#family history blog

[epicstoriestime]

A Grandfather I Never Knew

James Elwood Burchfield Jr. passed away on April 30, 2021, at the age of 93. He lived a long life, filled with stories I’ll never get to hear firsthand, but it’s clear he made an impact on the world around him. He served in the Navy during World War II, retired from Wheeling Pittsburgh Steel, and was a proud Mason. Born in Steubenville, Ohio, in 1927, he saw decades of history unfold, and I can…

[twistingtreeancestry]

Acadian Genealogy Research | My Biggest Regret

Image by www.epictop10.com. The website is no longer functional and is up for sale. I cannot find another site for this creator. Found on Flicker.com

— — — — — — — — —

I was born and raised Cajun in Southwest Louisiana with my paternal family, all Cajuns and Acadians as far back as I've been able to trace to that period. My paternal grandmother's side was Catholic while my paternal grandfather's side was Baptist.

At some point in my youth, I was given my grandfather's family bible, which had his lineage back to France written on the front inner flap of the cover.

The family bible was roughly 13" tall by 8" wide with a depth of about 1 ½". It had a cream-white background and the title "Holy Bible" was embossed with a shimmery dark golden ink or paint. The title was stylized in large font in the upper center right of the front cover with the "o" in "Holy" aligning over the "B" in "Bible".

Since my family unit was constantly being moved around at the time, most of my possessions lived in boxes that stayed behind at relatives' houses. The family bible was among those possessions, and eventually, the contents of these boxes were largely forgotten.

A few years after my grandparents died, I was finally in a place to receive my boxes. When I rediscovered the family bible, I didn't feel like I should be the steward of it as I wasn't Christian, wouldn't be having kids, and didn't care about genealogy at the time.

Instead, I decided it should go to a responsible family member who would be able to enjoy it and continue to pass it down. Sadly, no one accepted it for a variety of valid reasons. My life then hit some gnarly turbulence and I was again constantly on the move.

I began noticing that with each move, the family bible was becoming more damaged because I could no longer protect it properly. I had since gone no contact with all of my family, and reaching back out was not an option.

A couple months after noticing the accruing damage, I stopped in a random town to donate even more of my belongings to a Goodwill shop. I accidentally gave them a box with my necessities in it, including the family bible. Thankfully, I quickly realized the error and was able to get the box back.

When they saw the tape sealing the box had been cut open, the volunteers suggested I go through the contents to ensure nothing was missing. It had merely been rifled through, likely to take inventory.

The family bible was visible, and one of the volunteers asked about it. I told them a tl;dr version of my experience with it and the fears I had over it being destroyed. The volunteer went over the option of donating it and assured me that it was highly likely to find a good home in that town. I agreed to leave it in their hands and continued on my way.

After not being able to get it out of my head for a few days, I decided to call the Goodwill store to inquire if they still had the family bible. I learned that it had just finished processing the day before and was bought after only 4ish hours of being put out on the sales floor. I've since kicked myself plenty of times, especially once I fell into genealogy.

I no longer remember the ink-etched names of my forebears. I don't even remember the state I was in (though I have a list of likely states*), let alone the city.

I often wonder what ever became of the family bible. I harbor no musings that I will ever again have possession of it, but I hope that it's been cared for and will one day reunite with my grandfather's descendants.

It is indubitably not only the biggest regret I have regarding my Acadian genealogy research but also considering the genealogy research of other Cajuns and Acadians who might have benefitted from such a primary source of lineage.

* — Possible states: Arkansas, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Utah, Wyoming — Possible time frame: ~2010s

[sharonmunroe09]

Family History Blog

Family History Blog Sharon Munroe's story is an autobiographical account of a pragmatic Australian family bestowed with handsome good looks and exceptional intelligence; we follow their journey spanning over a century going from affluence to bankruptcy, failure to success, and the turbulent inbetweens. Read the blog.

