#bed shenanigans

[dumplingaisimmer-blog]

Update: Daisä doesn’t mind sharing a bed but some nights the boys don’t wanna disturb her when they come to bed, so they just... trade beds.

Basically that @jewels-and-medicine

[scrumptious-scruglarbus]

Do people still like put pillows under their blankets while its horizontally standing so you have a makeshift wall or a little fort for yourself (to defend yourself from the monsters ofc)

[primechicagowizard]

@amcracchius

He must have slept for a notable while, plagued with the sort of dreams that contained an uncomfortable amount of truth. Weren’t those the worst kind? The mind itself would never be able to replicate anything fantastical enough to counter the grotesque discomfort reality itself produced, at least not without taking some secondary influence from those horrors life offered. So the mind had allllll sorts of possibilities to work with. Nightmares were one challenge that waking could slay. Reality was harder to escape from. 

When finally he awoke, his body, somehow sensing the next course of action, loudly rejected the prospect of moving. So he didn’t for a time. He lay right where he was, giving himself time to gradually emerge into the world that waited for him. Uh, in whatever way that might be. In his drowsy state, he couldn’t even be bothered to consider how much work he had on his itinerary. 

He might have slipped back off to sleep had there not been something else there---

Something he felt he should remember but couldn’t immediately bring to mind. Like it teetered at the edge of his tongue threatening to fall off the edge but not without that one final push.

Somewhere, deep within his chest, a fire burned; flickering with hatred and smoking with guilt. It rose slowly to the surface of his mind in black clouds as he was freed of the near narcotic influence of sleep. Numbing pangs of pain leaked through the previously impenetrable wall he’d mentally constructed, tugging at the corners of his sanity and earning a sharp groan from the wizard.

His breath hitched and he became aware of another.

“Michael?” There beside him. On a bed? A blanket? On the ground, he couldn’t even tell outside of his confusion - that expected condition that always rose after resting, where the mind tried to piece together facts before it was fully revived.

He pushed himself upright, impressions of the uneven surface marring his skin where they had been pressed against him, stuck tight during his unconscious slumber. He must have been prone all night, unmoving, favoring one leg over the other as it seemed all the blood had been squeezed from the limb that he’d laid on that entire length of time, extremely painful pinpricks stabbing at the bottom of his foot as feeling gradually - but irritably slow - came back into it.

He turned back to his friend, resisting the urge to wake him. As much as he wished for some clarity to what had happened there, being forcibly pulled back into awareness was hardly a pleasurable experience. Instead, he checked to ensure that he was breathing, that there wasn’t anything immediately foul or amiss that he should be concerned about, and gave him time to come awake on his own.

[goldenboysanada]

I'd force feed you candy.

"No, Miki. Just no. You know what that thing does to me."

[goldenboysanada]

Start beating you with a trout.

"Why a trout of all things?"

[goldenboysanada]

I would do so many unspeakable things Aki. More than likely against your will, I don't think you'd be too thrilled about it :'D

"...I suppose let's leave it that."