breakfastteatime
breakfastteatime
Breakfast Tea Time
9K posts
Breakfast Tea and Fanfiction - The Perfect Start to Your Day! She/her Asexual ^_^
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breakfastteatime · 1 hour ago
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If I hide behind his head, no one will see me (★‿★)
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breakfastteatime · 3 hours ago
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“Anyway, can all the Force-wielders aboard please focus on what really matters?”
this week's word is...
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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.
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breakfastteatime · 5 hours ago
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LOL but seriously release the hounds
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breakfastteatime · 22 hours ago
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pigeon beats
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breakfastteatime · 1 day ago
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Just saw a post asking how tall people are and now I want to make it a poll. Apologies to people in the fringe height categories, you do not get specifics.
I had to consult a chart for this
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breakfastteatime · 1 day ago
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As a swimmer I would say his technique is, uh, not the best? His kick is pretty inefficient and he could make better use of gliding.
Someone should give Cal swimming lessons. Anytime I see him swim I just stare in despair
(Also your art is great!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDD)
i don't know enough about swimming to know what's wrong with his swimming but NONETHELESS if someone can escape FORTRESS INQUISITORIUS by swimming from THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN with A STAB WOUND and only HALF AN OXYGEN AND A LOT OF STUBBORNNESS i personally consider them the bestest swimmer ever
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breakfastteatime · 1 day ago
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Sometimes you just have to clean your bathroom when other people to put their incompetence on you...
...after you've made a point of showing them you're right and they're wrong of course...
(✿◡‿◡)
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breakfastteatime · 1 day ago
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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Yeah, I have an ice pack in my bed because it's 25C/77F in my bedroom 👍
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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my new bird is a monet painting
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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I miss them
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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breakfastteatime · 2 days ago
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fireflies lighting up a rural Pennsylvania field at dusk
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breakfastteatime · 3 days ago
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breakfastteatime · 3 days ago
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(The world feels a bit scarier today, so please enjoy a preview of something I'm working on ^_^ First draft, so the final product may vary 😉)
Moonlight reveals Cere’s path. She moves quickly through a misty night, damp air mapping her clothes to her skin and her hair to her scalp. Bogano is no longer the safe haven it once was. Despite Trilla’s death and the subsequent destruction of the holocron, the Empire have not abandoned this empty world. Patrols continue night and day, the Zeffonian ruins now dominated by Imperial bases. What they hope to find here remains Cere’s concern, which is why she is racing across the planet’s pockmarked surface, dodging stormtroopers and oggdos alike, to her old master’s hideouts. BD sits on her back, directing here as necessary. Her mission must be swift; they cannot stay here long. They are in no condition for a fight against the Empire, not now, not anytime soon. But there are things on Bogano she cannot bear to leave here, things Cal noted on his explorations. Journals. Sketches. She’ll grab what she can throw in her bag and retreat to the Mantis.
She reaches a central area, and BD tells her this was Cordova’s main area. He guides her to Cordova’s sketches, his journals and logs, and reminds her to watch out for bog rats.
“Don’t attack anything by yourself,” she tells him as they slip into Cordova’s old bedroom and Cere grabs an old data pad from beside the bed. She gathers everything she can without bothering to read through it. She doesn’t have time to be choosy. It’s grab and go. “Cal will be very upset with me if I let you get hurt.”
BD warbles sadly.
“I know,” she says. “But he’s doing better than he was a few days ago. He’ll be –”
Cere falls silent. BD freezes. Footsteps, coming from above, followed quickly by muted conversation. They share a look and Cere nods to the shadows, stepping back and allowing them to swallow her.
“Why do we even bother with these patrols?” The stormtrooper’s voice is distorted but it does nothing to disguise his blatant boredom. “There’s nothing here but bugs.”
“And those little fluffy guys,” his colleague says with distinct delight in his distorted voice. “What are they called? Boglings? I’d like to take one home, keep it as a pet.”
“Sure, and then it bites you and your arm falls off.”
The cheerier trooper sighs. “You really know how to ruin a good mood.”
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