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beyond-the-birthday-massacre · 3 years

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Good Night (#little-butterfly-writes contest submission)

Heyy! I wrote the most fluffy self-insert entry I could muster for the #little-butterfly-writes contest hosted by @little-butterfly-writes! I haven’t written for self-inserts for a long time and I’ve forgotten how fun it is to be self-indulgent :)) 10/10 highly recommend you to write one too! I named my MC Athena so I’ll use that name :)

Fandom: MLQC - Gavin & Athena

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1473

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At last, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The entire company had dealt with the high workload for weeks in order to meet the strict deadlines. The heavy pressure was finally off my shoulders after wrapping up the filming and editing for the big project.

The office became more quiet as the crew members left for the day. Currently, I was one of the last people there, Minor being the other. For the past few weeks, we had always been the last ones. I underestimated him and his work ethic. He would say the same phrase around sunset: “Hey, Athena! It’s getting pretty late. Think we should call it a day?”

Every day, I would encourage him to head out first and every day, he’d insist we both leave together.

Minor watched me lock the front doors, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So! Any plans for tonight?” he asked.

Rattling the handle, I murmured, “Not really…” Suddenly rewatching my favourite shows didn’t seem as appealing as it did when I had been busy. The temptation of procrastination vanished when I needed it the most.

Minor glanced at his phone screen. “That’s great! I’ll see ya later, boss!” With that, he walked away.

“Huh?” I stared at his shrinking figure until he turned the corner of the block. He really zoned out, but I didn’t blame him. His expression held nothing but pride and relief that the project was finally over.

***

When I got home, I turned on my laptop. Although Minor never failed to get me out of the office, he couldn’t stop me from working here. Everything was done but revising some materials wouldn’t hurt. Plus, I should look over the reports that I needed to submit next week.

Frankly, I wasn’t sure how much time passed when I got up to take a long shower. After drying off, I grabbed the first comfortable thing in the closet and realized it was Gavin’s white T-shirt.

Gavin had left for a mission a few weeks ago. The mission was highly classified so I decided not to bother him for the duration of the time. My workload started piling up then and I distracted myself as best as I could. Now that work was out of the way, Gavin’s gentle eyes were back in my mind. When I imagined him smiling, I couldn’t help but do so myself. If I couldn’t see him soon, at least I could meet him in my dreams.

I turned off the light and pulled the covers to my chest, staring at the balcony window as I waited to drift off. There were traces of clouds across the glowing moon and I couldn’t bear to turn away from the serene view. It felt like I was staring at it for eternity until a shadow suddenly appeared. His amber eyes shone against the moonlight and the night wind rippled at his STF jacket, sweeping his hood down.

Before I knew it, I was already opening the balcony door, letting the chilly breeze spill in. “Gavin! You’re back!”

He nodded. Despite the time of day, Gavin didn’t look tired. In fact, with his steady composure and uniform, he looked like he was ready for another day at the Special Task Force. “Mm. The mission finished just now. I wanted to see you,” he said matter-of-factly.

No matter how long I hadn’t heard his voice, it was distinct and recognizable. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until I gave him a tight hug. It was then when I felt a sudden drop of temperature and I withdrew abruptly: “Geez, you’re freezing!”

Smiling, he tugged me close again, stroking my black hair. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. But you . . .” He furrowed his brow, noticing my loose-fitting ‘dress’. Even in the dim room, the familiar shade of red on his ears was evident. He shed his jacket and I tried to stop him, but he managed to wrap it around me.

“You need it more,” I insisted. “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“It’s alright. I have something better.”

His hand slipped into mine. I couldn’t help but hold it tighter in hopes of generating more warmth for him. I brought him to the bed and bundled the blanket around him.

“How long were you flying? You know it gets colder at night,” I scolded, embracing him as we laid over the pillows. He wasn’t shivering but I held him close, unwilling to let go.

He burrowed into my chest and I could feel his smile through the thin fabric. “I promise to be more careful next time.”

“You always say that! Especially about your injuries. Speaking of which, let me see them.” Before Gavin could react, I yanked the blanket away, inspecting his forearms and his torso.

“Ahem, I’m-I’m okay, really,” he assured, his ears burning bright again when I pulled at his button up shirt. I only found old scars that had already been engraved into my memory.

Gavin brought my restless hands to his face. His gaze towards me never wavered. “I’m telling you the truth,” he said earnestly and kissed the back of each hand. He wrapped the blanket around us, nuzzling into my chest again.

Relief steadied my heartbeat until he looked up at me and spoke in a low tone: “Before I left for the mission, I swore I wouldn’t get injured.” He paused, pressing closer. “Do I get a reward for honouring this promise?”

Whether he was intentionally giving me the subtle, big, ol’ puppy eyes or not, I couldn’t refuse. Brushing his soft, brown fringe back, I pecked his forehead. “There,” I said, a smile playing across my lips. “How’s that?”

He frowned and cleared his throat. “I also made sure not to skip any meals.”

I gave a peck on his cheek.

“I kept my sleep schedule consistent too.”

“Eight hours?”

“Mm.”

“Was it eight hours or not?”

He nuzzled deeper into the crook of my neck, hiding his expression. Gavin’s face seemed to have warmed up since his arrival. I started laughing when he playfully bit me.

“Okay, okay, I understand. Agent B-7 has a tight schedule and he works very hard. Here,” I leaned towards his mouth and he closed his eyes, waiting expectantly. His anticipation made my heart flutter, but I couldn’t resist messing with him. In the last second, I moved lower and pressed my lips to his own neck, nibbling it for good measure and for payback.

His soft groan was barely audible before he pulled me back, pinning me down into the pillows. “I don’t think you’re being fair, Athena. Seems like you’ve forgotten about your own sleep schedule.”

I froze but I tried my best to keep my cool. “My sleep schedule is fine, thank you very much, Officer.”

Feigning doubt, he hummed. “I’m not sure. You’ve been working overtime ever since I left.” He narrowed his eyes, carefully examining mine for reaction. “If Minor hadn’t insisted any earlier, you’d be at the office until midnight every day.”

My eyes widened. “Minor?! Aw, why am I even surprised?” Now to think of it, Minor had started to work longer hours around the day of Gavin’s departure. All this time I was hoping it was because Minor had been engrossed with the Miracle Finder project, not because of a task assigned by Officer Gavin.

“It’s almost 1 am. I should’ve found you fast asleep by now. How do I know if this isn’t a bad habit of yours?” Gavin leaned in, his proximity repelled my fleeting thoughts. His blue and black uniform made him seem so much more intimidating. “So,” he murmured, “are you ready to confess?”

I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt, but his grin knocked down my wishful thinking. “Okay, okay. I lied. My schedule is terrible.”

“Mm.” Satisfied, he released his grip on my wrists. “Let me help you fix it. Is this okay?” He cradled me in his arms, snuggling close. “If not, I can count sheep with you again.”

I giggled, recalling that night with all the sheep. It felt like nothing yet everything had changed. Sighing contently, I leaned into his broad chest. His heartbeat was calm, lulling me to drowsiness. “I think it’s working,” I mumbled, “as always.”

Gavin chuckled as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. His steady gaze was genuine and pure. “I sleep better when I’m with you too.”

My eyelids grew heavy and with the last source of energy that I could gather, I lifted my head and kissed him. His lips were soft against mine and when his parted in shock, I deepened the kiss. I could hear his heartbeat racing as I slumped against him again.

“There. For everything you’ve done for me.”

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Final notes: I hoped you like it! A lot of things have changed in the MLQC fandom, but I hope everyone is doing well! Reading/writing anything about comfort characters really helps me so I had fun writing this!

I also write for luciensgunsee in Instagram --- it’s mlqc x reader stuff so if you’re interested in that, do check it out! I might put the extended, uncut versions of those scenarios here in Tumblr?? If anyone is interested, please let me know :))

#little-butterfly-writes contest #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc fluff #mlqc scenario #mr love queen's choice #evol x love #mlqc scenarios #fluff writing #love and producer #mr love gavin #me stuff :))#my writing #my stuff #beyond-the-birthday-massacre

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talistheintrovert · 4 years

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Deleting my fic

Hi everyone! I just posted an explanation in my Salem Fic about why I will be taking it down in the next few days. If you like, you can go look at it HERE or you can read it under the cut, but I felt the need to explain.

I'm posting this to let everybody know that I am taking this fic down. I will leave it up for another day or two, and then it is permanently coming down as I have no desire to associate myself with this fic or its origins anymore.

I initially received a single anon comment on this fic when I posted it way back over a year ago:

ANON: Hi if you are going to borrow ideas for fics from other people, even if it’s out there on tumblr, you should at least credit them for the original idea.

and I responded the way I thought I should at the time:

hi, i'm gonna be honest - I forgot where this idea had even come from until you brought it up.

At the time i was planning to do this idea, i considered myself friends, or at least close acquaintances with the person who threw it out there, and offered to write it. Then I became very busy and decided to abandon the idea.

Then, after a bunch of things happened, I stopped talking to that person, and I'm fairly certain they wouldn't even want to see the fic or the credit, despite the idea no longer having anything to do with them.

When I found the idea again, all I had was a word document with a bunch of plot points and ideas written down, and was suddenly struck with the inspiration to write it again.

Because I had honestly forgotten to credit the person involved I will be sure to do that when I update it.

However, i do not appreciate you coming on anon to accuse me like this. I would never intentionally fuck someone else over, not EVER, and I resent the implication that I would. I will, however, be sure to credit Alex, because despite me no longer being friends with her, and the fact that we don't really talk anymore, I respect her enough as a human being not to let her think I'm treating her with disrespect.

Thanks for the anon.

I then reached out to Alex to clarify with her that I had not - nor would I EVER - intentionally steal the idea, and that I was going to clarify that on the fic itself, and she agreed, and we discussed the dissolution of our friendship and then didn't speak again. I went ahead and linked the post with her initial idea in it, which also has our interaction where I offered to write it.

The circumstances surrounding the whole situation were unfortunate - I perceived her support of a certain fic as potentially harmful, and sent her One Single Anonymous Ask about it. I was relatively polite (although I do understand that anything on Anon can be perceived as impolite) and I asked her specifically because there was a rift growing among halves of the fandom and Alex had always been the person I knew to be the most level-headed and I figured if she could explain why she was right and I was wrong then I would apologise and leave it alone. Unfortunately, as with everything in fandom, it blew up.

I was not the only person who had taken issue with this fic, or the attitude that accompanied it, and MANY people - some that I knew, but most that I didn't - started to also send in asks, and a lot of them were a lot more accusatory, and I'm sure some of them were trolls deliberately designed to rile up the drama even further. Alex has since expressed to me that this all blew up around the time she was having a hard time, and I apologised to her as it was NEVER my intention to launch some kind of attack on her, or anyone. I explained that the reason I went on anon was because at the time, the issue of the fic was so personal to me and I wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone I was friends with online at a limited capacity, because it was part of my life. Just as Alex's own troubles at the time were unbeknownst to me.

I have since opened up about my personal experiences with some internet friends, and in the last two years have grown and learned how to move on with my life, but at that point, the pain was very raw and I didn't want to expose myself to that kind of drama where I would be forced to relive the trauma over and over again.

As it turned out, it didn't matter.

People decided that because I was posting about these issues (without necessarily explicitly bringing up my personal experiences), that not only did I send that one ask to Alex, but that I was responsible for MULTIPLE asks, that I had organised some kind of coordinated attack, that the entire rift was my fault and that I'd done it maliciously. And I spent MONTHS getting vicious, nasty, hateful anons that didn't even all address the issues they supposedly had with me, just told me I was a waste of space, that I didn’t belong, that I shouldn’t exist. I am sure Alex received her own number of those too, and I am truly sorry for that because no-one deserves to go through anything like that.

After Alex and I talked for the last time, I thought we had moved on. I unfollowed her and a number of other creators not because I had anything against them personally but because I realised this was an issue we were never going to agree on, and rather than stoke the flames I chose to step back from them entirely, so that I no longer had to see the content I was uncomfortable with. I respect her as a person, and as a content creator, and regardless of whether I am an avid follower of her anymore, I still support her ability to create and speak freely. I have never blocked her, nor have I ever sent any kind of anon/non-anon hate to her, and I have never, NEVER plagiarised, from her or anyone else.

And yet.

Close friends of mine within the fandom, friends that I don't even consider just fandom friends anymore - friends that I would live, breathe and die for, friends who I love more than anything in the world - have been periodically, over the last six or so months, receiving various anons claiming to be someone who has "had too much to drink" and telling them that I am a bad person, that it's "well known within the fandom" that I'm a plagiarist, and that it is "tiring to see such hypocrisy" when they preach about original content and then remain friends with me.

TO BE CLEAR: I don't think that Alex would do this.

So before anyone gets it twisted, this isn't some kind of EXPOSE where I drag someone's dirty laundry into the open, because I am absolutely not that kind of person, and the one time I waded into fandom drama, it caused this mess, and it ended my friendship with someone who had basically been the cause of me getting into this fandom in the first place. So no, I am not accusing Alex, or any of her friends, of sending these anons.

I understand if they dislike me because of what transpired over a year ago, and I have my own regrets about the entire situation, and I have no desire to bring it all back up again. I'm not doing this to get anyone to go after them or anyone else, because I don't think it's anyone's fault except the anon people in my friends' askboxes. My friends have never publicly addressed the asks, except for a single post this afternoon where Abby told the person to stop, and didn't even answer the ask or explicitly talk about what was said in it.

I don't mind if you hate me. Whether you dislike me on your own time or you do it in my askbox; I've gotten pretty used to anon hate, and I genuinely don't mind people throwing some my way - this is the internet. But when you're going out of your way to harass my friends, I cannot just ignore it.

That's my family you're talking to.

Whoever this anon person/anon people are, you are deliberately taking your personal opinion of me, and you are walking up to my family and telling them that I am not worth their time. You are telling them that I am a plagiarist, despite the SINGLE instance of "plagiarism" (this fic) being an honest mistake, and one that I immediately reconciled once I realised. This fic that I haven't updated since, because I wasn't sure when it would be acceptable for me to do so without upsetting Alex further, and have now decided to delete. I considered deleting it quietly, without explanation, as I did another one of my fics earlier this year (simply because it was a WIP that I was never planning on finishing) but I realised that deleting this fic without an explanation could potentially give this anon person/people more fuel to come after me with, and I really just want this whole drama to be over. It's been a year, and I have no desire to start the debate again, nor do I wish any ill will towards anyone, especially Alex, and I do not want to cause undue drama later down the line when this anon person/people returns to my friends askboxes to accuse them of helping me "hide the truth" or some other bullshit that has nothing to do with them or anyone else.

I'm putting this out in the open to make myself very clear: I am not a plagiarist. And if you have any assumptions that you feel the need to jump on anon to yell, it should be coming to me, not to my family.

This fandom was the first real fandom experience I had on tumblr. I have been involved in fandom culture for years, but always from afar, and it was because of Alex's fics that I found my way into this place, that I met the people I now call my family, and that I rediscovered my own confidence in my writing, confidence that had been lacking for some time due to my personal life. I will always be grateful to her for that.

My writing is my writing. It is deeply personal to me, as it is to every writer, and as someone who plans to have a career in writing, it is incredibly important to me that my work is my own. I would never intentionally steal (or as that anon commenter put "borrow") anything from anybody, and the implication that I would is truly hurtful, especially when it seems to come from a place of exclusively hate, with no actual understanding of the situation. A troll.

I would like to repeat myself: I DO NOT THINK THIS IS ALEX'S PROBLEM and anyone who jumps in her asks to talk about it is not really doing it for the "truth" or for anything other than their own desire to stir up drama. I will be sending the link to this chapter to her myself, because I do not wish for this to be something she stumbles across and assumes I am trying to pin the blame on her for something I categorically do not think she would ever do.

I just want to move on, and I want my friends to be left out of whatever vendetta this anon person/people have.

I am certain I will make more mistakes as I go forward, because that is the nature of growth, but I would like to believe that I have never done anything, especially any of this, as a desire to be malicious or to hurt anyone, even those people who I fundamentally disagree with and do not interact with anymore. I'm not remotely begging for sympathy in this situation - I don't need it, I am confident enough in myself to know that I would not intentionally hurt anyone - I am simply asking for my friends, my family, to be left out of whatever this bullshit is.

I'm sorry if you were expecting a chapter, and I'm sorry this was so long, but I wanted to be clear about where I stand right now.

