#National orange wine day

[rabbitcruiser]

National Orange Wine Day

National Orange Wine Day is celebrated every year on October 6 but it’s always a good day to pop open a bottle of orange wine. Now we know what you’re thinking — ‘Orange wine? Like wine made from oranges? That’s neat!’ Yes, it does sound neat. However, orange wine is not a wine made from oranges. It has nothing to do with oranges. It’s wine made of white wine grapes that are fermented with their skins on. This is what gives the finished product its distinct color. Although you may not have seen orange wine in a lot of places but trust us, that’s going to change soon!

History of National Orange Wine Day

National Orange Wine Day was first established in 2018 by the “National Day Registry,” in an attempt to bring more awareness to this beautiful yet little-known wine. Now you may not have seen orange wine at your nearest liquor store or even your favorite watering hole, but this wine has roots tracing back thousands of years.

Wine scholars suggest that orange wine was first made in Georgia, Europe way back in 6000 B.C. What’s interesting is that Georgia is also thought to be the birthplace of wine. In the coming thousands of years, orange wine fell into obscurity. But a recent resurgence started around two decades ago when wine connoisseurs all over the world rediscovered this unusual type of wine.

The technical term for this wine style is ‘skin-contact wine’ because of the technique with which they are made. Just like all the other popular styles of wine — red, white, sparkling, and rose — orange wine is also made from pressing and fermenting grapes — white wine grapes to be specific.

To put it simply, white wine is made from grapes with their skins off, red wine is made from grapes with their skins on, while rose is made from grapes that have had their skin left on for a short period.

Orange wines, or skin-contact wines, are made with white grapes with their skins on. When the crushed grapes are fermenting, they take on a more tannic quality from their skins and pips, but also a deeper color. Most skin-contact wines are more of a golden yellow than a definite orange but many end up having a bright amber shade.

National Orange Wine Day timeline

6,000 B.C. Orange Wine Is Made

According to wine academics, orange wine is first created in Georgia, Europe.

1950s — 1960s The Downfall

Orange wines begin falling out of fashion in places like Italy as fresh white wines dominate the market.

2004 It Gets Its Catchy Name

The now popular term ‘orange wine’ is coined by a British wine importer, David A. Harvey.

2018 National Orange Wine Day is Established

The day is founded by The Real House Wine to popularize this lesser-known wine.

National Orange Wine Day FAQs

Why do people swirl their wine?

Wine tasters are often seen swirling the wine in their glasses. This may just seem like a fancy way of drinking but it’s actually done to release the wine’s aromas. People also don’t fill the glass more than a third full to leave a space where these aromas can collect.

Is orange wine sweet or dry?

On the palate, orange wine is big, dry, and even has tannin like a red wine with a sourness that can be likened to fruit beer. Orange wines can often be so intense that you might want to sit down when you first taste them.

Is orange wine expensive?

Naturally, due to its rarity, orange wine can be heavy on the budget. But apart from the rarity factor, the expense can also be justified for the subtle-to-overt depth and complexity orange wines possess. They offer a range of flavors that go well with different kinds of foods as well.

National Orange Wine Day Activities

Drink some orange wine

Make orange wine

Visit a vineyard

Scour your nearby liquor stores and trendy wine bars for a bottle of orange wine. There’s no better way to honor this very important day by drinking orange wine with your buddies.

Make your own orange wine at home if you're having trouble finding a place that sells it. Making wine is an art and it can also be incredibly rewarding. You’ll find plenty of online resources like Masterclasses, blogs, and even YouTube tutorials.

Take off for the weekend and visit a lovely vineyard with your loved ones. Breathe in the scent of different styles of wines, try the wines you’ve never heard of before, and get into interesting conversations with winemakers.

5 Facts About Wine That Will Blow Your Mind

Orange wine goes well with bold-flavored foods

Most orange wine is made in Italy

Grapes are the most planted fruit

Oenophobia

Romans forbid women from drinking it

Remember to pair this wine with Moroccan, Ethiopian, Korean, and Japanese cuisine.

Most orange winemaking is found in northeastern Italy, along the border of Slovenia in the picturesque region of Friuli–Venezia Giulia.

Grapes are the most planted fruit in the world and a ton of grapes can be produced to make 720 bottles of wine.

Some people have a fear of wine called ‘oenophobia.’

In early Roman times, it was also considered lawful if a man killed his wife if he caught her drinking wine.

Why We Love National Orange Wine Day

It tastes divine

It’s the natural way of wine making

It has a gorgeous color

Orange wine truly tastes like nothing else! Some taste like a light red wine while some can taste like a sour beer. There is a lot of variation in the taste but orange wines tend to taste more bitter because of the presence of a lot of tannins. Some common tasting notes include stone fruits like apricot, and dried fruits and flowers.

Orange wines are considered to be more ‘natural’ because their high levels of tannins mean the wine can be bottled without adding sulfur dioxide. It is often unfiltered, contains no fewer additives, and is made with traditional wine production methods.

Its beautiful orange hue is the most noticeable thing about orange wine. It can be the color of tangerine but it can also be gold, yellow, amber, and even pink. The color depends on the type of grape used to make the wine and how ripe it was, the time taken to ferment it, the vessel used to ferment it, and the method of extraction.

Source

[greenwitchcrafts]

February 2024 witch guide

Full moon: February 24th

New moon: February 9th

Sabbats: Imbolc-February 1st

February Snow Moon

Known as: Eagle Moon, Horning Moon, Solmonath Moon, Bear moon, Ice Moon, Wild Moon, Raccoon Moon, Big Winter Moon, Groundhog Moon, Quickening Moon, Storm Moon, Goose Moon, Hungry Moon & Red/Cleansing Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aquarius & Pisces

Nature spirits: House Faeries

Deities: Aphrodite, Brigid & Nut

Animals: Otter & Unicorn

Birds: Chickadee & Eagle

Trees: Cedar, laurel, myrtle & rowan

Herbs: Balm of Gilead, hyssop, myrrh, sage & spikenard

Flowers: Primrose

Scents: Heliotrope & wisteria

Stones: Amethyst, jasper, moonstone, obsidian, onyx , rose quartz, topaz & red zircon

Colors: Light blue & violet

Energy:  Astral travel, banishing, beginnings, breaking bad habits, creativity expressiveness, empowerment, energy working to the surface, fertility, forgiveness, freedom, friendships, future plans, growth, healing, problem solving, purification, responsibility & science

February’s full Moon is a “Micromoon” this year. Think of this term as the opposite of a “Supermoon.” It simply means that the full Moon is at its farthest point from Earth (not the nearest point).

The explanation behind February’s full Moon name is a fairly straightforward one: it’s known as the Snow Moon due to the typically heavy snowfall that occurs in February. On average, February is the United States’ snowiest month, according to data from the National Weather Service. In the 1760s, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had visited with the Naudowessie(Dakota), wrote that the name used for this period was the Snow Moon, “because more snow commonly falls during this month than any other in the winter.” 

Imbolc

Known as: Feast of Torches, Feast of Waxing Light, Oimele & Brigid's Day

Season: Winter

Symbols: Besoms, Brighid's crosses, candles, candle wheels, fertility symbols, fire, ploughs, priapic wands & white flowers

Colors: Black, brown, Earth tones, lavender, light green, orange, pink, red, white & yellow

Oils/Incense: Apricot, basil, bay, carnation, chamomile, cinnamon, dragon's blood, frankincense, heather, jasmine, myrrh, neroli, red sandalwood, sage, vanilla, violet & wisteria

Animals: Badger, cow, deer,groudhog, robin, sheep, snake, & swan

Mythical: Dragon

Stones: Amethyst, bloodstone, citrine, clear quartz, garnet, green tourmaline, hematite, iron, lodestone, onyx, red zircon, rose quartz, ruby, turquoise, yellow tourmaline

Food: Breads, chives, curries, dairy products, grains, garlic, herbal teas, honey cakes, lamb, muffins, onions, peppers, poppy seed cakes, pork, poultry, pumpkin seeds, raisins, scones, spiced wines & sunflower seeeds

Herbs/Plants: Angelica, ashleaf, balsam, basil, bay laurel, benzoin, blackberry, clover, coltsfoot, coriander, dragon's blood, garlic, heather, lemon, myrrh, rosemary, sage, vervain, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Celandine, chamomile, iris, rose hips, snowdrop, sunflower, tansy, violets, white flowers & yellow flowers

Goddesses: Anu, Aradia, Arianrhod, Artio, Athena, Branwen, Brigid, Danu, Februa, Gaia, Inanna, Juno, Selene, Sirona & Vesta

Gods: Aegus Mac Og, Bragi, Cupid, Dian Cecht, Dumuzi, Eros, Februus & Pax

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Activation/awakening, animals, beginnings, fertility, healing, hope, illumination, inspiration, light, pregnancy/childbirth, prophecy, transformation, well-being & youth

Spellwork: Air magick, banishings, candle spells, divination, fertility spells, prosperity & purification

Activities:

• Make & light white candles

• Clean/decorate your altar & consecrate your  altar tools

• Go on a walk in nature & look for signs of spring

• Make a Brigid's Cross

• Have a feast with your family/friends

• Give thanks & leave offerings to the Earth

• Set intentions, reflect & look deeper into your goals for spring

• Start a bonfire

• Find Imboloc prayers & devotionals that bid farewell to the winter months, honor the goddess Brigid, as well as seasonal blessings for your meals, hearth, & home.

• Pepare plans for your upcoming garden

• Craft a priapic wand

• Spend time with children celebrating Imbolc by making crafts & or baking

• Practice divination & fire scrying

• Draw a cleansing ritual bath for yourself

• Meditate, reflect & say your farewells to winter

• Cleanse & clean your house to prepare for spring

• Create a Brídeóg: a doll of Brigid made of straw

• Make Bride's bouquet satchets & exchange as symbols of good luck and fertility

• Set aside food & or drinks as an offering to Brigid to invite her in your home

Imbolc is a Gaelic festival marking the beginning of spring. Most commonly it is held on January 31 – February 1, or halfway between the winter solstice & the spring equinox. The holiday is a festival of the hearth, home, a celebration of the lengthening days & the early signs of spring. 

The word "imbolc" means "in the belly" and refers to the pregnancy of ewes at this time of year. The term "oimelc" means ewe's milk. Around this time of year, many herd animals give birth to their first offspring of the year or are heavily pregnant & as a result, they are producing milk. This creation of life’s milk is a part of the symbolic hope for spring.

Imbolc is mentioned in some of the earliest Irish literature and it is associated with important events in Irish mythology. It has been suggested that it was originally a pagan festival associated with the goddess Brigid and that it was Christianized as a festival of Saint Brigid, who herself is thought to be a Christianization of the goddess.

Some use Imbolc to celebrate the longer days which herald the return of Spring & The Goddess's recovery from giving birth to The Sun (The God) at Yule. The God & The Goddess are children symbolizing new life, new beginnings & new resurrections.

Related festivals:

• Groundhog Day-  Is a tradition observed in the United States & Canada on February 2 of every year. It derives from the Pennsylvania Dutch superstition that if a groundhog emerges from its burrow on this day & sees its shadow, it will retreat to its den & winter will go on for six more weeks; if it does not see its shadow, spring will arrive early.

