adam is a diva

I haven’t posted any of the birds in a while, but here’s Leslie, a little diva who was ADAMANT about not wanting cuddles, but instead chose to creep right up to my ear and yell “HAAAALLLLP!!” in her little five-year-old’s voice when she saw me petting someone else.

Sorry for the crappy video– the lighting sucked and she usually clams up when she knows she’s being recorded.

(Also, she’s blind in one eye, which is why one of them looks weird.)

@incubeebirb @han-pan

Trying This Again because The Last One Broke!!

So Reblog this if you blog:

- Jeff Hardy

- Matt Hardy

- Lita

- CM Punk

- Edge

- Christian

- Roman Reigns

- Seth Rollins

- Dean Ambrose

- Jimmy Uso

- Jey Uso

- Christopher Daniels

- Raven

- Vampiro

- Sting

- Kevin Thorn

- Tajiri

- Rhyno

- TNA related

- WWE related

- ECW related - WCW related - New Japan Related

So yeah guys, heart and Reblog.

Day 18/30 BatB Lines Prompts: “A Diva Needs Their Beauty Rest”

A series of 100-word drabbles on Prince Adam’s morning of his fifth birthday. There are fourteen drabbles in all. Consider them like vignettes in a way.

A boy prince wakes up at five, all of five years old. He counts on his fingers, amazed now he can count his age using all the digits on one hand! He wants to go wake his mama, tell her it’s his birthday today, but he daren’t, for his father would wake up too and be angry. He knows, however, the kitchen would be awake, or at least Cuisiner would be its only soul there, cooking up the day’s breakfast, a few hours away. The boy can’t go back to sleep, excitement singing through his body down to his toes.

The boy tiptoes all the way to the kitchen, tiptoeing down the stairs as softly as possible. He peeps around the room; the kitchen is lit by only a few candles, Cuisinier hard at work with breakfast preparations.

“You’re early, Lumiere,” the cook rumbles, “Unless you’re not him. Mrs Potts? Is that you?”

The cook pauses his work, spins around, and his eyes widen in surprise on seeing Prince Adam.

“Adam! You’re up earlier than the birds!”

“I’m five today.”

Ah.” The cook points at him with a knowing smile. “Too excited to go back to sleep?”

“Much too excited!”

Cuisiner has a sense of good humour—he allows the boy to enter—mind the oven, it’s hot!—allows Adam to plop down at the staff table. He feels the boy’s eyes watching him as he returns his attention back to his work.

“Five! Years! Old!” the cook marvels, emphasising each word with a dramatic thunk of his knife on the chopping board. “Time went fast.”

“Really? It felt like being four took forever! I already feel ten!”

Cuisiner’s laugh echoes. “You want to be ten already, is that it? I swear, you’ll be ten before this year’s through, boy!”

When Lumiere enters, he is amused to see the boy already up. He isn’t surprised—he remembers being a little boy once, too excited on waking up knowing it was his birthday. He’s certain Adam feels just the same. He pulls out a chair at the table, flops back in it, lanky legs stretched out before him.

“All of five today!” he marvels, “Soon you’ll be a man!”

He encourages the boy to go back to bed—he needs his sleep, or he’ll be too tired for the day’s adventures.

“What kind of adventures?”

“Fun adventures! All I can say!”

 He goes back to bed, and he still cannot sleep. Lying on his back, Adam hears the first peeps of the dawn chorus, and, elsewhere in the castle, a fiddle plays—long, soft, lullaby-like notes. He closes his eyes, letting himself drift off to the melodies. It is only when he feels his mother gently shaking his shoulder to wake him, his eyes opening to the sun rising in the east, does he know he had drifted back to sleep again. His mother plants a kiss on his forehead. He reaches his arms up for a snuggle.

“Happy birthday, Adam.” 

Keep reading