#misca

[superoscars]

i loveeeeed when tim used to post public apologies after the oscar specials

[priscillablocks]

Family first my fans also I love you all thanks for your great love and support I love you all ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[hyperfixated-maybe]

Guess who's back!!

I’m Sam, [he/him]. Native English speaker, but learning Spanish and Hindi. I understand written Spanish fairly well, and as for Hindi… well, I’m learning. I’m a therian! My sona is a marbled newt, but I'm also a dhole, an Indian rock python, and an African leopard!

I've got an AO3, which I recently revamped. There's also this DeviantArt account that I never use.

This blog is ALWAYS open to asks of ANY variety.

I’m the Admin of the "Octofandom", "Jungle Books", and "TLG Type Shit" communities!

Art tag is “Sam’s scribbles” and writing tag is “Sam’s babbles”. TLG gijinkas are under “Sam’s TLG human AU”

Sideblogs:

Octonauts

Pixar’s Cars

Solarballs

DuckTales

TMNT

HTTYD & Moomin

Lackadaisy

Things I like:

TMNT (2012, 1987, Bayverse, MM, 2003, Rise)

Duckverse (DT87 & 17, Paul Rudish Shorts, DWD)

The Lion Guard / The Lion King

The Jungle Books

Balto

House MD

HTTYD (1, RttE, 2)

Lackadaisy (both comic and animated canons)

Madagascar (the trilogy, AHKJ, TPOM, POM the movie)

List of dudes I rotate in my brain…

Kaa (The Jungle Books)

Ono (TLG)

Kwazii Rackham (OC)

Drake Mallard (DWD91)

HD&L and BOYD (DT17)

A few of my friends, whose blogs I'm putting here for my own ease of access:

@spinnysocks @devilsrecreation @tired-lamb

Tryna organize my blog sooo here are some more tags I am going to be using from now on, mostly just for me tho:

[insert mutual's name]'s asks

Various asks

Sam's scribbles

Sam's babbles

Sam's TLG human AU

[Insert mutual's name]

To print

[ciochinaflorin]

05 I 2025. UMBLĂ ȘI FII SAU FIINȚAREA [Geneza 17.1 I 2 Petru 1.3-7] 05 Ianuarie 2025

05 I 2025. UMBLĂ ȘI FII SAU FIINȚAREA I Podcast I Pasaje Biblice : Geneza 17 : 1 I II Petru 1 : 3 – 7 I Meditaţii din Cuvânt I Cezareea I Reşiţa I 05 Ianuarie 2025 I Umblă și fii sau Ființarea (existența). A doua cerință a Lui Dumnezeu pentru Avram (din Geneza 17 : 1), se referea la cine trebuia să devină și mai apoi să fie, Avraam. Continue reading 05 I 2025. UMBLĂ ȘI FII SAU FIINȚAREA [Geneza…

[abbyfmc]

A Yandere girl/fem as a mother.

I've always seen stories about yandere men and women, in which it's depicted how these characters feel a crazy love for their partners or crushes, but I've rarely seen these characters in a family role, unless it involves incestuous situations (which I won't do in this post, since writing incest is not my strong point).

Parents (not necessarily biological) are important parts of most humans' lives (and I don't say all of them, since not everyone is raised by their parents, unfortunately). Some are terrible and do all kinds of harm within their reach (and many unfortunately don't accept their mistakes until it's too late); others are practically absent; but there is another kind of parents who love their children and would do anything for their well-being, even going so far as to endure terrible situations so that their children can live happy, healthy and safe lives and have a good future, even if that means that the parents have to walk through hell.

Whether biological or adopted, she will love you with all her heart infinitely.

A yandere mother doesn't have to be married or dating someone, as she can easily be a single mother. You can be her only child, just as you can have more siblings.

Whatever the case, she will love you deeply.

For a yandere mother, things like your sex/gender, political ideals or sexual orientation are not important (in the sense that she will not discriminate against you for any of that).

Something that influences the upbringing (and yandere mothers would not be the exception) of children is the socioeconomic status of the parents, which can be lower class or working class; middle class and upper class. The lower class is the one that has the most problems to access quality services such as health, edition and incolding food; The upper class, on the other hand, has greater resources, facilities and better conditions to support one or more lives. The middle class does not have so many problems to access basic services, but they also do not have so many resources to be considered rich. There are people who refer to the middle class as "poor people with money."

A Yandere mother will do whatever she is in her possession so that you are well next to her.

A Yandere mother will not be afraid of working on whatever, as long as you are well.

A Yandere mother will make sure you eat well and take care of your health responsibly, although she won't be upset about taking care of you herself.

A Yandere mother will always want to know everything about you. She wants you to tell her your problems; about your likes, dislikes, hardships, feelings, and everything that happens to you.

A Yandere mother is someone you can't lie to. She'll always be watching you.

A Yandere mother will always know where you are, who you are with, and what you are doing.

A Yandere mother will always protect you from danger. She would put HERSELF in danger so that no one hurts you.

A Yandere mother would be capable of sacrificing others for what she considers "your well-being."

A Yandere mother isn't afraid to kill others for you.

She will appreciate every display of affection from you; whether it's a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a smile or even a simple "I love you" it will make her very happy.

She would be selective, protective and controlling when it comes to meeting your friends, but she would be even more selective regarding your partner or love interests under the excuse of protecting you.

If you are her biological child, she will have loved you since she conceived you or since she held you in her arms after giving birth.

A Yandere mother will not have aborted you under any circumstances (except VERY specific dangerous situations) and will not accept anyone convincing, forcing or obliging her to do so.

Your yandere mother will have told you that she took great care of herself during her pregnancy, because she was terrified of the scenario of miscarriage and someone making her lose you.

Let's be clear; a miscarriage is a traumatic thing for many pregnant women (or, well, all of them). Some go on with their lives; others fall into a depression that only a few recover from, while others commit suicide. It's something extremely heartbreaking for them, and a yandere mother would be no exception. She would be emotionally and psychologically devastated, knowing that she lost her child and she would be devastated to know that her baby has died, and will never come back.

