rafters

hey look who’s back with more foreteller headcanons (Spoiler, it’s me)

  • They’re all half-convinced that Gula can teleport.
    • Like, they /know/ that he can’t
    • but he still manages to show up in places he really shouldn’t be able to get to at the randomest times
    • He was in the rafters one time when Invi glanced in the library at three am
    • He was on a mission on another world one day and Luxu tried to sneak one of Gula’s secret stash of chocolates, only to find him there waiting
    • Master has found him sitting in his chair in his office. What’re you doing here Gula.  The door was locked, Gula.  I am about to have a secret meeting with Ira.  How did you know.  Why is the window open.  We’re twelve floors up, Gula.
  • So Invi’s like the only foreteller besides Luxu who doesn’t show the bottom of her face, yeah? so i’m throwing this out there that she’s got vitiligo, maybe not a severe case, but definitely on her neck a bit and maybe arms (yes, yes, I know that’s not shown when she does take the scarf down but just give me this square enix, let me ignore the fact that all the foretellers have the same white skin)  and she’s pretty sensitive about it so even before she was Anguis’ master and before the masks and everything she usually had a scarf on.  Ira probably always tried to get her to take it off and encouraged her to not be shy about it but gah that’s just from me wanting to ship them
  • Okay so consider with me: Family board game night
    • we’ll go with monopoly because why not
  • Gula was the treasurer once but no one is making that mistake again so it gets given to Invi or to ava on occasion
  • Aced gets way too into the game.  like, waaay too invested. like, he won’t let it go, like, calm down, Aced, you’re not stuck in jail forever–no you don’t understand i have to get to go, invi, i need that 200
  • Ira tries to pretend he’s not into it but he so is.  he so is.  he’s got everybody’s scores memorized and he’s determined not to lose more often than luxu
  • Invi’s won the most times, closely followed by Gula.  Aced is pretty close after them tho, and Ava wins fairly often but she’s got this problem where she doesn’t like to be mean and she’ll forgive loans to not put people out of the game coughLuxucough but she does win sometimes (and no, none of them let her win that’s preposterous, they never do that psh).  Luxu has really bad luck whenever he plays, but he pulls off a nice deception every once in a while and wins if Invi’s distracted.  Ira can win, but he just… isn’t good with commitment? like? won’t buy the property because he wants to save his money ‘cuz Gula’s got his corner up ahead and if i get between a three and a five i’ll land there i can’t risk it. 
  • Master usually doesn’t play but when he does he dominates. Every single time. Don’t ask him to play Clue because then you never, never win.  he’s probably just as good at chess.
  • okay so you know who’s paranoid? ira.  anyone laughing in the vicinity–boom, ira’s there, were you talking about me?  He shows up in Master’s study randomly: ‘Master did you see, the front door’s open, we’ve been infiltrated someone’s broken in.’ No, that was just Luxu, he left the door open on his way to the bakery.  Someone gets sick? No we’ve been cursed who have you offended recently (is that a trick question, gula asks, coughing).  Invi finds Ira almost in tears one day cuz his mask broke-no invi you don’t get it it’s a sign this means i’m not fit to be Unicornis’ Master, invi stop sighing this is serious
  • Aced’s got, like, no filter, which surprises no one
  • but neither does Master, which is worse, because Master is always accurate in his observations.  like, you know that John Mulaney stand-up bit where he’s talking about twelve-year-olds or whatever, how they always make fun of the one thing you’re really insecure about? yeah, that’s Master
    • Oh, Ava, you really shouldn’t have trusted that shady-looking kid (no, really? ava asks, after being stabbed by said shady kid)
    • Invi, you know Aced thinks you’re a tattle tale (but I did see Luxu–Invi says anyway, her voice faltering)
    • Ira, you haven’t been practicing your fighting, have you? that was sloppy (yes, Master, Ira says, mentally writing his resignation letter)
    • Man, Luxu, you sure have this weird habit of shrinking in your chair every time i ask you to do something (no i don’t, Luxu says, under the table)
  • Invi: “This is a bad idea.” Ira: “If you ever stop saying that, I’ll know it’s time to start worrying.”
  • There’s a rule in the castle that no one is allowed to cast Fire in the third-floor corridor but no one knows why (Luxu reddens suspiciously whenever it’s brought up)
  • There’s another rule that everybody knows the reason for because they were all there that one time Aced accidentally smashed his Glider through three flights of stairs and so they moved Glider practice to outside
your definition of ride and my definition of Ride are not up for semantical discussion

