#prairie papa

[alliluyevas]

wondering when exactly and for what reasons the names American children typically called their parents shifted from “ma and pa” to “mama and papa” to “mom and dad”

#at least in my experience w Mormon correspondence it seems like early 19th century it was ma and pa or mother and father #but by the end of the century it had shifted to largely mama and papa. #ma and pa feels very frontier bc of little house on the prairie but idk if this is actually a result of a less frontier culture or #if it just happens to coincede w it. but I have seen several #late 19th century adults who call their own elderly parents Ma and Pa but are mama and papa #to their own kids.

[lol-im-done]

First Lady of Panem

Pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: When your family arrived to the Capitol from District Ten to secure their place as one of the most prominent and wealthy families of Panem you could have never dreamed fate would lead you into the arms of Coriolanus Snow. Falling in love was easy, watching him become President and becoming First Lady of Panem at his side would test your limits. Panem's history would forever be changed by this union.

AO3 Link

Author's Note: TW & Tags will be updated as each chapter comes out, first chapter is just to set up the story & characters. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Sky Blue Eyes

Those bluebonnets how sweetly they grow

For all the wide prairies they're scattered like snow

They make all the meadows as blue as the skies

Reminding me of my darlings blue eyes

The cow-filled prairies shifted to mountains signaling the train's entrance into District Two as you hummed to the tune of an old song from before Panem’s creation. The sprawling grass sea of District Ten, of your home, disappeared in the distance as you made your way to the heart of Panem. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?”

Lifting your head from the rattling window you turned to see your mother looking at you with soft concern. 

“Sorry Mama, what were you asking?”

Her hand smoothed over your younger sister Mellona’s curls, making her nuzzle deeper into her side. “I was asking if you were hungry so I could order lunch.”

“That would be nice Mama. Thank you.” 

“Alright, call for Agnes if you need anything she’s in the next car,” your mother stands, lays a snoozing Mellona down, before making her way to the dining car. 

“Homesick already?” Victoriosa, the eldest, asks from the chaise never taking her eyes off the magazine in her hands. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“We always knew we’d have to move to the Capitol.”

“Why now? I thought at least another year or two,” you asked, sinking into the plush leather seat. Victoriosa pauses, looks up at you and for an instant you can see your father’s intense expression staring back at you. 

“Papa wants to finally establish himself as a prominent figure in the Capitol. He needs Capitol support if he is to fully absorb the rest of the ranches, you know that,” she states. “This is also our opportunity to reach our full potential, choose our own paths. Once you finish your career you can always return to Ten if you wish but that would be a waste,” she returns to flipping through her magazine.

“Silva, what do you think?” you turn to your only brother who is seated next to you. 

He gives a short shrug. “I don’t mind it much as long as I can continue my research,” Silva sighs from behind his thick textbook. 

Victoriosa tilts her lithe neck backwards, “Yawnnnnn.” A snort leaves your lips and you’re grateful your mother isn’t nearby to reprimand you for your ‘unladylike’ behavior. 

“Biodiversity is the pinnacle of our success as cattle breeders!” Silva scowls. 

“I thought you’d be missing a certain milkmaid Carpathia,” Victoriosa smirks and a wild blush spreads under Silva’s glasses.  

“Oh like you’ll be missing your ranch hand Bronco,” Silva snaps back.

“There’s always summertime. Plenty of time to catch up,” Victoriosa grins like the cat who got the cream. The three of you burst into a fit of giggles right as Mellona groggily rouses from her nap. 

“Are we there yet?” 

Another burst of laughter fills the private train car. 

It would only take a few more hours before you arrived at the Capitol train station, nightfall falling over the city. Unlike District Ten, not all the stars were visible, the Capitol’s bright lights polluting the sky. Peacekeepers were already stationed to help move all the luggage into the waiting line of cars. Driving through the streets towards your new home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the statues in the squares and the towering buildings. Most of all you were excited to finally see your father, it had been almost a month since you had seen him last. 

“Papa!” 

All of you crashed into Alicio Lupus’ awaiting arms, his rumbling chuckle bouncing off the high marble ceilings of the penthouse. Refugio joins in on the hug with teary eyes, reaching up to press a kiss on her beloved husband’s cheek.

“Welcome home my darlings,” he squeezes you all tighter. Any fear you held disappeared in an instant, as long as you had your family by your side, all would be well. 

The first few weeks in the Capitol had been a whirlwind- meeting other Capitol families for dinner, registration for coveted internships and school courses, and endless shopping trips to assure your home and wardrobes were up to Capitol standards. Refugio Lupus wanted only the best for her children, which included constantly coaching you all to leave behind the District Ten accent that made certain words in your vocabulary drawl. 

After dinner one day you thought you had finally caught a moment of peace before a knock at your door startled you from your book. Agnes, your family's nanny, rolled in a rack of dresses with Victoriosa in tow. Victoriosa was already dressed in a sleek blood red dress with a mink shawl wrapped around her shoulders. 

“What’s all this?”

“We’ve been invited to a soirée to commemorate the end of the 13th Hunger Games. Papa thinks it’s a good chance to introduce us to others in the Capitol’s high society,” Victoriosa swept her arm towards the rack of glittering and ruffled dresses. Nerves made your stomach churn, mouth turning downwards into a frown as you remembered people’s faces this past week when it was revealed you had recently arrived from District Ten. Most look startled before looking at you like you were some exotic bird at the zoo. 

“They’ll never accept us.”

A prideful look crossed her face, so similar to your father’s. No wonder your mother said they were cut from the same stone. “They will once we show them we are as refined as they are. As long as you lose that accent of yours you’ll blend in like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” she grinned, canines glinting in the light of the chandelier. Rolling your eyes you step over to the rack, feeling the fabrics under your fingers. Stopping at a silver dress, the sequins twinkled like stars entrancing you. Agnes helped dress you before getting to work on sweeping your hair up into a fashionable updo. You waved away the highly pigmented makeup, not ready to delve into that side of Capitol fashion quite yet. 

“Remember you’re a Lupus. We’re wolves among sheep,” Victoriosa pinches your cheek. The usual calluses that adorned her hands were gone, chemical treatments making them a long forgotten memory. 

Wolves among sheep. 

