#kopparbergs

[redlettermediathings]

[distance-does-not-matter]

the great lost love of my life isn’t a person, nay, it’s a Swedish cider I discovered in London

Kopparberg Strawberry Lime cider, if you’re reading this, come home baby (to a grocery store near me), I’ll treat you right, I swear

[cubiccle]

When he told about the story behind Huhhahhei, this was the exact fuckboy I had in my mind

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

7 pages in babey 😎

[bottlecaparchive]

Kopparberg, Premium Cider

Collected by my partner in Berlin in 2017.

[hungryyheart]

i have these sick ass icons of conrad playing the trombone that i'll literally never get to use

unless, god forbid, he is given a trombone.

[calciopics]

Born on this day: Hope Solo (30.07.1981)

[lizzieehearts]

been drinking for like 6 1/2 houes yall

[highsummonermercar]

Summer 2020

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤmemoirs of the windㅤ...ㅤ( 제이 )

ㅤㅤ﹙2072﹚ ㅤ장르 angst, bittersweetㅤㅤwarnings drinking, light implications of substance abuse, smoking, break-up, sort of non closure on his partㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event ! i had sm fun writing this, thank u for hosting the event iNDEX

ib only by lee hi ⋆ there are references to the lyrics in this work

the clock strikes eight, a click of the lighter follows— the flame settles on the wick of the candle, fluttering before resting still like everything else in the apartment. the wind plays its melancholic howls as if music orchestrated for the day. outside, it’s a dance of leaves waving on trees. inside, it’s your birthday, and it’s quiet. 

he sits at the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on the cake. it’s your favourite, cherry vanilla, with little flowers made of red buttercream adding to its appeal. the candle lights up a little over and across the sweet delicacy, albeit nothing compared to the dim lights of his kitchen. he sighs, and wonders, and wonders, and then whispers above the weighing silence. 

“happy birthday,” he says to the ghost of you. perhaps you’re on the couch watching him, or maybe on the stool across from him. in his mind, you’re here. in his heart, on his lips, and when the alcohol wears off for a brief minute— you’re back to sweden. 

“happiest birthday,” he mutters again, eyes never leaving your name on the cake. it’s your first birthday without him. you said you’d spend your birthdays with him but here you are nonetheless. here he is, wondering, waiting, wasting himself over memories from six months ago. over words you probably have never meant, maybe they never weighed enough for you. 

there’s alcohol on the side. you detest it— gosh— shuddering away from the whiff alone. jay thought he would have to give up on drinking if he wanted to keep you. there has never been an ‘if’ actually, for he stopped buying beer and wine, stayed away from drinking even though his friends made fun of him, sometimes. and yet there you were on his instagram feed, smiling, partying with a bottle of Kopparberg in your hand.

‘times change,’ you had said once when he saw you munching on your mint-chocolate ice cream. you had claimed to hate it, and then you were on the couch, saying you had changed your mind and it definitely doesn’t taste like toothpaste. ‘people change, jay,’

that day, he didn’t think much over your words and laughed it off, deciding to have a taste as well. today, however, it’s all hitting him like a wave at the sea during a storm. he wonders what else has changed. do you still like macaroons? do you still wear that bracelet he gifted on your hundred days anniversary? is lee hi still your favourite artist?

he remembers the song— only, it’s also from your favourite album of hers. you played it on repeat sometimes, while cleaning your room or baking. soft hums of its familiar melodies danced off your lips while you did laundry. jay could only ask himself why you like it so much, until he actually asked you one day, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. 

