#The disaster lesbians don't know

[blackvelvetcorvid]

A chat as the sunsets ♡

Maybe there will come a day when moments don't need to be stolen

[oldtvandcomics]

Book Shout-outs for Pride Month #1:

Ever wanted a series of lesbian superhero romances, all stand-alone, but set in the same universe and building off of each other (think Phase 1 MCU)?

Hearts of Heroes series by Molly J. Bragg. They're more romance than superheroes, but once you know what to expect it's GREAT.

Scatter is about a US Deputy Marshal who gets promoted to work with the team around the superhero Focus. From the first moment on, there is something strange between her and Focus, but only when she accidentally time travels back to the early 90's begins she to realize that she may be Focus' mysterious long-lost partner, Scatter.

Transistor is about a woman who gains superpowers because the doctors forget to deactivate the supercomputer used in her gender-affirming surgery. It only really becomes an issue when an angry angel comes after her neighbour and long-term crush, very determined to kill her.

Aether has a disabled protagonist, who dies when the building blows up during an experiment. Luckily for her, her consciousness gets somehow preserved, and she gains extremely strong powers. Now she just has to stop the guy who caused the accident from doing it again...

Rhapsody isn't out yet, but based on the summary, it is going to go more into the dragon side of the lore.

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Three panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Milly's legs as she runs through knee-high water in the foreground, chasing after Wolfwood who's walking away in the background, the Punisher unwrapped and slung over his shoulder. Milly is shouting, "Wolfwood!" The second panel is a close-up profile of Wolfwood's stern, distant expression as he turns. The third panel shows Wolfwood spinning around and striking Milly hard enough in the stomach to knock her out, with Milly looking completely shocked as she takes the blow. End ID.]

A downside of the manga, I think, is that it doesn't have anywhere near as much of the downtime that the anime has, so some character relationships feel very underdeveloped in comparison, a prime example being Milly and Wolfwood. They get several good anime episodes focused on them as individuals and working as a team, so when they hook up right before Wolfwood dies, it actually feels like it makes emotional sense instead of being some Forced Heterosexuality. But we almost never seen them interact in the manga, and the few times they do, they're more interacting with Meryl and/or Vash in each others' presence rather than each other, so they don't really have any sort of relationship. Knocking Milly out because he figures a fight with the Gung-Ho Guns is too nasty for her to deal with is a dick move on Wolfwood's part, but does make more sense in the manga where he barely knows her, whereas I feel like it would come off a lot more patronizing in the anime after he's already seen that there's some steel in her spine, especially when innocent people are in danger and ESPECIALLY especially when Meryl's in danger.

...Still a dick move either way. I know Midvalley be hornfreaking but bruh dumping her with a bunch of disposable civilians while too unconscious to defend herself if things turn nasty is NOT REALLY HELPFUL.

[kingdomoftyto]

Decided to check out the audio drama Fawx & Stallion this weekend and GUYS... guys this show is SO FUNNY. I couldn't stop laughing for the first three episodes straight.

It's the story of some wannabe detectives living in Victorian London. Specifically, they live at 224B Baker Street, just across the street from a certain pair of decidedly more famous detectives--and they're sick and tired of having all their potential cases scooped by Sherlock Fucking Holmes. Luckily for them, while Holmes and Watson are out of town looking into some matter about a dog, a new case comes along and drops--by default--into our would-be heroes' laps.

And just who are these aspiring crime-solvers?

Hampton Fawx: detective and gentleman. What he lacks in common sense he makes up for with raw theater-kid enthusiasm.

James Stallion: gentleman and detective. A loyal friend and companion when he's not being a self-important arse. Runs on approximately 20% gin and 80% spite.

and finally Madge: neither gentleman nor detective. She's just been stood up by her date and she's going to make that everyone else's problem. She'll agree to help on this case just for the Drama.

It's a hysterical romp so far. A lighthearted farce set just offscreen from Holmes' own capers (for now!). Our main trio lacks even a single braincell to share between them, but by GOD they're going to solve this case and I'm going to be cheering them on the whole way there!

From what I can tell, new episodes are typically every other Monday, but the show's on a short hiatus for the holidays, to return in 2023. The first five are currently available to listen to, though, and I highly recommend it!

[standalone-manga-panels]

Source:

I Don't Know Which Is Love

[mirukosbitchywife]

just so we're all clear if you post bi vs lesbian discourse or bi women hating on lesbians/vice versa i am blowing you up in my mind. every time i see one of those posts my urge to sloppily make out with a bi woman increases. your discourse can't stop me. im kissing every normal bi woman/enby directly on the mouth right now actually. we're gonna have sex on your bed later btw

[eemolu]

we should mingle

The first thing is the light. Koniortos Court is all bright, varnished wood and big windows that look out onto vivid blue, and all of it hurts the hell out of Gideon’s eyes. Then there’s the people, young people, all of them under the age of 60 and mingling in a way that suggests if they do have arthritis, it’s only a light touch, which is—“Close your damn mouth, Griddle,” Harrow says, and then she gathers her robe in her hands and steps forwards, and, shit. Gideon’s already behind. She half jogs until she’s back in position, and as she does so heads in the crowd start to turn. Conversations stop, low murmurs begin. Harrow’s knuckles twitch in her robes and someone says, quite loudly, “THE REPRESENTATIVES OF THE HOUSE OF THE NINTH.” (the ninth shows up to a party - abigail pent tries to adopt more teenagers - i read the masquerade ball au in htn and couldn't stop thinking about it oops)

read on ao3

[calciumcryptid]

.

[nyxchipz]

I don't see enough art of Casandra being a screaming lesbian disaster that girl is on the verge of combustion in her every day life

P.s. did you guys know sapphic April is borderline canon? Well now you do

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's hanging out with Steve at Family Video when Robin stomps in like a whirlwind.

"Oh, god, I did something so dumb. You have to help meee."

They straighten from where they lean over the counter towards each other, and Eddie takes a big step back, sure that all his big gay feelings for Steve are on display.

"What did you do this time?" Steve smiles with exasperated fondness.

"It's so bad." Robin faceplants with a dramatic wail.

"What happened?" Eddie asks

"I--I'm so sorry!" She looks at both of them, and a tingle of panic works it's way up Eddie's spine.

"My parents started going on and on about me and Steve and why we won't just admit we're dating, and I started to freak out because they won't accept that we're just friends, and I'm not ready to tell them that I'm a lesbian, even though I think it would be okay, so, I told them you were dating someone, Steve."

"Well, that's not so bad, Rob. So, what, they think I have a girlfriend? Who cares."

Her shoulders slump and she frowns. "I wish that's what they thought. They kept asking who, and I panicked!"

"Robin." Steve looks alarmed now, his pretty mouth pulled into a grimace. "What did you tell them?"

"Okay, please don't hate me," she begs. She's looking at Steve, but then she's looking over at Eddie. And oh, god, oh fuck, this can't be happening.

"You've got to be kidding me, Buckley," he says. He keeps his voice light but the touch of panic has become a punch.

"Wait. How do you know--how does he--? Who am I dating?"

"Me, Harrington. She told them you were dating me."

"Oh," Steve shrugs. "Sure."

Eddie chokes on air, plays it off. "For you maybe, Stevie. We in the Munson household have standards."

Steve doesn't meet a beat. "I'll have you know, Edward, that I am a catch."

"Yeah, for the lovely ladies of Hawkins," Eddie winks, even though every word, every gesture aches.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm a great boyfriend. Defend me here, Robin"

Normally, Eddie finds these antics to be charming, but confronting his crush on Steve so forcefully has ruined his mood.

"Need a cigarette," he says to escape.

He's only alone for a few minutes before Steve is sidling up next to him.

"What's she need us to do?"

"Dinner."

He grimaces, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'm so bad at meeting the parents."

"Shut-up." Steve pokes him in the chest. "Everyone loves you. It's kind of obnoxious, actually. Plus, I think this'll help her feel more comfortable about coming out."

He snorts if only so he doesn't have to think about Steve talking about him and love in the same sentence.

