in search of the sleep

I think one of the things I really like about chickens is how accessible they are.

Like, I was telling my cousin about how I had finally gotten a mille de fleur hen I’d been searching for for two years and she sort of gasped and asked how much I had to spend for it and I told her $5.

I just had to find one, not save up for it.

A very sparkly and ver blue Aqua because I’m trying to figure this style out

You can get her on my RedBubble and TeePublic (MintySkulls on both)

jalapeno--business  asked:

So whenever I read trc, I'm always overwhelmed by this almost pathological desire to experience the same feelings of wonder and beauty and magic that you describe in the series. Yes, I understand that there is no sentient, magical forest to discover, and no sleeping king that I can search for, but I still have this urge to have similar feelings and experiences in my life. So how do you experience a similar kind of magic and wonder that you describe in your books, in everyday life?

Dear jalapeno–business,

Are you listening closely?

As an author, I travel a lot. At one point, I was on the road one day out of every three — planes, hotels, rental cars. There’s a rhythm to it, like running up a very long flight of stairs. You figure out how many stairs you can take in a jump, and how to breathe-in-breathe-out to keep from wasting your lungs, and you learn how to tell when you have to stop to rest your knees or you just won’t make it to the top. 

The airports and the planes and the people can all start to seem the same after awhile, if you’re looking at them wrong. If you let them. Anything in life can sound ordinary if that’s all you’re listening for.

Back in 2014, I was in a Texas airport. The night had that glittering senseless jitter to it that happens when you’re tired but going home, finally going home. I was early for my flight and sitting several gates away from my real gate, listening to music. A young man sat down two seats away. Ordinarily, tired and occupied with the peculiar every-day magic of the music in my headphones, I wouldn’t have noticed him, but a moment later, a phone rang. He asked if it was mine; it wasn’t. Someone had forgotten it on the seat between us. 

We both looked at it.

It rang again for someone who didn’t know to pick up, and then he took it away to one of the United desks for them to give it to someone who would listen. He didn’t return.

Two hours later, I went to my real gate to board. Full flight. Everyone was checking and double-checking their seat assignments as they defended their right to aisles and windows. When my seatmate settled himself next to me, I looked up, and it was the guy from the waiting area. He had a tilt to his chin that telegraphed that he thought he was hot shit and a grin that said he recognized me. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

We laughed ruefully and applied our headphones — we both knew the routine of polite air travel. But the agreeable tingle of the coincidence still ate at me, and I could tell it ate at him, too, because after a few moments, he offered me a truffle from his bag. I told him I couldn’t take it because of my allergies, but the headphones came off. We started to talk.

And he was a big talker. He was cocky. A surgical resident. He told me how he loved the hell out of taking internal organs out of people. He described how he listened to sixty-minute epic soundtracks in his ear buds while he removed appendixes and gallbladders, kidneys and stones. He told me of watching Dateline by himself at the end of seventy and eighty hour work weeks, and he told me about his Hyundai, which I made fun of. Confidentially, he whispered to me about a surgeon he knew who had the goal of removing every gallbladder in Texas. Two hours into the flight, the conversation tilted toward spirituality. He’s hot shit, he confessed, and works hard, but he sometimes wonders if he’s allowed to want to be successful, or if that makes him a bad person. Because he’s working a lot of hours in a week, and he’s tired, but he’s pretty sure that he’s hot shit, but maybe that’s not allowed.

I was watching him fumble his fingers over each other. He was scratching a hole in his own palm.

And all at once there was a phone in my head, and it was ringing just for me. 

“One of your parents has obsessive-compulsive disorder,” I told him. “Maybe both.”

The shimmering grin slipped. “How did you know? How could you know that?” 

I asked him if he was getting treatment for it.

He said, “No, no, I’m over it. How could you know that?”

Because in a foggy way, that phone was still ringing between us, and now, I recognized the number.

I said, “Don’t kill yourself.”

He replied, “No way,” and then he started to cry. 

The shit-eating grin had vanished. He told me how he’d made up his mind that he didn’t want to make it to 35. He’d researched all the ways to make sure he didn’t. Over the next hour, I told him about my OCD, and how I thought his uncertainty over wanting to be successful but also wanting to be humble was a function of his OCD’s spiritual obsession. That he wasn’t over OCD, that you never were, but that his agony didn’t have to be a real thing. He could be both humble and successful. It wasn’t against the rules of goodness to be proud of what you’d done, as long as you were doing things for the right reasons. I told him how once I bought a race car, but I’d given it away to someone who could use the money, because I realized I was only racing to look sexy in a car, and not because it was really making me happy. 