The 100 is coming to an end soon, and soon all we will have of this show and this fandom is memories, tumblr content, and friendships, and I do not want to spend any more of the limited time we have while this show is still on the air, spreading negativity or letting it be spread. This isn't to start drama, this is to end it.

#fandom wank #the 100 #my fics #the first to speak is the first to lie #to be clear i fully expect this to blow back on me somehow #but i would rather that #than have this person or people continuously harass my friends #it's not fair on them #or on alex and her friends either #because i'm sure these same people are just as likely to be malicious to them #anyway #i know that this is small potatoes considering the state of the world at the moment #but i don't wanna continue letting hateful behaviour slide #regardless of how small the stakes are #spreading positivity and kindness starts from the smallest incidents #and anyone still trying to stir up this drama from a year ago is a TROLL #plain and simple

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scarlettedwanda · 4 years

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Alright so here's the deal, I don't use Tumblr anymore. Ever since last year when the guidelines were changed and the website just turned into absolute shit.

However

I do still occasionally pop on here, look through some tags and what not and yes, I did post not too long ago, about Unas Annus.

So naturally, I'm going to make a post and it's going to piss a whole lot of people off and for once in my life, I'm embracing the idea of losing a whole lot of followers.

Pewdiepie. Lately and for absolutely no reason, has been getting a whole other wave of hate and people genuinely happy that one of his places was robbed and worse, people wishing he'd kill himself or get killed and for absolutely stupid fucking reasons.

This dates back a few years, to the time he said a word that he shouldn't have said. But is Felix the only white person to ever say that word? No. Did he make a mistake? Yes. Does he deserve the title of being a racist? Absolutely not. Felix did not say the word to intentionally hurt someone. It slipped out as it does with thousands and thousands of gamers only this time, Felix had caught it on video.

Just this summer I overheard my white as fuck younger brother, saying the word over his headset in a heated game of Rainbow Six Seige. And the thing is, he's a nobody so no one will ever be upset with him the way people did with Felix. My brother isn't some rich Youtuber so these people over Tumblr, or the people over Twitter who crave the feeling of ruining a rich man's career, will never go after my brother like a pack of hyenas.

Now Malcolm, this isn't the only proof that he's a racist. Let us not forget the Fiver video where he paid some kids to hold up nazi propaganda. Yes he did, but he also wasn't expecting it to go through. Half the fucking people on YouTube are looking for that shock factor, need a way to gain views and you're damn right that Felix thought it would be an interesting way to pull attention.

In that same video, Felix apologized. He was shocked and clearly felt bad enough that he found the need to apologize for the incident happening. It's a joke that stems from far too many jokes on television shows or movies and yet, no one freaks out whenever South Park teases about the idea of an actual eight year old imprisoning red heads, or actively dressing as a member of the KKK. We live in a society which pushes the line for humor and entertainment and people don't think. Celebrities and such say things, do things that they don't mean or feel or want. Felix was just another example of a guy who got boned for something that some people took a bit too seriously.

So why not take it down? Why even post that part? Simple; Felix made a mistake and wanted everyone to learn from it. Without someone making roughly the same mistakes as he's stumbled into. He wants people to take from this lesson and realize that these people on Fiver, will do whatever they're paid to do, whether they realize what they're promoting or not. He is warning everyone not to do that, showing people that he's capable of mistakes and will take the back lash from it because he genuinely doesn't have those views.

Now, onto the latest stupidly. The woman from Dr. Phil where he made yet another mistake. Fuck, people obviously didn't watch the video before going on this rant that Felix is a transphobe, because in the video he only misgenders this person twice. He doesn't call her by the wrong pronouns on purpose, he takes in her appearance, her voice and her name and made a conclusion that this person reminded him a lot of Jeffrey Star.

In fact, for most of the video he calls her "Walmart Jeffrey Star" and it's literally no different than any nickname you would give to a character on television or movies. Never once does she state her pronouns and if you aren't reading the description under her name when she first appears, then you can easily make the mistake of not knowing her pronouns.

Felix corrected himself the first time it was brought up that she was a transgender woman, he apologized and yet people on here are labeling him unfairly for a genuine mistake.

Now let's move onto my proof. The proof that people are blowing him up and ignoring hard facts that Felix is a genuine guy. We'll start with his wife, Marzia, the sweetest person I've ever seen. Even the most avid Pewdiepie haters can agree that Marzia is precious, so why the hell would she still be with him after everything, if he really was a racist? Or if he was a nazi or transphobic? The simple answer; he isn't. She is the closest person to him, and yes hypothetically he could be hiding the dark sides of himself, but Marzia lives with him. She married him and she is also on YouTube and online and I'm positive she's being flooded with these stupid comments that the man she married, is a racist transphobe.

After being together for only two years, my fiancé and myself know everything about one another. Neither of us can hide parts of our personality from each other because the truth is, you get lazy over time. You stop worrying that the person you're involved with is going to hate you over it, and you let your guard down. Felix and Marzia have been together far longer and even after all these accusations came out, Marzia still agreed to marry him.

And then there's Seán. Seán who advocates mental health and who is a very sweet person. And does anyone actually think Seán would lie about how genuine Felix is? Do people think that this person, who's struggled with depression, would surround himself with a person who hates other people? Do people genuinely believe that Seán would invite Felix over to his house, hang out with him, collaborate both in person and over line, for views? Or do you think that maybe, just maybe, they really are close friends? That Felix is the good person that Seán has said he is?

Honestly, a lot of people's opinions are misguided by people who just hate the rich. Pewdiepie is a successful YouTuber, arguably the most successful so of course he's going to have a lot of haters. But unlike people like Donald fucking Trump, a good comparison in this case being another successful rich man; Felix actually cares about his viewers. He cares about his community and doesn't have some stupid superiority complex. If you want to hate on a successful rich man, complain about a guy who actually wants to build a wall to keep the Mexicans out of his country, throw hate at a man who created his own concentration camps for children because this idea that Felix is a bad person, is absolutely disgusting.

So, please unfollow me, block me, or whatever. Because this idea that Felix is disgusting is wrong. I'm not going to fight every post I ever see, I'm going to ignore them and let my own post speak for itself.

But to any Pewdiepie haters; go fuck yourself.

#pewdiepie #youtube #felix kjellberg

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lblwlw · 4 years

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Hello!

First post here, but I have a long history with tumblr. Tumblr has always sort of been a place for me to escape because few of my friends ever had my URL/followed me. This time it’s a little more important.

CW: Brief mentions of sexual occurrences with men, brief talk of depression, nothing too serious or graphic

TLDR; I’ve suppressed my gayness on accident for basically my whole life, identified as bi, married a man, realized I’m gay, am now figuring out my life.

Warning, this is a LONG post.

I have always been been fascinated with sexuality, more specifically same sex relationships. I was always interested in the idea of being in a same sex relationship but told myself, “no, that’s not me”. Eventually in middle school I played with the idea of being bisexual when I learned what that meant. I said, perfect. I can tell my internet friends I like girls, too, but I won’t have to tell anyone else and I can just worry about boys then at school and for my parents. I had a few crushes on boys, but the thought of actually dating them terrified me and so I very rarely did more than think about them a lot and just tell my friends that I was “too ugly” or whatever else, or “too awkward.” What they didn’t know was that through MySpace I met a girl and had a huge crush on her. We talked a lot and we said we were dating. I never really told anyone. That eventually fizzled out.

Over time I got bullied a couple times because classmates found my MySpace and found that I identified as bi. I quickly learned it was something I didn’t want to talk about. I dealt with a lot of anxiety and depression throughout all of school. In high school I steadily crushed on one boy almost all four years, but looking back I think I really just enjoyed and wanted to be his friend. Or I just kind of picked him as the one I liked the most so I had a crush to be a normal girl. I dated two boys the entirety of high school, the first one I broke up with because once he finally asked me out (after I “liked him”) and we did relationship things, like kissing, I was not all about it. It didn’t feel right. I thought, maybe I just didn’t like him. Next boyfriend, I wasn’t entirely objected to kissing him but it wasn’t my favorite. It got more frustrating when he wanted to do more. I wasn’t so opposed to him touching me, but when it came to touching him I was like “this ain’t it”. I stayed with him anyway, hoping I would “get over it” until he broke up with me. I wonder now if he could tell I wasn’t into it.

There was actually a time in which I thought, maybe I should date girls? One of my friends was dating a girl, and I thought that was wonderful. I went to her to tell her that I had been thinking maybe I’d rather date girls. I totally blocked this conversation out of my head until recently.

Once I was done with high school I was discouraged but tried to date a few different guys. None of them went that fantastically. If I met them online, I usually came up with a reason we couldn’t meet. “Maybe this just won’t work” It was fun to talk and flirt but when it came down to bringing it into real life I’d panic because that meant kissing a guy again, and possibly having sex. It made me totally uncomfortable. Finally I said, “I wish I was just into girls, ugh.” Remembered that I was, and that I should try it finally. I matched with this sweet girl that was about a year younger than me. She seemed so put together and so kind. We went on a few dates, getting ramen, fancy cupcakes, riding on a trolly in the city, etc. I remember when I got to kiss her in public and I was SO pumped to be seen doing that! Another time, I believe I drove her home but we parked away from her house and made out in my car. I still remember so much of it vividly.

Eventually I realized that if I was seriously dating her, she would want it to be known. I’d have to face my fears and tell my family. For some reason, this absolutely terrified me. It shouldn’t have but it did. I thought through my options, and decided I should just find a nice guy that will love me and spend my life with me so I don’t have to do this anymore. I did the unspeakable act of basically just ghosting her and pursued a guy from work who, realistically, kind of freaked me out. Thanks to good old compulsive heterosexuality, I read this as my attraction to him. Thankfully, he was pretty easily attracted to me. I recall early in the relationship wishing I hadn’t done that awful thing to that girl, and that I wish I was still dating a girl. Nothing was technically wrong with my relationship that I had now, but something felt off. Like I was missing something. I tucked that away somewhere in my head and enjoyed building an amazing friendship with this man. I did love him, and I still do. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, we have a lot of shared interests and he’s taught me so much intentionally and unintentionally.

We got married last year and while I felt grateful I had this amazing person beside me, I remember a part of me wondering if this was right for me. I had this weird little empty pocket somewhere in my heart. That I had given up my young adulthood maybe, and that I could have experienced being with... a woman, for real. I thought, I wish I could have met my husband later in life, maybe. Maybe then I’d have gotten my desires for women out of the way and then been with him forever. Because I do love him, he’s a good person and deserves to be loved. I enjoyed the wedding as a big party that I got to have with my family, but I just remember wondering where that extreme excitement was that everyone always described. Was I broken?

Now over a year later, I was sitting at home one day feeling lost and depressed. I had been on TikTok and saw all these young people having fun and I wished that I had spent more time trying to have fun in the past, before I got married. I thought, I could do it now, but what if something happened and I somehow I fell for one of these girls while being with my husband? Wait... why would I even think that? I started to really analyze this thought. I thought, if I was bi like I had always identified, why could I not be happy with my husband? Well, I was, but something was missing. This thought popped into my head: Oh no. What if I am gay?

What?! Why would I think that? That’s crazy. I would have known as a kid like everyone says. Right? That’s how that works. I chalked this up to feeling like I was missing out and tried to stop thinking about it. It was hard not to, though. And so I googled one morning while out listening to the birds, after escaping bed before my husband rose to avoid his intimacy: “lesbian married to a man”

This article came up about a woman who had been married to a man for many years and they had kids. She started to question herself, and her attraction to him. I don’t remember all of it but I remember getting really uncomfortable but also having this weird sense of calm. That finally, I felt like I identified with something. I wasn’t really sure though. I sent a message to the lady who wrote the article. She replied a week later telling me that she had a podcast called Lesbian Chronicles. I said, okay, I need to listen to this. I listened to about two episodes or so when they mentioned this thing called “The Master Doc” and the reddit sub called Late Bloomer Lesbians. I was like “Holy crap, a community??”

I logged onto reddit for the first time ever. I saw all these women posting in similar situations to me. I found “The Master Doc” and “Straight women don’t say...”

It was like a light bulb went off. Oh my god, everything makes sense! Maybe I’m NOT broken! I remembered all the women that I had crushes on. All the times I thought about women but told myself I was just “weird” and tried not to think about it. I always thought, no I can’t be gay because I wasn’t sure of it as a kid. Now I realized that women especially are fed a straight narrative. It’s “normal” to not be attracted to men the way they are to you. It’s normal to not totally enjoy sex with men... When I learned that we’ve been told this, and it isn’t really true... I wanted to cry. Now I was in the biggest “pickle” ever. I have this man who loves me, who I said vows to swearing I loved him the same forever. Did I just accept who I was and what I did and live with it? Did I break up with him? That seemed to harsh. I heard a lot of women in the same position say they spoke to a therapist. I immediately googled therapists in my area that specialized in LGBTQ+ issues, sent an email ASAP, and felt a little bit of relief. I knew this was real because after years of playing with the idea of seeing a therapist, this came so naturally when I needed help with this.

Now I am here. I feel very confident that I am gay, and my dad knows now. I tried to bring it up with my husband but it didn’t go very well. He currently thinks that maybe I’m just a sad bisexual who hasn’t been able to express her bi-ness. I am at a point a conversation needs to happen again. I told myself when my lesbian flag and pin came in the mail, I would talk to him again. It’s being delivered today. I am terrified, to say the least. It feels so wrong to “betray” this man who has dedicated to much time and work to giving us as good a life as he can. But I need to live my truth. It will come. I’m low-key excited for it. I hope maybe this helps someone going through the same thing.

-Anonymous Married Lesbian

#lesbian #married to a man #wlw #late blooming lesbian #late bloomer #gay #pride

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invelleity · 5 years

Note

psst. be honest. all of the questions. go.

i can’t believe jeanette is tryina kill me in public and i’m still love her??? | not accepting anymoooore | @ltbroccoli

cracks knuckles here we go ( odd numbers 1-9 are here )

2. Are aesthetics important to you? If they are, why?

Not very. It’s fun and cute and all, but I care a whole lot more about “clicking” with people and having fun writing with them.

Exception: If someone’s aesthetic is so overblown that I can’t even find the pages on the blog or read the text, I.....won’t interact with that tbh.

4. How do you explain rp to someone in the real world?

(kicks down my roommate’s door at 10pm) “OK so I’m writing— stop screaming, it’s me,— I’m writing a character in Security and you’re like a double black belt or some shit, can you explain how—”

( My roommates all know it’s a thing I do but I’ve never sent them a link or shown them any of the actual writing. They’ve met a bunch of y’all over like Rabbit streams and @rumdaydreams irl though so like.... They Know. )

More under the cut

6. Do you prefer writing male muses or female more? Why?

Ehhh, depends on my mood. I lean towards female muses in general ( definitely got a bigger chunk of ladies on my list, for sure for sure ) but I love my boys.

8. Name any three things about the rpc that bother you.

Uhhhh A) We’re all such dumb socially awkward blobs so it’s often hard to get to know new people.

B) The feel that if you have a good relationship with one person who writes a canon muse, it’s some kind of lowkey betrayal to write with other people who write the same muse??

C) How much I, a certified card-carrying dumbass, stress myself out about posting on a “regular” schedule. Does that count? Like I want the blogs to look “presentable” lmao and me@me Calm The Fuck Down.

10. Have you ever had a bad experience with commissions? As either someone who makes them or as someone who buys them?

N / A

11. What do you know now about rp that you wish you knew when you first started?

Uhhhh, when I first started was long enough ago and the community was so different a lot of those lessons no longer apply. I wish when I finally jumped over to Tumblr I’d realized quicker how the new like....basic ways of meeting people and posting and all worked, which was mostly just a “calm down and go with the flow more, let go of your stupid rigid old habits” lmaooo.

12. Have you been involved in drama? Do you regret it?

yES. Yeah. Hahaha ha h.

But ummm, not usually. No. Most of my drama has been either A) me posting the very very softest, most diluted version of barely-touching on my politics and my real goddamn life and people being fuckin butthurt as hell about or B) cutting people who were toxic and draining out of my life. So.

13. Have you ever thought about leaving rp? What caused it? What changed your mind?

cw suicidal ideation ment

Yeah. Once I actually did — when I started college I just didn’t have the time, so I peaced from the larger community to just write with close friends for a while. I’ve also considered leaving the T.umblr RPC a few times, but really only because of long bad depressive episodes. Coming back and “not wanting to literally die irl ha Ha” and catching up with my drafts gets me back on track lmao.

