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callsign-hummingbird · 3 years

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I’m not Your Indian Princess

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Native American Reader, Sam x Fem!Native American Reader(platonic)

WHAT DID I JUST WRITE???

Warnings: Triggers of racism, Strong Political Themes(most of you Natives will understand what I’m talking about), A bit of sexism, crack story..., Cas is not in this one. Sorry!

WARNING! IF YOU STRONGLY DISLIKE NATIVE AMERICAN PEOPLE, PLEASE LEAVE AND DON’T LEAVE ANY MEAN COMMENTS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! IF i DO FIND ANY OFFENSIVE COMMENTS, I WILL BLOCK YOU AND DELETE YOUR COMMENT(OR FIND A WAY). ALSO YOU MIGHT HAVE JUST GOT A WHOLE TRIBE OR FEW AFTER YOU. YOU WERE WARNED!!!!!!!

A/N: This one is for @tinymoony! hope you like! It’s sort of weird, so please forgive me.

The night was dark and the moon was out. It was almost a full moon, which meant that werewolves could be out right now, well metaphorically speaking. Tonight, there would be no werewolves and there most certainly would not be any werewolf hunting either. Tonight was Halloween and we would get a break from the storm that we called our life. Tonight we would rest and then start again tomorrow because tomorrow is when all the real monsters came out to play.

I scanned the page that was pulled up on my computer. Not a hunt in sight so far. I just finished my last hunt with a Wendigo and now I needed to find another one. It’s not that that I wanted to, but I needed to. I needed to keep my brain occupied or else it would drift back to that dark memory of the night I lost my cousin. Dark memories of that night flashed through my mind. I did not want to talk about it, nor did I want to speak about it. All I wanted to remember was that it happened that night and I needed to find the monster that killed my cousin. Along the way, I found a few more things to hunt and learned a few new things. I also found two tremendously good hunters as well. Their names were Sam and Dean Winchester and they wanted to hunt with me. Something about me being Native and helping them with the cultures and lores. I told them that I was only one tribe though and that there were many tribes that represented themselves as Native American or a better term would be Indigenous. They didn’t mind anyways and said that I could help with getting in with the tribes anyways. Apparently from what Sam has told me, it has been hard for them to even get some of the Indigenous people to help them. I told them that it was probably because of what happened back when America was being colonized and not to be offended by it- just learn and move forward. Ever since I joined them though, more Indigenous people have been more open to telling us things and opening up a little more.

“Hey (Y/N).” I looked up at the person calling my name, meeting beautiful, forest green eyes. The man with the beautiful, forest green eyes was named Sam Winchester. He had beautiful short brown hair that he spent hours on and a tall, towering frame that made him bigger than most. Even though he was tall, he still had the personality of a playful puppy. I smiled at him. “Yeah Sam?” I asked, looking back at my computer. “All you do is work, you need to just relax tonight.” I sighed and ran my hands over my face. He was right after all. I had to get away from the computer and start having a little more fun. If not for Sam, then for Dean. Dean... Dean Winchester was the oldest out of the two and he had me whipped. I loved how his eyes sparkled in the sun and how they complimented his face shape. I also loved how he styled his hair and how he looked so put together with the various hairstyles that he did. Oh and his voice. It was like warm, dark chocolate melting in my mouth. He did things to me, but it was not not just the physical things, it was also the things unseen as well. His personality was was a mix between a cute, little, feisty kitten and a ferocious tiger. Some of the girls that I have talked to have even compared him to a sex god. I wouldn’t go that far to describe him though, even he might and probably was good in bed.

I sighed and turned my head just in time to see him sitting at the bar, talking to a girl dressed in an offensive Native American Costume. The costume consisted of cheap brown fabric that tried imitating buckskin, but failed miserably. the skirt came up above her knees, showing all of her leg area. Her feet was cladded with brown boots that failed to be moccasins, while her chest area was on display as she leaned over and talked to Dean. She also had her blonde hair in two loose braids, while she had a beaded head band on and fake colored feathers in the back. With a revealing outfit like hers, there was literally nothing to the imagination. To make it worse, almost all the guys in the bar were gawking at her.

I shook my head and turned back to where Sam was sitting. Sam looked at me and then where I was looking a few minute ago. He just smiled at me knowingly. “(Y/N), that girl will never be as beautiful as you in such clothing.” I sighed and looked at him. “I don’t care if the girl holds a candle to me in that clothing, Sam. It’s outright disrespectful that she would even wear such a costume.” I said concernedly. The smile that he had on before was quickly replaced with a smile. “what do you mean?” he asked. This answer alone just made me frustrated. I sighed and got up. “You know what? Watch and learn.” I said and made my way out the barn. I would show him.

A few minutes after I left, I heard a voice calling out to me. It was Sam again. “(Y/N)! Wait up! Where are you going?” I huffed a little, turned around and looked back at him. “Do you want to know what a real Native American looks like? Because that is sure as heck isn’t it!” I started yelling. He looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” I looked around and took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault Sam. It’s just...” “Just what?” He asked, trying to look for some explanation from me. I sighed again. I’ve noticed I have been doing that a bunch lately. I looked at him again. “ It’s just that I can’t believe after all that I have taught Dean about Native American culture, he still has the mordacity to look at that girl who doesn’t even know what any of that stuff that she’s wearing even means. It’s literally a slap in my face and a joke to all Indigenous women out there.” I said, in a frustrated tone.

Before I even knew what was happening, I felt big arms make their way around my body, engulfing me in a hug. “I am so sorry.” he said. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back. “It’s ok.” I said in a whisper. He pulled away immediately and looked at me. “No it’s not! You’re right! With all that has happened with the Native American nation, Dean and I should be more respectful!” He pulled my hand and started pulling me back into the bar. This gesture made me confused. “Wait Sam, what are we doing.” I asked. He looked back at me and smiled. “I have an idea.” He said, mischievously.

After that, we went back in and got Dean. Dean was really disappointed, but Sam said that it was very important. The girl, who was with him looked very upset and gave me a mean look. Then she walked off and started talking to some other guy. Afterwards, Sam pulled us both back to Baby and we were off.

In what seemed like thirty minutes, we were back at the Bunker. Sam got out of his seat and with in minutes was opening my door. I was so very confused, but did not question that big genius in front of me. If he had a plan, he had a plan and I trusted that he had a plan.

As soon as we got into the bunker, he told me to get my stuff that I usually used for pow wows(for the sake of this fanfic, reader is a pow wow dancer. If you don’t know what that is, look it up. There’s too much to explain.). I stopped cold in my tracks. “Why?” I asked, looking at him. “Remember how you said that there was a cultural dance or pow wow near us that was happening to celebrate Halloween?” I just nodded. “But then I said that it was ok if we didn’t go because Dean wanted to do other things anyways?” I added in a question. Sam nodded and smiled. “Well, I was thinking that we could go to it and we would learn what real beauty an actual Native American girl has, instead of the crazy getups that those girls that Dean hangs out with wears. “ This answer made my lips form an O shape, while nodding. I just smiled and started to my room to get my stuff again.

As soon as I got into my room, I started packing my stuff. Dean, nor Sam have ever seen me in my regalia. I only just told them about this hobby of mine and how much it meant to me, but to see me in action? This would be weird and crazy, but I was going to trust Sam on this.

I continued to pack my stuff and then got my makeup that I usually wore for pow wows. Did I mention that Sam and Dean have not really seen me in a face full of make-up either? I mean, I touch up my brows a bit, wear a few swipes of mascara, and occasionally, maybe a neutral lip color, but that’s about it. I zipped up my suitcase and started for the front door of the bunker, while meeting Sam on the way. “Ready to show Dean what a real Native American looks like?” He asked. I nervously smiled and nodded. Let’s do this.

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It was a long drive to the gym where the pow wow was being held. Occasionally Dean would ask where we were going and Sam would just respond with a “You’ll See”. As soon as we came into the parking lot of the gym area, Sam stopped at the front and dropped me off. “Good Luck (Y/N).” He said, and then they were off, with Dean in question. I waved and then I started for the door. When I opened the door, the pow wow music filled my ears, making me want to cry. It had been a while since I have been to one, nevertheless competed in one. This would be my first time in a while, since dancing in a pow wow again.

I started towards the bathroom, where al the girls were going to get dressed. Flashbacks and memories of my family filled my mind. During another time, I would go with them to these things and dance with my siblings. We went to as many as we could when I was a child. Though, when my cousin got killed, I stopped going to them and started hunting, leaving my family behind. They thought that I was going to college, but I wasn’t and only I knew that. I couldn’t tell them because if I did, I risked getting them hurt or even killed, like my cousin.

As soon as I reached the bathroom, I went into the first stall that was occupied and started getting dressed. I put on my dress, belt, leggings, and moccasins and then started braiding my hair. The thought of Dean came into my mind. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, but let’s hope good? A part of myself told myself to stop thinking about him and to think about the things that I should be thinking about which were good things for myself and my family.

In no time, I was dressed and out of the stall, now focusing my head accessories, which included my head band, hair wraps, and a feather. Not the fake one, like the girl at the bar had, but a real one. Then I started on my makeup, fixing it to perfection.

The outfit and hair.

The full makeup look, besides the lips.

The lips.

As soon as I was done with everything, I took one last look in the mirror. Everything looked as good as I could get it, so I made my way out of the bathroom and to the gym area, where the music could be heard. Time to make a statement.

When I walked into the gym, all I could spot were native people just like me and the occasional Caucasian going few that wanted to immerse themselves in the culture. My eyes roamed every area of the gym, until they landed on a guy with naturally, short, wind blown hair shaped to the said and another guy with long hair, tucked behind his ears. They were looking at what was happening at the dance floor. I started walking over to them, when all of a sudden my category was called, which was women fancy shawl. I turned around and started making my way to the dance floor. As soon as I stepped into the floor, I made myself comfortable with all the other girls in my category. The thought of Dean and Sam and what Dean would think pushed all the way back into my mind. It was time to get in the zone.

I held my shawl close to my body, as the Mc started talking. He was just giving updates for a little while and he asked one of the drum groups to take it away. The music started and I closed my eyes. The beat filling my ears as I started dancing. Everything being pulled away from me as a I had the time of my life.

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Dean’s P.O.V

I watched as (Y/N) started dancing. Wow, I did not know that she could move like that. She looked so graceful and just breath taking. Everything about her was breath taking. She looked so much better than the girl in the bar. If I could compare her and the girl, that girl does not stand a chance against her. She was like what you saw in the picture when you ordered from Amazon and the girl was like what you get instead. (Y/N) was authentic and beautiful every way, in her culture or not. I turned to Sam, my jaw dropped. “She looks awesome.” was all I could manage Sam just smiled and nodded. “She’s beautiful.” He stated.

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The music ended and made my final pose. I took a few deep breaths to catch my breath and then I stood straighter and started walking to the entrance of the dance floor, while the other girls stood in line to be judged.

As I made my way outside of the of the dance floor, I immediately spotted Sam and Dean standing by the bleachers. At first, I was surprised that they even came in, but then I remembered why they were here. immediately, I turned around and started walking the other way. Thoughts of Dean not wanting to be here in the first place and him probably getting frustrated with me came into my mind. He probably was dragged in here by Sam. What would he think of me? He probably was going to think that I was just trying to impress him and that I like him because of it. That was not it at all though! I just wanted to make a point that, that girl in the bar was just a “clown” as everyone would say today and that Indigenous Women were more than what she was portraying.

As I was walking away, I heard my name being called through the loud music. I started walking faster, until I was almost running now. I pushed through a crowd of people lined up to get food and quickly said sorry. Then I was running again. The person kept calling my name and now that we were away from the loud music, I knew who it was.

Dean Winchester was calling my name, while I ran away from him. He was running after me trying to catch up to me. In any other setting this would be a dream come true, but this was just not the setting. I wanted him to effortlessly fall for me. I didn’t want to force him, just because I showed him a part of me that was different. A part that he didn’t get to see every day and that showed a part of my inner beauty(Sam’s words, not mine).

I finally made my way, running outside and stopped until I was at the end of the parking lot and stopped. I bent over, while my hands went to my knees. My breaths came out in deep spurts every now and then. Dancing and running afterwards was not a good combination. I put my hands behind my head and tried to control my breathing.

As I turned around to start walking back, I stopped in my tracks. There in my peripheral vison stood the very man that I didn’t want to see right now. He was looking me up and down with a look of awe. “Hi.” he finally said, after a little bit of silence. I looked down at the floor and didn’t say anything. “(Y/N).” he said again. I signed and looked back him, meeting his beautiful, green eyes. “What?” I said a little harshly. This shocked him and made him step back a little. “You want me now, after you just saw me? You didn’t want me back at the bar, while you were hanging with that skimpy girl, who was making a fool out of herself, while she was trying to imitate me!” I yelled. I wasn’t even trying to hold it in anymore. It was too much and I needed to let it out. “(Y/N), I-” I cut him off. “No, you listen Dean Freaking Winchester! You are a disrespectful jerk.! You know that!” His eyebrows were scrunched, while a look of confusion washed over his face. “Why am I a jerk?” he asked. I sighed, trying not to lose my composer. “You don’t have any respect for my culture at all!” “Why do you say that? I have the utmost respect for your culture! I just stood in there and watched you dance! I was entranced by you! Why would you say that?” He was now yelling and pointing at the door to the gym.

Tears started making their way down my face, probably ruining my makeup. “BECAUSE!” I screamed. This made him shut up and look at me. There was a moment of silence between us. He looked shocked and I am pretty sure that I looked terrified. “Because.” I said, more softly. “You were staring at her in that stupid outfit and that outfit shows so much disrespect to me and the people that I represented tonight. I expected more from you Dean.” My head turned away, while I closed my eyes. Tears kept coming out, probably washing all my blush, concealer, and foundation off. “(Y/N), I would never-” I cut him off again. “Save it.” I said, making my way past him and back into the gym.

From what I could remember, he didn’t even call my name after that. He didn’t even run after me. Part of me wanted him to, but the other half was just frustrated and heartbroken with him that I didn’t have the motivation to care.

I went inside and found Sam waiting for me. I think he knew what happened because his arms were in the form of wanting to give me a hug. I let him engulf me in a big bearlike hug and then I pulled away. He smiled sadly and wiped my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You looked amazing out there tonight.”he softly spoke. I sadly smiled and pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you.” I said into his chest and then pulled away again. “Can we go now Sam?” He just nodded and let me go get changed.

I quickly got changed and put everything back into my suitcase. I took my accessories out of my hair and slowly undid my hair, while looking at myself in the same mirror that I got ready in before this all happened. I looked at myself and smiled. “Everything is going to be ok.” I whispered to myself.

From the corner of my eye, I saw an elderly women all girded up in buckskin walking towards me. “Shiyazhi, you are going to be okay.” she said, touching my shoulder. From the word that she used, I could tell that she was Navajo. The only reason that I knew that was because I had a friend(or if you’re Navajo, just disregard this sentence.) who was Navajo. The word meant baby or my baby- she was just trying to be nice.

I smiled at her and then took the top of my suitcase and made my way out. Before I went though, I turned around to her and said thank you. She smiled and nodded.

I opened the door to the bathroom and made my way outside, seeing Sam waiting for me while watching the dancers still. I came up to him and set my suit case down. “Are you ready?” I asked, seemingly knocking him out of his thoughts. He turned away from the dance floor and nodded. Together, we walked out of the gym and started walking towards Baby. This was going to be one awkward ride.

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As soon as we got to the bunker, I quickly got my things and made my way to my bedroom as fast as I could. As soon as I was in my bedroom, I closed my door, set my stuff down and tiredly made my way to my bed. I fell down and as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out.

---------------------------------------------(The Next Morning)

I heard someone knocking on my door, telling me to get up. Lazily, I turned the other way and pulled my blanket over my head. The knocking still continued. I groaned. “Not Now.” I grumbled, while I turned the other way and did the same thing. The knocking still continued and this time someone was yelling on the other side of the door to get me up.

I sighed and shoved off my blanket, making my way to the door. I opened the door and came face to face with Dean. He was already dressed and cleanly shaved. “Get up Pocahontas, we’re going somewhere today and you can’t say no. Oh and by the way, could you put your hair in two braids?” he asked. This made my nose scrunch up and open my bedridden eyes at him. “What?=I said sassily. He smiled at me. “You just looked so cute last night and I have a cowboy fantasy that I want to fulfill with my Indian Princess.” I sighed and shut the door. “I’m not your Indian Princess.” I said as I made my way into the bathroom to get ready.

I took a shower, taking my time because I didn’t want to even see Dean today. I got out and put on some underwear. After that, I pulled on a cute white shirt that read “best friends” with a cute puppy and kitty on the front, a shirt skater skirt, and white shoes to match. I wasn’t going to indulge Dean in his stupid cowboy fantasy, so I put my hair up into a loose bun, with strands hanging out from the sides. I grabbed my black, silky backpack with everything that I needed and then I went outside to meet Dean by Baby.

He was leaning against the shimmery impala, with his hands in his pocket. “Dean.” I called out to him. He looked up at me and smiled, showing no disappointment to my hair in a bun. He came around the passenger side, following me. Opening the door for me, but before I could get any further, he pulled me close to him. He shut the door and pressed his body closer to mine, until there was no space in-between us. His arms wrapped around my waist, locking me in. Green eyes met (e/c)(I once saw a Native with blue eyes, so you never know.) eyes. “Dean?” I questioned looking away from him and down at where his arms wrapped around my waist. “(Y/N), I wanted to say that I’m sorry for disrespecting you and your culture. I was only talking to the girl because I imagined you dressed up in her costume. To be honest, I think I have a thing for Native American girls(I feel like Dean so would!).” He said. I looked down, trying to ignore him. I really didn’t want to hear this right now. “I didn’t think that me staring at that girls outfit and imagining you in it would be disrespectful to you or your culture.” Tears starting coming down my face as he said this. He unwrapped his arms from my waist, and brought his big, rough hands up to my face and started wiping my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “What’s the matter baby?” He asked. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “You don’t get it. do you?” I said, pushing him off with as much force as I could muster. Once I finally did, I started towards the garage door that led outside. I needed to walk this off.

