#that is a biracial black girl with a white mama

[warwickroyals]

THE WAY I THOUGHT THIS WAS MEANT TO BE THE POWERPUFF GIRLS FOR A SEC

You have GOT to be kidding me

[aishabellasbigblogofeverything]

talking to biracial girls that are mixed with white when it comes to race is the fucking WORST holy mother of god. rn i'm schooling in a place where it's 99% black and me and some of my other friends were talking about how white girls treat people. i talk about how white girls have always treated me like rubbish (WHICH THEY HAVE) and this half white half black girl pipes up and says "my mom is white don't say that!" like excuse me madam this was never about your mama??? i was talking about MY EXPERIENCE like are you daft.

also this girl is a resident of the boarding house (like me) and she's the same one who will always remind me of my "privilege" whenever it's a race related thing. like yeah i'm quite grateful that my parents are well off and i don't worry about where my meals come from. i am AWARE of that. but face it babes if someone is accused of stealing in white people country and it's between you and me THEY WILL THINK IT IS ME. like please check yourself??? sorry for the rant but i honestly thought you would understand/get it so yeah. hope you have a good day aisha

No it's okay!

It's always the ones with the white moms too lol, wannabe Karens. A lot of wwbm relationships are rooted in misogynoir and mutual hatred of Black women which they then project onto their children, teach their sons to only date white women and teach their daughters to ignore their Black side unless it's convenient and to see themselves as above Black women when really we are all equal. And it's funny because you almost never see this in bwwm relationships. My maternal aunt and white uncle never act like this, and never teach my male cousin to act like this. And I think it's because Black women won't tolerate that sort of bullshit in a relationship(I hope this doesn't sound strong/sassy Black woman of me or anything) and will refuse to be fetishized and don't date white men to put down Black men so any white man they date has to be one who genuinely loves them for them and is respectful of Black people, but a lot of Black men date white women because they want a "snow bunny" and a lot of white women date Black men because they want a BBC. They date each other because they see Black women as insecure and jealous and not good enough compared to white women. And I'm not saying there aren't relationships that aren't like this but it's far less popular than the reverse. It's also worth mentioning that straight Black men are the most likely to marry outside of their race but straight Black women are the least likely. Of course, love who you want, but it's...something.

[readingforsanity]

Did You Hear About Kitty Karr? | Crystal Smith Paul | Published 2023 | *SPOILERS*

When Kitty Karr Tate, a White icon of the silver screen, dies and bequeaths her multimillion-dollar estate to the St. John's sisters, three young, wealthy Black women, it prompts questions. Lots of questions.

A celebrity in her own right, Elise St. John would rather focus on sorting out Kitty's affairs than deal with the press. But what she discovers in one of Kitty's journals rocks her world harder than any other brewing scandal could - and between a cheating fiance and the fallout from a controversial social media post, there are plenty.

The truth behind Kitty's ascent to stardom from her beginnings in the segregated South threatens to expose a web of unexpected family ties, debts owed, and debatable crimes that could, with one pull, unravel the all-American fabric of the St. John's sisters and those closest to them.

As Elise digs deeper into Kitty's past, she must also turn the lens upon herself, confronting the gifts and brudens of her own choices and the power that the secrets of the dead hold over the living. Did You Hear About Kitty Karr? is a sprawling page-turner set against the backdrop of the Hollywood machine, an insightful and nuanced look at the inheritances of family, race and gender - and the choices some women make to break free of them.

The main focus of the story revolves around Kitty Karr. Born Mary Magdalene Ledbetter, born to a black mother and a white father, an heir to the Lakes' tobacco fortune after her father raped her mother, it centers around what Kitty had to do in order to survive the deep South as a biracial woman, eventually turning her aspirations to Hollywood later in life.

Hazel, Mary's mother, did the best she could with raising her. Teaching her to read and write was the best thing she could have done for the young girl. Mary's paternal grandparents knew about her existence, though never acknowledged her like they did their other grandchildren. In fact, Mary has a younger sister named Shirley Claire, whom is only two years younger than she is. Every year, Mary's grandmother would bake her a cake on her birthday, thinking this was enough to ensure that the girl was never forgotten, and Hazel had a job with the Lakes' family for the rest of her days, most often taking care of Shirley Claire when she would come stay with her grandparents for the summer.

In her pre-teen years, Hazel and Mary would travel to Charlotte every Sunday, avoiding church where Hazel, a physically black woman would attend with a young girl who could easily pass as white, would be questioned. Wanting to give Mary a better life than she had, Hazel began acting as her minder while out in public, refusing to allow Mary to call her mom/mama in public. It is here that they meet another woman and child in a similar situation to theirs. Their friendship blossomed, and they often thought of themselves as sisters. But, after Lillian and Catherine moved away, they wouldn't hear from them for many more years.

When Mary turned 18, Hazel gave her a ticket to Los Angeles with the purpose of going to visit Lillian. At first hesitant, expecting her long-time boyfriend to propose at any time, Mary agrees to go for a week or two with every intention of returning back to North Carolina. However, once there, Mary realizes that Hazel did this on purpose with the sole intention of her to remain in California and never return home, that she could have a decent life in California so long as she goes as white passing.

Renamed by Lillian to Kitty, and Lillian going by Emma, they portrayed themselves as sisters. Emma works as a telephone operator for Telescope Film, and gets Kitty a job there as well. Kitty eventually meets another white passing woman named Lucy, and learns that there is an entire network on women living and working in LA who are white passing, and they are part of a bigger movement, under the name of Blair House. It becomes easier and easier for Kitty for spot a biracial woman who is white passing.

Kitty also gets promoted as the assistant to the owner of the company, and eventually they fall in love and begin a relationship. Kitty is terrified that he will learn the truth, as he has vowed to never have any children for fear that her background would come in the color of the childs skin. Emma eventually marries and stops speaking to Kitty as much, though after a visit learns from Emma's maid that she has begun drinking heavily, and that her husband has begun having affairs behind her back for her own refusal to have any children.

After Kitty and Nathan marry, she eventually becomes pregnant. Nathan hires a midwife named Nellie, who starts living with them in order to care for Kitty. At this point, Kitty is a well-known actress in Hollywood, having appeared in many films and has even written some of those films under a fake name. Nellie is aware of Kitty's white passing and confirms as much when Kitty confides in her one evening. She is terribly worried for the child she is bearing, and requests that Nellie help her find a family to adopt the child, though this remains unsuccessful.

When Kitty gives birth to a daughter, to be named Sarah after Nathan's mother, she requests that Nellie and her husband take her in as their own, and that she wishes not to see her, though she does change her mind. Eventually, Nathan confesses to having known this the entire time, even the truth about Kitty's background, and that he was upset that she didn't trust him with this truth, especially after they have a visit from the FBI for their knowledge in Blair House. Some of the members of the society are eventually caught and sent to jail, but the others remained largely unnoticed for many years, well into the elderly prime.

At this point, Kitty begins working with Sarah on the set of a new TV show that becomes a hit, and eventually leads to Sarah becomes a very well-known actress herself, as she continues to be well into her adulthood.

Interwoven with Kitty's background story, is that of Elise, one of three sisters to include Giovanni and Noele, that were the recipients of Kitty's inheritance after her death from cancer a few weeks prior. Leaving the entirety of her estate to the three sisters is something that has sparked media interest, as Kitty has spent her entire adult life passing as a white woman.

We eventually learn that Kitty is Sarah's mother, therefore making her the maternal grandmother to the three sisters and explains why she left them their inheritance. Kitty remained close to Nellie all of these years, up until her death when Elise was 12. Elise is adamant that Kitty wanted her truth to be known, even if she was gone. But, everyone is terrified as the FBI is still clearly involved in what had happened all those years ago, and a lot of very big names are listed in the ledger noting all of the charitble contributions that were falsely made.

Elise eventually goes on to win an Oscar for Best Actress, and she confesses that Kitty Karr was her grandmother, and that was the reason behind her being left the inheritance, along with her three sisters. Elise is able to come to terms with her decision with the help of Jasper, the grandson of the photographer that had spent a lof of his own youth following Kitty around at the behest of Nathan, which is how he found out the truth about his wife, but he ultimately was very accepting of her biracial background.

I never undersood what white passing meant until I read this book. Call me a privileged white girl, that's fine. It just never occurred to me that something like this happened. Of course, I knew of the hardships that black service men and women went through. It's in most history books, though I'm sure the truth is only the half of it.

This story truly opened up my eyes about what it meant to be a biracial person living in a time when being a different color than white was something to be ashamed of, or that was considered lowly. You can read books like The Help, but this story truly opens your eyes up to what many women felt they needed to do in order to survive the world. It's very similar to what people of color and women today are going through (Man vs. the Bear, am I right?!....I choose the bear).

It was very well done, and I am so glad I decided to give this one a shot. An easy 5 stars from me!

[dxsturbia]

All fuckin day your audience not going to be white people your lead girl is a black woman your supporting cast is biracial or a black you’re the only one

Aside from Helen hunt and you what makes you think that is appropriate in any way shape or form do you think the majority of Black people don’t actually listen to commercial hip-hop

We are at White capacity and why are you speaking for us I know you think this shit is localized but the hood is the hood

It’s not special just because it’s the bay

We’ve already gone through the process of watching Oakland be gentrified now we’re just here and here is the projects

Dirt cheap grandfathered homes they could not buy up

And y’all’s mamas 

What’s left of the people that can’t be moved

[diosa-loba]

.. and at the end of the day, women will still hate women.

because beyonce is dumb irl, a terrible songwriter who has a good body and is only successful bc she's light skin n practices dark witchcraft and she's really nothing compared to not aging well rihanna, that abused victim that went back to her abuser, but who is now a baby mama who settled for a broke, colorist ASAP Rocky, but taylor swift is a closet lesbian who always plays victim and a bitter nothing who clearly hates other girls. and megan thee stallion is an alcoholic hoe who only knows how to twerk to make up for her is trash rapping and she deserved to be shot. and that's exactly why cardi b sucks cos she has a terrible bbl and had to change her whole face to be pretty, but doja cat is a self hating racist who's rude to her fans and is only hot when she's thicc and wears lopsided wigs. zendaya is only considered pretty and a successful actor cos she's biracial just like h.e.r and tyla who are just industry plants with boring, forgettable music. don't forget about lori harvey the nepo baby who only is seen as arm candy to famous men because they need the pr .. also cringy singer j.lo and her attention starved pap calls, poor ben affleck, looks so trapped and miserable in a marriage with such a horrible woman, unlike that terrible dancer mariah carey, who has no sex appeal and is a fat, stuck up hater who thinks she's better than everyone .. oh she's only black when it's convenient to the black community. and like, there must be something wrong with halle berry if she can't keep a man, she got a nose job and she's really not the first black woman to be awarded academy award for best actress bc she's only half black, but viola davis is not considered beautiful enough bc she's dark skinned. but naomi campbell, ryan destiny and justine skye are all beautiful dark skinned women even though naomi is a super bitch with a white child and ryan and justine are nobodies so they can't represent black women. oh and lana del rey was hot until she was big and she made trailerpark sexy until her ass got a little too fat. and ariana grande .. black fishing to asian fishing, culture vulture homewrecker who clearly needs therapy and a sandwich, and kylie and khloe the ugly forever a baby mama pathetic, desperate sisters, but kim k, the scared to age porn whore who f'd up her face n body and is more boring than watching paint dry.

