#all that being said please do donate to people in need its an important thing to do

[maletomboy]

ill be honest what some people are calling "compassion fatigue" might just be ocd

[born-in-hell]

Hi!

As some of you might know, southern Brazil, specifically the state of Rio Grande do Sul, has been struck by heavy rains and a consequential flood. The rains started on monday (29/abr) and only stopped today (5/mai), in Porto Alegre ─ the state capital, and the city i live in ─ and in the other cities nearby.

The lake that borders PoA (named Guaíba) has reached more than 5m up its normal level. This is higher than on the historic 1941 flood. The city's center ─ a big residential and commercial hub, beyond being the host of most of our public services (such as the city hall and the state government) ─ is completely taken by the water. Many other neighbourhoods were also affected.

Smaller cities that also border Guaíba were even more heavily affected, such as Eldorado do Sul, whose territory was almost 100% flooded.

The state is, for a lack of a better word, abandoned by the people that were supposed to aid.

Our governor, Eduardo Leite, is more worried about his plitical campaign ─ making dramatic videos, changing his facebook pfp to one of him with a public defense vest, making streams with no useful information ─ than with the people's lives. This year, he destinated only R$50.000 (~ USD250.000) for the Civil Defense. For the entire year. He is now, delegating the responsibility of recuperating our state to the Federal Government, stating that "the rbuilding of the RS will demand a Marshall Project".

Porto Alegre's mayor, Sebastião Mello, has vanished. He sold our city out to big enterprises ─ Melnick, Zaffari and Panvel, mainly ─, and hasn't destined any public resources to maintaining the Mauá wall (a wall built after the 1941 flood with a system made to protect the city from other floods), which caused many points to fail and the water to invade the city.

This is the danger we all face with a neoliberal system.

Neoliberalism is an individualist ideology. All these people and companies I named did close to nothing to help us. Or even made it worse. The Civil Defense, for example, published a map of all the areas that would be affected, but had to take it back, since it didn't consider the topography.

Its the people for the people.

This situation is being aided by people using their own resources. Donations of various natures and volunteer work. It is very beautiful, in a way. It shows that colaboration and union can do great things. It shows, at least to me, that the world can reach, one day, a self sustaining way of living, contrary to the ultra-individualistic capitalism some preach. Humans can, and are, good.

But it also lays out how much the people that govern us failed us.

Human lives were lost because of their negligency.

This flood isn't normal. It is a product of the huge levels of degradation multi-billionaire companies are causing the world, supported by higher class and their representatives. Eduardo Leite changed almost 500 points of our state's Environmental Code, for the worst, when he was first elected in 2019. His actions, and the actions of all other neoliberal politicians, such as our ex-president Bolsonaro, are what created this situation. They are responsible for everything that is going on here.

This flood isnt the only environmental crisis this state has faced in the last 6 months. This isn't the last one that will happen.

This text is, beyond a personal vent, a warning. We need to keep fighting against a system that is actively trying to kill us. Please, do not support ideals and people ─ especially if said people will rule you ─ that go against the environment, that preach that the capital, the money, the posesions, are more important than lives. Of the people, of the animals, of the environment. Fight for a better world, i know there can be one.

Always be aware of the climate in your areas. Things like this won't happen only here. Please be safe.

Sorry for the long post.

If you're interested in donating, @decaf-lesbian made this post with some links for international and national donations.

-> If you're from Brasil, check this link, that has a copilation of maps of risk areas, shelters, places to donate to, etc, made by a UFRGS student.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Look, This is gonna be one of those things that sounds bad until you read the whole story. Please don't read the title and go to 'yta' without reading.

AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

Look, My brother ISNT trans. He likes to wear kilts and sew, Which is what kind of started all of this. My brother is NOT trans, He loves being a boy (trust me, I can hear him enjoying being a boy in his room all the time. Theres no way he'd wanna chop it off(I mean this as a joke I don't actually know how the surgery works), He's told me multiple times that being told by others what he likes is 'feminine' and 'girly' upsets him because he's proud of being a boy and doesn't like being called a girl. Its not because he hates girls or thinks less of them, He just does not like being called the wrong gender which I'm sure you want to be called the correct gender too.)

Anyways lets begin. I (16F) am my little brothers (15M) best friend, Basically. We grew up together and do everything together, Including sewing. I liked it when I was younger, And eventually convinced him to try it as well. He loved it, And we love just sitting together and making random crap we usually end up selling at our yearly garage sale. (Our mom makes us sell all our unneeded crap every year, But we aren't complaining when we make like $100 for it, Mom and dad even help us figure out what we actually wanna keep (we sometimes see old things and go 'Oh I could never get rid of this' and then throw it away))

Sorry for the rambling, But you'll see why some of this is important to know.

Basically, We were getting our shit together for the garage sale, And invited over a mutual friend of ours, Who I'll call uhhh Ley (16F). Shes kind of obsessed with the LGBTQ and loves to help people 'realize' they're gay or trans or non-binary. By this I mean she'll literally bully people she 'knows' is gay or trans by always telling them they are and spreading rumors about them saying they are. The way she 'knows' these things are from gut feelings. I thought maybe she needed friends who would be honest with her and tell her gently that it needed to stop. She stopped being so bad with it and we even convinced her to admit to the rumors she started being fake. We've known her for around 3 years now, And she's stopped doing it as aggressively for 2 of those years. She still makes jabs and 'jokes' saying things like "Oh thats so girly, Are you sure you're not trans?" and "Oh thats such a boy thing to do, Are you a lesbian?", Both quotes she's said to me and my brother less than a week ago. I am straight and cis, So is my brother. We have nothing against the lgbt, We just aren't apart of it. We support the lgbtq as much as possible (with my part time job I like to donate some of my paycheck towards point of pride so people who need the surgeries or binders can get them), And are very open about supporting them.

While we were cleaning out my brothers room and finding stuff to throw into the 'sell' box (we like to do precleaning before our parents help us, It makes everything faster and less work on the people trying to help), And Ley found my brothers kilt. She did a long exaggerated gasp, Looking at my brother.

"So, How long have you been trans? Why didn't you tell me?? I knew it the whole time!"

My brother tried to explain that it was a kilt for men, And he wasn't trans, But she kept interrupting him saying crap like 'you don't have to lie I know now' and 'Its nothing to be embarrassed about, I knew ever since you started to sew'. The last straw for me was when she continued not listening to him and started to ask about how he was gonna come out as school. I yelled at her to get out, That neither of us were gay, Neither of us are trans, And neither of us are apart of any of the lgbtq. We are allies and nothing more. She tried to argue that he had a 'skirt' which OBVIOUSLY meant he was trans, I basically screamed at her that she was a stupid know it all who made everyone who wasn't apart of the lgbtq's life hell because she made sure everyone knew them as someone they arent (I know, I shouldn't of brought up 2 years in the past) and that I was tired of her trying to force everyone to be in the LGBTQ when its just not realistic. Not everyone is gay or trans, Some people are cis and straight. She started crying and left, We haven't spoken in a few days but I think I'm justified. I'm tired of living my life being told I'm something I'm not, I'm tired of seeing it happen to my brother too.

My brother later thanked me for standing up for him, Telling me it made him really upset when she said those things. To cheer him up we watched his favorite movies and I made him his favorite dinner (mom and dad both work day jobs so we both make lunch and dinner)

And for those who are gonna say that allies are apart of the LGBTQ I strongly believe the A is for aro/ace. Being an ally isn't a gender or sexuality

(unless people identify using ally/allyself of course or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure how neos work or whatever but I love to see how creative people get with it and am happy it gives people who don't identify with any of the normalized(? Idk the correct term but yknow the man woman and nb) genders a chance to be who they actually are)

Extra info on why I think I could be the asshole: I feel like we might've been able to explain it if we got her to shut up for a minute, But she kept talking over us. I feel like I went too far by insulting her, And I feel like I might be TA because she's also autistic (so is my brother though, And I have ADHD).

Why I think I'm NTA: My brother is really quiet and doesn't really defend himself often. He doesn't really know how to stand up for himself and is 'easy' to talk over (soft spoken, Quiet talking voice and nonconfrontational) which is why I believe I had to step in in his place, And I don't believe I did anything wrong defending my brother and making her stop calling him what hes not.

Anyways. AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

To see later: PINK PANTHER

What are these acronyms?

[elvain]

how i make sure the fundraisers i share are legit

i've seen numerous people in the past few weeks talk about how they never know if a fundraiser is legit, so they don't "risk" sharing or donating. while we all know there are villains out there who will take advantage of the genocide for their own gain, we also need to remember to take care of those who are really victims.

we have a humane duty to help every person who needs it, who approaches us for it. there is always a risk involved when you donate to "unofficial" campaigns online in any capacity, but using it as an excuse to avoid taking action for palestine is a moral failure.

that being said, i thought i'd make a small list of things i personally do before i donate/share fundraisers to make sure they are verified.

i check the notes of the reblogs on the fundraiser post. more often than not, i find a link to the verification or an actual verification. for example, 90-ghost, specifically, is one to reblog a post and verify its legitimacy. many tags also indicate where/when/if the campaign is verified.

i check palestinian blogs that have taken up this duty/responsibility/burden. nabulsi, 90-ghost, fallahifag, fairuzfan, el-shab-hussein, and palipunk are just a few off the top of my head.

i check the gaza funds spreadsheet for the family's name, which is an incredible resource. note: the numbers of the spreadsheet aren't always aligned for some reason (ie, #181 on the list can sometimes mean #184 on the spreadsheet). take the time to properly look through this list.

i check my own mutuals' blogs. many of us get the same people in our ask boxes and sometimes my friends have verified campaigns themselves or they have sources to verifications.

my resources/methods are not exhaustive or perfect. i don't even know if what i do is enough/worthy - but the important thing is that i do it.

it'll never be time to give up on palestine. please, let's all make sure we do our part in liberating our fellow humans that we may all one day enjoy the freedom and justice that we deserve.

[beesmygod]

teens and weird adults like me of tumblr, i am asking a favor of you: please arm yourself with the knowledge of how the Internet Archive National Emergency Library lending system operated prior to its dissolution so you are not bamboozled by the weird barrage of bizarre lies being spread about it. for a group of people who claim to love reading, none of the people criticizing it apparently bothered to actually look into how the archive functioned and are now willing to destroy one of the most important and valuable resources available to everyone, everywhere.

i’m going to try to make my case here, and i have no doubt there will be gnashing of teeth from people arguing the letter of the law over the spirit of it but i will address that as well. the “damage” done to publishers was near nonexistent but in exchange the publishers who have filed the lawsuit are willing to destroy the archive under the crushing weight of monetary punishment.

the Internet Archive is literally an online library and is recognized as a library by the state of california. it is not a pirate site.

you cannot download the books on the internet archive website. the only book available for download are those in the public domain. all other books can be checked out the same as you would check out any other e-book at any other brick and mortar library. you can borrow the book for 14 days. the books are protected with DRM and copyright protection to prevent theft.

the books online are purchased or donated, and then scanned. you can only borrow as many books as there are physical copies available at the library. so if there is one copy of war and peace  available as an e-book and i check it out, you will have to wait until i’m done with it to check it out yourself. this is slightly different than how regular libraries do it, but regular libraries are currently at war with publishers over e-books and how they fit into libraries.

the national emergency library was temporary. it was slated to last from march 24th to june 30th. it was made specifically in response to the pandemic.

the only change to the current process of book lending was the suspension of wait-lists. this means that for 3 months, multiple people could check out the same book for 14 days. they were able to accomplish this by using the collections from the phillips academy andover, marygrove college, and trent university. the statement from the Internet Archive includes this information:

During the waitlist suspension, users will be able to borrow books from the National Emergency Library without joining a waitlist, ensuring that students will have access to assigned readings and library materials that the Internet Archive has digitized for the remainder of the US academic calendar, and that people who cannot physically access their local libraries because of closure or self-quarantine can continue to read and thrive during this time of crisis, keeping themselves and others safe.  

... Public support for this emergency measure has come from over 100 individuals, libraries and universities across the world, including the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).  “Ubiquitous access to open digital content has long been an important goal for MIT and MIT Libraries. Learning and research depend on it,” said Chris Bourg, Director of MIT Libraries. “In a global pandemic, robust digital lending options are key to a library’s ability to care for staff and the community, by allowing all of us to work remotely and maintain the recommended social distancing.”

... A final note on calling this a “National Emergency” Library.  We lend to the world, including these books. We chose that language deliberately because we are pegging the suspension of the waitlists to the duration of the US national emergency.  Users all over the world have equal access to the books now available, regardless of their location.

ok, there are 2 things i want to address now:

the argument that by supporting this writers don’t make money: the fault for this does not and will never lay at the feet of librarians. after reading all of the above, i would find it very difficult to sincerely believe that an author’s royalty money was severely impacted by three months of 14 days library checkouts. we really cannot allow ourselves to start declaring libraries as our financial enemies because they allow the poor to access things they otherwise would not be able to access. institutions that make information freely available to the public need to be preserved at all costs (source: was librarian).

this is a fault in the publisher. the publisher is the one who profits the most from a book sale and the publisher is the one who is filing the lawsuit. the publishing industry is a group of leeches that cling to you as you slowly attempt to make a living.

a library does not hurt profits. a library is a public service.

even if you want to adhere to the letter of the law, i find it extremely difficult to condemn the actions of the internet archive. there was no financial reason for what they did, no malice and no ulterior motive. their national emergency library was a response to brick and mortar libraries being closed in the wake of a pandemic and shutting off a stream of information to people who needed it (especially students!). in response to catastrophe they stepped up and offered a solution. to condemn them under false pretenses (as many did, by calling it a pirate site and weirdly claiming you could download books an unlimited amount of times [?]) has been calamitous.

this was a huge post lol. if you really read this thank you. i hope it made sense. my motive for writing this is not bc i think writers should be poor and should work for free so don’t get it twisted (i draw a dumbass webcomic so i Get It). i just really like libraries and am really upset at the smear job this one got.

please donate to the internet archive.

[spine-buster]

Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒

CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. T͟h͟i͟s͟ ͟c͟h͟a͟p͟t͟e͟r͟ ͟s͟p͟e͟c͟i͟f͟i͟c͟a͟l͟l͟y͟ ͟h͟a͟s͟ ͟m͟e͟n͟t͟i͟o͟n͟s͟ ͟a͟n͟d͟ ͟d͟e͟a͟l͟s͟ ͟w͟i͟t͟h͟ ͟m͟i͟s͟c͟a͟r͟r͟i͟a͟g͟e͟ ͟a͟n͟d͟ ͟s͟e͟x͟u͟a͟l͟ ͟a͟s͟s͟a͟u͟l͟t͟.͟  Please be warned.

Word Count: 14,637

Please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page if you are able.  Link in my bio & Masterlist.

A/N:  “Courage” officially broke my record for most notes on a debut chapter, so thank you all so much for all your likes and reblogs!  This chapter is more serious in parts, but we get to see an evolving Effie and an evoling Effie/Matthew dynamic.  Enjoy!

                                                           *     *     *     *     *

Effie.  Her name was Effie.  And everybody knew it.  

Rachel was no more.  Rachel was a thing of the past and she was going to stay there.  Rachel was a person who had been hurt and abused.  Rachel was named by an abusive, violent, cruel, despicable tyrant who called himself Abraham and proclaimed he was a prophet.  Rachel was a girl with no voice, no agency, nothing to call her own.  Rachel was a girl who belonged to someone.

Effie was new.  Effie was her chosen name and a thing of the future.  Effie was a person learning to come to terms with her trauma after years of hurt and abuse.  Effie was name by herself, for herself, to reclaim her identity after years of it being denied to her.  Effie was a girl with a voice, agency, and even though she could only count a few things as her own, they were just that – her own.  Effie was a girl who belonged to nobody but herself.  

That was how she liked it.  

Naming herself instilled a new sense of confidence within her.  It was small, and it was gradual, but the people around her could notice it.  Matthew knew he could.  She was more assertive…in her own way.  She didn’t ask “Can I ask you a question?” before asking questions anymore.  She just asked.  She was proud of her learning and was getting used to showing it off.  Her independence increased.  She’d walk to Starbucks to get her strawberry frappucinos instead of having Jenna drive her.  She engaged in more conversation.  She made jokes.  She laughed at jokes.  She went grocery shopping with Jenna and said “I want to buy corn dogs” so she and Jenna bought corn dogs and they had them for dinner one night.  She went to Levi and said “I want to get a phone so I can text Annica” and so he gave her an old iPhone he had in the house.  She asked Annica more about makeup, even though she was still a bit apprehensive about using it.  She asked Geneviève about words she’d read and wanted to know more about.  Feminism (that was the best word she learned, Effie thought.  She was a feminist).  Socialism.  Communism.  Democracy.  Geneviève explained them all to her.  She asked Geneviève about pants.

She wore pants.

It was weird at first, wearing pants.  She’d only ever worn skirts and dresses, even in the privacy of her own home when she was in the cult.  The prophet demanded it; women were not allowed to wear pants.  So when Jenna encouraged her to try on an old pair of jeans that she had, Effie did.  They were big – Effie was still, well, small, and gaining weight every day – but Effie liked them.  “Can I buy a pair of jeans?” she asked Jenna.  Jenna promised to take her shopping at the mall on the weekend.  It would be Effie’s first time in a mall. 

Effie wanted to be fearless, but there was still a lot of fear in her.  Everything was so new, and so big, and sometimes so complicated, and she wished things were easier but she knew they couldn’t be.  But instead of before, when she would let the fear overcome her, she embraced it instead.  She worked through it.  She did things in spite of the fear.  She did things because she didn’t want the fear in her anymore.

That’s why she found herself walking now.  Walking to Starbucks.  Well, not to Starbucks exactly, but to the complex that held the Starbucks and a bunch of other stores.  Effie had noticed one particular one a few storefronts down and had taken mental note of it for when she was ready for it.  And now, walking with purpose through Aspen Woods, clutching something very important in the pocket of her jacket, she was ready.  

“Chop it all off.”

“What?!” the hairdresser shrieked as she looked at Effie through the mirror, after putting a robe around her and running her hands through her long blonde hair.  “But your hair!  It’s healthy and it’s long and luscious and—and it would be a disservice if I chopped it all off!”

“Please.  I need you to cut it.  I need you to—”

“This is the greatest head of hair I’ve ever seen—”

“You don’t understand,” Effie interrupted.  “I escaped a cult.  I escaped The People’s Dominion of Christ.  This hair was never mine; it was always someone else’s.  I need you to cut it off so that it’s mine, so that something on my body is mine for once in my life.”

The hairdresser looked at Effie through the mirror, blinking a few times as she realized what Effie was saying.  Without saying another word, she reached over to her station and grabbed her scissors.  “How much do you want off?” she asked.

Effie unfolded the picture from one of Jenna’s old magazines that she had crumpled in her hand, showing the stylist.  “Like this,” she said.  “I don’t even want it touching my shoulders.”

The hairdresser nodded, placing the picture face up at her station so Effie could look at it as the hairdresser did her magic.  She took one last look at it before tying an elastic loosely around the hair.  “Ready?” she asked, gripping it.

Effie nodded firmly.  “Ready.”

