#BISABUELOS

[filodendron63]

Gracias.

[sudaca-swag]

hoy me enteré de que el bisabuelo de mi novio era amante de juana de ibarbourou. nada, decir que si el bisabuelo era como su bisnieto, juana no la pasaba para nada mal.

[tokruta]

A follow-up to my Miguel as Miguel Rivera's great-grandson post:

Just thinking about one of the Spiders from either the later half of the 20th century or the early 21st century playing some Ernesto de la Cruz music and Miguel bolts his ass down the hall to rip the device apart and then he storms away with no explanation.

Everyone now knows he hates Ernesto de la Cruz, but no one knows why. So people come up with wild theories, anything from de la Cruz being a time-traveling musical villain in his dimension to Miguel having a failed music career and being jealous of "the greatest musician ever". Those whose dimensions are after de la Cruz got exposed stay quiet bc the theories are funnier than just assuming Miguel really hates this specific murderous fraud from well over a century ago.

Meanwhile, Miguel just stomps his way back to his hidey hole and plays his bisabuelo's music (especially his covers of Hector's songs) loudly to calm down. Then he calls him and they talk about their hatred of Ernesto de la Cruz 🥰, he loves talking shit with his 100-year-old bisabuelo lol

[extraordinarymachinee]

very last minute post as you can tell by the candles lol but here’s my ofrenda this year <3

[pepoboyz]

artfight attack on @hygalax 🐛🐛

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

Dan ganas de darle con mi patín de 30kg en la cara

[generaldavila]

50 AÑOS DE LA MUERTE FRANCO. ¡VIVA EL REY! ¿Y AHORA QUÉ? Rafael Dávila Álvarez. General de División (R.)

  Iniciamos 2025 con polémica: que si Franco, la dictadura, que si el Rey, la libertad, que si este o el otro Rey, que si cincuenta años de muerte o de resurrección. El próximo día 8 de enero tendrá lugar un acto que en sí mismo podríamos denominar de provocación. Nación de naciones. Ha llegado el día de los dinamiteros que se unen as los sepultureros. La España del 31, 34 y 36 resucita ante una…

[polkadotzavala]

an unironically favorite part of my week is watching alma's way on pbs kids w one of my individuals

its genuinely such a good show i would absolutely share with a child if i was like babysitting

[lalocamposhernandez]

Los tiempos viejos y los nuevos.

[biracy]

You are all so fucking stupid godbless

Free association under international law (a status in which a former colony achieves the separate sovereignty of independence while entering into a revocable power-sharing arrangement with a larger nation)

[jamp15]

Cómo te sentiste al saber que Mychael es tan viejo?

Es una locura pensar que lleva cientos de años vivo, pero aún así, su ingenuidad nos hace creer que es un adolescente o un adulto joven XD

Holaa! Gracias por la pregunta. :D♡

La verdad es que al principio creí que tenía de unos 20 a 25 años, a simple vista, no aparenta una edad mayor.

Hasta que luego averiguando me di cuenta que es como +100 años mayor, solo que envejece más "lento" que un humano. Soy la más asalta tumbas que hay así que me gusto más cuando descubrí que me triplica la edad por mucho y lo primero que pensé fue "Abuelito ven a mi, abuelito" Jaja.

Lo quiero mucho aunque podría ser mi bisabuelo...

[sudaca-swag]

lo que me llenan las bolas hablando del mate, el mate no es de ningún estado moderno del siglo XIX es guaraní, y por eso los territorios dónde siempre hubo presencia guaraní lo consumen o se piensan que lo invento el bisabuelo tano

[hunterbunter3000]

This is so random but I need to know what type of girl sweetheart is when she stubs her toe or something like that dose I feel like she might be the type of person to say 50 different curses in under 30 seconds or would she moan (guilty of being this type of person😔) ORRR would she just mummble shit under her breath and sounds like she curesing someone I NEED TO KNOW-🪼

LOLL THIS IS RANDOM I LOVE IT

I feel like she would totally mumble under her breath when she stubs her toe, but if the pain is severe, then it sounds like Babayaga cursing you to eternal damnation 💀💀

141Sweetheart, stubs toe on chair: ow! sonovabitchstupidasschair--

141Sweetheart, knocks her elbow on the door: AAAOWW QUE SE JODAN TUS BISABUELOS Y TUS ANCESTROS AL INFIERNO

Alejandro:

Alejandro, picking out his suit for their wedding: she can speak spanish, too? F u c k

And also you moan when you get hurt?? 🤨📸��

[latinotiktok]

Le estábamos armando el árbol genealógico a mí hermana para una tarea y resulta que no tenemos ni una foto de mí bisabuelo Francisco porque el chabon era un GATO!!!, tenía como 3 familias y se enteraron una de la existencia de la otra en SU FUNERAL, no son todos putas son uno más puta que la otra ahre

[elbiotipo]

tenés un ave favorita? iba a preguntar especificamente argentina pero si adoras un bicho o tal vez una criatura de algun otro lugar quiero saberlo

SÍ, LOS PIRINCHOS

(Guira guira)

Para los que nunca vieron uno caminando por ahí, son lo más parecido a velociraptores que existen en nuestra era geológica. Son geniales. Mi bisabuelo los tenía de mascota.

