I moved in with my foster parents when I was 15. I don’t live with them anymore, but my apartment is five minutes away from their house and I still see them all the time. I don’t always vocalize to my foster mom when I’m struggling because I know she has a house full of kids to worry about, and I don’t want to burden her. I swear she has this sixth sense though, because whenever I start spiraling it’s like she knows. If it’s been a few days since we’ve talked, she’ll call me and check on me, or invite me over for dinner. She’s even driven over here to pick me up to run errands with them and get lunch, just us. Sometimes I look through our texts and it’s impossible to not see how much she loves me, just from those texts. The other day I finally told her and my foster dad a little bit about what I’ve been struggling with, and they just listened to me vent, and they reassured me, and gave me advice. I’m not her blood, but she knows me better than anyone and I think that’s how she always knows, even without me telling her. I don’t know how she does it, but I’m so grateful for both of them. I know that no matter how messy my life gets, I can always come home to them, no questions asked. This is what foster care is supposed to be. I moved out almost three years ago, but they still save my seat at the dinner table. They don’t adopt kids, they never wanted us to feel like some of us were better than others, and they can’t take all of us. In the 39 years they’ve been foster parents, they’ve raised over 300 kids, but they make sure that I know I will always have a place in their lives. So when I think about what love looks like, that’s what I picture, them.

Mozzie's day to shine

Next month will mark what would have been Willie Garson's 60th birthday. It will also mark our celebration of Willie's special day in the form of our third annual Mozzie Mania.

As with our other creative events, this one is open to any type of fan creation, and the only requirement is that Mozzie is a major focus of the work. Oh, and if you're playing bingo with us, you're free to use one of your card prompts to make something about Moz. (And if you're not playing bingo, would you like to?) There will be an AO3 collection (Mozzie Mania 2024, unrevealed until Feb. 20th) where you can post most types of work, and please remember to tag us when you share via socials.

Also, as we've done the past couple of years, we'll also be using this event as a way to help continue Willie's legacy by supporting You Gotta Believe, a foster care organization that was near and dear to his heart. For each of the first 25 Mozzie Mania entries, we'll be donating $5 to the Willie Garson Fund at YGB, which was established after his passing. And though we know money's tight all over these days, if you've got even a couple of bucks to spare, we'd encourage you to donate whatever you can on February 20th. We should see how many individual donations we could generate on Willie's birthday!

And that's it, simple as pie. It's our annual day to have lots of Mozzie fun!

The tldr version:

Create something (draw, write, vid, whatever) starring Mozzie

Share it on February 20th to celebrate Willie and Mozzie Mania

Chip in a few bucks to Willie's charity if you can (we are, too)

Have fun

7:45pm - it’s dark out, not quite pitch black, but probably would be if I didn’t live in a neighborhood with street lamps. Even with them, it’s dark. Our neighbor decided now would be the time to mow their lawn. Wearing a headlamp and pushing a gas guzzling mower that is spouting plumes of exhaust and will likely wake up the kids. I know they probably have to work, I respect that, I suppose this may be their only chance? But it’s frustrating, particularly because of the noise and air pollution. It’s making taking the dog outside irritating.

Other than that it’s a nice night, crisp and clear and the beginning of fall. Fall is my favorite season; I love apple picking, I love hayrides, I love sweatshirts, I love apple cider and warm blankets on cold nights. I love being cozy and cuddling in front of a fire with my kids to watch Halloweentown. Fall also has my favorite holiday: Halloween.

I hated Halloween as a college student. Drunken parties with forced ridiculous costumes. Not my scene at all. I love our Halloween now. Making it magical for my kids, trick or treating in the nearby (rich, let’s be honest) community where people on an entire street decorate their houses with huge displays complete with dry ice and animatronic spiders and even the people handing out candy are witches and vampires and maybe try to trick you just a little. The street we go to every year is closed to traffic (only on Halloween) and so the kids and adults roam in hoards of glowing costumes. Last year it rained and people still came out in droves, tossing ponchos over their costumes and carrying umbrellas decorated in bats. It’s ridiculous. It’s the best.

