you must drink

The One With The Interruption
  • *221B*
  • John: *knocks on Sherlock's bedroom door*
  • Sherlock: *in a sexy voice* Come iiiiin. I've been waiting for youuuuu.
  • John: *enters* Hey, I was just wondering- *shouting* for God's sake! *backs runs out in horror* what the hell are you doing?
  • Sherlock: *following, pulling on a dressing gown; annoyed* What does it look like? I was- I was taking a nap.
  • John: *averting his eyes* Since when do you take naps in that position? *groans* tPlease tell me you weren't waiting for me...
  • Sherlock: *frowns* Don't flatter yourself. I'm seeing someone from work *thinking* I'm seeing a woman from work!
  • John: *impressed* That really fit Hopkins woman?
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: Sure.
  • John: *quickly* Well, in that case, just give me a second and I'll be out of your hair. I'll just get a jacket and when I get back, I don't want to know anything.
  • -knocking-
  • John: *grimaces* Maybe that's her... *approaches the door*
  • Sherlock: *panicking* Okay, umm...
  • John: *opens the door*
  • Sherlock: *relaxes* It's just Grant and Mycroft...
  • John: *frowns* I thought you two were at dinner?
  • Greg: Well, we were! But Mycroft was talking so loudly on his phone they told us to leave.
  • Mycroft: *texting* I had to talk loud because that awful music was loud!
  • Greg: *frowns* It was important.
  • Mycroft: *sighs* They'll be other meals, Gregory.
  • Greg: *narrows his eyes* You'll be lucky.
  • Molly: *entering, happily; flipping a bottle of champagne, giggling to herself*
  • Molly: *sees everyone; suddenly shy* *grins widely; falsely excited* I'm so glad you're all here! My lab finally got new scalpels!

requested by anonymous ||| rhaegar, robert & eddard 

“Gods, Catelyn, Sansa is only eleven,” Ned said. “And Joffrey… Joffrey is…”  
                    She finished for him. “crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon.”  
                    That brought a bitter twist to Ned’s mouth. “Brandon. Yes. Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King’s Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me.
                    “Perhaps not,” Catelyn said, “but Brandon is dead, and the cup has passed, and you must drink from it, like it or not.”  

Andalusian Nights - Apricot Brandy, Myers Dark Rum and Orange Juice, and Pina Colada mix, from Spice Road Table located in Epcot’s Morocco Pavilion.

My dudes we had cinnamon in the cupboard for the first time in a decade and I don’t know if putting cinnamon in lemsip is some kind of abomination to mankind or anything but fuck it it’s in there

maybe in some other lifetime
or somewhere down the road we might meet up at the right time
—  “Marilyn” by G-Eazy


Leia introduce Luke to Lando in the Falcon, and tell Lando why Vader was looking for Luke (or why she thought Vader was looking for him anyway) very pointedly, to remind him that it’s his fault Luke is in this state and that she’s still very angry with him

and Lando feels guilty because Luke really doesn’t look so good, so he tries to defuse the situation how he knows best by complimenting Luke (and flirting just a little because the guy’s cute ok sue him) 

 “So you’re the pilot who destroyed the Death Star ?” and then with an appreciative smile “No one said you were so beautiful” 

and Luke, ok, Luke just had his encounter with Vader and is all bloodied and injured and he’s pretty out of sort and also more important he’s not as used to being complimented that way unlike Leia and Lando’s smile is very nice so he kind of just freeze and looks at Lando incredulously and then blushes and stutter when he tries to say thank you

and Lando feels even worse now, he thought that Luke would either laugh or glare at him, he didn’t expect the guy to be so shocked and didn’t want to make thing even more awkward 

so he just kind grip Luke’s shoulder, catch his eyes and tell him with every once of sincerity he has in his body  

“I’m sorry”

both for the inappropriate flirting and for helping Vader set a trap to catch him is left unsaid

but for a moment Luke feels like Lando is commiserating with him about Vader being his father and he suddenly really wants to burst into tears and get hugged by the beautiful man with the nice smile

but that would be even more awkward and require several explanations he’s not prepared to give so instead of that he simply duck his head and tell Lando that it’s ok and that he understands

and he does

he probably should feel angry he knows

he can feels Leia anger hanging like a stormy cloud over the room

but he has pretty much exhausted all his emotions right now and he can see things logically, and Lando had to protect his city

either way it’s not his fault

it was Fa-Vader’s 

That’s pretty much when the shock hit Luke again and his eyes become unfocussed and his breath hitch and it becomes clear to the others that Luke isn’t really there with them anymore

