#Lee Tray Clover

[bluebladefluff]

Ok, so I’ve been thinking and I want to make a new Bot! So choose who you want in the poll and I’ll make them as soon as possible! :D

[george-fabian-weasley]

George Weasley — 5th December

Summary:  You read him a poem as he laid on your chest, loving the sound of your voice.

Words: 1,870 words

Warnings: Major Fluff, I Blushed So Hard so You Shall Too, George Weasley Supremacy 2.0, Makes You Wish You Can Shift Sooner So You Could Have This Moment With Him, So Floofy It Hurts Physically

Disclaimer: S i g h. I am just so in love with this man. The way I blushed so hard through this entire thing is obvious enough I will never love someone as much as I love this 6′3 ginger dork. Ooh, also the poem is mine, I wrote it thinking of George fdhfhjks I’m actually so so nervous to show you guys my poem so I really hope you enjoy it!

“Hey, flower,” George greeted you as soon as he walked in your dorm, seeing you leaning against your headboard, scribbling onto your notebook. He hadn’t seen you at all today, and your friends had told him you had called in sick, so right after dinner, he snuck some leftover food and went straight to your dorm.  

“Hello, mysterious handsome man,” You teased and laughed at him narrowing his eyes playfully at you. “How’s your fever, love?” He asked as he walked closer, giving you a sweet forehead kiss. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his lips on your skin, sighing in content, “Much better since Madam Pomfrey gave me some potions to drink. They were ghastly, to be honest.” 

George chuckled at your fake vomiting, slightly relieved that you were still his same, silly flower. 

He sat at the edge of the bed, right beside you as he held a tray of leftover food he had picked out, there were cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, gummy worms, and a bowl of mushroom soup, which when you saw the thick creamy food you gasped, “They had mushroom soup today?!”

The next couple of hours were spent with you and him eating together in bed, you listening to his day today, Fred and Lee had tried to convince him to put some explosive powder into your mushroom soup earlier—you gasped in mock offense—luckily he said no, not wanting to be accidentally murdered in his bed at midnight—you nodded in agreement, he laughed—and the two friends wished you well. 

You instantly snatched the bowl and groaned at the taste of the soup on your tongue. George chuckled, “Yeah, reckon you would like a bowl of ‘em in bed.”

“You’re kidding? I would love to have it in bed, blimey you’re the best boyfriend ever, thank you, Georgie.” You gushed as you gave him a big wet kiss on his cheek, which he laughed loudly at.

And you told him about yours, about how ghastly this morning was that you had woken up in cold sweats and practically had to crawl out of your bed to call your friend for help—he was frowning so hard—and Madam Pomfrey had visited you twice during the day, giving you some potions and brought you some food to regain your energy—George planned to surprise Madam Pomfrey with sweets the next day as a thank you—and you spent the rest of your day writing.

“What were you writing? Another poem?” George asked, he had known you had a passion for writing ever since you were little. It doesn’t matter what kind of writing it was, you do everything. From poetry to short stories to even some of Hogwart’s news articles, you love everything there is about writing. Even songwriting, George had to close his mouth manually when he found out you could actually compose songs and sing, he thought he’s had enough reasons to love you as it is when turns out there are more and he’s more pleased to discover all of them over time with you.

“You’re right, actually. I missed you a lot today, so I wrote it for you,” You said with a small smile, eyes tearing away from George shyly. 

George had sworn his heart stopped beating for like 5 seconds.

“For me? Really?” He whispered in awe, his smile widening at your blushing cheeks. George was absolutely sure his face was the same hue as his hair at the moment, but his heart was leaping in too much joy to actually care. Seeing you before him trying to hide your heavy blush and trying so hard to contain a big grin with your teeth on your bottom lip had his whole knees weak. You looked mad adorable and all George wished to do at the moment was shrink you into pocket-sized and keep you in his pocket forever.

