gold envelopes

Euphoria

You were the weird girl in high school, the 5 year reunion was a disaster, and now it’s your ten year high school reunion. You planned on not going, but Pietro, your best friend, isn’t going to let you miss it and surprise your former classmates. At first he was just going to be your date, but now you’re pretending you’re happily married and have a kid, and you’re both enjoying your classmate’s dumbfounded faces. Only problem is, now you wish it were true.

Warning: sexual references/situations, language

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Words:  4,116

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High school renion

meeting again at a high school reunion au requested by @heyambrose

Hope everyone enjoys! it’s a quick little bit of Cesaro fluff

@thepalaceofmelanie @laochbaineann @banrioncethlenn @thepalaceofmelanie @fan-fiction-galore @dark-blueheart13

When the gold envelope showed up in your mail box, embossed with your high school mascot, there was only one thought that came to mind, Cesaro. You had been best friends in school, both a bit silly and sometimes picked on, you found solace in each other. You had loved him, but had never found the courage to say anything. After graduation he left to follow his dream of becoming a wrestler, you had headed off the college, then Med school. You had stayed in touch for a while, but as these things happen you grew apart as he traveled and wrestled and you buried yourself in books. Now maybe you would get to see him again. You quickly ripped open the envelope seeing the website where you could say if you were going. You could see the list of people that had already responded, no one you wanted to see. His name was not there. “Maybe he’s waiting to see if I go” you said to your cat “yeah right,” you stared at the screen, then hit yes. This might be your only chance.

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Please Don’t Make Me Say It | Rucas

#RucasFanfictionWeek2016: Day One
Prompt: Angst / “I got the first kiss and she’ll get the last”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at the gold envelope in my hands bracing myself for what was inside of it. I take a deep breath and break the seal. Inside is a beautiful and rather extravagant invitation that’s covered in lace and pearls. It reads:

Together with their families

Stella James & Lucas Friar

Request the honor of your presence

As they exchange their wedding vows

Saturday, October 16th 2028

Four o’clock in the evening

The W Hotel

New York City


I knew this was coming. Our mutual friends warned me it was happening but I never in a million years thought he’d actually send me a wedding invitation.

I read it over and over, burning the words into my brain. He’s getting married…to someone who isn’t me.

When we were teenagers in love we’d lie awake on the phone and talk about what our wedding would be like, in fact we talked about all sorts of things that never came true.

I pull out the RSVP card that was also included in the envelope and stare at the two options.

Will Attend With Pleasure

Must Decline With Regret


I scoff to myself. Ugh. How formal.
I make a face before pulling out my phone and dialing a number.

“There’s my girl!” Maya says as she answers the phone. “What’s up?”

“Oh you know just responding to Lucas’ wedding invitation…the usual.”

I hear a slight gasp come from the other end of the phone, “What?! He actually sent you one? Is he insane?”

“Evidently.” I say sarcastically, still staring at the card. “Do you think I should go?”

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saying your names
richard siken
saying your names

