seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Portugal
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Africa
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Vietnam
seen from Venezuela
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
Flattered by anons who think my inbox is a place that would have some kind of impact on their personal social and political agendas. I see you, dears. Keep speaking out on issues that are important to you. Your voice is a powerful tool to influence, but my inbox won’t get you there.
Thank you, friends, for the love today and all the days. The demands of day-to-day living and pressures of society often lend themselves to feelings of irrelevance and lack of worth for women in the second half of our lives and for mothers in general. All too often, this world does not want women to age and does not like to consider older women at all, especially as beings with body and power and voice. It is very easy to slip into a life of invisibility, which is something worth fighting against. The reality is that women have tremendous power in ways that I am only recently coming to understand and accept. The past couple of years, I’ve been on a journey of discovery and practice using my voice to wield that power. Romantic fiction and creative writing are part of my journey at this point. And Grey’s is too. Shonda gets it. Grey’s is an aging show with aging characters dealing with the pressures of the middle of their lives - growing children, aging parents, balancing career and family, and love. Always love and falling and more love. It’s fiction, and it’s real. Quite real. So I find myself here, still. And I plan to stay for a while.
you're too old to be on this account obsessing over a fictional couple. get a life
If not to involve ourselves in the lives of fictional characters, then honestly what is the point of reading, writing, and watching fiction? Why would you imagine that interest in this hobby has any kind of an age limit? I watched soap operas with my grandmother on her couch when I was 9 and she was 65. That was the year before she died. She was a writer who filled volumes of notebooks with musings about love and grief and all the things. Why would you think that to invest time in such a hobby is an indication that a person does not have a life? My life is full of family and friendship and the work of the day. My inner life is rich in feeling that is both a blessing and a curse for me. At this time in life, I choose to process a lot of that feeling in my writing, and I blog some of that here. The posts I make here feel good to me. That’s why I share them. I blog about love. I come here to be in love and share this love. It is intended as a gift for myself and anyone who wishes to read my posts.Anon, if you don’t wish to read them then you have a choice to scroll past them. I’m sure you won’t be the only one to do so. Not everything is for everyone.
Before the work of the day consumes me, I’ll be here for a moment with my tea and write a few words about @dtjules19. I can’t recall when she and I first connected. It was around a year ago, perhaps sometime between my birthday and hers. My inner life then was a whirlwind that poured out a steady stream of stories which were a mix of hiding and revealing myself through the voices of these characters I love. Then after a while the stream changed. What started to come out of me was my own voice in short bits of prose which I hashtag #musings. That was when her notes on my words came to my attention. They didn’t stop with my stories. She kept reading, and it became clear to me that she wasn’t here for just Omelia or Maluca, she was here to read me - my words in my voice. Some words that flow out of me here in these boxes of text are hard for me to look at, mostly because I am hard for me to look at. When I feel without worth, she reminds me my words are worthwhile. When I feel strange, she reminds me my words are relatable. When I feel forsaken, she reminds me to have faith. She and I haven’t had many conversations, and we don’t know the intimate details of one another’s lives. But I know she is a special person who is devoted to her family and full of Love and light. I am grateful for our connection.
I haven’t done this kind of thing here for a long time, but the feeling of a sticky fog has been lifting from me lately, and I’d like to share some gratitude. My gratitude today goes out to @fightuntilyoucan. This girl was my first friend in the Grey’s fandom and my first internet friend. She is unfailingly kind and generous. Her words of affection and appreciation always lift my spirits, as do her stories of sweetness and happy endings. She strives to grow as a writer, and I see much growth between the first Omelia fics of hers that Google translated for me last summer, and the stories she writes now in English. She has always encouraged my writing. She was a fan of my words even before I wrote stories. She has a knack for looking at the bright side, even in darkness. I am grateful to have her as a friend across the world.
Boxes
Sometimes we come across a story that doesn’t fit in a perfect box. We all know these boxes. They exist in our minds in specific shapes. They take up a certain amount of space. We tie them up neat and tidy. Society teaches us how to draw them – how to write, how to grieve, how to love. Society teaches us the ways a person should look and be.