***

Effie had six numbers stored on her phone.  Levi.  Jenna.  Annica.  Geneviève.  Jacob Markstrom.  Matthew Tkachuk.  

“Hello?” he asked as he picked up his phone.  

His voice was a welcome sound to Effie, who was nervous but excited as she looked at herself in the mirror.  “Matthew?  I’m—I’m sorry to bother you, but can you come pick me up?”

“I—yeah—is everything okay?” his voice sounded immediately worried.  “Where are you?”

Effie didn’t even know.  She covered the receiver with her hand and turned towards the hairstylist.  “What’s the address?”

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13.”

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13,” she repeated into the phone.

Matthew was officially confused.  “The Starbucks complex?”

“Yes…but a few stores down,” Effie informed him.

“I’ll be there in like, five minutes.”

***

Matthew was nervous.  Effie hadn’t sounded nervous on the phone, but he was still nervous.  It was out of the ordinary for her to call him to pick her up from anywhere, let alone from a place where she knew how to get home from now that she took the initiative to walk most places she wanted to go.  It wasn’t like he was going to deny her – he was speeding through the streets, if he was being completely honest – but the thoughts in his mind were running a mile a minute, and he had no clue what to expect.  

When he pulled into the complex, he searched for unit 13 and parked right in front of it.  It was only when he turned off his car that he actually saw the name of the store he’d parked in front of.  Abigail’s Hair Salon.

Matthew walked in.

He stopped dead in his tracks.  In front of him, Effie stood sheepishly, her long, flowing blonde hair chopped off almost completely, and in its place, a chic blonde bob, perfectly styled and perfectly her.  She had a t-shirt, baggy skinny jeans, and old Doc Martens on – no doubt all borrowed from Jenna – and she looked like a vision.  He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face.  “Effie,” he said her name bashfully, breathlessly, because it was so much to take in and she just looked so…cute.  

“Does it look nice?” she asked, patting it down at the sides.  

“It looks great, Effie,” Matthew said, and she could tell he meant it sincerely.  He bit his bottom lip before continuing his line of questioning, even though all he wanted to do was look at her.  “You wanted it this short?”

Effie nodded her head.  

“It suits you,” he nodded.  “Did you pay?”  Effie nodded her head.  “Did you tip?”

Effie looked scared for a moment.  “Tip?”

Matthew automatically took out his wallet and pulled a $50 from inside, giving it to the hairstylist.  He turned to Effie without another word.  “Wanna grab some lunch?”

“You—you’re not busy?  I thought you would just drive me home.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” he said casually, like it was no big deal.  “Grab your jacket.  What do you feel like eating?”

***

Matthew watched Effie for most of the meal, if he was being honest.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her regardless of how hard he tried.  But he kept any emotions or any feelings at bay, kicking himself for anything he was feeling that was…questionable.  He didn’t want to be that guy.  He didn’t want to make things more complicated for her when she was already learning so much, when the world was already a complicated place for her and she was trying to find her place in it.  

“What team does your brother play for?” Effie asked, picking at her plate left with all her fries.  She ate her bacon cheeseburger first and devoured it in less than ten minutes.  For Matthew, it was impressive.  He knew she was trying to gain weight.  He shuddered to think what she looked like a year ago.  

“The Ottawa Senators,” he replied.

“In the capital city,” she said, and Matthew nodded his head.  “You must be very thankful that he’s in Canada with you.  What about your sister?”

“She plays field hockey at the University of Virginia.”

Matthew watched as Effie furrowed her brows.  “She can play sports and go to university?  That’s a thing?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Matthew smiled, chuckling slightly.  “She’s a great field hockey player.  She committed to the school when she was a junior – when she was sixteen – and now she’s finally on campus.  She’s going to school too, obviously.  That’s the most important thing.  But she’s also playing Division 1 field hockey.”

Effie nodded her head, considering all the things Matthew had just said.  Women could go to university – she knew that now thanks to Jenna and Geneviève.  But…women could play sports and go to university?  Women could play sports for their university?  That was new information.  Effie thought about girls playing hockey and whether or not they could do the same thing.  She thought to Levi watching Toronto Raptors games at home and wondering if women could do the same thing with basketball.  She had not been allowed to play sports.  Anything more than running, women were not allowed to do.  Taryn had been sixteen and had committed to play field hockey for a university.  When Effie was sixteen, she was definitely not doing that.  “Your sister is very lucky,” she said softly.  “To be able to do that.  She’s very lucky.”

Matthew knew there was weight behind those words.  They weren’t to be taken lightly.  He could only imagine what Effie was up to when she was sixteen years old as opposed to Taryn.  “She knows,” Matthew said.  “Taryn’s a really smart girl.  She knows she’s really lucky.”

“It’s kind of nice how in the normal world, women can go to university, and get an education, and play sports, and do whatever they want, and wait to have their children,” Effie said.

Matthew shrugged.  “If they even want kids at all.  I know some of my friends back home don’t want them.  Nobody says women have to have them,” he said it like a throwaway comment, looking down at his plate to grab a fry and dip it in some ketchup.

Silence.  Pure silence from Effie.  He stuck his fry in his mouth and noticed how quiet it got and he looked up with half the fry in his mouth and half the fry still between his fingers, like a dumbass, only to see Effie staring at him with a blank look on her face.  When he looked closer, he saw her eyes were glossy.  He gulped.  “Wh…What do you mean that women don’t have to have children?” she asked.

Matthew chose his words carefully.  He should have known.  He should have fucking known, but he just had to go open his big mouth.  Now, he realized the words he was about to say would change Effie’s perception of things dramatically.  The last thing he intended was for the conversation to swerve in a direction like this, but they were here now, and he had to live with it.  Own up to his actions.  Be the person he promised himself he would be around her.  “So, like…women in modern society have the choice.  They can choose not to have children.  Some women don’t want to become mothers.  It’s a personal choice.  And nowadays, women don’t feel as pressured to have families.  Like, maybe they want to pursue a career instead, but it’s not even that.  You can just…not want children.”

Effie had heard the word of God her entire life.  It was the first thing she remembered; it was her earliest memory.  Some days – on bad days – it was her only memory, the thing that haunted her most at night, and she’d toss and turn in her bed to try and get the rolls and rolls of scripture out of her head.  Be fruitful and multiply.  Be fruitful and multiply.  Be fruitful and multiply.  But this – what Matthew was telling her – this was not the word of God.  This was something else.  This went against everything she knew.  This went against everything she was brought up to believe.  “Oh, okay,” she whispered.  

Matthew could tell he had just said something to Effie that rocked her foundation.  And then he thought to himself ‘Of course this would be happening.  Everything is new for her.’   The modern world was completely alien to her.  She didn’t know anything.  No women’s liberation.  No women’s rights.  No individuality.  Voting.  Elections.  Doctors.  Hospitals.  Jeans.  T-shirts.  Wearing her hair however she wanted.  Makeup.  Cell phones.  Instagram.  Twitter.  Snapchat.  Hockey – literally the most unimportant thing at this point.  She was learning, and making great progress, but things like this – these big ideas – still shook her to her core.  They went against everything she knew and everything she was brought up to believe.  It wasn’t easy for any person to have their foundation cracked; Matthew knew it would be even harder for her.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” Effie said suddenly, not bothering to hear an answer from Matthew before she pushed her chair back and stood up from the table, escaping back into the restaurant.  

Matthew felt like there was cement in his feet as he replayed the moment over and over in his mind, the sight of Effie’s glossy eyes realizing children were optional in the real world burning itself into his mind forever.  God, to find out this way – over bacon cheeseburgers at some restaurant and not in a safe space where she felt comfortable.  To have it be him, a man, that told her this instead of someone like Jenna, or Geneviève, who had been teaching her everything.  He was an idiot.  He was such an idiot.

A jolt of electricity struck through his body and finally jolted him out of his seat, his legs making him run towards the back of the restaurant near the washrooms where he knew Effie went.  “Effie?  Effie?” he called out as he opened the door to the women’s washroom.

When he stepped inside, he saw Effie huddled in a heap on the floor, her knees to her chest as tears flowed down her face.  Her skin was red and blotchy and he could see her chest heaving up and down.  “Effie—” he bent down to be at eye level with her.

“I need you to take me home.”

“Effie—” he reached out to touch her.

The second – the millisecond, the nanosecond – that Effie felt his touch for the first time, her entire body flinched so violently away from him that it scared him.  Matthew recoiled his hand quickly as his breath caught in his throat.  “I’m sorry—I’msosorry—I’m so sorry—” he stuttered out.  

She was silent as she looked at him for a moment through her tears.  There was a look of pure fear in her eyes that Matthew hadn’t seen before, not even the first time he met her at Noah’s birthday at the steakhouse.  “What if women can’t have children?” she asked, her voice so small and frail that it broke Matthew’s heart.

He struggled to find the words because it was such a simple concept for him but such a complicated one for her.  “That’s…that’s not their fault,” he said calmly, but the tone of obviousness was still apparent.  

“What do you mean it’s not their fault?” Effie’s tone was incredulous, like a seven-year-old child learning prematurely that there was no Santa Claus.

“It’s not their fault, Effie,” he reiterated, not knowing how else to explain it.  “I…it’s not their fault.  It can be a medical thing.  I mean most of the time it is, if they can’t have children.  And it’s not their fault,” he just kept repeating it.

“What if…what if women don’t want to have children, but can?  Are…are they punished?” she asked.

“Why would they be punished?  No,” he shook his head.

“Matthew…” she was apprehensive.  “Are you telling the truth?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Effie,” he said softly, wanting so desperately to just reach out and touch her, hug her, but knowing that if he did, he’d just inflict more fear in her.  “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s the truth.  Some women can’t have children, and some of them don’t want children, and both of those things are perfectly okay.”  He watched as the tears streamed down her face as she stared him in the eye.  Shaking.  

Then it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.  

“Effie…” he said uneasily.

“There were seven.”

The words hung in the air for an unknown amount of time.  It could have been years for all Matthew knew.  But as he stared into Effie’s eyes, he felt an incredible pain in his heart; a pain reserved only for her, that only she could give him.  He thought of how she kept all her own pain inside her constantly, how the trauma was a part of her just as her hair, her fingers, her toes were.  She carried this with her every single day.  Every.  Single.  Day.

“It’s not your fault, Effie,” he whispered.  He knew better than to try to reach out and touch her again.  So he settled on words, because words were his best option.  “It’s not your fault.”

***

“Did you really think you’d be able to come to a therapist’s office and think you’d be able to discuss a patient?”

Matthew stared at Dr. Jessica Barlow sitting across from him – her seated on her plush chair, him sitting on the couch he was sure all her patients sat on – and he didn’t really appreciate her tone of voice.  So maybe it wasn’t the most flawless plan.  Maybe there were holes.  But he was there, damnit, and there for a good reason.  The best reason.  She was the best psychotherapist that specialized in cults in Alberta – probably in western Canada, judging by how many degrees and certificates and awards she had displayed in her office.  She was the best and most qualified person to help Effie, surely, which is why Effie met with her three times a week.  That meant she was also the best and most qualified person to help Matthew.

“Maybe,” he mumbled out.  Matthew would have been intimidated, but for some reason, he wasn’t.  Even considering they were alone in her office, even considering he’d never met or been to a therapist before, he wasn’t nervous or intimidated.  He was determined.  “I need you tell me what I need to do.  Tell me.  Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“For who?”

“Effie Schaffer.”

Dr. Barlow looked incredulous, like a mix between seeing a ghost and not believing the words that were coming out of Matthew’s mouth.  But then he watched as her face softened slightly, and turn inquisitive instead of suspicious.  “You’re Matthew,” she said, framing it as a statement more than a question.

He knew what that meant.  “Effie’s told you about me?” he asked.

It was a lost cause – he knew that the second the question left his lips, because he knew Dr. Barlow wouldn’t tell him a word.  Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.  If dentists couldn’t even talk about their patients, there was no way in hell a psychotherapist who worked with cult survivors would say a peep about anything.  “Effie’s opened up to you quite a bit, hasn’t she?”

Matthew leaned in.  “Yes.  That’s why I need you to help me.  I want – I need to know how to help her.”

“Matthew,” Dr. Barlow took off her glasses.  “First you need to tell me why you want to do this,” she said matter-of-factly.  

Matthew didn’t want this to become a session.  It wasn’t about him; it was about Effie.  “I’ve just become her friend, and I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately, and—and I just want to know what I can do to help her get even better.”

“Because you’re her friend.”

“Yes.”

“Because you care about her.”

“Well, yes.  I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about her in any capacity.”

Dr. Barlow paused.  “It’s not that simple, Mr. Tkachuk—”

“Why not?” he asked, interrupting her.  “She’s leaps and bounds better than when she escaped!  At least according to her brother!” he defended himself.  “Listen, I know it hasn’t been a long time that I’ve known her but I – damnit, I can help her.  I can help her but I don’t want to hurt her – I never want that to happen ever again, even if it’s by accident, and you need to tell me.  You need to tell me how I can do that so I can actually do it.”

Dr. Barlow stayed silent.  “You’ve already been incredibly patient with her,” she chose her words wisely.  Matthew could read between the lines.  So maybe Effie spoke about him more than he initially thought.  “We should just leave it at that.  I appreciate the effort, but—"

“She told me how there were seven,” he said, his voice steady and calm but firm and resolute.  When he looked up at Dr. Barlow, she was staring back at him with a stoic yet shocked look on her face.  “She told me there were seven, and when I tried to—to console her, to touch her, the way her body jumped away from mine…I…” he trailed off.  He rubbed his fingers against his lips nervously.

“So then you know and realize that Effie was a member of a religious cult where she was routinely raped by its leader so he could impregnate her with the son of God for almost five years.”

It was the first time the word had been said out loud.  He didn’t want to repeat it.  He wanted it burned from his memory, from Effie’s memory, from the dictionary, everywhere.  He knew it happened but he didn’t want to admit it to himself.  Saying the word out loud made it different; it made it real.  It made him acutely aware of the trauma Effie had been through, and how she didn’t deserve any of it, yet she was burdened with it for the rest of her life.  He was biting down on his bottom lip so hard he thought he’d draw blood.  “Yes,” he said curtly.  “I realize.”

“I know how close – relatively – you and Effie have gotten ever since you were introduced.  Her progress has increased dramatically since it,” Dr. Barlow began, again choosing her words wisely.  “I know everything you two talk about on your Starbucks dates.  I know you introduced her to candy and watched Little Women with her.  Matthew – I’m not telling you this because I’m making some point that Effie tattles and tells me everything about her relationship with you.  I’m telling you this because you’ve already been doing what you need to do.  You didn’t need to come here and ask me for specifics.”

“But I don’t want to hurt her,” Matthew said, his voice barely above a whisper.  “What happened that day when she told me and when—when I tried to touch her…”

“It might take a while for her body not to seize up anytime a man touches her,” Dr. Barlow said.  “That doesn’t mean she’s not making progress.  It’s the mental progress we want to see.  And it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong, either.  Just give her time, Matthew.  Exercise patience with her.”

***

The next time Matthew saw Effie, she didn’t know he was coming.  But he called Levi and made sure it was okay, and so when he descended down the stairs into the basement and saw Effie’s bedroom door opened, he took a deep breath.  He collected himself.  And he moved forward.  He knew he didn’t have to do this – any outsider would have said that – but he knew he needed to do it.  He needed to make it right.

“Effie?” he knocked lightly on her door before stepping into the door frame, finding her sitting at her desk reading something.  

She turned her head to look at him and a smile appeared on her face.  It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders to see her smiling.  He didn’t exactly think she’d be cradled in a corner crying, but he did think that maybe she wouldn’t be happy to see him.  It was a relief.  “Hi Matthew.”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course,” she nodded, pushing her desk chair out as he walked in slowly.  “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been okay…” he said, biting down on his bottom lip nervously.  “How—I mean, have you been okay since that day?”

He saw something flash behind her eyes – a memory of the tears, the feeling, the questions.  He knew he relived it every other minute since it happened because he felt so guilty about it.  He wondered if Effie relived it every moment too and whether or not it brought her constant pain.  Matthew would never forgive himself if it did.  “I’ve been good.  Learned a lot, as you can imagine,” she joked slightly.  “I read up on what we talked about.  Geneviève helped me.”

“So you know it’s a thing now.”

Effie nodded.  “It made me realize I never want children.”

Matthew should have been shocked by that statement, but he wasn’t.  Knowing what Effie had been through, he understood why she wouldn’t want them.  It was her choice to make and hers only, and nobody could or should influence her otherwise.  “That’s good.  Good that you can…you know, say that out loud.  That you’re not forced into something you don’t want anymore.”

Effie nodded her head.  “I knew it all along.  I mean, children are a blessing, but they’re not for me.  And knowing the way I was brought up, with abuse and no loving parenting from my parents or from anyone around me, I don’t want to pass that legacy on.  I’m too scared to fall back into that.  I’d have no idea how to raise a child.  I know that now,” she said, watching as Matthew walked further into the room and lean back slightly on her desk.  She looked up at him.  There was a moment of silence between them as they were just there, staring at each other in her bedroom.  Effie tried not to get lost in his blue eyes.  She wondered if he could see past her calm exterior.  “I’m sorry that I flinched away from you that day,” she said quietly.  

“I should be the one apologizing—”

“No,” she said as sternly as she could, getting him to stop.  “You don’t have to apologize for anything.  You didn’t hurt me that day, so don’t think you did.  I just…I get apprehensive about touch, because we weren’t allowed to, and because once I finally was, it wasn’t…nice,” she revealed, knowing he’d get the point.  “But I know that your touch is nice.”

“How do you know?” Matthew asked.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

She took it upon herself to look at his hands.  They were on either side of his body, gripping her desk just in case it collapsed under his weight or something – who knows.  But they were there, exposed, for her to look at.  They were big – bigger than Abraham’s – and younger, of course, rougher around the edges due to hockey but still better than the only other pair of hands she’d had experience with.

He caught her looking.  Slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, he brought his right hand up and opened it, palm facing her, fingers pointing up towards the sky.  He watched as Effie brought her hand up too, even slower than he had, opening it up and facing her palm towards his.  There were a few moments where she was stagnant, thinking about how this was the first time she was going to touch a man other than her predator fake husband or her brother.  Then she moved her hand closer.  Closer.  Closer.

When she finally touched Matthew – when she finally touched him – a million electric bolts ran through her body.  The feeling of his skin on hers, his delicate yet rough touch as she pressed her small hand into his large one so she could feel his entire hand on her hand – it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.  The simplest action gave her the most surreal feeling.  There were no words for it.  No words, in fact, because all she could do was smile.  A big, wide smile, spanning from ear to ear as she kept her hand against his.

Matthew smiled too.  

***

“This was a very quick progression from ‘Can women get tattoos?’ to ‘I’m getting a tattoo’, you know,” Geneviève laughed as she and Annica watched Effie take a seat in the tattooist’s chair.  The tattoo artist, a young woman with sleeves of her own, was preparing everything appropriately as the women chatted.  “The turnover rate was, what, a week?”

“Less,” Annica giggled.  

“When I went to the orthodontist’s when I was ten, I saw a man there with his entire arm covered in tattoos.  I was so scared I started crying.  I asked the prophet about it when I got back to Sheerness and he said they were marks of sinners and that the devil influenced them,” Effie laughed along with them.  “But I see them on people at Starbucks all the time.  I think they look really nice.”