[wh0-is-lily]

Anjelica Huston (Christian Dior ad, 1973) Marie Claire Magazine Photograph by Bob Richardson

[sforzesco]

Gannicus & Amicus (& Lentulus lmao rest in pieces) during the gladiator jailbreak in Capua, 73 BCE :)

[blackstarlineage]

Black Parenting from a Garveyite Perspective: Raising a Physically, Mentally, and Economically Empowered Generation

From a Garveyite perspective, parenting is not just about raising children—it is about nation-building. Marcus Garvey believed that the survival and liberation of Black people depended on how the next generation was trained, educated, and prepared for self-reliance. This means that Black parents have a sacred duty to raise strong, disciplined, self-sufficient, and Pan-African-minded children who can continue the fight for global Black empowerment.

However, today, many Black families face challenges caused by centuries of systemic oppression, miseducation, and economic exploitation, making it difficult to pass down Garvey’s principles. The failure to properly prepare Black children for independence has led to cycles of dependency, confusion, and weakness that prevent true liberation.

This analysis will explore:

The role of physical discipline and structure in Garveyite parenting.

The importance of instilling self-reliance and economic independence in Black children.

Why Black parents must raise their children with an African-centered identity.

How modern influences (media, school systems, and Western ideologies) weaken Black parenting.

The Garveyite solution to rebuilding Black family structures for true empowerment.

1. The Role of Physical Discipline and Structure in Garveyite Parenting

Discipline, structure, and responsibility are essential in Garveyite parenting. A weak and undisciplined generation cannot lead a revolution, which is why Garvey believed in raising strong-willed, courageous, and self-controlled Black children.

A. Black Children Must Be Raised for Leadership, Not Servitude

The Western world conditions Black children to be obedient workers, not self-sufficient leaders.

Black parents must train their children to think critically, take responsibility, and reject laziness and dependency.

This requires strong parental guidance, discipline, and clear expectations from a young age.

Example: Garvey’s own mother, Sarah Jane Richards, raised him with strict discipline and a sense of duty, shaping him into a leader.

B. The Decline of Strong Parenting and the Rise of Western “Softness”

Many Black parents have adopted European parenting styles that promote excessive leniency, entitlement, and emotional weakness.

Modern Western culture discourages physical discipline, labelling it as “abuse,” while white society continues to use institutional discipline (prisons, policing, military training) to control Black populations.

Without strong discipline at home, Black children grow up unprepared for the real world and fall into criminal, economic, or social traps designed by white supremacy.

Example: Studies show that Black boys raised without firm discipline and strong father figures are more likely to end up in the prison system, dead, or economically disadvantaged.

Key Takeaway: Garveyite parenting requires structure, discipline, and responsibility—raising children to be leaders, not victims.

2. Teaching Black Children Self-Reliance and Economic Independence

Garveyism teaches that Black people must own and control their own wealth, yet many Black families fail to pass down economic education to their children.

A. Black Parents Must Teach Economic Survival Early

Most Black children are raised to become workers for white-owned businesses instead of entrepreneurs and investors.

Garveyite parenting requires that children learn financial literacy, business skills, and self-reliance from an early age.

Black parents must reject the culture of excessive consumerism (spending on designer brands, entertainment, and materialism) and teach wealth-building strategies.

Example: The Jewish, Chinese, and Indian communities prioritize economic education and family wealth-building, while Black communities often focus on short-term spending rather than long-term ownership.

B. The Lack of Black-Owned Institutions and the Generational Wealth Gap

Most Black children grow up without seeing Black-owned banks, businesses, or institutions, making them mentally conditioned to depend on white-owned systems.

Black parents must expose their children to successful Black entrepreneurs, investors, and leaders who prove that self-reliance is possible.

Example: Marcus Garvey built the Negro Factories Corporation and Black Star Line to show Black people they could own and operate their own industries—a lesson that must be passed down.

Key Takeaway: Black parents must prepare their children to be job creators, not job seekers. Economic independence starts at home.

3. Raising Children with an African-Centered Identity

Western education systems indoctrinate Black children to see themselves as inferior, which is why Garveyism demands that Black parents take control of their children’s cultural education.

A. The Importance of Teaching African History and Pride

Many Black children do not know their history beyond slavery because schools deliberately erase African civilizations, heroes, and contributions.

Black parents must counteract this by educating their children about African greatness, Pan-Africanism, and revolutionary Black leaders.

A child who knows their roots can not be mentally enslaved.

Example: Garvey established the Negro World newspaper and UNIA youth programs to educate Black children about their heritage and global struggle.