I told him he didn’t have to worry about looking sexy in a Hyundai, though, and he replied that he would look sexy in anything, and then he cried a little more. 

Everyone else in the plane was asleep, but we were wide awake.

When we got off the plane in Virginia, the surgical resident gave me an awkward side-hug, and he wiped his face. Then he dug in his bag for the wrapper from his truffle. As the other travelers shuffled past us sleepily, he pressed it into my hand. He didn’t want to give me his name, he said, but he wanted something for me to remember so that when we ran into each other again in 15 years, I’d know who he was.

After we’d parted ways, I turned my phone off airplane mode, and a text came in that had been sent while I was in the air. It was from the person I’d given the race car to. I hadn’t heard from him in nearly six months. The text said only: thank u maggie i have such a hppy life bc of u

Magic.

You have to be listening closely. Phones are ringing all over the world, and sometimes they look like magical forests, and sometimes they look like race cars, and sometimes they look like surgical residents.

urs,

Stiefvater

i really hate how much my standards rose bc of fictional characters tbh like where will i find a nice attractive guy who happens to be a millionaire w a deadly wasp allergy and searches the entire globe for sleeping welsh kings bc of a voice he heard when he was literally on the verge of death and drives to weird magical forests w his friends in his orange 1973 camaro also known as The Pig???

In one universe I never found you and you never found me and we never went to the carnival. You never held my hand and we never kissed on the ghost train. I never got too familiar with the the feeling of your arm around me. In this universe, we never even met.

In another universe I was never scared. I never held back from meeting you out of fear. We never broke up because of it.

In another universe, we took our second chance when we were suppose to. I never told you to wait to meet me because of my badly dyed hair and you never got tired of waiting. We are still together now.

In another universe, you never fell in love with her. I never cried.

In another universe, you never came back. You never reminded me what it was like to be in love with you. You didn’t turn up when i was least expecting it and I never fell for you again. We never went to that castle “just as friends” and I didn’t search for excuses to hold your hand. I never cried myself to sleep because I can’t be friends with you.

In another universe, we worked. In this universe, we’ve been together for a year and 9 months and it doesn’t hurt to breathe. You meet me from school and we spend our weekends on adventures. We kiss at the top of the castle. We kiss at the beach. We kiss everywhere. This is the universe I will live in. The universe where you love me.

Sharing Is Caring

Originally posted by knightlley


Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: “Hey! Can you write a JeffxReader? Where the reader is Clay sister (and have a secret crush on Jeff), someday she was going to sleep in Hanna’s house, but for some reason she didn’t stay to sleep and when she go home she find Jeff slepping in her bed. You can choose how it ends. Thank you! :D”

Words: 1.247

A/N: I am happy that I received a Jeff imagine! Although I didn’t want to leave Hannah alone, because I can imagine the reader being on the tapes after because of it. Yup, I am a little bit paranoid. Sorry. Anyways, I hope you like it and I would be grateful if you send other requests!
Thank you.

- G. x

Link: Part 2

Warning: (Y/H/C) is Your Hair Colour.


“Oh my God, you seriously like Jeff Atkins?” Hannah exclaimed excitedly and energetically as she knew the secret you’ve been keeping for years.

“Who wouldn’t like him?” You stated as if it was normal to like Jeff. Well, he was good looking, kind and funny. He had the characteristics you were looking for a boy and you knew that he was the one when you met him.

“Aw, I hope he likes you back.” Hannah honestly said as she played with your (Y/H/C) hair while you both sat on her comfortable double bed. You decided to have a sleepover because it has been awhile since you last spent time together. She was one of your close friends and you loved her presence.

“Well, he’s older than me and I am out of his league.” You shrugged your shoulders as you felt a little bit down for what you’ve just said.

“Oh, cut it off! You are beautiful, intelligent and sweet, it is impossible to not fall in love with you.” Hannah comforted you as she praised you with her sincere words.

“Aw, Hannah.” You looked at her with a wide smile and you hugged her. “Thank you.”

“It was the truth.” She hugged you back as a nice friend she was.

“Talking of these boys,” You started as you broke the hug and she hid her face behind her hands as she already knew the next question. “how are you and my older brother, Clay?” You flashed a smirk and you saw her cheeks turned red.