14. Do you think rp has had a positive or negative affect on your life or you as a person?

Positive! Sometimes I worry that I spend too much time wrapped up in fiction and miss my real life, but I’ve learned to keep my time more separate so now it’s just good to have a healthy hobby that makes me happy. Also I’m definitely a much better writer for it, and there a lot of networking skills I think translate to real workplace skills so it’s 👌

15. How has rp changed you personally?

See above, tbh. And it gives me a lot of good outlets for writing ideas that would otherwise stew in my head until I hated myself for never ever writing any lmao. It’s good.

16. If you could change one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? Why?

Oh, I dunno. I wish I could post replies from mobile more easily, god. That’d keep me a lot more on top of my drafts lmao.

17. Have you ever sent a message to yourself on anon? Why?

Not on any of the rp blogs. ;^)

18. Have you ever sent hate to yourself on anon? Why?

No, wtf

19. Do you delete anon hate or post and address it? Why?

Depends on the hate — things I feel need to be addressed or I want to be clear about not tolerating I’ll post. Personal hate and mean shit I delete.

Or if it’s stupid and makes me laugh I will definitely post that shit.

20. Have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with?

Sometimes. If a partner is actually pressuring me I’m real good at saying uhhh hey, fuck off about that? but sometimes partners will perfectly-innocently be enthusiastic about things I’m not super comfortable with and that’s harder to bring up. So it’s..... more like I pressure myself, whoops.

21. Have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to?

Ehh. Not really. Sometimes I’ll follow a friend of a friend despite lack of interest just because, like.... My friends are smart and good, maybe I’m just not getting the right “vibe” from their blog as who really they are. Sometimes that just means we never click and I unfollow them later. Or sometimes @rumdaydreams drags me straight to mutual hell and we write 20,000 unfinished bullshit and meet irl and she actually talks me into wholeass new blogs and muses. So, you know. Mix bag.

22. What would make you block someone?

Red flags for manipulation and lowgrade emotional a.buse, especially ones I viscerally feel in my stomach from previous experiences. Obvious r.ight-leaning politics ( Weirdly, I’m not particularly comfortable around people who don’t think I or my friends deserve to be treated like human beings! A character quirk, haha! )

Also ngl sometimes I block people just to remind myself I’ve followed them before and I don’t wanna re-follow them six times and look like I’m trying to intentionally harass them. My memory is bad but the block button always knows, lmao. 😅

23. Have you ever stolen something from someone else?

Not intentionally — I try very hard not to steal hc from duplicates or take plots without asking. But, y’know, sometimes an idea sticks in your head and you eventually just forget where it originally came from.

24. Have you ever had something stolen from you? If so, how did you handle it?

Not that I’m aware of.

25. Are you open to duplicates? Why / why not?

Absolutely, for the most part! I like seeing other perspectives, and especially since @thewrongsorts is such a bigass multi it lowkey just makes my life easier.

There are a few exceptions — less because they’re duplicates and more because there are hc/fanon I just......dislike enough I don’t wanna write with them. Not a feeling that’s limited to duplicates tbh.

26. How do you feel about vague posting?

Ehhh. It’s like not a great thing, but I get the appeal. I tend to unfollow if someone posts a lot of it because then they’re just passive-aggressive as a person, but the occasional vagueblog I don’t mind. Sometimes you gotta get shit off your chest but you don’t wanna make it a wholeass call-out, I get it.

27. Do you follow people even if they don’t follow you back?

Generally I unfollow. I’m here to write, if we’re not interacting it’s clogging my dash. ( Honestly I unfollow mutuals eventually if we never write.... ) But very occasionally someone’s got such good #takes and hc that I stick around just bc I stan.

28. Do you read people’s rules before following or interacting?

A l w a y s.

29. What is your opinion on “reblog karma” and do you practice it?

It’s nice! Like.... I wouldn’t require anyone to do it, but it makes people feel better about their blogs, it’s polite. I know I’m happier getting memes as well as passing them along. You know, be social. Connect with people. I always try to practice it, yeah.

30. How have you responded to popular slang used on tumblr? Do you use it in every day life? Do you use it at all?

Uhhh, yeah. My irl social circles are a lot of dumb gay millennials, we use a lot of dumb internet slang.

31. Is there something you don’t know the meaning of but you haven’t asked anyone because you think it’s supposed to be general knowledge?

Oh yeah! Joined Tumblr rpc ten years late with Starbucks! But also like.... I’m a web developer. 90% of my irl workskills are being good at Googlin’ shit. So I’ve pretty much always found the answer on my own, at least. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

32. Was there ever something you had to ask someone to explain?

( See above. )

33. Have you ever experienced discrimination?

Here or irl or....? I mean yes in any case, but much less often in the rpc specifically. This blog is a lot less outspoken ( both about politics or about who I....am....generally ) than most of my others or me irl.

Shoutout to that time I complained one (1) time about how copacetic the H.arry P.otter rpc is and an actual irl n.eon.azi jumped in my inbox lmaooooooo.

34. How do you feel about personal blogs following your rp blog?

Uhhh, I don’t love it? But if they mostly chill and don’t fuck with my actual threads I usually ignore them. ¯\_( ‘ ‘ )_/¯

35. Have you ever cried while writing a reply?

No. I’m not like......good at crying. 😐

36. Do you read other people’s threads or do you only read your own?

Depends on the blog. Some multis I follow are in fandoms I just like don’t even understand, so I don’t read those. Sometimes I just don’t got the energy. But I read a lot of my friends’ other threads or threads on blogs I stan.

Good writing is good shit and I’m.....a big 👀 bitch. Tbh.

37. What’s one thing that other people seem to hate that doesn’t bother you?

Call-out posts, bringing real life politics into rp, generally acknowledging that we have lives outside of the fictional world that affect how we read and interact with fiction.

( 👏 The O.rder 👏👏 of the 👏 P.hoenix 👏👏 is A.ntif.a 👏👏👏 )

I don’t want to ever push that onto other people though, definitely. (Especially people affected by terrifying irl politics and coming here for escapism. )

38. How do you feel about tagging triggers? Do you tag them? How do you determine what is triggering content and what isn’t?

Always 👏👏 tag 👏👏 fucking 👏 triggers 👏👏👏

I tag things that are common or obviously upsetting, and if someone asks I add whatever tags they need to my list — the “list” is mostly a mental tally so I occasionally fuck up, but god I feel strongly about triggers.

Let 👏 people 👏 who are hurting 👏👏 live. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

39. What advice would you give to someone new to rp?

Poking around to see how other people seem to “operate” and scrolling through posts about how to get started is so so so fucking helpful! Don’t be afraid to do it!

Also reach out to people as much as you can work up the spoons to. If they’re rude back to you, like..... They were never worth your time anyhow. You dodged a bullet.

( Value yourself 2k19 )

#i clearly numbered something wrong in there but uhhhhh oh well.#jeanette tag #answered #ask games #mun stuff #rpc #lonnnnngass post #under the cut #long post for ts #oh jeannete i.....love you #icb i answered all of these #what a day to be alive #icb i ended up tagging kate in this TWICE #kate tag #ltbroccoli

21 notes · View notes

get-a-new-lease-on-life · 5 years

Text

A New Lease on Life - #59

WELL. It's been about a donkey's age since I've been able to update this. Normally I'd apologize for the wait…but…well, honestly, I've been beating myself up enough as it is and it's not like it happened out of the blue. Kinda-brief update for anyone wondering: I've warned about an impending grief hiatus since my uncle Bob's cancer diagnosis, and the hiatus came to pass in December. Uncle Bob finally lost his fight to cancer after two years of treatment and fading. The end came on rather suddenly but after the deathwatch he went peacefully and without pain. His death really messed me up, especially since I was already suffering from depression. Our first Christmas without Bob was also our last Christmas with Granny Chance, his mother and my grandmother…she suffered a massive stroke in January and died soon afterward. In the space of a month, my family and I lost two members, one right after the other. In a word, the whole situation has been FUCKED and it's still not completely over. There are good days, and bad days…and, to quote a certain Del Toro film, "Then there are the really bad days." Between those, we're all slowly working our way through the fallout and healing process. This chapter is the first I've been able to finish since SEPTEMBER, largely because all of my stories are currently in plot-required angsty-dramatic phases and I CANNOT WRITE SAD SCENES when I'm depressed. It's entirely IMPOSSIBLE, they always come out farcical or they just don't flow. It SUCKS. TBH, I don't know for certain if I'm going to be able to catch up to my previous writing abilities or pace anytime soon but I'm certainly going to try. Also, quick note if you're reading this on Tumblr – they recently enacted a WORDBLOCK LIMIT on text posts of 100 blocks. Yeah. We're now limited to 100 paragraphs including the title. If the chapter's low dialogue and has no notes, that's fine, but if not? Well, we're just screwed because THIS ONE ran 86 ¶s WITHOUT the notes, glossary, and pre-story stuffs. I'm not sure yet how I'll be handling that limit for good, whether that means posting links to sites without the bullshit limits, posting long chapters in pieces, or linking to the separate posts with the notes and glossary, but I'll figure it out in time. For now, I’ll be including the NOTES at the end and you can find the GLOSSARY at FFnet or AO3. Check out Spotify for a playlist centered on this arc - features suggested listening for this chapter and the next few, and much, much more. Lastly, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone for their patience and understanding, and give a shout-out to some wonderful people who've made this new chapter possible. This chapter is dedicated to Wolf, Newt, and Ihlni for their invaluable support and kind words – to my hubby Cold for letting me ugly-cry on him without complaint and never failing to remind me that life has to go on – to my ma-in-law for teasing me about earning a nasty hangover instead of acknowledging that I looked like death-on-the-rocks and was obviously crying before I answered the door – to my mother for being a bloody SAINT and to my father for intentionally being an asshole when someone to fight with was just what I needed – to Wanda Farmer on AO3 and vbt22220 on FFnet for their encouragement in reviews, the folks on Tumblr who offered kind words when I needed them most, and to all you wonderful people who've stuck by me, read my stories, and are still reading after all this time. Above all, though, this chapter is dedicated to the memory of Granny Chance and Uncle Bob – may they ever rest in peace.

Suggested Listening: Fuel "Hemorrhage [In My Hands]," Paramore "The Only Exception," Prince "Purple Rain," Survivor "I Never Stopped Loving You"

59: A Matter of Honor

The Lair, November 19th - around noon

Donatello wasn't known for being a fool; regardless, he felt rather foolish anytime the obvious failed to register until it was staring him in the face. This was just such a time. He didn't recall sequestering himself in the lab much less falling asleep at his workbench, but the proof was self-evident: a crick in his neck, a strand of insulated wire still stuck to his drool-sticky cheek, and sweat-smeared glasses half off his face. It took a moment of tired lip-smacking and searching to comprehend the facts—ah, right, he pulled an all-nighter to complete the vital signs monitor for Kimber's visit. From what he could see, the device was, indeed, completed. Too tired to consider the absurd picture he must make, he peeled the wire trimming off his cheek and set it aside.

What woke him? He searched his memory, found nothing, then turned to more closely examine his surroundings. A plate of now-cold PopTarts and a cup of coffee (helpfully covered with a cracked saucer) waited a safe distance from his elbow. Right - it was Saturday. This time last year he easily lost track of the days between all-nighters and the sleeping-binges that always followed them. Now he had a weekly reminder in the form of too-sweet coffee and half-burned pastries, courtesy of the confusing woman whose scent still clung to his skin. How blessed he felt in this moment…

The moment ended with a familiar sound—a sleep-slurred phrase he could recognize anywhere but never quite understood. Ya been away too long he got, and he recognized the terms sook, e'en, and nip though he wasn't fully certain of their context.* Beyond that the half-Celt tucked into the cot may as well have been speaking Greek for all he knew. The oft-repeated tease fell short in a particularly nasal snore. Donnie hoisted himself out of his chair with a chorus of protesting joints and slowly rounded the workbench. Silently, he regarded his sleeping woman, soaking in all the silly little details that caught his eyes—the freckles spattered across her skin, the flash of faded ink peeking up over her drooping neckline, the stubborn silver cowlicks sticking up at odd angles from her loosely bound hair—anything to remind himself she was still alive.

He shook his head in weary defeat. A full week after their desperate flight from Willsdale and every time he woke he still half-expected to find Amber cold to the touch, lifeless and painted in blood. Perhaps, he considered as he gathered her in his arms and made his way to their bedroom, this was one scar which would only be healed with time. Perhaps, he considered as he lay her across the neatly tucked quilt and curled up behind her, he could only conquer his fear of Amber's death by focusing on her life. Even as he tugged her flush against his plastron and groin and nuzzled into her neck, he couldn't erase the memory of her: bruised, bloody, and broken, and rapidly fading in his arms. He shuddered and sucked in a steadying breath of her scent.

She wasn't dead, she was alive now…it was enough…right?

Red Fern Florist, Noon

Normally, Red Fern Florist was a calm place – a quiet and classy establishment that just so happened to be run by people who didn't care about being quiet or classy. This, alas, was not a normal day, not even in the slightest.

Abilene Whitaker manned the register, eyes focused somewhere beyond the neon-streaked pages of her textbook and not registering a word. The backroom echoed with near-constant racket—crashes, curses, objects falling or being thrown… Abby sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and dragged herself off of the barstool to investigate. Sure enough, Mercy was stocking the shelves a tad too roughly…if by roughly one meant throwing the bags of supplies around like a spandex-clad steroid junkie at a WWE grudge-match smackdown.

"Alright, that's enough," Abby snapped at her blonde subordinate; Mercy froze, embarrassed grey-blue eyes meeting Abby's over a lean, hunched shoulder. "You've been stomping around and slamming things all afternoon. What on earth could be so horrible you've gotta torture the mulch?" Mercy cringed, fixing guilty eyes on the bag of mulch in her grip. Caught. "Well?" The blonde uttered a sound halfway between a groan and a growl, snorted, then slid the bag onto its shelf with more care than necessary.

"My man's ex is comin' by tonight," she admitted under her breath. "She's stayin' a few days."~

"WHAT?!" Abby squawked in protest. "He's bringing his ex over?! Aw, Hell naw! Girl, you drop that boy before I find him and punch him in the man-fritters!" Man-fritters?** Mercy couldn't help it – she sniggered at the visual – but her laughter faded into regret when she registered the rest of Abby's threat.

"No can do," she sighed, "it's kinda unavoidable." Abby crossed her arms, scrunched her lips into an almost exact replica of Leo's 'pissy leader pout,' and waited for an explanation. Mercy rolled her eyes, spearing her fingers into her hair and yanking. "Kimber…well, she's like me an' Amber," she explained under her breath. "Remember I told ya Amber…uh…went home for a few days? Well, she almost…um…didn't come back. Bitch-nipple's comin' over to see how long any of us can stay home without that happening. She invited herself, we voted, Raph lost, she won." Abby took a moment to let that sink in.

"Your guy tried to vote her off the island?" A grim nod from Mercy. "They broke up before she left, right?"

"…and she left before he an' I met," Mercy added even as she rolled her eyes.~ All the code-talk really got on her nerves but they had to be mindful of the security cameras. Abby leaned against the doorframe, lean shoulders at a sharp slant, and hazel eyes puzzled behind her fuchsia-streaked hair.

"You think she wants him back?" she asked quietly. "He won't…" She sucked in a nervous breath. "What if she tries to win him back?"

"You're kiddin', right?" Mercy scoffed. "He dumped her! He's been angsty as fuck over breakin' her heart, yeah, but I know'im—she could make all the moves she wants, he ain't gonna budge."~ Not to mention Kimber's still dead she added in her own head then shook it. After all, she was dead, too. The whole situation stank like a crappy soap opera. "I trust'im, Abbs," she added under her breath. "Raph chose me, not the Jersey-Devil-wannabe…jealousy's pointless when I already know the end result, an' that end result is he's with me."

Abby watched her a moment, scrutinizing and studying; just as suddenly as she issued the threat against Raph's genitals, she smiled. "You're a strong woman," the neon-haired clerk remarked lightly. "I ever heard one of Cherie's exes asking to stay, I'd bash the twat's teeth in. You need anything, you give me a call, alright?" Mercy nodded, halfway between a cringe and a grateful smile, and went back to the stocking. "So how are things going between you two, anyway?" Abby added taking up her share of the lifting. "You never bring him by, you never tell me much about him…how's he treating you?"

