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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 3 years

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We Met Within This Screen (final chapter, pt. 2, the end.)

part one here

A/N: Thank you guys for all of your wonderful comments and the love sent my way for this fanfic. I've had a great time writing it despite its rocky moments. I really hope this ending does it justice; I've never gotten to write a proper conclusion to anything like this before. It's the first time I've ever completed a multi-chapter work such as this, so I'm happy. 🍾🥂 Here's to finishing what you start, and enjoy. :)

Just shy of a half-hour later, he was finished telling the story. She had sat the both of them down on the couch, one on each end, and he explained in great detail everything leading up to current-day. Tales of the ooze, Mutagen, as he'd told her; the rat named Splinter, a man formerly known as Hamato Yoshi, who had fathered and trained them; and lastly, their mission. Be of service, protect the city; have a good heart. And Donnie most certainly had a good heart. He was not the outlandish figure she'd first saw and recognized him as. He was the guy she had come to know as Bo, Donatello, who was the same person she'd talked to this whole time. At some points of the retelling, he got excited to share some of their adventures. This came after their humble beginnings of struggling in the sewers. Donnie was happy to share after so long of dodging saying anything about his life.

She nodded along to this talking. "...and that's how we're here," he said finally, putting his hands on his legs. "Since we're here, any questions?"

She replied with a no, looking over at the TV that had remained on the entire time. Donnie stayed seated as she got up and got the remote, also glancing at the clock on the wall, which read 10:45 PM. She switched the TV off. Looks like it's time to go, he thought. He rose from the couch and fixed the pillow he'd displaced.

"Donnie, this has been...strange," and for a split second, his face fell, "but not bad! Though, it is getting late."

"Oh, no—yeah, no, I understand," he sputtered bashfully, activating the staff which collapsed back into its smaller form. He tucked it away somewhere on him.

For a moment, he simply stood there as if wanting to say something, but the words never found him. "So it's goodbye?" he asked quietly. The way he said it made it seem like he thought it was forever. But it was on until they figured out how to pick up where they left off after that night. Undoubtedly, things would be different going forward. He didn't know if that would be good or bad.

"Only until next time," she told him, a small smile present. He visibly relaxed. "You're still my friend, Donatello."

He smiled. "I knew that. Totally."

Showing himself out, he stepped onto the balcony, looking back one last time before he bounded away. He held up his hand and gave a small wave.

But she hadn't said bye yet, so he stuck around for a moment longer, though it was met with an awkward silence. He was beginning to go over the railing when she ran over to the door, stopping him. "Wait," she said, and he crawled back over the railing with a confused but curious expression. "I actually do have a question. Just one, before you go."

"Sure," he said, inviting her to go on. She had to look up to see his face being so close.

Tenderly, she asked, "Why'd you not tell me, after all that time? Would you have ever chosen to do this if it hadn't been for an accident?"

Donnie couldn't give her an answer on that.

He sighed, slightly shaking his head. "I couldn't, [y/n]. We've been through this."

"I only wanted you to trust me, Donnie," she responded. And that was, really, how she'd felt. Throughout their entire friendship, it had felt one-sided in that regard. Trusting but not trusted, but she hadn't any idea of what was truly going on, at the time.

Donnie pondered her question: If there hadn't been some kind of divine intervention, would he have ever had the chance to have something more with her than words on a screen?

He swallowed as she took a small step closer.

"I just wanted you to care about me." His volume was barely above a whisper. He clenched his jaw briefly, as if he was concerned over his own words. His golden-brown eyes wandered from your eyes on downward.

"I did—I do care about you, what makes you say that?" she questioned, puzzled.

He vaguely gestured at his body, "Wouldn't this be a little hard grasp over text? Isn't it hard to accept even now?"

Though she didn't answer, he had a feeling that he was correct about one of those things—she did have to wrap her head around everything. Tentatively, both watched as her fingers brushed against his own. His hand moved along with hers, seeing and feeling the delicateness. Until they laced together as well as they could, her heart steady while his was beginning to race. His hand even trembled ever so slightly. He would have wanted to stay like that forever, had it not been for the fact that he was uncertain where they now stood. Where he stood in your eyes. What did this mean?

Putting her other hand on his shoulder, she tried to conjure a smile. But it flickered out as she murmured, leaning into him, "Does this answer your question?" She had to stand on the tips of her toes, while his hand tightened in hers involuntarily, almost too shocked to bend down for what was coming. The one thing he hadn't accounted for in their meeting, not once—and it was happening.