We also hit up the business district where we live. The shopkeepers (antiquated British word but I can’t think of another) that we see during the week come to the doors of their shops and hand out candy, complimenting the kids’ costumes. We see our barber, the coffee folks, the dentist (who hands out toothbrushes, of course). They normally dress up too, and a couple are really committed to decorating their stores. We walk through the business district for over a mile until we reach the local Y, where there’s a big free party, complete with bouncy houses and pizza. It’s chaotic. Bright lights compared to outdoors, pounding Halloween music, kids running wild, covered in paint and glue from the crafts, stuffing hastily decorated cobweb cupcakes in their mouths.

I don’t know how or why I got so lucky as to have kids who can do all that. Who somehow, despite the trauma and pain of the past, can regulate in the fun chaos of Halloween and just be kids. It’s a joy to watch, it’s the only night I let the kids stay up past bedtime. The only night they somehow manage to not meltdown and to have fun. Sure, sometimes feet get stomped or someone screeches because an animatronic spider touched their shoulder, but they love it.

I don’t think I’m doing it justice, the fact that for one night a year my kids get to be kids. I don’t know how I did it, but every year I counted and planned to ensure that post-visit behaviors wouldn’t impact Halloween. The years we lost to COVID and residential treatment still pain me. But regardless, every single year since my kids came home we have been together on Halloween, and it’s one of the few things that is ours as a family.

For those bashing me because I grew up conservative Christian who is against the abortion laws:

Most people can't look at all sides of why they're against something. It's all abortion is murder and it's wrong. Just give it up for adoption. Many conservatives live within their own heads. Everyone preaches love but spews the opposite.

Yes, I'm adopted.

Yes, I've been part of the prolife movement since I was a child. I was forced.

Yes, I don't believe in abortion for myself.

Yes, I'm still conservative Christian.

When will conservatives recognize their own hate? Many of you shame the very women you tell to choose life. Many of you wouldn't offer any money or support to families in need. Many of you aren't foster parents or adoptees or even foster kids.

I'll admit. I grew up pretty privileged. I grew up in a small bubble and just followed what I was raised in. I never questioned anything. I grew up in a nice town, nice home, went to private school, and my parents paid for my college education. My parents are even thinking about buying me my first home and want to fund my masters degree. Newsflash, most people don't have this.

There are women literally dying because they can't abort. These babies will not survive long, or the mothers health is at risk.

There are babies who will never ever get adopted. Let's be real here. I realized there are babies who aren't adopted. I was a white, healthy baby girl. If I had a disability or medical issue, the chances I'll get adopted go down a lot. Race matters as well. Most adoptive parents looking to adopt don't want to adopt a sick/problem non white baby. It sounds harsh, but it's true. I've met adoptees who were told their adoptive parents settled for them.

So shut the fuk up about putting it up for adoption.

Foster care has many kids we can't find homes for because most adoptive parents like I said are picky. Most want white baby girl newborns. Almost none want an older child or a teenager especially ones with issues.

Speaking of foster kids, did you know many foster kids are raped and abused in foster care? Many can't access health care. What if a teenage foster child gets pregnant? She can't abort. There are kids who spend half their lives foster care until they age out with nothing. Where are the conservatives helping them out? What about the aged out teenager who get pregnant and is homeless now? Will you help her?

Let's talk about the 10 year old pregnant rape victim. If you support a child carrying a baby after being raped you're sick af. I'll be the first one to tell you that if I had a child and she got pregnant from rape, I'll risk my freedom and life getting her an abortion. No child should be forced to not only be raped but be forced to carry a pregnancy from rape. What if it was your child? Grandchild? Cousin? Neighbor? Sister? Many of you call yourself prolife but don't care about kids at all. What about the 10 year old?

And rapists in many states have parental rights. Think about that for a second. Not only must victims bare the child but share custody with their rapist. This country is sick.

And adoption isn't the answer. I'm adopted. I can honestly tell you it's not fun being adopted. Knowing your birth mom didn't want you. Everyone can say she made an adoption plan or she loves you so much. What a load of crap. I'm thankful for my life and my adoptive family, but honestly, at times, I hate being adopted. Everyone else can be with their biological families but me. Now that I'm an adult, it gets harder. I can't wrap my mind around carrying a child and birthing a child just to give your own baby away. It's not something to be proud of either.