If the yandere mother is your biological mother, she will describe the pregnancy and your birth as the best thing despite the pain of the moment.

If you are adopted, your yandere mother will tell you how she met you, where she found you, and how happy she was to have taken you into her arms.

If she is getting divorced, she will not let anyone take you away from her, fighting to the death for your custody.

A Yandere mother will not tolerate bullying of any kind. She will do anything to get justice for you, including killing your bully and his family; or publicly destroying them through connections.

A Yandere mother will be able to beat up your bullies and make them beg for forgiveness, all for daring to hurt you.

If you are disabled, your yandere mother will be even more overprotective.

No matter what happens, your yandere mother will do her best to keep your life safe.

Has someone abused you? Mommy will seek justice for you, whether judicial or by her own hand. In addition, she will ALWAYS trust you and support you no matter what happens.

Have you gotten lost or disappeared? Mommy will search for you thoroughly everywhere and won't rest until she finds you.

Are you very sick? Do you have a terminal illness? Mommy will do whatever it takes to help you live, such as going into debt to buy expensive medicines or treatments; taking care of you day and night; stealing medicines; donating her own organs to you or killing others to steal their organs for your transplant.

However, a parent's worst fear is seeing their child dead. Knowing that their child is gone, that they are no longer here and that they could do nothing to prevent it is heartbreaking, whether the cause of death was a serious illness, an accident or a murder; the death of a child is SO heartbreaking that it can cause depression in parents (especially if the child was very young or died in a very unfair and painful way). Some parents move on; others end the relationship or get divorced, sometimes blaming the other; some blame themselves; some go into states of denial; many fall into deep depression and some even commit suicide. Each case is different, but the pain in all of them is quite strong and horrible.

A Yandere mother would be no exception. Your death would be her worst nightmare.

She would go crazy after your death.

If it was due to an illness: she will remember EVERY moment of your illness with bitterness, pain, sadness and helplessness, because she knows that despite trying all the treatments and care to save you, she could do nothing but watch your mortal decline.

If it was an accident: She will blame herself for not having acted quickly and for not having prevented it.

If it was a murder: Obviously she will feel helplessness, anger, pain, frustration and sadness for not having been there to protect you or save you. She will feel guilty.

If it was suicide: She will feel guilty for not having supported you enough with your problems. Depression and sadness will consume her.

A Yandere mother won't be able to bear losing you. She'll feel completely empty and without a purpose to live.

Your yandere mother would miss you very much. Her heart would be heavy with sadness if you were to die.

It is likely that after having found answers or justice for you, she will end up committing suicide or feeling a minimum of peace for having managed to get revenge on those who have once hurt you.

However, something I almost forgot is that a yandere mother will have to teach you values ​​and discipline you. She will set rules that she wants you to follow, under the excuse that she does it to protect you or out of love.

A Yandere mother will not tolerate disrespect, otherwise there will be punishment.

-The End.

What do you think about it?

[lgbtqflags]

Aromantic

aromantic- experiencing little to no romantic attraction

aka: aro

flag created by: @cameronwhimsy (Nov 16 2014)

see: arospec

original/alt flags under cut

flag created by: unknown (2011) via National Coalition for Aromantic Visibility

flag created by: @cameronwhimsy (10 Feb 2014)

flag created by: @misca-musca (April 16, 2025)

[acetronaut]

I’ve been listening to the Torchwood big finish audios lately, and just having listened to the ‘I Hate Mondays’ trilogy last night and ‘Disco’ this morning, there’s a lot of thoughts I need to sit with.

Thinking about Ianto’s general complicated relationship with his dad — how even way back in ‘Blind Summit’, it’s established that despite everything his dad has done Ianto will still try to save him because it’s his dad. The cliffhanger at the end of ‘Dinner for Yvonne’ being getting the call about his dad’s death.

Thinking about how ‘Disco’ happens the week between ‘Dinner for Yvonne’ and ‘By Royal Appointment’ when Ianto is away for the funeral. How Ianto is willing to risk everything for the selfish desire to save his dad, but it only makes the present day unrecognizable so in order to preserve timelines, to preserve the life that he loves with his niece Misca and nephew David and his job at Torchwood, he has to let his dad’s downward spiral happen. How at the end we learn that Ianto is named after his father, and the physical and personality similarities between them. (Imo, this episode feels like it takes the premise of Doctor Who’s “Father’s Day” a step further in an even more tragic way — at least Rose got to leave with a good memory of his father, and at least she didn’t leave him to die alone. Ianto, on the other hand, had to push his father back into the circumstances that would lead to his [Ianto’s] abuse as a child, the ensuing strained family relationships, and eventually his father dying alone.)

How after trying and failing to save his father, Ianto has to go back to work in ‘By Royal Appointment’ and be inundated with everyone offering condolences and asking how the funeral was. How he gets back and notices how much Tommy, his coworker and sort of father figure (who even gave him his iconic stopwatch!), has been drinking more often.

Thinking about how in ‘Nerves’ it all bubbles up into a confrontation between them, where Ianto likely still feels guilty for what he did in ‘Disco’ and how he was unable to save his dad, and tries to find refuge in work at Torchwood only to see his best friend there going down the same path. How in the argument it is clear Tommy is projecting a bit as well when he goes off at Ianto about how he should have visited his dad more often instead of leaving him to die alone, and Ianto knows, he just got back from time traveling to visit his dad at his prime, and was unable to save him without risking all the parts of his life that he loves. How Ianto tried to save his dad out of perceived selfishness (his words) to see “a version of [him] who laughed”, how he gave that up for his selfish love of his own life at Torchwood, how even his pleas to Tommy to stop drinking are his selfish desire to not lose his closest friend and father figure to the same way he lost his dad. How this selfishness is something that in ‘Disco’ he recognizes as having inherited from his dad.

Thinking about how despite everything, despite all his reinventions and moving on, Ianto is always defined by his dad.

