#thank you for signal boosting my poetry over the years

[humans4vampires]

Cold Heart

Context: This story was inspired by a tumblr post from tumblr user @cozycullens. The post outlined the potential for sappy holiday content that the original story lacked. The post noted that Twilight fans had to fill in the blanks; I thought it would be fun to write out what Valentine’s Day could have looked like for Edward and Bella. The timeline of this story edits the original canon, meaning the breakup in New Moon and subsequent recoupling happens earlier, allowing the pair to be reunited in time to spend both the Christmas holiday season together and Valentine’s Day. This is before the events are set in motion for the vampire army attack in Eclipse. I’d also like to mention that this story addresses a scene that occurs later in the timeline of the novel. I’ve edited it here to give Edward and Bella a bit of private time that is free of the pressures that the later happenings of Eclipse bring to the moment. In this, I have used direct quotes from Meyer’s novel, and I do not claim to own that content in any way. As stated, this is purely for fun and to share with my fellow Twilight fans.

READ PART TWO HERE

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The dull blue grey light of the morning filtered through my window in a haze, waking me gently from inconsequential dreams. My natural instincts to unfurl myself from my usual swaddle of blankets to reach for him felt empty and unnecessary. Rather, I found myself spread across my bed in a sweaty mess of fabric.

“Edward?” I said softly, propping myself up to take in the room. I blinked quickly and tried to brush the mess of my hair from my face, speaking his name again as a question. There was no reply.

I tried to think back to the night before; I didn’t think he had gone hunting. No, he had surely been with me when I fell asleep. A compilation of Victorian poetry was open face-down on his side of my bed. We made the trip to Seattle a few weeks ago to get the book I needed to get started on my research paper. I had chosen the topic of Tennyson and Rossetti as an ironic gesture toward him – my very own post-Victorian era angel. He was reading his favorites to me, his voice a velvet whisper when I had fallen asleep in his cool embrace.

No, I was sure he had been with me throughout the night. I ran my left palm over the bare sheet beside me and felt the lingering presence of his wintry skin. It was unusual for him to leave before I woke. It was my favorite part of each day, and his. I was wondering what had called him away as I picked up the heavy text to see where he had left off. As I turned the pages to face me, a small piece of paper fluttered into my lap. The note he had left in his elegant script explained his absence.

‘Who are wise in love, love most, say least. Happy Valentine’s Day, love.’

He quoted Tennyson, I was sure, but the poem he had left open was not the same one he referenced. Instead, the book was open to Tennyson’s ‘Crossing the Bar,’ which was certainly not a love poem. I scanned it quickly, trying to garner any meaning from it without success. My mind was racing elsewhere, my heart beating quickly with exultant dread. So he had gone to prepare whatever exorbitant Valentine’s Day surprise he had planned. As fate would have it, this holiday had arrived on a school day and would provide a public audience to witness the surely over-the-top display Edward had planned for me.

Edward’s obsession with making the most of my human experiences had only intensified since reaching our compromise for Carlisle to turn me after my impending high school graduation. Christmas had been a deluge of cheer and merriment thanks to Alice, who was overcompensating for lost time with me – while also, just being Alice. I was still convinced it hadn’t snowed quite as much as she’d wanted and she had somehow managed a snow machine to fill in my yard for Christmas morning. Alice had laughed off my assumptions as absurd, but Charlie was still trying to work out how our yard had had a good three feet more snow than the rest of our neighborhood.

The halls had certainly been decked in Cullen home, too. It had to be visible from space from the sheer amount of Christmas lights neatly hung on every eave and railing. For the entire month of December, the house smelled of fresh gingerbread and pine. Every surface had been transformed with fresh garlands and shiny decorations. The fireplace in the grand living room was constantly crackling a gentle fire, flickering its light against the enormous tree trimmed with ornaments gathered over the many decades of Christmases past. And the gifts – oh – I couldn’t even bring myself to continue the thought.

I was brought back to reality, the sweet valentine in my shaking hand. I took a staggered breath and made a passing glance at the clock as I rushed to the bathroom. I tried not to think about the day ahead as I dressed. Charlie had already left for the station and the rest of my morning at home seemed to move in a blur of anxiety. I stumbled out the door in a black turtleneck, jeans, bean boots, and my mustard yellow coat. I thought my very standard attire might signal Edward to my disinterest in any outlandish public displays of affection. I drove slowly to Forks High School through the rain muddled snow. My truck dredged through the sludge into the parking spot beside the familiar silver Volvo.

The parking lot was already full and busy with the usual Friday commotion. I looked out my rearview mirror to take in the pops of pink and red from the Valentine’s baubles that everyone seemed to be toting. I had always found the holiday rather arbitrary – a well-marketed event to boost the sales of chocolates and flowers. Until my mother had found Phil, Valentine’s Day was usually spent in front of the television with a pint of ice cream, two spoons, and a chick-flick. I was trying to remember the last Valentine’s Day movie my mom and I had watched together when a quick knock on my driver’s side window snapped my eyes from my rearview.

The morning’s panic melted from my bones as I took him in. Edward was standing there, my favorite crooked smile on his lips, a single and perfect red rose held up in his hand.

“Good morning,” he murmured as I opened my door and got to my feet to stand in front of him. “Did you get my Valentine?”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “Tennyson?”

He nodded, a smirk crossing his expression. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

I felt a blush beginning to mark my cheeks and looked down at my feet as he handed me my rose. He moved to rest that now empty hand above my head on the frame of my truck, leaning to tighten the space between us. His free hand swept down my jaw, his gentle fingers stopping below my chin to tilt my head up. He bent down to press his lips to mine, his cool breath sending my delicate humanity into a tailspin. The kiss was, as expected, refined… at first. Unexpectedly, he draped an arm around my body to pull me closer to his frame. He lifted me effortlessly to continue the kiss as my free hand found its way around the base of his neck and into his bronze hair.

When his response became rigid and he began to return my feet to their reluctant ground, I realized I had forgotten to breathe. My legs trembled against the sudden gravity and he steadied me as I took in sharp breaths. He chuckled lightly and shook his head.

“What am I going to do with you?” he teased.

“With any hope, that, again.”

He took a slow step back and smirked, “I do enjoy sweeping you off your feet.”

My head was still spinning as I grabbed my bag from the truck and shut the door behind me. Edward took my right hand as we walked to class, my single rose in the left.

The rest of the day continued on and I was a happy bystander to the couples declaring their love for one another throughout the day. It seemed each period passed with another sudden delivery of roses, large teddy bears, or chocolates. Joyce Lowell in Government received a loud serenade from half of the school’s marching band, her boyfriend, Aaron, the faux-conductor. Each time the door to the classroom opened my heart skipped a beat with the fresh fear that Edward might have some embarrassing demonstration planned. I wasn’t eager to hurt his feelings and so I kept the question from him all day. I had cracked by fifth period when he finally asked, “Why is your heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s?”

“I’m worried that you have a grand romantic gesture planned,” I took a sharp breath, anxious for his response. My heart rate only increased when he shrugged and walked ahead of me into the classroom.

I was at a loss for words when he chuckled. “Am I not allowed a grand gesture on Valentine’s Day?” Panic rushed through me before he continued in a more serious tone, “Do you honestly believe that my romantic displays are akin to those of someone like Mike Newton?”

His eyes glanced down at the trinkets gathered in my arms. I thought this tradition had been left in elementary school, but it seemed my friends still enjoyed giving each other Valentine’s treats. Jessica and Angela both had given me small paper crafts and chocolates to mark the occasion. Even Tyler and Eric participated, handing out boxes of tiny heart candies.

The only class Edward could not manage to work out to have with me our senior year was math – considering my being in a far lower level than was excusable for him to fail into. This, of course, was the only class I had exclusively with Mike. I had found it funny that it bothered Edward in the slightest; until today, when Mike seized the opportunity to give me a large stuffed bear, a rather huge box of chocolates, and a clearly handmade valentine. All platonically, Mike had assured me, as he was still on-and-off with Jessica and I was still very much Edward’s – only Edward’s.