B. Rejecting European Beauty Standards and Cultural Conditioning

Many Black parents fail to teach their children to love their natural African features, leading to self-hate and colorism.

The media bombards Black youth with white beauty standards, making them reject their natural skin, hair, and African identity.

Black parents must actively reinforce self-love, African beauty, and pride in Blackness from childhood.

Example: The Natural Hair Movement and African fashion revival are examples of Black parents pushing back against European beauty norms.

Key Takeaway: If Black children do not know their history and identity, they will forever be slaves to Western definitions of success and beauty.

4. The Threat of Media and Western Education on Black Parenting

Garvey understood that Black children’s minds are being shaped by white-controlled institutions, including:

Schools that teach false history and discourage Black children from embracing their own culture.

Media that promotes negative stereotypes of Black people, leading to internalized self-hate and destructive behavior.

Social media and entertainment that push hyper-consumerism, promiscuity, violence, and superficial values.

Example: Many Black parents allow hip-hop, Hollywood, and white-washed education systems to raise their children instead of teaching them African-centered values at home.

Key Takeaway: Black parents must control the messages their children receive, or white supremacy will do it for them.

5. The Garveyite Solution to Black Parenting and Nation-Building

To reverse the decline of strong Black parenting, Garveyism provides the following solutions:

Establish Black homeschooling networks – Remove Black children from white-controlled education and teach them the truth.

Strengthen Black family structures – Promote stable Black marriages, fatherhood, and community-based child-rearing.

Teach economic empowerment from childhood – Give children real financial education, entrepreneurship skills, and wealth-building knowledge.

Reject Western culture’s negative influences – Control media exposure, reinforce African values, and protect Black children from harmful ideologies.

Raise Black children to be Pan-African revolutionaries – Train them to fight for Black self-determination, just as Garvey’s UNIA trained youth in leadership.

Final Takeaway: Garveyite parenting is about building warriors, not weaklings. If Black parents do not prepare their children for power, white supremacy will prepare them for failure.

Conclusion: Parenting is Nation-Building

Marcus Garvey’s vision of a strong, united Black nation depends on how Black parents raise their children. Without disciplined, self-reliant, and Pan-African-minded youth, Black people will remain at the mercy of white oppression.

The future of Black power begins at home.

As Garvey said:

"The man who is not able to develop and use his mind is bound to be the slave of the other man who uses his mind."

The time to reclaim Black parenting as a revolutionary act is NOW.

[thepaintedroom]

William Orpen (British/Irish, 1878–1931) • A Bloomsbury Family • 1907

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

3 - Every night, I'm dancing with your ghost. Never got the chance. To say a last goodbye.

pairing: john f. kennedy/oc (princess anna) word count: 3, 354 summary: the princess meets two small, but darling royals in their own right, with the little prince becoming quite interested in her very quickly. new paths are forged and a friendship is formed. warnings: jack and other real people mentioned will be mildly out of character (this is purely on my interpertation of these historical people) at times, grammar errors, grief, but nothing much. a lighter part for once.

22nd July 1965

Her plane touched down on the airfield in Cape Cod. It was a smaller, chartered plane, nothing lavish, since no one really wanted the press to swarm the place.

Jack was standing with Caroline and John (who had insisted on going along with him to meet the princess that would their houseguest for a few days). He had decided to wear a light suit not wanting to look too casual, even if no cameras were present or watching. After all, his guest was royalty and he didn't want to look sloppy around her.

The white plane door opened, and there she was at the top of the stairs leading up to the plane. Dressed in a blue long-sleeve, and camel colored trousers, sunglasses perched on her hair, she appeared almost ordinary. Well, Harper's Bazaar cover 'ordinary', but still, not like…well a princess.

He heard John whisper to Caroline. "Are you sure she's a princess? She doesn't have a crown."

Jack chuckled, keeping his eyes on the princess.

Caroline leaned down to her brother and said. "Princesses don't wear crowns everywhere, John."

In a few moments, she was down the steps and towards the plane hangar, where two cars were waiting with Jack, his children and the Secret Service. Following after her was her private secretary…Jack forgot his name, but he saw how close he kept to the princess. Then came two guards of her own, at both her sides, with her private secretary two steps behind her.

So much for low-key, thought Jack.

