her and her mom are my adoptive family


more of my modern domestic au, where we ain’t gotta worry about the butterfly effect, chronological displacement and the effects it has on aging, or the threat of aku’s tyranny on a mass scale; just a happy polyamorous trio raising a family together.

on todays ep of au doodles: little ashi has two loving adoptive dads and a loving adoptive mom as well as whole mess of adoptive sisters, all of whom will love and protect her after the hardships shes been through and they are all understanding of her issues and are patient with her. 

also mya and david! they get to be in this au because i love them. in my au jack is a martial arts teacher (im thinking he teaches judo specifically, but i dunno) and theyre two of his students.

Can you all offer up prayers for a friend of my husband’s?

A couple days ago, she shared that she was heavily pregnant and due any day. Today she announced the baby’s birth. She has no steady boyfriend and has a habit of being in unhealthy, sexually risky relationships, so she she is giving an infertile friend of hers the baby to raise; because they are close, the adoption will be an open one, thankfully.

I guess I just want everyone to pray for the health of the mom, the baby, and the new family, and to also pray that this experience allows her to wake up to what she has been doing to herself and see her value and worth.

Thank you!

Kobayashi Gives Kanna “The Talk” (This Time It’s Not What You Think It Is)

More Dragon Maid family feels.  Today we’re serving some “shit I adopted a dragon baby” stress and partially reluctant grappling with mom-ing feelings on Kobayashi’s part. Just the kind of unabashed fluff I usually produce, this time in the g rated spectrum.

If Dragon Maid fic is your thing, there’s two more on my handy dandy fanfic masterlist.

Kobayashi feigns getting up from her desk to get coffee when her phone lights up with an incoming call. It’s Tohru, which isn’t unusual. She doesn’t know how to text and Kobayashi doesn’t feel she can really be trusted with much more than the landline at the apartment quite yet. Although she usually waits until lunch to call. She wonders what’s so urgent that she couldn’t wait the half hour. 

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Death’s Choice

I tried really hard to get my kid out of my neighborhood. When he was born, I made all the promises I’m sure my old man made to me when I was young.

You’re not gonna live like this.

You’re gonna be better than me.

You’re gonna be somebody.

But what does an eighteen year old know about getting anybody outta anywhere? I couldn’t even get myself out. Me and my girl lived in my mom’s basement while we tried to get our shit together for Abel’s sake, but it was never gonna work. She was younger than me, she didn’t want to be a mom, and she split when he was only a couple months old.

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Ahhh, finally I can release this! This was so fun to write you guys, I hope you enjoy! 

Chapter 11:

The walk back to E. Bonanza Street is a long and quiet one. But hey, my brain is flooded with preoccupying thoughts so what the hell do I care. I have to think of what I’m going to say when I get back to Cartman’s house. My Mom and her insistent family bonding time can wait and it’s not like she’ll be too bothered by me being late. She’s probably still on her “My adopted Son won a national competition” high. I plug my earbuds into my phone, letting my music pick up the pace of my steps.

It shouldn’t be too hard to think of what to say to Cartman’s parents, really. Whatever might be going on, Cartman is still Liane’s son. She of all people wouldn’t let Cartman freeze to death. I’ve known that since we were young.

Whenever we went on camping trips she made it a point to make sure he really wanted to go. She’d fold every single one of his clothes and neatly pack them into his backpack along with a meal of his choice, even if it took all day to accomplish and kept us waiting. She told him over and over that he should call her if he needed her for anything.

Back then, her coddling always pissed Cartman off, but he probably misses that right about now…

My footsteps slow to a stop when I feel a tiny soft particle land on my face.

…Snow… Right now it’s coming down in gentle sprinkles.

Dammit… I hope Cartman will be alright out here. Hopefully the snow’s only a light layer…

Oh, what am I saying? I can get him home before the night ends.

My steps escalate to a brisk walk, then to a jog. It’s only 11 AM, but the sooner I get this over with the better. The Cartman household is thankfully at the end of the street and comes into view quickly. Whenever I can see my goal I tend to get there faster. I make my way down their extensive walkway and up the doorstep.

All they need to know is Cartman’s being stubborn and needs a little push to apologize. Parents tend to listen to the defense of their kid’s friends better than the kid’s own defense. And when we’re talking about Cartman, he could definitely use the help. I press my finger to the rounded doorbell and let it ring, letting my music play in one earbud while I wait.

