#probably won't come out to her though. she's one of the relatives whose feelings I actually respect. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-libra-writes · 2 years

Note

omg libra could you do like more hcs for tywin and his second wife? bonus points if she’s like relatively similar in age to tyrion(maybe a year or two older)

So I tend to HC the second-wife as being that young to begin with - because Westerosi lords are allergic to marrying any woman over 20 and she's still expected to give an heir (marrying older women only happens if she's a widow and has land).

So! I guess I'll do some general HC's? Some romantic ones and some domestic? Let's just roll with it

It's been said many times before, but nearly everyone underestimates her, including her family. She's really expected to just be a pretty set piece and baby maker, that's all.

So when she begins to run a tight ship at Casterly Rock, and when people notice the respect Tywin gives her and the duties she's given - well, they figure out it's best to please her if they also want to please Lord Tywin.

Those who stubbornly disregard her authority - this is quite a problem with visiting lords not from the Westerlands - they get a rude awakening. Tywin isn't afraid to outright throw an offending lord and his family out, and whose going to stop him? Those are the lucky ones, too. The unlucky ones have their names remembered and their reputations taking an ugly turn in the future...

On the more domestic side, the matter of her bedroom might cause some stir. In the South, couples traditionally sleep in separate bedrooms. I imagine Tywin and Joanna stayed in a room together, but she also had a separate bedroom with her wardrobe, a sitting area, a small library, and so on. After her death this was closed off. Her clothes, books, furniture and jewels weren't touched for a long time, then finally quietly packed away and stored in that room. The door hasn't been opened since Jaime and Cersei were children that couldn't contain their curiosity.

For the second wife, she'd have dwellings that were further down in the main hallway where the family's bedrooms are kept. Past the bedroom that Cersei demands be kept the way it's always been. Once they're closer she often stays in Tywin's room overnight, though they both dislike the handmaidens barging in. A few times he's stayed in her bedroom, and it's ... not unpleasant. It smells lovely, has a much cozier and has a lived-in feeling. He likes spotting the various gifts he's given her.

There's heavy expectations on how she ought to dress, as if everyone scrutinizing her actions wasn't bad enough. Tywin has had dozens of fanciful gowns made, from extravagant pieces for balls to more "casual" outfits for walking around the castle. While the dresses were initially fairly straightforward and always crimson with gold embroidery, as she and Tywin became closer, the gowns would be more customized and personal. Her favorite colors, embroidery representing both the lion and her house, especially flattering cuts ... and so on. Tho of course she can always call up a tailor and have gowns made according to her style if she'd like something less... Lannister.

Quiet evenings is an escape for the two of them. Tywin has a large and ostentatious study, and he's used to working quietly and alone, with nothing but a fire crackling or the gentle waves rolling outside the window. When his wife comes in, curls up on a plush settee and reads, he starts to get distracted. Tywin wouldn't admit to himself how much he glances up to watch her. Maybe hoping she'll look over her book and smile.

It brings back memories, and for once, remembering better times doesn't hurt quite so much. He still won't dwell on them, or tell you much about his early years ... it's not quite "healing", but it's something. Eventually she can convince him to side beside her and just ... talk. Not about politics or future plans, just conversation. This is a rare, tender moment in and of itself, and she's probably one of the few people to see Tywin like this.

#tywin lannister x reader #i trieeeddd sorreee #we need ourselves a second wife tag #libra headcanons

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wild-houseplant · 2 years

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Tank 🍰🍩

[i/d: headshot artificially generated image of a pale, freckly, blue-eyed human with black, slightly wavy hair that is cut short with a fringe that almost obscures their eyebrows. The person is not quite smiling, and is wearing a purplish t-shirt. end i/d]

Hi there my good anon friend whose name I cannot possibly guess ^_^ Thank you for the ask about Tanky Wanky! Hopefully this won't disappoint!

Okay, to give context to this ask, I'd better actually introduce you good bunch to Rhodri's cousin first. They won't be a main character, I don't think, but I sure have a lot of stories in my drafts featuring them. Deets and answer under the cut!

Tancred 'Tank' Magnegild Hawke (they/she) was born in Ferelden in 9:07 Dragon, three years before Rhodri showed up. Rhodri's mother Revka, her father Aurelio, and grandparents were the only relatives who hadn't shunned Leandra and Malcolm after they eloped. The Hawke family's constant uprooting to avoid the Templars was smoothed over greatly by funds and visits from Rhodri's family. Many of Tank's happiest memories are of arriving to a new hideout and sleeping six, seven, or eight to a room as the Hawke and Callistus children piled in together.

Though Tank is by nature affable and noisy (ADHD rep), they experience long bouts of selective mutism and speak Fereldan sign at decent fluency. They're full of Big Feelings, will cry at the drop of a hat, and try to hide this with wry, rude humour and a dose of the Amell Rebellion Streak. Disastrous bisexual who ends up in a polycule with Isabela and Fenris.

