itcanprobablysmellfear

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

Bringing country back 😌

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

i wish all trans girls a very kissed on the face by someone they love

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

jane austen really just repeatedly said “the sexiest thing a man can be is kind, selfless, attentive and honest about his feelings” and, as always, she was correct every single time

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

Mirrors Do Not Make Promises

The evil-queen-to-be looked into the magic mirror and asked: “Am I beautiful?”

The mirror had not been addressed in many years, hanging like an island in the center of the iron chamber. The curtain was gone though. The room smelled of dust. There was light somewhere, oh lords, there was light.

The mirror, a phantom outline on the surface, peered down. A girl stood, hooked nose, thin lips, dark hair the texture of crow’s feathers, and ruddy skin– both too pale and flushed all at once. Teeth like overlapping piano keys and body gangly as a newborn calf. She wore the finest gown of deep purple, heavy and dragging on the dirty floor.

Her chin wobbled. She had a determined set to her gaze, but her cheeks were tear-stained, and eyes as red as daybreak, at least the types of daybreak the mirror could still remember. The mirror tilted her head.

“Am I beautiful?!” the girl repeated and stomped her foot this time, pinpricks of tears spilling out. There was a purpling welt across her right cheek, a bruise forming with a tinted yellow edge. She must be an island as well.

The mirror closed her eyes. She nodded. “You will be. You have been. You are.”

The girl’s eyes went large as entire skies, at least, the type of skies the mirror could still remember. “Promise?” It was a child’s whisper.

“I do not make promises,” the mirror replied, and the girl huffed.

“Fine.” The curtain returned.

———————-

“Am I beautiful?”

The evil-queen-to-be was taller now, growing into herself. Her hollow cheeks had rounded, and teeth slowly straightened out through small spells and larger ones. The mirror had felt when she found that little black book, a moldy, stained thing, fleshy and dank. The mirror did not always spread her awareness out into the lives of men, but there was no ignoring the tremor through the air that night.

“Did you hear me?” The girl had returned, on the cusp of forgoing shorter hems and growing into the adult ones.

The mirror hummed. “You again. My girl.”

“You again, my mirror.” The girl sneered. She narrowed her eyes. “Do you even have a name?”

“No.” The mirror responded. “Do you?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I suppose you do not hear them yelling it through the hallways, Esme! Esme! Foolish, tricky girl.”

“I do not hear them. No.”

The girl blinked several times. “Oh.”

“Esme.” The mirror tried out the name.

“You may call me Lady Esme.” She sniffed loudly and crossed her arms. “I’m nobility.”

“Of course, my lady.” The mirror inclined her head. “Ask your question then.”

The girl considered her for a long moment. “Am I beautiful?”

“Have you not asked before?”

The girl flushed a deep red and glared at her shoes. “You’re just like everyone else.” She twisted in place to leave.

“Of course,” the mirror murmured. “You are beautiful.”

Esme glanced shyly over her shoulder. “Really? You promise?”

“I do not make promises.”

The door slammed, but the curtain did not return.

——————–

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” the young woman sang and skipped. “Who should I poison at the ball?” She carried a flower and small book tucked away at her side. The mirror had watched her fill the book with cramped tiny handwriting, coded through a complex numerology.

It was filled with the secrets of the tomes she unearthed and more she made herself. “Mirror, mirror on the wall,” she kept singing. “Who should I poison with my comb?”

“You jest.” The mirror spoke slowly. “But if you must poison one, poison the only son of the Duke of Engles. He plans to bed a scullery maid and will not be easily deterred by no.”

The evil-queen-to-be stopped in place and faced the mirror. Her clever face and clever eyes were cold and sharp. She was older now. “Noted,” she said thoughtfully and plucked at the flower in her hand. She lifted her chin up high, “this will be my first showing.”

“I know.” The mirror replied. “You will dance and make merry. Be careful of the wine, my lady.”

“How do you know so much?” Esme squinted and leaned forward. “What exactly do you know?”

“I know everything reflected in the world of men and more.” The mirror said and watched the light fall across the floor. She still wasn’t facing the window, and how her chest ached for it.

“But how?” Esme insisted.

“I am old,” she stated simply.

Esme rolled her eyes. “Well, I could have guessed that.”

“But ageless. Time cannot touch me, nor can I touch it. But I can peer through its many threads into the greater tapestry.”

Esme tilted her head thoughtfully, mind at work. “So,” she said with a cat-like smirk. “I really will be beautiful.”

“You are. You have been. You will be.”

Esme went blank for a moment before turning in place. “I must prepare for my debut on the market.” She sprouted an edged grin and looked over her shoulder. “And who should I marry there, my mirror?”

The mirror did not blink. “The king.”

Esme’s eyes lost their mischief, she frowned, and closed the door softly.

—————

“They’ll burn me, they’ll burn me!” Esme cried and paced back and forth. She was still wearing a luscious green gown with bell-shaped sleeves. It was torn in places, sullied. “Dammit, they know!’

Keep reading

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

by decree of fire lord Zuko, first of his name, son of lady ursa, and prince Iroh, the burned, the phoenix prince, the aggressiv peaceful, bender of the colourful flames and wielder of the dual swords (if you know what i mean), master jerk-bender, the blue spirit, your friend lee with the good cup of tea, tea server during the weekend at the jasmine dragon open from 7:30 am to 7:00 pm from Monday till Sunday, ginseng 50% off and every 10th cup of tea free what a steal, daily heart attack for the kyoshi warriors, defeater of sleep, most comfortable living heater according to the avatar and his allies, best ichy spots scratcher; herby declares!

that if this post is granted 1000 notes, he permits princess Izumi first of her name, born under the south star, the peaceful, the sun drop, the sun flake, the soft wind, the gentle fire hazard, mini sparky, the living sunrise; to rise and keep lily pad frogs in the pond next to the turtledecks!

-approved and sealed

by fire lord zuko.

---

Sokka and suki are supposed to help him keep the fire nation in check. not teaching his daughter argumentation tactics and how to formulate contracts!

Sokka arguments that they are raising the future fire lord so technically "we are we are working ahead of schedule!" btw the lily pad frogs in question

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

He said:

💪🏻(   ).(   ) 

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

Sometimes stupid is funnier.

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

I’d like to know what the first person to put human clothing on a dog was thinking

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

doing my damnedest to free myself of the “just gotta get through this week” “only x more days til the weekend” mindset & learn to appreciate each day for whatever it is lest i be driven to madness

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

"this takes a while to come out. don't worry, I did too"

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

this is extremely important for everyone to understand

[itcanprobablysmellfear]

aren’t we all just trying to be morticia addams just a little bit