#Wine Bottle Cover Online
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project-1000 · 21 hours ago
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The Art of Wine Gifting – Unique & Eco-Friendly Bottle Packaging
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sigh-tofm · 6 months ago
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if you’re their sugar baby… (18+)
… price
- absolutely spoils you. adores giving you anything you want. if your gaze lingers in a shop window, he’ll buy you whatever’s in it. you suspect he’s infiltrated your phone somehow, because anything you look at online will show up on your doorstep a few days later. he takes you to private jewellery fittings and sits back with a glass of whisky while the jewellers puts glimmering necklaces and earrings on you.
in return, he likes showing you off. regularly takes you out to restaurants so expensive they don’t even list their prices on the menu. spoon feeds you black caviar and picks out the correct wine, the bottles so old they still have wax seals on them. loves seeing you wearing the dresses he buys for you, revealing the fleshier parts of your body that the rest of society tells you to hide. always wants you to wear diamonds in your ears when you’re his date. nothing is ever too expensive if it’s for you.
takes you to a luxurious hotel after and fucks you good and well in the satin sheets. goes back to base before you wake up the morning after, and leaves a generous cash tip on the nightstand in addition to the monthly four digit payments transferred directly to your bank account.
… kyle
- takes care of you. a sergeant’s pay is low compared to a captain’s, but it’s still a substantial amount and much, much more than you make. enjoys having a pretty lady to spoil. any visit to the hairdresser or nail salon is on him. will occasionally request a specific colour for your nails, and you know it’s to match a dress he’s bought you, waiting for you at home.
takes you dancing, spends the whole night downtown and treats you to high-end street food at three in the morning. you get fancy cocktails and colourful shots and anything else you want to try. if another woman gets close to him on the dance floor, he makes a point out of feeling you up, splaying his hands over you wide hips and soft tummy.
takes you home to his and you both fall right to sleep, waking up past noon the day after. arranges a massage for you to help with your hangover. sits in on the appointment and flips your towel up to eat you out when the massage therapist leaves. reminds you to use the credit card he’s given you in between your orgasms.
… johnny
- whisks you away to scotland when he’s off duty. borrows the family cabin in the highlands and accommodates you both in the master bedroom, spending the cold nights in a grand bed with a heavy pelt covering the duvet. loves the fantasy of having a big, soft secret stowed away in the mountains.
spends the days hiking with you or takes you down to the coast, where you watch the wild waves and enjoy cottage pie in a local pub. asks for the finest whiskey, refusing anything but the best for you. tells you all about the history of the old stone kirk of the town over steaming mugs of spiked cider.
lays the pelt out on the floor before the great fireplace in the living room and grins when you mention the cliché of it all. remarks that clichés exist for a reason and pulls you close. your skin grows goosebumps in the cold air of the cabin, but the fireplace (and the rigorous activity on the pelt rug) warms you both up. lays with you after, smoothing his hand over your side and enjoying how your soft body gives way to the pressure of his fingers. pays for first class on your flight back home and gives you cash enough to cover both rent and supplies for the month. makes out with you messily at the airport before you part ways.
… simon
- takes you along to all his going ons outside of active duty. enjoys having a partner in crime, so to speak. in the military he’s a lone wolf, so when he’s off he just wants to have you for company. price thinks it’s a good idea for him too, to at least pretend he has some normalcy in his life. you oblige. he takes you to all his mundane errands; groceries, changing the tires of his car, walking the old bridle paths in his area.
has you tucked in under his arm when the footie’s on in the evening, trays of hot takeaway on the sofa table. if you can’t decide what you want to order, he has you list everything you’re interested in and orders it all. entertains your questions about football terminology and plays with your hair. pulls a blanket over you when you’re close to falling asleep and turns the volume down.
herds you to bed after a little while and so enjoys having a warm, soft body to put his arm around at night. to you, it’s all so casual and natural that you almost forget it’s an arrangement, but he never forgets to pay for your company according to your agreement and always tips generously.
doesn’t say it out loud, but likes it when you straddle him on the sofa and lets him feel you up and make out with you until he comes in his pants like a schoolboy.
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reverie-starlight · 5 months ago
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{nobody like you- momo yaoyorozu}
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I've been in such a momo mood lately, I just really needed to write something for my wife. I'm so in love with her she deserves all the best things ever.
fem!reader, no physical descriptions. slight angst but mostly fluffy. lots of yearning. reader and momo get a bit tipsy. teensy tiny bit suggestive at the end if you squint.
this is a part 2 to this drabble I wrote a while ago! reader is pro hero!momo's PR manager/assistant/best friend.
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momo doesn’t need reassurance very often.
she hasn’t since her U.A. days. for the most part, she’s managed to overcome her insecurities and losses and shine in the hero world as a very dependable and capable leader.
but still, there are times that she falters and familiar feelings of doubt creep in.
you walk through the elevator that opens into her penthouse apartment carrying a bottle of wine and some take-out. for the first time that evening, she smiles.
"hey," you murmur, settling next to her on the red chaise-lounge overlooking tokyo's night life. it's cramped, considering she's huddled under her fluffiest blanket and surrounded by pillows, but you make it work and she's so grateful to have you close. "how are you feeling, honey?"
the immediate comfort of having you near dissipates and she's reminded of why you're here in the first place.
she shrugs. she feels absolutely horrible about how things on her last patrol had transpired. it was petty theft, there's absolutely no reason she should've let him get away, but she got distracted for one second because a kid ran in front of her begging for her help with finding his mother.
and of course a lost child takes priority over a stolen bag of groceries in most people's eyes, but the cranky old man (who was objectively having a better time than momo), decided to go on and on to anyone who hadn't seen the sequence of events about her "carelessness" and "clear bias". even after momo offered to pay for his new groceries and then some.
he happily took her up on that, but still decided to rip her to shreds when a pretty penny was dropped in his wallet in exchange for an interview from an outlet that has been anything but kind to her.
she groans and brings her hands to her face thinking about the media coverage she's been getting all day.
you put a hand on her knee and stroke your thumb over it to soothe her. "it's okay, momo. everyone who really saw what went down has been defending you online."
she peeks through her fingers to look at you with a pitiful expression. "really?"
you nod enthusiastically. "mhm! and besides, everyone knows better than to believe anything those vile journalists say about you."
momo drops her hands and looks at you gratefully. it's true, there's been a lot of fans and heroes alike calling out the news outlet for it's recent criticisms of fan favourite heroes, some of her friends included. she thinks back to the messages she received earlier from midoriya and mina, and those she's yet to check from todoroki and ochako.
"and," you continue, pulling her out of her thoughts yet again "you have me covering for you. I'll take care of it, don't you worry."
that's right, she thinks fondly. I have you...
but does she? nothing else has happened between you since that day you stitched her up. no words have been exchanged about it, no more developments have come about.
she's going to reach her breaking point soon, she can feel it, but she's terrified of putting herself out there without anything to confirm it won't be for nothing. not one sign to confirm that you feel the same.
you're not making it any easier by looking as good as you do right now- you're not dressed in anything particularly fancy, your clothes are rumpled and your eyeliner is a bit smudged, but you look perfect.
and you have food. what more could she ask for at this point?
you seem to remember the bag of food when her eyes are drawn to it and you light up. "oh! it's your favourite, I figured you needed a pick me up. seriously, I've got everything covered, so let's just unwind tonight."
she looks between you and the bottle you placed on the floor and nods.
about an hour and a half later, you’re both tipsy and singing at the top of your lungs to whatever songs come up on your shared playlist.
while you take a breather, you watch as she lets loose. her hair is down, her shoulders aren’t so visibly tense anymore, there’s a pinkish hue painting her cheeks and she looks more carefree than you’ve seen her in a long time.
maybe that’s not a fair observation, considering she’s currently inebriated (and you are too), but the sight captivates you nonetheless.
she’s gorgeous. so gorgeous it physically pains you to keep staring at her, yet you can’t look away. (in the back of your mind, you recall a joke she once made about you being a masochist and you almost laugh at your own expense.)
the yearning you’ve tried so hard to push down hits you like a truck and it only intensifies when the song ends and a slow song takes its place.
panting from her performance, momo turns her head towards you, the wide smile on her face that morphs into something far more gentle than you can handle right now.
you stare at each other. the slow strumming of the guitar in the background seems to charge the atmosphere and you’re both left with funny feelings in your chests as the song goes on.
your queue really knows how to set the mood.
the amount of love you have for her holds you to the ground and settles uncomfortably within you, like it’s fighting to come out. demanding to be heard. you don’t break eye contact. you can’t.
her eyes, wide and shining, show hesitation and… longing?
could she feel the same about you? all these weeks of yearning… does she feel it too? is she… waiting for you to make a move?
she breaks eye contact first, shaking her head a bit in the very same way she does when she’s doubting herself, but you’re just brave (and drunk) enough to keep her in this moment with you. determined enough to not let her down by chickening out.
“I love you,” you blurt out, and your own voice sobers you up immediately.
her head snaps up, and she looks at you again, this time shocked.
your heart sinks to your stomach as you take in the weight of your words. did you misread her? did you just ruin everything? you wonder what you must look like from her point of view right now. scared? probably.
“I love you too,” she says. the way she speaks is soft, but full of emotion, full of comfort. there’s hesitation mixed in there, like she’s unclear on what you’re getting at, but afraid to clarify.
you begin chewing on your bottom lip nervously, doubt creeping into the pit of your stomach, latching onto your heart and squeezing it tight enough to restrict your circulation. your body grows cold as the nerves eat away at you from the inside.
this is your only chance to write it off as how you’ve always meant it- friendly, platonic, very much not romantic. you could play it off, blame it on the alcohol, change the song and go back to how it’s always been…
but you think of that day you patched her up once again, and deep down you know your heart can’t take much more of this.
