#full breakfast

[derkabobhall]

Bon appetit. (London 2023)

[vegehana-food]

✿ フル・ブレックファスト | Full Breakfast ・イギリスの伝統的な朝ごはん。内容は卵、トースト、豆、ブラックプディング(イギリスのソーセージ)などが定番です。もともとは貴族の食事だったのが、産業革命時代に労働者向けに提供され、広く定着していったそう。

[dasistleeway]

Hearty breakfast...

[an-established-butt-dent]

I'm a bald Solas lover I swear!!!!

—> Process video under the cut because of flash warning.

[cynicallyneutral]

Go accla!!!!

[violent138]

The Batkids buy food for each other to circumvent having to apologize. Usually it works, with mutual nods or a question about whether [pickle/extra sauce/specificity] was included. And when it fails you best believe the sibling who messed up chases down the other to somehow force the food onto them and extract an apology. I'm talking city wide chases where Red Hood's bazooka-ing pancakes at a sibling (Condiment King tries to get in on it and gets smacked down for his troubles). Robin sends Red Robin crashing into a Red Robin joint because he's sorry. Or Spoiler being taken out of commission when Batgirl accidentally smacks her in the face with a takeout bag to apologize for knocking her out.

[lidoshka]

@feanorianweek #3 Celegorm - waves

Having Aredhel was like having a sister throughout their childhood.

+

@feanorianweek #3 Celegorm - olas

Tener a Aredhel era como tener una hermana durante toda su infancia.

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol

Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol

Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha

Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do

---

It lived beneath his skin.

For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.

It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.

It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.

A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.

Except.

Except.

Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

Lived.

Not existed. Not contained. Lived.

He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.

He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.

It lived beneath his skin.

Until it didn’t.

He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.

He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.

To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.

He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.

He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.

It had been different, recently.

His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.

He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.

In the dream, he was in a room.

Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.

The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.

In the dream he felt like he was dying.

In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.

That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.

He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.

Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.

He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.

It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.

He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.

She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.

Or JL light, for that matter.

Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.

A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -

He tried not to think about the or.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.

The world burned back to life in sharp relief.

The dream.

The room.

Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.

It looked larger on the screen.

Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.

She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -

Looking at him.

The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.

But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

She lived beneath his skin.

He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.

Not as felt as she used to be.

The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.

It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.

Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:

Run.

Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.

All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.

They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.

Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.

The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.

[thelailasblog]

[coolthingsguyslike]

[softhe4rted]

on loneliness jenny slate / japanese breakfast, posing for cars / corinne von lebusa, big glow / dadushin / alejandra pizarnik, tr. me / fka twings, home with you / avocado_ibuprofen / fiona apple, left alone / anne carson, “the anthropology of water”, plainwater / kiki smith, free fall / alejandra pizarnik, diaries

[mysteriesmuse]

Princess Reader x Royal Guard Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugou Katsuki’s job is literally to stand by you day and night. You promoted him to being your personal guard and now he follows you around the castle like a dog. Katsuki thought he would hate it. Thought he would have to do something to get himself fired. Something that would make you dislike him because everytime he was around you his skin definitely felt red hot and he had a slight nauseating sensation in his stomach. It’s only when steam started pouring out his ears with him clenching his teeth and palms that he was able to pinpoint that feeling. Oh yes that previous feeling was jealously and Katsuki Bakugou apparently didn’t hate you. Because he really felt jealous about this stupid suitor that was attempting to woo you. He liked you. He had a crush on the princess he was in charge of protecting with his life. Not that, that would change. But now he had a reason to get to know you more. To make the same impression that the other elite guards made with small talk that put you at ease during any shift changes.