Now that I think about it, was anyone home when Cartman broke in this morning? There didn’t seem to be any reaction at all to the glass shattering.

Huh. I wonder if it was too quiet for them to hear from anywhere except the back?

Just then the door opens, and I’m once again greeted by Liane Cartman.

“Oh, hello again Kyle.” She coos. She’s dressed a little more modestly now, wearing a billowy nightgown.

“Morning Mrs. Cart-”

“Reynolds,” She speaks over me.

Bad start already. “Liane will probably be easier for me to remember.” I say.

Her smile widens and she places her hand on her hip. “What can I do for you, sweety?”

Continue on AO3 >>
Continue on FF.net >>

Queen of the Water (1)

Bucky x Reader

Summary: A normal girl gets thrown into the Royal world. Royal AU

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: swearing, angst

Part 2 Part 3

Originally posted by surphile

Her world turned upside down at the age of sixteen. She had just gotten back from a scuba diving trip in the Cayman Islands with her uncle, and her mother had returned from her three month ‘business trip’ to England. Her and her uncle knew better, she had ‘fallen in love’ with a handsome British man, and she came back because it didn’t work out. Her relationships never worked out whenever she went overseas ‘for work.’ It was complete bullshit. Her mother neglected her and her uncle was practically her father. Although her father had run out on her, too. She had no recollection of him, and she didn’t want to know who he was. It would hurt too much. He didn’t want her in his life, and she didn’t want him in hers.

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CAMILLA: You have quite a big family, is that fun?

JILLY: Fun? I mean, it’s okay. My twin brother likes to steal my toys and my big brother is always playing chess whenever I want to play. My big sister moved out before I grew up though, but I remember her playing with me a lot, she was very sweet. My moms actually adopted another sister, Oxolotl! I haven’t seen her yet, only on pictures, but my moms say that she’s really sweet!

CAMILLA: That sounds wonderful! My family isn’t as big as yours though. I just live with my mom, which pretty sucks sometimes. I’m glad you noticed me, because I don’t go outside much. I don’t have anyone to play with, so I usually read or play with my dolls.

JILLY: Don’t you feel lonely?

CAMILLA: Nah, I like playing by myself. No one ever steals my toys ;)

JILLY: Har har

Waiting Anxiously - Part 1

I sit there in my bed, my legs tucked close to me as I pull my knees to my chest hugging myself tightly.
My heart rate picks up, my head starts to pound, my throats feels tight, my chest feels heavy, beads of sweat are forming on my forehead.
Most of the time I can feel these things coming on and I can prepare for the wave or try and stop myself from even stepping in the water. This one had no warning though, just a sudden increase in paranoia over nothing.
As I sat in my bed I could feel the emotions intensify. I reach over on my night stand and quickly put my headphones on and press play on the iPod I keep plugged in at all times. I smooth my finger over the surface and turn the volume up.
I let the smooth beat and the soft vocals fill my ears and let the words seep into my mind.
I have found just a handful of songs can stabilize these moments if not get rid of them completely.
Tonight it was Twenty One Pilots, Car Radio.
I feel my eyes well up as the words speak volumes louder than the actual music playing in my ears. I rest my forehead on the tops of my knees and breath.

“Fear will lose. Fear will lose. Fear will lose.” I repeat in a whisper tone to myself.

I’m taking deep breaths through my nose and letting them out of my mouth slowly, tears are dripping from my eyes. I want this to be over and I’m not sure if I’m talking about this moment or everything.
The song comes to an end and my finger twitches to the previous button, the song starts over. My arms tighten around myself and soon the buildup becomes too intense. I let go of my legs and let a scream out, the sound only lasts for a second as I place a pillow over my face to muffle myself.
I let out one more scream as tears run down my cheeks, my hands are shaking and I can hear my pulse.
I lay down on my back and pull the pillow off my face. Another deep breath in and out.
All my lights are off and it almost starts to seem peaceful staring into the dark. I can feel my heart slowing, I take another deep breath.

“The hard part is done, you’re safe and sound, don’t let these thoughts scare you, I’m here now.“ I wipe the tears from my face as the last word escapes my lips.

I’ve struggled with anxiety for years and my mom used to say that saying to me after every attack, every breakdown, every episode. I don’t think she even realized how much she has helped me, even since her passing.
I let out another deep breath as the song comes to an end for the second time, I let it play to the next Twenty One Pilots song and close my eyes. I don’t fall asleep easily, it’s not till about the fourth song that my mind finally shuts down.