The act of creating a story is real, like my blood and my bones. Stories are birthed with effort and messiness and flaws. Here on tumblr they are shared freely, as gifts. Reading them is a choice. So why does a person choose to read a story and then turn around and bash the writer who has given it freely? Simply because it doesn’t fit in the box the reader has drawn in her own mind about how a story should be.
Some people are still learning grammar in a language that is not their native tongue. Other people are still learning kindness. To some people, one or the other is not important and perhaps never will be. That too is a valid choice.
English is my native language, and my grammar is not perfect. My kindness isn’t perfect either. I’ve had a lot of years to practice both, and I still make mistakes. I read through my stories many times before posting. I catch mistakes in every read-through. Then I post, and I see more. But the story has already been reblogged, so I have to let the mistakes go. I have to let them go out to the world, knowing they are there, knowing I am human. Indeed I am human, so I might as well know it and show the world. If a person doesn’t want to see my blood and my bones, my creation, my humanity, then she doesn’t have to look.
Each of us is free to draw our perfect boxes. You are free to measure up my words and see if they fit inside your box. I personally am done drawing boxes for others. I’ve been done for quite a while. Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to stop drawing them for myself. I’ll stop trying to fit the way I write and grieve and love into predetermined sizes and shapes. I’ll stop trying to tie them up neat and tidy. Maybe someday I’ll be free.
- K.S.L. ( @ears-awake-eyes-opened)
Between Three Words
**Omelia Wedding Vows** It was her. The moment I felt my hand gently place itself over hers, I knew where my heart belonged. I had this feeling of hope and desire and thrill when our lips met. I knew from that moment I wanted to kiss her everyday. Seeing her in her wedding dress, I was overwhelmed with the amount of love I had for her, and I knew from that moment I could feel my chest expand with a wave of gratitude. I remember watching her walk down the aisle, the calm of her step as she seemed to know exactly how I was feeling too. She had that hint of security in her eyes when they locked on mine. I couldn’t keep mine off of hers when she intertwined her fingers with mine as she reached the alter. She squeezed my hand, letting me in on her excitement. I could see it in her eyes. The priest went on saying the typical wedding, “We gather here today to celebrate the love…” speech, but I was focused solely on the woman who made my breath draw quicker. When I heard him say it was time to exchange vows, my blood felt lighter. It started to flow easier. I began to ease into the comfort of speaking about the way I loved Amelia Shepherd. I took both of her hands in mine and squared my shoulders with hers. I remember taking a deep breath before I gave her my forever. "Amelia…well, first off, you look beautiful, but I’m not going to promise you anything. I’m not going to tell you all the ways I won’t hurt you, because I will. You know that. I’m choosing you today, tomorrow, and every day of our forever. I’ve seen you in every aspect of your life; in surgery, at home, the tough moments, the ones where we’ve laughed until we cried. I’ve experienced the anguish and the desires you had. I’ve felt this new emotion when I’m around you; one that makes me act a little crazier than I want to. But I want to let you know that I’m proud to become your husband, because of the person you are today. I’ve watched you grow into this woman whom everyone seems to love. Well, not exactly everyone.“ I winked at Meredith making everyone in the church laugh, including Amelia and Meredith. “You see a mountain and you start climbing, no matter how high it is. I admire that about your character. I’m absolutely honored to have you accept me as I am, and I can’t wait to endure the tough times and enjoy the cherished moments together. I’m ready to take on the challenge of falling in love with you more everyday, and screwing those things up. I catch a glimpse of the rest of my life every time I look into those ocean blue eyes of yours. You’re my family now and I can’t wait to spend the rest of life with you. I love you, Amelia Shepherd and this hand of mine is now yours to keep,” I had to wipe tears off her cheeks, her chest rising with excited laughter. "I…wow…okay, you just made me love you even more if that was possible,“ she sniffled trying to clear her mind. "Owen…you’ve opened my heart to a new feeling of what we all call love. I was terrified of letting in someone else until you came along. Well, I was still terrified until I proposed to you but…I remember letting my guard down and accepting the fact that I did love you and that was the best decision I’ve made. You and I, of all people, know the difficulties, tragedies, experiences, growth, and way of life and how it plays out sometimes. We have this language only you and I can understand and that within itself is beautiful. I like how you see my scars and past as solely that; my past. You push me everyday to grow even more, and I’m ready to grow with you now. Life is…life is scary. Love is scary. This is scary,” she made motions with her hands, like she does when she speaks. That was another thing that made me crazy about her. “But when I’m wrapped in your arms, I feel home. I have found my home, one that has been so hard to find but worth all the pain. I have let you into my soul as one I trust. So, let’s jump in head first and make something out of our new journey together. For I am yours and you are mine. I love you, Owen Hunt, and I can’t wait to love you always.”