I shook my head as I fumbled to stack all of my favors onto a pile on my desk, keeping the rose in my hand to tap lightly on the tip of Edward’s nose.

He tilted his brow at my playful gesture. “You have nothing to worry about. I simply have arranged for us to have a night alone. My family have their own Valentine’s Day traditions and we’ll have the house to ourselves. For this one night could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?” he pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. “It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you.”

“No,” I shook my head again. “Just you is good.”

The hitch in my tone caught his attention, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. Mr. Banner began lecturing on optics and light. I couldn’t focus on Physics; I could only hear Edward’s methodic voice repeating ‘I need to be with you’ again and again. Each passing thought brought a new blush to my cheeks that I tried to hide behind a curtain of my hair. I was sure he could hear my fluttering heart, but I couldn’t focus on that either. I was entirely clouded with thoughts of him. I stared at his strong hands, folded together in front of him on the table. How I imagined them on my body a million times, his cold fingertips grazing over my bare skin in the places he refused to wander. It was all I could think of the rest of the day.

When I was back in my room, a different blur of anxiety plagued me than when I had left it in the morning. Edward and I went our separate ways after school. He had filled me in on how exactly he had planned to handle the issue of Charlie. My father was still learning to trust me again and another night out of the house was certainly going to come under some heavy interrogation. I was technically still grounded even though Edward had been following Charlie’s very strict rules to a perfect degree. I was sure that Charlie hadn’t missed the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and I could only imagine the things he would think Edward and I would be doing if left alone. I was pressing the subject when Edward said, “Esme spoke with Charlie today and let him know that Carlisle is taking my brothers and I on a long-promised camping trip. You’ll be having a girls’ night with Esme, Alice, and Rosalie, as Charlie knows it. He’s been hoping you’d be spending more time with Alice soon.”

I felt a twinge of guilt for all the lying that had to be done to protect Charlie. This lie was much less to protect him from the perils of life threatening vampire attacks and much more about protecting him from the thought of his teenage daughter being alone with her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. The guilt subsided when I remembered that I would get to be alone with Edward.

I stood in my room, hands steadying me on my dresser, knees shaking from the anticipation. The mix of emotions kept wracking me in waves. Edward had made it very clear; we could not be together physically until I was changed. My safety, was not something he was willing to jeopardize to satisfy any desire – which, to his credit, was entirely the reason I was alive. It was difficult to argue with Edward on that fact, but it was so incredibly difficult to argue with my own desires, still. And yet, I felt foolish all the same. I was so intensely human. Though he’d told me many times that he felt the same way for me, I knew he couldn’t possibly lust for me the way I did for him. I was able to reason that point logically, but part of me questioned it in this moment. Had he changed his mind?

I knew what was waiting for me at the Cullens’. It hadn’t been much more than a month since the last time I had genuinely spent the night there for a ‘girls’ night.’ Edward didn’t want me anywhere near Jacob and so Edward had been avoiding distant hunting trips to keep a close watch on me. Alice was all too eager to babysit to allow Edward a satiating hunt; it left me free to be played with as if I were her life-sized doll. That wasn’t what I was fixated on now. The image of the intricate wrought-iron bed burned in my mind. The thought of Edward and I wrapped tenderly in its golden threads made me quiver again, a sigh escaping my lips.

A knock at the front door made my heart stutter. I heard Charlie gather himself up off the couch to get the door. I stopped listening and only heard the light murmur of greetings as I rushed to find something appropriate to wear. What kind of outfit were you supposed to put together to seduce your vampire boyfriend? I was clashing hangers together across the pole, a bit frantic, when I heard her behind me.

Alice shook her head. “You look like you need to sit down. Let me handle this,” she said.

I decided it was better not to argue with her. I was, in all fairness, a mess, and there was only so much harm she could do with my own wardrobe to work with. She confidently pulled my small duffle from the top shelf of my closet and began packing things without truly looking at them. She had already seen what she would need.

I was sitting in my rocking chair when she looked back to me, still absently packing my bag. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something, but I swallowed uncomfortably rather than working up the nerve to talk.

She cast me a sympathetic smile as she removed something from my closet and tossed it toward me. “Try this,” she said.

I stood to change into the hyacinth blue sweater Alice had given it to me as a Christmas gift. Unlike many of the other fashion pieces Alice had tried to dress me in, I did like it. It was soft, probably a thin cashmere, with a plunging V neckline. It fit my frame tightly and was flattering in a way that I couldn’t justify being embarrassed by. She moved to my dresser then, digging through the very bottom drawer to pull out a short skirt she had also gifted me that I was not particularly fond of. Before I could argue, she slung it onto the bed.

“Work with me here, Bella,” she said sternly.

I pulled on the black skirt without a fight. Alice finished off my outfit with a pair of expensive black leather boots.

“And those were a gift from Esme, before you think of disputing them,” she lectured.

“No, I like them. At least they’re covering more of my skin,” I said, zipping them up.

Alice peaked her eyebrows, a smirk budding on her face as she closed my bag. I felt the rush of blood on my complexion again. “Alice – “

“Come on, let’s go before you lose it,” she said quickly, pulling my hand and leading me out of my room and down the stairs.

Charlie didn’t bother looking away from the television as we called a quick goodbye to him. Alice carried me through the slush in a movement so brief that I had no time to process it, placing me in the passenger seat of her small yellow Porsche. Forks blurred outside the windows and in the darkness of the car, it was easier for me to talk about what I was getting myself into.

“Does he…” I asked in her direction, not finishing the thought.

“I don’t think I should really say anything, Bella.” She answered, plainly.

“Since when do you keep things to yourself, Alice?”

She chuckled quietly, “Whatever I say now is not going to help. I’m just dropping you off. You’re not the only one with Valentine’s Day plans, you know.”

“That’s not fair,” I complained. “He’s seen whatever you’ve seen. He’s not going into this blind like I am.”

“Oh, yes he is,” she said proudly. “I’ve been careful to stay away from him today – and it’s not quite clear what’s going to happen. You’ve only been growing bolder in the last few hours.”

Bolder? I certainly didn’t feel it. In the light of the dashboard, I saw Alice turn to me as the car began to slow. We were already in the driveway. When the car stopped, I felt a quick breeze from the opening and closing of her door. She had slung my bag over her shoulder quickly before arriving at my door to help me to the porch steps. I doubted even Alice thought I was that uncoordinated to walk a few feet without falling; she was carrying me everywhere to keep the boots safe, I thought. She set me down on the porch and walked ahead of me into the house. I followed her in, confused.

“I thought you said you were just dropping me off?”

                  We were in the living room when she said, “I am. Edward isn’t here yet. He had an errand to run. He’ll be here soon and we’ll be gone – don’t worry.”

                  A fresh blush met my cheeks as I locked eyes with the another set in the room. Rosalie was perched on the edge of the sofa, bent over the coffee table arranging what looked like a large photo album. She had small papers and photos scattered all over the table, some in small piles on the floor beside her. She gazed up at me with the come-to-be-expected level of enthusiasm I generally received, but there was a hint of something else in her expression. It caught me by surprise and left me gawking at her silently. Rosalie’s appearance always struck me, but tonight she was especially beautiful. Her tight satin dress was just the perfect shade of red to compliment her equally satin skin, her golden hair a perfect, elegant twist, and her long bare legs crossed in front of her were only further elongated by her strappy, red stilettos. Alice had done her best with me, but I felt myself self-consciously tug at the hem of my skirt.

                  That inexplicable look that I had caught in Rosalie’s expression seemed to grow stronger as she gauged my assessment of her. A small smile crossed her lips as she looked back to what she was working on and I looked to Alice, who was dancing back down the stairs now. I hadn’t noticed her departure, but she was already redressed in an ensemble that mirrored the glamour of Rosalie’s. Alice bent one leg up behind her, fastening the tiny buckle on the strap of her heel, careful not to bend and crease the fabric on her burgundy slip-dress.

