#just cataloging my dumb thoughts and sensations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ngame989 · 5 years

Text

“Glow” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 5

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Editing: @toxicpsychox, @seddm, @dinodinodude, an invaluable IRL friend

Summary: A new sort of feeling arises in Star and Marco's relationship, leaving them uncertain how to handle it. But with the advice of their loved ones and their unbounded emotional honesty with each other, they might just discover for themselves how to bask in its glow.

Comic Page

This one’s a bit different, y’all. It deals with sexual themes and has two separate versions, the full story on AO3 being non-explicit/tasteful M and the edited Tumblr version being a heavy T. This is the only fic for TGG that I plan on crossing the T/PG13 threshold with, but my goal for this series was to catalog the journey of Star and Marco after the show ended and I stand by my decision to include this as a part of it. Please read the content warning and enjoy whatever version you are most comfortable with, if either.

Also, as a fun aside, you may recall the first scene of this from the teaser I posted here months ago, so the snippet of Starco fanfiction I wrote in the presence of Daron Nefcy is now officially part of the work!

Masterpost

See below for the text and an important content warning, hope you enjoy!

IMPORTANT CONTENT WARNING AND AUTHOR’S NOTE: This chapter deals with sexual themes and my telling of a >16 year old Star and Marco’s first time. The text below is a modified version of the complete fic, posted exclusively on AO3 (linked below). I want The Greatest Gift as a whole to be accessible to a PG13 audience, and as such the Tumblr and FFnet versions have been altered to fit that, but I would HIGHLY advise you read the full version on AO3 for the intended narrative experience. It contains a non-vulgar and tasteful but still direct depiction of sexual intimacy that I feel is non-expendable to the emotional narrative, but I fully understand if any readers are not comfortable with it and hope you enjoy the version below.

FULL VERSION (AO3)

***

Star Butterfly was sure of only a few things in life: cake is the best kind of breakfast, wood deserves to be destroyed at every opportunity, she loved Marco, Marco loved her - just some basic truths she could always rely on. Certainty was a lofty bar, but if she died right now and went straight to heaven, she was almost certain she’d recreate magic with her bare hands just to portal back to Earthni as quickly as possible. Star wasn’t sure why, really; it was nowhere near her first kiss, still far from her first kiss with Marco, and it wasn’t even their first time getting a bit… heated. Of course she always enjoyed it, but why did everything feel amplified tenfold?

Her train of thought was delightfully derailed when Marco broke their nth kiss of the evening – she’d lost count of how many quite a while ago. She pushed herself back up on her elbows and knees and gazed lovingly at her boyfriend beneath her on the bed, his soothing chocolate eyes and visibly flushed cheeks standing out against the baby blue of his pajamas and bed sheets. So cute, her mind purred. His hands lingered on her cheeks for a few more seconds before they reached up to try and corral a few stray blonde hairs that draped down near his face. His brow furrowed as he struggled to tame her mane; it could have killed the mood after the first few failed attempts, but tonight Star found herself with a slowly spreading dopey smile on her face watching Marco struggle to neaten her up. “Hey,” she giggled after a long few moments, leaning down to kiss him on the nose.

Another large strand of hair draped onto him; his visage took on a determined look as he puffed some air to move it. “Hi”, he responded, satisfied with his efforts and finally returning her grin. They stayed like this, just basking in their goofy intimacy in the starlight twinkling through the window. Those feelings were still slowly smoldering inside, but they instantly ignited when Marco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down on top of him, resuming their kissing with renewed ardency. Her eyes shut as she tried to just tune out the world and experience nothing but Marco. The lingering scent of shampoo or soap, some variant of cinnamon, was something she’d no doubt smelled countless times before, but in the moment it was intoxicating. Instinct took over, and Star’s instincts in this field all tended to lead to one particular place. One hand, then another, slipped their way under his pajama shirt, tracing the area where another Marco in another time might be buff beyond belief, but the last year had still done him quite a bit of good in that department. A tingling sensation, one that she wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with, pricked her skin all over when one of Marco’s hands moved upward to tangle itself in her hair and bring them ever closer, trying to feel as much of his presence as she could. Light began to seep in through her eyelids, which was odd considering the sun had gone down and all the lights were off. She opened her eyes, still maintaining the kiss, and moved a hand up to the back of Marco’s head to inspect the situation while idly twirling a lock of his hair.

Upon seeing a two brilliantly glowing moons on his cheeks, she started suddenly enough that her forehead collided with Marco’s. “Ow, Star, ow, what the-”

“Marco… your cheeks…”

His eyes opened after he finished rubbing the pain in his forehead out, finally noticing the brilliant light. “That hasn’t happened since right after Cleaving. Weeeeird. Wait, why aren’t yours glowing?”

“They aren’t?” Star’s nose scrunched up in thought; rationally, she knew that there wasn’t necessarily any reason to expect it, but usually everything between them happened in sync. “You’re right, it’s weeeeird.”

Marco propped himself on his elbows and shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Could be something dumb, that happens a lot with magic. Maybe it’s just because I drank too much soda earlier,” he jested.

“I finished off all the Mountain Mew days ago, and mine didn’t light up then,” Star retorted, but her eyes went wide before she’d even finished saying it. Oh no, Star, you really screwed up now...

“Explains why you were so jittery,” he sniggered, shifting to lie down once more. He was halfway down on the bed before he sprang back up, pivoting directly towards Star and staring at her incredulously. “Wait, all of it? Even the limited edition Caja Clash?” She merely responded with a guilty lopsided smile, eyes downcast. “Staaaaaar... That was Quest Buy-exclusive, and that was like a year’s supply…” he groaned and slumped back into the pillows.

“It’s just so delicious, Marco! Ugh, it was dumb, I’m sorry, I always tell myself ‘just one more’ but then-”

“Star,” he said firmly to cut off her imminent rambling. After a long moment, during which Star finally managed to still herself, he warily smiled. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, I’m sure we can find more somewhere. Maybe Tom has connections or something. Besides, I still have at least a few hidden in case something like this happened, so we can just-”

“Well, about that…”

“Decoy backup stash,” Marco stated flatly. “Good thing Janna hates the stuff, though, or else there’d be no hope for any of it.” Star snickered, relieved that she hadn’t screwed everything up. He shuffled under the covers and gave her an expectant look, at which she crawled in beside him. Deep down she bemoaned the fact that something just always seemed to get in the way lately, but she cherished all these moments nonetheless. They shared one last quick kiss before she turned around and wiggled herself into his arms for their usual night-time cuddles.

“G’night, Star, love you.”

“Love you too,” she sighed out, but something still didn’t add up. It had to be the soda, right? It still nagged at her a little bit, but it was more comfortable believing that the unexpected tonight was all some dumb delicious soda’s fault. Maybe it wasn’t certain, but it was easy, and giving in to that idea calmed her until sleep finally took hold.

***

Forward, forward. Thrust forward. Steady on your feet. Star pressed the attack with a flurry of slashes, keeping her momentum driven towards her opponent relentlessly. He took it in stride, deflecting each blow and hopping backwards in lockstep with her, spinning and ducking and dodging, seemingly immune to being thrown off balance. A forceful parry turned her most powerful strike against her, sending her reeling backwards.

You can do this. Her eyes darted around momentarily in an attempt to regain her bearings. Steel from Marco’s blade sparkled in the fading Earthni sunlight, distracting from the far more ornate guard covering his hands entirely from this angle - dark blue with a heart and crescent moon on opposite sides of the weapon - it was only fitting he’d decided to nickname it “Cleaver” when she gave him the custom-crafted falchion for his birthday months ago. He was wearing an outfit similar to his riding gear, a ripped jacket on top of his grey t-shirt to protect from the chill of the evening weather. Star couldn’t help but notice that it was hugging him a bit more closely than when they’d started these sparring sessions in recent months, probably from a combination of his growing height and the light muscle definition making itself visible through the fabric. The calm of their recent lives was wonderful, but this was a welcome dose of action and adventure, and she wasn’t exactly opposed to getting to seeing Marco in the heat of battle more often.

Focus. Their eyes finally met, his smoldering with enough confidence to outmatch the fire in her own. Star and Marco stared at each other for a few moments, breathing heavily. Finally, Marco slowly advanced, measuring his strikes carefully to be counterable but still successful, shoving her backwards without ever completely finishing the job.

He’s good, but you’re Star Butterfly. She huffed each time metal clanged on metal, trying her best to mirror Marco’s cool responses to oncoming attacks but getting more and more frustrated and unsteady with each blow. Finally her patience snapped as she dashed towards him with a strangled scream. His eyes narrowed as he powerfully swung in retaliation and Star’s realized a split-second too late what he was aiming to do. The silver blade struck home near the hilt of her own right when she adjusted her grip for her own strike, knocking it to the ground.

Oh crud.

The two registered what was happening at about the same time, a spark of panic evident in Marco’s expression as Star started to topple to the ground. He tossed his weapon aside gracelessly and dove forward instinctively, wrapping an arm around her before they both hit the grass, rolling until she was lying haphazardly on top of him.

“Soooooo… draw?” Star suggested playfully after she’d regained her breath.

Marco chuckled, stretching out his limbs on the ground rather than wasting any energy trying to get up. “Fine. It was a close one.”

She rolled over and debated pushing herself up on her hands to face him, but instead opted to flop down into his chest since her arms felt like pudding. His heart pumped forcefully enough to make the vibration felt on her cheek. “Yeah, but I haven’t won yet. Still getting used to fighting without any magic.”

“You’ll get there, Star.”

