#by the time my mom was born she only had one living grandparent left so it's the same for her

[sunrizef1]

What Happens in Vegas pt 14

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse

Word Count: 1.6k

Authors Note: No Charles content in this one but important nonetheless

Summary: Logan and Y/N talk, y/n finally reveals who’s been texting her

Masterlist

“Have I ever told you about my family?”

Logan doesn’t reply for a moment, annoyance still resting under his deadpan expression. You’re both sat on the floor of his drivers room, backs resting against the wall behind you, coffee from the Williams hospitality sitting in foam cups getting cold as they sit, untouched. Champagne dries on the top of your skin, casting a sticky residue onto your face and the ends of your hair.

Your win was now forgotten, the trophy having been left in your room to be picked up by a random Porsche employee who’d eventually get it back to you. Logan’s DNF was also now forgotten, although it did leave a lasting effect on his mood, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed tightly.

“No, but I know your dad.”

You tilt your head, pulling the inside of your cheek between your teeth as you respond, “Well, you know him now.”

Logan doesn’t respond, not in the mood to play into your vagueness. He’d invited you here to explain. He knew you’d clarify eventually, whether he asked you to or not.

“It’s a complicated story,” you pause, bile rising to your throat at the notion of explaining your childhood and forcing you to swallow it back down, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Logan hums, obviously not planning on speaking much anyway. Both of you stare off toward the floor in front of you, unspoken words hanging in the air around you.

“I was born in France, not sure if you knew that,” you start after a moment, hesitance laced in your words, “Everyone thinks I was born in Texas but my mom would’ve rather died than let that happen.”

“You probably know my mom, Amelie Laurent, French, vogues favorite person and I guess she’s a pretty famous model,” Logan pauses for a second, no doubt not aware of who your mom was, before he nods in recognition of the name.

“When my parents had me, they were still in love, I think,” you furrow your eyebrows as the words leave your mouth, “Um, but after they had me, I guess they got really busy with their jobs and stuff so they sent me to live with my grandparents in Texas for a while.”

“Didn’t really see them much growing up. My dad took me to the paddock a lot though, I got to hang out with everyone at McLaren, which was nice.”

“But he was busy so I usually got stuck with Kimi and then eventually Lewis, when he joined, which is where the uncle Lew thing comes from. Sometimes I felt like McLaren and Mercedes raised me more than my dad did,” the end of your statement comes out in a whisper, this being the first time you’d voiced the idea.

Logan glances over as your face sours, his hand coming out to hand you your, now cold, coffee. You grasp it from him and take a sip, sliding it back down to the ground after.

“When I was 8 my parents had my brother, which I think was the final straw. They got a divorce right after and my dad moved me to England. My brother stayed in France with our mom,” you wince.

“I started karting, my grandma moved to England to take me around to races when my dad couldn’t. Despite my own… objections, I spent my summers at my moms house with her and my brother.”

You pause, stomach turning as you let out a shaky breath, memories flooding back. Logan shows his first emotion of the night, glancing over to check you're not going to die. When he confirms you're, in fact, breathing, he looks back to the floor.

“I don't think she wanted kids. Maybe she did. At one point. But I think, after the divorce, all I did was remind her of my dad, a man she hated more than anything. She made it obvious with the way she treated me, as well. Well actually, the way she treated both me and my brother.”

“She never wanted me in karting, made it clear. Only reminded her of my dad again, made me do ballet in the summers. Thought it was more proper, or whatever. Didn't let us speak English at her house either, we were only allowed French, took Juli forever to learn English correctly, he'd only grown up with her.”

“Juli?” Logan asks, adding his first bit of input since you'd started talking.

“Brother,” you mumble into your knees as you pull them into your chest, resting your tired face against them. Logan nods.

“Um, she yelled a lot, I guess. A lot of stuff about our futures and how we'd always be failures if we went through with racing and football, she didn't like that Julian only wanted to play football, either.”

“Dad didn’t know, I didn’t tell him,” you mumble, “I didn’t think there was that much wrong with it until I left.”

“She just sucked, man,” you groan, eyes shutting tight as your head falls back against the wall, “I hated her so much! Because I was winning, I was getting these championships and getting these trophies and I thought she’d finally accept that I wanted to kart but the only thing she’d tell me was that I’d never get anywhere!”

You take a deep breath, holding back the faint tears in your eyes.

“But yeah, that's the worst of it, really. Completely cut contact at 15. Begged my grandparents to let me spend summers with them. They let me.”

“It just stuck with me for a while, you know? The shit my mom would say. A lot of crap about how I was failing myself with racing or how I would never have a future if I continued down that path. Said a lot of things about how I'd always find a way to lose and that it would never be worth it if I wasn't the best. Everytime I lost a race, she would find a way to use it against me, proof that I shouldn't be racing.”

“I did block her though, couldn’t stand the constant texts when I lost. Probably wasn’t even very easy to find those results, they weren’t exactly mainstream,” you furrow your eyebrows, confusion passing over your face momentarily, “Anyway, three years later, I’m 18. I move out and sign an f3 contract. My dad got super busy with Lewis’s championships and Mercedes. Kimi was actually the first to congratulate me.”

“I haven't spoken to my mom or my brother in, what? 8 years? I've mostly forgotten them by now, paris a thing of the past,” you trail off, the air of Logan’s room suddenly feeling a lot colder.

“All this to say, um-“ you rush out, shaking your head quickly.

You finally look over toward Logan, moving your body to face his, “She texted me, in Australia. Told me that the crash was all she'd ever expected from me, anyway. She's been calling ever since.”

Logan turns his head, concern written on his face.

“I think I'd forgotten about everything she said since it's been so long. But that text kind of brought it all back. It's been stuck in my mind for every single race. That's the reason I’ve been so unfocused lately. I don’t even know how she got my number, she was blocked on my old number and then I just got a new one, I don’t know how she could’ve got it.”

Logan, having dropped his previous spite, quirks his head, “What about yesterday?”

You swallow thickly, “Julian texted me. She kicked him out. He’s staying with a teammate. He’s sixteen, Lo. He’s still a kid.”

You fall back against the wall with a thump, your hands coming up to cover your eyes, “He’s still in France, still training with PSG. He’s asked to talk to me before Monaco.”

“Monaco?”

You nod solemnly, “My least favorite race, too close to my mom. I was so relieved when they took France off the calendar, you know? I’m pretty sure that, until recently, she didn’t know I was even in F1. She’s sworn off any media that isn’t French and I chose to race under dads last name. Makes me think someone told her I was.”

Logan hums, trying to process all the information you’d just told him. Eventually, he pats you heavily on the back, groaning as he stands up. You look up as he reaches a hand down to you, questions laying in your gaze.

Logan pushes his hand further down toward you, “Seems like a good enough reason to go out, celebrate your win. We can talk heavy solutions in the morning. For now, you are a race winner. A race winner who needs to get her mind off her fucked up family.”

You grin at his words, grasping his outstretched hand and letting him pull you up, “You reacted better than Arthur did. Think he was about to throw up with me.”

Logan pauses, his face screwing up with faux betrayal, “You told Arthur before me?”

You roll your eyes, “I was having a panic attack on the floor of the bathroom, talking about it was the only thing to get me out of it.”

Logan smiles softly at your response, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you two walk out of his room, “Let’s go, winner. Who do you think the most famous person you can get to celebrate with you tonight is?”

You take a moment to think about your response, “I think I saw Kendall Jenner, I’m sure I’ll probably see her at some point.”

Logan hums, looking out ahead of both of you, “You know I’ve seen the pictures of you two in Miami last year? You were so far gone.”

You laugh, hitting him in the ribs, “Shut up. We should leave soon, Porsche has probably already started partying without us.”

Logan laughs, patting your shoulder lightly as you both go to leave the Miami paddock.

———————————————

[aleksa-sims]

RL Simself Story ( 18+)

CW: Pregnancy, Babies, loss, blood

Another day at my grandparents drew to a close. After Dilek made her way home, N. and I got in a discussion. Not about her, it was about Alex, Daniel's Brother. 😔

Alex wrote me a letter, bcs he couldn’t call me. Daniel was against it! However, Alex mentioned a date in his letter. He wanted to see me! He said/wrote, he will wait for me in front of my and Daniel’s apartment on that particular day. I really wanted to see Alex!! I wanted to know what’s going on with Daniel and why he left me??? But as you can imagine, Nico was against it. Which was totally understandable!! That’s why I tried to talk to Nico about it. N. didn’t forbid me, but he let me know, he was disappointed in me. 🙁😞

He didn’t want to start a fight and just went over to M.’s room, while I cleande up our dishes in the kitchen. Nico asked M., what's wrong with Ana?? Why's she avoiding me?? So my Cuz told him what happend between Ana, Adam, Dennis & me in their dorm a few weeks ago. Yup! "Agh, thanks, bro!" 🤦‍♀️😒Such a moron!

Anyway! Now I'm gonna tell you about the dress I found in my room this afternoon. I thought it was my Mom’s! I really loved that dress! I felt so pretty in it. But my Grama seemed to hate it? I had the impression my Grama didn’t want to tell me exactly what she had against the dress I was wearing? She just said it's hers, not my Mom's!! And well, before I went to bed, I wanted to try to talk to her about this thing again in peace. She just came out of the bathroom. My Grampa was still sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a western movie. 😄He and his bloody, old, western movies. 😆😆Agh, I hated them!

