no wine for you!!



If you asked any fae in Prythian which court they would like to visit the most, they would all say Summer Court. There is a certain sense of peace that seems to encompass everything- the fishers laughing down at the shore, the sunlight reflecting on the rooftops of Adriata, the dolphins playing in the water. The fae of the Summer Court are clad in the richest, most vibrant colors; and as vibrant as their clothes is their food, every meal an explosion of fruits and vegetables, with wine so sweet you fall asleep after one sip too much. Summer Court ist like honey, dripping slowly onto your plate; it’s hiding in the coolness of the shadow when it gets too hot outside, and it’s wild, heart-breaking music, a symphony, an orchestra. No other court in Prythian has composers and musicians like they do in summer court- incomparable are their concerts and operas, each a small wonder in itself, each a memory never to be forgotten. 

Also, the Summer Court fae are in love with turtles. Every family has at least one turtle and their are to be protected at all cost. Tarquin, the High Lord of Summer, even has an own garden for the “royal” turtles and it’s one of the most stunning pieces of architecture in all of Adriata. 

anonymous asked:

36 + a + Bucky/Reader?

36. Person A hears Person B talking about them to a friend in a dirty way

a. smut

“Okay, spill.” Wanda lifted her wine glass up to her lips and smirked. “Have you fucked Bucky yet?”

“Oh my god, Wanda.” You shook your head and laughed. “No, I haven’t even told him how I feel.”

“If you could walk up to him and say anything without consequence what would you say?” Wanda raised her eyebrows as you thought over the question. 

“I’d probably say something along the lines of how much I’ve fantasized about him.” You sipped on your drink and sighed at the sweet alcohol.

“Like what?” Wanda nudged closed to you.

“I’m sorry?” You swirled the liquid in your glass.

“Come on, (Y/N), I really need some details here. Vision’s been gone for a fucking week and a half and-”

“Alright, alright.” You sat your glass down. “I’d tell him about how much I want him to use those tantalizing metal fingers on me, teasing me with them before shoving them inside my entrance. How I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way his scruff feels on my neck since we danced at Tony’s last party, and what it’d feel like between my legs. How I desperately want him to fuck my mouth…god, I can only imagine the size of his cock after the serum. I get wet just from his piercing gaze, how it feels like he’s mentally undressing me with each passing second. I’d let him fuck me anywhere he’d like, all he’d have to do is say the word and I’d be at his disposal.”

Wanda had lost all composure. She sat with her eyes fixated on the floor as her chest moved heavily. She glanced over at you for a moment before excusing herself. You chuckled and picked up your class, taking another sip. 

“You know…” Bucky’s lips brushed up against the shell of your ear and you froze. “If you wanted me so badly all you had to do was tell me.”

Alright, I need your help, lovies!

Specifically, baby witches. I’m going to be making a Q&A video for new witches. I’ll be looking to answer the most basic questions about starting witchcraft, or hell, things that bother you about witchcraft that you’d like me to rant about… so please send asks with questions you’d like answered in the video. I’ll promote your blog and give a shoutout to you in the video as well.

I promise this will be a lot more fun than it sounds and full of wine lol.

Thank you in advance for your help, loves.


August 25, 1971, the first few times to warn people who microchip animals.



And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so. 

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader
Genre/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst, Mature

You spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. The nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. 

For years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. Outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop.

Keep reading

wurwolf  asked:

We're getting a Wegman's out here in Lancaster in late 2018 and it's like the whole city has lost its goddamn mind


It’s a supermarket, but also a FUCKIN FOOD COURT, 


Like…it was like culture shock when I finally set foot in one which was like last year. In all my years I’ve never been to one before, never heard of them. And then my coworkers just say, “Yeah let’s go to Wegman’s for lunch.” And I’m just…it’s a supermarket how you doin that??

I guess Gov. Wolf approves too.

“On the sabbath we skipped church and you sat on the couch taking swills of holy water from a vodka bottle. You said God didn’t care for the container and I shouldn’t either.

It took three Sundays but I found faith in your sweaty hands that would clasp me like a prayer between palms kneeled before the alter after a bottle of communion and a promise confession would clear my name. Afterwards you swore the wine shades staining my skin were the Devil’s struggle from you gracing my skin with the hands of God. And I believed you.

