 HERE. Have a Great Day! The post – Week 38 of 52 appeared first on One Hundred Dollars a Month. This content was original published at One Hundred Dollars a Month and is copyrighted material. If you are reading this on another website it is being published without consent. Comments So many questions…. *did Girl go with you? *oh no! Like ... by tia in boise A series on HOW you got rid of stuff would be helpful -garage ... by Anne The grape hyacinth image is lovely and reminds me of the ... by Mel Me too. I have been busy but somehow I must have missed that ... by Ginger Ha-ha! Yes, will HH be firing up the grill. by Ginger Plus 5 more... Related Stories – Week 39 of 52 – Week 37 of 52 – Week 36 of 52 #12GoalsForTheNewYear

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/my-22-goals-for-2020

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witter-potter · 7 years

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cause your favorite color is me

pairing: riley matthews & lucas friar word count: 2,006 prompt: "day one: canon verse - something that takes place in the canon universe as we know it” written for: rucas fanfic week 2017 summary: because riley’s always loved the color purple, but she’s fairly certain the color green might be the most beautiful color she’s ever seen in her life. notes: here’s my day one fic!! i’m not really sure exactly what prompted this idea, but i’m pretty pleased with the overall outcome. it doesn’t necessarily take place within a certain time frame, it’s post ski lodge, set sometime within freshman year of high school. it’s fluffy, and hopefully brings you feelings. enjoy!

For the first fourteen years of her life, Riley is absolutely, one hundred percent positive that her favorite color is purple. Ever since she was a little girl, it had always been the color she had felt the most love for. On Halloween, she wanted to wear the purple princess dress, not the pink one, on her birthday she asked that all her presents be wrapped in purple wrapping paper.

On top of all of that, almost every creation she’s crafted in art class is splashed completely in purple and her stuffed purple cat, Violet, is one of her most prized possessions. It’s very easy to tell that her favorite color is purple.

As cheesy as it sounds, she always assumed that her favorite color would be something that would never change. Like Maya being her best friend, or Cory and Topanga being her parents, she always thought purple being her favorite color was a lock in. The color purple had always brought her comfort and joy, she never thought it would be replaced in her heart.

However, over time, that slowly began to change.

...

It all started in art class, as most color related epiphanies often do. Maya was next to her, creating another one of her masterpieces and Riley was stuck, as she usually was when it came to art. The assignment was to paint something from the heart, usually Riley would create one of her purple cats, her mother would no doubt sigh and shake her head playfully when Riley presented it to her later that night, but alas it would still find its way onto the fridge, as they always did.

But, for some reason, on this particular day, something else entirely was speaking to her.

Getting up from her seat, she made her way over to the paint cabinet, her face furrowed in thought. Examining the purple paint, grabbing it seemed almost instinctual and despite her lack of passion for purple cats that day, she almost snatched it out of habit. But at the last second, her heart told her to grab the green paint that was settled on the bottom shelf, between the red and the wall of the cabinet.

She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to grab it, the color was bright and reminded her of something, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maya gave her a strange look when she sat back down, no doubt questioning the lack of purple, but didn’t say anything. Riley was glad for that, because she wouldn’t have had an answer for any question that could be asked.

“Wow, Ms. Matthews. I’m a little unsure of what exactly you’ve created here, but I’m tempted to say that this is your best work yet.”

“Thanks Mr. Jackson, I’m not really sure either.”

The painting was some sort of odd mixture of greens, with various dashes of brown mixed in. Riley wasn’t even sure what exactly she was creating, but it all seemed familiar to her. Looking at Maya, her best friend had a small smile on her face.

“It’s beautiful Riles. When Mr. Jackson said to paint from the heart, I assumed you would create another purple cat masterpiece, but this is quite the substitute.”

Replying with a smile, Riley admired her piece. It really was beautiful, not nearly as nice as the creation that Maya had put together, but it was definitely something to be proud of. She only wished she could put her finger on why she had painted it.

…

It happens again a couple weeks later, Riley finding herself drawn to the light and bright hues of a green shade, rather than the comfortable and familiar color of purple she had always been so attached to. This time it happens while she’s out shopping with her mom.

“Sweetheart, I think this dress would look adorable on you.” Her mom says from within the racks, pointing to a dress hanging on display. Riley smiles, the dress is exactly the kind of thing that Riley would wear. It hangs about knee length, and is adorned in purple lace, the dress is cute but for some reason she can’t bring herself to be excited about it.