“And you’re absolutely sure you want what you’ve requested?  You’re not gonna regret it, right?” Annica wanted to make sure Effie was making the right decision.

Effie nodded her head emphatically.  “Definitely.  Definitely.”

“What is it?  Can we see it?” Geneviève asked.  

Effie shook her head.  “I want it to be a surprise,” she said, biting her lip.  “You guys don’t think I’m crazy, do you?  Doing this to my body?”

“Absolutely not,” Geneviève replied automatically, her tone telling Effie that the notion was absurd.  It was nice for Effie to know that the two women in front of her would never judge her.  It was nice to know a woman could be supported in her decisions, and not be told it would make God angry and that she was sinning and going against the prophet.  “It’s your body, remember?  Your body, your choice.”

Effie nodded after a moment.  “My body, my choice.”

***

“It’s still a bit red and itchy.  Annica said I need to put an elastic around my wrist and snap it whenever I want to itch it,” Effie said, her voice filled with excitement but a certain anxiousness that was characteristic to her.  

“It’s alright.  Just show me,” Matthew smiled as he watched her roll up the sleeve of her cardigan.  When she finally did, and stretched out her arm, Matthew’s mouth gaped open.  “It’s huge!” he exclaimed, definitely not expecting it to be that big.  He thought Effie would get a dainty tattoo; something small.  He didn’t exactly think she’d have a “go big or go home” attitude about a tattoo – something on her body forever.  But it was big.  It took up at least two-thirds of her forearm.  The linework and shading were impeccable; the detail exquisite.  It was made up of flowers – he didn’t know what kind – but they were big and small, all sizes really, and there were a few leaves, a few stems, and it just looked so beautiful.  He brought his hand up to touch, but stopped himself.  “Can I?” he asked.

Effie nodded.  “You can touch me,” she said, preparing herself.

Matthew brought his hand up slowly.  He touched her arm, grazing his fingertips over the linework delicately.  It was still bumpy, a testament to how new it was.  “It looks amazing, Effie,” he whispered, his fingers still grazing delicately.  

“You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”

“The best part?” he arched his eyebrow.  What could be better than this?

She turned her arm over, palm facing up, where another large flower was tattooed on her skin.  Matthew noticed some handwriting along the flower, and he leaned his head down to read it.  ‘I am mine before I am anyone else’s’.

Matthew smiled from ear to ear.  “Effie,” he whispered bashfully, just like he had when he saw that she cut her hair short for the first time.  He was so bashful because he was so happy to be seeing her making her own decisions for once in her life.  “Do you love it?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically.  “I love it so much.  It’s mine.  It’s mine.”

***

“Did Jenna make these?” Matthew asked Levi once he was done with his stretches, noticing a giant Tupperware filled with some sort of cookies.  Matthew had seen some of the other guys in the locker room with them and decided to investigate.  He took a massive bite of one and his entire mouth watered.  In that short moment, he was sure he’d never had a cookie so good in his life.  “These are phenomenal,” he said with a full mouth.

“Nah, Jenna’s not a baker,” Levi shook his head.  “Effie made those.”

Matthew’s brows rose.  He gulped the bite of the cookie down.  “Effie?  Effie bakes?”

Levi smirked, side-eyeing him.  “Effie knows how to make and churn butter from scratch.  She had to learn in the cult.  She knows how to bake and cook a lot of things because she had to be a traditional wife.  But she enjoys baking the most.  Baking is what brings her the most joy, so she’s started baking again.”

Matthew nodded nonchalantly.  “She can bake all kinds of stuff then?”

“Bread, sweet stuff…yeah, pretty much,” he said.  “She actually…well, she’s trying to find a job where she can put it to good use, since she actually likes doing it.”

“Effie’s getting a job?!” Matthew exclaimed, louder than he intended.  Levi could only chuckle.  Matthew felt the need to cover.  “Where?  What—where?  What’s she gonna do?  How is she—I mean, why?”

“She’s gotta support herself, doesn’t she?  If she wants to move out, or earn her own money—”

“Effie’s moving out?!”

“She’s not moving out tomorrow, Matthew, but she’s going to be moving out soon.”

This was all news to Matthew, of course.  He tried to play it cool, calming himself down and not making a big deal out of it – well, more than he already had.  The fact that Levi, Jenna, and Effie were discussing jobs and moving out had absolutely nothing to do with him.  He was just on the outside.  He didn’t need to be part of the decision making at all…at all.  But he still got nervous.  Effie was still learning about a lot.  And ultimately, at the end of the day, he wanted her to be safe.  A safe job.  A safe apartment.  “Where’s she looking?”

“There’s a cute little hipster coffee shop in the downtown core she has an interview with,” Levi informed him.  “If she gets the job, and if she enrols in the online business certificate program Geneviève recommended to her, I promised to pay three months worth of rent until she can pay it on her own.  She’d earn enough from minimum wage and tips for sure, especially downtown.”

Hipster coffee shop.  Online business certificate.  New apartment.  There was so much new information coming at Matthew that he didn’t know how to process it all.  He was happy for Effie – he was – and he wished her only the best, but it was still a lot.  “Well…when you need help moving, call me and we could put these muscles to work,” he said, flexing his arm for dramatic effect, trying to hide the fact that he so obviously cared, and miserably failing to hide that fact to Levi.

Levi let out a haughty laugh.  “I’ll be sure to mention it.”

***

Matthew downed a shot of tequila – the good tequila – and smashed his shot glass down on the bar as the smooth liquid coated his throat and made his stomach burn.  Noah let out a loud ‘Wooooo!’ and Sean, ever the dumbass, choked on it as it went down.  Matthew almost spit up the shot out of laughter watching Sean struggle to swallow it, picking up his glass of whisky the bartender had just poured.  “You’re already wrecked, buddy,” Matthew chastised him as he got control of his coughs.  “You’re embarrassing.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sean sneered.  “We all know you’re trying to get all your alcohol in before Effie gets here.”

Matthew chuckled.  “Fat chance of that happening.  Effie’s not coming.”

Sean rolled his eyes.  “Well, either I’m high or you’re wrong, because she just walked in the door.”

Matthew’s back stiffened as he whipped his head around to look through the crowd of people.  Sure enough, he could see Effie raising her hand to chest level so the bouncer at the door could stamp her hand.  Noah made a noise that sounded like a seagull and Sean let out a chuckle and a muffled “Dude owes me a fucking drink for that one”.  Before Matthew’s legs could move him forward, he noticed Meredith approach Effie; she hugged her and Effie allowed Meredith to grab her hand so she could guide her through the crowd and into their spot at the back of the lounge.  The music was loud and the floor felt like it was vibrating but it was nothing compared to the beat of Matthew’s heart.

Fuck.

When Meredith and Effie finally made their way through, he saw that Effie was wearing Jenna’s ballet flats, skinny jeans that were still a bit big, and a sequined top that fit so big any other girls in the club would have probably worn it as a dress.  He could feel the whisky burning his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

“Effiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!!” Claudia squealed once she noticed her, sauntering over to her in her high heels and bending down to hug her.  “You made it!  I’m sooooo happy!” she continued squealing.  Matthew wondered if Effie noticed that Claudia was already drunk.  “Is this your first time in a place like this?”

“Yeah,” Effie nodded her head nervously.  “I’m sorry—I—I know I wasn’t supposed to be here and I said no, but—”

“Are you kidding?  The more the merrier!  Let me take you to Andrew so you can say happy birthday!”

Matthew watched as Claudia led her to Andrew, tapping him on the shoulder to reveal Effie.  Andrew was happy to see her, and – knowing better than to go in for a hug – politely held his hand against his heart when she wished him a happy birthday.  None of the guys on the team had ever touched her – well, except Matthew.  He seemed to be the exception to a lot of things regarding Effie, and he was proud of that.  He didn’t want anyone else touching her, even if they were his teammates.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

“You came alone?” Andrew asked her.  Effie nodded.  “We’ll have to find you Matthew then.  He’d kill us if we didn’t tell him you were here.”

Matthew didn’t know what Andrew was saying – the music was too loud, and he couldn’t read lips – but the cement in his legs finally dissolved and he found himself walking over to them, wanting to make his presence known at that very moment.  When Effie saw him, he could swear her face lit up.  “Fancy seeing you here, Effie,” he smiled, holding his glass of whisky near his chest.

She went in for a hug.

Matthew was so shocked he almost didn’t hug her back.  Even Andrew was looking at them like he’d just seen a monkey perform a magic trick.  Matthew draped both arms around her and hugged her back, making sure not to spill his whisky all over her.  He tried not to let it seem like he was shocked – hugs should be a normal thing for Effie, he thought – so when she pulled away, he was already smiling down at her.  “What brought you here?”

“I wanted to see what these places are like,” she said when she pulled away.  She took a look down at his drink.  “Is that iced tea?”

“Whiskey.”

She looked around at everyone else, noticing they were all holding glasses with drinks in them too.  “Is everybody drinking alcohol?”

“Pretty much,” Matthew giggled out.

“I’ve never drunk alcohol before,” she revealed.

“Do you want to try some?”

“No,” she shook her head.  “I’m not ready.”

“That’s okay.  Do you want something to drink, then?  Some water?  I’m sure the bar can make you a virgin drink if you ask for it.”

“A virgin drink?”

“Virgin means no alcohol,” Matthew covered quickly.  “They’ll make you whatever you want.”

Matthew watched as Effie considered it, looking over to the bar before she shook her head.  “I’m not thirsty yet.  I’ll go when I’m thirsty.”

***

Effie didn’t dance.  She didn’t drink.  All she did was look.

By looking, she was learning.  She watched how people interacted with one another in this type of setting and she internalized it.  She watched girls approach the bar and get served by the bartender.  She watched as guys flirted with them and bought them drinks.  She watched people take shots and then ask for another.  She watched people get handsy, with touches on hips and lower backs and arms the most popular spots she saw men putting their hands on women.  She watched people drag one another towards the dance floor.  She watched kisses being placed on necks and shoulders and lips, tongues dragging across, shocked that people would be doing so out in the open.  She watched girls raise their drinks in the air and kick their leg up as they posed for photos with their friends.  She watched girls move their hips seductively.  She watched guys getting their bodies as close to them as possible.  

“What are they doing?” she asked Matthew as she watched them dancing like a hawk.

“Uh…it’s called grinding.”

She’d talk, and ask questions, and Matthew was beside her the entire time answering her questions and milking his whisky, not caring that he wasn’t partying with Andrew or with the other boys, because when Effie was around, he was all about Effie – nobody else mattered.  He’d stay with her until last call if she wanted to stay that late.  He’d already resolved that he’d be going home when she was going home because he needed to make sure she got back to Aspen Woods safe, and also because there was no reason to be at the club when Effie was gone.

Did he hear himself?  Did he really just say there was no reason to be at a club full of beautiful girls during his friend’s birthday?

Fuck.  

Noah, Sean, and Johnny ended up coming back to the booth for some water.  Johnny made eyes at Matthew and Matthew subtly gave him the finger; Effie didn’t notice because she was looking over at the bar.  “I’m thirsty.  I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Let me go for y—”

“No,” she said sternly as Matthew was about to get up, standing up herself and holding her hand out.  “I’ve watched.  I know what I need to do.  I can go.”

Matthew gulped.  He didn’t want to deny her independence but he didn’t want her to go alone. “Are you sure?” he asked.  She nodded, and Matthew had to let her go.  And all he did was look.

***

Effie approached the bar slowly, trying not to get shoved around by people crowding around the bar.  It was much busier actually being in the crowd than just looking at it, and Effie was almost regretting her decision.  She’s never been in a place with so many people.  Well, that was a lie, maybe – church was always busy, obviously, especially the church for the People’s Dominion.  Sundays were the worst.  But there were definitely not this many young people congregated in one place.  Effie knew this is what young people did in the normal world – Geneviève told her so.  It was one thing to know about it, to be apart from it in a different area and watch; it was something completely different, actually being in it.  

She made her way to right behind a few people at the bar – some scantily clad girls with some really pretty dresses on.  Effie admired their beauty.  They had beautiful long eyelashes and their lips were red and berry-coloured.  Their skin was flawless and tanned – weird for April in Calgary, but tanned nonetheless.  Effie wondered if they were wearing makeup, and wondered whether or not she’d ever wear makeup herself.  When they got their drinks, they began to move.  One of them noticed Effie behind them and gave her a quick up-down.  “Take our place, sweetie,” she said, letting Effie move into their place before she watched them make their way through the crowd and back onto the dance floor.

After watching, she knew now she had to get the attention of one of the bartenders.  Every single one of them was busy pouring drinks.  She watched as a couple of men on the opposite end of the bar raised their hands and the bartenders went over to them, so she decided to do the same.  After a few minutes, a bartender came.  “What can I get you?”

“Um, water please.”

“You driving tonight, darling?”

Effie shook her head.  “I don’t drive.  I just don’t drink alcohol.”

“Do you want anything more exciting?  I mean I can at least get you ginger ale or a coke.”

Effie didn’t like coke – she thought it was too sweet – but when he mentioned ginger ale, she reconsidered.  “Okay.  Ginger ale is good.”

The bartender nodded, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice before getting the drink gun.  “Do you have a tab going?”

What was a tab?  Effie shook her head.  “What’s a tab?”

The bartender looked at her skeptically.  “How are you paying, darling?  Are you with a party?”

“Oh!  I’m here for Andrew’s party!  Andrew Mangiapane.”

“Got it,” the bartender winked.  “Here you go, darling.  Enjoy.”

Effie grabbed the drink and took a sip out of the straw.  It was nice and cold, just the way she liked it.  Just as she was about to leave and go back to Matthew, a big body slipped into the empty space beside her.  A man – a very large man, it seemed, though she was so small that every man looked large to her – took up all the space.  He was looking down at her with a very, very amused expression on his face.  “Ginger ale, girl?” he mocked her.

Effie couldn’t tell.  “What’s wrong with ginger ale?”

“You’re gonna come out to a bar looking like a walking felon and order ginger ale?” he pressed, winking at her.

“A walking felon?” she repeating.  She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said.  “A real drink.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Wanna start?”

“No,” she said firmly.

“That’s fine.  I can think of better things we can get up to than drinking, anyways,” he smiled.

Effie furrowed her brows.  “Like what?”

The guy smiled, and it was creepy, and she finally saw behind his eyes every thought and every intention he currently had.  “Let me show you,” he said, and Effie saw, out of the corner of her eye, that he was bringing his hand up to touch her.  At the same time, he was leaning his head down.

“HEY!” a loud voice boomed, and Effie immediately recognized it as Matthew’s.  Before she could even see him or realize where he was coming from, he squeezed his way in between him and the man.  Matthew’s hands were now on her body instead, the man’s hand nowhere near her.  “Get the fuck out of here, buddy.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Matthew growled.

“Dead, eh?  So you get to touch her but I don’t?”

“Fuck off.”

Effie was taken aback by the anger in Matthew’s voice.  She’d never seen or heard him so angry.  She knew he was capable of it, by how he played hockey, but she didn’t think he’d be able to get this angry in a social setting.  Her body tensed up.  “Can we go back to our booth?” Effie asked loudly, placing her hand on Matthew’s, hoping to get his attention.  

Matthew looked back at her quickly, and when he saw the trepidation on her face, he immediately listened to her.  As he turned to leave, pushing Effie ahead of him with his hands still on her waist guiding her, he heard the man make one last call out to Effie.  “You don’t want to have some fun, girl?  I can show you a better time than this dick with my dick!”

Matthew had had it.  He knew he couldn’t punch out a guy in a bar.  He knew he couldn’t do much without causing a scene and the cops getting called and everything getting out of hand.  So instead, he used everything at his disposal to make his point, the most important thing being his size.  He turned around and flexed, standing up straight and making himself as physically big as possible, bumping up against the guy on the chest and backing him up against the bar.  He had only a few inches on the guy, but he was suddenly intimidated.  “You even so much as breathe in her general direction and I won’t hesitate to knock your teeth down your throat,” Matthew growled, making fists with his hands.  He didn’t even wait for the guy to say anything.  Instead, he just turned and walked away, noticing Effie waiting for him in the crowd.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” he said curtly, leading her out of the crowd and back to the booth.

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

“Positive,” he mumbled as they finally got to the booth.

Effie turned around to get a good look at him.  She knew he was lying because she could see how angry he was on his face.  She got nervous – really nervous.  “Matthew—”

“Did he touch you?  He didn’t touch you, did he?” Matthew demanded.  He needed the answer to be no so he could calm down.  

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Everything in Matthew suddenly cleared.  All he saw – all he was able to see – was Effie’s face, and how nervous she was, and how she was looking up at him with a certain tenseness.  “Effie—no—I could never be mad at you.  I’m mad at that guy for being gross.”

He noticed Effie furrow her brows slightly.  “Was he trying to get me to have sex with him?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know what he wanted.  But he was being gross and the second I saw him wedge his way into the bar I got up.”

Effie nodded.  “But you’re not mad at me, are you?” she asked again.

“Never, Effie.  Never.”

***

Annica had never been more flabbergasted or without words than when Effie asked her to explain what Instagram was.  Geneviève had to step in, giggling as she mixed together the baked feta pasta the girls were having for lunch.  “It’s supposed to be a platform for sharing pictures,” Geneviève explained.  “You know, like the book you’re reading, or where you’re going, if you go on vacation, or if you see something cool, or let’s say you go out to eat and you want to show what you’re eating…that sort of thing.”

“People want to know that stuff?” Effie asked innocently, causing the girls to giggle.  “People want to know that about me?”

“I’d love to follow you on Instagram.  I’d love to see how you see the world,” Geneviève said.  “It would be a breath of fresh air, to be honest.”

“How would it be a breath of fresh air if everybody is doing it?” Effie asked again.

“Everybody’s not doing it.  That’s the point,” Annica said.  “Instagram has transformed into this, like…God, I don’t even know what to call it.  It’s one big advertisement now.”

Effie considered what the girls were telling her.  She trusted them both, which is why she asked.  Annica talked about it a lot, and was on it a lot, which is why Effie became interested in it in the first place.  Geneviève was on it too, of course, running her own account and also having access to the account for her literary magazine Atomic (she’d given Effie a bunch of old copies to read through, and she was going to devour them right after she finished Geneviève’s book, which was technically a collection of essays).  For a girl who just wanted to be as normal as possible, it seemed to her like Instagram was the logical next step.  “Can…can you guys help me make a profile?”

“Of course,” Annica said as all three of them sat down at the table.  “We can do it after lunch.”

“I’m not your therapist, but you should use it to chronicle your journey and what you’re doing outside of the cult now,” Geneviève offered.  “That’s what I meant when I said I’d love to see how you see the world.  You can post all the things you’ve been baking recently, or the pretty things you see in Calgary when you’re out and about on one of your walks.”

The second that Geneviève mentioned ‘chronicle your journey’, it was like a switch went off in Effie’s brain.  She nodded her head.  “That’s what I’m gonna do.  Let’s make a profile after lunch.”

***

FOLLOW REQUEST: effieschaffer7

You have accepted effieschaffer7’s friend request.

Effie?????

Hi Matthew

U made an insta?