“I know… but do you… do you understand how I meant it this time?”
her breath hitches. a wobbly smile finds its way to her lips. “I think so,” she whispers.
you step towards her, grab her hand and rub your thumb over the back of it. “I’m so in love with you, momo yaoyorozu.”
she steps forward too, wrapping her arms around your neck. the tension in your chest subsides and it’s almost like you can feel your blood flowing again.
“I’m so in love with you, too,” she replies, her eyes meeting yours, wobbly smile evening out and becoming much more confident.
your hands find her hips and excitement blooms in your stomach. “can I kiss you?”
she nods and immediately leans in to capture your lips with hers. you gasp and reciprocate the best you can while trying to keep your grin at bay.
eventually you’re both giggling and pulling away, standing in her penthouse living room with your foreheads pressed together, breaths mixing as you pant.
momo isn’t in need of reassurance very often, but a kiss really can do wonders for a weary mind.
she pulls away a bit and asks you a question you’ve only ever dreamt of her asking. “will you be my girlfriend?”
you’re pretty sure the way you kiss her as soon as the last syllable leaves her lips is enough of an answer, but you reply anyway with a mumbled out “yes, I would love nothing more, sweetheart.”
nothing has ever felt as right as this.
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BONUS
when momo wakes the next morning, she’s greeted with the feeling of you curled up against her. images of everything that transpired after you made it official flash through her mind and heat creeps into her cheeks.
if it weren’t for the dull ache and pretty marks in various places across her body (strategically placed to be covered by her hero costume, she notes) she might have believed that part was all a dream.
but you’re really in bed, and all hers.
for the first time since becoming a hero, momo doesn’t care one bit about what’s being said about her in magazines. she doesn’t care about what criminals she’ll have to face later on.
her whole world, the only person who’s opinion she’ll ever truly care about ever again, is right beside her, sleeping soundly.
her heart flutters as she traces your back and watches your nose scrunch slightly. you’re so gorgeous in the morning light. she’s always known this, of course, but she’s absolutely ecstatic that the guilt that normally comes with that thought is no more.
she thinks back to something you had said to her last night- something mumbled incoherently as you both drifted off to sleep- and a realization suddenly hits her and sets her ablaze all over again.
shaking you awake, she waits for you to open your eyes before rolling on top of you excitedly. she relishes in your sleepy giggle and the feel of your arms wrapping around her waist.
“good morning, pretty girl,” she coos, pressing kisses all over your cheeks.
you whine in response, screwing your eyes shut and she smiles. “remember what you told me last night about needing to get all that stored up affection for me out?”
you peek up at her with one eye, curious as to where she’s going with this. “mhm?”
“well I just realized that I don’t need to hold back anymore, either.”
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I’m soooooo happy to have this done and very proud of how it turned out!! idk why but I genuinely think some if my best writing happens when I’m writing for miss momo.
the song I had in mind for the confession scene was sailor song, mostly bc it makes me yearn beyond belief and that’s the vibe of this fic lmao. I wanted to name this fic “dripping in my favour” bc I thought that whole section of the song is very fitting, but I really didn’t want people taking it out of context 🥹.
I am so down to turn this into a mini series, with PR manager!reader btw :3
@emmyrosee here it is!! <3
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disasterofastory · 11 months ago
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A new adventure (Halfdan x Reader)
A new adventure modern!Halfdan x Reader Warnings: none
Summary: You spend the nigth with your ex-husband.
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The house is quiet and calm as you reach the bottom of the stairs. Your baby's screams still echo in your head. You are not even sure if he is crying again or if you just imagine things by now. Your head throbs with the pain you tried to keep at bay the whole night while you keep telling yourself that your son is alright and you don't have to go back to check on him.
He is asleep. He is fine.
One step creaks under your weight. It's loud and sharp. A heavy, tired sigh leaves your lips. Turning your head to the side, you listen.
It's okay, you think, relieved. Your baby boy is still asleep. It's fine.
"I will fix it tomorrow." Halfdan's smooth voice breaks the silence, drawing your attention to the couch where he sits, leaning on his knees with his elbows. The worried, stressful frown is still deep between his brows. "Thank you," you nod. "A drink?" "Do you have a beer?" "I have wine. Two bottles," you reply from the kitchen, holding the door of the fridge as your gaze falls on the bottles with the familiar logos. "I will take it," he sighs. "I thought so."
The lights coming from the kitchen cover the living room in a soft, orange hue. Your muscles melt against the couch as you sit down and hold up one of the bottles to the man next to you. "No glass?" He smirks, accepting your offer, though. "It's a glass-free household," you joke between two sips. The taste of the wine spreads over your tongue, and you have to close your eyes for long seconds to enjoy this momentary peace. "I'm sorry," Halfdan says after a while, making you jump when he grabs your legs to put them over his lap. His long fingers start to massage your sore muscles. His touch is warm and familiar. It's like a reflex that didn't die out of you even after one year. His every movement lights a fire in your lower belly. You almost laugh at it. "It's fine," you tell him. "Were you on a date?" He asks. "Yeah," you grunt. "To be honest, I should be grateful." "Why?" "It was horrible." He laughs. The man can't help but feel some satisfaction at your words. "Our baby knows when he has to get sick to save his mama." "He sure does," you hum, holding the bottle to your lips. "But I'm really sorry, you know? I should know what to do when my son is sick." Reaching out to squeeze his arm, you smile at your ex-husband comfortingly. You can see how devastated he is because of tonight, even though you know he did everything he could. "It's fine, Halfdan," you tell him. "Sometimes sick little boys need their mamas. You did everything well. Don't punish yourself because of nothing."
Not long after your boy's first birthday, you and Halfdan decided to end your marriages after months of struggling. It was quick and peaceful. Both of you wanted only the best for your child, and this kept your relationship away from useless battles and fights.
And here you are, after a year of your divorce, sitting with your ex-husband while your boy sleeps in his room. And you don't remember the last time you felt so content and calm, even though you are tired and still worried about your son's health.
"And what about your date?" He asks, turning his head to look at you. His fingers still work their magic on your muscles. "Do I know him?" "No," you reply. "I don't think so. I met him online." "First date?" "And the last." "So horrible?" You shrug. If you want to be fair, there was nothing wrong with the guy. He was nice, polite, and funny. "Boring." He hums. "Can I tell you something?" "I see the wine is starting to work," he smirks. He sees it in your eyes and the slight curve of your lips. You looked familiar when he first met you and asked you out on a date after two minutes of introducing himself. You giggled and said yes. "Everyone seems boring compared to you," you confess. "I have no idea how to enjoy a story if you are not the one who is telling it." Halfdan shooke up your whole world. He forced you to leave your comfort zone and live a little. He inspired you to start your own business, and even after all those years, he is still your biggest supporter.
Halfdan's chest stretches with a new wave of satisfaction when he hears your words. He remembers your first date. If he wants to be honest, he fucked it up. He talked and talked about his upcoming travel overseas. He was so excited. And you, instead of being annoyed with him or thinking him rude, listened and asked, and before he knew it, he was even more excited to come home to you. "We were good together, huh?" He asks but doesn't want your answer. He knows you were good together. Two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly... At least for a while. "Where did it go wrong?" "It was me," you reply immediately. Halfdan wants to argue, but you don't let him. "After our son was born I... I forgot how to be... me, you know? I became a mother and didn't know how to be anything else." You thought about it a lot, especially after your relationship got better and better after your breakup. He squeezes your leg and drinks from his bottle. "I should have reminded you." "Everybody should have reminded me," you grunt with the thorn still in you. Of course, you can't blame the others. Reminding you of yourself was not their job, but everyone made it so easy to forget that you are still Y/N, a woman, a wife, and not just a mother. "I'm sorry," he says anyway. "I didn't know it was so hard for you." "It wasn't," you reply. "I mean... I didn't notice until we broke up."
Halfdan opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. He can't do that, can he? Would it be too risky? Would he cross a line? Did those things ever stop him? "Let me take you out on a date." The wine burns your throat as you cough. A small drop of red liquid runs down your jaw until you soak it with the sleeve of your shirt. "What?" You croak out. "Do you love me?" He asks. Halfdan is not the type who beats around the bush. "I still do. I still love you, and you know our son is my whole world. You two are my whole world." "Why do you think it would work now?" You ask him uncertainly, even though you can't help but smile at his words. "Because we know what went wrong the first time," Halfdan replies. He is so sure of himself. "I wouldn't let you forget who you are besides being a mother, Y/N. What more? We could go and travel somewhere. Our son could stay with Harald, he is old enough, and Harald will spoil him. Maybe we could go somewhere new? Or I could book the place where we were on our honeymoon?" Your laugh shuts him up. Your eyes shine with tears. "And here you are, already planning for a new adventure." "Please tell me you will come with me."
He holds up his hand for you to take it, and when you do, he kisses the back of your hand.