Then he saw that learned smile of hers, the one he remembered from that night, flashing at him as she neared.

He reached out his hand diplomatically, and she shook it (although it did feel a bit awkward to do so).

Caroline followed, doing a little curtsy and looking shyly up at the princess. "Your Highness."

"You must be Caroline, pleasure to meet you." A small smile passed Caroline's face. "And you're John?"

"Hello. Where's your crown?" John, in earnest asked, unfiltered as children were.

Her Highness let out a laugh, and that quickly diffused any initial tension, because Jack couldn't help but join her, Caroline scowling at her brother (she had just moments ago explained why).

"Back in Denmark, I travel lightly." Her Highness answered. "But thank you for asking, no one rarely asks about my crowns."

The little boy looked very pleased at the praise and nodded, grasping at the princess' hand as she kneeled down to shake his hand too. It was quite a sweet scene to witness.

The princess' entourage was piled into the second car, and Her Highness rode with Jack and his children. Sitting by the window with Jack's children between them, John looked up at the blonde woman curiously, a thousand and one questions swirling in that petite head of his. Jack, who usually stared out the window during car rides when he wasn't driving, found himself observing his son's perplexed look. Caroline leaned herself against her father, as she did often.

"Do you have a castle?" John ventured, hazel brown eyes searching for answers as the princess' grey-blue eyes came away from the window and met his.

"Not a castle exactly. My parents have a few palaces and a hunting lodge. I stay with them."

"So, you don't have your own castle?"

"No, I don't." She shook her head.

"So, you don't have home?"

"Well, home is where my books are." That made Jack smile, while John kept steady in his interrogation. "And I travel a lot, so I don't really have a need for a permanent home, yet. Sort of nomadic, even with a tiara resting on my head every now and then."

"No-nomadik-…gnome?" The four year old tried to spell the new word, his hazel eyes curiously gazing at her.

"Oh, nomadic, it's…um. Well, it's a person who travels a lot or is always moving." Her highness tried to explain. "Someone who doesn't stay in one place for too long."

John almost seemed to grasp it, but he was still a toddler so he didn't fully understand. Yet, he wanted to show that he was a smart boy so he nodded, feigning knowingness.

The Princess smiled at him, and the boy was satisfied.

 

Anna was still slightly befuddled even as she arrived in America, and met President Kennedy's children (who were very charming and polite, she thought), and drove in the same car as them. What was the deeper purpose of her being there? She couldn't just accept that it was some sort of gesture for international friendship, because she saw no cameras or journalists on her arrival. And now she had met his children. AND would be staying at his cottage near his family…what was it called…compound?

Nonetheless, she felt odd about this, and she knew she could've said "no" and that would've been that. But her curiosity outweighed any strange feelings she held.

Now, she was saw the sea.

Her things were at the president's house, her guards securing the area with the help of the American Secret Service, who would be looking after her.

Aase, too, was somewhere, probably bossing around some confused poor maid, who had to hear his broken English (Aase was man of many talents, but somehow had slept through learning English properly). He had insisted that he come along, since she had never travelled on her own ever since he began his service as her private secretary. He was kind of like her…guard dog, gatekeeper. And greatest protector, probably, next to her father. And an older brother, in many ways.

It was good, in truth that she had one person who she could talk to, who she knew. Because she saw quite quickly that the Kennedys were a different breed of human. It wasn't even ten minutes when she had settled into her guest room, when one of the president's siblings (Eunice or was it Patricia? One name or the other), bowed her dark head in and after polite introductions invited her to a game of touch football. Touch football? Strange name for a game. And she declined, letting down the older woman easily. She wasn't exactly an avid sportswoman, sure she could play tennis adequately and swim very well. But she wasn't crazy about it or very competitive.

From the president's cottage she couldn't really see the water, but she had made her way to what was called the big house, where she did see a game of football being played. But no one noticed her walk by (which she did like, that veil of brief invisibility), and down to the water, one her guard's (Mika Dahl) a few paces behind her.

Slipping off her sandals, she dipped her toes into the water which was a little cool, but refreshing. Mika laid down his suit's jacket down onto the sand so she could sit on it, her feet touching the edge of the water. She closed her eyes and took in her surroundings. The summery ocean breeze, seagulls somewhere, distant shouts for proper "plays" whatever that meant, Mika shuffling in the sand standing not too far behind her. The waves subtly crashing against the coastline. Sand grains getting stuck between her toes. The salty smell of the air, its freshness. Her hair picking up in the wind and brushing against her skin.

