#the Kids

[moveslikekeithrichards]

years & years of being told "righty tighty lefty loosey" have been erased by overhearing a kindergartner tell her friend "twisty tighty lefty righty" while they were trying to open a water bottle. any time i try to remember which way to turn now thats all i can think of

[retrotrait]

Let's go to the movies...

[efverse]

idkkkk been trying to think about efverse ditto stuff a little ???

[dndadsepisodecovers]

Ep.31.01- Home! Err… the Odyssey!

[nighhtwing]

DICK and DAMIAN in GRAYSON #12

[datura-tea]

hair day!!!

[crazerk]

Dear author, we need a mother-daughter (or even one with Kaz 🥹) snippet now that we've seen how adorable MC's sons are with her!

Omg yes! This ask reminded me of a scene in magnificent century where mihrimah defended her mother from Hatice. I based this snip on that.

"Soraya, your posture," you murmured, barely moving your lips as you adjusted your daughter's silk sleeve. The great hall buzzed with conversation and the sweet notes of the court musicians, but all you could focus on was the way Soraya's shoulders kept slouching in defiance of years of training.

"Mother, I'm dying of boredom," Soraya whispered back, straightening briefly before slumping again. Her eyes kept straying to the door as if plotting an escape. "I should be with Cyrus. He's all alone in that stuffy room, in pain and bored to tears..."

"Your brother has three physicians attending him and more books than the imperial library. What he needs is rest, not you hovering over him like a mother hen." But your own thoughts drifted to your younger son, wondering if his fever had broken yet.

Across the room, Arman's laughter boomed over the refined murmur of conversation. He was trading war stories with a group of young officers, his cup of wine sloshing dangerously as he gestured. Soraya watched him with naked envy.

"At least someone's enjoying himself," she muttered.

"General Dastan seems to be enjoying the evening as well," you observed carefully, noting how the man's eyes kept finding your table. The Hero of the Northern Campaign, they called him. The Scourge of the Steppes. The man who'd saved the empire's borders through cunning and steel. He cut an impressive figure in his formal military attire. At thirty-two, he was in his prime – battle-tested but not war-worn, his dark good looks unmarred by the campaigns that had made his name.

Soraya's lip curled. "He can enjoy it somewhere else. I don't like the way he stares."

"He's a good match," you said, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. "Intelligent, successful, with strong support among the border provinces—"

"Mother, please." Soraya's fingers twisted in her lap. "I'd rather join the priesthood. I've already picked out my temple."

"You've been threatening that since you were twelve."

"Well, maybe this time I mean it."

You sighed. "I just want—"

"I know what you want." Soraya's voice softened. "But I can't be the perfect princess you're trying to make me into. I wish..." She glanced at Arman again. "I wish Cyrus were here. He'd tell me exactly how many battles Dastan actually lost, and how many of his victories were just good luck and better weather."

Despite yourself , you smiled. "Your brother does have an uncanny memory for other people's failures."

"It's not fair that he gets to skip this because of a fever. He probably isn't even that sick. I bet he's in his room reading those new scrolls from—"

"My, my, what dreadful posture."

The voice cut through your conversation like a blade. Consort Zina, one of prince Parvis’ concubines, settled onto a nearby cushion with practiced grace, resplendent in jewels that couldn't quite disguise the years etched around her eyes. Despite being aunt by marriage to the shah, she carried herself as though she were the empress herself. A younger woman hovered at her shoulder, wearing the latest court fashion and an expression of carefully crafted concern.

"Really, you grace," Zina continued, her tone dripping with false sympathy, "I would have thought you'd taught your daughter better. Though I suppose we can't all have the advantage of proper breeding."

Soraya’s eyes flashed with rage while your face remained perfectly composed, though your fingers tightened on your cup. "Your concern is noted, Consort Zina."

"And where is your younger son?" the younger woman chimed in, clearly eager to curry favor. "Surely an imperial prince understands the importance of state functions? Or perhaps he finds himself... above such duties?"

Soraya's head snapped up. "My brother is ill."

You squeezed your daughter’s hand in warning before turning to face the haughty noble. "Prince Cyrus is indisposed," you said coolly. "As I'm sure you've heard, Lady...?"

The woman flushed at the deliberate slight. "Lady Mercen."

"Ah yes. New to court, aren't you?"

"Now, now," Zina said, lifting her cup to her lips. "No need to be sharp, y/n. We're all concerned for the proper appearance of the imperial family. After all, these children reflect on all of us, even those of... humbler origins."

Soraya went very still. When she spoke, her voice could have frozen flame.

"Consort Zina. You're addressing an imperial consort and the mother of two princes." Her smile was razor-sharp. "How many sons have you given the imperial house again? I forget. Is it... none?"

"Soraya." Your voice cracked like a whip. "You will leave. Now."

"Mother—"

"Now."

You raised your hand slightly, and a servant materialized at Soraya's elbow. Your daughter rose, trembling with fury but trained too well to make a scene. As she was led away, you turned back to Zina, who sat with her mouth still open in shock.

"My daughter speaks out of turn," you said softly, "but she is young, and protective of her family. I trust you understand." You lifted her cup in a subtle mockery of a toast. "After all, we can't all have the advantage of proper breeding."

The musicians played on, and somewhere in the hall, Arman's laughter rang out again. You caught sight of General Dastan watching your daughter's retreat with an expression of mixed alarm and fascination.

Good, you thought. Let him see exactly what he'd be getting if he pursued this match. Your daughter might never be a proper court lady, but she had something far more valuable – the courage to bare her fangs when those she loved were threatened.

[missathlete31]

This man 🔥😍

I’m going to need a minute for this as well

[ripromulus]

the harrowing realization that Pomme made care packages to prep the younger ones in case they run into a deadly situation

[sandrockers]

“Monster” hunter on a bounty ✨

[winn-wynn]

Harpy hare by yaelorke perhaps about Molly Weasley and her kids

[retrotrait]

Afterschool Activities

[efverse]

positive energy

[dndadsepisodecovers]

Ep.32.01- Grilling In the Name of

[nighhtwing]

DICK and DAMIAN in NIGHTWING: REBIRTH #1