The next morning is always a little hazy after a late night attack, I’ve become used to it though. The sun is barley peeking through my dark curtains, I throw my blanket off me and let the cool morning air hit my skin. I mumble and groan as I sit up on the edge of the bed.
Its Friday, I have my earliest class on Friday, I don’t know why I thought that was a bright idea.
I drag myself out of the bed completely and shuffle my feet under me into the bathroom. A quick rinse to my face with icy water, tying my hair in a high ponytail and brushing my teeth is all I do before grabbing my bag and heading down the stairs and into my car.
I toss my bag in the passenger seat and start up my old little Nissan. I turn the radio on and it’s playing Stressed Out, which I still don’t find myself getting sick of but I don’t listen to the radio very often.
I pull out of the parking lot and drive off to school, it’s just a few minutes down the street so I enjoy the few minutes alone.
People fill the courtyard as I pull up to the building, I grab my bag from the passenger seat and take a step onto campus. I glance up at the sky, its gray like always but it hasn’t rained yet.
I walk past the crowds of people, I give smiles to most hoping thats enough to steer clear of conversations, it works.

Economy Health, its even more boring than it sounds, and at 8am it’s deadly.
My major is business because, well I really don’t know what I want to major in. I was told business can almost be a general degree and that no matter where I decide to go it will look good, so thats where I am at. I take a seat in the middle of the room and take a pen and notebook out of my bag, I set my bag on the ground in between my feet. Other students start to take their seats, it is definitely not a full class. The professor comes in just a few minutes before class should start, he throws his briefcase on the metal framed desk at the front of the class.
The moment he starts to ramble on about stock markets I daze off, I usually can get a few key notes even from the most bland of lectures but due to my lack of sleep I’m not retaining much. I start to draw swirls and starts throughout the notebook page, it feels like time is ticking by slowly as my small doodles fill the page but once I look up to try and get an once of knowledge the professor is giving out the next weeks homework and wishing us a well weekend.
I yawn as I scribble down the assignment, I grab my bag from between my feet and head back outside.
Now I remember why I had picked such an early class for Friday, so I could have the rest of the day to do whatever. Although I am really not sure it was worth it.
I head back to my car, making the same smiles along the way. Another yawn comes from me as I take a seat in the drivers seat and put my bag in the passengers.
Once I pull up to my apartment I make a stop at the floor below me, a couple of knocks and Shay answers the door with a blanket wrapped around her.
She groans as I walk in and close the door behind me.

“Mornings are the worst.” Her voice is still rough from just waking up.

I plop down on the couch and sink into it, “Mhhm.” I close my eyes and I could easily fall right back to sleep.

Shay takes a seat next to me with a cup of coffee in her hand, we stay silent just enjoying the moments and I am especially enjoying the quiet moments.

I’ve known Shay since I was 13, so ten years now. We became close instantly, inseparable. She knows the deepest parts of me that no one else sees, as well as I know hers. We have built each other up and have let each other fall if needed.

She was the only one I would turn to when my mom passed away from cancer, I was 14. I had no on else, I had no idea what to do or where I was going to live.
My dad had committed suicide when I was just a baby, I didn’t really know any other family.
I was scared.
Shay and her family let me live with them temporarily, but  before I knew it they were requesting adoption papers. It was about a year before they got the approval but it was all worth the wait.
Shay and her family have provided me with everything I could of ever needed for life, including a literal best friend and sister. We both decided to stay in Seattle for college but we got separate apartments to just sort of grow on our own, but we are only one floor apart so we really don’t stay away for very long.

“Are you excited for tomorrow Alanis?” Shays voice makes my body jolt as I was falling back to sleep.

“Nervous.” I mumble.

“Come on, ya know I won’t plan anything too crazy. It’s your birthday, you should be celebrating all month!”

“I don’t trust you.” I let out a small laugh with my eyes still closed.

“Well, you’ll be happy you did tomorrow night!” It’s like I can hear the smile on her face.