Mercy paused, brow furrowed, and scrambled for an answer that didn't make her sound like an absolute sap. She couldn't find one. "He makes me wanna listen to Faith Hill, watch him sleep, an' punch his ex in the teeth," she grumbled. The heat in her cheeks went nuclear at Abby's excited squeal.

"Oh-em-GEE!" the younger practically shrieked. "You love him!" Mercy shot her a sour glare.

"Woman," she groused, "shut yer ass – the bullshit's leakin' out."

The Lair, shortly after dusk - 00:00:00

Two weeks ago, Kimber Bryant faced down Leonardo and demanded the opportunity to make right the trouble she caused his family. Now she stood in the hallway, practically quaking in her mud-stained canvas sneakers, unsure how to proceed. It didn't exactly help that Leo was still glaring at her from behind and her other escort, Donatello, kept fiddling with the tablet strapped to his left forearm.

"Now remember, you've gotta keep the leads from getting tangled," the genius rambled without ever once looking at her. "A little perspiration shouldn't cause any unwanted interference—I insulated the outer casing well to deter any outside condensation or humidity finding its way into the monitor's internal components but there are limits." Kimber rolled her bottle green eyes over at Leo in hope of rescue from Donnie's babbling but received only a glare. "It's not fully water-tight," the genius continued with a shrug and 'meh' expression, still without even glancing her way, "so we'll need to cover it with a water-resistant dressing when it comes to bathing but other than that it—"

"Today, Donnie," Leo grumbled. The younger startled out of his thoughts, fingertips still poised on the holographic chart projected over his tech-tab. He blinked a few times in rapid succession as though refreshing his memory then turned to Kimber in question. From the looks of it, she seemed ready to chew her ankle off to escape the lecture. She really was so very different from Amber…how could they possibly be the same person underneath it all? Could a person's history and past choices really have that big an impact on their personality and attitude?

"Uh…right," he uttered with a wince. "Anyway, it's natural for your core temperature to fluctuate a certain amount over the day but if it drops too low, I'll get an alert. We may not have much time to get you back…so…" he trailed off in hopes she'd pick up the slack.

"Don't get comfy," she finished sourly. "Yeah, I got it. Git lawst."~ He crinkled his nose at her demand but said nothing; instead, he rolled his eyes in defeat and took off toward the lab.

"Remember our agreement," the eldest warned under his breath as he shouldered past her. "You have one chance, and you're to stay—"

"I got it, I got it," Kimber snapped in response. "Go dig t'at stick out'a ya ass before it gets stuck up t'ere."~ Other than a deep-chested growl of warning, Leonardo said nothing—he just stormed past her to some destination she didn't care to know. Rolling her eyes at his attitude, she made her way toward the light at the end of the hallway. The closer she came the more clearly she heard a familiar voice—a voice that still haunted her fondest dreams and worst nightmares.

Familiar laughter led her into the living area where two people were cuddled up on a lumpy sofa. The larger wore a familiar boyish grin that stole the breath right from her lungs. In her grip, the duffle-bag strap slid loose—sweaty palms, she realized. A fluttering, weightless sensation filled her veins—oh, no… 'Gawd dammit…why've I gotta still love'im?'~ She choked around the damned butterflies doing barrel-rolls in her gullet. Steeling her nerves, she shook off her mushy thoughts and turned the corner. 'It don't change nothin'—dead's dead, an' he never chose me anyway. It's better t'is way.'

Raphael…he looked so much the same and yet so different. His eyes shone with laughter where they once burned with distrust; his posture was relaxed where he always kept up a front before. Tucked into his side and 'narrating' the boxing match with absurd faked voice-overs was a tall, lean woman with short messy blonde hair. Kimber's lip ached to curl in a sneer as the blonde loosed a raucous laugh but she fought it back—Raph wasn't hers. If this…this woman in his arms was enough for him…well, she'd respect that. She only ever wanted to see him happy and by God, she'd do so, no matter how much it hurt.

One moment, everything in Mercy's world was perfect. There was a decent match on TV, Raph had 'bullied her' into not-cuddling with him, and for the moment they had no other obligations. As it always seemed to, though, everything fell apart in a single breath…a breath that carried a perfume of vanilla, sugar, and musk. The smell wasn't entirely unpleasant but it was strong enough to make her sinuses burn and her head hurt. Why must so many people marinate themselves in perfume and cologne?

As Mercy and Raphael turned to greet the newcomer in unison the arm around her waist slackened—bright golden hazel eyes widened—full, scarred lips fell slack in dismay. Those lips formed a single word—a name Mercy spent hours cursing that afternoon—but no sound came forth. Torn, she held her silence, eyes darting from Raphael to the stranger and back again almost desperately. She knew this moment would come, she just didn't realize how much she'd want to scream obscenities when it did.

The stranger broke the stare first, bottle-green eyes flustered behind their impeccable smoky eyeliner. She reached up to her modest neckline, grabbed at the pair of worn metal dog-tags at her chest, took a deep breath, then looked up again with a weak smile. "'ey, Raphie," she murmured in a voice still thick with smog. "Long time no see, huh?" The hulking mutant couldn't even get out a single word; he just nodded, his chin and lips unnaturally stiff. Even as he stared down Kimber Bryant he clenched his fingers even tighter to Mercy's waistband. Mercy glanced down at the sight of his three-fingered hand anchoring her in place by a belt-loop. Just that morning, she woke up with that hand tangled in the hem of her nightgown anchoring it at mid-thigh. She had nothing to fear.

She pried Raph's fingers loose, stretched an imaginary crick from her neck, and rolled off the sofa to her feet. "I'll catch up later," Mercy remarked with an entirely faked smile and made her way to the side door. "Compost prob'ly needs a turnin' 'bout now."~ On the way past, she silently took in what details she could, mentally comparing them. The other woman was her height but beyond thin and into skinny. Her hair was coarse—naturally red from the looks of it but with a texture similar to unraveled jute twine. A sharp glance told Mercy the other had practically no ass; no competition there. She rolled her eyes, punched in the security code to pass through, then let the door drift shut behind her.

Before she could get anywhere a pair of large, powerful hands snatched her by the shoulders, spun her about, and pinned her to the tunnel wall. "Why you leavin'?" Raph demanded sharply. His voice was barely below a shout but as so often before, Mercy saw underneath that posturing—she saw the suspicious shimmering in his eyes, the nervous tic in his jaw, the vulnerable hunching of his shoulders, and the lurching of his throat and plastron from frantic heaving breaths. Fear was the one thing he really had no reason to feel in this case but it was written all over him. She cupped his squared jaw, thumb tracing the scar splitting his lip.

"I ain't leavin', ya meathead," she corrected as he covered her hand with his in a frantic grip. "You were friends, right? Ya never got to say goodbye. I've seen how this's been tearin' you apart an' I'm sick of watchin' it."~ Her lips curled in a tease but it was entirely true—she was beyond sick of having another woman in their relationship, even a dead one. "Ya need closure, I get that—I'm backin' off so you can get it. Got it?" Raphael said nothing—he just stared back, visibly searching her words for subtext. When he finally spoke, what he asked made no sense.

"Why?" he demanded in a near-deadpan. Mercy wrinkled her nose but before she could speak, he continued. "Why're ya testin' me like dis? What've I done ta deserve dat?"~

"Testin' you?" Mercy shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not testin' ya, Red," she promised. "I know you and I trust you—you're not about to cheat on me with anyone, much less a dead chick, right?" He shook his head in agreement and his eyes softened; he belatedly released her hand, choosing instead to cup her cheek.

"I wouldn't do dat to ya," he confirmed gruffly. "I'd never…I promised not ta hurt ya an' I meant it…but…" He faltered, flustered and struggling to find the right words. "Dis ain't right…ya ought'a be pissed at me fer even lettin' 'er come here…heck, if dis happened to any other guy, he'd get slapped fer lettin' it happen!"

"You're not any other guy," Mercy reminded shortly, "an' I'm not any other gal. Jealousy won't help anything, it ain't healthy, and you weren't too keen on her comin' over, to begin with. I've got no reason to be mad at'cha, an' especially no reason to hit ya."~ Her eyes drifted back toward the side door, now closed, and she sighed. "I don't like it," she admitted as her hand drifted down to his thick neck, "but I know you need closure an' I trust you enough to not interfere."

Raphael said nothing—what could he possibly say?—instead, he took a step back, eyes wide. This wasn't the first time she professed her trust in him, nor would it be the last, but this utterance seemed the most improbable of all. Wait…no, there was one other moment even more unexpected—a recent moment, the moment he first witnessed Mercy Ross fall apart at the seams, right there in his arms.#

Tousled blonde hair spilled across his pillow like scattered straw. Unpainted lips, swollen from friction, panted around gasping breaths. Work-roughened fingertips clawed at the equally tough skin of his bare scalp and shoulders as he unleashed all his pent-up frustration on her finally bared skin.

"I trust you," she'd promised only moments before. "When are ya gonna start trustin' yourself?"

"Ya shouldn't trust me," he'd blustered, but despite his denials, he caved to her temptation. He knew from the first breath it would take weeks to clear her pheromones from his lungs; he'd never forget the taste of her or her keening cries of completion. When the madness left her eyes and the fire dulled in his blood, Raphael knew he'd never be able to see his Mercy the same, nor would he ever cease to be humbled by her seemingly unshakable faith in him—trust he couldn't recall doing a damn thing to earn.

That July, Raphael took a chance on happiness in the middle of an open rooftop—a single kiss followed by countless more, all sound-tracked with heavy metal. Ever since then, anytime he fell to the temptation of Mercy's lips, he lost himself completely. He wanted her—he needed her—he craved her—she was the air he breathed, vital to his very survival and responsible for every beat of his heart. Far below the filthy streets, in a dark passage forgotten by the world in general, he stole her lips and breathed her in reverence.

He loved her—loved her beyond the limits of his fears and follies—and that was why she knew he wouldn't let her down.

"So you two, huh?" Raphael ducked his head to avoid Kimber's eyes, hoping she couldn't see the traces of stickiness at his lips or the tenting of his patched trousers. She said nothing, choosing instead to examine the worn red tweed of the sofa arm she perched on.

"What of it?" he retorted slumping onto the seat at the opposite end of the couch.

"Looks like ya found a good one, 'at's all," she shrugged. He studied her silently a moment, searching for signs of deceit. In his heart, he knew this stranger was Kimber—his Kimber, the friend he threw away over his insecurities and fears—but her appearance was largely unfamiliar. Kimber was always on the chunky side of curvaceous but with an undeniable sex appeal. This new body was built like a scarecrow - all long limbs and frizzy hair - but underneath he could see the same sensual confidence Kimber had before she died. That sensuality was all Kimber - Amber lacked it completely, always coming across somewhere between odd and awkward. This woman, though visually unfamiliar, was definitely Kimber. Something in her eyes spoke of mischief…and regret. "Fer Gawd's sake," she swore under her breath and turned an acidic glare on him. He refused to meet it, locking his eyes on one padded and splayed knee. "I know t'a drill—I'm dead, not stoopid."

"Ya were never stupid, Kim, jus' stubborn an' naive," he protested but she waved him off.

"T'en quit lookin' at me like t'at." After a moment of resistance, he finally bit the bullet—he met her eyes. "Yeah, like t'at," the redhead grumbled, "like I'm gonna jump ya if ya take yer eyes off'a me or somethin'. I may be livin' in a homewrecker but t'at don't make me a homewrecker." This time, she was the one to hide her eyes.

A long, tense silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional sound from the Lab or utility room. In this unexpected but overdue moment, despite the drastically different appearance, Raphael saw Kimber as she was when they first met—not the over-confident temptress with the venomous smile and devil-may-care attitude but the lost, lonely, frightened runaway searching for her place in the world. Her new body was thirty-five if it was a year old, but she'd never looked more like a child to him than she did now. The night she turned Lefty and Northpaw over to the police and fell apart, Raph let the wrong head do the thinking and her heart suffered for it. So much heartache came from that one bad call—Kimber's death, too, was a result—how could he ever make it right?

"Rah-fay-el." The quiet – almost reverent – utterance of his name startled him from his brooding. Kimber faced the far wall but her eyes were locked on his askance. "Tell me t'a truth…did ya ever love me?" He blanched; she scoffed and picked at the faded red tweed covering the sofa. "I know we was close," she clarified in a soft tone void of accusation, "friends to be sure, but did ya ever love me like I loved you?"

He didn't answer—he couldn't answer, not around the painful lump in his throat. For so long, he wondered the very same. Loving Kimber, after all, would have made his betrayal a crime of passion rather than a bad move made in paranoid self-defense. Despite all his brooding introspection, though, he always came up with the same answer: he could have loved her, but he didn't…if he'd kept his head, maybe, someday, he could have loved her, but he didn't. "Exactly." Kimber's near-whisper broke his train of thought. "I knew ya didn't love me," she admitted even as her shoulders drew tight and her painted lips stretched in a sort of sneer. "I always knew it, I just t'ought…eh, no matter. I'm not gonna fuck up yer life again."

"I think ya got dat backwards," Raph pointed out dryly. "I fucked up yer life—I'm why yer…" He faltered, his throat clenching around the word as though to prevent him from voicing it. "Ya know," he settled for with a weak half-shrug, "like dis." Kimber watched him silently, eyes sharp enough to cut away his protective façade.

"Say it," she challenged. He flinched; she slid off the armrest and stalked over to face him, arms crossed in defiance. "Say it, Raph," she ordered, "ya know what I am—ya know t'a word, so use it. I'm…" She trailed off, one eyebrow cocked in expectance.

Raphael cringed. Of all the times he wished it was possible to completely withdraw into his shell, this was one of the worst so far. Weary hazel eyes drifted from Kimber's dirty canvas sneakers up her faded jeans and cotton blouse, up to her unimpressed eyes. "Yer…dead," he whispered as if confessing some great sin.

"Exactly," Kimber harrumphed and jabbed him between the eyes with one clear-lacquered fingernail. "Dead folks an' live folks jus' don't mix, ya muck-brained mawron.~ It wouldn't work an' I ain't about to waste my time tryin' ta make it work. Capiche?" He nodded, glaring up at her retreating back.

"Den why'd ya come back?" he asked, letting his hand fall back to his knee. "Dere had to be anutha way to test Don's theory, so why'd ya volunteer?"~ Kimber stilled in her pacing, carefully arranging her words before they could all spill out without concern for her feelings.

"I never got ta say goodbye," she admitted in a near-whisper, "not ta you, not ta Daron or Lefty, not ta anyone who mattered…but I've neva been t'at big on goodbyes anyhow, ya know?" Her voice cracked on the last words and she took a moment to compose herself. When she spoke again, she turned to the side as though watching him over her shoulder but her eyes remained hidden. "I made a lotta mistakes, Red—a lotta stoopid decisions t'at hurt a lotta people—an' much as I wanted to just stay dead, I lived ta regret every one'a t'ose decisions. T'at's why I came back…t'a fix t'a shit I broke an' atone for my sins. If t'at means stayin' here fer t'ree days while you an' Blondie play suck-face, so be it."

"Ya know you're puttin' yer life at risk, right?" Raph reminded, ignoring the suck-face comment. "Donnie ain't sure about da timing on dis thing, ya know. He an' the braided nutcase passed five days in her world but they weren't gone a whole three days, here. Who's to say ya'll have a full three days here? Who's ta say ya won't drop dead in an hour, or three hours, or even a minute from now?" He shuddered at the thought, his mind helpfully supplying several months' worth of nightmares to choose from, most of which ended with Kimber dying in his arms. "Ya froze, Kim, an' dat ain't an easy way to go; are ya really willing to risk goin' through it all over again?"

"It's my choice," she reminded with a stern expression reminiscent of an unimpressed schoolmarm. "No one asked me ta make t'at choice. Besides, see t'is?" She tugged her neckline aside to show him the small plastic device hung from her neck and the line of wire trailing down to her armpit. "T'is lil' t'ing's monitoring my core temp—we've got t'is covered. Trust me?"

Raph considered the plea a moment—for it was, indeed, a plea in every sense of the word—then gave a slow, reluctant nod. "I don't like it," he admitted in a throaty rumble, "but it ain't my job ta like it." There was much more to say, but for the moment, he hadn't words.