[peerieweirdo]

i once saw this video that was like 'ranking tumblrs most UNHINGED moments' and then the host was talking about the mishapocalypse and was like 'ummm and this guy's called misca something and i think he was in a tv show' and i had to turn the damn video off because how can you possibly talk about unhinged tumblr if you don't even know misha collins

[greasermoon]

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥.

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

Keep in mind that this story is indeed more graphic than regular fanfictions. There will be triggering topics as the story goes on such as: ab*se, add*ction, alc*hol, b|**d, c*ncer, cl*ssism, de*th and d*ing, hateful language, m*ntal illness, misca**iage, pr**nancy and chil**irth, se*ual content, r*cism, vehicular a**idents, violence.. so please, read at your own risk. l'd prefer that minors do NOT read/ interact with chapters that have graphic content in nature. For those types of chapters, I am more than happy to have a small summary of that chapter at the very beginning of that said chapter for those who would like to read it but get easily triggered or are too young.

This is part one, book one or however I decide to call it, this part wont have so much triggering topics in it, maybe only a few from the list up above, but it's a kinda lighthearted chapter (things will progress in a more graphic content way as the story continues, especially in the second part to this story). But either way, please read at own risk. THERE WILL BE TRIGGER WARNINGS (IF NEED BE) AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER. AS WELL AS THIS POST.

Since this is the very beginning from where the gang are their ages and pretty much like the book/movie.. the years will go on, like I said, this was first created when I was a teen in high school but was always afraid to actually write it down and share it with others. So this is an almost fifteen year project. I'd like to think that the gang grew up with me (and my OC's) and so forth. So the next part of this book will be the gang grown up around my current age. Nothing will be left out.

Hopefully everyone can enjoy reading this long overdue fanfiction just as much as I enjoyed creating it. - N. 🌙

Greaseborn is a story about a girl (my OC), narrated by her, told in her perspective (much like Ponyboy). Living as a forced Social (Soc), having sticking to their lifestyle, and fitting in to a box she didn't dare try to fit in. This journey follows her and her sisters as they take a walk on the other side of their born-into ritzy Social City.. and in to Grease Kingdom territory, a place they never thought they'd see the light of day in, but for Kaia, it was almost like a breath of fresh air.....

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞.

⚠️ 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: talks of c*ancer

•••••꧁☽𒊹︎☾꧂•••••

I was going home.. but it didn’t feel like home.

The gravel crunched beneath the tires as grandma’s driver pulled into the long curved driveway, parking us right in front of the front door. The house looked exactly the same—white stone, towering front pillars, that ridiculous fountain mom insisted was “tasteful.” Nothing had changed.

Except me.

I stared out the window, my hand clenched tightly in my lap, my other hand resting on the suitcase next to me.

Gran didn’t say anything as her driver shifted the car into park. She just looked over at me with those quiet, steady eyes of hers and nodded.

“I’ll help you with your bags or I can have Marcel help you,” she offered gently, turning her head to her driver who was on the other side of the partition.

I shook my head. “I’ve got it.”

I stepped out into the spring air, the warmth of late February already sticking to my skin. The house loomed ahead like a memory I wasn’t ready to revisit. All I could think about was how small I felt again. How loud this house could be with everyone home. And yet, how lonely it still made me.

The front door creaked open just as I was dragging my duffel up the steps. Erin, my youngest sister, stood there barefoot in cutoff shorts and a vintage tee, a popsicle in her hand, blinking at me like she wasn’t sure if I was real.

“Kaia?” she said around the cherry-stained stick in her mouth. “You’re… back?”

I didn’t say anything at first. My throat tightened, but I managed a nod. “Yeah. Just got in.”

She opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Everyone’s inside. Mom and Dad just got back from a trip. Gran! Hi gran!” Erin noticed grandma Marilyn come around from the back of the car.

“Hello, half-pint.” Gran smiled widely as soon as she saw her youngest granddaughter. Erin threw the popsicle stick and ran up to give gran a hug. Gran held her for as long as she could but she then had to pull away. She spoke to Erin and I for a minute longer but she then turned her attention to the running car behind her. “I must be going already, it’s going to be an interesting flight back to Virginia. Thankfully I have my private jet and don’t have to rely on an airline schedule.” She chuckled, explaining to us girls.

“You just got here though, gran. Everyone will want to see you!” Erin said to her, wanting for gran to stick around a little longer. But I knew good and well that gran wasn’t too excited to see her daughter and mom wasn’t too peachy either. It’s not like they hated each other, but they didn’t see eye to eye. I understood grans side. Gran shook her head in response, not wanting to go into further detail to her youngest granddaughter about why she wasn’t staying longer, Erin was still too young to understand stuff like that.

Erin hung her head in defeat, knowing she wasn’t going to get through to gran this time. “Okay, well I’ll miss you grandma. Can you come back to visit for longer next time?” Erin said in her slight puppy dog voice, the voice she used to get exactly what she wanted.

Grandma Marilyn looked at Erin with those soft eyes of hers, “Of course, half-pint. You got a deal, next time, I promise but I must go now. I love you.”

Erin nodded saying her ‘I love yous’ and walked away after saying her goodbyes and giving goodbye hugs. I was the last to say goodbye. I walked up to her and gave her a hug, a hug that lasted a little bit longer than I expected. “Gran..?” My breath kinda shuddered as I still kept her in my embrace.

“Yes, hon?” She spoke as we still hugged.

“Thank you, for everything.” I tried so hard to not bring tears into play. What my grandparents did for me was beyond anything that I could’ve asked for. They saved me.

I could feel her nodding in response, we then pulled away from the hug. We were both heading up to the door that was already open due to Erin leaving it open. I wasn’t ready.

But then I felt Grandma’s hand on my back, gently nudging me forward.

“You don’t have to explain anything, remember?” she whispered before turning to leave. “Just be.”

I nodded faintly and watched her go. She paused by the door and turned, her eyes lingering on me like she wanted to say more. Instead, she just smiled softly, and then she was gone.