“Oh my God, I knew it.” She laughed, still having her face hidden. “We’re friends, (Y/N). We work at the movie theatre and we talk at school, that’s it.”

“Jesus, Clay never asked you out?” You shook your head for your disappointment because you rooted for them being together. You considered Clay and Hannah as a perfect couple.

“He’s shy.” Hannah shortly answered.

“But it’s not an excuse! I would slap that dork silly, seriously.” You unleashed a long and deep sigh because Hannah seemed disappointed too and her being dismayed was one of the things you wouldn’t want to see. “I’ll talk to him, because I know that he likes you too, a lot!”

“Geez, really?” Hannah smiled widely and you nodded happily as her happiness came back once again.

“You can count on that!” You winked at her and she bit her lower lip. You stared at each other and you both let out some soft giggles for no reason, but it was interrupted as you heard some noise coming from the living room.

There was a discussion happening between Hannah’s parents and you could tell that she felt embarrassed for it. She hated it when they fought and having a friend hearing their complaints wasn’t one of the things that she wanted to happen.

“Are you okay, Hannah?” You worriedly asked and she just shook it off, obviously avoiding herself to ask you some help.

“(Y/N), do you mind if we cancel this sleepover?” She fidgeted with her warm blankets as she was nervous for your possible reaction.

“Oh no, it’s fine for me if you don’t feel comfortable. I mean, I would stay to cheer you up, but I will give you space if you want.” You sympathetically said as you understood her situation.

“I am fine, really.” She assured you. “I will call you if I ever need some help. Thank you.”

“Don’t bother to call me, okay?” You reminded her once again as you got up from her bed. You gathered your things and you put them in your backpack.

“Noted.” She smiled widely at you, not minding her parents anymore. She got up too and you both went outside her room as she led you to the house’s front door. Her parents stopped throwing shit at each other as they saw you going away and you could say that they felt guilty because of it.

“Good night, Hannah.” You sweetly greeted. “Call me or text me, okay? I am always here.”

“I know and I thank you for that.” She hugged you and you responded to it by hugging her back. “Good night.” She then let you go.

“Good night, see you tomorrow.” You said as you unlocked your bike’s chains. You then rode it as you said goodbye to Hannah once again. She watched you as you started to pedal way back home.

During your journey, you thought of Hannah’s family situation and you knew that it wasn’t your business but you wanted to help her. You wanted to help her, because you didn’t want for it to be one of the reasons she would feel sad or disappointed. Her life was already hard and you didn’t want for her to carry another problem on her back.

Once you arrived home, you silently went to your room, not wanting to wake anybody up. You plopped your things on your desk and you let yourself fall on the bed carelessly.

“What the fuck, Clay?!” You heard a deep voice complaining and you were shocked, mostly scared, for a moment. You were afraid to move, but you quickly searched for the lamp that rested on your bedside table and you turned the lights on. “Oh, it’s you (Y/N)!”

“What the hell are you doing in my room, Jeff?” You corrugated your forehead as you wondered why. You liked Jeff, but you knew that you had the right to be furious after what happened.

“Clay said that you were staying at Hannah’s!” Jeff sat up as he covered his shirtless body. “Boys can have sleepover too, duh!”

“Jeez!” You laughed even though you were annoyed. “I am sleeping on the couch downstairs then.”

“No, I am sleeping there. This is your bed and it’s not okay to let a woman sleep uncomfortably.” He ranted as he searched for his shirt and wore it soon after.

“It’s okay, Jeff. Stay here.” You flashed him a smile and you got up from your bed, ready to go out of the room.

“No!” Jeff protested. “We can share! It’s a double bed and I can sleep on one side and you on the other.”

“Hmm?” You raised an eyebrow as you considered his proposal.

“Only if it’s okay with you. If not, I am sleeping on the couch.” He smiled as he scratched his nape.

“Alright, I’ll share my bed with you.” You went back on the bed and you sat on your space. “Only because I don’t want for you to be uncomfortable, okay?”

“Alright, (Y/N).” You could bet that you saw him smirking before you turned the lights off.

“No malice, Jeff!” You slapped his muscular arm and he just let out a laugh. Oh, how much you loved that laughter. “Thank my parents because they taught us that sharing is caring.”

“I’m thanking Lainie and Matt tomorrow, don’t worry.” He jokingly answered and you just giggled because of it. “Good night, (Y/N).”

“Good night, Jeff.” You smiled while you had your eyes closed. You couldn’t believe it, so you had a hard time drifting in your sleep, same for Jeff.