“I know. I do have the best teacher, after all,” she crooned, waggling her finger lazily in the air before booping him on the nose and scooting upwards to nuzzle into his neck. Another few minutes of rest went by until Star shivered, feeling an especially potent blast of cold air on her skin. “OK, Marco, cuddles are great and all but it’s kinda cold and I’m kinda sweaty.” She stood and helped him up, taking the swords back inside. “Dibs on first shower!” Star shouted when Marco was distracted, bolting upstairs before he could try and stop her. She stepped under the spray, letting the initial burst of cold water hit her to rinse off before settling in under a soothing warm deluge. The only thing that kept her from letting it massage her aching muscles for minutes or hours was the fact that she knew Marco needed a turn just as badly as she did, so she cut it short - by Star standards, anyway - and got dressed before giving Marco the all-clear.

Right as he finished, Angie called upstairs to inform everyone that dinner was ready, and Star followed her downstairs, famished from the afternoon’s high-octane physical activity. Marco joined while his parents were collecting the bowls in the kitchen, his hair still damp and glistening. Star giggled and poked at pieces matted to his face, brushing them aside. Without realizing it, her left hand lingered on his face, thumb idly rubbing circles on his cheek, while her right dropped to his chest and fiddled with the neck of his fresh t-shirt. She had no trouble admitting he was every kind of adorable - he was her boyfriend, after all, and she’d even thought he was cute long before she’d even figured out her feelings for him - but moments like this, where she got to just sit back and drink in every little detail that made her Marco Marco, crystallized it at the forefront of her mind until she could scarcely focus on anything else. His own hands caught and held hers as they just basked in the familiar tranquility of togetherness alone.

...until, that is, Rafael and Angie barged in from the kitchen with the stew he’d made for them tonight, smirking at the sight in front of them. “You two remind me a lot of us at your age, you know,” Angie cooed, setting the side dishes on the table. Earthni had tragically inherited some of Earth’s farming conditions, leading to a desperate shortage of corn in the winter. The frozen stuff was good, but it could just never be the same. The thought distracted Star enough to break the trance she had still been in before, and she finally separated from Marco and turned her full attention to the meal in front of her. “Well, except for all the breaking up and getting back together.”

Marco choked on the first bite he’d taken. “Wait, you two broke up a lot? Whaaa-”

“Long story, hijo,” Rafael cut him off, waving his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I am so glad to see the two of you fighting all the time! It’s wonderful to watch.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh-” Star and Marco stammered out in unison.

“What your father means to say, dear, is that the two of us spied on your little swordfighting session earlier. We even got some pictures! Who would’ve thought our Marco would be like an action movie hero someday?”

“Oh boy,” Marco flatly responded, burying his head in his hands. The rest of the dinner continued on in a silence that felt a bit tense as Angie and Rafael kept giving each other funny looks, as if trying to converse without words, but Star was far too hungry to pay attention to the details while she scarfed down two whole bowls of the old Mewnian stew that Rafael had taken a liking to cooking (albeit with his own flair, which made it far better by Star’s estimation).

Once they were all done, Angie glanced up at her husband inquisitively one final time, and he nodded. She seemed to take that as a cue for something, raising her eyebrows and staring at each of the teens in turn with motherly concern, clasping her hands together on the table. “Star, Marco… we noticed you two have been doing a lot of sparring lately. First, we want to say that we have absolutely no problem with you... sparring. You’re both very mature and responsible people for your age and I trust you can handle yourselves responsibly. But if and when you both decide to get more serious with sparring, make sure you’re properly protected, OK? That’s all we ask.”

“Sure thing, I still have closets full of armor at Eclipsa’s.” Star phrased it almost as a question, not sure what to make of the statement and why they seemed to cautious to talk about it and why she kept pausing on the word “sparring” and why they were still looking at her expectantly oh sweet Mewni you’re such an idiot, Star. She violently coughed, trying desperately not to hack up the meat and vegetables she’d inhaled, upon the realization of the implied meaning of the statement, but Marco seemed unfazed by it as he tried to ease her through the fit. Once they’d all settled down and he made sure Star was feeling OK after her seemingly inexplicable fit, Marco followed Rafael into the kitchen with the first batch of dishes.

Star stood up to follow them in, but Angie held up a hand to block her. “Star, honey… you did get what I was saying, righ-”

“Uh-huh, yep. Totally understood,” she blurted out, desperate not to dig that topic back up. She loved Marco’s parents, but that didn’t make this any easier. Angie’s eyes softened as she patted Star’s arm sympathetically. “Well, I’m not quite sure Marco did. Mind giving us a few minutes with him?”

“Yeah, sure.” She was more than OK with getting out of there as quickly as possible, shuffling upstairs before plopping on their bed and getting out the necessary tools and snack stash for tonight’s planned movie marathon of the new Mackie Hand. Why anyone thought a realistically animated remake of a live action movie was a good idea was beyond her, but it looked so stunningly awful that it was sure to deliver a few good laughs.

But her mind couldn’t put aside the after-dinner conversation for long, even with the warmth brought by the promise of bad movie night laughter, snacks, and cuddles awaiting her, and she unconsciously squirmed with a weird mix of embarrassment and worry despite no one being near. Would he feel the same way she did about this? They were no strangers to physical intimacy, even before they’d sealed the deal with their feelings, and it had certainly been flourishing in recent months. Star was far from shy about expressing physical attraction or affection, but recent events were her first experiences diving below the surface with anyone else. She wanted more of it, more of him. But there was a huge difference between just letting what felt right happen, and talking or even consciously thinking about it, and the latter most definitely wasn’t one of her strong suits.

“Star?” Marco’s voice cracked sheepishly as he peeked into the room. “You still, um, up for the movie?”

“Totally, totally, totally,” she pumped her voice full of enthusiasm to try and forcefully cut through the awkwardness preemptively. “TV’s set up, blanket is cozy, and Sizzlin’ Hot Cornritos are ready for snacking!”

He hopped into bed next to her, high-fiving her. “Tonight’s gonna be perfect.”

It didn’t take long for Star to drift over into his arms, cozying up as was tradition for Thursdates (or most other times, really), but something felt off. Still warm and affectionate, yet not going any further than that as she’d come to expect. Every smile or kiss was still met with one in turn, but his facial features strained slightly, holding back as though she was made of glass. She tried to pawn off her focus onto the movie, but it unfortunately turned out to be bad in the boring-slash-cringey way more than anything, a fact Marco lamented quite vocally at every opportunity, never failing to make Star roll her eyes. He was still her normal Marco in that way, at least.

Once the credits rolled, Star took the mental hype she’d been slowly building for herself during the entire course of the film to conquer her fears and speak up. “Hey Marco? About earlier…”

“Zzzzzzz...”

She suppressed a growl in her throat. It still miffed her that even just trying to talk about going further got stalled out, but she resigned herself to her inability to do anything about it now. In truth, she too was pretty worn out from the long day of training, so after turning off the TV and shoving everything away, she snuggled back under the blanket beside Marco and welcomed a comfy yet frustrated night of rest.

***

Heart, moon. Heart, moon. Heart, moon. The two remaining marshmallows danced in the leftover milk of the cereal bowl after Marco gobbled down a few diamonds and spades. Marco had already wondered whether buying Captain Blanche’s Cleave Crunch was such a great idea when he’d bought it - though some part of him was certainly flattered - but the regret he was feeling over it came from an unexpected place, just a reminder of his current restlessness. He’d felt like an absolute idiot after his mother had to explain what she meant at dinner a few days ago a second time, and he felt even worse that he’d completely avoided the issue with Star after. Maybe he was dense at times, but in hindsight it was obvious Star took the hint the first time, and neither had spoken up about it since. Finally he slurped down the remainder of his midnight snack and wandered back into the corridors of the temple, tired from the long day of dealing with Meteora alone while Star had girls’ night at Janna’s. How was he going to bring it up with Star? Every part of him wanted to talk to her, wanted to tell her how he felt, wanted… wanted more, with her. Too tired to stay awake, too lost in thought to sleep, his wallowing continued as he turned a corner- Bam!

Marco stumbled back after the unexpected collision, picking up the cereal bowl and groaning at the driblets of milk he couldn’t slurp that were now on his hoodie.

“Oh, dear! So sorry, Marco.” Eclipsa, clad in her usual pink pajamas helped steady him on his feet and took the bowl, sending it with Archibald to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, this needed washed anyway. Meteora spit all over it as I was trying to go to put her to sleep. She wasn’t sick or anything, she waited for me to turn my back and crawled out of her crib just to drool on it,” he griped, rubbing his temple.

She put her hand in front of her mouth to laugh, leading Marco out of the entryway and into the much more open dining room. “That’s my little girl. I do hope she wasn’t too much trouble. Deep down I think she’s coming around to you, slowly. Maybe Mariposa is rubbing off on her.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, rubbing his downcast eyes.

“Is everything alright, dear?”

“Can’t sleep… just got a lot on my mind.”

“Would you like to talk about it? I personally find it’s quite helpful to not go to bed with a stray concern, if at all possible.”

He finally glanced up from his shoes, meeting her sympathetic expression only momentarily before studying some nearby floor tiles. “It… might be kind of awkward.” She merely raised an eyebrow inquisitively. A sigh escaped his lips, knowing he probably didn’t have much of a choice - even if she didn’t press, he wouldn’t forgive himself for keeping this bottled inside even an hour longer. “It’s- well, it’s just- um, you see, the thing is… it’s Star awkward.”

“Ah,” she smirked knowingly. She located two of the finer armchairs from the periphery of the room and placed them opposite each other, beckoning Marco to join her. “I can handle awkward, dear. Do tell.”

“You’re sure?”

“I was a teenager in love myself, once upon a time,” she joked, causing the corner of his mouth to reflexively turn up. “It’s not always easy, and- well, let’s just say my mother wasn’t someone I could have easily gone to for my particular troubles. If being a listening ear can help lessen that burden for you, it would be my honor.”

