#Gran Mama

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Have you seen Toshinori’s mom? 😭

anon i'm way ahead of you

[delfindakila]

NUESTRA SEÑORA DEL SANTÍSIMO ROSARIO, LA NAVAL DE MANILA La Gran Señora de Filipinas Prusisyon ng Lahat ng mga Prusisyon Ika-8 ng Oktubre, 2023 Lungsod Quezon

[cvbullshit]

This is based on a joke me and someone made about Rescue due to his pose in the first drawing of him lmao

Slightly requested but also of my own will

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA El Mundo di Oggi sabato, 19 ottobre 2024

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Witcher 3: 👍

Art Purveyor....bravo for asking to get the statue's testicles back. What happened to his shaft though.

[follia-pura5]

25 post!

[moonlightequin1]

✨ TWISTED WONDERLAND YUME/OC/SELF-SHIP FAN SURVEY 2024 RESULTS ✨

HAPPY 4TH ANNIVERSARY, TWST JP! 🎉

In January, I made a survey to find out who is the most popular character to yume/oc/self-ship with! And there was 1,244 responses!

So I will share the results as promised! Who are the most popular characters to yume with?! Let's find out!

⚠️ THIS POLL CONTAINS CHARACTERS THAT ARE CURRENTLY LIMITED TO TWST JP!!! If you are a TWST EN player, be aware of spoilers ⚠️

RANKING:

🥇 Malleus Draconia 🐉

Malleus won 1st place with 50.6% of votes!

🥈 Idia Shroud 💀

Idia won 2nd place with 32.5% of votes!

🥉 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

Azul won 3rd place with 32.3% of votes!

4. Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Leona got 4th place with 30.5% of votes!

5. Ace Trappola ♥️

Ace got 5th place with 27.9% of votes!

6. Vil Schoenheit 👑

Vil won 6th place with 24.8% of votes!

7. Floyd Leech 🦈

Floyd got 7th place with 24.7% of votes!

8. Jade Leech 🐬

Jade got 8th place with 24.6% of votes!

9. Deuce Spade ♠️

Deuce got 9th place with 24.1% of votes!

10. Lilia Vanrouge 🦇

Lilia got 10th place with 23.7% of votes!

11. Silver ⚔️

Silver got 11th place with 23.4% of votes!

12. Rook Hunt 🏹

Rook got 12th place with 22.3% of votes!

13. Riddle Rosehearts 🌹

Riddle got 13th place with 22.2% of votes!

14. Jamil Viper 🐍

Jamil got 14th place with 19.9% of votes!

15. Rollo Flamme 🔔

Rollo got 15th place with 19.5% of votes!

16. Sebek Zigvolt ⚡

Sebek got 16th place with 18.6% of votes!

17. Ruggie Bucchi 🍩

Ruggie got 17th place with 14.4% of votes!

18. Jack Howl 🐺

Jack got 18th place with 14.3% of votes!

19. Cater Diamond & Fellow Honest ♦️&🦊

Cater and Fellow are TIED for 19th place w/13.7% of votes!

20. Kalim Al-Asim ☀️

Kalim got 20th place w/13.6% of votes!

21. Divus Crewel ⚗️

Crewel got 21th place w/13.3% of votes!

22. Trey Clover ♣️

Trey got 22nd place w/12.8% of votes!

23. Epel Felmier 🍎

Epel got 23rd place w/12.5% of votes!

24. Chen'ya 🐈

Chen'ya got 24th place w/11% of votes!

25. Dire Crowley 🐦‍⬛🎭

Crowley got 25th place w/10.6% of votes!

26. Meleanor Draconia 🖤🐉👑

Meleanor got 26th place w/8.8% of votes!

27. Grim 🐱

Grim got 27th place w/7.7% of votes!

28. Ortho Shroud & Hirasaka Yuuka 🤖&🦐

Ortho and Yuuka are TIED w/7.2% of votes!

29. Neige LeBlanche ❄️

Neige got 29th place w/7.1% of votes!

30. Sam ☠️

Sam got 30th place w/6.4% of votes!

31. Baul Zigvolt 🐊

Baul got 31st place w/5.4% of votes!

32. Dilah Spade 💙

Dilah got 32nd place w/5.1% of votes!

33. Enma Yuuken 🦞

Yuuken got 33rd place w/4.8% of votes!

34. Mozus Trein & Najma Viper 📚&🐍

Trein and Najma TIED for this spot w/4% of votes!

35. Mito Yuuta 🦐

Yuuta got 35th place w/3.4% of votes!

36. Kuroki Yuuya 🦐

Yuuya got 36th place w/3.2% of votes!

37. Knight of Dawn 🌄🗡️

Knight of Dawn got 37th place w/2.5% of votes!

38. Gidel 🐱🔨

Gidel got 38th place w/2.1% of votes!

39. Mrs. Shroud 🩷

Mama Shroud got 39th place w/1.8% of votes!

40. Ashton Vargas & Cheka 💪🫎&🧶

Vargas and Cheka tied w/1.6% of votes!

41. Mr. Shroud 💙

Papa Shroud got 41st place w/1% of votes!

42. Marja Felmier 🍏

Meemaw got 42nd place w/0.9% of votes!

43. Ambrose the 63rd 🧙‍♂️

Ambrose got 43rd place w/0.6% of votes!

44. Kifaji 🪶

Kifaji got 44th place w/0.5% of votes!

45. The Seven Dwarfs 🪄

Dominic and Gran had 3 votes, but statistics state that they got 0.2% of votes along w/Hop, Shelpy, Toby, Timmy, and Snick!

And lastly...

46. King Henric/Henry 👑

Henric got last place w/0.1% of vote(s)

*he only got one vote but I wonder who the voter was...? 👀✨*

I was planning to share all the responses to the last question but....I got over 1,244 responses! I read many of your wonderful responses about your OC/Yume/Self-ships and how you ended up doing it for your OSHIS!

This was a fun project! Thank you all so much for joining this survey!

In less than THREE months, this got over 1,244 responses and it was great! I can see that TWST EN's fanbase is HUGE on Malleus and I'm honestly amazed by how different it is to the JP side!

I'll say this once again: Happy Anniversary everyone!! And I hope you all have a fantastic day/afternoon/evening/night!! 🎉🎊

I hope we all continue twisting and having great experiences with Twisted Wonderland! If you want to see the rest of the statistics, you can see it on my Twitter!

https://twitter.com/MoonlightEquin1/status/1769566912680431788?t=Q3BvhDRYLkR3kcL8yeShug&s=19

[gingiesworld]

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings : Slight smut. Angst. Fluff. Afab! Reader

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff

18+ MINORS DNI

The snow was starting to come down, growing heavier by the minute that passed. Wanda was a panting mess beneath Y/N as they thrust the silicone toy into her aching core.

“I’m gonna…” Wanda screamed as she came down from her high. What only started as a movie marathon turned into something much more.

“Are you ok?” Y/N asked once she had calmed down, all Wanda could do was nod before she looked over at the clock.

“Shit.” She pushed Y/N away from her, scrambling to get her clothes on as Y/N threw on their own. “He is going to be pissed.”

“Come on Wanda, he’ll understand.” They told her as Wanda fixed her hair with her fingers.

“He doesn’t know. No one knows about this.” She told them. “Pietro is cooking dinner and my parents are going to be there.” She looked at her phone, seeing multiple missed calls from her twin. “Fuck.”