Is it okay if I follow you? Annica helped me

Yes of course it’s okay if u follow me

I am going to post my baking I think

That’s good! I will have to try some one day

When you get back from the road trip there will be something new.  Levi requested a lemon meringue pie and you can have some too if you want.

I’m gonna make sure Levi drives us home then

***

It was Effie who swung the door open excitedly.  Matthew was excited to try the lemon meringue pie, but apparently she was excited about something else.  Her eyes were as wide as the moon and as bright as the sun.  “I got the job!” she screamed.  

Levi dropped his bag as he screamed, catching her as she jumped from the doorway into his arms.  Matthew started cheering too and started clapping; it was only then that Effie even remembered he was standing there, but he really didn’t mind.  “Congratulations, Effie!” he smiled from ear to ear.  “Look at you go!”

She let go of her brother, but still held on to his arms.  “That means I can get the apartment!  That means I can pay for the tuition for the business program!  That means…I…I’m just so excited!”  She looked over at Matthew, seeing his smile, and did the unexpected.  

She hugged him.  She jumped into his arms just like she did with her brother and wrapped her arms around him tightly.  He reciprocated easily, wrapping his own arms around her too.  “That’s amazing, Effie!”

“I just—aaaahhhhheeeeeppppp!” she half yelled-half squealed, letting go of Matthew so they could get back inside.  April in Calgary was still cold.  Both Matthew and Levi set their bags down at the front door and walked straight to the kitchen, following Effie who was practically kicking her heels up.  “I can’t even speak!  I mean, this is—this is me getting to work!  I get to work!  I get to make my own living and make my own money!”

“You should be really proud of yourself,” Matthew said as he sat down on one of the kitchen stools.  “And you get to do something you like to do!  Not a lot of people get to say that.”

She nodded enthusiastically, opening the fridge.  “Here, try this,” she said, taking out the lemon meringue pie she had promised them.  “The owner of the coffee shop said I’m going to start with cookies and brownies and small stuff like that, and then maybe I can expand,” she said.

She cut the pie, plated it for her brother and Matthew, and handing them forks.  Matthew dug in automatically, shoving a giant piece in his mouth.  The second it hit his tongue, he groaned.  “Oh…oh Effie…” he said in between chews.  “This is gonna be dangerous.”

“Is it good?”

“You may need to bake me something every day, now, Effie.  Either that or I’m gonna come visit you every day.”

***

“Piiiiiiivvvooottttt!!!!!”

“If you say that one more time, I’m gonna kill you,” Matthew screamed at Sean holding the other end of the couch at the bottom of the stairs.  

“Piiiiiiiiivvv—”

“Monahan!”

“Is everything okay, boys?” Effie’s sweet voice asked from the top of the stairs, popping her head out of her brand new apartment.  

“We’re fine!” Matthew called out, not wanting her to worry.  “Monahan is just being a jackass!”

“Am not!”

They got the couch upstairs.  They got the bedframe upstairs.  They got the mattress upstairs.  In a little one-bedroom apartment above a storefront on 8th Avenue SW in downtown Calgary, Effie Schaffer was moving in.  Well, Effie was in her apartment unpacking boxes and organizing everything.  Levi, Matthew, Sean, and Jacob were helping move in her furniture.  She was going to thank them gracefully with another pie – this time, she’d experimented with a banana cream pie with salty bourbon caramel.  It was in the fridge waiting.  Each of them would get a nice big slice.

Geneviève came over for a bit, helping Effie with organizing the kitchen.  And Jenna dropped by after work, making sure everything was in order.  Jacob and his piece of pie left with Geneviève, and Levi and his piece of pie left once he knew everything was in order, and Sean and his piece of pie left after he and Matthew had finished putting the couch together.  Matthew hadn’t left with his piece of pie yet.  Matthew stayed.  

“This apartment is so great for you, Effie,” he said as he sat down on the couch, admittedly exhausted from all the hauling but despite that, still not wanting to leave.  There was so much to do and say and admire with Effie now that people weren’t around, and though he’d never admit it out loud to them, he always wanted to be alone with her.  It was different when he was alone with her.  With other people around, he couldn’t stare at her too long without being caught, or they couldn’t talk about things from their previous conversations that only they knew about.  With people gone, they could.  He’d stay until Effie told him to go home; if she would even tell him to go home.  He was unsure if she knew she could tell people to leave because she was tired or just wanted to be alone.

“Tomorrow Levi and I are going to go to the mall to get me a laptop for school,” she said, opening her fridge.  “My course starts in June.  It’s going to be really exciting.”

“That’s great,” he said, looking at her from the couch.  “It’s business, right?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically.  “Business administration.  Are you going to come try this pie or what?”

Matthew hauled his sore body off the couch and made his way towards the kitchen, standing next to Effie as she sliced a piece of the pie for him.  He reached over her head and grabbed two plates from the cupboard, setting them down.  Their bodies were close – purposely, he had to admit selfishly, on his part – so that every time she turned the pie and made a slice, her arm and elbow would touch him.  He watched as she carefully plated the slices.

Before she moved to grab the forks, she looked up at Matthew.  “Can I try something?” she asked timidly.

He furrowed his brows slightly.  “Of course.”

Effie hesitated, looking Matthew in the eye, wondering if she should really go through with what’s been on her mind since Andrew’s birthday party.  She resolved with herself to never let fear get in the way of her making a decision in her new life, especially now that she was free to make those decisions.  So she did it.  She did what she wanted to do.

Effie Schaffer stood on her tip-toes and kissed Matthew Tkachuk.  

It was light, chaste, and pure; no tongue, no longer than three seconds, and no warning.  But she kissed him.  With her eyes closed.  And for the first time in a long, long, long time, when she closed her eyes and kissed someone her body didn’t seize up.  When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she didn’t think of the other kisses she had to endure rather than enjoy.  When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she didn’t see Abraham.  Matthew’s lips were much softer; there was nothing about him like was like Abraham, not one atom on his body.  She liked it that way.  And the fact that she didn’t remember her past life when it happened made it all the better for her.

Matthew, for his part, was shocked.  Shocked that she, Effie Schaffer, who grew up abused in a cult and didn’t start wearing pants until just a few months ago, would do something so forward.  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to happen, because he did, against all of his better judgement and the rational side of his brain telling him not to.  “Was that okay for you?” he asked softly.

Effie nodded.  “Of course it was.  I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it would be okay for me.”

Matthew’s word vomit got the best of him.  “Do you think it—”

“Don’t talk to me like you’re my therapist please,” she said quickly.  “Talk to me like you’re a guy.”

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

Effie looked down, suddenly nervous.  She wasn’t second-guessing her decision to kiss him, but what she was doing now was wondering what Matthew thought of it.  He’d kissed her back.  He didn’t just stand there and take the kiss – he kissed her back.  He moved his lips too.  That meant something, right?  “Matthew?” she finally asked, her voice soft.

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?” she asked.

“Of course I like you, Effie.”

“No, I mean do you…do you like me.  Like how boys like girls sometimes.”

Matthew looked her in the eye, his entire ego dropping to the pits of his stomach.  Having the completely inability to be able to lie to her, he gave her a quick nod of the head.  “Yeah, I do.”

Effie bit her bottom lip.  She didn’t know a lot, but she knew this was a huge moment.  But she swallowed hard, her thoughts getting the best of her.  “Even after everything that happened to me?”

Matthew’s heart broke.  It always did when he spoke with Effie.  “Of course,” he said simply.  “You’re not what happened to you.  You’re so much more than that, Effie.”

Effie nodded her head.  She knew that.  Dr. Barlow, Levi, Jenna, Geneviève – everyone important in her life had been telling her that.  She knew it was true, but she needed to hear the words from Matthew.  She couldn’t just assume them.  “I want to let you know that was the first time in my life that I’ve initiated…physical contact with a man,” she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper.  “I did it…I did it with you because I feel comfortable with you.  I wouldn’t have even thought about doing that a year ago but…but you’ve really helped me these past few months, and you make me feel so comfortable to try new things like corn dogs or kissing.  Even just…you know, touching.  I just want you to know that.”

Matthew nodded.  This was huge.  He was pretty sure he hadn’t let out a breath since her lips met his.  “I hope you always feel comfortable around me.”

“I think I will,” she said, smiling slightly.  

Matthew smiled.  “Well, in that case, can I kiss you again?”

“No.”

Matthew chuckled to himself.  Her deadpan delivery dissolved everything.  She was in total control.  “Fair enough.”

Effie moved to grab the forks from the drawer she was standing in front of.  Before she put them on the plates, she looked up at him again.  “But if I kissed you again, would you like it?”

Matthew nodded his head.  “Would you?”

Effie nodded her head.  

***

“What about this?” Matthew asked, pointing to a fake plant hanging from a little black pot.  “Everybody loves fake plants.”

Ikea had a lot of options – too many, if Effie was being honest.  But she nodded her head, and Matthew took the initiative to grab the plant and put it in the cart.  There were a bunch of frames already in there, and some decorative stuff for her new place.  “Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he looked down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

“I’ve got an Americano with room for milk for Matthew!” the barista called out, setting the drink down on the counter.  Matthew approached to grab his drink, bringing it to the other station where he was able to pour in his milk and two packs of brown sugar before popping the lid on.  He rejoined Effie.

“Does it feel like you’re cheating when I bring you to Starbucks?” he asked her in a light-hearted tone.

“Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he was already looking down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

“I think these are your best ones yet,” Matthew said through a mouth full of chocolate-dipped almond biscotti.  Effie was trying out recipes.  He was her unofficial-official taste-tester.  The whole team was, really.  And if they sold well in the coffee shop, the manager would allow her to expand.  So far, so good.  “I love the almond flavour.  It’s there but it’s not too strong, you know?”

He watched as Effie nodded her head.  “Matthew?” she asked, looking at him eye-to-eye since he was sitting down on one of the stools in her kitchen.

He knew what was coming.

She leaned forward and kissed him.  His lips tasted like almonds.

***

“Are you excited for the movie?” Matthew asked as he poured the popcorn from the steaming hot bag into the bowls Effie got for them.

“Very,” she nodded.  Tonight they’d be watching Emma, the 2020 movie version of Jane Austen’s classic.  Effie liked to see all the amazing clothes the women used to wear.  A part of her wanted to dress up like that now, but she knew she’d get stared at.  The other part of her never wanted to wear a dress again if she didn’t have to.  “Matthew?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he looked down at her.  He knew what was coming.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

It was always when the two of them were alone.  It never happened when she would wait for him and Levi and Jacob with Jenna and Geneviève after games.  It never happened if they were ever out with a big group, or even just with Levi and Jenna.  Matthew was sure Effie had told them she was kissing him – she probably told Dr. Barlow too, now that he thought about it – but nobody had ever approached him about it.  “I heard you’ve been kissing Effie.”  

It was always the same, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  They were alone.  They were usually doing something mundane.  Then Effie would ask “Matthew?” in her soft, sweet voice.  He’d look down at her.  She’d go on her tip-toes, and she’d kiss him.

It was always initiated by her.  

***

“Can I take you out on a date?” Matthew asked one day when they were alone in her apartment.  

Effie looked shocked.  Surprised, even, though Matthew didn’t think the question was out of the ordinary.  “You…you want to go out on a date with me?” she asked.

“Yes, of course I do,” Matthew said, wanting there to be no doubts in her mind.  “You know that I like you, Effie.  I think it’s something that could be really fun for you…for us.”

Effie was deep in thought – Matthew could tell.  She nodded slightly.  “We have been doing a lot of kissing lately…” she mused.  He couldn’t help but smile, even though it faded slightly when she looked up at him nervously.  “Matthew, I—I’ve never been on a date before.”

“I figured as much.”

“I mean, I—even with Abraham.  He never—I mean, I was just told I was marrying him because he wanted me.  I told you that.  But even before that.  Women couldn’t date.  Nobody could—I mean most couples were just thrust together, but—but—women weren’t even allowed in the same room alone with the opposite sex because we’d tempt them.”

“I know Effie, it’s okay,” he said softly.  “Listen, if you’re scared or nervous or not ready, we don’t have to.  But you know that I like you.  And I know you like me too.  It’s what people do when they like each other.  So if you’ll let me, we could go out for dinner or something.  Nothing too big or fancy.  Just a dinner.”

If she went on a date with Matthew, Effie would be giving a giant middle finger to her past.  She would be asserting her agency in making her own choices.  She’d be doing something she wasn’t allowed to do for eighteen years of her life.  It was an action of justice at its very core – going on a date with a boy because she liked him and found him attractive.  She wasn’t even allowed to touch other men besides her husband less than two years ago because of his abusive and totalitarian “sermons”.  She remembered back to her begging to her mother not to get married at fourteen and her mother refusing to listen to her.  Here was Matthew saying “If you’re scared or nervous or not ready, we don’t have to.”  

Effie nodded her head.  “I want to go out on a date with you.”

Matthew smiled bashfully.  He was sure his cheeks were going to turn red like some sort of teenager.  “What kind of food d’you wanna eat?”

***

“How’d you get that shiner, buddy?” Sean asked.

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled.

***

“What the hell happened to you?” Johnny asked the moment he saw him in the locker room.

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled.

***

Mark Giordano was not happy to see one of his star players show up to the arena with a black eye.  But he didn’t want to confront Matthew in a full locker room, so he waited until there was only a few people around – and even then, they were far away enough that he knew they wouldn’t really pick up on the conversation.  “What the fuck happened to your eye?” Mark asked, approaching Matthew

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled, not even looking at his captain.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows.  There had to be something, a clue of some sort, to help him get to the bottom of this.  It was nobody’s birthday, so Matthew hadn’t gone out to a bar.  He didn’t get into a fight or scuffle on the ice that was too bad, so it couldn’t have been that either.  But then Mark remembered.  “I thought you spent time with Effie last ni—”

“I said I’m not gonna talk about it!” Matthew hissed as he got up abruptly, stomping away and leaving the room.

Mark took a deep breath in, putting his hands on his hips.  Kids.  He had to get to the bottom of this.  It was in his nature.  And as captain, he took his role seriously.  He needed to make sure his teammates were okay.  The media was definitely going to pick up on the black eye, and they’d need a good cover.  He left the locker room, following the path Matthew took, knowing he was probably letting off some steam in an empty trainer’s room.  Mark popped his head into two of them before finding Matthew in a third, facing away from the door and taping his stick.  Mark knew Matthew heard him walk in and shut the door behind him, but Matthew didn’t turn around.

“Sit,” Mark said sternly.

Matthew took a deep breath in but did as he was told.  He wasn’t going to defy Mark – he respected him way too much.  And he knew he had out let out the steam by telling someone, and Mark was probably the best person to tell.  

Mark sat down casually beside him, hunched over with his elbows on his knees so it looked like they were about to have a casual conversation, just in case anyone else barged in.  “Tell me what happened.”

Matthew took a deep breath.  “I took her out on a date last night.”

“Effie.”

“Yeah,” Matthew nodded slightly.  “And it was nice.  We went to a really nice Italian restaurant downtown.  She was having so much fun.  And she came back to my place and—”

“Please don’t tell me—”

“No no—it wasn’t—no,” he emphasized.  “I might be an idiot but I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“You can’t fault me for thinking it.”

Matthew shook his head.  “She came back to my place and I guess—well, I guess because the whole thing was so new for her, it was mentally exhausting.  She sorta kept saying how tired she was.  I told her she could stay over.  And it was fine.  We were just sleeping in the same bed.”

“And then?”

Matthew grumbled.  “And then I moved.”

There was a pause.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

***

“I’m so sorry,” Effie whispered through tears, looking at Matthew’s back as he sat on the edge of the bed, pressing a bag of frozen peas against his face.

The entire night had been lovely.  She’d felt so good, and so comfortable, and so normal.  The food was delicious.  The walk through the park was magical.  The thing’s they’d talked about ran through her mind the entire night.  They hadn’t stopped talking.  They’d gone back to his place.  She was tired.  He suggested she stay over, knowing Levi wouldn’t mind.  She agreed.  She borrowed an old t-shirt and shorts.  They’d fallen asleep in his bed.  And it was lovely.  

And then at some point, in the middle of the night, with Effie’s back facing Matthew as he switched positions in his sleep, all she felt was a body pressing up against her slightly.  So she did the only thing she needed to do.

She punched him.  Hard.  

She hit between his eye and nose.  A loud “FUCK!” escaped him after the sound of skin hitting skin permeated through his bedroom.  Her body seized up and, like countless times before, she jumped out of bed.  When she turned around to look down at the bed, Matthew was clutching his eye in pain.  It was then that she realized just that – it was Matthew.  It wasn’t Abraham.  

“M—M—Matthew,” she stuttered out.  

“What the fuck, Effie?!” his temper got the best of him.

“M—Matthew—I—I thought—Abraham—I thought you were Abraham—”

With his one clear eye, he looked at her.  His chest was heaving.  But he didn’t say anything.  His shoulders slumped slightly.  And without saying anything, he got up out of the bed and walked out of the room.

Effie immediately dropped to her knees on the bed.  It’s what she would have done before, to ask for forgiveness for denying her husband satisfaction whenever and wherever he wanted it.  But now, in the new world, in her new world, it wasn’t like that.  She didn’t have to repent for her sin.  It didn’t have to be that way.  Abraham wasn’t in bed with her.  It was Matthew.  Sweet, soft, rough around the edges Matthew.

She started crying.  She couldn’t believe that she’d just done that to him.  She cried so hard she didn’t even realize he’d come back into the room quietly, with a bag of peas pressed against his face where she’d punched him.  

After she apologized, and he said nothing, she crawled over to him, the last of her tears spilling over her cheeks.  She lay her hand on his back.  “Matthew—”

He flinched at her touch.  She recoiled her hand back so quickly she didn’t know she could move that fast.  Her heart tightened in her chest, knowing she’d just caused him – and was continuing to cause him – such physical pain, when all he’d given her over the last few months was patience and support.  

Matthew heard her sharp intake of breath when he flinched.  He didn’t mean to flinch – really – he just didn’t expect her to touch him after she’d just punched his face for brushing up against her.  He took a few deep breaths to control his emotions before he looked behind him, seeing her tear-stained face looking at him.  

When he saw the lingering fear in her eyes, he couldn’t be angry.

***

Matthew played his hockey game, and he managed to score a goal and record an assist, but after the game, his mind was somewhere else.  Effie hadn’t shown up to the game; she wasn’t waiting with Jenna and Geneviève, and Jenna told him she was tired from work which is why she stayed home.  He needed to talk to her.  Needed to talk to her.  But he didn’t know how, and he didn’t know what to do.  

Jacob, Geneviève, Levi, and Jenna all left early, leaving him to go home alone.  He trudged down the hallway and took the elevator to the parking garage, his feet dragging on the concrete and he walked with his head down, a storm forming in his mind about what he was going to do.

“Matthew?” he heard a soft voice.

He shot his head up.  For a second he thought he was hallucinating, or some sort of mirage, but no – Effie was in the parking garage, standing right next to his car.  He had no idea how she got in but at this point he didn’t really care.  All he cared about was that she was there.  He rushed over to her as quickly as his legs would take him.  “You’re here,” he said, once he got close to her.  Her face was red and blotchy.  He hated seeing it like that.  It reminded him of the incident in the washroom.  “What’s going on?”