Victoriosa’s words replay through your head like a mantra as you step into the grand ballroom behind her and your father. Thankfully your sister was a gifted extrovert, introducing you to the friends she had already made. Soon you found yourself surrounded by members of the new Gamemaker class, a glass of posca in your hand. It took some time but slowly your shoulders loosened and your smile widened, confidence making you stand a bit taller. 

Across the ballroom, Coriolanus Snow was repeating his own mantra to himself- Snow always lands on top. A reminder that showing up for another Capitol soirée wasn’t simply a waste of time but another way to show all these sycophants how high he had made it. Now heir to the Plinth fortune he was dressed impeccably. Tigris had helped style him, no more handmade shirts, and the final touch- Grandma’am’s rose pinned to his lapel. Like at most parties he was surrounded by his former classmates who were all desperate to remain in his inner circle- he was an esteemed Gamemaker after all. A glimmer in the distance caught his eye, distracting him from the meaningless chatter before him. He recognized the group as intern Gamemakers but not the young woman, fresh faced and glowing in the candlelight. 

“Who is that?” Coriolanus feigned nonchalance as he tilted his head towards her. 

Festus Creed followed his gaze, “Don’t you know?” 

“How could he know? The Lupus Family only recently decided to establish here in the Capitol,” Pup Harrington said in between bites of hors d'oeuvres. The name rang a bell, stories and information from his various connections coming to mind. 

“I believe that’s (Y/N) Lupus. I saw her the other day with her father, Alicio Lupus, at my mother’s bank” Livia Cardew said, inching closer to Coriolanus. “They practically own all the ranches in District Ten, Alicio Lupus’ brother is the Mayor of the District,” Livia whispered, lips coming close to his ear. Festus and Pup exchange an eye roll at her shamelessness and Coriolanus resisted the urge to shrug her off. Offending a Cardew would never bode well.  

“She’s district, probably going back and forth from Ten to the Capitol like one of her family’s pigs,” Livia giggled, but it sounded like grating metal in Coriolanus’ ears. 

“Don’t forget cows! Oh Panem, I dream about those steaks-,” Pup practically salivated. 

“Imagine living all your life in that District, like poor Sejanus,” Festus tutted. Coriolanus immediately bristled at the mention of Sejanus, his icy blue eyes darkening like an impending storm. Festus must have realized his mistake because his eyes widened, apology on the tip of his tongue before Coriolanus cut him off. 

“I should go make her acquaintance then,” he announces, ignoring Livia’s scowl. It was an opportune moment he thought as you now stood by the bar alone. Perhaps you would be desperate enough to try and get in his good graces, and offer to introduce him to your father. Coriolanus would be a fool not to recognize the Lupus family’s wealth and influence, they kept the Districts fed and the Capitol fat. Any potential relationship he could make was more support he could need when he would take a position in the Government. 

As you took another swig of posca, you thought you had managed to escape more social interactions for the night until a voice made you jump. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus Snow. Welcome to the Capitol.”

Turning around you looked up at the man’s captivating eyes, as blue as the sky back home. His pink lips curled slightly at the ends as if he was holding in a secret. Blonde hair pushed back in a neat fashion, accentuating his cheekbones. For a moment you were speechless. Remembering yourself, you gave him your name but you had a feeling he already knew it. 

“Pleasure to meet you Coriolanus Snow.”

His stomach swooped. Coriolanus swore he heard a familiar lilt in your voice, but it was not as strong as Lucy Gray’s and those in District Twelve. No, yours was smoother and made your pronunciation of his name sound like it was dipped in warm honey. 

“How are you finding the Capitol?”, he forces himself to ask, to ignore those dangerous thoughts. 

“It's something...definitely not like back home,” you look around at the extravagant decor. 

“Ah yes, District Ten. I’ve never made my way there but I’ve heard wonderful things,” the lie flows smoothly past his lips. “How grateful you must feel to finally be brought to us.” 

Coriolanus would never miss a chance at making anyone District born feel inferior, all the posca he had been drinking making him loose lipped tonight. Indignation made your hands tingle, but you took a deep breath and clenched the glass tighter in your hands to ground you. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t assigned there as a Peacekeeper. I suppose wherever the songbird called from you followed,” you replied, taking a demure sip from your glass, relishing in the way his jaw tensed. You knew who he was, his story with Lucy Gray Baird. Victoriosa had heard it all from a friend and had no qualms in passing the gossip down to you. If he was going to throw thinly veiled insults you’d have to show him you wouldn’t take them lying down. 

“There’s that famous Lupus bite I’ve heard about,” he grins, taking a step closer to you. The scent of roses fills your nose, the sudden proximity to him making a blush rise up your neck. His hand reached out, moving to push a piece of hair behind your ear but the moment was broken when Victoriosa called out for you, pointing to your father who was making his way out the doors. 

“If you’ll excuse me it’s time for me to get home. I’m sure our paths will cross again,” you murmured softly, dipping your head in farewell. Coriolanus stepped back with a slight bow, eyes never straying from your figure as you sauntered away. Oh yes, like two stars crossing in the night sky, you would meet again. Coriolanus would make sure of it. 

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas

[bcolfanfic]

Mollie I’m sitting on my knees with my hands out begging for the young veteran au HC’s with Gale and John’s adopted daughter 🤲🏻

(modern) young vets au - josie cleven-egan’s version™️

they talk about it once not long after they get back to the states- but that conversation ultimately comes down to deciding to revisit it when bucky’s ptsd is more under control.

and if it just isn’t something that works out for them- or bucky doesn’t feel ready ever then that’s okay too.

but bucky wants it. which takes some work, and time and tears and gale wanting to fire every single person at the sheridan VA office.

he gets there though, and gale is so damn proud of his husband.

when they revisit the kids thing they consider going to the infant adoption route but ultimately decide to go through an agency that places waiting kids in the foster system whose parental rights have already been terminated. surrogacy isn't something either of them really bring up except to bypass it.

it’s a smidge because bucky is intimidated by literal babies. just a smidge. 

they eventually get a call about a four year old little girl named josie and the information the social worker sends over about her breaks their sweet hearts. 

they both have their own shit from the war, but they’re grown men and trying to wrap their minds around a four year old having trauma that almost rivals their own makes them sick. 

damn taking a few days to call back like her social worker offers, they call back by the end of the night to ask when they need to be ready. 