Back to that dress. I entered the bedroom. My grandma was expecting me. She knew I had questions and was ready to talk to me about it.

My Grams was born and raised in Italy. She had three siblings! 2 Sisters and a Brother. When my Grams was 16, she went to Greece with one of her sisters, who's 2 years older than her, to work there. They worked in a hotel. And just a year later, she met my Grampa. My Grams was able to learn some Greek. But together with my Grampa, she learned the language relatively quickly and so they fell in love with each other. After spending over a year in Greece, my Grama decided to marry my Grandpa. He asked her and she was also pregnant. Her parents agreed, as long as my Grams had someone to take care of her. My Grandma's family didn’t have much money. My great-grandmother had lost an arm while working in a factory. That’s why she couldn’t work anymore.

Anyway, my Grandma was happy in Greece with my Grandpa .They lived in my Grampa's house which belonged to his Parents, who also lived there. My Grama and Grampa wanted to save money together to move out, so they both worked a lot. Even though my Grandma was pregnant, she worked 12 hours a day. She wanted to, and she felt good, so she just kept going. But when my Grams was 8 months pregnant, she suddenly got contractions during her shift at the hotel. She had to go to the hospital immediately! Something seemed to be wrong. She was bleeding. At the hospital, my Grandma found out she was having twins!!! She didn't know! No idea how her gynecologist could miss this, but my Grama told me that she was not often at the doctor at that time. She only had an ultrasound once! She didn’t take this so seriously. She was only 18! And her doc just said, she is young and strong, so it's all gonna be fine. However,my Grandma lost a lot of blood during delivery. She almost didn’t survive, she became unconscious, she said. She doesn’t remember what happened? She only knew, she was in a beautiful place, while the Doc's struggled to save her life. Everything felt so peaceful and wonderful. She wanted to stay there. She walked through a green meadow where two small kids suddenly ran towards her. She immediately hugged and kissed them. The three of them had a wonderful time on this beautiful meadow. They laughed, danced and played. My Grams was so happy. She didn’t want to leave this place. But after a while, the two Babies had to say goodbye to her. They told her, she had to go back home. My grandma didn’t want to, she asked, if she could stay there?... The Babies hugged her one last time, telling her not to worry about them. One day, they’ll see each other again, right here.

Then my Grama woke up and found herself in a bed in the hospital. She knew, her Babies didn’t survive 😟😢 ...... She told me, that she was not immediately sad as she woke up. She was rather disappointed, because she had to leave that beautiful meadow. A few days later my grandmother was back home. At home, she realized what had actually happened. She lost her Babies. 😔

And this dress I found, my Grandma loved when she was pregnant. Seeing me in that dress scared her, because I was pregnant too. She didn’t want to tell me, not scare me. And secondly, she knew that when I learned that she had twins, it would only make me more insecure. My pregnancy was unplanned, what if I have twins too?? So yes, it actually worried me.

Me: Was Grandpa nice to you? I mean, was he good to you? 😟

Grams: Yeah, he took care of me. Don’t worry about me, it’s been over 40 years.... In summary, I can say.... yes, your Grampa was a good man. It wasn't allways easy with him. You know how much he loves his beer. But thanks to me, your grandpa is not a drinker! No matter how long he was out at night with his 2 brothers and buddies. Every morning, I kicked him out of bed to go to work. But when it came to you kids, I could always rely on him... I know you’re still sad about Daniel. I heard you and Nico talking, but ask yourself a question, A.! How will it be in a few months? How do you imagine your future, not your present!! Now everything may seem uncertain and you are sad. You miss & love him. And if you weren’t pregnant, I’d advise you to wait and see about your marriage. Fact is, you don’t know why Daniel decided to leave? Maybe he didn’t see another way? Daniel is a calm, introverted guy. I think he kept a lot of things that bothered him to himself. In addition, he has never learned otherwise. He never really had anyone to... take care of him. Now it’s too late what his parents are trying to make up for. He doesn’t trust them, he generally has difficulty opening up. I think that’s why he couldn’t talk to you. I just want you to understand, that it wasn’t your fault. You can't fix in those few months you were with him, what went wrong for him in the past. And now that you’re pregnant, I doubt you and Daniel have a chance anyway. This will make it all the harder for him, to trust you. That's how things are rn. This is your current situation and you have to decide how you want to continue. Of course, I can’t tell you what to expect with Nico. But one thing I think, I can tell you! No man, no matter how much he loves you, will love your child as much as his Dad does. Daniel would probably try, and if he makes an effort, maybe he’ll be a good Dad for your Baby. But it’s Nico’s Baby. I know you had your struggles with him. But I talked to him last night. And in my opinion, you can rely on him. He’ll give you everything and he loves you. But most importantly, Nico doesn’t do drugs, bella. I know you don't wanna hear that, but this one important detail, is actually enough, to make the right decision, for you and your Baby.

Me: Why do you think I didn’t decide? I'm so happy with N. rn. I really want this with us! But..... yes! I'm still very sad about Daniel. I’m afraid to divorce him. I don’t wanna hurt him. I always feel like I’ve done something wrong, Nico and I, it feels like cheating.... You believe in God. Do you think someone wants to punish me for all I’ve done wrong? I don’t want my Baby to pay for my mistakes.

Grams: God does not punish, he forgives! That’s what it’s all about! Forgiveness. You have to forgive yourself, A.! But you did nothing wrong, honey. You were sad, felt abandoned, alone & broken. And Nico was there. You might think, he was there at the right moment. Where would you be now, if Nico hadn’t come back to your life? You can be honest A.! I’m not gonna be mad. I think I know what happend.

Me: I-....I’d probably be high with Dennis somewhere.

Grams: Who's Dennis?

Me: I met him at Ana's dorm.... We did drugs together. I even almost slept with him, even though I only met him a few hours before that. 😢

Grams: Come here.... You'll be fine. I'm gonna take care of you and your Baby. You're not alone... I'm there.

Me: Yea...... thanks... I'm going over to N.

Grams: Don’t tell Nico what you just told me. He doesn't need to know that.... You two have to get along with each other now and not fight. I think N is the guy for you. I'm pretty sure. And don’t forget what I said, think about the future, not the past. Tomorrow morning, I’ll remove all your wedding photos, you do the same thing in your room. That's rude to N. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was only there for you and I’m glad he’s back with you.

Me: So sorry about your Babies. I won't keep that dress. 😭

Grams: Oh, honey. It's ok. Please don’t think about my twins anymore. It's.... all fine. Afte all, just 2 years later, I got my boys and so you, your sister and M. That’s more than I ever dreamed of.

Agh, this was a lot! Sorry. But everything that has now been mentioned in the conversation between my Grama & me, will become a topic soon.

Previous/Next

[curvylizzie]

Let me be open with you for a second

As you all know, my name is Samantha. That name was not given to me by my parents, but rather it is the name I chose for myself.

At the age of 11 I experience my first crush on a male, at the time I thought I was gay but then at the age of 13 I realized I was still able to have crushes in girls. So I realized I was bisexual

The guy I had a crush on was 4 years older than me. And I was extremely fond of him, so much so that I adopted his look, and made it my own. That’s why I love wearing plaid shirts.

I used to disguised this attraction by saying that he was like an older brother to me. That was my excuse but deep down, I had a crush on him just like any 11 year old would have a crush on their babysitter let’s say

But then at 15, my world shattered.

For more context; I was born to immigrants. My parents immigrated to Canada when I was very little, I don’t remember much of our home country. I grew up without grandparents, cousins, uncles, aunts.

Because I never had these connections, and because I changed schools so frequently due to dad’s work, I was never able to make friends.

I was a very lonely kid.

My parents and siblings were my whole world, and I came to realize that without them, I would have no purpose

So back to 15. My parents divorced. My Dad called the cops on my mom for false accusations of domestic abused. My mom tried laying charges back for mental domestic abuse as well. I remember talking to one of the cops, asking if I was okay. I don’t remember my response….

My dad left us after that night. He went onto live outside and we rarely ever saw him.

That same year, me 15, my sister 11, and my brother 7 were faced with a choice that should never ever be imposed on any child; mom or dad

If we chose dad, mom threatened to go back to our home country and we would never see her again. But if we chose mom, we still had the possibility to see dad. The choice was clear

And although we chose mom, she made it next to impossible for us to form any sort of bond with dad

I hated her for this, I hated her immensely. She fell into a severe depression, and was taking meds at the times for which she became addicted to.

Every night, for the next year, I had to sleep close to the kitchen. She would walk there in the middle of the night and grab a knife. I caught her once about to commit suicide.

It was the darkest time of my life.

I fell into my own depression. But my life, my well being was put on hold.

I failed most classes in high school but I didn’t care. I had to find a job because mom wouldn’t.

I found something at a daycare, and gained a decent salary to help buy groceries, because of this, I was unable to build up enough credit to attend university. So I gave up on it.

My relationship with mom deteriorated further, and so did mine with my siblings.

Subconsciously I took on the role of a parent figure for them but they did not see it that way. I was trying to protect them from mom, but they didn’t think I was. And so my relationship with my siblings, specially with my brother, broke

My world was shattered. The only people I knew were fighting and moving apart from each other. I fell into a depression that I never bothered to get checked

I attempted suicide myself many times. But everytime I would do it, I would say to myself “they need me. I can’t go yet”

That kept me going

I joined the army to be able to provide even more, my salary was good. I was able to provide with food and rent. I stayed in for 5 years. And I left due to them not paying me on time in several occasions

During this time I had cut dad completely out of my life. Mom kept showing me court documents trying to brainwash me into thinking my dad was and I quote “the worst human being to ever exist and if I don’t see it, I must be as bad as him”

During the summer of 2021 I decided to stop the army work. I enrolled in a trade school for something I had a passion on, but was not my dream job; a mechanic. And in the month of January 2022, I started classes

At this time I had already made this blog without really thinking much of it. But I also had more time to explore my mind.