BECOME THE BEST GUARD IN THE CASTLE: CHECK

MAKE SMALL TALK & GET IN GOOD GRACES WITH THE PRINCESS: IN PROGRESS

WOO THE PRINCESS: ??? So Katsuki really freaking struggled with small talk. Plus, I mean the guy knows practically everything about you. How is he supposed to make small talk if he can’t just ask the questions? Trick question he still can. In reality he doesn’t really have to. He’s supposed to be a rather stoic and sentient figurine that guards you. His first few attempts were meet with startled eyes and strange looks for the next few weeks. You’re known to be fairly cordial and friendly with the guards, but his reputation proceeded him. Big Scary Guard Dog Bakugou. That’s who you were told was your new guard. And that’s what you expected for the most part. A quiet guy who may or may not be a piece of eye candy following you around like a shadow. Oh boy, were you wrong. He was definitely a piece of eye candy. Actually he was the piece of eye candy that was apart of your elite protection group. A very silent man Bakugou. And after the first couple of weeks of him assigned as you personal guard your opinion on that changed. Bakugou grunts out a G’mornin’ and a G’night to you every day. Almost looks strained, but it’s pleasant nonetheless. And he’s incredibly observant too. You catch him in the hall to your corridors arguing with a servant about the bouquet of flowers she’s attempting to bring in to replace the last bouquet on your writing desk. “Shitty - ahem - her majesty prefers another variety of flower. Go back and procure some of the blue snowball looking ones.” After that you noticed that the vase continually held varieties of flowers that you’d complimented on in the royal gardens. And from then on your awkward guard/royalty relationship bloomed like a hillside. A cascading flurry of one beautiful thing after another. ——— When you’re cozied up in the quiet royal library to enjoy a good book you pause and peek over the top of the novel in your lap. Almost out of curiosity or disbelief that Bakugou is the one asking a question. He blinks out of genuine curiosity and you open your mouth and start to turn the book around so that he can see the words of the story you’re gesturing at. He gets you to go on and on that way. Nothing but a few affirmational vocals from him that he’s still listening. And he loves watching your expressions almost more than when you insist that he do something. Read his own book, after all it is a library. He dismisses it all. And yes your highness he can read and write just fine. This is just his job. Well not the secretly pinning over you while you read, but the watching part. And He learns that you actually know a lot more about kingdom politics than he previously gave you credit for. You’re smoothing over diplomatic matters with a carefully inked letter and secretly keeping promises about exports and materials your kingdom has pledged.

All while you sit and hum at your writing desk. The way you gently tease off your shoes with your toes at the heels when you’ve decided you’re going to be in for a long while. And Katsuki knows then that you’ll idly wave for him to sit instead of standing at his post the whole while. Except he starts to develop the nasty happen of staring and when you catch him looking he’ll chose between grumbling and turning away as his ears turn pink or blink unyielding and say “just doing my job, princess”

Katsuki likes the suave of the second one, but it really ends up being 50/50 with it. ————

But 100% of the time your strolls through the royal garden have him itching to take some armor off as the sunny warmth makes him sweat buckets underneath the layers of his uniform. Not to mention you walking this close already has his skin hot enough. The way you walk shoulder to shoulder just has him practically drooling at the thought of holding your hand. - Exhibits extreme self-control every stroll. Oh and when the fruit and vegetables are ready to be harvested you like to take teasing strolls into the royal orchards and gardens to taste the first ripe fruit of the season. Always curtesying as you point and ask him to grab a mandarin, or plum, or peach, or nectarine, or lemon, or apple, or whatever it is. And you’ve usually tried just before hand. On you tip-toes waggling your decorated fingers into the air. The sunlight bouncing off your jewels that adorn your skin and cascade daggers of rainbowed light upon your face. And it’s always just out of reach. A fresh shiny pout on your face when you turn and ask him to pluck one. And Katsuki usually just has to stand and put his arm up to grab one as you patiently wait and watch. But you’re admiring him just as much as he admired you. Staring up at his chiseled jawline. The wheaty stubble that decorates his face. You long to feel it prickle underneath your fingertips. Wonder how it would feel tickling the edges of your kiss when you finally set your mouth against his plush lips. You admire his impeccable physique. His staggering size as he barely stretches his shoulder to reach the fruit. And the way his golden tan glistens underneath the dappled light of the sun; glistens from the profuse sweat elicited from his layers and layers of chainmail and armor. All brushing over his adams apple before he gulps and turned to hand it to you. And Katsuki loves to hold it in his palm in the way that you have to pick it up. Feel your fingers gently prod and caress the skin of his palm as you turn the fruit over. Mulling over its quality before wordlessly holding it back out. He huffs and grabs the fruit as you take him to the stone wall. You sit and pull out a handkerchief from between your breasts if he’s not swift enough in supplying you with his. And Katsuki will grab his dagger and slice up the fruit, setting the pieces down onto the handkerchief before you plop one into your mouth. His hands will still and his eyes flick to your face watching as you chew and make a satisfied moan. The rest of your stroll will include these snack breaks. Taking “samples” as you call them of the seasons fruit. And the royal gardners have since decided to ignore the two figurines of their princess and the royal guardsmen sitting on the stone walls chattering and pressing handkerchiefs into sticky thieving fingers. ————

In the royal kitchens he accompanies you as you excitedly follow behind a kitchen maid who’s sent for you to do a testing of the new desserts the chef has been working on. Despite your official look of composure he knows that you’re excited by the little bounce in your hair from your steps. Katsuki always clunks down to the table when you beckon him to sit. Frantically patting the chair next to you after he’s been a right gentleman and pushed your chair in. You always think he looks rather scared with the way his carmine eyes dart around the empty dinning hall before the procession of maids and chef come out into the hall and display a plethora of desserts in front of you. They always wave you on with glee before retreating to the kitchen to finish the next batch. Your mouth practically waters as you pick up your fork and spear the perfect first bite. Only to turn to Katsuki with your other hand under the utensil holding it up to his plush pink lips which immediately turn into a defensive scowl. You’re always muttering something about your safety to “taste test for me? Make sure there’s nothing poisoned?” Except Katsuki’s never been sure that’s your real agenda here because you always gently spoon the first bite of your special taste testing into his mouth and if its something chocolate it always taste like Heaven despite it being a brand new recipe. (You’ve got the best chocolatier in the kingdom) and he always a little groan slip out. His face melting as he chews and swallows. (he’s going to be doing a lot more of that)