sweet little josie shows up with a hello kitty suitcase at 8pm on a tuesday. gale and bucky love her instantly in a way that they struggle to really articulate. 

it just makes sense, her little face looking up at them when she’s sitting on the floor pulling her shoes off. she’s home. 

she clicks with bucky immediately, who takes to calling her jojo which she rolls with happily. but gale freaks himself out about suddenly actually being a parent and takes a little longer to find his footing. 

which makes him a little insecure when she seems more hesitant around him than she does bucky. it doesn’t necessarily help that bucky is the one home all day- and the one time he has to leave for an evening and isn’t there for bedtime poor josie absolutely flips out. 

her and gale both end up in tears by the time she’s actually clonking out, bless their hearts. 

she tuckers herself out and falls asleep in his arms. but man does poor gale feel like he’s absolutely useless having spent the past couple hours listen to her scream for daddy to come home like he’s just some babysitter. 

it hurts bucky’s heart when he’s home and gale is venting about it. he knows that man was born to be a dad and that their baby loves him, they just maybe need a little more one on one time. and gale needs to get out of his head about becoming his own father because, as bucky puts it- he’s nothing like that sack of shit and never will be. 

they spend more one and one time together, gale bringing her to the school he substitute teaches at when he’s just going in to plan over the weekend. she’s content to color on printer paper while he works, parking herself on his knees. it’s the first time she does that, and bucky beams at the photo he texts him. 

my buddy, at last! 👍🏼

the first time she calls gale daddy as opposed to “um, mis-ter cle’n” he cries. bucky cries. everyone cries. 

then raises the issue of figuring out how to differentiate between the two of them. they land on gale being daddy and bucky being papa. 

bucky jokes that it makes him feel he’s on little house on the prairie, but it’s fine. he’d let his darling jojo call him anything she damn well pleased. 

the day they make it official at the courthouse, as many of the guys as are free fly in to be there and celebrate with them. crosby brings his herd of kids and watching them run around with the newest little cleven-egan makes him emotional. 

“you cryin’ croz?”

“thinkin’ about when we were overseas. didn’t know if we’d be alive by the end of the week. but now look at our lives,” he says, swiping at his eyes. bucky smiles and rubs his shoulder, feeling choked up for about the fifth time that day. 

“it all worked out, huh?”

#young vets au #buck x bucky #buck cleven #bucky egan #gale cleven #john egan #bucky x buck #mota #buck(y) #clegan

[telekinetictrait]

Young Miss Cassandra Goth really ought to be courted soon – as the most eligible lady in Willow Creek, she practically has suitors lining up outside her window! But she prefers to lounge in her Mama's old dressing gowns and work on her musical compositions. Little Mister Alexander is a right young genius – why, he's already mastered Latin and is a genius at mathematics, just like his Papa. Well, if Miss Cassandra refuses to wed, at least when little Alexander comes of age he'll certainly make a good match!

cc links and creator tags under the cut!!!

check my resources page and genetics tag for genetics

multiple: an0nymousghost's qrqr19 opal hair conversion - vegantrait's shine moles - wildlyminiaturesandwich's posey glasses - dancemachinetrait's victorian child stockings + boots - linzlu's warm wool socks - linzlu's child button boots / buzzardly28's hilda hair - the-melancholy-maiden's late victorian hair - happylifesims' gilded glasses - dancemachinetrait's pemberley gloves - kedluu's ankle boots - historysims4's victorian shoes

everyday/house: zurkdesign's red beans and rice conversion / cmoonsims' rachel dress

going out: vintagesimstress' 1892 boys overcoat / marigold's lace frill boater - buzzardly28's adelaide hair - jewishsimming's gibson girl set

formal: jewishsimming's sebastian jacket + nostalgia knickerbockers / gilded-ghosts' victorian visions dress

athletic: linzu's bicycle suit (download here) / vintagesimstress' cycling hat - gilded-ghosts' victorian visions jacket (i dont remember which one, sorry!) - gilded-ghosts' perfectly plain skirt

undergarments: standardheld's pajama party tank and shorts / dancemachinetrait's lillie corset and combinations

sleepwear: vintagesimstress' victorian nightshirt for boys / cringeborg's simple regency dress

morning: vintagesimstress' victorian nightshirt for boys - inabadromance's child accessory cardigan / vintagesimstress' sifix 1889 morning gown

swimwear: ameyasims' lehgaming's vintage swimwear conversion / lace-and-honey's linzlu prairie bonnet conversion - vintagesimstress' 1893 swimwear - eirflower's bain de soliel bathing shoes

party: vintagesimstress' 1893 boys outfit / simverse's hat with lily - teanmoon's cameo choker - vintagesimstress' 1898 evening gown

summer: jewishsimming's guidry boater conversion - historicalsimslife's polite boy outfit / the-melancholy-maiden's late victorian hat - delis-sims' victorine blouse - gilded-ghosts' perfectly plain skirt

winter: vintagesimstress' 1894 cape coat for boys / simverse's winter hat with feathers - clumsyalienn's rae scarf - sychik's 1890's jacket (...and i didnt see it until now but sychik also made it into a walking suit, which i shouldve used, and you should too!)

thank you to @an0nymousghost @vegantrait @wildlyminiaturesandwich @dancemachinetrait @linzlu @buzzardly28 @the-melancholy-maiden @happylifesimsreblogs @kedluu @historysims4 @zurkdesign @cmoonsims @vintagesimstress @jewishsimming @gilded-ghosts @cringeborg @inabadromance @ameyasims @lace-and-honey @eirflower @simverses @teanmoon @historicalsimslife @delis-sims @clumsyalienn and finally @sychik !!!

...a late victorian lookbook where i DONT use adèle's cc??? whats gotten into me!!!!!!!!!!

#my sims #sims 4 lookbook #ts4 lookbook #ts4lookbook #s4 lookbook #sims 4 #cassandra goth #alexander goth

[renlyslittlerose]

So my estranged grandfather passed away in the wee morning hours today. Seventeen years and one day since my Canadian grandfather died - which is very odd.