“Hey, you can’t leave.” They told her, moving closer as she tried to make sure she had everything.

“This was never meant to happen.” Wanda whispered. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“Hey. It’s ok, just give him a call.” They told her as she looked out of the window.

“I won’t be able to get a cab, not in that.” Wanda told them as they gave her a gentle smile, although their heart broke piece by piece everytime she left.

“Stay here.” They tried as Wanda shook her head.

“You know why I can’t.” She whispered as she squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m sorry.” She started for the door as Y/N remained in their spot, frozen and nervous about what they were going to do.

“I am in love with you Wanda.” They told her, causing Wanda to stop. “I have been for a while now and since then, everytime you walk out through that door breaks my heart, little by little.” She took a shaky breath before she turned to face them. “Please stay here, it’s too cold and dangerous out there.”

“But my family?” She whispered as a tear fell.

“They will understand, your safety will be their first priority.” They stood before her, wiping her tears away before Wanda gazed into their eyes.

“I am in love with you too.” She whispered before Y/N placed a tender kiss on her lips. Y/N led her to their room, urging her to get out of her jeans and into something comfier as they prepared dinner.

“My god Wanda! I have been so worried!!” Her twin exclaimed as he answered the phone.

“I’m ok. I am stuck at Y/N’s.” She informed them. “There’s no cab available and well, it’s not going to be a nice walk.”

“As long as you’re safe. I honestly thought about calling around the local hospitals just in case.” He told her.

“You’re such a mom.” She teased him as he chuckled.

“Well, mama and papa will be here until New Year, so maybe you might be able to make it before they leave.” He suggested as she hummed a yes. “Maybe you can bring Y/N too.” He teased her as she swore at him before the two bid their goodbyes.

“My Gran’s famous sloppy soup.” Y/N exclaimed as Wanda smiled as they brought the bowls in on a tray.

“I’ve missed her soup.” Wanda told them.

“I’ve been meaning to cook it but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, until now.” They told her as the two sat side by side, an old christmas movie playing on the TV as they both conversed about the simple things. Both finally happy to have everything out in the open and honest with each other.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 10: The House Of Saint Honoratus of Amiens] [Series Finale]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, weddings, Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, Rice-A-Roni.

Word Count: 6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @bungalowbear @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Thank you so much for loving this strange, sexy, sweet story. I hope you enjoy the finale. 🥰🧁

Your bare feet in warm grass, your hands around the ropes of the tree swing, no sounds except the ancient psalms of the earth: cicadas, mourning doves, goldfinches, bumble bees, bullfrogs, wind in the leaves of the dogwoods and southern live oaks. The adolescent alligator is at one end of the front yard, sunbathing up by the mouth of the gravel driveway; in the opposite corner are several nutria nibbling on cattails. The sky is a calm, cloudless blue. It’s hot, mid-80s, even when 5:00 p.m. comes and goes; but the breeze is cool as it evaporates the sweat from your temples, your palms, the nape of your neck. It’s as close as Louisiana ever gets to Heaven. It’s a good day for a wedding.

You remember thinking that it was the end of the world when you found out you were pregnant almost exactly eleven years ago, and then again when you realized you would have to divorce Willis, and so you have lived through enough moments like this—these quiet, infinitesimal apocalypses—to know that there will be a future beyond Aemond marrying Christabel. The sun will rise tomorrow, and then it will set, the lightning bugs will appear and the stars will tell myths in the night sky, and the phone will ring as orders come in for the bakery, and Cadi will be back in her bedroom playing her Nintendo, and life will roll on like currents through the bayou: slow, opaque, inevitable. The world isn’t ending, you know that. It’s just full of beautiful things that aren’t for you.

Out on Route 401, a Plymouth Gran Fury zooms by the house, squeals to a halt, and then reverses until Willis can take another look, squinting through his tinted windows. He turns down the driveway and steps out into golden July daylight. He doesn’t pay any attention to the gator as he strides past her. He belongs here, in a place that is old and strange and savage and full of beasts. You have carved out a home for yourself in the swamplands; Willis was born with veins like the roots of a mangrove tree and ancient silt instead of marrow in his bones.

“Hey, sugar,” he says, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. The wind ruffles the dark curls of his mullet, the bumble bees flee as he tramples clovers. “Ain’t ya supposed to be at the weddin’?”

“I’m sick.” A lie. “But Cadi’s fine, she’s with Amir. She was so excited she actually wore one of the sundresses my mom bought her and had Amir braid a dogwood flower into her hair to match his. You should have seen it. You would’ve been so proud.”

“I’m always proud of her,” Willis says, smiling. And then: “Ya don’t look sick.”

“I am.”

“Ya got one of your headaches?”

You pause. You don’t, but this is a convenient excuse. “Yeah.”

Willis stalls, his hands on his belt. His pistol is there; you remember how he used it in the bayou, how he helped save your life. But he wasn’t the one who jumped into the water. Aemond was willing to risk his body for me, but not his soul. What kind of sense does that make? “Ya had me scared for a minute there,” Willis says.

“What? When?”

“When I thought ya were goin’ to end up with that Rockefeller boy.”

“Aemond?” you say, like it’s so shocking. “No. Absolutely not. It’s impossible.”

“And why’s that?”

You stare into the trees so Willis can’t see the tears welling up in your eyes, the tension in your throat as embers kindle there, pulsing with heat that could char flesh to the bone. “He can’t marry someone like me.”

“I could,” Willis replies, grinning. You glare at him until he recants. “Alright, alright, oublie ça. Pardonne-moi.”

“Why would you be afraid of me and Aemond being together?”

“An oil tycoon? A millionaire? He would never stay here for long. In a town like Napoleonville? Soon as he was done getting’ those rigs up and runnin’, he’d go jettin’ off to some other corner of the world, and he’d take you with him. And Cadi too. I wouldn’t be able to fight that. What’s a parish sheriff to a Targaryen? Who would listen to me? Cadi would be gone and I’d never get her back. It would kill me. It would rip the heart right outta my chest.”

You look up at Willis from where you sit on the tree swing, the soles of your feet colored with soil and grass. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” he asks, perhaps suspicious, perhaps hopeful.

“No,” you promise. “Cadi loves you. Cadi needs you to be in her life. I would never try to take her away from you, Willis.”

He nods; he seems to believe you. And something relaxes in him, like there’s been a tension in the lines of his spine and shoulders that you didn’t notice for years. “I’m sorry about your petit ami.”

“Yeah. Me too.” It comes out like a whisper, brittle and frail. “I’m sorry about Lake Verret.”

“They might be able to fix it. Talk around town is they got some kind of desalination”—he says this with each syllable enunciated distinctly, like he’s put great effort into memorizing it—“process that can take the salt back outta the water. And if that don’t work…” He shrugs with a sly smile. “I’ll survive somehow. The world’s a big place. There’s always another lake.”

You consider him, and you remember—like a dream from the night before that just returned to you—how Willis can be unexpectedly deep, randomly tender. “They should put that on bumper stickers.”

He chuckles and waves as he heads back to his car. “I’ll pick Cadi up on Tuesday. Back to the usual schedule.”