and amidst all of this, we still don't know these women. we cannot fathom the pain of having a public divorce, one where people choose sides and hurl insults at you until the battery on their phone dies. we don't watch them chase after sweet-cheeked children in tucked-away backyards or play board games, have glasses of wine or cups of tea and dance around with their best friends while their belly's ache in laughter. we don't know their marriages or relationships .. and we don't know their pains, traumas, insecurities or solitudes. we don't watch them unravel themselves, time and time again, preparing for the battle that we have made of their lives. they can never make a mistake. they can never cry. they can never be who they believe themselves to be.

and we take all of this and we go to work, we go grocery shopping, we walk in sunlight, we sit under the moon, we watch our favorite series and read our books.

so i close the gossip app. i try not to think about the endless women debating, arguing and insulting about how much they hate this age woman, that age woman, that skin color, this skin color, her body, that body, her hair, her face, her relationship, that side chick, that wife, that singer, that model, that actress, that famous man's woman. i try not to think about how much they would hate me if they knew me. and i think about how most of these women are probably quite lovely irl and their online personas are not who they really are .. they have insecurities the same as me and every woman i've known irl. yeah some of them may be just be haters, jealous and bitter, but most women just need to feel better about their shadows, if "such n such" public eye persona has "this fault". sometimes i join these debates, sometimes i defend, sometimes i post a funny gif, sometimes i've shared my experiences or things i've learned, but most times i'm silently lurking and keep my opinions to myself lol some of them women are unnecessarily brutal bullies.

then i come to tumblr 🖤 .. where it's cozy 🔥🌻

[cottoncandyruby]

I was gonna do more lil updates for MythiCon but the journey here has been so tumultuous all I’ve wanted to do is sleep and scream 😂

I forgot how to do read more on tumblr so just scroll by if ya don’t wanna read aha

"Anticaption, Aviation & Allergies"

Part 1. A little trip to Dublin

Of course the shortest part of my trip would be the easiest. So my mum and I were up at 3 am got a very expensive taxi, cos there were no trains, to the closest airport. Lingered there until our flight left at 8. I was so excited even though I’ve been on a plane before when I was small, I had no sensory memory of it or anything so the sensation of flying was like woo.

Tis a very short flight to Dublin, like an hour and I had a window seat so the absolute dream 😍. (Also that's like the only picture I took because I forget to take pictures)

Part 2. Dublin to New York

So we had to chill in the airport for 4 ish hours, we shared some BK chips cos airport food is overpriced lol. Anyways, it all chill until we get called to the lil reception people by the gate and they wanna look at our info and we don't know why or what the issue is. We booked this trip through booking.com but it is unclear what info actually went through lmao. They change something on our tickets and we get moved seats (?) And then it's all fine.

We end up talking to this Irish lady who travels for work and tell her about our super fun New York layover; it's 14 hours, we were very excited that we could go explore New York in the later afternoon/evening cos the only thing we anticipated doing was attending MythiCon. The lady's like "Oh....14 hours" with an obvious, "honey something went wrong" face.

Part 3. The New York Flight

We get on the plane to New York and we are on the exit row where you have to verbally confirm that in an emergency you will be able to open the door and help people get out, no pressure right?! I am on the aisle seat, my mum the middle and our new friend Steven(?) is in the window seat.

This flight lasts 7 hours and I spend the entire time reading the first LotR book cos I can't hear Steven for shit, airplanes are loud y'all, and avoiding eyecontact with bathroom users who are queuing up in front of us cos the loo is directly opposite. I made the mistake of wearing, what i used to call, my comfy jeans and I'm a big girl with some thicc thighs and oof ma legs had no circulation.

Steven talks my mums ear off for near 6 of the 7 hours in which she sparingly looks at me for ways out of the conversation or for me to join in, and I genuinely cannot hear him but also the whole ordeal is hilarious to watch. Except Steven thought we were a couple and I am realising I will have to spend the whole of MythiCon reinstating that I am travelling with my mum not my partner. Gosh.

Part 4. Newark, not New York

We arrive and Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry have just left Tom Bombadil and we realise we are not getting out of this airport. We retrieve our bags, my suitcase is slightly broken and won't stand up properly but we move. A very nice woman informs us we won't be able to store our luggage anywhere and that our flight which leaves at 6 am, we arrive at 4pm in New York by the way, won't be open for check-in until 3.30 am.

So, we must keep our luggage with us at all times and journeying into New York is suddenly much less appealing. I am also internally reeling from the disappointment of not going up the Empire State Building which was something I thought my mum had booked but no. Anyways, I don't wanna walk around New York with my suitcase but the other big issue besides the prospect of sleeping in the airport is Mielle Rosemary and Mint Hair Oil.

Here be some context before I continue:

I am biracial. My mama's white and I have no connection to my relatives of colour wherever they may be. So, despite being black I have lived a very white experience (still had the racism and all the shit but anyways) for y'all readers of colour or informed folx, you will know afro hair requires different products and care to white hair. I have slowly become aware of this over the last 5 or so years. I have never had a protective style and the town over from me is more diverse than where I live and has afro hair salons. So, I boldly book in for Goddess Locs cos I'm Jamaican and they look pretty and why not spice things up before going on a 33 hour flight?

Unlike as specified in the booking information for this hair it is not 30 minutes but 8 hours and not 55 quid but 85 and its this very rude 19 year old doing my hair. She puts some spray on and recommends I put hair oil on to keep my scalp hydrated. This is the Sunday before we leave. We get the flight to Dublin on the following Wednesday morning.

On Monday, I purchase the aforementioned hair oil. My hair feels a little itchy and I cannot tell if it is mild discomfort because of the weight of the locs or the spray she's used. So on the Tuesday night my mum liberally applies the hair oil across my entire scalp, a lil bit runs down my back across my face etc.

I wake up Wednesday morning, it still itchy.

....

We do the Dublin flight, the New York flight and when we land in Newark I am starting to feel very sick and my head feels warm to the touch. It could be from lack of sleep but fainting is imminent so we take the AirTrain to Penn Station and purchase some antihistamines. We see a sign for Madison Square Garden and head back to the airport.

We awkwardly finagle ourselves into a bathroom stall with our suitcases and my mum gets some nail scissors out from her suitcase and cuts my 85 pound hair off of my head. My scalp and more clearly my hairline is covered in bumps. I dont have phobias well except arachnophobia but hives and bumps make me feel sick. So I could not touch my head and boy I wanna scream and cry, I know that I must look as awful as I feel.

We remain in the airport til our flight, I get no sleep, my mum dozes off awkwardly on the chairs and my head gradually stops hurting but is still hot and itchy. The nausea abates over time.

Part 5. New York to Austin

Flight is smooth, my mum sleeps the whole way and I listen to music and half watch ParaNorman with no sound on cos I'm a multitasker.

Our flight is early, and we had booked a driver (which felt so posh) and Austin airport is lovely looking I must say. Anyways, our flight is an hour early so we sit in the pick up bit for am hour gettin chilly. Our driver arrives when he was scheduled to around 10.30 and says he'd been waiting for ages because he saw the flight was updated. Immediately felt guilty aha but he was nice. My mum woke up with a headache so I'm doin most of the talking.

The drive to the hotel is exciting, we passed by so many beautiful houses. Its so much more colourful than I thought, not that I had a whole bucket of ideas about Texas' aesthetic.

The hotel is tall, brown ish and angular. Inside its kind of intimidating but to the right of the entrance my eye catches this big sign for MythiCon and they've got a little reception area fashioned with all the merch Mythical Beasts get when they arrive which I'll post pictures of separately but it's lovely looking. The posters are huge and I fear they will be crumpled on the way back but c'est la vie.

We go to reception after being armed with Mythical Merch and they have shuttle buses runnin' to and from Stat Hill Ranch so my mum and I make a mental note to catch the earliest one which is at 2.30pm today ahhhh.

Anyways reception. Everything's going fine, despite my email the dude respects my chosen name which is very satisfying after being called ma'am several times awoke the gender angst in me. He asks for a small deposit of 225 bucks.

Side note - My mum and I are bad with money. We know she'll have got paid Friday morning for work and that that will cover Mythicon expenses. By the time we get to the hotel, we only have 100 dollars.

My mum calls my nan, I message my best friend, who graciously send us the money and 30 minutes later we are through. Check in was advertised at 4pm (it's around 11 ish when we arrive) but one moment of good luck allows us a room early. He might've just pitied us I don't know. I hate money, I hate capitalism. I know im saying this after having spent so much to just get here but that wasn't even money we had and it feels like we're being reminded of how we don't deserve to be here I don't know. It was very humbling anyways, and I could tell my mum wanted to cry and I was ready to zone out but it got sorted.

We get into the room, I'll share some pictures later cos it is nice in here. I go into the bathroom and do what I usually wind up doing when I hold stuff in and start to cry, a bit from the malaise of travelling its been over 24 hours and I've not slept, a lot from the continuous bad luck, and the rest for the renewed discomfort of the hair oil on my head.

The mirror confirms one thing which is I look abysmal. The product she used on my hair has fried and looks like dandruff, my skin is blotchy, and it's a big oof. I get in the shower to wash out the oil...consequently, I wash it onto my skin and the rest of my body. I bawl whilst doing so.

My hair starts to cool as I dry off but my body starts to swell. My already thicc thighs be getting thiccer, my hands and feet swell. My body, limbs specifically have a veneer of numbness like when you fall asleep on your arm and it takes a while to get any feeling back. It's a bit concerning but I take another antihistamine and finally sleep.

We had planned on exploring last night but we did not go anywhere beyond our room.

Part 6. Fog and Furtive (?) Optimism

Today the bumps on my head feel smoother, I'm still swollen but less so and I am very thirsty. It has been a heck of a journey but if it is the price to pay to see Rhett and Link up close and personal I'll do it.

But I had to rant and feel sorry for myself on the internet first.

If you read this to the end I would like to both thank you and apologise. I am manifesting that things will only get better from here.

This weekend is gonna be Mythical!