I heard hard boots clonking behind me. This time, Dean caught up to me and walked in front of me to keep me from escaping. I huffed and put my hands on my chest. “Tell me! “ He practically yelled. “Teach me what I don’t understand! I’ll never know if you won’t teach me!” I laughed sarcastically in his face. “You’re one to talk!” I said. He growled and put his hands up in the air. “You are so stubborn! Just tell me! Please!” he shouted at me. I sighed, looked down at the ground and then back at him. “You want to know why it’s disrespectful to me? It’s disrespectful to me because Native girls, like me don’t ever dress like that! I each culture, we have a standard of dressing modestly and keeping ourselves well groomed! Also, not all tribes wear buckskin! Not all Native Americans are the same! We all don’t dress like that!” I shook my head at him and turned away. “I’m not a whore like the movies make us out to be. “ I said softly. “I’m a girl too. A human being just like the rest of you, with feelings. I’m not here for any mans pleasure and to be objectified.” I turned around and looked back at him. “ Native Women are held with the highest regard and respect in Indigenous culture. Not what has been shown on tv.”

When he heard me say this, a look of guilt washed over his face. He came over to me and engulfed me in a hug. I let the tears flow as I was pulled closer into his chest. “Wow, (Y/N). I didn’t know. I’m so sorry for ever doing that. Because I didn’t mean to.” I pulled my head out of his chest and looked ot the side. “That’s why Sam decided to go to the pow wow. So that he could show that he respected me and show you that I was more than just what that outfit interpreted.” He sighed and rested his chin on the top of my head. “Well thank you because baby, you were so beautiful and showed me how beautiful Native American people are.” He pulled away and smiled at me. “I will never ever think about disrespecting you or your culture ever again because that’s part of what makes you you and since that is a part of you, it also makes you beautiful.” I smiled at him. “Thank you Deano.” He smiled at the nickname I gave him and started to lean in.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head, allowing him access. I felt warmth bubbling in my chest and excitement go through my body. Dean Winchester was about to kiss me.

After a moment of anticipation, I didn’t feel his lips on mine. I opened my eyes just enough to see him contemplating. “What is it?” I asked him. He laughed a little nervously and looked down, blushing a little. “Can I uh... Can I kiss you?” He asked in a shy voice. I smiled and nodded, bringing him back in for our kiss.

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A/N; So this didn’t really go as planned, but for my Indigenous girls, I hope you liked it! I just kind of chose a pow wow setting because pow wows are universal for all tribes, so don’t hate me. Um, if you want to request you can or you can just pass by, either or... Haters stay off my page and do not comment if you don’t respect the Indigenous people. I don’t condone racism or any bad themes talked about in the story. We are all children of God and he loves us. Thanks for reading!

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x native american reader #dean winchester x fem!native american reader #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x fem!native american reader #sam winchester x native american reader #dean winchester #castiel

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shorkbrian · 4 years

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INBOX

SO! I know I hoard asks. It’s a bad habit. Reasons?

I like to go look at them when I’m sad because they cheer me up.

I don’t want anyone to get annoyed that my blog is clogged up with asks, it’s a fear of mine that someone will think I'm annoying.

BUTT! My inbox is so cluttered right now, It’s hard for me to find certain requests. I saw someone else do an mass ask answering like this, and I LEARNED that if I tag it, I can look that tag up on my blog!

ALSO PSA you can also comment on my pics or message me to talk!!!!! I will never turn anyone away!!! I love you all!

ANOTHER PSA - if you want to not have to see this in the future, pls block the tag “shorkbrian answers a lot of asks”

Lets get ready to rumble!!!!!!!

These are in no particular order! Know that if you don’t see an ask you sent, it’s because I plan on writing something for it, probably like a lil Drabble cause those are my favorite (can you tell?)

Hello! My pronouns are They/Them or He/Him! I want to like give u a big ole hug for this question, You’re super sweet!

OOP Okay listen I’ve had a couple dreams with very unsavory happenings and each one is awful and so so scary. I hope your dream didn’t make you feel icky or anything dude. I Lub u, stay safe.

I am speechless. This is.... wow man. This is an amazing, positive review of my work and I feel so blessed and honored that you took the time to message me. I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading what people think of my work, and this one made me just like. I am like so blessed dude. Speechless (in the best way possible)

AHHHHH Thank you!!!! Look at those emojis!!!! SO bright and colorful and fun!!!!

As a fellow Hornee person that is dumb, I would like to say...... Why stop at a chefs kiss? are you afraid to kiss me on the mouth, homie? For future reference, I like tongue. (asdaslhjkah sorry I’m stupid but Thank you for these kind words!!!! What nice descriptors man, I’m like wilting under the praise its too much!)

Yes, reader is NOT going to have a fun time. Thanks for reading! I appreciate your support so so so much!!

Hey, listen! Requests are “closed” so I can have time to catch up without getting overwhelmed. If one or two slip in, they won’t get deleted :)

Bro, I recently talked to a friend with a similar experience. I’m so sorry for the things you’ve had to deal with, it sounds awful. The world is big and scary and VERY loud, and you are so amazing for navigating it. Bakugou would give you insane cuddles to help u feel better, remember dat okie?

Maybe! I’m getting around to things babey, it might take a hot second. But I will try!

Thank you! I try babey I try lol. I Lub u by the way thank u for msging me

I accept this wisdom. Thank you for sharing. I pray for a time when I will be able to use it.

You nailed it. I want this on my tombstone pls and thank u.

omg omg thank youuuuuuuu!!!!! Honestly, I think Izuku is still so so so shy, even when it comes to doing stuff with his darling. ugh his poor darling. Ur right tho, no one would ever believe that Izuku was doing bad stuff. But once again!!! Thank YOU for reading and taking the time to send me an ask!!!! Warms my heart

wait wait okay I LOVE LOVE LOVE Kirishima I am his BIGGEST simp and this compliment? SENT ME TO OUTER SPACE. I squealed so hard I got like liftoff and I made it out of the atmosphere. This is the BEST thing EVER Thank you SO much my heart is POURING out love Grimm I would DIE for u no cap

idk? Personally, I hate being touched so I probably would politely be like “Pls dont ahah” but I would hit him with paper airplanes with cute little notes inside.

I wish I wish with all my heart that I could turn into a small person tonight. Like, I'm crying. I am 6′0 and built like a refrigerator aint nobody able to manhandle me... *sobs in big man syndrome* I will continue to feed u tho bc it is a GIANT fantasy of mine to be manhandled and tossed around. lets goooooo

I don’t want to be a religion, can we start a cult? I’ll be the sacrifice.

bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk TOO LATE (Also thank ant the comment abc my humor! Inspires me and tbh enables me)

no U

“hey google?”

“What can I help you with today?”

“Why do I have the SWEEEEEEETEST followers ever? How did this happen? They make me blush I can’t handle it”

I have a SIMP???????? Come off anon u and I are going to talk and then passionately kiss. (not rlly but I do Lub you, thank you for the kind and gentle words)

bonk bonk bonk bonk (Also this was sent to me on a Sunday? I live in America bruv)

Pls don’t I almost peed my pants I was snorting at 2am and trying my hardest not to disturb my cat it was very hard (Repeat I almost PEED my PANST U HEATHEN)

wait stop stop u always give me such amazing comments skid I want to give u a candle made with wax and tears of love. You are so sweet. Pls never hesitate to reach out for a chat I luv u okei

BLACK HEART ANON I’m dedicating everything in my will to u, hope you know that. Okay, but seriously - I get being afraid of people. I don’t think you’re being hypocritical, I think you’re being kind and selfless and reaching out a helping hand to a loser like me. Black heart emojis low-key always make me think of you now and it fills my heart with warmth. Thank you for existing dude,

What have I said about the chefs kiss? Kiss me on the mouth u cowards. Do it.

Also this ask made me SAWFT I want to gibe u like idk a candy heart necklace to show how SOFT and Ugh demonstrate my LUB

I am glad I found YOU!!! Not everyone bothers to comment or interact or send me nice asks. They make my day man. You rock!

YYaaaayyyyaa!!! I’m cool with all the canon characters of BNHA except for Bakubro. I adore his fanon personification, but just how he acts in the show..... that aint it chief. I totally get u

TYSM!!!! Heart heart!! Aizawa has the potential to be so creepy and awful, he’s super interesting to try and write for! I’m glad you like my content, and thank you for telling me such!!!!!!!! LUB U

GRIMMM STAWWWWWWP I’m like on the verge of like melting into a PUDDLE of goopy admiration how the heck do u even know my blog ur so cool and I still can’t believe I can like.... talk to you. Ur rad dude.

BLACK HEARTTTTTTT You are never invading my privacy. Your asks are two that I hold very near and dear to my heart. I reread them over and over and they help when I’m having sucky days. Pls pls pls recognize that you’re an amazing person and you lift up my spirits and you are genuinely awesome. I love u Black Heart

I LOVE Kiri, have I mentioned? He’s my fav. And yes!!! I am VERY open to ideas!!!! Love pretty much everything and anything that comes my way!!! thank u for sending me an ask dude, means a lot :)

Sensitive anon, my dear dear friend if ur reading this know that I adore talking with u and I like hearing about ur day and You are so sweet and you make the world a better place by being in it

WE SIMP...... TOGETHER!!!!

Another beautiful baby that I always see interacting with me!!! I love you so so much and Each time your name pops up in my motifs I get so excited to see what you say!!! I’ve been holding onto this ask FOREVER because the little picture is SO CUTE and it makes me softer than melted butter man.

Okay, we’ve done it lads! I love each and every one of you!!!!!!!

#shorkbrian answers a lot of asks #love all of you #so so so much #you all make my day

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megaderping · 4 years

Text

I’ve been thinking a lot about online fandom climates but specifically my experiences within the Undertale fandom and especially the Discord and Soundcloud communities. If there is one thing I’ve noticed in all that time, it’s... just how quickly negativity can spread and make others feel outraged as well. And how little communication and respect happens in these online spaces. For instance, one of the servers I’m a part of- it used to be commonplace for people to nitpick the HELL out of AUs and other fanworks. This led to this twisted sense of superiority and jealousy. People were outraged that the works they put so much time and care into were overshadowed by other works that they felt were less deserving. I, regrettably, fell into this habit, too, and for a long time I was just so... hostile and resentful toward certain AUs and Undertale fanworks. And on one hand, I get it. There are popular Undertale fanworks that do things that are... frankly uncomfortable. Misgendering Frisk/Chara/Napstablook/etc, killing off Alphys or Papyrus for shock value, uncomfortable ships etc, etc. To a lesser extent, some just have really bad writing or characterization. I understand wanting to vent about these things in a safe space rather than swarming the content creators- but my concern is that many of these servers are actually public or semi-public, and with a large userbase that kinda feeds into circular venting that can consume channels and leave spaces with an overall toxic atmosphere. Granted, I ALSO get that not every content creator has been polite in response to fan concerns. I have seen popular creators actively mock people who politely raise issues to them. And I think that’s really in poor taste- I get being frustrated if someone comes to you saying this thing you worked on is uncomfortable/hurtful, but I think as long as they are NOT attacking, it’s important to have patience. People aren’t mind readers. Popularity doesn’t excuse folks from human decency, and I also think that fans of content creators should also just... not gang up on someone who maybe has a dissenting opinion on the thing they enjoy? Though I will say, there’s also a pretty serious problem of disrespect toward content creators, too. Consider how many people go to Youtube and reupload people’s art/animation without credit or consent. This is a HUGE problem in the Undertale AU community especially, but it doesn’t end there. People will argue a creator’s decisions. I see this a LOT with people who label their work’s Chara as nonbinary- there’s a VERY vocal part of the fanbase that INSISTS Chara must be female... which is really unpleasant (yes, I realize gender discourse goes both way and aggression is never cool but I see this particular example a LOT). Never mind the occasional entitlement.

One prominent issue I see is just... the expectation of a work to conform to popular headcanons/interpretations. When IF started releasing its dubs, people got angry because some of our casting choices were unconventional. But it’s not just a matter of voice interpretations. There are ideas within the fandom collective people just treat as Objective Canon. E.G. Gaster being lost to “the void” and forgotten, Toriel and Asgore NEEDING to get back together Post-Paci and especially in any timeline where one/both kids is saved (disregarding that Toriel has a right to keep boundaries), the assumption that every work will select certain dialogue choices that are popular when things like Places to Go exists and deserve exploration, too. But it’s not just that. Take the Undertoad AU- people have gotten SO angry and entitled over its character placements (especially Kammy as “Toriel”). They got hostile when the AU creators declared they aren’t directly using roles, and while I personally think the matter could’ve been handled more delicately toward the fans, I also sympathize in that it is an AU that has been disrespected by fans since its inception, and as a content creator, that can be so, SO exhausting. But it’s not just Utoad. Team Switched has gotten so much flak for not sticking to the original Underswap concepts. The ORIGINAL Underswap creators got so fed up with fans disregarding their comfort zones and drawing ships they did not approve of (and requested people not draw) that they up and deleted the blog and disowned the AU. I know it’s just fandom, but it’s just SO unfortunate when a content creator’s ideas aren’t respected. When a creator asks that people not create certain types of fan content or sets up certain boundaries. More than anything, people need to understand that we’re all just... people. And just ‘cause someone is popular doesn’t make them unapproachable. I know, personally, I’d MUCH rather someone come to me if they had a legitimate grievance with my work so I can understand and at the very least keep it in mind going forward- especially if it was hurtful. People make mistakes, and sometimes the social climates one grows up in means they still have a LOT of room to learn or they just might not be privy to implications behind a given idea. Or they’re just inexperienced. It’s why I HATED when the SC and Discord spheres would tear into people with less experience- folks who are still learning to create and don’t have the foundation or knowledge others have. Like, goodness. There was this one AU made by someone whose first language was NOT English, and everyone would meme the heck out of it instead of talking to the creator and giving constructive feedback. It’s one thing if a content creator refuses to take input and lashes out- at that point, it’s best to block/unfollow and move on. But it is SO important to remember that this is a fandom that is FULL of young people, and making a public mockery of their work can really discourage them from honing their skills. It’s just... cringe culture is really bad. And so is online bullying. And so often, that’s what happens. The UTSC community, for instance? Rampant with all manner of toxicity. Backlash towards anyone who dares mention the oversaturation of Megalovania styled tracks, mockery toward new composers, transphobia (good LORD I heard about some awful conduct in *that* regard), the idea that servers that have zero tolerance for edgy slurs are “too soft” (yes, the IF server won’t let you be racist/homophobic/transphobic edgelords. Human decency is kinda important). These things, of course, are just a universal part of fandom and especially public spaces. There will always be online toxicity. But I think it’s important to remember not to get too swept up on it. To step back sometimes and understand that there’s a point where you can’t force change and sometimes it’s better to block/unfollow and find something more positive to remind you of what you enjoy about fandom. Though as one final note, I think it is ABSOLUTELY important to watch out for younger fans because SO many fandom spaces have predators and abusers. When it reaches a point where someone is actively hurting others, then it is completely understandable to spread the word. But that should be saved for the people who are actually a danger and not the person giving a dissenting opinion on a character you enjoy.

#fandom #discourse #undertale discourse #undertale #dorkvents #tw: transphobia mention #i will add any other tags you guys see fit

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halictus-writer · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Seattle (Ch. 3 of 5)

Remus deleted Tinder the second the app finished downloading. He was sitting at the dining table/desk combination of his studio apartment, and, unsurprisingly it was raining just outside the window. Seattle felt so new to Remus, although it had now been months since he moved away from his previous life. It took a lot of journaling and time, but he had begun to feel like what had happened–– his ex breaking his heart an hour before his twenty-sixth birthday party–– was meant to happen. His life hadn’t been his own. It was full of so much compromise, as is necessary for a life shared by two people, but the compromises that were made did not further his growth. He was stuck in a rut in his career, he was still in his college town, and he hadn’t even written a word of the novel he told himself he would write after the next big thing––graduation, holidays, birthdays, travel–– finished.

And now, here he was. Living in a big city, alone, but doing it the way he wanted. He had a job that furthered his growth, he had supportive friends, and he had already filled entire notebooks with the ideas, character charts, and plot diagrams that would eventually become his novel. Suddenly realizing that no one was here to complain about the cold, he cracked the window open, letting some of the fresh, rain-scented air in, and shrugged on a sweater.

He was at peace with himself, and for that reason he felt he was ready to give dating another shot. He re-downloaded Tinder, chose a few random pictures of himself, and typed out the bio that Dorcas had helped him draft, cringing the entire time. He closed the app without viewing the other Tinder users within twenty-five miles and two years of his age.

As a treat for his bravery, he decided to get a margherita pizza for lunch. If he exercised self-control, he could save half for tonight’s dinner as well. It was really a matter of simple economics.

***

Remus immediately noticed that the restaurant looked a little different in the midday light, but he also immediately noticed that Sirius was not on the clock. He ordered his pizza to-go.