“Sure.” Back to real life. Back to before I met Aemond. And you find yourself wishing that you could forget what it had felt like to be with him; the absence he left feels so much heavier than the nonspecific longing that existed before. Willis’ Plymouth Gran Fury rolls out of the driveway, and you stay precisely where you are on the tree swing, absentmindedly pushing yourself back and forth with your tiptoes and trying to believe that tomorrow this will feel easier, and then even easier the day after that, and eventually it will cease to be anything but a vague recollection, a relic in a rarely-opened drawer, a whisper, an echo. One day, you will stop missing Aemond. One day, you will stop wondering whether a sliver of his life would have been better than none at all.

Inside what Cadi calls the Fall-Down House, the phone rings. You ignore it; if it’s an order for the bakery, they can leave a message. But then it rings again, and again, and you have to answer it. What if your mother had a heart attack? What if Cadi and Amir were in a car accident? You hurry to the kitchen and grab the phone, pink to match the little Panasonic boombox that is presently silent.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiiiii,” Amir says, slow and something else too. Disoriented? Evasive?

Your forehead wrinkles with confusion. “Where are you calling from?” There are definitely no phonelines running to the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens, a tiny brick-and-stucco edifice built in the 1830s.

“I’m at a McDonald’s up the road. I’ve paid them $5 to let me use the phone.” And then, because he knows it’s the first place your mind will go: “Cadi’s fine. She’s eating Chicken McNuggets. Everyone’s fine.”

“Okay…?”

“I think you should come over here.”

“What, to the chapel?!”

“Yeah.” He’s talking to someone; you can hear an indistinct tangle of voices through the hand he undoubtedly has clasped over the transmitter.

I can’t see Aemond. I can’t see Christabel. There is a lurching in your guts; you are a fish that swallowed a hook. “I thought we agreed that I wasn’t going to go to the wedding.” I can’t handle it. It might kill me.

“Yes, we did, but now…um…I think you will want to make an appearance.”

“Amir, what happened?”

There is more muffled conversation on the other end of the line. “Look,” he tells you. “Things, uh…things are…occurring. And I think it would be better to explain in person.”

“Did you drop the cake?”

“No,” he says, defensive. “The cake is perfect, thank you for your concern. Not a single frosting wildflower was mutilated in the delivery.”

“Then why—?”

“Do you trust me?” Amir asks.

The answer is obvious. Of course. More than anyone. “You know I do.”

“Then go get in your car.”

You glance at the clock on the wall. “Okay, but you know it’s going to take me like 40 minutes to drive to Belle River.”

“That’s fine.” He confers with someone else. “Yeah, that’s good actually, that will work.”

“Great,” you say uncertainly.

“See you soon!” Then Amir hangs up, leaving you alone in the creaks and groans of your ailing house.

You take Route 70 around Lake Verret, gliding past fields of soybeans and sugarcane, paddocks of cattle and horses, marshes of cordgrass occupied by blue herons and white egrets and prowling alligators, stirring awake as the sun begins its descent into the west. More than once, you notice that your Chevy Celebrity’s odometer reports you are travelling well below the speed limit. You aren’t in any hurry to reach the chapel; you don’t want to carry the weight of what you will see there, Christabel in her wedding dress, Aemond in his suit, Alicent anxiously fidgeting and gnawing at her fingernails, Viserys parading around triumphantly. You can’t imagine that there is anything less than torturous for you there. You don’t remember what you’re wearing until you reach Belle River, a small, old town full of double-wide trailers and jetties that run far out into the lake: a simple cotton sundress you threw on this morning without much thought, modest but white and therefore forbidden for a wedding guest. The sky is turning from a sun-drenched cerulean blue to something more soft, more muted, as dusk lurks just a few hours away. The radio is playing Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car.

The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens was built by a man in extremis. An acclaimed mason by trade, he had been born in France and settled in the New World in Louisiana when it was still in the possession of Napoleon. The mason had a wife and children—some people say 5, others say 8 or 10, though details always seem to grow more elaborate in the retelling, don’t they?—and he loved them dearly. But tragedy struck when every single member of the family, except for the mason himself, fell ill with tuberculosis. When healers of the earth failed to offer sufficient remedies, the mason appealed to a higher power. He built the chapel to implore Honoratus of Amiens, his wife’s favorite saint—she was a baker and a florist, both professions that Honoratus presides over—to intercede with the Almighty on their behalf. This effort proved futile, and as each member of the family died, the mason interred them in a brick vault beneath the altar where they would spend eternity together. Perhaps this makes for a peculiar wedding venue, yet for over a century couples rich and poor, religious and secular have traveled to the chapel to exchange their vows. Perhaps there are few things more romantic than loving someone in the face of total futility: illness, distance, unrequitedness, prohibitions, death.

The chapel sits in a clearing surrounded by live oak trees, massive, hundreds of years old, hanging with Spanish moss, blotting out the sunlight as aisles cascade through gaps in the leaves. As you park in the grass—joining an army of Lexuses, Audis, limousines, Porsches, Ferraris, Cadillacs, Aston Martins, Alfa Romeos, and Amir’s blue Ford Escort—you observe that there are perhaps fifty guests in formal attire milling aimlessly around the building. You peer down at your white sundress, frowning. Well, I can’t go naked. The faux pas will have to be forgiven. You step out of your Chevy Celebrity and make your way across the clearing towards the chapel.

There is a long table set up in the shade with a tower of champagne glasses, an ice sculpture of a dragon, and the banana bread cake you and Amir baked for the wedding. Grim-faced servants in black suits are cutting slices and handing them out to guests on green china plates. You recognize Aegon’s wife Stephanie chatting with a flock of young women in extravagant gowns, golds and emeralds and sapphires. Helaena is among them, wearing a shimmering blue-green color like the scales of her chameleon Dreamfyre. Evidently, the Targaryens’ exotic pets have been left at the mansion for this excursion.

“Well,” the princess of Monaco says sardonically as she takes a bite, the white cream cheese frosting covered with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers. “At least the cake is good. What is this, banana? Whoever heard of a banana wedding cake? I mean, it’s delicious, but still. I knew that Christabel girl was daft. Did you see her positively absurd dress? It looks like children doodled all over it…”

Is it over? you think as you weave through the crowd, largely unnoticed. Is the ceremony done already? Why would Aemond want to see me? To try to convince me to be his mistress one last time? To show me what I’m missing by severing ties with him?

But no: something else has happened. Viserys and Christabel’s father the marquess are embroiled in a heated argument; a nun and two priests are trying to haul them apart.

“You’re dead to me, Viserys!” the marquess roars. “And you’ll be dead to everyone back home once I tell them what you’ve done!”

“I did my part! This has nothing to do with me! Wait…wait…we can figure something else out! Wait! Wait! You can have Daeron!”

Wedding guests are gawking and snapping photos with their polaroid cameras. Upon hearing his name, Daeron glances over towards his father wearily. Alicent’s youngest son is kneeling beside where she has collapsed to the grass, patting her encouragingly on the shoulder as she sobs into a green cloth handkerchief. Criston is there too, trying to soothe her with sympathetic murmurs and a flute of pink champagne glittering with bubbles of carbonation.

“How did this happen?” she wails, peering up at Criston with her vast, dark, glassy eyes. The gold rings on her fingers clang and glint; they match the single hoop earring that Criston wears. Alicent’s gown is purple like royalty, but Criston is dressed in a suit of pale pink; it’s the exact same one Daeron has on. Groomsmen? you wonder. “He knows better than this! We raised him better than this!”

You think, stunned and petrified: Aemond, what the hell did you do?

