#tw child abuse

[virtue1nvain]

Try not to hit your children challenge (impossible)

this site is so funny you sound evil

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Love on the brain chapter 4

Master List

CW: Please check the master list. This chapter alludes to child sexual abuse. Nothing is graphic in detail.

You had spent the better part of your day out at your son's soccer game. You are pleasantly surprised that your four neighbors showed up to cheer him on. All of them are incredibly involved with watching the game, as if it were a professional game. Johnny and Kyle had been pacing up and down the field following the game, encouraging Jabari and his teammates. For some odd reason, you found it incredibly nice that John had made it his business to chat with the other fathers as if he's always been a part of the group. Chatting away about whatever it is that men talk about, household projects, work (things he could share), being invited to help with the team cook out for Sunday to celebrate getting into the playoffs. You notice that he doesn't correct people when they compliment him on how his boy (and despite Jabari looking nothing like John) is well adjusted and a good team sport, always willingly leading others effortlessly. He certainly doesn't correct anyone when they say that his little girl Jayla is a quiet and well-behaved girl. They find it cute that she clings to his hand. She swings from his arm, pulls at his hands, and is just generally using him to stim and keep occupied because her twin isn't paying her dust at the moment.

The reason her twin is paying her dust is because Jada has made it her mission to play out in the farther fields with Simon. She's got her baby Anni with them, and she's fussing about Simon making sure his little flower crown is on right. She smiles at him and explains that Anni has been asking about him, wondering when the next time he could keep her for a sleepover.

“Wouldn' ya want Anni to stay with you?” Simon asks her, “I'm sure she hates being away from ya.” He's careful with how he arranges the doll's little flower crown on its head. Truthfully, never in a million years did he think he would be playing dolls or be within range of children again. Not since his brother and his family. He feels protective of this little girl and her twin and her older brother.

When Price had told him that the neighbor next door was in trouble, her husband beating her black and blue, Simon could feel ‘Ghost’ slipping to the front that night. Before they even knocked on the front door, they could hear the shouts of bloody murder coming from the woman. He was so angry, absolutely seething with rage. He had to keep himself calm so he wouldn't kill the bastard when he stepped out onto the front porch after Price flashed his gun.

The coward didn't even look at or speak to him.

“No.” Jada says clear as day, “Anni prefers to stay at other people's house so that way she knows she's safe.” She is digging through her pink backpack, and finally, she pulls out what she is looking for. It's a little charm bracelet, and she offers it to Simon. “It matches my bracelet. See, it says TTC. It stands for The Tea Club.”

“Well.” Simon takes the dainty pink and purple bracelet with the little white letters and flowers, “you do make some of the best tea.” He tries not to dwell on the ‘She knows she's safe part’ of the conversation. Still, something in his gut tells him he needs to ask. He's just never been good with being tactful, and he feels like he should be gentle with his questions.

“Jada…” He takes a deep breath, “have things been okay since your father has been home?”

She looks up at him and purses her lips. It's clear that she is thinking, not entirely sure what to say for the conversation. She turns towards the field as the sidelines erupt into cheers over the game. Then slowly she turns and looks back at Simon, “I…I don't know Mr. Simon. Mom and Dad fought last time…when I asked Dad why, he didn't say anything and told me that it was all fine.” She sniffles a bit, “I try not to let Anni or even Jayla and Jabari know how upset it makes me, especially Mom.” She rubs at her eyes, trying to make her tears go away. “Sometimes he gets mad at me when I don't behave, and he spanks me if I cry, but sometimes I cry, and I can't help it.”

Simon feels his heart drop in his stomach. He remembers the look on your face when you admitted that you don't spank your children. Why would you if the fucker you're married to hits you? This though, seeing Jada cry and sniffle about spankings and crying didn't seem right. His throat felt dry and he also felt like he was going to murder. “Why would he spank you for crying?”

“I don't know Mr.Simon, sometimes his hugs hurt, and I cry.”

You were chatting with another one of the parents, taking note of what you were supposed to bring to Sunday's cookout. The game is in its final moments, Jabari's team is clearly going to win. Your eyes are covered by two sets of hands, a broad chest pressed against your back and kiss pressed to your cheek. You know instantly that it's Kenny, even more so. You are surprised that he even showed up to the match. “Kenny, glad you made it.” You turn to face your husband, and he is smiling at you. He's handsome right now, the cool suave man that swept you off your feet eleven years ago. He's sober, polite, bright, and sweet.

“Yes, I told you I would show up for his game. Is his team winning?” He says as he presses a kiss to your head.

“They most certainly are.” You say and wiggle out of his grip. Your attention goes back to watching the game, but you do notice how Kenny tenses up. “What's wrong now?”

“Why are the neighbors here?” He's glaring at where John is, Jayla is perched on his shoulders. John is still chatting with a group of parents. “And why's he got my daughter with him?”

