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astorytellerforthatgirl · 6 years

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For Everyone Loving That Girl...

Countless words were described for Maine Mendoza by fans: Phenomenal Star, Game Changer, Twitter Princess, Queen of Endorsement, and as for me recently I called Maine as Bearer of Light in my first blog entry. It is not surprising that true fans, regardless as to whatever faction they belong to, continuously love Maine Mendoza for her genuine character.

Much has been said about Maine from the start of this narrative to the present plot of her career. I wonder though, from a different perspective, if there was a special post discussing her fans.

I felt compelled to wholeheartedly grant my writing passion to do my own take of paying tributes to the true fans of Maine. This blog post is for you. Yes you! Allow me to describe you in the best way that I can.

I am aware of the faction in the fandom of Maine For this post, let me set aside first the differences, issues, conflicts, and misunderstandings dividing us. For this post allow me to speak with the language everyone can understand: our love for Maine.

Disclaimer: I am sorry in advance if some of my words come out too strong for you. I just want to show I care for you.

For the Shippers, I am not telling you to just stop with how you fangirl over the tandem you love. What I am asking from you is to do it responsibly. Place a thick wall between reality and fantasy. No one knows the future of any loveteam, a loveteam can be like DongYan who ended up happily together, Bobby Andrews and Angelu de Leon who became good friends, or Hero Angeles and Sandara Park that are not talking to each other based on Hero’s interview few years ago. You are the masters of your soul. You can guard your heart. You have so much to share and give as evidenced by the massive success of Aldub in the past years because of your support. Bank on only the goodness of your heart. Focus on loving not just Aldub as a loveteam, but also celebrating their individuality. For the times Aldub give you joy, please return that with respect and gratitude. And if ever you are hurt with the series of events happening, do not vent it out against Maine or Alden. You can simply walk away without letting hatred get in your heart. That is not your nature. Thank you for all the support you have given to Aldub. Regardless as to where this narrative gets, Aldub and you as Aldub Nation have already marked records and achievements, and formed friendships and advocacy. Reminisce on the good memories. :)

For the Mulats, I know how much you love Maine that you’re willing to go to the extent of taking the front-row attacks of the smear campaign and fight back with your rebuttals. I do not have that much resilience against the enemies’ hatred, loathe, anger, and rage against Maine. You are there, taking the front-row attacks, hence at times their negativity inflicts you too. Let me share a quote from Paulo Coelho’s book (I forgot what book I read it. HAHA!) A samurai master did not flinch from the challengers’ offensive words. He said instead “Insults are like gifts, if you don’t accept them, it remains with the giver.” I am challenging you now to turn your hatred to apathy. All of you have a high IQ but clouded EQ most of the times. I am saddened and hurt too with what’s happening around your circle. First, some of you tend to be too critical of everyone Maine mingles with but let me assure you Maine’s discernment is better than us because she chooses people whom she will trust completely. Second, other mulats are willing to go down low too as you answer back against Maine’s bashers. You don’t need to reveal their personal information and mock them. Vengeance is not ours. God sees the truth but just waits. This plot of smear campaign against Maine will end soon. On the brighter side, allow me to take this opportunity to say thank you because it was your faction, your group that helped me thought “What if I fight for Maine too? What if I resonate the love and courage other fans of Maine has for her?” You are fighting for the crown princess as warriors. I will do my part now as the messenger. You don’t need to get hurt again because Maine’s aura is calmer, brighter, and happier now. I know for sure Maine herself would not want anyone to crimson their hands with negativity just for the sake of protecting her. After all, wasn’t she who picked herself up? You have so much love and intelligence. You just need to control more of your emotions. I believe you will love Maine more as this smear campaign worsens but let us fight back with love and courage.