As you approach the chapel, you note that it appears empty inside; you don’t spot anyone in the pews. Somewhere, a boombox is thundering Higher Love. At the entrance of the building, Christabel is sitting on the brick walkway in her wedding dress. It’s the one you told her to choose: elegant and timeless, long train and short flowing sleeves, silk wildflowers sewn into the white lace. Her bouquet is lying forgotten on the ground beside her. Her lips are a deep, lovely pink; her eyeshadow is gold. She’s smoking, something you’ve never seen her do before. There is a half-crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter in her left hand, a single lit cigarette in her right.

“Um, hi, Christabel,” you say. And then, something equally brainless: “Is everything okay?”

“I should have known.” She’s staring out at the crowd, not at you. Her large blue eyes are dull, vacant.

“You should have known what?” Your heart is in your throat; blood pounds in your ears like the hooves of a racehorse.

“That he didn’t care,” she says listlessly. “I could tell that he didn’t. I could feel it. But I didn’t want it to be true, so I told myself it wasn’t. Isn’t that interesting? How we can lie to ourselves? Not that it was entirely my error. Other people meddled plenty. ‘Oh no, Christabel.’ ‘He’s just emotionally stunted, Christabel.’ ‘He’s busy with work, Christabel.’ What man is too busy with work to handle a five-minute phone call? It’s not like he was on the moon. He could have made time if he wanted to. I bet he made lots of time for you.”

“Uh.” You try to decide what to say. “I broke up with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t want to be his mistress. I didn’t think that was fair to you.” Or me, obviously, but right now doesn’t seem to be the opportune time to voice my own grievances.

“Next time, I’m going to choose who I marry,” Christabel insists, puffing on her cigarette. “He has to talk to me. He has to like me.”

Aemond called it off? What did he say? What is he going to do now? “Christabel…do you know where Aemond is? Or Amir and Cadi?”

“Alicent is so upset,” she says instead. “Poor woman. She’s sweet, in her own way. But I don’t want to end up like her.” Christabel holds up the pack of Marlboros and the lighter. “She feels guilty, I think. She gave me these. She had them in her purse, she has so many neurotic little habits, doesn’t she? It’s not very ladylike to smoke, but it’s not ladylike to get left at the altar either, so fuck it.”

You ask, afraid to know the answer: “Do you hate me? I didn’t know Aemond was engaged when I met him. And then…” Why lie now? What’s the point? “Then I was in love with him and it was kind of…too late to try not to be. But I’m sorry.”

“I don’t hate you,” Christabel replies immediately. “I know he would never be allowed to marry…someone like you. Your options were limited.”

You don’t know if this is meant to be an insult or not. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think I ever loved him either,” Christabel realizes, exhaling smoke. “I think I idolized him. I think I loved my fantasy of what our marriage would be like. But I didn’t love Aemond. I didn’t even know Aemond. You did, I suspect. Good luck with him. He’s a bit…complex.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, rather compulsively. You aren’t sure what she expects from you. Abruptly, from wherever it’s coming from, Higher Love is cut off. “So, is Aemond, like…around, or…?”

“I don’t regret the sex part.”

“Okay.” You examine the crowd in the clearing again. You still don’t see Aemond.

“That went well,” Christabel muses. “I’m glad my first time is over and done with. I was terrified it would hurt like hell. And so few people know, so it’s almost like it never happened, right?”

“Right,” you say obediently.

“I think I’ll have a new rule. I won’t marry anyone unless he likes me and we sleep together first. Life is too long to spend it with the wrong person, don’t you agree?”

“I totally do.”

“He’s waiting for you inside,” Christabel says, flicking ashes towards the gaping doorway of the chapel.

“Really?” you peer into the shadows; there is indeed a solitary figure standing at the altar. “So…what exactly is happening…?”

“Go,” Christabel urges, and takes a drag on her cigarette. You leave her and cross through the doorway into the chapel.

The light is dim and gentle; fading sunbeams slant in through the glass of the cathedral-style windows. The mason’s inspiration was Gothic architecture, imposing, cavernous. Two candlelit iron chandeliers hang from the high ceiling; the floor is made of tiles of black and white marble. Small stone sculptures of angels watch over their realm like benevolent gargoyles. There is a single stained glass window above the altar: circular like a ring, red and gold like the sun.

He’s waiting for you in a pale pink suit, long disheveled hair, thin mustache with flecks of white powder in it, mischievous smirk. “Hey cake lady,” Aegon says.

“Um. I’m not marrying you.”

“No, you’re definitely not.” Aegon offers you his hand and you take it with some hesitation. “I’m here to be your guide. Just like on the Oregon Trail.”

“What…?”

“Let’s go.” He pulls you out of the chapel, past where Christabel is still sitting at the entranceway, and across the clearing towards the trees. When you look to the crowd, Otto is elbowing his way through disgruntled guests towards a limousine, already idling.

Viserys bellows at him: “Where the hell are you going?!”

“Back to Kiribati!” Otto shouts back, not breaking his stride. He vanishes into the limo.

“Hurry,” Aegon says. He leads you into the forest, a thick canopy of verdant leaves and Spanish moss and the narrow rays of sunshine that tumble down through the gaps.

“Aegon, I don’t think we should be in the woods, it could be dangerous—”

“No, this part is fine. We already checked.”

“Who’s ‘we’?!” You’re wearing flip flops that catch on gnarled roots; the shrieking of cicadas grows loud. One of them buzzes towards Aegon and he screams as he backhands it away.

“You good?” Amir’s voice calls from farther within the trees.

“Yeah. I’m fine. We made it.”

You turn to Aegon. “What’s going on—?”

Suddenly, there is booming music that startles you: “Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth! They say in Heaven, love comes first, we’ll make Heaven a place on Earth! Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth!”

“Aegon, what is that?”

“Uh, I think it’s Heaven Is A Place On Earth.”

“Yes, okay, but why?”

“Ask that guy.” You round a thicket and there under a colossal southern live oak tree, surrounded by hundred-year-old branches that twist down to the earth, is Aemond; but he’s not looking at you. He and Cadi are lighting the last of the candles. She picks them up, he ignites the wick with the same lighter he uses to smoke his Marlboros, and then Cadi places them back on the ground or on top of a branch. Amir is standing by the large black boombox, the same one Aegon always listens to by the Targaryens’ pool. Amir grins craftily, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. His suit is orange, the single dogwood flower in his hair white.

“Did we get them all?” Aemond asks Cadi.

“Yeah, I think so. Wait, no, there’s one over there!” Cadi darts to it and Aemond lights the candle, then spins around and sees you. He smiles. “Hi, Cupcake.”

“Hi,” you say, so shellshocked you can’t form any of your very vital questions.

“Okay, so we have the candles,” Aemond informs you as Cadi and Aegon go to join Amir. “White with wildflower patterns.” And you recall how Alicent mentioned needing to pick out candles with Christabel, and how you didn’t see any scattered around the chapel. They brought them here. They did it for me. “And we have some actual wildflowers.” He takes the boutonniere off the lapel of his white suit and tucks it into your hair behind your left ear. “And we have Heaven Is A Place On Earth.” He gestures to the boombox. “And I think those were the three things you said you wanted if you were ever going to get married again.”

I did say that. Just once, months ago, the first time he ever came over, the first time he ever touched me. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered.” He takes both of your hands in his own. Amir lets out a little squeal and covers his mouth as his eyes begin to glisten. Aemond takes a deep breath. “So, I don’t have a speech, because this is very last-minute. I mean extremely last-minute. But you were right about everything. And I realized I couldn’t live that way. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me, but it wouldn’t be fair to Christabel either. So I broke it off.”