Shay gets up and gets ready for her full day of classes, I stay asleep on the couch when she leaves.
When I wake back up and it’s near 1pm, I stretch my arms above my head as I sit up on the couch. Shay still has a few hours at school, I decide to head up to my floor and get some laundry done because I know Shay will want me to wear something special for tomorrow.
I turn on a small wireless speaker I have in my apartment and put my music on shuffle. I sort my clothes and start my first load of laundry. I have a choice of getting homework done or letting my mind melt on paper. I chose to let my mind melt, I reach under my pillow on my bed and pull out a black note book with the phrase “Sit In Silence” written on it. I have traced over my original letters so many times that it’s almost hard to make out the words.
This is where every thought and feeling is written, every up and down. Some pages are filled with words, others with poems and some are like a diary entry, it just depends on the day.
I pick up a pen on my way to the couch as I turn my music off, I sit with my legs criss crossed on the couch and place the note book on my thigh, a deep breath in and a deep breath out before my pen touches the page.

“The thoughts run in.
My sanity runs out.
I can’t make out the words they are writing down.
Heavy letters.
Loud voices.
I’m trying so hard to sort the noises.
This is what its like.
This is a peaceful night.
Welcome to the inside of my mind.
No one fits in.
And I surly won’t make it out alive.”

The page is finished of with meaningless doodles and the date.

I place the note book back under my pillow and head to the kitchen to make coffee and a grilled cheese.
My Friday is wasted away, Shay had homework to attend to and so did I.
My head rested on my pillow by midnight and no attack to wake me up, a birthday wish granted.

Im horrible at not creating a back story, so thats basically what part 1 is.
Feedback is always welcome.
I promise Josh will be introduced in the next chapter & I will try to update every weekend if my life allows.
Thanks, loves.


Day 18

Imagine Meeting Sherlock Holmes

Part 1

For My Followers




Blood, so much blood.

And then darkness.


“Sherlock can I ask why we are investigating this case? It’s not as exciting as the ones you usually go after,” John mutters as he flips through the case file. Sherlock is facing the wall and standing utterly still. “It’s clear cut, the father killed everyone in the family.”

“Yes but the daughter survived,” Sherlock remarks.

“But he thought she had died so there’s nothing special there,” John counters making Sherlock spin around and face him.

“He didn’t, he knew she was still alive. Tell me John what’s the motive for killing everyone except his daughter?” Sherlock demands and John frowns.

“I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! This isn’t just any middle aged man going crazy this is different. I have to solve it.”


Bright lights.

Repetitive beeping.

Bleach smell.

Aching soreness.


Opening your eyes you flinch at the bright lights before examine your surroundings.

You’re in a hospital that’s for sure.

You barely remember what happened.

Your parents were fighting upstairs. Johnny was crying in his crib.

And then gunshots. Before you could react your father was standing in your doorway holding a smoking gun.

And then nothing.

Sitting up slowly you push yourself back against the pillows. Your torso is throbbing. Looking down you see your stomach all wrapped up under the hospital gown. Your father shot you there.

“Miss?” the chipper voice makes you jolt in surprise. It’s a nurse standing in the doorway wearing a sympathetic smile. “I see you’ve awoke. Are you okay? Feeling any pain? Need anything?”

“No just water,” you rasp. The nurse cheerfully pours you a cup from the pitcher beside your bed that you hadn’t noticed. You take long gulps until your throws doesn’t feel so dry.

“Anything else honey?”

“No, which hospital is this? How did I get here? Also what happened? I don’t remember much,” you ramble and the nurse frowns.

“I better let the detectives talk to you,” she murmurs and bustles out before you can say anything else.

Three men quickly replace her. Two you recognize from the papers as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

“Hello Miss Morten I am Greg Lestrade I w-”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m Sherlock Holmes and I will be solving your case,” the brunette man interjects and sits down next to your bed. John rolls his eyes and Greg only huffs.

“What case? Where is my family? I saw my dad had a gun, did he kill them all?” you question. You fear the answer.

“Yes he did, my condolences. We need to ask you a few questions but they can wait if you don’t feel up to it,” Greg says and you smile graciously.

“Nonsense there is no time to waste. Now (Y/N) Morten tell me about that night,” Sherlock demands and you raise an eyebrow.

“I will only because I want to know why dad killed my family and I know you can figure it out. The night he went crazy mom and dad were arguing upstairs. I think they were fighting about a favor they did for a powerful man awhile ago-”

“What favor? What man?” John asks.

“I didn’t hear much but I did hear that this man has been having them care for something important to him. They were fighting because the man was angry. My mother did something to anger him and my father was worried the man was going to do something to us. Next thing I heard was a gunshot and my mother screaming.”