Exhaling, Anna's eyes flickered open, looking out into the horizon. She liked Hyannis Port, or at least she thought she would. Her legs were pulled towards her chest, arms resting over her knees as she just sat there. Still taking it all in. "Mika, jeg tror, jeg kan lide dette sted." (Mika, I think I like this place). The guard's silence was normal, he knew when she wanted to be talked back to.

She sat there for a while.

She heard the president's voice, her reverie and daydreaming ended.

"So, this is where you went to, your highness? Eunice told me you weren't interested in a game." He was dressed in a more relaxed fashion. Better than that suit he'd worn at the hangar. Now wearing a blue polo shirt and beige shorts. His hair twisted and messy by the wind and from the game. Nothing like the polished man on glossy magazine covers or refined newspaper pages or even when they first met.

"I…I didn't know there would be activities today. I would've packed more sportier clothes." She tried to find an excuse that wouldn't directly give away her disinterest in any form of football.

"You could've said that." Her ears tried to parse if there was disappointment in his tone or not. Social cues could be a bit of mystery to her sometimes. But that tone was gone in the next sentence. "Have you settled in, your highness?"

He dropped down next to her on the sand, though not as gracefully, and a bit more careful with his movements.

"Yes, I am settled."

A half-smile crossed his face, that held many creases joined by the smile lines she noted. "Good. Your, uh, private secretary, was looking for you. And well," He scratched the back of his neck. "so was I."

Anna raised a brow at that. "Well, here I am, Mr. President."

"You don't have to call me that when no one is looking." That sounded like a line, and she saw that he cringed when he had said it. "I…I didn't mean it like that, your highness. It's just…"

She scoffed, maybe a bit too sharply. Not at all ladylike. She looked off at the water, it glistened in the sunlight that was slowly beginning to set over the horizon.

"Wha-what was that for?"

"Why am I here? Are you…" She really didn't want to ask, but if she was going to enjoy her time, she needed it out of the way. "Are you trying to…to proposition me?"

And the appalled look on his face, and the faint red tint on his cheeks gave her the answer before he regained his voice. With an obvious faux cough he said. "No, no-no. I…"

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Oh, Gud." Anna felt her own face change its color. "Jeg kvajede mig." (I fucked up) She muttered under her breath, as she averted her eyes.

"Come again?"

"I…I misspoke." She pushed her hair out of her face at a gust of wind. "I…"

"No, you're right to be confused…I…in your shoes who wouldn't be." He started, clearing his throat. "And I should be more upfront with why I asked you here."

Anna looked at him, showing that she was listening.

"I don't have many people who I've talked about…my wife…because- it doesn't matter why. But meeting you, you brought something out of me. And I thought we understood each others…" He knew the right word, but wasn't sure he could just say it.

"Pain and suffering?" She offered, and the president nodded.

"Pain. My…my family and friends have…moved on from losing her. They don't seem…stuck."

"And you are?"

Again, he moved his head, bowing it slightly looking at the sand as his fingers traced patterns on it. "But you, maybe because you are a stranger, didn't stop me, and even related to being stuck."

"I must tell you, it wasn't normal for me to talk about Micheal, either. I can't…most of the time."

"Neither can I, about my wife. But I think…it did some good, remembering, with you."

"Even if you don't know anything about me? Aside from what you've found out by now and of my fiancé."

"I want…this might sound strange - but I would like to know you. No, not like that. As friends."

"Friends?"

"Someone outside of our worlds. We could…confide in each other. About our…pain." It was an interesting and very…one might say unique idea.

"I'm a Crown Princess and you're a president, the…optics are…well…" She gestured vaguely.

"Oh, my brother's already given me an earful, don't you start, too." He tried to laugh it off.

"But it's true." She couldn't help joining his laughter with a soft chuckle. "Everyone will think something."

"You haven't rejected my idea, yet." He pointed out.

"Because I can't find the right words, yet." She tapped her chin, playfully showing she was thinking. "We would be each others confidantes, right?"