“I-I mean, no one has written me poems before…” He trailed off, his hand brushing the nape of his neck, feeling extremely giddy and extremely happy. He was usually the one who made you this way, blushing and stuttering, but when it’s your turn, he almost died out of heart attack each time.

“Well, you’re going to be surprised when I tell you that every love poem I’ve written, I thought of you.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at his widened eyes, flushed cheeks, with a giddy grin on his lips.

There it is; the heart attack.

“Well I would love to hear you read it for me—excuse me, madam, coming through,” He said, shuffling on the bed closer to you, laying between your legs, his back on your chest and his head on your shoulder perfectly; as if your body was molded solely to hold him this way, and George wouldn’t agree more. You laughed as he finally leaned onto you, sighing in content as he did. You pulled the blanket so it could drape the both of you perfectly, and you leaned your cheek to his forehead. 

“Alright, but warning, it’s very very mushy,” You warned, and he smiled a bit wider, “All the more reasons to read it then.” 

You reached the leather brown notebook at your other side, flipping the page easily to where you want it due to the lilac feather quill resting between the tea-colored pages, acting as a bookmark.

Your arm beside George rested on his head, massaging his scalp gently as he liked it. George hummed in content as he leaned onto your neck, feeling very comfortable. The warmth from your body behind him and the heavy blanket draped across you both felt so comfortable that he didn’t want to move, ever.

“This is the first poem, I call it 5th December,” You said, and George opened his eyes, “Why 5th December? Isn’t that like, 10 days ago?” You chuckled, “Yeah, I first wrote it then, but I finished it today.” George hummed in understanding, “Go on then.”

“I’m not very good at reciting poems, so excuse me if it doesn’t sound right.” You said and George dramatically sighed, “You’re stalling, love. And even if you say it most horribly, I’ll still love it because you wrote it.”

“Aww, Georgie,” You cooed, kissing his forehead causing him to crack a smile. “Okay, okay, here it goes.” You said and George had his eyes on the notebook you’re holding, scribbles of black lines and paragraphs filled every page.

“Awh, darling.” George cooed and kissed your cheek, causing you to stifle a giggle before going back into reciting mode.

“If you ask what my birthday wish was,

I simply could not tell you because

I don’t wanna say it’s wanting you with me laying down the grass

Together at night with the company of the stars.”

As you read the words, George found himself getting flutters in his stomach. He was so focused now, wanting to hear more of your voice and this poem combined, because to him, there is no such beauty that could compare. All that matters to him as of that moment, was you.

“If you ask what my falling star wish was

I shall simply shake my head just because

It’s hard to describe wanting you by my side each and every night

Taking your hand in mine and waking up with you next in line.”

You looked at him, and George was already looking at you with full adoration. He looked so mesmerized and amazed, you smiled at this; how adorable. You closed the notebook, you had already memorized every line as you had read it over and over for the past day, getting butterflies in your heart as you thought of George every time. With your eyes on him, your soft voice recited the poem again.

“If you ask what my new year’s wishlist was

I would simply put my lips together because

I couldn’t tell you it’s wanting to travel the world with you

And just try together everything new and spend time with you.”

George was in a trance. The beautiful words you crafted together were meant just for him. The poem you shared with him was because of you thinking about him. At that moment, George had thought of something he never would’ve thought during his past relationships. 

“If you ask what my clover wish was

I would just laugh and tell you no because

I wish to touch every inch of you every second with all my will

For your lips against mine, I shall need no happy pill.”

He wanted to spend his entire life with you, and no one else but you. He wanted to live with you, to be with you during thick and thin. Because… Because he loves you.

As you finished it, you gave him a gentle smile. There was a silent moment from the both of you, the only sound was the raindrops outside the window, the rhythmic splatter of water was therapeutic, to say the least.

“And if you ask, why won’t you tell me anything of you wished for

Let’s talk about it over a nice cup of tea just brewed

I shall say with the love in my eyes a secret till forevermore

That if I simply say it to you, then none of them would come true.”