For the Silent Fangirls, I understand you. I was once there in your state especially because I don’t like fangirling over mainstream celebrities. The toxicity in the fandom of mainstream celebrities is more than thrice the level I have to endure in the volleyball world. That is why I choose to stay silent until the open letter comes. I love how a lot of you are telling me in my DM how much you love Maine and the happiness she brought in your life. Continue supporting Maine in the way that you know. You don’t need to join any faction too. You can be like me acting on my way and talking to all of the factions eliminating any subjective focal lens. Remember that Maine’s gratitude for all of her fans is so strong that even in your silence, she will hear it. In your simple actions of supporting in her career, it ripples into greater magnitude and reaches Maine too. :)

For Solid Maine United and other MOSF (Maine Official Solid Fan) Groups, you have my utmost respect for choosing to love Maine from the start of her viral dubsmash and staying now by her side despite of this chaotic plot twist in the narrative of her career. You love her in the worst days of bashings without resorting to answering back with hatred. If there are some of you who have turned their backs on Maine, let them go with open hearts. Just remember the good times you have shared with one another. I admire how much effort you have given for Maine. I felt in your aura that never did you demand Maine to give back the efforts you did for her. You have so much love for Maine in your heart I am praying your light will scatter too to all the fans of Maine. Thank you so much for making me remember to fight more with love and courage for Maine. We will continue the fight! No backing down! They give us hatred? We will reflect on them the light and love we got from Maine.

For Team No Group, these are the supporters of Maine who are out loud in expressing their respect and love for her. These are the fans who are not affiliated to any fan chapter or group. They do not consider themselves as mulats, shippers, or silent fangirls. They are focused on supporting Maine through the best way they can. I think I am a part of this classification since I am supporting Maine without considering myself included in the aforementioned groups. For the other Team No Group, thank you for your never ending support for Maine. Rest assured that your support and love is not less compared to others because we are all unique and distinct in showing how much we care for Maine. Continue doing what you have started. I am proud that most of you in Team No Group are acting alone since you are not part of a fan group and yet your voices continue to resonate. Thank you so much once again!

I, RJ speaking as the lone messenger, want you first to pause for a while.

Think of all the happiest, funniest, most touching, and most encouraging moments you have seen, heard, and experienced about Maine.

Was it her Yaya Dub days? Was it her fan interactions? Was it the words in her book, tweets, IG posts, ask.Fm, or interviews? Was it for how she shared her talent despite being a neophyte in showbiz?

…Or everything is your favorite moment because of Maine’s existence and presence? :)

Think of them all and feel your heart. Yes, put your hand over your heartbeat. Wipe your tears of joy, love, and gratitude. Those skipping beats and warm tears are the physical proofs how much you love That Girl, Maine Mendoza. Speak a word of blessing and gratitude to God that He allowed us to witness the story and love That Girl.

I do not know why you love Maine. I do not know when you took notice of Maine. I have no idea every little or grand efforts you did for Maine. What I am sure of is in one point in your life, Maine just came like a hurricane and since then, you never back down in loving her. Maine is like that metaphor in a John Green’s book (again I don’t know the book. HAHA) “If people are rain, I am a drizzle and she is the hurricane.” Maine entered our life and occupied a wide space in our heart.

Depending on the fans’ focal lens, Maine is a sister, daughter, best friend, niece, granddaughter. etc. At various moments in our life, Maine made us cry, happy, laugh, embrace life, conquer fear, forgive enemies, and fight with love and courage.

Too much smear campaigns happened recently and too much hatred divided the fans of Maine into different factions. This blog entry is my attempt to find the common ground between us all: our love for Maine Mendoza.

I want to say more…it’s just that my heart is bursting with overwhelming emotions like gratitude and care. I hope that this storyteller/messenger/writer who has received tons of blessings recently will be able to solidify your support for Maine while eliminating all forms of noises and negativity around us.

Mahal na mahal ko kayong lahat dahil minahal ninyo si Bearer of Light. If one day I reached all my dreams, I will acknowledge all fans of Maine as monumental catalyst for embracing my writing skills.

Let us love Maine to the point no negative words or actions will hurt us again. Let us protect, fight back, and take care of Maine, the Bearer of Light, with only Love and Courage in our hearts.

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#Maine Mendoza #Maine #MaineMendoza

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thesewords-mydiary · 7 years

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“I Swear It”- Chapter 2

“6x04 Missing Scene #2 - Night Terrors”

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, their background stories or the world in which they live. That belongs to George RR Martin, HBO and all other affiliates. I do not claim any of those as my own creations. This is simply a work of imagination. Furthermore, all characters in the story are consenting adults (at least 18 years of age).