He nodded. Being vulnerable with him, she had done that all those months ago. It was strange that they could bring out dark parts of their lives out and into words.

But she also remembered the relief she had felt to be able to talk about something she kept so close to her heart, and knowing that her family though supportive had moved on with their lives (her younger sisters in colleges, and one, Agnes, two years Anna's junior, married and with a baby on the way), while she seemed to, like the president said, stuck like he was.

That one night on Valentine's Day had been refreshing, to bleed with someone who also had an open wound.

"Okay. Lad os prøve det her." (Okay. Uh... Let's try this.) She slipped into Danish and blushed when he noticed his confused expression.

"Can I hear the last part again?"

"I said that we can try this friendship. I've never been friends with a president before."

"I've never been friends with a princess before. We're both learning something new."

This made them both smile, slightly in their equally emotionally restrained way, both not used to talking about their feelings and having the conversation they just had.

"So, there is still a sailing race? That wasn't some ruse to get me to come here across an ocean to become your friend?"

"Oh, that wasn't a ruse. And we…my family, have sailed in it over the years. It was an earnest invite."

"All right…good." She nodded and looked at the sea, the sun nearing the horizon line. A thought bloomed in her head."Do you sometimes feel like a part of your soul comes alive when you breathe in salty air?"

With that, something was awakened in them, and their conversation found sound passage and they talked well after the sun had set. Only the calls to dinner brought them away from the beach.

 

After dinner at the Big House, Jack saw Anna walk over to his father, Joe, after debilitating strokes confined to a wheelchair and his words to his mind, sitting on the white wood porch. The only things Joe could say were “No” or louder and in quicker succession “No, no”. He’d been given a chalkboard so when he was able to write, he could say what his voice failed him to.

Now, Jack witnessed how gently Anna kneeled next to the man, who was a ghost of his former self, and talk with the man, not looking for replies. But he saw how his father lit up slightly at her attention and didn’t even bristle at her attentiveness. She was admittedly a good looking woman, and his father was still at his core himself, and didn’t dislike having a woman like her near.

Caroline tugged at Jack’s hand. “Daddy, can you tell me a bedtime story?” She yawned softly and Jack nodded.

“Of course, Buttons. Let’s go get you and your brother to bed.”

Caroline and John in bed, Jack retired to the porch of his own cottage, cigar smoking between his fingers. He looked towards the Big House. He went over the day in his head, and found some good things and ignored anything bad. The door to the porch from inside the house creaked open and the padding of feet made his head turn. Her Highness, Anna. She had a cardigan now over her day clothes. It did get colder even in the summer evenings, especially by the sea. She had her hands wrapped around her body as she came to stand next to him. In silence they stood for longer than either imagined.

Eventually, Jack said “Good night, Princess”, put out his cigar and went to return inside. He stopped at the door, body hallway in, but turned his head and looked at her. The moon shined on her again, and her back was to him. His mouth opened, to say something more, but nothing came out. He shook his head and left her alone.

 

Anna was lying in bed, unable to sleep. Not strange for her, since she often found herself wide awake when she should’ve counted sheep and fallen asleep. The lights were off and the curtains were drawn with one window slightly open, so she’d have fresh air. But nothing took her off to dreamland. She’d brought along books to read, that was her cure most nights even if she more often then not fell asleep later since she would become immersed in her reading. But the books weren’t helping. Her mind was alive and only a pill might quiet it. Aase didn’t like that she took pills, even if he knew she struggled.

She sat up when she heard a soft knock on the door of her bedroom. Her brows knitted together. It certainly wasn’t Aase, his knock was very formal, and he would address her exactly five seconds after the first knock. She wasn’t sure how the President knocked, but this wasn’t an adults knock either way.

“Who is it?” She called out and threw her feet over the side of the bed and out from under the covers. She had on a long silken nighty and her hair was in a braid. Her hand touched the doorknob after no answer came, and she pulled the door open. Casting her eyes downward, she saw the First Son was at her door. “Oh, hello.”

“There’s a monster under my bed.” The little boy choked out as he twisted his fingers, clad in light blue pjs and a little robe. He stared up at her with tears barely restrained in his eyes.

Why had he come to her? His father was surely in a nearby bedroom, or a nurse was somewhere in the house. Anna kneeled down to his height. “Did you ask your father for help?”