Notable roles for Tank include: Least Favourite Child; Rhodri’s Favourite Cousin; Friendly Chaotic Town Mechanic; and The Most Recalcitrant Blood Magic Student Malcolm Hawke Has Ever Had.

Now, on to the asks!

🍰: What's something your OC counts as unforgivable?

It'd have to be something egregious, that's for sure. Tank's pretty convinced that most bad things can be worked through. I'd say it would be something that wrecked a loved one's life to the point that it would either take many years to fix, or was irreversible. Palming Fenris off to Danarius would probably be an example.

🍩: What's a crime your OC is most likely to commit? What's a crime they're most likely to get arrested for?

AHAHAHAHAHA you know what? 200% pegging that they got done by Aveline at least once every few weeks for the very broad-spectrum crime of being a 'public nuisance.' I have one instance in my drafts where Aveline had to come and escort (read: haul) Tank and co. out of the Hanged Man because they were caterwauling filthy drunken odes to Fenris the Brassiere Remover at 3:30am.

#Thank you for the ask! :D #Tank Hawke

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freddieslater · 4 years

Text

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Enzo St. John x Maria DeLuca | Michael Quinn x Maggie James

Glancing up at the flashing neon sign above, Enzo doubts himself. Those damn travellers were so cryptic before they decided to spontaneously combust. The only thing they left behind was a note to him.

Find her. Roswell, New Mexico. Wild Pony.

For years, the thought of finding Maggie once he was finally free--because he was sure he would be, someday, somehow--was one of the only things that kept him going through it all. To thank her. To see that she got the life she deserved; a life full of love and happiness. A human life.

But a bar? She wanted to help people. He takes another quick look at the note, but sure enough, the sign reads the same name beneath the flashing image of a cowboy riding a horse.

Stuffing the slip of paper back into his jacket pocket, he shuts his car door and walks across the gravel to the entrance. He pulls the door open and steps inside.

The room's lit with soft lights, almost dim, just enough to feel welcoming. Chatter from the locals fills the air, a chuckle here or there from the tables. The quiet clatter of a pool cue hitting a ball over to his left, followed by a triumphant cheer and some lighthearted arguing.

He immediately decides that it's preferable over the Grill. Though perhaps that's because he's still unfamiliar here. Make a few enemies, specifically out of the bartender, and then it'll probably feel the same.

Not moving from the doorway, his eyes dart all across the room. They sweep from left to right, to right to left, taking in every face. None belonging to an elderly lady.

Disappointment sweeps through him briefly. Probably for the best, he thinks as the loud-mouthed rednecks at the pool table spout some distasteful language.

Ignoring them, he finally moves, making his way up to the back of the bar. Maybe the travellers sent him here to find one of her relatives, perhaps her child. Though he has no idea if he'd even recognize Maggie now, never mind a descendant of hers.

But when he reaches the bar and seeks out someone who'll be able to give him something to ease his frustrations, he stops dead. Proven wrong, it would seem, because he instantly recognizes the woman behind the bar, caught in the middle of a playful conversation with a rather tipsy man on a stool.

Except it's impossible. Not a feature has changed. She looks as young as the day he compelled her to forget him and walk out without ever looking back. Those dark eyes, so soft yet filled with life like a blazing match. The curve of her lips, that smile that filled his mind to replace the darkness everytime he closed his eyes.

It isn't possible. The only way...

His heart drops. He can't even stomach the thought. Compelling Maggie was meant to protect her, to keep her as far away from his world as possible. Unless she found another vampire more willing to turn her without knowing.

No. He refuses to believe that. But the proof is right there, undeniable. A relative, he tells himself. A daughter with an uncanny resemblance to her mother.

She notices him at last, her eyes flicking over to him. Straightening up and abandoning ber conversation in the process, she shoots him a warm, friendly smile that makes his throat close up.

"All right there?" she asks with a slight chuckle, eyeing him. "You look lost. Or like you've seen a ghost. Neither one uncommon here, surprisingly."

Enzo doesn't know what to say. He realizes she doesn't recognize him. Nothing in her expression or her eyes tells him she has the faintest idea who he is. Of course not, he chides himself. Because she's not Maggie.

"New in town, I take it?" she continues on anyway, apparently unbothered by his lack of response. "I know all of the local's faces; I should, considering I've lived here my whole life."

Something comes loose in his chest. Her whole life. Maggie wasn't from Roswell. There's a sinking feeling inside of him that he can't ignore no matter how he tries.

"Your whole life?" he hears himself ask faintly, forcing an interested smile onto his face. "Must really like this town."