A warmth spread through his chest at the words, ever grateful for the support. Even to this day, he felt a small pang of guilt that at some point he’d been incredibly distrustful of the woman, though he knew she didn’t hold that against him. In the time leading up to the Blood Moon Curse debacle, she’d been a nurturing shoulder to cry on, so he wasn’t sure why he was being so hesitant - perhaps it was just a thought spiral getting to him. “Things with Star are great, it’s not about that, it’s just- it’s been getting… serious, lately.” He stopped fidgeting with his hands and spared her a glance, noting that her body language was still passive and inviting him to continue. “Um… physically serious, I guess. Kind of. Not- not that, yet.”

“It’s not my place to judge, dear. You’re trying to figure things out for yourself, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

He nodded once quickly, mostly to reassure himself and spur himself onward. “It’s just… new to me. All of it.”

“So Star is the first girl you’ve gotten ‘serious’ with, then?”

The blush that had been steadily growing on his cheeks was burning now, but he soldiered on. “Well, yeah, she is, but it’s more than that. There was this one day at school a few years ago that everyone hated where they talked about puberty- um, basically human Mewberty, without any of the weird bug stuff,” he clarified upon seeing her confusion. “And they said that when it happens, you’ll start to have, uh, sexual feelings, but I never really did. It’s not like I didn’t know what those kind of feelings were or anything. But every crush I had, even with Star, wasn’t about that at all. Holding hands or kissing was nice, but I- I never really felt like I wanted anything more, if that makes sense. That was just normal Marco.”

Once more, his eyes darted upwards to meet hers, looking for some direction. Eclipsa had her hands folded on her lap, nodding along with his words. She took a moment, then clasped her hands together. “Mmmh. So what’s different?”

“The past month or two, it’s all caught up to me, I guess. Everything we do, even regular everyday stuff, just feels so much more intense, and I’ve never felt this way before, and then my mom gave me and Star a talk about it and it-it-it’s just so much all at once a-and I don’t want to screw anything up or hurt her-”

Eclipsa sprung out of the chair, closing the distance and pulling Marco into a warm embrace. “Oh, sweetie.” Marco’s attempts to stifle the incoming sob only made it worse, gasping for breath as the tears that had welled up in his eyes cascaded freely. “Shhh, it’s alright. It’s alright. I’m here, dear.” It was as though a dam had burst, letting loose all the tension and self-doubt he’d been pushing out of mind into the comforting shoulder. Even now, after so many wonderful months with the girl he loved more than anything, he still found a way to bury feelings until they bit him on the behind. Good one, Diaz, he sardonically remarked to himself. Once the waterworks dried up, Eclipsa stood back, pulling them both into a standing position. She wiped the last salty tear off his face with a somber yet calming grin. “You’re a kind, compassionate, and adoring young man, and you mean the entire world to Star. I’m afraid I can’t promise there will never be any hurdles, but I’m confident that you two can solve anything. Love is one of the most magical things in the entire universe; the fact that you're here is living proof, after all.”

“Thanks, Eclipsa. This is- it really means a lot. Thanks. And, um, speaking of love and magic… a few weeks ago, my cheekmarks - only mine - glowed one night while Star and I were, um… ‘getting serious’.” He rubbed the back of his neck as she softly chuckled. Somehow this was part of the conversation living up to the promise of awkwardness the most. “It wasn’t, um, the first time I started feeling like this, but it was definitely the first time it was strong enough to just hit me in the face. Literally,” he unintentionally jested.

Her smile widened immensely, bordering on teasing him. “When I was younger, Glossaryck fancied me more than most of his prior students, which led to the rather unfortunate situation of him striking up casual chats to gossip about queens. Plenty of information I had no desire whatsoever to know, and certainly a fair share of stories no living being needs to hear again, but I did learn that cheekmarks react more readily when emotions are both powerful and novel, so it doesn’t surprise me that yours would glow during such a moment. And as for Star’s…” He mentally flinched as she paused, preparing to answer the question even the darkest corner of his mind hadn’t dared ask.

“Everyone’s own relation to magic was a little bit unique, and you two are already a special case nowadays. Just be honest with her, dear. It’s the best way to sort it out, and all knowledge is good knowledge, you know. Even as a former magical queen, I truthfully can’t give you all the answers and figure out why Star’s hearts might not have reacted.” She hugged him one last time, and he was too dumbfounded to reciprocate before she started walking out of the room. As his mind began to process everything she said, her voice rang out once more from right at the entryway. “I am still a wise old woman with a bit of experience in this area myself, though,” she drawled with a wink and a finger tapping her cheek. “And if I knew anything about you two, I’d bet all the chocolate I own that it’s because Star has those same feelings, but they’re nowhere near new.”

***

“Hello? Anyone home?” Weird. Star strolled up and down the hallways and staircases of the Monster Temple, looking for any signs of life. As far as she knew Eclipsa and Globgor were only supposed to be gone yesterday while she was at Janna’s, and Marco hadn’t indicated he’d left yet even though his babysitting duties were presumably over. Kitchen? Nope. Dining room? Nuh-uh. Foyer? Even Archibald didn’t seem to be around. What the heck was going on?

She finally made her way through the winding route to her room, finding it empty as well and falling spreadeagle onto the bed, smacking the octopus on her dress directly into the silky sheets. Girls’ night had been a blast, but it left her restless. Hanging out with Janna and Ponyhead always threatened to deliver stressful experiences, but surprisingly it wasn’t even about that - she’d have welcomed the usual frustrating shenanigans to divert her mind from things. Unfortunately for her, however, the planets had aligned and put girls’ night at a peak among Pony and Seahorse’s rollercoaster of chronic breakups and public spectacles made out of getting back together, and Pony couldn’t wait to tell the world about every moment of their relationship. While Star was pretty sure no living being deserved to be subjected to the details therein, the forwardness in every part of their relationship still reminded her of the subject she’d been avoiding in her own, and had just left her impatient to get back to figuring out how to broach that topic with Marco.

The thud from her hitting the bed had gotten Marco’s attention from his room in a fresh grey t-shirt and dark jeans, hair ever-so-slightly damp. He took off his headphones and put down his laptop, opening the door. “Star? Is that you?”

“Eep!” Marco’s voice kicked her out of her reverie, causing her to launch off the bed and spring upwards, bouncing once on the mattress and falling back onto it facefirst. “M’ok!” she cried, muffled, into the mattress. He strode over to her bed, helping her up and sitting down next to her, giggling at the antics. Last night’s talk with Eclipsa had clarified a lot for him, but Star’s presence still uniquely made him feel at ease. “Not funny,” she pouted, but she broke composure soon enough as the laughter was too infectious to resist.

“How was the sleepover?” Marco asked as he let himself fall backwards onto the pillow. “Sounded like you were busy when you texted me earlier.”

Star shrugged and turned to face him. “Ponyhead is back with Seahorse.”

His eyes widened in terror. “Did she-” she nodded, causing him to shudder. “Oh no. Her last set of stories about that relationship gave me nightmares for a week. Never thought I could actually feel that bad for a soulless seahorse that’s probably a robot.”

She sighed, partly in agreement and partly at the continual reminders of their own situation needling her brain, and lay across his lap. “Despite everything, I think they somehow make each other happy, so good for them I guess? Anyway, we spent most of this afternoon cleaning up eyeball juice from Janna’s house- don’t ask,” she cut in before he could voice his concerns, “and I stopped a few times on the way here to get cleaned up, eat, and all that junk.” The last few words came out hurried as Star tried to shove the full story out of her mind. “Anyway, where is everyone? This whole place was empty when I got here.”

Marco sat up, his eyebrows furrowing in perplexion. “Wait, Eclipsa isn’t here? We picked fresh corn and had dinner, like, an hour ago, right after you texted me. Globgor’s elotes are amazing, by the way. Year-round corn and Mew-Mex cuisine is the best thing on Earthni.”

“Aww, if I’d have known would have just waited to eat. You wanted them all for yourself, didn’t you, mister?” She lightly punched him in the arm with a teasing smile, to which he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Still, I don’t remember her saying they were leaving or anything. Maybe I should call her-”

“Wait, Marco, look,” she pointed to his door, which had swung partially shut on its own, revealing a note posted to it. She stood up and walked over, reading it aloud after he sat back up to focus fully on her. “Dear Star and Marco, Meteora started teething and ate holes through most of her toys and even took a chunk out of her cradle. Globgor suggested taking her to the forest to chew on some stiff bark and get it out of her system. We’re staying with Moon and River tonight, it’s been far too long since we’ve had a good talk. As always, make yourselves at home. Ta-ta!” She walked back over to the bed. “Guess we have the place to ourselves. Aww, look, Marco! She drew a little cereal bowl here. She knows us so well.”

“Yeah. She does.” Marco choked down the lump that was steadily rising in his throat as he got a good look at the note himself. Eclipsa had left them alone, there was an incredibly exaggerated flair on her signature that underlined the word “talk”, and last night hadn’t even been the first cereal-adjacent conversation he’d had with Eclipsa about Star. The hint wouldn’t have been more obvious if the paper balled up into a fist and decked him on the spot. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. You got this, Marco. Legs curled up into himself, brown hair knotted up in his fingers, and breaths became audible. “Star?” he croaked out. “I- I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Yeah, um, I’ve been thinking too.” She bit her lip in concentration.

Marco fully turned on the bed to face her and she mirrored him. “About what my mom said?” he asked hesitantly. Star nodded tightly, focusing entirely on the rich brown pools shining into her own. She wanted to clear the air, no matter how awkward it might be, and the calming energy radiating from his own pushed her through. “Ugh, I feel so stupid for not bringing it up earlier-”

She clutched one of his hands sympathetically; now was not the time for him to get into one of these moods. “Marco, it’s not your fault! I didn’t either, and besides, it was only a few days ag-”

“No, it wasn’t.” His eyes closed, trying to achieve some sort of zen as the words shuffled themselves around in his mind, but the twitching of his free hand gave away his nervousness. “It- it wasn’t just a few days ago. That night, with my cheekmarks… it was the first time I’d felt something really strong, for you, thaaaat way…”

“Sexually.” Star completed the sentence calmly, clearing her mind and giving him space to talk. Marco nodded, but a split second later his eyes widened in realization of how she might be taking it.