He wasn't what I would say was a good grandfather, nor a good father. He wasn't even a very good man. I started distancing myself from him around 2016, and was fully out of his life by 2018. He was verbally and emotionally abusive, enjoyed toying with people and their emotions, used people for his own personal gain, gaslit like it was his fucking job, and was generally neglectful to his duties as a father and a grandfather - especially to my sister and I. I can count on one hand the times he actually remembered my birthday when I was a kid, but even those moments were probably prompted by my mum or his girlfriend or his ex-wife.

But he had his moments, and I think I should say a few words about him and who he was.

He was born in a town in Hungary in 1935, near Lake Balaton. He was the youngest of the children, his brothers old enough to serve during WWII. During the war he talked about how he and his friends would go out to the abandoned battlefields and collect ammunition from the German and Soviet tanks, pile them in cow pastures, and set them off to scare the cows and other livestock. He said once school resumed after the war, a lot of kids came into class with missing fingers or even missing hands. He was lucky in that the only injury he received during his dumbass-ery was slicing his ass open on a destroyed German tank.

After the war he remained in the area, growing up with minimal education and helping run the household (his eldest brother had committed suicide shortly after the war was over). But in 1956, Hungary had their failed revolution in a desperate attempt to kick out the Soviet occupation. My grandfather wasn't part of the fighting, but he had enough sense to listen to one of the elders in the village who said that if they wanted to get the fuck out of Hungary and past the Iron Curtain, now was their time to run.

So he fled to Austria with some of his friends. They stayed in a refugee camp where he tried to learn basic English, before Canada accepted Hungarian refugees in 1958. So, along with some friends he'd made in the camp, he got on a boat and had a miserable trip across the Atlantic to the harbour of Halifax (he said that he could barely eat the entire trip because he was so sea sick). From there, he was put on a train that went across Canada, and he could get off on at any stop and just... start a new life.

It was, of course, the dead of winter when he and his friends arrived. Canada during the winter isn't pleasant - doubly so when you've come from the relatively mild Hungarian countryside. But one of his friends had family in Vancouver, and so he suggested they stay on the train all the way to the West Coast. Satisfied with this idea, my Papa agreed.

Only he made it as far as my home city in Alberta. You see, my city has this funky weather phenomena called a 'chinook.' Chinooks are when warm winds from the Pacific flow into the area and rush down the mountains and across the prairies, causing an inversion of air that rapidly warms up the city for a few days. We can go from -20C degree temperatures one day, to +15C the next. So when my Papa arrived in my city it was warm. Deceptively so. Ignoring his friend's suggestion they just continue on to Vancouver, my Papa decided to get off and start his new life.

The next day the train rolled out, and with it the freezing cold temperatures returned.

Despite it all he remained where he was. Life as a Hungarian refugee was tough. He knew very little English, and wasn't sure how to navigate life in a city that had developed past his home town in Hungary. He told me a story about trying to figure out how an automatic door worked, as well as trying to ask a store clerk where the bars of soap were, only to be taken to the canned soup aisle.

But as he learned English and adapted to Canada, he decided to sign up for architectural classes. He eventually got good enough at the gig that he became an expert in concrete as a building material, and helped to build one of the more iconic buildings in my city that is shaped like a saddle (which, if you know, you know).

In 1961, he and some fellow Hungarians decided to go to a dance at the local German-Canadian club where he met my German grandmother. She'd just moved to Canada, and had made the unfortunate decision to dance with the handsome Hungarian lad in the corner. Few months later she realized she was pregnant with my mum, and they got married before she gave birth.

Their marriage wasn't a happy one. But regardless, my Grandma had two more children with him before filing for divorce.

Growing up my Papa was always this strange, nebulous figure in my life. My sister and I were the eldest of the grandchildren, so we had to deal with his fumbled attempts at trying to be a grandfather when it was clear he didn't care. My mum would take us over to his house where they would argue the whole time, while my sister and I sat in the basement watching Jesus Christ Superstar on repeat. Gifts for birthdays usually came in the form of money, but I can remember the few times he actually bought me something. One time, he took me to the circus which ended up terrifing me because of the loud noises and bright lights. But instead of yelling at me or mocking me, he took me out of the show and bought me a teddy bear to sooth me. It was light brown with a white belly, with a yellow ribbon as a tie. I cherished that thing for a long time.

When I was old enough to carry a conversation, and he realized that I had an interest in ancient history like he did, we started chatting more. For a time it was fine. But then I realized that he liked to poke and prod and jab - liked to make people uncomfortable because it made him laugh. I would say something about my studies, and he would retort with something completely bigoted just to see me get flustered. I'll admit that I put up with it longer than I should have. The final straw was when I told him what my Masters studies would be on - how ancient Greek ideals on masculinity and male same-sex relations influenced the early German Gay Rights movement. His response was 'Good - show the world how your grandmother's people are a bunch of homos.'

He didn't believe what he was saying. He wasn't homophobic - unless he knew he could make it hurt. Which is almost worse, in a way.

After that I distanced myself. I didn't go to any family events he would be present at, and if I was forced to go I wouldn't speak with him. The last time I saw him was a few years ago when he was giving out cheques from his estate, under the assumption that he only had a few years left. I was surprised that I was even included, but then I realized that once again it was someone else in his life that had made sure I was looked after. This time it was my aunt.

I think the last thing I said to him was 'take care' or something along those lines. An impersonal greeting, one made out of social obligation more than anything.

I'm not sad about his passing, but I do worry about those who are left behind. My mother claims she doesn't care, but I know she still has lingering feelings - how could she not, he was her father, after all. My aunts are grieving terribly for a person that I never got to meet. Not really. My cousins who had a better relationship with him for the most part, are probably feeling the loss. And my sister, bless her, is worried for everyone else. His death will leave a crater in the family - one last 'fuck you' to his children, whom he loved to see fight over his affections and attention.

He had a lot of bad qualities, but some good as well. He was determined, he was curious, and he loved to learn. He was brave in the sense of leaving everything he knew behind just for a shot at something better. He had a good sense of humour (when he wasn't being a jerk), and I think deep down he did love his family. Just maybe not as much as he loved himself.

Nyugodjék békében Sandor 💕

#tw death #tw grief #tw abuse #tw trauma

[moonlight-tmd]

anymore info on the au that bee is unicron's and primus' kid?

Well, like i said- Unicron and Primus were a really lovely couple once upon a time, but as all boomer marriages do- they started to fall apart. And so-

They had Bee- a little, yellow, maybe-immortal Sparkling.