When I stepped back into my parents' house after nearly six months away, it felt less like returning and more like intruding. Nothing looked different-the same white stone entryway, the same soft hum of the central air, the same smell of citrus cleaner and baked bread wafting in from the kitchen—probably Samantha's attempt at banana bread again. Laughter came from the den. The hum of the TV, voices layered over each other. I hesitated in the foyer, my fingers still wrapped around the strap of my bag. The maids walking up and down the extravagant stairway holding fresh linens. But everything felt off. Like I was walking into a photograph of my old life, not the real thing.

I didn’t belong in the photo anymore.

The door clicked shut.

The moment it did, it was like the air in the house shifted. Ellie popped her head around the corner, followed by Kristen. Their conversation stopped mid-sentence.

Ellie’s smile flickered. “Hey. You’re back. Erin just ran up to me and said you just got in.”

“Hi,” I managed.

Kristen eyed my duffel. “You home for good now?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

They asked where gran was but I told them she had a flight to catch, they understood. They didn’t ask why I’d been gone so long. My parents only knew I was ‘helping’ around my grandparents house for these past few months, when that wasn’t the case at all. Maybe they were told not to ask. Maybe they didn’t care. Maybe they were just waiting for the right moment to poke and prod.

I didn’t wait around to find out.

They all welcomed me back with this weird, hesitant energy—like I was fragile glass someone had dropped and pieced back together, and no one wanted to be the one who made the first crack. They asked surface-level questions. How are you? Did you miss us? Did Grandma’s place smell like mothballs and ancient books? I answered them all with little half-smiles and head nods. I told them I was fine.

I lied.

I took the stairs two at a time and slipped into my room, shutting the door behind me like I was sealing off a storm.

Everything was just as I left it—walls covered in old band posters, my books piled high on the shelf, the bed made up in navy sheets. It felt untouched. Preserved. Like I’d died and this room was my shrine.

I sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled for the first time in weeks. I didn’t cry. I didn’t collapse. I just stared at the wall, at the little sunbeam cutting through my window like a spotlight on a girl who didn’t quite fit her skin anymore.

I had no idea how to be home again.

꧁☽𒊹︎☾꧂

Two weeks passed in this careful limbo of too much silence and too many glances when I wasn’t looking. I kept to myself mostly. Erin tiptoed around me like I was a secret she hadn’t been told yet. The older girls didn’t know how to ask. And my parents—especially my mom—acted like I had never been gone at all. Like if she didn’t bring it up, it would disappear. Like if she scrubbed hard enough, the stain would lift. Although, I understood my father's point, he's a really busy man, so he never did have the time. I knew my dad was happy to see me again but mom, I’d like to think she missed me but I knew damn well she didn’t.

Then came the family meeting.

We were all crammed into the living room, some of us cross-legged on the floor, others sunk into the couches. My father, Rowan, stood by the fireplace with his arms crossed and jaw tight, quiet as ever. My mother, Sloane, paced slowly in front of us, her lips pursed like she was still trying to find the right words. She always paced like that when she had something big to say.

“Alright, so here it is.. Aunt Eloise isn’t well,” she finally said. “As you all know, she has bone cancer and her condition’s worsening. It’s spreading. Quickly. I’ve spoken to her doctor in Tulsa. She needs care—real, consistent help and she doesn’t have anyone there with her. And with her refusing to stay in a hospital or having nurses care for her and having no kids and her never getting married. It’s time we stepped in.”

I blinked. I hadn’t seen Aunt Eloise in years. She was my mom’s eldest sister, always more reserved than the rest. I remembered her humming while she cooked and the smell of lavender on her clothes. I remembered that she smiled with her eyes, not her mouth.

“I can’t leave work,” Mom continued. “Neither can your father. So I’ve decided to send the girls. Jennifer and Samantha will drive and that goes for driving in Tulsa as well. Ellie, Kristen, Erin, and Kaia—you’ll be going too. You four girls are also going to be enrolled at Will Rogers High school, Samantha will be focusing on college, Jennifer will find a job while finishing up college as well, y’all will help out around the house. I expect you three girls to have at least part-time jobs as well,” she pointed to Samantha, Ellie and Kristen.”

“Whoa, I don’t get it.. why all of us girls?” Kristen asked.

“Because your father and I have been given a great opportunity to work on another government project. We will be away at an undisclosed location for about three to six months.. that’s why it’s a perfect opportunity for everyone to.. well, leave. All maids, servants, basically all tending servers, will be relieved from duties starting next Friday.. this house will be completely empty.. for now.” Mom said with a confidence in her tone.

My stomach clenched. I could feel the shift in the room—the sudden confusion, the quiet shock. Another ‘work’ opportunity. God only knew what they were working on this time and I didn’t ask questions.

“Why can’t Michael and Dante go?” Ellie asked about our eldest brothers, ever the logical one.

“They’re of age. They’ve got jobs. They’re living their own lives now. Although, Toren, you will be with your grandparents,” Mom replied. I could hear my youngest brother, Toren, already sighing because of that. “Besides, this is something the sisters can handle together. You’ll leave next week.”

“So that’s it? We’re all just gonna be splitting up now?” Samantha asked with a bit of hurt in her tone.

“Unfortunately, for now.” Mom said and with all that being said, those few moments after, we all dispersed. Thinking about the the sudden and abrupt move we are all having to face now.

I hadn’t even unpacked everything. I hadn’t found a way to breathe in this house again. And now I was being sent away.

Again. Another trip. Another house. Another goodbye I hadn’t planned for.

And yet… something in me stirred. A part of me that wasn’t ready to stay still. A part that whispered: maybe it’s easier to start over somewhere else.

Even if that place was full of ghosts I hadn’t met yet.

꧁☽𒊹︎☾꧂

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

The sun was already dipping behind the trees when I made my way down the road to Yanet’s house. I took the path behind the cotton gin—our old shortcut. The one we used to ride bikes through when we were ten, chasing fireflies and yelling at the sky.

Her house came into view, modest and tucked beneath a big oak that creaked when the wind blew just right. Her grandma’s car was in the driveway. The porch light was already on.

