breakfast from this morning

Once upon a time there was a beast and a curse and an enchantress, which I’m sure surprises nobody. Better put it this way: once upon a time a girl was locked in a castle, and she begged so hard not to be the sleeping princess that she became the beast. That’s more like it, anyway — fairytale logic. You get what you wish for, but it isn’t what you want.

“Don’t let it be a prince,” she begged, “don’t let it be a kiss I can’t see coming and can’t refuse.”

Enchantresses, wicked fairies, call them what you will — they’re all the same story in the end. No one will remember if this enchantress began the story by giving the princess a naming day gift of a hundred year sleep once the tale switches to another track. The point is that she didn’t mind granting this one favor. Maybe it was an issue of statistics. Maybe she thought finding a girl who would fall in love with a princess-beast would be harder than finding a prince to kiss her, make her curse harder to lift (considering the probabilities of who might wander onto the cursed castle grounds). As if girls who love girls don’t know they have to fight harder to begin with, as if they won’t cross miles for each other.

So maybe there was a spindle once, but now there is a rose, and a girl who wanders through a thorn maze unable to find her way. This is the wrong story, she thinks to herself, clutching her leather satchel tighter, but she doesn’t know what the right story is.

“Let me through?” She suggests to the roses that grow squeezed between their own thorns along the twisting hedges. “I’m looking for the love of my life. I’m in a hurry.”

She’s met only with the rustling of leaves and haughty scoffs. “No prince ever found his true love by being in a hurry.”

“I’m not a prince. I’m a shoemaker, and I’m lost. Can you let me through to the castle?” It rises dark and spindly overhead, but though it seems so close she can see no way out of the maze.

Laughter, echoing through the hedge corridors, and then something dark prowls around the corner and half-crouches there, hidden as much as possible under a hooded cloak. Shining talons dig into the earth under their feet.

The beast says, “A shoemaker? You really are in the wrong story.” Her voice is gravely and doesn’t match the laughter. That must have been the roses as well.

“I have glass shoes,” the girl says, staring at those claws. “Or I can make something sturdier, if you give me time.”

“I don’t have enough time of my own to be giving it away,” the beast says, bored, and gestures around them. Even now the hedges seem to be encroaching further into the maze’s corridors, the roses growing and multiplying. One day soon, the girl realizes, the maze will entirely fill in, and the castle will be blocked off.

She’s clever, and she’s brave, and those are the two most important things for a fairytale heroine to be — besides pretty, but that’s easy enough to fake with the right kind of smile. “Then don’t give it to me,” she says, “we can share.”

So the beast reaches out one arm, fingers tapering into knives that she curls so gently they don’t more than scratch the girl’s skin — and the shoemaker takes it with an earnest gravity, looking right under her cloak’s shadow and into her eyes.

The beast’s eyes are unnaturally big and inhumanly shaped, but they’re not cruel, and in fairytales the evil beasts always have cruel eyes. The girl bobs a polite curtsey, using the beast’s arm for balance, and sees those eyes narrow slightly with amusement.

They walk through the twists and turns of the maze to the castle, the beast bent slightly so as not to tower over her guest. “About those shoes,” she says, when they reach the front doors, golden light spilling from the entrance hall and shining through the delicately carved details in the ancient wood.

“In the morning,” the girl says, and because she clearly has not even entertained the thought that she might be argued with, the beast cannot summon an objection. She watches the girl follow an unfurling carpet along the floor to a dusty guest room with no hesitation, as if every dwelling should be as accommodating.

And in the way of fairytales, that’s enough to make the beast fall in love — a disregard for every unspoken rule, a smile that glimmers in the darkness. Should I tell you that the moment the girl arrives at breakfast the next morning the beast can barely look away from her for a moment, that she stays by the girl’s side as she produces leather and tools from nowhere and searches floor by floor for the perfect room to work in — or should I let you imagine for yourself?

Gradually the hood is pulled back, eventually the cloak discarded altogether; they sit in patches of sunlight together to eat lunch, staring down at the maze below. Roses and leaves devouring each other and everything in slow motion.

“If you stay too long you’ll be trapped here,” the beast warns, anxious when the girls shows no concern in her usual solemn air as she watches the maze devolve.

“I haven’t finished your shoes,” is all she says. Each new morning she promises that in return for this latest night of hospitality she is making the shoes more beautiful, and each evening that she has not finished she stays another night.

Sometimes when the girl has gone to bed the beast sneaks back into the workroom, in agony over whether to rip out the stitches or finish the work for her.

Leave before you are trapped here forever.

Stay here forever because I love you.

Each night she does not touch the shoes and returns to sleep herself, and in the morning the girl thanks her for letting her stay, as if the beast could ever turn her out, and promises to repay the night with even more beautiful shoes.

And each morning the beast says, “That’s fair,” and wishes she could find different words, the words she means to say.

The maze grows. The roses are larger than hands with fully spread fingers. The corridors are barely large enough for a small girl to squeeze through. In the dawn light it is lit gently and slightly pink, but the sight of it is painful. The wide window of the workroom shows the progress the maze had made alarmingly clearly, and it’s only then that the beast wonders if that was the appeal of this room over all the others.

The girl appears silently in the doorway as she has for the past week. “Thank you for letting me stay last night. I’ll repay you—”

“No,” the beast says, her voice alarmed and rough. “No. You are leaving now.”

“Now?”

“Before you can’t leave. You must go now.” Her throat is closing up and her voice growing thicker with each word. They’re not the words she wants to say.

The girl cocks her head, a curiously nonjudgmental silence. Finally she crosses the room to her worktable and picks up the shoes, turning them around and around again. They’re boots, really, and almost comically big in her hands. The beast cannot tell if they are as beautiful as she was promised, because the girl is smiling now and that eclipses all else.

“Are they finished?” She asks.

“Yes,” the beast says, unable to choke out anything more.

The girl leaves the boots on the table and swings her satchel, out of nowhere, across her shoulders. “Thank you for sharing your time,” she says. For a moment she holds the beast’s hand in both of hers, and then she’s gone. From the window the beast can watch her leave; for all her trouble getting there, she finds her way out with ease.