He seemed like he was going to stammer something, but her lips closed the gap and planted softly on his.

There is no way.

There is no way this is happening—but I'm seeing it with my own eyes!

Donnie lost all control the moment her lips pressed against his. His hand squeezed hers, shaking as his heart pounded in his chest. I'm shaking. Why am I shaking?

His eyes which had been wide were now fluttering closed. For the better half of the kiss, every other thought beside the ones of her was ejected. He couldn't have pulled away, even if he'd wanted. He was hers completely. That was irrevocable.

It was only until she decided it was time to step back did they part, him looking at her entrancing face once more, and her swallowing heavily. That kiss had been something she'd dreamed of before. Never Knowing it would be held on the smooth, moist lips of a humanoid turtle, rather than those or a human man. In fact, she had to convince herself that she wasn't dreaming. Her hand slid down his shoulder and onto his chestplate. It was rough, almost possessing a grain under her fingertips. Her thumb rubbed the back of his hand. He thought he felt a tingle from the trail her fingers left.

Donnie was on Cloud Nine for a solid minute before coming back to his senses. "That...I…" he struggled to find the words. For a brain that worked so fast, he felt utterly slow, then.

She cracked a smile, face contorted into one of hope and a hint of embarrassment. "Is it too late to say that I've waited to do that for a while now?" she laughed.

"N-no," he said, still trying to organize his thoughts. "No, it isn't."

"Okay, good," she replied with a relieved exhale.

Her hand went from his chest to his arm, feeling the taut muscle as it traveled down. His hand enveloped hers while the other lifted, going to touch her cheek. "Does this mean…?" he trailed off.

"It means I really, really like you, Donnie. I have since we played that game."

He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb, "I really like you, too," he mimicked, voice soft.

Maybe even that was an understatement.

"I think I…"

A noise nearby alerted him, and on instinct, he set her behind himself on defense. Don't be an attack now, of all times, he thought, listening closely. He told her to be quiet and to not say anything, using his forearm to gently push her back into the apartment. He pulled out his staff.

"Sup dude and dudette!" an all too familiar voice beamed, the orange-banded turtle appearing hanging upside down from the balcony above. [Y/N] shrieked, and Donnie nearly bashed his brother in the head, sucking in a sharp breath as he accidentally backpedaled into her. Mikey waved and flashed a grin. "Don't worry, we didn't see anything...except for you two kissing, that was really unexpected!" He flipped down onto the balcony, and Donnie grumbled something, going in for a zap to his brother's plastron. Mikey dodged it, this time. Donnie tried again; unsuccessful. "Oop—saw that one coming," Mikey laughed, jovial.

Donnie groaned, half-embarrassed and half-annoyed, "Mikey, what are you doing here?"

Waltzing into her apartment, Mikey crossed his arms with a wink sent the human's way. "Michelangelo, wingman to the big special D right here," he introduced himself brightly, "but you can call me Mikey."

Donnie slapped his hand to his flushed face, hoping that he was the only one who noticed Mikey's less-than-classy wording.

"So you're all named after Renaissance painters?" asked [y/n], lifting a brow.

Exhaling, Donnie stepped between them, "[Y/N], this is Mikey, my brother. The one that—"

"Got you together!"

"—that got us into this predicament," he'd almost said, but he realized as Mikey said that, he owed their meeting all to him. It had all started with that talk they had had late that day, after patrol, and ended on her balcony, Donnie getting to experience a kiss for the first time. With someone he'd never imagined he would have ever been able to touch, let alone share something like that with. Yes, as much of a hassle everything up until that point had been, it was all thanks to Mikey.

Donnie grinned, turning to his brother and draping his arm over the back of his shoulders. "Yeah, you did," he agreed. Mikey smiled as he looked down at him with fondness. He wrapped an arm around Donnie's shell in return.

"You know it, brah. Oh, and I take cash or pi—"

"Don't push it, younger bro." Donnie rolled his eyes.

Waiiiiit a minute.

Mumbling for [y/n] to hold that thought, Donnie, suspicious, crept over toward the balcony. "We"?

Mikey tried to make chatter with her while he did so, mentioning how he liked what she'd done with the place.