[triviareads]

i think it was you who talked about committing to full colorblind casting instead of finding an in universe justification for it? i definitely agree but i think they should be race conscious about casting as well. for example i love marina and all her complexities, but casting a biracial black actress for the role of a woman pregnant out of wedlock and trying to trick a man into marriage and pass the kids off as his (despite having sympathetic desperate reasons) contains real world implications because it perpetuates the black baby mama stereotype

Absolutely. To me, color-blind means understanding the perceptions of the audience and how that might impact how a character is viewed by an outside world that absolutely sees race, but within the show they... simply don't see race. Unless a show is willing to do the work when it comes to race (and a show like Bridgerton shouldn't have, particularly if they were selling themselves as a romance, which, I suppose they barely are now; it's more like Regency Gossip Girl), just don't do "race conscious" casting so you can pander to a POC audience. Casting more POC actors and more actors with diverse bodies (rather than just making small spaces for them as love interests when the two main families are all-white) would mean a lot more to me than having my Indian heritage half-assedly shown in a historical show that would only remind me of Britain's violence towards Indians and India.

[koda-krom]

Somebody look at this!

Ever since this bitch assumed she was black she been doin her hair like this. Afro's and all. Like Idgaf who likes her or not shes playin on black culture and profiting from it.

If youve been following her like I USED to, yall can see she NEVER did any of this stuff before. It was all soccer comb overs and bitchy ass music. Now she has a rape album coming out? Like why tf did the internet allow this shit? And why havent we canceled her?

Fuck it...imma cancle her ass. Don't give af!!! Cause if lil Miley decided, out of nowhere, that she was half black and started doing her hair like we do everybody and they mama would be pissed tf off.

Remind you,she didn't want the public knowing her dad was black until black people started takin tf ova. She was doing covers to fuckin Justin beiber....dont fuckin know how to spell dat lame ass shit, to producing a rape album?? Like com'on man!!

Again imma say dis shit and I dgaf who feel some type a way bout it. Fuck that lil girl and her kid. I honestly dont care that she half black (unless its mixed with white then eww), its whatever ya feel me. But for you to completely switch up and try to look that particular way is fuckin stupid. I was chill wit you singing "fuck yourself" and....all those other songs she did but not this shit.

This shit just looks like clout to me. All of a sudden your half black, got ya edges done up, afro lookin biracial, shit ya prolly had a kid with a weak ass nigga but at the end of the day....you look like a full on try hard and im tired of seeing white girls do or mimic black girls slang and style. Like ugh stay you flaky ass ova there and stop stealin our men!!

[glitterytidalwavedragon]

Putting it Out There (A Biracial Child)

I’ve always wanted to address this, I just never knew where or how to. But, as I write, I see the influences come into play more and more (More so when I am writing my B.B fanfic and the Tourist), so I thought, now is a good time as any and this is the only account and platform I feel safe (maybe because I don’t have 200+ friends or followers here who know me outside of social media). I also feel as if this prospective of life isn’t given much attention or heard. 

I, as some may know cause I had commented as such, am a biracial child. My father is a Caribbean Hispanic male and my mother of German and Italian descent. 

This does not mean I have the best of both worlds. In fact, most of the times I feel alienated. 

Born in the early 90′s, the song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin was every where. My mother would tell me that song was about me, now I was 5-6ish. I thought she referred to me liking cats, and trying to go out to perform a crap version of ‘Singing in the Rain’ along with the love for magic. 

No, it wasn’t so innocent. It was straight up because of my skin tone. I looked like the girl the song was describing. I had no idea. Nor did I realize a silent war was raging in my family. 

Growing up was...hard to say the least. It is even harder when you have racism on both sides pointing fingers at each other. On my mother’s side, my aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow me to visit unless it was a holiday to which there was pressure from the family. Out of spite, they would invite my much older siblings father over to cause a fight (The man did not celebrate christmas). Meanwhile my other aunt would tell me over and over again I was Italian. In the end, during these events I would end up alone and not know why. 

Now lets turn to the other side of the family, my father’s. My first words had been Spanish. Yet, I lived with English speaking relatives... guess who stopped speaking Spanish for a long while. When visiting my family on his side, none of of my relatives would address me, only if they had to because my father was not around. These people knew how to speak English, very well even though they had moved from their native island. They just refused to speak to me. This sucked cause where it was 3 people on my mother’s side, it was 16 aunt’s and uncles on my fathers not counting the dozens of cousins I had. So, as the other family events, I ended up alone not knowing why. 

The answer was rather simple but much to complicated for my child self. Both sides of my family was and still is completely racist. My white mother was near exiled for being with a man many would consider black (he considers himself Spanish and oddly doesn’t get the fascination on why his skin matters or makes me worry about him when he is stopped by cops...). I was the ‘mixed’ baby, a simple of her family’s shame. 

My father’s side could not care what color my mother was, only that she was not Spanish. For those who don’t know, Spanish can be an array of color, its cool. But, she was no Spanish, did not speak Spanish and therefore my father was exiled by everyone but his own mother for many years (which is why we ended up in family events, my mama wanted to see her youngest grandchild by her baby boy). This meant being put at the back table, being openly mocked, and never told of big family events like babies or weddings. 

This only lead to more fighting at home and in the end even my own siblings, alienated me. It was a pretty lonely experience. 

This carried on to school and friendships. Elementary was not fun, but I felt the effects more in Jr. and High school. In elementary I was grouped with the other Spanish kids, because starting in late summer I had my Spanish tan on and therefore, I was not white to other white kids. But I did not speak Spanish. At one point I spoke gibberish to just to be able to hang with the Spanish kids at recess. It worked and I still don’t know how. 

In Jr. ahhhh... at one point my family was making good money, which originally, it once took the income of five adults to keep us afloat, now it just took 2. My father and my grandpa (who I will talk about later). We moved to a ‘nicer’ neighborhood. In the early 2000′s that mean, a white neighborhood. Boy, did I stick out. 

Now you might think “But you grew up in NYC, said you were from Brooklyn” well, here is a fun fact. Nothing is more segregated than NYC schools. The north did not do busing like the south did, so white schools stayed mostly white while schools in low income areas stayed mostly black or other minority races. I was a very tan child going into a white neighbor hood to a white school. Lets top it off that I played video games and Yu-Gi-Oh, HA! 

I received hell. I had legit parents sneer at me, and girls asking me if I had sex because I was Spanish. A 12 year old, got hit on by 15 year olds because they thought my race made me easy. I was 12, all I wanted was to collect cards and play Pokemon on my stupid advance, I had no time for boys unless they were anime. But... someone (more than likely their parents) had set these ideas in their head on how Spanish people, more so girls, acted. 

Then I realized, I really liked all things Gothic. A Spanish Goth.... it pains me to think about it. Everything from poser, to faker, and ‘trying to act white’ was laid on me. I could not wait for Jr. High to end. And when it did, a whole 180 happen. 

I was no longer Spanish. I did not know why, just everyone referred to me as ‘the ONLY white girl’ in the school and that is not a joke. My school, was dubbed the worse in all of Brooklyn and shut down, which I believe it was dubbed that because of the 1% white population... I was the 1 after my second year when the other white kid (who was a boy people asked was my boyfriend) graduated. Now, in high school it wasn’t the kids who gave me hell. It was the teachers. 

In fact, high school led me to meet others who were also feeling alienated. One of which I am very close to, a black man who is Jewish (adopted by a white couple) and gay. He did not where he belonged either. In the mid-00′s to be a black gay man living near the ghetto was dangerous. I can’t count how many times he had to hide who he was so he wouldn’t get shot. Nor could I count how many times my other friend coped with being a biracial black man who loved anime and being goth so much he was bullied for it when we weren’t together (who I ended up dating throughout high school). 

Suddenly being labelled white get me an acceptance I was not expecting. I ended up being popular against my best efforts and people who I did not know knew me. At 15 I did not get what had changed, because no one had told me yet. No, I figured it out at 16, when I was placed in senior English because of my grades. My English teacher told me, I was white, in the worse why I could ever imagine. 

My English teacher, a beautiful black woman who celebrated her African roots, gave an assignment one day. I was one out of five in a class of thirty who did it, because I did it in her class the day before. I played sports, so did half the other kids, I did not have time after school. This did not sit well with her, she was mad, which was an understatement. So, she turned to the class and said

“This is why our people end up in Jail or having babies to early. Because like black people don’t take education seriously.” Then called be out by name and continued “is why she will end up being successful, because white people know the importance of an education.” 

First off, she was very racist towards EVERYONE, second I at 16, who was always called Spanish in school was now labelled white in front of everyone by an adult. I was both confused and terrified as my boyfriend who knew my family cared JACK SHIT about education looked ready to kill her. Luckily, he just walked out of class and waited for me as I was too studded to move. 

I later asked him if he thought I was white, he admitted he did until he saw my father and called me biracial. For the first time in 16 years, I had been called biracial. Went home, did not tell anyone what happened, asked my mother if I was biracial and she said yes. To shorten this up, this was what life felt like, 

At home, I had no race. Neither side welcomed me. 

In school, I was told I was Spanish and had to fake my way in the Spanish group.

Jr High, I am now trying to distance myself from everyone as being Spanish makes me a target. 

High School, I thought being Spanish would be a good thing. Now everyone is telling me I am white. 

I had not idea who or what I was. 

All I ever wanted was to be me. I wanted to understand why my family never got close to me, and I wanted friends who were friends because I was me. 

It was like I was being ripped to pieces. I could be what others wanted or be no one at all. I had no idea what to do. If people at the new school found out I was Spanish, would I become a target again? I was allowed to freely play games, watch anime, and be my gothic self if I were white. But that also meant I could not hang out with my friends who lived in the Ghetto, shouldn’t like rap, R&B, and reggaetón or use the slang I grew up always using. 

To be a Spanish person trying to be white

or 

A white person trying to be black/another minority of color. 

I had watched as the former got my friend (boyfriend at the time) kicked out of classrooms as he was compared to those involved in columbine shooting from teachers since he was different. Also the hell he received from other boys for cosplaying and playing anime based card games. At one point it was so rough he thought about dropping out and I begged him to stay along with his mother. I was so afraid of going through that again.

So I kept my mouth shut. 

I took on the military standard of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. My father never came to the school because he worked so much so no one knew. Everyday, I just took what my English teacher said to be without any force back. When Obama was voted in, she told me I had no right to celebrate, that my people had JFK and that Obama was for all the minorities to celebrate. I fell into a dark hole of hating myself. My home life was awful and now school I had to pretend to be something I wasn’t comfortable with. I started ditching classes, got into more fights than I would care to admit, did some really shady stuff and began hurting myself. 

The only joy I got was when I busted my ass grades wise and got out of school six months early. I did not have to go to school anymore and I could lock myself away to be no one but myself. It was lonely but I found company in books and my art. Through art I was allowed to be me and no one could take that away. 

When I returned for Graduation I June, did I get the final laugh on that English bitch. My mother and father showed up, she asked if my father was a cab driver helping my mother as she had gone blind. I told her, rather happily, that was my father. She went from joy to sheer disgusts faster than you can blink. For years she kept talking about who ‘mix babies’ never got any where as their fathers were never around. Yet, despite me hardly showing up, I gradated top of my class, never had a baby nor was I ‘loose’ (In fact I feared sex as a teenager), and my mixed couple parents as she lovingly called it, were together. 