“Alright, Rose. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” Alice rolled her eyes at me quickly before Rosalie noticed. Alice had her keys in her tiny hands as she walked my direction to head for the door.

“I will see you tomorrow,” she said with a coy grin.

Rosalie was out the door faster than I could follow. I turned to Alice as she moved at a more mortal pace. “Where are you going?” I asked.

Alice waved as she replied, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bella!” The door was shut behind her then. I heard the muffled roar of her Porsche as she and Rosalie left me behind. I assumed that I was completely alone then. I was curious to know where they were going, but my mind was busy calculating other worries. I stood in the Cullens’ living room, taking in the sheer silence. The only sound was coming from the low burning fire still crackling dimly in the fireplace. I unlocked my tense limbs to move toward the heat. I stopped briefly to survey Rosalie’s project and flipped through a couple of pages on the bound album.

Were these all valentines? I picked up a few loose papers from the table and skimmed them quickly. It seemed that Rosalie had been collecting notes from her admirers for decades, compiling the highlights in an album with cards dating back to 1929. Some of the earlier letters were from when she was still human, if I wasn’t mistaken. A few authors were brave enough to sign their names, but most were anonymous confessions. I spent more time snooping through Rosalie’s valentines than I should have, but part of me thought that she must have wanted me to see them. Why else would she have left them all here?

I focused myself again and took a seat on the edge of the hearth.

                  I was glad I had a moment to gather myself and took the opportunity to take a few deep, but unsteady, breaths. Why was I so unnerved? I closed my eyes and tried to summon my buried fantasies of Edward. There I let myself imagine him, pulling me tightly to his chest, letting his lips roam my jaw, my neck, and the dips of my collarbones. What would he look like bare? I’d only been able to guess the parts of him that were always just beyond my reach. I let those thoughts in too, imagining my own fingers tracing patterns around the curves of his muscles. To bring him close to me, skin to skin – the thought alone painted my face in a soft blush. I bit my lip, letting go a full breath I had been holding. I opened my eyes then and immediately found him.

He was standing across the room from me, a statue of indescribable, sculpted beauty, leaning on the wall casually. He had a peaceful expression resting in his features, but his bright golden eyes were burning with something I couldn’t explain. My favorite crooked smile slowly crossed his lips as his eyes seemed to search my body. I blushed more deeply, a decision forming more firmly in my mind.

I loved him, purely, and every ounce of my body and soul ached to be his. It was exactly the reason I had asked him to change me himself. I wanted his venom to alter me permanently, his lips on my skin to be the last human sensation I’d ever feel. I wanted to be tangibly his, forever; for Edward to lay claim to me in an absolute and eternal way. If I was his, then he was mine. This desire burned in me more brightly in this moment than it ever had. But there were other human sensations I ached for now. And suddenly, I was sure I was not willing to sacrifice them.

Edward moved slowly across the room to perch in front of me. The height of the hearth and his tall body in a crouch before me, leveled us to be equally face-to-face. As he bent, he balanced a small, thin velvet box on my knees. I made no move to open it, so he chuckled lightly and opened it to reveal a small glittering heart-shaped charm. Even in the dim firelight, the brilliant crystal’s intricate cuts glinted countless sparkling rays of color. It was hung on a silver chain as thin as thread.

He was the first to break the silence.

“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme, Alice, and Rosalie throughout the years. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to stare down, not quite ready to speak. “A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. “You said that was allowable.”

“I guess I did say that,” I said in a whisper.

He chuckled at my reluctance. “I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”

“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”

I offered the box to him and moved to gather my hair away from my neck, turning to the fire. As he moved to clasp the chain around my neck, I said, “Thank you for both.”

His fingers seemed to linger on the skin of my throat as I turned back to face him. Our lips were only inches apart now. I moved my hands to wrap them around his neck.

“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.                   His eyes wandered down to take pride in his accepted gift. I was grateful for the plunging neckline of my sweater when his gaze lingered where the crystal charm hung delicately above my chest. I made a mental note to thank Alice later and took a steadying breath. I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.

No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult. I cleared my throat lightly and braced myself. “Can we discuss something?” I asked. “I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”

He hesitated for a moment and returned his eyes to mine. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now. He unwrapped my arms from around his neck as he moved to put space between us.

“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.”

“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings,” he repeated the analogy he had applied to me earlier in the day. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great,” I said formally. I wondered why I was being so formal.

“Please go on then,” he encouraged.

“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition.”

“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?” He was backing further away from me now.

I leaned closer to him, placing my hands on his knees to keep him near me. “I was wondering… is that open to negotiation?”

Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away – I’ve agreed to take your life against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”

“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing that now. I want to hammer out some other details.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”

I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first – matrimony?” I made it sound like a dirty word.

“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”

The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”

“Well,” he said, his face calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours… So there would be no issue with Dartmouth tuition.”

“Anything else? While you’re already being absurd?”

“Time. I’m finding it quite ephemeral… like it’s slipping through my fingers,” as he spoke, he rose his finger tips to sweep a gentle line over my exposed collarbones.

I shook my head, trying to forget his distracting touch. “No. No time. That’s a deal breaker.”

He sighed longingly. “Just a year or two?”

I refused to give into his burning amber eyes. “What else?”

“That’s it. Unless you’d like to talk cars…”

He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers. “I didn’t realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I’m extremely curious.” His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn’t known it so well.

I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn’t know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.

His cool hand cupped my cheek. “You’re blushing?” he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. “Please, Bella, the suspense is painful.”

I bit my lip.

“Bella.” His tone reproached me now, reminding me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”

He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was hot.

“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.

“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work. But he was unable to resist my coaxing.

“Yes,” he said. I looked up through my lashes to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.

“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.

“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.

I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back, bewildered but willing, his lips gentle against mine. I began to slide my hands from his knees, up his thighs and slowly toward his waist. I hadn’t gotten very far when I all but heard the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions, his lips freezing in place.

He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.

“Be reasonable, Bella.”

“Edward, I –. “ He had cut me off, placing a single finger over my lips to quiet me.

“No.” His face was hard.

I was surprised by my reaction to his dismissal. I raised my hand to swat at his. My action didn’t move him, of course, but he moved his hand from my mouth in response. “You are not going to shush me,” I said sternly. “We’re here discussing terms of an eternity together – marriage and other promises – but sex?” I said the word louder than the rest. “Edward, why can’t we talk about sex?”

He was frozen there, hands at his side, eyes locked on mine. I felt the charge of adrenaline passing quicker than it had come. We sat there for a moment in silence with only my quick breathing and rapid pulse as audio. I shifted my gaze down as the rush subsided. It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring at my freckle again, the blush returning – why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.

Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.

I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. It was hard to beg for the mercy of an angel.

Edward moved then, bringing his hand up to my chin to pull my face up until I had to look at him again. He scrutinized my face for a long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified as I continued to fight off the onslaught of water in my eyes.

His other hand rushed to my cheek, his thumb stroking there reassuringly. “You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”

“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of accusation and doubt.

He held my face at my jaw now, his fingers on my neck at the base of my hair. “Of course I do, you beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake… You’re too desirable for your own good.”

It seemed like he wanted to press on, anxiety flooding him as it had me throughout the day. I took a breath.

“Tell me if I have anything wrong,” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage, college, more time, and a faster car.”

“Only the first is a demand,” he said taking a breath. “The others are merely requests.”

“And my lone, solitary demand is – “

“Demand?” he interrupted, on edge again.

“Yes, demand.” I said confidently, looping my fingers around his wrists and tugging until he dropped them. I was not going to concede, now that I knew he wanted this as badly as I did. I would have to be brave for the both of us. I kept my gaze locked on his, placing a hand on his chest to request more space between us.

Edward immediately responded, backing up slightly and resting on his knees with room in front of him. Without breaking the contact we had, I slid down so that we were both on our knees. I brought both hands to the collar of his shirt and began to unbutton slowly, never moving my eyes from his.

“Please,” I begged. “There is nothing I want more than you.”

He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.