Yanet was sitting on the concrete ground in front of the door, like she knew I’d show up.

She looked up when I got closer. “Thought you were gonna ghost me again.”

I sat beside her without answering at first. The concrete was warm beneath me, still holding on to the sun’s heat.

“I’m leaving,” I said finally.

She didn’t flinch. “I know.”

“They’re sending us to Tulsa to help Aunt Eloise.”

She nodded slowly, tucking her long brown hair behind her ear. “I heard. My grandma told me yesterday. Mama Sloane told her, then grandma told me.” Yanet always had called my mom, ‘Mama Sloane’, my mom thought of Yanet as her own daughter as well. She loved Yanet and would do anything for her, especially since her mother passed away in a car accident a few years ago. Her mom, Liz and my mom were best friends, like sisters, they grew up together. In fact, Yanet and I were born a couple days apart from each other, her on November tenth and mine on the fifth. So yeah, of course my mom looked out for Yanet as well.

“You know what? I’ll miss your guts.” Yanet tried to be serious but she couldn’t be serious after saying something like that.

We both laughed, but mine was hollow. I could feel the emotion pulling tight behind my ribs. I didn’t want to cry. Not again. Not here.

Yanet’s gaze softened. “You scared?”

“Of being gone again?” I asked. “Or of feeling okay about it this time?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Yanet always knew what I meant even when I couldn’t say it right.

“I don’t know how to be home,” I admitted. “They all look at me like I’m this ghost. And maybe I am. Maybe I left part of me up there, in Grandma’s house, in that hospital room. With him.”

Yanet reached over and took my hand.

“You didn’t leave anything behind,” she said. “You became someone they haven’t met yet.”

Her words hit something deep in me. I looked down at our hands—hers always warmer, always steadier.

“You’re not coming with us,” I whispered.

“Nope. Grandma needs me here. Plus… someone’s gotta keep your parents from turning your bedroom into a storage closet.”

I smiled weakly. “It wouldn’t matter, everything staying put since they’re leaving too.. but either way you better not let them touch my record player. You know, just in case.”

“Swear on my grave.”

I leaned my head against her shoulder. The doves stopped cooing around us, the oak tree groaned above, and then the whole world felt quieter than usual. Like it knew we were saying goodbye.

“Promise you’ll call?” she asked after a while.

“Every week,” I said. “Every dumb detail. Even if nothing happens.”

“Especially then.”

When it got too dark to see the path clearly, I finally stood. Yanet walked me down the concrete walkway and hugged me tight, her arms wrapping around me like armor.

“You’re still Kaia,” she said softly. “No matter what happens next.”

I didn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t. Not to her.

So I just walked back, the chill of dusk crawling over my skin, and I let her words carry me forward like a whisper I didn’t know I needed.

Still Kaia.

Even if nothing felt the same…

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

Thoughts on the first chapter so far? I'd love to hear them!

As always, Stay Gold while doing it for Johnny! - N. 🌙

[wihinaphe-makhoche]

6/24/24: Reflections on Visiting Homeland & Indian Policy

This will be a series of short essays about my experiences visiting CRST (Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe). Edited & posted 7/30/24.

Standing beside the graves of my great-grandparents, William Garreau and his wife On the Lead.

I've just returned from a trip to the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe (CRST), sovereign Lakota land surrounded by the state of South Dakota. This experience of going to this place where my ancestors lived was humbling, informative, and intense above all.

While I am an enrolled member of the Cheyenne River Lakota, I was born and raised in Maine; In many ways, this is where my heart is. I connect with the woodlands and the river that has been a constant companion to me through all my years. This, though, is not where my blood family or ancestors are from.

The sky here seems to stretch forever. You don't fully understand the enormity of it until you're under its expanse--But despite what you might hear about "prarie madness" in places where the "sky is too big", I felt comforted in knowing that this is where my family and ancestors lived, and continue to live.

Coming from Maine, tribal lands are handled differently. In traveling to a Native community here, you are very nearly assured that everyone living on reservation land is either Native themselves, or integrated into a Native family one way or another (married, adopted, etc). In off-reservation areas, there is still often recognition of the land's Indigenous roots, whether it be through place names or by signage. This is not to give too much credit to colonizers. The Wabanaki community has been steadfast in maintaining their cultural identity and asserting their presence. This is helped by the fact that these are truly ancestral lands; Wabanaki have lived here since time immemorial, and their archaeological record in the area goes back at least 5,000 years.

Indian policy in Maine also fundamentally differs from that out West. In my paper Triumph and Tribulation: Wabanaki Experiences, 1950-2020, I cover MICSA, perhaps the most significant Maine Indian land policy in recent years:

For the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot, their long battle with the State of Maine for land claims would bear fruit in 1980, with the passing of the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act (MICSA).[1] MICSA was initially deemed a success and was the largest land claims settlement at the time, as well as the first to include provisions for land reacquisition.[2] The Act had tribes cede 12.5 million acres, or 60% of Maine, in exchange for $81.5 million divided between tribes.[3] The Houlton Band of Maliseets joined the settlement in 1979 and were provided with $900,000 for the purchase of a five-thousand-acre reservation, as well as federal recognition.[4] The breakdown of the $81.5 million between the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot was $26.8 million for each tribe, or 150,000 acres in unorganized territories—soft money.[5] The remaining $27 million would be split between the two with one million dollars set aside for infrastructure for elders.[6] MISCA also created the Maine Implementing Act (MIA) and the Maine Indian Tribal-State Commission (MITSC), which would define tribal-state relationships by establishing specific laws about Wabanaki peoples and their lands.[7] This served as a means to define and resolve discrepancies with MICSA, as it was largely considered much more legally rigid than the Wabanaki tribes had initially understood it to be.[8] This rigidity would ultimately be a major critique of MICSA and its associated provisions. There were concerns that MISCA did not respect Wabanaki tribes as sovereign nations but, rather, reduced reservation lands to municipality status.[9] State paternalism toward Indigenous peoples of Maine was effectively allowed to continue. Per-capita payments for MISCA were ultimately very little for many, hardly the windfall gain that many perceived it to be; additionally, many saw acceptance of the payments as agreement to the terms of MICSA, with which not all Wabanaki agreed.[10] Though MICSA was perhaps the first step in a road toward true self-determination, Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, and Maliseet people continued to struggle. Fears surrounding termination still loomed in the minds of many ...