She walked away from me and never said a word since. 

But now school was over, college was starting. I still hadn’t figured out who I was. Was I white/Italian or Spanish. In college I learnt no one was going to tell me who I was anymore, nor did they care. At home, it was still a battle of the races. Finally, one of my cousins spoke up and declared I wasn’t Spanish as I knew nothing of the language. At home, my aunt and uncle decided I was Spanish and called me a ‘Spick’ as a joke. I did not take it as one and therefore I was called ‘uptight’. 

My siblings also informed me, if I wanted free college to put down Spanish on everything unless it was the census. Then I should be white. Sometimes I still run into people who think I am one over the other. I had people come up to be speaking Spanish to be highly offended when I tell them I don’t speak the Language well. (I tried learning but it is hard when motivation is not there). 

In recent years, I had someone at work tell me how they met a Spanish person, shockingly where my father works, and then described in detail my father and then tell me they thought he was illegal since he looked the type. All because they thought I was white... proud to say that person got fired for being racist.I did also inform them that was my father to their response was “you’re one of them”. 

It never ends. 

No, the reason why I haven’t been driven insane is because of my late grandpa. My grandpa was a man I adopted to be my grandfather. My biological grandfathers on both sides died long before I was born and the man I adopted was close to the family and acted like a father to my parents. He was a good man and the reason I had a childhood. 

He once went through the same, Italian/Jewish, you wouldn’t think there would be a problem but when he was growing up that equaled Catholic/Jewish, to which he too was either pinned in the middle or rejected by both sides, this is the 1930′s-1940s. He gave me the best piece of advance ever. 

To be myself. 

That if I were myself, then it did not matter. The moment I stopped being who I am, that passing or faking would never tell me who my real friends were. That if he, could love me for who I was, a weird girl who liked boy things and drawing strange looking characters, then anyone else could. Being a stranger to myself would never bring happiness. So, after years of not listening to that, I finally decided to listen to my Grandpa. 

I know who I am, I know the history of my families. They might not like that I am not what they want me to be, but they don’t have to live with me. I have to live with who I am. My friends are my friends because they know who I am, not who they think I should be. 

So for all my biracial brothers, sisters and them’s, be yourself. Don’t try to force yourself into a mold, it isn’t worth it. None of it is worth it. 

Look yourself in the mirror and say your name. Say it loud and let everyone know they can not define who you are, and so what if they say you don’t belong, guess what? You do if you want. You belong because YOU say so, because that blood runs in your veins as well as theirs. So you get to make that choice! 

Make that choice of being you! Define yourself to YOUR standards. 

Don’t let anyone take that away. I know I won’t.

So here I see myself! A strange fox who changes coats with the seasons, that loves anime and video games, who plays Yu-Gi-Oh and listens to opera and Metal while can twerk and get low to Daddy Yankee! Who eats sushi and makes a mean chicken cutlet but can also make the best empanda with beans and rice with the rest of them!

And no one can take that from me.

[ballplayersxo]

The LSA trade on Devin and Kendall in MS is wild. These women have some strong insecurities and self confidence/hate issues. I feel for them because being so hateful on lightskin/black men and yt women that fucks them must mean you don't see your own self worth. They even hating on Devin's mama for being white and his dad for impregnating a yt women. Like these girls are simping over biracial all day but hate how they came to this world 😭 can we stop racially gatekeeping who people date/fuck

the topic is getting old. ignore who the biracials date, stop expecting them to owe black women anything, and just stan them for looks/talent. it makes life easier when you don’t care

[f33itan]

Heyo! Could i ask for a match up? If so the names alya i go by (she/he) im a september virgo i have adhd, im biracial w black and white but i look white with dirty blonde curly hair, im bi-curios but like men more. hobbies are drawing, writing and listening to music my personality as my friends say when you meet me im quite/artistic, when you get to know me im playful, sweet and funny and all ways cussing. I give my partner pet names like baby and hunny, fav characters are shal, leorio, chrollo

Heyoo Alya! Im really sorry I got to this late T-T I hope you like it!

Ok my first idea was tengen from demon slayer but then you mentioned your fav characters and I changed it to someone better 💀

The wonderful F33itan says your matchup is...

Leorio Paradinight (Paladiknight?) From Hunter x Hunter!

Just gonna say this now : Oreo may or may not be a bit of a perv

No but seriously he loves you

I mean female? You? Alya? with him? Yes please

Leorio has an attitude saying that he probably has some type of adhd as well, so you're not alone. Both of you need Kurapika to be impulse control or you might do something you'll regret, bad. Appearance wise really doesn't change anything, Leorio thinks your attractive. Sometimes he likes to ruffle your hair or play with it since it's curly. He even enjoys styling it from time to time.

Sometimes he'll pull up pictures of pretty girls and ask if you find them attractive, please say no of you'll hurt his ego 💀 He enjoys watching you draw and asking you questions, like "why did you choose that color?" or "what made you pick this character?" etc. One of the only times he'll be quiet around you is when you're writing so you can focus. Whenever you leave to go do something he'll sit down and read what you've written, whether you like it or not. He thinks all of your works are great. He also likes to take one of your earbuds / see your playlist to find out what music you like and listen to. Occasionally he will try it out and maybe even play it for you by surprise, whether it be on a speaker or in the car.

He really enjoys firing sarcastic jokes at you, and even more so when you shoot some back. It always makes him giggle like a little girl and he loves the look on your face. It doesn't bother him that you curse so feel free to use those words in the jokes as well. Leorio loves to take you to expensive restaurants and get fancy three coursed meals, and whenever you guys cuddle he's always the big spoon.

He gives you pet names as well, such as honey, baby, sweetie, mamas, and I have a feeling he would say something like "sugarplum" or "toots" as well. He ALWAYS has an arm around you in public, and enjoys making a clear point on how you're so great to literally anyone and everyone walking by.

[thejemersoninferno]

Honey, I’m home.

· Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader.

· Request: “Sebastian Stan x reader where she is biracial (Romanian and Greek) and gets homesick so Seb helps her” by the lovely @that-fandom-girl-blog which for some reason I can’t find or tag you but I’ve got you. Have a seat and enjoy the ride.

· A/N: I’ve been thinking about this request since it landed on my asks. Beta’d by the awesome @jewels2876 without none of my writings wouldn’t have seen the light. Thank you, darling. 

· Word Count: 5438.

· Warnings: Angst and fluff(?).

You huffed while spreading your legs wide open on the big black sofa. You rolled your eyes at the TV and looked back at your phone. You scrolled down on your Instagram feed, your friends back in Greece has posted a new video at the “white party” your hometown throws every year to celebrate the summer. You pouted remembering last summer party. You sighed at your life now. It has changed a lot in the last year. You heard the front door and keys.

“Honey, I’m home,” you heard him call out for you.

You sighed and moved to your side now, facing the TV. You put your phone down without locking it. You heard his footsteps but you didn’t move, you weren’t feeling alright.

“Babe?” You heard his voice ask softly. He spotted you lying down on the sofa and smiled. He walked his way to you and kneeled down, “There you are,” he chuckled softly and kissed your forehead.

“Hey,” you replied sadly.

“What’s wrong?” You saw his features fall and a worrying face appeared.

“Nothing,” You said and gave him a small grin. He looked at you, a pout on his face and he sat down, he drove his hands to reach yours and he interlaced your fingers together.

“When you’re ready,” He murmured, “I’ll be here,” he said and then he left a kiss on the back of your hand. You nodded in agreement and hummed an “okay”. 

You rested there, not talking for a while. He moved closer to you, your hands still interlaced. He drove his right hand above his head to run his fingers through your hair. Your eyes felt heavier with every caress until you felt yourself lose in your dreams.

“Draga,” You heard behind you and you spun around to face your mom, you smiled wide and opened your arms to embrace her in a hug.

“Mama,” You said happily.

“What have you planned?” She questioned brushing your hair with her fingers.

“We’re going for ice cream and then we will see,” You explained her. You turned around and smiled at her before kissing her cheek.

“Fetita mea,” She smiled nodding her head, “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” 

“I will always be your little girl,” You said kissing her right cheek. She laughed and kissed yours back.

“Go on,” She said, “They’re waiting for you,” You ran outside your summer house in Greece. Big white house, red windows and doors. Your friends were waiting for you, chatting and laughing. Your father sat close by, in the dining table you had outside, reading some book and drinking black coffee, his favourite. He shook his head, laughing at your friends and waved you goodbye. You ran to him, kissed his cheek and ran back to join your friends. You cheered him goodbye as you walked off, you noticed your mom joining him and you smiled wide.

You arrived at your favourite ice cream shop and waited in line to order. Three of your friends waited outside in the table while they chatted. You got your orders and walked to join them.

“So, how’s the hottie?” Your best friend questioned you. The rest of the group erupted in giggles.

“Jesus, stop calling him that,” You laughed.

“Well… She’s not wrong,” The youngest of the group smirked. You laughed, a small smile on your face.

“Y’all know he is my boyfriend, right?” You questioned arching your brow.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t call him hot,” your shy friend added. You all erupted in laughter and you nodded. 

“You’re the worst,” you added.

“You love us,” they said at the unison.

“True that,” you said eating a spoonful of ice cream.

“Okay, but,” your best friend chewed her ice cream, “When are they coming again?”

“For the white party,” you murmured, “They’re busy,”

“Soon you’ll be one of them,” your ginger friend mentioned.

“Shut up,” you blushed.

“Holy shit!” Your best friend spat, “It’s true!”

“We’re so excited and happy for you,” the youngest, Amelia, commented.

“Girls,” you said pouting.

“Fame won’t save you from of us.” The whole group nodded in agreement and you smiled wide.

“I’ll come to visit you all,” you said, “You won’t get rid of me easily, either,”

You all laughed and ate your ice cream. The afternoon followed by walking around the little town, the four of you chatting and joking around, greeting your neighbours since childhood and waving to the kids in their bicycles. By night time, you all sat at the beach, watching the sunset eating pizza, listening to music and making fools of yourselves. When you thought you were done for dinner, you all walked again around the town and sat down at a bar, drinking some mojitos and enjoying the warm weather of a summer night. 

The next morning you all got ready and went for a swimming pool day at your house. Your parents loved to have the four of you playing and chatting around. Your dad joined your chats once in a while and your mom commented how much he loved the gossip time, you all laughed and joked around all the time. After dinner, you all sat outside on your yard, facing the beach in front of you while drinking wine. The views reminded you of “Mamma Mia”, you snorted at your own thought and you ended up bursting out laughing when you realised your life wasn’t so much different than the movie, at least the fell in love part. They all looked at you confused and you told them, all of you laughed out loud and agreed.