I realized there was so much more than what I thought, my sexuality for one.

I started wondering why kids in my school always treated me like a girl, saying I’m “too girly to be a boy”. Why I loved wearing long hair and it made me feel better about myself. Why wearing a towel as a skirt made me feel nice

I talked to a couple of people and then realized, I might be trans.

May 25, 2022. I start a discord server, for which people rapidly started joining.

I was this enigmatic server owner people knew next to nothing about. Some started thinking that I was a woman behind the screen, for the way I talked and treated others in and I quote “a motherly way”

This made me feel better, and made me realized finally; I was a trans woman.

With that in mind, I knew if I told my family, they would not accept it. So I went months practicing makeup, dressing the way I wanted to dress, all in secret.

Moving to December 2022. My sister showed interest in what’s inside my head. I came out to her. I told her everything and she said “I did not know you had all this built up. Why didn’t you say anything?” Because nobody ever asked.

The thoughts of suicide started creeping up again. My friends online will remember this, and thank you again for saving me.

January 2023, I tell mom. And I tell dad. My dad at this point lives in a different province. I never see him anymore

Mom was not accepting of me, but she assured me that she would still love me, but would rather see me in boy clothes.

With all this, my family started distancing themselves because they could not believe that I was trans. Or rather they just didn’t wanna accept it.

I felt lonely

I felt scared

I felt anxious

I wanted to die

I had no more reason to keep living. My family didn’t want me around.

Last night… I could not see the light anymore. I don’t have a family to keep working for, they were my world and now they don’t want me.

I felt lonelier than I’ve ever felt before in my life. Ever.

I cried, and I screamed. My sister said to “submit to God” and brushed me aside

I walked up to my apartment. I grabbed a knife.. I looked at it for 30 minutes, trying to find a reason to stay. I couldn’t find one.

I placed the knife to my heart, but couldn’t do it. I layed on the floor, crying. And that’s when my brother came in, he was looking for something. And he found me. Asked me if I was okay, I said no…

I grabbed the knife once again, and he saw what I was doing, he took it away from me, and sat with me.

He saved my life last night.

When you lose a friend irl, you have at least the luxury of knowing, but someone online… they just wouldn’t show up anymore and you wouldn’t be able to know if they’re still around anymore or not.

Im sorry to all of you for almost doing that.

My life has been one with so much loneliness, I would never ever wish this on anyone. Ever. That is why I focus on helping others socialize, that is why that whenever someone comes to me for advice or because they need someone, I drop whatever the hell im doing, even if I’m crying my eyes out and go to talk to them.

I do so much, and rarely I ever get anything in return. But that is fine by me, because I’ve been able to build a community of people who now not only they follow this example, they send messages to me re-affirming what I believed; that I’ve saved them.

So thank you all for reading up to the end of this post. It was long and I won’t lie. But I had to make it.

You guys have helped me find myself, and have saved me before.

I promise to work on myself everyday so to stay with you all for as long as possible

Sam

[ronanceautistic]

i haven’t talked enough about the hot mess that is the Wheeler family /Ednancy siblings in my headcanon. So like. hear me out see if you vibe.

Karen dated Al Munson in high school, slightly older guy who already has an infant son. No one approved of this. So Karen felt pressure to settle down with a good, wealthy man and so broke up with him and dated Ted. Little while later, finds out she’s pregnant, either of them could be the father. She knows the kid will have a good life with Ted - money, good home, etc. So she doesn’t stir the pot. Tells Ted she’s pregnant, says it’s absolutely his and lies and says she never went all the way with Al.

Anyways. By the time Nancy is three or four god Karen can tell. She can tell she was absolutely wrong on her guess of who the father was and she just hopes Ted is none the wiser. And he isn’t! He doesn’t think twice, and as far as she is concerned it doesn’t really matter, right? If Ted doesn’t know, and Al isn’t around, and Nancy knows nothing but Ted being her dad, then it shouldn’t matter.

But Ted’s mom can tell, too. She’s the controlling, interfering type that knew from the off that Karen had a rebellious background and never approved of her dating Ted. She always did the sly poking questions whilst Karen is pregnant, and as far as she’s concerned Nancy is without a doubt not related to her.

Nancy doesn’t care about her grandparents for a long time. But then Mike is born, and her grandma loves Mike, and she becomes very aware that her grandma does not like her. She doesn’t know why, but she shrugs it off. They don’t live in Hawkins, she only has to see them once or twice a year. It’s whatever.

Shortly after S4 (everyone lives, no one dies, vecna is gone) is the Fourth of July. Extended family coming over for the holiday. Nancys got some unresolved trauma and honestly anger issues from spring break, couple that with the anniversary effect for S3 playing on her, it’s safe to say she’s not in her best state of mind. Maybe it’s harder to put on the quiet and polite Nancy act she gives around grandparents, Maybe she starts fighting with Karen, or sneaking out late, or lashing out at seemingly random things.

Mike comes home, unfortunately being driven home by none other than Eddie Munson. Eddie, being the charmer he is (and much to Karen’s horror) introduces himself by full name to Teds mom. And oh my god the look on Teds moms face when she realises her grandson is best friends with his ‘sisters’ actual brother. Karen shoos the boys away quickly, and practically begs Teds mom to not say anything.

The grandparents need a place to sleep. The Wheelers don’t have a guest room, and since no one on Earth should be forced to endure Mike Wheelers bedroom, Nancys room is the designated “guest room” and Nancy sleeps in the basement or on the couch or in Hollys room. Anyways. Nancy realises entirely too late that she left her guns in her room and literally just has to pray that they’re in a good enough hiding spot until she can move them tomorrow morning. They’re not.

Anyways next morning, Nancys new attitude + the gun she found + Eddie being the way he is, Teds mom is convinced Nancy is going down a bad path. Karen scoffs at this, but Teds mom keeps pushing, and it ends up breaking out into a full blown fight, Teds mom says would it surprise you? With who her father is, and evidently, who her brother is? That kid is a Munson through and through.

Karen did not know Nancy was home. And that is how Nancy finds out she is not actually a Wheeler. the end thank you for reading my bedtime story.

[just-antithings]

Bugging y'all once again, may the gods forgive me. This is in response to anon talking about people hating polyam folks and I take a while to actually mention the polyamory thing but

People are tiring, mostly when they refuse to have any willingness to reevaluate their views.

My grandparents on both sides were pretty racist for most of their lives. My grandparents on one side still are. One has always been friendly but has talked to me so infrequently that I legitimately couldn't ever remember his name until I was 25. The other I talk to more than most extended family, but was so awful to me growing up that my mother almost cut contact with her for it. I don't think my grandma on that side even started to like me at all until I was like 18.

On the other side of my family, my grandparents were also pretty awful at points. But I didn't know this growing up. They were always amazing to me, to my siblings who weren't blood related to them, and to my mother. None of the children in the family knew they used to be racist.

My mom told me that, even when they were still actively racist at the beginning of when she and my dad got together, they never were unkind to her. Anything that has to say they only said to my dad, their son. And they pretty quickly realized, "Oh, wait, we were wrong on this one" because they adored my mom, adored me from the moment I was born, and even sat my mom down when it was clear my father wasn't good to her and told her she would always be their daughter even if she left him. They would be on her side, because it didn't matter if he was their son if he was hurting her.

There was a willingness to reevaluate their beliefs and be kinder people despite what they were raised to think and what they had thought for a long time. And I got to see it about so many things.

My grandma very casually mentioned to me once when we were watching TV when I was maybe ten or eleven that when she and my grandpa were younger they lived next to a triad. She said two men and a woman who lived next door were all in a relationship and that she wasn't sure how she should feel about it at first but ultimately they were all happy and good to each other and good people who she was happy to have known. And she was fine with polyam folks ever since.

All of us have had a belief we later disagree with, especially some of the beliefs we were raised with or were dominant beliefs in the culture we grew up in. And being able to give those beliefs further thought, especially when you meet people who you used to think poorly of, is so vitally important.

It's also vitally important not to decide someone is an awful irredeemable person because they used to have a harmful belief that they later realized was harmful and changed on, which certain people also have a hard time with. It is a little baffling when someone demands other people to have always and forever held the correct opinions on things or they're garbage and always will be because they have to know they don't fit that standard, right? Literally everyone changes on things.

.

[paigeswiftsea]

lore dump bc i said so pt.1

( my oc for apocalypse btw ) ( this is all over the place whoops)

character sheet:

name: Blaire Williams

Height: 5'7

Age: 19

Favorite color : pink and green

favorite food: Carne asada

Skills: riding ( jumping and cross country), painting

Hobbies: listening to music, painting, riding, gardening/druidism, hiking

Zodiac sign: Leo

Think this was already mentioned in the first few chapters, but Blaire grew up with a rich family, much like sabine did. Blaire Williams was born in Vermont,USA, so she is technically american, but that's not her ethnicity. somewhere, her mom was jorvikian mostly, and her dad was italian-american.