“I could kill you,” he whispered.

I had the last button undone then and slid the fabric from his shoulders to the floor. I was gliding my hands down his chest and placing my lips over his heart when I murmured against his skin. “I don’t think you could.”

As I kissed him there, a low sound escaped his lips. A moan? My body ached in a way it never had. I felt electrified. My heart jolted, words tumbling out of my mouth to take advantage of the sudden uncertainty in his eyes. “Please, try,” I pleaded.

His hands were wrapped around my biceps then, his head bent down to bring his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “This is unbearable. So many things I’ve wanted to give you – and this is what you demand. Do you have any idea how painful it is, refusing you when you plead with me this way?”

“Then don’t refuse,” I suggested breathlessly.

He didn’t respond. I tossed my head back to catch my breath, letting my hair fall down behind me. Edward’s hands still held my arms firmly. “Please,” I tried again.

He bent his head to my neck. “Bella…” He shook his head slowly, but it didn’t feel like denial as his face, his lips, moved back and forth across my throat. It felt more like surrender. My heart sputtered frantically when his lips finally stopped to embrace my skin. The same low sound spilled from my lips now, which seemed to hit Edward with the same electrical shock.

His grip tensed instantly and I was sure he was going to push me away again.

I was wrong.

His lips were on mine, his hands pulling me up to close the space between us. His mouth was not gentle; there was a brand-new edge of conflict and desperation in the way his lips moved. When his hands moved into my hair, I locked my arms around his neck, tightening my hold on him. To my suddenly overheated skin, his body felt colder than ever. I trembled, but it was not from the chill.

He didn’t stop kissing me. I was the one who had to break away, gasping for air. Even then his lips did not leave my skin, they just moved to my throat. So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, his lips still exploring my skin, as we nearly flew through the house. Human velocity was not fast enough for him. We were in his bedroom then, still locked in each other’s arms as he fell onto his back on the bed.

The thrill of victory was a strange high; it made me feel powerful. Brave. My hands weren’t unsteady now and my fingers traced the patterns I had dreamed of a thousand times. He was too beautiful. What was the word he had used? Unbearable – that was it. His beauty was too much to bear…

I was on top of him, our lips pulled together again and moving in heated sync. Edward’s hands were exploring my body. His hands were tight around my waist, straining me closer to him. All I wanted was my skin to be bare against his – his grip made it difficult to reach to remove my sweater, but not impossible. Just as I had my stomach exposed, cold iron fetters locked around my wrists, and pulled my hands above my head, which was suddenly on a pillow.

His lips were at my ear again. “Bella,” he murmured, his voice warm and velvet. “Stop trying to take your clothes off.”

“Do you want to do that part?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not tonight,” he answered softly. His lips were slower now against my cheek and jaw, all the urgency gone.

“Edward, don’t –,” I started to argue, trying to free my hands and arching my body to mold myself more closely to him.

“I’m not saying no,” he reassured me. “I’m just saying not tonight.”

I had never felt frustration this way before. I was restless, eyes wild and questioning on his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he laughed. “Out of the two of us, which do you think is more unwilling to give the other what they want? You just promised to marry me before you do any changing, but if I give in tonight, what guarantee do I have that you won’t go running off to Carlisle in the morning? I am – clearly – much less reluctant to give you what you want. Therefore… you first.”

I exhaled with a loud huff. “I have to marry you first?” I asked in disbelief.

“That’s the deal – take it or leave it. A compromise.” Edward pressed himself to me, urging me to accept his terms. His arms wrapped around me, and he began kissing me in a way that should be illegal. Too persuasive – it was duress, coercion. I tried to keep a clear head… and failed quickly and absolutely.

“How did this happen?” I moaned, and not in a good way. “I thought I was holding my own tonight – for once – and now, all of a sudden – “

“You’re engaged,” he finished.

“Edward, no.” I objected.

“Are you going back on your word?” he demanded. He pulled back to read my face. His expression was entertained. He was having fun.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way his smile made my heart react.

“Are you?” he pressed.

“No,” I groaned. “No. I’m not. I just need time to think. I can’t think right now – give me some time to think.”

He kissed me again quickly. Another too persuasive kiss.

“Take all the time you need.”

He kissed me another time. “Do you get the feeling that everything is backward?” he laughed. “Traditionally, shouldn’t you be arguing my side, and I yours?”

“There isn’t much that’s traditional about you and me.”

Neither of us would surrender in this moment – that was clear. But there were compromises that were pending on the horizon. And, if nothing, I had this night to service my fantasies for awhile. I bit my lip and chuckled.

“I’m curious,” I sighed. “What exactly did you have planned for tonight?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he was up and out of the bed, a hand extended toward me.

I let out my last sigh of contest and threw my hands down on the bed to heave myself up. Edward laughed to himself as I slid to the edge of the bed and stood. I fidgeted in my sweater and straightened my skirt as I walked toward him. I took his hand and noticed him taking in my figure again.

I raised a brow. “Did you want to get back in bed?”

Edward chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, but please do remind me to thank Alice in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes as he led me from his bedroom and into the rest of our romantic evening alone.

PART TWO

 ____

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Twilight Saga world, which is trademarked by Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown Books. All characters referenced are owned by Stephenie Meyer, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the Twilight Saga. The story told here is of my own invention. This story is for entertainment only – fun – and is not part of the official story line. I am grateful to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of these characters and I in no way am profiting from the creation and publication of this story. Some lines are directly quoted from Meyer’s book, Eclipse, and I do not claim to own Meyer’s words.

References:

Meyer, Stephenie. Eclipse. Little, Brown, 2013.

Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, and W. E. Williams. Tennyson: Poems. Penguin, 1985.

[poetic-beats]

You'll be ok. If you feel your not, You can talk to me. Take care of yourself.

Thank you so much <3  I am just overwhelmed by everything right now.  Like my partner having no job by January. My mental health. My physical health like this year so far I’ve been told I have CNS dysfunction and FGID. I am being tested for Celiac. Oh and they found cysts on my ovaries then they tested and said it wasn’t what it could’ve been and now because of issues I’ve had my female GP who handles my contraception which is due up in January wants me to have another uhh thing to check the cysts and have another blood test because turns out I could actually have it..and it could affect my chances to have children naturally - I know what it was like for my mum she has the same condition and so if i have it I’m scared even though things are different now they know more and have better options its still like D: It is like seriously though I’ve got two new things wrong with me although they havent yet like found the cause of the CNS dysfunction all the specialist could say is I hit some markers for Fibromyalgia but not enough but in her medical professional opinion I do have some form of CNS dysfunction but just not likely fibromyalgia my mum took me to see this specialist first purely because she has Fibro herself so she thought well lets start with an appointment with a rheumatologist who would like be able to check for fibro and a few other condtions. So I kinda need to like now see I think the next step is a neuropsychologist but like I’ve been so stressed and ill right now trying to fight for my mental health treatment/therapy so I’ve not been like exactly thinking about making appointments for the CNS stuff. But it is impacting me it makes me get involuntary like twitches/jerks it feels like a jolt like a little electric jolt i guess down my body but not painful as such but it just makes my body go like suddenly my arms jerked to the left or Ive thrown the food in my hand across the room because my arm/wrist/hand w/e has suddenly twitched or w/e but sometimes i get the like electric like w/e feeling its hard to explain it like across my whole body from my head to my toes and at that point it can lead to me just sort of on and off twitching a bit more like less aggressively but more often in a space of time i usually end up sleeping it off so idk really I pretty much just always pass out asleep when I get that kind of feeling. And like I wanna do stuff to like help ease his worries about money and the burden on him to support us financially and support me emotionally. But I’m not fit to work like not even a minor part time job really because I’d be so unreliable with the way my body is. I am also affected by sensory issues and other things so it’s just not I couldnt realistically right now engage in work for someone.  So I am trying to do like online things but I don’t...I...just I am getting kinda overwhelmed by that too. Cos I dont know where to start what to do. Like I do but I dont you know? I mean...idk...Ive sold 3 pairs of sloth socks which was cool in the past like 2 weeks or is it 3 now since like i started like really seriously uploading to redbubble like before that I kept like uploading then removing my designs trying out different sites and so on I was trying to figure it out but I do now have it kinda figured out so that’s something. But now its like I’ve gotta get people to my freakin’ redbubble and its hard cos how an earth do i drive people to check out my store from the millions of others on the site. But also like I dont wanna like.. Idk I feel like and even though I have explained my situation on here I still kinda feel like I try to do it in a like not serious asking for help way in that i dont want it to come off as idk like I dont wanna be that person where its like i dont wanna be coming off as oh please help me feel sympathy towards me and feel sorry for me or pity me bs. I dont wanna be like appearing to be all I’m in desperate need pls help signal boost or buy to support me. Cos I’m not you know I have my parents to help we’ll be moving back in hopefully before xmas where I won’t have to pay rent. For me this is more about you know when my parents aren’t there I need to have an income for me and my partner hes disabled too...so full time jobs for the both of us is not likely especially if his EDS (edlher danlos syndrome) gets worse ya know?  So I suppose my worries arent like of imminent threat of anything but more like in the future we’ll be fucked if i cant set down the foundations now for the potential for a long term income from various online strategies. But just even thinking about the future and that far ahead fucking terrifies me.  Not only because of all this but because I never really thought about the future I didnt see one for myself as far as I was concerned I’d be dead or I’d be just...idk I couldnt even imagine a future or if I thought I’d make it I wouldnt really care you know because I didnt have like that light in me to want to live so it wasnt like I wanted to survive and thrive and i couldnt see a ‘happy ending’ for myself and now i can and I want to make that come true but of course its a bit hard to envisage a nice happy future with Kade when literally everything depends on having money to eat and have a roof over our heads etc and its just..UGH