The 1990s would bring the Aroostook Band of Micmacs (or Mi’kmaq, now considered the correct spelling) into the MICSA agreement. Following the 1980 settlement, and with the MIA considered no longer necessary, the Mi’kmaq had been largely left to fend for themselves.[11] Their fellow Wabanaki found it inappropriate to speak on their behalf.[12] In 1991, Congress would seek to correct this oversight: similar to the Maliseet, Mi’kmaq would receive $900,000 for a five thousand acre reservation, federal recognition, as well as $50,000 in additional property funds in dispersed settlements.[13]

However, like many tribes in the West, my oyate were affected by the disastrous Dawes Severalty Act (also known as General Allotment Act) in 1887. In short, this act would give Indians an allotment of land to farm or ranch (regardless of traditional living and subsistence practices). "Surplus" land not allotted was then sold off cheaply to white farmers and ranchers, creating something of a checkerboard affect in Indian country. I talk more about this in reblog discussing the issues of cottagecore on my main blog back in January.

Because of this, Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe land is still inhabited by a minority of white farmers and ranchers. While we had no incidents while picking timpsula, traveling through fields to Thunder Butte, or otherwise exploring and learning, the discomfort my aunties (residents of CRST) felt when encountering white ranchers was palpable.

Digging timpsula at CRST with my thiwahe (family)

Reservation lands have historically been a place where Indians are cloistered away. My grandfather would recall times when there were curfews for when they had to be back (though he would gleefully recall violating this curfew and riding around with friends and getting up to all sorts of car-related hijinks); an extension of US paternalism towards Indians. In earlier times (though not in such a distant past), Indian agents policed and monitored Indian behavior. Nuns and priests evangelized and enforced the ban on Indigenous religious practice. The cultural devastation created by these systems is still felt today. My great auntie, who lived on the reservation, was very Christian until the day she died. Our language continues to be endangered. Efforts to revitalize and maintain our culture are critical and complicated by generations of racial shaming, residential schools, and forced US paternalism that has caused us to become unwilling dependents.

This is one of the biggest recurring themes in Indian policy in the United States. We are set up to fail, and when we do, the US government can swoop in and claim we can’t take care of ourselves. 

I don’t mean to engender a sense of hopelessness within this essay, far from it. There is hope. I want to make those outside of Indigenous communities viscerally aware of our struggles and our existence in the current moment. We are here, we are not peoples of the past, and everything is not okay. There is pain, but how we navigate our cultural wounds is a testament to our resilience as a people. 

Within the Lakota Nation, there have been a number of programs to preserve and revitalize the culture. The Lakota Cultural Center in Eagle Butte has recently experienced a massive overhaul under the leadership of Dave West, current program director.

Me and Até outside the Lakota Cultural Center in Eagle Butte after getting my tribal ID

We were lucky enough to catch Dave during his work day at the center, and he graciously gave us an extremely in-depth and powerful tour of the museum. What stood out to me during my conversation with him was a re-orientation of cultural knowledge.

The Lakota Cultural Center has been doing important work in facilitating community nights and days were our oyate can come together and share knowledge on more equal footing. Tables and chairs are set up in a circle, so that, as Dave put it, "A six year old child and seventy year old elder can both be heard." Workshops may range from traditional crafts to singing, story-telling, gathering, and language-sharing.

Elk hide prepared by CRST youth.

Community engagement with traditional practices is not only sacred, but helps heal and offers a healthy outlet for pain we may be feeling.

Something I've taken away from my work this summer, and what I intend with this blog is similar to the cultural center's message-- Knowledge sharing. Knowledge is power as much as it is healing. I believe it is critical to share knowledge not only without our own communities, but outside of them as well; To facilitate a conversation between Indigenous communities and our neighbors (all residents of Turtle Island).

I hope to share more about my trip in follow-up posts. This installment has been focused on Indian land policy and cultural revitalization. If you've made it to the end, I want to thank you for taking the time to read and engage. Please feel free to share your thoughts in comments! Respectful conversation around my posts is very encouraged. Have a wonderful day!

Check out my (free) substack!

Citations & References:

[1] Lecture NAS 222, 4/15/24. [2] Girouard, 60. (Girouard, Maria L. 2012. “THE ORIGINAL MEANING AND INTENT OF THE MAINE INDIAN LAND CLAIMS: PENOBSCOT PERSPECTIVES.” Graduate School: University of Maine.) [3] Lecture 4/15/24. [4] Ibid. [5] Ibid. [6] Ibid. [7] Ibid; Girouard, 60. [8] Girouard, 60. [9] Lecture 4/15/24. [10] 4/19/24.

[11] Brimley, Stephen. 2004. “Native American Sovereignty in Maine” Maine Policy Review 13.2 (2004) : 12 -26. http://digitalcommons.library.umaine.edu/mpr/vol13/iss2/4., 22. [12] Ibid. [13] Lecture 4/19/24.

[gal-with-pastels]

I had this dumb idea of sorts that made me laugh.

like oswald and mickey meet the version of Mickey mouse from mickey mouse club house.

and he does the whole ‘Misca mooska Mickey Mouse’ Bit.

and mickey( Epic) joins in saying the magic words and the clubhouse appears.

Just for (epic) mickey and Oswald to be flabbergasted.

mickey be like : I forgot i could do that.