You roll your eyes, “Kenny, be nice, please. The kids happened to like them, and Jabari invited them to watch the game.”

The whistle for the game to end is blown by the ref, and your son's team is jumping about in celebration. Kenny watches as his son runs up to Johnny and Kyle and is immediately hoisted up onto Johnny's shoulders. The irritation can be felt radiating off of him in droves. You sigh and give him a side eye, a silent plea for him to behave, don't embarrass you, and please for the love of God be cordial. You make your way over to the crowd of cheering families, and when you get close to Johnny and Jabari, you lean up and kiss your son on the cheek as he leans down.

“I scored the last goal, mom!” Jabari is sweaty, hyper, and loud. His smile is so big it stretches his face. Brown eyes sparkling in the daylight, he is your baby, and you feel like you're staring into the sun right now. He looks and sees his dad, and his smile falters a bit but stays big. “Dad, you made it!”

Kenny raises an eyebrow but strategically avoids the glare that Johnny sends him. He holds his arms out for his son. It can be written off as Jabari being careful of heights, but he eventually goes to his dad. “Good game sport.” He ruffles his hair, “you really gave them a run for their money.”

“Thanks Dad.” Jabari laughs and hugs his waist, then he lets go, “Mom, can we cut the strawberry cake when we get home?”

“You made that cake?” Kenny says, his brows drawn up in a bit of disgust, “You know I don't like that sugary mess.”

You look over at him, ready to defend the celebratory treat. Jabari had been asking for weeks, and you finally had squirreled away enough spare change for the cake. You open your mouth to say yes, but Johnny beats you to it.

“Good thing it ain't fa ye mate.” His blue eyes aren't welcoming. They are hardly the same pretty light shade that you've come to know. Kyle is standing beside him, a strained but polite smile on his face. You notice how his fingers flex, hand opening and closing. There's tension between the three men. The chatter of everyone else sorta fades from you as you anticipate some form of violence.

“Everything okay?” John comes to the rescue. He somehow appears out of thin air, and Johnny and Kyle relax. Their metaphorical hackles lower. John has Jayla tucked under his arm as if she's a bag of potatoes. She really is just swinging limply.

Jayla lifts her head up and smiles, “Hello.” Her greeting almost missed amongst all the noise. Johnny and Kyle dutifully greet her with smiles.

“Yeah. Good to see you, Price.” Kenny says, but it's more like a growl.

“Miss Bonnie was just inviting us over for cake. I was thinking we could all get together and have dinner.” Johnny looks at you with the tilt of his head.

“Oh! Can we get sushi?” Jabari jumps up and down, “pleaseeee” He begs.

“No-” Kenny starts.

“Sure” you say at the same time. Both of you look at each other. And it's not lost on you that he doesn't like sushi. He could never stand the food, but Jabari does, and he rarely gets it. It's a mini stand-off before Kenny sighs.

“I spoil you all too much. Let's get out of here.” He says and heads off to the car.

You ignore the eye rolls from both Kyle and Johnny. “You guys don't have to have dinner with us. Kenny can be kinda tense.”

“Nonsense. Jabari wants us there, right soldier?” John says with a shrug.

“Yeah Mr.Price, I do!” He stops jumping about and looks around, “Where's Jada?”

This also makes you look around, but you spot her and Simon coming in from the unused field. He's got her in his arms, holding her protectively, her little pink backpack slung over his shoulder. Her baby is crushed between her body and his, her face hidden in the crook of his neck. She clings to him, shaking just a bit, and you feel your heart ricochet between your throat and stomach.

“Baby what's wrong?” You're rushing over to them and trying to peer at her face. Simon stops you, though, and he shakes his head no. You're a bit indignant because how dare he.

Simon pulls you close to him, and he leans down to your ear, “She, her sister, and brother can ride home with me and John. You ride home with Kyle and Johnny.”

“What why?” You ask, and there's panic in your voice, “what happened to my baby? What did you do to her?” You go to take her, but Jada only clings to Simon more. She sniffles and won't look at you.

“Listen to me and trust me, yeah.” He stares deep into your eyes. There's something akin to restrained rage in those honey brown eyes. He, too, is shaking now that you've noticed. John approaches the three of you with concern on his face. It's like he can sniff out distress and discomfort. Simon tells him the game plan for the ride home, and John doesn't question it.

You feel like you're going to throw up.

You arrive home, confused and worried sick. You find it odd that you trust Simon implicitly along with the rest of your neighbors. You chalk it up to them, saving you from Kenny and being genuinely nice to your children. The way they just allow the three of them to clamber and hold onto them. You notice how the four of them seem interested in their well-being. You, Johnny, and Kyle arrive at your homes, and you spot your husband's car in the driveway. But before you can get out of the passenger seat, John is approaching the car. He looks livid, his face red with anger. You're halfway out of the car when he kneels down in front of you. His hand on your knees, blue eyes searching yours for a moment.