While the tradition remains popular in the 21st century, studies have found no consistent association between a groundhog seeing its shadow & the subsequent arrival time of spring-like weather.

•St. Brigid's Day- 1 February. It was originally Imbolc, the first day of spring in Irish tradition. Because Saint Brigid has been theorised as linked to the goddess Brigid, some associate the festival of Imbolc with the goddess. St. Brigid is the patroness saint (or 'mother saint') of Ireland. She is patroness of many things, including poetry, learning, healing, protection, blacksmithing, livestock & dairy production. In her honour, a perpetual fire was kept burning at Kildare for centuries.

A recent campaign successfully established her feast day as a national holiday in 2023.

• Chinese New Year- (February 10th) the festival that celebrates the beginning of a new year on the traditional lunisolar Chinese calendar. In Chinese, the festival is commonly referred to as the Spring Festival,- marking the end of winter and the beginning of the spring season. Observances traditionally take place from Chinese New Year's Eve, the evening preceding the first day of the year, to the Lantern Festival, held on the 15th day of the year. The first day of Chinese New Year begins on the new moon that appears between January 21st & February 20th.

The Chinese New Year is associated with several myths and customs. The festival was traditionally a time to honour deities as well as ancestors. Within China, regional customs and traditions concerning the celebration of the New Year vary widely & the evening preceding the New Year's Day is frequently regarded as an occasion for Chinese families to gather for the annual reunion dinner.

It is also a tradition for every family to thoroughly clean their house, in order to sweep away any ill fortune & to make way for incoming good luck. Another custom is the decoration of windows & doors with red paper-cuts and couplets. Popular themes among these paper-cuts and couplets include good fortune or happiness, wealth & longevity. Other activities include lighting firecrackers  & giving money in red envelopes.

•  Candlemas- is a Christian feast day on February 2nd commemorating the presentation of Jesus at the Temple. It is based upon the account of the presentation of Jesus in Luke 2:22-40. 

While it is customary for Christians in some countries to remove their Christmas decorations on Twelfth Night, those in other Christian countries historically remove them after Candlemas.On Candlemas, many Christians also take their candles to their local church, where they are blessed and then used for the rest of the year.

•Setsubun- (February 3rd) Is the day before the beginning of spring in the old calendar in Japan. The name literally means 'seasonal division', referring to the day just before the first day of spring.

Both Setsubun & Risshun are celebrated yearly as part of the Spring Festival (Haru matsuri ) in Japan. In its association with the Lunar New Year, Setsubun, though not the official New Year, was thought of as similar in its ritual & cultural associations of 'cleansing' the previous year as the beginning of the new season of spring. Setsubun was accompanied by a number of rituals & traditions held at various levels to drive away the previous year's bad fortunes & evil spirits for the year to come.

Other Celebrations:

• Lupercalia-

In ancient Rome, this festival was conducted annually on February 13th through 15th under the superintendence of a corporation of priests called Luperci. The origins of the festival are obscure, although the likely derivation of its name from lupus (Latin: “wolf”) has variously suggested connection with an ancient deity who protected herds from wolves and with the legendary she-wolf who nursed Romulus and Remus. As a fertility rite, the festival is also associated with the god Faunus.

to purify the city, promoting health & fertility.

Each Lupercalia began with the sacrifice by the Luperci of goats and a dog, after which two of the Luperci were led to the altar, their foreheads were touched with a bloody knife & the blood was wiped off with wool dipped in milk; the ritual required that the two young men laugh. The sacrificial feast followed, after which the Luperci cut thongs from the skins of the sacrificial animals & ran in two bands around the Palatine hill, striking with the thongs at any woman who came near them. A blow from the thong was supposed to render a woman fertile.

In 494 CE the Christian church under Pope Gelasius I forbade participation in the festival. Tradition holds that he appropriated the form of the rite as the Feast of the Purification (Candlemas), celebrated on February 2, but it is likely that the Christian feast was established in the previous century. It has also been alternately suggested that Pope Gelasius I replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine’s Day, celebrated on February 14th, but the origin of that holiday was likely much later.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[oumaheroes]

[8] + fruk? idk, it sounds like something they'd hardly tell each other but I figured it's a challenge you could enjoy solving. :) i love your writing btw. Thank you for sharing it with the world. <3

[8] 'I love you'

Both of these asks are so so old but I enjoy a challenge, Anons! Took me a while but I got there in the end. Hope you like!

Characters: France, England, FrUK

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love Is...

'You're not entirely intolerable.'

England says this to him in warm candlelight, yellows and orange hues dancing gently on his cheek and across his nose. On his back, no less, looking up at France with wine soft eyes amongst expensive coverlets and pillows of a borrowed palace bed.

France's hands are busy, one supporting him, one not, and thus he knows there is some bias to England’s words.

If it were darker, less candlelight and more masking cover, maybe they would be more true. England had always been gentler in the shadows, safer when he feels he can't be seen.

'Shame the same cannot be said for you.' France says in reply, and bites him hard on the shoulder.

-------------

'You can be useful.'

France sounds surprised.

England clenches his jaw. 'Fuck you.'

'I'm serious.' France twirls the pointed end of his share knife into England thick wooden table. 'There may yet be hope in regards to you being anything of value.'

It is France's own knife, at least, that he is blunting. Gilded- overly so, so it's almost more decorative than usable. Almost. France does so like to find those lines and tease them.

The remains of a meal are pushed aside, a map open and curling long between them instead like a dried up sea. England wants to grab the knife out of France’s hand and jab it in his eye but he doesn’t. He needs France, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, needs his help sweet talking the French nobility and keeping his King in check and so refrains from lunging across the table. Swallows bitterness down and looks from the maimed table to the map.

The French coastline looks alien upside-down but England doesn’t ask France to turn it around.

‘So.’ France’s voice is silky and low, ‘Can you deliver on your end?’

England thinks of his own King, thinks of his endless envy that is great enough to engulf his nation’s pride. He nods.

France clicks his tongue, ‘What a surprise.’

-------------

‘Where have you been?’ A nation who will one day be England pouts and crosses his arms across his chest, ‘I’ve been waiting here for hours’.

‘It wasn’t hours.’ A nation who will one day be France looks about the bank of the tree where England is sat in distain, ‘The ground is wet.’

‘You’re late.’ England insists, ‘You said you would be here by noon. And wet ground is better to write in.’

‘It’s still noon. Couldn’t you have picked somewhere sunnier? The ground hasn’t dried here; where will I sit.’

‘Are you stupid?’ England holds out an arm and gestures to the shadow it makes upon the floor with another. It is slightly longer than noon would provide, ‘Does that look like noon?’

‘Do you want me to help, or not.’

‘No.’

France sighs, ‘Fine. Do you want me to do this the easy way or the hard way.’

England kicks at a small stone and it bumps a little ways down the small pathway along the edge of the wheat field he’s been biding his time in. This France knows, because there’s chaff caught in his hair and dusting amongst the mud of the dampened hem of his cloak.

‘I already know how to write letters,’ England grumbles, ‘Rome made me learn his, and they’re exactly the same as your ones. Why do I have to do this all again.’

‘Because after Rome, you learnt some barbarian ones, and now I want to make you presentable. These are things any decent, proper nation should know.’ France dusts down England’s hair, ‘And it’s very hard to bring you up to par when you keep avoiding my visits and moving from castle to castle.’

England shakes his head and looks away.

‘You should stay with the King,’ France says pointedly, ‘Not move about the strongholds like a vagabond. You shouldn’t show your earls too much favour.’

France sees England hold himself back from speaking. He knows what England wants to say and is relieved when he keeps the several possible and difficult arguments to himself. An improvement, but maybe only because there’s no one else to hear.

‘Move.’ England says suddenly. He picks up a stick that France had failed to notice, propped up ready to go against a thick root, and waves him out of the way and off the flat dirt road. He begins scrawling in the ground in rigid, sharp strokes. ‘If I write “go fuck yourself” in Latin, Norman, and French, will you do so?’

-------------

‘I don't always hate you.’

France says this so quietly that England almost didn’t hear him. He wouldn’t have done, if he didn’t know France’s voice and his habits so well. He halts, the quiet palace yawning open unseen down the darkened passage ahead.

From the corner of his eye, England sees France shift where he leans in the archway. He was so still that England hadn’t noticed him as he walked, his dark shape held like a statue in shadows. Now that he knows he’s there, England can almost see the glint of silver threads in the moonlight, fine clothes on a man made just as much from the dirt as he.

A shift of fabric as France moves again. England stares ahead and does not look at him.

‘You may not believe that, but it’s true.’ France offers quietly. ‘I don’t like to think that you believe otherwise.’

‘I don’t like that you make me believe so.’

A pause. England can hear the sounds of the evening: distant footsteps on flagstones, the rustle of trees in the orchard beyond the stone courtyard walls. The smells of thousands of past summers on the warm breeze, blurring the edges of the era and turning the night endless.

The moment stretches, full and expectant. Then, a sigh.

It passes.

France does not reply, and England walks away.

-------------

‘Are you coming with me?’

France snorts. ‘I am offended that you would ever think that I would.’

‘Oh fuck off. Come on.’ England’s eyes are dangerously captivating, ‘You’re just as bored as I am.’

‘Unlike yourself, I am able to find joy in the finer things.’

‘Francis, this is the worst fucking ball we’ve been to in centuries.’

France winces, ‘Yes, but the food is at least good. And the people here are-‘

‘All over fifty.’

‘We are over fifty. And they’re-’

‘Boring.’

‘Important.’ France corrects, ‘They are important, my dear.’

England scoffs and looks across the lacklustre and lethargic dancefloor, couples with outdated clothes and dour expressions stiffly moving in their formations. He swirls his wine in his glass and points with it shamelessly, ‘Important for what, exactly.’

‘To be seen by. To talk politics with. To encourage away from silly decisions that will ruin my skin for the next decade.’

‘And the younger important people? Or heaven forbid, any fun ones? Where are they?’

France shrugs with one shoulder helplessly, ‘The Viscount is... particular.’

England raises and eyebrow and France shrugs, ‘Fine. It is dull. He is dull, and these are all his dull friends. What do you want me to say, the money is here but the life is gone. I’m not blind, Arthur.’

England adjusts the lace of France’s collar, straightening it from where a point has curled under itself, ‘Well, I’m going to the inn on Perry street. That’s where the kitchen boy told me-‘

‘The one with the hair, or the one with the funny leg?’

‘The one with the teeth.’

France shakes his head, ‘Poor boy. Sugar is a terrible thing, I wonder when people will pick up on that.’

England rolls his eyes and downs his wine. France winces, ‘That was expensive.’

‘Good. I’m off.’ England kisses his cheek quickly, the powdered hairs of his wig tickling France’s neck, ‘Have fun somehow being the most interesting thing in the room for a change.’

‘Ha ha.’

France watches England carelessly drop his very expensive glass onto a passing waiter’s tray and tuts at him, ‘You’re too over-dressed for a common inn, you’ll get mugged.’

‘I’ll manage.’

‘I’m sure you will. When I find your naked corpse in a hedge tomorrow, don’t tell me I didn’t tell you so.’

‘I tell you your make-up makes you look like sun bleached fish every day, and yet you still wear it.’