“No- well, yes, b-but… what I mean is, ugh, I- it’s a me thing. Not you,” he stammered. “These types of feelings… it’s all new to me. Whenever I liked someone, I always just thought they were cool or pretty or adorable. Or all three,” he smirked, squeezing her hand. The last thing he wanted was for Star to think he had anything less than the utmost affection for her. “But I guess the more physical stuff just never clicked for me. I- I never really felt that way about anyone before, a-and I really enjoy it but it just freaked me out and I-I didn’t want it to be in the way-”

She planted her lips on his, initially meant to just be a peck, but lingered momentarily before pulling away. It always seemed to be this song and dance between them, putting their concern for the other over their own, but she was determined not to let him sink into that mire again. “Marco… it’s OK to feel that way about me, I want you to. I feel the same about you.”

Both his hands tentatively took hold of hers. “Do you want to… go further?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I- it’s all still new to me, I haven’t done anything like this before, but I really do, Star.”

“Same. Let’s just go with the flow and see what happens. No pressure.”

“No pressure,” he repeated softly, heart doing backflips in his chest. Star tugged him forward, pecking him gently as their night began.

***

“Is this weird?” she said many minutes later, pausing to appreciate their current situation before they crossed the final threshold together.

“Maybe a little,” he responded, leaning forward and kissing her sweetly. “But I love it.”

The strings of tension in her body all thrummed with warmth as the remaining jitters started to melt away. “I love you, Marco.” It was a refrain uttered casually between them these days - though they certainly meant it each time - but now it felt as though her entire body poured every emotion she had into that one expression.

“Love you too, Star,” he responded much the same before they closed the gap together, lips performing an intimate dance moving as one. The rest of their bodies followed suit and collided confidently, the mix of wild lust and bashful hesitance giving way to something new. A soft light became visible through their closed eyelids, and they separated, eyes widening at the sight. Two hearts and two moons emitting a pink glow in unison. They brightly grinned at each other, tracing the outlines of the marks on each others’ cheeks with their fingers, fully embracing the essential truth of their unbridled devotion to one another in mind, body, and soul, ready to follow their passion to its finality.

***

“So… that was something,” he uttered.

“Sure was,” she fondly smiled at her love, the sunken eyebrows and heavy lids framing his gaze emanating an aura laden with tender love. “This is nice. So what now?”

A rumbling in his stomach answered the question for him “...I’m kind of hungry already.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’ll make nachos and you find a movie?”

“You know me too well, Mr. Diaz,” she sighed, holding him tighter. “But, um, we should probably get cleaned up.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “It’s kind of cold. And sweaty. Maybe we should stay in my room tonight.”

“Guess naked cuddles aren’t always all they’re cracked up to be. A shower sounds really good right now,” she tittered, committing one last snapshot to memory before standing up on the floor and stretching her tired limbs. A hand intertwined itself with hers, stopping her from walking away.

“Mind if I join you? J-Just to shower…” he floundered, but she understood. Neither were up for continuing, but they still didn’t want this newfound intimacy to end.

Nothing more was said as the pair went hand-in-hand, wholly alone together. The bedroom light was the sole beacon lighting up the Monster Temple’s mountain, a pinprick glow joining the shining stars in the Earthni heavens above.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #tgg svtfoe #fanfic

183 notes · View notes

nightblogofficialbook · 6 years

Text

Chapter Three

Also available on the Tapas.io Website, search for Night in the Novels tab!

I don’t know when it was I fell asleep but I must have slept for an entire day because it was already morning again. I turned over, my body feeling heavy but not terrible and my mouth dry and sticky. When I opened my eyes, for a moment I didn’t know where I was. This wasn’t my room. This was too big to be my room. None of my things are here either, and mom would have definitely woken me up before this point.

And then my memory returned, much to my severe disappointment.

I sat up, my hair feeling like a nest on my head, and stretched. That strange tugging sensation made itself known and then grew idle. I sat on the bed for a long while, trying to muster the energy to get up. It was then I noticed a piece of paper sitting in front of my door, having been slid under while I slept probably.

The curiosity worked and I got up to get it, remembering that Rose and Co. still wanted to show me around. I unfolded it.

‘Hey Helen! It’s Rose. I figured you were probably still asleep so we didn’t want to bother you. But I wanted to explain to you briefly how this place works on a day-to-day basis, in case we’re not on break when you wake up. During the weekdays we have a course schedule, and yes, just like school :P Since you’ve never experienced any of this before they want us to have you kinda shadow us for all the classes so you can get some experience, and then when it’s all said and done you’ll be able to pick your own schedule. On the other side of this fold will be all of our schedule and times, and a map if you feel like trying to find us. If not, break periods for us are listed too, so you can just wait in the commons until one of us comes to check on you.’

I blinked. ...Class? Like, school classes? I turned the page over like the note said. A chart was drawn really neatly and concise of each girl’s name and their classes, in order by time. I glanced over at the digital clock on the bedside table. Looks like no one will be back until fifteen minutes from now.

Still feeling...off guard, I got up and went to the bathroom to address the state of my hair. I’ve always been kind of a sleep tosser but I guess last night I really thrashed about. Using the tools already in my bathroom I carefully combed the tangles out of my hair and flattened the morning frizz with a straight iron. The kitty cat pajama tank had my shoulder on full display in the mirror, and for the first time in...I guess only a day, it felt like ages, I was able to see to what extend the damage was.

The bite on my neck was all but gone, only a lingering redness now remained from where that guy, Zain, had bit me. I was amazed at how quickly it was healed, especially for how much I bled.

Ugh, blood.

The brief nausea passed, and I examined the next mark: a now-silver welted crescent scar that sat right between my collarbone and shoulder. I traced it for a moment in shock and a little bit of morbid fascination. It still throbbed a bit, but significantly less. This...was the bite that started this. The one that changed my life. I wonder why it was a crescent and not fang marks, like the other had been? It looked more like someone with human teeth had bit me. I looked closer at it, the shape showing irregularities to it. About where the canines would be on a human bite mark, defined a little more than the rest of the shape, were almost definitely two fang-mark scars set within the rest of the scar.

I shuddered. To bite down with a force that strong...I’m really glad I passed out for that. Maybe that was why I passed out.

After changing into some relaxed day clothes that were available to me I went downstairs to the commons, feeling like I’m on some sort of rich-kid summer camp trip. It was quiet but brightly lit from the sunlight pouring through narrow windows down the rounded walls, the outside just starting to reach the afternoon. Feeling awkward I made my way to the kitchenette area and perused through the cabinets and fridge, looking for something to eat. I opted for snacking on some cheese and saltine crackers, since the rest looked like they belonged to someone or required cooking of some kind, and I didn’t feel comfortable doing that just yet.

The door clicked and in walked Claire, who gave a start of pleasant surprise when she spotted me. “Helen! You’re awake!” She closed the door behind her, smiling. “Good morning! You were out a while, you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I actually felt pretty rested when I woke up, thanks for letting me sleep.”

“Yeah, cool.” She set her bag down and grabbed the box of goldfish cheese crackers I had passed over from the cabinet. “You get Rose’s letter by chance?”

I nodded. “If I understand right, I’ll be attending classes with you guys?”

“Yeah, it’ll just be for a couple of weeks to help you get used to being in the castle, then you’ll be able to decide what you want to do on your own. Cool thing is, nothing is mandatory.” She grinned, sitting down with the box. “You could just decide you don’t want to go to any of them in the end and chill all day.”

“Wha-really? Then why even bother?”

“Well, a lot of it is still really useful to learn, but mostly because of the perk points.”

“Perk points?”

She nodded, taking a handful of crackers and munching them. “Yeah, you get points based on attendance for class and bonus points for how well you do in them. Vampires get them too. They have a catalog for stuff you get in exchange for them, like new clothes or toys or games or extra snacks.” She shook the box of goldfish. “I like to spend mine on these, though I’m saving up the bulk of them for the excursion trip next spring. We’ll take you to go get your card set up and stuff and you’ll be able to look at the point system, but essentially the more valuable or the less ‘healthy,’” she used air quotes with an eye roll, “an item is, the more points it will cost. And vice versa, the more challenging a class is for you, the more points you get for it.”

“That actually sounds really cool,” I said, amazed.

“I know right? From what I hear about how schools are still done on the outside it’s WAY more awesome.” She glanced at her watch. “Alright, we should probably go head out to my next class, after that all of us have the same dancing class so we’ll trade you off after THAT class, and you’ll have just one more for the day with us.”

My head spun a little, not quite following what she said but I got the jist of it. She grabbed her bag and I followed her through the door into the open hallway of the castle. A fresh breeze drifted from the direction Claire was leading me, and almost as suddenly as we had left the dorm we were outside in open air.

The weather felt wonderful, the deep blue sky spotted with slowly drifting, fluffy clouds, blinking the sunlight in and out every now and then. The temperature was warm and comfortable, not at all like the summer heat it had been for the last month. And there were people. Everywhere. Mostly teens my age, but also adults. Children. I think I even saw a few babies. I was amazed, I never realized how big this place might be. It was like a whole village.

I watched the people pass me by as I followed Claire across the giant square courtyard I had observed just yesterday. Some were having a picnic complete with tablecloth, food, and family. Some were, like us, walking towards a destination in mind, and some were just playing games. It was how I always imagined a college campus would look like, all it was missing was the drunk frat boys and dumb shenanigans.

A wonder crossed my mind after we crossed the courtyard and into a different section of the castle. “Where are the vampires?” I asked.

“They’re asleep, they usually keep to a night habit like the myths used to say. But not all of them,” she added as a young guy with red eyes waved as he passed us, flashing a friendly-fanged smile. Claire waved back with a “hey Greg.”