Luke miss Lando watching him with concern, and Leia pushing him into a seat and Chewbaca’s mournful moan, and Lando putting his cape on his shoulder when he starts to shiver

but later on, he’ll realize that he still have the cape and when he’ll knock on Lando’s door to give it back he’ll remember Lando smiling at him and calling him beautiful, and feel a small flutter of nervousness and excitement in his stomach

Old friends

With the encouragement of his brother and a sweet house elf, Newt is finally able to rekindle an old friendship. Pure fluff


Originally posted by hardyness

“Are you alright there Millie ?’ Newt asked the slight house elf, that he had known since he was a boy, holding a tray laden with bite sized food above her bat like ears. “here let me take this’, he tried to lighten her load, but would she hell let the tray go, ‘no master newt, Millie  must hand out the food, you must chat and drink and eat. Master newt deserves it.’ She tried to persuade him, ‘please Millie , I’m losing my mind, just let me hand things out, you can go to the kitchen and prepare for tomorrow. how does that sound?’ newt was almost begging the petite creature. His parents would have get together like this a few times each year, and he always left feeling utterly exhausted. “Millie hopes that master newt doesn’t use those eyes on ladies very often, he will break hearts’ Newt chuckled as the house elf allowed him to take the tray from her, before she scurried back into the kitchen, to get a head start on the chores for tomorrow.

Newt felt a bit more at ease, now that he had something to occupy him, it also meant that he didn’t have to stay and chat for long.

Before too long, his tray was empty, with his task complete, he went back to the edge of the room, trying desperately to blend in with the wall paper. Clearly his attempts were failing as his elder brother came and clapped him on the shoulder. He was about the same height as newt, maybe an inch or so shorter, but he had broad shoulders and a far stockier build. With dark hair to match his deep blue eyes. They talked for a while, catching up on what the other had been up to, until Thesesus noticed that Newt wasn’t paying attention anymore, he followed his gaze and landed on a beautiful young lady, a smirk grew on his face. “well little brother, whose the pretty little thing?’ Newt brought his attention back to Thesesus, realising that he was staring, he cleared his throat, ‘what do you mean? It’s y/n, you’ve known her since you were seven’ newt informed him incredulously. Her parents were old friends of the family, she was a few years younger than newt, but they had always been friendly.

“bugger, that’s y/n? She grew up well didn’t she’ Newt didn’t like the way his brother was looking at her, he cleared his throat once more, not wanting to make a scene. When that didn’t stop him, newt could feel himself growing warm, ‘Thesesus.’ He barked and  gave his brother warning look, ‘sorry Newt, I know you always had a bit of a fancy for her, but look at her, she’s grown quite lovely’ he said apologetically, ‘she was always lovely, far more than lovely’  newt smiled fondly. She must have felt his gaze, as she turned to give him a little wave along with a familiar smile.

“that’s it, you’re going over’ Thesesus pushed him, ‘no, no I don’t think that’s really necessary, look she’s talking to somebody already, and We haven’t seen each  other in such a long time.’ Newt stressed as his brother continued to escort him to the young lady, ‘well then, you’ll have plenty to catch up on, say hello from me, would you.’ He whispered into Newt’s ear before disappearing back into the crowd.

Newt silently seethed at his brother, he meant well really, he just wanted Newt to be happy, but he went about it like a bull in a bloody china shop.

“Newton? Newt is it really you?’ her curious, hopeful voice pulled him from his thoughts. He gave her a lopsided smile along with a nod, before she wrapped her arms around his waist, slightly taken off guard, it took newt a moment to react. He enveloped her in a warm hug, much like the one that they shared the last time he had seen her, as she waved him off on his first adventure, case a bit less worn, his journals pages fresh and empty. He smiled into her hair, at the fond memory.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up to high, after all he had been gone for a fair few months, any number of things could have happened in that time. The way she was holding him, clinging to the back of his jacket, so he might never leave her again, he couldn’t stop the glimmer of hope shining through his slightly cracked heart.

She eventually pulled away, letting his jacket go. “sorry, I missed you’ she gave him a watery smile, ‘Merlin, don’t cry, I thought you would be happy to see me’ Newt joked lightly as he brushed her tears away, ‘would you like to go into the kitchen? Like we used to.’ She nodded as she took his arm and he lead her through into the kitchen, where they had spent many of these dinner parties hiding under the scrubbed wooden table, seeking refuge with the house elves.