You were happy that you had a chance to share the bed with your ultimate crush and both knew that you would wake up hugging each other, but who cares? You both liked each other, you just had no guts to admit it and this is a great coincidence to show the affection to each other.


Kusakabe and Sajou's beautiful love story: From first love to forever staying in love

let’s talk about these colored pages. love love love manga pages like these… almost no words but there’s love all over. The story, the feelings, the “doki doki”, and the heart warming sensation and everything else conveyed within the illustrations.

Sleeping together like this and waking up beside your most beloved is such bliss. Kusakabe and Sajou sleeping like this is like a glimpse of their many happy days to come in their married future together… the happy and domestic days of their life.

Sleeping holding hands and waking up with him still holding your hand…tightly. Sajou waking up and tucking Kusakabe’s hand inside the blanket. And Sajou can’t help but poke this adorable person beside him. 

Sajou’s smile is a picture of pure happiness and love.

And Kusakabe.. his hand was released by Sajou and tucked inside the blanket but he knew that something is missing.. and the fact that he is sleeping but still instinctively even in sleep is searching and groping for Sajou’s hand.

And in seeing that, Sajou held the hand so dearly and lovingly.. With his heart’s desire for them to always stay like that, meet there like that, look into each other like they always have. From first love to staying in love for always… Kusakabe and Sajou’s love story will always be a very beautiful one. 

“you know it’s been a month since we moved in together?” Even threw it out casually over their morning coffee, like it wasn’t the most incredible thing either of them could have imagined.

“A month and two days now.” Isak corrected, grinning at Even from behind his mug.

“Counting the days, are you?  Sick of me already?” Even teased, nudging Isak’s foot under the table.

“Oh yeah, I’m already looking for a replacement roomie.” Isak nodded seriously and Even tried not to laugh.

“Yeah?  How long have you been looking?”

“Hmm,” Isak sipped his coffee thoughtfully.  Since day two probably.”

“That long!” Even gasped, setting his mug down on the table in faux outrage.  “And no luck, huh?”

“No.” Isak shook his head mournfully, but Even could see the smile dancing around the corners of Isak’s lips and he couldn’t help but lean closer.

“What will you do, huh?” He murmured, searching Isak’s face still flushed with sleep.

“I guess you’ll have to stay.” Isak sighed, putting his empty mug down.

“Pity.” Even nodded, his gaze trailing down to Isak’s lips.  They were shiny with coffee and Even desperately wanted to kiss the last sweetness from them.

“A tragedy.” Isak agreed, his voice still rough and not quite awake.

“Whatever could we do to make it better for you?” Even whispered, unable to look away from Isak’s coffee damp lips.

“Hmm,” Isak pretended to think for a few seconds before he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Even’s.  You’d think that after months of kisses (and more) that it would lose its novelty, but Even’s stomach still dropped like he was on a rollercoaster and his heart still raced in his chest and he still felt those fireworks under his skin.

They stayed like that for a few minutes: exchanging lazy coffee stained kisses over their kitchen table, too tired to take things further than that.  They didn’t have long anyway, they had to get ready for school and head out for the tram soon.

“I love you.” Isak sighed against his lips.

And hell if that wasn’t the best way to start his day.

Unicorn Tolerance

Drawn to the dark
Covered by the blood when possible
Call to the corners
To any open Crucible
Easy to reach
Bearing every mark unmissibly
Wanna leave behind some token of what I carried with me
Search in the storm drains
Sleep in the underpasses
Try hard to look hard
Behind my blackout sunglasses

But I have high unicorn tolerance
I have high unicorn tolerance
I have high unicorn tolerance
I have high unicorn tolerance

Swim with real sharks
Those who never speak when spoken to
Hard limits fade into memory
Once broken through
Scaling the well
Every single day instinctively
Feel shame real shame
For what my friends must think of me
Dig through the graveyard
Rub the bones against my face
It gets real nice around the graveyard
Once you’ve acquired the taste
And when the clouds do clear away
Get a momentary chance to see
The thing I’ve been trying to beat to death
The soft creature that I used to be
The better animal I used to be

Draw where I’m drawn
Seldom wonder why just follow you
Never blame the rags that swallowed me
For the place the river took me to
Long life to the spiders
Safe travels to the crow
Love to the ghosts
Who taught me everything I know

But I have high unicorn tolerance
I have high unicorn tolerance
But I have high unicorn tolerance
I have high unicorn tolerance

from Goths (2017)