The white party arrived, you were outside your house at the dining table surrounded by your friends and parents, their parents too. A big group enjoying a nice meal. You checked your phone every five seconds, still no sign of him. You sighed hard.

“He’ll come,” Your mom whispered at your side. You looked at her and nodded.

“I’d love to make a toast,” your dad stood up from his seat.

You all looked his way and grabbed your wine glass. 

“I’d like to congratulate my lovely daughter,” He said proudly, “Darling, I am so happy for you. I’ve seen you grow and become this incredible woman who fights and doesn’t stop at the minimum inconvenience. A few weeks ago, we find out your biggest dream has come true. You’ll be joining Broadway along with other amazing people. I know you’ll miss this place, these people and everything you’ve known but,” his voice cracked up, “This is what you have dreamt since you were a little kid singing along the radio, acting along with your favourite musicals and your favourite stars, I know you’ll miss hanging out with your friends, you will miss the beach, the weather, your favourite ice cream shop, the tourism, the walks across the river behind the mall or just sitting down here, in the windy night with our best friends, but it will all be worth it. Every single of us is so proud of you and will always be by your side, not physically but in your heart.” A single tear streamed down his face, his face light up smiling wide and bright. All of them cheered gladly and happy for you. You looked at every single one of them and you noticed their teary eyes and you couldn’t help but cry. Your family will be leaving soon and you weren’t ready yet. 

After dinner, you all walked down to join the rest of the town at the white party. Sadness left behind and filled with happiness and fun. One month to go and you were going to make the most of it.

Mid-white party your phone chimed, you unlock it and found a text. Your boyfriend telling you he wasn’t in town. His flight has been cancelled the night before and now, he and his friends were trying to find another flight to Greece. Your face fell down, your mom noticed and you showed her the text. She smiled and hugged you, trying to give you support. You told your friends and they embraced you in a big hug. You all agreed to enjoy the party and not think about it that much. You knew he will be sad if you missed the best night of summer for him. You texted him back and drank the tequila shot your friends offered. 

You were dancing and jumping around when the DJ stopped the music to announce there was a lost child at the missing kids place waiting for his parents. 

“Okay, Y/N, come get your kid,” Andy, your childhood neighbour, added.

You cracked up in laughter while your friend joked around. Your mom told you to go get your kid and you laughed again.

“Mom!” You laughed.

“Go!” She spat, “You can’t have a missing child.” She pushed you gently. You giggled and proceed to go find your “lost kid”. Your dad offered to hold your glass and you gave it to him. You walked all the way to the missing kids place denying, you unlocked your phone to see if he had texted you but not sign.

“Next time keep an eye on him, please,” You heard your childhood teacher say. You looked up at him and giggled.

“Sorry, Mr Davidson,” He winked at you and you looked at the missing kids' place. A big smile appeared on your face and your squeal made everyone around laugh.

“SEBASTIAN!!!!!” You ran to him, jumped and he grabbed you. Your legs around his waist, his laugh filling your ears and you laughed happily. 

Your phone rang off and you opened your eyes slightly, you spread your hand trying to find it on your bed.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Honey!” Your mom’s voice on the other side of the phone.

“Mom!” You said sitting down on the bed. You looked around not remembering going to your bed. You saw Sebastian’s charger connected and you knew he had put you in bed.

“How are you baby?” She questioned.

“I’m okay, mom,” You replied, “What about you? How’s everyone?” 

“We’re okay,” She told you, “It’s really hot in here!” She exclaimed you chuckled in response.

“Here’s a bit rainy today,” You murmured.

“Honey,” She whispered low, “It’s okay, we understand,”

You pouted and nodded as if she could see you.

“I know,” You babbled back.

“Sebastian called me,” She explained, “He’s worried about you,”

“He did?” You asked surprised.

“Fetita mea,” She said, “You know how much he cares about you,” You nodded still thinking she could see you, “He said you seemed a bit off the last weeks and he doesn’t know what’s wrong,”

“Mama,” You whispered, she interrupted you.

“He thinks you want to break up with him,” Worry filling her voice. Your mouth opened slightly and you shook your head.

“That’s not true!” You spat concerned.

“I know draga,” she calmed you down, “But he doesn’t and he is worried you’re going to leave,”

“I’m not leaving him, mama,” you replied quickly.

“And I know draga,” She said back, “Talk to him, pisoi, tell him,”

You sighed heavily and nodded, “I will mama,”

“I gotta go,” She told you, “We’re going to the beach,”

“Okay mama, have fun,” You answered. She said her goodbyes and you send her and your father kisses and greets for everyone else. You walked to the bathroom in your dorm, refreshed your face and tied up your hair. You walked out to the launch, not a sign of Sebastian.

You went to find him in the kitchen but he wasn’t there either, instead, you found a post-it notes

“I’ve got a call from work, I’ll see you tonight. Love you, x.” 

You sighed hard and grabbed some snack and walked back to watch some TV. 

Your Broadway debut finished two weeks ago but you were still doing some press and photoshoots. You and Sebastian were supposed to go to Greece a week ago to join your friends and family, but it didn’t go as planned. He had to stay due to some work, he had told you to go with your parents and, at first, you didn’t want to go without him but then, your friends from Greece convinced you Sebastian could join you after he finishes his work and you prepared everything. That didn’t work either, you’ve got a call two days later, your play will have an extra week due to high demand and you had to cancel your plans. You had rehearsals the day your parents left, so Sebastian drove them to the airport and facetimed you to say your goodbyes.

Now, you had four days off but they weren’t enough to go to Greece and come back before your next play.

You sat watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier eating some ice cream until you noticed the clock at 10 pm. Sebastian hasn’t come yet and, usually, he would be at home at this time, you unlocked your phone confused trying to see if he had texted you. Nothing. 

You stood up and walked to the kitchen to prepare some dinner. Around 11 pm, you had finished your food and showered, still no sign of Sebastian. You waited for him but he didn’t arrive that night. You went to sleep thinking about him and how he felt. You fell asleep sobbing because your heart ached. You missed home, you missed your friends, you missed your summertime in Greece, you missed going to Romania for the Summer Well Festival with Sebastian and your best friends. And now, you missed lying down on his chest, his hand running circles on your back, your little chats before bedtime, your hand drawing lines all over his chest and stomach. His laugh when you tickled him, his voice on your ear whispering I love you’s and his goodnight kiss. You were losing him and you didn’t know what to do.

You woke up early morning, an entrance call made you jump in bed. You grabbed your phone quickly.

“Sebastian?!” You said anxiously.

“I wish I was but no,” Will’s voice replied. You sighed and chuckled.

“Morning Will,” you said.

“Morning?” He questioned, “Have you seen the time?”

You turned to see the clock at your side and your mouth fell open.

“Holy shit,” you spat.

“Anyway, Sebastian texted me asking if I could pick you up,”

“Pick up for what?” you wondered.

“Don’t you have a charity event?” Will’s confused voice filled your ears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You spat storming out to the bathroom, “Will, I’ll see you in 20!”

You hang up your phone and entered the shower. Half an hour later, you were walking next to Will to the charity event. There, you met your co-stars at the play and the afternoon began.

Will waited and recorded for you the whole time. He helped you noticed little things, like some fans gifts, letters or just people wishing to talk with you. You saw a girl, Sebastian’s face as Bucky Barnes on her t-shirt chat with Will. You noticed him talking happily and joking with her and you remembered the first time Sebastian introduced you two. Will greeted you like he has known you his whole life and you quickly became good friends to the point he would join your trips with Sebastian or your friends. You smiled wide when they looked your way and you waved them. The event finished around 8 pm and you went for dinner with Will to your favourite Chinese.

“So, any plans next week?” Will questioned fitting a spoonful of noodles on his mouth. You nodded chewing your own food.

“No,” you replied, “I have a photoshoot and an interview next week and I’ll be done,”

“Cool,” he replied, “What about Sebastian?” he wondered.

“I have no idea,” You replied unsurely, “We haven’t talked that much these past days,”

“Is everything alright?” Will’s concerned voice made you shiver.

“Yeah,” You replied quickly, “We’re too busy, that’s all,”

“Well,” He murmured, “Whatever you need I’m here,” He smiled at you.

You nodded and sipped your wine. Two hours later Will dropped you at home and waved you goodbye. You walked inside your home to find an empty place, Sebastian hasn’t come home yet. You got a shower and went straight to sleep, maybe when you wake up Sebastian will be home.

Sebastian hasn’t been home two days, you have called and texted him, he had replied you telling he had to go away a few days due to work and you wished him a nice trip and good luck. 

He had called you the night before to tell you he wouldn’t be home for at least two weeks and you had given him support words and best wishes. On the other side, you were feeling worse. You would burst out crying for no apparent reason at the littlest thing, you have called your mom and she told you to cancel your agenda and flight home. You couldn’t do it, you had two more castings and you didn’t want to take the opportunity for granted. 

Now, you were home alone, missing your family and friends, missing Sebastian. You spent the day sleeping and eating. 

Day 4, Sebastian texted you early morning to wish you a good day and to tell you he will call you tonight. You got dressed and went for the last casting. You went there, did your best and walked back to your empty house. You were facetiming with your friend back in Greece when you heard your doorbell.

“Wait a second,” You told them. You walked to the door and flashed it open. Will stood there, hands on his pockets, “Will,” you said.

He gave you a quick hug, “Hi sweet,”

You two walked back at your launch, your friends greeted him and he saluted them.

“Are you busy?” Will questioned.

“Uhm no,” you replied, “Everything alright?” You wondered. He seemed a little nervous.

“Who’s ass we have to kick?” Amelia asked. Will chuckled.

“Thanks, Ami,” he said, “I just came over to ask you a favour,” he replied rubbing his hand over his hair.

“Oh, sure!” You replied quickly, “Girls, I’ll call you later,” You all said your goodbyes and you offered Will a drink.

“So,” He murmured unsurely.

“What’s going on, Will?” you wondered concerned.

“See..” He whispered, “I had this job trip tomorrow and Sebastian was supposed to come with me,” he explained, you nodded and sipped your drink.

“Oh,” You murmured.

“And I have everything booked,” He said, “I’ve already asked Joe and Chace but both of them are out of town for work,” He sat straight on his seat.

“I see,” You replied, “You don’t want to go alone?”

“I’m really nervous about this,” he told you, you saw his features and you noticed the worry fill his face, you knew he was really anxious, “I need someone to come over with me and help me,”

“I’ll go with you,” you commented, he faced you, a smile appeared on his face.

“Really?” he asked.

“Of course!” You smiled and caressed his shoulder, “I’ve got you, Will,”.

You and Will arrived in Miami the night before, he had the interview the next day and you were having lunch close to the hotel. Will has gone to the restroom when you heard a group of people speak in Greek, you turned around to see them, one of them wearing the white party cap the town gives to the visitors and you sighed. You missed home a lot, you wanted to go home. You unlocked your phone and texted your best friend, she replied back and you texted back and forward for a while until you noticed Will hasn’t come back. 