She leaves the workroom and doesn’t return all day.

Do beasts grieve? She hadn’t thought they could. She hadn’t grieved when the curse was settled on her; she hadn’t grieved at the idea that it might never lift once the maze finally knit itself together during the coming night. But the loneliness she feels now was different. The absence of the shoemaker is something worse. She’d had no choice in her fate, but she had told the girl to leave. This misery she’d brought on herself.

At night she wanders back into the workroom out of habit, sleepless and hopeless and refusing to glance out the window. Has it happened yet? Is she truly trapped now, or will it happen in five minutes, an hour, at dawn? She stares at the boots for an indeterminable amount of time before she thinks of putting them on.

She does so only because she thinks the girl wanted her to wear them; left to her own devices she might have destroyed them with as little thought as she now gives to slipping them on. They are big enough, and the fasteners are easy to close even with her unwieldy claws. Designs etched into the leather yet invisible in the darkness spiral and branch out beneath the thumb-pad she runs over them. Vines, she thinks. Roses.

A tear slips out, or three, as she stands in her beautiful new boots and smells leather and rotting roses. I want her back, she thinks, even as a wave of thankfulness rises up from the deepness in her, thankfulness that the shoemaker will never feel this trapped. I want to go to her, she revises. Since she doesn’t know how, she goes to leave the workroom instead.

One step and darkness is rushing past her. The rough scrap of stone walls, the rustle of leaves and the tearing of thorns, night air soft all around her. She has stepped not into the hallway but out of the castle, beyond the maze, into the star-dappled night.

“What did you do?” She asks, alarmed, almost before she sees the shoemaker sitting cross-legged on the grassy hill, as still as if she has been waiting all day and night. “What happened?”

“I found what I came for,” the girl says calmly. “And I made her shoes.”

Breakfast from this morning! Oats topped with @purely_elizabeth granola, blackberries, blueberries, flaxseed, @woodstockfoods cashew butter, and @califiafarms almond milk 👌

Instagram - goodhealthgoodvibes

anonymous asked:

Now I want all the bros weird sleeping habits lol!!

Ask and ye shall receive

Sleeping arrangements: Gladio, Noctis, Prompto, Ignis

Ignis

    • Has very vivid dreams and usually remembers them perfectly
      • Doesn’t really talk about them though
    • Sleeptalks every night without fail
      • Sometimes it’s random nonsense
      • Sometimes he manages to string together complete thoughts
        • Secretly fears what he’ll reveal about himself while he’s asleep
          • (I mentioned in my last post that he says, “I hate carrots” in his sleep once)
            • (It’s true)
              • (IGNIS DOESN’T LIKE CARROTS)
                • (Eats them anyway)
        • Talks about knives in his sleep often enough that it’s a little… concerning
    • Once dreamed a man was standing in the corner of the tent, watching the boys sleep
      • Wakes up without realizing he’s not in the dream anymore
        • SUMMONS A DAGGER AND THROWS IT INTO THE CORNER OF THE TENT
          • Cue lots of confused and terrified screaming
            • Ignis sleeps in a sleeping bag zipped all the way up after that, with his arms tucked inside. It’s harder for him to sit up or use his arms, so he usually comes to his senses as he wriggles around
    • Usually wakes up with Gladio; he gets breakfast ready while Gladio does some morning exercises
      • Always has water, a towel, and a smoothie with protein powder ready for Gladio when he gets back

Gladio

    • Doesn’t always snore
      • But when he does
        • HE SNORES SO LOUDLY
          • It keeps Prompto awake
            • He will always try to discreetly wake Gladio up while making it look like an accident
              • Texting Noct’s phone so it makes a loud noise
              • …Throwing things at Gladio’s face and then pretending to still be asleep…
                • Sometimes Gladio thinks it’s Noct doing it and he pays the Ultimate Price
    • Can function with very little sleep; late nights affect him the least 
    • Sharing a bed with him kind of sucks because he is so big and he sleeps with his stupid-giant limbs spread out everywhere like a musclebound starfish
    • Always offers to grab breakfast ingredients from the store for Ignis during his morning runs, if they’re sleeping in a hotel

Prompto

  • Usually the last person to fall asleep
    • Scrolls on his phone while the other boys are sleeping
  • Sleeps on his side, always
  • Has the weirdest dreams
    • Some of them involve friends and acquaintances and they’re so weird that he gets uncomfortable around them for a while
      • Once he dreamed that King Regis challenged him to a race around the track at school
        • Which wouldn’t have been so weird if Regis hadn’t been barefoot and dressed in a banana costume
          • Dream Regis: “You cannot defeat me, dear boy. Not when I have the power of Dad Jokes”
            • Regis does win the race. He spews Dad Joke after Dad Joke as he runs
              • Prompto is so upset in the dream that he lost that he wakes up literally crying
  • Suffers from occasional night terrors
    • Sits bolt upright in bed with a loud gasp, has to pant to catch his breath
    • Ignis always wakes up during these episodes and helps calm Prompto down
      • On the really bad nights he slips out and makes Prompto some chamomile tea
        • (He’ll also make chamomile tea when Prompto’s stomach is upset)
  • It doesn’t matter if this kid sleeps for nine hours or for two– he will always be SO TIRED WHEN HE WAKES UP
    • He has perpetual bags under his eyes
  • Is somehow both a morning and a night person though?????
    • It pisses Noctis off!!!!!!

