#from my love for my grandmother

[csjwrites]

#1: Keep Fighting

Keep fighting. You're more powerful than you think.

"Your history is in our ancestors, and everything they were has been passed down to you.

As long as you're alive, nothing is ever truly lost."

I was eighteen years old, when I suddenly found my people. When, unexpectedly, my origin, that was not to be spoken of, was presented to me as something to be proud and loud about.

"As long as you're alive..."

My grandmother spoke these words to me one lonely morning, when it was just us. Everyone else was still asleep, and she would sit my the fireplace in the library and smoke while I would keep her company.

We speak about these subjects often, and every time we circle back to the same feelings that have lived in our family for years by now;

That complicated, unexplainable grief that seems to have no reason or end, the feeling of hopelessness and like something is missing. The inability to trust 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, and the overprotective tendencies over family.

Outside of those late nights and early mornings, my family doesn't talk about feelings or anything similar. Even then, talking is hard for grandma. It is to me as well, but I'm learning.

They call it intergenerational trauma. I call it an average Tuesday.

Helplessness.

There's a whole culture and language out there that's supposed to be ours. Yet, I feel so disconnected. I know a mere fraction of all of it. I'm stuck in the gray area, the in-between. I'm not Finnish, so I can't give up, but I don't know anything, so maybe I should.

I wonder quietly how many tears have been shed so I could exist, so I could keep demanding,

See us, hear us, acknowledge that we exist, acknowledge what you've done!

Where's the hope and faith in that?

I imagine myself telling my great-grandmother, who was my age in 1943, that I still have hope, I'm still fighting for my place in the world, and for a moment I believe it myself.

Great-grandmother,

Would you be proud of me? Do you have any reason to be?

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 266

Back on my Danny & Ras frienemies/rivals/maybe-lovers-nobody-can-tell-their-signals-are-very-mixed train. 

See, Danny has gone through time a lot. Often. It comes with being Clockwork’s charge-son-thing and honestly he finds it fun. And several times he’s used this time travelling to get some training in. Enter Ras, stage left, also a teen at the time and also learning swordsmanship from the same person. 

And they… utterly despise each other. They would kill the other for an apple slice, if the other one would die! But also, only they can kill the other, as it is obviously their right! 

And well, they keep running into each other. It has been a hundred years, surely the other would die by now? But of course their rival would live through utter spite. Probably to spite them specifically. 

The amount of times they have ended up sparring- trying to kill each other or not- the moment they see the other is actually ridiculous. But time is also passing. And… Danny understands, not having another to talk about things people are forgetting, or have already forgotten. 

How they ended up actually talking without a murder attempt was a long story that included a demon, a dragon, a pair of fae, some bandits, and a lot of alcohol, but it happened. And then it happens again. And again, and now it’s just kind of normal to share a drink after their spars, talking about things that no longer exist, and things they miss. 

Sure Danny can go back in time again, but he knows better than to do it willy nilly. He’s matured, he’s been an adult for a hundred years now, he knows there’s consequences for messing with time, even with Clockwork’s blessings. 

The first time they got married was technically for an undercover assassination. Well, Ras was there to assassinate someone, Danny was there to grab an artifact that should Not be in the realm of the living. And they got divorced after, it was fine. 

They just, also got married again when they met a few years later, for another job. And… okay, so maybe they have gotten married over a dozen times now and only divorced like half of those times. Half of those were for the bit or while drunk! 

And even if technically they’re married or shared a bed, it’s not like they're exclusive! As Ras’ daughters’ existences attest to (adopted in one case or not). They don’t exactly have a label for their relationship, despite others asking for one or trying to put a name to it themselves. 

Now Danny knows Ras isn’t exactly a good dude, or at least on the side of ‘good’ as he’s a literal assassin. But he also knows that good? Bad? Rather relative. He had gotten labeled as a villain when he was just trying to help all that time ago after all, and really who was he to tell someone else how to live their life? 

Which brings him to now, where he’s run into his old frienemy-rival and his youngest daughter. Who has a braindead teenager and a small toddler. Which is fine, really- but also, Talia dear, why are you using a brain dead teenager to guard your three year old son? 

…

Okay, Talia dear, Ras (Derogatory), why are you using your brain dead son and grandson to guard your younger son and grandson? Do you not have the Pits, which you were soo proud about Ras? Yes, he will spar with you, but for Realms’ sake, heal, what’s his name? Ah yes, go heal Jason and he’ll actually stick around for a few years, deal? Good. 

[wigglebox]

Comfy & cozy are we ✨🎄

[homelanderbutbig]

I love your blog! It brings me an immense amount of joy!! And your art style is so cute!! But I have to know.. Do we think Homelander likes pumpkin spice lattes?? Do Homelander and Reader partake in fall festivities?