Your phone chimed and Sebastian’s photo appeared as an entrance call from him.

“Hey you,” You said smiling.

“Papusa,” He replied, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” You sipped your drink, “I’m having lunch with Will,”

“Yeah, he told me,” He whispered, “I’m so sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye,”

“Baby, it’s okay,” You whispered, “I know how this works,”

“Yeah, I know,” Sebastian replied, “But still, I feel sorry and more since things ain’t working between us lately,” you noticed his voice drop. A shiver run down your spine and just the thought of losing him made you nauseous. 

“Don’t,” you answered back, “Sebastian, it isn’t you,” you explained.

“It’s you, I know what comes next,” You felt the sadness in his voice.

A single tear rolled down your cheek and you denied, you felt your heart race and you wanted to leave. You felt light-headed and the anxiety taking over you. You remained silent, you could hear him breathe on the other side of the phone. You imagined his face and your heart ached.

“I have to go,” You murmured and hang up without giving him a chance to reply back.

Will appeared and you told him you weren’t feeling okay and he offered walking back to the Hotel. Once you were in your room, the tears streamed down your face and you cried on your bed. You spent the rest of the afternoon crying, you had messed up things so much Sebastian was feeling you were about to leave him. Will came over your room to check on you and with tears in your eyes and your sobs you told him everything. He comforted you and offered his arms to hold you for the night. 

You woke up dizzy in your bed, you were alone. You looked around and found a note from Will explaining he had gone to the interview and he would be back in a couple of hours. You showered and went for lunch alone. You walked around Miami, doing some shops and you stopped for a while at a ice cream shop. You sat there, eating your stracciatella ice cream, the sun warming your skin, you watched people walk around and you grinned remembering your hometown. You released you have been spending the last few months focused on work and how much you missed your hometown, you haven’t enjoyed the little moments you had in New York or the trips to Atlanta to visit Sebastian. You noticed Sebastian has made everything to make you feel like home when you moved from Greece. You remembered the time he proposed you to move in with him and how nervous he was, he had asked your parents for permission first, since you were living with your parents in NYC. You remembered how his face lit up when you accepted, the way he looked at you at night before bed or how he had decorated his room to make you comfortable. You remembered arriving home after the play and find him cooking for you, apron on, singing along Mamma mia soundtrack, too focus to hear you giggle or see you recording him. You were too focus in Greece, you have forgotten that time he took you to Romania for the Film Festival. You spent an amazing week in Romania, you went to visit his hometown, you met his mothers’ family, you have been to his old school, you went to your moms’ birthplace too, you visited your winter house and had spent two incredible days next to the man who would move the world for you. You sighed remembering how emotional he got when you told him he was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time and there wouldn’t be a day where you wouldn’t feel blessed for having him at your side. 

You remembered that last night, making love in your winter house room, his heart beating fast, your bodies shaking and your breathe matching. You remembered he had promised you, you would go visit Romania soon and you have told him you didn’t care where you were as long as he was by your side. And you felt sad because you hadn’t kept your word. You had been distant the last two months, keeping your feelings to yourself, not talking to Sebastian as you would always do. 

You unlocked your phone and texted him you missed him a lot. He texted back he missed you too. You texted Will to know how it was going and he replied asking where you were to meet you up. Will joined you long after and you two spent the day around Miami. The next day you would fly back to NYC and you wanted to do the most of Miami. 

You arrived home followed by Will, he had convinced you to stop over his house because he needed to change his clothes. He changed to a white t-shirt and white trousers, you chuckled since you were wearing white shorts and a white and golden top. You have planned to leave your luggage at home and then go for a few drinks. He told you Joe was back in town and he would join you for dinner. You walked inside your house, cursing your heavy luggage.

“Told you you shouldn’t buy that much,” Will laughed.

“But Sebastian needs this,” You replied turning the lights on.

Crowd cheers greeted you making you squealed scared. You dropped your bags and jumped on Will’s arms. Wills’ laugh filled your ears, you looked around your living room finding your parents, your best friends, their parents, Joe, Chace, Anthony and finally, Sebastian holding a banner that reads “You’re in Greece”. You looked around the room, it was decorated like your family usually did for the white summer party, the dining table was full of bottles of different drinks. You spotted your mom’s special dish for the party. You noticed the little Greece flags, the little booth with “Romania” written on it, decorated with Romanian flags and photos. You spotted a massive picture wall of the beach reminding you of your hometown, you recognised your favourite ice cream shop in some of the decoration pictures. You felt tears streaming down your face and you heard they burst in awe.

“Draga mea,” Your mom approached and you ran to her arms. She squeezed you hard on her arms, you felt your dad join too.

“Okay, let the party begin!” You heard your best friend, Alessandra shout.

You all laughed and you hugged each of them.

“What are you all doing here?!” You spat.

“Well, we were close by,” your dad said.

“At the other side of the pond!” You laughed.

“A little bird told us how much you miss us,” Amelia grinned offering you a drink.

“The bird was wrong then,” you chuckled. Your mom laughed at your side and Sebastian poked his tongue out at you. 

“So, what are we waiting for?” You asked. They cheered and you all drank your drinks and chatted happily. 

At some point, you walked to the restroom and on your way back, you looked around, you saw all of them talking and laughing, and for the first time, you noticed a spot of sand, you chuckled at the little detail. You smiled wide, you felt like home. You searched around the room trying to find Sebastian but you couldn’t see him. Your dad pointed out at the balcony and you nodded.

You walked to the balcony, Sebastian was there, a beer on his hand, looking the starry night in front of him. His features half-illuminated with the moonlight, you saw him peacefully and your heart bounced hard in your chest. You exited joining him silently, you both stood there watching the night, not talking just enjoying each others’ presence. 

Sebastian moved closer to you, his hand found yours and he interlaced your fingers together. 

You caressed the back of his hand and he tightened his hand. 

“I know you miss Greece,” He whispered, “And I want you to know if you decide to go back home, I’ll understand.’

Your heart stopped for a second, you felt like it was a goodbye.

“Please,” you sobbed.

“Papusa,” he murmured. 

You let his hand go and shooked your head, you walked back trying to hold back tears. 

“Doll, look at me,” Sebastian begged. You looked everywhere but his face.

“Don’t,” you babbled, “Don’t do this.” Your voice cracked as tears rolled down your cheek.

“New York isn’t the life you want,” He explained, “This is not the place you want to live your life,”

“Shut up,” You interrupted him.

“Darling,” Sebastian tried to hold your hands, “I know how you feel, I don’t want you to feel that way, I want you to be happy,” his low voice covering his sadness.

“I’m happy,” you spat.

“No, you’re not.” His voice cracked, you wiped away the tears from your cheeks. He stopped his tracks and looked to the sky. You saw the tears shining on his cheeks, his chest trembling with his sobs, your heart bouncing on your chest, you heard your friends and family inside cheering and laughing, you looked at them and turned back to watch the man before you.

“I am, Sebastian,” You declared, “I’m happy with you,”

Sebastian looked at you and shook his head, “And for how long?” He questioned, “How long you will be happy until you fall back again?”

You bit your lip, sobs escaping your lips, “Seb,”

“I know I love you and I know you love me and If I have to-” his voice broke, you saw him squeezing his eyes shut, “If I have to let you go to see you happy, I will,”

“That’s what you want?” You asked upset.

“No, I want you.”  He faced you. “I want to be with you, I want you to be okay, I want you to be happy, I want you to feel you’re having what you desire,” Sebastian admitted. 

“Then don’t do this,” you spat pointing at him, “You say you want me to be happy but this isn’t making me happy, this is breaking my heart,” you cried.

“Then why I feel I broke your heart long ago?” he questioned, sorrow featuring his face.

“You didn’t,” you cried, “You’ll never break my heart,”

“How are you so sure?” Sebastian whispered, “Because every time I come home, I see your face, I see your eyes and I see the light in your eyes shading away slowly,”

“Sebastian,” you sobbed.

“Dragostea mea,” He murmured, reaching your hands, interlacing your fingers together, “I am not breaking up with you, I am telling you you can go home and I’ll visit you whenever I have time, I will go to Greece, we will travel to Romania, we will be okay,” Sebastian kissed your forehead, and then cupped your face, “I want you to be home and be okay,”

“I was wrong,” you murmured, “All this time I’ve been thinking about Greece, Romania, my friends and I never noticed what truly made me feel home back there was you,” You cupped his face, “I only wanted to be in Greece during summer because you would come to visit me, I wanted to go to Romania because you were coming with me because the rest of the time I wasn’t even in any of them, I was in London auditioning for roles, going to castings and spending my nights with my friends around Piccadilly Circus.” You stopped to catch a breath, “I wanted to be there because I would see your face every day and every night, and here,” you looked around. “Here we barely see each other, you have your own castings, I have mine and that was hurting me slowly, I hated spending the afternoons without you on our sofa,” you mumbled. “I remember the afternoons we had in Greece or the walks around Constanta,”

Sebastian smiled softly, nodding, “I don’t miss Greece, I don’t miss Romania,” You admitted, “I miss my home,” you said looking at his eyes, sparkling blue baby eyes.

“Inimâ,” Sebastian whispered in your lips.

“I miss you, Sebastian,” you mumbled, “You’re my home,”

He broke the distance between you two, your lips crashing to his, his hand travelling to your neck while his other hand caressed your cheek. Your hands flew to his hair, kissing him hard, showing him your love, showing him you had missed him with your whole heart. He moved closer to you, kissing you desperately.

“Te iubesc viata mea,” you whispered breaking the kiss apart.

“Then, are you going home?” Sebastian asked. You felt the insecurity on his voice.

“Honey, I’m home,” you mumbled on his lips.

____

Draga | Dear.

Fetita mea | My little girl.

Pisoi | Kitten.

Păpuşă | Doll.

Draga mea | My darling.

Dragostea mea | My love.

Te iubesc, viata mea | I love you my life.

____

If you’re reading this it means I’m at work and I still have a few more hours ahead. If I don’t post after this post, avenge my death. LMAO joking, I’ll be back once I’m home. 

Love, J x.

[prorevenge]

Get the racist out of the pool.

Background: I’m super pale. My husband has a light olive complexion. My adopted daughters have this beautiful, dark olive skin that I’m super envious of. Many people mistake them as being biracial and assuming they have Sub-Saharan African ancestry. This usually doesn’t bother our family when it’s an innocent assumption.

When they were 4, were on vacation in the United States Deep South in a condominium complex on the Gulf Coast. My parents, sisters and their families were in the same complex.

There were a few pools in the complex and we decided to go to one for a while. There was an older woman maybe in her 50s sitting on the side of the pool with her legs in the water. She had a friend with her. When we walked up she said to her friend “Well she’s too white to be their mama...”. I chose to act like I didn’t hear her. My girls were oblivious. My husband didn’t hear her, but I did whisper to him what was said. The woman ended up getting into the pool.