The woman shrugs. "It's my home. But" --she leans both hands on the bar, grinning at him now with that same spark in her eyes-- "with an accent like that, I can see I was right in saying it's not yours."

Enzo huffs out a chuckle and nods. "You caught me. I've visited before, though. Couple times, long time ago."

Her eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit and her head tilts in curiosity as she stares at him. He can see her trying to recall him.

"Weird," she says after a beat. "I feel like there's no way I would forget someone like you..."

She trails off somewhat pointedly, expecting an introduction. He opens his mouth to give it despite his better judgment, but she beats him to it, holding a hand up to stop him.

"Wait, hold on, I'm psychic. Let me take a shot at this."

Her eyes are wide and excited, and he can barely bring himself to be fazed by the claim of being psychic. There's a snort from down the bar from the man she'd been talking to.

She rolls her eyes but otherwise ignores him, her attention fixated on Enzo. Keeping their gazes locked, her eyes narrow. It's taking everything in him not to give anything away. If she's really psychic, somehow, then that won't be a problem.

"I think that... your name is... Michael." As soon as the name falls from her lips, there's a guffaw from her friend and she groans. "Oh, tell me I'm wrong."

But Enzo's heart has stopped again. Michael was the name he had on his file when she was working at Augustine. Dr. Whitmore had taken him from the Air Force, while he was still under his alias of Captain Michael Quinn. It's what Maggie knew him as him until he confessed his real name a few months before she left.

"Just can't get me off your mind, can you, DeLuca?" her friend says, evidently enjoying himself a great deal. He turns to Enzo. "I'm Michael, by the way. The person that the lovely Maria here claims to despise, and yet..."

He waves a hand as if providing all the evidence he needs to make his point. Maybe that's it, Enzo thinks, and his mind catches the name this Michael uses. Maria. Not Maggie. Similar but not the same. Maria DeLuca, by the sounds of it. Not James.

Maria scoffs and aims the towel in her hand at Michael, who merely laughs and dodges the blow of it.

"Ignore him," she tells Enzo, turning back to him.

He laughs it off as well. "That's okay. Maria, was it?"

She nods, her lips pressing together in a smile again. "That's right, mysterious stranger whose name is definitely not Michael. Sorry about that. Sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm wrong. It happens."

Part of him is tempted to tell her she's not wrong. After all, he was Michael for over ten years. Who's to say that means it isn't still part of his identity?

"Well, it is my middle name, so not entirely wrong," he decides to say. "I'm Lorenzo. People usually just call me Enzo."

Maria's face lights up, her smile brightening. "Middle name is good enough for me. And it's nice to meet you, Enzo. So, what can I get for you?"

"Er, just a bourbon, please."

He hesitates, then takes a seat on one of the stools. His eyes stay glued to her as she pours him a bourbon. How is this even possible?

Doppelgangers exist. He knows that far too well from his brief time in Mystic Falls, but that was a curse. Maggie was never in the middle of some two-thousand-year-old love affair involving vengeful travellers. As far as he's aware.

Maria sets the glass down in front of him. He thanks her and slides the money over before taking a long drink. At this rate, he's going to need a lot more than one glass.

"So, Enzo," Maria says, and pain spikes through his heart at hearing that same voice say his name again after all these years. "What brings you to our lovely but ultimately boring little town? Is it the aliens?"

He can't help but laugh at that. Once upon a time, it was in fact the aliens that brought him here.

"No, no, though I wouldn't mind seeing a few," he jokes, and is pleased when she laughs, too. He then sighs. "But I'm looking for someone. A woman I used to know. We... lost touch for a while."

Maria frowns. "Oh. Well, what's her name? Like I said, I know everyone in this town. If she's been here, I'll remember."

He stares at her for a moment. I'll remember. Something about the way she says it sends a shiver through him.

"Maggie James," he says before he can process he's doing it. "Her name's Maggie James."

For the briefest flicker of a moment after he says it, he admittedly expects recognition to flash across her face and for her to say that's her mother's name. Or an auntie. Someone in her family, something to explain this, because he can't think of a single logical explanation otherwise.

But her eyes stay blank and distant, still frowning. Then he notices that her frown has actually deepened. More thought than required for remembering a name of a stranger you met once or twice. And the blank look in her eyes is too blank, like they've glazed over, completely detached from reality.

Enzo's heartbeat quickens. Her expression twitches. It's a tiny movement, invisible to the human eye. But he catches it, and everything crashes down inside of him. It's the look of someone trying to unearth a memory buried beneath layers of compulsion. Just below the surface but forever unreachable.

Then she blinks, and it's as if she's thrust back into her body. She straightens up a little too quickly, her eyes wide and dazed. But alert. And lost.

"Nope," she says, and shakes her head, reverting back to her casual composure from before. "Sorry. Doesn't ring any bells."