Thank you so very much!! I'm so happy to hear that you like my stuff! ❤️🫂

With his upbringing I imagine Homelander thinks of food purely as sustenance, like he eats it for energy and doesn't care about savouring any flavours. But of cooooourse, if he had an s/o who wanted to share foods with him, he would give anything a try just for that true "couple quality time". I don't know if his tastebuds are stronger like his other senses (hearing, sight, smell), so I can't say if he's a man who partakes in sweet foods. He'd probably think a pumpkin spice latte was gross as it's a bit intense with the sugar and artificial flavours. But his reaction would make the reader nickname him "pumpkin" for the rest of the season. And that would fluster him to his core. >w>

And I don't know how many Fall activities the reader could manage to drag Homie too, lol. They'd want to do everything with him since he never did any as a child, and as an adult it'd be purely for Vought functions. But there wouldn't be much chance for alone time going out in public for apple picking or selecting a pumpkin. He'd probably rent out an entire farm just for the two of them, perks of having unlimited Vought money, haha. Spending some quiet time outside, taking a moment to experience the Fall season. Going for a nice walk through an orchard, a crisp breeze blowing through his hair with crinkly leaves underfoot. Just the small human things he's never been allowed to participate in.

[badassindistress]

For your ask, this is a c. 1900s paper fan I was gifted with some of my favourite jewellery. The fan was meant to bring me luck for A Thing and it did - and I hope it will give you some good luck, too.

Oh my gosh that fan is a dream! The carving! What a treasure to have!

Thank you so much for sharing it with me💖

[thelastspeecher]

I have a bunch of vintage cookbooks given to me by family members, and I've been testing them out. I've been documenting the recipes and results (mostly good, but there have been a couple flops) on an Instagram I made for this purpose.

and even tho this is a personal project of mine and it doesn't need people to be viewing it, the big reason I started up this account is to share these recipes. my grandmother that passed away earlier this year gave me the oldest cookbooks I have, the ones that are certainly out of print and impossible to find. my grandmother believed in sharing love via food, and there is no better way to honor her memory than to share recipes so that they don't disappear.

so. to see if I can get a bit of a bigger audience for my little pet project, to further my goal of spreading these recipes so they don't fade into obscurity, here is the link for the Instagram! if you like vintage recipes, classic Midwestern recipes, or even just want to see what the hell are in these old cookbooks, please, give me a follow there.

:)

[enigmaticpink]

I wonder how my great great great grandma who was born in 1907 and died before even my mom was born would feel to know that in 2024 there's a cat named after her. Like to know that her own great granddaughter who she only ever known as a little girl, would as a 65 year old woman, adopt a cat and think like...'she reminds me of my great grandmother who's been gone longer now than I ever knew her.'

[noxious-fennec]

Marwa Bziwech & Charles Monet; a pair of law students who gave up stuffy suits to be paranormal investigators together in the neboulous pre war era of French protectorate-Beylik Tunisia. They hate each other.

[daphneblakess]

and when all the swifties listen to florence and the machine and experience what good lyricism feels like

[hamletthedane]

How did you conquer your fear of dogs?

That’s actually SUCH a sweet story - a dog saved my life.

My grandparents (who are farmers/ranchers) got a dog to help them with herding livestock and she was the calmest, sweetest, most well-trained dog who ever lived. She absolutely adored me but could tell I was petrified of her, so she always stayed in my orbit without ever touching me or coming too near.

One summer day when I was ~10yo, I’m walking back to their house for some lunch and she’s trotting a few yards behind me. Suddenly, she does something she’s never done before: she growls all deep and scary then races forward at top speed and knocks me to the ground.

I’m obviously terrified, but then I hear a rattling sound, a loud yelp, then another growl. Scrambling backwards, I look up to see a dead rattlesnake right where I was about to walk, with my grandparent’s dog whimpering and licking at her leg.

I go FLYING back to the house sobbing and hollering that we have to go get her, but just as we’re running back out the door, she comes limping up the road behind me as fast as she can, beelining straight for me to make sure I’m alright

Rattlesnake venom can kill a grown man and WILL kill a 10yo 50lb girl or a 2yo 50lb dog, so I spent the whole night laying on the kitchen floor with her, worriedly petting at her head and pressing my face into her soft fur as an IV dripped antivenom into her.

(and fifteen years later - only two years ago - I helped my grandad bury her under the live oak tree by the creek that she used to chase squirrels into. She died of old age)

…and honestly how can you be scared of dogs after something like THAT??