After four months His name no longer burned you in blasphemy and sacrilege would slip my lips after an inhale of burnt bible paper and a swallow of sin sticky on my cheek. I repented to the toilet bowl while you chainsmoked luckies out the bathroom window and didn’t question your lack of prayer over dry toast and oatmeal.

One year in and the rip in my best church dress is nothing compared to the Devil’s wrath manifesting in your rage and lingering in lamb’s blood stains on my Wednesday stockings. I am crucified.

In two years I am able to walk into a church and taste blood as wine on my tongue rather than my own as condemnation. They say forgiveness is close to godliness so I bow my head to forgive the sins that dragged me past each level of my own personal hell. I ask to forgive even the wolf in sheep’s clothing that ripped each commandment from my rib and promised me atonement for each mortal sin. But for playing the Devil’s advocate, and each moment as the wolf’s fool, and every equivocate I let slip my judgement,”

—  please god help me to forgive myself.

anonymous asked:

have you experienced any sexism or harassment now that you are a girl?

First of all, I think you meant “now that you present as a girl.”

Second – yes, absolutely, but fortunately not very often. There’s the story of a guy who sat next to me at the wine bar, and did a double-take: “Oh, you’re a dude.” I had to correct him. “I’m actually designated male at birth, if you must know.” He admitted this was “very weird” for him and I reassured him we can do things to make it less weird, such as *ignore me.*

He seemed to do that for a bit until he insisted that what I’m doing constitutes “false advertising.” The rhetoric was that I’m a guy, but dressed up as a girl, so that’s misleading and thus false advertising. Naturally I lost it. I kept my composure as best as I could – which meant making a fist and taking some very deep breaths. I explicitly told him that I’m not ADVERTISING anything, I’m just SITTING here.

All of you know where this comes from. I’m a woman, therefore sexually available for guys like him. That is sexism. That is harrassment. I made it through the night. The owner of the place (my friend, fortunately) took care of it and I didn’t have to deal with him much longer. But still. The answer to your question is unambiguously “yes.”

anonymous asked:

glitter, champagne, wine for kojuro!

luxury asks

glitter: describe someone special to you.

He’s always worried about them–far more than he anyone thinks he ought to be. Kojuro thinks he has every right to worry more, because he just cares too much. Besides, he lives with them, shouldn’t he put their well-being as a priority in his home? But by far, his biggest fear is losing them–not being able to be there where he can’t protect them has to be the worst thing he could ever experience. After all they’re always getting lost in the midst of his mess…

… What, did you think I was talking about a lover? It’s just Bontenmaru.

champagne: what topic could you talk about for hours?

Kojuro’s surprisingly nostalgic, and he’s got a lot of moments he remembers from raising Masamune and Shigezane. Get him started on the past and he’ll go on forever–it’s almost a little endearing, since he just recalls so much about their most formative years. It’s in these moments you realize just how prominent he’s been in both of those boys’ lives, too staunch of a father figure to simply forget and treat as any other retainer–Kojuro’s just been through too much with those two.

wine: what kind of drunk are you (happy/affectionate, angry, sad, fun/wild)? if you don’t drink, what kind do you think you WOULD be?

I’ve always pegged Kojuro to be an affectionate drunk, but he’s a lot less cuddly and way more handsy. He rarely actually goes through with any of the things he claims he wants to do, and ends up falling asleep having just barely touched you in entirety. Always touching in relatively safe places–never too risky to feel sexual, but not quite light enough to feel entirely innocent. He claims to never remember any of this in the morning, but he’s probably really embarrassed about it in actuality.

anonymous asked:

If you were to be dominant in bed, Harry would take to calling you things like "ma'am" or "mistress", but lately when I think about this type of situation I've taken a liking to "my queen". Like when his wrists are tied up and he's laying underneath you, letting out helpless wines because he wants to touch you so bad, and when you lower yourself onto him he bucks his hips up. You slowly slide off of him as you tisk and say, "Good boys don't touch." And he whines and says, "Yes, my queen."