“But for the most part they do vampire classes at night anyway,” she continued as we stepped into a classroom. “And usually in the other half of the castle. It helps keep traffic in the halls down so things don’t ever get overcrowded and stressful, and to keep some from getting too stressed out by the abundance of human smells.”

We sat down at desks and I was surprised about how...normal it was. It was just a math class, same as the one I failed a few days ago, only this teacher seemed pretty enthused. She talked over the coursework with passion, answering any questions that were asked and even re-explained some things in an easier to digest manner. I found I was able to follow along really well despite having to jump in the middle of a learning section.

Claire, on the other hand, looked like she was struggling to keep up, and hard. She was bent over her practice worksheet, looking relaxed but frustrated. I thought about asking her why she was taking the class if it was that hard on her, but then remembered how she explained the points, and her goal. I silently nodded to myself at the ingenious system they have here. It was a good way to motivate everyone to have a goal, and work towards it, but without forcing anyone to overstress about it.

And hour and a half had come and gone since we sat down, and class was dismissed. Claire stretched and groaned as we walked out.

“Man, I am so not good at math,” she said.

“Me neither, but that teacher was really good.”

“I know right? They don’t let anyone teach if they’re not up for the task. Anyway, I forgot about lunch between now and the next class, and…” she suddenly looked as if she was having an epiphany. “Oh yeah lunch! Dude!” She grabbed my shoulders excitedly. “You gotta see the food court they have here!”

My eyes widened and her excitement rubbed off. “They have a food court?”

…

They have a food court.

And it was incredible.

IMMEDIATELY, once I walked to the vicinity of its existence, I was hit by a myriad of delicious freshly cooked food smells. I’m talking bakeries, skillet cooks, sandwich bars, BBQ, breakfast food, lunch, italian, asian, and everything in between. I could hardly believe my eyes. I could hardly believe my nose. It was like there was a food festival going on.

Claire grinned at my expression. “Pretty cool, huh?” she nudged me.

“Claire…” I said, flabbergasted still. “Oh my god. I want to cry.” She laughed and took my hand, taking me to all of the booths and mini restaurant bars. Each one seemed to know her on a personal level, and, as she explained that I was new, free sample after free sample began to fill my tray.

“This is so much food,” I said in amazement.

“Yeah, I’ll be honest, I’m kinda pimping you out,” she admitted sheepishly as we headed for a table. “Normally you’re only allowed up to 2 free servings per mealtime, and any more is a point exchange.”

“Well, it worked,” I said, still incredulous. “Glad to be of help.”

“Helen! Claire! Over here!”

Rose was flagging us down; the twins and Wendy were already seated with her, in addition to a few people I haven’t met yet. We joined them at the table.

“Helen, this is Mike and this is Jason, they’re childhood friends of ours. Guys, this is Helen.”

Mike, who had short black hair and a shallow jawline and fair skin, gave a polite wave. Jason, who was far less reserved with bronzy-blonde hair, brown eyes, and a fairly strong jaw and nose, gave me a friendly lopsided smile and a look of interest.

“Um, hi,” I said nervously, sitting down next to Claire with my huge tray of food.

“Introductions later, it’s food time,” Claire said, excitedly picking out a sample from our haul.

I tasted as much as the food as I could, and shared the rest. Everyone chatted about their day so far and classes they were in and I politely listened, feeling a little happy. No, that’s not right. I was feeling a lot of happy. Everything was bright, and light, and friendly. Everyone was open and relaxed and feeling good. The tension I had been holding in my shoulders released.

And then suddenly something hot and soupy was dumped over the top of my head and into my lap. Claire leapt out of the way to avoid the splash, everyone else jumped in shock. I sat still, trying to process why there was suddenly chicken broth all over me.

“Oops,” spoke girl’s bored voice. Everyone’s eyes widened when they saw who stood behind me. I turned around.

She stood to be roughly my height with dark blonde hair pulled back in a bun, her blue eyes piercing cold and her expression haughty. She very clearly was holding an empty bowl, still over my head. I blinked.

“Sorry,” she said in the most uncaring manner possible. “Sometimes I don’t quite pay attention to where I’m going and things just…” Her eyes grew cold and vicious, reminding very much of Zain’s, and with a jolt I recognized her. “...happen, you see. But, I’m sure YOU, of all people, would understand, wouldn’t you Helen?”

“Hey, look, I-”

“Well,” she interrupted, ignoring me and addressing the entourage of people who were snickering behind her. “I supposed I should try to get more soup. I do hope they understand the little accident.”

“Oh, of course, Lady Victoria!”

“It was an accident after all.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“You can have mine, M’lady, if they can’t make an exception!”

“Thanks, guys,” she cooed to her little group as they left. “You’re the best.”

I sat there, dumbfounded, as they walked away, and turned back forward.

“...what just happened to me?”

“You got souped apparently,” Claire chimed, to which Rose reprimanded her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help you get cleaned up, we can skip the next class if we need to,” Rose offered. I shook my head.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go get cleaned up and meet you guys there,” I said, my voice surprisingly normal considering I was drenched.

Claire looked at me in surprise. “You sure?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I have a map, and I’m surprisingly good with directions.” Except apparently when I’m in a hurry, I thought blandly to myself.

“If you’re certain…” Rose said, uncertain. “The next class is on the same floor, in the east ward across from this one. There’s four doors to enter from so it shouldn’t be hard to find as long as you make it to the right section.”

I thanked her and stood up, saying bye to Mark and Jason. They offered words of encouragement and good luck with cleaning up. Pulling out the map(which miraculously avoided getting souped as well) and going by what I remembered seeing on the way here I traced my way back to the dorms. Everyone I passed stared and muttered to themselves, some with pity, some with wonder. I couldn’t blame them for it, since I’d probably end up doing the same thing, and did my best to ignore it.

After a successful shower and change of clothes, it was now four o’clock, about fifteen minutes past when that class was supposed to start. I made my way across the courtyard to the ward across from the lunch area, now wishing I had eaten maybe just a little bit more and debating on whether I should even show up. The sun was in the second half of the sky, and by now majority of everyone out and about had gone back to wherever their own dorms were. It was crazy how many people actually live here.

I found the four doors Rose was talking about and heard music inside. Confused, I looked at the written schedule she had given. “No…” I opened the door, suddenly remembering with dread a small detail Claire had mentioned before.

Inside was a very large convention-style room, chairs stacked high against the wall. A large amount of people were scattered out in pairs, observing the teacher as he demonstrated what almost looked like a waltz with no partner.

Dancing. Great, just great...my stomach dropped, and as it did the subtle pulling sensation heightened.

The door slammed shut behind me before I could catch it and suddenly all eyes were on me. I flinched, feeling extremely embarrassed. “Sorry…”

“Not at all!” the teacher enthused. “Come in, come in! You must be Miss Morris.”

I sheepishly made my way to the edge of the wall out of the way but still in view, suddenly very aware of the fact that about 50% of the pairs of eyes still on me were red. I swallowed nervously.

“Alright, now I want everyone to try, on my count. Remember, you’re not looking for speed, you’re looking for precision. Make every move count until it becomes second nature. Now, one-two-three, one-two-three…” he flicked a finger in the air and suddenly music was playing.

I watched everyone try the steps, spotting the girls pretty quickly as they were having the most fun. Rose was paired up with Jason from before, Suzanne and Alice had decided to dance with each other -which made their synchronization so perfect it was almost creepy- and Claire was dancing with Wendy. Feet were stepped on, laughter was heard, partners were bumped into, it was an amusing scene. I smiled a little to myself, wishing I could join them.

I let my gaze wander around as the teacher also wandered amongst the dancers, giving form advice and praise as he passed them. I was amazed at how many vampires were here, considering it wasn’t really after dark just yet. Most were paired up with their own kind, but some had paired up with humans, a little to my surprise. And it looked like everyone was having fun.

“Hello Helen,” the teacher’s voice drew my attention to him; he had made his way over to where I stood, quietly addressing me. “May I call you that?” he asked sincerely.

“Sure?” I replied. He was pretty young looking for someone in charge of teaching a class, I would guess maybe super early twenties. His eyes were a deep hazel that seemed to change colors under different light angles, from blue to green to brown, and somehow all of the colors. His skin was fair and soft, his hair a short sandy brown that reminded me of some popular british actor I remember people fawning over. He was pretty attractive for sure, but something was strangely familiar about him.

“Excellent.” He looked relieved. “Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Dmitri. Some of my students call me ‘D’ but whether that be your preference to refer to me is entirely up to you.”

“Thanks, it’s nice to meet you.”

“And likewise you. Now, I understand that you are quite new to the castle, and that today is your first day during your adjustment period, so by all means don’t feel obligated to join right away if you don’t feel comfortable. We have a bit of an odd number currently so there would be no problems if you wish to sit out for now. But, if you do wish to join in, I would have no problems getting you up to speed.”

“U-um, thanks,” I replied, grateful for the extended invitation and surprised at how quickly he seemed to understand. “I think I’ll pass this time around...since there’s an odd number and all.”

He chuckled a little. “Not too fond of dancing?”

I grimaced. “How did you know?”

“I have been teaching dance for quite a while now, I can tell. I imagine you feel your skills are quite inadequate to even attempt the practice.”

“That’s an understatement,” I joked, feeling strangely relaxed around him. “My mom tried to get me into dancing for a while. I accidently broke the instructors foot once.” He laughed softly and I smiled a little. “She politely requested that I try out other hobbies after that.”

He looked outward, observing the dancing pairs in front of us. “Well, I won’t force you if you truly don’t want to dance, but if you ever feel interested, I would gladly be up for the challenge.”

He went back out to address a couple that had fallen over, helping them to their feet and explaining to them what had gone wrong. I smiled a little, feeling a little fuzzy inside, like I just gained a big brother. Dmitri seemed really sweet. The pessimism in my brain made me really hope he didn’t turn out to just have been flirting with an underage girl though. It didn’t seem that way, but...I’ve been wrong about people before.