[diandrarumi]

another headcanon, so i read that fic about harry giving ginny his mother's necklace and it was just so sweet....

so in my head ginny is not that big for jewels and accessories, like she obviously loves girly things but she also grew up poor so she probably knew that jewellry is a luxury indulgence that is not something she'd have the luck to have. So she never really bothered with any of them

but then she saw how harry cried when he went through his family's vault and saw lily and euphemia's jewelry box and how harry was so touched knowing that he had family heirlooms passed down from the women in his family

and like he shyly gave ginny his mother's necklace and proposed to her with his grandmother's ring and when they got married harry gave her the jewelry box and told her that he hoped they would grow old together and that he could watch her pass down these heirlooms to their daughter and daughter in laws if they have any

and since then you'd never see ginny potter out and about without bracelets, earrings and necklaces.

ginny even lent victoire the potter tiara when she married teddy

[blissfulalchemist]

Hayat (twc) // Chance cir. high school (fc5) // Azatae (bg3/dnd) Alma (ffxvi) // Clídna cir. post time skip (ffxvi) // Siberite (ffxiv)

Tagged by @shellibisshe and @statichvm to do this nice little picrew and well I just had to! Especially had to make high school Chance because god I love his emo phase so much.....

Tagging: @florbelles @adelaidedrubman @unholymilf @belorage @strafethesesinners

@confidentandgood @shallow-gravy @chyrstis @jackiesarch @inafieldofdaisies and anyone else that wants to!

[stuckinapril]

studying all day today <33 no human interaction needed it's just me and my books

[linaxart]

Ever the gentleman

[holocene-sims]

a sneak peek for an upcoming (timeline tbd) update 😊

[queerdiazs]

wip wednesday ✨

hii 🫶🏼 hoa eddie is giving me fits but i simply don't care, that bitch is going to suffer from the shenanigans he's caused one way or another, so please enjoy him being a goofy goober

He lays his chin on Buck’s shoulder, stuffs his face against Buck’s neck and breathes deep. He shuts his eyes and smiles. “Did you use my shampoo?”  “Your soap, too.”   Eddie laughs. “It smells nice on you,” he says, inhaling deeply one more time before opening his eyes and staring down at the catastrophe in the skillet. “Buck, I think you burned that piece of bacon.”  “S’fine,” Buck says, jerky and stunted, and stabs the overcooked piece of bacon a couple times before he gets enough leverage to pull it out of the grease. It’s charred and dark next to the other pieces on the paper towel. “I’ll still eat it.”  Humming, Eddie nuzzles his face across Buck’s shoulder. “Are we just having bacon?”  “There’s still some of that pudding cake leftover in the refrigerator.”  “Bacon and cake for breakfast?” Eddie pinches Buck’s side, eliciting a small giggle that has the stiffness in his shoulders dissipating. Whatever it is that’s weighing on Buck is still heavy, then, but not so big that Eddie can’t take it every once in a while. He doesn’t mind being Buck’s rock whenever he needs to. “Yum.”  “And coffee.” Buck flicks Eddie’s forehead, just hard enough it makes a funny little noise, and adds a few more pieces of bacon. “Breakfast of champions.”  Eddie wrinkles his nose and snuffles, kind of like a puppy, and tugs on a piece of Buck’s wet hair. “I’m glad you’re here, Buck,” he says, and it’s all ooey-gooey emotions in his tummy, too-sweet and sticky like honey, and, oh, that’s different. That’s very… different. “I’ve got a lot of laundry to do and you’re my favorite little helper.”  “But I’m injured,” Buck whines, pouting his fat bottom lip out.  “Are you?” Eddie smile, ear to ear. “I thought you said you were okay.”  Buck fakes a cough in Eddie’s face, tongue out and all, because he’s a brat. “See? Injured.” He shrugs. “Guess I can’t help with laundry at all.”  Eddie’s grin widens so far his cheeks chub up. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable, Buck,” he says before he can stop his heart from talking out of his mouth. And it’s fine, maybe, that he’s got shit for brains sometimes, because Buck’s face lights up in a glowing red blush that has Eddie’s heart beating a little fast in his chest. He wonders if Buck can hear the thudding; it’s loud enough and they’re so close Eddie can feel Buck’s heat. “Buck—” “Eddie—” Christopher’s alarm, fucking Crazy Train, rips through the kitchen and startles both Eddie and Buck apart. Eddie’s heart races and Buck’s face is as red as the tomatoes sitting in the windowsill and perhaps it’s a good thing they were interrupted because Eddie’s not exactly sure what he was going to say. 

i was tagged by @wildlife4life, @wikiangela, @honestlydarkprincess, @fortheloveofbuddie, @disasterbuckdiaz, @thewolvesof1998, @daffi-990, @try-set-me-on-fire, and @callaplums mwah i adore all of you

and i'm casually no pressure tagging @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @callmenewbie, @exhuastedpigeon, @jesuisici33, and everybody else who wants to partake in the tomfoolery