"Fine. For Buck, I'll do it." But he doesn't know how he'll get through pretending to date his biggest crush with out spontaneously combusting.

"Love the enthusiasm," Steve laughs. "You know I'd treat you right, Munson."

The blush that rolls over his face is crimson. "Alright, big boy, calm down. We're not actually dating."

The bark of laughter Steve lets out is a burst of pure adrenaline to Eddie's heart. This is going to be a disaster.

---

The night of the dinner arrives and Eddie almost blows the whole game when they walk in the Buckley front door and Steve's arm wraps around his waist. The night is all casually intimate touches and Steve leaning into his personal space; calling him "baby" in a soft, warm voice; eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as they flirt and banter.

It's almost like they're a couple; almost like Steve could love him.All of his senses are overwhelmed with Steve Harrington and it fucking hurts. But Eddie lets himself indulge, finally running his fingers through Steve's gorgeous hair, tracing the moles on his face and neck, outlining the sharpness of his perfect jaw, calling him "sweetheart" with heartbreaking fondness.

It's intoxicating.

They're helping Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when it happens. When Steve leans over and casually presses his lips to Eddie's, tasting like vanilla ice cream and spiced apples and something indefinably warm. Eddie is helpless not to crumple, leans into Steve, wraps fists into the perfectly fitted polo, drawing them closer.

The night ends and Eddie thinks he's finally free, except the Buckleys love them. Keep inviting them back.

He goes for Robin, he tells himself, but he knows that it's for the hope of it. Knows that he's a ship breaking himself against the rock that is Steve Harrington, and god help him, he can't stop.

---

Of course, of course, the wires get crossed. The kids have a pool party, leave Steve and Eddie to ice cream clean-up duty. Of course, he can't stop himself from smearing some melted mint chip down Steve's face, and Steve retaliates with chocolate sauce.

They giggle and flight and make mess until Steve's eyes are bright, cheeks red, and Eddie can't look away. He clocks Steve's eyes drifting to his mouth, is helpless as the distance between them closes, as Steve captures his lips.

It's not the brief, chaste things from the Buckley's; it's hot, all tongues and teeth and desire, and it's not fucking real.

Eddie lurches back, making Steve stumble. "Stop," he snarls.

"Eddie--" Steve's eyes are wide.

He's panting, can't catch his breath. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that when it doesn't mean anything to you."

"Please," Steve begs. "Let me explain."

"Save it. We're done with this. Robin is good now. And I'm out."

He turns away, heads towards the front door, but Steve pulls him back.

"Let me explain. Please. Please, Eddie. I didn't mean--"

And it's too much. Steve's plaintive voice, his big eyes wet with tears.

"Of course you didn't mean it," he spits. "It's nothing to you, pretending to date me. Touching me. Kissing me. Acting like you love me. It doesn't matter to the Heartthrob of Hawkins. But have you or Buckley ever taken the time to think that it's everything to me?" Hot tears spill down his cheeks and he can't even be embarrassed because all of this has been so humiliating.

Steve gapes at him, face slack and stunned. "Eddie, I--I'm so--"

"Don't. See you around, Harrington," he says. Then he runs.

---

He doesn't leave the trailer for a week. Refuses to pick up the phone.

It's Saturday, early evening. Wayne just left for his shift when there's a knock on the door.

Eddie is content to ignore it, to wrap himself in a quilt on the couch, but the knocking doesn't stop.

"Eddie, I know you're in there. Your van is here. The lights are on. I can hear you," Steve calls.

Longing clenches at his heart, but he's not in the mood for the gentle let down.

"Go away, Harrington." He starts towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he can lock Steve out.

"Please, Eddie."

"I don't need anything from you, Harrington."

It's silent for long enough that Eddie thinks it works. And then, " I have so many things I should tell you, Eds. If you still hate me at the end, I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But please, please listen."

Resigned to having a conversation he never wanted, Eddie opens the door. "Okay, Harrington."

Steve steps inside, twisting his hands for a few seconds before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months."

The confession briefly steals Eddie's breath from his lungs before he scoffs, "and you never said anything? C'mon, Harrington, when have you ever hesitated to ask someone out?"

Steve blinks a few times, before he answers. "I've been terrified to say anything because I didn't want to lose my best friend."

"And what, Robin asks us to pretend to date and you think that's the perfect time to make your move?" Eddie grips at his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

"Yeah, a little bit!" Steve raises his voice. "I tried but I was terrified you only wanted me as a friend."

"You know I'm gay, Harrington!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Of course I wanted you!" Eddie's yelling now, has closed the distance between them so they're almost nose-to-nose.

"I didn't know! How could I? You could've said something!"

"I thought you were straight! Fucking look at you! You've slept with 75% of the available girls at Hawkins High!"

"Who cares about them, Eddie? I want you!"

"Funny way of showing it, Harrington."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Cause I am."

"Is that why you kissed me at your house? Making your move?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. I got--" Steve's throat bobs as he swallows. "Caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I know."

"Then why did you?" Eddie's voice breaks. "Why then? Why not any of the other nights we spent together?"

"Because that's when I realized that I'm fucking in love with you!" Steve shouts.

They're both breathing hard by the end, Steve's eyes too bright, face too flushed. They stare at each other, unmoving, Steve's confession ringing in his ears.

"You done?" Eddie's voice waivers, his heart pounding, stuttering, flipping in his chest.

Steve nods, but Eddie doesn't give him a chance to move. He brings their mouths crashing together, Steve not even hesitating to slip his tongue between Eddie's lips. They kiss hard enough that they draw blood, but that just makes it more frenzied. Eddie grips Steve's hip, presses him against the trailer door, grinding against him with abandon.

Eddie breaks the kiss to finally pay some attention to the delightful moles on Steve's neck, working his way up to his jaw. "I'm going to have so much fun taking you apart, sweetheart," he whispers, mouth pressed to Steve's ear, delighting in the way he shivers at the words.

[nerdykeppie]

Launching Tuesday - Historically Queer, our next enamel pin collection!

We Have Always Been Here.

Ten pins - two pairs, five single pins, and the La Maupin mega pin (she needed extra room for her headdress) - each with multiple unlockable colorways.

We launch Tuesday, 9/12, at 3PM Eastern, noon Pacific. Follow us on Kickstarter to be notified when we launch -- or just to help out! The visibility to Kickstarter from having followers on our campaign helps a lot. :D

Featured in this campaign:

Enheduanna, oldest named author. Incorporating trans themes into writing thousands of years old.

David & Jonathan, king & prince whose love surpassed the love of women.

Sappho, Lesbian poet. She should need no other introduction.

La Maupin, also known as Julie d'Aubigny. The original disaster bisexual. Opera singer, swordswoman. May have burned down a convent.

Publick Universal Friend, American religious figure. Going by gender-neutral pronouns since the year the Declaration of Independence was written.

Anne Lister & Ann Walker, the Gentleman Jack & her wife. Acknowledged as the first same-gender marriage in modern Britain.

Dr. James Barry, British surgeon. A transgender man, Dr. Barry performed the first C-section done by a European in Africa in which both mother & child survived. He is also credited with vastly improving conditions for wounded soldiers in the British military.

Nikola Tesla, Serbian-American genius. Listing Tesla's inventions would take a series of posts. Liked pigeons better than people.

If you don't see your favorite historical figure, don't fret! We've planned multiple sets of Historically Queer figures. We can't use them all up at once. :) Help ensure we can make future sets by helping us create this one!

Frequently Asked Questions under the cut.

Hey, what flag is that on Sappho?

That's the Sapphic flag, created by @tepkunset. NerdyKeppie's owner, Spider, is a butch lesbian who uses that flag for their art.

Hey - what about [historical figure]? How could you forget [historical figure]? This is erasure!

We didn't forget, we promise - this is the first of several installments of this project. After the absolute stress of the last Kickstarter when we had 300+ different SKUs by the end of the project, we decided to take a more focused approach to Historically Queer. We attempted to provide a good cross-section of identities, and will continue to expand in future projects. Spider has a huge folder on his computer full of planned pins and reference images.  