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ivoirerose · 10 months ago
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lessons in loss | charles leclerc
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summary: reflections on the end of a relationship.
it’s quiet when you get home. there is no warm greeting, no music softly playing in the background, no out-of-tune humming from the kitchen. your heart aches as it takes you just a second to realise that you’re not really home, not anymore. without those sounds, this is just a house.
you try to force your eyes to skim over the empty spaces he left behind. the bare corner where his piano once proudly stood, the faded spot on the wall where his overpriced art sat, the bare cushion his jacket was usually slouched over. it doesn’t work, and you find yourself staring, wondering how the absence of him is almost more overwhelming than his presence ever was.
despite not being here anymore, he’s more here than ever, in the gaps he’s left behind.
you can’t help but wonder where it all went wrong, how a couple so vibrant and sure, so full of love and promise and laughter, became this.
maybe it was the first time he cancelled date night, a rushed apology and a flimsy excuse hastily mumbled down the phone line. by the third time he missed date night, there wasn’t even a call, just a text.
you’d brushed it off, because of course his career was important, and meetings were a huge part of that, and you wanted to be supportive so bad, but each cancelled reservation, each carefully planned outfit thrown to the back of the wardrobe, each bottle of wine opened alone dug the knife in a little deeper until you’d stopped trying to schedule date night at all.
he hadn’t even noticed.
or maybe it was the first time you’d caught his wandering eye, the sting of it sharp after years of constant reassurance and steadfast faith in your relationship. he’d always told you that you were the only one for him, that no one could ever compare, and you’d had no reason to doubt him until that slip.
after that, you held your breath each time his phone pinged, each time he stayed with a friend, each time he slunk out the door, hair styled to perfection, wearing an outfit you were sure he’d never worn before. your suspicion grew like ivy until you were tangled in its vines.
or maybe it was the comments, once so easy to ignore but now glaring at you from under each post. you weren’t immune to your flaws, but to have them so plainly stated as a reason for just why you didn’t deserve him started to take its toll, until you simply stopped sharing your life online at all.
he’d never once thought to defend you.
if you were honest with yourself though, you know exactly when it happened, when the future you’d so carefully and excitedly planned shattered into unrecognisable shards.
a simply sunday morning. all he’d done was wake up, soft groan escaping as he stretched before pushing back the covers and making his way to the bathroom. the lock clicked behind him and that was that.
he hadn’t said good morning. through every hardship, every fight, every low and every high, he’d never failed to say those words, to acknowledge you in those quiet hours, voice soft with sleep. he’d never failed to recognise you beside him, to so easily reassure you that no matter what, it was you he was happy to wake up next to.
until that morning. you don’t even think he’d looked at you. and it wasn’t intentional. it wasn’t cruel or mean or pointed. it just was. he’d awoken, and you hadn’t been the first thing on his mind, hadn’t even been a thought at all.
by the time the shower turned off, you were gone.
he hadn’t fought it. no heartfelt apologies, no tears or begging, no flowers, no promises to change, to do better. you think that’s what hurt most of all.
he’d accepted it with ease, moving his things out and disappearing from your life like he’d never been there. except he had, and while he grinned on your screen from the top step of the podium, you drowned your sorrows and toasted to the man you’d once wanted to give everything.
you briefly wonder if he’d looked for you in the crowd, before realising how foolish that was. the only thing charles ever wanted was right there in his hand, trophy held tight as he sipped champagne.
you hope he wins the championship this year. you hope he finally gets what he’s always dreamed about, and you hope once he does, he realises everything he’s sacrificed to get there, and even if just for a moment, he feels as empty as you do right now.
you know he won’t.
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avocado-writing · 1 year ago
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Hey 👋🏻 i just finished rewatching both seasons of good omens 🥲 can i request an ineffable husbands x r with an established relationship? after a night out they go back to the bookshop and r is pissed drunk so aziraphale and crowley tries to help them get comfortable and get settled but r keeps saying “back off i have partners.” and things like that because they’re too drunk to recognize the two which amuses them both. i read something similar online and thought it would be funny with the husbands. thank you so much ❤️
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notes: put this once again in tltdatsib, hope that's ok! also yall: anyway nightingale is drunk / me: YES lmfao
pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale
rating: T
notes: excessive alcohol consumption; gn reader but one reference to them being a primadonna; tltdatsib-verse
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You’re all quite drunk.
The three of you are all impartial to a glass of wine or six after a nice day. Usually you can hold your liquor quite well, but you underestimated the vintage, and now you’re absolutely off your face. Crowley and Aziraphale are happy to sober up the miraculous way, the alcohol returning to its bottle, but you absolutely despise it happening to you and they’d never do it without your permission. So there you are, head-lollingly, body-flailingly drunk on the sofa in the back of the bookshop.
“Come on love, let’s get you to bed,” Crowley says, attempting to heave you into his arms. You push him away and make a low noise in the back of his throat. 
“Did… did you just growl at me?” he asks, both delighted and bemused; torn between actually trying to help you or recording this on his phone so that he can tease you mercilessly tomorrow. 
"My love - " begins Aziraphale, but you glare at him the best you can while barely being able to hold your head up.
“Oi! Back ‘ff sunshine,” you say, holding your hand up and wiggling your fingers, “‘m married! My husbands—spousesssss—won’t be too happy ‘f you chat me up!”
Aziraphale and Crowley exchange a look. You’ve not been this drunk since the three of you were invited to the Diamond Dogs release party in the seventies. Your hangover had lasted a week. 
“Darling,” says Aziraphale with a patient sigh, “we’re your husbands… spouses… oh, look, it’s us!”
"No-oo-oo! Lies! Won't be taken in by handsome strangerssss!" you cry, a primadonna of a show only you can see. You try to launch yourself across the couch for safety but get your foot stuck between two seat cushions.
"'Handsome', eh?" Crowely asks, grinning very wide indeed.
"Yessss, handsome! Very! But 'm TAKEN."
Aziraphale sighs, both wanting this charade to be over and charmed that even when you're too blotto to recognise them, you still find your husbands attractive.
"Look, let me show you proof, darling."
You squint, suspiciously. 
“Eh?”
Aziraphale reaches into his coat pocket to bring out his wallet. It has no cards or cash, nothing that one would actually need a wallet for - but he keeps it for one very particular reason. 
He flips open the leather and holds it out for you to inspect. It has a photo in it: a polaroid, taken for you by a kind passerby on the day of your wedding. It’s of the three of you, arms around each other, all smiling the widest in any photo where you are the subjects. You take it from his hands, scrutinise it, then cringe.
“Oh god, ‘m ‘n idiot…”
You collapse back into the sofa, letting your arm remain in its place so Aziraphale can take the precious wallet back safely. 
"It's alright nightingale. You're just a bit tipsy is all, my love."
"You're so kind to me even when 'm bein' silly..."
"For better for worse. For drunker, for sober...er," Crowley reasons.
“Should go t’ sleep…” you mutter, and before they can help you up, you turn over to face the pile of pillows and immediately make good on that threat. They cover you with a blanket, and Crowley does tease you the next morning.
-
@angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound
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fakeagatha · 2 years ago
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Mrs Fletcher | Prof!Eve Fletcher x Fem!Reader | Chapter Two: Drink
Summary: You and Eve separately meet up with your friends and throw your thoughts away with alcohol.
A/N: I've finally completed it! I deeply apologize for the delay. Please let me know if you spot any grammatical errors or typos!
Warnings: Alcohol, Implied NSFW
Word Count: 1166
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You woke up to your alarm buzzing, not even remembering when you had fallen asleep in the first place. You do, however, remember that dream you had with Eve. You felt disgraceful to have even let your brain imagine such things without reason.
You groaned, rolling out of bed as you did NOT feel like getting up today. It's still only the middle of the week!
You lazily washed up in the bathroom, before throwing on something from your closet and grabbing your bag. You were hoping today would go smoothly, and you wouldn't have to deal with any general bullshit from entitled professors.
Not even five minutes since you got in, you were dealing with bullshit from entitled professors. Her name was Miss Evanora, and it was like a tradition to find something to complain about on students' papers, simply because she enjoyed causing them problems.
"Miss L/N, why did you put your name on the right? As I've specified thousands of times, I want your name on the left, and the date on the right! She complained, after stopping you in the hallway and shoving the paper in your face.
You tried not to roll your eyes, "I apologize." You took out a pen, scribbling on the paper in front of you and switching the name and date around. She would also complain about scribbles being on the paper, but you went your own way before she had the chance to say anything.
Eve glanced up from her coffee cup as she was standing in the hallway, just so happening to overhear the conversation. She spoke up when she saw you walking past. "Don't pay too much attention to her," she said, making you jump.
You looked up at her, "She does similar things in the office, too." She added.
You blinked, why she talking about her co-workers to a student?
"I'll keep that in mind, professor." You chuckled and nodded before walking away.
OH GOD.
'She's so mesmerizing! I could honestly listen to her talk and look into her eyes forever!' You thought, how cheesy.
You spent the rest of the day in your classes daydreaming, about the way your teacher looks at you when she talks to you, or the way she grins when listening to you.
Little did you know, Eve also felt the same way about you. It wasn't a crush, of course, that would be despicable, but she always smiled to herself when she would see you doing simple things, such as smiling at your phone or being plain stupid with your friends.
But being who she is with her internet porn addiction, she let's her curiosity take over her and looks up some videos featuring fake teachers and students when she got home later that day.
So that's how she found herself, laying on her bed, the covers up to her waist and her laptop on her thighs, as she scrolled through the Teacher-Student category online. She wasn't really thinking anything dirty at the moment, like always she was just curious, finally letting herself go and explore as she thought she wasn't allowed for so long.
You on the other hand, sat in your dorm room looking at the photo taken of you and Eve yesterday, with the facial expression of a complete idiot.
'So embarrassing...' You thought, 'How many people saw us?! But holy shit that was so sweet of her...'
You smiled like a lovesick teenager, but the difference was you didn't like her, you just... admired her, would be the right word.
You continued scrolling through your phone, when your door knocked.
"Yeah?" You asked, approaching the handle.
"It's me," You heard a voice,
"Who's me?" You asked again.
"You don't know your best friends voice by now?"
You opened the door for him, and he grinned at you, opening his bag and showing two bottles of wine.
You sighed, "come on then Steve." Moving aside to let him in.
He skipped over to your bed and threw the bag on, surprisingly not smashing anything, as he sat down and immediately cracked one open.
"Uhm, what's the occasion?" You watched him as he drank straight from the bottle.
He shrugged, "I figured we could take a break, from everything... Uni can be stressful." He said before chucking over the other bottle to you.
"Christ, be careful!" You gasped, catching the bottle in your hands. "If I hadn't caught that, you'd be cleaning the mess up."
Steve scoffed, "Come on, I threw it across the bed! Even if it fell, it would just fall onto the sheets!"