Saying Your Names

Chemical names, bird names, names of fire
and flight and snow, baby names, paint names,
delicate names like bones in the body,
Rumplestiltskin names that are always changing,
names that no one’s ever able to figure out.
Names of spells and names of hexes, names
cursed quietly under the breath, or called out
loudly to fill the yard, calling you inside again,
calling you home. Nicknames and pet names
and baroque French monikers, written in
shorthand, written in longhand, scrawled
illegibly in brown ink on the backs of yellowing
photographs, or embossed on envelopes lined
with gold. Names called out across the water,
names I called you behind your back,
sour and delicious, secret and unrepeatable,
the names of flowers that open only once,
shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops,
or muffled by pillows, or whispered in sleep,
or caught in the throat like a lump of meat.
I try, I do. I try and try. A happy ending?
Sure enough — Hello darling, welcome home.
I’ll call you darling, hold you tight. We are
not traitors but the lights go out. It’s dark.
Sweetheart, is that you? There are no tears,
no pictures of him squarely. A seaside framed
in glass, and boats, those little boats with
sails aflutter, shining lights upon the water,
lights that splinter when they hit the pier.
His voice on tape, his name on the envelope,
the soft sound of a body falling off a bridge
behind you, the body hardly even makes
a sound. The waters of the dead, a clear road,
every lover in the form of stars, the road
blocked. All night I stretched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.
Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me
like stars. Names of heat and names of light,
names of collision in the dark, on the side of the
bus, in the bark of the tree, in ballpoint pen
on jeans and hands and the backs of matchbooks
that then get lost. Names like pain cries, names
like tombstones, names forgotten and reinvented,
names forbidden or overused. Your name like
a song I sing to myself, your name like a box
where I keep my love, your name like a nest
in the tree of love, your name like a boat in the
sea of love — O now we’re in the sea of love!
Your name like detergent in the washing machine.
Your name like two X’s like punched-in eyes,
like a drunk cartoon passed out in the gutter,
your name with two X’s to mark the spots,
to hold the place, to keep the treasure from
becoming ever lost. I’m saying your name
in the grocery store, I’m saying your name on
the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal
covered with frost, your name like a music that’s
been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud,
a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails
in wind and the slap of waves on the hull
of a boat that’s sinking to the sound of mermaids
singing songs of love, and the tug of a simple
profound sadness when it sounds so far away.
Here is a map with a your name fora capital,
here is an arrow to prove a point: we laugh
and it pits the world against us, we laugh,
and we’ve got nothing left to lose, and our hearts
turn red, and the river rises like a barn on fire.
I came to tell you, we’ll swim in the water, we’ll
swim like something sparkling underneath
the waves. Our bodies shivering, and the sound
of our breathing, and the shore so far away.
I’ll use my body like a ladder, climbing
to the thing behind it, saying farewell to flesh,
farewell to everything caught underfoot
and flattened. Names of poisons, names of
handguns, names of places we’ve been
together, names of people we’d be together,
Names of endurance, names of devotion,
street names and place names and all the names
of our dark heaven crackling in their pan.
It’s a bed of straw, darling. It sure as shit is.
If there was one thing I could save from the fire,
he said, the broken arms of the sycamore,
the eucalyptus still trying to climb out of the yard —
your breath on my neck like a music that holds
my hands down, kisses as they burn their way
along my spine — or rain, our bodies wet,
clothes clinging arm to elbow, clothes clinging
nipple to groin — I’ll be right here. I’m waiting.

Say hallelujah, say goodnight, say it over
the canned music and your feet won’t stumble,
his face getting larger, the rest blurring
on every side. And angels, about twelve angels,
angels knocking on your head right now, hello
hello, a flash in the sky, would you like to
meet him there, in Heaven? Imagine a room,
a sudden glow. Here is my hand, my heart,
my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated
cities at the center of me, and here is the center
of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we
can drink from, but I can’t go through with it.
I just don’t want to die anymore.

Saying Your Names

Chemical names, bird names, names of fire
and flight and snow, baby names, paint names,
delicate names like bones in the body,
Rumplestiltskin names that are always changing,
names that no one’s ever able to figure out.
Names of spells and names of hexes, names
cursed quietly under the breath, or called out
loudly to fill the yard, calling you inside again,
calling you home. Nicknames and pet names
and baroque French monikers, written in
shorthand, written in longhand, scrawled
illegibly in brown ink on the backs of yellowing
photographs, or embossed on envelopes lined
with gold. Names called out across the water,
names I called you behind your back,
sour and delicious, secret and unrepeatable,
the names of flowers that open only once,
shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops,
or muffled by pillows, or whispered in sleep,
or caught in the throat like a lump of meat.
I try, I do. I try and try. A happy ending?
Sure enough — Hello darling, welcome home.
I’ll call you darling, hold you tight. We are
not traitors but the lights go out. It’s dark.
Sweetheart, is that you? There are no tears,
no pictures of him squarely. A seaside framed
in glass, and boats, those little boats with
sails aflutter, shining lights upon the water,
lights that splinter when they hit the pier.
His voice on tape, his name on the envelope,
the soft sound of a body falling off a bridge
behind you, the body hardly even makes
a sound. The waters of the dead, a clear road,
every lover in the form of stars, the road
blocked. All night I stretched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.
Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me
like stars. Names of heat and names of light,
names of collision in the dark, on the side of the
bus, in the bark of the tree, in ballpoint pen
on jeans and hands and the backs of matchbooks
that then get lost. Names like pain cries, names
like tombstones, names forgotten and reinvented,
names forbidden or overused. Your name like
a song I sing to myself, your name like a box
where I keep my love, your name like a nest
in the tree of love, your name like a boat in the
sea of love — O now we’re in the sea of love!
Your name like detergent in the washing machine.
Your name like two X’s like punched-in eyes,
like a drunk cartoon passed out in the gutter,
your name with two X’s to mark the spots,
to hold the place, to keep the treasure from
becoming ever lost. I’m saying your name
in the grocery store, I’m saying your name on
the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal
covered with frost, your name like a music that’s
been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud,
a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails
in wind and the slap of waves on the hull
of a boat that’s sinking to the sound of mermaids
singing songs of love, and the tug of a simple
profound sadness when it sounds so far away.
Here is a map with a your name for a capital,
here is an arrow to prove a point: we laugh
and it pits the world against us, we laugh,
and we’ve got nothing left to lose, and our hearts
turn red, and the river rises like a barn on fire.
I came to tell you, we’ll swim in the water, we’ll
swim like something sparkling underneath
the waves. Our bodies shivering, and the sound
of our breathing, and the shore so far away.
I’ll use my body like a ladder, climbing
to the thing behind it, saying farewell to flesh,
farewell to everything caught underfoot
and flattened. Names of poisons, names of
handguns, names of places we’ve been
together, names of people we’d be together,
Names of endurance, names of devotion,
street names and place names and all the names
of our dark heaven crackling in their pan.
It’s a bed of straw, darling. It sure as shit is.
If there was one thing I could save from the fire,
he said, the broken arms of the sycamore,
the eucalyptus still trying to climb out of the yard —
your breath on my neck like a music that holds
my hands down, kisses as they burn their way
along my spine — or rain, our bodies wet,
clothes clinging arm to elbow, clothes clinging
nipple to groin — I’ll be right here. I’m waiting.