[averygaycat]

cherry miscas or whatever

[givemedamage]

misca lane knee ous

[ciochinaflorin]

04 I 2025. UMBLĂ ȘI FII ÎN 2025 MAI MULT DECÂT AI FOST ÎN 2024 ! [Geneza 17.1 I Romani 4.11] 04 Ianuarie 2025

04 I 2025. UMBLĂ ȘI FII ÎN 2025 MAI MULT DECÂT AI FOST ÎN 2024 ! I Podcast I Pasaje Biblice : Geneza 17 : 1 I Romani 4 : 11 I Meditaţii din Cuvânt I Cezareea I Reşiţa I 04 Ianuarie 2025 I Umblă și fii în 2025 mai mult decât ai fost în 2024 ! Cu ajutorul Lui Dumnezeu, în anul 2025, îmi voi crește standardele spirituale … fiind conștient că viața mea se desfășoară în fața ochilor Lui Dumnezeu…

[goodeevilgirlintentions]

Alarma suna la 5 fix. O închid repede sa nu te trezească și ma duc sa pregătesc micul dejun.

E gata așa ca vin să te trezesc cu sărutări din ce în ce mai apăsate "Bună dimineața, Soare ☀️!"...niciun răspuns de la tine 😁mormăi ceva, te întinzi ca o pisica și te întorci cu spatele la mine dezvelindu-ti fundul 🤤... Ma abțin sa îl degust asa ca iti dau o palma peste el...deschzi ochii așteptând o continuare dar.. "n-avem timp acum roșcato, ți-au ajuns 2h ore aseară 😁, hai sa plecam ca se face lumina"

Peste 30 de minute suntem deja pe autostrada în drum spre mare... Ești încă somnoroasa, asa ca deschid geamul un pic cât sa iti fluture prin par, ne privim și dam muzica tare, îți desfaci centura și te apropii periculos de mine cu gura la ureche și o mana între picioare 🙈. "O sa iti placa weekend-ul asta... Promit! " aud în urechea dreapta și privirea ta îmi spune ca ma paște o surpriză. 🥰.

Ajungem în Vama și e surprinzător de liber, Soarele abia răsare... Asa ca te rog sa cumperi niște apa, iar eu ma apuc de instalat cortul pe plaja. Avem noroc sa fim primii lângă apa 🤩 asa ca usa cortului va fii mereu deschisa.

Începe sa fie cald, am transpirat și tu nu mai apari🤔. Scot telefonul și pana sa apelez aud din spate "Edddd!! Ia uite ce am gasit!!!". Ma întorc și va vad... Tu și Blondi, buna ta amica😈, va țineți de mana, iar sticlele de apa rece v-au udat tricourile pe sub care nu v-ati obosit sa purtați sutien 🤦🏻‍♂️.

"Heyy! Ce faci Blondie? De unde ai apărut și ce e cu ghiozdanul asta?

Blondi sare la gatul meu, ma pupa, ca și cum eu sunt BFF-ul ei, nu tu😁, ii simt o mana cum ma strânge de spatele transpirat și îmi spune nonșalant "Pai mă plictiseam acasă, am luat un tren și un microbuz și uite-ma! 😂 Doar ca n-am cazare și nici bani asa ca dorm la voi😁. Ce părere ai? "

Zâmbesc și ma uit la tine, îmi faci cu ochiul și deja am un feeling ca stiu ce surpriza ma asteapta😈. "Da normal, nu e prea mare cortul dar are vedere la mare 😂, și eventual dacă nu e loc dorm eu în masina🤪"

Va uitați una la alta și incepeți sa râdeți 😂

"S-o crezi tu!" se aude la unison. Iti dai hainele jos, prin spate ii dai și ei tricoul jos fix în fata mea, o iei pe Blondie de mana și fugiți amândouă semigoale în apa... 🥰

Eu va urmăresc cu privirea și deja imaginile sunt în slowmotion cu voi doua ca să va pot admira sanii și bucile cum se misca în alergare 🤤... Mi se scoala instant... 🤦🏻‍♂️ Asa ca ma întorc la treaba fără sa știu ce aveam sa patesc la noapte.

Pe zi am stat la plaja, am ras și am glumit toți 3, v-am privit cum va dădeați sanii cu crema una alteia🤤 și ne-am împrietenit cu o gasca de studenți cu care am baut câteva beri pana a apus soarele.

Ne întoarcem la cort și adormim toți 3 răpuși de căldură...

La miezul nopții ne trezește muzica de la clubul de pe plaja și decidem sa mergem sa dansam un pic.

Va trageți câte o rochita pe voi sub privirile mele socate ca ati decis împreună să nu purtați chiloți și pornim către plaja de unde vine muzica.

După câteva pahare și dansuri împreună ne așezăm sa ne tragem sufletul pe o barca trasa la mal. Ne aprindem câte o țigară.

" Ma duc sa mai iau o sticla, vreau sa îmi fac de cap pana dimineața" zice Blondi și pleacă către bar. Nu face doi pași iar tu sari pe mine și ma săruți flamanda, îți simt căldură ce vine de sub rochita și deja regret ca nu am 3 mâini cu care sa iti ating atât sanii cât și dulceata. "Edd vreau sa adorm în orgasme în noaptea asta, du-te după Blondi și hai în cort".

Te privesc și deja înțeleg ce îți dorești. Asa ca având aprobarea ta alerg către bar înainte sa apuce Blondie sa comande. Ajung înainte ca barmanul sa ii ia comanda asa ca o cuprind pe la spate și ii șoptesc la ureche "Blondo, lasa bautură, prietena ta ne vrea în cort pe amândoi, acum!"

O vad cum zâmbește și face ochii mari, apoi îmi ia o mana și ma pune sa ii ating interiorul coapsei pana sub rochita, lăsându-ma sa descopăr cum sucul ei s-a prelins deja pe picior "Credeam ca nu ma mai invitați odată! "

Ajungem în cort și te găsim goala pe spate atigandu-ti clitul și jucând-te cu unul din sfarcuri, ne spui "sunteți cam îmbrăcați pentru ce urmează dragilor! "

Asa ca dintr-o mișcare ii ridic rochita Blondei, iar ea ma scăpa de pantaloni și tricou într-o secunda, cuprinși de dorința o apuc pe la spate începem sa ne sarutam în timp ce eu ii masez sanii iar ea își scuipa în palma și începe sa mi-o frece violent... Nu-mi vine sa cred ca fac asta în fata ta 🙈, dar te privesc cum te arcuiesti uitând-te la noi și îmi dau seama cât de mult iti place.