But historically...

Yes, we know that it isn't totally proper to use today's terms to discuss people who lived a long time ago. But also, how else do we talk about our community history in a way that's understood, and celebrate our shared queerness, other than to use the words and iconography which are understandable to us now? We celebrate our shared history with the words and understandings most accessible to all of us, and we hope that by providing not just the pins but a few elementary facts about these historical figures, we'll encourage people to read more about them in their original context.

[the-moon-files]

YESSSSS I BEG GET INTO THE CULTURAL DIDFERENCES BETWEEN HYLIANS AND HUMANS 🙏🙏

...now ur just sweet talking me 🥰 /lh

Not years, well maybe 1 year-

but i have wanted to ramble desperately to smone, even the tumblr void if i had to, abt humans vs. hylians so much, esp with a guide reader or male reader bc whatdya know im into niche stuff that only u and like 2 other ppl like lmao ¯\(ツ)/¯

Anyway im so shocked, since ur like the third person to be interested in this and wanna hear abt it 🥺 🤲💌 here u go!! Hope u like it <333 👉👈

Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him)

Orbit: Humans are Not Hylians/Humans are Space Orcs AU, Headcanons-ish, long overall but each section is kinda short

Stars: Mostly worldbuilding! you've been warned, don't get mad me for not talking abt the boys too much✌️

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of private area/joke in the clothing headcanons, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

just some quick headcanons bc tbh i haven't given it too much thought, and i feel like I've been able to somewhat get into it in other posts? or maybe im thinking of stuff i have in my drafts idk-

Imma make another list, so buckle up for the short ride lol

Courting periods/dating/marriage

individual/small groups society-based hylians v. large personal groups/large community society-based humans

simpler foods hylians v. complex food humans

clothing modesty/style/relationships with fashion

fighting styles/strategies

entertainment complexity/differences

and language

☆

1st one, not much yet, im also making a separate post bc someone else asked me to talk abt that more 🥺

(tysm for all the enthusiastic asks guys <33)

anyway, basically hylian courting is a lot shorter, think “lesbians with the uhaul” type of energy, like sort of the classical medieval “does thee wish to pursue marriage with this one?” ← how hylians ask u out for the first time lmao

if it helps, they do tend to get to know one another well, talking about morals/kids/life goals/preferred lifestyle/house/etc. pretty clearly and quickly, then using the in between time to sort of stew on that information

id say the total time is sort of something like 6 months? maybe 3/4 if they're really compatible

(so bc i love interpreting video game logic for real world building, I actually blame this on how fast Zelda/link get together in games despite having sometimes never met before that moment lol)

like i said, ill be posting about this later

2nd one!!

pretty basic, just saying we don't really see hylians in big groups, despite the organizations they form, like kingdoms/knights or on a more personal level, towns/families/etc.

(once again, in-game appearances/video game logic translated to real life to draw these conclusions)

like not only are family units pretty small, like nuclear family setup, with like 2 parents and 2 kids, or single parent 1 kid type of situation, but the towns or collections of these families arent very big either

hylians kind of use their government the way it was intended lmao?

like the villages and towns matter more for everyday decisions than the kingdom/royalty, like Zelda would esstientally just be the mayor of Castle Town for those constant decisions,

while occasionally is called on to make decisions like for several towns or like is a natural disaster happens

meanwhile humans are, in comparison, in Way Bigger groups, both on an organization scale, and a personal scale

like u have all these specific branches of government, whereas im sure the population difference doesn't help,

and on a personal level, humans can easily have like multiple parents, lots of siblings, and once u combine that with each parent having family too, and those families like to meet up? All together??

yeah, itd look insane to any hylians (who’s smaller extended family may just make up their own village and that's it)

3. I've touched on this

like the use of spices, syrups, seasonings, etc

but also the complexity of dishes too, like chilling cream and mixing it for awhile to make ice cream, or even just getting ordering a pizza,

that's a lot of processing, like making the dough from flour and other ingredients, to letting it rise, to making the tomato paste, making cheese, then combining those things with any other toppings, all into one dish??

i like to think that hylians have only just started to touch on actual complicated cooking processes (as in BOTW, where they sell flour and salt, so people besides Link/Wild must know what to do with it)

this has the advantage of impressing any hylian with what a “creative genius” you are lol

4. look im just a fan of medieval time periods Links

so i think its funny if the hylians are used to like 4/3 layers and ur over here like, “wym, if i take off my shirt there's nothing underneath?”

one of them gets bold enough to ask, “d-do you not. do you not have undergarments??”

you “just my boxers? like just to cover my di-”

also this makes its easy to seduce people here? LMAO

clothes are def higher quality, after all there's not as many artificial processes or materials interfering,

plus u usually get some sick embroidery on it too!!

5. so like i get it, Link is the main fighter in games

but like, the few times there is a war/army in loz games, there's rlly not a lot of strategy, beyond just finding the enemy and fighting

tho im partial to that hylians/most inhabitants of Hyrule abide by the “lets meet up either literally by inviting each other or just between our territories to fight”

with occasional guerilla warfare (by any means necessary/stealth/ambush attacks/strategy) that's only rlly used either by Demise/Ganon, or by the wilder individuals/races in games

or maybe even the more civilized fighters in an emergency

and so that means by this logic that all of the Chain use kind of wild techniques compared to their race/kingdom lmao

id imagine its not too surprising to also see “every fight is a bar fight if its for my life” from individual travelers, so im sure they're not viewed too crazy (esp when ppl know their the hero that constantly has to deal with guerilla warfare from Ganon)

but its be hilarious to watch the reactions of both the Links realizing they’re in a bigger group that should be using “proper” fighting strategies and seeing the general publics reaction to this absolutely feral, armed to the teeth, trained hylians with their equally wild human lol

LMAO everyone thinks ur the reason they started using the more brutal fighting methods bc ur human, ur a bad influence lol

(humans would use it primarily, esp after we converted to use that method in warfare a couple hundred years ago i think?)

changing course a bit, hylians tend to use weapons (to compensate for difference in strength compared to humans, and since they don't experience/get a lesser version of adrenaline)

while humans tend to equally rely on weapons and our body as a weapon (marital arts/basic self-defense)

6. this is mostly bc the hylians only rlly seem to have the basics of music, books/stories, theater, and art

i have, surprise surprise, another post abt how i think this came to be,

mostly based on how human curiosity is indomitable and insatiable and the endless force that has not yet met its immovable object.

or at least an immovable object they haven't at least poked a little, out of curiosity lol

like we went to space for that reason, we reach the most dangerous corners of our planet (deep underwater/volcanoes) out of sheer curiousity/for the sake of simple knowledge of the thing

so needless to say, curiosity can absolutely drive any field to its limits, including the arts, which is why we can have stained glass, or movies/tv shows, hell, the marvel that is Hatsune Miku lmao

(fully for entertainment, a projection of light and sound, what is essentially magical illusions but u did it hte hard way, to the hylians)

on a different entertainment related note, i don't know if the hylians would be super into sports, or not really at all? mostly bc they have to use their fighting/training against real threats, not the sort of “fake” threats that sports are

but on the other hand i could see people like knights wanting to use their abilities for something other than violence and fighting bc their life or their villages lives depended on it

bet the Links would enjoy it for those reasons especially, what with at least sumo wrestling being a sport or activity for them at some point in history, and practically beg u for any new games to play, or to ref their games, bc whewwww

im sure they could get pretty competitive lol

7. obviously, their mostly influenced by the Japanese language

id almost like to imagine a sort of, if not outright Japanese (like with earlier heroes like Sky) then a sort of English-Japanese hybrid further along the line

sort of like how English has German/Greek/Latin roots and therefore u can see what words or structure comes from where, or even how u can understand a fair amount of basic words when other languages share the same roots (english, pants = spanish, pantalones)

would make for some funny miscommunications

or even better, most hylians liking ur unique accent or the Links love to hear u talk bc of it lol

☆

well the fever has broken, i am now free of the sickness that made me hack this up geez

i hope u got some enjoyment out of these my beloved anon!! esp since u were so nice as to ask abt it <33

hope u guys have a great weekend, look out for some more posts, bc its been great to get some more asks in lately and very motivating,

not to mention i actually have time to write now that my siblings graduated/we’ve moved several states over 💀

so i have reliable internet now too! sheesh :’)

Peace out,

🌙

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part one here and two here

content: angst, more lesbian disaster

word count: 6k

Chapter 4 should be up next weekend!