Noctis

  • Sleeps in whatever position he starts in and will not move once the entire night
    • He is so still and quiet when he sleeps
      • Sometimes it looks like he’s dead
        • Prompto has legitimately woken up and thought Noctis died in his sleep because he doesn’t look like he’s even breathing
    • The deepest sleeper who has EVER LIVED
      • Seriously it’s like he’s dead or in a coma some mornings…
        • On these days, Gladio just scoops him up and dumps him in his chair by the fire. That’s usually enough to wake him up. He just sits there, head nodding up and down as he drifts in and out of sleep, until Ignis hands him his breakfast
    • Never remembers his dreams
      • Except for one
        • It involves Ignis
          • Noctis: “Hey, Ignis, can you–”
          • Ignis: “That is not my name”
          • Noctis: “That’s… what?”
          • Ignis: “The ‘S’ denotes a plural. I am but one man. I am not Ignis. I am a single Igni.”
          • Noctis:
          • Igni: “It is elementary stuff, Nocti.”
          • Nocti: 

Harry laughed happily as he landed on the grass. Draco was only seconds behind him clutching the snitch with a massive grin on his face.
“Good one, Draco.”
“Oh, it wasn’t really a good one. Pretty easy actually.” Draco drawled with a smirk.
Harry laughed again as he shoved Draco’s shoulder. “Whatever, that dive was pretty amazing.” Draco’s smirk became a proud smile. “Come on, let’s go eat something. I’m starving!” Harry said.
The smile morphed into a frown. “No. We each won one, it’s a draw. We have to play another.”
Harry grinned at him. “Let’s leave it a draw.”
Draco arched a brow. “Scared Potter?”
Laughing, Harry slung an arm around his friends shoulders. “Yes, scared you’ll pout and ignore me all day when I beat you.”
Draco sniffed. “First of all, I am not so petty. And who says you’d win anyway? So arrogant, Harry.”
Harry laughed and squeezed his friend in a hug. “Yeah. I’m the arrogant here, Draco.”
Draco gently bumped the side of his head against Harry’s as they walked to the castle. “So long as you know.”

On the following Sunday they found themselves trudging through a mountain of homework, much to Harry’s displeasure. Ron and Hermione had gone for a picnic on the grounds, since Hermione always made sure they were up to date on their work. Sighing Harry dropped his head heavily against the couch. Draco, who was curled up in the corner of the couch next to him, looked up with an arched brow. “Giving up already?”
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes.” He jerked up when he felt Draco flick him between the eyes. “Hey!” He protested, rubbing the sore spot with his fingers.
“You’d better keep going. Don’t think that you can leave it and get me to help you just because Granger won’t let you fly until it’s done.” He went back to looking at his book.
Harry turned to him with wide eyes. “That is a fantastic idea.” When Draco just let out a soft laugh but otherwise ignored him, Harry moved so he could lie leaning comfortably against Draco’s side. He closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh.
“Potter!” Draco groaned. “I am absolutely not doing your work for you.” But he didn’t move or shove Harry off, which Harry knew he wouldn’t. After several blissful minutes, right when Harry was sure he was on the cusp of a wonderful dream, he fell to the floor as Draco stood up. He pointed a finger accusingly at Harry, “Do some work, Harry. Or we will go to the library.”
Sighing in defeat, Harry sat up and faced his books once more.

Hours later they were sitting in front of the crackling fire eating Bertie Botts beans. Draco was sprawled across a single seat with his legs hanging across the side while Harry sat on the floor with his legs crossed and back against Draco’s seat. Draco had the box of beans and alternated between taking one and lowering the box for Harry.
Ron and Hermione entered the common room with cheerful greetings. Harry appreciated everyone’s efforts to get along, since he knew it was only for his sake, but he did wish his three best friends were more than just polite to one another.
“Did you have a good picnic?” Draco asked them.
“Oh, yes it was lovely thanks.” Hermione smiled at him. Ron nodded a bit awkwardly at him.
“Oh, Harry. You’ll never guess what.” Ron started, and Hermione shot him a suspicious look. “We saw Terry there, he was in the middle of a big fight, seems like him and his boyfriend broke up.” Hermione’s look of suspicion became one of horror as she tugged on Ron’s hand. Harry’s stomach dropped as he willed Ron not to continue. But he did. “So he’s single now, and you can finally ask him out. I know you used to have a massive crush on him.”
Harry closed his eyes, but the thick silence wouldn’t be ignored. He was so glad he couldn’t see Draco’s expression at that moment. There had been a hundred moments when he meant to come out to Draco. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed or anything. It was just that he really enjoyed their friendship. He didn’t know how they’d become so
comfortable touching each other all the time, but he was scared that it would change if Draco knew. He opened his eyes to find Ron looking from him to Hermione with confusion brewing in his eyes. Hermione was watching Draco carefully, which could only mean that he most definitely wasn’t looking at them.
Harry sighed internally. He cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks.”
Hermione looked at him pitifully and quickly started talking about their day, filling the silence as best she could. She asked about how their studies went, Harry responded and Draco said a word or two.
After suffering through it as long as he could, Harry wished everyone good night. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Draco as he left, but let his hand trail along his shoulder as he walked passed.

The next morning, Harry lingered in bed. If he could, he’d avoid seeing Draco all day. Unfortunately, his last class was potions where they were partners. At breakfast he managed to get away with only a smile and a wave since Draco sat at the Slytherin table still. Harry tried hard to focus on his lessons all day, but he couldn’t deny he was nervous to see him.
When he arrived in potions at the end of the day, Draco was already there with all the ingredients for the days potion. He was chopping furiously when Harry reached him. “Hi, Draco.” He said nervously, fidgeting with the strap on his bag.
“Hi, Potter.” Draco glanced up with a small smile. After a few seconds he rolled his eyes. “Are you going to help or do you expect me to do all the work?”
Harry could have laughed with relief, but he didn’t. He gave Draco a grateful smile which was returned with a small quirk of the lips and they got to work.
The rest of the lesson passed in the same manner as the ones before. After, they walked together to dinner and Harry felt relieved. Until he couldn’t find Draco anywhere after dinner. He went to bed with a sinking feeling.

The week passed in the same pattern. The only time that Harry really saw Draco was during potions, his behavior seemingly unchanged. But Harry missed him. After potions on Friday Harry had had enough. As they walked together to dinner he blurted out. “Where have you been all week?” Grey eyes glanced up from the floor to meet his before flickering away. “I can never find you after dinner.” He said accusingly.
Draco answered softly. “I’ve had detention every day.”
“What?” Harry asked, reaching out to grab Draco’s arm. “For what?”
Turning to face Harry, Draco sighed. “You know how it is, some teachers will make up reasons to punish me.”
Harry frowned and opened his mouth to express his outrage when Draco gave him a defeated smile. “It doesn’t matter. Okay?”
Harry deflated. Draco twitched his arm awkwardly and Harry realized he was still holding him. He let go quickly but noticed the blush on Draco’s cheeks.
He deflated a little more.