Her parents had very time consuming jobs, and they were more focused on getting to the top of their careers and getting as much money as they could, in turn neglecting blare as a child leaving her with a babysitter, one of the best so they could brag, and mainly left blaire to herself. she was an only child.

as blaire grew into a preteen, she still looked up to her parents, she craved their validation. so, she became, or at least tried, to become like them. snobby, prickish, you know the whole lot. she went to one of the best private schools, wherever they were.

The Williams family moved often. most times for huge job offers. the lived in vermont for a year. then they lived in spain until blaire was 5, moving to italy. blaire lived there until 8, when they moved to england. the lived in england the longest, but they moved all around england, for better areas. eventually blaire and her family were living off the coast. in a multimillion dollar mansion. blaire was enrolled in one of the top english private schools.

blaire found an interest in horses relatively early in life. she was definitely a horse girl for a while, decorating her whole room with horse related things. when she was 13, she was gifted a Shetland pony, by her grandparents.

When she was 14, she was enrolled in a riding school, and quickly worked to become one of the best riders there. she wanted to impress her parents, show them she was one of them. she collected two more horses, an arabian and a thoroughbred.

When Blaire was 16, she was at the top of her riding class for school, having won many medals and awards for her sport. but her parents were still not quite impressed. the summer of her 17th birthday, she was sent off to jorvik, for their summer riding camp. after the summer was over, blaire decided to stay in jorvik and finished high school through online classes.

Because blaire was so desperate for her parent validation, she eventually became kind of one of them. she was a major bitch. she was the high school bullies you saw in the movies. she was kinda like paris, (if you've ever watched gilmore girls yk whats up). she strived for perfection, and broke down in the privacy in her room when she didn't get her expectations to the dot.

But anyway, she was more mean spirited person when she moved to jorvik at 16. she didn't like it there. she had to leave her horses, all because her parents didn't want her in their house over the summer for their own things. so basically she was a bitch to everyone most of the time. she was okay with justin, only because she introduced her to her now starbreed, diamond. again, i think this is in one of the chapters, but diamond is based off a horse i have in game. shes an andalusian, more specifically a perlino andalusian. like in canon they bonded very quickly and was some of her only happiness. while she was a bitch for a while in jorvik, after helping with saving moorland, and liking it, she made a promise to herself and became a nice person again. not because she wanted to fit in with all the personalities, but because she was honestly sick of being someone who caused hurt undeservingly. but she is more than willing to bring back the mean side of her who deserve it, especially when she starting interacting with dark riders and sabine.

Blaire is sweet and loving, but also sassy and can get fiery when she wants. she is a loyal person.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Before and After

I've read a lot of books this year, and the one I'm currently reading talked about how people have these defining events in their lives that they use to mark time. Before the accident; after the election; before we were married; after our kid was born; before we lived in this house; after we moved to Albuquerque...or whatever. We do, at least most of us, do that. And we all of course love the Before and After picture of a makeover or a renovated house or something.

J and I have spent the past 2 weeks dealing with his father, who has never been a positive presence in our lives. Major health issues that are somehow secondary to the issues of where and how he was living leading up to them. We've spent a lot of time, effort, and money in the past 2 weeks trying to fix up his house, and I asked J today, as he left me to go back out there to work on it more, to take some "After" shots (we already have the unfortunate Befores). I didn't go with him today, because my shoulder and back are out from working on it last weekend. So I'm home reading, and thinking about the before and afters in my own life, and in J's, and how we share that one that would mark a lot of people's lives won't even hit our board anywhere.

Together, there's when we met. There's when we got married, bought our home, got and lost our first dog, when we lost our first pregnancy, when we had our son, got our second dog. For J, there's when his grandfather died, when his mother died. For me, there's when my grandparents died, and of course this past year...when A died. What isn't a Before and After marker for either of us that I know is a marker for so many other people is 'When my parent got cancer.' When my mom had cancer, she lied to me about it for months, when I asked why she had suddenly shifted her behavior to not prize work as her top priority and began acting like the mother and grandmother I'd always wanted her to be. 'Is something wrong, Mom?' No, Jennifer. Why would you ask me that? Well...because you're acting weird. Forcing interest and affection where there hasn't been any previously. Even my son thinks it's weird. 'It's weird hugging Gramma. It's like she doesn't know how to do it.' My mom's a survivor, but I don't bring up her cancer, even internally, as a way to mark time, because there's always been a hole in my relationship with her that wasn't there with my grandparents or my pets or A or J or my son. J's dad is also not a caring or affectionate man and never has been. Not even with dogs or babies or anything. But that's not why J won't ever have a marker for his recent diagnosis...maybe not even for his death. It's because of the (literal) back breaking work we've done for two weeks trying to fix all the broken things his dad broke and left broken. It's because no one marks time with drudgery; only love. Grief is love. There's not much grief left when you've already spent a lifetime mourning the loss of a potential loving and meaningful relationship you were supposed to have but never had.

We won't have any markers for our siblings either, regardless of what happens to them. Our still living parents and siblings are obligations rather than close connections. My brother and J's sister only call us when they need something; we involved them in our wedding...they left us out of theirs. They don't ask about our health, our home, our finances, our pets, our marriage, our son, us as individuals. Ever. It's always been the expectation that we'll do what they need for them, assuming almost that we never have needs of our own.

I was chatting with a friend here a couple days ago about the situations we are currently managing with J's dad and my brother and how cutting contact would probably be the healthiest thing for J and I to do, but that's 'the fantasy.' We can't really do it without complicating the relationships with the rest of our family; without taking things away from our son without letting him make the choices for himself. But wow, if we could get the fantasy, that would be a time marker. 'Before we stopped talking to...after we cut off...'

I wonder how many positive time markers we could make without having to spend so much of our time and effort on these people.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Killer Croc Backstory

Howdy, I got like three different asks about Killer Croc/Waylon Jones so we are going to delve into his background really quick for this blog for the sake of clarification. I'm taking less from the original "atavism" story since that genuinely isn't how that would work with a mammalian human and making it more about a genetic condition. Again, there's lots of different backstories for comic characters, this is just my personal take. Hope you enjoy!

Tw: child abuse/neglect, ableism, brief mention of cannibalism, murder, alcoholism

- Waylon was born a relatively "normal" child to Jean and Evangelique Jones in a small Louisiana town. They both noticed even as a baby he had this strange amber tint to those big brown eyes. Other than that and some scaly skin on his thighs, no one suspected there was anything particularly abnormal.

- Yet as he grew, more and more scales would appear on his skin. At first they matched the warm brown tone of his skin, but would start to turn green during puberty (when the scaling got out of control). His eyes became more yellow with each passing year of his life. When his teeth grew in, they were all sharp.

- It was determined to be a very rare genetic condition, passed down that skipped several generations. Waylons father left when it became apparent there was no cure. Despite being from a good sized family, none of them wanted anything to do with the child. In their small superstitious town, his mother was called a witch by some. That this was her punishment for not living a Godly life.

- This resulted in his mother being isolated in her community which turned inward and led to a lot of neglect, alcoholism, and dropping him off on his grandparents.

- some of his earliest real memories was listening to his grandmother Babette singing to him in French. He'd speak in whispered Cajun French to his grandfather James when they'd walk early morning markets hand in hand.

- For a long time they'd be the only ones to tell him the truth- that it was inherited. No one's fault and there's nothing "wrong" with him.

- great-great grandfather was actually similar to Waylon but not as tall. His grandmother would tell him she didn't know him well because he died young. Waylon would later find out he was murdered in his bed shortly after his son was born. His great grandfather had scales on his back he could hide and sharp nails he always cut back. Waylon was just unlucky in the genetic roulette.

- it wasn't surprising when Waylon found out about the murder. There were plenty of times other kids would get a hold of him alone and he himself thought he was going to die.

- Puberty was when he got big, his voice got gravelly, and the scales took over. By the time he was 15, 95% of his body was scaled over. He couldn't even grow hair on his head anymore, tight black curls replaced with almost bony ridges.

- Shortly after, he started fighting back with the bullies. One fight, he tore open another teenagers arm with his claws by accident, which resulted in his expulsion from school. He was spending less and less time with his grandparents due to his mother trying to "take control" of her son.

- She kicked him out at 17 to fend for himself and guilted him to not ask his grandparents for help. They didn't need "him around ruining their lives, too."

- It should be noted many years later, he and his mother made up and grew a relationship after a lot of healing, forgiveness and acknowledgement that how she treated him was wrong even if she was in a rough situation. He can call back home and talk to his grandparents (who now live with mom and her husband) in French for hours. But that's unfortunately much later in the timeline.

- He tried to find some hard labor jobs but nothing really stuck. Eventually, he got hired on as a wrestler for a traveling show. This is when he started drinking. For years he got used to the call of: "And in this corner, from the bayous of Louisiana- Killer Croc!"

- Genuinely it pissed him off no one even asked what he wanted to be called- "I told that couyon announcer there aren't even crocodiles in Louisianna!" But it stuck.

- even once he fell into crime. Wasn't hard, when you were barely making enough to survive. He ended up justifying a lot of horrible things he did as revenge for the way people treated him or as "just survival." He grew to like the taste of blood and picking people out of his teeth. The savagery. A more animalistic side of himself.

- Then it all just became a cycle. Drink, commit violence, go to prison or Arkham. Drink, commit violence, go to prison or Arkham. On a brief relapse he managed to get his GED in Arkham (Edward Nygma helped on threat of being eaten). Then it was drink, drink, commit violence and back where he started.