“Literally at the altar,” Aegon says. “In front of everybody. It was so fucking awkward.”

“Those are not necessary details!” Aemond snaps, then looks back to you and is smiling again. “I know what I want. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known you. But I wasn’t a strong enough person to make it happen. I’m so sorry. I should have done things differently. I can’t change the past. But everything is going to be different now.”

You gaze up at him as Belinda Carlisle sings, thinking: This can’t be real. I’m going to wake up now.

“On the night we met, you told me you’d never felt chosen,” Aemond says. “I’m choosing you. And, you know.” He nods to her. “Cadi too. And Amir. And the bakery. And dealing with Willis too, I guess. All of it. I’m choosing you and your whole life and that’s exactly where I want to be.”

You can feel the warmth in your face, beaming and hopeful and full of possibilities. Under the shade of the southern live oak, the first lightning bugs are blooming in the air like stars. “What about your family?”

“I’ll figure it out. I don’t think my father can entirely disown me…turns out I’m the only one who understands how the stock market works. But no matter what, you and Cadi are the priority. And my father will have to learn to live with that.”

“Or he can drop dead,” Aegon says. “Whichever.”

It’s possible? We can be together? Not just for a night, an afternoon, a stolen moment, but forever?

“I said I don’t have a speech.” Aemond tells you. His right eye is bright, elated, gleaming like a mirror. “I don’t have a ring either. But I’m going to get you one, if you’ll let me. So I’m asking you, Cupcake: Will you marry me?”

“Say yes, Mom!” Cadi yells, and Amir bursts out laughing.

“Say yes, cake lady!” Aegon adds. “Unlimited Cap’n Crunch Treats!”

When am I going to wake up? When is this going to end?

But it’s not a dream. It’s real. And Aemond reads the answer on your face before you can say it, and so it’s only a murmur as he kisses you, a whisper, a prayer: “Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you drive from the new house all the way to San Francisco; you still call it the new house, even though you’ve owned it for a full year. The journey takes seven days, with overnight stops in Dallas, Wonderland Amusement Park in Amarillo, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Las Vegas, and Bakersfield. Aemond sold his Audi Quattro and replaced it with a Dodge Caravan. It’s July 1989, and Tom Petty’s brand new single Runnin’ Down A Dream is strumming from the radio. It’s always temperate in San Fran, in the 60s even at the height of summer. The sky is overcast and grey. When Cadi complains that she’s cold despite the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles hoodie you packed for her, Aemond gives her his Marlboro jacket.

Amir, his boyfriend, and two other roommates share a sunshine yellow Italianate townhouse in the Castro District. Aemond parks his wood-paneled Caravan on the steep, inclined street—he narrowly misses colliding with a whooshing cable car, which he blames on poor depth perception—and then helps you carry the luggage inside. There are no alligators on the front porch, but there are neighborhood cats that Amir puts out Friskies for; there are no screaming cicadas, but there are swooping seagulls and the melodies of sidewalk musicians. When Amir opens the door, he nearly tackles you with enthusiasm. He still wears his loud colors and short shorts, but he’s traded in the dogwood flowers he once wove into his hair for dahlias.

Amir’s boyfriend is named Don, but everyone calls him Donald Schwarzenegger because he looks so much like the Austrian bodybuilder turned actor. When Amir first arrived in the city, he got a job as a cake decorator for a very popular bakery, and quickly segued into handling much of their marketing as well. He’s thinking of getting a degree in advertising and trying his luck in corporate America. You very much enjoy teasing him for being a sellout; what would socialist Bayard Rustin say?

“Call your Daddy and let him know we made it safely to the West Coast,” you tell Cadi once her things are unpacked in the guest room she’ll get all to herself; you and Aemond are consigned to the living room futon. Cadi chats with Willis for a while, then says he wants to talk to you. You take the phone, slightly concerned; you hope nothing is amiss with the house. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with this horse?” he demands. “That ain’t no pet. That’s a demon. It’s a goddamn Rougarou.”

“I told you not to try to touch him,” you say, amused.

“I feed him and water him, don’t I? Ain’t that the least he can do? Lettin’ me scratch his big ol’ idiot head?”

“Patches is not very well-behaved. But Cadi loves him.”

“And don’t even get me started on the dog. Ugliest fuckin’ dog I ever saw. Growls every time I show up. Shows its teeth and everythin’. I’d take twenty gators over that son of a bitch any day.”

“Vhagar is a girl,” you say. “Thanks for watching them while we’re out of town.”

“Sure thing, sugar. Although I still don’t understand why the bon a rien can’t do it.”

“Aegon isn’t always…reliable.” But he does seem to be improving. He’s cut back to mostly just booze and marijuana, because otherwise he and Sunfyre aren't allowed to stay at the new house for sleepovers. There’s a guest bedroom, but Aegon prefers the sunken conversation pit in the mauve pink living room. He likes to be where anyone can stumble across him if they wake up in the middle of the night for pancakes or ice cream. He likes to be where people are; he likes to be included. “Anyway, I gotta go. Cadi will call again tomorrow. Enjoy your fishing.”

“Will do. Maybe I’ll toss your accursed animals in as bait.” Lake Verret is still a bit too brackish for a proper freshwater lake, but that’s changing gradually with Daeron’s desalination efforts and a subaquatic plug affixed to the opening of the breached salt dome. He views it as a pioneering experiment in reversing such drilling accidents, potentially for application globally. Now there are more bass and lampreys and catfish, and less breams and gars, but life goes on in Napoleonville’s 14,000-acre lake. Daeron has replaced Aemond as Viserys’ heir apparent, and he is thriving in the role. He is bookish yet empathetic, focused but never ruthless. Furthermore, he happens to be genuinely in love with his aristocratic fiancée: Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

Aemond was right; Viserys didn’t disown him, but he did fire him, ban him from the mansion, and reduce his available funds to a modest living stipend. Fortunately, Viserys has a very limited comprehension of how money works for normal people, and he considers $200,000 per year to be “modest.” With that plus your bakery earnings and a paid-off house, you, Cadi, and Aemond will be living comfortably for the remainder of your lives. Also fortunately, no one else will enforce the no-Aemond rule at The Last Desire, so anytime Viserys is out of town—which is far more often than not—you get to visit the Targaryens at the mansion as much as you please. Cadi loves the water slide and the koi pond. She’s named the fish after Greek deities, her latest obsession: Zeus, Narcissus, Athena, Dionysus, Artemis, Apollo, Echo. Viserys will not acknowledge you, but the rest of the family is polite enough now that the drama of the broken engagement has blown over. When you finish the cookbook of Southern baked goods that you’ve been working on, Alicent had pledged to mail copies to all her friends and relatives back in the U.K. Otto has offered to take a box of them with him next time he jets off for Kiribati; the wealthy housewives marooned in paradise are always on the hunt for new reading material.

On your first night in San Francisco, Amir serves a dinner of cioppino, sourdough bread, and (not homemade) Rice-A-Roni. You provide dessert, a recipe you’re still perfecting: Saint Honoratus cake, a pastry that dates back to Paris in the 1800s. You want to be able to include it in your cookbook, along with photographs from your wedding in the chapel this past May, almost exactly a year from when you and Aemond first met. Your engagement ring has a gold band and pink diamonds arranged to resemble a rockrose, a dauntless little wildflower native to Aemond’s ancestral homeland of Greece. For over a decade you have loved that wildflowers are grown and not bought, small but tenacious, humble yet untamed. They do not wait for other hands to tell them where and how to grow. They are the architects of their own fortune.