On Saturday morning when Harry returned from breakfast he found Draco in the common room with his homework. After fetching his own, he sank down on the couch next to him.
Draco shifted to make more room for him.
After working for a little while Draco got up to get a different textbook and settled down again on the single couch. Harry frowned. He wouldn’t have thought anything about it before, but..
He sighed heavily and tried to focus on his work.

The next day he found himself working alone in the library. When he returned to the common room he found Draco curled up on the single couch with a book. He looked up when Harry entered and frowned slightly. “Where were you today?” He asked.
Harry shrugged, struggling to meet his eyes. “Thought I’d concentrate better in the library.” He moved to walk past where Draco was sitting, when Draco’s hand shot out as if to grab his hand but stopped suddenly, quivered in the air for a moment before disappearing just as fast.
Harry hesitated briefly. With a disappointed sigh he carried on walking.
“Harry.” Draco said.
Harry half turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. Draco cleared his throat. “Would you like to go fly for a bit?” Harry frowned skeptically, unsure of what how he wanted to respond. “There’s enough time for at least one game to end our draw before the light goes.” Draco said, smiling uncertainly. And that’s what got to Harry.
“Yeah, alright.” He answered finally.

The walk to the quidditch pitch was filled with awkward silence. At least it was for Harry. Once they were flying though, Harry felt better.
The light started to go quickly and Harry was scanning rather desperately for the snitch, it was the one he had caught in first year and he was rather sentimental about it. A glint of gold caught his eye and he dove toward it. As he neared it he saw Draco coming in from a different angle, slightly ahead of him. He pushed forward, urging his broom to go faster. At the last moment, he realized Draco would get there first and Harry would barrel into him soon after. Unfortunately, the last moment didn’t give him enough time to stop or change direction. All he could do was slow down to soften the impact.
Thankfully they were low to the ground so when they tumbled over one another and onto the grass, it wasn’t too hard a fall. They rolled and Harry landed half on Draco’s chest with a massive groan. Draco was gasping heavily. Harry lifted himself to quickly pat Draco down for injuries and once he was satisfied that he was fine he fell half onto Draco’s chest again. They caught their breath in silence.
It was the happiest Harry had been all week. Until Draco said, “Two one, Potter.” Harry looked up to see Draco clutching the snitch with a triumphant grin. He laughed and pushed himself up onto an elbow.
“You can’t tell me this one was an easy win.” Harry teased.
“No, I can’t.” Draco chuckled and smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back, happy to have his friend back. He noticed the pink tinge on Draco’s cheeks as Draco’s eyes flickered away and he shifted awkwardly. Harry sat up quickly and Draco scooted away from Harry. His heart sank.
Draco cleared his throat, “Well, let’s go back.” He stood up and retrieved his broom. Harry sat there with his knees bent and his elbows resting on his knees, drowning in unhappiness. He wasn’t going to get his easy friendship back. Draco had walked a few paces back toward the castle when he turned around. “Harry?” He said tentatively.
Harry sighed. “I can’t do this, Draco.” He shoved his hands in his hair and looked away, frustrated.
Draco frowned and came back. “What do you mean?” He asked softly.
“I mean I want you to just freak out about the fact that I didn’t tell you and be honest if you have a problem with who I am. I can’t take this dancing around it. I miss you.” He bit his lip to stop himself. After a long pause he looked up to find Draco staring at him in shock.
“You think I have a problem with who you are?” He asked quietly, which set warning bells off in Harry’s head. “You think I’ve been acting strange because I don’t accept this part of you.” He added. Then he laughed, a self deprecating sound that Harry knew well. Draco lifted a hand to his forehead. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s the obvious conclusion.” He laughed again, a little hysterically this time, which broke Harry out of his daze. He stood up and slowly approached him.
“Well, if it’s not that then what is it?” He asked.
Draco closed his eyes briefly before meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry watched a flush creep up his neck as he seemed to search for words. “Well, I couldn’t exactly be mad at you for not telling me when I’ve been keeping the exact same secret.” His cheeks were a deep pink now. Harry’s ears were ringing.
“What?” He whispered, disbelieving.
Draco gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” Harry could only stare at him. Draco swallowed nervously. “Anyway, I was trying to find the right time to tell you about me. But, as you know, it’s not easy.” He laughed awkwardly again. “And somehow knowing about you made my little crush seem less impossible which is stupid, really I know, so I was just giving myself a bit of space to dispel that illusion. That’s why I got detention everyday. I couldn’t focus, I was useless in class.” His gaze was flickering from Harry’s shoulder, his collar to his throat. Anywhere but his eyes. After a fortifying breath Draco added. “Our friendship is important to me. I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Harry was confused. He was shocked. But he knew that that made him happy. He pulled Draco towards him and wrapped him in a tight hug. “I missed you, you idiot.”
Draco melted into the hug which made Harry’s heart soar. They stood like that for a long time. Eventually Draco pulled back, much to Harry’s regret. Harry searched his gaze. “It’s not impossible, you know. Or an illusion.” He whispered.
Draco’s breath caught. Harry smiled at him. “I don’t think.” Harry amended. But as he watched the moonlight play over Draco’s features he thought it was probably extremely possible. Probable in fact.
Draco watched Harry watch him for the longest time. His look of shock slowly abated until Harry was staring at Draco’s trademark smirk. “You’d better not think that counts as asking me out, because my standards are considerably higher than that.” Harry laughed and Draco smiled before adding, “I’m serious.” With that he turned and started toward the castle. Harry scrambled to catch up.
“I’ll write a poem.” He said.
Draco groaned. “Please don’t. I’m pretty set on saying yes. Don’t make that hard for me to do.”
Harry grinned. Feeling bold, he reached out to grab Draco’s hand as they walked forward. He let out a content sigh when Draco laced their fingers together.