Rating: Mature Characters: Jon Snow, Sansa Stark Fandom: Game of Thrones, ASOIAF Relationship: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark

Below is another "missing scene" between Jon x Sansa set in episode 6x04.

Mentions of Ramsay and some of Sansa's sufferings at his hands. Eludes to rape. So. Trigger warning. It's only vaguely mentioned a few times, but it's mentioned nonetheless.

I’ll put it below the cut.

She has night terrors.

Awful night terrors that are not really night terrors at all. Memories . Ramsay comes to her in the dark, hovers over her. His ice blue eyes gleam with pure elation as he uses his own body to mercilessly invade hers and the tip of his favorite daggers to cut away at her skin. He leaves deep lacerations that will become scars and a fear that will surely never stop haunting her.

Sansa never wakes from these terrors screaming. Through months of living with this ruthless torturer, she has learned not to outwardly show pains or fear. She has learned to cover them up. She has learned how to keep quiet because the opposite of quiet only means that he is winning. It has taken constant practice, but she has perfected the mask that she knows she must wear to survive in this cruel world. Even in her sleep, Sansa Stark knows that she must always continue to wear it.

And so she wakes from her night terrors -- memories -- gasping, holding her furs tightly to her body, guarding it from the onslaught of attacks that have chased her into her sleep. Her screams, thank the gods, do not follow her from dream world to reality.

On this night, however -- her first at Castle Black -- they do. Sansa wakes with a start to a darkened room, hearth burning low, and her mind immediately betrays her. Is she back in her prison chamber at Winterfell? Has she imagined her escape, her travels, her reunion with Jon? Is he here with her? Her body still aches terribly with the injuries inflicted upon it over the course of the moons spent within Ramsay’s grasp, and she finds herself screaming as terror grips her with a strength that she will never get used to.

Her vision blurs, her lungs ache, her entire body hurts, and though she hates herself for giving into it - for allowing her mask to drop - Sansa cannot find the strength to quiet herself.

She is not sure how long this continues - her eyes squeezed tightly shut, body curled in on itself, but she is soon aware of quick movement… another person in the room coming to her, stopping to stand above her. They remain speechless for a moment before they begin calling out to her, the voice deep but gentle… and she knows that it can’t be him. Ramsay would never be gentle in a scenario such as this. He’d take the opportunity given to him - her momentary weakness - and he would pounce upon her like a mountain lion would upon his prey. Hurt her because he could. Because this made him happy.

No. This could not be Ramsay, she thinks, as her mind slowly comes back to itself. She deliberately forces herself into silence and opens her eyes - Tully blue gaze meeting Stark grey.

“Jon,” she says, relief washing over her. Her chest rises and falls with pained gasps for more air, her hands grip the furs around her for purchase.

“Are you alright?” He whispers it after a moment of hesitation. His eyes are wide as they silently rake over her, concern painting his features. “Are you hurt?”

She’s silent for a few minutes, gathering her wits about her. Her throat and her chest burn the way they always did at the end of Ramsay’s visits to her room in Winterfell, and she wonders how long she’d been screaming. Jon has been with her mere hours. He must think her mad.

“Yes. I’m quite alright,” she nods, though she knows it’s silly. Sansa is obviously not alright. She forces herself to sit up - wincing in pain as she does so, as old injuries and a stiffness brought on by her nightmare slow her down. She watches Jon’s hands reach out, ready to help her, but they finally grab at the air and he forces them to fold into themselves. He’s afraid to touch her. “Night terror.” The answer is pathetic, she knows, but she doesn’t know what else to say. She realizes only now that there are tears on her cheeks. “I’d… thought I was somewhere else.”

“You had two more terrors before this one,” he mumbles, deep in thought. Jon’s eyes find hers in the dim light and he hesitates for a moment before sitting himself on the edge of the bed by her feet. “Do you get these often?”

Sansa shakes her head, reaches up to wipe her tears away. “Not to that extent. I’ve never cried out because of them.” She looks down into her lap, forces herself to breathe in and then out deeply. “They’ve only recently started. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be,” Jon says. He tips his head, trying to catch her gaze with his own. When she finally looks back up at him, he fixes her with a look that she knows is sincere. “You have nothing to apologize for, Sansa.” He pauses, licking his lips. It’s obvious that he has much to say, but is worried about possibly offending her. “Shall I wake Brienne? Do you need to speak with her?”