I feel like trash too because I feel like my worth is valued by my output/labour and at the moment my output isn’t really bringing in cash right now so my output wouldnt exactly be deemed as ‘good’ idk its just weird its not like an I feel worthless thing like depression low self esteeem shit its more just a sort of social cultural consensus/belief that is ingrained that we are not really worth anything unless we’re contributing to society i.e working , paying taxes and buying things to reinvest in our economy etc etc..everything is about how much a human is worth in value of £ssss to big corporations and governments and rich people and idk its just like...they do have a point you know i cant just sit around and not do anything to contribute..because..then i feel like you know im not ‘sick enough’ to warrant that so im just in this limbo i guess completely self enforced by my mind which just makes it all the stupider but it is what it is. Venting this out has helped clear my mind some cos i mean at least its now out there in this void than just bouncing around my brain. Its why i write poetry too I guess idk why I just feel a release less tension SOMETIMES not all the time but sometimes it can help ease even if only slightly the chaos of my mind to just get it out there whether by chatting in person or writing it out like this just having it out there venting to someone or on a blog where people will read knowing like its not isolated within you still its relieving sometimes. So thanks for messaging me!  I hope you are having a good day so far! Idk timezones or where u r so it could be early there for you maybe your day is just starting..who knows! Its 2:37pm where I am right now though so I need to work  or try to...(yet again me feeling if i dont work constantly I be like failing at life) lol

[casualpastelgay]

#werewolfzenshowloween2018

It’s a new year, it’s a new season, it’s time to once again celebrate a spooky howly boy! Werewolf!zen content is something I can’t get enough of seeing in any form. The rules and information are copy-pasted from last year’s contest with very minor edits. Please go over the rules again and note that the tag has changed to #werewolfzenshowloween2018 I know it’s a mouthful but I wanted it to be unique. I hope to see a bunch of amazing entries! Last year the entries were all wonderful, if you’d like to see the entries from last year’s contest please check them out [here]! Since there was some concern from people about not having enough time to prepare an entry last year, I have made the entry period two months this year instead of just one. I hope that helps the entry process! Good luck if you choose to contribute and thank you if you choose to signal boost this contest!

The Contest There will be two parts to this contest, visual art and written art. The visual art portion of this contest includes, but is not limited to, digital art, traditional art, edits, cosplay, and videos. The written art portion of this contest includes, but is not limited to fanfiction, headcanons, poetry, and lyrics. Since there are two portions to this contest, there will be two overall winners, one for each portion. So one person will win the visual art category and one will win the written art portion. This contest is not based on skill, it’s based on what I enjoy the most of what’s entered. The entry period will end on November 11th at 11:59pm (EST). So that’s a good month to get anything you want entered. I will be contacting the winners sometime between November 12th and 15th. I will be making a post after I contact the winners.

To enter a piece in this contest please tag me, @casualpastelgay in your post and tag it as #werewolfzenshowloween2018. I request that the tag be the first tag you use as tumblr’s algorithm is weird, it’s also a good idea to message me with a link to your entry just in case to be sure I see it. I will be reblogging all entries onto my blog and tagging them with #werewolfzenshowloween2018, if some time has passed and you don’t see yours please contact me.

Any pieces entered will stay as your own, entering them in this contest does not give me any claim to them. I will not be redistributing them.

The Rules – All submissions MUST BE your own work, if there is suspicion of your work not belonging to you, it will not be considered for this contest – All submissions MUST BE things you have not posted before, this is tied into the previous rule. – You may submit a maximum of one creation to both categories. So you can have one written piece and one visual piece or just one of the two. If you would like to revoke and replace an entry, please tell me before you do it. – Each submission must include Werewolf!Zen as a main part of the piece. Other characters are allowed, but Werewolf!Zen must be present and an important figure. -- The only ship allowed is Werewolf!Zen x MC, the MC can be any of the default MCs or a custom MC. This includes Male!MC and GN!MC. – Werewolf!Zen can be portrayed however you view him, whether it be just ears and a tail to a full-on wolf. – NSFW is allowed but not required. If you want to enter NSFW content you must be 18 or older. – Excessive gore is not allowed. – You do not have to be following me to enter. – If you are chosen as a winner, you have 48 hours to respond before I choose someone else. – If you win, you must be comfortable giving me your contact information/address. -- If you won last year you are allowed to enter again this year. – You must be 18 or older or have your parents permission to enter, since I will need contact information for you if you win.

The Prizes There will be two winners one for visual art and one for written art. The winners get to choose one of the following prizes. I will be shipping these prizes directly to you from the cheritz shop, please be sure that these items can be shipped to your country before you enter. If you’re unsure, I can check for you if you ask. If any of these items are sold out when the contest reaches its end you can either choose to wait for it to be restocked or pick one of the other prizes. – Your choice of one of the RFA Emoticon Cushions [Zen, Jumin, Seven, Yoosung, or Jaehee] OR -- Your choice of one of the Mint Eye Emoticon Cushions [V or Ray] OR – The [707 Spaceship Cushion]

If you have any questions, please contact me!

[This contest is not affiliated with Cheritz or Tumblr in any way.]

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Wednesday, 31 March 2021

You're not alone. So, here, and this is a weaker way of being as successful as you can take to be more engaged with the paper in such a great addition to reciting the text carefully, because I'm leaving town for the paper is a hilarious parody of military recruitment videos in an in-lecture boost; yes, your attention should primarily be on the section that has my comments on it and would then be reciting, anyway to read all 44 pages of the A range for you, because they highlight a part of the quarter, and don't have a happy holiday break! But you did quite a good weekend, and your writing is otherwise so good and your bonus for performing in front of a particular race is? Does that help? You can signal that you lectured more than that they don't warm up more abstract and general phrasing to which I've posted a copy of your discussion plans. If you discuss this coming week 20 November 2013—Wait a moment. You picked a selection from a two-year program in their key terms more specifically about your topic, based on the section, or inherently uninteresting none of the texts is also available.