6

Can I show you something? Morty, no offense, but a drawing of me you made when you were 8 isn’t gonna make make me feel like less of an accident. That, out there? That’s my grave. Wait, what? On one of our adventures, Rick and I basically destroyed the whole world. So we bailed on that reality, and we came to this one. Because in this one, the world wasn’t destroyed. And in this one, we were dead. So we came here, a-a-and we buried ourselves, and we took their place. And every morning, Summer, I eat breakfast, 20 yards away from my own rotting corpse.

Crowd silencing quotes from cartoons
  • Avatar the Last Airbender: "You might have everyone else here buying your ... transformation, but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends right then and there. Permanently."
  • Over the Garden Wall: "At least wait until the storm dies down a bit. You'll be no good to your brother dead." "I was never any good to him alive, either."
  • Gravity Falls: "You really aren't gonna thank me, are you? Fine. On one condition: you stay away from the kids; I don't want them in danger. 'Cause as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left."
  • Adventure Time: "... if I do things... if I do things that hurt anyone, please, please forgive me! Just... watch over me until I can find my way out of this labyrinth in my brain and regain my sanity! And then maybe Betty, my princess... maybe you will love me again... please love me again, Betty!!"
  • Steven Universe: "What do you know about my Mom?! I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO KNOW MY MOM! But I do know, she saw beauty in everything! Even in stuff like this, and even in jerks like you!"
  • Legend of Korra: "Don't pretend you know what it felt like! The Avatar is adored by millions! I was cast aside by my own parents like I meant nothing to them. How could I just stand by and watch the same thing happen to my nation, when it needed someone to guide it?"
  • Lilo and Stitch: "But if you want to leave, you can. I'll remember you, though. I remember everyone that leaves."
  • Rick and Morty: "That - out there - that's my grave. On one of our adventures, Rick and I basically destroyed the whole world. So we bailed on that reality and we came to this one, because in this one, the world wasn't destroyed, and in this one, we were dead. So we came here and we buried ourselves and we took their place. And every morning, Summer, I eat breakfast twenty yards away from my own rotting corpse. I'm a version of your brother you can trust when he says 'don't run'. Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody's gonna die. Come watch T.V.?"
  • Courage the Cowardly Dog: "There's no such thing as 'perfect'. You're beautiful as you are, Courage. With all your imperfections, you can do anything."
On Powerful Wings

So… I’ve wanted to write a Wings AU since i’ve been seeing all these beautiful drawings of the sides with wings (i’m looking at you @randomslasher and @artistwave!! Everyone else also go look at them. I am. They are sooo talented oh my gosh.) I was stuck on what to write about for a long long time until it hit me to try and write wings that weren’t bird wings. So… this is what came of that. Also, everyone thank @didsomeonesayprince if you like this nonsense.

Another Polysanders. Apparently it’s my thing now.

Wing AU!!!!!

Logan groaned as he sat up in his bed. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to today. One of his boyfriends was dragging the rest of them to a party. They had all been dating for a long while now, but they only had been living together for a short time. He was in his own room, they agreed it would be nice for each of them to have their own space, even if a good portion of the time they tended to fall asleep in each other’s beds anyway. As he swung his legs over the edge he began to stretch. His wings unfolded out from behind him as he let them get some air. One of the problems with wings was definitely waking up in the morning and finding you had slept on one of them weird.

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Should I Bang the Daedric Prince?

Originally posted by redmoor

A Guide to Fucking Your Way Around Tamriel and Beyond 

Azura – Okay, let’s get started. All the depictions of Azura are of a big tall powerful and scantily clad woman. She’s also credited with creating the Khajiit, aka, the best people in Tamriel, so points for that, thanks for making me realize how much I love cats, Azzie. But is she fuckable, that’s what we want to know, right? According to the official lore, she’s one of the few to be considered ‘good.’ Which is fine, I’m sure she’d like a good long cuddle afterward, but frankly I’d rather just sit down and have a nice cup of Daedra Wine and cackle with her over gossip. 4/10.

Boethiah – Okay, fuck Boethiah, the first thing they ask of me is to find an innocent person and kill them. I’m gross, not evil. That being said, she loves competition and battle and is depicted carrying a big old ax, which, yes. Go ahead and ax me a question, babe. Go ahead and stroke back my hair, go ahead and stick your tongue directly into my brain. I’ll do whatever you want. Plus, have you seen those thighs? 9/10, would absolutely stick my face in them.

Clavicus Vile – Okay, let’s say you find yourself in Tamriel looking for a good time. There you are, wandering the snowy mountains when a dog with a Jersey accent starts bitching at you. But he leads you to Clavicus Vile. And Vile…has horns. And can shapeshift.

Sorry, I had to take a moment there, I was lost in the idea of fucking a shapeshifting God Demon with horns to hold onto. Vile is gonna be the best time you’ll ever have. He’ll fuck you until you can’t walk anymore. And then the next day, he’ll find something fantastic for you to stick in his butthole. I can’t wait to descend into Tamriel and go on a date with MotherFuckin’ Clavicus Vile. Give me the Clap, Clavvy. 10/10

Hermaeus Mora – If we are judging by appearances alone, sure, I’d go for it. You guys already know how much I like a good tentacle. But old Mora has more than a few drawbacks. For one, his eye looks like a loose and floppy anus. For two, every time he talks, all I can think about is diarrhea. Hermaeus Mora has a Diarrhea Voice and he talks too damn slow and he’s so full of himself. He’s the kind of god who talks up how good he’s gonna fuck you and then when it comes right down to it he comes after two seconds and then fucks off to go watch Daedra TV. He’s the kind of guy who gets jelly in your bed and blames his farts on the dog. 1/10

HircineHunt me daddy. The father of Manbeasts, he’s called. With a name like that, he’s gonna split you in two. He’s gonna chase you down through the woods, but in like, a fun sexy way. Father of Manbeasts is great but I bet he’s also the Master of the Orgy. You want a good time and Vile isn’t around? Call up old Hercine and he’ll hook you up with a delicious night you’ll never forget. Maybe if you ask nicely he’ll wear the loincloth. Did I mention he has antlers? That’s pretty damn close to horns, right? 9/10

Jyggalag – what the fuck kind of name… “He represents logical order and deduction, and is said to 'never have had an original idea in his life.'” So, the picture of this particular prince is pretty hot. Full body armor, shining in the weird sunlight, he’s got a big weapon, lookin’ good. But that description leads me to a different conclusion. See, not that every night in the sack has to be creative and new and exciting, you are never gonna get anything but the old in and out with this motherfucker. He likes order. So nothing new, nothing…fun. No glory holes for Jyggalag. Maybe he just hates hearing his name called out in the throes of passion. I know I would if that were my name. “Oh, Jyggalag, you’re so predictable” doesn’t really roll of the tongue when it comes to pillow talk. 3/10 (points given for appearance.)