As he walked back to his apartment, one hand tucking the pizza close, the other brandishing an umbrella, he tried not to think about the fact that he had so far only received free–– and unsolicited–– dessert items when Sirius was working.

***

An hour later, Remus had made his first matches on Tinder. He had also accidentally “super-liked” a person named “DL Top” with a gray image as their only picture, frantically looked up how you could “un-match” with someone, read a very patronizing how-to article on basic Tinder functions, and decided to choose “block” for good measure.

One of his matches was a graduate student at the University of Washington, and Remus liked that his profile said he loved to read. They exchanged normal greeting messages, before the man asked Remus if he was “a LTR kind of guy.” Remus answered him by saying “Tolkien is an amazing writer, obviously, but I have to admit the movies were kind of long.” The man didn’t reply, and Remus figured that his opinions on the Lord of the Rings franchise must have been a deal-breaker for the other man.

Dorcas and Marlene were adamant about hearing his progress with Tinder, so he sent a group text to the two of them.

Remus: Tinder day one is a thing, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong yet

Dorcas: Yes! Proud of you

Marlene: what’s the weirdest thing that’s happened so far!!!!???

Remus: well, someone asked me what I thought about lord of the rings on the second message, does that count?

Dorcas: haha seriously? What did they even say

Remus: “so are you an LTR kinda guy or what?”

Marlene: HAHA

Dorcas explained that LTR in this context likely stood for “long-term relationship,” with intermittent texts from Marlene such as “how in the heck even” and “you are my favorite person oh my god.”

Remus decided to give Tinder a break for the rest of the day.

***

He made a good deal of progress within his first week of online dating, especially when considering that he started so low, with the misunderstanding of slang and accidental super-liking. It was now a Friday night, and he had a real-life, in-person date set for six o’clock. On Wednesday Remus had met a different match for coffee (but only after Dorcas had cross-referenced his story, friended him from a blank Facebook profile, and found pictures of him at his high school senior prom from nearly a decade ago. “You should be arrested,” Remus had said, horrified but a little grateful). Coffee had been perfectly pleasant, but both men agreed that they would rather be friends than anything more. They even friended each other on Facebook so that Remus could be added to his book club.

Meeting new friends was a welcome side-effect, but Remus was still in the market for a boyfriend. Hence, the anxious shuffling as he waited for the clock to get closer to six. Remus wished his apartment was larger, if only for the chance to have more space to clean. He had already Swiffered the floor, cleaned the bathroom mirror, and remade the bed, and it was still only a quarter past five. The cleaning was just for something to do with his hands and nerves, he knew that his date wouldn’t be seeing the inside of his apartment tonight. As per Dorcas’s prescriptions (and his own self-preservation), Remus’s first dates with strangers met online would take place completely in public.

At 5:45, a message from his upcoming date announced that he was being held a bit late at the office, and asked to reschedule for 6:30 instead of 6. Remus, wanting to be easy-going and amicable, kindly agreed, wishing him luck with his pressing work matters. Internally, however, he was frustrated that he had already taken the garbage out, since now there was absolutely nothing left to clean.

6:30 turned into 7:00, and by 7:15 Remus had taken his shoes off and was laying on the top of his neatly-made bed. The excuses changed from finishing at work, to a friend in need, to traffic, and Remus was beginning to consider just preemptively cancelling it himself.

At 7:45, the match asked if they could just skip dinner and maybe move straight into watching a movie “and cuddling” at Remus’s place instead. It was the final nail in the coffin Remus already saw, so he wasn’t even too disappointed.

Remus sent a polite but clear no, and knew that whoever this person was, he was not someone Remus would be building his life with. His stomach growled suddenly, reminding him that he still hadn’t eaten the dinner he was supposed to have hours earlier. Instead of going to all of the trouble to devise a meal at home, Remus decided that his troubles with the cancelled date warranted a very cheesy, doughy, and effortless meal. He quickly changed from his date clothes–– button down shirt, khakis, and tan buck shoes–– into a more comfortable, eating-pizza-alone-on-a-Friday-night ensemble: cozy sweatshirt, old blue jeans, and nikes.

When he got to the restaurant, he was still moping about getting blown-off from his date. He had sent a quick text to Dorcas and Marlene to let them know that his date was cancelled (otherwise they would have been checking his location religiously every fifteen minutes), but said he was doing okay since he didn’t want to interrupt their own date night plans with his sorrows.

Truthfully, Remus was pretty upset about what had happened. So far, online dating had not been a success, and Remus found himself returning to his secret fear that he wouldn’t ever successfully date again. Maybe it was because he was just too old, or perhaps he was out-of-touch, or it was simply because he had no real experience with dating since he had only ever had to go on one first date, and everything afterwards seemed to fall into place. If Lily was right, and he needed to meet someone organically for a relationship to work, he hoped it would happen soon.

Just then, his inner wallowing was interrupted by Sirius, carrying silverware and a glass of water. Somehow, Remus had forgotten that Sirius may be here, and hadn’t had time to prepare himself for the sight of the attractive waiter. His hair was swept into a loose bun, seemingly held together with a pencil.

“Hey there, how’s your Friday night going?”

Remus almost laughed at the question. Clearly, his night was not fantastic, because if it was, he would not be sitting in the booth of an Italian restaurant, alone, at 8:30 PM. He tried to shake off his own self-pity before answering. “Fine, thanks. How about you? Has it been busy tonight?” One of Remus’s favorite tactics when avoiding conversations about himself to his friends was to get them talking about themselves instead. Or, in the case of James, talking about Lily.

“It hasn’t been too busy today, or at least not since I got here at 5. Although,” he said, smiling almost conspiratorially, “I’ve had three different tables tell me ‘you too’ after I brought them their dinners.”

Remus laughed, and filed away the knowledge that Sirius remembered their inside joke from last time to the back of his mind for unpacking later. “I’ll have to see if I can get that number any higher then.”

“Oh, but you won’t be able to if I change up my script when I bring you your small margherita pizza. I’ll just say something like ‘here it is,’ no wishes of enjoyment included.” Sirius said, with faux sincerity.

“And what if I changed up my order on you?” Remus was surprised but pleased that Sirius remembered not only their jokes from last time about customers stumbling over words when presented with their food, but also the very food that Remus had ordered.

“I hope not, since I told the kitchen to start making it right after I saw you walk in.” Sirius grinned, but then suddenly looked almost bashful. “Although if you wanted something else, you still can order something else, that would be fine, I just thought, well, since it’s kind of late, we might as well give the ovens a head start?” His voice tilted up at the end as the statement turned into a question.

Remus liked this more approachable version of Sirius. He made him feel at ease. “No, you were right, I came here specifically for that margherita pizza. Thank you for starting it early for me.”

Sirius’s nervous smile turned soft.

***

The pizza was delicious, and succeeded in making Remus feel slightly better about the cancelled date. After all, he wouldn’t have been able to eat this much on the date, hindered by an abundance of good manners.

When Sirius dropped off the check, he also let Remus know that they would be closing soon. “You’re welcome to sit as long as you like, but the kitchen did just close.”

“No worries, I’m ready to head out. Thank you!” As Remus signed the receipt, a small to-go box was placed in front of him.

“Kitchen is closed, but you may want that for the road.” Sirius smiled warmly at Remus. “Have a good night!”

As Remus left the restaurant, carrying the small box, he reflected on Sirius’s parting words. He did have a good night, all things considered. Comfort food is one for addressing his emotional turmoil, but having a light conversation with a few inside jokes with another person is another thing entirely.

He also happily noted that he would get to bring the enclosed tiramisu with him to his breakfast with Dorcas and Marlene tomorrow. Pawning off the soggy dessert on them would be good for both reducing food waste and generating karma.

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kit-kat-1221 · 6 years

Text

So like what is the point?

(see above) Like for this the entire sections after the beginning section ended and where the ending started, like was there any point? O_o Because it didn’t seem like it to me. Could have easily just said. “No why should it? You have your own ideas and thoughts. Just have fun with the things you like. No one had any right to tell you that you liking fan ideas is wrong. A lot of people like seeing what their creations inspire others to do. So just have fun, find people who like the same things and try not to worry too much about it. Sound good?”

Umm Lily who cares if someone finds Josh more attractive than you? Why should you care? You have a girlfriend right? Why not respond. “Eh whatever. I already got someone so I’m not in the market anyhow. Also everyone has their own things they are attractive to. I don’t expect people to all find me attractive. *shrug*. He’s not my taste anyhow.” Like you know a civilize person..... -.-

All I can say is, Lily only you would suggest this -.- Like seriously? Next thing you’ll suggest is a massive comment deletion just being like “clearing out weeds” ....

For the Anon saying to leave Ink Rose alone.... Lily how paranoid are you!? O_O You realize there are more people in the world that dislike you than InkRose, SegaSister, Eliora (?), ThoughtBubblePony (Brittany), Josh (?), and other people from the mlp fandom right? I mean I can name quite a few people who REALLY dislike you. How are you so sure it was Ink Rose? O_O Like what bubble do you live in?

For the politics one.... Lily please tell me you are joking -.- Totalitarian = a system of government that is centralized and dictatorial and requires complete subservience to the state

Socialism: depends the country if it can work honestly. It’s really hard to implement in larger countries....

Umm no Lily you are the one providing all of this salt...

Seriously what proof of homophobia? I don’t want people shipping me with a girl but that doesn’t make me homophobic! Hell any of my female OCs with girls. I honestly am not all that into girl x girl. Some of it is really cute Sailor Uranus x Sailor Neptune, Kureha x Ginko, Chiho x Uzume (it’s very pure even with age difference), not official but heavily implied Mimori Togo x Yuna Yuuki.

Honestly he doesn’t necessarily have to fly out there. Also Lily wouldn’t he need your address for him to mail it to you? Or a business email? Oh wait you don’t have those -.-

Why do you guys post these comments on Lily’s tumblr instead of Josh’s you know so he can see them? Lily blocked him so he can’t go on her tumblr unless he makes another account....

One.... seriously like you have any room to talk with “Reals over Feels” you’re acting like a child Lily....

Really? Because from what I understood Lizzy found out about you because you put her on your “Good Stuff” thing and they you two eventually hooked up. Since when did Josh enter the equation -.-

Ummm anon seriously? And Lily WTF is wrong with you! He is NOT endorsing a freaking pedophile you asshat!

Hideki-Nishi seriously? I seriously can’t tell if you are a fan of both Lily and Josh or what. Also what was the point of your comment? No seriously what was it? Cuz it seems like something you should say to JOSH not LILY. Alaso Lily could we get screenshots? Because you know you have your subscriber count unlisted for crying out loud. You say you lost 2,000 subscribers, how would that be Josh’s fault? Wouldn’t that be your fault for not engaging your viewers or explaining your side of the story appropriately? You can’t blame Josh for you loosing subscribers unless you have proof that he like deleted subs from you o_O

Why should he be embarrassed for finally standing up to the woman who bullied and harassed him and possibly emotionally abused him?

Also backfiring? Explain....

.... Okay yes he should have gotten someone who knows law to help him. But seriously Lily. We can find archives and archives of your harassment from over the years. Also what do you have better to do? I know Josh has school but don’t you have a full time job? Oh wait YouTube is your full time job.... if it’s not then what IS your job exactly? -___-

Umm are you saying watching a brain dead puppy pee itself is funny? or sad? because honestly it’s hard to tell with you. Also if you felt any pity for Josh why not just leave him alone instead of continuing this stupid crusade at mudslinging Josh?

Anon did you ever think he just doesn’t know a lawyer? Or rather one that is good enough to help him with cyberstalking/bulllying/harassment who would be willing to do this as a international affair because it is USA vs Canada? Laws differ between countries you know. -.-

Of recent videos... honestly who would look there? -.- No seriously who would look there if you never use to do it Miss Lily Orchard. I sure as heck wouldn’t think about looking there...

Found it after she wrote:

Wanna send me fanart, undying pledges of worship or ransom notes? Send it here - [email protected]

Really I would like to give Lizzy the benefit of the doubt anyhow because she’s obviously being manipulated into believing her darling is innocent. (Wow it’s almost like how Toon manipulated his friends into thinking he was innocent. But Lily is obviously too kind and nice to do that *there is some sarcasm here somewhere*) But seriously Lizzy doesn’t sound kind. She is coming off as condescending . This is what an overly religious person does to make themselves seem faultless. No joke.

Lily did you ever go to college -.- ? No? Then you’d know it’s a C- and also in order to practice law here in the states you have to pass a state certification exam. Oh wait you’re from Canada! I don’t know how law school works there please tell me the certification standards? -.-

*slow clap* Wow Lily look at you talking about yourself and trying to make it seem like Josh is the one who lives in an Echo Chamber. Where are your criticisms then hmm? You delete them that’s right! So you can never be wrong! Wow it’s almost like you’re the one runinng a smear campaign with the endless amounts of Community posts that are essentially telling your loyal cult followers to “Go spam his comments sections with dislikes and slander”

Umm anon how is he dragging the victims in? This is his personal statement saying “Lily I’ve have enough of this. I’ve ignored this for too long. YOU NEED TO STOP!” It has nothing to do with the victims. =__=

Okay last one. Seriously Lily? A non-profit organization where people can learn about sexual predators that works with the Centers for Missing and Exploited Children is sketchy.... WTF Well do you know of a better one? No? Umm then can you talk? Also a quick google search like that’s legitimate! That wouldn’t even hold up in class in a college/university as sufficient evidence. Seriously girl who put bleach in your brain

And to this Anon... what message of them still needing Toon? Prerecorded videos, that would be very difficult to either voice over, text to chat, or cut out? Having him out of all their newer projects? having older videos still up because of story and possibly to review his behavior so they can spot manipulative people like Toon? Also besides pedophilia he had a lot of other issues which none of you guys and girls seem to remember right away: sexual harassment, black mailing, emotional manipulation, harassment, etc. don’t forget about all of these too!

@lily-peet you think Josh’s fans are crazy? Look at your own. They say more bull than anyone I have ever seen. I question their moral intelligence, and I question your emotional intelligence too.

#screenshots #of #lily #lily orchard #lily-peet #the moron is still around #josh needs a break #Lily aren't you the lazy one #I dont think having victims have to pay to get on your discord as charitable #seriously you have to pay 1 dollar on patreon to be part of her discord #have to pay higher to be part of specific groups too #last time I checked charity meant you do it without expecting compensation #cant exactly say you are a saint for helping these victims if they have to pay you #last I checked I can pay for an actual therapist who actually would have to care about me

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purrtlepuff · 6 years

Text

It’s amazing how your mental health can go downhill so fast without a warning. It wasn’t like a “oh I lost my shoe now I’m anxious about where I put it” kind of occurrence, but a multiple bad things this week that happened that snowballed into an avalanche that crashed into and buried me last night.

It started Tuesday evening, though it was rather minor. It was flurrying all day. Nothing we northerners couldn’t handle, but it still made the roads slippy. My car does not do well in anything but sunny... not an exaggeration (but i refuse to get a new car because I love the dumb toaster of a thing ok).

So my dad picked me up on his way home from work to go to their house for supper with the promise of bringing me home. No big deal; he’s done it before.

Problem was, the snow got a little worse. When he asked if I still wanted to go home, I said yes. My mom voiced how dumb it was and that I should just stay there instead of making my dad drive out to my house. However, my dad’s from New York, so 2 inches of snow was no big deal to him.

We got up to my house without any problems. The roads weren’t great, but they weren’t horrid. The scenery was beautiful! Anyway, I asked him to call me when he got home, and he agreed. So I’m waiting by the phone, because all I can think about is my mom’s words about my dad getting into an accident. And I’m waiting. And I know it should only take 15-20 minutes driving slow. Still no call after 30 minutes.

I messaged my sister nearly in tears and hoping he was home. Turns out he got home safely and went for a shower, forgetting to call. No big deal, crisis averted. I still didn’t sleep much that night, because my brain was still set in panic mode.

The next day, the roads are horrible. It was colder than before, and the wind kept blowing everything I just shoveled back onto my driveway (gotta dab on that wind I guess).

Anyway, my boss called me up at 9:30 and asked if I could be in to work in an hour. At this point, I still had a lot of driveway to go and unknown road conditions. Reluctantly, I agreed, because I knew she wouldn’t call me unless she needed me.

So I’m anger shoveling my driveway, because I’m tired and I really don’t want to drive on these roads, especially because I don’t want to face my mom when she finds out I agreed. It did wonders, because I nearly cleared 4 inches of deep snow off my 100 foot driveway in about 30 minutes solo. (i’m gonna be so good at hugging!). And guess what? My boss calls me up and says I’m no longer needed, and we have a good laugh about how she got me to get up and exercise.

Well, I only have a little more to shovel, so I figure I’ll stay outside and finish it. Maybe do my aunt’s driveway too, because now I’m more frustrated than mad and need something to do.

And as I’m shoveling, my Aunt calls out her window that my mom was trying to get a hold of me. I politely thanked her and went back in my house. You’d think I’d been missing for 3 days with the way my mom handled it. (she could’ve just called my cell like my boss but never did oh well) And again, she indirectly reminded me why I have anxiety in the first place.

Welp, now my day’s off to a really bad start, I’m tired, I have nothing to do, and I just want today to be over already. I should’ve napped, but I couldn’t.

There was also some drama in groups I’m involved in. I won’t tell you who, but there were some nasty words being thrown about. Already in a bad mood, I didn’t feel safe enough voicing my usual mediator opinions. So I just... left it be.

It got worse and worse, and I felt all I could do was watch. I didn’t want to take any unnecessary pent up feelings out on the group. That’s not fair to them. So I put the group on mute and tried to distract myself with other friends.