Having no genetics around you sucks. Not knowing where you're from sucks. I literally have so many issues from being adopted it's not a joke. Conservatives can push adoption all they want but adoption has its own issues too. Women shouldn't be forced to carry a pregnancy just to give the baby away for adoption. Adoption should be for kids who truly need it when they don't have any family willing to take them in. Why do we want more kids born when we can't even take care of the kids we already have born?

And inflation is a bitch right now. My parents brought their houses for cheap. Their college degrees were cheap. Most people can't even afford to live, let alone pay their medical bills. Many people can't afford rent or a mortgage.

So, yes, I'm a conservative Christian adoptee who is against abortion laws. The prolife movement is a joke. I hate my damn state. And shut the fuq up about adoption. We don't need more babies born to be adopted anyway. Women aren't here to be your incubators.

And before y'all attack me, I believe in Jesus, the Bible, and I've attended Christian schools my entire life. My boyfriend is a preachers kid and grew up more religious than I did. I still attend church, and I still have my beliefs. I attended Christian college and came back a different person once I got outside of my bubble and my family. I see a lot of stuff differently and feel I was brainwashed on many things. I still don't support the abortion ban. Make abortion legal for all. Now shut up and actually practice what you preach if you're prolife. I'm not talking about preventing abortion or banning it either. The hard work of helping born kids and born people who are struggling.

been spending too much time on the wrong side of instagram reels lately and I just gotta say something.

can we please start supporting pregnant teens more?

now I get what you're thinking, "Oh, we shouldn't normalize teen pregnancy" that's not what im saying. teen pregnancy fucking sucks and a child raising a child should never be normalized. what I'm saying is they should be supported, regardless of if they are going through with the pregnancy or not for whatever reason.

did you know that about 3 in 10 afab people will get pregnant at least once before age 20? or that 7 in 10 living in foster care have experienced a pregnancy?

the teens who get pregnant and live in supportive homes are extremely lucky, regardless of whether or not they go through with the pregnancy or decide to keep the baby.

many get kicked out, living in shelters or on the streets, or with family members other than their parents or in foster care.

it is extremely difficult to find homes for pregnant teens in foster care, and the foster care system sends them to teen living programs that are basically glorified shelters.

a child raising a child deserves all the support they can get, not being cast aside in some shitty group home that doesn't really care about them.

sincerely, someone who got pregnant at 15 and was sent to a "program" until they were 18.

Idk how many former foster youth are on here but I feel like there has to be at least a few. I’m hoping to make some new friends who have experienced similar things as me and to educate others on the foster care system.

Hey how was albert in the gravity fall au? Was he okay after the whole blood thingy?

Gravity Falls AU Master List

No one was okay after that…

Race was in pain. His head was killing him as he once again rolled over to the side of his bed and spit up into that bucket that was beside him. His limbs felt weak and sore and he couldn’t get a grip on what was happening.

He could remember agony and screaming and all of the sudden Jack was holding him and crying, begging him to wake up. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but he swallowed hard, coughing as he felt his dry throat pinch. “JJ…?” he whispered, trying to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy.

“Hey bud,” Jack responded gently. Race felt him run a hand over his hair. That’s when he realized he was sweating and shaking all at once.

“Jay…” Race called again, not having the energy to ask questions, but wanting to know everything.

A soft hush fell over his ears as Jack sat at the side of his bed. “Your fever’s coming back down, it’s okay,” Jack whispered. “Just relax—“

The boy whimpered, leaning into Jack’s hand as he tried to move, to sit up, but he couldn’t make his body and his brain cooperate. He squeezed his eyes shut as a cold wave of pain washed over his head. With his eyes closed, he could see fangs and red hair attacking him. He flinched at the hallucination, shaking his head, and twisting a bit under his covers. He could hear a harsh hiss, like a snake and then agonizing pain. He sucked in a breath and sobbed as Jack shushed him again and shook his head. “It’s alright, Racer, you’re okay,” he promised. “You’re safe—“

“N-no,” Race whimpered. “A-Albert, where’s Albert?” he asked.