We got in the water and the comments kept coming...”They obviously have black in them...”. “I’m not sure if she had an affair with a black man because she’s so pale...” (I didn’t understand that one). “I think they are definitely half black...”. “Maybe he had a relationship with a black woman...”.

Meanwhile I could tell that, based on her assumption about their race, she was VERY uncomfortable with them getting too close. She acted like they were contagious.

My husband and I could hear what she was saying, but acted like we didn’t hear her. We acted oblivious and kind of led the girls around the pool, play and splashing and getting close to her every so often. She’d move as soon as we got too close and we continued to act like we didn’t notice. We excitedly squealed with our girls and splashed around having the time of our lives. We were careful to avoid getting anyone else wet from our splashes, etc. After about the fifth time of us getting too close, the woman and her friend got out of the pool, grabbed their things and moved to the other pool. My girls never caught on and my husband and I felt a bit victorious.

Less than 5 minutes later, we saw my sister and her kids (ages 9-14) go to the other pool. So we got excited at the opportunity, got out, grabbed our belongings and walked to the other pool. Then we loudly said to our girls “Look! There are your cousins!” and my sister’s pale, blonde hair, blue eyed kids came rushing over to us anxious to play in the pool. The woman got this annoyed look on her face, grabbed her belongings and left the area. We never saw her again for the rest of our trip!

(source) (story by NovaNerdMonica)

[stusbunker]

Not My Brother

Through the Years: A Supernatural Reincarnation AU

Souls have a way of meeting in every lifetime. Sometimes they are   friends, family, lovers, enemies or rivals. Follow the journey of the   relationships with Sam and Dean over many lifetimes. Told by our   favorite Angel as a bedtime story.

A/N: This one is really long. Word counts are for other people. xoxo Stu

On the edge of two plantations, there was a stream and in that stream a young boy chased a girl. She had teeth too big for her face and he had knees too big for his legs, but they played anyway. He was the heir of the Eastern homestead and she was the only child on the smaller Western farm. Some people would use the term puppy love, but whatever friendship had sprouted between Dean and Y/N, it met a fissure that day.

Jumping along the wet stones that lined the bank of the stream, Y/N tried to keep up with Dean’s longer limbs. As the water deepened, Dean expertly jumped to higher ground. Y/N slipped, missing the next outcropping and fell into the growing current. Before Dean looked behind him to gauge his lead, Y/N had slipped beneath the water. Her small face bobbing in and out of the waves as she tried to tip toe to surer footing.

Dean shrieked Y/N’s name when he spotted her struggling in the water. He dove in towards her, frantically trying to pull her to safety. But she was heavy and he was just skin and bones. Just as Dean thought they would die together in those familiar waters, strong arms tugged at their waists, steady legs pushed from the creek bed and they all gasped for air. Once Dean knew both he and Y/N were safe and scrambling on all fours over the pebbled shore, he looked to their rescuer.

It was one of the slave children, he was not much older than Dean with strikingly light eyes. He kept his face down, cowering in the manner he had been taught, and asked his feet, if his young master was alright in something barely above a grunt.

“Thanks to you, boy, we both are.” Dean heaved.

During this time in America, many landowners also owned slaves. It was dehumanizing and wrong, but much of this country’s early progress was created on the backs of Africans laboring in tobacco and cotton fields. There were indentured servants, as well, but the Virginia Slave Codes of 1705 made the system harder for rebellions by pitting the mostly white indentureds against the black slaves. So, a hundred and thirty years later, the system had been solidified in racism. Families would own children who would, in turn, grow up and have more children, a seemingly limitless supply of nearly free labor available to them. And when there were too many families of slaves, the landowner may break them apart, sending mothers away from children and husbands away from wives in order to keep control over them.

“But, they are people. People did this to each other?” Grace asked confused against the blatantly evil deeds done by humans and not true monsters.

“Yes, Grace, people do a lot of things for their own benefit. Some chose to see the consequences of their actions, while others see it as the way things are. There were many problems with the system, but none of it could be changed overnight.”

***

After that incident, Y/N grew scared of playing so freely with the boy in the neighboring plantation. She kept mostly to herself and they spent their awkward years with little interaction. Sam kept to his duties, but lingered on the bordering stream, hoping for nothing more than a friend in confusing times. His people always kept him at an arm’s length, and without much said on the matter he knew it was because he was the master’s bastard. His lighter skin and bright eyes a beacon of indiscretion. He didn’t fit anywhere and grew up lonely though he had siblings and family abounding.

Dean grew strong and worked to learn what he could from his father, a man both revered and influential. Dean quickly learned what was expected of him as a young man from a good family in Southern Society, attending cotillions and races in the rare spare time he had from managing the land and servants. It was at a ball on the Harvelle property that Dean saw Y/N again, she wore lilac and her smile nearly broke his carefully quaffed manners.

They talked and danced, the night air crackled with their connection. As her carriage was called, behind the old live oak tree Y/N stood on her toes to press her lips to Dean’s for the first time. She hurried away, skirts jostling across the lawn, but he knew that they were destined to meet again. His smile burned with the heat of her breath.

They were married the next spring, a merger of both romance and real estate. Y/N’s parents remained in their home, but the lands and the servants were to be overseen by Dean and his father. Y/N was not used to the scale of Dean’s family’s riches, their quarters and fineries grander than her expectations. She soon learned every name of the household staff, settling into the role of wife and lady of the house.

***

Dean was continually surprised by the ways Y/N brought joy into the house. His mother had died a few years earlier from consumption and having a woman around was something he hadn’t realized they had been missing. His father watched contentedly as his son fell deeper in love with his young wife. John was a strict man, but he indulged his son, allowing Dean to revel in the blissful first year of marriage.

The farm workers had been less than accepting of the new hands from Y/N’s property. Their fields were tiny and their loads had been light in comparison, leaving Dean’s to train the newcomers to their new master’s standards. Sam was patient, helping the older men with their rows as they couldn’t work as fast as was expected. But the others resented the new mistress and her ‘lazy’ slaves. The tension simmered once the first harvest had been abundant, but Sam knew it was only buried and not forgotten.

Y/N was determined to make a good impression on her husband and father-in-law, planning a large gala for their first Christmas together. She spoke animatedly with her husband, ensuring that every detail was perfect. She oversaw the fitting of the servants herself, wanting their uniforms to be fresh and consistent. It was then that she saw Sam again, who she barely recognized as he had changed just as much as she had since the near drowning all those years before.

“Don’t fuss,” Jo warned him.

“Yes, Mama,” Sam agreed, spreading his arms wide as the head maid held up the measuring tape.

“Come now, surely this man’s not your son? You’re not old enough to have a grown child.” Y/N asked naively, thinking she was giving her best servant a compliment.

“He’s my oldest, ma’am, but most of them are grown now.” Jo quickly took the rest of the sizing down. Sam watched the new mistress in a way that embarrassed her and she soon sent her son away. Y/N missed nothing, but kept it to herself. It wasn’t until after the new year and the nausea settled in that Y/N realized how Sam had come to be. She didn’t mention her suspicions to her husband, not wanting to dim his pride with the truth of his father’s scandal.

***

Sam had begun to leave in the night, sometimes for an hour, sometimes he wouldn’t return until sun up. His mother started to worry. If she could, she would have followed him and make him see reason. But Charlie was still young, barely seven and tucked safely in her bed, Jo wouldn’t leave her because Sam was suddenly reckless. It was during a night of worry that Dean came to her in a panic, the baby was coming and he looked terrified beyond comprehension.

She sighed at the man’s request, gathering her youngest and a bag of supplies before following him back to the big house. It was a tough birth, but Charlie kept the father and grandfather entertained as Jo and another maid tended to Y/N. Dean’s apprehension caused him to miss how familiar his father was with the little girl, how he doted on her, sneaking her snacks and smiling like he hadn’t in years. Her eyes, though, Dean couldn’t miss, because they were not her mother’s eyes but his own.

Their son was born when the sun was high the next day, a hearty baby for an exhausted mother. Dean cried and John tried to hide that he did as well. Y/N thanked Jo and her assistant before falling into a restless sleep. The household erupted over the new generation and the years blurred into a string of nights like this one. Soon Y/N had four boys and a girl running through the lawn and swimming in the stream.

John had a stroke before the youngest was walking, leaving Dean to oversee his estate. He survived a few weeks in bed, Jo seeing to his every need. Dean didn’t question her devotion, but knew she had much more she ought to have been worrying about. John asked for Dean at the end, a drawling demand that he look over his brother and sister, Dean obliged not quite understanding what he meant. Until he heard Jo’s voice break as John took his last breath. The woman who had stoically helped birth his children and cautiously cared for his mother as she lay dying, wept openly for his father. It was part loss and part relief.

***

“What did he do?” Y/N asked Cas, the children long forgotten with their dreams. The old friends sat criss cross applesauce in the hush of nighttime. The sounds of crickets and an occasional owl heard from the seemingly limitless backyard.

“Nothing. At first he mourned,” Cas continued.

John had been everything to Dean and losing him was devastating, Dean refused to acknowledge his father was not the man he had known him to be. That John was flawed and that Dean now had to protect his legacy as well as his illegitimate biracial siblings was more than he could bear. He became withdrawn and paranoid, sending both Jo and Y/N away when they tried to reach him.

In the years since he first worried his mother, Sam had been busy. With many of the outbuildings on Y/N’s birth home now abandoned, he had started housing fugitives. The stream helped hide tracks and scents and the runaway slaves grew to depend on Sam’s stop on what would eventually be known as the Underground Railroad. Jo ignored his absences, but refused to give him her help or approval. What he was doing could get a lot of people killed and she wouldn’t support that kind of risk.

But Y/N found them before any bounty hunter could. She had brought the kids down to visit her parents, watching as they caught fireflies. She wanted to show them the hay loft, but ran smack into Sam’s back as he closed a trap door. The kids were running in the dark, missing the revelation as Sam’s face broke into a mask of worry.

“Sorry, missus, didn’t mean to bother you,” he ducked his head, but stood firmly on the spot, not wanting to leave those vulnerable to prying eyes. Y/N watched him closely and stepped back.

“Why do you do that? Look at the ground when you talk to me?” Y/N asked, the authority she held barely lingered in her voice.

“I am a servant, ma’am. We are to give you respect.” Sam answered, his voice gruff, but weary.

“You’re also my husband’s brother and my dear friend’s son.” Y/N replied, at that he smiled, bright teeth flashing in the darkened barn.

“Mama would laugh you calling her your friend. That’s a good one, ma’am.” Sam’s eyes rose to lock on Y/N’s.

“Well, she is. Probably my closest companion, especially--”

“Especially after my father died and your old man is being ornery?” Sam crossed his arms over his wide chest and watched her.