“I don’t think you’ll fit under the table anymore.’ She joked, ‘I’m sure you will though, dinky’ he teased back lightly, she gave him a slight smack on his arm. He chuckled as he pulled a chair out for her to sit.

They chatted like old friends, catching up with each other, Newt telling her his tales of his months of travel, while she told him of her career now that she was out of Hogwarts. While Millie made you both a pot of tea and a never ending supply of biscuits, ‘mm Millie, this shortbread is amazing, you’ve really out done yourself’, She praised the blushing house elf, as Millie poured Newt another cup of tea, despite his insistence that he was more than happy to do it himself.

“Millie thinks that master Newt needs to tell miss y/l/n,’ she whispered in his ear. He could feel his face flushing red, at her comment, heavens to Helga, he was so obvious even sweet little Millie had noticed.

He almost lunged for her small hand resting on the table, by her tea cup, he mumbled an apology, good start. He glanced to Millie, who gave him an encouraging smile. He took a deep breath and threaded his fingers with hers, his mind had often wandered to what he would say if he was ever given this opportunity, but now that he was finally here, it didn’t matter what he said or how he said it, it would never be enough.

Full of determination, he kept her hand clasped in his, as he stood and made his way around the table, next to wear she sat. He knelt on the cool stone floor of the kitchen, his face level with hers. He tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, away from her beautiful face, he ran his long fingers back across her blushing cheek, and dared to ghost over her soft lips. She kissed his fingertips as they lingered, she gave him a slightly cheeky flirtatious smile. That was the last push that he needed, he brought his lips to hers, but stopped just short of those plump delicious looking lips, ‘are you sure?’ he whispered, his breath surely tickling at her skin. She gave a small nod before finally closing the gap between them.


Have a great day and be safe

Romantic, Beach vacation fluff fic for V-Day

Decided to write something small in honor of Valentine’s Day coming up. I’ll consider posting a second, smuttier part if people want it. ;) And yes this fic was based on a very bad, cheesy country song. It’s called Sangria if you must know. ha

Drink You Like a Spanish Wine

The last rays of a tangerine sun fell upon the turquoise water as Hannibal and Will sipped another round of margaritas and piña coladas. They had lost count of which number of drinks they were on and empty glasses were strewn across the bar in front of them. The waiter at the tiny cabana not too worried about cleaning up the mess.

Hannibal leaned in close to Will as he spoke, his hand resting easily on Will’s back. “What did you say?” Hannibal asked. Will laughed, sipping on the straw and playing with the little yellow umbrella on the drink.

“I don’t remember either.” He laughed louder, resting his forehead on Hannibal’s shoulder. The sultry air smelled of cocoa butter lotion and sea salt.

Hannibal leaned in conspiratorially and whispered in Will’s ear, “You’re very handsome, Will.”

Will leaned back against his chair, reached out, and took Hannibal’s hat, placing it on his own head. “This is mine now.” He pressed his fingers to Hannibal’s jaw lightly, noting the way the orange light from the sunset illuminated his face, the intensity in his eyes.

Hannibal smiled coyly, taking Will’s fingers in his own and kissing Will’s hand. Their eyes met; passion, lust, and playfulness promised in both of their bedroom eyes.

“I think it’s time to go,” Will said, wrapping his arm around Hannibal’s waist as they stumbled from the cabana.

Hannibal rested his hand on Will’s chest as they walked leisurely back to the hotel. “Do you remember which room we are?” He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, looking at Will.

“Umm…123? No…125? We’ll figure it out.” Will tried to open the first door with no success and fell back against the wall, grinning like a fool.

Hannibal’s hands were on his waist, his lips close to Will’s. “We better hurry and figure it out, or I may have to take you right here and right now.”

“Scandalous, Dr. Lecter.” Will teased, running his hand up Hannibal’s chest. They fell together softly and surely. A wild, warm kiss.

Hannibal whispered into Will’s mouth. “Your tongue tastes as sweet and intoxicating as sangria.”

Will’s moan was low and lingering; his hands running down Hannibal’s back and resting on his ass. Their hips grinding together in an easy, familiar rhythm.

“I think it’s this one.” Will pulled away, trying the door to their right. Thankfully, it opened.

They tumbled into the room together, kissing and laughing, Hannibal pushed him back against the bed. The balcony door was open, the air was salty and humid.The sky turning dark now.  