‘it’s cute and romantic,’ you had responded while folding your clothes, the slight fragrance of your detergent spinning in the air. ‘it sounds like love,’ 

that was like you, to associate and define things as love. his kisses tasted like love, touch felt like love, voice resonated with love— sometimes, he’d stop and shake his head at your words with a silly smile. how could you see love in everything around, in things as ugly as shame, and pretty as stars? he remembers meeting you and you described the feeling as love. 

you came in like a spring wind. first day, first interaction, and he was floored. 

jay doesn’t know much about love. he isn’t the one to ponder about it and put it in words. love, to him, is the feeling, happy or sad. to him, it’s in longing and yearning, yet also in letting go. you were his first girlfriend, and his hands were shaking when he felt like he had the entire world on his palms. he would stutter and stumble and you would lend him a hand. that’s love to him. when his patience ran thin and he ended up saying words he didn’t mean, when arguments left you with silence weaving itself in between, you would hold him and promise to stay together, and he says he’ll do better. that’s love to him. 

love, to jay, was when he came home in a hurry to your long texts— your bags laid out with clothes inside, and he let your hand slip out of his fingers. 

‘can you explain yourself?’ he had asked, anxious and frantic, going crazy behind his eyes. his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he pulled you aside, holding your hands ever so dearly and in fear. 

‘there’s nothing to explain. i told you everything over text,’ and that’s all you had said before going back to packing your stuff. jay saw your flight tickets on the bedside table and realised there was a lot you didn’t tell him about— and you’re still a mystery to him.

‘did i do something wrong?’ 

‘did i push you away?’

‘am i not good enough?’

all these questions spun in the room, and you had taken his hand ever so tenderly, planting a soft, gentle kiss, looking at him in the eyes with pain— love. you had told him so inexplicably how happy you were and how much the time you two spent meant to you. you had told him how lovely he was and how all your rainy nights and lonely days felt like you were being coloured in his shiny light because he was with you. 

you told him, he believed, and you let go of his hands with a bittersweet smile before walking back to your closet. 

‘did you fall out of love?’ silence. 

‘are you tired of me?’ and silence. 

he still thinks about those questions he asked, even now as he’s sitting in front of your supposed birthday cake. you never responded, but your silence told more than words could ever recite. he wishes you had answered him, though. it would’ve been easier for him to move on, even though he has always known what your answer would be. sometimes, he wishes for you to come back running, half because he wants to close the door on you and hurt you the same way you hurt him, and half because he wants to hold you in his arms and pour out all the love he has for you. his fingers hover above the like button of your posts. he wonders if he should comment or maybe send you a direct message. he wants to pull you back, but you look so happy without him— and who was he ever to take away your happiness? so he just scrolls past, liking other posts and reels, and hangs in there drowning in thoughts of you until you post again— and the ugly cycle continues. 

jay notices the candle melting and puts it away on the kitchen counter, not wanting the wax to poison the cake if it ever could. he grabs a can of beer from the fridge, downs it, and then grabs another, then another, and another, to the point his vision is blurring. he tries to light a cigarette but the lighter doesn’t work. he takes off his cardigan and throws it around in attempt to make a mess. he wants you to see him— pitiful and in pain, and he wants you to stop him like you always had.

he tunes in the recorder, listening to a few of the songs that you enjoyed. he never bothered changing it. and he drinks yet another can of beer, looking around and out of the window, looking at the unattended cake and the melted wax on the table. oh how you would scrape it out with your nails. 

“do you think about me?” he asks into the empty. the question gnaws at him from the inside, along with a thousand others. he waits, and waits, hoping for a response, knowing it’s useless, hopeless. “sometimes, i think about you every minute,”

he tries to think of how you’d respond to those words— with a laugh, maybe. maybe, you’d tell him you think of him too, he can only guess, he can only imagine. he imagines you walking up to him and leaning down for a kiss. you’d whisper something sweet in your enchanting voice and then kiss him again, this time getting onto his lap, your lips pulling him in a way he can’t help but wrap his arms around you. and just when it would be getting better— you’d pull away. 