You popped open your bottle, and started sipping on it, watching your friend drink it a lot faster. "Slow down, I don't want you getting drunk already!"
He simply laughed at you "I won't, don't worry!" He grinned.
Meanwhile, Eve had gotten bored, and had decided to call up her coworker, Amanda, for a drink.
Amanda worked part time at the same university as Eve, since the Senior Home she works full time at was starting to pay less, due to the fact that they were loosing business.
The past between the two of them was mostly forgotten, said past being a few hookups. Despite everything, they had decided to just remain friends, and go their own ways with romance.
"So, anything fancy going on in your life?" Amanda asked Eve, sipping on her wine.
"Well, you know, the usual, breaking up fights in the hallways, grading papers, nothing new. Your life at the Senior Home is probably more interesting than mine." She replied.
Amanda scoffed, "You break up fights, I clean up old people shit. What's better?" She laughed.
Eve smiled before speaking up. "Have you ever felt... Weird about one of your clients or coworkers?" She asked her friend hesitantly.
Amanda thought for a moment, "Apart from what was going on between us, I don't think anything else has really happened. Why do you ask?" She smirked.
"You know... Favoring my students..." Eve mumbled, while Amanda almost choked on her drink.
"You have a crush on your student?!" She exclaimed.
Eve gasped, "No, no! She's just, different from the others in my classes. I can't be attracted to a student, that's not allowed!"
Amanda cleared her throat, "Status wise, it may be illegal, age wise, it's not. Everyone in that school is at least nineteen by now."
Eve shrugged, looking away thoughtfully. "I think she's in her early twenties... Either way, I don't like like her, she's just a very capable student."
Amanda looked at her before nodding, "Well alright then."
In the meantime, you were feeling quite tipsy with Steve, laughing at really stupid things, and blurting out weird remarks.
"You know, I think I have a crush on my teacher!" You laughed.
"I know! Took you long enough to realize!" Steve replied, swaying as he smacked your shoulder.
You cackled, "I finally said it!" You cheered.
Maybe you regretted taking that wine.
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Text
From the Outside
The Afton-Herrera household as seen from the perspectives of a judgey teacher, nosy script writers, and gossipy kids looking for a podcast topic.
Time Set: Post-SB, Pre-Ruin
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Three hours in and Mrs. Feldman was ready to escape via the window rather than have to deal with another set of parents who would insist their kid was a perfect little angel and do nothing to help her resolve situations. Being a teacher was equal parts rewarding and demoralizing; some days there was more of one feeling over the other and she never knew what ratio she’d get until she got it.
Parent-Teacher Nights were her bane, but she was finally on the last appointment with her newest student and his guardians. If she could survive this, there’d be a nice chilled bottle of wine with her name on it back home. With a deep breath, she settled herself as best she could and then buzzed in the final appointment.
The door to her classroom opened after a few minutes, letting in the young woman she had met on enrollment day, Ms. Afton, of unfortunate relation to the founders of Afton Robotics which had recently been caught up in yet another short-lived scandal. Following her in was her sulking son, Gregory, the subject of tonight’s chat, and then following him in was someone Mrs. Feldman didn’t recognize, a young man with a tired look to him, like he’d just been pulled out of a long day at work to sit in on this meeting without a break in between. She could sympathize with that; maybe he was thinking of a drink at home for himself, too?
“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Afton,” Mrs. Feldman greeted her warmly before glancing towards the man expectantly. She couldn’t remember now if she’d been told that the young woman was married. Afton was her maiden name, wasn’t it? Then did her husband take on her name instead? It wasn’t unheard of but this would be the first time she’d encounter such an odd take on family naming.
“Um, it’s Miss,” Miss Afton corrected sheepishly, her cheeks pink at the faux pax, “I’m not married.”
“Oh! I’m sorry for assuming so,” Mrs. Feldman quickly tried to backtrack embarrassedly, ignoring the little snort from Gregory. She glanced at the unknown man again in time to catch him mid-eyeroll. A flicker of annoyance shot through her mind before she reminded herself that this was Miss Afton’s first Parent-Teacher meeting so of course more of the family would show up rather than be present at Gregory’s enrollment. But an introduction would be nice, so why wasn’t he speaking up? “Then this must be-?” she asked leadingly. Boyfriend? Fiancé? ...Flavor of the week?
“This is Sydney Herrera, my best friend!” Miss Afton introduced brightly, smiling over at the silent man staring at Mrs. Feldman. The teacher twitched just a little, a tiny bit. Why was he staring? What was wrong with him? “We co-parent so I thought it’d be fine to bring him along,” Miss Afton went on without a care in the world.
“Coulda brought Freddy, instead,” Gregory muttered grumpily. Neither his mother or the ‘other parent’ reacted to his words.
Mrs. Feldman could feel her stress levels rising. Maybe this was going to be worse than those in-denial parents after all?
“This is my first Parent-Teacher meeting, so I went looking online for some guidelines on how these are supposed to go,” Miss Afton added, digging through her purse before pulling out a small binder with several pages stuck inside, a label slapped on the cover reading ‘Manual for Parent-Teacher Nights’. She opened it and flipped through some of the papers while Mr. Herrera gave her an exasperated look and then shared it with Gregory, the boy just raising an eyebrow at him and folding his arms over his chest. “According to the manual, we go over his grade progress, social progress, discuss any problems with regards to class behaviors and/or schoolwork, then map out solutions to resolve said problems and generate a follow-up meeting to evaluate post-solution status,” Miss Afton declared in a proud tone.
Yes, stress levels would certainly rise with this one. Pretty face, empty head; no wonder this Mr. Herrera was latched to her. Friend-zoning probably wasn’t a problem for him, Mrs. Feldman thought sourly.
Well, she still had a job to do, and she’d do it to the best of her ability. Not her fault Miss Afton was clearly in over her head at parenting. But with how old Gregory appeared to be and how young Miss Afton looked, it was clear that there was a lot Miss Afton didn’t know about the world and people in general. Tragic.
“Alright, so in terms of grades and schoolwork, Gregory does hold a relatively average score for reading, writing, and history,” Mrs. Feldman began, looking over her notes and examples of the boy’s work while Miss Afton listened attentively. “His scores for math and science are above average, so he does have strengths and interest in some subjects. It’s just that he seems to.. let his mind wander often. As if he can’t keep his attention on anything that isn’t of interest to him.”
“Is that a problem?” Miss Afton asked and she sighed at the question. Typical clueless mother type. “He does his work and his grades aren’t failing, right? I mean they could be better and I’ll talk with him about that but him zoning out between tasks…”
“I wouldn’t be tuned out if she let me draw while she’s talking,” Gregory piped up with a petulant shrug, “Drawing lets me get stuff in my head out so I can focus on this world.”
That was the same excuse he gave her for making those strange doodles about the defunct pizzeria and creepy robot animals. Mrs. Feldman expected the same frustration about it from Miss Afton, but the young woman just gave her son a sympathetic look. Great, so she’s why Gregory behaved in such a manner.
“What you draw might confuse people, Gregory,” Miss Afton told him, “But if you need to do something with your hands, we can ask Mr. Woods if he has a spare fidget cube you can have.”
“Cassie is okay with my comics,” Gregory countered with a huff, “She thinks it’s kind of weird but she’s not confused by it.” He paused for a moment, then sighed, “But fine, we can ask Mr. Woods about it. At least Alex won’t flip his shit if it’s just Mr. Woods we talk to.”
“That’s something else I’d like to speak to you about,” Mrs. Feldman brought up, shaking her head at Gregory’s crudeness, “Gregory’s language is not acceptable. He uses a lot of swear words and vulgarities. Such rude language isn’t tolerated in this classroom or this school.”
“That tends to be normal for Gregory,” Miss Afton sighed in exasperation and looked to her son, “Could you tone it down for school at least?” Gregory made a face at her. Mrs. Feldman was not impressed with the display.
“It would probably be better if we knew where he was learning such language and removed that bad influence,” she suggested to Miss Afton. Clearly the young woman was too innocent to have taught her son these behaviors so the only influence that could be responsible was…. Mrs. Feldman snuck another look at Mr. Herrera who only looked back at her with a deadpan expression. Still unresponsive to everything? Probably didn’t even think he had any responsibility for a kid that wasn’t his. “Do you have anything to say about this, Mr. Herrera?” she asked him crisply.
The man just raised an eyebrow at her before lifting a hand, held it flat like he was about to do a salute, then slashed it sharply under his chin. That looked threatening. Was he threatening her?! Alarm rang in her mind as Miss Afton turned her attention back.
“Oh! Sydney uses sign language to communicate, I keep forgetting to let people know that,” Miss Afton said with a sheepish laugh, “I’m too used to being able to understand him. Do you know sign language? Or can at least understand it? That would make it easier to speak with him directly. But I can translate for you!”
Oh. Oh dear. Mrs. Feldman felt her face heat up from stress and embarrassment. Had Mr. Herrera been staring at her to read her lips? How was she to know the man was deaf?! If people expect her to do her job right, they should tell her these things before she makes a fool of herself!
The man was making gestures at Miss Afton and the young woman was glancing between his hands and his face. Maybe she should have taken some classes on alternative languages, then she’d be able to understand some of what was being discussed in front of her. This felt awkward and a little rude, especially since Miss Afton’s open expression quickly became a faint scowl that was directed at her.
“Did you imply that Gregory swearing was Sydney’s fault?” she demanded and Mrs. Feldman shook her head.
“No, I simply wanted his input on this meeting,” she recovered smoothly, “Since he hasn’t said anything the whole meeting, I assumed he wasn’t as invested in Gregory’s upbringing and education as we are.”
“You assume a lot on very little,” Miss Afton said in a colder tone. She looked a lot less like the bubble-headed woman she first walked in as, and Mrs. Feldman swallowed a little.