“Your skin deserves to be worshiped, every inch, like a god of sun and sea.” Hannibal’s voice dripped with adoration and desire. He pressed kisses down Will’s chest and off Will’s shirt, revealing sun kissed, damp skin. 

Summer Hair Challenge

Towards the end of the school year I began to think of ways to maximize my hair growth during the summer. Taijah and I tried the protective style challenge starting back in November/December. To be honest…we didn’t do too well. At the beginning we did, but then started to slack off heavily. That’s when I thought of this small challenge for us to try. It doesn’t have a lot of rules and it is very basic. It goes as follows:

1. You must drink 3 bottles of water a day.

2. For each bottle of water you do not drink by 11:59pm, you must do 10 pushups per bottle.

3. [This is optional] Be sure to take your biotin (or whatever hair supplement of your choosing) each day.

4. Have your hair in a protective style majority of the time.


We started May 1st and are planning to go through August 1st. We will be sure to show before and afters once we are finished. This challenge can be done at any time of the year. Give it a try!



P90X3- Keep going

I’m in week 1 of Phase 3. And here’s the truth.

You WILL lose more weight in Phase 1.

Phase 2 is muscle building to PREPARE you for the fat shredding in Phase 3. You will lose almost NO weight. But you WILL lose inches.

Phase 3 is where the fat will almost melt off. 

You MUST be eating clean.

The scale is NOT everything and it does NOT define who you are. Keep in mind throughout the day you fluctuate abut 5 lbs up and down.

You MUST take before and after pictures. Seeing yourself everyday in the mirror blinds you to what’s actually happening.

You MUST measure yourself. See above.

You MUST drink a shit ton of water. EVERY DAY. You’d be surprised how much water retention can weight you down.

P90X3 is NOT just a program. It’s a transition into a lifestyle change.

And if you DON’T understand that, then you will NEVER keep the weight off and get to where you want to be.

My stats so far:

Sex: Female

Age: 22

Height: 5'2"

Frame size: Medium 

Start weight: 210

P90X3 start weight: 160

Current weight: 147

Ultimate goal weight: 120-125ish? (idk, we’ll see what happens….?)

Lost 9 lbs in Phase 1 (and about 2 inches). Lost NO WEIGHT IN PHASE 2, but lost 10 inches all over. Nearing the end of week 1 of Phase 3 and have lost 4 lbs already (no joke).

I’ve never been this lean in my life. I’ve never had this much muscle in my life. I’ve never been this happy in my life. I’ve been “that girl”. The fat girl all my life. I don’t even UNDERSTAND what it means to be “skinny” or “fit”. I still don’t. I cried tears of joy in the fitting room the first time I fit into a size medium shirt. Whispering, “I’m doing it. I’m doing it,” to myself in the mirror.

And yet the woman looking back at me in the mirror is so foreign to my own eyes. So different from what I’ve been. My arms are all muscle with no fat. The fat I always thought would be there. My stomach is my problem area, yet when I lie down, it’s flat. I run my hands over it sometimes in wonder because it’s wonderful and beautiful and my life has been changed forever by this journey.

The journey of loving yourself.

And this is why I am sharing with you all.

Don’t you give up. It’s not worth it.

Can you hear me?

Are you listening?




It’s okay to feel defeated. It’s okay to cry or get frustrated or to give yourself that cheat once in a while. But food is not the enemy. 

Humans are emotional, but you must learn to discipline your emotions or they will use you. Behind your feelings is nothing, but behind every principle is a promise. Get back up.