- it would take a while before he'd kick the alcohol and try to live a somewhat normal life. While he's perhaps not completely reformed in all aspects, he's very different than he once was and better for it.

[stardust-sunset]

very angsty backstory incoming for baylie, read at your own risk

tw: mentions of drugs and such, depression, suicide, the works in an angsty oc backstory.

So!

What I think I’m gonna do with Baylie is have her have her be the second oldest out of seven siblings. She has an older brother, a set of twin siblings, ones a boy and ones a girl and the youngest is her youngest brother. Shes freshly 14 at the time of the move. Her brother is 18. The twins are around 9, her brother is 7, her youngest sister is around 5 and the youngest, an intersex child, was freshly born.

She loved to South Park from somewhere-debating between Australia and somewhere in Europe, likely Ireland or something. But her family moved to America because they didn’t have enough money to live where they were living. So she moved in with her grandparents for a bit. But then her parents and siblings move into a run down shack (think like Kenny’s home but not quite as bad).

Her father ends up in prison because the only way he was anle to make any money was by selling things illegally. After this, her mom kinda spiraled into a depression. At that point, her brother left her with her siblings while he went off to college because he didn’t want to deal with his crumbling family and depressed mom. So around this time, Baylie is basically parenting her three siblings while trying to keep her mom happy, hence her sunshiney exterior. She had been putting it on for years to keep those around her happy and peppy for years, so much so that it kind of just became her personality.

Her mom ends up taking her own life while Baylie and her siblings were at school, leaving Baylie to pick up the pieces. (Baylie was about sixteen at this time) So Baylie ends up having to work just as hard because the police force in South Park is absolute trash, so half the time she’s working four or five jobs on top of school. But the sunshine facade never really leaves her. She keeps in constant with her brother, but he’s off in college and can’t help her out much with money so she’s kind of on her own.

She ends up organizing everything for her siblings. She takes them to church/synagogue whenever she can-she did have a happier childhood before this where her parents were interfaith. her dad was Catholic and her mom was Jewish. They let the kids pick their own pathways when they’re old enough. So Bay tries to honor that. She organizes the twins’ bar/bat mitzvahs, if any of her siblings want to be baptized she organizes that…stuff like that. She looks older than she is and likely has a fake ID so she probably uses that a lot of the time. But she barely sleeps or eats. She’s lucky if she gets two hours a night. Even a meal a day is hard for her because she needs to make sure her siblings have food.

Anyway. I like to think that when some of the other kids find out, they help her somehow. Idk how or if they would but I like incorporating that into her backstory. In this timeline she’s sixteen. This all happened in the span of two years. She probably ends up having a mental breakdown at some point. So that’ll be fun

stay tuned for a comic yall-feel free to send in asks if you want!! i’d love to answer your questions about her/her backstory, i may be slow since i’m away with my family rn but i’ll do my best!

[syncrovoid-presents]

Researching for my hazbin fic (A Cannibal's Guide on Living Comfortably) has also made me realize that my adoptive family (and me in relation to my birth family) actually suffer from cultural loss. And this ties to my adoptive family being half french like Alastor.

This is sort of a personal ramble about my experiences and how it relates to cultural loss. Just thoughts I've been having that's making me rethink a lot of things from my life.

(Technically I'm not but that's a whole other thing. I was found as a kid and never allowed to learn about my birth family or heritage so yeah. I'm just whatever people say I am. Means I have double the cultural loss, both from the people that raised me and my own! Yippee! <- sarcastic)

Both my parents are half french and grew up in small communities where there was very very high English vs French tensions. Both of my parents parent's decided that it would be best to give their children the easiest life they could so they raised them as English as possible.

They weren't allowed to learn french and were punished if they tried (both by family and the community. It was a lot worse where my mother grew up), and weren't allowed to continue any traditions, songs, or anything culturally French. Assimilation was the best chance at a future, but meant that they lost all ties to culture that wasn't acceptably English/colonial.

They were born a long time ago, so this was during the era of corporal punishment in school, my mother wasn't allowed to wear pants, my father was punished repeatedly for using his left hand, etc. They were also forced into churches because that's what The Good English Do, even though neither are religious now nor would they have been forced to if the hatred against the french hadn't been so strong.

The small town my mom grew up in had a segregated neighbourhood for the french, and her family fought to cut all ties. Her mother was french but was forced to only speak English and cut all ties to her family.

I don't know as much for my father, but it was his father that refused to teach or share anything French because of the hardships he went through growing up (he also ran away and lied about his age to fight in the war too young, so he likely faced heavy trauma too)

While neither of my parents are half english, they were able to pass as english at the expense of their cultural identity and connection to their family. I've spoken to my mother about it and she says white culture is genocide, but I don't know if she realizes how it hurt her too (not to say the french did nothing wrong. They were colonialists and took part in genocide as well)

It's weird to realize. I was put in french immersion and while my french isn't great, I've realized that my parents did that to give me the only opportunity I could have to learn about their lost culture. They learned a bit from me and would use french words and sometimes share translation quirks their parents had caused by learning english after french.

I grew up thinking that because I don't know anyone I'm related to that i had no culture. I've realized that part of the reason it feels that way is because anything non-English was forced out of people. The more you could pass as english the heavier the assimilation is. To join the oppressors is to sacrifice culture, history, and family, but that's a choice both my parents parent's made and it's one we all struggle with.

As far as I go, I don't know my precise ancestry, but I do know my birth grandparents fled from a country that was dealing with fighting for independence and a highly struggling economy. I'm not supposed to know that or know anything more, but from what I can guess and based on what people have said I look like (closest thing I got) my ancestors dealt with fighting against being colonized for centuries, their culture and history actively being destroyed and demonized, and the language borderline dead because of it (isnt the british imperialism great? <- sarcasm). A bit over a century ago it would have been the cause of much prejudice and hatred, but like my adoptive parents parent's they traded culture for assimilation.

It's.... weird. There's not much I can change nor not much I can do with this information movie forwards. It has helped me connect my experiences more with that of cultural loss, especially those felt by others who don't know any birth family. Because I pass as white (I do not know my genetics, so I'd rather say that than call myself white. Especially because what ancestry I do know I have weren't historically called white and faced discrimination by white folks) I previously thought these experiences could not apply to me.

As a side note, I do hold the belief that orphans like me, or others that lacked any family for much of their lives are part of a "hidden" minority. I faced a lot of extra difficulties, social pushback, and was treated worse than my peers because I am an orphan, as did different foster siblings I had over the years. Adoption means either never speaking about my life to pass as "normal" or speak about it and face the consequences. Every person's experiences are different when it comes to this, but it really changed the expectations adults had on me and forced me to be more mature, resilient, perfectionistic and less reactive to my peers. The expectation was if you acted bad you didn't appreciate having a home and therefore didn't deserve it. What others kids could get away with can be what loses your home when you grow up an orphan.

Anywho, circling back to my fic I'll be adding some elements of my experiences in there too. Not as the main focus, mind you, but some of the struggles of adapting/assimilating to the majority to avoid discrimination will be present (as well as some French (more focused on Creole French history. It was something a few of my french teachers focused a lot on) ). Just background info, I'm as of yet undecided on how much of a character study it will all be, but if it does go into it more then these themes will be present

[luvingmyships]

Kitana Kai has always been the kind of girl too really not care what people thought of her. She’s always been the best at what she did.Academic's, sports, and serving looks, and having a great alluring personality that brought people in, especially all the the boys to the yard but in many of causes it didn’t work out with them.Commitment was the farthest thing from her mind. She liked going out partying/clubbing (possibly illegally)and meeting new guys and always been upfront with her intentions ,and it didn’t change when her dad kinda uprooted her life, and moved her too her homeland of japan where she’ll be collecting another trail of tears.

Hello to all who open up my work. This is one of the first stories I’m attempt to write my best, and I’m very open to critics lets just not be mean about it. In this story the main character is multi-racial, Japanese and Afro-Latina, is identity is what makes her HER. she’s fun, flirty, and also young women that makes a lot mistakes and helps her growth. I haven’t really seen many Haikyuu stories with a black women, and I took my chance to make one, Thank you <3

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Kitana Kai

The thing about me is that I didn’t choose hoe life; it chose me. I wasn’t one to settle down in relationships. I’m young and hot, and I didn't want to limit my options, so in the meantime, I like messing with guys and their emotions. Sure, it might be a little immature, but I’m just giving them a taste of their medicine. Sometimes if they interest me enough, I might give them an inch. I like clubbing and going out and having a good time, and until now.

Some might say me being this way has something to do with both of my parents not being around. It’s not that they're dead; they are absent from my life more than I would like, and this is how I want to feel the void of it. My mom has been excluded from my life for the past fifteen years, and she cheated on my dad with a younger guy. The guy eventually left her, which led her into deep desperation is where my grandparents had to raise me. We had to come back to America from Japan because they thought I should see the other half of my family. My dad always tried to be there for me, but things were always getting in the way, working full-time and being a graduate student in engineering took a toll on him and his ability to care for me. It got better when he got his degree and had an excellent job waiting for him. While I was living with my grandparents for most of my adolescent life, my dad flew me out to see me about thousand times to spend the summer months with him and his new wife; and they also came to see me when they were able to, which made me feel seen as a child. My dad didn't have full guardianship because my grandparents wanted to. I reminded them of my mom, and my dad thought it was the most feasible thing for him to do.