The young woman reached into her purse again and pulled out another book, a copy of the school’s manual and regulations. She sat back in her chair and flipped through it idly. “Gregory drawing during your lessons is an accomodation, not a disruption, as outlined in section 3, paragraph 2,” Miss Afton began in a flat and toneless voice, her expression empty of the earlier cheer and brightness, “The lack of documentation in his record for this accomodation was an oversight that will be corrected. You’ll just have to deal with it. Gregory can try to curb his language use but there’s no guarantee he can stop entirely. At best, he’ll just make sure you’re not around to hear it and you can simply not be in places where he will be if you’re not necessary to be there.” She smiled, thin and sharp, “That way you can have plausible deniability within the guidelines of the school manual.” She made a small motion with her free hand in Mr. Herrera’s direction. “I’ll overlook your perceptions of Sydney but I can’t say the same for him. After all, your behavior was clearly a violation of section 1, paragraph 1 of this same manual as well as the official charter for the school. He’s within his rights to bring the matter to the attention of your immediate supervisor.”
That would be bad. She wouldn’t be let go, but she’d have a stain on her reputation in the school. Mrs. Feldman swallowed again, thinking of the looks she would get if that happened because she’d lost control of this meeting. How did this happen?! One minute she had everything well in hand and now it felt like she was facing some sort of corporate overlord throwing down hammers of legalese at her!
Mr. Herrera made a few more gestures that Miss Afton glanced over, her fingers twirling her hair idly, like she hadn’t a care in the world. Gregory just looked bored, but then it wasn’t his butt over the fire, was it? Mrs. Feldman looked between them all, holding herself stiffly. Was she about to get blackmailed? Was that it? Over something they just assumed she was thinking?!
“Hm,” Miss Afton hummed in interest before looking back towards Mrs. Feldman, “Sydney is willing to let things slide if you don’t look too hard at what Gregory does.” Her smile stayed in place but everything felt much scarier, darker, like Mrs. Feldman had stumbled into something she should not have. Could she call the police about this? And say what? “He’s just being a kid, drawing to help him keep his focus, and sure he says a few bad words but I’m sure these kids have heard worse on the internet. As long as he’s not using those words to hurt others, and dials it back in front of authority figures to blend in, it should be fine. Nothing against the manual.” Miss Afton waved the book tauntingly at her. “And maybe you should dial it back on being so judgmental. You’re here to teach kids and support them in education and socializing, not try to control how they behave to conform to your idea of how kids should be. Are we clear?”
Mrs. Feldman pursed her mouth tightly. No threats or anything she could take to the police, and if she tried to claim intimidation, the words were just about Gregory, and the only thing about her directly was that accusation. And if she admitted to that to anyone, she’d just as good as tarnish her reputation herself.
She was stuck, and from the looks of the matching smiles on Miss Afton and Mr. Herrera’s faces they were fully aware of it. She scowled and sat back in her chair. “I suppose we’re in agreement over Gregory’s accommodations moving forward, then,” she said, busying herself with straightening the papers on her desk. “That’ll be all for this meeting, thank you.”
“Pleasure working things out with you!” Miss Afton replied, returning to that bright and cheery tone she had when Mrs. Feldman first saw her as a silly blonde girl too naive to get a grip on her boy. How easily she fell for that front. Shameful!
“I told you she was out to get me,” Gregory chimed in with a roll of his eyes, as if he was the one who’d been suffering all this time. Miss Afton just sighed as she, Mr. Herrera, and Gregory all stood up to leave.
“Not everyone is out to get you,” she retorted and narrowed her eyes when the boy just raised a splayed hand, “That doesn’t count!”
“Therapy says it does.”
“Vincent also said you need a different therapist, so ha!”
The dysfunctional little family finally went out the door, leaving Mrs. Feldman in peace at last. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and finally relaxed. Frustrating as it was, she was probably better off just letting this slide for her own sake. Those two were still related to Afton Robotics, even if they didn’t seem interested in following the family business. A big enough donation from that company to the school with conditions tacked on could put undue stress on her nerves.
Perhaps she could retire soon and take a well-deserved vacation come summer? Yes, that seemed like a far more lovely idea.
.
-----------------------------
.
There weren’t many places where Therese and Enrique could sit for as long as they liked, watching people come and go, and muse to themselves about what kinds of lives they live. They’d done it through high school and college as a way to amuse themselves and come up with stories for their respective work interests, and now that they both had steady jobs in those fields it became a way of staying sharp. And it was just fun to do for the two friends.
“Ooh, I got held up in traffic on the way, what’d I miss? Anything delicious in the tea today?” Enrique gushed as he slid into the bench in Therese’s booth, a plate of vegan pizza and a salad on his tray. Therese slid the extra apple soda she bought in his direction as she glanced over the dining area to be sure everyone else was still in their places.
“There’s a family over there looking like they’re trying to put on a front for a mother-in-law, but they give each other death glares whenever she’s not looking. Maybe a plot to bump MIL off for inheritance money?” she began with a sly little smile. Enrique looked over at the family with a pout, slice of pizza in hand.
“Mm, kind of generic, expected even, not enough drama and pizzazz,” he remarked, “Let them cook a bit more. See if we can get something juicy. What else?” He bit into the pizza with a happy hum as Therese looked for the next scene.
“See that guy sitting in a booth by himself? Comes in, orders a personal pizza and a salad, then sits like the salad is for someone else he’s expecting to join him, but no one ever comes,” she pointed out subtly, “I’m thinking someone in denial that their lover is lost, never to join them for a meal again. Or someone who doesn’t believe they keep getting stood up for a date.”
“Ooh, that’s a little more like it~! Dash of romance, dash of tragedy,” Enrique sighed and fluttered his eyes, “Maybe one day, a cute someone slides into that seat at lasts and eats the salad with him?”
“You can have that one,” Therese offered with a flip of her hand, “Theatre scripts do better with more drama than that, but it seems right up your alley for a rom-com script.” She scanned the dining area as she took a sip of her diet soda, looking for other potential scene-setters. A flash of bright red caught her attention and her eyes zeroed in on the pizzeria’s owner/manager moving towards the front of the restaurant with Circus Baby at her side to greet a small group that just entered.
That was rare, to be personally greeted by the owner rather than the front of house staff, and with the star of the animatronic band, too. Therese glanced over the people that warranted such a greeting and her eyebrows rose. “Hey, that guy’s back!” she whispered excitedly to Enrique, flapping her hand to get his attention before he dove into his salad, “The one you totally had a crush on but then he, like, vanished for a couple years or something?”
“He didn’t ‘vanish’, he just got a job over at the Mega Pizzaplex before some sinkhole tore the place practically in half,” Enrique sighed with a roll of his eyes, face flushing at the reminder, “And it’s not a crush! I just wanted to know where he works out so I can get a membership there, too.”
“So how come you never asked when he worked here?” Therese asked him flatly, folding her arms over her chest.
“Cuz he gave me sleeper agent, retired assassin vibes!” Enrique protested, face still burning red and eyes bright with excitement, “What if me talking to him broke the vibe? How’d I live with myself if I ruined my best muse? You know how many good scripts I got out of just watching him work here? And I got a bonus from the script I wrote up when I saw him at the Pizzaplex!”
Therese knew about a couple of those scripts; she had traded a few romance concepts based on the co-owners of the pizzeria for some of those secret agent and assassin scripts. A little bit of a rewrite and they worked well for fantasy medieval dramas. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Yeah, well, apparently he’s back and he’s with that blonde guard from the Pizzaplex,” she pointed out and the two of them watched the young couple greet the pizzeria owner and Circus Baby. “She’s kinda pretty, in that ‘I don’t know what to do with my life’ kind of way,” Therese added.
“He’s got a different vibe,” Enrique muttered, squinting at the only man in the group of women. He blinked when the subject of his observation made gestures with his hands, the blonde watching him, then speaking to the others. “Huh, so he went from being careful with how he talked to people to just full on not speaking at all. Did something happen while he was working over at the Pizzaplex?” He grinned, “Hey, notice how close he is to his former work buddy there? Think they were more than just co-workers?”
“I dunno, they could just be friends like us,” Therese pointed out, stealing a slice of Enrique’s pizza and picking off the bell peppers.
“I’m gay, what’s his excuse?” Enrique huffed, jerking a thumb at himself. He fished a notepad and pen from his satchel, clicking once and scribbling on a fresh sheet. “Maybe they were investigating shady business practices in the Pizzaplex and grew closer under the pressure to discover what was going on, then something traumatic happens, maybe his newly beloved is threatened with harm, and the fear is so deep that he’s silenced to spare her life!”
“Hm, not exactly your usual rom-com,” Therese told him between bites of pizza. Enrique pulled his plate away from her with a scowl. “Also a little vague, you need to fill in more plot.” She looked back up, watching as Circus Baby excused herself and walked away, probably to get ready for the stage. It was almost time for the scheduled show.
The pizzeria owner started leading the young couple into the dining area and Therese and Enrique turned to their food, trying to listen without looking like they were listening in.
“So that’s the basics of how to start up a pizzeria. Didn’t think I’d be helping out new competition today when I woke up but you’re family and friends, after all,” the owner remarked, gesturing towards a nearby dining table. “Here, have a seat. At least let me treat you to lunch before you head back home.”
“Thanks, Meera. Hopefully our pizzeria will be successful enough that Sydney here won’t run off again,” the blonde woman replied gratefully before giving the man beside her a sly smirk, “He knows what’ll happen if he ditches us again.” Sydney just made a face and she laughed, bumping his arm with her shoulder.
“They’re totally boning,” Enrique whispered to Therese, smug grin on his face.
“Alex will be on break soon, so he can join you guys. Tío Lucian can handle security during the performance for a while,” the pizzeria owner, Meera, told the young couple, “I gotta get back to work but it’s really good to see you both again, without all the fighting. You’ve got a surprisingly good roundhouse kick! We should spar sometime!” Sydney’s expression grew wary and the auburn-haired woman laughed. “Relax! I’m asking Vanessa for a friendly spar, this isn’t me flirting. But I can totally flirt if you’re into that, ‘Nessa~.” She and the blonde laughed, playing it off as teasing while Sydney just rolled his eyes with a grin of fond exasperation.