And later that night, that’s when Mark’s insanity came through. Now, I had a good time with it at first. I thought it was a weird little thing to get the community going. A few of my friends even joined in on it and sent me the messages (and I got to meet someone off anon for the first time <3) I even set up a sort of refugee place for people to go to, as like a joke, so they’d feel safe from the demons.

However a few of my friends... they didn’t take it as a joke. In fact, it actually scared them. I was rather sympathetic and inviting, or at least I hoped so, and reassured them it was all just a game and it will blow over soon.

I was worried for them, but at least I actually got sleep.

Then yesterday, something happened that I saw coming. One of our families was going through a divorce... a really nasty one... with a really nasty parent. I don’t want to overshare, but I was given instructions on what to do if the parent ever came in for their kids. I mean, it’s not unusual to have court orders on which parent can and can’t have a child on a specific day, but this one... this one actually scared me.

It still scares me.

Anyway, I hoped to anyone up above that my social media sites were under control. I needed that PMA so bad. However, I was unsuprised to find it got worse... much worse. I was actually disgusted worse. My whole dash was nothing but yelling, accusations, and just plain meanness. Nothing I wanted to see.

I still thank the anon that sent the positivity message. You were a hero last night.

However, soon after I posted my discontent with the fandom, I got a chilling anon message. I don’t think they were part of the cult, because they were on anon, but it set me over the edge.

I blocked and deleted the message. I turned off asks, and still have them off because I’m too afraid to turn them back on, and logged off for the night. I barricaded myself in my house, locking even my basement door and propping chairs against them, hid keys, and slept with a knife beside my bed.

I didn’t sleep at all. I kept waking up at every little noise in my house. I’ve never been that afraid in my life. And I’m sure it was just someone being an asshole, but knowing that information about me... what if they knew more? What if they knew where I worked? What if they showed up at my school? Would they do worse? What if they couldn’t get at me and instead went after my neighbors? My thoughts just kept getting worse and worse.

Today... today was one of the most exhausting yet uplifiting days I think I’ve had in my life. I mean, I’ve always been thankful to have my job, but today I was godawful thankful to have my job. It was like an 8 hour therapy session. I’m so thankful and lucky to do what I do and work with the people I work with.

Edit: A minor note on this above part... I feel rather stupid now. Apparently a friend sent me an anon message asking about the event, and they used my first name by accident instead of my middle name. That’s what freaked me out. |D

It was worded like “What the fuck’s up with this Mark stuff [my real name]” and I just... |D It fried my brain. We cleared the air about it now, thankfully, but it still bugs me I reacted this way. All because I read a post about someone getting doxxed (which is FLIPPING FAKE THANKS FOR SENDING ME OVER THE EDGE FOR NO REASON YA JERK)

I’m still not at my 100%. I still feel like I’m just existing, and that’s it. I’m hoping to feel better tomorrow, because it’s the weekend.

Thank you so much for your time. I really do appreciate you skimming over this and taking interest in me. I know it was just a huge dump of angst, but it honestly made me feel a little better. Heck, usually I do this and never post them.

Just thank you, every one of you, for being here for me. It means a lot. <3

-Cat

#cat vents #i rarely post these #but I withdrew rather awkwardly last night which is unlike me #and I didn't want anyone to worry #so if you're worried about me this one's for you #i will let you know when I turn asks back on

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earpdearp · 7 years

Text

just the worst™

Wherein Waverly loses her cool when Shorty’s is sold and makes an irrationally rational decision for once. Nicole is mostly confused/caught in the cross-fire.

Borrows conversations from mid-1x09 as a canon-adjacent catalyst to bridge my series “just friends” and “not just friends” together.

Dedicated to user @korderoo for giving me the idea. The straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were.

Also on AO3. Approximately 5,518 words.

Other WayHaught “just friends” fics in this series: just another tuesday | just coffee | just blowing off steam | just the beginning

He showed up at Shorty’s wearing an ill-fitting gray suit with a red tie, a sheaf of paperwork in one hand and briefcase in the other. Normally, Waverly Earp would pay a guy like that little mind. But this gentleman didn’t come into Shorty’s for a drink: he came asking after Gus MacCready.

That set off warning bells for Waverly.

This wasn’t the first time Waverly had seen him. In fact, he’d returned several times in the past few weeks. A nagging worry had started to fester at the back of Waverly’s mind.

The next red flag was how attentive Gus had been to what he had to say. Hours a day were spent sifting through documentation, only to return with more papers a few days later. They typically pored over his paperwork on the upper level table, usually just out of earshot at the bar.

What Waverly did manage to overhear, especially today, set her heart racing. And not in a good way.

“…is this what we agreed on?” Aunt Gus asked, eyes narrowing at the young man.

“To the letter,” he said with a lopsided grin.

Topping off the beer she’d been pouring for Pete, Waverly shot the customer a hurried smile. “There you go,” she muttered and started to turn away to resume her eavesdropping.

“I heard about you and Champ, by the way,” Pete said shyly, sweeping off the brim of his tan flat cap and running fingers over a short crop of hair.

Uh huh, she thought disinterestedly. Waverly affixed a kind smile to her cheeks but avoided eye contact with Pete. She strained to hear what Gus and That Guy were saying, but she could only make out flipping pages and a clicking pen.

“He never treated you right, Waverly,” Pete said. She waved off the comment, mostly because it wasn’t entirely true. But the thought agitated her more than she already was.

Champ wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Or a bad guy. He’s just… not what I’m looking for. Or what I need.

Pete continued, a smile turning the edges of his scruffy cheeks. “I was thinking, you know, any man in Purgatory would be lucky to have you…”

Inwardly groaning, Waverly stopped herself short of scoffing, “But would I be lucky to have them?”

Rolling his thumbs around that mug of beer, Pete’s eyes didn’t quite meeting Waverly’s. “And I was also thinking that—“

Oh God. No no no no no no no.

Eyes widening, Waverly leapt in to cut off his train of thought. “—that you should find a gal like me, only taller, right? So she can actually get up in that custom-lifted, tricked-out pickup of yours?” She nodded at him significantly, praying Pete would get the hint.

Thankfully, Pete took the out rather than the impending bruise to his ego. His grin was a little pained, but he agreed, “Uh, yea. Yea, exactly.” Pausing for a beat, Pete then asked, “…is Wynonna… still around?”

Waverly made an exhale-sound in disgust and shot him a withering glare. She shooed him away from the counter with her bar towel, where he joined his brother at the pool table. There was a lull before the boys started chuckling among themselves and threw looks behind them at Waverly. She glared daggers back and made a swiping motion across her throat while smugly mouthing, “Ha ha you’re cut off.” That shut them up with an expletive before they racked a new game of pool.

Ugh. Men are all the same.

Sighing, Waverly scrubbed at a pair of clean mugs from the dishwasher below the bar. She went back to staring despondently at Gus near the front of the saloon. The older woman was still flipping through a stack of papers, hand at her chin, eyes probing every line of print. A pen rolled on her knuckles, poised and ready.

Just as that pen clicked one final time, Waverly straightened and announced, “I’m gonna take my break now!”

Her aunt only nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes focused on the documents in front of her.

That little brush-off grated on Waverly. She resisted the urge to huff as she gathered up her blue coat and brown purse to head for the door. A chill Purgatory wind stung Waverly’s cheeks as she stepped outside.

But Waverly just couldn’t stay and watch. She knew what was coming. The thing Waverly had been low-key dreading for weeks had arrived, complete with that rumpled gray suit and red tie.

Today was the day: Gus was selling Shorty’s.

“What the frick is going on today?” Waverly asked no one in particular as she stalked down the street, clutching her elbows to brace against the cold.

This whole day had felt off since she’d rolled out of bed this morning.

Even though there had been a lull in BBD cases lately, Wynonna was a scarce sight at the Homestead. So was Doc. Dolls was… Dolls.

And Nicole…

Waverly scowled as she checked her phone. No new SnapChats or text messages. Same as yesterday.

Things were weird with Nicole since Waverly had sent that text after watching the sunrise. It was like they forgot how to be friends.

It was all Waverly’s fault, too. She’d messed things up… crossed the line.

[“It was worth the trip”]

[“So are you”] …stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

Plus, the last time they’d bumped into each other outside the station had been a disaster. First they’d actually physically bumped into each other (via hard shoulder-check), then it was a race to see who could apologize first, then a lot of shy ground-kicking and “So…”

Pulling the brim down on her Stetson slightly, Nicole had asked, “So… how’s Wynonna?”

“She’s… Wynonna,” Waverly had replied simply. “So—uh—how’s… Calamity Jane?”

“She’s good.”

“Good.”

(Un)fortunately, Lonnie had knocked on the window to summon Nicole inside, so the women managed to part ways with just awkward smiles. And since then, Waverly had started about a dozen texts but deleted every single one. Which dragged out the weirdness further.

Ugh.

What am I gonna do? How do I fix this? How do I make things go back to normal again?

…what the heck would Normal even be?

As she rounded the street corner, Waverly halted dead in her tracks. Because at the next block over, Waverly spotted a familiar, uniformed profile complete with a white Stetson.

Oh you’ve got to be frickin’ kidding me.

Bathed in the flashing lights of her police cruiser, Officer Nicole Haught was indeed standing at the corner. She had her metal clipboard in hand and appeared to be giving a ticket to two college-age blonde girls.

As Waverly approached, she tried to blend in with some storefront awnings. The diner was just up the street and if Waverly could just get some food in her belly, maybe she could come up with a plan to—

“Hey! Wave!”

Frick.

Just on the other side of the street now, Nicole gave a broad smile and a gloved wave. Her motorists had briefly returned to their car to dig out purses and insurance information.

Sighing in resignation as she crossed the street, Waverly managed to step in a freezing puddle. She swore under her breath as the icy water seeped through a sock, soaking her toes. The low-key frustration at the base of her skull started to throb.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Nicole grimaced in empathy when she heard the splash. “Oh shoot, you okay? Sorry, I just wanted to say hey. I—I haven’t seen you in awhile, so…” She trailed off, her dimpled smile soft and sweet.

“Yea, it’s fine,” Waverly said, a little more sharply than she intended. When Nicole shrank back, Waverly gave a tight smile. “Sorry. Today just—today just sucks.” She stamped on her damp foot a little, feeling her sock bunch between her toes uncomfortably.

Ugh.

Tilting her head in sympathy, Nicole started, “I’m sorry to hear that. I tried texting you, but I wasn’t sure if—“

“Yea, me too,” Waverly rushed in with a bashful smile. “I keep just—and then just don’t know what to—“

A sing-sing voice interrupted the woman. “Yoohoo! Officer… Hoht?”

Both women turned at the same time to see the pair of blondes bounding back from their SUV, red passports in hand. They were practicing rolling Nicole’s unfamiliar last name in a foreign tongue. “Europeiska Unionen Sverige” was stamped in gold lettering on those red booklets.

Swedish?

“It’s Haught, ma’am,” Nicole corrected politely. She opened her hand to accept the pair of passports.

“Haaaaw-tuh,” one enunciated slowly. The other giggled, long eyelashes batting over heavily eye-shadowed blue eyes.

Nicole muttered under her breath just loud enough for Waverly to hear, “…Close enough.” She shot Waverly a wink as she continued writing on her metal clipboard.

Left Blonde twirled her scarf around her finger. “Will this be taking long time, Officer Hawwwt? We were wanting to see the Mount Rushmore today.”

Waverly chimed in with a wincing smile. “You’re off by a few hundred miles and a couple states.” She pointed to the southeast. “You want I-90. You’re on I-80.”

An argument started in Swedish, both women angrily slapping at each other’s elbows and shoulders for a few seconds. They also pulled phones from pockets to consult their maps. Waverly and Nicole just exchanged confused (but bemused) glances.

The Right Blonde then shushed the Left and gave a shy smile to Nicole. “You give us directions, maybe? Put us on right road?”

“Uh, sure…” Nicole replied, baffled but cordial. “After we discuss that illegal left turn y’all made. And you were going 22 miles above the posted speed limit.” She waved the ticket pad at them before returning Right Blonde’s passport.

“Is just mistake. Not happen again,” Left Blonde promised.

Right Blonde jumped in, her hand brushing down the elbow of Nicole’s coat (which Nicole pulled away from). “You doing things later, Officer Hawwwt? You ever see the Mount Rushmore? Want to be joining us?” Her tone was low, enticing, flirty. Left Blonde nodded in emphatic agreement.

Ughhh. They… are the worst.

Feeling like she was in the way, Waverly started to take a few cautious steps back. Her cold foot made a squishing sound, which turned Nicole’s head. The woman gave Waverly a panicked frown, but for just a second Waverly thought she saw a fond uptilt to Nicole’s lips. Which sent a surge of something through Waverly’s chest, briefly overriding that throbbing frustration.

Right at that moment, the radio on Nicole’s shoulder sounded off with a crackle of static. [“Haught, do you copy?”] A male voice.

The Velcro made a soft ripping sound as Nicole pulled the radio to her mouth and clicked the call button. “This is Haught finishing an 11-95 on Cooper. Go ahead.” She slapped the radio back on her shoulder and continued writing on her ticket pad.

The male dispatcher continued. [“Haught, return to the station when you finish that 11-95.”]

Scowling, Nicole leaned into her radio. “Copy that. …is something wrong?”

[“Nedley wants your ass on desk duty.”] The dispatcher sounded apologetic. [“Something about how you’re the only one who gets shit done around here.”] There was brief, muffled outrage/agreement on the other end of the radio.

“Again?!“ Nicole grumbled under her breath before clicking the button one last time. “10-4, on my way. Haught out.”

The two Swedish women groaned, first at being denied an “escort” and second at the ticket Nicole handed back along with the remaining passport. They attempted to salvage their disappointment by taking selfies with “a real police” and asking for Nicole’s number, which the woman declined (after shooting another panicked look at Waverly).

This whole exchange was… annoying to Waverly. And not just because she seemed invisible. Backing away slowly the way she came, Waverly smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m keeping you from doing your job. I should—I’ll just go.” She resisted the urge to add an unnecessarily snarky “Have fun” under her breath.

Nicole’s frown was apologetic. “Waverly…” She looked like she wanted to say more.

But Waverly had already turned and ran back across the street. Giving up on the diner, Waverly stomped back to Shorty’s (though she took the long way back, weaving through alleys). At least the walk might give her a chance to maybe clear her head. Minus the fact her boots squished every other step.

She didn’t quite know why she was so irritated, but Waverly’s blood was downright boiling as she strode through “downtown” Purgatory. Running into Nicole used to be such a lovely surprise. But that…

…That was such a stupid thing to be mad about. And what was there even to be mad about? Nothing even happened.

Ugh.

Maybe because Nicole was working and Waverly felt like she was in the way? But Nicole had called her over. If she was such a bother, why would Nicole go out of her way to talk to her?

She was missing something and that angered Waverly even more. It felt obvious but just out of reach. She wanted to talk to someone about it.

But Wynonna wasn’t around and… the only other person she wanted to talk to was… Nicole.

Ugh… How do I fix this? How do I make things go back to normal again?

…what would normal even be for us?

…Us…

Gus was shaking hands with the Gray Suit when Waverly returned to Shorty’s. File folders slapped closed, keys were waved about, and polite laughter drifted through the saloon.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. MacCready,” the man said before leaving. His eyes gave a worried sweep of the bar but when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he smiled in relief. Briefcase snapping shut, Gray Suit held the case to his chest protectively as he ventured out those heavy double doors.

Waverly stalked over to Gus. “So you just did it? You just went ahead and sold it,” she said accusingly.

Her Aunt’s gaze was hard. “Decisions had to be made.” Gus flipped back through her paperwork, blue pen bouncing between index and middle fingers. “I know you don’t believe me, but you were not born to be a Goddamn small-town waitress.”

That softened Waverly some. “Yea, I believe you...” Resentment and worry still burned in the back of her mind. She latched on to her outrage. “But I have, like, three shirts that say Shorty’s.”

It didn’t come out quite as biting as Waverly had hoped.

Gus smirked back. “Honey, it’s in the agreement: Shorty’s will never get torn down. You can work here in as many shirts as you want for as long as you want.” Her dark eyes flicked over Waverly in a quick once over, a mixture of warmth and disapproval.

Waverly tried to interject. “That’s not the point!”

“Things change, kid. I never thought I’d be the one makin’ this decision, but I made it all the same.” Gus tapped the heavy file folder on the edge of the counter to evenly align the batch of papers. “It’s past time I moved on from this town. Enjoy my retirement.” Her slanted smile was sad with apology. “I got an offer on the farm, too. From a nice family from Shelby.”

Sputtering, Waverly slammed her palms on the counter. “What?! You’re—you’re leaving?! And you didn’t—why didn’t—I didn’t know!” She could feel her pulse quicken, blood pounding in her ears.

“Cuz I didn’t want you to fret, Waverly. My sister’s got a spare room since her boy went away to college. It’s time I reconnect with my old life. Just like you’re doing with Wynonna,” she said with a significant nod. “Not all change is bad, honey. It just is. And it’s up to you to make the most of it.”

Waverly flopped her head down on the counter, long hair covering her face. The wood counter was cool on her forehead as she groaned into the surface. “I can’t believe this. This is the frickin’ worst.” She looked up through her curtain of brown strands. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” Waverly said, her voice small as her breath puffed against those hairs.

Her Aunt smiled and reached over. A soft, wrinkled hand parted the hair over Waverly’s forehead so her face was visible again. Gus stroked her hair for another second before laying the file folder back on the bar (the air tickling Waverly’s cheek in its wake).