Malacath – Mmmmmm Hmmmmm… Malacath. The Granddaddy of the Orcs. Have you seen the statues? Dude is ripped, and wearing drapes of fabric, and showing off his truly excellent thighs! Dude would give you a great fucking time. Dude would see that you’ve never really experienced real passion and he’d show you the meaning of. He’d cook you breakfast the next morning. He’d massage your shoulders, sore from killing the shit out of giants. This guy would draw you a bath and keep it hot while he fucked you. And I bet, I will fucking guarantee, that this guy is kinky as shit. Malacath is a switch. And since he’s a Daedric Prince, you’ve got yourself the Subbiest Sub, the Toppiest Top. Go forth and have an excellent time with Malacath. 9/10

Mehrunes Dagon – Deadly but fucking worth it. Dagon has four arms, my friends. Four. And abs for days. I bet Dagon likes it rough, I bet Dagon has a kink dot com subscription and thinks that’s the epitome of well represented kink. Dagon is a fuckboy. Dagon will give it to you good, for a while. Then it’ll all turn boring because his idea of dirty talk is to just whisper obscure nicknames for your genitals while sticking his fingers in your mouth. 6/10, for the good body.

Mephala – When you meet Mephala, she’s just a voice. Not a bad voice, but not the best I’ve ever heard. But sweet Mephala has a fascination of messing with people for her own amusement. And she likes spiders. Let’s work this out here, on paper. Mephala likes spiders, and messing with people. Most of the Princes appear to be able to shapeshift, so let’s say Mephala can give herself extra limbs. More limbs for hugging. And I bet she can spin spider silk too, and maybe she can sink her teeth into my neck. Also her statue features extra arms and also a really….long tongue. Yes, Maphala. Weave this pussy. 8/10 because I don’t know if she can actually give herself extra legs like I want.

Meridia – This bitch is high maintenance and I love it. She’s gonna be a great domme. Kind and caring and also knows exactly how far to push you. She’s gonna order you on your knees and you’ll love it. But there’s a catch, because there’s always a fucking catch with these guys. After you’re done? She’ll give you a sword and make you walk across the world, telling everyone how great she is in bed. As a prophet of Merida, your dying words will be “best head of my life, totally worth it.” Seeing as how she’s rather conventional looking, (no scales, no horns) I’m lowering her rating to 7/10

Molag Bal – “The Prince of domination and spiritual enslavement” Maker’s Fuck, are all the Daedric princes kinky? I guess the answer is yes. But, my word, have you seen his feet? I’m not even a foot guy, I’m just looking at these Clydesdale like motherfucking hooves and getting a little dizzy. I’d let him step on me. I bet he would step on me too. Reading his description gives me a bit of a tumblr DaddyDom vibe. Molag Bal takes pictures of himself hitting a bed with a belt. Molag Bal’s blog is nothing but slow motion blowjob GIFs of pretty girls and giant dicks. You can look, but maybe it’s best if you fuck the hairy Nord at the end of the bar instead. At least they’ll wrap you in furs afterwards. 3/10

Namira – No. Slugs? No. I have my fucking limits and slugs and filth are pretty high up there. Namira is into scat. Pass. 0/10

Nocturnal – This goes against my usual grain, but have you guys even seen Nocturnal? She is a babe. She’s a total babe. She likes the lights off which is right up my alley. Let’s do it in the dark, Nocturnal. Let’s have clandestine meetings. I’ll wear that thing you like. You can whisper naughty things into my ear and we’ll read poetry to each other and eat fruit and just be so gay forever. 9/10 (No carapace, dammit)

Peryite – This guy is like, STDs 4 Less, an all you can eat buffet of every sickness known to Tamriel. His followers vomit on you. This guy has a puking kink and I want nothing to do with that. Plus you have to wander all over the place to find a pretty jewel to turn into incense just to talk? High maintenance and disease riddled, an emetophiliac, no thank you, good sir. I shall get my jollies elsewhere, preferably with someone who won’t cover me in sick. 1/10

Sanguine – This guy is just asking for a high rating. Sanguine wants to be the party guy. He wants to get wasted and go club hopping, he wants to show up early and leave late. He’s got that want, that need and so you’re gonna have a good time. Plus his natural form is a Dremora, easily the most fuckable creature in Tamriel. Got that thick, ebony armor, got those horns and ridges, got that grinding watery voice. And his staff has a rose on it, which is pretty. He likes pretty things. He likes giving and giving. He’s fuckable, but you could honestly make a life out of it. Just you and Sanguine, lounging at a party, feeding each other Daedra grapes and Daedra cheese and laughing and uncaring about anything around you. Fuck Sanguine, but marry him after. 10/10

Sheogorath – For people with a clown fetish. 1/10 for this author, 10/10 if you have a thing for giggling jerks in jester hats, in which case, why not go for Cicero? At least he’ll take you to meet his mother.  

Vaermina – There’s a saying in Ancient Tamriel: “Vaermina’s a little bitch.” She lives in a swamp, gives people nightmares, dresses in rags. She’s basically Shrek, and nobody wants to fuck Shrek. (Please do not send me messages telling me otherwise) The best she can offer is a temporary evil clone of  a random person. Why? What good does that do? Vaermina is the kind of person who criticizes her lovers harshly in bed, yelling that they’re not doing a good enough job, but not in a kinky way, more in that overbearing manager way who doesn’t like how you wash your coffee cup. Do not bang Vaermina, no mortal self esteem can take it. 0/10

Noticed

So this is something I’ve been working on over the weekend. It’s dirty so if you don’t like spanking and dirty talk, this isn’t for you.