Say hallelujah, say goodnight, say it over
the canned music and your feet won’t stumble,
his face getting larger, the rest blurring
on every side. And angels, about twelve angels,
angels knocking on your head right now, hello
hello, a flash in the sky, would you like to
meet him there, in Heaven? Imagine a room,
a sudden glow. Here is my hand, my heart,
my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated
cities at the center of me, and here is the center
of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we
can drink from, but I can’t go through with it.
I just don’t want to die anymore.

– richard siken

The Big Reasons I'm Sad About the End of Top Gear

-I’m going to miss the Lads and The Dynamic
-going to miss James’ hair
-miss Jeremy’s wheezy smoker laugh
-miss Richard’s diabolical cackle
- “oh, cock.”
-“pleeeeeeaaassse!!”
-“Crikey, it’s the ________ rozzers!”
- “It’s NOT the Stig! It’s the Stig’s ______ cousin!”
- “As you’d expect, I’ve done this properly.”
- Richard and his Porsches
-Jeremy and his Mercedes
- James and his Dacia Sanderos
- gold envelopes
- Gentleman’s relish?
- The long expected Porsche 918 Spyder vs. Mclaren P1 vs. Ferrari La Ferrari
- Jessica
- “And on that bombshell…”

DIY: Gold Envelope Edge

This easy DIY paint project will transform regular envelopes into something extraordinarily fancy!

You will need:

- Metallic spray paint

- Double stick tape

- Envelopes, of course

STEP 1

Grab an envelope to use as the mask, and just put a small piece of tape at the point and at each side of the envelope underneath. Just enough to secure the mask so when sprayed, the edge stays put. You can make the edge as wide or short as you want.

Step 2

In a well-ventilated area (like outside), spray a light coating over the edge.  Let it dry for just 20 seconds or so.

Step 3

Then carefully peel the mask envelope off and voila! A perfect glowing, gold edge!

Hallow’s Eve Masquerade Ball

Several cloaked men, black in dress, departed from the Winters estate. Each one sent to deliver the black envelopes with gold script upon it. The wax seal remained unbroken as it was placed on the door steps and alerted of it’s presence with a single knock. 

An invitation remained inside the envelope, delicately crafted: 

“You are cordially invited to the first annual Wolves of Winter Hallow’s Eve Masquerade Ball. On the twenty second of October at seven in the evening in the Karazhan Crypts. Please join us for cocktails, dancing, hor d’oeuvres and festivities while we honor holidays with our friends and families.”

When: October 22nd at 7 pm server ( WrA )

Where: Crypts below Karazhan

Who: Open to any and all who wish to attend. Cross faction welcome, but need your own translator. 

Calendar invites will be passed to those who desire them for ingame notice. Simply whisper Celestine, Laniari, Reylain, or Aevelar.

Special Event: For those who enjoy darker rp and are willing to undergo some light damage or more to their characters are welcome to contact the Wolves to take part in the special event that will go on within the ball. Volunteers will be given a break down of what will take place and from there we will stem separate rp possibilities between you and your partners. 

For further questions, please contact Celestine [ @wolf-queen