“You too, kid. But when you decide you’re ready to unstick those wings of yours…” Gus trailed off as she reached into her back pocket. Unfolding a small crisp paper, she offered it to Waverly. “…Don’t cash it for a week or so.”

Lifting her head, Waverly took the thin paper and examined it before she asked, “What’s this?”

It was a check. And there were… a lot of zeroes at the end of that check.

What. The. Frick.

Leaning over the end of the bar, Gus patted Waverly’s elbow with a smile. “It’s freedom, honey!” She gave the check a joyful flick and shook her head in amusement. “You’ve been doing what others want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is you want.”

It should have been touching. Wonderful. Liberating.

But instead Waverly felt… empty. Lost. Alone.

She held in her hands the answer to so many questions… except she couldn’t remember what the question was that this was an answer to. She felt a heat in her eyes.

“…which is what?” Waverly retorted despondently.

A soft, sage smile. “Live your life,” Gus said. “Remember: some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws at us. About what we want.” She paused to give Waverly a lingering look before winking. “Who we want.”

That caught in Waverly’s throat. She could only stare back, confused.

“You’ve always been an honest kid.” Patting her elbow again, Gus leaned in drop a kiss on Waverly’s cheek. “Don’t stop now.”

Gus scooped up her file of papers and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Waverly alone at the bar holding a small fortune in her hands (and more questions than answers).

The Purgatory Reservoir stretched out before Waverly, the water’s gentle ripples reflecting a cloudy afternoon sky. With a line of snowy Jeep tracks leading to her hidden alcove, Waverly’s Spot was just as quiet as always. Sipping on her second (third?) espresso, Waverly licked her lips against the cinnamon flavoring and stared out at the horizon.

She’d gone home to change out of her Shorty’s getup, and not just for a dry pair of socks. Even in her favorite white wool sweater with a coffee in hand, Waverly still felt cold. There was nervous energy in her chest that sent little shivers through her shoulders and collarbone.

What the frick is going on today??

Everything felt so… empty. This place, Waverly’s safe place against everything crazy with Purgatory… it didn’t seem so magical. The Reservoir was just a dingy, fake lake chiseled out of rock.

The last time she’d been here, she’d brought Nicole. It had been… something. Something bigger. Now it was back to being small and lonely.

Waverly folded and unfolded that check. The same line of zeroes was still there. A small fortune wrapped up in a such a small piece of paper.

It was funny: when Wynonna had first showed up, she offered to hock Peacemaker so the Earp sisters could go abroad and leave Purgatory behind for good. Now, Waverly had the money to do that twice over.

But things were different from then in so many ways. Wynonna had embraced being the Heir. Breaking the Earp Curse didn’t seem like so lofty a pipedream, but an actual possibility. And Waverly… she was helping. All those years poured into research and history and language was finally getting put to use.

The nervous energy in Waverly’s chest dredged up an old hurt for a moment and she let it roll through her.

Wynonna. Sweet, older sister. The protective one. The strong one. …And the screw-up who’d left Waverly behind.

Waverly, who stayed. Waverly, who dedicated her life to breaking the Earp Curse. Waverly… who couldn’t break the Goddamn curse.

And Wynonna, who just waltzed back into town on raw, God-given talent and the only one who knew where Peacemaker had been hidden. It had hurt to be left out, to be the only one who took things seriously, to yet again be Not Enough as an Earp.

That stupid Revenant hadn’t been wrong: Waverly was envious—jealous—of Wynonna. And while she was proud that her sister was finally taking it all seriously finally, a small part of Waverly was still resentful. It was a slow burn of forgiveness that was rooted in long-time little sister spite. But even Waverly could admit her big sister had grown into the role and—through trial by fire and then some—was equal to the task.

So, they couldn’t just up and leave Purgatory. Not after they’d worked so hard and come together as a team. As a family.

“It’s freedom, honey!” Gus has said.

Why didn’t it feel like freedom?

Waverly could go for a Master’s degree at a decent university. Or go to Japan or the ocean or at the very least just leave Purgatory for the first time in her life. Anything she ever wanted, she could go do. Right now, if she wanted.

But… why didn’t any of those things sound good?

Slouching back into her seat with an annoyed sigh, Waverly took a deep sip of her coffee. She played with the ends of her scarf, her gaze drifting back to the passenger seat.

Nicole.

The image of the woman watching the sunrise with such awe and wonder was burned into Waverly’s memory. Her red hair tousled from sleep, bundled in Waverly’s blanket, hands politely folded around the coffee that Waverly had carefully made for her at four in the morning.

For some reason, Nicole tended to linger in Waverly’s head. For minutes, hours, days after they spent time together. They’d talked for less than a minute on the street earlier, yet Waverly still remembered the earrings she’d been wearing (round gold studs) and the smell of vanilla.

That warm flutter around Waverly’s shoulders calmed for a moment, until the voice of those two Swedish girls returned in her mind. Then a scowl darkened Waverly’s face, the agitation quickening her blood.

She resented those women’s confidence and brashness. They didn’t care what anyone thought. Just aimlessly wandered around the Northwest in an SUV without a care in the world. No plan, no nothing. They just went out and did whatever they wanted. Including…

“You doing things later, Officer Hawwwt? Want to be joining us?”

They just—they just asked. They didn’t need to go to JD’s and plan out what they were gonna say. They didn’t need days of psyching themselves up to plan a stupid sunrise (probably). But there it was: envy. Envy for a whole wide world of people doing things Waverly couldn’t/wouldn’t/didn’t/hadn’t.

Waverly’s thumb wandered to her own phone, her message history with Nicole depressingly quiet.

It was a shitty thing to be resentful about, she realized. Because she was basically mad at herself for not taking action. She’d always just let things happen to her. Let Champ Hardy ask her out. Let Wynonna take charge of the Curse. Let herself be a Goddamn small-town waitress instead of—what?

“You’ve been doing what others want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is you want.”

“…which is what?”

“Live your life.”

Okay, Waverly thought with a long, slow breath. She tried to center herself like she did in yoga. Focused on breathing, let the outside world fade away, just her and the next breath.

What do I want? If I could want anything? Right here and now?

A bunch of thoughts trickled in. Glimpses of things she’d seen on YouTube or read about, secret passages of her diary… Swimming in the ocean or the wind on her face with the world below.

Pretty scary. But… lacking somehow now.

Maybe because… she could do those whenever she wanted? There was no urgency, no risk attached anymore. A good plan would take care of any of those little bucket-list things (now that she had the money).

Okay. What else?

“Remember: some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws at us. About what we want. Who we want.”

Her fingers felt around in her purse and found a small piece of paper. Not the check Aunt Gus had given her. This paper was thicker, smaller, lined with creases where it had been folded and unfolded over and over again. The pad of her index finger traced the embossing and Waverly didn’t even need to open her eyes it to know what it said.

“Officer Nicole Haught, Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Waverly let it out slowly. That jangling feeling in her chest started again, pushing her to stop hiding and put into words this tightly coiled anxiety she’d been holding on to for so long.

That tight feeling had come so close to being free, weeks ago. On that afternoon when Waverly had run into Nicole on the street.

“I kind of just discovered it,” Waverly had said, out loud, finally. The courage to put to words had been on the tip of her tongue, a short lifetime of restrained almosts laid bare. Except it had gone horribly wrong, dismissed by a distracted Nicole. The woman had apologized later, but not before Waverly had boxed that thought back up again and put it back on the shelf. To be dealt with later.

With another shaky inhale, Waverly pulled that thought close again, hugged it to her. And when she exhaled, she finally—finally—let it go.

Waverly liked Nicole. A lot. A lot, a lot.

Not as friends.

“Friends” don’t wonder what the other one is doing all hours of the day (and night).

“Friends” don’t get goosebumps when the other touches them.

“Friends” don’t wish the other would look at her the way Nicole did, like she saw inside her (and what’s more: liked what she saw).

She wanted Nicole. Wanted her, wanted her.

She wanted to know the things that made Nicole laugh—that sweet, deep, melodic laugh.

She wanted to know what Nicole was thinking when she chewed her cheek or licked her lips that certain way.

She wanted to know what Nicole felt like. Smelled like. Tasted like.

Eyes shooting open, Waverly let out another long breath. That feeling in her chest… it loosened. Like she was lighter. Relieved, even.

Okay.

She needed talk to Nicole. Make a plan. Tell her—tell her Waverly liked her. And maybe… they could start over?

…But what if she said no?

Nicole had already gotten hurt—almost died—before. If she stuck around, Nicole could get hurt again, maybe worse. The Earp Curse was kind of a big secret to keep/problem to deal with. Maybe… maybe it’s better if Waverly didn’t say anything?

“You’ve always been an honest kid.”

She knew she was looking for an excuse to bail. She scowled at herself, at how scared she was. How close she was to chickening out already.

Oh God what if Nicole said no?

…Oh God what if Nicole said yes?

That was the real question she was afraid of. If it was a No, she could just put that thought back on its shelf. Easy. Simple. Safe. Waverly knew what that life was like (since she was basically living it right now, so no surprises there).

But a Yes… that was Big. All those exciting Firsts wrapped in all those potential mistakes. All Waverly’s Earp baggage laid bare along with all of Nicole’s. And all that terrifying Unknown made less scary knowing there was someone to share it all with.

Shifting her Jeep into reverse, Waverly made a two-point turn before heading back up the trail back to Purgatory. She downed the rest of her coffee in one big swallow, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel.

Okay. What’s the plan?

Okay. First go to the station and find Nicole. Obviously.

What if she’s not there? Do I text her? Meet her somewhere?

Waverly had to chew her cheek a moment before remembering: Nicole is on desk duty. She should be at the station.

Okay. What about anyone else?

She glanced the clock on her dashboard: 4:15 PM.

Okay. Nedley should be at Shorty’s and if Nicole is on desk, that puts Lonnie out on patrol. And no Dolls or Wynonna at BBD to bug me.

Okay. Nicole should be alone at the station. Then what?

“Live your life.”

Striding up those steps, Waverly headed straight for the Sheriff’s Department on pure instinct. Her heart was hammering in her throat. And her plan was total shit.

Waverly still hadn’t thought of something good to say other than just blurting out “I like you, Nicole” in the middle of the station. She was breathing through her nose, dangling earrings tickling Waverly’s cheeks from her fast gait. She was nervous and agitated from all that damn espresso, too. It was hard to keep a thought still in her head.

When she reached a familiar hallway, Waverly hung back just outside the station. She saw the back of an older woman at the police desk. Dolores, Judge Cryderman’s secretary, was doing some admin work. Waverly waited for the woman to leave before approaching.

Eyes skimming the station, Waverly felt an equal mixture of relief and anxiety to see the place was empty. Just like she’d hoped/dreaded.

Nicole Haught sat at the desk, pen scratching over a form. Her brow was knit in focus.

“Hey, Nedley out for dinner?” Waverly asked in a rush, barely able to make eye contact.

Head jerking up, Nicole’s eyes crinkled when she saw Waverly. The woman tilted her head with a deadpan reply. “You mean ‘happy hour at Shorty’s?’”

Waverly mumbled a “yea” as she looked over at Nedley’s blessedly empty office.

Perfect.

Nicole gave a small nod as she sat back in her chair, dropping the pen on her form. “Same time every day, kinda like clockwork. Do you need h—?”

That nod was all Waverly needed. She pushed through the wooden divider, past Nicole and into the Sheriff’s office. Setting her purse down on the desk, Waverly gave the office a fraction of a second once-over before heading for the window blinds that looked out into the bullpen.

“Hey! Wave!”

Nicole’s confused shout behind Waverly made her move faster. She tugged on the cords in rapid succession, the wooden slats angling closed on one, then another, then the third window. Standing in the doorway was a very confused Nicole, who again offered a soft “Hey?”

Nudging the taller woman aside, Waverly offered a gruff “excuse me” as she edged the door closed with a gentle slam. She looked out the office door one last time, but there was no one around.

Oh God.

When Waverly turned, Nicole snapped, “What is your problem?? I don’t understand why you—!“

That almost—almost—stopped Waverly. But she had already pushed forward, letting instinct and her pounding heartbeat lead. She was too close to stop now. She had to know.

Waverly had done the only thing that came to mind: she lunged forward and just kissed Nicole. She was just so tall. And when Waverly felt some resistance, she almost let go (but she had too much momentum propelling her forward).

But then… Nicole’s hands clamped down over hers. And not to push Waverly’s hands away, either. They held tight to Waverly’s wrists, one near Nicole’s neck and the other on her waist. Nicole held on, but the balance had already been upset and they were falling backward.

Luckily, Nicole somehow had the ability to maneuver them around the corner to the couch. And there… it continued for a moment. Held fast. Just like Waverly had hoped and feared and everything in between as they kissed.

Oh God, she was so soft and sweet yet firm and strong and—oh! Nicole tasted every bit as good as she smelled. Her head tilted in just the right ways, pushing and pulling against Waverly’s tongue with a gasp. When Waverly felt Nicole pull back from underneath her(!), she finally broke contact. Her heart still fluttered in her chest, but from happiness this time.

“It’s freedom, honey!”

While the last thing Waverly had seen before she shut her eyes tight was irritation on Nicole’s face, now that woman beamed back at Waverly with impossible joy. The light from the outside window shone almost like a halo on Nicole’s head.

All Waverly saw now were dimples and glowing skin and warm brown eyes and Nicole was just beautiful and Waverly’s voice caught in her throat.

Laughing lightly, Nicole’s question was laced with breathless amusement:

“What happened to ‘friends?’”

#wynonna earp #waverly earp #nicole haught #wayhaught #fanfic #wynonna earp fanfic #fluff #gap filler #dorks in love #canon adjacent #1x09 #just friends #gus maccready #shorty's #mutual pining #first kiss #not just friends anymore

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amynchan · 7 years

Text

Hey, all! Amy here and feel free to skip this, but I noticed a huge thing going around with fanfiction writers and fanfiction readers. Kinda throwing arrows at one another over mistakes and how they should be addressed.

Okay, first off: stop. Ew. It’s gross. Y’all are big boys and girls and y’all can act like it. You don’t need to attack each other at the knees behind the safety of your screens.

Secondly: there are points on both sides. People who write have a right to be proud of their work and can choose not to accept criticism. On the other hand, people who read and absorb the work have the right as well to point out mistakes they noticed if it’s meant to be helpful.

So how can people interact civilly when it comes to fanfiction and it’s accompanying critiques? By following a few internet rules, plain and simple. No, I’m not gonna tell you to forgive and forget or just roll over and let the other person have their way. That’s not what you do IRL and that’s not what you do online either. Instead, both persons have a series of rules to follow in order to try and make the most of their experience.

FOR THE WRITERS:

I start with you because you’re the ones who have poured your heart and soul into this baby. And I get it, I do. When you spend hours and hours slaving over your baby, going over the idea thousands of times in your head, trying to get the idea on paper, and trying to make it look good, then oh heck to the yes it’s your baby and you’re gonna defend it to the death. I expect that and that’s okay. What’s not okay is when it interferes with your ability to check in with the situation and see if they actually meant harm, so here are a few rules I’ve started to use over my years of fanfiction writing:

Read the entire comment for content. This is a bitter pill to take, especially if they sound condescending or snarky. I’ve run into a few of them, and they’re never pleasant to deal with, but some of them have good ideas. Try to filter out the junk of the comment and get to the meat of it all. (I’ll get to what to do if there’s no meat later)

Take a break from the comment when you get angry. And chances are that if it’s an unsolicited comment, you’re going to get angry. This is your baby and you’ve worked hard on it. If the crtiquer isn’t at least taking that into account, you may even get furious. Get up and walk away. They do not deserve your wrath.

Decide for yourself if they have a point. Most critiquers tend to leave their comments because they’re trying to help in their own (somewhat obnoxious) way. If they’ve got a point, thank them, but also try to express if the critique was delivered well. If it was, tell them so they can help more people. If not, tell them so they can work on it. IF THEY DO NOT HAVE ANY POINT AT ALL AND ARE JUST BEING RUDE, get rid of it. They’re not worth your time.

Respond or toss. This is up to you. If they had content that was actually useful, then they were being helpful like they were trying to be. If they had content and it wasn’t useful, it’s up to you what to do. If they had zero content in their critique or it wasn’t relevant at all, skip it. They’re not worth your time.

I actually formed these rules after an encounter with a critiquer who was completely neutral in tone, blurted my mistakes for the world to see, and essentially made me feel like the absolute worst writer in the world. They weren’t harsh, but their critique did hurt me, especially because I’d still just been starting out.

The first thing that happened was I got angry. I was livid, furious. Like, how dare they? Couldn’t they just sit back and enjoy the story? I spent a good week or so avoiding my fanfiction account just because I was so pissed off. I ended up talking to my mom and she asked me if they had any points. I think she was going for “if they don’t, then they’re not worth your time”, but they did. After that, I went back and tried to see it from their point of view.

Didn’t mean I suddenly wasn’t mad at them. I was mad, but I also realized that they, in their own roundabout and hurtful (to me, who reads inflection into typed words and winces at every loud noise and criticism) way, were trying to help me.

I worked on it, and I don’t think they ever commented on my stuff again, but the people who already loved my stuff? The people who said that my stuff was ‘cute’ or ‘genius’? They loved it all the more! The critiquer may not have stuck around, but those who did benefited.

(It really took me a long time to stop being angry at them. Now I just kind of take a lesson from them. As a fanfiction writer, and as a critiquer myself.)