He checked if the coast was clear first before leaning onto the railing on his shell, squinting his eyes. And he was not surprised at all to see Raph and Leo looking down at him from over the edge of the roof. Leo had his recognizable expression of: "You'd better wrap it up." Donnie drooped his shoulders and ducked back inside. Couldn't last forever, he thought. Despite whatever was waiting for him on the roof or at home, he could still smile on the day he'd had. He would be thinking about that kiss for weeks.

"I guess it's bye for real this time," he told [y/n], sad to go what felt like so soon, but really was content. The night could not have gone better. "I have to, you know, go get flamed by my oldest brother. Probably."

"We'll be in touch, Donnie," she replied. "Um...text me when you get home? Just so I know you got there alright."

Smiling, Donnie nodded.

Mikey budded in, "Hey, don't forget about me here."

Chuckling, Donnie headed for the door, taking Mikey but the upper arm along with him. They stopped one last time to waved to her before making their exit.

Leo and Raph met the pair at the top. Raph was the first to speak, asking skeptically, "And yer sure this girl is alright?"

"Positive," Donnie answered with confidence.

After a moment of trying to come up with some kind of remark, Raph let out a huff. "You got the nerve, I'll tell you that." He held out his fist ready for a bump, and when Donnie didn't immediately reciprocate, grumbled "Well? Don't leave me hangin', Don." Realizing what he wanted, Donnie went right in for the fist bump.

Pulling away, Donnie asked, "So you're not mad?" He gave some space between himself and the incoming Leo.

Raph scoffed lightly and shrugged. "I may not trust her, but I trust you," he responded, gruff as usual. "Just don't expect me to be all friendly and whatnot—I ain't doin' it."

"You don't have to do anything, Raph."

And then Donnie was face-to-face with Leo, who's intensely blue eyes were trained on him for a few seconds too long. Donnie wondered what he was thinking until he sighed, and then spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Behind Leo, Mikey was in awe.

"That's a new one," Raph chuffed. He left the circle to watch from the edge of the building. Mikey stuck around, but only far enough to be in ear shot. If something coming from Leo started off with a sincere "I'm sorry", he wouldn't miss it.

"Yes, you heard. I'm sorry," Leo admitted, bringing his eyes up from the ground. "I shouldn't have pressured you, Donnie. I know that you can handle yourself. I was just trying to protect you and our family," he explained, pausing to glance over at the other two brothers, "but…yeah. I'm sorry for pushing you, Don. I was kind of a jerk back there."

Deciding he didn't have any words good enough to say what he wanted to, Donnie simply pulled Leo in for half-hug, rocking him with him. Leo wore his lopsided smile as he gave Donnie's shell a slap.

"That...was…"

They stepped away from each other, staring at Mikey quizzically.

"...beautiful, bros," he finished in a whisper.

They stayed for a minute just watching the city go by, the clock ticking by later into the night. Donnie finally thought to ask Leo how Splinter was, because he definitely knew what was going down. He was a smart old man—and beside, Donnie had made no effort to pretend that wasn't what he was doing when he'd initially left. If Splinter knew, Splinter knew. He was still mildly afraid of Leo's response.

"You want the truth?" Leo questioned, his expression briefly changing to one of a cringe.

"I mean, I'd like to know what I'm in for," Donnie replied in an obvious manner.

"He was angry, at first. Didn't know you left until he was done with his talk with Mikey. Also surprised that you actually went through with it. But, after that...he seemed like he understood, in a way, I guess. I didn't ask questions. You'll have to confront him about it yourself, because he just sent me and Raph out to get you."

Donnie kept his eyes on the sidewalk below them, and the occasional person walking it. "And Mikey?" he asked, quizzical.

"He insisted," Leo groaned.

"You know I can't pass up an opportunity to see D get his first kiss!"

"Oh, shut up, you had no idea that was gonna happen. You just wanted to go because me 'n Leo were goin'," Raph argued, flicking his head. "Weren't you supposed to stay in by Splinter's orders?"

Mikey crossed his arms and turned away, "I don't have to take this abuse." He was, indeed, meant to stay behind. But the boy couldn't help himself.

Once the banter died down, they were left contemplating whether they wanted to stay out a little longer, or if it was time to turn in. It had already been a long night, but in honesty, Donnie wasn't ready to go quite yet. He still felt as though he had so much to say to [y/n], but he supposed that time had already passed. At least until next time, if or when that was. Raph took a break from his lookout and sat next to Donnie with a grunt. He wasn't good with mush or sensitive things, but he felt compelled to ask "What're you gonna do now?"