Ne faci semn cu degetul sa ne apropiem, iar Blondie mi-o ia înainte și se napusteste între picioarele tale unde începe sa sărute și sa lingă tot ce ai tu mai dulce...

Am în fata o roșcată hot linsa de o blonda voluptoasa cu fundul spre mine... Nici nu știu cu care sa încep...

Imi aduc aminte totuși ce umeda e gura ta asa ca ti-o aduc deasupra capului, iar tu fără sa eziți ii iei capul în gura după ce ii dai de câteva ori târcoale cu limba, mana ta îmi strânge coaiele ușor și le trage spre tine asa încât pula mea e toată la tine în gura pana în gat... 🥰. Nu mai poți respira asa ca ma retrag repede admirând toată saliva dintre gura ta și pula mea. O mai iei de câteva ori asa și simt cum Blondie își face treaba bine acolo jos pentru ca de fiecare data când îți suge și musca clitul... Tu iti inclestezi maxilarul și asta creează o senzație grozava pentru mine care sunt adânc în gura ta...

Te arcuiesti, dar vreau sa te mai chinui un pic asa ca ma duc în spatele blondei care nu se mai satura de mierea care izvorăște continuu din tine, ii dau câteva palme peste fund sa știe ca urmeaza ea, iar după ce ii trag de par capul pe spate, ca să se oprească din lins, întru încet dar adânc în ea. Tu ii vezi ochii mari și surprinși și zâmbești în timp ce o tragi spre tine ca să va puteți săruta flamand cum ti-ai dorit de când ai văzut o azi. "Am udat-o bine înainte? " o întrebi, iar ea printre răsuflari, pentru ca încep sa ma mișc din ce în ce mai rapid și mai adânc iti zice ca "As vrea sa o uzi mereu pentru mine dacă se simte asa, promiti sa îmi faci bucuria asta mai des?" zâmbești, ii bagi mâinile în par, ii sugi limba și ii spui "bucură-te de moment și mai negociem, Edd e cel ce are ultimul cuvant😈"

Înnebunit de discuția și privirile voastre simt cum se apropie extazul maxim asa ca încetinesc ritmul, o scot din Blonda și o bag în tine, suficient cât sa dai ochii peste cap surprinsa de mișcare dar nu pt mult timp pentru ca o surprind înapoi le Blondie și alternez între florile voastre ca o albină, minunadu-ma cât sunteți de ude amândouă și cât nectar de al vostru e la mine pe pula🤤.

Obosesc puțin și tu ma simți, ii șoptești ceva blondei la ureche și ma trezesc deodată trântit pe spate, tu lingadu-ma pe lungime de tot lichiorul blondei "Blondie, dar ce aroma bună ai!" după care te așezi ușor pe vine și ți-o potrivești în asa fel încât atunci când te lași de tot, eu sunt adânc în tine... 🥰 Nu apuc sa ma bucur de priveliște ca ma trezesc cu fagurele Blondei deasupra gurii mele, pe care încep sa îl gust fără retineri. Nu vad dar simt. Tu sari înnebunită în mine, iar blonda și-o freacă de fata mea înainte și înapoi, și aud cum va sărutați ca și cum ar fi prima oara. Gemetele noastre se aud probabil pana în Mamaia, dar nu va pasa, sunteți înnebunite de moment iar Blondei se freacă din ce în ce mai tare, limba mea e adânc în ea, nasul meu ii masează cercul maroniu iar clitul se atinge de barbă... O simt cum nu mai rezista și explodează într-un squirt pe pieptul meu, e de vis🥰... Întinzi tot lichidul pe abdomenul meu și te opresti din mișcări. - "E delicios Blondo!" - "E rândul tău Roșcato!

Imi place când cooperati, și în timp ce Blondie se așează la loc pe fata mea, tu te lași ușor pe spate sprijinita într-o mana și începi sa te misti la fel de adânc.. Simt cum te contracti și cum capul pulii mele iti cauta punctul ala 😈... Nu durează pana îl găsim iar în timp ce te masezi la clit...izbunesti într-un squirt exploziv de care Blondie se bucura în hohote și care odată prelins de pe sanii ei îmi ajunge și mie în gura 🤤. Suntem un triunghi perfect❤️

Îți tremură genunchii așa ca te lași pe spate, iar Blondie ca o prietena buna se napusteste asupra ta într-un 69 perfect. 😈. O vad cu cata pofta te savurează iar și nu vreau sa o întrerup, eu sunt norocosul care mai primește și acasă zilnic desert din asta🤤, asa ca ma pun în spatele ei și întru cu pula în ea și cu un deget umed ii masez cercul maroniu care o face sa scoată un sunet diferit dar la fel de sexy😈... Tu te bucuri de priveliște și decizi sa iti plimbi limba peste coaiele mele provocându-mi senzații noi😈... Te simți nebunatica și limba ta explorează și mai mult... Nu rezist mult și la ultimele mișcări adânci Blonda cedează lăsând-se cu toată greutatea pe tine iar eu din câteva zvacniri o umplu cu crema ta preferata ieșind ușor din ea și lăsând soarele care tocmai răsare sa îmi ofere cea mai buna priveliste: sperma mea se revarsă din Blondie direct pe limba ta care așteaptă insetata🤤🤤🤤😈😈😈. Ma las răpus pe spate, iar voi ca doua prietene bune veniți peste mine de-o parte și de alta și împărțiți dulceata printr-un sărut suculent❤️.

"Mâine vă duc la munte fetelor :))!" e tot ce mai pot zice înainte sa va privesc cum adormiți în bratele mele.

[llynxval]

te odio elon misca musca ya iba a conocer gente chidory y tu vas y me lo malogras 😢