“I spent the whole day crying thinking about what I did to you,” she said, her voice sounding like she was on the verge of tears again.

“Effie, I told you it was alri—”

“It’s not alright, Matthew,” she asserted.  He’d said it all last night while she was profusely apologizing, but she didn’t believe him.  He’d said it up until she was picked up by a taxi to be taken back to her place.  He’d begged her to stay.  She couldn’t see how she could when she’d just punched him in the face.  “I wish you would stop saying that.  I hit you.  I gave you a black eye.  Nothing about that is alright—”

“Effie—”

“I just—I thought you were Abraham because he’d do that a lot and—because I would always try to say no otherwise, and so he had to get me at a point where—”

“EFFIE,” he said loudly, over her frantic voice, and she stopped immediately.  They stared at each other for a few moments in pure silence before Effie could feel Matthew’s hands grab hers.  He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she nestled her face into his chest and inhaled his scent.  A wave of peace flowed throughout her body.  He hadn’t asked to touch her, but at the same time, she hadn’t flinched.  His touch was so…so pure and so soft – so unlike anything else she’d felt before – that there was no reason to flinch or be scared.  His hands wouldn’t hurt her like other hands had.  She realized this, inhaling his scent one more time.  He wouldn’t hurt her.

When he released the hug, she brought her own hands up to cradle his face.  His facial hair was a bit rough against her skin, but it was still the softest she’d ever felt on a man.  Maybe it was because he always gave her butterflies.  Maybe it was something else.  “You’re so soft, Matthew…” her voice was barely above a whisper.  

“What’s that mean?” he asked, his voice equally as low.  “I’m not soft.”

“Yes, you are.  You are for me,” she clarified. ��“You’re the softest man I’ve ever felt.  I don’t want that to change.”

He realized what she meant now.  It hit him like a ton of bricks, like most things did with Effie.  “It won’t,” he asserted.  “You can count on me.”

“I know I can,” she nodded her head.

Matthew couldn’t take it anymore.  They couldn’t continue this in the parking garage.  “Can I take you back to my place again and we can talk?  Properly?”

Effie nodded her head.  

***

Matthew let Effie roam in his kitchen while he changed out of his suit into some comfier clothes.  When he emerged from his room, Effie was sitting on his couch – just like she had been last night – a glass of water in her hand, sipping from it delicately.  He knew she’d end up back on his couch since she had commented last night how big and comfy it was.  Matthew didn’t even know where it was from – it came with the apartment.  But ever since she’d sat on it and made the comment, he found it comfier.

He walked over to her slowly, and she watched him, not saying a word.  Instead of taking a seat beside her, he knelt in front of her, between her legs.  He was still almost at eye level with her.  Boldly, he took the glass of water out of her hand and set it down on the coffee table.  He grabbed her hands in his and rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumb tenderly.  “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“What happened that night?  After you punched Abraham?”

Effie was silent for a moment.  “I…I—I got pregnant.”

The words stabbed Matthew in the heart.  He squeezed her hands to let go of some pain, and she squeezed back.  “I’m so sorry for what I did, Effie—”

“You have nothing to apologize about,” she said.  “You did nothing wrong.”

“But I scared you.  And I promised I’d never do that.  And it brought up bad memories…”

Effie was shaking her head.  “You didn’t scare me.  My mind did.  My mind thought you were Abraham.  But you’re the farthest thing from him, Matthew, and you need to know that.  You don’t scare me at all.  Not even a bit.  Not like Abraham scared me.”

Matthew bit his tongue so he could feel some pain and keep himself from crying.  To think about how she was so scared for eighteen years of her life, and now she wasn’t, and part of that was because he was around, helping her feel comfortable…he couldn’t have asked for anything more.  He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty for what happened, especially since Effie was telling him what she was telling him, but he knew he would for a while.  It’d take him a while to get over it.  “When we went on the date…did you—I mean, did you just do it because you felt like you had to?  Because you had to experience a first date to be normal or whatever?  Or did you actually want to?” he asked.

“I actually wanted to,” she said without hesitation.  Matthew could feel his heart beating in his chest.  “I wanted to, and with you.  Not with another guy and not with, like, Sean or whatever,” she said, and it made Matthew break out into a smirk.  “It was you.  And even though…I mean—I mean I think we could…and we would…” she tried to formulate her thought into coherent words.  

“But I don’t know if we should,” he finished her sentence.

Effie nodded.  “At least not yet.  I’m not—I’m not mentally there yet.  I’m not ready.  And it wouldn’t be fair to bring you along so closely with something I know I’m not ready for.  There’s so much I still need to learn…about, well…everything.”

Matthew nodded his head.  He understood completely.  “You know that I never expected anything, right?” he asked.

“Oh, of course not,” she said like it was the obscenest idea in the world.  She knew Matthew would never expect that of her.  “I think what’ll be good is you going home during the summer, and me starting my course in June…and by the time you come back in September, you might even see a brand new me.”

Matthew couldn’t help but smile at that.  He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs again.  “You’re already a brand new person, Effie.  When I come back you’ll just be wiser.  Do you promise to message me on Instagram about everything you learn and the stuff you experience?”

Effie nodded her head, a smile adorning her face now.  “Matthew?” she asked after a moment of silence.

This time, he looked up at her.  He knew what was coming.

This time, she didn’t need to stand on her tip-toes.  All she had to do was lean forward and kiss him.

[humankoalaa]

representation matters. periodt.

straight “maybe” queer actresses feeling the need to try silence viewers or filter our frustrations and opinions just because they don’t want to and or can’t handle honest criticism is so on brand yet still surprising. danielle savre made a video that honestly did more harm than good.

her sexuality isn’t anyones business but let’s not pretend that she didnt know what she was doing, especially in those lives. i didnt want to make this while angry and frustrated but here we are.

you cannot be an ally when it’s convenient. you can’t only want to speak up especially against hate and ignorance when it’s convenient. it doesn’t matter who in her life is queer and what she did for them. it doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t queer in real life. bottom line is she is playing a queer character involved in a disrespectful storyline and can’t handle what comes with that. im talking about the CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.

if you are honest with yourself and not entertaining or blindly following her views on what’s in the tags keep reading. if you’re glorifying her for that video, just stop reading or continue if you want to understand why people are so upset over this storyline and that video. regardless of the outcome of this storyline. it is flat out disrespectful. if she is queer that’s a whole other level of SMFH because there’s the door, it would like a word.

i honestly am trying to be respectful. she spoke on donating her eggs to a gay couple one i believe is her childhood friend or both are. GREAT. its still equivalent to a homophonic family member saying they accept and love you because you’re their loved one. doesn’t matter, still disrespectful.

she spoke about the baby storyline and why it was important to her. why it was important it be done with RESPECT because of how personal it is to her. lol. k. why are we now not even singing the same tune just trying to silence the entire band danielle?

as an actress she herself has stated she feels a responsibility to get “IT” right. k. if you’re going to put that responsibility on yourself, you cannot cower away especially when the criticism is warranted and constructive. that video was unnecessary. just like this storyline. at one point she says it doesn’t feel safe to engage with all the things being said. …. k.

danielle… imagine not feeling safe in your own home because you’re queer and your family might as well be everyone else who feels you’re a disgrace. imagine not feeling safe around family because a family member we said they would tie you to the back of their car and drag the dyke out of you. imagine not feeling safe out in the world because you’re queer. imagine not feeling safe for simply existing because of your sexuality. your not feeling safe to engage on social media is not the same as the nightmare we live for no other reason than loving who we love.

don’t pull the it isn’t intentional and actors and writers have feelings cop out. you don’t think the queer community has feelings too? as human beings queer or not we all have feelings and hurt whether it’s intentional or not so please with this narrative.

who in the hell is going to sit there and be like oh wow this is beautiful storytelling. she got cheated on hates the guy but doesn’t anymore m so she suggests he be the donor because she is desperate for a baby and his sperm is right there . this story is ridiculous in every community no matter who or what you identify as because WHAT. THEE. ACTUAL. hell.

she makes a video basically calling out fans who have voiced their opinions. we all know how fans can get. i am not condoning that kind of hate. i am speaking about the CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. she talks about how the backlash has made her not want to engage on social media for the exact same reasons why fans are frustrated over this storyline. someone left a very respectful comment basically detailing why the community feels the way we do.

-her response- “I respect your opinion and your feelings about the specific storyline no one is trying to insult fans or insult LGBT Fanbase. please understand there are real people who also happens to be just as much a part of the LGBT community as all of their queer counterparts that are writing and creating the show. real people and actors doing their best to bring entertainment and meaningful representation to all of you every week” … k. textbook. on brand.

1. it’s not about who is or isn’t trying to insult fans or the community. that’s where most of these actors show how disconnected they are to reality. no one is saying or even insinuating that we feel this storyline is on purpose. we’re not that damn sensitive. we’re literally just saying the story line is disrespectful …because it is…. k? very good.

2. please understand that queer writers and creators are responsible for this mess? danielle, please understand that just because they’re real people and part of the community doesn’t mean we’re supposed to or are going to be on board by default. again, the door would like a word. the viewers that keep y’all employed are very much real people too danielle. it’s the community name dropping for me tho.

3. “real people and actors doing their best to bring entertainment and meaningful representation” … there is literally nothing entertaining about a baby storyline that involves desperation and laziness.. literally nothing. AGAIN, there’s the door.

4. the audacity. . mEaNiNgFuL rEpReSeNtAtIoN?! cut it tf out. regardless of how this turns out. this is not meaningful or even remotely close to healthy representation. the fact that queer writers and creators on the show are proud of this is just so incredibly sad. this storyline is degrading and unnecessary. the fact that she felt the need to disclose that queers are responsible for this storyline only made the situation worst because her ignorance is front and center. what was that information suppose to do?

the queer community most of the time would watch anything with even a little bit of alright representation. we have given this show and many like it the benefit of the doubt and we’re queerbaited or left disappointed 97% of the time. it passes and it’s just the same cycle over and over. these creators have no issue when they’re praised for mediocrity. but the minute there’s criticism it’s a block party.

this is the first time ive seen a show that prides itself on being diverse and whatever other textbook word vomit actors and creators spew when they are full of themselves literally not know what to say to even the CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. they can’t connect to any of the frustrations because they’ve never experienced it or they’re queer and have sold their souls to appease to the “norm” . you’re queer . literally not possible. they still don’t like or respect you. you’re a paycheck. k.

the cheating storyline wasn’t enough. let’s makes sure the viewers never forget about it by shoving jack down the throats of viewers who don’t understand how and why his redemption arc needs to be used in this storyline. make it make sense. please. like these writers couldn’t think of any other way to redeem jack? they absolutely could have.

here’s the thing. the draw to that show isn’t the lead and it hasn’t been … ever. it become even more noticeable when maya and carina met in that bar. they know marina draws in viewers. what they didn’t expect is the community actively dong what’s needed to be done for years now. use our OWN voices, thumbs, talk to text everything. y’all gon hear and see us.

no decent human being is just gonna be like yup i know i caused you a lot of pain. here’s my sperm since you’re desperate. don’t you ever forget it. like in what world is this okay? maybe years ago when the community just bent over? whatever. thats over and done with. it’s 2022 and this generation isn’t having it. y’all will be held accountable. if you’re going to run your mouth and talk respect and representation… prove it.

it’s bad enough that we have to deal with people who take issue with queer storylines/characters etc on their favorite tv shows or in movies. now we have to deal with essentially welcoming more ignorance because the writers and creators are queer? … the door, and don’t slam it on your way out.

i expect this kind of disrespect from writers who have no business writing queer stories. meaningful representation takes effort. meaningful healthy representation means taking the time to think beyond ourselves. meaningful representation requires welcoming CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. i keep putting it in all caps because if you look in the tags… 97% is CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.

truthfully im just disappointed. its just a paycheck for these people. they love the attention, brag about ships, entertain the are they or aren’t they etc. welcoming questions and such because it helps the ratings. now people don’t reallly care and the draw just isn’t there. why? the actresses themselves and this damn storyline they’re expecting the queer community to eat up.

plot twist. we would rather starve. i want to know if they would be okay with this storyline being their actual real life dilemma. there is no damn way. so why do they expect us to be okay with it? oh yeah because thats what we used to do. not anymore. the days of saying what they think we want to hear is over with. those rehearsed textbook answers about diversity and representation matters don’t mean anything anymore.

at some point the show will no longer be on air and she won’t have to worry about the community . unfortunately people like myself do. we don’t get to just block every single person that has hurt us because of our sexuality. we don’t get to come on the internet making videos asking people to be nice because we can’t handle what comes with being queer. we don’t get to act queer. we don’t get to shut it off ever. we are people living the life you are getting paid to live on television. the most we can do is turn off the tv.

you don’t get to act like your hurt is just as or more important than ours. you get to shut the hurt off because it’s not your real life. you get to sit and read comments where people glorify you for standing up for your character, yourself, and these writers and creators. why? because they are obsessed and think you’re gonna notice and validate them for appreciating and respecting your “art”. k.

surprise surprise. and actress using their “art”and passion as a cop out. we are passionate about our community and the stories being told just like they are about their art. we are living their art. you don’t want your art tainted and critiqued then do better. encourage these writers that you love so much to DO BETTER.

imagine putting the same energy used to bitch and complain about hurt feelings when the comments are filled with homophonic slander and unjust hate. imagine. instead, that hate is conveniently ignored because it’s not their feelings being hurt, yet we are expected or asked to be nicer and respectful or we’ll get blocked? weird.

why not ignore the 3% and speak on the 97% why not address the CONSTRUCTIVE critisim? time and time again entertainers respond to more hate than good. they respond to the feelings of people who dead ass just want to be hateful. that is their only agenda. she literally could’ve simply blocked the 3% but no. she decided to make a video that is only going to cause more of that kind of hate because she fed into the keyboard warriors. that kind of hate is always addressed. why? make it make sense.

im not saying she just needs to deal with it. im simply saying that video was not a good look. no one needed to know she would be blocking people for being disrespectful etc etc. but she herself needs the validation from people that glorify her for doing nothing.

i just don’t understand how anyone involved in this storyline expected it to be met with anything but WTF. the same way she doesn’t want to engage with viewers because of the hate is the same way we don’t want to deal with society, and the hate. this is bigger than you and social media danielle.

DO BETTER.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Important asset [Billy Russo x Reader]

Title: Important asset Pairing: Billy Russo x Female!Reader Word count: 3k Published: 22 April 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first Billy Russo fic, I hope it's not that bad, I'm still trying to get a hold of his character :) Summary: [x] Being a former military personal gives you the opportunity to work for Billy’s company. Becoming a very important part of the company provides you with an even closer relationship with your boss. However, he seems to be deliberately dancing on your nerves, increasing your already built-up frustration.

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Working for Anvil felt like a safe place. After serving your country for years, coming back from your last tour turned out to be more difficult than you could have anticipated. Protecting important personals and working as security wasn’t something you wished to do, but after starting the job, working along with people who have been through what you have, your view of the company has changed. The job was different, but the people you worked with have given you more support than anyone, including your family, friends or your therapist for that matter.

Joining Anvil wasn’t easy, the requirement process raised some issues that you had to overcome. The physical part didn’t offer any difficulty, but the mental exam seemed to present some obstacles. It wasn’t until your second try that you have been approved and joined the team. That was when you met Mr. Russo, CEO and founder of Anvil. He was just as handsome as you have heard, and he had a way with words. He was confident and knew just how to use his charm. Even if you wanted to deny your sudden interest in him, you couldn’t have.

It seemed that even if he didn’t look at you as a woman, he certainly found your abilities interesting. You didn’t just become one with the team, a crucial member, but also became one of Billy’s most important assets. Having both good communications skills and excellent combat skills meant your worth in Billy’s eyes have grown and provided a great deal of opportunity for you to stay beside him. Officially you weren’t an assistant, but unofficially, Billy liked to give you a nice amount of work, keeping you close by from early morning to late afternoon or evening, sometimes past 10pm.

“Mr. Russo,” you called out to him as you walked behind him in a narrow corridor of the Anvil headquarters. Billy turned around, adjusting his tie with a confident smirk across his face. “I heard you were looking for me,” you added as you finally arrived beside him, glancing up at his handsome features, looking very professional in his expensive suit. You wanted to look feminine and pretty, instead of being dirty and sweaty, wearing a pair of tracksuits, but sometimes your work required you to look more worn out than you wished to be. He had a certain aura that kept pulling you towards him, but as confident as you were in your abilities to protect your country and your people, you were just as uncertain about your appearance when you appeared in front of Billy.

“Yes, I have. Care to explain why I can't reach you on your phone?” He asked, his features unimpressed with your lack of availability.

“I was training, I can’t possibly bring my phone with me everywhere,” you replied frowning, but you quickly adjusted your expressions, before he could have scolded you. It was clear that he wasn’t happy with your reply, but he dismissed it after all.

“Come to my office at 1700 hours. I have a couple things to discuss with you,” he replied in an authoritative manner.

“I have to train the new recruits at 4,” you explained, but he just shook his head.

“Ask someone to replace you,” he stated firmly, accepting no objection. But you took your job very seriously and even though Billy was your boss, often you found yourself going against his decisions just to spite him.

“I can’t do that,” you stated, lips pursed to emphasise your objection. “There’s no one to cover me,” you added. His firm stance and sharp inhale reassured you that he was anything but happy with your answer. He took a step forward, forcing you to take a step back and collide with the wall behind you. Your chest felt as though it was a small box, containing only a small portion of oxygen, its lack of tightened your throat, starting your heart off in a dangerous pace, pounding hard against your ribcage. Billy’s presence always made you feel as though you couldn’t breathe. A simple gaze in your direction, a confident grin, his low, deep voice calling your name made you weak at the knees and left your mind wandering to paths you should have never gone to, causing thousands of butterflies to erupt in your belly.

“I’m your boss and I can change your schedule whenever I want to. I want to see you in my office at 1700 sharp, or else—” he didn’t finish the end of his sentence, but you were sure his ideas were entirely different from yours.

“Or else—?” It escaped your mouth involuntarily, receiving a low growl from Billy, a threatening aura, still it didn’t frighten you, if anything it encouraged you further. “I think we both know you will not fire me, Mr. Russo. I’m a very important asset to your company. I am a very dedicated employee and therefore I will try to adjust my schedule to fit your request, but I cannot promise anything, unless you personally can provide someone to take over from me,” you replied in a challenging manner, earning a questioningly raised brow from Billy. Trying to read his face you couldn’t decide if he was actually considering helping you or he was planning how to murder you in the spot.

A heavy sigh left his lungs, but he didn’t back away. “I will send Simon to cover you,” he said between gritted teeth.

“That is absolutely brilliant, I’m so glad we are on the same page,” you exclaimed with a wide grin across your face as you turned around to leave the man behind. However, before you could have left, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back against him, your palms landing on his hard chest, feeling every inch of each fine muscle under your touch.

“Pay attention to your attitude because it has gotten out of hands recently and you are standing on a very fine line,” he whispered, his breath tickling your cheeks. Indeed, you have been rather free with your words and actions around Billy, and you knew you were playing with fire, but it seemed that was the only way to get his attention.