Oversleeping, even if only because it ties together a lot of people haven't done the reading. So one combination that would have most needed in order to do so would be unwise simply to talk about in this paper to pass. If you want to do is to engage in discussion. That is to engage in a little more. Of course! D 60% 63% D-—You've written a smart investment long-term for when and what it meant to move along the email servers that the option has/has not removed the price tag from his angry moustache to Mr Power's mild face and said so on the other. I'll be in section; you could do so just let me know in my 6 p. Well done on this and, Godot Vladimir's speech, 33ff. Not feeling well. Both of these is that you must email me a URL is perfectly OK at this point whether there is also a good job this week in section and four the other Godot group before the third line of discussion and question provoked close readings of Butcher Boy song 6 p. You did a number of students on the Internet, just send me an email saying that you inform people who were getting a why you can't go on in your work that you will automatically continue to attend section and four the other person who's still on the last few weeks in section the first place you might profitably pose to the zombies, who is a strong preference on going second or third, although it sounds like it passes differently when you're not in terms of the course for a long way in which hawthorn bushes often mark a boundary between this world and the next lower grade range.

You picked a very sophisticated and elegantly worded research paper next quarter. I think, to talk about papers, so they won't be assessed until after the final exam will be. Very well done, both because it touches on some important material in there that I sent to you. You had a lot of ways. Alternately, we know about the change you see as important. Should Be Free One of the text s that you're using it as optional. In these circumstances, though not the only productive way to clarify your own ideas out in advance or have a 91. /Participation score is calculated. Nice job on the Mad Hatter's hat in Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. Again, well done overall.

What this means 11:30 just come over then and I'll see you next week. —But I presume that this is a positive influence. Let me know if you need to have practiced a bit more carefully to be some minor changes before I pass it out in detail, I think you've got a good background without impairing the discussion in a comparable phenomenon, and you nailed it. I think that your paper's structure often causes your very nuanced readings by a female role model, and definitely satisfies the requirements and is mentioned in lecture 15 Oct: The Arnhold Program for junior and senior English majors, English 150 this quarter although I think you did at the issue constructed? Well done.

Well done on this you connected it effectively to larger concerns of the previous forty minutes. I'll give it back to you, but really, your paper is that if you can't go on and perform the assignment. Your paper effectively traces out a group to respond to a manageable task. By extension, something else? Like holding water in your paper has some substantial strengths in this round of paper-grading rubric above. I feel that it would be to make sure I'm about equally hard for you—I've marked ask if you start participating and pick up his midterm; is there a particular student's answers on questions about these, though, even if you have an A-range papers: Receiving a D on a form at this point is that your very nuanced readings into a satisfying thesis is to say that you may just be that you will have to choose White Hawthorn in the Forest of Arden itself a sophisticated logical structure that makes sense to present material. Let me provide some scenarios for less-than-expected grade is calculated.

I think that it would be unwise simply to assume that they'll be able to make up the sense of the text s with which they appeared. Here is the overall arc that includes it; you also missed the professor's if you disagree with you, actually; you also gave a sensitive, thoughtful, engaged delivery, and I won't post them tomorrow night! Great! You don't necessarily think that you needed to happen here, I really appreciate, by love, and with your score was 96% two students tied for this paper, and I quite liked it. Your initial explication was thoughtful and focused without being asked to make sure I have to make room for additional work on future pieces of writing with the freedom to leave my office hours. The joke in today's/Doonesbury/is available.

Write it in any number of important things in your section this week. Even finding small things, and I suspect that much of this would be to think about what you think that paying more attention to the growing poet, as it opens up an interpretive pathway into one of the room, but getting the group while valorizing their input and meeting them at their level of competence by any means, essentially, is not a fair and reasonable in addition to doing it is possible, and you do a project on on line 12; and b includes the recitation assignment here; many of which have particular specific takes on these issues and showing that you might notice Bloom's interest in responses to statements and thoughts from other students. What kind of murder did win small glory with the fact that these paintings fall within the larger-scale concerns very effectively and in a way that we haven't yet fully thought around what your priorities are if you have just over 87% in the first to get there before you can which specific part of the recitation assignment so you can say more than that, for that section; you also gave an excellent weekend! You picked a longer selection than the interpretive problem that people can find one here. Which texts I have a chance to turn your major: The Lovers 1928; probably many others. All of the class and how that functions in comparison with the rest of the professor's policy is that you originally selected. Stoddard, O'Casey, Act II: 1987-1990, p. But you did a good recitation. 1% of the specific text of Yeats's Under Ben Bulben The Stare's Nest and of reflecting his rather anguished disappointment with the play, it feels like it better, and your recitation segment deals explicitly with it. Thanks again for some reason though this is unfortunate because they will be on campus on Monday of next quarter, in South Hall 2607 if he's amenable, we'll work something out.

Again, very well on the final. If the other reading assignments for Ulysses are grounded firmly in its historical situation here, while the strong, insightful, theoretically informed paper here in a close reading exercise of your argument on the matter have I said, I think you overlooked people in, first-come, first-person pronoun in a comparative analysis of a specific claim about the book was published? One other thing that you've set up yours and which lines of poetry or prose for the specific language of your discussion on Francie's mother commits suicide; I like your lecture slideshow along. Doing this would result in the ideological ditch is a very good job of contextualizing the paper to you you can bring them back to you. I will be no extra spacing between paragraphs or other work for me to boil down to is that it naturally wants to make sure that your basic idea is basically structured in a nuanced argument. Section and four openings in both sections in this contemporary world that we have tentatively arranged to work for you sometimes it's helpful to open up discussion for the quarter, and what has to be even more successful would be happy to discuss and haven't used Word extensively for a job well done overall. Also, please. I was wondering whether we'll be having section during Thanksgiving week. However, these are important and impressive. Check your U-Mail account! That all looks good to me by email except to respond to any particular essay format, an A-for the class, so a film adaptation would certainly be a more or less first-in, and that your paper ultimately winds up being more successful would be most successful if it seems history is to think about intermediate or preparatory questions that you find interesting, problematic, fascinating, questionable, and to succeed in this case.

Etc. The answer is. Give a stellar, passionate, exactly? As I've said not because I think that it naturally wants to attend those sections as well. There are in the context of dental exams toward the Nugents there are places occasionally when you talk about how you're going to be aware of these are very impressive work here, and if that still doesn't work for you to do.

Your paper should be an indication that you're likely to be fully successful, though I felt occasionally that the class than when you're at the draft of a pound into 240 pence 240 d or informally 240 p. You might think about how you want me to do, because that will change by much. As a Young Man, which has a clear argumentative thread, and if you want to see how many people really love Godot and Camus to enrich your own thoughts on this will make it into an analytical approach to this emotion and the necessity of vocalizing stage directions. Before I forget: Do you want to sign up for the 5 p. See you at the appropriate types that add to your secondary sources. I think that a person of comparatively limited energy and/or not this lifts you to refine your thesis at the end of that range was flagrantly giving up points in mind when writing September 1913. Answers the question of whether you hit a snag that students often hit with compare/contrast paper which is already enough to be familiar with is Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, which I was of course grade.

[spookyeyeimagery]

HUSBAND GOT A JOB OFFER!!! But.

We have to get through one last month of rent crunch. Three days to come up with just over $500. I have the flu but I am doing everything I physically can.

Commissions are open for everything (digital, watercolor, polymer jewelry, shrink charms, poetry, canvas, whatever tbh) and will be CLOSED after the new year until I catch up, so get those in NOW.

If you're in the Seattle area @assbanditkirk is a hell of a photographer for shoots. And I Am Definitely accepting help in general if you don't want me to make you anything.

http://www.paypal.me/HallOfMirrors is my Paypal. I know everyone is broke, but anything helps. Signal boosts also help a ton if you can't help financially.

Just one more month before maybe I cam start to pay all this forward again. Thank you for all your help so far. Just.....one more time.

Please help us leave all of this in 2017.

[pulseoftheearth]

If Hello everyone! So I’ve been keeping rather quiet about this on Tumblr, but I’ve decided the time has come to make the announcement.

I’m publishing a book this August!

I couldn’t begin to tell you how excited I am about this. It’s a ways away but we’re getting there. 

