butterfly bottle

Even royalty needs a vacation!

My friend was doing some Butterfly family beach comics on Instagram and I couldn’t resist.

Also, thanks for the 3.2k+ followers. Literally a week before, I had 1.8k! So, thanks so much for the continued support. :>

I have a few photos of this lady I’ll be sharing a few posts.

I love the fishnets and the fluffy coat and the earth nude tones to the whole look. It’s perfect for LIB.

Lightning in a Bottle, 2017

Butterflies - Fred Weasley

Requested by anonymous. This is one of my first Fred fics in so long!!

Your apartment door swung open with a creak, as you walked into the dimly lit kitchen. You placed your grocery bags down on the counter before sitting down on one of the stools. Fred was most likely still in the shop, considering that you could hear some of the firecrackers going off underneath. 

Fred and you had plans to get dinner after work, so you decided to finish up some of your paperwork before you had to go. Grabbing your briefcase, you opened it up to finish some of your files. Working in the ministry meant that you always had at least something to do, and today it was filling in information about magical creatures that had been recently discovered. 

The door creaked open again and Fred and George both walked in. Fred came over to kiss you, and then George kissed your forehead.

“Hello, darling,” Fred said, sitting next to you, touching your knee softly. You smiled at him and then looked back at George. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, spinning you back to face him. 

“Yeah?” He nodded and looked behind you at George. When you turned around, George was smiling too. “Are you pregnant?” you asked. They both laughed.

“No,” Fred said. “You aren’t either, are you?” 

“No, baby,” you said, shaking your head. Fred let out a sigh, and George walked over so you could face them both.

“Okay, so you know we’ve been working a lot of overtime lately, and that’s because we’ve been working on a new product.”

“Ooh,” you said, scooting a little closer to him. 

“Actually we’ve been working on two,” George said. “But I don’t think you’d be interested in a taffy that makes you talk in a different dialect based on what flavor you choose.”

“You made that?”

“Yes, but we’ll try it later. I don’t want you to be talking to me in a German accent all night.” You laughed and touched his knee. 

“Okay, so what did you make?”

“A product that I based off of you.”

“Of me?” you asked, looking between the two boys to make sure they weren’t joking. Both of their faces remained serious, so you went back to focusing on Fred. 

“Yes, well, you know how I’m crazy about you,” he said, smiling at you widely.

“Yes, the wedding ring on my finger gave some clue to that.” 

“Right,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Well, I’m crazy about you, and I wanted to create a product that made people feel how I feel when I’m around you.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him. 

“Hey, I came up with the product, too,” George said. You looked up at him and waved him over, before kissing his cheek. 

“Okay, so show me what it is,” you said. Fred nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a little purple vial. He handed it to you, and you read the name on the bottle. 

“Butterfly juice?”

“The name is still in the making,” he said, blushing ever so slightly. You touched his cheek softly, and then look down at the vial again.

“So what does it do?”

“It gives you butterflies in your stomach,” George said. You giggled and looked at Fred.

“You are a nerd,” you said. He laughed and ran his hand through his hair nervously again. “Can I take some?”

“You’re not pregnant right?” George asked. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“No, we’ve covered that.”

“Then take it,” Fred said. You nodded and took a drink of the vial. It tickled as it slid down your throat, and you could feel it the second it hit your stomach. When it did, it felt like actual butterflies were flying around. It made you laugh, and you felt a little nervous, but mostly happy. 

“Oh my god,” you said. 

“How does it feel? Like the real thing?”

“Yes,” you said, touching your stomach. “Is this really how I make you feel? Even now?”

“Of course,” he said. You smiled and pulled him in for another kiss. 

“I love you,” you said. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he held onto your waist, pulling you into his lap. “George-”

“I love you, too,” he said, touching your shoulder. 

“Actually,” you said, pulling away from Fred for a minute. “I was gonna ask you to leave so I could make out with your brother.” 

“Yeah, beat it, Georgie,” Fred said, situating you better onto his lap, holding your ass. You winked at George as he walked towards the door, before going back to kiss the more handsome twin. (At least in your opinion.)

“You think we should bring some of this butterfly stuff into our room?” you asked, wagging your eyebrows at him. He smiled and picked you up, grabbing the little vial. 

“Most definitely,” he said, kissing you again.

“We’re not going to dinner, are we?”

“No, not yet.” You beamed and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him as he carried you back to your bedroom.

“You’re the most amazing husband. Thank you for the butterfly juice, even if it has a terrible name.” He laughed as he laid you down on the bed.

“You’re welcome. Don’t worry we’ll work on the name. Essence of Y/N? ” he asked, kissing you quickly. “Y/N juice?”

“Shut up,” you said, smacking his arm. “Those are all awful.”

“I know, you’re right.”

“Just kiss me.”

“Sounds good,” he said with a smile, bringing his lips back to yours.


Goals. Simple, sexy, classic.

Coachella, 2017, Weekend 1

a mouthful of the moon / unmoved, the ocean; in the stubborn stagnancy of this universe, where he and i lace rain clouds on our ceilings to feel the same thing at the same time. unwavering harmony in the way by which we reach for the other’s hand / touch me, touch you- body to body- caught in a dance neither of us knows, but oh god it feels good to taste my strawberry mouth, in his. 

he gives me the sky in pieces, and i hold it under where my words go at night. there’s a book with his name on my nightstand, with pages to swallow for when it gets dark inside me; sometimes we make paper planes from it, and send them to each other.

he talks about the stars as i lay there half asleep smiling, and he weaving forget me nots in my hair; that night i dream of poetry on the walls of the louvre, and the residue of marble on our hands / the words are always the same- running out. 

rather uneventful in our being- we catch butterflies in old wine bottles and tell them stories about how we met / he’s the wolf with flowers in his mouth, and i a falling angel in his lap; we sleep holding the noose to another universe, where the human versions of us, live and die together, by drowning. 

everything is love / everything is beautiful, and we are in the middle of it all, laughing- gentle, and sweet, and soft, and finally together, and finally happy. 


all for the name of poetry

now we mask ourselves
behind bandanas, scarves,
avatars of those
who wrote before us

we march with baseball
bats, butterfly knives,
liquor bottles
gasoline gallons

we find and hide those
with falsified ears,
beaten hearts,
ken souls

we stomp windshields
we shatter store fronts
we flip cop cars, spill gas,
drop a lighter
run like fuck-all

car after car
boom after boom

we are on top
of the last cars
in the city in a sea
of itchy semi-auto blue

we sprout
rose, carnation,
palm bouquet grenades
we all stare
everyone is too afraid
to pop the first shot
or lob the first thought

throw us out of
the Republic gates
we will ram words
until your walls

lie to us
all you want

we will riot Truth
& upload it
to Youtube

so make your move

NnT Ship Week Day 3

Title: Red and White, Rain and Chamomile

Prompt: Warmth

Pairing: Ban x Elaine

A/N: And the lamest title award goes to…

It was a cold morning that day. The marble floor felt like smooth ice under her feet and the chilly air hung around her like mist. Their home is illuminated by the soft light coming from the outside and the only sounds that could be heard are her quiet footsteps and the raindrops that hit their windows. Rather than annoying, she found it to be peaceful.

She heated some water and grabbed a couple of mugs from the cabinet as well as two teabags of chamomile tea. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned backward on the counter.

Elaine sighed blissfully as she looked to her right, their bedroom. Ban is still sprawled on their shared bed like a starfish, their beige duvet barely covering him. She was thankful that she forced him into a t-shirt at the very least since he has this habit of sleeping shirtless, and it’s definitely not the way to go when it’s been raining heavily these past few days.

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