My family is a little different than most because my mom is Afro-Dominican, and my dad is Japanese, not a combination you would see every day. However, they initially tried to raise me in the best of both worlds. Unlike most black biracial people, I had darker skin than most, which I had gotten from my mother. Born in Japan, having darker skin than the majority was the easiest; the only thing my father passed down to me was his eyes, where people could tell I was of Asian descent. I spent the first six years of my life in Japan, consumed by its culture; it became my first language. However, I'm still pretty proficient in Spanish and English, which made my dad think I was a prodigy to transition through them, which boosted my ego into the bad bitch I am today.

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The plane was closer to landing. Although Kitana was already ready to fly out of her seat to get them off, she had enough of the guy sitting next to her “accidentally” bumping and rubbing against her leg with his own. He thought he was so slick, looking at her sheepishly. She was ready to slap the shit out of him but risking the no-fly list was not something she wanted to do. God give her patience. She was on this plane now, landing in Japan because her grandparents thought it was time she got the chance to live with her father before she began college.

When the plane landed, Kitana stood up to get her to carry on, and the guy stood way too close, waiting to get his eyeing her up and down like he was sizing her up to see if she was a challenge.

“Do you need any help getting your luggage down, ma’am?” he asked her, already trying to reach for it, but Kitana had already snatched it down fast before he could intervene.

“No, I’m good,” she said, glaring at him rolling her eyes hard and making it down the pathway of the plane to get off. As if he had a sliver of a chance with her looking like he was fighting his receding hairline, a mortgage, and struggling to provide for his family of five.

When she made it to the airport, Kitana was already getting weird stares from the people in the airport, which she understood. She’s a black person in japan. In this country, most people wouldn't have seen black people in real life if it wasn't for television and the internet. Also, she looked confusing to most people in Japan. She had a prominent Asian feature with her eyes, but her brown skin, textured hair in a vast pineapple puff on top of her head, full lips, and slim, thick fat ass made people do a double-take, which the majority in japan does not have. Japanese beauty standards tend toward light, flawless skin, a slim, petite figure, slender legs, and a quiet personality, which Kitana did not possess when she had to speak her mind.

She tried to scavenge her dad in the sea of people that filled the airport; it didn't help that she was only five-four, so that didn't help the cause of trying to see over people's heads, so she just called her dad instead while grabbing her suitcase from baggage claim.

“Dad, where are you? I landed, and I don't see you?” Kitana said, pulling her heavy-ass luggage towards the escalator to a lower level, her piercing over the sea of people.

“ Baby, I’m on the lower level. I think I see you and your pineapple hair,” Kitana's father, Haru, said, laughing in her ear like he said the funniest thing ever. “Daddy, what did I tell you? It's called a puff; you've been with a black woman and got a black daughter and still don't know what a whole puff is with that big brain,” she said, finally getting off the escalator.

“Sweetie, you know I’m only playing with you,” Haru said, still chuckling while surprising her from behind and shocking her with a hug.

“Dad, I missed you so much; it's been too long, you know, not to sneak up on black people like that,” she said, laughing into the hug and squeezing him tight, not wanting to go because he was always there to confront the person. They started walking out of the entrance of the airport.

“I missed you too, Koibito. I’m glad we can finally be together as a whole family now; Aika and the kids are very excited to see you again, he said, to which Kitana wasn’t very surprised. Her step-mom Aika loved as if she was her daughter and would send goodies over the sea to America, and they talked on the phone almost twice a week more than she did with her father. Her little brothers also made sure their presence was known every week with FaceTime calls which she loved though it was a bit excessive. They were middle schoolers, so it's not like they had many people to call though it was appreciated.

“I’m excited to see them too, and I can’t wait to eat okaasan food. I know how she likes to make a feast every time I come around.”

“Yeah, I know she already started preparing in the morning, I just wanted to taste a little bit of it, and she hit me; also, we're not going straight home just yet. I know you're tired, but I have to pick up some important documents and items from my school, and you're going along,” Harui said while putting her luggage into his car.

“And here I thought I could just rest after my 13-hour flight,’’ Kitana groaned as she got in the car. “Don't worry, you’ll be able to rest later; it's not too far, and well, definitely make it in time for dinner.”

Kitana and her father made it out of the airport and on the ride to their first destination. They talked about her life back in America. She was at the top of her class in academics. She was a fantastic athlete in volleyball; she took her team to championships twice. She was a very accomplished person for where she was; her uprooting to live in Japan just changed the flow of everything. It's something she has to get used to. Her dad reassured her that she would do excellent even in the new environment; she would thrive.

They pulled up to Shiratorizawa Academy, a private high school in Sendai, the capital of Miyagi Prefecture. Her father teaches a couple of classes throughout the day, besides being an engineering professor at one of the nearby schools' colleges. Since the entrance exam is challenging, most students get accepted by studying hard or through sports scholarships. However, Kitana cannot attend since her father teaches, and since she has yet to take their entrance exam before her first year, it was never going to happen. So instead, she would attend Karasuno High, located in Miyagi Prefecture; it’s a bit farther. But her dad promised her a car when she came here, so it will not be a problem.

Looking out the window, Kitana saw a massive group of boys running in the same uniform, purple practice shirts, white shorts, and a zip-up jacket about half a mile away from the school, piquing her interest. They were all tall, so she guessed either basketball or volleyball for their sport of choice. They all turned to face her as the car was driving by, and she examined them, and they all looked cute to her, but the one that caught Kitana's eyes was in the front leading the run. The number on his back was number one. He was fine and had permission to get in her drawers whenever he wanted. He would tower her by a lot, she was only 5’4, and he looked above 6 feet. He had a nice lean-bulky body that Kitana wouldn't mind climbing. Unlike the rest of his team, He turned to look at her with an automatically resting bitch face that and stoic statured. Kitana stared right back at him and winked directly as they passed him. She had a thing for men like that. It was kind of her toxic trait.

When the school came into her line of sight, she was impressed with how big it was and how the building was structured. It did look like they prioritized sports in their school. There was horseback riding, tennis, and a soccer field outside. They had two separate outside gyms for the girls and boys where basketball and volleyball were practiced and played. She wouldn't have minded attending this school and joining the volleyball team; she saw reports on how both genders of the school dominate the sport of volleyball. It ranked 8th in the whole country. Who wouldn't want to be a part of that? But it's okay because no matter where she goes, she will dominate the team.

Kitana's father parked the car near the school and followed suit out of the car with him, and she was too nosey to explore the school. The sun and warmth felt great on her being outside the cold ass plane.

As Kitana and her father were making it towards the school entrance, the boys finally caught up and gathered at the front of the outside gym building, all trying to catch their breath. Their arrival brought out an older man in a tracksuit replica of their uniform, walking up to the somewhat middle-aged man supporting a buzz cut and glasses. Kitana was trying not to look, mind her business, or get in the building until her dad switched the route they were walking in and thought it was okay to get the older man's attention.

“Hello, coach Washijo is still working my students to the core, I see,” Haru says as he approaches closer to the coach and his team; they all seem too fixated on the person behind him.

“Well, how else do you think the team will get to the championships if they're not pushed to their limits? I'm not here to babysit. I'm here to train winners,” Coach Washijo said, already getting sidetracked on his plans for the team. While that conversation took place, it gave the team a chance to look at Kitana, and they were perplexed by how attractive she was. Her hair was pulled back in very neat flat braids that exposed her beautiful face with moles and freckles scattered, lips perfectly full with gloss coating them. Dressed in a light grey zip-up hoodie and grey-fit seamless athletic shorts that exposed her smooth brown legs glistening in the sun gathered the majority of the attention from the boys and the people passing by. The only gaze Kitana did not mind was the captain, who was much cuter closer up. He had dark olive-brown hair, matching hazel-green eyes, and a stoic expression, which was pretty intimidating. He has a large, muscular yet lean build and is relatively tall. His eyes moved up and down Kitana's body thinking he was slick with his glances until he met Kitana’s, who was already looking at him. She caught his eyes before making sure he knew she was slowly checking him out and gave out a dimpled smile when a blush formed on his face, which caused him to look away.

“Sensi Kai, are you gonna introduce us to the foreigner hottie that's behind you,” a voice said that pulled Kitana out of her trance, and her eye zeroed on the tall red-headed boy thats she could automatically tell had a goofy vibe about him, that just automatically made her laugh; her dad’s face turning completely red didn't help anything.

“ Satori, I would appreciate it if you reframed from using any of those unrefined comments on my daughter,'' Haru said, responding Grimley to Tendo, who also received a solicited glare from his couch.

“Well, daddy is not like he lied about me being hot cause I am most definitely not a foreigner but thank you, though,” Kitana responded in Japanese, which put the team in a state of shock that brought a deep belly laugh from the coach which was a lot more shocking than anything. This was the first time they heard it, and the man barely smiled.

“Kitana,” her dad said, not liking the sound of his daughter expressing how she looked hot, especially to these little foul-mind boys. Kitana looked away for a second to escape the glare her dad was making sure to give her, and the boy that misspoke received the same glare from his coach, to which he automatically apologized.

“And Tendo, one more word out of you, the whole team will be running another extra lap,” the coach said, which had the rest of the team looking at the redhead, daring him to say another word out of pocket.

“No need, it's fine, I'm not offended at all,” Kitana says, trying to get the heat off of him and the attention back to her, on which she succeeded because there the boys go again, checking her out. She didn't, especially from the green-eyed boy that was just carefully observing her with a slightly intimidating reactionless manner about her. Like he was disinterested in this whole ordeal and was wasting time.