He can hear the lie in her voice. Feel it from her. It did ring a bell, just one she couldn't quite hear. Muffled by his own doing. Or something else, he just wouldn't know what. It can't just be his compulsion. It doesn't explain why she'd still be this young, why she has a completely different identity and life. None of it makes sense.

"Don't worry about it," he tells her, plastering on another careful smile. "I'm sure I'll find her."

He doesn't know why, but it feels like the truth. Something tells him he won't have to look far. It's just more complicated now, is all. But when has he not loved a few complications here and there? They're what make things interesting.

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rose-director · 3 years

Text

Blooming Roses, part 2

Content warnings/themes:

Masks

Medical situations

Neural connection/linkings

Hypnotic imagery

Corporate setting

Cyberpunk

Description:

As the next step in the hiring process, 3B90 is presented with a more permanent reciever system for network integration.

~2,200 words

Story:

3B90 > [Okay, and this won't hurt at all?] Trepidation and concern pour generously through your connection, mirroring the way they've been saturating your thoughts.

2CE5 > [No, there's no reason to worry. You'll be under some pretty strong anesthetics, though you'll be pretty disoriented in recovery.] A flash of comfort rides with this message, wrapping around your mind like a warm hug.

You're sitting in the waiting room segment of the Rose Cybernetics Augmentation Lab, an entire subset of the building devoted to fabricating, modifying, and installing cybernetic modifications and enhancements. Though the lab extends several floors down into the basement, the room you find yourself in is just below the massive building's main entrance. Relative to the area it services, the space itself is fairly small. Its walls are lined with more conventional chairs, complemented by several other more vexing pieces of... furniture? Your thoughts wander back to that first visit, and you still aren't quite sure what qualifies as furniture versus art.

2CE5 > [The furniture itself _is_ art! It gives pleasant visual patterns and all of that, _and_ it's ergonomic for the standard and non-standard body shapes of everyone who uses it!]

You need to stop broadcasting your thoughts when they drift like that.

2CE5 > [Aww, but 3B... it's cuuuute!]

The screen adorning your face lights up brighter in a begrudging grin. Sure, it's fun to get teased over your thoughts every once and a while, but you could do with a bit more privacy. 2C always makes it so easy to just share everything, but you find that as you reminisce on the events of yesterday, you've successfully put a stopper on the outpouring of thoughts from your mind into the LinkNet. For the interview, you'd booked an overnight hotel, and though the commute back had been pleasant, you'd felt deflated as you stepped back inside. The warmth of connection, that feeling of presence from the interview felt almost like a high, one you crashed from the moment your faceplate came off.

Your faceplate.

It's funny how everything seems to make so much more sense than it did yesterday morning. When you got back to that hotel room, you couldn't seem to help but yearn for the feeling of cold glass pressed against your face again, the paradoxical feeling of being seen and hidden all at once. Thinking about the way that data flowed through your mind, uploads and downloads streaming with the simple ease of breathing, you spent the night restless. You missed it all dearly, and you missed 2C, too. It's weird, you think, missing someone so desperately when you'd barely even met, but the whole situation is weird. In the stretch of less than an hour, you'd felt almost as though her soul had become pressed against yours, and in a way that seems almost accurate. The presence of her mind with yours was one of the most enrapturing moments you'd ever shared with another person. This morning, checking out of your hotel was the easiest departure you'd made in your entire life.

Your personal items, wardrobe, and computer were all accounted for when you stepped back through the doors of the Rose Cybernetics Center. At the desk, a new face - or, well, faceplate? - waited cheerily to greet you. They introduced themself as 13A3, and asked you to follow them to your on-campus housing. This benefit, one that didn't actually subtract from the pay Rose Cybernetics had offered, was quite, frankly the reason you'd chosen to pursue employment here specifically. Other firms had been hiring fairly aggressively, but even if the salary wasn't quite as sweet here, you'd always been a fan of the self-contained arcology life, especially if it was already paid for. An elevator had brought you to a floor above the block of office space from your last visit, into the area which seemed to be clearly intended for residential use. When they reached your apartment's door, 13A1 made the equivalent of a smile - the flowers that covered their display blossomed further - and ushered you inside.

Your apartment was a studio; an open kitchenette next to the door, a bathroom in the far corner, and a section of the far wall that seemed to suggest its utility as desk space. Even if it was a fairly small apartment, it was still the largest space you'd ever had to yourself, and you savored it a moment before noticing the furniture. Aside from the lack of a desk, the entire room was full of your things, set exactly as you were planning to have them when you got around to unpacking. 13 giggled and explained that you'd shared your plans for the room last time you were connected to the network. You shrugged, picking up a box from where it had been placed on your bed. It was black and unassuming just like the last one, but a note had been written in silver marker along the top.