They tried. Bee grew up in a weird space-with-no-time place with his 2 colossal dads. I have decided that Unicron(disguise alias 'Unis') would be an orange/black mining dump-truck while Primus(disguise alias 'Prisma') is a deep blue/grey airliner. They are roughly the same size, Primus is a bit taller. Unicron has yellow optics while Primus has white.

They got "divorced" when Bee was trying to pass academy, then he got in boot camp as a back-up plan- which failed too. So now he's on the repair crew.

The parents rarely visit their child- the child however visits the parents very often. Bee has access to space rifts and can just go home for short amounts of cybertronian time, for example; he'd disappear without a trace for like a joor(hour) then come back with some believable excuse. He'd do it anytime he wants, most likely when everyone is recharging so they don't realize he's gone.

When the parents do visit the child tho- ohohohoo it's hilarious. Imagine this- two giant, almost spaceship-sized mechs claiming this tiny minibot is their offspring. They wanna know how it happened but at the same time they don't.

Unicron is 'Papa'- he's the overprotective, fun dad. He'd spoil his precious supernova with anything he desires and more- but Primus forbids him. He does however grant Bee the crazy abilities(spiderman climbing, flexibility, vocal mimicry) and maybe a cool heat-dagger that can cut thru anything with ease- all in secret tho. But Primus knows he's been messing around behind his back and doesn't take the things he already gave to Bee cuz he sees Bee is so happy with them and doesn't want to ruin it. He likes wrecking stuff with his son, his love language is weird- where he'll be a total softie with Bee and hype him up for anything and then he'll essentially insult someone else, like call 'em a freak, but in a good way. He loves all the wicked and out-of-ordinary things, heck he was the one that created organics. (probably)

Primus is 'Sire'- he is the comfort, advice-giving dad. The one to go to when things can't be fixed with fun or gifts or when he's overwhelmed. He gave Bee the ability to sing pretty since he was already talkative. He was the one keeping Bee's frame intact- but since his Allspark has been lost and shattered, he can't do much in the physical world but watch and manouver with what little control he has left to keep him alive. Primus loves all living things, he's there to balance the chaos Unicron brings. He speaks with these deep, spiritual/riddle lines that Prowl would use to express his opinion, feelings, etc. Rarely he speaks straight-forward like Unicron, when he does tho- it's usualy when he's very pissed or doing the best he can to comfort Bee.

Since Bee is so small compared to them, Primus and Unicron take him on rides sometimes. Primus loves to have him in his cockpit and fly in the sky or even space. He has a "projector" inside so if Bee wants then he can nap in the coziest place in the universe surrounded by stars. Unicron takes Bee in his box and they ride on the prairies- bumpy and fast ride on the large space only for them. He also uses it as a makeshift slide for Bee, one tilt is all it takes. Bee loves it.

If they were to visit Bee on earth they would barely fit in the plant, They are so tall they have to bend in half to not scrape their helms on the ceiling- Unicron even more so cuz of his massive horns. (see, this is why he hates contained spaces)

Feel free to ask about different scenarios. You can find a vague idea of what happens when they visit Bee on earth here. (ignore the look descriptions cuz they are outdated now)

#maccadam #tfa #ask box #tfa au #tfa bumblebee #god sparkling au

[tiny-prince-alef]

“Prairie Peaks... I remember Papa said I was never ever allowed there.  That was when he started getting mean and greedy because of the Darkstones... I think it’s because there were clusters of Darkstones there.  Would anybody go with me?”

#alef #prince alef

[zombiequeenblog]

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

tagged by: @xfilesinamajor

So honoured to be tagged, and sorry for the long-winded replies

currently reading: Joyland, by Stephen King, again. This novel is so good, emotionally compelling as well as scary, and is one of the only books to make my normally stoic partner cry (in a good way, it is one of King's less disturbing books). I find it difficult to find novels featuring the carny lifestyle, which I am interested in and consider wrestling to be the modern form of (I am a fan of AEW, especially the exquisite RJ City, who I got a Christmas cameo from where he proceeded to discuss Ghost lol, Chris Jericho, and Danhausen who definitely knows about Ghost and should convert RJ).

favourite colour: when I was a child reading Little House on the Prairie I decided my fav colour should be red because I have brown hair, and though I still like red because of the Cardinal, if I am honest with myself I adore pastels (please don't tell Morticia).

last song: Body and Blood remains a favourite, this was one of the first songs I heard from Ghost and it blew my mind at how joyously sacrilegious it is (I grew up roman catholic). The way he inhales before the chorus makes me weak and that grinding guitar after the bridge makes me lose my mind.

last movie: Prey for the Devil, which was a fun little not-too-scary movie which made me decide that if I were a Sister of Sin, I would have a sweet little habit of cornflower blue in my closet as well as the customary black ones, and I don't think Papa would mind.

sweet/spicy/savory: oooooh spicy and spicier, make it hurt please

currently working on: the next instalment of Cardinal/Mouse which I am greatly enjoying the process of even though getting what's in your mind down on the page can be tortuous.

I'm pretty sure everyone has already done this by now, but I'll tag @meowsaidmissy and @sucharide unless they've already done this and I'm too dumb to remember lol

#thank you so much for tagging me #no pressure to do this

[undeadcourier]

So where was the Red Hands raiding territory? And how did they interact with the Fiends, Khans, Vipers and Jackals?

For some background: Cal is from San Antonio, Texas, originally. I imagine sea levels would rise along the coastal prairies, possibly submerging Houston (or parts of it—city on stilts kinda thing), and Cal spent his youth as a pirate in the gulf and raiding along the gulf coastal plains following the I35 and I10. He'd meet Jovita, and they'd strike out on their own, establishing the Red Hands as they moved west, following the I10 to El Paso. They'd raid smaller settlements and caravans or do some brahmin rustling on drives closer to major cities where the markets would be.

As the gang grew and as they approached/entered Legion territory, their notoriety swelled since raiding (well, from non-legionnaires, anyway) was virtually unheard of in Caesar's Empire, and they were obliged to push west into the Mojave where pickings were easier. They raided in the northwest San Bernardino county area until Lanius caught up with them, and we know how that went....