When everyone is finished with dessert and gathers around the tv to watch The Golden Girls, Aemond says he’s going outside for a smoke break; but you know he’s trying to quit. You follow him into the small backyard and as soon as your bare feet touch the grass, he’s pushed you against the wall of the house, forced your thighs apart, slipped his hand down the front of your shorts as he watches the amazed, electrified desire rise in your face like heat from a stove. “It’s been a week, and I need you,” Aemond murmurs, his lips ghosting across your throat, his hips braced insistently against yours, and then he kisses you to stifle your moans as you bury your fingers in his hair, to swallow down the vicarious ecstasy of every wondrous thing he’s ever done to you and ever will. “I don’t even need you to get me off. I just need to see you like this.”

Trusting him, wanting him, letting him make me come.

Aemond has been accepted into UC Berkeley’s History PhD program and will start there at the end of August. He wants to write books about underrecognized heroes, extraordinary and yet unassuming people like Bayard Rustin and Bobbi Campbell and Phillis Wheatley. You’ll miss him of course, but there will be breaks for holidays and summers when he can return to Napoleonville, and you can fly out to visit him too, and there are phone calls, and postcards, and one day you’ll be able to go anywhere together—

You gasp, a shaky, starving breath, your lips grinning into Aemond’s. You’re close, you’re so close.

There is a shrill whistle from the back porch of a townhouse from the row behind Amir’s. “Get it, honey!” a man in a leopard-print robe cheers, waving the newspaper he’d been reading. You and Aemond unravel from each other, laughing hysterically.

“Okay,” you tell him, still panting. “Bad plan. We are clearly not accustomed to city life.”

“Tonight,” Aemond says, low and commanding. He returns to you, kissing the side of your face: temple, cheekbone, the curve of your jaw. His voice is dark, jagged glass; his lips are soft like kind dreams. “On the futon, on the floor, anywhere.”

You want it too, but you know the game. “No.”

He pins you to the wall again, powerful, irresistible, his hardness grinding against you through his jeans, everything about him—voice, flesh, rhythm, soul—promising you the peace only he has ever given you, proving that being at the right person’s mercy can make you free. “I’m in charge now. Let me take care of you.” And for a split second you almost beg: Just do it, Aemond, right now, please touch me again, I don’t care if a stranger sees. I want you now, I want you forever.

Instead you smile up at him, the whirls of your fingerprints skating harmlessly over his scarred left cheek as you answer: “Yes sir.”

[matcha-flavored-cake]

୧ ‧₊˚ 🥐 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

. warnings: mentions of death (Jefferson) and grief, grammar erros (english is not my first language).

. featuring: Miles Morales (e!42)

. wc: 1.4k

.a/n: if you see grammatical errors, or me saying something in Spanish wrong, please feel free to correct me. My Spanish is rusty as fuck

hcs for miles 1610 here

He listens to a lot of reggaeton, afrobeat, and R&B. C'mon guys, look at my face and say to me he doesn't, also he prob like old school rap too, thanks to uncle Aaron and his dad, Jefferson probably showed his some jazz

I feel like Mama Rio and Abuelita Gloria showed him some old Puerto Rican singers and he listens old songs from time to time, specially when his nana is visiting

This man knows mechanics. Period. Help his mom to fix things around the house, shower, the lights etc. Bet his 'son and dad' time involved something with fixing things around the house and Jefferson 'passing the knowledge ' to Miles

"Listen Miles, you're the man in the house when I'm not around got it?"

"'kay dad"

"When I'm not around you're responsible for your mom deal? Gotta make sure she's in good hands when I'm not around"

"I gotchu dad, don't worry"

Ok listen, I'm kicking my feet thinking about Miles tuning his uncle's Ducati (and prob Aaron has a Ducati Scrambler. I do not take criticism), while listening music I'm just *giggling like a schoolgirl*

Btw I feel like if Miles ever had a motorcycle for his personal use and not for Prowler activities, it would be a Kawasaki Ninja or a Yamaha XSR 900. For Prowler activity honestly, he would have a Hayabusa bc it's fast as fuck, with purple neon lights like his Prowler suit. you cannot argue with me. I feel like it was a way of him and his uncle spend time together before his dad died

Miles prob is always tinkering with the titanium claws and his paraphernalia. (I love this word btw)

So yeah prob hes always with his uncle doing shit on the motorcycle or his suit while listening music or sum, or practicing boxing together.

And I bet his mom slapped them two when she once arrived and saw Aaron teaching Miles how to pilot a bike

"What you're doing with my son Aaron!" *that one meme of a man slapping the player on the shoulder*

"Ouch ouch! I'm just teachin' the kid how to pilot Rio, I surrender I surrender!"

"¿Y tú? ¿Qué diablos está en tu mente, Miles? ¡Montando una motocicleta! What am I going to do with you Miles Gonzalo Morales?!"

"¡Cálmate mamá! Uncle Aaron was just teachin' me, no es gran cos- ouch! Mom that hurts!"

Speaking of which, Mama Rio has insane strength on her arms (being a nurse demand a lot of strength to carry patients, changing their clothes, helping them bathe and all), that being said, when Mama Rio get ✨la chancla✨ oh boy, run, no kidding, run

(Everytime my mom grabbed her havaianas I runned more than Usain Bolt. I still do honestly)

I have a feeling that Miles knows how to cook, like he always knew. Arroz con pollo? Bet, does it with eyes closed. Fancy meals? Oh boy he's probably the only guy that the women of the family let inside the kitchen to help with Christmas banquet.

He eat his veggies, hates wasting food, it's not a picky eater but don't put pickles on his burger for the love of God.

Bet his nana tried to give him a bit of coquito without his mom seeing. (I hc his nana is one of those old lady that are a menace to society)

"Take a sip don't worry, No one is watching"

"No nana I'm all good"

"¡Mamá! Take this away from Miles."

Since his dad passed away he understood quite early that now he is the man in the house, that now he's the one to take care of his mom. So he started paying more attention to the chores. His mom is on duty? He's putting some music and cleaning the house, changing the blankets of his mom's bed, and probably making something for her to eat when she come back.

Prob has his mom schedule on his phone to make sure he knows where she is so it wouldn't risk her seeing his as the Prowler and he can watch out from the buildings while Rio walks to her work

Sunday family lunch was usual at Miles' house, his dad 'helping' his mom with the food (he just looked and passed her the ingredients), while Miles set the table. Music on the radio, enjoying the day before Miles need to go back to Brooklyn Visions.

Prefer more salty foods than sweets. Likes eating steak, it doesn't matter if it's BBQ or carne assada, he likes meat. For sweets, he's obsessed with the way his mom does Tembleque (sorry Abuelita Gloria)

We know his room is quite similar to 1610 Miles, but I feel like he doesn't have as many toys as 1610 Miles does. He sold some and used the money to help his mom somehow, he just doesn't want to be a burden for her.

I feel like he doesn't give his mom the money, he straight up pays the bill, or does groceries, so there's no way his mom can deny it. That or he gives the money to his uncle and they pretend that it is Aaron helping them.