FOR THE CRITIQUER:

I’m saying this as someone who has pretty high standards for what I read. I look into formatting, tenses, plot, characterization, spelling, and even comma usage! These little things do actually bug me, and sometimes enough to the point of wanting to comment, but I’ve been on the other side of it and remember the frustration and the anger that can come from a wrongly worded comment, so there are a few rules that I’ve formulated in order to be the best critiquer I can be and help as many people as possible get as amazing as they can as a writer!

Note: These rules are for critiquers who actually do want to help writers get better and improve the overall quality of internet written works. If you’re here because of some superiority complex, these rules may be difficult for you to follow. I, however, encourage you to do your best and perhaps one day you’ll be a good critiquer. *^_^*

Find a way to figure out if the author even wants your critique. One way to do this is to respectfully ask them. Always open with a positive. Something like “Hey, I liked ___ about your story, but I noticed something was a bit off. Can I give you a constructive critique?” Typically, an author would be happy to know you cared about their opinion, so this will go either one of two ways. They will either (A) allow the critique and actually listen to what you have to say or (B) politely decline the offer. This means they have made up their mind and you are to let it go. The back button is a wonderful friend at this point.

Follow the sandwich format. This is a tried and true method for getting people to actually listen. If you start in with the critique, the author will feel attacked and immediately get defensive. Instead of wondering if you’ve got any point, they will find ways to contradict you and argue. Instead, open with something you liked about the story. There was a reason you read it all to the end, wasn’t there? Mention that first (AND BE HONEST! NO ONE LIKES SOMEONE WHO GIVES OUT FALSE COMPLIMENTS), and then get to the critique, or ‘meat’, of your critique. When that’s done, exit with a thank-you for being willing to listen to your comments. It takes a lot for a creator to listen to someone point out the flaws in their baby, even if they’re trying to learn. Remember that you want this to be a positive interaction, not a demolition derby.

No insults or other derogatory comments. Unless explicitly stated otherwise, the writer is trying their best. Insulting them makes them less willing to hear you out, much less accept your comments and get better.

No elevating yourself over them. It’s a no-brainer. You’re not there to school them, you’re there to help them. Helping requires a serving mind, which puts their needs before your ego.

Do not hound the author. If they listen but don’t take your comments, you’re not allowed to harass them. Most likely, they don’t see a point in your comment and have elected to ignore it. And that’s fine. The point is that you managed to bring it to their attention once. Maybe they’ll come back to it later, maybe not. Either way, once your critique is given, it’s done. Unless they come to you asking about it, your job is to pack up and vamoose, or simply to sit back and enjoy watching the rest of the story unfold.

Make sure your comments are objective. Like, if there’s a comma problem, tell them about it. If there’s verb tenses being messed up, inform them politely. If person A didn’t get with person B, then you’re not critiquing. That’s a matter of opinion and doesn’t belong in the critiquing category.

Be respectful. They’re going on a limb and listening to you, and it’s the author’s choice whether or not to continue the correspondence. You don’t have to ‘kiss up to them’ or ‘serve them’, but you have to make sure you’re not being a jerk and that all your comments are warranted.

I know there are a lot of rules, but critiquing is hard, especially with how a lot of people view them. But you, the critiquer, ARE NOT EVIL. You’re not the bad guy. You’re not messed up. You’re not ‘sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong’. You’re human and you’re trying to be helpful. These are just tips and tricks on how to go about it the right way and maximize your helpfulness.

FOR EVERYONE!!

The last thing I’ll say is that not everyone will follow these rules. They will think they’re stupid or pandering or all-around dumb. Some people who claim to critique will continue to slander our good name by acting like holier-than-thou snits. Some people who write will continue to get outrageously angry for persons daring to say something went wrong.

Here’s how to deal with them:

Leave the computer. Or the website, just for a bit. Enjoy the sunshine, take a walk, talk with your best friend, eat some ice cream, go play. See if it just blows over. They don’t get to take away your happiness because they’re angry.

Delete the hate. When you’re good and happy, you can delete the hate mail, or maybe grab a friend to laugh at it. But don’t respond to hate with anger. As my good friend Warlord Okeer said, you shall inflict “the greatest insult an enemy can suffer. To be ignored.”

If they chase you down in anger, block them. This is okay to do. For fanfiction writers: if they continue to pester you with their comments after you say ‘no thanks’, block their tails. For fanfiction critiquers: if they got angry over a critique you gave, provided that they said okay and provided that you followed the rules of critiquing, you’re allowed to block them. You did it right. Don’t even stress.

And then there are the times where we forget to follow the rules and insult someone on accident. It happens. If you realize you’re in the wrong, it’s just one rule.

Apologize. No, you don’t have to grovel for forgiveness, but understand that your actions may have hurt someone else and react accordingly. If they won’t take it, at least make the promise to yourself to be better in the future.

And that’s it. I know it seems like a lot to swallow, but it all boils down to making sure your words are respectful, kind, and true.

Tl;dr: MAKE SURE YOUR WORDS ARE RESPECTFUL, KIND, AND TRUE!!

#fanfiction #rules #writing tips #critiquing tips #critique #critiquer #writer #discord #gifs #seriously writing is fun #let's keep it that way okay?

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vintaehge · 7 years

Text

4| Underworld

GANG AU Ship: BTS x reader x GOT7 A/N: Aish me... for not writing earlier. Sorry guys. I hope you’re all doing good so here’s a new chapter of this to make your day. It’s not proofread so be indulgent and understand that there’s some errors. Thank you. Word count: 1717 Warning: Slight mention of gang theme(drugs etc.)

MASTERLIST PREV NEXT

PREVIOUSLY ON UNDERWORLD: Here comes the act. Believe what I show you, believe that I’m defenseless, shy, sweet and weak… this way it would be easier for me to crawl up behind you and catch you in the act.

You closed your books, your lessons were finally over. You putted everything in your bag and raised straight to walk out of the room. It’s been quite the unsuccessful day for the mission your parents had given you but trust me, you were far behind giving up.

As you walked to your locker, someone’s hand grabbed your shoulder lightly. You turned around to see Mark. You gave him a sweet smile of yours and he grinned in return

“Hey (Y/N), I’m reassured to see you smile. You seemed caught up in your thoughts all day.” He said adjusting his bag on his shoulder with his other hand.

“Ah, sorry Mark-ssi. In fact, I was thinking about that murder. You know... the one they talked about with the two gangs involved, this morning in an article of the Korea Daily. It’s quite scary...” You said half lying with a low tone.

True, you were thinking about all that but you weren’t scared. On contrary, you wanted to meet those gangs personally to see how they truly were but that.. is a bit more complicated. Plus it would involve you getting your parents and yourself in some deep shit, probably getting caught investigating. Yep. Freakin’ bad curiosity of yours. Anyway, back to present. Why did you say that to Mark? Well that’s a start to gather info, dear. If you ask, Mark could probably say something that could give you an idea to where you could search information.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Seems like some deep shit, but you shouldn’t be scared (Y/N). I’m sure these guys won’t attack people like you.” He said grinning, passing a hand in your hair.

But when you faked a reassured smile to Mark, you saw a strange glint in his eyes. Like if he knew something. You cocked your eyebrow for a fraction of seconds than putted up an act, still smiling.

“Why do you say that? Not like you know how they proceed!” You said on a teasing tone to make him more comfortable to tell you what he had to say.

“Well no, but I heard that Got7 was only attacking the rival gangs that weren’t respecting them.” He answered passing his hand in his neck, pressing his lips together trying to smile.

He’s nervous, you thought mentally smirking. He knows something.

“Ah I trust you with this one Mark-ssi. I’m new here so I don’t really know anything about how the people act in the locality.”

Mark nodded and as he was about to talk again, your phone rang.

“Can I?” You asked to be polite and he once again nodded.

You took your phone and saw it was an unknown number. Your mother probably.

“Yes?”

“This is a recorded message. Darling, it’s mom. I couldn’t call you properly because else we could retrace my call and you know that’s dangerous. Open your mails. It’s important.”

“Ok. See ya.” You said faking the talk on the phone. You finished the call and looked up to Mark. You patted his arm lightly and smiled brightly.

“A friend of mine just called. She needs me to get some medicine since she is sick and can’t go out.” You lied.

“Ok it’s all good, we’ll talk soon then.” He smiled back to you and waved going out.

You waved back and opened your phone, making sure nobody was around, you checked everything went like you wanted. You smiled in triumph seeing a little dot moving around on a map. The chip you putted on Mark when you patted his arm. Now you’ll know if he was truly apart of Got7 since he looked so sure about this gang. If yes, it’s hugely likely that the six others with whom he sticks around are the other member of Got7

After verifying the chip, you went to your mail and saw a mail from a new address that your parents probably created.

FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] SUBJECT: Update.

Honey, this is your father. Here is the update for the mission. Read carefully we’ll ask you something quite important at the end.

First of all, we learned that the members of the gang are around your age. We heard it was family business passed down to their child, that’s why they are so young. Even though they are young, we clearly observe they have experience in this. If they are your age, they probably still frequent school. Give it a shot and be careful.

About the special request, your mother and I will be off on infiltration in less than a hour. We’ll go to the place mom told you last time, we’ll try to learn more. While we are doing this, I heard that the two gangs will both reserve themselves a secret place in the in some fancy place to recruit new members. Infiltrate disguised and try to join either of them, we called the 4B to help you they will be at your house at 18PM. Once again, be careful my daughter.

Don’t forget to erase this in the seconds following you finishing this message. You’ll receive a second email containing the emplacement and the way you'll get you and the girls to this place. PS- In the kitchen, second drawer below the sink, you'll find things you'll probably all need in emergency case.

- AGF

Soon you received the second part and opened the mail once again.

FROM: Unknown TO: [email protected]

In the garage there will be five motorcycles. The destination will be registered on it and you'll all be able to reach destination. By the way, there's some useful things in the storage compartment (which is in the seat. Some micros and fake IDs if you need some. Good luck

You nodded, once again keeping everything in mind. Other detail you won't forget until this case is close. You deleted the message and walked home.

Back home, you took out a pair of black boots, a pair jeans, a white shirt and a leather jacket. You tied your hair tightly in a high ponytail and putted dark eye shadow and eye liner to make yourself a bit different. You added to this a bright red lipstick and some fake piercings for your ears. If people recognize you, they wouldn't know you were in a mission to infiltrate a gang neither would they know what you were about to do in the metro, some random person would think you were gonna have a funny night out with some friends. Which was half truth. You will go out with friends but a funny night out? Depends on how it goes.

The front door's bell rang and you opened it, you were suddenly attacked by hugs.

"Gosh we missed you!" Said Lisa.

"Woah, it hasn't even been a month!" You laughed

After you all calmed down of this reunion you helped your four friends getting ready in the same way you did.

"Woah, we look like we are gonna rock it!" Said Rosé full of energy, smiling brightly at their reflections.

Jisoo and Jennie nodded at that.

"I feel badass as heck," said Lisa laughing lightly, "I guess your father let us weapons and a way to get ourselves to the place?" She asked you.

"Yep." You said heading to the kitchen, opening the second drawer, finding the promised weapons by your father. You gave a shotgun to each of the girls which they strapped to their thigh, like you just did.

"Now let's get to the vehicles." You add and you all went in the garage below your block apartment.

There you found five black motorcycle. You all started each engines and some different lights lit up below the vehicles. Now it would be easy to difference who is who. You climbed on the fancy motorcycle and pressed on the GPS start button. The destination was automatically showed. You grabbed the helmet coming with your vehicle and checked on the others. They raised their thumbs up showing they are ready to go.

And so you went. Full speed on, you took the direction toward the building you were required to go to. You could almost picture Lisa's laughing face judging by the sound she did, Jisoo's smile of glee, Rosé's smirk of excitement and Jennie's concentrated expression but her eyes betraying her excitement. You, yourself felt on the edge of your emotions for some reasons.

When you finally arrived at destination, you went off of your vehicles and took off your helmets. You re-styled your high ponytail, just as Lisa was doing, Jennie fixed her straight hair while Jisoo did herself pigtails and Rosé styled two braids in her hair. You opened the storage compartment of your motorcycle and got out some micros.

''Ok girls, fix this to your clothes and the only thing you shall not forget is to be discreet.''

They nodded and you moved to the building's door. When you entered you saw that every girls present was either briefly clothed or was just not clothed, which earned a slight disgusted face from you and your four friends. Everyone looked at you with dangerous look, which you all sent them back. In the corner of your eyes you catch the glimpse of Mark and Jackson's widening eyes. A smirk graced on your lips seeing you were right. He was apart of Got7 and so were the six others. You turned your look to up the stairs where you saw a familiar face staring at you. Jeon Jungkook.

You made signs to Rosé, Jennie and Jisoo to go see Got7 as you and Lisa walked toward Jungkook. His facial expression didn't even faltered.

''Well, that's a surprise,'' he said smirking, ''(F/N) who would've thought you would find yourself here?"

You smirked back.

''Well, I heard you were trying to find some members, so I came with a friend,'' you said side glancing Lisa which looked more serious than ever.

Jungkook eyed her which gave you the want to kick his ass but did nothing to keep your cover.

''Follow me.''

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valerie · 5 years

Text

My Point of View of Our Side

I started writing this a bit ago, maybe a week after the action all went down. I have hinted about it and I’ve finally decided to post it. I feel that it needs to be out there in the universe…

If you don’t know me…

Before social media, in the time of fan forums and fan created fan sites, I found myself hooked by the Herc/Xena fandom. I learned so much about interacting with fellow fans, how I wanted to portray myself online, and the perils of being part of a group as a fan. I attended various conventions and met my fellow fans in person along with the actors and actresses from our favorite shows. I befriended like minded fans who are still my friends to this day.

I stretched out my creativity by writing fan fiction (go on, ask me about the Temple of Ares) as well as maintaining fan sites for different actors or singers. I was one of many Kevin Smith (“Ares”) fansites and the one for Erik Thomson (“Hades) as well as William Gregory Lee (“Virgil;” he let me use his name as my URL). I even had a Ryan Gosling site! I gathered up articles, screencapped tv and movie appearances, even recorded sound bytes! All in good fun, of course.

I don’t know when I stopped updating my sites. It was a gradual slow-down. Kevin died. Erik’s work was in Australia and I didn’t have the means to watch some of it. Greg’s gigs were few and far between and I eventually let go of the URL. I switched web hosting providers and lost some of my site files that way. My site turned into a blog, which works better for me now, I think.

I don’t have active fan sites on my own domain now but I am still a total fangirl. I just choose to show my fangirl love via social media. I do screencaps of my favorites and show them off (hello, Sullivan Stapleton). I’ve written my Listworthy posts, which are basically love letters to my favorites. I’m part of the Jacob Davis Squad (spreading the word on singer songwriter Jacob Davis), I can be found in various Tyler Rich fan groups, I’m all in for Jordan Davis. The aforementioned groups are loosely organized and I’m more a member just doing my part to spread the word than an actual driving force. And I’m happy with it. (Although it helps that I’ve met Jacob, Tyler, and Jordan and seen them perform live.)

Behind the scenes of a particular unnamed fandom

Then there’s Fans of Listworthy5*. (This isn’t about publicly calling out anyone and I don’t want to affect any tenuous relationship we might have with Listworthy5 so I thought I’d not mention him by name even though if you know me and my affiliations, you know exactly who he is and what the group is…)

We are a group whose purpose is to spread the word on actor Listworthy5. We support him and his work. We interact with fellow fans, hopefully in a positive manner. We have a blog as well as accounts on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, and even Pinterest. The Twitter and Facebook accounts probably get the most interaction and traffic due to their function while the Instagram posts get a fair amount of likes.

My friend started the endeavor and almost five years ago, she asked me if I would like to be part of it. After some reflection, I said yes. Yes, I had to take some time to consider it because I knew it would be a commitment and it had been a long time since I’d actually set myself to be more active as a fan. I wasn’t sure I could keep up but I wanted to try because why the heck not?

The Kickass Show (starring Listworthy5 and Listworthy6) was winding down at that point and we wanted to keep the attention active on Listworthy5. The Twitter and Facebook accounts were steady but could use more attention. The IG opened up about six months after I joined. We brought in another person, then another. One of them left then we added two more. We were a group of five for a year and a half or so until very recently.

What does it take to be one of our group? First and foremost– trust. When my friend asked me to join her, she trusted me. When we expanded our group, we trusted those invited. This is supposed to be fun and informative otherwise why do it? Contrary to what people might think, we aren’t doing all of this just for his attention. Do we want his attention? Sure! Are we willing to sell each other out for it? Umm, no. Do we want meaningful dialogue with our fellow fans? Of course. We’re not in it to stroke our own egos. We’re in it to share with each other and with our fellow fans.

When you’re in a group promoting and sharing the love for the favorite, you operate within certain parameters. Who sets those parameters? In our group, for the big decisions, we defer the one who created the space. More often than not, if a majority of us feel the same way, she will defer to us. But it’s supposed to be a group effort, especially in terms of the big things. My personal philosophy is this– you shouldn’t know if it’s one person or fifty in terms of who’s posting from our accounts. We speak with one voice, perhaps bringing our own flavor now and then. But we do for the group because we respect one another, Listworthy5, and our fellow fans.

The incident aka it’s not all sunshine and roses

One of our members took the initiative and worked the connection already established with Listworthy5. She managed to score not just one but three interviews with him under our auspice. The interviews were long and full of information. His responses were thoughtful and personal– just what fans love to read to learn about their favorite. It was a great thing for our fan group– not just for us behind the group but for the fans who adore Listworthy5.