France huffs and turns away. He hears the clip of England’s shoes as he slips behind a curtain until his steps soften, sights fixed on the dancers. The crowds in the edges of the hall, in the dark corners where candles cannot find them, have a low murmuring buzz that heaves itself above the orchestra enough to give life to the odd word of two. None of them give France any hope.

Once he is sure no one noticed England leave, France downs his own wine and pushes himself away from the wall to join him.

------------

‘Be careful.’

England blinks, confused.

It is dark, moonlight all they have to go by, and they are watching British soldiers pour out from and over French beaches into hungry, waiting boats. Months of planning, countless sleepless nights and hours held stressed and tense in the wait for scraps of coded information has lead them here, to this. To men running through waves, to home so close and yet so far, and a flight through the dark to get stranded soldiers home before France falls.

England feels hollow. His chest feels concaved, an empty feeling of something like relief rotting and curdling there at the thought that this momentous victory is in the grand scheme of things, nothing at all. A huge success merely only for how difficult any small victory is. And still a failure because... because-

France’s hand brushes his. England swallows and entwines their fingers together.

‘You’re the one who should be careful.’ He says.

France squeezes his fingers. ‘If-‘

‘Don’t.’

‘-If.’ France’s grip tightens, ‘If, Arthur. Just be careful. I’ll be fine. It’s you who-‘

France breaks off.

‘I won’t.’ England says. He takes a deep breath in. ‘Not me. Not yet.’

‘I would be deeply embarrassed for you, if you do. It’s shameful. To a child, and one raised by Gilbert, no less.’

England snorts and smooths his thumb over France’s knuckle before he breaks them apart. He tugs down his uniform, wishing for gold trimming and a deep red coat, and smooth wood of a longbow.

D-Day unfolds in the muddied, darkened shallows of Dunkirk beach, and two empires watch the world turn over and into something new.

------------

‘Move over.’

France wakes to a knee in the small of his back. ‘A.. Arthur?’

‘Francis, move.’

Bewildered, France obediently shuffles over and there’s a gasp of cold air as England lifts the covers to climb inside. ‘What are...?’

‘Shh!’

France hears the heavy drapes around his bed being rearranged, then gets another knee in his back as England burrows down next to him.

France turns over. In the darkened room and behind thick curtains, England is nothing more than a source of warmth and the feeling of being watched. ‘What are you doing here.’

‘This is my castle, isn’t it?’

‘It’s one of your King’s castles, yes.’

‘Well then.’

‘But you weren’t here.’ France whispers, When we arrived. ‘He is very upset. He says you shame him.’

‘He shames me.’ England’s cool hands find themselves under France’s back, ‘The grandson of a usurper has nothing to do with me.’

‘Arthur.’ France cautions, but then stops. It is not the time, nor place. Nor, he knows, his place, really, to say anything at all. He places his hand on the cool skin of England’s arm and squeezes it, ‘I’m happy you’re here now. Apart from all the dirt you’ve likely tracked into the bed.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘I can smell it. You smell like outside.’

‘Outside doesn't have a smell.’

It does. Brought in to a human space where it doesn’t belong, the night air that clings to England’s hair and skin is earthy and cool. Fresh and foreign amongst wood fires and the fresh thresh on the floors.

‘I changed.’ England insists, seemingly having taken France’s lack of answer as an argument, ‘I do have nightclothes, you know. I’m not a savage.’

‘Hmm.’

England wriggles his fingers under France’s back to the soft parts of his sides and France can’t help but yelp as they tickle.

‘I was in York but heard you were leaving.’ England says, ‘Did you want to go riding before you go?’

‘We go Tuesday.’ France whispers, conscious of the servants littered about the room asleep. How England crept past them all or even got into the castle so quietly in the first place, he’ll never know. ‘We’re almost ready.’

‘So, do you want to go riding, or not.’

It is Sunday. There will be a lot to do before he goes back to his own lands, lots of packing and planning and then talking to people and France is exhausted just thinking about how much of it he will be needed for, let alone the voyage back across likely windy seas.

‘I don’t want to share. I want my own horse.’

‘Fine.’

------------

‘Here.’

England looks up from his laptop to find a cup of what might be soup held aloft before him.

France waggles it, evidently deeming England too slow on the uptake, ‘Take it.’

England does, cautiously, and moves his laptop aside to safety. ‘What’s this for.’

‘You.’

‘I could infer that.’

‘Could you? I never want to assume.’ Before England can tell him not to, France settles himself in the seat opposite. The booth England has hidden himself in has a wide table down the middle which takes up most of the room, but France moves himself into the tight space far more dramatically than is needed.

The soup is hot. England pops the lid off- carrot and coriander. His stomach clenches at the smell, he hadn’t realised how hungry he was. ‘Where on earth did you get it? They stopped serving dinner hours ago.’

‘I know. You missed it.’ France shoots him a pointed look, ‘I went to a café down the road.’

England looks down and swirls the soup around the Styrofoam. It’s thick, good quality. ‘I’m not paying you for it.’

‘Ah yes, because that is why I went.’

England glances at his laptop. France shuts it. ‘Now, whilst you’re eating, listen to me. I have a story for you.’

England takes the spoon that France offers and stirs. He wonders if France has any chocolates in his pockets, ‘Is it about the look Antonio gave-‘

‘Yes.’ France leans forwards eagerly, ‘But shut up. Let me talk.’

-------------

‘It’s... it’s large.’ The scientist at the front of the room looks shrunken, weighed down and wizened. He runs a hand through his hair, glasses glinting in sterile, overheads lights. ‘It’s large.’

France looks up and catches England’s eye. He looks tired, old.

Scared.

Question lights flash on around the room, every national and political delegation with something to say or ask. The scientist seems to freeze, overwhelmed by where or who to turn to first, and then people start shouting all over each other, nations and their politicians alike.

‘What the fuck is this?’ France’s president holds her hands to her mouth and shakes her head slowly from side to side, ‘This cannot be happening.’

‘There is nothing we can do!’ France hears the scientist say over the braying clamour, ‘It’s too late, it’s-‘

‘Francis.’ England is there, at his shoulder. ‘Come on.’

-------------

‘What the fuck have you done to yourself?’

France sniffs and turns away, ‘That’s none of your business.’

England snorts and hangs his hat and coat on the stand, ‘You look like you’ve fallen off a horse.’

‘You look like an unkempt vagabond.’

England looks down at his finely pressed suit and trousers and then back to France. He is on his sofa, studiously reading a book and not looking at England making himself comfortable in France’s livingroom. His leg is before him on a padded stool, swollen at least twice the size, and there is a purple bruise blossoming upon one cheek.

England comes around the back of him and brushes soft golden hair away from France’s shoulder. ‘I could do better.’ he says, gently thumbing the fragile scabbing of France’s bottom lip.

France swats at him, ‘Go away. I don’t want you here.’

‘Wrong place wrong time? Or did you try to speak sense again to someone who actually has some.’

‘Arthur, stop.’ France catches England’s wrist and kisses the inside, ‘You’re too unsympathetic to understand.’

‘Hmm.’ England kneads at France’s shoulder and then heads to the kitchen, ‘Would it help you to know I’m planning on telling everyone you fell ice skating?’

France lets out a bark of laughter, ‘Oh? And who on earth would you tell.’

‘Anyone who will listen.’ He collects a glass and a bottle of wine, along with some bread and some of the expensive cheese that he knows France always squirrels away in his pantry whenever he can, and takes them back to the living room.

-------------

‘If you could be anywhere, where would you be.’

Soft music from a Spanish restaurant down the road, warm ocean breeze. Anywhere and everywhere, all at once.

Besides him, England sips warm ale from a can he smuggled through customs and shrugs, ‘Home.’

‘That’s a boring answer.’

‘That’s the truest answer.’

‘And where again would Arthur go, if he could leave England behind.’ Francis watches Arthur from the corner of his eye, sees the fragments of him outside of all else that they always are.

‘I can’t leave England behind.’ England says, ‘So there’s not much point entertaining it.’

‘I’m trying to have a serious conversation.’

‘Then don’t ask a hypothetical question.’

Francis sighs, and retreats. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and watches the smoke drift away into the dark.

‘But if you’re asking time.’ England tilts his head, considering. Behind them on the seafront, students between bright club front lights in loud, drunken clusters, ‘Now, I think. Maybe a hundred years ago, at most.’

‘Really?’ France is surprised, ‘I would have thought-‘

‘Boring answer,’ Arthur says, and the rest remains unfinished.

-------------

‘Don’t you fucking die on me.’

Of all the places England expected to die, this was actually what he’d considered the least likely. In Calais, oft contested, right by the sea, and entirely calm. No war or battle to take him, no disease or crop failure to push him along. He can see Dover in the distance, his white cliffs so close he can almost feel them in the bones they represent.

But above them, burning and close, the sky roils.

France lies in his lap on the grass of his garden, eyes wet and smiling. ‘That’s not fair, you can’t say that to me. That’s what I was going to say to you.’

‘I’m serious.’ England swallows down something bitter and painful in his throat, and brushes the hair from France’s face, ‘You’re not allowed to go first unless I’m given that honour. Keep yourself awake.’

France freezes, eyes wide, ‘What-‘

‘I know you too well,’ England says, and dips his head to kiss him. There is a golden chain around France’s neck, old and reliable. On it hangs a much-used pendant, once again filled and ready. Still full, he hopes.

England fiddles with it in the hollow of France’s neck and sees the burning heavens reflected in his eyes. ‘We’ll go together.’

-------------

‘I love you.’

On a nameless bit of a terraformed Earth that might have once been a small kingdom in the northern sea, a man called Francis pauses at the hydro sink, half washed cup in his hands. A man called Arthur stands next to him with a dish cloth and when Francis turns to him, Arthur stares back, face inscrutable.

Arthur does not mince words. He has always spoken his mind frankly, regardless of how offensive or tactless his thoughts may be. He has never tailored himself to a situation, never presented himself as anything he is not. But softness and open vulnerability is not a texture he can wear upon himself. Not because he doesn’t have any, Francis knows, but because he expects that Arthur doesn’t know how. Some core part of his personality that gets lost from his heart to his tongue, or given spikes along the way.

Maybe that was what caught Francis’ attention in the first place, all those years ago on the transport ship to Earth. The parts Arthur kept to himself more than the parts he did not. Arthur spoke kindness and care in actions, not words, and words were what Francis had heard far too much of.

Francis looks away and makes sure to keep his face just as blank, just as unconcerned.

‘I love you too.’

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

The Taming of Man - Dragon-shifting Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

Ay Yo, Starting a series maybe perhaps??? Idk, felt cute, might delete later. seriously though, lemme know what you think, because I'd really enjoy writing this out all the way.

EXTREMELY BASED ON The Willow Maid by Erutan, pls listen for best experience, lyrics at the end are from this!

words: 1,958

warnings: cursing, blood, probably poorly translated German, reader is she/her and will be AFAB in the future if I write this all the way out

"Fuckin' Bluebloods," Katsuki grumbled to himself, waving the Pyre Pine twig he'd picked up, batting at cobwebs and whipping tall Acrimony Trees. The trees, true to their namesake, warped their crimson roots up through the maroon dirt to try and trip him. He had been in this forest a thousand times before though, and simply dodged them, hopping on top of them as his clunky boots pounded into the ground.