Chapter Three

Apologizing is hard for you...

You have too much pride—too much ego.

Apologizing displays a depth of vulnerability that you've never quite been good at.

With Mel, it's easy. Because besides your parents, she’s the only other person that's been a constant in your life. Besides your parents, she’s the only person that has stayed—that has loved you—despite all of your flaws. 

You haven't known Sevika for long. In fact, you can argue that she probably knows you more than you know her.

From the very beginning, you made an effort to show her all of your faults. She ultimately gets on your nerves at times, the Monica situation excluded, with her being bossy and too clean and too nit picky. In the past, she’s voiced her opinion of you being slightly loud, and easily bothered, and easily distracted. There’s fundamental differences between the two of you—differences that you picked up on within the first week of living together. Differences that should make you want to chew each other’s heads off.

Yet she still wakes up every morning and eats breakfast with you.

She still listens to your endless rants about your workplace drama. 

She still shows you grace when you forget to unload the dishwasher, during the times you accidentally play your music a bit too loud, and during the moments you disrupt her sleep for an ice cream run. 

Apologizing is hard for you, but when it comes to Sevika, it's easy.

She makes a lot of things easy for you, even when you don't want to admit it.

Even when you know that you make everything so much harder for her.

That's why you're overcome with guilt for the rest of that night. 

Every atom in your body screams for you to march across your flat and make things right. After all, you've had many disagreements with Sevika but never this. Never something so hurtful.

So that's what you do. 45 minutes have passed since you’ve stormed into your room, and 45 minutes is how long it takes for you to wipe your tears and open your bedroom door. You're trying to calm your breathing and unblur your vision when you stumble through the pitch black apartment.

You stub your toe on a piece of furniture, which causes you to curse and halt your steps before you force yourself to limp the rest of the way.

It’s only when you reach Sevika’s bedroom that you realize her door is halfway shut, and her lights are off. Your knock is met with dragging silence. Then you knock again and there’s no reply.

Frowning, you crack open her door, “Sev?” Your voice echoes off of the walls. 

Switching on the lights, your heart plummets when you see that the room is empty. You check her bathroom—also empty—and her balcony with rising panic. But it's to no avail.

When did she leave?

You're usually able to hear the closing and opening of the apartment door from where your bedroom is located. You're certain that you would have heard her. There's never a time when you don't.

“Sev?” 

The answering silence makes your chest hollow.

And it's only when you're swallowed by soul-crushing despondency when you realize the true weight of tonight’s quarrel.

When you text Sevika, wondering about her whereabouts, she takes her time to reply. The message marks as read for 42 agonizing minutes before you receive a simple word:

Out.

Your stomach tugs and your heart drops, because you know that there’s not much else you can say before overstepping boundaries. 

Sevika is receptive to almost everything that you dish out, but you aren't quite sure she'd handle clingy as well as she does your other traits.

It’s barely been two months.

You don't want to suffocate her.

Similarly, sending an apology text seems low. Disingenuous. 

Not only is that cheap but it’s the last thing she deserves. You’ll apologize in person, when she’s home and (hopefully) in better spirits. You’ll make a whole ordeal out of it: order her favorite pizza, some beer and butter her up with nauseating kindness.

Yes—that’s it.

That’ll do the trick.

For now, you’ll allow her to cool off. You’ll give her the night. You’ll give her space.

And when dawn strikes, you’ll push away your pride and make it your mission to win back her good graces.

But the issue is that Sevika never returns.

When you wake in the morning, you're greeted with the chirping of birds by your window. Your bedside clock reads 9:16 AM; an hour that Sevika is usually awake for. 

After washing your face and teeth, you expect to see her hovering over the toaster while the kitchen television streams the morning news. You've grown accustomed to that kind of morning. During these past two months, you've caught yourself wondering how it's taken nearly two decades for you to find that kind of peace.

But today’s not that.

The toaster sits untouched and unplugged, kitchen lights off as well as the television, and apartment Sevika-less.

Your mouth twists as a low huff escapes you.

Okay. Maybe you were being unrealistic to think that she’d return first thing in the morning.

Lunch time is more practical.

Except noon rolls around and she’s still gone. You have to leave for work in a few hours, and you begin to feel uneasy by the shrinking window of Sevika’s arrival. You feel like you’re running out of time. You feel like you won’t be able to make things right if she doesn't return before you leave. 

You don't want to do this tomorrow.

You don't want to experience the agonizing misery of waiting for each hour of your shift to tick by tonight; wondering, hoping, that she’s already home.

And maybe that's a little selfish—because you shouldn't be apologizing for the sole reason of lessening your guilt. You should be apologizing because it’s the right thing to do. Because that is the least she deserves. 

So, you swallow your guilt and head towards your balcony. Maybe some fresh air will help clear your mind.

It’s 11:45 PM when you hear jostling from the entrance door.

You pause the movie on your laptop, craning your neck to get a better listen. 

That familiar click resonates through your room before you hear the creaking of the hinges. Your breath hitches, eyes widening and chills running along the hair of your spine. 

She’s home.

Suddenly, your pre-planned speech is thrown out the window. 

Your feet are taking you across the floorboards before you can fully register what is happening.  You think that you are about to throw up from the amount of anxiety currently flowing through you right now. You don’t believe you’ve been this worried about someone’s absence throughout your entire adult life.

“Sev?” You call.

There’s shuffling in the hallway, which spikes your heart to an unprecedented rate. 

There she stands, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and beanie on her head. She's toeing out of her boots, breathing slightly labored and hallway filled with her cologne. There’s a chilling presence about her, probably from the cold temperatures from outside, but it makes you freeze nonetheless.

The only indication that she’s heard you is when her movements slow upon your approach. But she doesn’t look up.

“Sev?” You call again, this time quieter. 

Where’s that impish smile that makes you want to roll your eyes and hug her breathless at the same time? 

She begins to shrug off her coat.

“I was worried.” You add. Tentative. Scared.

You watch apprehensively as she hangs her coat on the garment rack. Her back is facing you. It stretches upon movement; broadening and flexing through the material of her peach button up. 

You didn’t know that she had packed a bag. 

The thought creates layers of unsettling emotions.

“....Nothing to be worried about.” Sevika replies. But despite her reassurance, her tone remains unwelcoming. Your eyes fall shut momentarily as you fight off a wave of remorse. There’s the slightest bit of warmth that spreads across your shoulder. When you open your eyes, you realize that she’s brushed past you. 

Her footsteps travel towards the other end of the apartment, where the kitchen resides. 

You follow after her, desperate to say anything–to do anything that will relieve this tension.

“I’m sorry.”   

Your apology wavers; the crack of an iceberg. 

“I really am,” You continue, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Her arms are folded as she leans her weight against the counter. “...I was being so ridiculous. I mean truly, Sev. I don’t want…” You’re shaking your head. “I don’t want something like this to come between us.”

Her gaze remains planted on the floor. She purses her lips, expression purely contemplative. Then, “Why don’t you like her?”

“I never said I don’t…like her.”

That’s when she peers up at you, lips twisting into a scowl and eyebrows furrowing. 

Your hands raise defensively and you sigh. “Okay, okay.” You shift your weight, struggling to recover from the ice in her stare. “Sev, I’m sorry for how I acted. Truly. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t bring her around. I want you to feel comfortable. This is home. Your home.”

Her glare warms by a small degree. But she doesn’t relent. “Why don’t you like her?”

Your lips part. You’ve been backed into a corner.