“Can you tell us what happened when your father came downstairs?” Greg prompts and you nod. For some reason you don’t feel so awful, maybe you’re still in shock.

“I got out of bed to go call the police but my dad was in my doorway. It was dark and for some reason he looked smaller to me. Before I could even scream he shot me. Things get blurry after that but I’m sure I heard him apologize to me. His voice sounded higher though.”

“So maybe your father didn’t do this? Of course! Another person did! I knew the gunshot your father had in his head wasn’t consistent with suicide,” Sherlock exclaims and jumps to his feet.

“I’m sorry he seems excited about the death of your family,” John murmurs to you.

“It’s okay, I’ve read about you two I get it,” you reply. “So Sherlock of my father didn’t kill my family who did?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he vows and then quickly breezes by. John follows after but Greg stays.

“I do need an official statement before I let you rest,” Greg grumbles and pulls out a notebook.

You give him his statement and then the nurse gives you more pain drugs which knock you right out.


Sherlock examined your whole family and found nothing out of the ordinary. He couldn’t track down this powerful man and he couldn’t find what the man asked your parents to do.

“Isn’t odd how (Y/N) looks so different from her family,” John muses absentmindedly. Sherlock’s eyes snap open and stare at John. “I mean they are all fair-haired, plump, large-nosed, short people but she is a dark-haired, thin, button-nosed, tall individual. They look nothing alike.”

Sherlock chuckles and John stares at him weirdly.


“Don’t you get it? The favor her parents were doing! The man asked them to adopt his child to keep her safe. That’s why she doesn’t look like them.”

“How do you know she isn’t biologically theirs? That still leaves the question of why her family was killed.”

“We can get the DNA proved shortly but we need to talk to (Y/N) more about what she heard.”


“You want to know how my parents treated me?” you snort. Sherlock however keeps a very serious expression. “My Mom and dad were kind and sweet.”

“So they were perfect parents?” Sherlock asks.

“Well no, no parents are perfect. They were pretty damn close though.”

“Has anything happened recently that would put their parenting skills to the test?” John rephrases.

“Well two weeks before the-incident my mom and I were in a car accident. She didn’t see someone coming and the side of the car was rammed. My window shattered and I was cut all over but other than that we were both fine.”

“Exactly,” Sherlock murmurs and rushes out. John nods at you before take his leave as well.

You shake your head at the detectives and turn your attention to a card that was left on your table while you slept.

It reads: ‘get well soon.’ At the bottom it’s signed JM.

“Wonder who that is,” you utter to yourself and set he card back.



Are you confused after 6x20? You’re not alone.
I think I have solved the entire show. Everything.

In this master theory post, I explain:

- who is Mary Drake?
- was CeCe lying in 6x10? To what extent?
- did CeCe know she is adopted or did she think that was her immediate real family?
- who killed Jessica?
- why was Jessica killed?
- who killed Charlotte?
- why was Charlotte killed?
- who is Bethany Young?
- what is Rollins up to?
- who is Uber A?

This took forever and a day to prepare. I came across so many plot holes when writing this that contradict me, but I worked a way around them ALL. I think this is a very consistent and possibly true theory. 

WARNING: it is VERY, VERY long. But it’s ALL relevant; answer after answer after answer.

Not going to waste anymore of your time. Please, ENJOY!

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estofitofi  asked:

May I ask why you don't like being called kitty? You don't have to explain if u don't want ( STOP BOTHERING KITTEN OTHERWISE I'LL FIGHT YOU)

(my mom named her kitty…..we were all girls…in memorial of my dead sister….i nicknamed myself kitten online….))

(now if your curious on what happened to the other sister))

((we talk and stuff, but she has her own family right now, her adopted mom and dad and little brother))



((just so you know, were fraternal twins))

13 reasons why you love your sims tag

I was tagged by @simmerpinky. Thanks for tagging me!

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to post 13 sims for this??? Well I don’t have that many sims that I love so here’s just the gang.

1. All of them relate to me somehow?? And I love that.

2. Pepper is just such a troll, she probably Rick Rolls all of her family, I love her so much.

3. Christina is me??? Like I’ll never be that pretty OR confident - but being a brat and thinking you’re better than everyone while loving memes and painting?? Yes pls.

4. Kayden has no idea what he wants to do with his life, he just wants a family, poor guy, same tho.

5. Chanel is my favorite mom that I’ve ever created?? She has the perfect gf, she loves her kids, she hates Bella Goth, she loves wine?? ADOPT ME PLS.