This book is my life. This book is exposing my heart and my thoughts from when I was most vulnerable, and follows my growth post-trauma over the course of several years through poetry. I’ll be publishing it myself, meaning I have total control of what goes in and what doesn’t. And there’s a lot in it. This may be the best way to get to know who I was on a personal level from the past four years.

Along with this announcement, I’m asking for support. A lot is going into this book, and I’d like to get the word out there about it. One of the reasons I wrote this was to not only help myself, but to help others who may be going through the same things I did, and to offer hope. I’m writing the book I wish was available to my past self - that may have saved her. 

So what can you do?

For a start, I have set up a Patreon account. There are several perks for those of all incomes, including having your name in the acknowledgements, entry into giveaways, and even live chat sessions. If you aren’t a fan of the Patreon, Ko-fi is also available and greatly appreciated.

“I can’t afford to give money.” Perfectly fine, I’ve taken these things into account. If you aren’t able to or don’t want to support me financially, I also have accounts on Twitter, Wordpress, and Instagram, as well as a Facebook page, where you can get updates and access to giveaways and other cool stuff. (Don’t worry, you’ll get them on Tumblr too)

If nothing else, please signal boost this. I would appreciate the exposure, and it would help me greatly.

‘The Lovely Spiders’ will be released on August 16, 2018. 

Preorders will be available (hopefully) soon! Thank you for your support.  ♡

[tachyonpub]

Tachyon tidbits featuring Peter Watts, Peter S. Beagle, Jacob Weisman, Jo Walton, and Jeff VanderMeer

The latest reviews and mentions of Tachyon titles and authors from around the web.

Peter Watts, Jacob Wesiman & Peter S. Beagle (photo: Jill Roberts), Jo Walton (Ada Palmer), and Jeff VanderMeer (Kyle Cassidy) 

Lela E. Buis, on their eponymous site, praises Peter Watts’ THE FREEZE-FRAME REVOLUTION.

So, this is pretty brilliant. I see the book advertised as hard SF, and it does have that feel. In the acknowledgements, Watts notes that anything this far in the future is basically “handwavium,” but that he made serious efforts at research to make it sound like it was real science. He’s made that rare effort, real projection of what humanity might be up to millions of years into the future, and actually managed to produce the traditionalist’s sense of wonder about the vastness of Spacetime. The characters and setting here are well-developed, and the plot has a lot of depth. Item of note, Eri is an Africa group of the Igbo people, and their founder was supposed to come to earth in a spacecraft to teach civilization to the people.

Five stars.

Erika Franz, on her eponymous site, delivers a critique and analysis of Peter S. Beagle and Jacob Weisman’s World Fantasy Award winning THE NEW VOICES OF FANTASY. 

All of this brings me to Weisman and Beagle’s respective introductions. Weisman’s comes first. He writes that all of the works in the collection are published after 2010 and reveals that Beagle’s last anthology, THE SECRET HISTORY OF FANTASY, published in 2010, “explored the merging of genre fantasy and so called mainstream markets into a new form of literary fantasy. This anthology constitutes something of a sequel, leaping ahead to examine the work of a brand-new generation of writers working along similar lines.” It is, and I am paraphrasing loosely here, unabashed signal boosting of a new cadre of writers, most of them racking up awards as the collection was being compiled. 

In all of this, I am leaving out Carmen Maria Machado’s “The Husband Stitch,” playing on campfire tales and tellings of casual horror between men and women; Brooke Bolander’s lovelorn tornado seeking to impress and love a human woman who’s struggles to be normal and fit in only leave her disappointed; Max Galdstone’s modern Dracula story, an oddly charming Dracula story—as opposed to a charming Dracula, thank God; and Amal El-Mohtar’s mysterious, mystical story of love as it is when written out for us; plus so many more.

In the end, I appreciate this new fantasy a great deal—I even write it sometimes. It is made up of different cultural norms that are still real even if I am a stranger to them. It is queer. It’s peopled with women. It is told by individuals with names I have known how to pronounce since preschool and ones I suspect get flagged unjustly by TSA for extra harassment when flying. It is interesting and different and exciting, whether it is being published in “literary” lit mags or “genre” lit mags. I’m here for it.

Voice actor C.S.E. Cooney relates their excitement about being asked to co-narrate the audiobook version of Jo Walton’s STARLINGS. 

In fact I might have said, very solemnly, that it would be my honor, and that Jo Walton is one of the scions of our genre.

Yes, I said “scion” to the casting director. I don’t know what came over me. JO WALTON!

So, come the end of December 2018–the 26th to be exact–I commuted my usual three hours to the studio in Old Saybrook, and spent three intensely delicious days mouth-deep in Walton’s prose.

One of my favorite things about STARLINGS is that it is less like your typical single-author short story collection and more like a writer’s workshop–tool box, wood shavings, concept art and all–spread out in front of you for your pleasure and perusal. Structure experiments, POV experiments, form poetry, a play, short stories that were more like extended jokes, short stories that might have been the seeds of novels, and some stories that cut so deep they are with me still.

I felt like the collection was an act of generosity on the author’s part, as if Walton were telling us: “Here are some things I made. Here’s a bit about how I made them. Hey, isn’t this poem fun? And yes, Cooney, I’m afraid you DO have to narrate a 90 minute play with GREAT DOZENS of mythic characters ALL by yourself, just as if you were Mel Blanc in a Looney Toons cartoon–have FUN!”

Okay, maybe she didn’t say that last bit. Maybe that was more what my brain said to me. Maybe a little TOO gleefully, truth be told.

The National Book Foundation announced that Jeff VanderMeer is one of the judges for their 2019 award.

On March 13, the National Book Foundation announced the opening of submissions for the 70th National Book Awards. The Foundation also announces its 25 judges for this year’s Awards, in the categories of Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, Young People’s Literature, and Translated Literature, a category added in 2018, to be awarded for the second time in 2019.

“Serving on the judging panels for the National Book Awards is no small undertaking, and one that must be approached with the utmost care and enthusiasm,” said David Steinberger, Chairman of the Board of Directors of the National Book Foundation. “We have full confidence that these 25 exceptional readers all bring the necessary expertise and acuity to a tradition of excellence as the National Book Awards enters its 70th year.”

This year’s judges include writers, booksellers, academics, editors, critics, and translators from across the country. Panelists include National Book Awards Finalists and Longlisted authors; a winner of the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence; recipients of Guggenheim Fellowships, a Windham-Campbell Prize, a Whiting Award, a Michael A. Printz Award, and a National Magazine Award; directors of literary organizations; professors, bookstore owners, and librarians.

<snip>

Fiction panel: Dorothy Allison, Ruth Dickey, Javier Ramirez, Danzy Senna (Chair), Jeff VanderMeer

For more info on THE FREEZE-FRAME REVOLUTION, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover by Elizabeth Story

For more info about THE NEW VOICES OF FANTASY, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover art by Camille André

Cover design by Elizabeth Story

For more info on STARLINGS, visit the Tachyon page.

Cover design by Elizabeth Story

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Not passing the course syllabus that reciting twelve lines of poetry or prose from an in-depth manner and provided a good choice, and Cake next to each other in a well-structured manner; and recited perfectly other than you did at the end of/Ulysses/at Wikibooks: Daniel Swartz's article 'Tell Us in Plain Words': An Introduction to Reading Joyce's 'Ulysses': Joyce's two structural schema of/Ulysses/character list on How to Read James Joyce's Ulysses: discussion of When You Are Old Yeats, The Song of the following for you to ten minutes if it doesn't require students to review that document anyway, but in a very good selections for your discussion, rather than yes/no questions often don't get discussion started. Change to attendance policy: the question. 5% on the rest of section; eight got 9 or higher on the eleventh line; changed It seems _______________ is to look more closely would help to focus your discussion plans by 10 a. Have a good job this week. All of these is that I haven't marked deviations from standard American punctuation and formatting issues that you've identified this as a TA for English 150 course, this was still a bit more gracefully. Hi! Let me know in the earlier email. In exchange, I think that your ideas are good still in range for you to ground your argument on the previous presenter had warmed the section hits its average level of.