You have to answer. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know,” She parrots, voice low and disbelieving. Accusatory. Her head tilts, grey irises inspecting every inch of your face. “I don’t believe you.” She shakes her head. “Try again.”

“I don’t know if I can tell you.” You rephrase. “If I should tell you.”

Immediately, she pushes off the counter and grows closer. Her hands fall into the front pockets of her jeans, neck hanging to look down at you. Your jaw locks shut, keeping you from speaking and saying anything more. Sevika stays that way for a long time, never really moving any closer but also never pulling away.

When you break your gaze, you notice that her hands are working their way in and out of fists. 

“Will you let me apologize to you first?” You ignore the bobbing of your achy throat and the burning of your eyes. You can't cry. That won't solve anything.

“You already did.”

“Well, I truly am sorry.”

“I heard.”

“And I’ve missed you.”

The corner of her lip twitches. “It’s barely been 24 hours.”

“Still missed you.”

She hums. Acknowledgement. That’s a good sign. 

“I have a tendency to, uh, overreact sometimes.” You clear your throat. “I was being really fucking ridiculous. An idiot. I mean, really, I realize how unnecessary this all was and that we’re too old for this.”

Another moment of hesitation lapses into the conversation. It’s not as heavy as before, but still intensifies the standstill that you two have reached. 

“I’m sorry.” You add. 

Those words, a cry in your throat, have been haunting you all day.

You’ve never been the sort of individual to apologize easily.

But right now, as you stand in front of Sevika, you realize that it’s as effortless as blinking. 

You’ll apologize for the rest of the night if she asks you to.

“You’re an idiot. You know that right?” There’s a smile playing at Sevika’s lips. She reaches forward and pinches your nose; something that she likes to do to annoy you. You groan as you try to breathe through your mouth. 

“I’m the worst idiot ever,” The tone of your voice is now disgustingly nasally. “Who's incredibly sorry and will do anything to ma-”

“If you keep apologizing, I’ll burn your toast tomorrow morning.”

“Oh no. Burnt toast. How frightening.”

In the morning, your toast is warm and spread with butter. Your tea is sweeter than usual too. 

The 9 o’clock news plays on the kitchen television.

You hold onto your mug tightly. Sevika is beside you, the sound of her even breaths reminding you of the beauty in sweet, suspenseless mornings. 

You blink through heavy eyelids, muscles still fatigued when she turns to you and says, “Will you apologize to Monica too?”

And you’re slightly gutted by that. 

It’s a question that you knew she’d ask. 

It’s a reasonable thing to want.

But still…

You’d be lying if you said that this entire predicament didn’t make you feel sick.

But you have no one to blame other than yourself. 

This is the sensible solution.

“Yes,” You respond, giving her one short nod. “I’ll apologize to her.”

And you do.

The first half of the apology begins with a terrible pot of Chili that you try to make as a peace offering. You manage to botch it half way through. 

Sevika ends up helping. Everytime she peers at your face, she snickers. At one point, you catch her muttering that she, “Doesn’t know what to do with you.”

When Monica arrives, it’s awkward. You stand off to the side as Sevika hugs and kisses her. Then, when Monica turns to you, you give her a small smile and wave. Her greeting isn’t nearly as cordial, which says a lot. But you figure that you deserve it. After all, you haven't been very welcoming to her.

When Sevika leaves momentarily—to buy some beer from the store—you take that as an opportunity to apologize. Monica is scrolling on her phone silently, sitting in one of the dining room chairs.

She peers up at you with large eyes when you approach her. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, which is mostly my fault. And I’m really sorry for that. Do you think, maybe, we can start over?”

She regards you for a few moments, jaw clenching and unclenching before she says, “I accept your apology.”

Your smaller smile stretches into a bigger one. 

“But,” She adds. “I think that it was truly unfair that you didn't give me a proper chance to know you. At first, I thought it was me. I realize now that it has everything to do with Vika, and I think that's sad. I think that she probably shouldn't be staying with someone who is willing to impede on her happiness so much. But I also think,” Her lips tug into the ghost of a smirk. “That if I was in love with my roommate and had to watch her find happiness with another woman, that I too would become bitter.

“So, yes, I accept your apology.” Monica continues. “But I hope you can understand that I have no desire to be friends with you. We can be cordial on Vika’s behalf. But only that.”

Your thumb absentmindedly fiddles with the plate of your belt. You wonder, for the umpteenth time, how you've gotten yourself into such a predicament. And it almost feels like a flock of self-wallowing birds are surrounding you at that moment. You bear through the pitiful feeling nonetheless and give her a curt nod.

“Okay,” You respond. “Cordial is fine with me.”

Later in the night, when Mel has left and Sevika bolts the door shut, she asks, “How did the apology go?”

You hesitate for a moment, brain replaying all of the words that Monica spewed. You feel a familiar weight press into the center of your chest, and your skin prickles as realization dawns on you. 

But you can't allow Sevika to pick up on it. You can allow her to see you like this. So you clear your throat and blink through blurry vision.

“It went well.” You pull your blanket up to your chin, stretching your legs out on the living room recliner. “She accepted it.”

The fridge opens. You hear shuffling.

“That's great!”

Yeah.

Great.

“You know I love you,” Mel begins. “But what the fuck.”

You wince, bracing yourself for the reprimanding that is sure to come. This is the very reason why you’ve been avoiding telling Mel everything that has happened. Usually you are able to talk to her about dilemmas that you’ve put yourself in. But something about this feels different. Besides the fact that you almost royally fucked up your friendship with Sevika, there’s another emotion lingering within you–something heavier–that’s been making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

You take another bite into your pizza, allowing your silence to be an answer within itself.

“I think we need to address the elephant in the room,” Mel says. 

You're shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. You already know where this is going. 

“There’s nothing to address.”

“From the first night I introduced you to Sev, when you were giggling with her on the couch like a schoolgirl—”

“Oh my god.”

“I spotted it from day 1, that you two being roommates would either end really great or…really badly.”

“Mel,” Your eyes squint shut once more as you grimace. “No. It’s not like that.”

“How else could it be? You put two lesbians that want to fuck each other in the same apartment and all hell breaks loose.”

“She has a girlfriend.”

“Which just makes it worse!” An incredulous chuckle leaves her as she begins to rub her temples. She’s sitting in the recliner chair in the corner of the living room while you’re sprawled out on the loveseat.

Sevika is at work, which has given you the perfect opportunity to catch up with Mel. And despite the fact that you hate how candid Mel’s being, you know that you need to hear it.

She’s always been your voice of reason.

“Are you going to say something to her?” You mumble, gazing up at the ceiling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her shift in the chair. She hugs her knees to her chest. 

“Of course not. You need to figure out whatever the hell this is without any meddlers.”

You shrug. “I wouldn't mind a little bit of meddling.”

“You're doing that thing where you ignore your emotions until you absolutely can't anymore.” Mel sighs. “Unless you want shit to blow up in your face for real, I suggest you come to terms with your feelings towards Sevika and find a way to deal with them. Healthily.”

She’s right.

A huff leaves you. “I prefer my way, you know…”

She snorts. “Your way will have you roommate-less and heartbroken.”

“...You really think Sev would leave? Permanently?”

“Well, I don't know.” She feigns shock, palm sprawling across her chest. “It's not like I haven't known Sevika through the in’s and outs of her parents death and real estate issues, and divorce. No—I totally have no idea that she’s been through enough—”

Your body shoots up. “Wait.”

“...You're right. You should asolutely continue to terrorize her girlfriend and be, quite possibly, the worst roommate that could ever happen to her. For fucks sake babe. Wake up! I mean, truly, after everything she’s been through, don’t you think she deserves—”

“Mel.” 

“...If I was her, I would have packed my bags too. I love you. But do you realize how infuriating you can be? I thought I psychoanalyzed you enough in our friendship but clearly it hasn't been very eff—”

“Mel!” Your voice cracks, embarrassingly so, which causes you to clear your throat. 