6. Karen is such a ~cool~ nerd. If someone insults her she ain’t gonna stay there awkwardly, she’d fight that mf lmaoo. Also she makes a shit ton of money, I want to be like her when I grow up.

7. Brooklyn is literally the mom of the squad (she is a mom lol). I’m her - I love food, I’m always sad for no reason, I never want to do anything that requires me risking my life. 

8. R O S I E  is everything I aspire to be LMAO. She dumps Alex’s ass bc nobody treats Rosie Stearns like shit, her best friend is called Ellie goddamnt, she has an A at school, she works hard, she loves her family, she’s angry for no reason, soon she is going to dump someone at the altar, she is just so savage I love it.

9. I love the Mays Family so much mainly bc their genes are perfect?? Like throughout the entire family tree, I haven’t used cas.fulleditmode ONCE. They’re BORN beautiful, give me those genes pls.

10.  I didn’t include Thomas in this picture  bc I didn’t want to spoil what he looks like as a teen, but he’s so sweet and innocent?? Most of my sims are problematic and he’s just there playing his piano having a nerd  boyfriend.

11. Chanel bought a botique for 100k and then the next day she sold it bc it was too much work, yes momma slay.

12. Christina is so positive all the time?? In my previous save, if you checked her stats, she’s been sad just TWICE. Pls.

13. Finally, I included Eliza’s kids, because they’re irrelevant, just like me and my life. Love you bb x

i tag @koffeecake, @elliesimmersimblr and @simplysims27

The Werecoyote and The Chimera Part 2 | Theo Raeken

part 1

pairings: theo raeken x reader

a/n: because it was requested six times, here’s what you’ve been waiting for.. part 3??

“Malia?” You said, Your voice cracking a little. They all looked at you with a confused look on their faces, Especially Malia.

“How do you know me?”

“I thought you were dead.” You said slightly shocked.

“Who are you?” Scott interfered.

“Y/N; Y/N Hale.”

“Hale?” Stiles asked.

“Yes, Hale.”

“How about we all go over to my house and get you cleaned up so you can tell us more about yourself.” Lydia suggested, Her arm still wrapped securely around your shoulder. You simply nodded in agreement as the rest of you started to walk back towards the cars.

“Wait but Y/N tell me first how you know who I am.” Malia stopped you as the rest of the pack turned their eyes to the two of you.

“I’m your twin sister.” You said looking into her eyes, Seeing as her eyes started welling up with tears.

“B-But I-I don’t have a twin sister.”

“That’s because your adoptive parents never told you.“

After showering and cleaning up Lydia gave you a fresh set of clothes and helped you get ready, After all you still needed to readjust to being human. When you were finally done you and Lydia went downstairs to the rest of the pack was waiting in the living room.

When you two came to sit down with everyone you could see Theos eyes lit up, Seeing you suddenly cleaned up gave Theo a chance to see how truly beautiful you are; Even if you were in only lounge clothes and tousled hair.

“So, If you’re okay with it; Can you tell us about yourself?” Scott started.

“Where do I start?” You asked quietly.

“Who are you?” Malia asked.

“Well I told you my name already, And obviously you know I’m your twin sister.” You started.

“How did you know about me? We’ve never even met.”

“My mom kept talking about you and showing pictures of you, I even had a shirt you wore as a newborn, That’s how I knew your scent.”

“But what happened to you? How come you ended up apart from each other?” Stiles asked.

“After our mom gave birth to us only Malia was chosen to be adopted, I guess no one justed wanted two little girls so Malia left with her new family while I stayed with out birth mother.”

“Our birth mother as in The Desert Wolf?” Malia asked.


“And why did you think I was dead?”

“Well, My mom talked about it, How she had her chance but you disappeared or something like that. I never really understood what happened but I remember a news report talking about it.”

“How did you turn into a coyote?” Theo asked.

“When I was little my mom kept training me so I could get stronger and once I was sixteen I reached most of my power potential; When she saw I was in my strongest stage she tried to take back her powers but something blocked her from doing so and I blacked out. She thought I was dead so she just left me there to die and the next thing I remember was waking up in a completely different body.”

“That’s just like what happened to me.” Malia said, Her face was flushed; As if all the blood was drained out of her.

“I was stuck in that body for almost two years until you guys turned me.” You said quietly.

“By the way, Theo right?” You asked.