“Daddy’s with Caroline. She’s crying again.” The small boy said before grabbing onto Anna like a koala. “The monster’s so scary. Please, tell it to go away.”

“You poor thing.” Anna said. Surprised at the embrace brought from the boy, she gathered her bearings quickly. Seeing as how the First Son didn’t let go of her, she picked him up. “All right, let’s go see about this creature.”

“Thank…thank you.” He whispered into the crook of her neck.

He whispered into her ear where his bedroom was, and when they entered he pointed to his bed before cowering into her arms again.

“Hey, I’ll check out this creature and everything will be fine.” She soothed the boy, rubbing his back and carefully set him down on the carpeted floor and crouched down to look under the bed. Like she had expected nothing. Well, there was a mound of…clothes, which she pulled out. “No monster, see. It was just a jumper and socks.”

A smile broke out on the boy’s features, like sunbeams. “You got it. Thank you, thank you.” He ran back to her and hugged her, this time not as startled by him and easily lifted him into bed and tucking him in.

She wasn’t usually at ease with children, turning stiff and tongue-tied. But she had managed to calm and comfort the First Son quite well. Soon enough the boy was snoozing away. She folded up the articles that had been the monster under his bed and set them down on a stool.

Closing the door behind her, she returned to her bedroom and falling onto her bed. Her brain had filled with more questions, but most too private to voice. With that, she managed to quiet her mind just enough to have her eyes close and drift off.

///

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

[twistingtreeancestry]

Jamey Johnson - In Color (Official Video)

[gennsoup]

Child, when do you think is the time to love somebody the most? When they done good and made things easy for everybody? Well then, you ain't through learning--because that ain't the time at all. It's when he's at his lowest and can't believe in hisself 'cause the world done whipped him so! When you starts measuring somebody, measure him right, child, measure him right. Make sure you done take into account what hills and valleys he come through before he got to wherever he is.

Lorraine Hansberry, A Raisin in the Sun

[efverse]

so. heres the deal. IF this victini fixation lasts for the entire month of december, minimum...i will make a separate side blog for it. if it fizzles out before the new year. then i will just keep it all here...

[jfkjrarchive]

John in the White House Recording studio

9 October 1963

[bl-bam-beyond]

A NEW BL MOVIE from TAIWAN

Title: A Balloon's Landing

Release May 10, 2024 according to MDL but may not have an international release.

It stars Terrence Lau (a Hong Kong Actor) and Fandy Fan (BL LOVERS WILL REMEMBER HIM FROM HISTORY 2: CROSSING THE LINE)

The story goes Tian Yu, a frustrated Hong Kong writer meets street gangster Xiang and they embark on a journey to find the Bay of Vanishing Whales a place that leads to paradise. Along the way, they discover unexpected twists and turns and close bonds.

So BL Fam does anyone know about this one?

@pose4photoml @lutawolf @absolutebl @beniyo @wanderlust-in-my-soul @kingofthereblog-boysloveed @pharawee

[darlingshifter]

1 . ⋆˚࿔ The magic cannot leave you

when it is you

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Name : Mx. Darling (I use a very similar firstname to my irl name in my CR and would prefer not to include it…I’m still haunted from when someone I know found my shifting account once)

Nicknames : Darling (Most common), D (by the Weasley twins), DeeDee (By Kai), Stray (by Ron and Harry in my Animagus Form)

Year : Sixth Year

House : Ravenclaw

Animagus Form : West Highland Terrier

Blood Status : Half-blood (1/4 Hag)

Other Skills : Legillimency & Occulmancy + Rudimentary Magic

Wand : Hornbeam, Unicorn Hair Core, 13”

╰┈➤ I have a far too complicated yet interesting family history like most Wizarding families originating from Pure-blood families, but it seems mine suffers from far too many scandals and ‘blood traitorous’ behaviour. My grandmother who was born to a noble pure-blood couple later revealed to be the product of an affair with a Hag who married my grandfather, a supposed Muggle-born who’s real father was actually a Ministry Offical at the time? And to top things off both of them were in Slytherin and attended Hogwarts around the time of ‘you-know-who’. It’s like trouble just seemed to follow my family…and I’m certainly expected to follow in it (and honestly I think I already am).