“Sweetheart…I'm gonna tell you something. And you have to stay calm.” His voice is leveled. It doesn't match the urgency of the moment.

“I just want to get Jada and see what's wrong.” You whisper. Your stomach is in knots as it waits for something, anything to happen.

“Soap and Gaz go inside and keep him from committing murder.” John barks at the other two. You think you hear in the distance their front door slam shut.

Your eyes snap to your neighbor's house, and you see Simon, on the porch, a handgun in his grip. Your body moves on its own, and you're pushing for John to let go of you. “Move John, I need to get my children.” There's a swell in the air.

“Sweetheart, has Jada ever come to you about anything inappropriate?” John isn't budging. He keeps his hands on your legs so you can't leave the car. There's shouting in the background, Kyle is trying his best to diffuse Simon.

“John- no- I don't-” It's like your mind is running on dial-up. Everything is slowed down, and it's like a fresh new Hell opened up and swallowed you.

“Jada confided in Simon that her father has been touching her.”

You're not too sure what happens after that. It's all static, really. Slow motion. The sky is too bright. The air is too cold. John's hands feel grounding, and they also feel scorching. You aren't sure if you want to scream or not. Maybe you do scream. Maybe part of you feels like if you march into your home and bury your teeth into Kenny's neck, rip out his throat, you can right every wrong that led you to this moment. Spill his blood in penance for all the hurt he's caused your children. You'd also, in the same breath, cut out your heart. You don't deserve to live, especially when you are so blind.

Your mind is racing back to every little thing that Jada has said or imitated. Her idea of ‘me time’, her casual statements about spanking. Anything you can think of, every interaction, comes screeching to the forefront of your mind. It hurts. How are you even a mother? You were so worried about your husband hitting you, beating you and children to death, you never once entertained the idea of him killing your children in this sense.

Good God. Nights that you've been too tired to fight him off and blacked out from pain. Has he done things to them then? What about when you've left him alone with any of them. Jabari, now that you think about it, always hated being left alone with his father. He's shied away from his touches and hugs.

“Sweetheart?” John brushes away the tears from your face.

“Get me in the house John…” It's not really your voice that's speaking. It's too vacant. “Take my keys.” You hand him your house keys, “throw any and everything into a few bags. If I go in there, I'll kill him.”

He does as you say and steadies you. When you're in their house, you see Jabari talking with Kyle and Johnny, talking to Jayla. Simon is nowhere to be seen, but a part of the sectional is pushed against the basement door. Jada is sitting in the quiet room that belongs to Simon. He's in there with her, but he's on his knees. Holding her hands between hers, whispering something to her. She's got tear tracks on her face, and when she glances up at you, she launches herself into your arms. She's sobbing, saying sorry, she didn't know it was wrong.

You only shush her and kiss her head. You are doing your best not to bolt next door and kill the bastard.

a.n: so everyone take care of yourselves. This was heavy. There will be immediate consequences in the next chapter. Just you wait.

Tag list: @leahnicole1219 @uraeus56 @royalty-cashinout @chickennuggetuwu @gazsluckyhat @justanerd1 @the-monster-under-the-bed @curiouslittleprincess @flairenragebelmont

[losver07]

this is what i mean when i say black brothers angst btw

(if there's any typos sorry it's 6am and i havent slept a single minute since yesterday (i swear i spell-checked i just am mentally turned off))

[xiaokuer-schmetterling]

podlet lucky #13 is 🆙

it turned out to be AN HOUR LONG LOL https://drive.google.com/file/d/13IDf4gdNQj0xB958m2zKSqfqbhT-gzab/view?usp=drivesdk

what am i reading? this tumblr post thread started by @maelstrom-of-emotions and riffed on by @undercover-stories also featuring comments from @sun-ashes and @crowbrained

i will share this lan sizhui found family feels video until the day i die probably

[scramratz]

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Dick, after Tim nearly sacrificing himself Again: Tim .... you know we care about you... right?

Tim: That's strange...

Jason, was eavesdropping: What is?

Tim, blandly: The data does Not support that

Dick: Wha..?

Tim, pulling out a PowerPoint full of wacky transitions and clashing colours, titled "Evidence That Tim Drake Does Not Matter": Alright, do you want all the evidence starting with my parents or just what's relevant to the bat clan only?

Jason: Jesus, replacement.... please send this PowerPoint to a therapist and get so much help

Damian: Drake! Why is Richard crying?? What is this trash?

[motherofplatypus]

Killed an 8 years old girl along 36 others of her family

This post has been compiled in Record of Genocide.