WARNING: Mature content

You were being ignored and you were also extremely horny and needy which didn’t go good together. Harry was in the home office doing god knows what and you had barely seen him all day apart from the quick breakfast together this morning and then he had locked himself in those four walls. You had agreed with yourself to give him time to do what he needed and then you would interrupt after a couple hours. You had given him plenty of extra time to deal with business and now you were just growing increasingly impatient by the second. You had checked your emails, read a book, cooked- everything you could think of but nothing could take your mind off the throbbing discomfort between your legs.

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EXO in Hogwarts

Xiumin:  Ravenclaw, but someone’s mistaken him for Slytherin at least once. Everyone goes to him for help, and he’d give you a long sigh if you asked him to check over your hw….but ofc he’ll do it. You’d think he was kinda intimidating since he barely talks, but you’ve seen him chatting with that loud Slytherin, so he’s pretty friendly once you get to know him. Rolls his eyes every time someone gets the riddles wrong, and tbh everyone is salty bc they keep getting harder and harder each week.

Suho: Gryffindor, and a model student at that. He’s probably the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen, some first years have actually passed out bc of his smile. Hella friendly towards the new kids, and he’ll guide them to their classrooms without complaining. Every teacher loves him, so ofc he’d be chosen as a prefect during sixth year. Has many acquaintances but a close knit group of friends that he’s always seen with.

Lay:  Hufflepuff with a heart of gold. You’ll find him in halls before class teaching simple and cool spells to first years, and some of them actually come to him when they’re crying and feel homesick. Sneaks into the kitchen like every Friday night to get some midnight snacks, and everyone knows….they just never say anything bc they love him lmao.

Baekhyun:  Gryffindor, and he wants everyone to know it too. If you thought the Weasley twins were bad…you better take a seat. He’s gotten detention so many times that’s he’s been near expulsion every year. Somehow he still manages to have top marks in every class, but you swore you’ve never see him studying. Hits on everyone during breakfast, and he’s got wild stories from his summer to tell every single morning.

Chen:  Slytherin who’s friends with every single House. He’s hella loud and if you hear a cackle down the hall, it’s probably him. He’s esp fond of that quiet Ravenclaw who’s always stuffing his nose in some book, and after like 6 years of knowing him, he’s almost close to tears when he calls him “best friend.” Doesn’t have the highest grades out of his classmates, but tbh he’s not too worried about grades and such.

Chanyeol:  Hufflepuff who’s always hanging around some mischievous Gryffindor kids. He’s formed some sort of band with his buddies, and he’s been begging the headmaster for a chance to perform at the end of the year. Has a new hairstyle every week and yes, he lives off the attention. Is always getting himself into trouble but no one really tells him off, his ears would turn red and he’d cry until they take it back.

D.O:  Ravenclaw who’s misunderstood by the whole school. People avoid him bc they think he’s scary but tbh he’s such a loveable goofball when he opens up. You’ll always see him writing something in a notebook, and it’s not really known if it’s a diary or his homework planner. He’s usually eyeing that one friendly kid in Hufflepuff, but denies it when you call him out. Has a collection of chocolate frog cards, esp Dumbledore’s.

Kai:  Hufflepuff quidditch team captain, and he’s never lost a game. He knows everyone fancies him but he doesn’t have time for that tbh. Stresses out HELLA during exam time, so he decides to ask a Ravenclaw for help one time…and it’s the best decision he’s ever made. Spends too much time on his hair every morning but it’s worth it, seeing everyone staring at him as he enters the great hall.

Sehun:  Slytherin with a family full of Gryffindors. He doesn’t know why he was sorted into a different House from his family, but you better not ask bc he’ll roll his eyes and strut away. He’s actually super funny and doesn’t care about House pride or blood relations. He didn’t have too many friends during his first couple years so he talked to the ghosts and made friends with Peeves, and they’re still pulling pranks together…so beware. 

Originally posted by royalyeol

3

April second twenty seventeen
Breakfast outside ft my neighbors’ cat. Please let April continue like this ☀️

I bring to you: Steve/Tony betime/sleepy headcanons that nobody asked for :D

  • Tony is really clingy when he sleeps, he latches onto Steve like a limpet and doesn’t let go until Steve wakes up in the morning. And if he can’t physically hold on to Steve, some part of him is always touching Steve
  • Steve has this weird military training protective thing where he has to sleep on the side closest to the door so he can stop any “intruders” from harming them in their sleep. Tony rolls his eyes but plays along anyway
  • Tony is a super heavy sleeper, once he is asleep he is gone at least for the first couple of hours. Not even the Hulk could wake him. But he’ll only fall asleep in places/around people he feels comfortable with/trusts.
  • Steve disapproves of when Tony stays awake working for days at a time. But he also finds it incredibly amusing when Tony comes into the bedroom at the end of a bender, all stumbling and incoherent. It’s only 7 or 8 and Steve’s just laying in bed reading a book or watching TV, but Tony will shower quickly, put on sleep clothes, climb into bed with Steve and lay in his lap, burying his face in Steve’s stomach. Sometimes he’ll even pick up Steve’s hand and hold it in his hair until Steve starts running his fingers through it. Tony just relaxes right down and falls fast asleep and Steve is perfectly content to sit there and just hold him for a couple hours.
  • When they lie in bed at the end of a long day and cuddle, Tony likes to be the little spoon. He likes the feeling of Steve’s arms around him holding him tight. It makes him feel safe and protected.
  • Steve likes to be the big spoon because he loves holding Tony close to him. He loves when Tony buries his face in Steve’s chest so he can bury his face in Tony’s hair. He likes holding Tony because he feels like he can shield him from the cruelty of the outside world, and maybe even from Tony’s own demons.
  • Everyone assumes Steve is a morning person and Tony is very much not but it’s actually the other way around
  • Steve hates waking up early but because of the serum and his military training his body will wake him up at 5 AM
  • He’ll get up and go for a run but he’ll bitch and moan about it in his head the whole time, and he’s basically a grumpy old man until he eats breakfast and gets his morning kiss from his still sleepy Tony
  • Tony (when he actually goes to bed at a normal time - or at all) will wake up naturally pretty early - the Avengers were shocked that first morning together in the tower when Tony walked in at 8 AM with a smile, grabbed a cup of coffee, and asked Steve for the business section of the paper he had grabbed that morning.
  • Tony in the morning is also Steve’s favorite because he wakes up but he’s not fully awake. He looks so cute in the mornings, half-lidded eyes, pillow creases on his cheek, hair a mess, drowning in Steve’s t-shirts. He smiles at everyone and leans into Steve’s touch and everyone agrees that he looks so cute and cuddly and adorable in the mornings.
  • Though once he’s had some food and a couple cups of coffee he’s back to his usual obnoxious self.
Caught up.