“Anyways, this is my daughter Kitana. She just came from America today and will stay with me until she graduates. The funny thing is, my baby is also an amazing volleyball player, with a lot of champions under her belt,’’ Haru said, beaming with an endless amount of pride, causing Kitana to shield herself from the embarrassment of her dad always bringing this topic up in front of people.

“Really, in what position” the old man's coach said, not convinced that a person of Kitana's small-statured was a remotely great player. She didn’t like being doubted by anyone and was already catching an attitude.

“Yes, really, I was captain of my team before the move as a setter, but I was occasionally a spiker, and I can assure you that my dad isn’t wrong; I’m a winner and am the best at what I do,” Kitana said looking at the grumpy old ass old man with her arms crossed in a challenging way.

“Well, in that case, why don't you join us for practice today.”The other younger coach said, intervening before anything else could be said between them. Kitana wanted to decline because she didn’t prove herself to these men, but her dad beat her to a response.

“She’d love to. I have a few things to grab inside from my class anyways so you can join them, hon” Giving her a little forehead kiss and pushing her towards the group before leaving her with a wave.

“Well, I’m joining you guys for a minute. Let's see how great you are,'' Kitana says, turning her attention back to the team and giving them a dimpled smile that made most of them weak in the knees. They all filled into the colossal gym and started getting paired off for warm-ups and passing drills, and Kitana got paired off to number eight on the team. A first-year boy that was kind of adorable. He looked about 5’11 with a medium build, and his most notable attribute was the back bowl cut that he was wearing. He introduced himself with a fit of stutters as she took her jacket off, revealing the grey backless sports bra she was wearing underneath,also revealing the tattoo placed on her spine near her neck were two koi fish in Ying -Yang and going down the spine in Japanese Kanji had the saying “ a montage of love”. Kitana was big on tattoos, other than the one on her back she had a vine of flowers under her left under boob. Two butterfly tattoos on her head that she shared with a friend and the back of her right ear two small tattoos of the sun and the moon with tiny stars.

“I-um,’’ He squeaks when he tries to speak, so he clears his throat before restarting, “Goshiki!” he says so loud, sticking his hand out that all the other boys were snickering because of it, Specially that red-headed one from earlier.

Kitana rolled her eyes at them and shook his hand. “Well, hello, Goshiki, I don’t know if you heard earlier, but I’m Kitana. It’s nice to meet you. Looks like I’m your practice partner for today’’ She says, smiling up at him, causing him to blush. Seeing a pretty girl this up close that smelled amazing and had the potential to be a great volleyball player was the highlight of his week.

He stood there for a second just taking her in without blinking. “ Are you good in there my guy” she says, laughing a little, taking him out of his trance, getting a little closer with the ball in hand.

“Umm- yeah, yes I’m good, I just thought your tattoo is pretty cool. Did it hurt? Wait, did your dad allow you to get that? Are those the only ones you have? I’m sorry I’m asking too many questions.” Goshiki replied nervously, fingers running through his bangs,panicking inside a little, believing that the questions were a little intrusive to her. But he was just curious, no one he knew had a tattoo. Usually the people are very discreet, with keeping there’s hidden. but here’s this girl, not caring, having her back out in display with it, decorating her spine, which all just made her a whole lot more appealing than she already does.

It seems to be that the other players were in agreement with his internal thoughts, with her facing him. He’s able to catch them, with they’re envious sneaking peeks.Tendo, wasn’t even trying to hide it . All a bit shocked by her back exterior. Even the coaches.

“ No, you’re good, I don't mind the questions. Yes, my dad knows, about it he’s the one that paid for it as a birthday present and my overall accomplishments. But since I was 17 getting it, I needed my grandparents permission. I can’t lie,Yes, it hurts a bit. And also yes, I have three other more” she says, giving the ball a little dribble.

“Really?? where are they” He says catching the ball passed to his eyes spreading all over her body to see the different inks.

“Well they’re in secret places, can’t really show unless you want to get really close and personal” she says teasingly this boy was easy. His cheeks started to get red and flustered.

“ It's a joke, what position do you play?”

“I’m a winged spiker, but I will take Ushijima's spot and be the ace of this team,” Goshiki says excitedly, starting the passing drill with the ball where they pass to themselves at first and then backward pass to their partner.

“Winged spiker, okay, we love to see it. I was one alsoe; I still am, actually, but I’m a setter for most of my games. Since you're not the ace, who’s this Ushijma that is' ' Kitana says while hitting her pass backward.

“Shirt # 1, he's the captain of our team. He plays as a wing spiker and is the team's ace. He was the number one ace in Miyagi Prefecture and ranked among the country's top three aces.,” Goshiki says, catching the ball, head nodding towards the direction of the net where there was a three-person practice happening with striking, which involved the talkative red-head who was #5, #10 who seemed to be lecturing him about something, and then # 1 who turned out to be the fine ass stoic guy who she was checking out, now she was continuing to do.

“ We’ll dame he’s pretty hardcore, skill level is amazing too, and kinda cute is he in a relationship” Kitana said not one to beat around the bush when she wants something, and for right now, her eyes were set on the captain.

“Cute??” Goshiki says almost missing the ball, in which he had hit the receive harder than he should have,perplexed by the words that just came out of her mouth, and her boldness.Ironically the ball ending up near the foot of ushijima.

[crimsonclove]

Did you know that my last living week in my born state was during 1999? That the only reason I’m still alive is because of a few family members?

It wasn’t that far after school had started for fifth grade. The summer I had gone away and come back to a new mother. Same person, but different. To the same apartment we had been in for a while… But different. To the same life, but different. I was terrified, I felt completely abandoned, because when you’re 9 years old and the only ‘stable’ world you were in changes how are you supposed to feel?...

I grew up with a teen mom, with her and her parents in Washington. We were on a cul-de-sac and I while I do not remember the meeting of our next-door neighbors, I know that they were the closest things to siblings and best friends that I had at the time while growing up. I was attached. We got into trouble, we played in the mud, in the flowers, and while they could climb trees, I could not. At some point we moved, and then they moved, but somehow, we ended up back at square one, just shifted to different places to live.

I don’t recall trauma bonding much, but I’m certain it was there from the time or remembering the oldest daughter washing dishes and making the younger kids ramen, to the second daughter making little tiny braids in my hair, to the third being a know it all “big sister” to myself, and the fourth daughter who I remember eating PBJ sandwiches with. My birthday falls between the third and fourth daughter. … I remember their mother making homemade playdough for us at some points in times. I don’t remember a load of bad times because I probably blocked a good chunk of my childhood out of my mind or I just let it disappear because I can’t imagine holding onto so much…darkness as a child. Regardless over the years, these kids became the closest things to siblings I had ever had. (Do I have actual siblings? Yes, however, there’s such a large gap in age that I don’t really know them like I knew these girls. Best friends in middle and high school were a close second.)

I went away one summer to visit the other side of my family and when my I returned my whole life had just changed. Time wise it seemed like it was instantaneous, but that happens when you leave the state, even a month or two- time is just effortless and ‘timey-wimey’ like so. While I was gone, all four girls were gone, the grandparents who had helped raise me moved to another state, and the lady who picked me up at the airport looked nothing like my mother but swears she was. (It really was her, no worries for an attempted child abduction.) I started school in the same elementary school I had been going to off and on since kindergarten ( I was bullied relentlessly), I lost so many keys when it came to getting back into our apartment from their office, I walked myself to and from school. I’m not sure who did my laundry if it was done at all. There was ramen, Cheerios, Syrup, and chocolate malt-o-meal in the apartment in the house, and water from the tap. ( I would ear cold malt-o-meal, and cheerios covered in syrup, and hard ramen.)

I remember seeing my mother a handful of times through out the entire start of school till November. At some point during a weekend my mom, the girls’ mom, and I and someone else got to drive to Idaho and go see daughter 3 &4 at their dads. I was so excited to see them again, only to realize that it felt like I was lost and not remembered because they kept calling me by their cousin’s name who they were spending time with. I was annoyed at that, but when we left to go back to Washington I remember my heart feeling heavy and my world feeling worse, even as I tried pushing away the feelings.

One weekend, I went to spend the night with my Uncle and Aunt, I don’t remember a whole lot, but I remember my mom not coming to pick me up when she said that she was going to. I remember my Aunt comforting me about spending another night, distracting me with who knows what at the time. Then it was another day, and while I remember my mom finally coming to take me home, I wasn’t allowed to leave with her, and instead my mom’s sister came and got me, and for weeks I got to stay with her. Where I had clean clothes, where I had actual food to eat, where I had one large dog that I enjoyed playing with, and two small dogs who didn’t like me much, but my Aunt adored them. Can I say how thankful I am for her? No… There aren’t enough words as I type this to describe that she is by far the only reason that I was not turned over to CPS, to end up in a foster program at age 9. Even through hearing her and her husband at the time fighting, though I don’t remember the words, I do know that it was about me, and about my mom.

Within 3 weeks I was told that I’d be packing stuff up and moving out of state to live with my grandparents and that... That was how I ended up in a new state in a nutshell. Dealing with things that I probably should have been in therapy for to learn how to handle and regulate everything that happened.

[silelda]

Was trying to look up some family information and got stopped, dead in my tracks, by a news article about my family that left me torn between laughing and screaming.

Note/Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Foster care

My grandparents were foster parents for over 50 kids in their time on top of having 4 kids of their own, who were grown by the time they started fostering. My grandfather was a pastor of a non-denominational church. So, of course, the news article is spun to be a “wholesome christian couple”.