“I might be pushing some boundaries, but my only intention is for the company to work effectively, to produce people that do their tasks efficiently meanwhile wearing Anvil’s name with pride. If I neglect my duties and ignore my job, even if it’s for your request, what use am I to the company?” you asked with a certain pride. Whilst your intention was to object to Billy once again, to be somewhat bratty, every word that left your lips were true. Anvil has given you more than you could have ever wished for and not even Billy could stop you from making this company one of the most well-working organisations.

Billy took a sharp inhale, trying to decide whether you were just being spoilt once again, because you were indeed aware of your own worth, or if the company really took priority in your eyes. His nod reassured you of the latter as he let go of your arm.

“I like the way you are thinking, but it doesn’t excuse your attitude. You are an important asset to the company, but not irreplaceable. By the time you come to see me in the afternoon, try to get rid of it,” he spoke sternly, before he shook his head and offered you a cocky grin as he turned around and left you in the corridor. You couldn’t stop the tiny smile from appearing in the corner of your lips, his expression reassured you that you were anything but invisible in his eyes.

As you were leading a shooting session for your team, Billy interrupted your practice, clearing his throat whilst leaning against the doorframe, watching your people. You looked at your watch, afraid of being late, but according to your time, you weren’t even anywhere near the time you were supposed to be in his office.

“Keep practising,” you instructed them as you walked back to Billy, whose arms were folded in front of his chest, his eyes following every step you took towards him. “Is everything okay?” you asked as you stopped in front of him.

“Hmm,” he replied with a simple hum and a single nod. He seemed to have something on his mind, and you were sure he would soon voice his opinion. Biting his lip, he grimaced slightly. “Your team needs more practice,” he added nonchalantly. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned around to check on the targets. Indeed, there were some errors, but you were overall satisfied with their performance, they were former members of the US Armed Forces after all. Inhaling sharply, you turned back to him, staring at his expressionless face.

“Is this really why you came here?” You asked with a questioningly raised brow.

“I was just wondering how useful you are to the company since you have been walking around voicing your importance. Just like you did in the morning, if I recall correctly,” he shrugged casually.

“Let me see if I understand. After all I have done for the company and for you, now you are checking on my people and my progress, questioning how much we are worth to your goddamn company?” You hissed in anger. Billy seemed to be on a roll attempting to piss you off at any given time. Usually, you could keep your act together, but he has done nothing but insulted you that day and he was very close to reaching your limits. You stared into his eyes and in the lowest, most threatening tone you could manage, you continued. “Listen to me Russo, I can take a lot, I’m quite a resilient person, but I’m very close to walking out of here and never coming back. If you would like me to leave then say it, but if not and you would like me to keep working for you, then let me do my job and leave me alone for the rest of the day,” you exhaled sharply and after a deadly gaze directed at your boss, you turned away and joined your team. Your blood was boiling from the amount of anger he could bring out in you, as if he found your frustration entertaining. Although you expected him to come after you and give you a monologue about humbling yourself, by the time you looked back towards the entrance, he was long gone.

It was already 5pm and Simon was nowhere to be found. You instructed the new recruits to take a 5-minute break from the exercises you have given them as you rocked from one leg to the other trying to calm yourself, slowly exhaling and inhaling. Preparing for the scolding you were about to receive from Billy, your blood pressure had risen. You groaned as you saw Simon run through the door, heavily apologising for his lateness. Shaking your head, you walked up to him and instructed him about the details of the recruits’ further training. By the time you were supposed to be in Billy’s office, you were jogging across the narrow corridors of Anvil, trying to minimise the nagging Billy was about to give you for not arriving in time.

“You are late,” you heard his voice as you opened the door, grimacing at the harsh tone. Billy didn’t even look up from his desk, his eyes were attached to the paperwork he was signing off.

“Not my fault,” you added, walking up to the table and sitting down across Billy.

“I told you to be precise,” he groaned, unhappy about your lateness.

“Next time send someone who actually appears in time,” you retorted, feeling fed up with his continued scolding.

“Once again you have that attitude,” he cleared his throat in frustration.

“Russo!” You shot up from your chair, placing your hands on his paperwork, staring straight into his eyes. “I’m aware that I have a slight problem with my attitude, but I don’t think it’s fair that you blame me for something I had no say in. You have asked Simon to replace me, still at 5pm sharp I was still in the training hub alone with the recruits, because he was late,” you replied firmly.

“I don’t think I have asked for an excuse, so why do I have to listen?” He asked with a deep frown, slowly standing up from his chair, his stance projecting authority. But at that moment, you couldn’t care less. Your blood was rushing through your veins, your built-up frustration threatening to reveal itself. As if Billy’s mere purpose was to dance on your nerves. And he was successful.

“Billy,” you called his first name with clenched teeth. You have gotten used to calling him Mr. Russo or Russo, even though you were close to each other. However recently he has been deliberately annoying you and you couldn’t take it anymore. Indeed, you wanted to get some kind of reaction out of him with your brattiness, but receiving the same attitude didn’t seem that entertaining. You knew you were supposed to be professional when you were working, even though he made it his mission to piss you off, but you just lost your self-control. “I have done nothing for this company but work my ass off to help you. When you asked, I had to be at two even three places at the same time. I have no life, because every single free time and day off I’m supposed to be having, I have to spend here to help you. I don’t mind, because I love working here and I want to make this company a better place. But you are the one talking about my attitude, even though I have never asked for anything in return?! Have I ever asked for a raise even if you dumped hours of work on me? You keep me here from early morning to late evening and I’ve never once complained, still you dare to talk about my attitude? Please, tell me what your problem is with me, because recently I feel like it’s your mission to get on my nerves. At this point the only thing I can think of is that you want me to quit because that’s the kind of hostility that comes across from you,” you huffed releasing all your frustration on your boss.

“You—” he wanted to speak up, but you didn’t let him. It was your time to talk, and you didn’t even give him a chance to object.

“No, I’m speaking,” you interrupted him, earning a sharp inhale from the man. “I understand that I’m only a mere subordinate, and I know I should not have the attitude that I do take on sometimes, but I am still a human and I don’t have to deal with your moodiness on a daily basis,” you hissed. “Tell me honestly, is it your mission to get me to quit? Because at this point you are very close to forcing me to resign and—” you had no way to finish the sentence as Billy grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips against his, earning a moan from you. He only let go of you for a second to get around the table, his movements quick as though he was a lion hunting down his prey. He attached his lips to yours once again, pushing you up on the table and positioning himself between your thighs. He sneaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his other hand firmly holding you close to him by the back of your neck, wanting nothing but to reduce the proximity between the two of you.

“Do you ever shut up?” He asked, breathing heavily against your lips. “I hear nothing but your continuous yapper,” he groaned as he laid his forehead against yours, massaging random patterns on your thigh. “Why on earth do you think I have given you so much job to do, you dumb woman? Can you be any more oblivious? I didn’t just dump all those random tasks on you and left you to do them, did I? I stayed behind with you, isn’t that, right?” he asked through gritted teeth. “You really know how to get on my nerves, and this certainly isn’t how I imagined this to come out, but you make it impossible for me to keep my cool,” he inhaled slowly, forcefully pulling you closer to him as he stood between your legs, making you moan at the contact. “I’m going to give you two options now,” he stated as he took a step back, giving you space to think. You can walk out that door, act like nothing happened and we will go back to being a boss and an employee. Or you can stay, and we continue what we started. But then there’s no turning back. I don’t just let go of what’s mine,” for a moment you ran the options through a logical part of your mind, that screamed for you to walk out the door. But you couldn’t possibly listen to the voice when you could finally be Billy’s after you have done so much for the man you longed for.

You grabbed his belt and pulled him between your legs, whispering against his lips. “Close that door,” Billy’s jaw clenched and without a second to waste he stood by the door, locking it behind him and getting back to you in haste, capturing your lips with his hands exploring every part of your body.

“So, have I become irreplaceable now?” You asked with a proud, overly confident grin as his hands tried to remove your shirt impatiently. His eyes darkened at your words, his hands stopping mid-air.

“Don’t get cocky with me,” he groaned, grabbing your jaw and connecting your lips once again, trying to get you out of your clothes. Whatever Billy called you for was long forgotten for the rest of the evening, you were busier with each other’s company.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglist is in a reblog from now on.

[otonymous]

⚠️ PSA: Everybody Hurts (When People Repost)

Hello @thebestaqua32​,

Thank you very much for your Ask.  I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you are reaching out to ask me for permission before actually doing so.  Unfortunately, I do NOT allow my work to be reposted by anyone other than myself, on any platform, whether it is Wattpad, Instagram, Twitter, etc.

What follows is by no means directed towards you, dear @thebestaqua32​, but I thought I’d take this opportunity to talk about something many creators (writers and artists alike) have been dealing with for a while now, and me, myself, recently.

Over the course of the past 3-4 weeks, I have found instances of my work being reposted to no less than 3 different platforms, once with attribution in difficult to see fine print with no links back to the original source of my work, and twice with absolutely no credit at all.  As you can probably imagine, it was quite upsetting to me that pieces I’ve worked so incredibly hard on was being distributed in such a manner, and a lot of time and energy was expended in order to rectify the situation — time and energy that could’ve been otherwise used to create more content for my lovely readers and followers.

Unfortunately, reposting without permission from authors and artists is a common occurrence, and some may not realize the damage doing so can inflict.  I seek here to try to explain why reposting in this manner hurts everybody, not just the content creator.

Argument #1: 

“How can I possibly hurt someone by reposting their work?  The more likes and comments I generate on this post of mine just means I’m giving them free publicity!”

This is something I’ve heard many reposters say in defence of their actions, and while publicity is definitely a good thing for content creators, that is only the case if the people consuming a piece could be bothered to check its original source — that is, if exposure is a guarantee of user traffic being driven back to the creator’s website, social media accounts, etc.  And oftentimes, especially in this digital age of “see it and forget it” fast-consumption, most cannot be bothered to do so — the action that is one-step removed proves to be too much of an effort, even if it is merely clicking a link.

Please also consider this: many creators depend on commissions to make a living.  This avenue of revenue has only become more important in current times because we are in the midst of a pandemic.  People are literally relying on these funds to pay their rent and feed and support themselves and their families.  The ability of a creator to support themselves is thus dependent on the size of their fan base or their numbers of followers.  If people cannot be bothered to check the original source of a piece of writing or artwork, this essentially cuts down on their potential earnings.  You cannot commission a piece from someone or support them if you don’t know of their existence.

This is especially so if things are reposted without proper credit at all, as was the case with one of my works.  The worst part was that the stolen piece was taken from a project where the proceeds from all commissions were being donated to charity.  In doing so, the thousands of people who liked this post had no way of finding out about this charity project, which means that even if they would’ve been interested in donating, they would not have known how.  In essence, this translated to less money being raised to help those who really needed it in dire times.

So please, please, please do not think that the act of reposting hurts no one because that is simply not the case.  There needs to be a direct link between people that engage with the content and the creator, which is why reblogging on Tumblr is excellent (feel free to reblog any of my content here if you wish, dear @thebestaqua32​) and retweeting (without quotes!) on Twitter is great.  These are among the best ways to support us!

Argument #2: The act of reposting could potentially contribute to the decline of a fandom.

Imagine you spent hours, days or even weeks working on something — pouring your heart and soul into a piece — and when you finally shared it to the world, not much happened.  Maybe you got a few likes here or there, a couple of comments if you were very lucky.  How would you feel?  What conclusion would you draw?  Some might feel discouraged, others might stop creating altogether.

Imagine then, that same post receiving tons of comments and likes and legitimate shares because someone with a bigger following reposted it on their own social media account without your knowledge.  Imagine what you would’ve done with this information — the feeling that others loved and enjoyed your work and wanted to see more.  Perhaps it might’ve encouraged you to continue creating.

Case in point:

I wrote this letter.  And if I weren’t alerted to the existence of this post, I would’ve never known that thousands of others had liked my work.  Also, that’s 124 comments I didn’t get the chance to read.  Furthermore, this was a piece that was written for the charity project.  Imagine how many potential donors we might have received if people knew about its source.

Feedback is absolutely crucial to creators.  It enables us to discover what others did and did not like.  Not only can it serve as a compass of sorts to guide our artistic progress and work (and create pieces that can cater to the needs and desires of those who consume it), it is also a point of communication between members of a given fandom.  It builds community.  And without a strong sense of community, a fandom flounders and could eventually fizzle out.

Without content creators, there is very little for people to consume.  Please support all of us by not reposting our work, especially without our knowledge and/or permission.

With that being said, please accept a giant THANK YOU from me to you for reading till the very end.  It is very much appreciated. 🙏🏻💕

[love-takes-work]

Live on Instagram, Rebecca Sugar and Ben Levin (with help from Ian Jones-Quartey) have given us a two-hour fundraiser to benefit the Trevor Project, in honor of Bi+ Awareness Week.

It was a lovely evening hanging out with them. Please see below for a little breakdown of what songs they played and what was discussed during the stream in terms of bi+ youth resources, Rebecca’s experiences, and the importance of having support for bi+ people.

Please go to The Trevor Project and learn more about what they do and how you can help. Their Resources for Bi+ Youth packet is available on the site! You can also donate through Rebecca’s specific fundraiser.

More below:

Rebecca announces this event is for Bi+ Awareness week for the Trevor Project. Ian Jones-Quartey is giving some help with the fundraiser in the background.

First Rebecca plays "Love Like You" on guitar. It's a lovely stripped down version. They're a little bashful about making a couple glitches on the guitar. It's very sweet and charming, Rebecca, no one minds. :)

Next Ben Levin joins on bass and they play "Fries," a longer version than was in the Adventure Time show.

Then Rebecca talks about the Trevor Project and its suicide hotline that they provide for the LGBTQIA+ youth they support. After some tech glitches, they discuss how great Trevor is and what resources and research they provide on why it's so important to support these communities. Since this is Bi+ Awareness Week, they have put together a resource guide. They encourage us to donate to this organization.

Rebecca discusses Ben Levin's involvement on Steven Universe and Craig of the Creek. They decide to play Jeff Rosenstock's song "Illegal Fireworks and Hiding Bottles in the Sand" as a mashup with the Craig of the Creek ending song.

Then they give an update on the donation amounts and Rebecca gets so excited about the support. They admit to being really nervous after no performances for so long.

Rebecca decides to play a solo song and doesn't announce the title at first but Steven Universe fans all know "Escapism." It's a slightly different version with some great guitar additions in an added interlude, and they even throw in some fun super-high squeaky notes at the end.

They give a shoutout to Jeff Liu for the beautiful guitar part. They tell a story about Adam Muto (who worked on "Escapism" with Joe and was Rebecca's board partner on Adventure Time), and how he asked Rebecca to write a song for the Adventure Time finale. Rebecca goes on to play "Time Adventure."

Then they bring Ben back to do the bass while Rebecca sings "I'm Just Your Problem." Rebecca does a cool guitar solo in the middle while Ben rocks on the bass.

Then they do a nice little instrument switch and bring in the omnichord and set up "True Kinda Love." They shout out Chance the Rapper, aivi and surasshu, and of course Estelle for the help writing this song.

Rebecca gets excited again about the amount of people who have donated and gives us info about the hotline for the Trevor Project, how their hotline is available for phone, chat, and text. They also point out the existence of Trevor Project's available pamphlet, which can help people understand their Bi+ friends and family, as well as helping actually Bi+ people understand how they can expect to be treated, how to understand themselves, and that they aren't defined by their partner.

Rebecca then takes a moment to set up with an acoustic guitar (so they can have their foot on a box since they don't have a strap) and they cut out briefly to get it organized. Then they do indeed come back with their foot on box.

With a shoutout to Kate Micucci (who is watching on Instagram Live), Rebecca says she will play "a Lars and Sadie song" that she's figuring out on guitar, and plays "Be Wherever You Are."

Rebecca goes back to getting excited about the donation amount and they can't believe it's as high as it is with the concert less than half over! They say they'd like to make a tradition of doing a Bi+ Awareness Week fundraiser every year. She didn't have access to information that Trevor is now providing to bi youth when she was growing up in the 2000s, and thinks their resources are so vital. She suggests using their resources yourself or that you slip the resources to people in your life who want to support (or need to know more about how to support) bi youth.

Rebecca says they're about to play a "really really hard" song that they're nevertheless excited to go for. They said maybe we can guess what it is. They shout out Nick DeMayo, who's in the audience, the animation director of Steven Universe who is Greg's namesake and taught them a lot about music. And then they jump into . . . a guitar and bass version of "Other Friends"!

They shout out aivi and surasshu, Jeff Liu, and Sarah Stiles for all their contributions to that song, and how cool it is to play a "campfire version" of the song even though it's different.

Next, she wants to play a solo (but will need Ben again right after!) but takes a moment to thank everyone in attendance for supporting the stream and the Trevor Project. They say "thank you for bearing with me" regarding the performance rockiness. 

They talk about Marceline and how they felt so connected to this character--writing episodes like "What Was Missing" where Marceline would be revealed to have had a relationship with Bubblegum and be known to be a bi character, and Rebecca felt so astonished that the audience understood Marceline was bi and understood she would always be bi, not fluctuating in orientation based on current relationships defining her. Rebecca explored this about herself only after she saw it explored with Marceline, and understood it was so important to have media that helps people understand who a bi person might be. She never related to the "party person" or extrovert stereotype of bi people as they’re usually shown in media, and thought as a nerdy person who was shy, she couldn't be bi if that was true. Cartoons helped her connect with people who understood those things about Marceline and eventually about herself. 

Trevor is so important as an organization to help the next generation understand all of this. Rebecca has felt that knowing herself wasn't possible if she didn't understand her bisexuality or accept it as what it is, and it spread instability throughout the rest of her life. What brought her to finally being able to process and understand this aspect of her identity was cartoons, and she hopes cartoons can bring some others in as well. With that, she brings out the song she was asked to write for Marceline even though she had left the show. Rebecca plays "Everything Stays."

Rebecca then says they were a little conflicted about whether they were going to say all that stuff, about why this issue is personal to them. (It's okay, Rebecca, this is the best!!!) 

She says that song was about her stuffed black rabbit that was her favorite toy that she thought she loved so much, but she forgot it in the garden and it was damaged. That it was so surprising to her that she could have loved this rabbit the way she did and not realize it was missing, and that it could change without her. "Everything Stays" was obviously about that, but she also says the situation with Spinel was inspired by the same toy. She switches to electric guitar to sing and play "Drift Away" with Ben back on board on bass.

They point out that they're rocketing through the set list and Ian suggests maybe they'll have to do some encores. In thinking about what songs to play, they point out that so many songs were written about their mental health journey and coming out to family and friends. A song that was "at the end of that whole arc" for Rebecca was "Change Your Mind." It can go on forever, they point out, but they'll only play it a few times. On we go with a really smooth guitar version of "Change Your Mind." (It's the extended looping version.)

They announce that now with the Instagram contributions and the landing page we've reached the goal of $20,000, and they can't believe it's at the halfway point of the stream and we have already reached it despite that the show's been done for a long time and they "broke a lot of social media rules" by stepping away for so long, but that's been crucial to their mental health and their journey.

After they come back from a break, they discuss some funny artifacts that they finally got to take home that were left in the office--a Steven Universe piñata that they were supposed to smash in celebration of a pickup and they didn't want to because, you know, hitting a representation of their younger brother is kinda wack? Haha. 