it’s not just a fucking expression easily expelled for something
so pressing and it’s not even
worth stressing,
if you were trying your best,
then
couldn’t follow through with
all of this and all of that,
break-up my fucking heart
like the bat of Babe Ruth
when he was two
strikes down pointing
to left field rafters
you know his fucking name
so you know what happened after
you were supposed to buckle in
with no care, buckle up, hold
air as we swung wheels
burning brakes and take chances
that no sane heart would take
I may have been undiagnosed but
you could smell the hood
on my breath and you could
taste the darkness in my eyes
and instead of ointment it turned
to opium and began eating your veins
watching you die slowly twisted
bipolarities in my fucking brain
So I started to drink
you started to drift
I came home and punched black
holes in the walls and bloodied knuckles
and hearts with right hand and left hooks
with all your greatest fears thrown back
in your face like a cold dinner plate
at a dimming five star restaurant
whiskey won’t remember what was said
but what’s left of my playground swinging
soul will never forget how they ripped
out your heart

You bailed at
the intersection of
forever and what the fuck
do I do now

except drop the clutch
and watch stars burn out

sunspell-wra  asked:

Send 📷 and I will find a picture of your Face Claim that I love! ( Ben Barnes )

Dice says: Georgiana!


The ridiculously handsome raven that perched on Georgie’s bar held the photograph in its beak, parading it about like some trophy. He wasn’t at all willing to give it up, for when Georgie went to grab it he jumped and flew to the rafters, they dived for the barmaids head, only to be met with the wet smack of a towel that sent him and the picture skidding along the wooden surface.

“Well ain’t that bein’ somethin… I know… well I don’t be really knowin’ him, but I know who he be. Jameson, ya big arse.. ya done stole this from tha’ guy who be writin’ all them… books!”

As if to prove her point to the bird who stared at her with beady black eyes, Georgie disappeared into the kitchen, only to return with a worn out copy of one the aforementioned novels. It clearly had been read more than a few times and sported a tattered pink ribbon as bookmark. Granted, the picture on the back was far more polished, but she had been right.

“Ha! See I tol’ ya! Mus’ ‘ave been somethin’ candid or somethin’… sure is good lookin’…like he dun jus’ rolled outta bed aftah a a rough nigh’ o’drinkin’ m’whiskey… kinda wanna jus’ muss his hair all up more.. make it be stickin’ up on th’ends..ya can jus’ be gettin’ in line Miss Georgie, hal’ th’city o’Silvermoon likely be knockin’ at that man’s door…. ‘sides… doubt he’d look good inna hat.”


((Thank you for the ask!!! <3 Been waiting to use that gif for a bit!))

Suppose there was a species that was very peaceful, very good at diplomacy and just generally very nice— but they also happened to look really terrifying to humans. Sort of an opposite to that ‘humans are cute space orcs’ thing— species X is perfectly friendly, but just happens to look like they walked out of a human horror movie.

We don’t blame them for it, it’s not their fault (and we’re slightly too afraid to talk to them about it anyway) we just quietly avoid ships where they are stationed and stay away from areas where they live and, over time, it just becomes accepted that, for whatever reason, you don’t put humans and species X together. Captains turn down human applicants if they’ve got a member of species X on their crew and visa versa. They barely notice that they’re doing it, it’s just how things are done.

Then one day a human crewed ship breaks down in species X space so that one of their ships picks up the distress signal. Being such lovely people, they offer to help and the humans can’t think of a good enough excuse to refuse.

The repairs take about a week and, the whole time, the species X crew members are loving the human ship. It’s so spacious, you barely even see other crew members! (They don’t realise that all the humans are constantly ducking out the way whenever they see them coming.)

The humans, meanwhile, just spend the entire week in Hell. The species X crew members like to take shortcuts through the ventilation shafts, so you can constantly hear them skittering around above your head; the ship is full of this low key but very distinctive smell— rotting meat, the smell of death (apparently they give it off when they’re happy); half the crew have goosebumps, despite the temperature controls working perfectly.