“Your eyes are doing that sparkle thing again. Stop smiling so big, you’re gonna give us away!” Therese hissed under her breath, flicking the green peppers towards Enrique. Her friend was practically vibrating in his seat, pen scribbling furiously over his pad. He might have been going gaga over a fellow gay shooting her shot, but Therese was more interested in the supposed ‘fight’ the three of them had been in.
Did they throw hands somewhere? What for? What caused them to become friendly after the fact? Enemies to friends was a good trope for a lot of scripts, plenty of material there, and yes, a little romance there would be good to bring in the dating couples to the theatre.
Eventually, the pizzeria owner moved on and the day shift guard for the pizzeria came over to sit at the booth. Therese and Enrique squabbled a bit over the bowl of salad to keep up their cover of not-listening. Now that both men were at the table, it was easy to recognize the day guard as related to Sydney.
“Oh, that’s right. His little brother hung out here while he was working the day shift. Must’ve taken over the job when Sydney left to work at the Pizzaplex,” Enrique remarked with raised eyebrows. “Wonder if this place is hiring them as extra staff?”
“Sounds more like that Vanessa lady is opening her own pizzeria and Sydney’s working for her there. Ooh, brothers in competition! This should give some good material,” Therese murmured happily, taking her own notes on her phone.
“How are your ribs? Finally healed up?” the day guard asked his brother. Therese and Enrique listened attentively, curiosity ramped up by the questions. The guard was holding his phone up, angled to point the camera at Sydney’s hands as the older man gestured with them. “That’s good. You’re lucky you only got a little roughed up by that guy. My background check turned up some info on that client,” the guard, Alex as the pizzeria owner said, explained in a lowered voice, “He’s apparently an admirer of your past self. You showing up as Pantera was practically his idea of a gift from on high for his collection.”
Sydney just face-palmed while Vanessa scowled, cheeks puffing indignantly. “He can’t have him! I hold Sydney’s contract, so I’ve got legal on my side!” she huffed. The three fell into silence as a waiter came by and delivered a large pizza and drinks for them.
“Just saying,” Alex picked up the conversation once the waiter was gone, “if you go back out again as Pantera, steer clear of that guy. I doubt he’ll just give up on you now that he’s convinced himself you’re somehow a descendent of yourself. Those eyes of yours are too unique to not have been ‘inherited’.” The brothers cringed at his words while Vanessa just pinched the bridge of her nose.
“This reminds me of how Afton thought my body would be perfect for Emelia just because I have green eyes like her,” she growled, “It’s stupid. These are our lives! Our identities!”
“Welcome to the paranormal dumbfuckery club,” Alex quipped, uncapping his bottle of soda, “Where our eyes get us into trouble and our souls are the ball in a decades-long game of keep-away from some dipshit who couldn’t handle competition in business. Sydney, stop looking guilty; you didn’t start this shit, you got taken advantage of just like the rest of us.”
Therese and Enrique stared at one another with wide eyes. Whatever was going on with those three, there was just so much juicy gossip, even if stuff didn’t make any sense. Something like this would make for a great thriller, an action movie script maybe, something with suspense and intrigue. Change some names and ages around, fill in the blanks and smooth out the stuff that doesn’t make sense, this could be another good pitch.
“This one would be good for a summer action flick,” Enrique muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he tapped his pen against his pad.
“I dunno, this almost feels too bizarre to be real,” Therese murmured, squinting at the notes on her phone. “Are we being fed bullshit?”
“If it is bullshit, it’s still nourishment for the garden of plot ideas,” her friend countered, scribbling down another idea. “Could do with a role reversal, woman rushing to rescue her kidnapped man from some mafia boss with a thing for mysterious idols. Is that too tacky?”
“We got a lot of good advice and tips from Meera on opening and running a pizzeria, so we should be set on that front,” Vanessa said brightly, clapping her hands together, “No one’s going to be running off to do mercenary work any time soon, got it?”
“I didn’t even get to do anything!” Alex complained while Sydney just flashed a thumb’s up while grabbing a slice of pizza for himself. “All I’ve done so far is just secure our networks here at the pizzeria and at home so it’ll be harder for us to get tracked. Hacking the Pizzaplex network was the closest I got to my old work, and even then the asshole got further in that than I did!”
“Well, now you’ll get to secure the network for our pizzeria, too,” Vanessa told him and looked down at the pizza. “Uh, what kind of pizza is this? Looks like something we served at El Chip’s.”
“Taco pizza. It’s one of the asshole’s ideas for a signature dish,” Alex sighed, pulling a slice out to eat, “Don’t tell him, but it actually does taste good. I just don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing I said that.”
“Bored now,” Enrique mumbled around his straw as he took another drink of his soda. Therese nodded in agreement, tapping out some more notes about a potential script idea with a jealous king and a clever knight and a princess caught in a trap. “I got a lot of great material to work with though. You?”
“I think I’ve got enough to create a full schedule of shows. Same time next week?” Therese asked as she got up and flicked through her wallet to leave a tip. Music began drifting from the stage as the curtain rose, Circus Baby stepping out in a strut to the beat. “She’s circus themed but I swear some joker programmed her to perform like a flamenco dancer,” she remarked with a squint at the animatronic swirling on stage with rapid steps and taps.
“Not like the kids watching her would know the difference. Yeah, same time next week,” Enrique replied and walked off cheerfully, “I’ll pick up the tip next time! Get that bag, girl!”
Therese gave the group at the nearby booth one last glance before shouldering her bag and heading out. Whatever was going on with them sounded pretty bizarre for such a normal-looking bunch, but it wasn’t her problem anyway. People watching today brought in a rich bounty of script ideas. Maybe she should keep an eye out for when this new pizzeria would open and add that to the list of places she and Enrique hit up for ideas. Wouldn’t do to let a fountain of inspiration disappear on them again.
.
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.
“Huh, that the new kid over there?” Toby asked over his lunch of burger and fries, blinking at a pair of figures sitting at a table near the cafeteria exit. His companions turned to look as well before returning to their own food.
“That Gregory guy? He’s been here a couple weeks already so not that new,” Christine replied flippantly, swinging her legs as she dipped her fries into her cup of ice cream to eat. “Kinda cute in that ‘I can fix him’ sort of way. Cassie hangs out with him and I heard from Millie who heard from Bobby who overheard them talking about the Pizzaplex one time that that’s where they met so him saying he just moved here last month is a total lie.”
“Why would he lie about when he moved here? This place is the most boring town in the world. Like nothing happens here,” Frank complained, eyeing her fries with disgust.
“What about all those people that kept disappearing from their houses or the Pizzaplex or that one game studio or a whole pizzeria just up and vanishing overnight?” Toby pointed out dryly.
“Conspiracies! No way can so many people just vanish and nobody does anything about it or looks into what caused it!” Frank shot back and folded his arms over his chest, wrinkling his immaculately pressed shirt. Toby and Christine shared a look over their milk cartons; it would just be a matter of time before he complained about that too. “Anyway, what if he’s under witness protection and had to lie about when he moved here to protect himself?”
“His name is Gregory Afton,” Christine replied sarcastically, “If that’s the name he gets under witness protection, they might as well pin a bull’s-eye to his back before letting him get on the bus.” She rolled her eyes and looked back over at Cassie rubbing Gregory’s back as the boy pressed his hands to his eyes and forehead. “Every time I see that guy, he always looks like he’s in pain. I hope he has medicine with the nurse for it,” she added with a concerned look.
“If his last name’s Afton, is he related to the company that made the animatronics for the Pizzaplex?” Toby mused aloud, “Maybe he knows when that place will reopen?” The other two kids shrugged, and he pouted. “You guys suck. That place was awesome and then it closed down and got swarmed by cops, and then an earthquake wrecks it more.”
“God, if you want pizza and animatronic entertainment so bad, just go to Circus Baby’s,” Christine told him in annoyance, “The food actually tastes like the cooks give a crap and Circus Baby takes song requests if she’s in a good mood.”
“She never takes any of my requests,” Frank grumbled as he looked down at his wrinkled shirt in distaste and Christine rolled her eyes again.
“No duh. You keep asking for anime songs from a clown performer,” she replied dryly, “She looked like she was five seconds away from kicking you in the head and I would have cheered her on. Listen to Hatsune Miku on your phone; don’t traumatize the robot.”
Chairs scraping the floor pulled their attention back to Cassie and Gregory, and the three of them watched as they left their trays on the table. Gregory had one arm slung across Cassie’s shoulders, the girl helping him stay upright as he clutched at his head with a grimace. Side by side, they shuffled through the exit, slipping out of the cafeteria and probably heading for the nurse’s office.
“Y’know, he showed up here after the Pizzaplex closed and got hit with the cops. Think he had something to do with that?” Toby questioned thoughtfully.
“He’s a kid like us,” Christine told him flatly and pointed her dipped fries at Frank, “Don’t start sounding like him.”
“What if he’s actually a robot who ran away from the Pizzaplex?” Frank whispered in dawning horror, eyes wide and distant. Christine looked at him in disgust before shooting Toby a glare.
“You set him off again!”
“Sorry. But at least we’ll have something for our podcast after school?”
“It’s going to sound so dumb. If we go on the internet and say Gregory’s a secret Afton robot, we’re gonna lose so many listeners. Who would actually believe that?!”
Toby shrugged at her deadpan expression, a mischievous grin on his face, “It’s just a theory.”