He kicked at popping Portobello's, their ashy and highly spiced spores exploding out with a crackle into what fittingly appeared to be mushroom clouds, and jabbed at the star-shaped Fire flowers, which attempted to burn away his stick with flickering flames and a high-pitched squealing sound. The good thing about Pyre Pines is that they were fire-resistant, so the flowers died without retribution.

Yes, Prince Katsuki of Forrmidūl was in a terrible mood, and it was all thanks to some rich asshole who thought he was better than him. He had met with the prince of Novia earlier that day, Katsuki's mother and Prince Tenya's Father hoping for some kinship between them as the people of their countries were viciously feuding. Sure, the guy was civil, nice even, but Katsuki hated the way he looked at him. Like he was a brute. A savage. He hated the way he picked at their nations best delicacies, scraping off perfectly good Portobello paste, and he hated the way he couldn't do anything about it.

The very remembrance of it made his jaw clench, his fists tightening. He wacked at a blazing thistle with all his strength, the wine-colored stemming tips of the petals shooting off into mini red fireworks. A couple went wayward, flying into the skin of his arm. Shit. They set off, causing wounds similar to ones you might get from being shot with a BB. "God Fucking Dammit," He yelped, gripping at his left tricep and scowling at the dead plant. He swung at it a couple times more, beating the poor thing to a red mess. It wasn't blood, of course, but rather crimson chlorophyll that all plants this ring of the forest contained.

You see, he was currently in the first and largest ring of the Farbenreich Forest, known as either Böse or simply Rot, an area many dared not enter. Sure, other countries sat near the outer rim of it, but none were brave enough to seek entertainment or peace there. The area was highly dangerous, as you could definitely see, and the only people who explored it were highly skilled Dragonborne such as the Soon to be king, Katsuki.

The rings of the rainbow forest went as followed:

Böse or Rot; the ring of Rage

Eisen or Orange; The Ring of Protection

Schatz or Gelb; The Ring of Treasures

Leben or Grün; The Ring of Life

Nebel or Blau; The Ring of Mist

Unbekannt; The Unknown.

Some called Unbekannt, the center, Leela, assuming it'd be purple and follow the pattern of all the other rings, but many simply called it Unbekannt because that's what it was; Unknown. Katsuki had read about each ring in books, craving to know what was in the center, but he himself actually feared it. He never went farther than the very beginnings of Eisen, something deep within him compelling him to turn back.

He sighed, taking a seat on a rock and making sure no moss was present. The vivid memory of traveling this place with his father and sitting on a rock covered in Magma moss still haunts him. If he could recall, he couldn't sit down without being in pain from the burns for a month after. He hung his head for a moment, regaining what little calm he had, and tried to figure out what to do about his little wounds.

They'd heal in no time, surely, but at the moment blood was trickling out of each little indent in his skin. he decided to take off his linen shirt, ripping off the sleeves. He wrapped one around his muscled arm, flexing after securing it to make sure it wouldn't fall off. He took the other one and repeated, adding two layers of protection.

He told his mother he'd go camping tonight, bringing nothing with him so he could truly rough it like he always did, but given the circumstances he decided it'd be best to head back home. He stood up, turning around to head back, before something reached his ears. What was that? The humming of a dragonfly? no, it wasn't dragonfly season...no, it was definitely someone singing. Singing like an angel. He turned to the sound, whipping around but unable to face it. Who the hell was in here?!

He finally pinpointed it, realizing it was coming from deeper in the forest. Dare he wander farther? He heard many a story of mischievous Faerie creatures luring unsuspecting men to their deaths, but it was all fiction. He just wanted to know what it was...who it was...

He hesitantly began walking farther into the woods, his attention no longer on abusing the flora. He stopped periodically to close his eyes, keying in on the sound to be sure he was following it closely. Before he knew it, he was already entering Eisen, The sturdy and squat mahogany trees practically forming a wall, a maze of sorts. Mind you, when I say Mahogany, I mean the color and not the breed of wood we know.

He walked as far as he could, before the grove became too tightly packed for his muscled body to fit through. He looked around, determined to move forward and find the source of the lovely music, before finally looking up. He immediately began to climb up the dense tree formation, climbing for a solid 2 minutes before reaching the top. He stood amongst the tangerine leaves, examining what was before him.

These trees were hardly as tall as Acrimonies, so he couldn't see far, but he could see a break in the amber foliage. He carefully hopped from tree to tree, the leaves and branches unmoving, thanking whatever deity blessed him to have this adventure in the fall when most snakes and other deadly animals were hibernating. He eventually was able to make his way down, already at the joining between Eisen and Schatz.

He looked down, the soft orange grass transitioning into golden shreds. He carefully stepped on the new grass, grass he had never seen the likes of before, and it crunched beneath his feet. Pulling back, He saw that it bent like metal flakes, curling under. He began to continue his trek inward, looking around at the tall and thin fruit trees that appeared to be made of solid gold or silver. They held apples made of ruby, blueberry bushes made of sapphire, acorns of diamond...even the leaves were made of paper thin shreds of metal. Everything was shiny, and it appeased his dragon brain.

He reached up, snatching an apple off its lustrous stem, something that would take the average man all his strength to do. Stuffing it in his pack, he continued to grab up different leaves and gemstone fruits. It was heavy, really fucking heavy, but he was compelled to take as much as possible. At least, he was, before stumbling upon a skull. A human skull. A human skull, who's body was crushed beneath piles of treasure. Yeah...fuck that. He immediately dropped what was in his arms, whatever dragon instinct that had enraptured his brain being forced to silence for a moment.

Besides, that voice was getting louder, meaning he was getting closer. At this point, he could just barely tell that the singing wasn't just a tune, it had words, words that hurt his ears to try and make out at this distance. He shook off the greed he once felt, forcing himself to carry on and simply avoid looking at the stuff around him.

This section felt like the longest because of the fact that he'd have to ignore his animal brain, but it was probably smaller than all the others. He finally reached Leben, the smell hitting him before anything else. He could smell rain, and fresh flowers, and dirt. It was earthy, it was floral, it was life. He stepped to the border, watching the plants fade from gold to green. All around him was green, he'd never seen anything like it.

The trees had spirals of moss growing up the sides, a cool breeze flowing through the flora and ventilating the area. Pink flowers, similar in look to the fire flowers, sat close to the ground, it's petals facing up to the sky. Katsuki watched as a fly slowly and leisurely buzzed past, before one of the flowers shot up and snapped around it like a shark closing its jaws. Good to know.

Katsuki trod through the forest, the damp and rich soil sinking beneath his weighty step, doing his best to touch nothing as he needed to stay cautious. As he moved along, the singing got louder, and he finally could make out a couple words. The ones that stood out to him were "man" and "Forest."

He had to know what this was, who this was. He didn't even realize he had been walking for two hours in total, nor did he realize that the end of Leben was fast approaching.

The air became wetter as he reached Nebel, and he could see the misty area ahead. It was as if there was a wall of fog, a marker for the point of no return. He took a deep breath, gulping a little. "Toughen the fuck up," he muttered to himself, before finally stepping in.

The second he entered the area, it was as if night fell. He couldn't see the sky, nor the plants, nor the ground. Only fog. Even with his night vision he was blind here, and it irritated him. He began to walk forward, keeping his eyes open to try and see the slightest differences, but soon found himself re-entering Leben.

The fuck?

He tried again, and again he was in Leben. He knew now why Unbekannt was Unbekannt. He sighed, closing his eyes. This time, he saw with his ears. He cued in on the beautiful voice, the tone, the words. He slowly began walking towards it, redirecting himself when the sound began to get farther instead of nearer.

Louder and louder the voice became, Clearer and clearer, Until he no longer felt wet fog on his face. He opened his eyes, and what he saw amazed him. The trees were full of life, vibrant with fruit and leaves of all colors hanging from them, wildflowers growing in hefty fields in all arrangements of hue and style, and best of all, the singing maiden.

She was sitting on a ginormous tree stump, centered in the ring of trees, washing her feet in a brook that shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow. Her clothes looked handmade, a sage green dress layered atop a tight silk button up shirt and a white flouncy underskirt. She had more clothing in a basket next to her, presumably to wash.

Song poured from her lips like honey, her face serene as she unknowingly preformed for her audience of one.

"A young man walked through the forest With his quiver and hunting bow He heard a young girl singing And followed the sound below There he found the maiden Who lives in the willow He called to her as she listened From a ring of toadstools red Come with me, my maiden Come from thy willow bed' She looked at him serenely And only shook her head"

you were mesmerizing. You were a faerie.

You guys don't understand, this is BARELY THE BEGINNING 😭 please comment if you want more, really I'd love the feedback.

Check the comments for extra info!

[nkogneatho]

˚｡୨♡୧ ˚｡ 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝒀 𝑴𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝑩𝑼𝑻...

@osamwah is caring like an angel

@xoxokirby is as sweet as cotton candy

@yuujispinkhair reminds me of swans in love

@desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi is that friend who cheers you on no matter how shitty life is

@mikage-rehoe is so cat coded i love it

@kitashousewife brings me peace like the greenest field

@saenora is an art made by god that he cherishes

@qichun reminds me of berries. epecially blueberries they are my favorite.

@tetzoro reminds me of the Valentine's because everytime i look at her, she is always filled with so much love and joy

@cosmicstarlatte is my favorite grape soda because she's sweet and tangy all at once

@sugumimi is as pretty as those white ribbons i always tie my hair with

@dabisqueen reminds me of thunderbolt. she is strong and so bright. she brings me strength.

@zorosdimples is a clover because i feel like everyone gets lucky when she appears on dash

@canwenotdothis is my favorite banana and avocado sock that i show off to everyone

@driaswrld is my favorite song who's melody makes me hop and dance

@devoti is my favorite orange cat because she is so unpredictable and unhinged but a sweet little thing

@papersirens is the comic book on my shelf that i rarely read but always admire the art of

@sachiyoh is my favorite milktea boba

@gojoest reminds me of the cerulean blue of gojo's eyes

@rizzmin is the blood you i suck off my loved ones when they're hurt

@snowberi is the prettiest sunset ever

@fuyuaika reminds me so much of pretty tulips i see down the flowershop

@kentoangel reminds of the cute clouds in a clear sky

@strawberrystepmom is fall season and everything autumn related.

@doobea is my favorite plushie

@half-baked-biscuit is my favorite holiday festival

@linpunny is a sweet and sour neon pink candy floss

@margumis is my favorite sentence that i draw hearts around in my book

@yuta-nation is as comforting as my winter sweater

@princess-okkotsu reminds me of saturn

@dreadsuitsamus is my favorite laugh and joy

@vagabond-umlaut is the castle built on a foundation of belongingness

@renhoeku is as strong and pretty as the ring around jupiter

@elusivemoon is blue hour on a chilly night

@bluberrimuffintop is rose quartz crystal

@ringasm reminds me of the constellations in a night sky

@sleepy3 reminds be of the color lilac

@moshimochis is a vanilla icecream that brings me comfort after a hectic day

@shoyostar is a planet that rains diamonds

@oreo-creampie is my favorite dark academia aesthetic

@gojo-mochi is my favorite sweet shop to visit

@nyimasu is a cherry wine giving me company on a lonely night

@moonlit-mizukage reminds me of rain

@vampgloss is the prettiest butterfly i have ever seen

@deskaisers reminds me of stargazing

@eros-lives is the night club i love going to

@benkeibear is my favorite cute lil hamster

@unknownspecies is a tiger shark

[stardewremixed]

🎆 Fireworks Headcanon 🎆

(And subsequently Independence Day ones since this is 4th of July where I'm from).