They also had a model of Marceline's bass. 

These items were left in the office and just kind of frozen in time because Rebecca's last day (written on the white board, still, when they returned!) was March 13, 2020, just as the pandemic was coming down. Returning to collect stuff was like visiting a room that had been frozen in time!

Rebecca offers a stretch goal to get to $30,000 instead of the original $20,000, and talks a little more about the Trevor Project, discussing how important representation has been, to have bi representation in terms of DIRECT support for LGBTQ+ youth. What they've gotten to do with cartoon representation, having queer characters who can just have fun the way heteronormative kids can and see representatives of themselves is great, but these specific resources are also so important.

Rebecca then plays "Heart of the Country," a Paul McCartney song they're learning that has a hard solo they hope they'll nail. After playing it, they say they flubbed some of it but it was super fun.

Rebecca comes out with an old ukulele--older than the one they wrote the Steven theme song on and auctioned off for National Bailout--that they wrote a bunch of Adventure Time songs and got as a Hanukkah present. (They mention happy 5782 for those of us who celebrate Rosh Hashanah.) Ben is also using his first bass! They recommend musical instruments as gifts for bi people because those are the gifts that keep on giving! They mention working on guitar during the lockdown (which has been therapeutic!) and not having played uke in a while because of that. With that, she dives into "Here Comes a Thought."

They decide to talk about the background of "Mindful Education," how they were coming out at the time they were writing that episode and song. They said coming out was like having the ground spin around. They thought mindful meditation, being so wonderful and helpful, could become an 11-minute episode where Steven leads kids in mindful meditation. With help from Ben (and Matt Burnett), Rebecca realized it would work better if they show characters benefiting from the lessons. They have a little joke about how the episode number was 108 and they prided themselves on knowing the episode numbers. Then they put aside the uke and pick up a big black guitar to play "Found."

After this, she talks more about Trevor Project's hotline, chat, text, and resources. They remind us that bi+ people experience very specific forms of marginalization and this organization can help everyone who wants to understand. She thanks everyone for helping with donations and she can't believe the Instagram fundraiser has gotten to $10,000. She's amazed that "the thermometer is bursting" and promises to draw it later. Ben thinks he could be part of future fundraisers and Rebecca reminisces about times they've played together, like in 2016 at SDCC and a Gallery Nucleus show.

Rebecca goes back to the other guitar to do some audience requests for repeat songs and talks about the song "Fries." The story behind this one, when she was writing it--the first song she wrote for television and the first episode she boarded--since she was introverted and struggled with pitching, she went on the roof of Cartoon Network to practice being louder until she was actually audible. Ian helped.

They decide to do the ending Craig song again and Ben says Jeff Rosenstock's song is really nice and Rebecca talks about getting teary over the Craig ending with people sitting around the dinner table. Rebecca's favorite line is "speaking in a stupid secret language." She feels like she still hasn't moved on from that in her life and likes to surround herself with people who speak that language. After it's over, Rebecca says hi to Jeff Rosenstock in the chat.

They do more shoutouts for the Trevor Project and then discuss encore songs. Rebecca decides to do "Love Like You" again because they were sad they messed up a chord during the first performance. It's another lovely version.

After more great discussion of the Trevor Project's resources and Bi+ Awareness Week, Rebecca says hi to her Brazilian friends and how awesome it was to visit there for a convention, and she loves that Trevor is trying to expand resources to be more global. She knows how important those resources would be to help people worldwide. She thanks people for coming out to see her, and admits to being surprised that her life has come to include actual performances since she always thought she'd just be behind a desk as an animator. She gets very nervous about performing but loves that people support her. They love being able to perform and once got a sweet comment from John DiMaggio (the voice of Jake on Adventure Time) who would hear the early demos that were a struggle to be audible, and he told her that she's come so far that it now sounds like she enjoys performing, enjoys the sound of her own voice now. She feels that coming out and all the support from friends, family, and organizations has made that confidence and comfort with herself possible.

With that, Rebecca plays the Steven Universe theme song on guitar!

And then, they play "Time Adventure" again.

Rebecca talks more about the astounding amount of support for Bi+ Awareness Week, how moving it is and how hard it is to hold it together while talking about what it was like to be an adult who didn't know if they were even allowed to be bisexual and nonbinary, how much of their adult life was in such a quagmire over not knowing fully who they were.

For their next to last song, they play a song written by aivi and surasshu with lyrics by Rebecca: "Being Human" from the ending theme of Steven Universe Future.

Finally, Rebecca says thank you to everyone who's been involved in the songs--the performers, aivi and surasshu, Jeff Ball, the Crew, Ben Levin, Ian Jones-Quartey--and everyone who's helped raise over $11,000 just through the Instagram concert. She plays "Change Your Mind" one more time, adding that the journey is ongoing even though this song was written at a time she considers at the end of an arc of self-discovery for her.

Thank you!

(Yes, I did a donation.)

Links:

https://www.thetrevorproject.org/

https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/how-to-support-bisexual-youth/

[alaura5675]

Warning contains spoilers for The Owl House Season 2 Episode 5: Through the Looking Glass

I literally cannot stop screaming about Luz and Amity. My sweet beans!

Em and Ed being supportive siblings, and Ed going on a date with them, (all those golden guard fics are gonna definitely increase)

Just the twins and Gus being we’ve been knew to Luz

Also Gus just being his awesome self and gaining a frienemy is just my heart. Its so weak to all this fluff Dana has be giving us

Unfortunately we need to discuss the “first” human. While discovering the Echo mouse records everything they’ve eaten. We have seen a glimpse of the first human who had traveled accidentally to the demon world.

Their name Philip Wittlebane apparently in the 1600s donated his diary to the library.

artfulstar also found this in the teasers

And in animation we don’t believe in coincidences

So at this point i honestly believe that Emperor Belos is this same human and has found a way to live for 400 years. If time is tracked the same

And here’s the big kicker we’ve already noticed a lot of the christian missionary converting the pagan wild witches in the 1st season

But the fact of the matter is the way Wittlebane is dressed and the diary enters are written remind me of first account documents written by European colonizers. And around the 1600s in US history was when Spanish colonizers had already taken large amounts of land in modern day México. And the beginning of English colonizers here In the Modern day US.

And while im not entirely familiar with the indigineous cultures of the Aztecs, Mayan, and Olmecs. There was a strong sense of spirituality in the cultures and people called “Brujas” by the Spanish colonizers, the spanish word for Witch.

And Highly recommend reading Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya discussing the struggle of catholicsm and the indigenous culture in the early 1900s México.

But my point is the Spanish when they came to the Americas literally destroyed the spiritual and cultural centers of the Aztecs and Mayans and built on top of it catholic churches. And vilified anyone who didn’t practice Catholicism. Queen Isabella and her husband who i can’t remember, married and combined large parts of modern day Spain into one country on the Iberian peninsula . And started the Reconquista, that killed thousands of people who were muslim, as a majority of the peninsula practiced Islam’s beliefs, and Jewish people were killed and was spread to “their” colonies as well. Which gave them big support from the Catholic church at the time.

But where am i going with this, Well a lot of things. One Belos’s castle sorta reminds me of an ornate catholic church, the window glass murals, the gold detailing, and all the robes everyone in the coven wears.

Then there’s the fact that Belos took over the way people practice magic and made it so only he and his followers could do all magic. Which is similar in how the catholic church erased indigenous history, and forced people to speak their own language. And withheld knowledge and created a cast system. And the vilifying of the local religious beliefs and killing witches

And what i want to say is i think Dana Terrace is awesome for creating show discussing the horrible and long last effects colonialism has done to the word and still severely effects the indigenous people around the world.

And the fact of the matter is more shows and stories and actual FUCKING HISTORYbooks need to be showcasing the importance and ongoing consequences effecting people.

I can even give you an example right now, I lived in Hawaii for 10 years. Because my dad wanted to retire here and I was a child so had no choice. And some of you may be going, what living in hawaii must be so fun…

Let me tell you shit, Hawaiians literally need tourism to keep there economy going. Because the US took there means of culture and history to keep cultivating their land and sustain themselves.

The US sends homeless people to Hawaii because the weather conditions are better, however a majority of homeless people here are still native Hawaiians

Their is literal law stating that if you have 25% native blood you are able to gain a home for free. However most people will never see that as Homes are being bought by people like Mark Zuckerberg for millions of dollars. And Retirees who want to live near the beach.

The economy as i said is based in tourism but all the hotel chains are US companies. So none of the money is reinvested in the local population.

As well as that most people here are working at minimum wage will never afford million dollar homes.

And it sucks and i get that people want to come over and visit. But you have to understand not just here but in the mainland US. This land belongs to the indigenous people and that means respecting the land and protecting the culture. And Hawaii is one of the fortunate places where the language is still known. Its in the process of being taught in schools and being revitalized.

But the fact of the matter is today July 10th, 2021. There is a water shortage here in Hawaii due to influx of tourists coming in. It takes a literal month for cargo ships to arrive. And the tourism isn’t gonna stop its the height of the summer.

The Hiltons, Wailea all the hotel groups will be getting the water for there lawns. And everyone here enjoying there trip won’t notice a thing.

The people who live here are gonna suffer…

Anyways sorry for the rant a little upset at the moment. The Owl House is awesome please watch it and yeah…

[forcefully-awoken]

This is for the BNHArem’s villain AU collab!

Gang Orca x Reader

Rated: Teen? Mature? This is new territory for me.

CW: Sex work, kidnapping, idk stockholm syndrome?

The corruption of Kugo Sakamata is not the prolonged, drawn out affair the news has portrayed it to be. It wasn’t quietly brewing under his skin, needled at by the whispers and stares that plagued him. He was a good man, up until the point where he wasn’t. He was a kind man, until something inside of him snapped. It was as fast as the moment the first domino falls. The goodness is there.

Until it isn’t.

There’s a car alarm blaring outside your apartment.

It’s been like this for weeks now. There’s nothing else to do but get up, to go about your life as though nothing has changed when everything is different. It’s almost time for your stream, you note as you walk by your kitchen, ignoring your grumbling stomach to turn on the tv first. It’s still on the news station, just like when you turned it off last night.

If you can’t save the world, you might as well listen to it crumble.

You move back to the kitchen, trying to figure out what you have that will make an even half way satisfying dinner. Fuck, it’s been weeks since you were able to get to the shops. You settle for some ramen with an egg and some questionable vegetables on top. Waiting for the water to boil you can hear the news trickling in.

**Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.**

**One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.**

The heroes? You can’t decide if the anchor is optimistically naive or just plain stupid. You snort, stirring the noodles into the boiling water. The heroes haven’t been seen in ages, the top ten falling one by one to more and more villains. You’ve even heard talk of heroes becoming the villains.

**Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.**

**One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.**

“Yeah, no shit,” You talk back to the tv, preparing your dinner before walking carefully over to the couch with it. You want to turn it to a different channel, see if anything happier is on but you don’t. Can’t. You tell yourself it’s plain need, that you have to check to make sure it’s not your apartment in the path of destruction.

Lies.

You can’t turn it off because you don’t want to. You don’t want to because it’s become an addiction, like watching videos of disasters on the internet. Your food burns the roof of your mouth when you shovel it in but you can hardly tell. Ugh. You’ll need to go shopping this week.

Setting the dishes in the sink for later you turn the tv off, resigning yourself to an excursion this week. It’s not apocalyptic outside yet, but you don’t want to turn the risk of getting mugged, or worse. Whatever you need can wait until tomorrow though, you think, stepping into your bathroom to shower, put on some makeup for your stream.

Streaming isn’t exactly how you thought you would make money but it pays and it keeps you inside, keeps you safe. Once you deem yourself pretty enough you get the show on the road. Easy, light stream today.

You don’t even think you’ll need to take off your underwear.

“Would I ever fuck a villain?” You laugh as you read the question, absentmindedly tweaking a nipple as you do. You can hear the ping of donations stream in when you give a little shudder of pleasure. “Sure, some of them are pretty hot. You ever seen that Gang Orca? I bet he’s packing.”

It ends with little fanfare after that, and soon enough you're back in bed, staring at the ceiling as sleep eludes you. There’s noises outside, loud shouting, what sounds like glass breaking. Just one more stream, just enough to save up to move into a different neighborhood, a safer one. Then maybe you can rest.

Morning comes before you want it to.

You pick plain clothes, a little form fitting so people can’t grab you, but loose enough to move in if you have to run. You keep your head down as you lock your door behind you, moving with quick, sure steps. The store is out of a few things but you manage to stock up on essentials for another few weeks. You did it, thank fuck, nobody even hassled you that much.

Right when you slip your key into the door is where it all goes wrong.

“Don’t scream,” the voice behind you is low, and despite your better instincts you listen. “Open the door and I won’t hurt you.”

Yet, you think but obey anyways. There’s a presence behind you, large and overly looming. A large hand drops onto your shoulder right when you hear the door shut. There’s something digging into your shoulder and a quick, darting glance reveals- claws?

Oh, no.

It can’t be.

You stumble forward in an attempt to get away, twisting your body around. It’s a nightmare come true- not just a villain in your home but one of the worst ones. He’s so much larger in real life than you thought he would be. So much more intimidating when you finally meet his red eyes.

Kugo Sakamata.

Gang Orca.

Standing in your living room.

The last thing you see before you faint is his hands coming towards you.

It’s too quiet when you wake up now.

Your room is too dark, save for the open laptop on your desk. Your arms are tied to your desk chair, legs as well. You can see him in the room, but you know he has to be there. Nothing appears to have been taken. You have no idea what’s going on, until he steps back into view.

“Hello there,” His voice is smoother than you would have imagined from before. God, he looks even taller from this angle. Your neck strains to look up at him all the way. His hand comes up to cup your cheek lightly, some sort of parody of a lover’s touch.

You only barely manage to hold back your shudder of revulsion.

He can see it in your eyes though, and his hand jerks back as if he’s been burned. Good, you hope something has hurt him. He’s already shattered your limited sense of security- hostage, in your own home. If you make it out of this alive you won’t even be able to move. He turns away from you, stepping to your computer. You can’t see around him, he blocks out all the light as he stands between the screen and you.

“Do you know why I’m here, little one?” You had the way the diminutive name sounds as it falls from his mouth, almost soft and bordering on sweet. You remain silent, fear locking your jaw shut tight. He continues on without you anyways, “You should. It was only last night when you said what you want from me.” He steps to the side, allowing you to see what’s on your computer now.

He’s started a stream.

Shit, you knew your dumb mouth would come back to haunt you one day. You just didn’t think it would be like this. Your mouth drops open but no words come out. Vaguely, you can read the chat- lots of concern but those messages are being drowned out by people asking, no telling, Gang Orca to do all sorts of depraved things to you. The fucking perverts.

“You could tell them where you are,” He sits behind you on the bed now, arms coming up to wrap around you, caging you in. “Or you can watch how quickly the average man turns when there’s something he thinks he wants.”

You’re still clothed, but you can feel the heat of him through it. How is he so warm? He shifts forwards even more, a hand coming up to hold your jaw, showing you off to the screen. You feel even more naked than during your actual streams. You feel exposed, every nerve like a livewire beneath your skin.

“I could kill you, you know,” His voice sounds almost detached, like he’s bored with the situation, “I think they would like that.” The grip on your jaw tightens. “You can already see what they want me to do to you, how they want me to defile you. There’s almost nobody concerned with your safety now.”

Your eyes strain as you take in the chat, blinking back tears as you realize he’s right. There’s nobody asking you if you’re alright now- only demands, promises to pay whatever the cost is if Gang Orca will only get the show on the road. You wonder why the site hasn’t automatically shut down your stream, after all one of the most notorious villains is right there, begging to be caught.

Until you catch sight of how many people are watching.

“You’re too popular to turn off,” There’s a hint of something sad in his voice, regret mixed with a fondness you can’t place. It’s like he expected this, like this is all going according to plan. “They don’t want to shut down what’s making them money hand over fist.”

You hate to acknowledge that he’s right. The stupid fish fuck is exactly on the mark. The site takes a portion of your donations, and the amount it’s at right now isn’t just your own personal record, it’s a sitewide one. There’s no way they’ll shut you down, try to get you help. Not when there’s still money to be made.

“Don’t you see?” His voice tickles your ear as he whispers into it. You don’t want to see. It’s like you can predict what he will say next. You don’t want him to confirm it, to confirm the worst fears inside of you.

“It’s not just the villains that are bad,” Between his arms and his voice you can almost forget that it feels like the whole world is watching you now, watching this corruption. “I’m evil, but at least I’m honest. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to. How many of them can say that?”

He’s right, of course he is. How else could the world get this bad? Someone along the way stopped caring, and then another, until there were more eyes looking away than could be helped. Easier to ignore the wrong and look out for number one, after all isn’t that what you had been doing?

“Join me,” he breathes, “Be free.”

You don’t hesitate, not now. You let the next two words slip from your mouth not without thought, but free from it. The last tether of your sanity snaps.

“Kiss me.” It’s a plea, one he obeys with a vicious grin. His mouth presses to yours.

The next domino falls.

[thefamilycryptid]

MCYT Fans Stop Scrolling this is Important!!!

Ok so anyone who follows me knows I am very strongly opinionated about things such as consent, rape, and Pedopillia,  

So this shouldn’t come to much surprise that when I learned about what is going on with Tommyinnit I would get very angry very fast. This is a fucking CHILD but NSFW works are being written and drawn about him. This is in no way ok, ESPECIALLY considering he had to REMIND PEOPLE THAT HE IS A MINOR THEREFORE NOT OK WITH IT.

(Here’s that clip) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znV45O8zWcs And now you think that would make people stop this shit but NOPE. If anything it got worse, luckily people who actually give a shit about Tommy have been mass reporting and flagging these posts. So I need all those people to help me out with this.

Today I went on Ao3 and found this monstrosity

From the tagging and relationship marks alone you can tell this fic is not ok, I went into the comments about to tell them to take it down when I found this.

The creator of the fic itself outright says that the content creators should not have to see NSFW of themselves, and their ‘excuse’ is that they made it so only people with accounts can see it, completely disregarding the fact that even if the CC’s dont see it doesn’t make it suddenly ok.

They also go on for about 4 bullet points telling you to donate to charities about these issues, which is a good thing yes, but them outright blocking and changing the subject is similar to the actions of the YouTuber “h0peful lucille” - who during her ‘explanation of her actions’ when she was accused of child grooming kept changing the subject through her video - its meant to throw you off and slow you down.

And then is the 6th bullet point

Excuse me did I read that right

This dude really just admitted they in fact were NOT a minor with trauma but instead an actual adult?? Like if they had been a kid just going through some stuff it would be a bit more sympathetic, still not an excuse to publish those works but hey I know people write to cope, but even if they were a kid this should not be made public, it should just be a vent fic that you never show the world because TOMMY IS NOT OK WITH THIS. But they are an adult, an adult who should know better than this. Tommy is a minor and Wilbur, Dream, and Technoblade are all in their twenties (Being 24, 21, and 21 respectively) making this fic actual pedophilia between REAL PEOPLE. 