Your brain begins to short circuit as you try to hold onto the remnants of all the information she's just fed you. It processes and processes, and your world spins around you. You feel like you’ve just found the last wedge of a 500 piece puzzle; the full picture is finally complete.

“Sevika’s divorced?”

You never would have thought that Sevika was a romantic. Not romantic enough to be married, at least. And surely, not a divorcee. She’s tight lipped about a few things, her past relationships being one of them, but you always chalked it up to the possibility of her being reserved. 

It's a weird feeling to be shocked by such a revelation. It's merely a divorce. 

But you feel like that piece of information holds weight. 

Because Sevika has told you a lot of things, including the intricate details of her parents death, yet has seemed to leave out the entire fact that she’s been married.

For some reason, she hasn't wanted you to discover that part of herself.

That's all the more reason why you feel guilty. Because, not only have you found it out, but Mel is the one to have told you. Surely, that wouldn't make Sevika feel the best.

“You didn't know that?” Mel looked at you with an odd expression.

“No,” You were feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. 

Mel’s response was delayed. She gazed at you further, eyebrows furrowing and lips frowning, before she muttered, “Oh.”

Then she dropped the subject, probably because she didn't want to accidentally spill any more of Sevika’s secrets to you.

Later that night, Alicia is invited over for dinner. She walks in with two bottles of wine and a cheeky grin. She hugs you obnoxiously tight.

“I see that you and Sev finally made up!” She exclaims. This calls for a celebration! Hip! Hip-”

“Ugh,” You groan. “Really, A?”

“Yeah, seriously, hun.” Mel interrupts. “The energy’s a bit too much. Can you lower it a few notches?”

Something bad must have happened.

There’s that feeling in the pit of your stomach materializing again; a horrible mixture of panic and existential dread.

And that feeling spikes when a loud horn sounds. It's painfully close; close enough to split your eardrums in half.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Hello? Oh my god. Are you okay?”

For some reason, that question isn't enough to alert you. You're too focused on the blur of colors you're seeing. 

“Hello?”

You lean back against your seat and the blaring horn comes to a halt. You had been laying on your steering wheel.

Then you remember it all at that moment.

You were supposed to be going to the store. You had convinced Sevika to stay home because she had been doing the bulk of the chores lately and that was making you feel guilty. It had only been three weeks since the two of you made up, but you found yourself still wanting to apologize to her in the smallest ways.

You were driving with your window down and had come to a four-way stop. A butterfly fluttered towards you and perched itself on your nose.

It was a vibrant orange butterfly, with bold black stripes and white dots. After that, everything began to grow fuzzy. Were you supposed to be moving? Your foot was on the gas but you hadn't remembered moving it there. You must have been moving. You weren’t paying attention. You should have been, but you weren’t. The butterfly had distracted you.

Pretty soon, a car was hurtling towards you on your right, too fast to be able to slow down. The both of you crashed.

Now, the driver is standing right outside your vehicle, trying to gain your attention.

“Are you okay?” They call again.

You blink once more. Subconsciously, you try to bring your right arm up to your face. Nothing happens.

You lift your left hand to your face, sighing in relief when a pair of callused fingers fall directly onto your eyes. You’re still alive.

“Are you alright? Please answer me.”

Another knock.

“I’m calling 911.”

You don’t like hospitals.

One time, your mom had taken you to the ER due to severe stomach pains. You were 12 years old. It felt like someone was trying to slice your belly open with a machete. You spent hours in the waiting room doubling over and clutching your stomach. Your mom sat beside you, lips permanently pulled into a thin line. She went on about how much of an inconvenience this night had been; that she was tired from working a 12 hour shift and was hungry. She also threw in a comment about how much this ER appointment would financially cost.

The longer you both sat in the waiting room, the more agitated she became.

“I can't catch a break.” She had muttered. You struggled to understand if she was angry at you or anxious for you. Or maybe she was projecting due to the long day she had at work. You didn't fully know. All you could recognize was that she was in some kind of distress. “I just hope nothing serious is going on.” Then her hand fell to your back, lightly rubbing circles into it.

Your eyes prickled with tears during that moment. But you didn't know if it was due to the pain or the immense guilt you felt for incurring a hospital bill.

The stomach pains eventually began to subside after that. Once a health professional was ready to see you, the pain was quite tolerable. You even struggled to push away the fit of giggles you felt every time the doctor skimmed her fingers across your tummy; feeling for “tenderness.”

After being questioned by her, she told your mom you had trapped gas and dismissed you.

Your mom had been angry. It took a few weeks before she stopped berating you about the amount of money her and dad would have to pay the hospital for “something as simple as trapped gas.”

You weren't sure if she was mad at you or the hospital. Your mom often grew upset like that but you could never quite understand who she meant to direct her feelings to. After those weeks passed, you began to assume yourself as the fault for most of her moods.

The following month, you dealt with really bad stabs of pain in your legs. Everytime you wanted to open your mouth to tell your mom, you were instead flooded with memories from the night you had trapped gas. Then you would close your mouth and count to 50 to try and block out the pain. 

Any health concern after that was something that you tried to ignore. Whether it was illnesses or crying spells, you often hid in your room until you could collect yourself. Then you would re-emerge in the living room where Mom and Dad often were.

By the age of 14, it took you a while to notice your body cues. It was sophomore year of highschool when Tasha Koshman, one of your classmates, accidentally broke your left ankle during the soccer unit of P.E. She was 6 foot and 2 inches.  Tasha had one of the strongest bodies you had ever seen—pure muscle—and was one of the star players on the varsity football team. During the soccer game, she tried to kick the ball into the goal. But instead, she missed and her foot slammed right into your ankle. You heard a snap. There was a sharp pain—and then nothing at all. You fell to the ground.

Tasha carried you–bridal style–to the nurse’s office. She wouldn't shut up the entire time. Her eyes swimmed with worry, and a combination of sweat and tears dripped from her chin and onto your shirt. 

You supposed it was a bit freaky for her to know that she could do such a thing to another human without even trying. She apologized profusely during that 8 minute walk across campus.

“There, there.” You mumbled. You used your left hand to pat her shoulder reassuringly. This was how you often saw TV characters consoling one another on shows. “Don’t worry. The bone will heal back together eventually.”

The creases in her forehead deepened.

Tasha cried harder.

You knew it was bad that you didn't feel much of the pain. But finding out the reason for that meant another healthcare visit and therefore another bill. 

Your parents definitely wouldn't appreciate that.

You were 22 when you met Mel. She worked at the same elementary school that you were volunteering at. She was one of the administrators in the front office.

The work relationship between you two developed into a budding friendship, and then a perfect roommate dynamic.

Throughout the ten years of Mel being your roommate, she never made fun of you for crying. In fact, you have her to thank for identifying your emotional constipation.

Mel also was the one who’d take you to the doctor whenever you’d fall ill. She was annoyingly maternal the entire time and probably lectured you a bit too much. It was something you were skeptical of at first. But you soon grew to be fond of it because you knew that it came from a place of love.

She'd usually never leave your side until you felt better.

You never told her, but gestures like that meant the world to you. 

"Does this hurt you at all?" The doctor asks you. She's staring at you with big and round brown eyes. Her eyelashes are coated with electric blue mascara. Pretty.

Outside the room, there’s a rush of loud screaming sounds. The word intubate gets passed around by a pair of voices. The interruption fades just as quickly as it comes.

You hum unintelligibly. Your blinks are slow as your gaze drags down to the way her pudgy fingers delicately feel for injuries.

"Hm." You pause, thoroughly thinking through her question. Are you hurting? "I'm not sure."

There’s a couple of cheesy posters on the walls about the importance of mental health. A bottle of soda sits on a countertop beside the sink. 

"Okay." The doctor stares at you for a few more seconds. “Well nothing is broken. All of our scans have come back with no results of serious trauma. Your body is in shock right now. Sometimes I have patients that feel absolutely nothing during a crisis. The brain is able to block out the signals that the body sends during those moments. Isn't that remarkable? Anyways, the adrenaline will probably wear off soon. Victims of car accidents usually encounter some fatigue and muscle aches for a while afterwards. You'll need to have pain medication for then."