Jack sighed. This was the sixth time Race had asked for Albert. And after his sighting of him in the woods, he knew that Albert would lose it at the sight of Race. He could see the addiction in the redhead’s eyes. He shook his head, his heart breaking as he said what he needed to say next. “Wh-who’s Albert?” he whispered.

The boy stilled on the bed, finally able to crack his eyes open. He sniffled. “A-Al… m-my friend, m-my friend Albert…” he whined.

Jack’s shoulders sagged and he glanced out the window and sniffled. If he kept going with this bit, he wouldn’t have to erase just Albert from Race’s mind, but everything, all of it. Graves, Crutchie, Spot, Drake every crazy and impossible thing they had discovered in this place.

But as he remembered the boy writhing around on the ground, unable to breathe or move, he knew it was best, he knew he had to do this. “Race… we don’t know any Albert, pal,” he assured calmly. “You’ve been sick for weeks now… you need to rest.”

Race couldn’t keep his eyes open. They fell shut nearly immediately and he tried to open them again. “Jackie… stay…” he whispered before he fell back into his fitful sleep.

Jack sniffled, looking down at the boy and nodding. “I’m not going anywhere, kiddo,” he swore. “Not until you n’ me are on that trip back ta New York…”

With all the money he had, he was getting them out of here if it was the last thing he did.

Girls from foster care are some of the most vulnerable members of society.

When girls run away from foster homes or when they age out of the system, they are at an increased risk of being exploited into the sex industry.

It is crucial to understand that the sex industry preys on girls and women from foster care because they are isolated from their families which makes them easy to exploit. When you grow up in foster care, you can also be dangerously lonely and in need of human connection and support. Human traffickers exploit foster girl's need for family and love.

Sex trafficking has a low rate of conviction but is highly profitable (a drug can be sold once, but a human being can be sold numerous times for sex).

It's also important to understand that recruitment into the sex industry is often done online. Be wary of people who suggest that "sex work is work" - they are recruiters. Be wary of people who use "swerf" (sex worker exclusive radical feminist) in order to demonize anyone who exposes the harm of the sex industry - they are recruiters. Real feminists protect the most vulnerable women and girls.

Something I learned growing up in foster care is how to be quiet. Being quiet kept me safe when I was living in an abusive home, and being quiet in foster care allowed me to keep my placement. It made me one of the “good kids.” Now that I am adult, I don’t know how to take up space. I’m so used to doing what I’m supposed to and keeping my opinions to myself all the time. But you don’t make friends like that, or build relationships. Now I’m trying to teach myself that it’s okay to take up space and that I deserve to be wherever I am. I deserve to be at those social events. I deserve to have an opinion. Sometimes I feel like I’m different from “normal” people because I lost so many of the experiences and opportunities kids and teenagers are supposed to have. But someone told me the other day that by telling myself that, I’m sabotaging myself and selling myself short. By having that mindset I’m missing out on opportunities to build relationships and make friends. I have to start acting like I deserve to be there just as much as everyone else. It’s a strange concept and it’s hard to rewrite my brain. It was also hard to hear, but it’s absolutely true.

We're thinking about Willie on this sad anniversary and remembering how lucky we are that Mozzie is part of his legacy. Hard to believe it's already been two years without him.

Another part of Willie's legacy is the way he was a tireless advocate for helping foster kids find families and the work he did with You Gotta Believe. It's still important work, and any time you find yourself with a few dollars to spare, the Willie Garson Fund is always a worthwhile investment.

We miss you, Willie.

Would you mind sharing a few headcanons about Supercorp fostering a troubled child? Thank you!

Well, I think Lena and Kara would complement each other very well as a fostering couple. They're both really good at communicating when they want to be, and they'd have their respective experiences to fall back on to help them understand where their wards are at emotionally.

Kara would be really good with kids who are dealing with grief and loss, or kids who were pulled suddenly from their homes and families. Meanwhile Lena would be spectacular with the kids who have been in the system for a long time and are dealing with feeling unwanted and like a burden to others.

They would both have their respective takes on feeling othered by their peers (Kara for being weird and alien, Lena for being smart and rich). Both of them would be able to provide the kind of reassurance each type of kid would need. They would be able to set boundaries and expectations as well.