Suddenly there was a strangely violent tug in the pit of my gut towards a single direction in the room. I looked up in surprise, holding my sides despite the fact that there really wasn’t an obvious origin to this sensation, and stiffened. One couple was dancing through the sea of everyone like wind through trees, effortlessly making every single person in this room look like stumbling baby deer. Their legs moved with practiced elegance, as easy as if it were breathing, their eyes almost bored and in another world. Zain and Victoria.

My stomach clenched with guilt and a twinge of jealousy. They looked good together. Perfect for eachother, I thought bitterly, remembering Zain’s childish aggression and Victoria’s stunt from today. Their skills looked matched, and though they seemed bored in this classroom environment, they looked relaxed. Comfortable.

Zain’s eyes darted my way and I looked down instinctively, my heart pounding for a moment, and then felt bitterness replace my emotions. It should have been her. I shouldn’t have ever been involved. Why did I end up at that clearing? Why did he have to bite me?

I heard a quiet tch! and looked up with just my eyes. The two had slowed to a stop, Zain’s face furrowed in frustration.

“What is it?” I heard Victoria ask, worried.

“It’s nothing,” he responded in a low voice.

Her eyes darted to me and I pretended to be watching the other people.

“Is it her?”

He gave her a small smile and stroked her cheek; a sharp pang hit my chest for a moment. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

She still looked worried. “Okay.” Her eyes narrowed furiously towards me soon as he looked elsewhere. I pretended not to have noticed but I could feel the daggers emanating from her.

“Alright, I think that’ll wrap things up today!” Dmitri called out, clapping his hands. The music fades out and everyone gathered up any bags and things they had brought. He waved his hands and suddenly all of the chairs stacked against the walls unstacked and arranged themselves in the space everyone was just occupying. “Next class we’ll do a few more practice motions, and then try out partner changes. I look forward to seeing you all again.”

“Helen!”

The girls and Jason came over to me excitedly. The fact that I just saw legit magic fell to the back of my mind as I smiled a little at them.

“You made it!” Rose exclaimed. “We saw you talking to Dmitri, what did you think?”

“Dancing...really isn’t my thing,” I admitted carefully. “I’ve never been very good with the whole foot-body coordination thing.”

“She actually meant about D,” Claire snickered.

“I was talking about the class too,” Rose blushed slightly.

I thought for a moment. “He seems...pretty nice I guess. I mean, I just met him, at least I’ve gotten to know you guys for a bit.”

“Yeah, D is pretty chill,” Jason commented as we walked out of the room. I felt that elastic cord-feeling tug at me again and glanced back a moment, distracted by seeing Zain and Dmitri talking. Victoria wasn’t anywhere, I guess she had already left. The sight of the two felt vaguely familiar again, though.

“And take it from me,” Claire continue to speak, and I realized I had missed part of the conversation. “Dmitri is a SUPER good guy. He’s actually the one I told you about that saved me from my stupid aunt and uncle.”

“Wait what?” I asked, confused. “I thought you said that it was a vampire who took you.”

“Yeah, that was Dmitri,” she said. “It was his first time travelling with the embassy he said, I think.”

I looked back, but we had already gone out of sight, and then tried to collect my thoughts. “But...he...his eyes were…?”

“Ohhhhh right right right, I forgot about that,” Claire clapped in realization. “Yeah, vampires don’t ACTUALLY have red eyes, they just turn that color when they’re stressed out. Something something biology makes them turn red but they actually have fairly normal eye colors, for the most part.”

“It has to do with the way cortisol affects their system,” Alice spoke up. “They’re pretty human-based to begin with, so there's a lot of similarities, but there’s a chemical in their irises that causes it to glow red with the presence of stress hormones.”

“It used to be because they were always stressed when hungry,” Claire added. “That’s why it’s a pretty common addition to the myth. Also pretty scary.”

“But now it’s just because they have anxiety like the rest of us,” Suzanne finished.

“But...everyone’s eyes are red?”

“Well yeah, duh,” Claire smirked amusedly. “The heir and leader of their home was supposed to be bonded with a chosen Bride to solidify their strengths and safety, but something happened and word has spread that some rando is now the Bride.”

“They feel their future is uncertain,” Rose explained gently. “Humans, too. No one knows anything about you or what benefit or detriment you might bring.”

Jason stopped. “Hold on, wait…” He stared at me, his expression stiff. “You’re the…?”

“Oh shoot,” Rose swore. “I didn’t want to say anything yet, I’m sorry Jason.”

“It’s okay, I just…” he shook his head. “Damn…”

“U-um,” I started awkwardly. “Is that bad?”

“No, I just didn’t want it to be spread around just yet,” Rose admitted sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure you were comfortable first. I figured it would be awkward for you if everyone suddenly tried to avoid you and address you as ‘Lady’ and ‘ma’am’ and so on.”

“Do you...want to be addressed that way?” Jason asked nervously.

“Oh, god no,” I assured him quickly, and remembered Dmitri asking if my name was okay. “Please, Helen is just fine.”

He relaxed, relieved. “Lady Victoria all but demands everyone refer to her as Lady Victoria.”

“I’m definitely not doing that,” I grumbled. “Not after what she did today. I mean, I understand where’s she coming from but…”

They glanced at each other with worry, and I could tell they had something to say but didn’t want to say it.

I sighed. “Anyway, about Dmitri and the vampire eye thing.”

“Right,” Claire shuffled. “Um, that was probably it, honestly. Vampire’s look like people except when they’re stressed.”

“And they’re all scared of me,” I joked a little. They laughed a bit.

“Give it a few weeks,” Rose assured. “Everyone will have calmed down again. Your arrival shouldn’t effect Lord Zain’s ability to run the castle.”

“That reminds me,” I said, “how does age work for vampires? He looks like he’s our age. And Dmitri looked pretty young, too.”

“They’re about how they appear to be,” Rose explained. “Lord Zain is seventeen I think, Dmitri is...twenty-five?” My eyebrows lifted. “The ones who are born will age the same way humans do, just a little bit slower.”

“They stop aging when they reach about Dmitri’s age,” Alice chimed “At that point the body just doesn’t need to grow anymore.”

“And then they live foreeeeeever,” Claire added dramatically.

“Except the ones who are made,” Suzanne said sadly. “They’re stuck at whatever age they turned. Their bodies freeze in time, but their mind will continue to deteriorate.”

I swallowed. “So then...are most vampires born?”

“Mostly. Accidents can...happen though,” Rose admitted.

“That’s why they don’t let vampires do any biting,” Claire said. “The ones that turn usually have this weird desire to create more vampires, which would be a problem, and you have to basically drink vampire blood and die in order to turn, so keeping them away during feeding times prevents that.”

“Will...will I ever be turned?”

“Bride are a little different,” Rose responded this time. “You’d have to want to turn in order for it to work, because of the mutual agreement the bond creates between human and vampire, otherwise you’d probably just...die. And you’d be different than a turned vampire, because your partner would still be able to feed from you.”

“It’s not really a necessary procedure,” Alice added, “so I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”

My head spun. This was a lot of information to process. “Wait, one more question, if vampires live forever, what about the human Brides?”

“You’ll live forever too,” Alice answered simply. “It would be bad if their only food source died of old age. It’s part of the changes that now allow you to choose to become a vampire if you wanted it.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like you’re half vampire!” Claire joked, and my chest tightened. Half vampire...I put my hand on my shoulder again where the bite mark still twinged every now and then.

Everyone split up at the edge of the center courtyard, Claire and twins heading back to the dorm, Jason heading back to his, and Rose going to her class. I was scheduled to follow Wendy next.

“This way,” she spoke, her voice soft and quiet like a whisper.

I followed, feeling awkward as I realized that this was probably the first time I’ve heard her speak. She was extremely reserved and somewhat nervous, every so often fidgeting with her fingers and not looking up anywhere. I wasn’t sure if it was because of me or if she was just...like that. I sympathized though. Up till now it was easy to borrow off of everyone’s energies to relax and adjust. The presence of her anxiety, though, kind of kept mine at bay.

“So, we’re going to...whoa, Horse Care and Management, whaaat?” I tried to give a friendly smile. “There are horses here??”

She nodded. “Yeah. They’re very gentle creatures, and understanding. I like them.”

I stared off in the distance with a small grin as we walked down an open stone hallway and away from the castle, feeling just a little excited now all on my own. I had never been on a horse, or near one for that matter. Wendy’s cheeks swelled as she smiled, and it seemed like she relaxed a little more. The stables came into view as we rounded the corner and the stone floors turned into a dirt path. The smell of fresh barnhouse and hay wafted through the air, growing bolder as we got closer.

Not many people showed up for this class, it seemed. In fact, as far as I could tell at least, it was mostly vampires here. A girl no older than us was currently setting out harnesses and saddles, wearing heavy duty working gloves and clothing, with a red bandana around her neck and a wide straw sun hat. She greeted us when we approached, then beamed at Wendy.

“Hey! Good afternoon, glad ya guys can make it!” She gave a wide grin. “Looks like some newcomers today, Welcome! I’m Amber, I’m kinda second-in-command runnin’ the stables here with my ma and her sisters, I’ll be teaching ya guys all about horses!”

“Last week I got most of ya introduced to the residents here, so today we’re gonna learn the proper ways to clean the equipment. It’s easy enough, but ya gotta do it right or the leather will get too hard, or just not clean at all. And if you don’t clean it well, ‘specially the reins and the bit, you can get the horses sick and we don’ want that.” She went through the proper techniques for getting started and had everyone start a piece of equipment. “Newbies follow me for a sec,” she called out, and to my surprise I wasn’t the only new person.

“Hey,” a young vampire guy, eyes still red, greeted me shyly after we followed Amber and then were told to wait. “You new to this class too?”

“Uh, yeah,” I responded, feeling just a tad awkward.