"Nope," Kimber agreed with a sly grin. "It's yer job ta help me give Daron a heart attack. What say we give'im a visit from t'a Livin' Dead Girl?" It was just a tease—just another excuse to ignore the elephant in the room—but for the moment, Kimber didn't care. She had more important tasks to focus on—messes to clean up, mistakes to correct, sins to atone for, and honor to regain. For now, the rest could wait.

�� The Lair - 00:35:00 and counting

Time stops for no man, people often said, and the same could be said for women. Never mind that Amber's cantankerous counterpart was staying in the Lair for the weekend…lurking around every corner…stinking up the place with her perfume…just waiting for a chance to bitch-slap Amber back into her place at the bottom of the food chain…

Amber shuddered at the thought and firmly shoved it into the back of her mind. Kimber Bryant made Amber all kinds of nervous but her presence didn't excuse Amber from her chores. There was too much to do—laundry to put away, studying to do, dinner to prepare— Something soft and furry brushed against her calf, startling her from her thoughts. "Right," she muttered as Kirk bypassed the laundry basket at her feet and hopped up onto Donnie's bed. "Gotta clean the litterboxes an' feed Kirkland too." After a mrrruhl of warning and a superfluous butt-wiggle said feline launched himself right into a pile of folded undergarments and began viciously mauling a sock big enough to double as an oven mitt. As he lay on his side, wrapped around the sock and kicking like a homicidal kangaroo, Amber sighed and shook her head in whimsical defeat. After how much she'd missed him she couldn't really be upset with the little murder-machine; cats, after all, would be cats, and socks could be darned.

"It's inevitable, Kirk," she teased as she hung a pair of patched canvas trousers in the frame-and-fabric 'closet.' "You're just gonna have to get used to sharing me with Donnie. I know I'm Mom but he's mine - you can't resent him forever." With an adorable cotton-muffled urrrr, Kirk glared at her over a mouthful of beige knit as if to say watch me. Ah, the jealousy of spoiled cats.

"Honestly, I'm lucky to have Donnie," she added to herself, doubts and worries filling her thoughts between wire hangers. Back before the dream connection was confirmed—before Donatello confronted her with his old Tonfa and confessed the name of her dead classmate—Amber could fool herself he wasn't the same Donnie she grew up with. She could tell herself that he didn't know all her dirty little secrets. He didn't watch her fall apart over the last few years of her life, partly from illness and her and partly from depression and apathy. He never heard how her poor choices in college may have led to the death of a classmate. He never knew she routinely slaked her carnal needs in impersonal encounters so her time with him in dreams could be focused on more important things than her hormones. If this Donnie wasn't her Donnie, then the mistakes of her past were only a secret to keep.

The problem was…now she knew this was her Donnie…and by the sounds of it, he remembered everything. Amber paused, fondling a strip of worn purple fabric. Even after countless washings, every one of those masks smelled strongly of his oddly comforting blend of coffee, machinery, musky exertion, and spice. "How can he even look at me, Kirk?" Amber murmured into the sweet-smelling fabric. "I screwed up with him so many times…I gave up on him, I – I gave myself up to other guys…how doesn't he hate me by now?"

This last question seemed the most perplexing. Sure, the purpose of those impersonal booty-calls was to shut up her hormones so her scant time with Donnie could be put to better use, but she always regretted them afterward. Regret, though, didn't count if a person intentionally committed the same crime over and over again, and she was guilty—guilty of closing her eyes, mentally replacing the other men with Donnie, and crying herself to sleep after they left. Regret was a weak word, really; what she felt wasn't weak. After all the time she spent hating herself for the infidelity, the idea that Donnie didn't hate her for it made no sense.

The dead silence tore her from her ruminations; odd, considering Kirk had a habit of 'answering' her every time she spoke.## After a quick glance at the bed, it was all she could do to keep from laughing. The little furball was out cold, wrapped around her favorite bra and snoring into one generous cup. The battered sock sprawled on the floor half under the bed—the enemy was vanquished. Chuckling at the absurdity, Amber crouched to retrieve the sock but paused when she noticed something wedged between the mattress and box spring. A warped silver wire binding, traces of green beyond the rings…surely she was mistaken, but it wouldn't hurt to check…right?

Amber tugged the notebook loose and promptly cringed in recognition. It was her journal, the one she hadn't written in for months then misplaced. Why was it jammed under the mattress like a nudie magazine? Curiosity drove her to investigate and she quickly discovered the litany of notes scribbled upside-down in the back. She quickly lost herself in the writing—questions and memories, hopes and fears Donatello couldn't bring himself to share with her, all centered around their years apart. Though she didn't dig too deeply, there wasn't a single word of blame or judgment anywhere—nothing that indicated resentment or disgust. Amber almost missed the sheet of loose-leaf that slipped out and fluttered to the floor—almost. The pencil-scribbled contents might have made her stumble if she hadn't already seated herself before. "I met my lover in a dream," she whispered in recognition.^ "That poem…I thought I lost it...I guess Donnie found it?" Soon enough, she hit the final lines:

Mibbe someday he will see – Someday the truth I'll tell. For now, I've only memories, And dreams I shot tae Hell.

Or, rather, those should have been the final lines—they were the last she wrote. Someone, however, clearly thought the poem wasn't finished and added their own verse…in pen…neatly printed by a familiar hand straddling the border between calculating and persnickety. "No way," Amber muttered thickly as she scanned the added verse, wide-eyed and breathless. "Naw fookin' way!"~ No matter how she protested, the words remained clear, impossible yet obvious. Still marveling at their presence—and at the subtext—she never heard the soft ticking of a distant clock, or the even softer inhale accompanying.

Dreams can sometimes fall apart, And memories can fade. The truth you shared can't change my heart… Your lover-friend I've stayed…

I'll see you in our dreams.

There was no stopping it, no holding back: Amber crushed the paper to her pounding heart in elation. He remembered. He understood. He loved. Perhaps, even…he forgave?

Sometimes emotions are too powerful for words; fortunately for Amber, squealing unintelligibly required none.

UP NEXT: (Currently in-progress)

Chapter List

- The vital signs monitor – At first I wasn't quite sure if such a device was on the public market, at least aside from 'smart' devices like FitBit and such, so I did what I do best: I researched the fuck out of it for funzies. Turns out there are more varieties out there than I expected, each monitoring different signs in different fashions and to different accuracy levels. Since Donnie's never been the sort to simply COPY others' ideas, we can safely assume he's combined the best of several devices. The result is a small electronic monitor [about the size of a 9-volt battery] hung from the neck by a lanyard, which measures core body temp by way of leads attached to an adhesive-backed electrode stuck in the armpit. We can also assume fitting the device on Kimber was incredibly awkward because she intentionally MADE IT awkward.

* Full statement including what Amber's snoring cut off: "Ya be'n 'way too long 'gain, ya sook—nae be'n by fer a nip'er a bosie. Wha's a lass ta think?" – This little bit of Scotchness is a routine in-dream tease from Amber. You've been gone [from our dreams] too long again, you old softy—you haven't even come by for a kiss or cuddle. What's a woman to think?

** Man-Fritters – Alas, I cannot claim authorship of this little snigger-inducing euphemism. That honor belongs to author Mimi Jean Pampfiloff in her Accidentally Yours series. While the first two books were pretty recipe [if you know what I mean] they were HILARIOUS recipes. I'm not ashamed to admit that the scene in the first one where the heroine belts out 80's pop hits to keep sane made me laugh so hard I spewed my tea, CHOKED ON IT, then spent the rest of the day CROAKING. It was WORTH IT. (That said, the author also used a lovely little nonsense-word coined by my IRL friend Autumn back when we were in high school but didn't notate it. I'd encourage Autumn to stop starting word trends without first seeking a copyright but that'd mean I'd have to pay her every time I stole her stuff, heh.)

Also: Abby has no accent. She's intentionally warping the Oh, Hell no! in hopes of showing Mercy just how upset the news makes her.

# Implied smut – The encounter referenced here didn't make it to in-story occurrence BUT it took place during the Absolutes arc, which took up too much time-and-space for the intended back-and-forth between worlds. It's written up and included in the "Gallery of Memories" as The Blonde and the Beefcake and it can be found HERE.) It's almost entirely lemon, BTW. ;P

## Kirk tends to 'answer' Amber every time she talks to him – I am SO not basing this on our cat Heiferlump. Nope, not at all! …fine. Yes. Heifer responds to EVERYTHING she hears, no matter who says it, and it's rare to find someone she can't bait into answering back. She's particularly adept at getting my father to argue with her and routinely tries to argue with the microwave beeper. O_o It's awesome.

^ The Poem, "Dream Lovers" – I've not posted the entirety of the poem in any chapters or even the GoM installment of the same name. NOW, however, you can find the entire poem in comic format HERE, on this story's Here on Tumblr, OR on DeviantArt. The comic includes Donnie's additions and a small blurb of backstory leading to this scene, and the Tumblr/AO3 posts include a glossary for the many odd words used in the poem. For convenience's sake, I've included the translation of the included verse below.

Again, since Tumblr’s decided to be an ass about wordblock limits, see FFnet or AO3 for the glossary if anything throws you off.

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viktuurificwriters · 7 years

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Getting to Know Reiya

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If you’ve been in the Yuri on Ice fandom for a long time now, then I bet you’ve already heard of Reiya. She is the author of the highly acclaimed Rivals series on AO3. The series’ first fic, entitled Until my Feet Bleed and my Heart Aches, is the YOI fic with the most number of kudos and hits.

Reiya ( @kazliin ) even has her own group of dedicated readers, who form a sub-fandom within the YOI fandom. Her blog is proof of that–being comprised of replies to the variety of asks she receives daily, different posts about the Top Ten’s of Yuuri and of Viktor in the Rivals world, reblogs of different fanarts and fanvids about her stories, and a whole lot more.

Any fan of Reiya would take pleasure in scrolling down her blog. From it, they can know some exclusive facts about her writings, like where she gets ideas, which of the two fics in the series was harder for her to write, and others. But with the plenty of asks Reiya answers each week, such facts get buried away in her blog and could never be seen again (unless you’ve decided to devote yourself in searching through each of the pages, which would probably take hours.)

Therefore, this post has been made to compile some of the basic stuff that everyone needs to know about their favorite writer. Learn more about Reiya and her works right under the cut.

Even though Reiya writes fanfics about YOI, she admits that she doesn’t really watch anime. She became interested in Yuri on Ice when she kept seeing it on her dashboard around episode two or three. She was also curious about it being a figure skating anime because, as a child, she used to dream of becoming a figure skater herself.

Before YOI, Reiya used to write for the Marvel fandom. She didn’t write a fic for seven months after her last Marvel fic due to writer’s block, but then she found Yuri on Ice and it gave her the inspiration she needed to write again.

“The source material is wonderful and there's so much potential in it for both canon verse fics and AUs,” says Reiya. “And as a member of the LGBT community, it was so wonderful to finally see a canon, healthy, happy queer couple, so it gave me a lot of inspiration to write.”

As soon as Reiya started watching YOI, she kept imagining different scenarios to put the characters in, which she thinks is a good precursor to starting a fic. Yuri on Ice was also a new fandom, with new material coming out each week–getting reader response and feedback was very high.

“Inspiration to write is so heavily based on getting response for what you do,” Reiya adds. “Being in a big fandom like YOI and having so many people being enthusiastic over my fic really pushed me to keep writing.”

And so, Reiya started writing what turned out to be the most popular YOI fic ever.

In coming up for the idea of UMFB&MHA, Reiya was really interested in the challenge of turning a fluffy and loving couple into rivals and in an enemies-to-lovers situation.

“The middle came first, then the beginning with how the whole rivalry started and then the doping scandal and then end,” she says. “I think I dreamed up the whole thing over the course of about a week and then finally sat down to plot it all out properly.”

Her biggest challenge in planning out the fic was figuring what Viktor could do to make Yuuri hate him. She knew that it should never be malicious on Viktor’s part. Viktor can be insensitive at times and speaks before he thinks in canon, but at heart, he’s never intentionally cruel. Eventually, Reiya settled on making Viktor say something tactless that he thought was helping, but actually cut Yuuri really deeply.

“We know from the other characters saying it that Yuuri really hates losing and he's a very determined character who rises well when he's challenged, like with Yurio during the Onsen on Ice,” answers Reiya when asked if she can see Canon Yuuri as the kind of person who’d resent someone for so long even though he had just been a kid when he felt insulted. “So I think the seed is there if something happened to him in his formative years to send him sown a different path.”

In the fic, Yuuri was insulted by Viktor when he was an insecure twelve-year old. According to Reiya, he took the insult far worse than an adult Yuuri would and it really shaped him. “The insult also grows with him over the fic,” she explains. “When he thinks back on what Viktor said, it becomes worse and more hurtful because his mind is distorting the memory as he grows older.”

When Reiya writes, she has to do it in big chunks. She doesn’t like writing only a little for an hour and a half and then stop. She needs to sit down on a weekend and write for ten hours straight. She prefers getting into the zone when she writes, so she needs to be in a peaceful place with a single song looped playing for hours in the background in order to help her focus.

Ten hours is the maximum time she allots on a weekend, but often, if the deadline for the next chapter was approaching, she’d come back home from university on a day she had reserved for writing at five and then writes until midnight, with only a break for a dinner.

“Since I take two weeks to write a chapter and maybe 30-50 hours, it means I can do it all in big chunks with free days to live my life rather than writing non-stop all the time,” says Reiya.

Once Reiya is in the writing zone, everything else is easy. But getting in that zone is what’s difficult. Sometimes she can spend hours writing and not be able to focus at all that she can’t make the words flow.

“Before chapter 14, my exams were approaching and I was studying all the time and not writing, so the day before I said I'd post the chapter, I still had a huge chunk to write,” she shares. “I pulled an all-nighter to finish because people were so excited for the next chapter and I didn't want to let them down!”

The pressure of her fans has been hard on Reiya, but she finds that she usually works well under it. The expectations terrify but also motivate her at the same time.

Reiya loves writing, but sometimes it can be very exhausting. She finds it very difficult to write the sex scenes in her fics. Before the Rivals series, she had never written a sex scene so it was great exercise in learning how to write them. Even then, she still struggles, especially now with the second fic in her series, entitled Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts, where she has to rewrite all the sex scenes from UMFB&MHA in Viktor’s POV.

In terms of emotional writing, the hardest scene for her to write was first part of the third chapter of OBS&BH. Viktor is a very optimistic character and it was very hard for Reiya to put him in a position where that optimism gets crushed.

The responses of people who read Reiya’s fic is what keeps her writing. She is incredibly grateful and lucky to have so many people enjoying her fic. The pressure and the expectations may be terrifying, but she thinks it's worth it.

Reiya’s advice for aspiring writers:

(The italicized text are Reiya’s exact words, but with minor errors corrected.)

Don’t compare yourselves to the big fics and don't write what you're not comfortable with. Almost all the big fics in any fandom were written right at the beginning when popularity is highest and when people read the fics with the most kudos first. Once a fic is on the first page it's very difficult to knock it down or get another fic up there instead. It happens in every fandom. If you come into a fandom later and write, don't feel down by comparing yourself to fics like that. Popularity doesn't necessarily mean it's the best fic out there, and just because your fic isn't the most popular, it doesn't mean it isn't good. I know it seems patronizing of me to say that, all things considered, but YOI isn't my first fandom and I know how hard it can be when you feel like people care so much more about other fics than yours. I've deleted or stopped fics before because I felt like no one cared. But you know what? People do and you should always write what you want to write regardless of what anyone else is doing. You never know, to someone out there, your fic might make their day.

As for not writing what you’re not comfortable with, don’t be pressured into writing something just because all the other fics are like that or people want it. If you’re not comfortable with writing sex scenes, then don’t write them. If someone wants your fic to go in a certain direction and you’re not sure about it, don’t do it just to please someone else. Write for yourself first and everyone else second.

I think a lot of writers (and I include myself in this) can get caught up comparing themselves to other people and trying to please everyone which is never a good way to go.

[Bonus] Random Facts about Reiya:

(The italicized text are Reiya’s exact words, but with minor errors corrected.)

1. Favorite Viktuuri Headcanons

I love the idea that Yuuri can hold his alcohol really well and Viktor can't! I also love the hc that they both learn each other's languages and end up speaking a weird mash of Japanese and Russian all the time. I also love most sappy romantic hc about them once they're living together in St Petersburg because I'm a sappy romantic at heart.