“Yea.” He chuckled.

“How did you know I wasn’t a normal coyote?”

“I guess something about your scent was different, You kind of had the same scent as Malia and when I saw your eyes flashing I knew you weren’t just another coyote.”

“I never got a chance to thank you.” You smiled softly as you got up to give him a small hug, He held you softly in his embrace shortly before pulling away.

“Thank you all, Really. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it wasn’t for you.” You smiled softly at them as they mimicked it back at you.

“And Malia;” You said walking up to her.

“Can I finally hug my sister?”

A tear escaped down her cheek before she pulled you into a tight hug, Holding you close as if she were to let go you would disappear. You held her tightly, The lost sister you had hoped to meet for so long was finally right here with you. When you two pulled away both of you were chucking slightly as you wiped away the tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“Y/N;” Lydia said catching your attention.


“Do you have any family?” She asked softly.

“No not really..” You said softly as your look went down at your hands that were fumbling with your fingers.

“Of course you do.” Scott interrupted as you furrowed your brows in confusion at him.

“You have us.” He said smiling.

“We’ll be your family from now on.” Kira said smiling.

“And you could stay with me and my dad.” Malia said smiling at you.


“Of course.”

“But can I ask you guys something?” You asked.

“Yea sure.” Stiles said.

Does someone know what green eyes mean?

I’m back. You have no idea–my own sister is treating me like I did something wrong. I am not supposed to have feelings–much less this book. I can’t see my father without a chaperone. If I had the money, I’d take my Dad to Scotland. Not that they think that. But my sister knew what was wrong with my father before me and “wife trumps daughters” I was told. No, first wife does. And she died before Dad married her mother and they adopted me. Family shouldn’t have boundaries. Not if there’s love there. She even calls our stepmother “Mother”. I wouldn’t mind it but our mom would have a coronary if she were alive. Worst part of it? Our late mother is her biological mother. I was adopted and wouldn’t think of calling another woman mother–not even my biological. My mother is the one that raised me. I wouldn’t call another man “Father”–lucky for me, no one knows who my biological father is (not even my birth mother). Doesn’t mean I don’t like the new “mom”. But I will always honor the one that gave me a life more than one that had no hand in raising me.

Originally posted by maryxglz

So, I sent out a warning–rather more of a “be ready” signal. I’m going to push forward on what the world seems to want–even the Mythopoeic Society. April 28th is still on the books. It’s not about money or fame or anything. It’s always been about trying to get my family to know I exist and be proud of me. But I can’t seem to get that. I now know that was more impossible than writing a book that now has a real chance of getting seen by the Tolkien Estate since his son opened up the possibility of a new Middle Earth novel. So anyone can do what I’ve done. I will say, it requires a lot of reading, but that door was opened now. I may be the first one with something “done”, but I doubt I’m the only one out there. I am not worried about that. Thranduil would have never been the first thought to do–much less what I will have to do with his father Oropher in the next book as in 12 volumes of Middle Earth, they are barely in there. Oropher is in one. It was a challenge I accepted because I wasn’t going anywhere waiting for the other thing. Now, I’m in a place where an entire country is waiting for Thranduil–celebrities, bookstores, comic books, studios–even Netflix.

I wanted this to be for family. Now, I know my only family is here and around the world. I was abandoned as a child and my mom and dad were about to adopt another child and they chose me. I was lucky (and sometimes I feel guilty for that) but with one parent gone and another one slowly diminishing (though he’s fine now, physically–he’s mind is still there somewhat; he was glad Lee Pace put on pants finally).

But it’s now about survival more than anything. My other story regained momentum when I was inspired by Loki and Thranduil. Though I was working on it long before I even started college, it’s time to unleash more fantasy onto the world after Thranduil. For the moment, @tkwrtrilogy, it’s time to rock and roll.

Open adoption vs Closed Adoption

I see so many people even adoptive parents supportive of closed adoption. Reasons? The child needs to move on, not be confused, bond to their adoptive parents, wait until 18, be grateful, birth family deserves privacy.

Well I have a closed adoption. I did contact my birth mom once almost two years ago. It was extremely awkward. Painful. Weird. My adoption was open until I was 5. I don’t really remember much. The woman I saw a few times a year who brought me gifts was a “family friend”. I called her by her first name. She hugged me and cried when she saw me. Suddenly I didn’t see her anymore. My parents closed my adoption. Said I would be confused by it all. I found out years later that family friend was my birth mom.