It's confirmed by the artbook that Miles Prowler is a vigilante. That being said I think he decided to be the Prowler to help his place somehow, maybe even to make his dad proud, and to make his mom's life easier (just imagine the amount of people that get in the hospital because of how dangerous is the city now my god).

His mom is the priority in his life, he loves his family, his neighborhood and his friends. He's a kind soul with a shattered heart.

Miles is a quite good student. Not the '🤓☝️ actually that's happened at 09:12 in 1786…' type of smart, but the fast thinking kind of smart student. If he doesn't remember the formula he uses logical thinking. Prob takes classes ahead of his years and since he's always tinkering with his uncle his grades in calculus related stuff are pretty high.

Very good with Spanish by the way. Since his dad passed away he started learning more and more to speak with his mom in her native language to make her feel more 'at home' somehow.

I feel like in the first week after his dad passed away he slept in his house for some time and not in Brooklyn Visions dorms, he wished to be with his mom. He did not want her to be alone on her bed, mourning hi dad's death. Abuelita Gloria stayed some months with them too to help her daughter and to help Miles

Miles do his best to be organized, make his bed everyday after waking up, his cabinet is always organized, his Jordans are clean and probably have a collection of them on a shelf in his room. The only messy place on his room is his desk

Has a vinyl collection, don't argue with me. There's literally a bunch of vinyls in his room, guys.

Has some old Puerto Rican singers vinyls on his room thanks to Abuelita Gloria

Miles sings a bit, and have quite a melodic baritone voice. For my synesthetic friends, his voice sounds like honey, Miles is most of times humming when he's making upgrades on his claws

He's more athletic than 1610 Miles. Parkour, boxing and playing basketball with his neighbors and uncle

Started parkour because of his prowler activities to keep up with his uncle, same with boxing, after all he needed to defend himself and his mom. I don't doubt he knows krav maga too and I also don't doubt he taught his mom self defense.

Bought his mom a self defense kit

Uncle Aaron teached him forbidden movements in jiu jitsu, I take zero criticism on that one

Miles has a hard time sleeping sometimes, doesn't shift much when sleeping and has a knife under his pillow or something both in his house room and in Brooklyn Visions.

Loves, love, loves kids, as i said he's a kind soul with a shattered heart, and I think he's quite good with kids, and scares the shit of some at the same time.

I feel 'angry painter' vibes from him. He sketches and all but I feel like he's more of a painter and graffiti kind of guy. I do think he knows how to play bass or piano btw

Would get piercings on his ear and tongue, yes. But since he's the Prowler it would be troublesome because of the time that takes to heal

The old ladies of the neighborhood love him, he's kind to them, and always scare away weird looking guys

Is the crush nextdoor of almost every girl on the neighborhood

One time he scared the shit out of a creep on his neighborhood. Punched the guy so bad that dislocate the man's jaw. Since then he need to hide himself on valentine day, the good part about it is that he got a lot of chocolate to eat.

Seems like a bad boy all the time but he's an introvert. Miles do his best to don't get attached to people bc he doesn't want to drag them into his world or risk people he loves

He just don't want see people dying anymore, that's why he does what he does, to make the world a little bit safe, even if it's just a bit

@matcha-flavored-cake © • do not copy, translate or use as your own

[uugaylol]

VOLVI

a photo that Big Mama has in her office

the three of them are children of Big mama

Tuve una idea, Gran mama adopto a April cuando era muy pequeña, y cuando sucede todo lo del laboratorio de Draxum, Lou Jitsu solo llega a llevarse a Raph y Mikey, quedando Donnie y Leo atras

Draxum, al haber quedado todo su laboratorio arruinado, hace un trato con Gran mama para que ella se quede a los gemelos, y ellos crecen junto con April, como hermanos, algo asi no creo desarrollarlo más lol

Should I translate this?

[wonderlandsakura]

DANI AND DAN'S PARENTS AND WHAT THEY CALL THEM

Danny: Dad, Father (mostly Dan)

Vlad: Papa, Папочка (Papachka) (Dad but Russian, originally to spite Vlad cause he wanted to be called father, became a softer heritage sharing thing)

Tucker: Baba, اب (Ab) (it's dad in Arabic)

Sam: Mom, Mama, אמא (Ema) (mom/mama in Hebrew)

---

Bonus Grandparents:

Jack: Gramps, Granddad

Maddie: Grandma, Grandmom

Sam's Father: Saba (grandfather in Hebrew)

Sam's Mother: Savta (grandmother in Hebrew)

Sam's Grandma: Great Grandma Ida

Tucker's Dad: Gramps, Grandpa

Tucker's Mom: Gran Gran, Nan

Clockwork: Clockpops, Grandpop, Pop Pop, Grandpappy

Pariah (Optional): Grandfather Dowager the Late Ex-King of the Infinite Realms (Grandfather for short), Grumpy

[shih-coulda-had-it]

3C with All Might mom, Gran Torino and Nana

do we think if mama yagi was still alive nana would still have given ofa to toshinori, or would nana pioneer the “how to tell the only present parent of your underage successor that their child can kick ass with this neat transferable strength stockpiling quirk” dialogue?

[marymary-diva17]

My little water bender

kataran and reader

The moon and ocean spirits had not only blessed you with a wonderful life in the southern water tribe. They had also given you a wonderful husband and two children as well. It seems like all your wishing to the spirts had finally been answered, and you love the life you have. Your daughter had become the third blessing in your life and blessing you love so dearly.

Y/n " should I make seaweed noddles, smoked arctic hen legs, or salmon jerky ... there many thing I could make"

????? " mom " you had heard your name getting called you soon saw katara running into the room.

y/n " hey sweetie now what you got in rush"

katara " mom I have you show you the cool new trick I have done"

y/n " sure honey show me"

katara " no mom I can't show you in here we have to go outside"

y/n " okay" katara soon grabbed your hands and soon walked you towards some water.

katara " you have to see what I can do mama it will be amazing"

y/n " okay" you had smiled as katara started moving her hands and arms around, as the water started moving. You had looked at her as she was water bending your daughter is a water bender, he had been able to make a small bubble of water.

katara " see mom I can do this I have never seen anyone do this before"

y/n " sweetie you are a water bender"

katara " waterbender"

y/n " yes sweetie water benders are people who can bend water into anyone, our sister nation has many of them you are water bender"

katara " yeah" katara had become very happy as she soon dropped the water, as she ran towards you making you smile.

hakoda " hey" you and katara soon saw hakoda and sokka coming home after a hunting trip.

katara " dad you need to see what I can do" katara had ran to her father with a bright smile on her face, she soon stood near a pile of snow and had waved her hands over it forming a snowball.

Hakoda “ wow sweetie this is amazing”

Sokka “ wait you can do magic now no fair”

katara “ it not magic mom calls it water bending”

????? “ your mother is right” the family of four soon looked and saw kanna standing there, she was smiling as well.

Kanna “ there haven’t been many water benders bender here for many years, you have a special gift my daughter”

katara “ really gran gran”

hakoda “ your gran gran never lies sweetie”

y/n “ hakoda it seems like both of our kids are special Sokka with his boomerang and Katara, with her waterbending”

hakoda “ yes the spirts have blessed us well haven’t they”

y/n “ yes they have”

Katara “ can I work more on my water bending o please pretty please”

hakoda “ yes you can honey but you will have to be careful, you are still very young” katara had nodded her head she was very happy. Over time katara will start mastering more of her water bending, but it felt like she wanted more from her life.