Alex- not really a big fan but would toss around the gridball on the beach while waiting for them to start. Super nostalgic about the picnic though. Used to do that with his mom. All the favorites (and Granny doesn't disappoint). Carries the basket out and helps her setup and even tries to get Grandpa George in the spirit by asking about his old war stories.

Abigail - loves them and would raid her dad's secret (illegal) stash to get the big ones to set off with Sam. Drags Seb into her shenanigans. Ends the night with a big bonfire on the beach, telling scary ghost stories. Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Not this gal.

Elliott - Earlier in the day, he's a bit annoyed by the sudden appearance of so many people on the beach. He wanders off to contemplate a poem about patriotism and glory. Might crack open a pale ale at the Stardrop before heading to the waterfront. He is a romantic so of course, he loves fireworks! Preferably in a little boat out in the ocean, away from the crowds. Maybe stealing time with Farmer (or if not in a relationship, with Leah).

Emily - has a little fireworks dance! Magic! Trying to pull Haley outside to enjoy but her sister won't budge. Emily is passing out little flags to her friends and neighbors. And she's decked out in patriotic colors, handmade bandana and hair bows and all.

Harvey - is too busy treating the idiots who set off fireworks and got burned to really enjoy them. Might start some "sparks" of his own if Farmer comes to drag him outside to enjoy. *wiggles eyebrows* They are far more exciting than fireworks (and something about these fiery lights in the night sky is romantic... or at least that's what someone once told him). Absolutely sipping wine coolers once he's off duty.

Haley - smoke messes with her hair and makeup and clothes and no... that would be a hard no. But she does enjoy holiday sales earlier in the day, stocking up on her favorite treats, athleisure wear, and cosmetics.

Leah - She's moderately interested in fireworks, and may feign more interest for the sake of Elliott. Wanders off into the forest to enjoy quiet. In honor of the "rebel spirit," she skinny dips in the Cindersap Lake and embraces "one with nature" vibes.

Sam - loves them! He's probably setting off the big (illegal) ones. Don't tell Lewis. Organizes a beach volleyball game, pulls in Seb and Abi, Alex, and maybe even Penny, but promptly gets distracted when he remembers he's supposed to rehearse for the official town ceremony. He also plays the national anthem (rock ballad style, of course), and tears up every time.

Maru - will try and explain all the scientific properties to you - how fireworks actually work. Robin will remind her not to bore you to tears. Demetrius is so proud of his little girl. What else is new? The smoke bothers her eyes a bit though during the actual show so she may just turn in a bit early.

Sebastian -gets dragged into shenanigans with Sam and Abigail. Slinks off to steal a smoke on a dark corner of the beach. Ducks out early to go watch old movies in the cool of his basement. It's too noisy and hot out there anyway. He would, however, be up for snuggles.

Shane - meh! Sells them at JojaMart. Would toss around a gridball with Alex first for kicks and giggles. Could prove his superiority in a hot dog eating contest. Probably burns off an eyebrow trying to set a firework off for Jas (and plays it off like it's no big deal).

Penny - enjoys them, but is busy trying to corral Vincent who wants to get too close and Jas who's a little scared (and upset about Shane being injured). Earlier in the day, she gets pulled into Sam's beach volleyball game. It's a good opportunity to wear her cute orange bikini. While she's always nervous about showing skin, today she's feeling a bit braver.

[shunin-gumis]

As Master Joe Wishes - Track 07

Seasonal Team Event - L4mps

Thank you Aca for handling this chapter!

Please note, there's a spoiler referencing Ryui and Toi's novels in this chapter.

Location: Manor

Toi: Have you passed the glasses around, everyone?

Location: Manor - Large Parlor

Nagi: Do I get the orange juice, or the apple juice? Or maybe I should try one of those fancy grape juices that rich people tend to have… Wait, does grape juice come in both red or white? 

Ryui: Oi, pick one already. Toi’s speaking. 

Toi: Uhm, not to be presumptuous, but I would like to take the lead for tonight’s toast.

Toi: Although it was short, these past few days spent with Master were truly special. I would like to wish her a happy life in Germany from now on. 

Everyone: Cheers!!!!!!

Daniel: Alright, let’s crack open this vintage wine.

Joe: Hold it right there, Daniel!

Joe: I would be glad if you are able to give me some upsies again. 

Daniel: Theere, Theere.

Joe: Bwahaha, I can fully see the top of everyone’s heads~

Toi: I also want some upsies.

Nagi: I too want some upsies through life.

Daniel: There’s no way I could manage that with either of you… Not to mention my poor back…

Yodaka: Now then, we can have alcohol after the mission starts. For tonight, shall we enjoy ourselves with some simple mocktails?

Ryui: Mocktails…It’s that non-alcoholic stuff, right? Lemme help.

Yodaka: Thank you. You’re considerate, just like an older brother. 

Ryui: Well…

Daniel: Aight, let’s play somethin’ I can do while laying back: the “airplane.” 

Joe: Bwahaha, this is so fun~!

Toi: That looks fun, it would be nice if both of us could do it as well. 

Netaro: I can shrink down you two into Joe-size, would you like for it to come true?

Toi: Eh, really?

Nagi: It’s better if you don’t If it’s Toi, I’m sure Ryui would carry you no matter how big or small you are. 

Yodaka: Here, this is for them, and shall we also make some for Samejima-san and the others?

Ryui: Yeah.

Ryui: Geez, it’s like they don’t have any care in the world.

Ryui: (Worst case scenario, I’m the only one who can protect Toi right now…)

Yodaka: I hope she can enjoy herself, at least for tonight….

Ryui: ?

Yodaka: From what I’ve heard, after crossing over to Germany, it seems like Joe will be put under strict management as a national treasure.

Ryui: “Management”....

Ryui: Ain’t that what the old man proposed from the start?

~~~(Flashback)

Daniel:  I have a lot I wanna say, but wouldn’t this all be solved if you just shut it in some bank’s safety box until D-day? Then you wouldn’t need us.

Joe: What on Earth are you saying! Even AI deserves basic rights~! I’ll have you know, our way of life is very similar to that of humans~!

~~~(flashback end)

Location: Manor - Large Parlor

Yodaka: I don’t know the exact details, but considering her net worth, it’s likely that she will be locked away behind a looming door. 

Ryui: Locked away…. Behind a looming door…

~~~(Flashback)

Toi: Ani-sama, help me… pleeeeeeaaase!!!!

~~~(flashback end)

Location: Manor - Large Parlor

Ryui: …..

Ryui: Isn’t there anything we can do about it?

She was all like even AI has rights or whatever. 

Yodaka: I wonder. Now that her owner has passed away and the situation with her ownership is ambiguous… They might not heed her own wishes in this case.

Ryui: ( “Ownership”... Fuck, it’s sickening how they treat things with a soul like they’re nothing.)

Yodaka: That’s why tonight might be her last chance to laugh and play around with us like this.  If we were to think like that, I can’t help but hope that nothing happens.

Ryui: You’ve…got a point.

Joe: Ryui! Where are you, Ryui~?!

Yodaka: I can handle the rest of the drinks myself, you should make your way to the lady now.

Ryui: Tch.

Joe: My servant, you’re finally here!

Ryui: Geez, no need to make my ears bleed. You wanna give me a hard time again?

Joe: Bring me to the sleeping chamber on the 2nd floor, right this instance!

Ryui: That’s all?

Joe: And don’t forget to bring me one of those candies you gathered. 

Ryui: Ah, that so? Hold on tight. 

Toi: Wah… A CG of Ani-sama carrying someone has been unlocked!  I need to see it in a first person POV next time!

Ryui: I always have time to do it for you, Toi, so just wait a bit.

Joe: Ufufu

Ryui: (Well… I guess I can let her have her way just for tonight.)

Location: Manor - Bedroom

Ryui: Here, this should be fine. Where'd you end up putting the candy?

Joe: I wonder where~ Let’s play together and find out!

Ryui: Haah? What’s up with that?

Ryui: I left Toi behind, so tell me where is it. I’ll get it for you.

Joe: …..

Joe: Hmph, fine then! Would you please open the window!

 Ryui: Huh? Geez, can’t be helped I guess. 

Joe: Right now, you must take that star and give it to me as a present!

Ryui: Huh?

Joe: You were able to remove the clouds before~!

Joe: It should be an easy victory for you to be able to grab that star~!

Ryui: Even if you tell me to get it right now, it’s impossible.

Joe: Isn’t your role as a valet to obey my every command!

Ryui: Guh

Ryui: (Just endure it, tonight’s the last day, this’ll be the end of it…)

Joe: Right now rather than the likes of Toi, it is Ryui’s duty to make me your top priority!

Ryui: “The likes of” Toi you say…?

Ryui: I decide to play-along with you, and this is what I get? 

Ryui: What? You think you own us or something?

Ryui: Just because you were owned and had no choice to do what exactly what you were told doesn’t give you the right to take out all your fucking issues on us.

Joe: …..

Ryui: …..

Ryui: (Crap, did I say too much?) 

Joe: I…

Joe: I already know that!

Ryui: …..

Joe: It’s not like I enjoyed being—

Joe: Kya!

Ryui: !?

Location: Manor - Large Parlor

Daniel: …!

Yodaka: A black-out? No, this is…

Nagi: Hm, I hear the sound of glass breaking…

Netaro: What’s going on, what’s going on?! Is this perhaps, an ambush?!

Netaro: I heard a sound from over there, onwards♪—

Toi: Please don’t leave me, Netaro-san….

Netaro: Hey Toi, I can’t move if you bind yourself to me like that.

Toi: *pants* I-I’m scared of *pants* the dark... 

Netaro: Hmm? Is this what they call hyperventilation~?

Nagi: Toi, calm down and breathe in slowly.

Toi: *panting and gasping*

Ryui: Toi, you okay?!

Toi: A-Ani-sama…

Ryui: Everything’s gonna be alright, I’m right here.

Ryui: I’ll never leave you alone in a place like that again…!

Toi: *gasping, panting* yeah…

Samejima: Is everyone all right?!

Hiramei: Is everyone here? Dontcha move! Brought in a light so I can check!

Samejima: Where’s Joe…?

Yodaka: Huh?

Samejima: Where’s Joe?!

Toi: Ani-sama…?

Ryui: Fucking hell…

Ryui: (All I could think about at the moment was Toi, I didn’t realize I left Joe behind…!)

[zukkaart]

I have an ideeaaaa

So I’m gonna make an Ao3 series each based on a Stick Season song, BUT to make sure they’re not just the same thing over and over, each one is going to have a different main plot device. AND I’m gonna let the people pick the ship!

So first come first served. Lmk what AtLA ship you want to see for what song! See below for songs and plots (links to the lyrics are provided)

Northern Attitude: four nations, four languages

Stick Season: I’ve been hiking all day and I’m absolutely NOT lost but uhhh could I maybe stay at your campsite?