“Don’t get that familiar.” Y/N teased, a smirk catching on her lips. “I am going to pretend I don’t know what you’re doing here, because I owe you my life. But, please, for your mother’s sake. Be careful.”

Sam nodded and watched her leave, the small light from the farmhouse fire lighting her way. He waited until he saw her and the children’s silhouettes bounding up to the carriage, the gentle clomp of the horse’s hooves a safety bell.

***

The hounds and the hunters came pawing at the gates during dinner. Voices shouting and eyes burning into Sam as the accusations started to fly. Dean could hear them from the dinning room and excused himself while Y/N kept the children focused on their meals. She spared a glance at Jo, nodding in mutual concern. By the time Dean got to the yards, Sam and a couple others were bloody.

He bellowed at the strangers, “Excuse me, but what kind of man comes on to property that aint his and starts attacking people?!”

“Sorry, sir, but your boy here looks like one of them that’s been stealing folks from their owners. We need to find ‘em is all.” One of the men spoke, the others still struggling with restraining Sam.

Dean circled around slowly, eyeing the men, his gut tingling and authority questioned when suddenly, he struck. He backhanded the man who had spoke to him.

“What’s the matter with you?! You don’t get to put blame on my people without proof. I ought to beat the tar out of you, all of you.” He pulled a knife from his belt and leaned over the man, eyes dark and jaw set. A ripple of flint locks silenced the men. Jo, Y/N and Dean’s oldest, Kevin, held guns to the backs of the trespassers’ heads.

Sam fell to his knees, the others stumbled to standing as their attackers surrendered, holding their hands in the air and walking away. The dogs growled until they were tugged back, confused and frustrated.

“You get the hell off of our land,” Kevin’s voice was even and menacing. Dean appraised his family before looking at the bounty hunters once more.

“Seems like you made a mistake. This man hasn’t left my property since he was born, aint that right, Jo?”

“Yes, sir, surly.” Her eyes twitched at the aghast expression of the men, appalled of a slave addressing them while wielding a weapon.

“This aint over. We’ll be back. There’s people bigger than you missing folk.”

“I don’t know anything about fugitives, boys. Now, get, before you leave with a few more holes, huh?” Dean slowly followed the men to the road, watching as they headed East and out of sight.

***

That night the armor of denial broke and Dean snapped. He tore into Sam, beating him for bringing that kind of attention on to his name, for putting him in a spot of being saved by women and servants, for existing. His rage turned into torture and when he stepped back and saw what he had done, he wept. Dean sat with his head in his hands as Sam groaned. Dean was scared and he had let his father down in the process. A ship lost at sea, nothing made sense and he had no compass.

That’s when Y/N found Dean, bloody and broken, she pulled him to standing and walked him inside. She tried not to look at what he had done, the knowledge that Sam would be taken care of, her only solace for his pain. She bathed her husband, wrapped his knuckles in clean cloth and took him to bed. She held him to her chest as he fitfully slept, it was her longest day of that lifetime. Dean apologized in the morning, unable to meet her eye. She shushed him and told the truth, “You don’t owe me an apology, but you don’t deserve forgiveness. We need to keep him safe, because he’s family. Now you either help me or you stay out of my way.”

It was the latter, eventually. When Sam was able to work again, Y/N had him drive her to the barn nearest her parents’ home. She explained what was to happen, refusing to let him speak until she was done. She looked up at his yellowed and purpled face, “How long will it take?”

“Four days? Maybe five.” He looked passed her, over the hills and into the vast sky. “They’ll come for me, might even get here first.”

“Then we’ll give them no reason to track you,” Y/N patted his large shoulder, needing to reassure herself as much as him. He held her hand to his arm, his calloused hand warm against her fragile fingers. That was the last time they saw each other.

***

Sam moved with the last pair of fugitives onto the arduous trail north. Y/N had secured him money and provisions, more than any other runaway could have hoped for. She waited for the sheriff and the bounty hunters to return before torching her family’s barn and sheds. The danger of a fire and demolition of any remaining evidence cut the investigation quickly in half. There was a body, beyond recognition in the blaze. The mistress was certain it was the man in question. The master agreed.

Their children grew and the world continued to teem with the tide of change. Charlie took over when her mother’s hands started to give out. It was at Christmastime when one day Y/N started squealing over a letter, sending a gray haired Dean into confused dismay.

“What’s the matter, woman? Or have you finally lost it?”

She laughed at her husband, but called the maid into their chambers. “Take this to your mother, if you need I can read it to her.”

“That’s alright missus, I can read it.”

She held her husband’s hands in hers and she looked him in the eye. “He made it, your brother lives.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, clearing his throat he stood up, and looked out the window to the fields. They had down sized to Y/N’s old family home, letting Kevin take over the big house. They hadn’t acquired any more servants from the time of the fire, letting the elderly work less and slowly manumitting them one by one. Many stayed on the land because that was where their families were, others disappeared as Sam had. They lost profits, but built character, at least, that was how Y/N sold it to her children and their spouses.

Dean lost Y/N too soon, after only forty five years of marriage. She went in her sleep, cool beside him when he woke. He had lost his saving grace, but he still had a job to do. So that night, after all the arrangements and all of the devastation had quelled within the house and his heart, he sat by the fire and read with Charlie.

Like he had nearly every night since she took over, because he still had a sister he needed to look after, after all.

Cas sighed, watching Y/N cry was never easy. He took her hand in his and waited, wishing his presence could be as calming as hers was to him. She chuckled at herself, wiping the tears with the meat of her palms.

“Did Dean say what they were hunting?” She changed the subject to the real weight on her heart.

“I’m sorry, no, but if I don’t know then I don’t have to lie to their mother.” Cas explained.

“Well, I’m just trusting them to be back by breakfast, because I bought an extra pound of bacon for that s.o.b., so he better not stand us up.” Y/N stood up and reached over to help Cas up.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Y/N,” Cas said before heading back downstairs toward the couch to sleep.

“Yeah, still not that great a liar,” Y/N shrugged and smiled at him before heading into her empty bedroom.

Chapter 4: Bait

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterprincessbride @veroinnumera @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @dontshootmespence @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @julie121899 @mikimausii @fanfictionrecommendations-com @theunionof3 @windbirdy @rising-ice-phoenix @tuliptx @eve05glee @ericaprice2008 @horsegirly99 @goodbyemilkway @star-light-child  @supernaturalshenanigans @itsinherited @rmmalta @oceans-daughter-3 @forthoseabouttoread @2017booklover @new-york3 @bakinginhell @lakeli @marilynnlew @sol2694 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @alinahearts13 @all-of-the-little-infinites @amanda-teaches @oneshoeshort @claitynroberts @noshit-johnlock @sleep-silent-angel @jamielea81 @salt-n-burn-em-all

[blackscifimatters]

on The Hate U Give movie

“It was good for what it was, but it wasn’t all that.” - Sister Act  2

I had high expectations on the way to the theatre. The critics were raving and the book was pretty good. People were talking about Oscars. Then the movie started and my second note was “I don’t think this movie is for me.” The first note was “There is no way this little girl grows up to look like Amandla.” Really, if you are going to cast light-skinned as a teen then cast light-skinned as a child. Even the girl in the title animation is darker than Amandla. But Amandla’s casting makes sense. I will expand on this, give me a moment.

This movie has a message and it gets preachy. The different-from-the-book ending was trying too hard to get the message across and it could have gone a much better way. The powerful moments came off as comical. In my head, after every dramatic monologue I heard “Message!” (Don’t be a Menace). And during that hairbrush scene at school, she was a step away from yelling “Ooga Booga Booga!”. They were going for threatening and it is just funny.

Russel Hornsby and Regina Hall work really well as an on-screen couple. I wish Regina’s character was expanded on beyond Black Mama. I loved how they portrayed Iesha because they took away a lot of her ain’t shit-ness from the book and humanized her throughout the movie; she was funny. And Kenya was amazing. I was surprised at how much of a carefree Black girl she was because I expected the movie to make her the absolute antithesis of Starr and demonize her. Her reaction to Khalil’s mother on TV broke my heart.There needed to be more Seven. When he was on screen, he was amazing and I am going to have to re-read Native Son because he is in the upcoming movie version. TJ Wright as Sekani is forgettable until the end. Common is in this movie as the voice of cops. And Anthony Mackie as King doesn’t work for me because King needed to look a bit older.

A handful of characters from the book were cut or downgraded. I am angry that Maya’s character was so modified and that her minorities-in-solidarity relationship with Starr was cut. Sabrina Carpenter played “white girl with one black friend” well. KJ Apa looked thirty and sickly pale. I hated that black card scene.

On Amandla: While I was not blown away by her performance, this is her best role to date and I look forward to seeing her evolve. That being said,  I could not stand the voice-overs because not only were they not needed until the climax but also because Amandla’s blackcent was so annoying. When I heard it in the trailer, I wasn’t going to see the movie just based on that. I will say she has gotten over her mumbles but her line delivery was very cringey at points. Plus... I said it in my The Darkest Minds review that there was going to be a lot of deep voice acting in this movie and I was not wrong. It was just funny by the end.

Do I still think Starr should have been played by a dark-skinned or at least browner Black actress? Yes. It would have changed the movie’s tone but brought more authenticity to the role. But here’s the thing, having a light-skinned, biracial actress play Starr is just a reflection of our current state of black activism. Who is the media’s go to person as one of the loudest voices against Black injustice? A light-skinned, biracial man. Who does the media hold up as the voice of Black girls? A black identifying, biracial girl. Yeah, they identify as black but unlike monoracial Black people, they will always have that other half to lean on, to benefit from while also benefiting from identifying as Black. That other half makes them a safe black, and this movie calls out the idea of being a non-threatening black person (I can’t remember the actual term used) and it would have had more impact if Starr wasn’t light-skinned, aka default safe Black.

Am I happy I saw this movie? Yes. We are going through an interesting chapter in black girl representation. 

Should you go see it? Yes. The movie is trying to be something for a target audience I am not a part of. Maybe you are the one they are trying to reach.

[jdmainman123]

Yes it was ladies hold your panties in bikinis on the office site was voted the only one that didn't support this biracial wedding

But we know Dallas has a lot of cowboys. I just love seeing little black boys born without sisters and then want to say this slavery ring is all okay because I'm going to give you my old daughter. And let me remind you you're not allowed to say ice cream around her you're not listen to Tupac dear Mama around her. THAT'S RIGHT HE DIED SUFFOCATING

I called it my site was the only one against us by Rachel wedding I'm not sorry ALL THE BLACK HAIR WHITES AND GIRLS ARE WAY BETTER THAN HIS WHITE HAIR WHITE SKIN GIRL. YOU KNOW THE BENEFITS OF SAYING I WAS BORN BLACK BUT I MADE IT OUT OF THE STRUGGLE AND THE PROJECTS AND I ALMOST SUCCESSFUL WHITE MAN DRIVING A BENTLEY.

No you kiss my ass