He smiled forward nervously as we waited for Amber to come back, running a hand across the back of his neck. He looked a bit older than me, his skin dark and his body pretty lanky and tall. Like, a whole-head-taller-than-me tall.

“I’ve never even been around one of these things before,” he admitted after a few seconds of silence.

“Me neither,” I said, deciding to try and make small talk at least. “I’ve always wanted to though, they looked pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and then stuck his hand out. “I’m Adrian, by the way.”

“Helen,” I replied automatically, shaking his hand.

“Helen huh,” he laughed nervously. “That funny, I think that’s the same name as that girl from outside the castle.

“Yeah,” I responded nervously, unsure whether to say anything about that. “Pretty...pretty interesting.”

Luckily Amber had already come back, leading a tall chestnut color horse. It had a white kite shape mark that spanned from it’s forehead down to its nose.

“This is Bitey,” Rose said, and Adrian stiffened next to me. “Don’t let the name fool ya, he used to be chomper when he was little but he’s quite behaved now. C’mon over and say hello!”

We both hesitated for just a moment, and then I stepped forward, feeling a little excited. The horse’s ears swiveled my way as I came up to it from the side, and he turned his head towards me.

“Hold yer hand out, fingers down,” Rose instructed gently. Behind me Adrian watched carefully as I did as told. The horse balked back a little, and then stretched out to sniff my hand. After a few seconds I reached forward to pet its muzzle. Adrian let out a breath of relief behind me.

“Now, horses are very sensitive animals, they can pick up on yer feelings pretty quick,” she said as Adrian worked up enough courage to come up beside me to also pet the horse. “They can be pretty skittish themselves, so it’s very important that ya introduce yourself properly.”

She had us step away after a moment of petting to demonstrate. “Ya always want to try and approach from a diagonal and make sure they can see ya. Cuz if ya watch him,” she stood at a severe angle from the back, “see his ears? They’re swiveled back cuz he knows I’m back here but he can’t see me. And if walk closer now,” she did, and he stepped away from her. “he’ll back up. It’s pretty nerve-wracking to have someone come up from where you don’t see em. That’s why it’s also a good idea to make sure you talk to em too. That way they can hear you and you don’t sneak up on em. NEVER sneak up on a horse unless you wanna get kicked in the teeth.”

Amber continued to explain how to approach and be around horses, how to present yourself, what to do if a horse charges at you, and had us practice approaching conduct correctly with Bitey. The whole time Adrian was very nervous, which I found just a little funny, all things considered; he could probably and easily take this animal down. It was a little alarming even. But then again...I hadn’t actually seen any proof that vampires have super strength or anything, I’ve just sort of assumed. A small spark of guilt set in my chest as I realized that...they really might be just like humans. Just people with different survival needs.

After a bit more practice she then had us rejoin the rest of the class to learn how to clean the tack, giving us the bit and saddle that Bitey had on. I went back to Wendy, who smiled at me and looked very relaxed and content. She was already drying off her piece of tack and had a couple bottles of some sort of leather oil.

The last half of the class was spent learning how to properly dry and oil the leather to help preserve its reliability, and just as the sun began to set everything was wrapped up and put away. I walked back with Wendy feeling strangely accomplished.

“That was...really cool!” I exclaimed with elation. Wendy nodded, smiling happily and quietly. “Like, never did I ever even think I would get to do something like that, not without paying a LOT of money.”

“It’s my favorite class,” she smiled quietly. “The horses really understand.”

I nodded, and remembered the vampire I had pet Bitey with, Adrian, and remembered how nervous he seemed but also how friendly. The horse wasn’t afraid of him, and prey animals are usually good at sensing predators. I thought about Dmitri, who I had no idea was a vampire, who wanted to make sure I felt comfortable with where I was. I thought about everyone I had met today, unable to help but compare it to how my life was before and how the people I had to deal with before. Against my inner denial about this whole situation, this...didn’t seem so bad so far. This actually felt...better.

We made it back to the dorms uninterrupted and I told everyone I was going to go ahead and turn in for the night, feeling exhausted. The gibbous moon had risen high enough already to cast some light in my darkened room, but I turned on a lamp anyway. The ambient lighting combined felt cozy and warm, but my room still felt too big, too open. Absentmindedly I walked to the window and opened it, then realized it had a balcony and climbed out onto it.

The night was pleasantly crisp for summertime. The sky was clear and bright as the moon’s light was cast down upon the world. Out ahead of me lay a sea of trees, and just beyond that were islands of houses. Neighborhoods. If I stared hard enough, I could almost spot the neighborhood I live in. Lived in. I breathed in and let out a sigh as I leaned against the railing, my mind debating with itself.

I shouldn’t be here. I should be at home. I should be helping mom get dinner ready, calling Emily to help her with homework. Sleeping in our run-down cozy house. Dealing with the same idiots entering the same society as me. I’m already starting to forget I’ve been kidnapped; this sense of open freedom is wrong, it’s a lie.

I looked down. It was only two, maybe three stories between here and the ground, and maybe only fifty meters between the castle and the surrounding wall. I could sneak away. I could do the bedsheet thing, anchor to the railing and then try to latch it to the decorations that topped the wall. I could go home, and try to ignore everything, pretend it was all just a bad dream.

Something lurched in my center, violently yanking at some core within me in an up-and-backwards direction. It was almost painful except for the fact that it didn’t feel real, didn’t feel tangible. I grabbed the railing to brace and support myself, my lips pressed tight in bitterness. That sensation continued to pull at me, almost like it was begging me to follow it. To follow it back to the one who bit me.

There would be no escaping that. There’s no undoing it, it would always be there. Following me, everywhere I go, no matter how far I would go. And he could probably follow it back to me. They’d find me, maybe even hurt my mom, maybe even go after Emily, and they would bring me back.

I sunk to my knees on the balcony, leaning my forehead against the railing as tears slowly filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I had fun today. Today hadn’t been bad at all. Sure, I got soup dumped on me, but that was just one incident. Everyone was nice. I wasn’t caged, I wasn’t supervised. I was even allowed to make my way back to the dorms, all on my own. It was only the second day since I arrived. I could have gone somewhere else entirely. But I didn’t. Because being here today has been better than any other day in my entire life. I didn’t want to be here. But I wanted to be here.

“What’s wrong with me…?” I whispered out loud.

I don’t remember ever going back inside, but when I woke up I was in my bed. It was still dark out, the clock read just past 1 a.m. I sat up, still in the clothes I had changed into. I tucked my knees to my chest and sat there for a moment. My cheeks were sticky where my tears had dried.

The strange tugging sensation gave a nudge, not as violently as earlier, but subtly. As if giving me a suggestion. Without really thinking about it, I got up and went downstairs into the commons area, letting the tug pull me forward.

It was quiet in the room; plug-in lights with motion sensors lit up as I got closer to them, making the room have a strange dream-like glow. The girls were all still upstairs, sound asleep. The fridge in the kitchenette area kicked on with a hum for a few seconds before quieting down again. I paused like this for a little while, absorbing the atmosphere. Observing it. And then let my body be pulled forward again and out the door.

The halls were dim and quiet too. The carpet was soft but firm underneath my feet, muffling the noises of the world. I continued forward, my mind still in an almost fugue-like state. I didn’t care where I was going. I didn’t care where this pulling sensation would take me. None of it mattered anyway. Nothing I did would matter.

I came to the courtyard hub area that we crossed to get to the different areas of the human quarters, the Day wing, where classes usually occur. No one was here, but yet I could feel them here. The presence of people, the sounds echoed like the ghosts of a past memory occurring presently. I looked around and could almost see them. There wasn’t anyone here.

I felt a presence, a real presence, land behind me, and the direction of the tugging shifted and changed. I didn’t turn around or react, already knowing who and what it was but feeling nothing.

“Why are you here?” I heard his voice speak. It was soft, curious, and sad. A wave of somber confusion washed across me, but not my own. I turned around.

Zain stood right where he had landed, facing me. His eyes were firm but gentle, his expression matched the feelings in his voice. His hair shimmered in the moonlight, his red eyes glowing softly. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t frustrated or resentful. Just...lost. Sad and lost, and looking for answers.

“I followed my heart,” I replied.

He looked on in confusion, observing me, his eyes searching. His heart searching. It felt like I could see it, his heart, reflected in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” he asked again after a moment, differently.

Tears welled up in my eyes. “I don’t know,” I answered softly. “I don’t know…”

His expression changed into a look of helpless anguish. “Why are we here?” he asked again.

And then my eyes opened.

Want to support the author? Don’t want to wait for more?

Purchase the book on Amazon!

#Chapter Three #book #original story #vampires #slowburn #romance #it's complicated #fantasy #depression #kidnapping #school life #nightblogofficialbook

1 note · View note

realchrisilluminati · 7 years

Text

Writer’s Block Is Bullshit -- Here's Why You're Stuck

For a substantial number of years, at the onset of my writing career, I absolutely believed in writer's block. The inability to breakthrough while writing an article, book or short story usually crept its ugly head at two precise moments — the seconds before sitting in front of a computer to get to work and the hours spent thinking about the task that needed to be completed.

Yeah, basically writer’s block happened all the damn time.

My form of writer's block always involves chasing the "feeling." Being overcome with the motivation or inspiration to write. To be in the mood, in my case, demanded this perfect scenario of setting, time of day, physical sensations and a hundred uncontrollable factors that must align.

Eventually, I came to a few realizations. First, nothing in life will ever be perfect. Second, I realized writer’s block is fictional, and I was just fucking scared. What if I put all my eggs in one basket and that basket is made of wet paper?

Now I know the truth.

Writer's block is a bunch of bullshit. Writer’s block doesn’t exist. As much as every working writer wishes it were an actual ailment, I repeat, writer’s block does not exist. Writer’s block is self-doubt. There's something you don't want to write, think you can't write or feel you're unqualified to write.