Instead, her eyes catch a green dress across the aisle, the design in similar, but instead of the overlay of lace being the color is a lilac, soft and pastel, the lace is a bright green. It reminds her of something, something that causes her heart to race, but she still can’t quite nail it down. The green is bright and vibrant, and as soon as she looks at it, she knows she has to have it.

“What do you think of this one, mom?” Riley asks, running the soft fabric through her fingers.

“I think that one’s beautiful too, I didn’t know green was your color.” Topanga raises an eyebrow at her daughter, and Riley merely shrugs.

“I didn’t either.”

Her mother smiles at her, rubbing her shoulder lightly. She has a look in her eye that makes Riley cock her head in confusion. Her mother looks like she knows something, as mothers always do, but she can’t put her finger on what it is that her mother might know.

“Can I ask you something silly, mom?”

“No question is silly, Riley.” Her mom says pointedly, tapping Riley’s hand.

“Can you have two different colors? I know that it’s just a color, but purple has been my favorite color my entire life and now….never mind, it’s a silly question.”

Her mom smiles again, that same knowing mother smile. Nodding slightly, she wraps her arm around Riley’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s always okay to love more than one thing. The color purple has always been there for you, ever since you were a little girl.” Riley nods, biting her lip lightly. “But, you’re growing up, discovering new things and you’re opening your heart up to new things.”

“Really? You think?”

“I do. Sometimes things like our favorite color, or our favorite number, they represent people or memories. That’s why we love them so much. My favorite number is twenty, because that’s how old I was when I married your dad.”

Riley smiles at her mother’s words, filled with a little more understanding now. She looks at the green dress again, her heart warming in her chest as she admires the color. She knows that what her mother is saying is right, green represents something.

She just isn’t quite sure what, yet.

…

She gets her answer a couple weeks later, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.

The rain has kept her and Lucas tied up indoors. They were going to go for a walk after school, all of their friends tied up with other after school activities, but when the rain hit, they instead decided to do homework at her house.

“Lucas, how good are you at fractions?” Riley groans from her bed, taking a third look at her math homework. She had been avoiding it in favor of other homework, but now it was all she had left to do. Math had never really been her strong suit.

“Um, not great, but I can try.” Lucas replied, making his way from her desk to her bed, sitting down next to her cautiously. Despite their four month long relationship, sometimes doing things like sitting on her bed together still felt weird, but she would chalk some of that up to them both being afraid of what her father would think if he walked in and saw them together.

Riley admired him as he looked at her homework, smiling at the way his eyebrows furrowed together and the way his fingers held his pen. It was moments like these that she held closest to her heart.

“Oh, this is actually a lot easier then the question is making it sound.” Lucas said, lifting his head from her paper to meet her gaze.

Riley’s heart dropped in her chest at the sight. It had been so long since her and Lucas were this close to each other, at least close enough to really look into each other’s eyes, she had forgotten how, green and vibrant his eyes were.

The afternoon sun coming through the window was practically dancing off the mesmerizing mixture of shades that swirled together in his eyes, that the sight left her breathless. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from them.

“You alright?” Lucas asked after a second, clearly confused by her lack of response.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess, I just never noticed how green your eyes were.” Riley said, slightly breathless, her voice quiet and soft. She resisted the urge to reach out and run her fingers across his cheekbone and highlight the masterpiece that sat upon his face.

“Oh.” Lucas looked surprised, and he immediately tore his gaze away from hers, looking back down at the paper in front of him.

“I never noticed how beautiful they were.” She clarified.

“They’re not beautiful, they’re just green. There’s really nothing too special about them.” Lucas said with a shrug, looking slightly uncomfortable, but Riley wasn’t backing down quite yet.

“They’re not just green. They’re the perfect mixture of light and dark green, with fleck of brown and gold that reflect the light. And the color green goes perfectly with your skin color and your hair.” She paused for a second, smiling softly. “They’re my favorite color.”

Lucas smirked slightly, despite his light blush of embarrassment. “I thought purple was your favorite color.”

“It is. But you can have more than one favorite color. Besides, different colors have different meanings and you love them for different reasons. I’ve always loved the color purple and I probably always will, but when I open my heart up to new things, I discover that I really love the color green.”