After Lanius, Cal intends to rebuild the gang and recruits any Jackals, Vipers, and Powder Gangers who are willing to join him. He learns about the Platinum Chip from some of his contacts in Vegas and sees it as an opportunity to gain a foothold in the north, in Fiend territory.

I had the idea of him usurping the position & taking the base of another raider leader around Vegas, and originally was going to have that be another oc gang, but Motor-Runner/Vault 3 fit in nicely with what I had in mind. Haven't worked out all the details yet, but basically, Motor-Runner dies, and any Fiends willing to accept the change in management can join the Red Hands.

Once he deals with Benny and discovers the true value of the Chip, Cal himself uses the Lucky 38 as a secondary base with the Red Hands operating out of Vault 3.

Cal would want to work with the Khans as well, and since the Red Hands don't involve themselves in any significant capacity in the chem trade, they won't end up stepping on each other's toes too much. Cal convinces Papa Khan to ally with him rather than the Legion, and post Hoover Dam, they can send the NCR packing.

#callinan #the red hands #the fiends #motor-runner #papa khan #the great khans #the vipers #the jackals #powder gangers #legate lanius #caesar's legion #benny gecko #fallout: new vegas #undeadcourierocs #mojave express dropbox

[chicken-delight]

i was tagged to do this cute little questionnaire by @jinglejanglemornings and @lugosis earlier this week mwah!

last song in your head: blueberries for breakfast by the mamas and the papas.. stop waiting at the bus stop tryin to walk me homeeeee

favorite color: really enjoying blue lately..

what show/series did you last watch?: the crown sorry

spicy, sweet, or savory: SPICY.. theres something about the adrenaline rush and the snot running out of nose that is so enjoyable.

relationship status: single (i got the ick from the cowboy)

last thing you googled: air fryer tater tots

current obsession: yo mama.. don’t rlly have one really really.. always obsessed with my music:-D

last book you read: many lives many masters.. moving on to rereading little house on the prairie now

something you’re looking forward to: tomorrow my bestie and i are going to the jane goodall exhibit again and then getting lunch at one of my fave places and then im hot tubbing with a different bestie.. bestie sunday

i tagggg @fortheturnstiles, @milliondollarbash, @hoppkorv aaaaand @holdoncallfailed

[lady-merian]

Considering myself tagged by @valiantarcher - thank you! :)

❤️ (last song you listened to) – Viva la Vida by Coldplay. Apparently it’s been added to the playlist at work, and I have noticed this weird effect that if I hum a few bars I will hear it play there the same day.

🧡 (ideal pizza toppings) – Valia, you have just reminded me of this kind that Papa John’s used to have with alfredo and spinach… mmmmmm my mouth is watering and now I’m wondering if I could recreate a version to satisfy me…

💛 (dream vacation) – Scotland or Ireland… idk I’m not much for travel but if I could be instantaneously transported anywhere I might choose one of these (would love to join you on your dream tour of the Scottish isles)

💚 (earth, air, fire, or water) – ??? If it’s just what I like then idk, I like them all? But if it’s what I am like then I have even less of an idea

💙 (cartoon you grew up on) – because I watched it so much I caused my mom to memorize The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, and The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh series was a huge hit with us too. Also a lot of Veggie Tales, The Storykeepers, Superbook and (later) Little Dogs on the Prairie ( I love those more than Veggie Tales tbh. Too bad there’s only three episodes).

💜 (favorite scent) – Jasmine is a perpetual favorite (but also lilacs or daffodils or peonies or petrichor or apples and cinnamon, or woodsmoke… having a sister that works with scented candles means I have a lot of favorites )

Leaving an open tag for anyone who would like to do this! :)

#About me #Tag games #I have a lot of favorites

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Hello, Cricket!!! For the OC questions:

💥🍰🌱✏️🌟💓

With the royal queen of the Nemo household: Lady Dorothea Marianne Starrick.

BRING IT!!!

Aww, Giulietta, my dear!! <3

Some questions for my Dottie, good gods it has been *ages* since I last answered anything about her!! I am actually so happy to have the chance to do it now! <3

So, without further ado, let me answer your questions about my most beloved brainchild.

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Fear of losing the people she loves. Dorothea suffers from PTSD due to an accident that happened when she was younger, where she saw something she wasn't supposed to see, and that left her shattered inside, riddled with anxiety (or hysteria). The fact that she was so overly sheltered as well, both from her parents, Byron, and her cousins, left her completely unprepared as to how to deal with some of the situations she found herself facing after meeting Jacob. After falling for him, marrying him, and carrying their children, things have not entirely gotten better for her in that department, in the sense that her fears have multiplied, because she got so much more to lose.

🍰 CAKE SLICE - favourite cake flavour? are they specific about types of cakes?

Her favourite cake flavour is definitely the citrusy one, lemon custard in particular. She just appreciates the lightness and delicate flavour that comes from it. A specific type of cake she particularly appreciates is the one with lots and lots of fresh fruits in it.

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

The first gift she ever received from her father for her name's day, was destined to become one of her most favorite things: a music box, playing the lullaby Crawford always sings her before tucking her to sleep. Even when the prologue of my story takes place, in 1908, she still has it in perfect condition, and she still plays it out, whenever she feels frail and needs her papa's warm memory to comfort her.

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

"Long as the day in the summer time Deep as the wine dark sea I'll keep your heart with mine 'Til you come to me

There like a bird, I'd fly High through the air Reaching for the sun's full rays Only to find you there

And in the night when our dreams are still Or when the wind flows free I'll keep your heart with mine 'Til you come to me"

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

Stargazing is THE hobby for Dorothea, the one that earned her the moniker of "Morning Star". With Byron teaching her everything he knew about the starlit sky and how to navigate through those constellations, Dorothea spends each clear night sitting at her window, wondering about the deepest of thoughts, doing many hours of introspection in order to understand her own self better and sometimes, when she feels particularly melancholic, wondering if she would ever find a person that would love her for who she is. As for someone who she would want to stargaze with, the answer here is easy: Jacob. She loves to just sit with him and explain to him EVERYTHING about the starlit sky. Her eyes literally lit up when she explains all she knows to him.