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project-1000 · 29 days ago
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Give Wine Gifts a Stylish Upgrade with Handcrafted Bags & Covers
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Gifting a bottle of wine is a timeless gesture, symbolizing celebration, gratitude, and elegance. But have you ever thought about how you present it? A beautifully crafted wine bottle bag or wine bottle cover can enhance the overall gifting experience, making it even more special. At Project1000, we offer exquisite, handcrafted wine bottle bags online and wine bottle covers that are not only elegant but also sustainable.
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madamefluffnstuff · 2 years ago
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Long Distance
Fandom: Elder Scrolls Online
Pairing: Naryu Virian x GN!Reader
Rating: T
Warning(s): Mentions of assassins, political assassination in a medieval-esque fantasy setting, long distance relationships, overall fluff.
Words: 700
AN: I noticed our favorite Morag Tong assassin doesn't get much love on here. I wanted to fix that.
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Naryu stretched herself out on the inn bed, sighing in relief. Another contract finished- quite cleanly too, she thought to herself. Varon would be pleased. This particular "victim" managed to weasel their way to the top of the Morag Tong's hit list while simultaneously being extremely difficult to track. But Naryu Virian is nothing if not resourceful, and a few discreetly slipped coins (along with a cheap bottle of wine) soon got her the answer she was looking for.
However she couldn't leave town just yet; she entered under the guise of a pilgrim on a journey to honor the Ancestors. Luckily for her there was, in fact, a shrine not too far from the little hamlet. To leave so suddenly would raise alarms, and the guild would be quite cross with her if there were suspicions of their involvement.
No, another day or two should suffice. It would give the assassin enough time to solidify an alibi, gather some supplies for the trip back, and make her escape.
If everything went as planned she'd be gone before they found the body.
Suddenly the sound of running water filling a wash basin filled her ears. A thought came: a hot bath sounds delightful right about now. Not only as a treat for a successful mission, but also to make sure she got all the blood off. As she stood up to request a private bath, her foot bumped her knapsack and a small envelope slipped out of the opening.
Her eyes widened a bit, how did she forget about that? After all, it was hand delivered by a courier just this morning. For a brief moment she had thought her cover had been blown until she saw the handwriting. The Dunmer woman knew that handwriting from intimate experience. Many surreptitious notes passed back and forth from the owner, along with many maybe-not-so-discreet glances across crowded rooms. One of those notes and glances even lead to a late night meeting behind some stables for a heated and passionate kiss.
Naryu snatched up the letter and plopped back on the bed as she very carefully broke the seal.
"N,
I hope this letter finds you well. Not getting into too much trouble, right? Though knowing you, my sweet, you're getting into all kinds of trouble.
Things are relatively well. I'm back in Vvardenfell helping the Mages Guild recover some old tomes. It's a bit dull, but the coin is good. Right now I'm in Seyda Neen, where I will then make my way to Vivec City. We'll see what happens after that.
I miss you terribly. Things just aren't the same without you, especially when I don't get to hear your voice. I'd like to swap stories with you again when we meet up. Mine are not nearly as exciting as yours but I know you like to hear them anyway.
You're probably on a mission right now, so just make sure to stay safe and be careful. Write back whenever you can, my dear.
All my love,
V.
P.S. Come visit soon. The dogs miss you."
A dreamy sigh escaped her lips. "V" for Vestige. Most people knew them as a war hero, a savior, maybe even a walking good luck charm, depending on who you asked. But Naryu knew them as someone else- they trusted her enough to tell her their story, of Mannimarco's betrayal, Coldharbor, and losing their soul to the God of Despair and Domination... it was crazy to hear.
Even crazier to think they'd trust her, an assassin, with such a secret.
Those in her line of work were discouraged from having romantic relationships, so Naryu was definitely pushing some boundaries by having this long-distance one. However what Varon didn't know wouldn't hurt him. As much as she wanted to keep the letter she knew it would be best to get rid of it. The fireplace downstairs would work nicely...
But that could wait until tomorrow. For now she was going to read it over and over again and hear their voice in her head until the sun rose for a new dawn.
It would suffice until she could hear it again with her own two ears.
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kyogre-blue · 1 year ago
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My work is doing an (online) cider tasting event. There's some funny trivia that made me think of Mondstadt:
Cider has been around for 5000 years.
1 gallon of cider takes 15 pounds of apples.
The byproduct of making cider is called pomace.
The nation that consumes to the most cider per capita is Ireland.
However, the country that produces the most cider is France (particularly Normandy and Brittany regions, which have been producing since the 6th century).
Incidentally, I'm a weakling and doing the non-alcoholic version, but apparently cider is generally alcoholic. Because of this, it was hit by prohibition back in the day.
To make cider, you store the applies outside for about a week, so they soften. Then you wash them, pouring them from the bins onto a conveyer to the scrubber. Then you grind them in a large mill into something like an apple sauce (pulp). The finer the pulp, the less oxidation occurs. Then you remove the juice from the pulp, leaving behind the pomace, via a press.
Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DpbWf3gAxwY
Then you add yeast, which eats up the sugar to create alcohol. The process is the same as beer (funny point: despite talking so much about wine, Angel's Share is covered with plaques of beer mugs). Then you filter it again, and then bottle it up.
For non-alcoholic cider, there's no yeast (unless it is a de-alcoholised type).
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lilitcafe · 1 month ago
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Beer and Wine Store In Bethesda MD
If you’re searching for a top-notch Beer And Wine Store In Bethesda MD, look no further than Lilit Cafe. Located at 7921 Old Georgetown Rd, Bethesda, MD 20814, United States, this charming establishment is your one-stop destination for an exceptional selection of beers, wines, and more. Whether you’re a local resident or just passing through, Lilit Cafe offers a warm and inviting atmosphere where you can explore a curated collection of beverages that cater to every taste and occasion.
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At Lilit Cafe, we take pride in offering a diverse range of products that appeal to both casual drinkers and connoisseurs alike. Our beer and wine store in Bethesda, MD features an impressive array of local craft beers, international brews, fine wines, and specialty spirits. From crisp lagers and hoppy IPAs to rich reds and refreshing whites, our shelves are stocked with options that will satisfy even the most discerning palate. Whether you’re hosting a party, enjoying a quiet evening at home, or looking for the perfect gift, Lilit Cafe has something for everyone.
Conveniently situated in the heart of Bethesda, our location at 7921 Old Georgetown Rd makes it easy for you to stop by and explore our offerings. Our friendly and knowledgeable staff are always on hand to help you navigate our selection, providing personalized recommendations based on your preferences. Whether you’re looking for a bold Cabernet Sauvignon, a smooth Chardonnay, or a unique craft beer from a local brewery, we’re here to ensure you find exactly what you’re looking for.
In addition to our extensive beverage selection, Lilit Cafe is also a cozy spot to relax and unwind. Our cafe area offers a welcoming environment where you can enjoy a cup of coffee, a light snack, or even a glass of wine or beer on-site. It’s the perfect place to meet friends, catch up on work, or simply take a break from your busy day. With comfortable seating and a laid-back vibe, Lilit Cafe is more than just a beer and wine store in Bethesda, MD—it’s a community hub where locals gather to enjoy good company and great drinks.
One of the things that sets Lilit Cafe apart from other beer and wine stores in the area is our commitment to quality and customer satisfaction. We carefully source our products from reputable suppliers, ensuring that every bottle and can on our shelves meets our high standards. Whether you’re looking for a rare vintage, a limited-edition craft beer, or a popular favorite, you can trust that our selection is both premium and thoughtfully curated.
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If you’re planning a special event or celebration, Lilit Cafe has you covered. Our beer and wine store in Bethesda, MD offers a variety of options for catering to large gatherings, from corporate events to weddings and birthday parties. We can help you create custom packages tailored to your needs, ensuring that your guests have access to the finest beverages throughout the occasion. With our convenient location and exceptional service, Lilit Cafe is the go-to choice for event planners and hosts in the Bethesda area.
At Lilit Cafe, we understand that convenience is key, which is why we offer a range of services designed to make your shopping experience as seamless as possible. In addition to our in-store offerings, we provide online ordering and delivery options, allowing you to browse our selection and have your favorite beverages delivered straight to your door. Whether you’re stocking up for a party or simply replenishing your home bar, we’re here to make it easy for you to get what you need.
When it comes to finding the best beer and wine store in Bethesda, MD, Lilit Cafe stands out as a trusted and beloved destination. Our commitment to quality, customer service, and community engagement has made us a favorite among locals and visitors alike. Whether you’re a seasoned wine enthusiast, a craft beer lover, or someone who simply enjoys a good drink now and then, we invite you to visit us at 7921 Old Georgetown Rd, Bethesda, MD 20814, United States, and experience the Lilit Cafe difference for yourself.
For more information about our products, services, or upcoming events, feel free to give us a call at +1 3016545454. Our team is always happy to assist you and answer any questions you may have. At Lilit Cafe, we’re more than just a beer and wine store in Bethesda, MD—we’re a destination for discovery, connection, and enjoyment. Stop by today and see why we’re the preferred choice for beer and wine lovers in the area!
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harrysliquor · 1 month ago
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Discover the Best Spirits at Harry Liquor
When it comes to finding the perfect drink for any occasion, Harry Liquor stands out as a trusted destination. Known for its wide selection, competitive pricing, and customer-focused service, Harry Liquor has become a go-to store for enthusiasts and casual drinkers alike. Whether you’re looking for premium whiskey, classic wines, or craft beers, Harry Liquor has something to suit every palate.
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Wide Selection of Beverages Harry Liquor offers an extensive range of spirits, wines, and beers. From top-shelf liquors to locally brewed craft beers, there’s something for everyone. Their inventory includes:
Fine wines from renowned vineyards.
Premium whiskies, including single malts and blended options.
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Seasonal and specialty beverages to keep things fresh and exciting.
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Harry Liquor isn’t just about the classics; they also feature hard-to-find spirits and exclusive labels. For connoisseurs looking to try something new, this is the perfect place to discover hidden gems in the world of beverages.