I also love headcanons about them being the worst rivals ever now that they're both competing. Like, they're supposed to be serious competition but they can't stop making eyes at each other and teasing each other all the time during competitions

2. Favorite YOI song

Yuri on Ice

3. Favorite YOI scene

The proposal scene because it's so atmospheric or the kiss scene because that was the moment when I could finally scream “I fucking said it was going to become canon! I CALLED IT PEOPLE.”

4. Favorite color

Blue

5. Waffles or pancakes?

Pancakes

6. Ice cream – Chocolate or vanilla?

Chocolate

7. Viktor or Yuuri?

How dare you try and make me choose?

8. Pineapples on pizza or not?

I'm a normal human being, so no.

9. Coffee or tea?

Coffee. There's no blood in my veins; there is only caffeine.

10. Scrambled eggs or sunny side up?

Sunny side up

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purplesurveys · 7 years

Text

170

Does your best friend bother you more than anyone else? I don’t know why I would pick them to be my best friend if all they ever do is bother me. Who is your best friend? Gabie, Angela. Do you like someone right now? Yeah I’ve liked them for four years, been in a relationship for one. Do you even think you stand a chance with this person? I’m with her already. Do you consider yourself truly happy? I don’t even consider myself remotely happy.

How often do you cry? It used to be every day but I’ve since cut it down to a few times a week. Are you emotional? Not over everything, but yes I am. What is the worst thing you would do for 10 million dollars? There’s a lot of things I would do for that money HAHAHAHAHA just maybe not eating like food someone else spit out or any kind of waste. I’m sure I have other limitations too, but the first thing that came to mind was anything having to do with ingestion. Have you ever had/do you have an eating disorder? No, never have. Have you ever cut/burned yourself intentionally? Sure. What do you think of people that do? I think they are probably going through a rough patch and I hope it ends soon for them. I still cut to this day and it’s never been a nice place to be stuck in, so I empathize with them. What's your opinion on drugs? Have you ever done any? Well I grew up admiring CM Punk and listening to punk rock bands who are strictly straight-edge, so because of that I can be very iffy about drugs–but never about the user. You do you. I’ve never done any. Have you ever noticed the hidden adult jokes inside of kid shows/movies? Yep, they become more and more obvious as I get older. Do you want to be famous? Why? No. Sounds like a lot of work. Do you sin often? I’m not religious, but generally I avoid doing shitty things because why? What are your views on God? I’m not a believer. What do you think happens after you die? Just permanent sleep from then on. Thank goodness for me. Are you afraid to die? Nope. I wish the universe would hurry it up for me though. If you had the chance, would you want to know the date of your death? Yessssss. Have you ever felt that you weren't good enough? It’s a lifestyle. Do you have any siblings? If so, are you jealous of them? I do, but I’m not jealous of them. Sometimes I wish I was as creative and artistically inclined as my sister, but it never blows up to envy. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Why or why not? No. I keep it civil at best with them. Our relationship turned sour for good a decade ago and I’d rather keep it that way. Are you always wanting more? Nope. I never had much growing up so I was conditioned to be satisfied when I get what I need, no more follow-ups. Do you make good first impressions? I wouldn’t know, ask all the people I’ve ever met... Do you feel bad for obese people, or do you just laugh? Yikes, this is a really bad question. Like it’s just bad, very poorly thought of. What would you do if you were obese? Are you ashamed of your past? There is a very small part of me that is. But I try not to be, because those were struggles I went through and passed, and to be ashamed of them is to invalidate every fight I’ve fought. Do you miss your past? Yuck. Do you have a song lyric that describes where you are in life right now? “I’ve been all alone, I’ve been taking my time [...] It feel like my life ain’t mine.” Who are you closest to in your family? My dog. I stopped building relationships with my biological family. Do you ever open up to people? Sure. I’ve never had a problem opening up to people I’m not very close with. Do you consider yourself guarded? Why or why not? No. Just find it easy to trust others; always depended on the kindness of strangers. Are you an honest person? Like, blunt? Sure.

Do you like animals? Yes. What do you think of people who abuse animals? They are very disgusting. Are you a control freak? Not at all. Do you enjoy getting drunk, or do you feel like you're losing all control? It’s alright. I become super sweet with my girlfriend hahaha. What do you think happens when you go into a coma? They all say you are aware of everything but just can’t move or open your eyes, so that’s exactly how I’m imagining it to be. Do you think the internet is dangerous? Duh. Name all the social networking sites you use: Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr. I quit Snapchat months ago. Do you think anyone truly knows who you really are? I guess Gab and Angela are closest, but I do have a layer that I will allow no one to penetrate ever. Have you ever given anyone the chance to really get to know you? Yeah. I’m an open book, and I always answer when someone asks me something about my life. Do you block people out of your life when they start to get too close? Not really but I just get a little anxious. I always just stick with my best friends. Do you care what impression you make on people? To an extent, but it’s very minimal. Do you think you're a good person? Why or why not? Yes. I love looking out for the people I care about. Do you think TV is too much of an influence on today’s youth? I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been in front of a TV in ages. What do you think people would do if all the computers crashed? I’m more concerned about businesses and the global economy if that ever happened, not people... Honestly, do you say racist things? When I do, it’s always about how I really really dislike white supremacists :/ Do your parents put way too much pressure on you? Only when I was applying for college. They only had one path expected of me so it was lots of pressure. Has anyone you loved ever died? Yes, my grandfather. Do you think people overreact when their pets die? No they don’t? Do you know who you are, or what you want to become? Hahahahahaha. Do you have your future mapped out? Or are you just taking it day by day? Day by day. There’s no rush. What do you think of vegetarians? I want to be like them, but just dunno how and where to start. What are you going to do now? Maybe make myself some food.

#survey #surveys

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jarienn972 · 7 years

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Only a Little Superstitious - Chapter Three

Had some quiet time tonight to get this latest chapter posted. This entire chapter is a flashback which reveals how Emma and Killian ended up dumped into the wilderness, but only a few hints are given as to who they’re up against. It starts out with a little bit of fluff, but yes, @killian-whump, there’s definitely plenty of whump in this installment too.

Read from the beginning on AO3, FF.net or Tumblr: Chap One Chap Two

Earlier that morning

Not surprisingly, Killian was up before her. He was always up with the sun – sometimes before – even on days when she'd much rather he slept in but she wasn't even certain if he was capable of it. Stretching as she finally forced herself to sit up, she raked her fingers through her mop of unruly blonde locks and tugged at the hem of her pajama top that had gotten twisted during the night. She could hear her husband in the bathroom connected to their master bedroom humming some little ditty that wasn't familiar to her ears. She tried not to look at the numbers on her alarm clock until her feet hit the floor, but once she did, her brain was instantly questioning the time displayed because it didn't seem like it could be correct.

"Killian?" she called to him. "What time is it?" She hoped he'd know the correct time so she didn't have to get up and go look at her phone right away.

"Not sure, Love," he replied back. Big help he was…

"Crap…," she muttered as she practically dragged herself from the bed to her dresser across the room where she'd left her phone plugged in to the wall charger. "8:15?!" she exclaimed, suddenly fully awake. "Damnit Killian! Why didn't you wake me sooner?" Barreling her way into the bathroom, she practically shoved him out of the way as she headed straight for the shower that he'd apparently just vacated since his exposed skin was still covered in shiny droplets and his damp hair was still partially matted to his scalp.

"Sorry. I must have lost track of time myself," he apologized, although the grin on his face wasn't entirely convincing. He stood at the sink with his straight razor in his hand and a royal blue towel wrapped loosely about his waist – a towel she would have been tempted to yank off of him if they weren't already running late. "Do you have an important meeting or something this morning?" He caught himself casting a glance over at her as she shed her pajamas and stepped under the spray of steaming hot water thankful that he hadn't yet begun trimming the ragged scruff along his jawline just yet.

"We're supposed to be meeting my parents for breakfast in fifteen minutes!" she responded in a huff. Obviously, he'd forgotten…

"Apologies, my love. I thought that was tomorrow." He was sincere this time as he returned to the task of trimming his whiskers while his wife hurriedly showered, bitter with himself that he'd forgotten which day they'd planned this meeting with her parents. His memory was normally far better than this. Perhaps he'd taken one too many patrol shifts this week?

"Forget about it. We can still make it. We'll just have to get dressed quickly," she replied as though she'd read his thoughts. She turned off the water and reached for her matching towel, drying herself off briefly before wrapping it around her torso - before she drew back the curtain to minimize her husband's temptation. Ducking past him yet again, she pulled the first things she could grab from her dresser drawers – jeans, a hip length pale peach blouse, white tank top and bright red socks – not that anyone was going to see those tucked inside her boots. Moments later, she returned to the bathroom fully clothed and found herself reaching around her husband's body to get her toothbrush out of their medicine cabinet. As much as she loved their master bath's vintage white porcelain pedestal sink, at times like this, she really wished they had a larger vanity – maybe with his and hers sinks? "You know, this would be a lot easier if my husband would move his ass out of the way…"

"Am I to infer from that statement that there is something wrong with my arse here?" he taunted, intentionally bumping into her hip as he returned his straight razor to the cabinet. "I seem to recall that last night you…"

"Go get dressed!" she blurted out, immediately cutting off his statement, her cheeks reddening at the memory of their antics from the previous night. "I swear I married a walking distraction…," she laughed as he pressed a kiss into her flushed cheek, responding only with a devilish grin. She shook her head in frustration, turning on the cold water to dampen her toothbrush as she let her gaze drift back to the bed to catch the full view of her husband's afore mentioned backside as he dropped his towel while opening his dresser drawer. "Yep – walking distraction…," she sighed in defeat, trying to think of anything possible that wouldn't make them very, very late for breakfast.

Thankfully, they'd made it to Granny's only a couple of minutes tardy so they were able to avoid any potentially awkward questions – not that any of them would have truly embarrassed Killian. He would have been all too happy to drop innuendo after innuendo just for the pleasure of watching the varying expressions on David's face. This morning though, their conversation had remained decidedly tame even with Henry at school and Neal spending the morning with Ashley and it was nice to just have a pleasant, uninterrupted visit.

Which of course meant that things were going a little too perfectly…

It started with Emma's phone ringing then Killian's seconds later, but neither had a chance to answer before Granny's front door flew open and Leroy suddenly stood before them shouting:

"There's some crazy purple haired lady out here trying to open a portal in the middle of Main Street!"

"What?" Emma asked, ignoring her phone with the assumption that it was likely someone else calling to deliver the same message. "What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know, Sister, but you're the Sheriff. I'll let you find that out," the dwarf spat out, not really giving her any more information to go on. Killian in the meantime had answered the call he'd received, clearly getting a similar message.

"Emma – that was Regina. She just said the same thing – a woman is heading this way, assaulting anyone and anything that's in her way. I told her we were here at Granny's so we'd try to intercept this woman."

"Purple haired woman?" Emma questioned as she clambered out of their booth and pushed her way past Leroy to the courtyard, not yet seeing the woman spoken of, but seeing flashes of bright light – probably magic. "Who is she? Anyone you know?"

"Never saw her before," Leroy replied, stepping away from the doorway before the crazy lady came into view.

"I've never seen her either," Emma heard Regina say as a cloud of crimson smoke cleared and the Queen came into view. "But she's throwing around magic fireballs like a pro."

"Why does this small town always seem to have so many people we don't know?" Emma muttered under her breath as Killian joined her in the courtyard. "Well, let's go see what she's up to…"

Emma strode confidently into the street with her family right at her heels as they caught the first glimpse of this unknown sorceress or witch - whoever or whatever she was. She didn't really look all that intimidating – small, painfully gaunt with skin that was almost corpse-like – its coloring more grey than Emma had ever seen on a living being. Her hair was an unusual shade of purple – somewhere between lavender and periwinkle perhaps – and it was pulled into a severe bun atop her head. Her black dress and dark violet cape hung shapelessly from her thin frame, but despite her frail appearance, she exuded a disturbing level of smugness and determination. Who the hell was this?

The woman barely slowed her pace even after spotting Emma and her family blocking her path.

"You want to tell me who you are and why you're tearing up our town?" Emma shouted to their unwelcome visitor.

"Out of my way, Sheriff," the woman hissed back, clearly aware of Emma's identity even if they didn't know who she was. "I've waited years to be able to open this portal and you're not going to stop me!"

"No one is opening any portals in the middle of my town without clearing it with me first," Regina spoke up.

"I don't need your permission either, Mayor Mills," the woman replied with a fair amount of disdain, clearly not intimidated by either of Storybrooke's leaders as she conjured a fireball that missed Regina's designer stilettos by inches.

"Okay, this means war…" Regina glared, conjuring up a fireball of her own, ready to launch it from her palm but the visitor was unfazed, continuing toward the center of town clutching what the queen now recognized as a golden scepter in her left hand. She couldn't make out the detail but it appeared to be about eighteen inches long with an round, unfaceted garnet or ruby crowning it. "Well, well… What do you have there?"

Regina flung her fireball toward the woman, only to see it deflected by the sword brandished by a burly man who suddenly stepped between them and the sorceress. Now, who was this? The woman showed no reaction to the man's precipitous appearance almost as if she'd just summoned him same as she'd conjured the fireball. He was a complete contrast to her – tall, stocky and muscular – his moves coordinated and precise unlike her reckless abandon.

"Emma – we'll keep him busy," David offered as his daughter waved her hand and instantly, her father's sword materialized in his hands. Snow's bow and arrow quiver and then Killian's cutlass appeared out of thin air as well. "You and Regina can tackle the one with the fireballs." The prince and the pirate each took a flank – David to the right and Killian to the left to draw the sorceress' apparent henchman away from her while Snow positioned an arrow on her bow to provide cover fire for her husband and son in law. Emma and Regina took similar positions on either side of the witch, blocking her from venturing any further down the street. Even Granny herself had prepared for battle – standing in the diner's doorway with crossbow at the ready if anyone crossed into her sights.

"Okay, buddy," the Prince growled at their strapping opponent. "This is as far as you're getting." The stranger only grinned in response as David aimed the point of his sword at him, raising his own blade in preparation for battle.

The henchman then swung his blade wildly, cutting a wide swath through the air before it collided with the forged steel of David's weapon. This wasn't going to be an easy fight, David thought as the force of the impact caused him to lose his footing, tumbling to the street. His opponent may lack finesse, but he was incredibly strong. Killian immediately thrust his cutlass into the fray before their mystery sparring partner was able to bring his sword down into the prince's back. The pirate managed to hold his ground despite the stranger's physical strength, deflecting the enemy sword long enough for his father in law to roll out of harm's way and regain his battle posture. Spinning around, Killian launched his own offensive attack, cutlass meeting sword once again as he felt and heard the whoosh of an arrow passing his ear.

Snow's first shot unfortunately missed its target as the stranger quickly overpowered Killian, shoving the pirate to the side with his own forward advance. Her second arrow struck its mark though as it grazed the unknown man's hand, inflicting enough damage that he lost his grip on his sword. David scrambled to retrieve it as the weapon flattered to the asphalt, their opponent now howling in pain and frustration. The loss of his sword only seemed to further enrage the brawny man and he surprised the prince by charging unarmed toward him until Killian lunged into his path, halting the stranger mid-stride as the curved, razor sharp edge of the pirate's cutlass was pressed into the flesh of an exposed neck.

"I suggest you stop right there, mate," Killian hissed, eyes locked onto his opponent until a deadly reminder that there was another battle waging across the street had him hopping out of the path of an errant fireball as it left behind a huge crack in the pavement inches from where he'd been standing. Nearly being scorched forced him to divert his focus away from the stranger for a fraction of a second - but it was in that brief moment that his seemingly unarmed opponent found a window of opportunity.

David watched the man reach around his back in that split second that the pirate's eyes were averted but everything happened so fast that he barely had time to shout a warning to his son in law that something shiny and likely dangerous was glistening in the stranger's hand.

"Hook! Look out!" David cried out at the top of his lungs but it was already too late. As the prince looked on in dismay, their unwelcome visitor drew a dagger from his belt and drove it to the hilt into the soft flesh beneath Killian's rib cage. Instinctively, the pirate's hand came up to cover the wound, cutlass dropping from his grip. He stumbled backward a step when the narrow blade was yanked from his body, already feeling the sticky blood flowing over his fingers, but the pain hadn't yet registered – his mind stuck in shock, still processing his momentary loss of concentration.

Her father's exclamation had also drawn Emma's attention as she dodged a fireball, diving out of the way as she caught sight of her husband staggering backward clutching his midsection.