The ones working in the engine room directly alongside the species X crew have it hardest though, they can’t run away— and it’s very hard to relax and do your job when, suddenly, you hear this noise above your head and a hairless, milk white creature with no eyes and a huge mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and long gangling limbs with fingers and toes that look human but like they’ve been stretched, leaps silently with catlike grace from the rafters, lands right next to you, flicks out a forked tongue, holds out a long taloned hand and asks “can I borrow your spanner?”

do you think the stars look down on earth and count the people?
do you think the stars pick the prettiest ones, and call them constellations?
do you think the stars called my brother a shooting star, as he was hanging from the ceiling rafters by his neck?
do you think the stars count the people?

I think Lardo lets Tango watch her mix paint because she once noticed him watching paint-mixing stim vids on his phone.

Like, one day she is walking through the Haus and everything is quiet, which is weird. Then, she notices Tango just chilling on the couch. Then she really confused because it’s quiet and Tango is there and usually you can’t have one with the other. So, she goes over and peeks over his shoulder and he’s scrolling through a paint-mixing stim account on instagram, taking the time to watch the entire video before moving on. There’s the faint sound of the pallet knife sometimes if the colours really attract his attention and he taps to turn on the sound, but, other than that, everything about him is silent.

That’s when Lardo gets an idea. She isn’t busy right now, so she runs up and gets a couple of her tubes of cheap paints (acrylic, oil, some pigmenting, a giant tube of white paint, some paint thinner, ect.), a couple pallet knives, and some glitter. She comes back down and taps on Tango’s head. “Follow me, taddy,” she says, nodding to the door.

Of course he follows, Lardo is mama duck, but that doesn’t mean he does it without question. With slipping his phone in his pocket, the inquiries start a-coming. “Where are we going? What’s in that bag? When did you get home? Am I in trouble? I thought we were allowed to be there if the door was unlocked?? What’s that clanking coming from your bag? How was your day? Where are we going??”

Lardo is a master at letting him just ask without giving real answers (and, frankly, he’s thankful that she doesn’t yell at him like Holster does), and soon their at Lardo’s super secret art studio. At this point, Tango’s been here before and has stopped asking the “Where are we going?” because he recognized the area. But he still had so many questions, even up to the moment Lardo put a small red blob next to a larger light blue one on top of a big smear of white.

When she started mixing, he went absolutely quiet and fixed his eyes on Lardo’s hands, listening to the scrape of the triangular knife on the sheet of plastic she uses as her pallet.

They do this for hours, Lardo even letting him paint a bit on a spare gessoed canvas she uses to swatch the colours on to see what they look like. He isn’t really the best artist but he does get the shape of a multicoloured rubber duck with shades on. It’s mostly purples and blues and greys because those are the colours he said he liked seeing being mixed the most.

He eventually starts buying her the bulk cheap acrylics from A.C. Moore. They spend their Thursday and Sunday afternoons mixing paints.

Lardo puts the piece they made up in her senior art show. “Takes Two to Tony” is the title of the piece (only the hockey players get it, theater kids think it’s about the Tonys and spend too much time trying to figure out what a messy, tecnicolour duck with sunglasses has to do with the relevant plays and musicals of 2016).

It’s the most commented on piece in the guestbook and someone even asks if they could buy it and leaves their number (Lardo never calls them).

Tango is quiet when he looks at it because it reminds him of his mama duck and how she figured out what made him the happiest and used it to help him.

When Lardo graduates, she finds Tango at the ceremony and hugs him, slipping the key to the studio into his hand. “It’s all yours now, Tang. I’ll see you there.” He goes and there is all the paints he got her, the piece of hard plastic pallet, and the painting. It’s now hanging from a rafter, the light from the dusty skylight filtering in and making the metalics and glitters they used on it shimmer. Tango is so happy, he cries.

They still meet every Thursday and Sunday afternoon there.

Tango’s started his own paint-mixing stim account on Instagram and a “mama-duck-lardsy” always comments, saying things like “that blue can be used as a highlight on the duck” or “good job with the pigmenting, who’s your teacher? ;)”.