Customer-Centric Service
What sets Harry Liquor apart is its friendly and knowledgeable staff. Whether you’re a seasoned drinker or a beginner exploring your options, their team is always ready to help you choose the perfect bottle for any occasion.
Harry Liquor for Every Celebration
From intimate dinners to grand celebrations, Harry Liquor is your one-stop shop for all things drinks. Need recommendations for wine pairings or cocktail ideas? They’ve got you covered with expert advice and inspiration.
Harry Liquor combines quality, variety, and exceptional service to create a shopping experience like no other. Whether you’re restocking your bar or searching for the ideal gift, you’ll find everything you need right here.
Visit Harry Liquor today and raise your glass to great drinks and even better experiences!
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ligayagardener · 2 months ago
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I decided to explore the percolation method of extracting herbal constituents, so thought about making my own percolation cone. I thought it would be cheaper than buying one and in one sense, it is. Now I’m equipped for cutting glass it’ll be cheaper in the long run but this first one was a bit steep. I’ve got to give a nod to the folks at Cafe Nova who let me raid their bottle bin for wine bottles so that I could practice. First of all, I tried the string and metho method to but the bottom off of the bottles. That was very inconsistent. I invested in a glass cutter from eBay. It only cost me $16 and was adequate but still, the results were not perfect. ✓ Subscribed I decided to bite the bullet and bu a diamond cutting disc for my Dremal. It  was $20 on sale at the big green shed around the corner.  This cut beautifully but it was tricky to get a straight and even cut. If only I had something with rollers…? Then it hit me…why don’t I mount the Dremel on the roller cutter that I’d purchased from eBay.. A bit of fiddling to get the height right and I was away. I could roll the bottle against the rapidly rotating disc foir some decent cuts! The total cost was $36 plus some bits and pieces I had around. It works nicely but there’s still a bit of wet and dry polishing to do after and doesn’t it make a noise?! The stand was modelled on a test tube rack and made of offcuts of wood plus some short lengths cut from a 25mm broomstick (cost $7) and some paint that I had laying around. I thought I’d try enamel paint because it may get splashed with alcohol and I thought it would last longer than an acrylic based paint. There’s a ring of stick-on rubber sheet around the inside of the hole to help secure and protect the bottle (cone). I tried several bungs to stop up the bottle and hold the tap. The best I found were the pre-drilled second stoppers from Brewcraft (about $5 each). The tap is a 1/4 inch valve from an air compressor setip and a barbed whatever-they’re- called that goes through the bung. I needed to trim the bung a little si the while assembly fitted neatly inti the bottle because the initial try was too flexible and moved a lot. A bit of thread tape to stop leaks and away we went. Then I found that the while thing was longer than I’d estimated, so I cut and drilled a block of wood to add to the top so that the bottle was raised a little higher. The rubber insert helps raise it a little too. It works nicely. Soon,  I’ll be adding a link to our Tincturing page so that you can find out how to percolate your herbs. Other herb pages on Ligaya Garden We cover a lot of ground on many herb related topics here on our website. There are whole pages devoted to different topics as well as frequent posts. Some of the links are – Garden Herbs Wild Herbs Making Remedies Mushroom medicine All of the information on Ligaya Garden Online is freely shared. Please consider making a small donation to keep it free for everyone. Just click this blue button.
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tamadasyd · 2 months ago
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What Makes Organic Red Wine Different? Understanding the Basics
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Organic red wine has become increasingly popular in recent years, and for good reason. Whether you’re a seasoned wine enthusiast or a casual drinker, choosing organic wines can offer a variety of benefits that go beyond just taste. But what exactly makes organic red wine different from conventional wines? In this blog, we’ll break down the basics of organic red wine, explore the farming practices behind it, and highlight why it might be your next go-to bottle.
What is Organic Red Wine?
At its core, organic red wine is made from grapes grown without synthetic pesticides, herbicides, or chemical fertilisers. Organic farming methods focus on maintaining the health of the soil, using natural alternatives for pest control, and enhancing biodiversity. But the differences don’t end with how the grapes are grown—organic winemaking also extends to the production process, where certain additives and preservatives are kept to a minimum.
Unlike conventional wines, wine no preservatives added are crafted with minimal intervention. This means fewer additives and chemicals are used during fermentation, which can result in a wine that tastes more authentic and pure, reflecting the terroir (the unique environment) of the vineyard.
No Synthetic Chemicals: A Key Difference
One of the main differences between organic and conventional wines is the absence of synthetic chemicals in the farming process. Organic vineyards rely on natural methods to combat pests, diseases, and weeds. For instance, they may use beneficial insects, composting, and cover crops to maintain soil health and protect the vines. This approach not only helps to preserve the environment but also reduces the chemical residue that can end up in the wine.
In conventional winemaking, on the other hand, synthetic pesticides and herbicides are often sprayed on the grapevines to ensure a high yield and prevent crop damage. These chemicals can linger on the grapes and end up in the wine, affecting the final product’s taste and, in some cases, raising health concerns.
Wine No Preservatives Added: A Healthier Option
Many organic preservative free wine also avoid the use of artificial preservatives. Preservatives like sulfites are often added to conventional wines to prevent oxidation and spoilage. While sulfites are considered safe for most people, some individuals are sensitive to them and may experience headaches or allergic reactions.
Organic wines, on the other hand, tend to have fewer or no preservatives added. This results in a wine that is often fresher, more vibrant, and free from the chemical aftertaste that can sometimes be associated with non-organic wines. Choosing wine with no preservatives added means you’re likely drinking a product that has undergone fewer chemical treatments, which may contribute to a cleaner, more authentic flavour profile.
Organic Preservative-Free Wine: Pure, Unadulterated Flavours
When you choose organic preservative-free wine, you’re opting for a wine that is closer to nature. The absence of synthetic chemicals and preservatives means that the wine reflects the pure expression of the grapes, allowing the natural flavours to shine through. Organic winemakers are often more focused on quality than quantity, and they tend to produce wines that have a deeper sense of place and character.
Without the use of artificial additives, organic red wines can have more complexity and a smoother, more harmonious finish. The wine often carries the distinct flavours of the vineyard and the region where the grapes are grown, giving each bottle a unique personality. This makes organic wines particularly appealing to those who are looking for a more authentic wine-drinking experience.
Buying Organic Wines Online
If you’re ready to explore organic red wines, one of the easiest ways is to buy organic wines online. There are now many online retailers offering a wide selection of organic red wines, ranging from everyday bottles to premium, limited-edition wines. When you buy organic wines online, you can often read detailed descriptions of the vineyards, farming practices, and winemaking techniques, helping you make a more informed choice.
Organic red wine offers a refreshing alternative to conventional wines by focusing on natural farming practices, minimal intervention, and the use of fewer chemicals. So next time you’re picking up a bottle, why not opt for something pure, vibrant, and full of character—organic red wine might just become your new favourite.
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project-1000 · 2 months ago
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Celebrate in style with handcrafted Wine Bottle Bags Online and elegant Wine Bottle Covers
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When it comes to gifting, presentation matters as much as the gift itself. A thoughtfully wrapped bottle of wine not only enhances the overall aesthetic but also adds a personal touch to your gesture. At Project1000, we understand the art of gifting, which is why we bring you an exclusive collection of Wine Bottle Bags Online and premium Wine Bottle Covers that combine elegance, functionality, and sustainability.
Why Choose Project1000 for Your Wine Accessories?
At Project1000, we are dedicated to blending luxury with conscious living. Our wine bottle bags and covers are crafted by skilled artisans using sustainable materials, ensuring each product carries a story of heritage and craftsmanship. By choosing our products, you not only elevate your gifting game but also contribute to supporting rural entrepreneurship and eco-friendly practices.
Stylish Wine Bottle Bags Online
Our collection of Wine Bottle Bags Online offers a range of designs to suit every occasion, from intimate dinners to grand celebrations. These bags are made using high-quality, eco-friendly fabrics such as jute, cotton, and handwoven textiles, ensuring durability and a unique aesthetic appeal. Available in various colors and patterns, our wine bottle bags add sophistication and charm to your gift presentation.
Key features of our wine bottle bags:
Eco-Friendly Materials: Crafted from sustainable resources to reduce environmental impact.
Artisan-Made: Each bag is handcrafted with care, showcasing the skill and dedication of rural artisans.
Versatile Designs: Perfect for gifting wine, champagne, or sparkling beverages.
Elegant Wine Bottle Covers
For those looking for a more refined touch, our Wine Bottle Covers are an ideal choice. These covers are designed to fit snugly around the bottle, offering a sleek and polished look. Whether you’re hosting a dinner party or gifting a special bottle to a loved one, our covers ensure your wine stands out in style.
Key benefits of our wine bottle cover:
Premium Quality: Made with luxurious materials for a sophisticated finish.
Reusable: A sustainable alternative to single-use wrapping paper.
Customizable: Available in various styles to match your personal taste or event theme.
The Project1000 Difference
When you shop for Wine Bottle Bags Online or Wine Bottle Covers with Project1000, you’re not just buying a product; you’re joining a movement that values craftsmanship, sustainability, and empowerment. Here’s why we stand out:
Support for Rural Artisans: Every purchase helps create opportunities for skilled craftspeople in rural communities.
Sustainable Living: Our commitment to eco-friendly practices ensures that you can make stylish, responsible choices.
Exclusive Designs: Our products are uniquely designed to bring a touch of luxury and tradition to your gifting experience.
Shop Now and Make a Difference
Ready to transform your gifting game? Explore our curated collection of Wine Bottle Bags Online and Wine Bottle Cover at Project1000. Each piece is a blend of art, culture, and sustainability, making it the perfect choice for any occasion.
Join us in making every celebration meaningful with Project1000’s timeless creations. Shop now and give your gifts the presentation they deserve while contributing to a better future for artisans and the planet.
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