"Killian!" she shouted, no longer caring what the lilac headed woman might be doing. Regina could deal with the sorceress as Emma now had more important concerns – and to her horror, things were about to get far worse…

Because only a few feet behind her injured husband, an approximately eight to ten foot wide swirling portal to god knows where suddenly appeared, covering a broad section of Main Street and portions of the sidewalk where Killian stood teetering dangerously close to its edge.

"Killian! Don't move!" she shouted, springing to her feet and sprinting across the street as fast as her legs would allow. David's first instinct was to drag his wounded son in law away from that portal but instead found himself tasked with keeping the henchman at bay, sword at the ready once again as he heard the ear-piercing screech of the purple haired witch.

"It worked!" the sorceress exclaimed gleefully. "My portal worked!"

"Yeah, well you're not going anywhere, sister," Regina spat, hurling a final fireball that knocked the distracted witch off her feet. Regina then quickly immobilized her adversary with a wave of her hand – long enough for her to conjure the anti-magic cuff and slap it onto the woman's bony wrist. "There – that should hold you while I try to clean up the mess you and your friend have made…" She yanked the golden scepter from the witch's hand before the freezing spell wore off and extended it out in front of her, hoping she could somehow close the growing enchanted gateway, but she'd no idea how to make it work.

Disoriented by his injury, Killian had no awareness that he was standing at the precipice of an expanding portal, struggling simply to maintain his balance. He'd heard his wife's voice shouting his name, but everything was garbled by the time it reached his ears. She was running toward him, presumably to render aid for his wound so he made a weak effort to extend his hooked arm toward her, but as her fingertips brushed the steel, the vortex reached the heel of his boot. With nothing solid beneath his feet, he fell backward and vanished into the abyss. Emma didn't even hesitate as she jumped into the portal after her husband. She might not have any idea where this thing was intended to take them, but she wasn't about to allow Killian to face that unknown alone and wounded.

"Emma!" Snow shrieked, her voice cracking as both her son in law and daughter disappeared through the portal.

"No! No! No!" the sorceress screamed angrily as she watched the sheriff and pirate disappear through the supernatural gateway she'd opened. "That's mine!" Still partially frozen by Regina's spell, she glared at her henchman. "Go after them, you idiot!" she ordered. The stranger gave a glance toward David who stood sword in hand before him, then down at the dagger clutched in his hand. He gave a long, curious look at the blood-stained dagger before tossing it away, muscling his way past the prince to dive head first into the vortex as it began to close.

And then with a clap of thunder, it was gone.

Everyone stood in disbelief for a short time as Main Street was returned to its prior state, save for a few scorch marks and the newly formed crack next to Killian's fallen cutlass. David lingered in silence, admonishing himself for not doing more to prevent this. His daughter, whom he'd fought so long and hard to reunite with and her husband, who he'd come to respect as a friend and even as a son had vanished – lost instantaneously to some far-off realm. He dropped to a knee to retrieve the pirate's sword, but instead picked up the blood-smeared dagger, surprised by its weight and appearance. It didn't seem to be a modern weapon, its handle covered in intricate carvings worn over time and its blade nicked and even rusted in a few spots. It was capped with a jewel that seemed to match the one embedded in the sorceress' scepter but the detail that caught the prince's eye most was the broken point of the blade. At least half an inch was missing from the tip, likely severed when thrown to the street, but David didn't have the patience to look for a severed piece of steel right now.

"Where the hell did you send them?" he demanded, storming across the street to confront the now magicless woman who'd created this fiasco. "Where did that portal take them?"

"To my gold," the witch spat back in disgust. "It should have been mine – all mine!" she rambled.

"What gold? Hell, I don't even give a damn about your gold. Where did my daughter and son in law go?" David wasn't in the mood for anything but a straight answer so when the violet coiffed woman simply cackled in his face, he turned away, fearing he might do something he'd later regret.

"I'll get her to talk," Regina spoke up with a borderline evil grin spreading across her face. "Give me a while with her and I'll have her singing like a canary…" Normally, David might have said no, but this time, he gave Regina his blessing as he stared blankly at his distraught wife.

What the hell had just happened and where the hell did his family disappear to?

#cs ff #cs fan fiction #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #only a little superstitious

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askjennie · 7 years

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How can I cope with loneliness?

I’d prefer this stay anonymous.

So, I’m an almost seventeen year old guy. I’ve got good parents, good grades, a good brain, and a bright future. I’ve got the grades, the test scores, etc to get into virtually whatever school I want, and I’m extremely passionate about what I want to study (physics and computer science).

However, this most recent life “chapter” has been very far from ideal. First, I came out to my parents before being completely sure about my questioned sexuality, because of pressure from my friends to be “open” or whatever. I don’t even remember what tumblr-synthesized concoction of labels I came up with. Then, because of the emptiness I felt from completely locking my parents out after “not accepting me” (quotes because I completely detest these ideas in hindsight), I went off and got into a bad relationship with someone who used to be my best friend. We had sex multiple times, and now I hate his guts, and I really hate that we came out of it the way we did.

After I went and made myself a wreck through that, I got super lonely. I only had one close friend left, and when she told me that she liked the guy I had been with and that they had held hands, my entire life fell apart. If only to make things more complicated, I gained feelings for her. When I told her this, after giving her a hard time about liking this guy (because I thought that somehow she didn’t have her own problems to deal with) she cut me off and stopped talking to me, for a week. This was over summer vacation, and so I didn’t have any excuses to make for myself that I had friends, because I really didn’t. I got depressed, I drank a bit, I cut myself, thought about suicide sometimes. My female friend (I will refer to her as L for the rest of this query) stopped shunning me but we had a few bumps in the road as the fall and winter progressed. My parents, seeing the scars on my arm, took me in to see professional help. I rejected it as much as possible because it made me feel like I was insane or something, which I didn’t like. Now I look back and wish I didn’t do this because then my psychiatrist would be the one I would be asking for advice from now.

Anyways, L eventually began to like me back, but there are more than a few hurdles to jump if me and her are ever to date, one of those being her parents thinking I’m not Christian enough (even though I would dispute this, I’m pretty involved in my church), which is a tough one.

Details aside, now things are going to be awkward between me and her, and other than her I have zero close friends. Everyone else is just an acquaintance, and I’m (regrettably) better acquainted with khan academy and my calculus textbook than I am with most sentient acquaintances.

Tl;dr it will be a long time, perhaps after we graduate before L and I could date and be happy together, and if we both stay invested in that it’s going to be awkward in the mean time. And, aside from her, I have no real friends, so I feel lonely. How do I get rid of this dreadful loneliness? Please help me.

~ m.c.

Hey, it’s me again. You haven’t gotten to my question quite yet so I figured I’d give you a quick update from the last part, since stuff has changed.

The person, L, who i described in the last question, has told me that she is blocking her feelings for me out of her brain as a defense mechanism, semi-intentionally. She’s said that doing so is a challenge because she really likes me, and god I love her. I’ve told her to give it time, for things to change and maybe for a better window of opportunity to come up, and she hasn’t responded. I’ve liked her for so damn long too, so I doubt it’ll end here.

What can I do to cope with my feelings for her in the mean time, which I estimate to be about six months before I decide to revisit *us*? And the loneliness?

Please keep me anonymous, still

Jennie: I think the most important part of this question we need to focus on is your mental health. If you regret rejecting the possibility of professional help, tell your parents that, and ask if they can help you see a therapist now. It doesn’t mean you’re ‘insane’ - mental illness is just another illness, it just specifically affects your brain. It wouldn’t be insane to seek professional help if you thought you had cancer, or swine flu, and it’s no different if you think you have depression.

If you’re feeling lonely, then maybe now is the time to try and branch out and make some new friends. It might not be easy, but in the long run it’ll be healthier than relying on this one person who isn’t really even in your life right now. You could try spending more time with your acquaintances, maybe asking if they want to hang out outside of school or wherever you know them from, or you could try and meet entirely new people. You could join a new club or class based on your interests, or find a part time job, or do some volunteer work. Find an opportunity to get out of the house and do something with other people.

As for L. If there are so many hurdles between you that she’s trying to block her feelings for you from her brain, then I don’t think you should keep hanging on to the possibility of you being together. You don’t know if it’s ever going to happen, and if you keep it at the forefront of your mind, you’re preventing yourself from getting on with your life and spending time with new people. Don’t act as though you’re going to get together in 6 months time. Act as though you’re moving on. You don’t need to keep your life on hold until you revisit this.

Get some space from her, avoid contacting her, take care of your health, and try to keep yourself busy. Give it time, and things will feel better.

#advice #ask me anything #suicide #lonely #mental health #relationships #friendship #advice blog #advice column #askjennie

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loulougoingsolo · 7 years

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Thoughts

So, today was supposed to be my art day, and my plan was to spend the afternoon painting. Instead I ended up writing over 2000 words on the subject that I would rather not even think about.

At first I thougth I wouldn’t even share my thoughts with anyone, because I didn’t want to stir this pot any further, but then I remembered my own firm belief that things can only be solved through unheated, civil discussion.

So, below the break is my very personal, overly long and most likely unnecessary contribution to the discussion involving what should and what should not be written in fiction. I just really wish I didn’t feel the need to post this. And now, I’m going to tune out for the rest of the evening, because I feel a bit like crying and that was not something I sought after today.

Also, since this topic was brought to my attention by @randldiscussions , I’m tagging them here...

I grew up watching horror movies and reading horror books. I remember watching all possible Dracula films on tv as a kid, the ones with Christopher Lee. I loved them. I was scared by them, but I loved them enough to keep watching. I also remember watching Birds by Alfred Hitchcock before turning 10. We had a vcr and we were told not to watch that particular video, so of course we did, as soon as the parents were gone.

My favourite books growing up were ones like Emily of the New Moon or Little Princess. But also books by Dean Koontz, not the sci-fi ones, but the ones that made you look over your shoulder after dark. Like the horror films, many books scared me, but I loved that feeling, knowing the scary things happened in the book and not in real life.

In my early teens a man I barely knew started calling me over the phone, asking questions I didn’t want to answer, making me feel uncomfortable and anxious. He called me almost every day after school, when my parents weren’t at home. Despite having seen all these gross movies, despite technically knowing a lot about sex and grown-up things, I was still very much a child at that time. At first, when he called (making an excuse of asking my father on the phone, knowing he wasn’t at home), I didn’t understand his motives. I had been taught by my parents to be polite to people over the phone and to always answer when the phone was ringing. I was a good kid, and I wanted to follow my parent’s instructions, so I answered the phone, day after day, and tried my best to be polite.

It didn’t take long before I started to be afraid of coming home from school. I became afraid of answering the phone, but felt I had no choice. I felt stupid for feeling anxious and afraid, and blamed myself for feeling that way. This was in early 90s and no-one talked about stuff like paedophilia or stalking, or sexual harassment, these things didn’t exist in my community. It took me far too long to understand what was going on, and to be honest, to this day, I don’t completely understand. All I know that I still get chills thinking about his voice, about how he said my name when I answered, and just how filthy and horrible he made me feel. I’ve pretty successfully blocked him out of my mind for the most part, and I can’t even remember exactly how long this went on. It’s this massive dark ghost in my past that I avoid thinking about, and every single time something brings him to my mind, I feel nauseous and start to panic.

I finally managed to ask my parents for help by the time I could barely stay at home alone. At this point he had already implied that he used to walk pass my school and my home sometimes, and kept asking me about the colour of my hair and stuff like that, “in case he saw me in the school yard”. What that basically meant was I was horrified of going to recess because of this constant feeling of being watched, and every day after school I feared that the phone would ring or someone would come to our door. I was in a constant state of fear, but I still didn’t understand that it was a normal reaction to what was going on. I blamed myself, even when I knew there was something off with this man. I was never able to fully tell my parents how horrible this experience was to me, but somehow I managed to convince my father to confront him and the calls finally stopped. This topic was never discussed in my family after that, so I don’t really know how my parents felt about it. I was never able to bring it up again, at that time I was just relieved that it was over.

It’s really funny how a human mind works, I feel the anxiety approaching as I write this and the dark ghost getting closer, but I’m determined to do this now. It took me years to believe the calls had stopped. Even when I was told the man had moved to another town, I was afraid of him finding me (he knew where I lived all along). The anxiety he made me feel over 20 years ago is still so fresh in my mind that I’m having trouble seeing these words on my screen. I only recently was able to bring this subject up at a therapy session, but when my therapist asked me about it, I was unable to continue, so we moved into other topics. If I close my eyes right now, I’m instantly thrown back to that situation where I’m standing in our office room as a 13-year-old girl, holding the phone, hoping for a way to end the call, and fearing that he is coming to our door. And the fact that he still has this control over my mind makes my physically sick.

So what does this have to do with now, with me telling about how I like horror genre in movies and literature? To be honest, I’m not sure if it has anything to do with these things. I still like horror, but sometimes I’m unable to watch a film I’d really like to watch because watching it alone is too much. It’s a different kind of fear altogether, but some films do bring that man to my mind.

As an adult, going through my childhood in therapy and elsewhere, I’ve often thought about how lucky I was, that things didn’t go any further. Sure I was traumatized, sure I’m still getting all the panic attacks and anxiety, having trouble answering the phone (using the phone altogether actually), but things could have been a lot worse. There are days when I think about that man, and if he ever did something worse than what he did to me. Did he end up going further than harassing girls over phone? And I blame myself for these possible assaults that might have followed, because I never reported him anywhere, and I highly doubt neither did my parents. I don’t know his name, but there are days I wonder where he is, or if he is even alive anymore.

The reason I’m writing about this right now, is the heated discussion in the R&L community that has been going on in the past days. Because of my own experiences I can to a degree relate with those who find the violent fanfiction problematic. One of the first fics I stumbled on in this community was one that was (hopefully) one of the worst things to exist, and definitely one of the worst things I’ve ever read, and I couldn’t finish it. I found it very unnerving to know someone was able to write that thing. Luckily, I have no idea who wrote it, and I have no intention to ever find it again. It most certainly was not my kind of a thing. Reading it didn’t make me anxious, though, it did made me slightly uncomfortable. I can understand if someone is triggered by reading things like that, but at the same time I can’t help thinking, that it still is fiction. I don’t know the motives behind writing it, and as a newbie in the community, I didn’t know how to even read the tags well enough to recognize that it was something that I shouldn’t read. But I haven’t made that mistake again, and even if I do, I know where the Back button on my browser is and I will use it if necessary.

This is the internet. You can basically find anything online these days, and most of the stuff found is probably porn or something that will trigger someone in one way or another. I get porn blogs as followers on Tumblr almost every day, and to me there are only few things that I find more disgusting and unnerving than seeing unknown naked people having sex on my screen. I systematically block every single one of them. To me, they are triggering, but the only way to deal with them is to block them and not intentionally seek them out.

A lot of comments have been made about how explicit fics are exposing young kids (gay or straight or something else) to things that make them perceive sexuality in a wrong way. I admit it probably is not a wise thing to allow kids to read some of the fics out there. Yes. There is an age limit of 13 both on Tumblr and on AO3. By that age I already had been stalked and harassed, there was no age limit there. Also, by that age I had already read numerous violent, explicit books, found my dad’s porn stash, been scared almost to death by my alcoholic grandad, and I had played a very explicit video game on Commodore 64. There was no internet to explore, but had there been, I would have been all over it. There are times when I wonder if I could have come of a better human-being with some more parental supervision, but I like to think that although I was a curious child with a vivid imagination, although I grew up to this neurotic anxious weirdo that I am today, my unorthodox upbringing did give me the keys to being an openminded, peace-loving and decent person. I live a nonviolent life, I believe in equality and I find abuse of any kind, sexual or otherwise, disgusting and 100 percent wrong.

I do however also still like exploring the human psyche, both the light and the dark sides of it, in my own writing. I enjoy reading books where some of the characters may be overly violent, and I don’t find the fact they exist and are readily available, wrong, in any way. As fic-writers, we have a responsibility to tag our texts in a way that allows the readers to choose whether they read these texts or not. As members of a fandom we have a responsibility to tag our posts in a way that those who do not want to see certain things, can avoid them as easily as possible. There are tags like #NSFW and #rhink. There is the “Read more” break on Tumblr. There are age ratings on AO3, and seriously, if it is clearly stated on the fic that it’s Explicit, for Mature audiences or it has any of the tags that you know will involve stuff that trigger you, then you have the choice to click away. These things are not being blasted on your screen by force. You have to seek them out, and when you do, you should be prepared to find them.