Silent Exchanges
Amelia shot up in bed, thoughts of fear and worry suddenly flooding in. It was Thanksgiving morning, the day she’s been dreading for weeks, and she was going to her mom’s house with Owen. Her whole family and Owen. She panicked they would make him feel insecure and pressured into God knows what by their constant reminder of judgement. She loved her sisters but they are a little overwhelming at first with their loud chatter and wide eyes. Later this evening, when they go to the Hunt’s house, Nathan will be joining them. Amelia really pushed Owen to let him back in, to forgive him for his mistakes. After all, they used to be like brothers.
“Good morning,” Owen kissed her bare shoulder. “What are you thinking about so intently?”
“You.” Every time she flashed that grin of hers, it feels like the first time he saw it, or maybe, that feeling never left him. She had that affect on people; when she walked into a room everyone’s heads turned towards her. She held a confidence in her step and her eyes told stories of pain, regret, sorrow, vulnerability, laughter, optimism, and his favorite, love. He returned a smile and kissed her lips softly.
“What time do we need to get going? Also, I called the realtor last night and we can view a few houses next weekend.”
“Okay, that’s great. And in the next hour or so would be best. They hate when I’m late, which is always.”
“Mmm, an hour is plenty of time,” he pulled her back and rolled on top of her, attacking her with kisses. Her laughter filling him with love.
•
“Owen, it’s nice to finally meet you! Amelia has told us all so much about you!” Nancy exclaimed while hugging him and kissing his cheek.
“Not all good things though,” Kate added on while her and Nancy laughed. Amelia gave them a dirty look, her face turning bright red. Owen decided to go along with it. Kate’s voice had carried into the kitchen and drew Amelia’s other sister, Lizzie, into the living room. The screams of kids and indistinct yelling came from the backyard, making Amelia more anxious.
“Well, it’s about time we meet our baby sister’s man!” She hugged Owen and he was drawn back by all of their comforting manners.
“Haha, yeah. It’s so nice to meet all of you, as well. I’ve heard some stories from Amelia,” he chuckled. They all looked at each other, their body language having its own conversation.
“Oh, I’m sure she left out a few,” Nancy said eying Amelia making her shake her head.
“Amy, sweetheart, have you told Owen about that sex tape you made in high school?” Lizzie asked. Owen’s eyes grew big and he turned his attention to his fiancé. Amelia felt the heat coming off her cheeks, and for the first time she was at a loss for words.
“Hmm, no she has not,” Owen became interested in learning more about this movie she had starred in.
“I’m sure she can go on and on about, what’s that boy’s name she kept screaming, Roger?” Nancy asked her sisters.
“Can we just shut up?” Amelia sighed.
“Roger, yes. He seemed to know his way around,” Lizzie chimed.
“Okay, enough! Owen!” Amelia grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the kitchen. “We’re going to meet my mom, and getting away from you all,” she pointed at all three of her sisters who were all basking in the glory of making fun of their little sister. “Bitches,” Amelia mumbled under her breath.