[a-sip-of-milo]

It's always infuriated me hearing people say that children have it easy. It's only gotten worse as I've gotten older and have been able to reflect on my childhood and see the children around me grow up.

They do not have it easy. They don't get a say in most important things. They're seen is unintelligent, yet expected to understand things that full grown adults struggle with.

They've got a job, which is school, that is actually proven to not be working for a lot of them; myself included. They're expected to sit still and in silence for at least forty minutes at a time, and those with ADHD are treated as though they're immature and lazy because they often physically can't do it.

Far too many of them have abusive parents that lie through their teeth to make people think everything is fine, and of course, who would believe the child over the parent?

Aspects of abuse has been normalised. Parents are sympathised with when children open up about the things they've gone through, especially if they're not physical. They're told that their parents are only doing this because they love them, or that the child needs to start seeing things from their point of view. Meanwhile, adults can freely complain about their children on public forums and to friends and family and get away with it because "it's hard being a parent".

Fuck off and do better.

DNI Believers of narcissistic/borderline/anti-social/histrionic abuse.

[pearsfears]

happy mothers day

[liberaljane]

Your feelings are valid on too. Special shoutout to all the cycle breakers. 💐

Created with Mother Wound Project

Digital illustration depicting three generations of women with a ribbon linking all of them. The scene includes an elderly Latina woman shrugging, a middle-age Afrolatina woman dodging the ribbon & her daughter cutting the ribbon. Text reads, “pain travels through families until someone is ready to feel it” by Stephi Wagner

[ladyantiheroine]

While I'm still thinking about Nosferatu, am I the only one who sees a bit of a child molestation allegory in Ellen and Orlok?

Ellen tells us that she called to Orlok when she was young. She'd been experiencing symptoms of his influence since childhood, after all. She wanted someone to comfort her, protect her, guide her.

But then that someone turned out to be a predator. To paraphrase her, it was "something sweet turned to torture." She speaks how it fills her with shame, complicates her marriage and sexual relationship with her husband, how she lowers to the floor and makes herself smaller and more childlike ("I promise I'll be good") when beckoning Thomas to have sex with her.

It reminds me a little bit of the book My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell. It makes me think of the dynamic of a child who had a relationship with an adult she had a crush on, only to grow up and realize that he was a monster. It's the horror of realizing that the person you are attracted to and even fond of was a predator all along.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

yea it's a show about nepo babies but Succession really said "20 billion dollars doesn't erase the persistent trauma of childhood abuse, or absolve the abuser" so like. remember that next time your parent tries to uno-reverse-guilt-card you with "but we gave you so much"

[windybluebelles]

A lot of the justice league canonically have children who they raised more or less since birth,

(there’s a few time travel/rapid aging/losing them for a few years issues, but ignoring those)

,It’s not entirely out there to think that one of them would bring their kid to the watch tower.

I want there to be a fic where someone brings their kid, and have that kid meet Captain Marvel. There’s no doubt on this persons mind that Cap will adore the kid, he’s great at interacting with children, and their right! He’s great with the baby, answering their questions, picking them up, giving them hugs and high fives, all the cool shit!

He’s this 9 foot tall god speaking to a 3 foot tall toddler and answering all their questions with the seriousness of an actual interview, it’s going wonderfully!

When the kid toddles off to go interview another one of the supers, Billy turns with this big grin on his face and asks the parent,

“So how old did you say they were? 2?”

And the parents like,

“No? They turn 5 in a couple months,”

And Captain’s smile just, drops.

His face pales, he looks back at the child who is chatting with one of the more human members and doesn’t even reach their waist. That’s what a four year old looks like, laughing at everything, chubby cheeks, small curls, and teeny tiny body.

That’s how big four year olds are.

That’s how big Billy was.

That’s what Billy looked like after his parents had died and he was sent to live with his uncle.

That was what Billy looked like right before he became homeless

Oh God-

That’s the day when he found that he could technically throw up while powered up.

[traumasurvivors]

If someone you know experienced childhood neglect, they may not know things that you or other people consider “basic knowledge.”

Don’t shame them for not knowing. Making them feel bad because you had someone in your childhood who taught you things, while they didn’t, is not even a little bit helpful.

And yes, this post applies even if that person is you. Give yourself some patience and understanding. It’s not your fault.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

The Department of Justice has asked an Ontario court to condemn allegations that Canada intentionally withheld evidence of serial child abuse at a residential school to deny survivors justice. The federal government contends there's no evidence Canada acted in bad faith when it failed to disclose thousands of records detailing physical and sexual abuse at St. Anne's Indian Residential School in Fort Albany, Ont., for compensation hearings held between 2006 and 2014. "Some sort of explicit condemnation from the court is necessary regarding these allegations," Justice Canada lawyer Daniel Engel told Ontario Superior Court in Toronto on Thursday.

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Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[aubeezz]

whaddahal