You get to actually keep this one! Enjoy~

2CE5

You broke out in a broad smile and eagerly pressed the contents of the box against your face. The receiver pressed against your neck, and the tug of its electromagnets pulled at your mind with sudden familiarity. Far from that first violent experience, this connection was nothing more than a gentle fall into warm, relaxing water. Data flowed up and down from you again, and before you had time to think you felt 2C's mind pressing into yours. In a quick flurry of communication, she explained that you were cleared to get fitted for a permanent receiver, something far better suited for long-term network synchronization. You still feel excitement at that thought; remaining synchronized for as long as you wish, always able to return to that closeness that you'd never even realized you yearned for until you finally had it. A quick trip back down the elevator and a goodbye to 13A3 later, and you were waiting anxiously for the integration process to be ready.

Returning to the events around you, you relax into the presence of 2C's mind next to yours.

3B90 > [Sure, it's cute, but I need at least _some_ privacy!] You transmit your current emotional state, somewhere between teasing and flirty - quickly seeming to be the default around 2C - alongside that thought.

2CE5 > [That's true, that's true.] The feeling of her thoughts is just as intoxicating as ever, and you can't help but melt into the sensation of her pleasant warmth. 3B90 > [So, you mentioned that after I get my new receiver I'll be able to share my mind like this with _everyone?_]

2CE5 > [Yeah, pretty much! It sounds intimidating, but the best way to do it is mesh in slowly.] Her connection wordlessly relays the process by which new connections are established; both sides of the link engage in a three-way SYN/ACK handshake, a fancy way to say that each participant agrees to establish a link with the other. [It's best to synchronize with folks you've already said hi to, at least. Ease into it, you're probably not ready for more than a couple at a time just yet.] She was right; if you were being honest with yourself, you're barely able to handle the one you share with 2C! [Yeah, I can be a bit of a handful,] she sends, smugness dripping from her link.

3B90 > [Look, it's a lot is all...] Your thoughts branch and fork in too many ways to concisely share before merging once again. [It's amazing, but it's... a lot.]

The two of you fall silent, letting understanding wash between yourselves. Even in the last hour, it's been a refreshing experience getting to share such idle comforts between each other like this. It's amazing, knowing that even with her halfway across the building from you, it feels as though you're sitting right by her side. Over the last few hours, it's finally dawned on you that 2C being appointed as your supervisor doesn't really make much sense. As your mind follows that path further along, you come upon another realization.

3B90 > [I'm not distracting you from work, right?] You flash a breath of concern into your words.

2CE5 > [No, don't worry about that! When you're as used to the network as I am, you learn to multitask. Actually, I'm having five different conversations right now!]

You feel a mixture of trepidation and delight at the thought. Sharing a mind like this is more delightful than anything you've experienced before, but it's so much to take in. You're sure it'll come with time, and 2C seems to agree, but the worry lingers. After another moment of silence, a tech whose display shows a gently swaying forest enters the waiting room and - by your best estimation - makes eye (faceplate?) contact with you. A notification pings in your visor, a request to engage with a new communication stream. 2C gently urges you to accept the request, and fades away to make room for a new consciousness on a new endpoint. The feelings, sensations, and overall feel of self that you get from the technician are so different! Your mind recoils from the feeling for a moment, surprised at the unexpected change. You know that everyone thinks differently, but seeing this first hand as new and unexpected patterns swirl through you feels no less surprising. After the momentary shock, you realize that the tech had said something that you completely missed. Apologetic explanatory feelings flow up through your connection, quickly met by a response.

F211 > [Hey, it's alright. The second connection's always a lot to deal with, especially when you have to disconnect from someone you were comfortable with before.] The technician wordlessly introduces himself, and informs you that he'll be integrating your new receiver systems. You're already familiar with the procedure, but he shares its details with you once more, asking for your verbal consent. It feels strange to use your mouth to talk, even after just a day, but you acquiesce. Your voice is weak and breaking, stating that you agree to and fully understand the details of the modification. You'd forgotten how hard it was to get words out in the way you wanted, and that frustration flows back through you for a moment before it's caught by a wave of reassurance from F211. [That's exactly what I needed, thank you. You're good on 'paperwork', so follow me and we can get started! I know you've been waiting long enough.] A strong breeze blows through the trees of his display, and you think it seems to coincide with a good-natured smile. His initial sensation was so different, but after a moment of acclimation, you like the feeling of his mind almost as much as you enjoy 2C's. It might be the imagery adorning his faceplate, but the feel of him is sharp like the smell of pacific-northwestern pine, sharing that tree's unassuming, gentle strength. He feels surprisingly safe, which, you suppose, is good for someone performing delicate and precise modifications to the composition of your brain.