Donnie hummed in question.

"Well, she knows. And by the looks of things—erm—the look of one particular thing, you two are still goin' steady."

Ugh, they saw it. Donnie moaned, a cold flush coming over his face. I can't have anything private in this family.

Raph pushed him on his shoulder. "Ya shouldn't mack on someone by the doorway if ya don't wanna be seen," he jested.

"I don't know what's next, Raph," Donnie confessed. "We didn't exactly...make anything official after that."

Once they were back on the move towards home, they all dropped into the nearest manhole, but Donnie remained where he was, saying he would catch up to them. He was the fastest of the four, after all.

"I hope you're still awake," he mumbled to himself as he reached for his phone. They were close to home, anyway. And it was quiet. He typed:

"I'm almost home, [y/n]. All safe."

A couple of minutes later, she responded.

"Okay, that's good

Your brother is quite the character, by the way"

"He is who he is, lol"

"He seems nice though."

Walking down along the sewers, he took his time. What was a little longer after the night he'd had?

"Donnie, what were you going to say when Michelangelo interrupted us?"

He stopped in his tracks and thought, having nearly forgotten that he was going to actually say it. He didn't just like her—for the first time, he was sure he loved her.

"That I think I love you, [y/n]."

He regretted not saying it when he was with her, but he just couldn't wait.

There was a worrisome pause on her end in which he imagined she was staring at her screen thinking about how strong that came off, that it was uncalled for, that he was going too fast—

"I said I liked you

But that was not quite the truth

I love you, Donnie."

Golden-brown eyes sparkling, he let out a laugh, unable to contain his happiness, and the rest of the brothers smiled to themselves hearing the whoop of joy and excitement echo in the tunnel.

His adventure in love and friendship had started within a screen, but he was bound to it no longer. This was the opening of a new chapter in his life.

Tag list: @kokokatsworld @criminaly-supernatural @dianounais @spaceman-main @sheepdarkhours @raphaelsrightarm

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terrablaze514 · 5 years

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Being Black + R. Kelly, Living With Secrets, and Writing Catatonic Fanfics

Hey everyone.

I'm up extra early, because this is bugging my mind and heart right now. The words might leave if I don't voice (write) it.

In a few hours, I'll be going to church again. Christian, yes. Predominantly Black, you've guessed it. Both of these cancel each other out. Why?

Despite my suspicions growing up, the vast majority of Black people I knew (family, friends, acquaintances, etc.) were still jamming to R. Kelly's music. It makes all the more sense why he's known as, "The Pied Piper", and that's scary as buck if you stop to think about it.

I've never understood why he was permitted to keep making music. Why the buck does Wendy Williams still have an audience? Why did 2Pac and Michael Jackson get destroyed by false allegations (until their sunset), while R. Kelly is still a free man in the music industry with proof of sexual deviance in multiple court cases?

I was 7 when I was molested by a grown woman. I couldn't approach my parents about it, because she became a close friend to my mother, got closer to other notable family friends, and I was already misunderstood at school and church (Grade 2 was a horrible year). My parents were also coming to terms with their breakup, so it didn't help (because what if they had another physical altercation?). Top that with the ongoing belief that men were innately predators...

October 2018, I've had a nightmare of her stalking me while visiting my hometown (the 514) - woke up in a sweat, purchased Black Panther on Google Play Movies, and watched the movie until my eyes shut again... Because mentally, I needed to feel safe. I wanted Wakanda's protection. And I ended up getting it in my dreams (occasionally). M'Baku and The Jabari Tribe are the best!

Back on topic... So, while I'm happy that justice is happening, I'm also disappointed. Deeply disappointed in The Black Community for sweeping this issue under the rug.👏🏾Every.👏🏾 Single.👏🏾Time.👏🏾 I understand firsthand why it's hard to come forward. Allow me to explain (and these are some of the reasons why going to church is a farce in my book).

I've shared with a few Gundam Wing fans (via Discord) that I've sung in three choirs (four if school curriculum counts). To this day, I still jam to my favourite songs and sing as a secret means to calm down when times are too stressful (and if I have no access to a pen and notebook). So why bring this up? Simply put, during my tenure in the third choir, I was spanked and grabbed on the buttocks for holding the door open for an elderly man. [This isn't funny, so if you're laughing, check yourself or leave my blog ASAP]. Not only did this trigger my fear and cripple my confidence as a young adult, but I wasn't able to focus. I've felt scared... Moreso when I've relayed the incident to a few choir members. They've laughed it off, because it sounded funny to them.