Lucas smiles then, one of his big, genuine ones. One of the ones that brightens his eyes even more, and reaches every corner of his face, and Riley can’t help but return it. They’re silent for a moment, both of them just smiling at the gravity of the moment they just shared.

“My favorite color is brown.”

Riley looks at him, seeing the small grin his face causes her to blush. She nudges him with her shoulder, shaking her head. “Now you’re just lying, anyone who knows you knows that your favorite color is blue.”

“Blue is my favorite color to wear, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s my favorite color.” Lucas says simply, shrugging like it’s the most simple thing in the entire world. “For me, my favorite color has always been the color that makes me feel something, that makes my heart beat faster, or makes me lose my breath. That color is brown.”

Riley smiles then, allowing herself to meet Lucas’ eyes once more, getting lost in their color. She feels her heart beat faster and her palms are sweating and she understands what Lucas had just been saying.

Purple had always brought her comfort, made her feel safe. She had always thought it was pleasing to look at and it brought joy into her life, but it never made her feel like this. As strange as it all sounds, she’s fairly certain she’s in love with the color green.

…

Later that night, she lays awake in bed, her heart still reeling from her afternoon with Lucas. Nothing had happened, but a couple of hours of staring into each other’s eyes was enough to bring butterflies to her stomach. Although, to be fair, everything with Lucas brought butterflies to her stomach.

She had always thought that Lucas had nice eyes, much prettier than her simple brown ones, but now they meant so much more. They were masterpiece, and they were hers to get lost in.

When she finally brings herself to fall asleep, she’s surrounded by a swirl of green and golden brown, ready to carry her safely to dreamland, slowly wondering if this is what falling in love feels like.

#rucasficweek2017 #rucas fanfic #rucas #rucas squad #userdivine #fanfic*#HERE'S DAY ONE!!!!#i'm not 100% pleased with the ending #but when am i ever #i'm excited fam let's do this

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thisdaynews · 4 years

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The Myth of ‘Unchained Hillary’

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/the-myth-of-unchained-hillary/

The Myth of ‘Unchained Hillary’

As most Democrats look ahead to 2020, Clinton and her fans keep using Twitter to relive and recast 2016. Online, at least, there are still plenty of people who refer to her as “Madam President,” and she tosses this club a steady stream of caustic little bonbons: subtleMean Girlsreferences, snarky clapbacks, dry comments like “Yes, I am famously underscrutinized.” Fans responded to that one with cheers and GIFs of Rihanna putting on a crown. A writer forEsquiresummed up the sentiment: “You’re having fun now, aren’t you?”

The tweets have helped conjure an image of the former candidate you might call Unchained Hillary, or, as some of her Twitter followers have dubbed it, Hillary with “zero f—s left to give.” The idea is that, unconstrained by public office, unfazed by critics and trolls, Clinton feels free to unleash a looser, truer, more spontaneous self. Her Twitter account is the most reliable vehicle for this version of Hillary, but she has shown flashes of the persona at public appearances, too: flipping through a book of her emails at a Venice Biennale art installation and filming a Halloween bit for about the scariness of the Electoral College for theDaily Show with Trevor Noah. In early December, she spent hours chatting with Howard Stern, talking trash about Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders, even addressing head-on the rumors that she’s a lesbian. (“Never even been tempted,” she said.)

Unchained Hillary is perceived not just as a set of tweets but almost a new character on the political stage, the candidate her fanswishhad run in 2016. She is casual, snappy, direct and less inclined to carefully triangulate every public statement. And her presence over the past few months, online and in a string of book-related media appearances, has sparked a whole new round of speculation: Could Unchained Hillary have beaten Trump? Could she swoop into the 2020 field? Is she laying the groundwork for yet another phase of a political career?

But Clinton’s fans might want to cool off their enthusiasm. If you take the full measure of Clinton’s career, her voice appears less as a reinvention than as a kind of solar eclipse: Without the candidate version of Clinton to dominate our view, delivering cautious speeches and walking rope lines, her online persona shines through far more clearly. And that persona isn’t a new thing. It’s a side of Hillary Clinton sharpened by what you might call the default voice of Twitter: Sardonic, mildly bitter, unafraid to say what everyone else is thinking. It’s the same voice her digital staff worked hard to craft in 2016. Hillary, and whoever still might tweet for her, has been good at that for a while. So what is she using her voice for now?