“Amy! My baby, come give your mama a kiss,” Carolyn wrapped her daughter in a bear hug and kissed her on the forehead.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, and this must be Owen! You’re even more handsome and built than Amy had explained,” she gave Owen a hug. “It’s great meeting the man my daughter loves!” Owen’s gaze met Amelia’s when her mom said love. Her eyes just smiled at him. “Now, tell me how you two fell in love. I want every detail, even the painful ones. Amy tends to leave out the big, important parts when she calls.”
“Mom, is that really necessary?”
“Of course it is, sweety! I know you have both hurt each other and I want to know why! It’s my job to keep you both in line.”
“It’s really more personal than that. For both of us,” Carolyn studied her words and facial expressions carefully. She was quiet for a minute.
“Amy, did you start…are you still sober?” A wave of sadness washed over her mom’s face. When Amelia didn’t answer right away, Carolyn hugged her again.
“I am sober now, Mom,” Carolyn stepped back and cupped her face. “Just…I drank. For awhile. I didn’t take drugs but I’m sober again. 189 days,” tears were swelling in Amelia’s eyes making her mother cry. Owen took a step back, letting them have their space. His heart was wrenching.
“Why didn’t you tell me when we talked? I would’ve been there to help you in a heartbeat.”
“I know, I know,” Amelia said wiping her tears. “I just didn’t want to be the burden that I always am. You’re always looking out for me, especially when it comes to my addiction. And besides, I had Owen helping me,” she said stepping back and grabbing his hand. “It was just everything with Derek hitting me again, and other things,“ she glanced at Owen. “I just wasn’t in a good place then, but I am now, Mom. I really am,” Carolyn hugged her again, even tighter.
"Well, you should’ve called me, Amelia. And, Owen, thank you for being there for my baby daughter,“ she let go of Amelia and gave Owen a kiss on the cheek
"Oh, of course. I would do anything for Amelia,” he smiled relieving all the tension between them. Amelia squeezed his hand, undoubtedly she fell more in love with him.
"I say we get this day going and set the table. Nancy, Izzie, Kate, get the kids! We’re about to eat!“ Carolyn yelled through the doorway.
"What can I do to help?” Owen asked.
"You two can get all the plates and silverware from the cabinet, and set the table,“ they both nodded and Owen followed Amelia to the glass cabinet in the dining room.
"Your mom is really nice."
"Yeah, she’s great. She really likes you, I can tell,” she revealed a soft smile. “And your sisters, wow. Oh, also, I’d like to hear more about this…movie you were in."
"Owen! Shut up!” She playfully whacked his shoulder. Carolyn stopped in the doorway, watching them. Her heart swelled with joy at the sight of her daughter happy.
"Maybe you can show me exactly what you did,“ he pulled her in and whispered into her ear. "I can show you more of the way I move, too.”
"I’m going to kill you,“ Owen laughed while Amelia stated setting the place mats down. "Hey, maybe instead of being a lazy bum you can actually help me.”
"Yes, m'aam.“ Amelia rolled her eyes, giggling to herself.
The brunch went smoothly, except for when one of Nancy’s kids hit Owen in the face with a football. Owen hasn’t laughed that hard in awhile, though. It felt good for his stomach to ache from all of the jokes he was told. Before they left, Carolyn pulled them both aside in private.
“You two…You two make me believe in true love again. You make me so happy, and I can tell you make each other happy. Hold onto that,” she shared her insight with them both before they left. Amelia and Owen walked out holding hands, laughing as they reveled in the memories they had made today.
•
"Hey, Mom, you’ve met Amelia before remember?” Owen asked when they walked into his childhood home.
"Of course, dear, how can I forget that beautiful face from the hospital? Come here you two!“ Evelyn hugged both of them. "Nathan is out back with John. I have pumpkin and apple pie cooling down for you guys. I know you just came from eating.”
"Thank you, Mrs. Hunt,“ Amelia rubbed her shoulder.
"Hey, guys. How was your place?” Nathan asked Amelia.
"Oh, it was very interesting. Learned a lot that she has never told me. Isn’t that right, Amelia?“ Owen winked at her.