Many years later

Katara “ mom are you sure you want me and Sokka to leave with aang”

y/n “ sweetie you should go help aang master water bending and learn as well”

katara “ you will be all alone here”

y/n “ i will have gran gran and the rest of the trio be here to keep my company, yes your father has left for the war but now it time for you and Sokka to go and explore the world … along woth saving it as well”

katara “ yes mom “

y/n “ I will miss you my little waterbender … you are no longer little but you will still be my water bender”

katara “ i will miss you to mom” but we will come home I promise that”

y/n “ i know now go my dear daughter” Katara had hugged you one last time, before she took off on appa with her brother and aang. You are happy for your daughter and you know she will do well, and one day will be an amazing water bender as well.

[arthurcantsleep]

A Collection of Unsent Letters pt2

Hey Poindexter,

I'm doing great without you. I've got money coming in and a new place just outside of Kansas City. I'm doing great. I'm sure college is great for someone like you, but I'm doing just fine all on my own. I don't need you or Mom or dad or nothing.

Everything is great. I met this gal and I've got an apartment. Things are going real swell. Shermie has started writing me! Can't believe he's in Middle school already! You could come see me. If you want.

Stanley

______________

Dear Stanford,

Things are still great. I left Kansas. I lived in New Mexico for a bit, but it was too hot. I'm in North Dakota these days, y'know, if you ever pass through. It's been awhile. I hope college was good. Mom called me! She told me you got your PhD! Maybe I could come by and we could get drinks to celebrate?

I don't know. This is stupid. You are stupid.

Why couldn't you stand up for me. I always had your back. Always.

Screw you,

Stan

_____________

Dearest Stanford,

I'm back in Tennessee for awhile and Ma was asking about you. You are always welcome in the McGucket house. I know I left things a little weird but

Me and some of the boys are performing at church for Christmas and Mama and Gran made us matching sweaters. I think you'd laugh at it, but I also know you'd think it was fun. The boys kinda miss you too! We could make you a sweater too, if you wanted to spend the holidays here. Between Gran, Ma and I, we could make something cozy for you lickety split!

I've been writing music again. I got a song for you, next time we see each other. I miss you, Buddy.

Love,

Fiddleford

__________

Hey Ford,

It's been a week since you flew into space or whatever. I thought maybe you'd come back on your own. I'm not smart like you. I don't know what any of these symbols mean. I don't know how to do this without you.

I feel like an idiot for never calling. You never realize how much of a privilege it is to be able to call until you can't anymore. I want to call you.

I think you might be dead. I think I am too. It feels like it. I didn't protect you when we were kids. I ruined your life when we were teens. I killed you as an adult. I killed you.

My brother. My best friend.

I should have had your back like you always had mine.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Stanford.

I miss you,

Stanley

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (42)

Pres.Ravinstill: My dearest Mentors, in spite of the recent tragic events-

Felix: You mean the Arena Explosion Incident that almost got us killed if not for Palmyra Monty being absent that day?

Pres.Ravinstill: Yes. That one.

Festus: But why are we calling it tragic? Nobody died.

Pres.Ravinstill: Correct! Nobody died except for our government’s budget for reconstruction that is. Now I have to borrow another large sum of money from Monster Cardew- I mean, from Mama Cardew again.😞

Livia: That sounds like good news to me.😌💅

Coryo: Of course it does.🙄

Pres.Ravinstill: However, that is not the reason for why I’m here today-

Androcles: Mr. President, Mr. President, are you here for your missing Bichon Frisé puppy-

Everyone: Andie!

Androcles: Nevermind. I’ll shut up now.

Pres.Ravinstill: As I was saying, I’m here to make an announcement. An important one that will either make or break the future of our country. So Felix, come up here and give your Gran Gran a hug-

Felix: Am I in trouble? If so, just know it wasn’t me. It was Festus-

Festus: Hey! I ain’t no criminal-

Felix: Or Hilarius-

Hilarius: Fair enough.

Felix: And Sejanus.

Sejanus: Coryo! Coryo, my love, they’re bullying me again!😭

Coryo: Babe, please stop crying in front of the President. It’s embarrassing.

Sejanus: Ok. I’ll stop crying if you first give me a kiss.😘

Coryo: On the cheek?

Sejanus: No.

Coryo: On the forehead?

Sejanus: Lower.

Coryo: On the nose?!

Sejanus: Lower.

Coryo: On your chin?!

Sejanus: You know where, Babe.😏

Coryo: I-

Sejanus: Pretty please?🥺

Coryo: Um-

Lysistrata: Kiss him! Kiss him, Coryo! Coryo, please! For the SnowPlinth Fan Club!

Diana: You do know that the President is still here, right?

Felix: Don’t worry about it. My granduncle is part of the SnowPlinth Fan Club. Just look at him.

Pres.Ravinstill: Kiss him! Kiss him, Snow!! Crassus x Strabo forever!

Apollo: Crassus x Strabo?! That’s the wrong SnowPlinth Fan Club!

Felix: Tomato, Potato.

Florus: I beg to differ. That’s-

Coryo: *faints from embarrassment*

Pup: Well, I’ll be off to call the medics again.

Sejanus: *princess carries Coryo* Oh, don’t mind me. Coryo and I will be going home together.🥰

Pres.Ravinstill: Fine. I’ll go straight to the point. Felix, my beloved grandnephew, I am officially promoting you to be my new son and heir.😊

Felix: Wait, what?! Why me?! What happened to my other uncles, aunts, and older cousins?!

Pres.Ravinstill: Fortunately, they were all disowned yesterday.

Felix: Disowned?!

Pres.Ravinstill: Fortunately.

Felix: What about my parents?!

Pres. Ravinstill: Them too. So starting today, you are now my one and only son.🥹

Io: Oh, that’s so sweet!

Juno: ✨Slay✨, Class Pres!

Clemensia: Congratulations, Class Pres!

Iphigenia: Nice one, Class Pres!

Domitia: Let’s party!

Dennis: Food’s on Livia!

Livia: Suck a di-

Felix: Granduncle, are you crazy?! Why would you disown everyone but me?!

Pres.Ravinstill: It’s father now. And Panem, it was quite a funny story-

Felix: Please just tell me the short version.😞

Pres.Ravinstill: Fine. Your parents, uncles, aunts, and cousins had a big fight yesterday-

Felix: That’s just normal-

Pres.Ravinstill: Which escalated so fast that one of them intentionally destroyed one of my rare #SnowPlinth merch and my #Crasca4Ever hate shrine!

Vipsania: The audacity!

Pres.Ravinstill: Sis, you don’t even know the worst thing they did!

Vipsania: What did they do?

Pres.Ravinstill: Those damn ungrateful kids of mine vandalized one of my exclusive Bichon Frisé puppy posters out of spite!😡🔪

Everyone:. . .

Pres.Ravinstill: So I disowned all of them. Lol.

Felix: What the heck?!

Lysistrata: Not the SnowPlinth merch!😭

Pres.Ravinstill: I know! They were all so cruel to commit a crime such as that!

Sejanus: Mr. President, Mr. President, we must swiftly punish-

Pres.Ravinstill: Don’t worry, Mr.

Plinth. I already gave them a befitting punishment for their actions.

Felix: Which is?!

Pres.Ravinstill: Peacekeeper duties for 10 years without pay.😊

Felix: *faints from the shock*

Gaius: Fainting must be trending today.

Urban: You don’t say.😒