Flirting is Hard When You’re Harry Potter

Original headcanon by @ harry-is-lily-ginny-is-james!!!

It’s still monday! …for a half an hour anyway. This one ended up being much bigger than I originally planned. I hope you like it~

(Now posted on AO3!)



“It’s all the paper talks about anymore,” Draco frowned, “Stupid Potter.”

“We’re agog,” Blaise said pouring himself and Draco a cup of coffee.

Pansy smothered a yawn and picked up a piece of toast, “Do tell.”

Draco folded his paper, eyes scanning past the picture to the drivel written below, “Potter’s going to join the auror’s, change the world,” he grumbled, “you’d think the sun shines out of his arsehole the way they go on about him.”

Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” A voice said behind him from the Ravenclaw table, “that Potter’s a total pillock.”

“Exactly-” Draco turned on his bench, his words choking off before they were halfway out of his mouth.

“I really don’t know what they see in him,” Potter said flatly, taking a massive bite of pancake.

Luna smiled absently at Potter’s side, “I don’t know, I’ve always thought he was quite nice.”

Potter picked up his pumpkin juice, “To-tal pil-lock.”

Draco felt his face go hot and he spun around back to his plate. Blaise quickly picked up his coffee cup to hide a growing smile. Pansy snorted, almost choking on her toast, she ducked her head and fumbled for her cup.

Draco grabbed his bag and left the table with an imperious sniff.

Keep reading

10

Nearby is Valhalla, vast and gold-bright. And every day, Odin chooses slain men to join him. They arm themselves and fight in the courtyard. They kill one another; but every night they rise again, and ride back to the hall, and feast. The roof is made out of shields. The rafters are spears. Coats of mail litter the benches. A wolf stands at the Western door and an eagle hovers above it. It has five hundred and forty doors, and when Ragnarok comes, eight hundred warriors will march out of each door, shoulder to shoulder.

sartorial headcanons
  • Taako cannot walk in heels. It’s an embarrassment. 
  • He’s not going to let that ruin an outfit, though, so he just. Levitates everywhere when he wears them.
  • You know who can walk in heels? Who is actually preternaturally good at it?
  • Angus. Taako is in turns blindly jealous and proud and baffled.
  • Killian cannot wear sleeves. 99% of the time she walks around in shirts with the sleeves cut off.
  • She has a lot of nice vests for date nights, though.
  • The regulators have team jackets. Like, bomber jackets with elaborate embroidery on the back.
  • They hoisted Boyland’s into the rafters of the training room like a hockey jersey.
  • When No3113 joins the team they make her like… a cape, essentially? That ties to her back.
  • She loves it an only takes it off for missions.

I have a lot of these, go figure. Please reblog and add your hcs!

All We Can Do
crystal-geometry
All We Can Do

A cheeky song about Garnet (and the others) looking after baby Steven!

Tagging the usual crowd plus some who I think might like it: @bluespacequeen @jen-iii @jasper-jen @basicblokc @harley-stuck-30

This is based on two one-shots, whose writers have very kindly let me use. The first is this one by @cardassian-andorian - the first verse is basically lifted from it (with adjustments for rhyming). The second is A Moment of Rest by @squaremomgsquad. Both are lovely adorable pieces with a wholesome dose of Rupphire as well, so go read them and leave all the reviews! The rest of the song is my own stuff. It’s also the first I’ve recorded with my new mic so I hope the buzz is slightly less!

If you like this song, check out my other 2 Steven Universe fansongs!


Lyrics (cut because it’s very wordy):

He’s on the warp pad, in the fridge, he’s on the couch, he’s on the ladder

He’s outside, inside, on the roof, floor, television, kitchen counter

He’s crawling everywhere, and Garnet’s got to keep her wits about her - her future vision’s going wild…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

In religion class (catholic Irish school), my first class and my first meeting with my teacher was walking into class to find him standing on the desks. He's over 6'7", and on a table he absolutely towered over us. We all sat down and there was silence, until the first thing he said. "in religion class we ponder a lot of mysterious things," - he pointed to a water bottle on a ceiling rafter he could see from his height - "and how the FUCK that bottle got there is one of them."

True mysteries