Just after the third interview was conducted, this particular member decided– without consulting any of us– that she was going to take full control over the Twitter account. She changed the contact information and the password in an attempt to lock us out, even though IT WAS NOT HER ACCOUNT TO TAKE.

Let’s stop right here for a moment. Let’s think about this. This particular member– not the founder, mind you, but someone who’d been with us for at most a couple of years– decided to take a part of our fan account for herself without consulting any of us. She didn’t reach out to the founder or any of us. She just decided on her own that she was going to take the fan account for herself. And she expected us to be okay with it.

We invited her into our group. We trusted her to do RIGHT in the name of the group. In her statement to us as to why she was taking over the account, she said, “Your motivation is attention from” Listworthy5. She accused us of not doing enough work. She took credit for the current status of the twitter account. And she ended thusly, “You’ve not been blocked from the page just from acting as an admin. Please do not choose to get ugly or hateful through the page. It will only reflect poorly on you and that would make this all the more sad.”

So the person who actually got personal time via interviews with Listworthy5 believes that WE are the ones only motivated by attention from him. The person who locked us out of OUR group account is telling us not to get “ugly or hateful” through the page. Isn’t the act of locking us out just a little ugly and and a touch hateful? Oh, and were we supposed to be happy that she didn’t BLOCK US from the account that she DID NOT create?

She banked on our own honor and civility, assuming we’d not call her out publicly for what she had done (we have not said anything publicly). She thought we would just swallow the bitter pill of her betrayal without action (we had plenty of words about it). She thought she could still be part of our group but have the twitter account all to herself (otherwise, where was she going to post the interview that rightly belonged to our group). She thought she could say nothing when we demanded the account back since it was not hers. She thought she could disrespect us and just get away with it.

The fallout

The lockout did not last long. We were able to take back the account the same day (she did not give it back– she just wasn’t as clever as she thought she was) and we changed all the passwords to the other sites. She thought she locked us out but we ended up stripping her of admin rights to our group.

So what happened to that third interview conducted under our group name, you might wonder? Well, she posted on her other fan site as if it had been done for that site and not ours. She even re-posted the previous interviews to that particular fan site, the only concession noting that the interviews had been originally posted on a previous date but not WHERE they had been originally posted.

Here’s the thing– there were signs that she would go off the rails at some point. Re-reading the previous interviews, she injected a lot of her own personal experience into the questions. She conducted then posted the second interview without letting us know. She deleted photos (of Listworthy5!) that were cross posted from the IG to the twitter account because they did not go with HER vision yet she retweeted her other fan site’s posts when they had nothing to do with Listworthy5. She demanded that she be the only to post to the twitter account. For a lot of her time behind the twitter account, half of the posts did not DIRECTLY involve him. She accused us of not doing enough work yet we were too polite to tell her we weren’t comfortable with all the non-Listworthy5 posts on the twitter account.

Trying to shut us out by claiming an account that didn’t belong to her was a baller move, albeit one that backfired on her. From her statement to us, I could tell she thought she was doing the right thing by stealing from us. When we were trying to tell her to give back the account, we challenged her to create her own fan site. We didn’t care as long as we got our account back from her. She used her position as a group member to ingratiate herself into Listworthy5’s good graces. He will never take sides (and I don’t want that from him) but she framed her decision as one made *with* him. I’m personally suspicious of that notion but I’m a little naive at times.

(IMO, it just doesn’t seems like a good idea for an artist to choose sides in fan disputes, especially, if in his eyes, no one has done HIM wrong. You know what I mean? He doesn’t need to know about our “in-house” conflicts.)

What’s happening now?

Perhaps this is my way of getting my part of our side out in the open. Listworthy5 won’t read this but maybe the people who might have taken the former member’s side (and why are there even sides?) will see this and have a more complete picture of what went down.

Our trust was broken.

We were betrayed.

Respect was shattered.

Maybe it sounds melodramatic to state it as such but we were all genuinely hurt and angry by her actions.

What matters for our group is to continue to promote Listworthy5 and his work. We do this out of love and we want it to be fun as well. Knowing that we have even a sliver of his attention is enough (for me, at least). Knowing other fans appreciate our efforts is the best reward. Sharing our love and adoration for him– in fun ways, in serious ways, in thoughtful ways– is the important thing. We are a group because we want to bring different facets of fan adoration to the mix. The recent kerfuffle was merely a blip that could have been avoided if not for the ego and self righteousness of one who obviously believes there’s only one way to “fan” and that’s HER way.

Lesson here – there is more than one way to “fan.” There is no wrong way as long as there is respect for the artist, the fellow fans, and yourself. When you’re gathered into a group to promote a particular artist, there must be respect for your fellow group members. The artist appreciates it all if he’s worth anything. Making him choose between fans is disrespectful not just to him but to fans who have worked just as hard as you. Being a fan isn’t a contest– it’s enjoying the artist and your fellow fans. No fan is better than another. We’re all different. And that’s a good thing.

from My Point of View of Our Side

#My Point of View of Our Side

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nothingman · 6 years

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Anwar Khalifa is about as Texan as you can get. He speaks in a sharp twang and cruises around in a Chevy truck with real longhorns mounted on the front. He never skips “worship day,” he taught his three daughters to shoot, and, most important for his standing in Tyler society, the 57-year-old is a lifelong Republican.

For decades, Khalifa’s conservative politics coexisted just fine with his Muslim, immigrant background; his family moved from Egypt to Texas in the late 1960s. He chairs the nominating committee of the local Republican club, and he’s invited a slew of Republican politicians to the mosque his parents helped build. The biggest display in his office is a framed photo of him in a cowboy hat next to then-president George W. Bush at a White House event one Ramadan.

Khalifa’s loyalty to the GOP runs deep, and yet he’s down to maybe two Republican candidates he says he can vote for in good conscience in the November midterm elections. His East Texas ballot will include a candidate who apologized after approving a white nationalist rally, a bankruptcy-plagued radio host nicknamed “the Trump of Texas,” and a state official who compared Syrian refugees to rattlesnakes. Oh, and Sen. Ted Cruz. (“Just evil,” Khalifa said.)

Ilana Panich-Linsman for Buzzfeed News

A framed photograph of Anwar Khalifa with former President George W. Bush shares space with Kiwi, Khalifa's pet macaw, in his office.

Khalifa can’t bring himself to vote Democrat, but he sure isn’t voting for that GOP lineup, either.

“I can’t vote for people who are not just anti-Muslim, but who are anti anything that isn’t like them,” he said. “Unless you’re a white person in this country, you don’t matter to them.”

Khalifa is among the last of the Muslim Republicans, a subset of voters that’s disappearing as the GOP moves right on race and religion, with leaders openly demonizing Islam and staying silent when President Donald Trump makes bigoted remarks. Last month, just a couple hours from where Khalifa lives, an internal battle erupted in the Tarrant County Republican Party over calls to remove the party’s vice chair, Shahid Shafi, because he’s Muslim. That fight is still going on.

Muslims aren’t kingmakers, but they have the numbers to influence tight elections in places with high concentrations of Muslims.

Making up just 1% of registered voters nationwide, Muslims aren’t kingmakers, but they have the numbers to influence tight elections in places with high concentrations of Muslims. The Council on American-Islamic Relations, or CAIR, the nation’s largest Muslim advocacy group, flagged five statewide midterm elections where the relatively high number of registered Muslim voters — Democrats and Republicans alike — might swing a tight race: Senate seats in Texas, Missouri, Florida, and Arizona, as well as the dead-heat match for Wisconsin governor.

As with other marginalized communities, Muslims saw a surge of political engagement after Trump’s election, with the emergence of first-time candidates, new lobbying groups, and Muslim-led voter drives. In California, a Muslim Republican, former Pentagon prosecutor Omar Qudrat, will be on the November ballot in a deep blue congressional district. Overall, however, the newfound energy has focused on Democrats. Muslims left the GOP en masse in the post-9/11 era of the Iraq War and the Patriot Act.

Now, under Trump, Muslims who stayed Republican are once again navigating what it means to be in a party where they no longer feel welcome. As the episodes become uglier and more frequent, they face a choice: Leave the party in protest or stay and fight?

Khalifa said the stakes are too high for him to walk away from access that took 25 years to cultivate. His cachet in Republican circles means that when he sees old friends taking potshots at Islam, he can confront them, as he did recently when he asked a buddy running for sheriff to scrap a campaign line about keeping “Sharia law” out of Smith County.

Ilana Panich-Linsman for Buzzfeed News

Khalifa with his cockatiel Snow at his home in Tyler, Texas.

“If we get involved, if these politicians know us, when we show up, we matter,” Khalifa said. “When we don’t show up, we don’t exist, and they can do whatever the heck they want to us.”

Six other Muslim Republicans interviewed this month said they too had decided to stay with the party they’ve supported for decades, though some are backing off from active participation or, like Khalifa, abstaining from midterm voting. They argue that even a muted Muslim voice in the ruling party is better than no representation as policies are drawn up to ban, deport, or bomb Muslims.

"This is my party, and I’m going to stay and fight.”

Despite the Trump era’s lack of official channels between the White House and Islamic groups, a handful of Muslim Republicans say they’re still using personal connections to lobby on issues such as the Rohingya crisis in Myanmar, or attempts to block mosque-building projects in the United States. Those slivers of access aren’t nearly enough, they say, making them all the more determined to push back against their party’s narrowing definition of who counts as American.

Suhail Khan, 48, a former Bush administration official and one of the most visible Muslims in the GOP, said he’s excited about recent Republican-led tax and regulatory measures, as well as Trump’s Supreme Court nominees. But the anti-Muslim stances sting coming from a party he joined because of its ideas about individual liberty and limited government.

“It has been a moment of concern, of oftentimes great frustration and anger, absolutely,” said Khan. “But I’ve never questioned whether this is my party or whether I’m a conservative. This is my party, and I’m going to stay and fight.”

Cooper Neill

Mohamed Elibiary outside his home in Plano, Texas, in 2015.

Muslim Republicans like to invoke the famous line Ronald Reagan used about Democrats to explain their own conflicted affiliation these days: They didn’t leave the Republican Party; the party left them.

“Are we down to two now?” said 43-year-old Mohamed Elibiary, jokingly, when he was asked about the issue.

As a Dallas-based security analyst, Elibiary has helped counterterrorism officials craft policy and handle sensitive cases involving Muslims. In 2011, the FBI, led at the time by Robert Mueller, gave Elibiary the agency’s highest award for public service. Even so, right-wing Republicans called Elibiary a terrorist sympathizer and a secret member of the Muslim Brotherhood. He also was asked to step down from local GOP posts because he accepted an appointment to a Homeland Security committee during the Obama administration.

“I don’t ever try to push young Muslim Americans into the party, because they don’t deserve that kind of bigotry."

Elibiary said he hasn’t broken with the party but is sort of on pause, waiting for the right-wing storm to pass. He’s been a Republican for 25 years, he said, so the investment is worth it for him, but he no longer thinks it’s the right choice for Muslims just starting out in politics.

“I don’t ever try to push young Muslim Americans into the party, because they don’t deserve that kind of bigotry or intolerance,” Elibiary said. “I can put up with it as a 43-year-old. They can’t as a 23-year-old.”

About 8% of American Muslims said they voted for Trump in 2016, according to a Pew Research Center survey. In contrast, polls showed around 40% of Muslims voted for Republican George W. Bush in the 2000 presidential election. When Elibiary first became politically active, most American Muslims from immigrant backgrounds voted along Republican lines, until post-9/11 policies pushed them to identify as independent or Democrat.

Saba Ahmed, the head of the Republican Muslim Coalition and a commentator known for appearing on Fox News in a star-spangled headscarf, said it was a tactical error for Muslims to flee the party in the Bush era.

Fox News / Via youtube.com

Saba Ahmed appears on Fox News with a star-spangled headscarf.

“We left a huge void for a voice that was anti-Islamic to talk about us,” she said. “I think the only reason that sort of rhetoric is finding any space is that there’s a huge lack of Muslim voices in the Republican Party.”

Ahmed, a patent attorney who lives in Oregon, said she was such a novelty at the 2016 Republican National Convention in Cleveland that she got face time with leaders she might never have met otherwise. When Ahmed was introduced to former House speaker Newt Gingrich and Rep. Peter King of New York, she said, she spent several minutes confronting them about their anti-Muslim remarks.

The main critique of her approach is that it starts by arguing for Muslims’ humanity, as if the onus is on Muslims to prove not all 1.7 billion of them are terrorists. Many young Muslims are done with condemning attacks they had nothing to do with, or ingratiating themselves to politicians who lash out at Islam. Ahmed defends her methods by arguing pragmatism rather than ideology: Isn’t face-to-face dialogue more effective than shouting from the sidelines?

“I shouldn’t be the first Muslim people talk to,” Ahmed said. “But talking directly makes a huge difference in presenting a different image of Islam, and of Muslims.”

Robert McCaw, CAIR’s director of government affairs, said it’s important to have Muslims active in the GOP because there are so few other channels for influence now that Muslim advocacy groups are frozen out of the White House and the Republican National Committee. He said CAIR and other national Muslim organizations have tried to open talks with the party, “only to be rebuffed.”

McCaw also has tried to get the RNC to delete a question from the “Listening to America” survey on its website: “Are you concerned by the potential spread of Sharia Law?” The same question popped up later in a Trump campaign email. The fact that the question is still up on the GOP website, McCaw said, shows that “from the very top of the Republican Party, they are fearmongering about Sharia.”

Republican National Committee officials did not respond to messages seeking comment.

“Muslim Republicans should engage the GOP and challenge it to be that big-tent party McCain advocated for in his final message to Americans,” McCaw said, referring to Republican Sen. John McCain of Arizona, who died Aug. 25. “Right now, the soul of the Republican Party truly is divided on whether they support white supremacy and tribalism, or they’re an inclusive party looking toward the future.”

Ilana Panich-Linsman for Buzzfeed News

Khalifa chats with friends before Friday prayer at the East Texas Islamic Society in Tyler.

Tyler’s main mosque, the East Texas Islamic Society, sits across from the Oil Palace, a venue where country and cumbia stars perform on tour stops.

Khalifa’s parents helped to build the mosque when there were so few Muslims here that they only filled a single row at Friday prayers. Now, dozens of Muslims from all backgrounds come to the Friday service and others attend a new, second mosque.

One recent Friday, Khalifa was greeted warmly with bear hugs and salaams, though in truth his relations with some members are strained because of internal leadership conflicts as well as Khalifa’s politics. Not long ago, a Palestinian member of the congregation lashed out at Khalifa publicly because of his support for the state House campaign of a rabbi friend, Neal Katz, who supported the Trump administration’s move of the US Embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to contested Jerusalem.

After that incident and other flare-ups, Khalifa went weeks without coming to the mosque, a painful absence for him. He said Muslim leaders call him up to serve as an interlocutor with the East Texas political class, but are reluctant to support him publicly because of his politics.

“I kind of had to back off. It’s a shame,” Khalifa said. “Either you want me doing stuff in the community and you support me, you back me, or I don’t do anything in the community because I don’t have your backing. It can’t be both ways.”

Ilana Panich-Linsman for Buzzfeed News

Khalifa in his home office.

Khalifa feels the squeeze from the Republican side, too. There was a time, Khalifa said, when he could get just about any politician to come to the mosque. Khalifa said even Rep. Louie Gohmert, a tea party stalwart, paid a visit before he transformed into one of the most strident anti-Muslim voices in Congress. Now, he said, Gohmert won’t take his calls. (Gohmert’s communications director didn’t respond to an email seeking comment.)

That feeling of losing ground, in both Muslim and Republican spaces, is difficult for Khalifa, who takes pride in how his Egyptian parents carved out a corner of Texas where Muslims opened businesses and lived as examples of their faith’s tenets of charity and community service.

Fatima Elkabti, 30 and Mohammad Arif, 29, a Democratic Muslim couple Khalifa befriended when they moved to Texas four years ago, said they’ve watched Khalifa’s disappointment grow as Trumpism spreads through the party and state he loves.

Sometimes, they said, it seems like Khalifa refuses to accept that the Texas that welcomed his Egyptian parents is now a place where Arif’s dental office was defaced with white nationalist stickers within a week of opening last year. At Elkabti’s optometry office, a photo of her in a hijab is displayed prominently outside the door in part to weed out bigots who might cause trouble if they show up for an appointment to find that their eye doctor is Muslim.

Elkabti and Arif have a toddler son, and Elkabti is pregnant again. They’re leaving Texas soon for Louisville, Kentucky, the birthplace of boxing legend Muhammad Ali, and Arif jokes that at least people there won’t freak out at a Muslim name. They love a lot about Tyler, Elkabti said, but it’s draining to feel like your whole life has to be a PSA for Islam. One of the things she admires about Khalifa is that he treats that burden as an opportunity.

Ilana Panich-Linsman for Buzzfeed News

Mohammad Arif and Fatima Elkabti dine out with their son, Zakaria, in Tyler.

“He’s a pillar of this community, and I don’t just mean the Muslim community, but for Tyler,” she said. “He perfectly straddles these two worlds.”

Khalifa was born in Egypt, but reared in Texas. He went to high school in Dallas and college in South Carolina and Texas. In the mid-1980s, he went back to Cairo for an internship at a bank, where he met his wife, Hala. He brought her to Tyler, where they had three daughters and launched a construction company, Pyramid Homes, after he was laid off from a Texas chemical company.

“In East Texas, you’re Republican or you don’t matter.”

Hala said she and their daughters do not identify as Republican and don’t fully get what Khalifa loves about the party. He said he was drawn to ideas about small government and entrepreneurship in the Nixon years, and learned along the way that GOP affiliation was vital for breaking into Tyler’s business and political classes.