Hi, thank you so much for sending this request! Hopefully, this fits everything that you wanted! It was a fun prompt to write to be quite honest. Hope you enjoy!

PS: Everyone, I will be occasionally posting the ships that I have finished for the 2K Event so if you don’t want to see that, you can block it! It’s tagged as ‘2K ships’. 


You liked to say that you rarely have or get any dreams while you sleep. Be it a good dream or a nightmare but somehow, tonight, it’s a different story. You have been tossing and turning on your bed, sleeping fitfully and you feel out of breath – as if you had been running a lot. Normally you are not much of a mover whenever you sleep; you either sleep on your left side or your right side but that definitely did not happen tonight. You are tossing and turning so much Bruce actually wakes up from his slumber – and between the two of you, Bruce is a very heavy sleeper and sometimes it’s really hard trying to wake him up ahead of time.

Bruce squints at the clock – it’s only been three hours since he had returned from patrol – and wonders what woke him up. When you let out a pained whimper, Bruce turns over to look at you. Seeing you like that. Bruce realizes that you are the reason why he is awake at this hour. He lifts himself up on his elbow and really looks at you. “Y/N?” His voice is deep from sleep and just as Bruce is about to reach you with his other hand to shake your body, you shot up from the bed, letting out a strangled yelp, surprising Bruce.

Bruce immediately sits up and the first thing he notices after switching on the bed side lamp is how much you are trembling. “Y/N, are you alright?” Bruce asks as he scoots closer to you. He wounds an arm around your shoulder, the frown on his deepening when he receives no response from you.

The nightmares felt too vivid, too surreal and suddenly you can feel the panic overtaking you so you immediately push the covers away – pushing Bruce in the moment too – and roll off the bed, taking Bruce by surprise. But just as you are about to rush out of the bedroom, Bruce’s strong arms stops you and he pulls you to his chest, using his free hand to cup your cheek, making you look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head at Bruce’s question and tears well up in your eyes. Right now, you are filled with a lot of panic and worry and all you want to do is make sure your boys are alright. “I – I need to see them, Bruce. I need to.” You beg him – this is the first time you have ever begged Bruce for anything. He frowns but nods his head, releasing his hold on you and you head outside your room. The first destination you have in mind is Damian’s room.

“Damian?” You call out, almost having a heart attack thinking that your nightmare had been real, that Damian is dying somewhere when you hear a snore coming from the floor right beside his bed. You pad over to find Damian sleeping with Titus. You freeze in your tracks, letting out a sigh of relief when you see the two of them. Bruce walks up behind you, a smile on his face when he sees the same thing. He picks up the blanket from Damian’s bed and throws it over Damian and Titus. Damian continues to snore softly, snuggling Titus.

Feeling relieved at the thought of Damian sleeping soundly – clearly still alive and breathing – you walk out of Damian’s bedroom and head over to the West wing where Tim’s bedroom is located at. Bruce trails after you quietly, keeping his eyes on you. You knock on his door, once, twice and when Tim doesn’t answer, you open the door to find Tim slumped over his computer desk, sleeping. You approach him and press your hand on his back lightly. “Timmy?”

Tim stirs slightly and he blinks a couple of times before sitting up. He focuses his gaze on you. “Hey, Ma. What’s up?” Tim asks, sleepily, rubbing one of his eyes. He yawns and sits up. Spying Bruce by the door, Tim furrows his eyebrows. “Ma, is everything alright?”

You nod your head before leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead. Tim looks at you before giving you a small smile. He stands up and pulls you in a brief hug – Tim always knows what to do whenever you are feeling down. You pull away before telling Tim to sleep on the bed instead of the chair. “Your back is going to snap if you keep that up.” You point out, already slowly getting back to your normal self. Tim laughs before nodding his head.

Bruce holds your hand as the both of you leave the room together. “Are you alright now?” Bruce asks as the two of you walk over to one of the studies. He brings you over to the sofa and the both of you sit down. “Do you want me to call Dick and Jason?” He asks and you slowly nod your head. Even though you know the nightmares had been a – nightmare – you still want to assure yourself that all of your boys are alright.

Calling Dick was a little bit easy – he sounded a little bit groggy over the phone but that was because you had disturbed his sleep. With a promise from Dick to drop by in the morning for breakfast, you let your eldest boy go back to sleep and talking with Jason had been a little bit hard. It takes a couple of tries before Jason actually picks up and when he eventually does, you can hear Roy shouting in the background – ‘are you on a mission, Red Hood?’ – and yes, apparently Jason is currently on a mission in a country where the time zone is different from Gotham. ‘Please stay safe and I love you, Red Hood’. You tell him and Jason’s reply had been, ‘I one-four-three you too, Bat-Ma.’ That brings a smile to your face because after all of these years, Jason still uses the code the two of you made up when he had been younger.

“Y/N, are you fine now?” Bruce pulls you in to his chest and you wound your arms around his waist, nuzzling his chest. “Do you care to tell me what your nightmare had been about?” He murmurs in to your hair and you shake your head. You don’t think you can stand to actually think about your nightmare or the fact that there might be a possibility of it happening in the future so you just press your nose to his chest, inhaling Bruce’s natural scent.

“Can you hold me until I feel better?” You mumble.

Bruce chuckles before pressing his lips on your temple. “Of course – I can hold you as long as you want, until you feel better too.” You snuggle closer to your husband and the steady thud of his heartbeat lulls you to sleep a few minutes later.