Like, if there's a kid with explosive emotional outbursts, Lena will tell them that having someone yelling at her makes her uncomfortable, and ask them to find another way to express their anger. And it would prompt them to think more about how they convey their emotions and feelings before just lashing out like they usually do.

And for the kids who have learned to hit others, Kara would shut that down immediately. There wouldn't be a single kid who could overpower her, first of all, and she's very good at helping people realize their potential for good. Like, when a kid is bigger or smarter than their peers, "you have a responsibility to help protect others. You can be the person you needed most."

Whereas I think Lena would be best with emotional bullies, considering she was one.

You Promised Me || Axl Rose || Sweet Child O’ Mine

“Put your hands in the air!” Crap. I dropped the spray can and held my hands in the air turning around to see the cops standing there behind the open cop car door. “Jaeden Rose you have the right to remain silent anything you say will be testified against you in court.” Said a cop taking my hands down behind my back and putting cuffs on. The cop walked me to the car, placed me in, and shut the door.

I watched as the car sped off and the sirens went on. I only had one thing on my mind in the moment sitting in the backseat of a cop car.

Axl is going to kill me.

꧁꧂

I’m sitting in the jail cell waiting for someone to bust me out. Then I hear my name being called. “Rose. You’re free to go.” The officer said. I walked out of the cell and down the hall in the lobby to see the devil himself. “Hi Axl..” I squeak out and wave little bit. Axl looked pissed off at me. “Jaeden, you and I are going to have long ride home, young lady.” Ohh he’s pissed. He grabbed my ear and practically dragged me out of the police station.

꧁꧂

“Vandalism! Stealing! Jaeden Delilah are you shitting me! This is your 17th arrest the next one is going to be you in juve!” Axl yelled at me as we were driving home. I stayed quiet and didn’t look up at him. “Nico, look at me. Look at me Nico.” I looked at him. “You promised me that you wouldn’t get caught up in vandalism or stealing.” He said looking at me and then looking at the road. “I know I know I fucked up! But I’m trying not to it just seemed like a little relief to get back into spray painting. The stealing that’s something that I can’t tell you.” I said, starting to pick at my lip. Axl looked at me seeing what I was doing and smacked my hand down. “Stop picking your lip Neeks, it’s not good.” He says.

꧁꧂

“You wanna talk about the stealing? Or do you want to do it tomorrow morning?” Axl asks pulling into the driveway. “Tomorrow.” I answered unbuckling the seatbelt and got out of the car. I unlocked the front door and walked inside. “Hey! Neeks! Wait up!” I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Percy was behind me. “Perc, what are you doing up?” I ask, folding my arms. Percy looked at my outfit. “You spray painted, didn’t you?” “Yea she did and I had to bail her out.” Axl put his hand on Percy’s shoulder.

“And if you don’t want to be grounded like your sister is going to be, you should be in bed. It’s three AM. Bed. Elijah Kaz. Now.” Axl demanded. Percy looked at me then at Axl and ran out of the room upstairs. “You and I are gonna talk about your punishment tomorrow morning. Until that, go to bed." Axl said pointing upstairs. I went upstairs to my room to see Reyna sleeping in my bed. “I put RyRy in your bed. She was crying like crazy for her Nico.” Percy said coming up from behind me. “She’s so little. Yet Mom gave her up.” “She probably doesn’t understand what’s going on. She probably thinks that Axl is her actual dad.” Percy nodded, agreeing with me. “Perc, go to bed I don’t want you to be in trouble with me.” I said. He nodded, hugged me and went to bed. I sighed walking to my closet and taking out one of Axl’s shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. I got out of my paint covered clothes and put on the shirt and shorts, throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper. I shifted Reyna over being careful not to wake her up and went underneath the blankets, pulling Reyna into my hold, kissed her head and relaxed, eventually falling asleep.

As of last week, It has been 2 years since I got adopted by my forever family.

To all those foster kids out there who have yet to find a place to call home: someday you will. It may not be soon. It may even take until after you’ve aged out of the system. But I believe that somewhere out there, you will find people who you can finally call family. Don’t give up hope. I love you.

Sincerely,

A kid who spent 7 years in foster care