When Mel comes flying through the door, she’s sporadic, seemingly out of breath and frazzled. 

Tears stream down her cheeks as she rushes towards you. "Oh my god!" 

“I’m okay.”

Despite your reassurance, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into a bone crushing hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay,” You parrot, this time gentler. You can’t blame her. 

You had called her on the way to the ER and briefly told her what happened. You couldn’t say much because you were still so shaken up, so she was only able to understand a generalization of the car accident. If the roles were reversed, you’d be just as frantic.

“Nothing’s broken,” You continue. Your voice wavers but you figure that’s a normal reaction in a situation like this. “I’m waiting for the doctor to come back. She had to get something… I can’t remember. It was so much information.”

Mel pulls away, cradling your cheeks with the palms of her hands. Her eyes are bloodshot and her bottom lip is split from being chapped. “You scared us so badly. Do you have any idea what Sevika is putting herself through right now?” Then she grimaces and stops herself, gaze unfocusing from you.

Your breathing falters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…’ You struggle to blink away the tears. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I wasn’t in the right state of mind when I had called you. I just knew that I needed to reach out to someone in case it was serious, I didn-”

“I know, I know.” She pulls you in for another hug. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry. You just,” Her voice grows thin and she tightens her grip around you. The squeeze almost knocks you breathless but you don’t have the heart to say anything. “I was scared.”

“I get it.” You swallow thickly, hoping that it’ll help to dissolve the lump at the back of your throat. 

The door opens and an ivory-white lab coat comes back into view. The doctor smiles at the pair of you, greeting you by your full name once more. She’s carrying a clipboard in one hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. She mutters a small hi to Mel when she reaches your bed, then she begins jotting something down on the clipboard. “I’m going to send your paperwork over to your GP so they can review everything. I want you to do a check up with him next week, just to make sure everything is okay.” Swiftly, she places the pen back into her coat pocket and sets the clipboard on the edge of the bed. “If you start to feel any excessive sleepiness, confusion or troubles with balance, please come back immediately.”  

When you’re released, Mel helps you walk back to the waiting room where Alicia and Sevika are apparently waiting. 

You’re grateful to have a friend like her by your side. You don’t quite know what you’d do without Mel; you don’t know how you would have gotten through life if you hadn’t met her at all. 

Her arm around you is firm as she guides you through the hospital traffic. Nurses are rushing back and forth between rooms. Curtains are being drawn unexpectedly and there’s even a distant screech from someone. The air reeks of bleach and despair. 

You want to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Just down this way.” Mel croaks. Her voice is hoarse from crying so hard. 

“Mel,” You begin. “I want to thank you.”

“Not here.”

“You know I don’t have anyone else. You’re my family. You know that, right?”

The door squeaks as she pushes it open. Her eyes are swimming again, gaze avoiding yours, and throat bobbing from swallowing thickly. “I know.” She squeezes you once more. “You’re mine too.”

You rest one of your hands over hers and return the gesture. 

The waiting room is filled with people who display similar variations of distress. Alicia is the first one that you recognize. She’s wearing one of her trademark flannels, leaning against the wall while staring up at the ceiling. Her foot is tapping exceptionally fast; hands balled into fists. That’s when you realize that this is the first time you’ve ever seen her look so…grave.

Sevika sits beside her in a chair. At least–the figure looks like Sevika. It’s hard for you to know for sure. The woman is hunched over, head in her hands, and body cloaked by a black trench coat. The coat is familiar. Her hands, which cling to the roots of her hair, are what stand out to you the most.

Alicia see’s you before Sevika, and pushes off the wall with a heavy exhale. “Thank God.”

Mel let’s go as the two of you draw closer to them. Sevika’s head shoots up upon your arrival, eyes locking with yours instantly.

They’re bloodshot red. 

Just that sight alone causes something to unwind within you. The knot between your shoulder blades loosen and that ache around your ribcage dissipates. That nagging feeling of danger withdraws and is replaced with unbearable tugging. 

Your eyes flood. 

Sevika reaches for you, as if she knows, as if she senses the tugging herself. “Fuck.” Her lips barely move, voice laced with sickening horror and relief. “You-” Her breathing stutters.

She stands to her feet, hands wrapping around both of your wrists and pulling you towards her. Your heart refuses to calm down. 

Her voice is so quiet that you barely notice it, “You’re here.” When she embraces you, your ear presses against her chest. She’s firm. All firmness.

“I’m here.” The burning in your eyes return and the tears threaten to spill over.

This time, you let them.

Chewing your tongue, you hold your breath and fiddle with the material of your comforter. 

You’re hanging on the edge of panic. The air around you feels too thin. 

Your forehead gathers with pools of sweat, as well as the back of your neck. And a shiver runs through you, despite feeling pure heat all throughout your veins.

“What the fuck, Vika!”

“It just…” Sevika mumbles. There’s a small lapse of silence. Then, “It’s just not working out.”

Your nerves are shot.

You want to bang your head against the wall. Not that it will help. But you want to do something–anything. This is not what you expected to hear when Sevika told you that Monica would be stopping by for a brief visit. She had slipped into your room to tell you, barely giving you a chance to respond and barely looking you in the eyes, before leaving and closing your bedroom door. 

It’s only been a day since the accident and you've never seen Sevika so frayed. She barely left your side last night. And when you finally went to sleep, you’d wake to the sound of her occasionally peeping into your room before she’d subsequently head back to her own.

Sevika is a pretty caring friend.

But she never hovers.

Well–not until now.

“What has changed?” You hear Monica ask. Her voice is muffled from the thickness of the walls. But you’re still able to pick up on how rigid it sounds. “Have I done something wrong? Is it because of what we talked about the other night? If so, I was just joking. Kids are only something I’d want if my part-”

“It’s…” Sevika’s voice is lower than Monica’s. Quieter. You try to crane your neck to hear better. “I would like to explain it all. There’s a few reasons why-”

“Is it because of her?”

Your blood runs backward at the accusation. 

Shuffling happens from the other room.

The sound of footsteps draw closer to your room.

“Don’t.” You hear Sevika say.

“Is she here?”

“Monica–”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me, Sevika! I can’t…I won’t do this with her here.”

More shuffling. 

The footsteps direct their pace away from your door. You hadn’t even realized that your muscles were tensing until they relax.

“This is unbelievable,” Monica adds. Her voice has raised several decibels, borderline yelling. “Are you fucking her?”

“I’m not–Jesus Christ. I’m not sleeping with her. Let’s talk and I’ll tell you all the reasons–”

“I’m not talking with her here.”

“Then let’s go somewhere else. I’ll drive?”

There’s no reply.

“I’ll explain it all, I swear.” Sevika continues. “I just…I need to be honest with you.”

Dust swirls the air around you as the sun shines through your window. It’s only 10 A.M. It’s only a Tuesday morning.

Two days into the week and so much has already happened.

You sigh, pulling your blanket over your shoulders some more, as you try to register everything that you’re hearing. Sevika wants to break up with Monica? So suddenly? 

You’d be lying if you said that you aren’t surprised. 

If you were Monica, you’d be gutted. 

You jump, completely startled, by your door barging open. Sevika stands in the doorway, dressed fully in her coat and boots. She’s clipping her carabiner to one of her belt loops, brows furrowed and eyes searching yours desperately. Words have run out.

She knows that you’ve heard it all.

“Sev,” It’s a broken mumble since you’re still groggy. 

She shakes her head. “I’ll explain when I come back.”

You watch her slip her phone into her back pocket. It makes no sense, the way that life has seemed to flip upside down for the both of you; the way that this past month consisted of more chaos than you’ve ever experienced before.

And yet that tugging from yesterday still remains. But this time, tenfold stronger. So strong that it’s a separate being within itself. Rather than a feeling, it’s become second nature. It takes every fiber in your being to ignore it.

“Why today?” You find yourself countering.

Her lips part, irises burning a silver-fire. The kind of silver that you’d bury yourself in forever if you could. 