I find the way this fandom is dealing with these issues very unfortunate. I’m all for open discussion, but I’m also very much against accusing people in public. I’m very much against harassing others. This goes both ways, insulting others, making accusations and all this immature drama is only hurting everyone and solving nothing. Also, when you choose to bring your personal arguments to public the way it has been done recently, you are seriously hurting innocent bystanders, who want nothing to do with these things. People who may never have even read a single fic have been exposed to things they shouldn’t need to be exposed to. That’s just wrong.

Every young person these days can easily find mature content online, and sometimes they see things that are not necessarily good for them. I don’t know the ages of people in this fandom, but I know that I’m an adult, and as an adult all I can do is act civil, have respect for others, and use the tags on my texts. If you’re a parent, maybe you have the means to curate your own children’s online experience, but none of us have the means to make internet a safe trigger-free place for everyone. Sure, we can try, but we really can only control our own actions, and there will always be someone somewhere who upsets or triggers another person. As unfortunate as it is, it’s the way life is. If you think something is too much for you to bear, if you feel some things online or elsewhere, cause you so much anxiety that you can’t take it, then maybe the best thing is to walk or click away and find something healthier to do.

Now, this is pretty much all that I want to say about this matter, and to be honest, I didn’t really want to say even this, but I felt I needed to. This discussion has been mostly about how the explicit fics are causing people anxiety and making them uncomfortable, but for me, what has made the past few days feel very uncomfortable has been this discussion and the way people are being accused of things they have not done without even giving them a chance to defend themselves. For me, this fandom used to be a safe place, before this discussion started, but now I find myself thinking about that man who harassed me, experiencing all the anxiety all over again, because I was reminded about my childhood traumas by a group of people trying to make internet a safe place. There’s something about that that I just can’t comprehend. And that is why I chose to write this overly long text.

#not the happiest of days #i consider this part of #my personal healing process #so maybe it's worth something #...#tw: harassment #tw: stalking #fanfic #serious issues #i'll just leave this here #personal #just not feeling very safe right now

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serenavonromvesen · 6 years

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Did your caption get deleted from my blog?

When I have a computer I will give this post it's own section on my tumblr.

I haven't been on tumblr for a year or two and when I came back on I have joined a different community and lost my old blog. This new community seems to have this extremely weird fixation with having the caption underneath a photo to remain through all reblogs. This was not a thing the last I was on tumblr.

I would like to state first and foremost that only two people have contacted me being upset about this. EACH of those two people made NO effort to ask the caption be returned, made NO effort to ask why, and made NO allowance for me to respond back before blocking me. THIS IS NO WAY TO GET WHAT YOU WANT!?

Not only did I learn this action from tumblr, but in my opinion, I hold legitimate reason for doing so. That of which I may explain later, if I decide these psychos deserve an explanation.

Seriously, what the actual fuck? Why the actual fuck is this a fucking issue? Like what? People have blacklists for this shit are you SERIOUS lmfao? Whaaaaat!? I honestly think its kind of funny but I'm also really fucking annoyed lmfao.

I didn't even know this was apparently wrong lmfao? Everyone wants to attack you rather than ask or explain lmfao. Psychopaths!

*I also believe in anarchy, so any form of trying to penalize me for this rather than just ASKING me to do what you needed is going to make me intentionally not do it that much more, so please keep in mind that its your own rudeness preventing things like this from being resolved. Ask nicely and I just may*

Moving forward, though. So there is this LOVELY thing on tumblr called a "source." The source option on a photo allows you to link your tumblr blog to the photo in a way where your URL becomes a clickable link underneath the photo, as well as the photo itself also becomes a clickable link back to your own tumblr. This feature was designed so that in the event a caption is removed, your credit of the photo will always remain. There is also a second option, more reliable, as a source can be changed. That would be to watermark your photo. Watermarking your photo means editing it so that the URL of your profile is listed on the photo itself, in the event that the photo is reposted, source is changed, etc. These two options alone should be enough in most cases to have your photo credited. That being said, this is still the internet, you post your personal photos you will always risk them being stolen, unfortunately.

Contrary to that, I DO understand that in some cases a photo may need multiple forms of credit, or a caption necessary to further explain a photo, etc etc. There are times where a caption may feel kind of necessary.

That being said, I DONT feel it necessary to leave captions such as "i love this wig," "got weed?," "Come smoke with me," "this is cute," etc. etc. etc. At no point is any of that necessary to credit your photo, in which case it isnt necessary for me to reblog that with it.

Which brings me back to, why the actual fuck is that so damn important to some people? Like man, talk about letting little things bother you.... I am beside myself that people get that worked up about it. Sorrynotsorry I didn't care what you personally thought of the damn picture? I do leave credit for photos necessary as well as couldn't give a shit less if someone deleted one of my captions. Lol. I don't even watermark my photos. I honestly don't care. Someone deleting the caption on my photo would be the most meaningless thing that could ever happen to me.

Another thing I am confused about: I have only ever experienced this in the tumblr-stoner community? The one fucking group of people thats supposed to be chill as fuck? Like what? Y'all angry as hell lol take a fuckin dab or meditate or something cuz y'all need to chill the fuck out. I'll tell ya the real-life-stoner community is a wholllllle lot more laid back than the tumblr-stoner community. I really dont get it. Yall just chill. Its not that big of a deal I swear.

Mind you, I am a professional photographer with almost a decade of experience. I DO understand crediting photos. Truly, in so many ways, I do. However, I don't get why its so important that everyone knows you thought that tree looks cool. Especially with how many other reblogs have the caption. And one not bothers the hell out of y'all? I literally have 40 followers and I've used this account for like two months lmfao relax. You arent missing anything. I get stoked when someone reblogs a post from me. Like me deleting it has no affect aint nobody even finna see it lmao. Because my ONLY assumption is that you are super desperate for followers and likes [popularity] so that you must be super extra sure that everyone knows you posted that photo? Literally my only guess. Why else could it bother someone SO much?

Okay I GUESS. so why do I delete captions? Literally because I run a themed quality blog and it deminishes the quality of your overall blog to have text posts. I really dont wanna give away everything I do to make my blog look pretty but that and strictly high resolution photos. Its like my two biggest things in running my blog. I cant even begin to say how much sometimes I REALLY wanted to reblog a photo and didnt because it just wasn't sharp enough. It is what it is for me. Sometimes I cant even do what Id like just to uphold it. If you find that untrue look at my blog. To the very beginning. No text posts anywhere (well, rarely), but every source remains. I have EVEN gone out of my way to find original posters when I see someone has stolen their photo, so I can reblog from the original post. I cant tell y'all how many blogs I follow that repost y'alls photos. And yet I get attacked for deleting "look how pretty the shatter is" when theres a blog who didnt just delete your caption, but took away your source AND put their own caption. Lol. To be honest its such olllllllddd news to delete text posts and its sad I even have to explain this to the new generation of babyboomers on tumblr.

Stop ruining tumblr and being hateful.

This whole website is supposed to be a loving home for the land of misfit toys. Not have blacklists where you spam people with hate and blocks over the most petty bullshit? Especially when you never asked to resolve the issue in the first place and only attacked the person. That makes YOU the asshole, not me.

ANYWAY, so how can we resolve this? Well, if you, for some reason, need a caption returned that you feel had credit to it, message me without blocking me immediately after, so I can know which photo. It literally would take me a few seconds to remove the old photo and reblog it again. All you had to do was ask!

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leeahhtee · 7 years

Text

The Game Changer.

I never really got into explaining why I’ve created this Tumblr page. Never jumped into any specifics on who I am or what I’m even doing on this damn social media anyways. I’m pretty sure not everyone comes on here to speak personal details, but me? I’d like to call this a diary or even a “relations page.” Silly, I know, you’re probably wondering “What the heck is this bitch talking about?” But It’s a page where you can read and relate or even see the measures of my oh so exciting life. That was sarcasm guys.

Anyways, enough with the jibber-jabber, I’m going to hop right into how this sexy wonderful relationship came to happen with my amazing girlfriend Mulioaiga and I. Let’s just say it was a clash of mixed feelings, confusion and downright wrong situations. In other words a “series of uneventful events.”

Iga and I knew of each other around the year 2013 or maybe a little after, but never got to speak to one another or anything like that. She was friends with some of my friends and I was friends with some of hers. Time passes by and we finally decide to become friends on social media, with that being Facebook, Twitter, and Snapchat. We slowly start to hit one another up, not knowing that we’re intentionally flirting with one another, but never being straight forward about it. Now that we’re dating we always find ourselves asking one another why we never took that leap of faith. My excuse always being that I didn’t want to ruin a great friendship that was blossoming and that I always pushed aside the fact that I might actually really like a GIRL. Her excuse was that she didn’t know if I was just being friendly in a “friend” way.

Time still continues to pass and my niece’s 1st birthday party comes up. Long story short my aunt Egi used to date a guy named Fale who ends up becoming like my older brother, who is also considered an older brother to Iga coming to find out they knew each other longer, but I was closest to Fale’s sister Ruby. Anyways back to the story, Iga’s family all came through and at the time I wasn’t dating anyone but I yearned for love. I guess you can say I was a Romantic or what some would like to call a “Hopeless Romantic.” Always hated that title, made me feel as if I was weak.

The funny thing about that party was that the whole time Iga was trying to get at my youngest sister, I was being cheeky to her older brother that was always trying to game me up. After that night I find out Iga and my sister are talking. It was kinda weird for me because deep down I think I was kind of jealous, I don’t know why the heck I was feeling that way but I always pushed the feelings to the side. I let it be while on the other hand, I was messing around with her brother who I grew so much liking to at the moment just to get treated like nothing in the end, but that’s a whole different segment to talk about.

Things were falling apart for Iga and Rachael later on down the road, so what do I do? I step in and try to play mediator. Always siding with Iga and turning her against Rachaelynn, because Rachael was confused and kept breaking up with Iga just to call her again when she needs someone to fill that empty feeling she needed which was the attention all of us women crave for. One week Rachael left for a college visitation trip at all the big universities in Washington, that’s when I dove straight in and came up with a plan that would mess with Ruby. My dumb ass ended up telling Ruby the plan Iga and I had set up to mess with her head saying that this whole time we’ve been together. I told her because I thought Iga wasn’t going to pull through and show up, but I was so wrong. Iga didn’t know that Ruby knew the whole plan, but Ruby still went with it. We acted like a fresh new couple, but there came a point where Ruby and I couldn’t tell if Iga was taking the role to the extreme and actually acting as if we were together.

She had gotten upset that I mentioned I was going to Homecoming with Maiah as her plus one. She stayed upset from when Ruby went in to make the food and shower baby. I didn’t know she was serious either, then all of a sudden she blew up on me asking me why I was going and what not. I was shocked, so I went with and replied with “I mean I don’t have to if you don’t want me to?” I laugh about it because I was seriously taken back by it. That night went on, we started off on opposites sides of the car making our way closer and closer to one another. I was really waiting for Iga to kiss me, but sadly it never happened that night. We just hugged for a long amount of time, hoping and wishing that I could hold her forever. Well, at least that’s what I was thinking.

Days went by and we took matters into our own hands. I often thought to myself if what I was doing was wrong? Dating my sister’s ex-girlfriend. Hmm... I was so happy and starting to fall in love that nothing else mattered to me. My happiness was key to how we were to become. Rachael was still away at her College visitation thing, but while she was away Iga and I spent almost every night together. Not literally sleeping together, but every chance she would get before going to work she would stop by either at my house or at the Open Gym Night hosted by People's Community Center. Ig was still in the closet to almost all her family, but my thing was that it was so obvious to see that Iga was indeed a “tomboy.” But to be honest it’s hard to accept the fact that your own child might be leaning towards liking the same sex. I started spending less time with friend’s and family and spent more time with Iga. I enjoyed every minute with her.

I’ll never forget our first kiss, it was at the gym by the emergency exit doors. She came with her friends and had to drop them off at home real quick but before she left she wasn’t even trying to give me a kiss goodbye. I roll my eyes at the thought, but what did I do? I took that plunge of action and asked her. Her lips were actually very soft, I wanted more, but she had to go. But best believe I knew I was going to get more one way or another. There would be night’s before work where we would sit in the car, parked in front of our house and listen to music or even try to make out. I thought Iga didn’t know how to make out until one night where she surprised me.

Maiah knew about Iga and me, but I told her not to tell Rachael because I wanted to be the one to tell her. I’d rather it come from her sister than from anyone else. I gave Maiah my phone to take with her when she goes to pick Rachaelynn up, but this bitch told Rachaelynn herself. I should’ve known because Maiah is the type to create drama. She liked getting herself into the melodramatic bullshit, but I was so caught up in spending time with Iga that I didn’t think things through. I came to the car and Rachaelynn was crying. For some odd reason I didn’t feel bad, not one bit. I was happy as hell and wasn’t going to let anyone rob me from that.

Words were exchanged between the both of us, but long story short, she got over it. She knew they weren’t going to last, so she didn’t know why she was crying. Iga and I became official on October 10th, 2014. Everyone in my family calls that month the devil’s month and says that’s my month because I am evil as hell. I mean yeah I can be a bitch, but it’s never intentionally. Again, that’s sarcasm.

My family grew to love Iga so much, I loved that. My siblings grew to love her especially my brother, my mom is very open and out of the box, she cared about my happiness, my dad, on the other hand, was somewhat of a struggle to get through to, but at the end of the day, he cared about my happiness too. For Iga it was hard, she was the baby girl of the family, so for her to come out to her parents was big. They didn’t allow it. We cried so many nights when we weren’t able to see one another because her parents kept her from seeing me. It was hard because her family was very religious, but for her father to make a huge deal out of it was shocking because his very own sister is gay. We spent nights crying on her back up phone together, thinking we’d never get to see one another again.

It’s hard to be accepted in the Samoan community because you can have the parents who are very open and don’t live by the fa’a Samoa way, then you have the ones who do. Nothing wrong with that, but in America, your kids grow up seeing different things around them. Everyone expresses themselves differently. It’s the home of the brave and land of the free, yet you can be bound to expectations of how your family wants you to live. It sometimes blocks you from being who you truly are. There came a time where Iga and I took that leap of faith and decided to be one another officially.

She ran away from home, she came to be with me. That right there was the day I knew what it was like to have someone who would break all the boundaries for you. I saw love whenever I looked into Iga’s eyes. I felt comfort within her arms and knew what it meant to be loved for you, to be loved unconditionally and that Iga would never leave me. It was too quick of a judgment, but I trusted that judgment. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and no one else.

The running away process was simple, but we didn’t think about the outcome of what would happen if her family came searching. We had threats from her sister, but we still didn’t let anything phase us. Months passed us by and finally, her family came around. At first, it was an uncomfortable situation meeting the parents, but at the end of the day, I grew to love them. I will tell you now that yes they do accept of us, but I think only because they think this is just like very other Lesbian Samoan couple, but it’s not. I know it’ll be another trial trying to bring our families together to tell them we’re getting married but that’s something that we’ll just have to wait and see when Iga really pops the question.

Iga and I have been living together ever since May 2015 and yes the journey has been rough. I mean what couple doesn’t have their crazy arguments? We argued like crazy and said things we never meant, but we love each other so much that we can’t live without one another. We have seen our most beautiful to the ugliest moments together. I love spending every second with her, I’m so attached to her that I don’t ever want to let her go.

She became my game changer, the one to change my life around in all the good ways. I look for her when I need a shoulder to cry on, when I need someone to vent to and when I need someone to talk shit with. I learned to braid her so that she would never have to search for another girl to braid her up. I feel butterflies inside when she gives me this certain look, the “I’m so in love” look. She became my knight in shining armor that I always searched for. I searched for someone to love me when come to find out she was always here, SHE was the one. The one who would sweep my off my feet, the one who would see my ugly cry, the one who would be there for EVERY family event and the one to be here to forever hold me down. I plan on marrying her legally, changing my last name to hers and maybe a year from whenever it happens to have children, whether it be adoption or spending money on getting me inseminated and finding a sperm donor. I want my happy ever after with her. Like I said before Iga is my game changer and she’s a blessing to my life. I love her endlessly and can’t wait to spend forever with her. This piece is for you baby.

I love you Mulioaiga S Filimaua.

#lesbiansamoancouple #thegamechanger #how it all began #loveofmylife

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