"Oh, like what?” Nathan said curiously.
"Nothing! Just some silly childhood stories!“ Amelia’s voice hung awkwardly at the end.
"Oh, silly ones for sure,” Owen agreed.
"Hmm, you two have a different language I do not speak. The games on if you want to kick back and have a beer,“ Owen cleared his throat. "Shit, no beer. Never mind. We have water and soda?”
"I’ll take a water, please,“ Amelia said trying to keep herself steady. She didn’t think, at this point, beer would phase her, but she didn’t exactly want Owen drinking it while with her again.
"You want a water, Owen?"
"Uh, no, I’ll take a Coke. Thank you,” Owen replied trying to keep his temper down.
"Okay, I’ll meet you guys in the living room.“
“Sorry about that,” Owen kissed Amelia’s forehead.
“No, it’s fine. Really. So, who’s playing?” She changed the subject quickly.
“Dallas Cowboys and the Seahawks. It should be a good game,” he said while they walked into the living room.
“Where are the Seahawks from?” She didn’t know one thing about football. Owen thought she was joking until he realized she was serious. “What? I don’t watch football. I don’t think I’ve ever really watched except for when I was a lot younger.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“The Seahawks are from Seattle. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.” Amelia just shrugged and Nathan returned with the drinks followed by John and Evelyn. Owen slipped his arm around Amelia’s shoulder and put his feet up on the table. She leaned into him without making it too awkward for the others.
“Are you two on shift tomorrow?” Nathan asked to make conversation.
“No, we have the day off, actually,” Owen answered for both of them.
“Oh, nice. Have any plans?” Evelyn joined in. Amelia and Owen both looked at each other and broke into laughter. Nathan just shook his head. He turned to Evelyn and John.
“It’s their own language no one else can understand. It’s with their eyes or something.”
“We…we do have plans. Just a relaxing day and a nice dinner,” Owen put emphasis on the word relaxing, and winked at Amelia.
“Okay, we got it!” Nathan blurted.
At halftime, Owen and Amelia went into the kitchen and each grabbed a slice of pie; pumpkin for Amelia and apple for Owen.
“Can I have a bite?” She asked him. He scooped a big piece along with ice cream and fed it to her. Right before he reached her mouth, his hand shot straight to her nose, covering it in vanilla ice cream. “Owen!” She hit his shoulder, becoming a small habit of hers.
“You asked for a bite, I never said yes,” she rolled her eyes at his response. “Can I try yours?”
“Nope but you shouldn’t eat too much dessert right now.”
“And why is that?” Owen asked raising his eyebrow. Amelia stepped close to him and moved her mouth to his ear.
“You said you wanted to find out exactly what I did in that video I made…” she stepped back and bit her lip. She grabbed her plate and went back into the living room leaving Owen stunned.
“Where’s Owen?” Evelyn asked when she sat down.
“He’s…coming,” she said and made a joke to herself. When Owen returned, Amelia gently moved her hand to his thigh, knowing exactly what drove him crazy.
When the game was over, they all exchanged goodbyes and Amelia and Owen were on their way home. “I’m going to get you back here in a second,” Owen proclaimed.
“Oh yeah? How are you planning on doing that?” Amelia playfully said.
“You’ll see.”
The second he closed their front door behind him, he grabbed her from behind and carried her to the couch while running. She screamed and kicked her legs to try to free herself, but his grip was too tight around her waist.
“Owen! Put me down!” She squealed when he threw her down. He clasped both of her hands above her head with on arm and started tickling her with the other. “Owen! If you don’t stop…I’ll pee!” She exclaimed between breaths. He immediately let go of her and allowed space between them. She got up and took one step then quickly turned back around to jump on him.
“Haha! I got you now!” She tried to wrestle him but being less than half his size, he had the strength to overpower her.
“Nice try,” he let out while he started kissing her neck. Before he started to carry her to their bed, he looked into her eyes. They let him in to see the slightest glimpse of forever.