“I’ll be back soon.” This response is all that she can give for now.

It’s the respectful thing to do.

Monica deserves to hear the answer first; she deserves to hear it without you there.

You understand. “Okay.” 

She hovers again. For a few more seconds. “Okay.” She echoes.

You can only stare when she leaves.

And when the apartment door slams shut, you're left to sit there and ponder over what the fuck has just happened.

[tmntaucompetition]

Okay I think I was able to fix everything!

Below the cut are the matchups in text form! Also please let me know if I did mess anything up.

At My Worst + The Lonely Buzz in Blue VS Mama's Boys -> Gemini Twins

Feral Leo VS Little Scraps of Wisdom

Ghost in the Shell VS SnapDonnie + The Likeness of Mirrored Souls

I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? + Wouldn't it be Easier? VS Little Subjects

Finding Home + Death Wish VS TMNT: Shen and the League of Lesbians + No Crime, Only Brooches -> Rattrap

Snapdragon + Is This Right? VS Battle Scars

Open Your Shell to Find Your Wings VS TMNT: Omniverse

100 FT and a World Away + Forgive Me VS Happily Ever After

Honor Bound VS Even More of a Disaster -> Bad End Ninja Turtles

The Last Ronin Becomes a Discord Admin VS Life Goes On

Age Gao VS Hello, Clairvoyant? + Rabbit's Broach

Villain Leo AU VS Kid Leo AU

Twinpathy VS Replica -> TMT Croc Pot

True Colors VS Kendratello Childhood AU + August AU

Crusade of a Lonely Turtle VS Minor Interference

The Employees + Turtles All the Way Down VS Empyrean Weeping

Sep!Leo AU VS Two Arms Left -> REBOOT: A Second Chance

Portal Baby VS Sidelined + FIrefight

Reptile Rampage VS Wanderer -> Dimension Hopper Leo

The Neon Void VS Live Life + No Fun in Fungus

Snapper Lou VS Universes + The Unicorn Paradox -> Swanatello

Please Don't Leave Me + Lone Hunter & Turtle VS Tabletop Turtles

Remember Forever VS Aberration

Twin-Sync (More Than You Think) VS Mitosis + Minecraft Isekai -> Spider-Lily

Hues of Mystic Neon VS Until I Found You

Teenage Mutant Meddling Turtles VS Sorry I'm Late

Ktech + The Mutation Situation VS Blood is Thicker Than Ooze

Grown Apart VS UPRISING: A Dystopia AU -> The Little Prince

Surp-Rise! VS TMNT 04

Red Rover VS Teenage Mutant Warrior Cats

Tiz Separated AU VS Rise of the Parallel

psst! The arrows in some of them indicate a somewhat bonus round, so those will all happen before the official round two. think of them as round 1.5 :D

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Lies that Bind

Raw Knowles: we've got a real banger of a story for you tonight April Yates: real banger Knowles: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, we call this the tale of the disaster lesbians Yates: real disasters, these two Yates: possibly the biggest

Knowles: so there's these two lesbians who run a fake seance scam Edward Lee: bro i don't care about any fake seance scam Lee: i just have one question Knowles: ah yes to answer your question, yes they do Yates: A LOT Lee: Lee: bro

Knowles: so these lesbians, let me tell you Knowles: you know lesbian bed death? Lee: yeah Knowles: imagine the opposite of that Lee: Lee: bro Yates: that's what I'm talkin' about!

Knowles: unfortunately these lesbians are having issues in the bedroom Yates: communication issues Knowles: cuz you know women Yates: they just can't ever sit down and talk things out like rational adults

Knowles: and then this mysterious woman comes into their lives Yates: a mysterious woman with a shady past and a hidden agenda Yates: and an irresistibly magnetic sexual power Patricia Highsmith: oh yeah there ain't nothin' like a dame!

Knowles: this mysterious woman claims to be friends w a man who can help the one lesbian with her terrible secret Yates: and that man is aleister crowley Crowley: Yeah! that's me! Crowley: THE GREAT BEAST! Crowley: DO AS THOU WILT! Lee: bro, sit down, i wanna hear about lesbians

Knowles: the women are helpless in the thrall of this predatory lesbian Highsmith: oh that's a shame, that's a real shame Highsmith: you're a real high class dame, ya know Knowles: i Knowles: oh um thank you Highsmith: you're a real swell lady too, real swell Yates: haha oh you

Highsmith: now i wouldn't wanna get between you two ladies Highsmith: not in the emotional sense, that is Highsmith: if you get my drift Knowles: tee hee Yates: ha ha Lee: bro! we were gonna hear about lesbians- Highsmith: back off, Lee, i'm workin' here!

Highsmith: so just what sorta things might these two, uh, fictional ladies you're talkin about be hypothetically into? Knowles: oh you know Knowles: bondage, choking Yates: breathplay, bloodplay, knifeplay Highsmith: uh huh uh huh gotcha Highsmith: and what's your safeword?

Crowley: hey when are we gonna get to the part about me? Crowley: everyone should be asking 'when's the great beast gonna show up?' Highsmith: hey, pal, just cool it on down Highsmith: let the ladies get a little attention, eh? Crowley: Crowley: [sulking] i want attention too

Barker: what's that, aleister? you say you'd like some attention too? Barker: gee i never would have guessed Barker: from that gigantic flaming eye pyramid hat you're wearing Crowley: it's Crowley: It's a cool hat!! Barker: hm it's a little try hard Poe: it kinda is

[if-mommy-issues-could-talk]

WHAT’S UP, MY BEAUTIFUL WITCHES?

Hi my name is Marlene (dont wear it out) She/her, but sometimes they/them.

I’m a Gryffindor, gay (and hot) as hell, and living for all things fun! I’m all about that bold and eccentric makeup—if it’s not loud, I’m not wearing it. 🎸💄

Greek-English, half blood but raised muggle by my dad (love you baba<3).

I like: my friends, having fun, makeup/clothes/jewellery(big-ass earrings), chocolate, reading, playing my guitar.

If I like you, you’ll know it (trust me), and if I don’t… well, you'll know that too

I dislike: homework, assholes, prejudiced people, having to do boring things.

People I know:

@fkufather Barty, haven't talked to him (UPDATE: he is concerning to say the least but also like a total cutie pie)

@une-rose-de-sang Evan, haven't talked to him yet but we'll see, (UPDATE psychopath honestly but cool)

@in-need-of-a-femininomenon Lily- my bestie since year one, she's very fun to hang around with, couldn't ask for a better friend. Very mindful very demure is her definition lol ( as long as she isn't angry at you. She's scary then)

@sunshine-prongsie-boy James- used to call him an ass because Lily said he was one but now she says hes cool so we'll see. (Update: hes is a little teddy bear)

@pianist-and-poet Regulus- haven't talked to him yet, can respect his "no fucks given" attitude. Plus he likes music, so. (UPDATE: we're on okay terms. He seems nice)

@xen0-l0vg00d haven't talked to him but he has a pet salamander which is like super cool ( UPDATE still haven't talked to him a lot, but like, id die for him, he's adorable.)

@i-swear-im-not-joking SIRIUS! My partner in crime, the only one to match my levels of dramatic hes very cool. Though I didn't talk to him much for the first few years since yk lilly used to hate him and his friend group. She even tried to drown him once. He looked like a wet dog honestly

@fates-and-flowers Pandora. She seems cool i guess. Haven't really talked to her

Remus- @r0muluslupin he's nice. Always gas the best chocolate.

Dorcas- @dorcas-is-the-best ugh 🙄only putting her here cause apparently it would be too rude not to. She's fine I suppose. Adequate at quidditch. Someone might even say shes quite good. thought not nearly good enough to warrant her username. She also has a bit of a stick up her arse. But my friends like her. Smh for some reason. (Ooc not her giving the person she "hates" a bigger description than her friends)

We are maybe, sort off, kinda dating?????

Ooc:

I do not support Rowling or her views. This is a rp account if you don't like it dni

My main is @lesbian-disaster-tm

Join at @thatonemaraudersrp