All my love: PLEASE pretend to be my bf/gf this weirdo won’t leave me alone

She Calls Me Back: Soulmates have matching tattoos

Come Over: no I mean it you can’t come over my family is insane

New Perspective: A is deaf, B is CODA

Everywhere, Everything: Flower shop owner / tattoo artist

Orange Juice: I was dragged to this party and I hate everyone here

Strawberry Wine: first date

Growing Sideways: A is burning the candle at both ends, B has to talk them off the ledge of a mental breakdown

Halloween: haunting/being haunted

Homesick: what it says on the tin, A is homesick

Still: The first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your body

The View Between Villages: adult A gets snapped back into their S1 self via spirit world shenanigans

Your Needs, My Needs: love at first sight

Dial Drunk: A gets arrested, B has to bail them out

Paul Revere: I just moved to a new town, my apartment fell through. Help?

No Complaints: Amnesia

Call Your Mom: my family is more screwed up than yours, prove me wrong

You’re Gonna Go Far: At exactly midnight on new years following your 16th birthday, you get 5 minutes in your soulmates body

Please rb/comment so i can get as many ships as possible! Thank you!

[dujour13]

15 lines of dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Thanks for the tag @dragonologist-phd and @arendaes! 💕💕

“I don’t manipulate people. I just get them to reconsider what’s in their best interest.”

“The Queen gave me the reins, so I’m pulling them where I damn well please, and so far it’s been working. Tieflings want to join the Crusade? Fine, I have no problem with tieflings. I even rather like some of them. The troops want a barrel of ale and a victory party? I’ll be right there throwing up alongside them. An army of bards? That sounds good to me. Let the Abyss tremble before our mighty lutes. We took back Drezen. And that’s just the beginning.”

“What, stand back and sing rousing songs while the rest of you fight?”

“I mean collecting stories about degenerate aristocrats is our national sport.”

“Welcome to Drezen. Brand new city, ripe with opportunity.” Siavash surveyed the stinking heaps of rubble and demonic graffiti proudly. “Don’t mind the mess.”

“If I knight you, you can’t eat Crusaders. There aren’t many rules, but that’s one I’m sticking to. And you especially can’t eat Woljif.”

“I don’t think anyone in my whole life has ever accused me of being someone they can count on. But my heart’s in it, for what that’s worth.”

“And you know what bothers me too, is that mortals seem to be nothing but fuel to the machine. Just as Areelu snatched me from my crib for her experiments, we’re nothing but tools to a heartless universe, indifferent to our suffering.”

“Spend it. Wine, good food, nice clothes, new guitar strings. More oranges, if I’m lucky. Don’t need much more than that and the wind at my back.”

“You traded your copper coins for gold.”

“We’re committed. No need to kill the mood with priests and vows.”

“I won’t abandon my people. And my dragon.”

“Trust me. My crusade friends will be there and I may not look like much but I have, in fact, obliterated a couple demons in my day.”

“All right. Sounds like fun.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Tagging no pressure! @crows-of-buckets, @yunessa, @rollofleaf

[footballdesires]

the perfect surprise, mason mount ───────────────────────────────────────── pairing: mason mount, she/her summary: requested by anon the request: Hello, can u make something fluff with Mason ?───────────────────────────────────────── requests are open, request away! ─────────────────────────────────────────

the departure day for the world cup in qatar came faster than expected. with two days left until having to leave the home country to win the trophy, mason played with disparate ideas to prove his admiration to his girlfriend one more time. 

as the public relations manager of a large technology company, she couldn’t disappear for weeks to watch mason play for the english national team. her boss declined the request for vacation and offered her one day, instead of relaxing from the constant extra hours after the long shifts. 

so, mason found a way to express his feelings face to face before having to leave her in england. sweaty hands rubbed over the tired muscles of his face, glancing nervously at the silver watch around his right wrist. a present from her, a reminder that no matter where he went, she would be right by his side. 

the bright sun slowly sunk, cascading the hues of a peaceful orange and a calm red across the sky. between the cotton-like, white clouds, the tint of mixed color could have been painted by a talented, undiscovered artist. “mason?” the name, gently and quietly spoken, caught the attention of the football player. 

for a moment, he bathed in the sound of her voice. he didn’t need to turn around and see a glimpse of the female’s face, he recognized the tone between a million others. the hands pushed into the tight front pockets of the jeans, mason stayed in the same position. rooted to the green blades of grass underneath his feet, she slowly walked towards the male figure. 

she gulped down the breath that settled in the tightened throat, expecting that she has made a wrong choice or mason was truly displeased with a decision. he never easily ignored her if the two weren’t deeply in an argument. 

arm outstretched, the soft tips of the fingers desired to tap on his broad shoulder when she had the chance to see a glimpse of the little preparation made in front of him. frozen in the pose, the mouth fell open and the surprise conjured a dazzled expression on the face. 

head tilted over the shoulder, mason’s quiet chuckle didn’t reach the female. spread out in front of the football player was a large, plaid blanket. disparate sizes of thick, wooden coasters placed on the soft material, decorating the space further and keeping the kitchen utensils from falling over. 

two plates, one on each side. a large, light brown basket stood ahead of them and revealed the choices of food he made and a bottle of red wine, her favorite one. blinking multiple times in a row, she tried to take in the scenario without fainting or completely freaking out over such a romantic gesture. 

“did you.. like you know.. do this?” the words that stumbled out of her mouth were a mixture of various questions. she couldn’t form a usual row of words without pausing in the middle and start over, completely different than the first time. 

“i did.” mason commented, taking in the credit for the romantic atmosphere and the beautiful decoration of an usual plaid blanket. “the world cup starts soon, and we will leave england in two days. i had to make sure that you don’t forget, or replace me in the meantime.” 

the chuckle that rolled off his tongue sounded effortlessly, but the thoughts of being replaced truly bothered his mind. standing beside him, her head darted from the blanket towards the unfazed face of her boyfriend and back to the surprise picnic. the feeling of admiration mixed with confusion when mason stated his concerns. “i won’t forget you. neither would i ever think about replacing you.” 

the confession made his heart dwell with pride, hammering against the thick bones of the rib cage. “i really don’t know how i deserve you. you’re gentle, loving and most of all, you probably own the greatest amount of genuineness.” 

chuckling to himself, the amusement about her dazzled state disappeared underneath the softness of his voice. the head tilted to the side to look at her, he already found her still widened eyes staring at him. “what?” mason’s eyebrows were raised, the long wrinkles appearing on the forehead. 

she was shamelessly gazing at the dark-haired male, with the one-sided smile. “thank you for this, for loving me and for being such an amazing person.” 

“well, if you don’t stop the compliments, it will be much harder to leave in two days.” shrugging the shoulders, he was fascinated by the control her words had over his emotions. the anxiety vanished underneath the dwelling happiness, and relief. “it’s going to be insane without you. got to prepare to not lose my head after a shit game.” 

“you’ll be okay, mason.” she leaned into him, the red-tinted cheek placed against the shoulder of the male, the lids slowly closing with a smile. “but i’m better when you’re around. it pains me to leave you alone in england.” the confession caused the female’s heart to ache, knowing how difficult it must be for the football player to leave his girlfriend behind for a couple of weeks. 

since the first date, the two saw each other at least every second day until living together in a small house on the outskirts of london. mason loved the privacy, the disparate ways to leave the building with an arm around her, and enjoying the empty streets instead of the brightness of cameras. without a minute to himself, he wouldn’t have been able to prepare such a romantic surprise for his girlfriend.

“you’re my good luck charm, i need to kiss you at least thirty times until i have to be at the airport. one for each day, i could be away from you if we’re getting to the finale.” he lifted the arm and wrapped it tightly around the waist, placing the calloused, long fingers on the side of her hip. fingertips brushed over the fabric of her summer dress, stroking in small circles which were easily felt through the thin material. 

she didn’t answer with words, a slow nod of agreement was enough for the two of them. instead of talking further about the departure, she snuggled her face against the side of his chest. the scent of sweet vanilla and strong musk infiltrated the breaths through the nostrils, and caused the corners of her mouth to lift into a calm smile. 

“let’s settle down, enjoy the sun setting behind the horizon. the stars and the moon decorating the night, and still, nothing could be as mesmerizing as you.” the spoken compliments of admiration tainted the cheeks in a deep watermelon pink, and she couldn’t help herself but giggle softly. “you little charmer.”

[eretzyisrael]

By CANAAN LIDOR

Wearing a bright orange kippa, Ronny Naftaniel, a former leader of Dutch Jews, examines items at a junkyard sale in a village in the east of the Netherlands.

The eye-catching kippa is part of an initiative co-launched by two prominent non-Jewish Dutch actors, Huub Stapel and Hans Teeuwen, to protest antisemitism on King’s Day on Saturday. On that national holiday, Dutchmen wear their national color of orange in honor of their royal house, and many attend junkyard sales across the kingdom.

Baruch Van Riel, a Jewish wine importer from Baarle-Nassau, a small town near the border with Belgium, writes on Facebook that he wore an orange kippa to synagogue on Saturday.Stapel tells the Hart van Nederland news site that the hundreds of orange kippot that he and Teeuwen ordered for King’s Day are in demand. The team’s call for mayors to wear the kippot in solidarity with Dutch Jews has failed to enlist any of the mayors of the Netherlands’ large cities, he says

“I think it’s a little lame,” Stapel tells the Hart van Nederland website about the absence of a response by mayors amid reports that the number of antisemitic incidents in 2023 reached an all-time record of 379 cases, most of them after October 7. “It’s no political statement, it’s an attempt at connecting people so the country doesn’t fall apart,” Stapel tells Hart van Nederland.

[rabbitcruiser]

National Orange Wine Day

National Orange Wine Day is celebrated every year on October 6 but it’s always a good day to pop open a bottle of orange wine. Now we know what you’re thinking — ‘Orange wine? Like wine made from oranges? That’s neat!’ Yes, it does sound neat. However, orange wine is not a wine made from oranges. It has nothing to do with oranges. It’s wine made of white wine grapes that are fermented with their skins on. This is what gives the finished product its distinct color. Although you may not have seen orange wine in a lot of places but trust us, that’s going to change soon!

History of National Orange Wine Day

National Orange Wine Day was first established in 2018 by the “National Day Registry,” in an attempt to bring more awareness to this beautiful yet little-known wine. Now you may not have seen orange wine at your nearest liquor store or even your favorite watering hole, but this wine has roots tracing back thousands of years.

Wine scholars suggest that orange wine was first made in Georgia, Europe way back in 6000 B.C. What’s interesting is that Georgia is also thought to be the birthplace of wine. In the coming thousands of years, orange wine fell into obscurity. But a recent resurgence started around two decades ago when wine connoisseurs all over the world rediscovered this unusual type of wine.

The technical term for this wine style is ‘skin-contact wine’ because of the technique with which they are made. Just like all the other popular styles of wine — red, white, sparkling, and rose — orange wine is also made from pressing and fermenting grapes — white wine grapes to be specific.

To put it simply, white wine is made from grapes with their skins off, red wine is made from grapes with their skins on, while rose is made from grapes that have had their skin left on for a short period.