Before he nods muttering it’s safe. Not that your food would be poisoned because the staff and kingdom are all pretty loyal here and him and the elite guards are way to fricken scary to have on your tail. But he humors you anyway because technically that’s protecting and you’re right it’s in his job description. And then you, without changing forks, without doing anything else immediately set the fork he just used between your own lips and lick off the icing residue between your pink lips and hum before taking a real first bite yourself. And you do it all while maintaining perfect eye contact with him. And he can feel blood rushing to weird places all over his body. And it goes on like this for every single plate they offer. HAVE THE PRINCESS FLIRT WITH YOU: yes? maybe ?? At this rate he’s not sure why the kitchen staff haven’t mandated you with a royal poison taste tester with your insistence of him having a bite of every one of your plates. Seriously what are these people thinking! They’re thinking that there’s some real true love blooming in the castle and who are they to get in the way! Plus, it’s a good practice for any wedding cake samples they do in the future. Of course they won’t ever tell y’all whose wedding they’re preparing to cater. ———— While you delight in that. Katsuki delights in nothing more than your dance lessons. He likes to watch you glide, or try to, across the floor with every step. Definitely feels a weird blooming of secondhand pride when you practice a new step a few times and smooth it out with practice. Overall he finds it very peaceful and relaxing watching you laugh and groan and be belittled by this ancient teacher they have for you. Stands at the door tapping his toe in his boot to the beat. When this ancient woman that he just loves comes over and insists that he mustn’t “just stand there and look handsome. Make yourself useful she needs a partner” which always causes your head to swivel like a chicken as he detaches a few layers of pure metal off his body to make the dancing “easier and more realistic for her highness”

So now he gets to stand bare of any occluding armor and he can feel your e/c gaze washing over his body and the ripping muscles that he’s always had hidden under that armor. Adores the chance to hold you in his arms and practice doing the steps that you’re working on. And he’s attended enough of these things and the balls to be able to pick up on his part pretty quickly. Katsuki, not to toot his own horn because he would never, has to say he’s pretty darn good at dancing. Stupidly good for a royal guard which he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be clunky and clumsy, but as soon as the armor is off he’s as graceful as any one of the princes or dukes you’ve danced with ball after ball and gala after gala. He’s humongous. Practically a head taller than you and his shoulders are stupidly wide and it’s like you’re in a cocoon of just him. His stupid minty breath whenever he’s mumbling something snarky or whispering the counts just loud enough for your teacher to know he’s actually helping. The flopping bangs that fall into his face whenever he needs to look down and see what your feet are doing. Usually because you’ve accidentally skipped a step or done something that messes with his leading because how can you not! Except this only fuels Bakugou’s ego more because he’s never seen you mess up with any partner at any of these balls you attend. The logical part of his brain says it’s because this is your dance room and you’re practicing. But the other hopeful part of his heart says it’s because maybe you’re flustered. Maybe you feel something too. And you definitely do. The oddly warm, but searing heat of his hand on the small of your back makes you stand up. His shoulder and bicep and forearm all a fluttering mass of muscle that languidly stretches and twitches underneath your arm. His meaty and calloused hand that holds yours, which is incredibly clamy except you’re not sure if it’s you or him! And your annoying dance teacher who constantly whacks your limbs and buttocks whenever you do something wrong, which only makes your guards impeccable poker face quirk into a smirk before she starts the music again. And unfortunately the old crone has caught on. Because your lessons after having danced with Katsuki are immensely improved. And your performance at balls is flawless at best, so she’s going to keep asking the young rugged handsome guard of yours to keep stepping in as your partner for dancing because he seems to be the only one where you actually have to work for that composure. ————

[yummyfoooooood]

English Breakfast - Bacon, Sausages, Mushrooms, Fried Egg, Baked Beans and Hash Browns

[bakaramia]

Something so special abt Vox who lives on energy drinks and protein bars gaining relationship weight when he starts dating Alastor who cooks for him all the time and insists on 3 square meals a day 🥺🥺.

[sleepnoises]

what i did on my vacation: walked 18 miles over three days (3->12->3), filtered water from creeks, read like 500k words of fanfiction on my phone, ate a reconstituted freeze dried creme brulee

[scavengedluxury]