northern lights, preview


⇢ P R E V I E W ⇠

The thing is: shades make all the difference in the world when they belong to people’s auras for the darker the tone, the stronger the feeling. Therefore, the thin line between wine and mahogany is essential when you’re trying to save your life for, one is dangerous and the latter is lethal. They call it auras, that colored energy he sees surrounding every human being he has ever met – including his reflection in the mirror – but he likes to address it as northern lights for they appear as strings of light as vibrant as those phenomena in the arctic circle’s night skies.
He has grown accustomed to his loneliness and the walls that surround him are rendered impregnable by the deep conviction that no one will ever be able to understand how the world appears when met by his gaze so, when she approaches him with her frisky walk – eyes sparkling with curiosity and a mint ice cream cone in her tiny pale hand – he’s more than reluctant at the thought of sharing a conversation with another individual, especially when it looks like she’s more or less his age, for he has learned that kids are often more brutal than adults since the line between good and bad is still extremely thin in their conscience.
He doesn’t register the sparkling light surrounding her or, to be more exact, he decides to purposely ignore it and focuses on the tiny sky blue dress she’s wearing and the way her long hair flutter in the hot summer air. Her lips are curved into a cute smile that he deems devilish for he knows that the more innocent they look, the ruthless they are.
“Hello,” her voice is high pitched, betraying her excitement as she sits unceremoniously right next to him offering him her mint flavored treat as a sign of peace.

⇢ S U M M A R Y ⇠

In a world that strives for homologation and demolishes any sign of individualism, Park Jimin is nothing but an outcast since the very early years of his life for he can see people’s auras in shade of colors that tell him so much about their personalities; all it takes is a glimpse of their true colors in the form of colored energy that surrounds them as northern lights in the night sky, to know even their darkest secret. He has learned the hard way that his ability is something it’s better to hide, to deny for he has no desire to be deemed as crazy. He has learned that solitude is a far better place to live in and he’s determined to not let anyone inside his walls. That is until she comes and asks him what her color is. And that’s when he decides pink is his new favorite shade.

          IT WAS LATE AND AVA had planned on getting a good night sleep, but she woke up to hear voices and one of them coming from the girl she was now supposed to be watching over. Walking into the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of the girl’s friends and a few of her wine bottles on the counter. “You can leave now,” she said sternly, glaring at the group of her friends as they basically high-tailed it out of the house. “And you? Hand that over — I can’t wait until your father hears about this.”

mimi-eats-carbs  asked:

Did you give thank you notes to your rotation PIs? I completely forgot for my first one, which I still feel bad about, and I kind of want to for my second one, but I have co-PIs and even something as simple as delivering a handwritten thank you note to them and what I would write in it makes me so nervous. My coworker who's kinda a suckup said when he rotated with one of the co-PIs, he gave him wine! That's nothing I would feel comfortable doing, lol. What do you think is appropriate? Thanks!

I just thanked them in person at the end of the rotation. Like, “Thank you so much for letting me rotate through you lab and taking the time to mentor me. I had a great experience and learned a lot and I hope to keep in contact with you about a thesis lab or being on my committee, and also to keep updated on your awesome research!” Something like that, pretty casual. It’s usually during my last meeting with them where we discuss if the lab is right for me or not, so the thank you is usually at the end.

Thank you notes are nice but at least in my university/program it’s not the established culture. And wow wine?? That’s def not required and tbh if I was a PI I’d feel a little awkward receiving such a lavish gift from a grad student. But idk, it really depends on the PI (like if they’re used to being buttered up like that?) and the program’s culture. 

Ask around your program, see what the other grad students in your year are doing. But honestly I feel like a thank you in person is appreciated enough :)

If anyone else has anything to add please do!

How did my life become so eventful

Just a few weeks ago I wasn’t really doing anything….stagnant, I guess you could say. Today, I had wine with my patrons at a winery owned by their personal friend. Who now wants my work on his winery’s walls. A humble brag, sure, but it’s not like this happens to me a whole lot if at all. I also came to the conclusion that there really isn’t a whole lot for me here anymore, and given the opportunity, I’d leave here in an instant

this is my favorite image on the face of the earth and im going to ruin it by trying to paint this tomorrow cause i have no artistic ability, using water color, which i have no experience with except like painting when i was 5. ill be liveblogging the probable failure. stay tuned.