Orange wines, or skin-contact wines, are made with white grapes with their skins on. When the crushed grapes are fermenting, they take on a more tannic quality from their skins and pips, but also a deeper color. Most skin-contact wines are more of a golden yellow than a definite orange but many end up having a bright amber shade.

National Orange Wine Day timeline

6,000 B.C. Orange Wine Is Made

According to wine academics, orange wine is first created in Georgia, Europe.

1950s — 1960s The Downfall

Orange wines begin falling out of fashion in places like Italy as fresh white wines dominate the market.

2004 It Gets Its Catchy Name

The now popular term ‘orange wine’ is coined by a British wine importer, David A. Harvey.

2018 National Orange Wine Day is Established

The day is founded by The Real House Wine to popularize this lesser-known wine.

National Orange Wine Day FAQs

Why do people swirl their wine?

Wine tasters are often seen swirling the wine in their glasses. This may just seem like a fancy way of drinking but it’s actually done to release the wine’s aromas. People also don’t fill the glass more than a third full to leave a space where these aromas can collect.

Is orange wine sweet or dry?

On the palate, orange wine is big, dry, and even has tannin like a red wine with a sourness that can be likened to fruit beer. Orange wines can often be so intense that you might want to sit down when you first taste them.

Is orange wine expensive?

Naturally, due to its rarity, orange wine can be heavy on the budget. But apart from the rarity factor, the expense can also be justified for the subtle-to-overt depth and complexity orange wines possess. They offer a range of flavors that go well with different kinds of foods as well.

National Orange Wine Day Activities

Drink some orange wine

Make orange wine

Visit a vineyard

Scour your nearby liquor stores and trendy wine bars for a bottle of orange wine. There’s no better way to honor this very important day by drinking orange wine with your buddies.

Make your own orange wine at home if you're having trouble finding a place that sells it. Making wine is an art and it can also be incredibly rewarding. You’ll find plenty of online resources like Masterclasses, blogs, and even YouTube tutorials.

Take off for the weekend and visit a lovely vineyard with your loved ones. Breathe in the scent of different styles of wines, try the wines you’ve never heard of before, and get into interesting conversations with winemakers.

5 Facts About Wine That Will Blow Your Mind

Orange wine goes well with bold-flavored foods

Most orange wine is made in Italy

Grapes are the most planted fruit

Oenophobia

Romans forbid women from drinking it

Remember to pair this wine with Moroccan, Ethiopian, Korean, and Japanese cuisine.

Most orange winemaking is found in northeastern Italy, along the border of Slovenia in the picturesque region of Friuli–Venezia Giulia.

Grapes are the most planted fruit in the world and a ton of grapes can be produced to make 720 bottles of wine.

Some people have a fear of wine called ‘oenophobia.’

In early Roman times, it was also considered lawful if a man killed his wife if he caught her drinking wine.

Why We Love National Orange Wine Day

It tastes divine

It’s the natural way of wine making

It has a gorgeous color

Orange wine truly tastes like nothing else! Some taste like a light red wine while some can taste like a sour beer. There is a lot of variation in the taste but orange wines tend to taste more bitter because of the presence of a lot of tannins. Some common tasting notes include stone fruits like apricot, and dried fruits and flowers.

Orange wines are considered to be more ‘natural’ because their high levels of tannins mean the wine can be bottled without adding sulfur dioxide. It is often unfiltered, contains no fewer additives, and is made with traditional wine production methods.

Its beautiful orange hue is the most noticeable thing about orange wine. It can be the color of tangerine but it can also be gold, yellow, amber, and even pink. The color depends on the type of grape used to make the wine and how ripe it was, the time taken to ferment it, the vessel used to ferment it, and the method of extraction.

Source

[ourolite2]

　　　　　　 ༅ 𝒞irce 𝒴ué'li 𐙚 ˙

♱ all sobriquets + pseudonyms. ࿓ fang/master yuè’li ( legendary title + formal title ), circo/mr. circo ( playful + respectful, via yashmi ), sir ( his dogs + formal others ), sir circe/ sir yuè’li ( formalities/commonly respectful ).

ᰍ overall notables. plays an electric guitar (named it delune). has a bloodhound named babydoll and a doberman named yìzé. works as a part-time music teacher for 2nd - 3rd graders. asanbosam’s (the type of vampire he is) are more agile in trees and high places, so he’s kind of clumsy otherwise. often recommends products (notably the brand anzhong, originated by an upcoming oc of neso’s), random cleaning tips, or even seasonings. considers calling off of work a lot, though he knows if he does they’re bound to fire him this time. circe also doesn’t socialize too much, and he’s very territorial about his cottage (and so is yìzé— wonder where he gets that from). he’s a little too territorial actually, seeing as circe usually sucks the blood of/eats any trespassers that ignore his precaution signs. he does so by jumping down from the roof of the cottage or a tree and pinning them. (even friends get tackled if they don’t give him a heads up that they’re on the way!) ᰍ standard physical facts. 6'3. retractable wings with a 20 foot span, which are black and grey with red, pink and silver undertones, and retractable iron hooks for feet. tips of his hair turn auburn when he’s experiencing intense emotions. always smells like anzhong products- particularly colognes. has a chinese tattoo on his inner forearm that translates to damu héxián qín. his nails are painted black, but they get chipped easily because he’s really hands-on daily. lastly, he has a deep, relaxed and very distinctive voice which can be heard here!

დ genshin au notables! n/a ( temporarily ). დ spider-verse au notables! n/a ( temporarily ). დ jujutsu kaisen au notables! n/a ( temporarily ).

ᰍ age appearance. twenty-five ( 25 ). ᰍ birthday. may 9th. ᰍ nationality, race, + ethnicity. ( varies per au ), asanbosam, + senegalese and chinese. ᰍ gender, prns, + sexuality. male (amab), he/him, + omnisexual.

ᰍ sun sign. taurus. ᰍ MBTI. istp-a, the assertive virtuoso.

ᰍ likes. his electric guitar (delune— yes, he named her); playing the guitar is considered his biggest hobby, adoration and talent. his old doberman, yìzé, and his bloodhound babydoll. his cottage. alone time. blood oranges. ironically, loves garlic bread + garlic based dishes (especially pasta). scaring trespassers, or making his friends jump with jump-scares and shoulder-taps for a good laugh. coal black, wine red, and sometimes pink! strawberry icecream. philosophy and sacred music, especially within the selenian race. feminism. boots. silver jewelry. having his hands in aesthetically pleasing positions (pockets, behind his head while laying down,arms crossed, etc). anzhong products. people who use manners. sweethearts, but especially male sweeties (he just wants to pinch their cheeks ugh). MOTHAFUCKING INDIGO! <;3 ᰍ dislikes. random space invaders/leeches. too many home guests (or any really). yellow. stalkers/yanderes/yandere-coded people (specifically when targeted at him). pushy people. paranoia, pessimism + assumptions. difficult/slow learners (as a music teacher he struggles with younger kids that don’t process so easily). jellies and jams. the taste of vanilla. misogyny and misandry. bad hair days. getting stuff under his nails, especially when freshly done. vengeance, gossip + untrustworthiness. cooking for people, especially when there’s a lot of em’— no, even worse if they’re too picky.. bicycling. hot, summer days. being caught in the rain without a stylish umbrella. loud noises. dogs that bark too much.

･ﾟﾟ❥ quotes.

After It Rains ୨୧ “Jeez, what a mud bath. *Looks at his dogs.* Glad you two are out of your piglet puppy days heh heh. Guys? *Theyre walking away from him and he’s holding back laughter.* Was it something I said? Come ahhnn! I’m saying you liked the mud!”

About Jihane ୨୧ “The last time we spoke she foretold that my aura was yellow indefinitely. She was wrong. .. It’s red. *Looks off at something in the distance and pauses.* I’m not delusional.”

About Circe: Signature Dish ୨୧ “Nah. That’s a myth, just a little misconception. I use garlic in a lot of my dishes, especially pasta. The best kind I’ve tried thus far? Cherub Sin, easily. It’s a faultless dish. I personally believe the best noodle for any garlic and parmesan pasta is angel hair, and that dish recognizes it perfectly.”

Good Night ୨୧ “Hm.. Remember the night routine I showed you. Ice. Your. Face. Top priority, right? Alright then, and I bid you goodnight. *Nods off salute-like with two fingers and walks away.*”

oc masterlist. extended details. visualizer.

⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

[dasphinxone]

The Rescue of Riri Williams

I wanted some random Riri and Attuma interaction. Enjoy this! I may be a 'lil wine drunk at the moment, so blame that 😂

Riri disappeared from campus. One minute she was out grabbing a coffee with her dorm mates. The next, she was being mugged by two masked people and tossed into the back of their blacked out, unmarked SUV. Her roommate got shot but survived. She was understandably distraught.

The genius scientist became a missing person case. The community organizers refused to let the story die for a few days. As did Riri's mother, her family, her old neighborhood back in Chicago.

Until it mysteriously did.

Whispers on twitter talked of a government conspiracy. Someone's grainy ring doorbell footage was hash tagged #wheresriri. It showed a black suited, dark-haired woman with purple highlights visiting Riri's mother house with a cavalcade of unmarked black SUVS. SUVs that look remarkably similar to the one that snatched Riri.

All mentions of Riri were scrubbed from twitter after that. Her mother never set foot in front of a media camera again.

Then again, leave it up to the U.S. government to underestimate a Black girl from Chicago. They may have rendered her into custody at a black site. Forced her into an orange jumpsuit with the humiliating threadbare socks and suicide watch foot slides. What they didn't take from her were her kimoyo beads.

She refused to wear them on her wrist. Too obvious, she smirked at Shuri before she left her lab on her way out of Wakanda.

How else would you wear them? Shuri was rarely confused. So seeing her arched brow was a new expression for Riri.

The scientist touched the end of her braids before slipping a bead off the bracelet. She slid it up the end of a braid, feeling it automatically adjust to tighten around it.

GRIOT, how's my signal? She was still in the habit of looking up at the ceiling or sky whenever she called on the AI.

I can hear you without interruption, GRIOT pleasantly replied.

Shuri helped slide the rest of the beads into Riri's hair. After that, Riri never forgot to add them back into her hair after every new braid install.

Normally, they shouldn't work so far underwater in The Raft prison site. Except the U.S. Government didn't know how Shuri outfitted the Talokanil who wished it with their own versions of kimoyo beads.

Theirs were jade green with gold Mayan glyph lettering. The AI integrated with to GRIOT. Working AI Venerating Everyone or WAVE Shuri dubbed it. WAVE was the voice of woman, soft but firm. It was amusing hearing WAVE and GRIOT chat in Shuri’s lab as she brought WAVE to life.

A wandering pod of Talokanil out hunting along the east coast of the U.S. picked up on Riri's distress signal. They didn't realize the raft's existence because it wasn't too deep under the waves. Enough for a normal human unable to dive down far enough without being killed. But not deep enough to disturb the Talokanil, who preferred deep sea hunting in this area relatively close to the Puerto Rican Trench where their kingdom lay.

They used their current system to rush back to Talokan, Namor arching a brow at the news. He'd evolved; while annoyed the scientist could reveal his nation's secrets, he didn't demand her death. She was barely a woman full grown in the surface world. Her kidnapping was outside of her hands. Besides, Namor proved far more incensed at the existence of The Raft.