“In East Texas, you’re Republican or you don’t matter,” he said.

Khalifa became a community fixture. He was a Muslim voice on a local religious council, he was a police chaplain, and the governor’s office invited him to serve on the Texas Human Rights Commission. He’s volunteered with Habitat for Humanity and an AIDS prevention group. He’s currently planning an appreciation dinner for local law enforcement, though some of the other organizers are balking at his request that it be alcohol-free.

Ilana Panich-Linsman for Buzzfeed News

A photo of Khalifa with the former vice president, Dick Cheney, in Khalifa's office.

After years of showing up for virtually every cause in town, Khalifa finds it galling that some fellow Republicans would now look at him with suspicion solely because of his religion and immigrant background. The fact that they overwhelmingly voted for Trump wasn’t a surprise, he said, but it was still heartbreaking to see party loyalty valued more than standing against racism and bigotry.

“The fact that party has become more important than country is disturbing. Party first. Party, party, party,” Khalifa said. “On Charlottesville, Trump said there were good people on both sides. These were white supremacists, people who hate, who were there for a specific reason.”

The outbreak of hatred might be shocking to some Americans, but Khalifa said his years in the trenches among East Texas conservatives has prepared him for this moment. About six years ago, he said, Brigitte Gabriel, one of the most extremist anti-Muslim figures in the country, came to Tyler on the right-wing lecture circuit. Khalifa took a group of Muslims and sat in the front row, he said, “just to say, ‘We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.’” Khalifa said they’d agreed beforehand not to interrupt. He took notes of all the Republican friends and acquaintances he saw at the talk, and started making calls afterward. He’s not sure he swayed anyone, but at least Gabriel didn’t get the last word.

“I called them up and asked, ‘Why the hell did you go to that?’” Khalifa said. “And then I told them, ‘Y’all need to come to our open house at the mosque.’” ●

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fedup-fugitive-blog · 7 years

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How My Life Got Flip Turned Upside Down

I keep telling myself that today i will get this part of the story written. I will find a way to relive the most horrific day of my life and put it into words. I keep asking myself if there is anything I have missed, something I might have over looked. I know there is plenty that I can only speculate on because the reasons why are still unclear to me. And I honestly can't tell you what exactly the charges against me consist of, because I have never been told. The only things I know for sure are the things I witnessed and recorded, and I'm pretty clear on most of the discrepancies that were reported in the newspapers and online. I will do my very best while recounting these events to be clear on what I know to be fact and what is merely my own speculation. It was September 8th, 2016 and the heat was nearly unbearable. While the heat wave wasn't anything unusual for a Mississippi summer day, what was unusual was that I had finished with my recording and editing session early that day. Another somewhat unusual circumstance was that I was feeling frisky. I was having pretty decent luck getting my husband in the mood as well, but the heat and the pitiful state of our air conditioning unit in the house we were renting was quickly making our fun more of a frustration. To top things off we had run out of soda and tea. The only thing in the house was water and neither of us was all that interested. In the months to follow we would muse many times over how we wish we had just drank the damn water! But Dollar General was only two miles away, a quick trip in and out and he would be right back. So I nodded my agreement before readjusting the little oscillating fan to blow directly at me and them flipping through channels to see what was on. A few minutes later I received a text from my husband saying he had been pulled over by police. Our tags expired at the end of August and I had forgotten to renew them so instantly I assumed this was the problem and went about trying to fix it. I knew there was a 15 day grace period but heck they had him stopped so I figured I better not wait and just get it done. I tried several times but wasn't having any luck with the renewal online. So I texted him back and said I tried and tried but it wasn't finding our car on there. He responded with "Ummm I don't think this is about our tags" I was confused by this so I said "ok whats it about?" He said he didn't know but there were six cop cars in Dollar General parking lot with him and that they wanted to search the vehicle. The irony here is that we had heard some crazy horror stories from people who had agree to searches, so we had done our homework and understood the laws and our rights. My husband knew he wasn't breaking the law, and that there was no contraband in our car so there was no reason they needed to search. So he politely refused. At that time they told him they were searching for a female in a similar make and model car who was wanted for burglary. The car was registered to me so they asked him what I looked like. He showed them a picture of me he had on his phone. The picture was about five years old but its all he had. Through dealing with all this he was trying to text me and tell me what was happening but I wasn't really grasping the situation. Then he told me they were telling him to put his phone away. Great.. silence... I couldn't take it. I grabbed my clothes and shoes and ran out the front door. I jumped on my bike and started pedaling for all I was worth. I barely made it the two miles and thought sure I would have a heart attack and keel over on the side of the road. I actually only made it as far as the golf cart sales place about a block away from the store. I went up huffing and puffing and begged for a ride, told them it was an emergency and that police were detaining my husband and I needed to get to him. They gave me a ride and pulled in right alongside the officers cars. I said thanks and they wished me good luck. Seeing all the police milling about talking kind of spooked me and I still was so winded I knew I wouldn't be able to talk to them yet. So I walked passed all of them and into the store. Later I would learn that upon seeing the photo of me that my husband had presented, they had become convinced they had found the right person. A quick glance at a five year old photo was enough for them to be sure they had the right girl, but me walking right past them and even saying hello to a few who looked up at me, made no connection for them at all. I went inside for a few minutes and stuck my head inside the cooler where they keep the frozen stuff and tried to regain my breath. Then I grabbed two diet cokes from the cooler and checked out. My husband was still sitting on the curb in handcuffs the same as he had been when I arrived. He hadn't seen me go inside because he was staring at the ground but he saw me when I came out. I gave him a look like "what the hell???" but I continued walking until I left the parking lot and entered the parking lot of the dance studio next door. The K9 unit was just arriving and I sat down in the shade to watch what was happening and to try and make sense of any of it. The officer walked the dog around the car two times in its entirety and nothing happened. Then on his third trip around when he reached the rear of the car he tapped the bumper with his hand and the dog sat down, barked, and put his paw on the bumper. Then everyone who had been standing around before went to work. They removed everything from the car piece by piece. As they were doing this it occurred to me that if they thought I did something then they would be coming for me. I had to get home! I had to make arrangements for my kids who would be getting out of school soon. So I started walking and flagged down the first person I came across and begged for a ride. He agreed and was quite pleasant. When we turned down my road I could see cop cars already at my house. I asked the driver to drop me off at my neighbors letting him believe it was where I lived. Once he backed out of the drive and went on his way I started further down the street trying to get to the cluster of trees in the front corner of the yard. I was about 100 feet away when I heard another car coming and quickly laid down in the ditch behind the tall grass. Luckily the ditch was deeper than I expected and the grass was very tall. I was easily hidden from any cars going by but the sun was directly above me and beating down on me in an unrelenting way. I managed to open one of the diet cokes and drank a bit but I knew I had to move. Then I heard voices and footsteps and my heart skipped a beat. If they were walking down the road looking for me, there was no way I wouldn't be found. As the sounds grew closer and closer I realized it was only one person and he was talking on his phone. He had it on speaker phone and it sounded like he was talking to someone superior to him. I heard him say "we have the guy but not the woman" the voice on the other end of the line was too muffled for me to understand but the guy, who continued getting closer to me with each step, paused now, and I held my breath because I could see his legs and shoes through the tall grass. He was saying something that I didn't really understand but what I heard was, "I think we'll be ok on this one, since we have that video" I watched his legs and shoes pivot and turn away from me and if more was said after that I didn't hear it. I was praying "Dear Lord let him keep going I have to get someone here for the kids" He did keep going and as soon as he was gone from sight I started moving. I managed to squeeze under the bottom row of barbed wire and into the field adjacent to my house. The small cropping of trees blocked any sight of me from the house so I started running back towards the neighbors. Oh God I could hear another car coming but I'm only 10 feet from the tree line!! I can make it right?!! I was still about two feet outside the safety of the trees when another cop car passed by. I practically froze mid-stride and watched in horror knowing I was in wide open view. But the officer was texting and looking at his phone and never saw me. When I saw his attention was elsewhere I dove for the trees. I had never met my neighbor because I suppose I am antisocial to the extreme. But now here I was in her front yard with no where else to go. I ducked under a big shady tree in her front yard and leaned back attempting to catch my breath again and glad to be out of the sun. Now i turned my phone on and tried to get in touch with my Mom. She was right there and I told her don't ask questions right now because I didn't have any answers but that I was pretty sure I was about to be arrested and that she needed to call the kids schools and send them home with friends and then get in her car and drive as fast as humanly possible. I knew the parents of the kids I told her to send them with would have no issues with them showing up. And if I could make it some place safer I would call them myself. Mom did as I asked and soon she came back to tell me it was taken care of and that she was getting on the road right then. It was about this time that I noticed my phone battery was at 10%! Damn iPhones always dead when you need them most. I thought of my husband sitting handcuffed on the sidewalk and logged in to "Find my iPhone" and erased his phone. I felt bad doing that but we never deleted our messages and much of our texting was quite personal. We are both very private so I felt it was the only option or they would be able to pick through our lives and that made me mad as hell. Then as I sat and stared at my dying phone for a moment it suddenly occurred to me that I had security cameras all over my house. So I started trying to see what I could as quickly as possible because my battery life was fading fast. Before I could even pull one up though Mom texted me and said the police had just called her and said i needed to turn myself in because I was only making it worse. I told her I had every intention to do just that but not yet. I wanted to know what this was about, I needed some real answers. I clicked back out of messages and logged into my iPad which was leaning against a pillow on my bed right where I had left it in my rush to help my husband. Jackpot! I could see inside my room and I could hear them talking but OMG my battery was down to 4% and this would drain it fast. Then I noticed something odd, one officer was leaned over my macbook and was reading out loud to the others.. he was reading messages between me and mom!! I had left iMessages open on my Mac so all our texts were being relayed on screen for them to read. AGH!!! I set the iPad to motion record even though the app I used was nearly pointless because it only records for one minute and them wont record again for another five full minutes. But it would have to do for now. They were searching through my stuff and I KNEW that couldn't be right. So I prayed and hoped it would catch them, even if only once. Then I called Mom back and told her they were reading our texts and not to text me again. After hanging up I logged into another favorite app of mine, Remote PC. This app allows me to control my Macbook from my phone. I couldn't see what was happening in my room anymore so I had to do this blindly and hope for the best. I connected to the Mac easily then clicked system preferences and display and lowered the brightness all the way. This blacks out my screen and makes the computer appear to be asleep or off. In the app however, nothing changes. I can still see the screen as usual and from there I was able to turn on facetime. I didn't intend to call anyone I just wanted to view the camera without them knowing. Facetime loaded just in time for me to see an officer frantically trying to get the screen back on. He assumed it went to hibernate so he pushed the power button and off she went. Well crap! I wanted to scream but then I realized at least now he cant get back in, even if he restarts it the password will be required and he wont figure that out. So we both lose that round oh well. My phone beeps at me at makes the sad mac battery dying sound. Its on its last leg. I turn it off to conserve whatever is left and get up and start making my way to the back of my neighbors house. I'm hoping for an outlet because I have my charging cord in my purse. I check the garage but its locked up tight and I dont see any on the outside of her house. I continue further on back thinking about the dog they had searching the car. I push my way through thick tangles of wisteria vines and trees. Its muddy but its cooler and I find a small clearing to sit in directly behind my house. I know they will be coming for me soon. I'm sure of it. But they won't be coming where I am without making a whole lot of noise. And while it is super thick towards the house if I were to go away from the house it seems to thin out more and more the further you go back. I turn my phone back on for the last time and manage to log back into my iPad. The house is quiet now, the dogs aren't barking but I can hear their toenails clicking on the hardwood floors. No one is in the house. My dogs would never stop yipping if there were someone still there. I force myself to stand back up. As I stumble to my feet I see a huge snake rush to get away. I seriously hate snakes and a chill runs up my spine. I don't let myself stop long enough to question what I am doing, I just keep moving. I push my way through the thick brambles again but slowly and as quietly as possible. When I make it through I am relieved to find myself directly behind the storage shed in the backyard. One of my two boats is parked behind the shed so I hide between it and the building and listen. I figure I need to free up my hands of anything extra for now and besides my phone is dead. My purse is made of leather so I put my iphone six plus (which is brand new) inside it and then look for a place to stash it. I think if they find me back here they will look inside the boat but where else can I??? Bingo! I put the purse under the boat on the trailer. This way if it rains maybe it will be shielded a bit more. I put the full bottle of diet coke and my half drank bottle up in the seat of the boat and now my hands are empty. Yes this is better I think. I peek around one side of the shed and then the other. Nothing. Then I go back to the first side because it keeps me more hidden and i creep slowly towards the front. The back porch is only 20-25 feet away from me here but we have built a small wire mesh fence around the stairs where the pups come out to do their business. On a good day my short legs trip on that thing and I cringe at the thought but I have no choice. I stay to the far right of the yard as much as possible as I dash for the porch. Once I get there I step over the mesh with ease for a change, but before I allow myself that sigh of relief I have to check the door. I open the screen silently and almost squeal when I see the backdoor is open. Only a tiny crack but it is open!! I dart inside and cut sharply left into the small kitchen to listen and make sure the house is still empty. There is a gate between the dining room and living room so the dogs can't get to where I am but they hear me. They aren't barking but they are making soft yipping sounds and jumping up and down wanting me to get them. I wish I had thought to put the backdoor back exactly as it was but my fear had me paralyzed so while i did push it back closed some, it still stood open about a foot as compared to the inch or two that it was before. I quickly stepped over the gate and then turned into my bedroom. My life, my business, all my work for the past four plus years was on my laptop and three hard drives. I grabbed a large purse and shoved them inside not bothering to inspect the purse prior to doing so. I unplugged my iPad and shoved it into the bag as well hoping beyond hope it had some evidence on it of what was happening. I glance around the room and determine there is nothing else I need right now. Ok what about the dogs??? Can I just leave them here? I can always come back for them and Mom is on the way after all. I decide its my only choice because they are so small, only two lbs each and the heat outside would do them in. Here they have food and water and cooler air. I kiss them both and tell them to go lay down and be very quiet. They listen very well on this day which surprises me. I step back over the gate and into the dining room and rush towards the back door. A few more steps and I'm gone, then I'll lay low and wait for Mom and we can figure out how to get my man out of jail and try to piece together what is happening. I reach for the handle and grab it and start pulling the door open when I see a bald man in a red shirt in my back yard. FUCK!!!! I don't know if he saw me and I can't wait to find out. I rush back towards the front of the house and I'm in between the kids rooms when I hear someone at the backdoor. I rush into my daughters room and lift her mattress and put the bag with my computer and hard drives under it. I'm out of time to hide myself. If I had only a few more seconds I could have gotten under my sons trundle beds but my time is up. I dart behind her bedroom door and pray its enough. I hear the front door open as well and hear two male voices as they begin looking through the house. I hear one say that the backdoor was open about a foot and that it was closed almost all the way before. I curse myself silently as sweat pours down my face an into my eyes. Probably for the best that I can't see. If my heart thumps any louder its bound to give me away. I hear them come into the room with me and I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. I hear some stuff shuffle around and then someone leaving the room. I peek an eye open just in time to see the sleeve of a shirt on the officer exiting the room. I don't really move per say so much as I cringe and shy away from the opening crack at the back of the door. The sigh of relief wanting so badly to come out but not yet. They are still in the house so I'm not safe yet I remind myself. Then in the blink of an eye the bedroom door slams into me with enough force I actually loose awareness of where I am for a moment. Then my arms and hands are being twisted in awkward ways. They are both screaming at me to stop resisting and I keep saying I'm not resisting through my stunned awareness. They pull me from behind the door which they make harder on themselves by not getting out of each others way but the person paying the price for that clumsiness is me, or more specifically my wrists and arms. Once they have me out my whole body is lifted vertically and then thrown down on the living room floor where they frisk me and cuff me. They ask if I have anything on me and I say no because I honestly don't. As they begin to walk me out the front door to the squad car one of them asks where my computer is. I just look at him and shrug. He says "Thats ok, the warrant is on the way and then we will find it" Then I open my big stupid mouth and utter the stupidest things I have ever said to date. The words that will come to haunt me most likely for the rest of my life. I look back at him and in a moment of sheer exhaustion and confusion and despite never being read my Miranda rights, I have to confess that I already understood them and yet in that moment of sheer frustration, I gave up my right to remain silent. I turned to that ignorant jackass and sneered at him as vengefully as possible. Then I said, ha! thats rich, warrant is on the way huh? Thats fantastic since I've been recording you for hours searching through my things. And what I said was 100% true which is probably why I'm sure my tone was far more haute than it should have been, especially when the only tone he should have heard was me shutting the hell up. I've wondered billions of times if I had kept my mouth shut would they have ever even charged me with this? Was it my hiding in conjunction with my vehicle matching another vehicle they were looking for enough for them to say screw it, even if it wasn't her she will look guilty for sure now??! Or was it just recognition or maybe the promise of a raise for solving a crime so quickly that led them to take this path. I often speculate that it is a bit of all the above, with possibly a smidgen of fear when they wonder what evidence DO I have against them? The fear that not only would their praise quickly go away but that with the evidence I potentially could have (and I assure you I do have) that their behavior would cause them to lose all credibility, and put them at risk to lose their jobs due to integrity issues. I personally believe it is this last bit that causes them to continue on pushing harder and harder at every turn. This is only the very beginning of my tale and there is still a lot more to be told about this day as well. But my fingers are tired of typing for now so lets pause here and I'll continue when I return.

#MeAndMyBigMouth #HowtoMakeAGoodGirlGoBad

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