You don't have writer's block you're just scared of something. First, let’s figure out what…

The Common Fears That Cause Writer's Block

Here are some of the common issues that plague writers.

The “I Suck” Syndrome

Every writer, even the literary greats, begins the writing process with an awful first draft. No author vomits perfection all over the page every single time he or she sits down at a keyboard.

Most writer’s block issues can be traced back to personal feelings about yourself and your writing ability. You believe you haven’t written anything “great” in a while and have lost your mojo. The work on the page isn’t up to your often immeasurable standards, and it’s causing internal conflict. You don’t want to spend another minute sitting in front of a computer.

Here’s the bad news — you do suck. Here’s some fantastic news — every writer sucks (at some point). But you're in good company with every other writer ever. Welcome to the club!

“The first draft of anything is shit.” Ernest Hemingway

You Have “Nothing To Say”

One of the most prolific writers of the last 50 years is Robert Shields. You’ve likely never heard of him because he never published any work. Well, not really. He did, however, bang out an estimated 37.5 million words over a few decades.

“Starting in 1972, Shields was hit by the urge to document every moment of his life in his diary. It was estimated that he spent about four hours everyday typing, relaying the day’s most major events alongside the most brutally minute details while sitting on his back porch in his underwear.

He described what he had for every meal, what kind of heartburn he had (along with what he took for it and how long it lasted), who stopped by to visit him, and what he fed the cat. He was particularly precise about his bowel movements, documenting when they happened and every detail about what came out of him. (He even had a number of different ways for cataloging urination.)”

Everyone has a story. Everyone's life is interesting. Even though Robert Shields and his list of daily activities. Admit it — even though you don’t know Shields personally and every detail of his life sounds monotonous and crazy, you kinda want to see at least one of his journals.

You’re putting something off because you feel like you don’t anything original to say or add to the topic. You’re wrong. Every person adds their own unique angle to a story, and other people are interested in reading those opinions.

Famous Writers (Who Are Also My Friends) Give Advice About Writer’s Block

In case you’re thinking “who’s this idiot saying writer’s block doesn’t exist?” Well, first off, my name is at the top of this website. That’s who I am. Second, I’m not the only writer that’ll say bluntly that writer’s block is BS.

I reached out to fellow freelancers, writers, editors, authors and a few people who write just for the fun of putting pencil to pad (or digits to keys). I gave them one prompt. “Writer’s Block. Go!” They shared the first thoughts that sprung to mind.

“Anyone who says they have writer's block isn't writing...THAT is the problem. Writer's block is an excuse for distraction. Write until it's not there.” - Jason Donnelly, author, Gripped

“Some people think writer's block is like a dam, where all the ideas just get backed up and will start flowing again eventually. Others think it's a drought, and eventually, the rain will come. Writer's block is when the river is still flowing as usual, but the water's turned to piss. The flow is still there, but there's nothing worth drinking.” - Daniel Coffman, author, Four From Below

“Writer's Block is a funny thing. I think it comes from trying to come up with something perfect. The perfect topic. The perfect opening sentence. The perfect follow-up sentence. The perfect closing sentence. And for the most part, we overthink it. We end up blocking ourselves from thinking of what to do next because we just want to get the damn thing right.” - Rey Moralde, writer, The No-Look Pass

"My writer’s block generally stems from self-doubt, when I start wondering why the hell anyone might care what I have to say about a subject. I'm usually working on multiple projects at the same time, and I often find that if I'm struggling with one, it cripples my other writing because it starts occupying all my thoughts and I'll set aside time to work on it, then spend all that time thinking about how stupid it is and what a colossal waste of time it has been and how if I actually practiced what I believe about sunk costs I would scrap it altogether and move on. Being in the news business sort of forces you to get over writer's block when it comes, since sometimes you simply have to cover something, and even if you suspect all your words are dumb and bad, you need to be willing publish them to ensure future paychecks. And after writing professionally in some form for the past 10 years, I've come to understand that there's not always a correlation between the stuff I write that I think is good and the stuff people seem to enjoy reading.” — Ted Berg, sports columnist, USA Today

“The first thing that comes to mind when you say Writer's Block is a scene from the best running moving ever: Run Fat Boy Run. He hits the wall in running his first marathon, and it's a wall. No really, a wall. I think that's what writer's block is like. I don't want to spoil the end of the movie, but he gets through it, just like I do in writing life.” — Jen Miller, author, Running: A Love Story

“Writer’s block is the unavoidable flu of writing. It must be pushed through, survived, repeated, and conquered.” - Elysia Regina, writer

How To Break Writer’s Block

I’ll humor you for a few minutes and pretend writer’s block does exist but I won’t call it writer’s block. Instead, I’ll say you’re stuck. Here are some ideas and items to get the gerbils in your head back up and running on those wheels.

The first method is one of my own creation, named after one of my favorite professional wrestlers.

The Lie, Cheat and Steal Method

Eddie Guerrero is a former world champion and a member of one of the most revered families in professional wrestling. Right before his untimely passing in 2005, Guerrero was one of the most popular wrestlers in the WWE. During the height of his heel run (that’s wrestling speak for a “bad guy,” Guerrero preached the three tenants of getting ahead in wrestling or any walk of life. Lie. Cheat. Steal.

Guerrero’s advice isn’t practical or sound for any profession other than the fictitious world of professional wrestling, but it’s solid advice for a writer. Here’s how it work…

Lie: Sit down with a blank piece of paper and conjuring up the biggest bullshit lie ever. It can be about yourself or even your subject. Write a lie so massive it would be impossible for anyone to ever believe. Now, prove that lie to be true. Make your prose convince you, a family member or total stranger that this massive lie is a stone cold truth. I’m certain that by the time you’re done either a new story, new article idea or angle to a project you’ve been putting off for months will emerge.

Cheat: Go back into your archives and find a finished article or story. Now take the opposite argument. If it’s fiction, write the story in a new direction. If the story was about a man, make it about a woman. If the article was about donating time to shelter animals, take the opposite stance. (Yes, that’s a jerk thing to write about, but this is an exercise in breaking writer’s block). Find the piece you’re most proud of and turn it on its god damn head.

Steal: Grab your absolute favorite novel off the bookshelf. Open it to a random page and begin reading. Find the first sentence that really grabs you by the genitals and copy it, word for word, into a new document. Start typing a brand new story based on that one line. When you get far enough, go back and change that first line to your own words. I’m not telling you to literally steal another writer’s work, just temporarily channel their mojo for prose.

Take A Runner’s Approach To Writing

Jen Miller alluded to this approach in her quote earlier in this text but one of the best approaches to writing is similar to how people tackle the task of training for long distance runs. A runner doesn’t always feel like running, especially those long distant athletes who have to log miles and miles every single day to stay in top performing condition.

So what’s their secret to running on the days when they just don’t feel like it? They just start running. It’s that damn simple. They lace up the sneakers and hit the road. The same goes for writing. What should you do when you don’t feel like writing? Sit down and write. Every mile is a step towards running farther. Every sentence is a step towards something, even if it’s absolute gibberish.

Buy A Writer’s Block Book

There are countless apps and websites dedicated to breaking writer’s block through writing prompts. I’ve tried a few, mostly just for inspiration, and my far and away favorite is 642 Things To Write About.

“This collection of 642 outrageous and witty writing prompts will get the creative juices flowing in no time. From crafting your own obituary to penning an ode to an onion, each page of this playful journal invites inspiration and provides plenty of space to write.”

Buy A New Notebook

Five-and-dime stores were crack to me as a kid. If you’re unfamiliar, or not as ancient, a five and dime store was a step above a dollar store but not quite a Walmart. Places like Murphy’s and McCrory’s littered the land in my youth, and I loved every single one of them. What I loved most about these stores was that they sold just about everything. Toys, clothes, games, housewares, tires, magazines, records. I’d get lost in the aisles and never want to leave.

A similar feeling overcomes me each time I step foot in a stationary store. Just staring at all of the journals, pens, and accessories for writing and I GET SO FIRED UP!

How Other Writers Bust The Block

“It's like anything else: Ask for help. Sweeten the deal with cookies if you have to. It also helps to take a walk Or just physically move. I get my best ideas when I'm driving or in the shower or boxing, so basically never when I am in a situation where I can actually write something down.” - Jessica Sager, writer

"The best way to conquer writer's block is to engage your brain that can mean anything from listening music, watching a favorite show, or sometimes I find a good walk gets things moving. Failing that, sometimes it helps just to write and I mean write anything, even if it doesn't make sense. Sometimes just the act of putting words on paper, even if it's putting words on virtual paper, can get the juices flowing." — Karl Smith, editor and former newspaper columnist

“The best cure I've found for writer's block is pushing forward through something even when I think it sucks, because I'm not going to get anything else done until I'm finished with it anyway and because there's a non-zero chance the dreck I burp out when the words aren't flowing will prove more popular than the stuff I write when I feel great and invincible and dope.” - Ted Berg

“I'm a big fan of music, usually a good instrumental track works. I mix it up between jazz and new stuff like Tycho. Wine also works really well” -- Andrew Ward, writer & strategist

“Step away from it and do something else. Something out of your norm. Whatever you need to concentrate on it. Then take a nap. Or just fuck off for as long as you want to like George R.R. Martin.” — Carl Ceposki, writer

The End Of Writer’s Block (For Now)

If you still believe in writer’s block, there could be something deeper behind the inability to sit down and get work done. It’s up to you to figure out the issue and fix it. None of these problems ever go away. You’ll still have doubt, think you’ve got nothing to say or continuously chase the perfect “time” to put out a best seller or finish a work project. In the end, the only way to break through is to literally break through.

If worse comes to worse, and the words don’t come, just write about what you know. As Charles Bukowski put it “Writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all.”

Chris Illuminati is the author of five books, countless articles, a billion post-it notes and a 323 million incomplete works of fiction.

FOLLOW CHRIS ON: FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | TUMBLR

32 notes · View notes