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

Jacob's smile, his laughter, his voice, and his kind eyes. My girl cannot look at him for 5 minutes without becoming a babbling mess, all flustered and with cheeks burning so hot she can cook eggs on them. She got better with age, but even after having been married to him for so many years, when she looks at him deeply in the eyes, she finds herself wondering how lucky she was to have been given the opportunity to love him with all that she is. And these thoughts DO make her heart race like wild horses in a prairie.

thank you for these questions, I truly loved answering them.

#Dorothea Starrick #Replies #Friends #thanks for indulging me <3 #you have no idea what it means for me

[neneru-nowhere]

The Eighty Eight Sins of Neneru Ch 1

Laughter’s roar spilled out of the door as a blocky figure stumbled through. A roegadyn man, nearly as wide as he was tall, staggered away from the tavern, still singing the shanty his brothers had moved on from twenty minutes past. Uneven footsteps carried him to the edge of the water well and he began to unlace his kecks. A grunt and a glare from a nearby Brass Blade diverted him and the roegadyn grumbled, sauntering toward a dark patch between buildings and well beyond the gaze of the Blades.

He slouched as though deflating as he released his pressure. All towering nine fulm of him tipped and he came to rest his forehead gently against the adobe plaster of the building he relieved himself on. So involved in loosing his spent wine, he didn’t notice the figure creeping on him until it was too late

----------

Children rarely know the specifics of what concerns their parents bear, but never underestimate their ability to sense the currents. Neneru knew little of the Garleans erecting their Ceruleum plant mere malms away from the little farming community, was only aware of the war in the way it excited her sister Didiru. But she felt the undercurrent of fear running swift and cold beneath her family and the others who tended the fields alongside.

Neneru and Didiru were the youngest and the smallest. Most families around the farm were older, and the nearest in age were starting to have dibbuns of their own. This wasn’t to say they were small, but even at fourteen Nene spent most of her time inside her head. She rarely thought about the outside world at all unless it was daring tales of the Sultansworn or the stories adventurers brought when they stayed the night. She made exceptions for Didiru, though.

Violet haired and brilliant, the elder Didiru was the polar star as far as Neneru cared. Nearly old enough to marry, the other lalafell still made time for her baby sister. Whatever game Nene dreamed, Didi happily joined so long as she could decide her own role in the story. If Nene was a Sultansworn paladin, then that typically meant Didi played the wicked thaumaturge, burning the world around her and extorting the poor for money.

And yet…

“I’m going to the Ossuary someday,” she’d tell her family. “I’ll become a famous thaumaturge and we’ll never have to scrape for gil again.”

When they played, it was Neneru’s toy sword and shield–a gift carved by papa for Starlight–versus the staff Didi made with the horns of a fallen aldgoat and a pretty red stone pulled from a dry creekbed.

How could the world compete with what Neneru had? The little farm and open prairies, her parents and the extended family of hyur and roegadyn and other lalafell that worked the farm–And Didiru.

The fear and the tension ran its course in the soil and soul beneath the little farm, but it could be ignored for now. Those were mama and papa’s concerns. Those were the Sultana’s concerns. They were somebody else’s concern.

They only became her concern the night when the sky burned red and the moon leered large overhead.

----------

“The trick is in how you apply force,” the black-clad figure said matter-of-factly. Though they were factors smaller than the hulking roegadyn man, it had only taken a little ingenuity to rope him, drag him, and dangle him off the scaffolding clinging to the cliffside. “I use force multipliers, you see and–” they stopped, considering the still-screaming man. Maybe it was the alcohol, but to their mind he should have stopped once it was clear that the gag over his mouth would keep from alerting the Blades.

“You let your emotions rule you,” the little figure said. Beneath the mask and the hood their voice was hollow, an indistinct and flat timbre devoid of anything identifying–the voice of the dead. “That’s alright. We all have our vices. But you’re consumed by them.”

He kept up screaming, twisting and flailing like a hooked fish from a pole. The figure tsked, annoyed. They reached out with the item in her hand–a long, shallowly-hooked scythe. Steadying the rope’s jerking with it, they drew him near to where they stood safely on the wooden platform.

“Have you heard the story of the eighty-eight sins of Sasamo?”

Eyes wide, he shook his head.

“A long time ago, a princess named Sasamo Ul’Samo could not be contented with what she had. She felt a hole inside her which no amount of gil or finery or adoration could fill. And so she tried the only other thing she knew… Power.

“She sought to control those around and beneath her. She inflicted her misery, and her greed, and her lust for power on those around her. If you ask me, her sins were without count. But the sultan saw eighty-eight in his daughter. Fourty for those who she drew into her conspiracy, twenty for what she stole or destroyed before it was over, and twenty-eight for each paladin, guard, clerk, or family member who died before the coup was stopped.”

The figure unhooked the scythe from the rope and dropped it. The Roegadyn swung out above the chasm, muffled shrieks renewed. Casually, they clambered up onto the rail and hunched on her knees, staring at him. While he screamed, she continued her story, heedless of whether he was even listening.

“Now I’ve not counted, but I don’t think there are actually eighty-eight steps on the stairs of the same name. But it must have been near enough. Father beloved, the Sultan, would not execute his own kin no matter how lost she was. No matter how great her abuse of the people. So he gave her a sentence… You will walk these eighty-eight steps, eighty-eight times every day for eighty-eight days. And when you have completed these–”

They paused to count on their fingers.

“Six-hundred and eighty-one thousand and four-hundred and seventy-two steps, your sins will be forgiven. “So she walked. Eighty-eight days, eighty-eight steps eighty eight times. At first the people crowded around to jeer, throw trash, food, stones. They pelted her with their scorn and whatever was near to hand. Though food is precious in a desert and the people do not have the luxury of time to worry about the sins of the mighty. We are, after all, too busy trying to justify our existence to the powerful by our blood and sweat and tears. We must earn our daily bread.”

As the man’s struggles became weaker, the figure decided to speed up their story. “As it happens, on that eighty-eighty day, upon taking her eighty-ninth step of the eighty-eughth circuit, Sasamo Ul’Samo fell dead to the ground. Where the mighty would not execute her, it seems the gods deemed it necessary. I’m sure she’s still interred in the Arrzaneth Ossuary despite her crimes. I never bothered to look. But the moral of the story is thus:

“Even when the cowards look away, there is always someone who will mete out justice. Do you know why I’ve brought you here, Dour Granite?”