What got me was a quote from my grandmother, “Working with the children is just a natural with us --- it always has been”. Let me tell you, that was

The levels of abuse my mother and siblings went through was disgusting. They nearly died on more than one occasion. My mom had irreparable brain damage by the time she was 5! The only one of her siblings who might have any kind of mental stability or health is the one who ran away to California as a teenager! They purposefully abused their own children and then they brought in foster kids.

You know who took care of the foster kids? My mom. When she had to move back home after dropping out of college. And again, when my dad forced us to move back. My aunt, who suffered from such extreme anxiety, she could barely leave the house. My grandmother sat on her ass ALL DAY. She barely ever interacted with the foster kids.

After I was born, we lived literally next door to them. Mom was expected to help out with all of the foster kids and her own kids. That place was practically my second home. And let me tell you, I will never forget that stench. The creatures in the walls. How everything was treated as normal, including the fact that there were never any less than 5 foster kids at any one time.

The kids at my grandparents’ house were feral. They had been through serious emotional if not physical trauma. They needed love and care. They needed attention. They needed comfort. Instead, they got a shit ton of noise, chaos, and what few adults could help were too drained to do so at the levels these kids needed.

So when I read that quote from my grandmother about how it was natural for her and grandpa to work with kids, my brain kinda short-circuited. Especially since she genuinely believed it. She likely died believing she did nothing wrong. That she did take care of all of those kids.

I don’t really know how/where to go with this. I just really, really needed to get it out of my brain.

Please be kind to one another and don’t be afraid to ask for help.

[nermalsnotes]

Getting Older

When you are a teenager, you can't wait to grow up. Your mom tells you that you will regret not enjoying your life as a young person. You start laughing and tell her I want to grow up and live my life. Boy I should have listened to mom. My mom was a single parent from the time I was 4 on. I should have known that she knew what she was talking about. With the help of my grandparents she raised me. Mom and grandma were two of the strongest women I have ever known.

I just turned 50 and man life is not as easy as I thought it would be. I developed severe depression in 1986, after my my very best friend from passed away from Cystic Fibrosis. My grandfather, the only father figure I had ever known passed away in 1991. In 1992, I marry a man that looking back I didn't love. I only married him was because my first love was already married and I was trying to move on. We divorced in 1993.....separating after only 4 months as husband and wife.

1993, My first love is going through a divorce at the same time I am so, we lean on each other. He and I were best friends in high school and we had picked up where we left off. He came home from the Gulf war pretty messed up and I was there for him, giving reassurance that everything would be okay. We date until 1995 when I get pregnant with our son D We get married in January of 1996 and our beautiful son was born in June of 1996. Everything was going well until he starting to abuse me. We separated February of 1997. We still went to counseling to try to save our marriage, I had left our home and, with my son, moved in to my grandma's house. Our marriage was over when he struck me with our son in the back seat. December 23rd or 24th of 1997 everything was finalized. So much for the promise that everything would be okay. I feel like I failed our "In sickness and in heath" vows of marriage.

Did I still love him? of course I did. However, I had to choose safety of myself and my child was more important than love. I had many friends who watched daddy beat up mommy I vowed that was never going to happen to my child. I would protect him at all costs.

He was never the same after he came home from Saudi. Come to find out he was verbally abused by his superiors and developed PTSD, but also came into contact with chemicals that really messed him up.

You know, a divorce is almost like a loved one dying. What you once had is gone, but the person you're grieving for is still alive. That is the biggest mind f*ck the universe can give you. Grieving for the person you fell in love with not being the same person, but his body hasn't changed, physically he is still the same.

I wouldn't find out til later that I had Battered woman's syndrome and PTSD from the abuse. My ex #2? He is 52 years old living in a group home because the WAR messed him up so bad that he can't take care of himself anymore. This breaks my heart but what can you do but live your life to the best possible no matter how heart breaking it might be to do. So, as 25 years old in addition to my depression, I also had PTSD and battered woman's syndrome. A lot to deal with as a newly, single parent.

Thankfully my mom and grandma helped me until D was 3. More on that next post.

[dead-man-in-the-grave]

traumadump below the cut lol

when i was in third grade, my family was really poor. we weren't homeless, but we barely had enough money to pay the bills and still buy food. there was rarely any money left over for luxuries. despite really not having the money to afford it, my grandparents wanted me to go to a catholic school, at least for a while. they pitched in about half the tuition (which was already lower than normal since my grandmother worked for that school's church) and made my parents pay the rest.

sometimes i wonder if things would've happened differently if they hadn't needed to pay that tuition

in third grade, my family got another cat. his name was Blu, because his eyes were blue when he was a kitten, but they changed to a yellow-orange when he got older. his previous owner had a daughter that was allergic to cats, so they couldn't keep him.

he was a grey american longhair, if i remember correctly, and he really loved our dog, Daisy. he didn't care much for our other cat, Sasha, and she absolutely hated him. to be fair though, she hates every animal she meets.

we didn't even have him for a full year, but i loved that cat. he was the second cat my family had adopted after i was born, the first being Sasha.

a few months into having him, he got urinary crystals from the shitty water we have where we live. apple cider vinegar held it off, for a while, and i thought he had a chance.

my parents knew his time was limited

it kept getting worse. he was bleeding internally and would oftentimes refuse to use the litter box. he was in pain constantly.

near the end of his life, he rarely left the tub, let alone the bathroom. he would lay on his side in the tub and would only move if you talked to him or pet him.

we were too poor to euthanize him to give him a painless send-off

i get home from school one day, and i drop my bag on the floor, take off my shoes, and run to see Blu in the bathroom. Dad says he was in there about five minutes ago, and he was still responsive, though barely.

i get to the bathroom and lean over the edge of the tub and say hi to him. no response. i call his name. no response. i reach out and pet him. he doesn't move. he's still warm. Mom and Dad enter the bathroom after me. i call his name louder, i shake him. i call louder, louder, louder. i'm screaming. i start crying. Mom and Dad are crying, too.

i can't breathe. i'm sobbing too hard to. this isn't my first encounter with death, nor is it my last. it still hits me hard.

he wasn't even a year old

Dad buries him in the back yard. under an apple tree, with the other cats we've lost. i still miss him. i still wish we had the money back then to save him, or at least give him a relatively painless death. but we didn't, and i can't change what's already come to pass...

in retrospect, this is probably why my biggest fear is the death of loved ones. my own death scares me, sure, but death taking others? the thought is terrifying.

on multiple occasions, i've seen my sister asleep and motionless, and had to watch her for a minute to make sure she's still breathing. sometimes i'll see Sasha asleep and have to pet her to make sure she's not dead. i fear that one of my parents or grandparents will die in the middle of the night and i'd just go on with my day like nothing was wrong. i'm scared that one of my friends will die and i'll go to school and the only thing i'll think when they're not there is "huh, i guess they're sick today"

in other words, i've got death-related trauma, and i decided to make that everyone else's problem

[simplywhytney]

Chapter 1.20 - Arguments at the Farm

“You’re back!”

Andi met her husband in the kitchen after getting Peanut settled.

“Yeah.” She kissed her husband on the cheek before heading towards the stairs.

“Can you help me with dinner? My parents went out on a date. I think they were taking the train to Windenburg, so they’ll be back late.” Devon said.

“They left Aisha?”

Devon laughed, “Of course. It’s a date, babe. You remember those right.”

“No, I do but did you forget?”

“Forget what?”

“We’re supposed to be having dinner in Willow Creek with my family tonight. I even went ahead and booked us a room at the hotel next to the restaurant since the train ride is over an hour. I’m going to get the bags ready, now so we can catch the next train.”

“Oh, Andi, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. When mom asked if we had anything going on today, I told her no. We were good to watch Aisha while they’re out. Can you reschedule?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You know my aunt’s work schedule. It’s hard for her to get away. This dinner has been planned for over two weeks and I reminded you several times!”

“I’m sorry, Andria, but it’s not like I could say no to my mom.” Andi rolled her eyes and began to walk away. “Whatever, Devon. Everything revolves around your family.”

“What was that Andi?”

Andria turned around and faced her husband again. “I said everything always revolves around your family. We live with your family. We have Sunday dinner with your family. Despite the fact that my cousin Nia lives half an hour away, she’s never even invited! My Watcher, your mother knew we had plans this evening because I told her yesterday about them and she was fine. I mentioned how excited I was about surprising you with the hotel and us finally getting some time to ourselves. But for some reason, all of a sudden, your parents decide to have a date night today! And you expect me to cancel my plans with my family, to accommodate yours.”

“Andria, what the hell! My family is important to me. They’re all I have.” Devon called.

“All you have? All you have? Devon, you have two parents and a little sister. You grew up living with one set of grandparents, and the other was around every week. My mom died when I was four, Devon! She was only 20 and she hadn’t had any contact with her family since before I was born. All I have is my aunt and my cousin. I didn’t have anyone else! I don’t know who my father was, and I’ve never met my grandparents. I could have siblings, out there but who knows? I just wanted to have all the people who love me in one room for dinner, because it happens so infrequently. But that’s not important to you is it? It’s not as important as your family.”

Devon stared at his wife in shock. He did not know she felt that way.

“Andi,” he said in a softer tone.

“No, Devon. You can fix dinner by yourself and take care of your sister by yourself. I’m packing and heading to Willow Creek for dinner with my family. I won’t be back tonight either.” Andi turned around and resumed her trek up the stairs.