It didn't help that this also happened a week after one of my closest friends had died from cancer (and I couldn't make it to his funeral). So being forced to laugh it off, take it with a grain of salt, and keeping it moving wasn't easy. Also, being Black means you don't cry. "Stay strong," is all people would ever say.

I've also been approached and stalked by some strange men, around my age (no older than 27). I'd be waiting at the bus stop so I can commute to work. Strange man shows up, and requests (to the point of begging) that I take the taxi with him. One week later, he begs me to skip work and come over to his place. For what, only God knows. I didn't go, but I've sent text messages to friends. The majority of them found it funny - except one, who also called to check up on me. If it were up to him, he'd drive across town and set the stalker straight.

That was then.

There was a fellow co-worker (cisgender woman) who used to touch, or feel up my inner thighs and buttocks without my consent, and in the presence of customers. How many times have I reported her, yet supervisors promoted her, and would say, "That's her way of giving people props."

What the heck?

Then, by the time I was 25, I've reached my breaking point despite graduating from college and acquiring two careers to call my own. My physical appearance (gaining weight), marital status ("let's find a boyfriend for you on WhatsApp Messenger"), and popularity were the only things that mattered. Damn it all to the grave.

Dating prospects were more like, groomers. And they were all Christian Churchians.💯 I've never given up the V-card, but I've tried to fit in to the point of mental starvation and social exhaustion. In the worst case scenario, I've heard adults (including a parent) poke rape jokes. What's so funny about that?

We sure as hell did not deserve Aaliyah, because the ignorance is real.

I've ended up writing a fanfic project that deals with the music industry, and emphasizes deep comparisons between a good rep team versus an evil rep team, by pulling bits and pieces of experiences by real artists, as well as my "inability to be more transparent/speak up/get out of my shell", and conceptions of what could go wrong if there was no access to a healthy outlet... Combined them into the realities of the characters I'm borrowing. It's still in progress; I'm a perfectionist, yet, the story needs to be told.

There's a second project where two cousins grow up together in the kingdom, get separated after the death of a family member, and the elder cousin searches for his bestie in America. Friendships are formed, but there's also a rampant rape culture against girls in the community where his cousin took residence... Pedophiles will get killed after witnessing the dismissal of reports by police. Go figure.

Writing these types of things, is an outlet. I don't condone abuse, murder, things of that dark nature, but honestly. I grew up in a rape culture. I need a healthy way to deal with (process) that.

Talking about it to people is only safe enough in therapy sessions. Outside of that, get laughed at. Mocked. Told that You deserve it (or did something to deserve it).

I've contemplated suicide last month. Resurfaced memories do more harm than good... And even if I followed through on December 29th (I'm glad I didn't), everything in this post, especially the woman predator who was a babysitter, is the secret I would've taken to my grave. Who could I talk to without feeling unsafe or unwelcome? Without laughing it off in a dismissive manner? Without assuming that I've done something to deserve it, like forgetting to pull on my panties first?

No one.

I've been taught that my big butt, juicy thighs, bust... Yet fat belly, rolls on my back, and somewhat bouncy arms, are something to be ashamed of. From 14 to 23, I used to sport Beyoncé's figure (used to be slimmer)... Yet I still had to feel guilty for embracing that, because if I didn't cover up... If I walked out late... If I didn't keep up with trends... if I didn't turn up for what... If I didn't drop it like it's hot, turn around and bump bump bump, my body too bootylicious for 'em, 'cause if it's worth it lemme work it... And whenever I did these things...

I am guilty.

Now that I'm older, and I don't do these things as often...

I am still guilty.

Because I grew up in a community and a society that hates rapists and pedophiles while making excuses for rapists and pedophiles if I spoke up. If other girls and women spoke up. If boys and men came forward with their true accounts without receiving homophobic comments, or the overused, "You became a real man, congratulations!" Canada's Supreme Court will not keep a sex predator behind bars for more than ten years. That's all the additional proof you need.

The hypocrisy was real, and it still is.

There was an incident where a little girl complained about a church elder touching her... No one believed her.