How to succeed in heartbreak without really trying.
First, do nothing.
Become one with your couch eating
whole stacks of Oreos like leaning towers of feelings.
Watch Jane Austen’s adaptations until your eyes become raisins. Relish in Colin Firth emerging from the lake in a white shirt.
If you must do something, drink, but keep it classy.
Put your cheap wine in a glass, you aren’t a pirate.
Talk to yourself.
Talk to yourself in the mirror, on public transportation,
in the middle of the fountain at the mall.
Because there are things you never got to say
and you don’t have to swallow them.
Join Tinder, make your profile picture a model and talk to no one.
Just keep swiping until you got carpal tunnel,
that way you can reject 50 people a minute
and it feels like killing ants with abs.
Kiss as many people as you need
to get the stamp of his lips off of your brain.
Go to museums, realize other things have history too.
Play hide and go seek with your REM cycle.
We’re are not sure which worse to wake up from:
the nightmares about your sides are splitting open
or the dreams about him holding your jaw
like it meant something to him.
You might as well tape your eyelids to your forehead
because at least you could lie to yourself while you’re awake.
Stay up until 3, 3:30, 4. Brew tea with the bags under your eyes.
Write. Write until you lose every metaphor in your library 
you start using the same one over and over, because
there’s only so many ways to describe being destroyed.
But once you get there,
that’s just the foundation.
Next, gather up all of the chinks in your chain,
fasten them together.
Make chainmail and write that bitch into battle.
Take his name, the one that’s still hurts to say and use it as a warcry. Then actually cry,
because there is nothing shameful about clearing your eyes.
Do not pick yourself up.
Do not be okay, because
heartbreak is not being okay, 
it’s about remembering you were okay before.
It’s about saying “Fuck okay!”.
It’s about taking all of your broken pieces
and building yourself a castle, because I don’t care who you are.
You’re a goddamn queen.
It’s about saying “Fuck this poem!”.
No one succeeds at heartbreak.
I built myself a throne room out of pizza boxes and empty lunch bowls. And I can’t stop crying into my Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.
But one day I cry myself a fountain of youth.  
Let’s go back to beginning.
I’m tired of self-help tips and friendly pick me ups.
I drink a bottles, bottles and bottles,
pretending their mouths belong to someone else.
But I’m done feeling sorry for myself,because
why apologize for loving until you burst?
My capacity to feel needs no pardon.
My heart needs no mending.
I am not broken.
I’m just a little more…explosive!
—  How to Succeed in Heartbreak, Victoria Morgan

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

—  “Solitude” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

anonymous asked:

NEW ANON HERE! You must drink the beer of the root. It's different here across the pond. Not ungodly sweet and more carbonated. We will send a courier.

Wait wait hold on there’s different kinds?

is this like a cola situation where there’s coke original, but also cherry cokes and vanilla cokes and bacon cokes 

or is a lemonade situation where there’s endless variations of the recipe?

The glass touched your lips, the bitter taste of blood flooding your mouth. You whimpered and clenched your eyes shut, leaning away from it.

“My love, you must drink.” Hanzo stared down at you, his eyes stern yet gentle.

Shifting slightly, you nodded and parted your lips, silencing the churning of your stomach. You hadn’t gotten used to the taste, and you didn’t think you would.

He had turned you to save your life, the decision running on impulse. After you had opened your eyes, Hanzo spent quite some time apologizing. He didn’t want this life for you, the constant hunger that influenced your every move.

You tried to imagine the blood as something sweet, and you slipped back into the life before you had turned into a vampire.

“I wish I had not acted so quickly,” Hanzo said in a quiet voice, setting the empty glass on the table.

“You did it to save my life, Hanzo. I don’t hate you for it,” you said. You spoke the truth, your anger directed more at yourself. You shouldn’t have been so reckless in the battle; you should’ve checked every corner for the sniper.

He sighed softly and scooted toward you, brushing a hand down your cheek. You shivered at the chill from his skin, knowing you felt the same to everyone else.

“Do you really wish to spend eternity with me?” Hanzo asked, pressing his lips against your forehead.

“You know I do.” You took his hand in yours, smiling at how right it felt to have him there with you. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have been so forgiving. “I know I love you, Hanzo.”

He smiled, his eyes searching your face for any deceit.

“And I love you. For eternity and what may rest beyond that.”

Some Women are Smarter than Others

Your poems are too short, she said
and have you ever read Kurt Vonnegut?
you will need to familiarize yourself with the school
of New Journalism
Faulkner was a great writer
read Hemingway
go to Paris
or New York
try to travel
get out of California
California is shallow and vacuous
punk is dead
so you might as well give it up
there’s a new sound
and a new band
and this other band that you have to hear
have you ever read Henry Miller?
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas bores me
Tropic of Cancer is a better book
don’t drink so much
why must you drink so much?
all the great writers killed themselves
with the drink
work on writing longer stanzas
work on your meter
go back to school
learn from others
learn to paint
or to play an instrument
everyone can teach you something
stop being so stubborn
you have talent but you’ll never go anywhere
not with that attitude

“Okay”, I said

and then as I left
I reminded her,

“It wasn’t the drink that killed Hemingway
it was the shotgun.”

- A. Ramirez

Some Women Are Smarter Than Others, taken from my book of poetry “Man is the Bastard” which you can purchase on Amazon