She shakes her head quickly. She knows that if Brienne is to come in to help her, she is going to force herself to stand guard for Sansa all night. The poor woman barely slept over the course of their journey to Castle Black. “Let her rest. She needs it.” Seeing him nod in silent agreement, she makes an effort to smile in response. Sansa grabs at the furs again, wraps them around herself and begins standing from the bed on unstable legs.

Jon stands as well, offering a hand to steady her when he sees her nearly tip over. “Where are you going?” He looks nervous, and she supposes he has every reason to be. Here she is showing up out of the blue and keeping him awake all night with screams of terror. She forces herself to not think on it further and begins walking slowly to one of the vacant chairs by the hearth.

“I just want to sit by the fire for a bit. I can’t very well go back to sleep at the moment,” Sansa replies, wrapping the furs tightly around herself as she settles slowly into her chair. She winces as she sits down and she doesn’t miss the distressed look on Jon’s face in response.

She notices the pallet he’s made for himself on the floor in front of her - a makeshift bed - and his sword at the ready beside it. She feels guilty for having him sleep there, but he’d insisted upon it earlier. Ghost moves from his spot at the head of the pallet and repositions himself next to her. She smiles, grateful for the additional comfort.

“You really should have someone look you over, Sansa,” Jon says, settling himself in the chair beside her. He runs his hands through his hair, exhaustion marking his features and then fixes her with a look that Sansa can only describe as gentle though she feels a decent amount of dread creeping up her spine at the sight of it. She knows what he’s going to say - again. The same thing he and Brienne and Podrick have all been saying to her since they’d arrived as Castle Black earlier. “I know that you’re hesitant, but your injuries could be quite serious. I could tr-”

“No,” she cuts him off, nearly shouting to do so. Her breathing has become erratic again, and she hates herself for it. She isn’t even sure when it began again. What has happened to her beautifully crafted mask? Why is she unable to keep it on in the presence of Jon? The mere thought of someone looking at her, touching her, makes her want to vomit. She drops her forehead to her knees which are curled up in the seat with her and forces her feeling of panic to retreat inside herself again. “I’m...I’m not comfortable with it. I’ll be alright with a few days’ rest. You’ll see.”

Jon eyes her wearily, but he’s unwilling to argue. He doesn’t know exactly what happened to her in Winterfell - no one does - but she’s told him enough that she’s confident he understands her need for him to stop pestering her about this at the moment. He nods after a little while, and she knows that he regrets it immediately. She watches his gaze flicker from hers, to the ground, to the fire, and back to catch hers once again. “I’m only concerned about you, Sansa. I want to help you, but…,” he pauses, looks down at his hands. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in trying to do so. So please just, tell me how you need me to help. Whenever that may be. I’ll do it.”

She smiles at him, settling back into her chair and finds herself breathing easily for the first time all night. Knowing that Jon is here for her, that he isn’t going to push or manipulate her into allowing him to do what he wants to do, that he would gladly take the frustration of not being able to do what he wants to do in order to make Sansa feel and know that she is safe… this means more to her than anything else in the world. She gets to have a choice. She gets to control her own life and decisions for once.

“I’m afraid of the night,” she finally whispers, tears springing to her eyes. “I endured many horrors in the nights over the last several moons.” She hadn’t expected to give him that information, though she knows it wouldn’t be hard for him to piece together. She’s also not ready to disclose anything else just yet, and she’s glad to see that Jon doesn’t look willing to press her for an elaboration.

She watches him closely for a moment, takes in the way his nostrils flare and how he takes special care at guarding his expression so as not to terrify Sansa himself. After another moment, she lets one of her hands escape the furs wrapped around her, pushing it into the divide between them and finds his surprisingly warm hand waiting on the other side. He spreads his fingers just enough for her to grip each of them with her own and gently squeezes them in protective reassurance.

“Those horrors won’t find you again,” Jon whispers back, a fierceness in even his quiet tone. It’s a promise. She knows it. “I’ll make sure of it.”

#tw: mentions of abuse #tw: mentions of rape #jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #sansa x jon #jon snow x sansa stark #sansa stark x jon snow #jonsa fics

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