At the sound of the man’s name, the roegadyn came back to life. He shook his head so emphatically that the line quivered and creaked dangerously, rubbing on the exposed beam above.

The figure chuckled, the sound as flat as their voice. “Take care, friend. It would be an ignoble death to survive this only to die because you rubbed your own bonds loose. I care naught for your own sins, but one: Your complicity.”

That puzzled Dour Granite, and he paused to look at his captor. His eyes were large, reddened by fear and the blood rushing to his head.

“What complicity, you would ask, were you not tongue-tied.” Again that flat chuckle. Dour Granite shivered as though the unnatural sound ran a finger up his spine. “Your glad complicity in the sins of your masters Popokkuli and Seserukka. I know of what they get up to in their offices–and I know of the things you’ve done in the family name. Their father Fyregeiss must trust you implicitly. You must surely know things–or possess things that would be quite useful to someone seeking to balance Nald’thal’s scales.”

They leaned in close, their unseen eyes boring into Granite’s. “So tell me, Dour Granite, what must I know to reach the twins?”

When they pulled off the gag he immediately made to scream. A sharp slap from the scale gauntlet they wore cut him short.

“There are others I can access to get what I need,” the figure said. “You were merely available. Do not make the mistake of thinking yourself too important to kill.”

Sweat broke out on the man’s brow and he nodded. They had their chat and the figure was good to their word by the end of their time. They got up and, using the peculiar scythe, started to loosen the knot holding him at eye level.

“What is your name?” Granite asked, voice still shaking.

They looked over their shoulder at him. “Why, so you can take it back to your masters?”

“N-no, of course not.”

They laughed, a grating sound like slithering over dry leaves. “Don’t worry, you’ll live but I cannot leave you in any position to break the conspiracy before the twins are dead.” The knot came undone and Granite dropped three feet sharply before the scythe-haft caught the rope. He saw now, a pulley that ran through the line, several fulm back from where it had been tied to the timber.

“You can call me…” The black figure considered it for a moment. “You may call me a friend of Tartarus.”

And then they released the line.

To hear Granite tell the story later, they slowed the line just before he dropped in the river at the bottom of the misty chasm. But with his feet bound he still nearly lost his life to the rushing waters. When he was found, wandering and bewildered days later, the capital was in mourning for the lost lives of two of its wealthiest scions.

#chapter #ffxiv arr #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fanfic #roegadyn #ffxiv lalafell #lalafell #ffxiv paladin #paladin #black mage #thaumaturge

[alliluyevas]

not to make literally everything about mormonism but this actually reminds me of something that i noticed in my mormonism research...most of the letters/journal entries from the first couple generations of mormons (this would be stuff written by people born in roughly the 1830s-1860s and their parents), parents are either referred to as Ma and Pa or more formally as Mother and Father (I imagine probably a lot of these kids would have called their parents Ma and Pa day-to-day in verbal speech but sometimes are more formal in writing, and the use of “Mother and Father” tends to be either adults writing about their own parents or adult parents referring to themselves while writing to/about their kids)

but then by the late 19th century (kids born in the 1880s or 1890s) kids start referring to their parents as Mama and Papa. To me, “Ma and Pa” INSTANTLY makes me think Little House on the Prairie, which totally makes sense when you think about it because this is around the same time and early Mormons are very much frontier people. The kids who are referring to their parents as Mama and Papa later on tend to be from Salt Lake City and have grown up in a more urban educated and often more consistently well-off environment.

[babeyisbaby]

Dear Baby,

Hey, sweet pea. I hope you’re having fun with Papa while I’m away—but not too much fun. No breaking bones or getting cavities. You’re a good boy; I trust you to make good decisions.

I think you’d like it where I am. They’ve got me out in the middle of nowhere scouting horses. The ranch I’m at is surrounded by untouched prairie. It’s beautiful. I saw bright pink lady’s slipper flowers today; they reminded me of you.

Maybe next time I’ll bring you along with me. You can tell me all about ecology and the different kinds of grasses and whatever other sciencey shit stuff you geek out about.

I love you and miss you. I should be getting back next weekend so I’ll see you soon, babydoll!

With overwhelming affection,

Your Daddy Johnny 💙

PS: If Gyro reads this in that stupid hick accent he uses to imitate me, pinch him. Hard.

#💙.babey #letters to babey

[the-vault-apprentice]

❤️ family headcanon

Officially, she has two brothers.

Inexil, who is her brother by nature of being similar to her. They were wearing the same cape and the same outfit and carrying the same lantern when he found her in the Golden Wasteland. Right by the fire pit in the start- He wouldn't leave her alone until they lit candles and seeing how much like each other they were, they decided they MUST be siblings. He showed he where all the Winged Light was and helped her burn down the giant plant for the first time. He also helped her build the treehouse and navigate the wind paths. She doesn't understand WHY he lives in the Wasteland of all places, but she is always glad to see him.

Horizon (@always-anxious-skychild )is her brother by nature of being similar in ROLE. They are both from the Vault and they do not like very bright lights and he was very kind to her when she was new. Even if she was a little spooked at him showing up out of nowhere at first. He showed her the cozy cave hideout in the Prairie and they had tea and they talked for AGES and it felt very safe to her and she knew that out of everybody else who lives and works in the Vault of Knowledge, she was going to attach herself to him.

Both of them are older and taller than her, and both of them earned "brother" status by being someone she feels she can look up to, someone to learn from. An example of how to be, in some way or other, and a feeling that felt deeper than a friend.

Magnolia is somewhat of a little sister in her eyes (@llluckymaggie ) and she hopes to show her more of the world someday.

Kani doesn't know what the WORD "mother" means, but she sometimes feels something like it around Lamed. It is a feeling of CARE, she thinks.

Daleth is very old and knows many things. He is too old to be her papa- A word she hears from Alef and also doesn't quite understand- but she feels as if there is a SOMETHING connecting them.

Family is very much something she CHOOSES. After all, they all came from the Megabird, didn't they? So they are all connected SOMEHOW! Every Skykid she's ever met is family in some sense, then.... But some of them are strangers and some of them are friends and some are cousins and only a very select few can be called her brothers. Partially because there are only a very select few she feels comfortable being her own self around for very long.

#sky: children of the light #koulakani #wish upon a star #danelloevee