[youareiron-andyouarestrong]

Ooh if you’re still in your jyncass era prayer beads for the November prompts? If not feel free to apply to any pairing you like

Kassa remembers Mami's beads.

A multi-strand bracelet wrapped around her wrist, made out of smooth, dark brown wood, each one lovingly carved by Kassa's bisabuelo, handed down from father to father to daughter. Each one knotted on the long, tough fibers they used to weave their cloaks. Mami would thumb off each bead and say, Stella. Benedicíon. Rosa. Teo. Benedicíon.

Depending on the family, some bead strings would have twenty, thirty, maybe even forty. Kassa's family was the only one in the whole village that had fifty-five. He'd been so proud of that, fifty-five ancestors, and each name spoken like a blessing.

The beads were beautiful, but they weren't meant for just prayer. Mami could flick her wrist and snap them out like a whip; wrap them twice around an opponent's neck before they could make a step towards her. Once they were older, Mami had promised to teach him and Kerri how to use them. The day the Imperials came to Kenari, Mami had unwound the beads from where they lived around her wrist, and prayed through gritted teeth: "Franco. Ayúdanos." Franco had been the name of Kassa and Kerri's abuelo. That's when Kassa truly understood the trouble they were in. You only ever called upon the ancestors if you were in the direst need.

Mama had been wearing the beads when she and Papa had been killed. Kassa had unwrapped the beads from around her wrist and taken them back to the remains of the village, now the camp where and all the other children and teenagers slept. Between him and Kerri, they slept with them shared in their clenched fists every night.

He'd given the beads to Kerri right before he left for salvage. Mostly to stop her fussing at him for going out and leaving her, again, but also because he was the oldest, and that meant, Papa told him often enough, making sacrifices. For your sister, mijo. A calloused, gnarled hand, but still so strong, gently ruffled his hair. He'd wrapped them around his sister's wrist and said, "Keep them safe for me, si?" She nodded solemnly, awed by the responsibility.

He never saw those beads again.

/

Cassian didn't touch the beads, Jyn noticed.

They jumbled together in the trappings of a cover identity Command had worked out for them, a laborer couple out to make a few credits in an Imperial factory. The quartermaster had given them a hastily assembled bundle of clothing, accessories and other such things and Cassian had looked barely concealed disapproval. "It's got to have continuity," he muttered, going through the mismatched contents of their go bags.

Jyn followed his example, but honestly, she didn't really care. She learned how to make do with almost nothing in the last fifteen years. Being handed an entire bag worth of clothes, shoes and gear felt like the height of luxury. The beads slipped out of the tangle of items, falling amongst the scarves and layers they'd been given. Jyn was surprised--jewelry wasn't common item in the quartermaster's supplies--but Cassian saw them and just--stopped, for a second. As if recalling something.

"Oh," he said, looking at the beads. "Where did--?" he looked around the bunk where their items had been laid out by the two of them. "Did those come with the clothes?"

"They did," Jyn confirmed. "Do you know what they're supposed to be?"

Cassian paused, still looking at the beads, his normally quick hands still. "They're--they're an ancestor strand. Or beads. Each bead means a family member who came before you."

Jyn glanced down at the necklace. There had to be at least thirty beads on the cord. "Did this belong to someone?"

"It must've," Cassian said, his tone oddly blank. "Most--most of the effects are donated, or--if a member of the Rebellion is killed in action...they're asked, beforehand, if they want their personal effects want to be donated to the stores so it can be reused or repurposed, or sent back to their families, if we can manage it. Most choose to donate."

Jyn's hand closed around her kyber crystal unthinkingly. Each bead on the strand meant someone's family. Fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles. Grandparents. "Then...whoever this belonged to..."

"They might not have had family to send it back to," Cassian said. His voice was quiet now, just stating a fact they knew all too well.

The beads lay on the bunk innocuously. Each one had been carefully, precisely carved. Dark brown wood, well-polished from years of use. "Do--do you want them?" Jyn asked uncertainly. She didn't think it would be right for her to use them.

Cassian looked at the beads. His voice grew strange, distant. "My family had a strand of beads like this. Fifty-five on a cord. " He gave himself a slight shake and carefully picked it up, wrapped it multiple times around his wrist. His movements looked like something he had seen done a dozen different times. "It will come in handy if others have them," he told Jyn, steady again. "That way they can recognize us as someone they can trust."

Jyn nodded slowly, seeing the sense of that. They gleamed on Cassian's wrist, an unbroken line. "Who will they be?" she asked. "The beads?"

Cassian glanced down at his wrist. "They'll be my family," he said simply. "Everyone who came before me, and..." he glanced at Jyn, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. "Everyone's who with me now."

That pleased Jyn inordinately, so she ducked her head to hide her own small smile.