Closed adoption is extremely painful. I started getting depressed around 14. Then started cutting myself. I started really wondering about my birth family at 12 years old. Then on my 14th birthday I was really sad. I wonder about the woman who birth me. Did she think about me on this day? What was it like giving birth to me? What was she doing now? Of course I asked my parents about my birth family. Their answers were always the same. My birthmom chose life for me and made an adoption plan. “She placed you because she loved you”. “You can find her and talk to your birth family at 18”. I do have pictures when I was younger and cards. That’s about it. But it’s not enough. I don’t want to hear why my birth mom placed me from my adoptive parents. I want to hear it from my birth mom. I want to know the full story. I want to know from her why she gave me up. I want to know how she met my birth father. Was she in love with him? Does she still contact him? What was my birth parents childhoods like? What about my birth siblings? Do they know about me? Does my birth family think about me? Do they know about me?

Adoptive parents you don’t have the answers to your child’s questions. You can’t pretend you do. You can’t pretend you gave birth to them and you share a biological bond. You can’t pretend you’re the only parents. You’re not. It would’ve been so much easier to at least have some sort of contact with my birth family. To know they’re thinking about me and love me. There’s phone calls, Skype, social media, letters. Even if you lie or don’t want us to search we will find our biological families if we want to. You can’t keep them from us. Open adoption would’ve been much better than a closed one. I constantly think about my birth family. I’m worried they don’t know about me or won’t accept me. I’m worried they might not love me. Please try to keep contact. Collect any information you can. Collect cards, pictures, videos. Save it. It’s extremely helpful to see these things. My parents didn’t make any effort. They just closed my adoption. Completely cut my birth mom off. I still hate them for this.

cuadradito  asked:

red and blue!

1. It’s @powderbleu

2. We met the summer before college at optional orientation because she and I were the only ones underdressed, I told her I liked her Superman shirt and thats how I adopted that introvert. We ended up on the same floor in the dorms and live about 15 mins away irl.

3. She likes star trek, macaroni and cheese, feminism, photography and cats among other things I assume

4. She needs to sleep on the left side of the bed or else I will be pushed off

5. She successfully defended her psych thesis today :’’’’)

1. The only mixed race family on my mom’s side–ever! 

2. Got 3 siblings, all younger. one estranged, 2 are my best buddies.

3. Mom has a STEM degree, dad works in media television

4. I have never been to Colombia, but I am a citizen unlike my siblings, and will get to go for the first time real soon.

5. my great aunt is a nun

6. We have lived in the same house my whole life

7. my dad, mom and I all used to smoke but never simultaneously

8. we all love bob’s burgers and have attempted to recreate a few of the burgers to no success

9. My dad and i did not get along until i went to college

Not Blood of My Blood

Henry finds out he’s adopted.

Regina isn’t called to Henry’s school often. In fact, she can’t remember the last time she had answered her office phone to hear that her son had fallen on the playground, or that he had forgotten his lunch at home, and whether that was because Henry is older now, already 10 years old, and is less clumsy and forgetful, or if his teacher would rather not risk upsetting the mayor, Regina doesn’t know.

So when her phone rings at 1:08 on a Thursday afternoon, Regina is surprised to hear Ms. Blanchard’s voice on the other end, asking her to come to the school, that something had happened with Henry.

There are few times that Regina had wished for her magic through the past 28 years, and this was certainly one of them. She’d rather poof to her son’s side, to see how badly he was hurt in an instant, but she is stuck grabbing her purse and running to her car, to speed the whole way to the school until she can rush inside the building.

Ms. Blanchard is waiting outside the classroom door for her, arms crossed over her chest and sad eyes staring intently at the floor until she hears the clicking of Regina’s heels echoing down the hall.

Regina feels a bubble of anger at the sight of the teacher. Henry had only been in her class a few weeks, and already he was getting hurt. She had been reluctant to allow Henry to enter her class, but of course, why would she ever want her son to be taught by Snow White, of all people? She has ruined Regina’s life at every turn; surely no good would come out of her interacting with Henry on a daily basis.

But Henry had insisted that he wanted Ms. Blanchard as a teacher, that she was the best in the whole school, that she told better stories than all the other teachers (not as good as his mom’s, though), and she couldn’t deny her son, no matter how badly her gut told her to.

But look where it got them. Best teacher, my ass, she thought.

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