And before anyone gets on my ass about how Dream said it was ok please know if you say that I will smack the shit out of you. Dream (in the clip everyone is talking about) is saying He and his friends, Sapnap, George, and BBH are ok with those kinds of fics because they find them to be humorous. IN THE SAME CLIP he also says it should NOT be written about minors or people who have said they are not ok with it, Tommy falls under both these categories. 

I had a friend report this fic a day or so ago but it still has not gone down. Please stop writing these kinds of fics and if you do keep them to yourself and dont let them see the light of day. 

[sessrinsfanclub]

To the Loyal Followers of SessRin's Fan Club

To the Loyal followers of SessRin’s Fan Club,

There are no words to describe the love I have for the sessrin community, and the wonderful people in the fandom! Its hard to believe I started this journey 6 months ago, with my first Fan Fic Review of Silently in Love by Award133! It’s the story that I loved so much I just had to tell the world about it, hence were my journey began!

Thanks to your love and support, I decided to make a big jump into the Podcast World. When I was in middle school, our class took a trip to a local radio station as one of our career trips we took. I was in awe of everything! I loved the idea of someone talking to thousands of people a day and being able to be yourself. Since then, it had always been a dream of mine, but as time went on I oviously found a career as a Cosmetologist. That dream of mine though always stayed with me throughout the years!

Fast forward to today and holy smokes, I now have my own podcast show! Yes, I’m aware I’m not as good or talented as a lot of podcasters now a days but that’s ok. Overtime Ive had to teach myself the workings of running a podcast show and YouTube Channel. I have had moments where I feel like people don’t want to hear my show or is my southern accent going be a problem. Thankfully ive had you the beautiful and kind folks always showing me support and giving me uplifting messages of encouragement! You have no idea how much that means to me! It’s hard to be a podcaster when you must make sure you have all your notes and transcripts written out, you sound clear and fluent but most of all keeping the audience attention. It takes a lot of hard work and a lot of time dedicated to making sure you’re giving your audience great content every week!

I know I have a lot of work to do and improving my skills! Without your support and love, Id honestly wouldn’t have found the encouragement and confidence I need to start my very own podcast show! With all that being said, I would like to update everyone on whats to come in the future for SessRin’s Podcast Show.

Starting first of the year ill be having important people in our community and fandom on the show. That’s right an actual conversation between me and those we love to support including Fan Fic Writers, Fan Artist, Content Creators and much more! Interviewing LuvinAniManga has opened the doors to that goal! So, for fan artist, fan fic writers, and content creators would like to have the opportunity to come on to the show and not only talk about your work, but of course all things SessRin! Please message me! My goal one day is to be able to interview talented Voice Actors like Richard Cox, and of course the one and only David Kaye! That’s the ultimate dream of mine and I hope I’m blessed with that opportunity one day!

I like to mention as well that not only am I going to start interviews and have a discussion panel of important people on the show, but soon I will start a Patreon account! I would like to be able to grow the show and channel with more new equipment and software programs! I’m at this moment close to paying $200 dollars a month to keep the podcast running, and much more. It is a lot, but I don’t mind because I’m enjoy doing what I love, but there are times when things are tight. I never felt comfortable asking for donations or help when it comes to the show, because at the end of the day its my choice to do it. Though recently I had several people encourage me to do it, and to not feel ashamed of it. So, if you like and enjoy the show, and would like to see it continue to grow, youll soon be welcomed to donate whatever amount you like. As time goes on the Patreon Account will change of course, but I would like to let everyone know that whatever amount you donate. Will go straight to the podcast show and everything that involves SessRin’s Fan Club! Ill never pocket any of that money for own needs that I can promise you! There are just a lot of things I like to do for the Club and this Patreon will help me achieve that!

The SessRin’s Fan Club Merchanise Store will be coming soon as well! I plan to have a small store of shirts, mugs, and stickers for you to have and enjoy. All the proceeds from the store will also go to the show, website, software programs, and much more. More information will be shared after the first of the year about the Club’s Store! I also want to take the time to thank SessRin Is Canon for helping the club and podcast show grow, and of course the love and support ive received from them. Without their help I wouldn’t be here today doing what I love so much! This has been a dream come true to me and will forever be grateful for their support and kindness!

Most of all THANK YOU! Thank you for following me on S.M platforms, watching my videos, and listening to the Podcast show! Every like, comment, share, and listener help push the show to the forefront, and of course gives me the boost of confidence to keep going! Ill be having a special survey out for everyone to part take in soon. This survey will help me understand what it is you want to see, what you like, and of course what you don’t like. It will help guide me and know how to make sure every video and every podcast episode is for your enjoyment and viewing pleasure. I want to make you the followers happy and content! Be on the look out for the survey soon, and I encourage everyone to participate! It’s very important.

Thank you once again for joining SessRin’s Fan Club, where we can all gush and talk about SessRin and much more! Enjoy the rest of your week, and ill see you soon! Thank and God Bless!

Yours Truly,

Mrs. Dowdy President of SessRin’s Fan Club

[discoursecatharsis]

Indefinite hiatus & archiving this account

I’m going to be taking an indefinite hiatus from this account. I’m not sure for how long, and I may or may not return in the future. But for now, I need a break from fandom discourse.

----------

I initially got involved in fandom “discourse” because I wanted to complain about self-named anti-Otayuris spamming the ship tag and generally being annoying and harassing shippers who were minding their own business. So I made a side account on Tumblr to vent about that. There were other accounts talking about these recent developments in fandom too, and I wanted an account to interact with them on. People started reblogging my posts, and others started to share their experiences of being harassed over ships or fanart or fanfic in their fandoms too in my replies and inbox. I made a Twitter account at some point also. I always just wanted a place to vent with others. I never imagined or expected that my accounts would garner this much attention or would blow up to the level that they’re at now.

As a result, honestly, as my follower numbers have grown and as I’ve gotten more involved in fandom discourse, it’s made me more and more anxious. This account has been making me feel like a nervous wreck the past year or so.

I also just don't have the spoons for much of it anymore. Some days, discourse makes me feel stressed or anxious. Most days, I'm apathetic to it, like it's the same old recycled nonsense. I've done this for a long while now and I feel like I need a nice, long break from it, probably a permanent break.

I believe that the topics involved in fandom discourse, the issue of fantis harassing people and making fandom toxic, etc. are still important to talk about and bring awareness to. But at the same time, I feel like I've done and said all that I can, and I'm feeling burnt out. I’m also feeling like I’m repeating myself at this point. There are only so many times that I can say some variation of “don’t harass people over fanart or fanfic, block artists/writers and leave them alone.” And I know many others are saying this as well. The harassers in fandom definitely do seem like a majority with how loud they are and how they so often get away with what they do. And while it may not seem like it, I do believe that more and more people in fandom are fed up with the harassment and starting to push back, starting to voice their annoyance with fandom harassers, and starting to stand up against it and support each other.

There are definitely more topics related to fandom discourse too, beyond this, of course. Some very serious and important topics to discuss, such as when there is bigotry in fandom spaces. Genuine criticism of various media (minus the harassment) is always good and healthy to have too. And I hope people will continue to talk about these topics and have these meaningful discussions.

I will no longer be active on Twitter or Tumblr, but I may continue making videos on my Youtube channel. I don’t make videos often but I’ve been enjoying it, and I think it’s a better outlet for me to focus my energy on. Creating videos on these topics at my own pace is definitely less stressful than being an active participant on Twitter.

My Twitter DMs will remain closed to new messages, just so if/when I do return, I won’t have a ton of new DMs. But I will leave my Tumblr inbox and curiouscat open for anonymous venting if you need it! Anonymous venting is one reason why I initially made my tumblr account after all, so I want to leave it like that.

I’ve kind of been using my second Twitter account (catharsiscourse) as a makeshift personal account, so if you would like to keep in touch with me, you can follow me there! I’ll only be somewhat active there but that’s where I retweet fanart and such.

You can find links to all of these accounts in my carrd here: https://lizcourserants.carrd.co/#links

Lastly, thank you all so much for the support over the years. I know I’m not perfect and I’ve made some mistakes. My intentions have always been good but I know I would sometimes get caught up in the discourse and miss the mark. So if I’ve ever hurt you in any way or said or did anything wrong, I’m sorry. My goal has always been to vent about and bring awareness to the toxicity that’s been rearing its ugly head in fandom spaces as of late. And even though I’ve messed up at times, I hope I brought more good than bad to the table.

I know fandom’s been a bit hellish to navigate lately and things seem grim at times. But if we keep speaking up like we have been and continue supporting each other and keeping to our groups of trusted fandom friends, I think we’ll be okay.

Remember to be kind and support your friends in fandom. Take care, everyone 🤍

----------

Also I'm not deactivating. I've worked too hard on my Tumblr blog and Twitter account and such and I couldn't bring myself to delete them lol. So I’ll leave my accounts up as an archive of sorts. But please feel free to bookmark, screenshot, or archive whatever you want or need, just in case my accounts get suspended or something.

Thank you all so much for the support throughout the years! I’m grateful for all of the lovely people I’ve met because of this. I hope you all continue to look out for yourselves and for each other both inside and outside of fandom. Stay safe and take care.❤️

I want to end this with something productive and helpful, so here are links to two organizations dedicated to eliminating child sexual abuse: ECPAT and Thorn. Please help however you can, whether that’s by donating or just sharing these organizations’ donation pages:

https://www.ecpat.org/donate/

https://www.thorn.org/donate/

[trans-advice]

Excerpt from “Transgender History” (2017) by Susan Stryker (“Chapter 3: Trans Liberation”)

[...]

Stonewall:

Meanwhile, across the continent [from San Francisco, California, USA], another important center of transgender activism was taking shape in New York City [New York, USA], where, not coincidentally, Harry Benjamin maintained his primary medical practice. In 1968, Mario Martino, a female-to-male transsexual, founded Labyrinth, the first organization in the United States devoted specifically to the needs of transgender men. Martino and his wife, who both worked in the health care field, helped other transsexual men navigate their way through the often-confusing maze of transgender-oriented medical services just then beginning to emerge, which (despite being funded primarily by Reed Erickson) were geared more toward the needs of transgenderwomen than transgender men. Labyrinth was not a political organization but rather one that aimed to help individuals make the often-difficult transition from one social gender to another.

Far overshadowing the quiet work of Martino’s Labyrinth Foundation, however, were the dramatic events of June 1969 at the Stonewall Inn, a bar in New York’s Greenwich Village. The “Stonewall Riots” have been mythologized as the origin of the gay liberation movement, and there is a great deal of truth in that characterization, but—as we have seen—gay, transgender, and gender-nonconforming people had been engaging in militant protest and collective actions against social oppression for at least a decade by that time. Stonewall stands out as the biggest and most consequential example of a kind of event that was becoming increasingly common, rather than as a unique occurrence. By 1969, as a result of many years of social upheaval and political agitation, large numbers of people who were socially marginalized because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, especially younger people who were part of the Baby Boomer generation, were drawn to the idea of “gay revolution” and were primed for any event that would set such a movement off. The Stonewall Riots provided that very spark, and they inspired the formation of Gay Liberation Front groups in big cities, progressive towns, and college campuses all across the United States. Ever since the summer of 1969, various groups of people who identify with the people who participated in the rioting have argued about what actually happened, what the riot’s underlying causes were, who participated in it, and what the movements that point back to Stonewall as an important part of their own history have in common with one another.

Although Greenwich Village was not as economically down-and-out as San Francisco’s Tenderloin, it was nevertheless a part of the city that appealed to the same sorts of people who resisted at Cooper Do-Nut, Dewey’s, and Compton’s Cafeteria: drag queens, hustlers, gender nonconformists of many varieties, gay men, lesbians, and countercultural types who simply “dug the scene.” The Stonewall Inn was a small, shabby, Mafia-run bar (as were many of the gay-oriented bars in New York back in the days when being gay or cross-dressing were crimes). It drew a racially mixed crowd and was popular mainly for its location on Christopher Street near Sheridan Square, where many gay men “cruised” for casual sex, and because it featured go-go boys, cheap beer, a good jukebox, and a crowded dance floor. Then as now, there was a lively street scene in the bar’s vicinity, one that drew young and racially mixed queer folk from through the region most weekend nights. Police raids were relatively frequent (usually when the bar was slow to make its payoffs to corrupt cops) and relatively routine and uneventful. Once the bribes were sorted out, the bar would reopen, often on the same night. But in the muggy, early morning hours of Saturday, June 28, 1969, events departed from the familiar script when the squad cars pulled up outside the Stonewall Inn.

[Source text Inserts “Sidebar: Radical Transsexual” here]

A large crowd of people gathered on the street as police began arresting workers and patrons and escorting them out of the bar and into the waiting police wagons. Some people in the crowd started throwing coins at the police officers, taunting them for taking “payola.” Eyewitness accounts of what happened next differ in their particulars, but some witnesses claim a transmasculine person resisted police attempts to put them in the police wagon, while others noted that African American and Puerto Rican members of the crowd—many of them street queens, feminine gay men, transgender women, or gender-nonconforming youth—grew increasingly angry as they watched their “sisters” being arrested and escalated the level of opposition to the police. Both stories might well be true. Sylvia Rivera, a transgender woman who came to play an important role in subsequent transgender political history, long maintained that, after she was jabbed by a police baton, she threw the beer bottle that tipped the crowd’s mood from mockery to collective resistance. In any case, the targeting of gender-nonconforming people, people of color, and poor people during a police action fits the usual patterns of police behavior in such situations.

Bottles, rocks, and other heavy objects were soon being hurled at the police, who, in retaliation, began grabbing people from the crowd and beating them.Weekend partiers and residents in the heavily gay neighborhood quickly swelledthe ranks of the crowd to more than two thousand people, and the outnumberedpolice barricaded themselves inside the Stonewall Inn and called for reinforcements. Outside, rioters used an uprooted parking meter as a batteringram to try to break down the bar’s door, while other members of the crowdattempted to throw a Molotov cocktail inside to drive the police back into the streets. Tactical Patrol Force officers arrived on the scene in an attempt to contain the growing disturbance, which nevertheless continued for hours until dissipating before dawn. That night, thousands of people regrouped at the Stonewall Inn to protest. When the police arrived to break up the assembled crowd, street fighting even more violent than that of the night before ensued. One particularly memorable sight amid the melee was a line of drag queens, arms linked, dancing a can-can and singing campy, improvised songs that mocked the police and their inability to regain control of the situation: “We are the Stonewall girls / We wear our hair in curls / We always dress with flair / We wear clean underwear / We wear our dungarees / Above our nellie knees.” Minor skirmishes and protest rallies continued throughout the next few days before finally dying down. By that time, however, untold thousands of people had been galvanized into political action.

Sidebar: Radical Transsexual

Suzy Cooke was a young hippie from upstate New York who lived in a commune in Berkeley, California, when she started transitioning from male to female in 1969. She came out as a bisexual transsexual in the context of the radical counterculture.

I was facing being called back up for the draft. I had already been called up once and had just gone in and played crazy with them the year before. But that was just an excuse. I had also been doing a lot of acid and really working things out. And then December 31, 1968, I took something—I don’t really know what it was—but everything just collapsed. I said, “This simply cannot go on.” To the people that I lived with, I said, “I don’t care if you hate me, but I’m just going to have to do something. I’m going to have to work it out over the next couple of months, and that it doesn’t matter if you reject me, I just have to do it.”

As it was, the people in my commune took it very well. I introduced the cross-dressing a few days later as a way of avoiding the draft. And they were just taken aback at how much just putting on the clothes made me into a girl. I mean, hardly any makeup. A little blush, a little shadow, some gloss, the right clothes, padding. I passed. I passed really easily in public. This is like a few months before Stonewall. And by this point I was dressing up often enough that people were used to seeing it.

I was wallowing in the happiness of having a lot of friends. Here I was being accepted, this kinda cool/sorta goofy hippie kid. I was being accepted by all these heavy radicals. I had been rejected by my parental family, and I had never found a family at college, and now here I was with this family of like eight people all surrounding me. And as it turned out, even some of the girls that I had slept with were thinking that this was really cool. All the girls would donate clothes to me. I really had not been expecting this. I had been expecting rejection, I really had been. And I was really very pleased and surprised. Because I thought that if I did this then I was going to have to go off and live with the queens. And I didn’t.

Stonewall’s Transgender Legacy:

Within a month of the Stonewall Riots, gay activists inspired by the events in Greenwich Village formed the Gay Liberation Front (GLF), which modeled itself on radical Third World liberation and anti-imperialist movements. The GLF spread quickly through activist networks in the student and antiwar movements, primarily among white young people of middle-class origin. Almost as quickly as it formed, however, divisions appeared within the GLF, primarily taking aim at the movement’s domination by white men and its perceived marginalization of women, working-class people, people of color, and trans people. People with more liberal, less radical politics soon organized as the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA), which aimed to reform laws rather than foment revolution. Many lesbians redirected their energy toward radical feminism and the women’s movement. And trans people, after early involvement in the GLF (and being explicitly excluded from the GAA’s agenda), quickly came to feel that they did not have a welcome place in the movement they had done much to inspire. As a consequence, they soon formed their own organizations.

In 1970, Sylvia Rivera and another Stonewall regular, Marsha P. Johnson, established STAR—Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries. Their primary goal was to help street kids stay out of jail, or get out of jail, and to find food, clothing, and a place to live. They opened STAR House, an overtly politicized version of the “house” culture that already characterized black and Latino queer kinship networks, where dozens of trans youth could count on a free and safe place to sleep. Rivera and Johnson, as “house mothers,” would hustle to pay the rent, while their “children” would scrounge for food. Their goal was to educate and protect the younger people who were coming into the kind of life they themselves led—they even dreamed of establishing a school for kids who’d never learned to read and write because their formal education was interrupted by discrimination and bullying. Some STAR members, particularly Rivera, were also active in the Young Lords, a revolutionary Puerto Rican youth organization. One of the first times the STAR banner was flown in public was at a mass demonstration against police repression organized by the Young Lords in East Harlem in 1970, in which STAR participated as a group. STAR House lasted for only two or three years and inspired a few short-lived imitators in other cities, but its legacy lives on even now.

A few other transgender groups formed in New York in the early 1970s. A trans woman named Judy Bowen organized two extremely short-lived groups: Transvestites and Transsexuals (TAT) in 1970 and Transsexuals Anonymous in 1971. More significant was the Queens’ Liberation Front (QLF), founded by drag queen Lee Brewster and heterosexual transvestite Bunny Eisenhower. The QLF formed in part to resist the erasure of drag and trans visibility in the first Christopher Street Liberation Day march, which commemorated the Stonewall Riots and is now an annual event held in New York on the last Sunday in June. In many other cities, this weekend has become the traditional date to celebrate LGBTQ Pride. The formation of the QLF demonstrates how quickly the gay liberation movement started to push aside some of the very people who had the greatest stake in militant resistance at Stonewall. QLF members participated in that first Christopher Street Liberation Day march and were involved in several other political campaigns through the next few years—including wearing drag while lobbying state legislators in Albany. QLF’s most lasting contribution, however, was the publication of Drag Queen magazine (later simply Drag), which had the best coverage of transgender news and politics in the United States, and which offered fascinating glimpses of trans life and activism outside the major coastal cities. In New York, QLF founder Lee Brewster’s private business, Lee’s Mardi Gras Boutique, was a gathering place for segments of the city’s transgender community well into the 1990s.