You took your time to look at George’s face. Sometimes you had marveled at the fact that you could get this ridiculously beautiful man to be yours, to like you for who you are, to accept each and every quirk you have without any feeling of annoyance or disgust by them. 

This ridiculously beautiful man, with lush and soft ginger hair, light colored long eyelashes, the stunning color of brown for eyes, and peach-hued freckles decorating his face like footsteps of an elegant ballerina on stage.

“I am so lucky,” Was all George could breathe out as he leaned upwards, engulfing you into a passionate kiss. George loved every single moment when he kisses you, your lips are nicotine at its best, and he would drop everything to be an addict, an slave for you; for thousands of eternities if he could.

His hands had found the back of your neck, pulling it closer to his direction, deepening the kiss. You closed your eyes to relish the moment, your hands already found their place at each side of his jawline, hungrily pulling him closer to you.

When you pulled away, your lips were ghosting each other, his hard breaths hit your swollen lips softly. “What exactly are you lucky for, Weasley?” You breathed out, still panting softly, the smile on your lips grew as it mirrored the lovestruck smile on his lips.

He kissed your nose, and the rosy cheeks returned, “For you, for the poem, for you reading the poem, for you writing the poem while thinking of me,” You giggled and he joined with a chuckle, a soft smile on his face, “For everything. I love you, my flower.”

“I love you too,” you bit your lips, trying your hardest to contain a smile, “If this is what I get after reading you a poem then do you wanna hear the second one?” George laughed loudly; happy and content just being there with you.

TAGLIST:

“Oh, absolutely.”

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[farehamwinecellar]

Chateau de la Terriere Brouilly AC

Chateau de la Terriere Brouilly is 100% Gamay and is produced in the southernmost of the 10 Beaujolais crus. 

The historic Château de la Terrière has stood in Cercié since the 16th century and is one of the oldest estates in the region. After belonging to successive generations of aristocrats, Château de la Terrière was bought in 2003 and following investment,  important works have been carried out in the cellars and in the vineyards. Today the manager of the Chateau is Grégory Barbet, he 9th generation of a winegrowers family and the owner of Domaine de la Pirolette (located in St Amour). The winemaker is Yoan Pitoiset who is also the consultant oenologist for many other prestigious estates in Beaujolais.

Chateau de la Terriere is located in the heart of the historic Beaujolais, facing Mont Brouilly, the property and its vines spread southwards over a volcanic hill, giving the wines a unique character, as most of other vineyards in this appellation are planted on sandy soils. Their approach is very traditional – from planting clover in between the vines to fix nitrogen in the soil and to limit the weeding, to harvesting by hand in small trays to keep a high quality of the grapes.

Traditional Burgundian vinification takes place with destemmed grapes and maturation on fine lees.

The post Chateau de la Terriere Brouilly AC appeared first on Fareham Wine Cellar.

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[wilsongarden-blog]

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Bougainvillea prefers a warm and humid climate, is not cold-resistant, prefers to use light and try not to use diseased and deformed seeds, otherwise it is difficult to germinate. In the early summer season, many southern cities can see the bougainvillea everywhere, and the flower market can be seen selling bougainvillea grown in fine plastic pots. The shape of the flowerpot for planting bougainvillea can be round plastic flowerpots, which can be placed on the balcony. In order to prevent the muddy water from flowing around after leaking, a circular flowerpot tray can be placed.

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People living in the city can plant gardenia flowers on the balcony. However, if you want to look at the diameter of your plastic flower pot, it is recommended that you want to use the pressed strip to grow the plant. It is better to choose a large plastic flower pot. Another method is the simplest, that is, the water interpolation method, which will be described in detail below. Although there are many ways to breed scorpions, the easiest and quickest way is to float the water. First, find a piece of foam board and punch it up. Cut the scorpion's half-ripe branches and insert them into the holes of the foam board.