***

Donald Trump may get all the attentionfor being the first candidate who used Twitter to disrupt politics, but if he’d never come along, with his unspellchecked fire hose of insult and puffery, Clinton stood a good chance of being that person. Even before young upstarts like Reps. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Ilhan Omar made emojis and quote-tweet clapbacks the norm on political Twitter—in fact, well before the 2016 race—Clinton’s digital staff was pioneering a new political tone on social media.

Early on, the Clinton team understood how to seize the made-for-internet moments that fell in their laps, as shown by one well-known episode in 2012 when Clinton was secretary of State and Reuters published a candid photo of her wearing sunglasses and staring at her BlackBerry. Two young Washington public relations hands launched a Tumblr blog featuring imagined text exchanges between this boss-lady version of Clinton and various public figures. One sample exchange from the blog went like this: Barack Obama: “Hey Hil, Whatchu doing?” Clinton: “Running the world.” Clinton’s staff had the instinct to capitalize on the moment: They quickly reached out to the bloggers, contributing an entry and inviting them to meet her. It was proof not just that she could get a joke, but that she could toss it back in fluent internet-speak. (There is a cautionary tale embedded here, too: It was literally that photo of Clinton on her Blackberry that prompted the initial questions about her use of a private email server.)

Imagewise, the moment felt like a stake in the ground, a sign of new-media savvy at a time when many veteran politicians found the internet a mystifying entity. And in the 2016 race, Clinton doubled down. To run her digital operations, she hired Teddy Goff, who had been President Barack Obama’s digital director in 2012, and led a staff of Brooklyn-based “content producers” who aimed for a savvy, conversational voice. “We’re not competing with Donald Trump on Facebook,” Goff told theNew York Timesat the time. “We’re competing with your best friend, your spouse, your mom, last night’s Olympics clips.”

Ultimately, though, Clintonwascompeting against Trump. And when you look back at the candidates’ bodies of social media work, you can see how hard Clinton’s campaign worked to match the energy of Trump’s insane, magnetic feed—and how successful it was in crafting something to meet the moment.

Trump wielded the medium much as he does now, with a reflexive mix of anger, pride, insults and oddball jokes. His tweets were an extension of his mood, his brain and his ego, and they felt like a manifestation of his true self. When his staff tweeted for him, it was often obvious: No one else could have crafted that voice. Clinton’s feed—which, like many other politicians’, was largely ghostwritten—was more tightly attuned to the social trends of the moment. Her staff balanced sly references to the Trump campaign with the salty terseness of Twitter clapbacks. “Delete your account,” read her most-retweeted entry. It came in response to a snide comment from Trump about Obama’s endorsement of Clinton. “(It’s only Wednesday.),” she tweeted in May 2016, above an image of a statement from her campaign chairman describing a rash of questionable behavior by Trump that week. “Vote your conscience,” read another, a reference to a speech Ted Cruz had made an hour and a half earlier at the Republican National Convention. (That tweet was paired with a link to a voter registration page.) Her feed was also savvy about pop culture; when Trump used an image of “Frozen” merchandise to defend himself against charges of anti-Semitism, Clinton shot back with a “Frozen” reference that eviscerated his argument.

Woven in with these grabs for clicks and cash were videos of the candidate at African American churches and talking with little girls—the kind of anodyne fare that, in a previous campaign, might have been the entire social media program. Clinton’s team didn’t have the luxury to fall back on feel-good messaging, so it made the most of the sometimes odd combination of her wonkish, earnest persona and Twitter’s hard-edged cynicism. The feed could be informal, curt, and bold. It aimed at looking effortless, even when tweets were layered with carefully considered meaning. In the case of the “Wednesday” tweet, for instance, Clinton was essentially dunking the ball after an alley-oop pass, adding humor on top of a substantive point—a tested social media trick to make the original point spread farther and wider than it would have on its own. “If there is one thing that the internet likes, it’s being really direct. If there’s been a change in how Hillary engages online, then that’s probably it,” Goff told Elle magazine in the summer of 2016.