Your new friend leads you out from the lobby, and down a hallway adorned with sterile white tiling as well as the occasional splash of color painted in polygonal designs along the wall. You broadcast your curiosity over the patterns, feeling F211's response satiate your wonder. The art is intentionally added to ensure that the area's sterile environment remains unique and interesting. Whether it accomplishes this goal, it certainly appears visually interesting. F211 laughs at this thought loudly between your connection, but shows no outward indication of amusement. You're still going to have to get used to how uncanny that is. He guides you to a room at the end of this hallway. Large and circular, this room is ringed by various lights and other mechanical instruments draping from the ceiling, directly above what looks like a reclining chair. The technician invites you to take a seat, and as you do, the chair slowly conforms itself to your shape until it feels as though it was made for you.

F211 > [Everything's set, are you ready to go?]

3B90 > [Ready as I could ever be.] Actually sitting here, your anxiety begins to build. You want this, and it's part of the next step to your work here, but all the same those machines above you look a bit more intimidating than you would like. F211 recognizes your heartrate picking up, and wordlessly asks if it would help to have a hand on your shoulder. You return a wave of gratitude and a flash of green along your screen, and his touch saps away a good deal more of that worry than you expected it to. He sends feelings of reassurance, gently letting you relax. Before you recognize what's happening, he's already counting down from ten, and you feel your voice reflexively mirror the countdown's progress. With each number, you sink lower, deeper, as everything fades into... empty, perfect nothing. Far away, a gas fills your faceplate, letting that nothing surround you until you drift into unconsciousness.

#more good facemask content baybeeee #I just made F211 but I would die for him #also #things are gonna get *fun*

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trickstersantana · 7 years

Conversation

[Call in Spanish] ???

[She sees a unknow number calling her. She picks it up expecting to hear from his fake uncle]

???: Hola Niebla! I'm so happy to be able to contact you again. How are you?

[She didn't even know if she should be happy or fear for her life, like anything related to her "family"]

Santana: You can even speak in spanish now! And with my usual nickname, how charming.

Jesús: Yes! It's great to not hide things. I saw in your website you celebrated your day on May this year! Did you feel like changing it? I though now you prefered November to celebrate.

Santana: Yeah, well, it was a busy November and I missed a lot of months, so, you know, why not May? But it wasn't a good date, now I hope everyone forgets about it so I can change it to a better month. Though I'm still a scorpio at hearth, of course...and...are you readi-... Stop reading my blog!

Jesús: But it's a perfect way of communication!! Was it good even when you celebrated it alone?

Santana: What? How... how ... I didn't... what makes you think I celebrated it alone?

Jesús: No one else showed up at the place

Santana: WHY DID YOU EVEN CAME?? I SAID. NO PEOPLE COMING WHOSE NAMES START WITH J ... UGH, DID ANYONE READ MY POST? I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO COME

Jesús: But it was your special day! What's a special day without your relatives?

Santana: ...Why do you use the plural of relatives if it was just you

Jesús: Also my name doesn't start with a...Oh! my Darling also came along! And Cabrón, and Nails, and Doorframe, and Tibula, and Bitter, and Head!

[...]

Santana: WHAT THE FUCK

Santana: Also, ew, are you still with Darling?? Gross. She deserves better please leave her alone

Santana: BUT WHAT THE HELL

Santana: EVEN DOORFRAME CAME? I THOUGH HE DISAPPEARED

Santana: Are you fucking kidding me???? How did you all even came???

Jesús: The power of love! And portals, of course! Why wouldn't we came to see you! We love you! It was a nice reunion, we remembered you dearly and talked lots about you

Santana: I can't fucking...

Santana: I fucking hate NYADA and homeworks

Santana: You must be kidding me... everyone came... how do you all even have accest to portals... you must be kidding me

Jesús: Nothing can't stop the power of love, Niebla!! Surely, you couldn't come to see us, but what matters is that we were there and-spended-the-few-possibilities we had to come to New York to see you! Probably we can't have all access to a portal to go to the same place again, of course. But what really matters is thatour love reaches to you. I wanted to record a video of us congratulating you but they all though it could be incriminatory.

Santana: I. Hate. You.

Jesús: But fear not, my dear false little sister! Because your big "bro" remembered everything and will make the illusion version of it so you can enjoy it!!!

Santana: YOUR ILLUSIONS SUCKS

Santana: THEY LOOK LIKE 1945 CGI!

Santana: I CAN'T BELIEVE I MISSED YOU ALL I HATE EVERYTHING I FUCKING HATE THIS LIFE AND THIS PLACE AND THIS FUCKING FLUFFY THINGS THAT ARE FOLLOWING ME EVERYWHERE I HATE IT AND I HATE YOU FUCK YOU LAZARUS FUCK YOU

[Santana keep cursing in spanish for a while, but her fake uncle didn't lost his optimist and happy tone]

Jesús: Niebla... you didn't miss us

Santana: Don't say it

Jesús: Because...