The surface dweller also helped save his people's sun. Freeing her from the colonizers' custody would be the smallest of debts he owed her.

"Destroy that accursed prison," he ordered when he met Shuri in her lab with the news. "The scientist will be be only survivor. Everyone else-"

"Dies," Shuri finished his sentence, gaze alight.

The bright vengeance in her eyes made him want to throw her down on one of her work tables and fuck even more flame into her. Only his wish for her to come him to voluntarily and without regret stopped him. He'd jerk himself off to fruition with his fantasies of her in the privacy of his hut back in his grotto. Imagining her burying her claws into his back as she writhed under him with her name a chanted prayer on his lips would do him nicely.

"Who will you send?" he asked.

Her hands furiously sifted through holographic scenarios of how best to breech The Raft from schematics of it GRIOT hacked off the NSA servers. Such tacky and careless security protocols these colonizers had when it came to their cyber infrastructure.

"Only the best, of course," she excitedly replied, waving up the profiles of Wakanda and Talokan's finest warriors.

That's how Okoye and Attuma found themselves leading Riri's rescue.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“It's cuffing season and now we've got a reason…to get a big boy…I need a big boy, give me a big boy….” Riri sang under her breath.

The chaotic aftermath of her rescue was certainly fucking with her brain. Riri blamed the massive trauma of being kidnapped by her own government for daring to sing such a thing in the enclosed space on this Wakandan airship with her previous potential killer in Attuma.

Which was why she let out a small screech when she felt the Talokan general drop down onto the vibranium bench next to her. She froze, swallowed and then only slightly remembered how to breath as he grunted out her name. What she didn’t expect was for him to ask her why she was singing.

Fuck.

“How in the hell could you hear me?” she’d slid all the way to the end of the bench. Staring down at the floor with her shoulders hunched in, her hands were clasped in between her bouncing knees. She nervously tapped her foot on the ground.

She absolutely believed Okoye when she explained how they married and how there was a now a solid treaty between Wakanda and Talokan. Still tho…

“You were singing,” Attuma shrugged, “Quite off key, little scientist,” he frowned.

“Under my breath,” she hissed, “You shouldn’t have been able to hear me…oh, shit, you a mutant, aren’t you?”

She couldn’t see his confused expression at the word "mutant" since his beads’ WAVE AI couldn’t properly translate it. After a short bout of silence, realization dawned on him.

“I am not like our god, K'uk'ulkan,” he murmured. She didn’t expect his natural voice to sound so human and deep. Or actually like he didn’t want to kill her. “My people are stronger than you surface dwellers due to the herb our ancestors ingested. Along with living below the waves. I can hear in many ways where you surface dwellers cannot. Such as your rapid heartbeat,” he reached out to point a finger at her chest.

Riri clutched at her chest. It only made her heartbeat echo even more in his ears.

A concerned expression came to Attuma's azure face. "You also smell of radiating fear. Careful, little scientist, or you will find yourself in cardiac arrest as your people call it," he reached out to place a comforting hand to her wrist's pulse point.

Riri vaguely remembered Shuri explaining the history of the underwater folk. Of how they escaped those dirty-ass, smallpox ridden, Spanish colonizing fucks by drinking some sort of mixture of a vibranium infused herb. It apparently gave them gills and forced them into the ocean to breath oxygen pulled from the water. Logically, heightened sense due to living in the seas would be one of their main adaptations. A need to survive the heavier equivalent of air from the water. Plus the stress of the constant depth pressure would mean denser bones, thicker blood, higher rates of their brain synapses firing.

In laymen’s terms? Yeah, elevated senses.

She still jerked away from his touch. "Sorry," she whispered at his hurt expression, "It's...I just been through a lot, you know?"

"Understandable. You survived long enough for rescue," Attuma drew his hand away. "You are a civilian. These sorts of things are not expected of you. You were brave against your tribulations. Do not feel ashamed," he shrugged.

Riri's expression was astonished as he continued, “Were you singing a song of victory at being rescued, little scientist?” He sounded amused but Riri wouldn't personally take a bet on that.

She blamed her adrenaline and sitting within proximity to her former enemy for the bark of laughter that escaped her mouth. However, she quickly held up her hands in surrender. “Look man, I’m not out here looking to offend you,” she squeaked as she finally glanced up and to her side to take him in.

His expression appeared genuinely interested. Dark eyes a little wide, he took her in with a tilt of his head. Due to his clear rebreather, she could see how his mouth was curled in question. His hands were empty, his scythe set on the ground next to his feet.

Riri shrugged and swallowed. “I was singing so I don’t have a fucking panic attack-”

“Should we prepare for an impending attack against you?!” Attuma growled.

Shuri startled at how his large arm darted out in front of her as a shield of sorts. It reminded her of how her mom and stepdad would always slap an arm across her front whenever they’d almost get into a car accident. The universal sigh of parental protection. That this giant blue man did it despite her extremely strong suspicion he’d never been in a car before in his entire life made her laugh again.

The pure absurdity of it all.

She shook her head in disagreement as she gingerly pushed his beefy arm away. “Again, bruh, I’m fine…we’re fine. I’m just singing a meme thing ‘cause I’m nervous…and tired,” she suddenly yawned as the exhaustion hit her with a wave.

“What is a meme?” Attuma narrowed his eyes.

Riri really didn’t want to piss him off. She suppressed another snort of laughter and shook her head. “Promise I’ll explain later. Just need to catch some shut-eye…sleep,” she simplified, just in case the beads couldn’t translate the idiom. “If you don’t mind?”

How in the fuck does his big ass move so damn fast?! her mind raced as he was suddenly gone from the bench. Before she could muse on it, she slumped and situated herself on the wide seat to lie on her side. A few moments later, she felt a thick, warm blanket being pulled over her. Another folded one was placed near the top of her head.

“Sleep, little scientist,” Attuma quietly ordered above her. She felt one of his large hands quickly pat her shoulder and tighten the blanket around her before he retreated. “No harm will come to you on our watch. My beloved wife will bring us all back to Wakanda upon this flying whale.”

Riri really couldn’t hold in a giggle as she pulled the extra blanket towards her to use as a pillow. "Flying whale." These sea folks really were something else.

“Thanks, man,” she slurred out.

At his grunt of reply, she suddenly heard his soft humming. She barely had time question how its notes curled around her with a caress before she felt herself lulled into a pleasant sleep.

Perhaps Okoye's shark man husband wasn't so bad after all.

[ardentguilt]

Ancestors Playlists

Putting these in the one post for convenience.

HANDMAID:

Ciara - Paint It Black

Blue Stahli - Corner

Eivor - Into The Mist

Blackbriar - Snow White And Rose Red

Digital Daggers - The Devil Within

Nostalghia - Nervosa Rex

Natasha Blume - Black Sea

I Monster - Who Is She?

SIGNLESS:

Riverside - The Day After

12 Stones - World So Cold

Icon For Hire - Too Loud (Acoustic)

Imminence - Death Of You

RED - Not Alone

Aviators - Bulletproof

Adam Lambert - Underneath

Sixx A.M. - Skin

SUMMONER:

Pop Evil - Footsteps

Slydigs - Light The Fuse

Nickelback - Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)

Billy Talent - Red Flag

Emigrate - Spitfire

The International Noise Conspiracy - Smash It Up

Skillet - Feel Invincible

Celldweller - End Of An Empire

PSIIONIC:

Starset - Waiting On The Sky To Chang

Celldweller - It Makes No Difference Who We Are

Gary Numan - Ghost Nation

Kasabian - Club Foot

The Bloody Beetroots - My Name Is Thunder

Offspring - Dividing By Zero

Celldweller - Symbiont (Live Version)

Blue Stahli - Throw Away

DISCIPLE:

CHELLA - Heart Shaped Box

Sam Perry - Only Love

Digital Daggers - Feel Like Falling

Iron & Wine - Evening On The Ground

Halestorm - Beautiful With You

Fit For Rivals - Can't Live Without You

Damned Anthem - Zombie

Metric - Artificial Nocturne

DOLOROSA:

Leaves' Eyes - Scarborough Fair (Acoustic)

Meg Myers - Running Up That Hill

Lacey Sturm - The Soldier

In This Moment - Joan Of Arc

Blackbriar - I'd Rather Burn

Nostalghia - Stockholm Syndrome

Halestorm - Heart Of Novocaine

Spinnerette - Baptized By Fire

REDGLARE:

Enter The Haggis - Year Of The Rat

Meg Myers - Searching For The Truth

MOTHICA - Absinthe

Blue Foundation - Eyes On Fire

Garbage - Vow

Bexley - Run Rabbit Run

A Perfect Circle - Blue

Fit For Rivals - Agent Orange

MINDFANG:

Blackbriar - Arms Of The Ocean

Temposhark - Little White Lie

Depeche Mode - I Am You

Margo - Repeat After Me

DEZI - Venus In Gemini

Malukah - Sinking Ships

Sister Sin - Stones Thrown

8 Graves - Eye For An Eye

DARKLEER:

Beast In Black - Heart Of Steel

Greta Van Fleet - The Archer

Adelitas Way - Dog On A Leash

Lhasa De Sela - Anywhere On This Road

Emily Jane White - Requiem Waltz

Sarah Jaffe - Two Intangibles Can't Be Had

Matthew And The Atlas - Out Of The Darkness

A Perfect Circle - Weak And Powerless (Acoustic)

GRAND HIGHBLOOD:

The Riggs - Devil's Playground

Egypt Central - White Rabbit

Heaven's Basement - I Am Electric

Emigrate - Eat You Alive

Five Finger Death Punch - Welcome To The Circus

Saliva - Ladies And Gentlemen

Ice Nine Kills - Ex Mortis

I Prevail - Long Live The King

DUALSCAR:

Bear Bear And Friends - LOVE MYSELF

Saint Chaos - Blind Spot

Inglorious - Barracuda

MISSIO - Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea

VUKOVI - La Di Da

Puddle Of Mudd - Control

Motionless In White - Wasp

In This Moment - Hunting Grounds

THE CONDESCE:

WE ARE FURY - Crown

Icon For Hire - Sticks And Stones

Innerpartysystem - Don't Stop

Nico Vega - Million Years

Recoil - Want

DeathbyRomy - I Kill Everything

Ive Levan - The Dame Says

CRMNL - Wicked As They Come

[boltedgarlic]

taglist~

you’ll have to use the search function unfortunately :( i am no longer linking all my tags. if you’re on desktop, my theme should have a search bar!

dated by year

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animals

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pets

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Ween

colors

red | orange | yellow | green | blue | purple | pink | brown | black | gray | white | silver | gold | multicolor

food & drink

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interior

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exterior/outside

backyard | balcony | beach | bridge | building | canal | car show | cemetery | chapel | chicken coop | church | city | clothesline | dam | fair | fence | ferris wheel | gate | highway | hills | house | iron gate | mailbox | neighborhood | park | patio | picnic tables | plants | pool | porch | road | street | tables | train | train station | tunnel | wind chimes | wreath | yard

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miscellaneous tags

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blur | edit | fisheye | flash | frame | glow | low quality | panorama | photo collage | text | timestamp | video | vignette | watermark

my tags

11:11 | baby tag | birthday tag | fav | grandmas house | magic tag | personal | thank you post

updated: 09/13/2024