The effort didn’t always hit the mark. Both supporters and critics on the left complained about the glibness of a tweet that asked, “How does your student loan debt make you feel? Tell us in 3 emojis or less.” Overall, though, Clinton’s social media operation was noted for its fluency in internet. “Hillary Clinton’s Twitter game is #Strong,” read one Elle social headline. A piece in Mashable explained “How the Clinton campaign is slaying social media.” By the July before the election, she had about 7 million Twitter followers, compared to Trump’s 10 million. (They’re now at 26 million and 68 million, respectively.)

The trademark success of her digital team was taking a candidate frequently knocked for her lack of charisma and building a charismatic online presence around the parts of her personality that matched. And in some ways, Twitter’s snarky milieu made that easy. In real life, Clinton “has a very biting, sharp sense of humor, or a very sharp, humorous way of making serious points,” says Philippe Reines, Clinton’s longtime aide, spokesman and debate-prep sparring partner. “Twitter allows us to say things that ordinarily would stay in your head, or in the room you’re in, and share it with the world.”

***

Today, Clinton’s staff is largely gone,and it’s safe to assume her Twitter voice is more reliably her own. “She has a very small office, and it’s mostly scheduling, correspondence—so there’s no ‘they,’” Reines tells me. Sometimes a staff member will have an idea for a tweet, he says, “but she’s not one of these absentee landlords on her Twitter account at all. And certainly nothing goes out without her, you know, putting her imprimatur on it.” Goff declined to comment for this story; another longtime Clinton spokesperson ghosted.

Clearly, there’s something real about the Clinton we see now, but the campaign DNA remains.

There’s the same dry sarcasm, as when she tweeted a clip of Trump talking about Ukraine to news reporters and commented, “Someone should inform the president that impeachable offenses committed on national television still count.” There’s a very non-boomery engagement with current pop culture. Over the summer, she had a brief exchange with pop singer Lizzo; last spring, she tweeted at Trump with a famousMean GirlsGIF in which Regina George asks, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” She wields hashtags like #tbt, which she artfully used to reference her time spent, as a young lawyer, on the Watergate impeachment inquiry. And she tweeted a fake letter from John F. Kennedy to Nikita Khrushchev, lifted from Jimmy Kimmel writers, that was obviously primed to spread like wildfire—much like the made-to-go-viral tools her campaign created, like a “Trump Yourself” filter that let users overlay Trump quotes on social media photos.

On the other hand, Clinton issues even more tweets that feel like official communications from an ongoing campaign. There are plenty of cheery, milquetoast tweets promotingGutsy Women, the book she co-wrote with her daughter. Policy endorsements get threaded in, sometimes less artfully; after the World Series, she turned a congratulatory tweet for the Washington Nationals into an endorsement for Washington, D.C., statehood. Still pinned to the top of her feed is a line from her 2016 concession speech about the value of little girls.

Reines agrees with the notion that there’s nothing new about Clinton’s public persona—and that, over her decades of public life, as she’s taken on a broad range of public roles, people have always tried to search for hidden meaning in the same old communications. “Look, I started to work for her in 2002. I’ve gone through this ‘something’s changed’ routine,” he tells me. “I really think it’s in the ear of the beholder.”

So if she’s still maintaining the persona, and the presence, her staff built to run for president in 2016, what’s it all for this time? Clinton has publicly pushed back on the idea that she’ll run again. But there are clues scattered throughout her 2017 postelection memoir,What Happened. The book was mostly infused with a sense of mourning for a presidential administration that wasn’t to be and a place in history as the first female president. At one point, she shared a passage from her planned election night victory speech, in which she imagined meeting her mother as an 8-year-old and telling her that her future daughter would grow up to be president. It seemed clear that she saw her loss, not just as a shock or a thwarting of ambition, but as something closer to personal tragedy. It was an emotional defeat she could manage in part by retreating from public life: walking in the woods, spending time with her grandchildren, going to the theater.

Now, though, she has recovered and rebounded is and back on the public stage, through some combination of circumstance and calculation. She wrote a book about successful upstart women, with a massive book tour scheduled for the run-up to an election year—and a built-in reason to maintain a Twitter presence. And the fact that her book appearances coincide with the Trump impeachment drama makes her loyal fans cling even more fiercely to their alternate vision of 2016, the fact that she won the popular vote, the lingering “I-told-you-so” factor. She’s still a political player, but the campaign is different this time: It’s a bid to solidify her place in history. And without the grueling work of actually going out on the stump, she still gets to act like a candidate. Occasionally.

#Foreign #Hillary #Politics #Unchained

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