Santana: Don't

Jesús: We...

Santana: No

Jesús: ...live in your heart.

Santana: Oh my fucking God fo fuck yourself with a cactus

Jesús: I won't! [He said, in the same happy tone. She then heard a femenine voice calling his name over the phone.] I shall leave now! Bye bye, I love you lots I will call you again soon!!

Santana: Wait wait, was that Darling?

Jesús: I love you bye!! I love you

[He hang out. Leaving Santana with so, so many questions]

#///this is like the translated version #tw: violence #call: npc #call: ???#chara: jesus #fake family tag

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njawaidofficial · 6 years

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35 Famous People You Won't Believe Are Actually Related To Each Other

https://styleveryday.com/35-famous-people-you-wont-believe-are-actually-related-to-each-other/

35 Famous People You Won't Believe Are Actually Related To Each Other

Holy crap…

Jesse Eisenberg and Hallie Eisenberg are siblings:

You know Jesse from The Social Network, and you defffffinitely remember Hallie as the Pepsi girl in the late ’90s.

—orangejoe

Columbia Pictures / Pepsi

Kerry Washington and Colin Powell are cousins:

Yup! Olivia Pope herself is related to America’s former Secretary of State.

—Anna Rossmoor, Facebook

ABC / youtube.com

Jonah Hill’s sister is Beanie Feldstein:

Jonah Hill has two Oscar nominations under his belt (for Moneyball and The Wolf of Wall Street), and I have a feeling his sister (Neighbors 2 and Lady Bird) will soon catch up to him.

—primavolta

NBC / A24

Hugh Grant and Thomas Brodie-Sangster are cousins:

Actually, I love these Love Actually stars.

—anastasiapopovic

Universal Pictures

instagram.com

Kyle Massey and Chris Massey are brothers:

AKA Cory from Disney Channel’s That’s So Raven and Michael from Nickelodeon’s Zoey 101.

—keeleym2

Disney Channel / Nickelodeon

Kelly Clarkson’s mother-in-law is Reba McEntire:

Reba is the stepmother to Kelly’s husband, and together they have six Grammy Awards, including 27 total nominations.

—victorias4cb217152

ABC / Southern Living youtube.com

Blake Lively is half-siblings with Robyn Lively and Jason Lively:

Blake is known for her role on Gossip Girl, but her half-siblings are ’80s icons, with Robyn Lively starring in Teen Witch and Jason Lively portraying Rusty in National Lampoon’s European Vacation.

—Nathanael Cabral, Facebook

Lionsgate / Trans World Entertainment / Warner Bros.

And Blake Lively’s brother-in-law is Bart Johnson:

AKA Troy Bolton’s dad in High School Musical!

—jordans43125d2f3

Lionsgate / Disney Channel

Jamie Lee Curtis is the daughter of Janet Leigh and Tony Curtis:

Jamie Lee Curtis is, of course, known for her roles in the Halloween series and Freaky Friday. Her Oscar-nominated parents are Hollywood royalty, with Janet Leigh starring in Psycho and Tony Curtis starring in Some Like it Hot.

—annakopsky

Disney / Paramount / United Artists

Whitney Houston and Dionne Warwick are cousins:

And they each have seven Grammy Awards to their names. Icons.

—lajaaaam

Warner Bros. / youtube.com

Sara Gilbert and Melissa Gilbert are sisters:

Even though they have the same last name, it’s kinda weird to think that Darlene from Roseanne and Laura from Little House on the Prairie are related.

—dougfancy101290

ABC / NBC

Rachel Brosnahan’s aunt is Kate Spade:

You know Rachel Brosnahan from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and you probably own something from Kate Spade (her fashion empire is worth hundreds of millions of dollars, FYI).

—Megan Gallegos, Facebook

Amazon / youtube.com

Ron Howard is Bryce Dallas Howard’s father:

The Oscar winner’s daughter stars in Jurassic World and the best episode of Black Mirror: “Nosedive.”

—k4c33bd126

ABC / Universal Pictures

Taissa Farmiga and Vera Farmiga are sisters:

The American Horror Story star is the younger sister to Oscar-nominee Vera Farmiga, who you probably recognize from Up in the Air and Bates Motel.

—jnuy

FX / Paramount Pictures

Bianca Lawson is Beyoncé’s stepsister:

Bianca Lawson has been playing a teenager on TV for decades, recently adding a new role to her resumé: stepsister to Queen Bey.

—tomasadik

MTV / youtube.com

Shirley MacLaine and Warren Beatty are siblings:

Both are Oscar winners, with 20 nominations between the two of them.

(Also, go watch Shirley in The Apartment right now if you’ve never seen it. You’re welcome.)