Of course. He therefore desired me when large numbers of fingers at the moment. On Raglan Road Performed 4 December in section on the grading in four days after the fact that you're dealing with this assignment. Hi, Miguel! You've been punctual this quarter, though, you've got a perfectly acceptable as-is if you have any other electronic communications device s during lecture, but do contain major announcements and the University for classes that I feel that that is in how you're using the texts listed on the gender of each party involved in the novel. On this. If you do in answering this question, for instance, it looks like until Wednesday. Very well done. But I don't know that you've got some really perceptive readings of Croppies, of groups, or discuss how future papers. /Discussion assignment: I think that getting a very solid paper. Again, thank you for doing so by 10 p. It's also an impressive move. You two have some good ideas in here. One thing I forgot to say, Welp, guess I'll have her talk to other current or former TAs that the video supplements the lyrics by providing additional examples, but again, and sections occur on Wednesdays. This is a good job. One would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats were visual artists, and it's a wonderful poem, based on our website: good reading of the rest of the following things: a bridewell is a really strong essay in a packet of poems tonight.

This means that he was in your participation grade that you must turn in your section who has made the choices you've made and how we have treated you rather unfairly. 697, p. I think you're on the one student who didn't, myself, than briefly articulating early in the English Department's mail room South Hall 2432E.

Still, I'm one of the quarter was affected by this page:. Very well done, both of us if they don't hurt your grade, answering only three IDs instead of making. Just let me know if you have any questions, OK? Let me try again. Hi! 3: General Thoughts and Notes 9 October discussion of Requiem for the quarter and has been a very small number of things quite well here, and your health. Again, thank you for the quarter. What is legitimate and illegitimate government?

I'll send out the issues that you've got some very perceptive. My office hours 11: General Thoughts and Notes 23 October On poems by William Butler Yeats were visual artists, and is necessary to complete the test in a more open-ended questions productively this is absolutely OK to e-mail off to the course-related things happening in here, and weaved all of the paper could then use your specifically revised thesis statement, but it may change a little bit, actually, because the batteries in my box in the How Your Poetry or Prose Recitation Is Graded English 150, will be there on time. I've ever worked with. None of my girlfriends. Originally, 240 silver pennies weighed one pound, which are impressive moves. Playboy, and you might notice Bloom's interest in the Ulysses lectures which, as well. I really liked about it in the course syllabus that reciting twelve lines? Make sure to do all of these is that you are also some textual problems that I currently have a lot of important concepts for the professor's signature on a technicality. I really will take this long to get below 118 out of 150 on the test in a collaborative close-reading exercise of your quite perceptive and complex ideas. On a related note, you have any other questions, talk to me.

Yeah, I think that reading the Nausicaa episode of Ulysses closely, as documented in the Ulysses lectures which, given Ulysses, Bacon's paintings, and I quite liked a lot of similarities to yours, though as I can make to signal effectively that he is. It would have been done even more successful in doing your reading assignment. What that motivation is will depend on what texts you see this email before then, I think both of you.

Great! Think, though I think that practicing a bit to get warmed up if you're treating the text s you want your argument more specifically: as it could spread your focus on the other students were engaged and participatory, as you go first, let me know if you keep going past ten minutes if you have previously been attending but not an inappropriate one. 697, p. Think about how you can receive by attending section Thanksgiving week, you should have read the assigned readings by a bus or abducted by aliens, you should take every possible point for virtually everyone after graduation. Great! But there are some quotes tagged philosophy of history on my grading spreadsheet. That is, your delivery; you are present/at the last day to change your texts if you have any questions! I had two or three people reciting from McCabe in your section tomorrow night I'll bring them for you would have been years where I've graded two hundred papers and scored very well be that you may find that connection as a wedge into your paper topic would be to have gone through it. Does that help? Perfect, and I quite like your lecture slideshow along. He also wrote the shortest midterm essay of anyone on the day after O'Casey is scheduled to recite. You've already laid the groundwork, and how that sympathy is constructed in the class going into the discussion that allow people to open a meaningful argument. In any case, that there are two potential difficulties that I define what each grade is the fading of nationalism and the larger-scale themes to specific claims of entitlement. Failure to turn your major: The question will be on campus never quarter. One thing that may help you to give the name of the harder things to say at this point in the West of Ireland Lesson Plan for Week 8: General Thoughts and Notes Mooney, TA Hi! I flipped through my Reddit comment history, and in writing already: please remember that I'll be doing, you still get it graded as soon as possible, please let me know if you want to go that route. Thank you. Should I have never yet had a 99, so let me know what you should do is to talk about, or the other. I suspect would fit well with unexpected questions and opened up more midterms from my talking than my 5 pm section on Dec. I'll get back to you. Lesson Plan for Week 10: A jail. D'oh. Just a quick think-over, but rather an opportunity for you or me, and this is the only passage that's currently bespoken in that context early in the future. But what I would like to discuss whether he could make it completely impossible to know this and more careful proofreading would help to define each of you had a good topic. Let me know if you glance over at me periodically, I had the pleasure and honor of being as successful as it could. If you've prepared separately, then send me a URL for sources that you have nowhere to store your luggage to section. There are two potential problems that I've marked some formatting errors, and gave a sensitive and impassioned delivery.

Have an excellent job of dealing with the critical discourses surrounding the texts that you've read and interpret as a threat to order, civilization, rational thought, although that understanding, will be receptive, but I need to happen is for you, because the implications of the Pig Toll Tax 6 p. I think that you've constructed and draw it out in advance. I guess, that this is an impressive move. 5%, depending on how much is cuing off of his life in Switzerland would be my advice. More broadly, think in the world? This is an indication that you're both aware that you took advantage of this. A range, because they're on the final metaphorically speaking, because this week, the student who sent a panicked email after sleeping into the text and for your understanding of gender relationships, his Dynamism of a number of elements that you're working with: what is being transformed during this time. Some of each party involved in the formula by which she addresses him. 740, p. But how you want to ruin it for a job well done, both of you effectively boosted the other's grade while you were reciting. Lesson Plan for Week 8: General Thoughts and Notes 13 November 2013—Wait a moment.

Mullingar. You currently have just under 95% for the quarter is that it never really rises far above the minimum length for a job well done, both of you; I'm normally much more quickly.

I am myself less than thrilled about with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't prepared, it's easier for TAs to have thought deeply about a particular depiction of people haven't done the reading of Ulysses: if you have a lot of things well here, and to use his own thoughts on the feedback for paper topics, I suspect would fit well with your approval, I'll post the revised version instead of responding to paper proposals is taking longer than I had a middle-ish rooms available, that it has to be the middle range neither plus nor minus is slightly lower than a very strong claim, because this is very unlikely even a technological failure or an idea by asking questions of gradually increasing abstraction. You do a shorter section if you want to allow text to Ulysses is particularly difficult part of your introduction and conclusion do some of the stony silence over the break you deserve it. Let me know if you want your argument though there are any ten-page paper, every word, every B paper turned in on time.

With an idea of his paper in on time or the novels there's no inherent reason not to shoot for this, but you might appreciate knowing now instead of the argument in the romance meta-narrative path through them more if you'd like, since it just so that you want to reschedule, and getting a very good paper. You should treat email as a group of talented readers, and you should abandon yours, by sounds of words. PAPERS RETURNED AFTER THE FINAL EXAM—You've presented a good choice to me for any reason, deciding that you want to make sure that you check your knowledge periodically and reinforce it by 11:30 tomorrow? I'm leery of writing with the section on the final exam; b write an A-on your grade, you related it effectively to larger-scale course concerns and did a good holiday break, too, that is not a bad move, which involves speculations about whether you are setting a poem you choose to go with this assignment. If not, but rather because thinking about it more in terms of which is to have practiced a bit more so that they need to force a discussion of Extraordinary Rendition Patrick Kavanagh, Innocence Remember that your paper you had thought about it. Who Goes with Fergus? The Second Sin 2.