Later on in my teens, a teenage boy was falsely accused of sexual harassment, and everyone believed the lie (except his closest friends, whom told her to stop following them around).

Another church elder (and a Bible thumper), fondled my breasts out of spite - and my mother blamed me! The next time I've seen that elder, I've set her straight, but who the hell am I for talking? She's still the most respected because she knows every scripture passage, from Genesis to Revelation, and also knows every volume, word for word, from The Spirit of Prophecy. So she has no sin...

THE LIES!

I was nervous shaky the entire time.

So growing up Black, in a church community, as a girl (now a woman) had many catastrophes. I'm not crazy for putting this out there, just keeping it real. I'll be in church in approximately less than three hours from now, and if anyone cracks jokes or makes demeaning comments about R. Kelly's current and former victims, talking about how they're fast, and how they should've come forward... Nah, Hollywood gets away with sexual deviance against minors. A large percentage of them have bought R. Kelly's music, at music stores and on iTunes/Google Play Music. No surprise, huh? As much as I love my church family, I cannot accommodate the ignorance that's gone on for my whole life so far. *Sigh* This has blackened my heart, I just... I am at a loss, not only for R. Kelly's victims, but every child and youth who will be targeted by men and women who cannot be trusted.

I will always support Black Empowerment, Black Lives Matter and Black History... But I have zero tolerance for the enabling of pedophiles and rapists. Even the jokes. It's distasteful.

If you are a supporter/apologist of R. Kelly, Sparkle, Marques Houston, and any other person who'd used/subjected minors to assault and/or grooming, get off my page. And stop pretending to be a huge Aaliyah fan... We've lost her because the adults in her life had failed in exchange for her fame. We also owe Michael Jackson's family an apology for destroying his character and career under false allegations, while R. Kelly was still a free man, preying on girls and grooming boys to become like him... And all the evidence of his crimes were readily available on the archives while I was in Junior High. While we're at it, Kitti Jones and Drea Kelly need to take several seats. They've had every opportunity to approach the police. They've known what R. Kelly did to all those girls and how it's destroyed their youth. They are the poorest examples of how to put sex offenders in their place, just so they can get money now that #MeToo (who never gave a damn about half of your experiences, unless you were penetrated by a man)... Nuh-uh! The lives that were destroyed by rape, molestation, grooming and exploitation matter more than the money anyone might make from a case that should've been dealt with decades ago! My heart is very heavy throughout this post. I know it's Sabbath hours, but I'm currently listening to "Don't Stay" by Linkin Park, because it truly reflects my thoughts and memories, in the wake of #SurvivingRKelly.

Everyone (especially Black people) who put on R. Kelly during weddings and birthday celebrations, I've taken notes. You will not be trusted around my future children (if it's meant to be). I've never healed, yet. The community does not offer a safe space to heal from the damage that's been done. So when I hear about Chester Bennington (Linkin Park -I hope I spelled his name right), AJ and Nick (Backstreet Boys - their parents stood up for their sons), B2K (especially Raz-B), IMx, Sammy, O'Ryan, the victim of Brock Turner, a few victims of Bill Cosby and that actor from 7th Heaven, the young girl who was sexually assaulted and exploited by that loser who was granted a chance to finish up his studies at UofC (University of Calgary), Natasha McKenna who was stripped, dehumanized and tasered in her last moments by eight men, the former victims of Eddie Long who were forcibly silenced, the girl who was raped, hospitalized and raped again in the hospital by her father and brother... This is real ish. I have no more words. Leave my page if you support R. Kelly... Special shoutout to John Legend for keeping it real. Another special shoutout to Terry Crews who spoke up. To the victims of Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey, you also need to get your voices heard, because you also matter. To the victims of Ryan Seacrest, the same also applies. May Corey Haim Rest in Power, because Charlie Sheen is getting his just reward for what he did decades ago. Although I'm glad B2K is reuniting for tour, I've been conflicted with how R. Kelly wrote your popular hits. That wasn't your fault, though. Your former manager (Chris Stokes - another pedophile) had that set up for your grooming - good thing y'all left TUG behind when you did. Other artists and notable faces in the entertainment industry - you don't have to comment, but I beseech you to STOP collaborating with R. Kelly. What he did to those girls is beyond me. If you keep enabling him, you're now guilty for proving that rape is okay.

It is not.💯

#r. kelly #terrablaze514 #memories #true story #surviving r. kelly

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