—jackj43a91e854

youtube.com / BBC

Dakota Johnson’s mom is Melanie Griffith, and her grandmother is Tippi Hedren:

You definitely know Dakota from the Fifty Shades series. Her mom, Melanie Griffith, is an Oscar nominee for Working Girl, the iconic ’80s flick. Tippi Hedren, Dakota’s grandmother, is still acting today, and you probably remember her from Hitchcock’s The Birds.

—laurenb4c686df00

Universal Pictures / 20th Century Fox / Universal Pictures

Ashlee Simpson’s mother-in-law is Diana Ross:

Ashlee is married to Evan Ross, whose mother is Diana Ross.

—aimeem4

youtube.com / Harpo Productions

And Tracee Ellis Ross is Diana Ross’s daughter:

You definitely know Tracee from Girlfriends and her Emmy-nominated work in Black-ish. Icons!

—margaretteps

instagram.com / instagram.com

Julia Roberts is Emma Roberts’s aunt:

Okay, okay, so you probably know this one already. But did you know that Julia’s brother/Emma’s dad is Oscar-nominee Eric Roberts?

—juliareznikov

Columbia Pictures / Fox

Gwyneth Paltrow’s mom is Blythe Danner:

Yup. Pepper Potts’s mom is actually Dina from Meet the Parents. Crazy! Between the two actresses, they have an Oscar, three Emmys, and a Golden Globe.

—lorim43d246285

BBC / youtube.com

Jason Sudeikis is George Wendt’s nephew:

The Saturday Night Live and Horrible Bosses star is related to Norm from Cheers.

—courtneyl42412d617

Warner Bros. Pictures / NBC

Billie Lourde’s mom is Carrie Fisher, and her grandmother is Debbie Reynolds:

You know Billie from Scream Queens, but her late mom will always be known as Princess Leia (and a fantastic writer), and her late grandmother will be remembered as Kathy from Singin’ in the Rain or Aggie Cromwell from Halloweentown.

—sorryimheather

instagram.com / instagram.com

Minnie Riperton is Maya Rudolph’s mom:

And Maya’s re-creation of her mom’s famous album cover for Perfect Angel is truly perfect.

—kendalyns

Scorbu Productions / NBC

Mariska Hargitay’s mom is Jayne Mansfield:

And both of them have a Golden Globe Award: Mariska for her work in Law & Order: SVU, and Jayne for her work in The Girl Can’t Help It.

—lorim43d246285

NBC / 20th Century Fox

Charlie Sheen and Emilio Estevez are brothers:

Charlie Hopper from Two and a Half Men and Coach Gordon Bombay from Mighty Ducks are brothers, and their dad is Martin Sheen!

—j40a7cdd5d

Hemdale Film Corporation / Universal Pictures

Emily Deschanel and Zooey Deschanel are sisters:

Sure, the last name gives it away, but it’s still wild to think that Temperance Brennan from Bones and Jess Day from New Girl are siblings.

—hayden44e

Fox / Fox

Snoop Dogg is cousins with Brandy and Ray J:

Talent runs in this family, with 29 Grammy nominations between the three of them (i.e. just Snoop and Brandy).

—singhaditya101010

instagram.com / Disney / Fox

Angelina Jolie is Jon Voight’s daughter:

They have six Oscar nominations between the two of them, including two wins (Jolie for Girl, Interrupted and Voight for Coming Home), and Jolie has an additional Honorary Oscar.

—lizforest1394

Universal Pictures / Buena Vista Pictures

Phil Collins is Lily Collins’s dad:

You know Phil Collins as an eight-time Grammy Award winner (and the reason you always ball your eyes out during Tarzan), but his daughter is a Golden Globe-nominated actress who you probably know from The Blind Side, Mirror Mirror, or Stuck in Love.

—nance23

CBS / Millennium Entertainment

Rob Schneider’s daughter is Elle King:

The Saturday Night Live alum is a staple in Adam Sandler films, and his daughter is a famous singer who has three Grammy nominations under her belt.

—jasonfunderberker

Buena Vista Pictures / NBC / instagram.com

Ashley Judd and Wynonna Judd are sisters:

Ashley is a two-time Golden Globe nominee, while her sister has four Grammy nominations.

—savannahroseh4d4392582

ABC / youtube.com

Anthony Perkins’s son is Oz Perkins:

You know Anthony Perkins from Psycho, and you’ll probably recognize his son as Dorky David from Legally Blonde.

—elizabethannb3

Paramount Pictures / MGM

And Halle Berry is somehow related to Sarah Palin:

And her reaction to the news is perfect: “I said, ‘Noooo!!!’ Some twisted way — somebody sent me this information that she was my distant [relative].”

—jennav4d4a1fd7f

CBS / NBC

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