‘i don’t like dancing,’ you had mentioned once, as he suddenly remembers via the alcohol taking him down the memory lane, when he asked you for a dance at the freshers party. he didn’t even know you then, not more than the fact that you were the most beautiful person he had seen that night.

and then a year later, you were in his apartment, arms over his shoulders, his hands on your waist. you gave him this sweet smile and made him inch closer for a kiss, all while waltzing to your favourite song. you said you didn’t mind dancing if it was him, only him. because he was the only one. 

and jay huffs at the memory, a bit frustrated. it was a lie, a pure white lie. you didn’t mind sharing dance with a few of your friends. he knew it was childish of him to be upset at this, but he’s annoyed nonetheless. you’ve told him lies, about love, about him, about yourself; to the point he believed they were the truth. like when you said he didn’t have a talent for music so he should take engineering instead so that you two could stay together. and when you said everything would be fine now that he was in love with you— a whole lot of lies. he grips the can tightly at the memory, pressing his fingers into the metal. and then your song comes on. 

jay just stares at the recorder for a few seconds. he pictures you walking up to him from the living room with a smile on your face, asking him for a dance and he’d agree— as he does, standing up from the stool except this time, he’s holding a beer can instead of your hand. every step he takes reminds him of the little dance you two performed together. he closes his eyes occasionally, taking in the lyrics, the chorus that you like so much. he let his mind trace over every single memory of yours he has preserved in his mind. how quickly you made him fall for you and how swiftly you left. 

like a wind blowing past the curtains into his living room, you came into his life, and entranced him in your presence. you had asked him to make room for you in his heart and he gave you your entire self and soul. being with you was an adventure, like walking into a storm. he had to share his love and you’ll never let go. now, he starts picturing you in his arms while waltzing down the kitchen all alone, reliving the feeling of your body pressed close to him.

he lets his feet guide him around his apartment, down to the living room, bumping into the couch slightly but he doesn’t stop. it’s like the first dance he shared with you, magical, as you had him lost in yourself completely. all the walks together with you, hands intertwined together, it all plays in his head like a movie. and jay never understood the song like you did, but he can walk on the world stage and thump his chest to claim you’re the only one— but it wouldn’t mean a damn thing since he’s not yours in return. 

he takes a sip of beer, humming to the melody of the song as he waltzes on his own, walking down to the balcony. you were his muse, and his notepad is full of songs he wrote about you, and he— jay lets out a chuckle— a passerby. you came in like a wind, calling him your only one amongst the other people you had pulled in your whirl all along, and he leans against the railing, taking last sips of beer from his can.

a wind flows by— and you’re gone. 

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #11

synopsis: when aot characters get drunk🍺

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange

notes: exams are finally over and its SUMMAA so i switched up my theme, rip coquette hanjisungslag u will b missed x

☆ eren jaeger

loves a strong bow and a corona on a warm summers day x

is a lightweight

one beer and he is off his rocker

gets hyper in several different ways, happy, giggly, angry etc.

passed out by 22:00

☆ mikasa ackerman

she’s a cider girlie!!

loves a rekorderlig & kopparberg (strawberry & lime and mixed fruits specifically)

tries some people’s gins and vodkas and it ain’t for her

she’s a lightweight too

she’s so shocked how hard it hits her

she’s a lot more chatty and giggly

goes red in the cheeks > <

☆ armin arlert

he tries beer. doesn’t like san miguel. hates stella.

will take a corona on a sunny day though…

but he likes a cider!

he looovveesss any fruity drinks

he’s not a lightweight or heavyweight, good middle ground

gets sooo chatty

the type of drunk to info dump on you / talk about their special interests

☆ jean kirsten

drinks mostly everything. strongbow, cider, maybe be cheeky and have a rum!

also tequila tbh

he’s a bit of a lightweight tbh

but he refuses to admit it 😭

he’s a chill drunk, he’ll sit and chat and drink

but bro is RAVENOUS like he will eat a fuckin buffet and a half afterwards.

spends more money on food than actual drink

☆ sasha braus

AH SHE LOVES A PITCHER FROM SPOONS X

her, ymir and historia deffo get some refreshing, fruity pitchers between em all.

they’re literally just girls… 😖

she’s a lightweight duhhh!!

she’s 100% busting a move on the dance floor

there’s also a liability.

and she is that liability. she is constantly running off

☆ connie springer

 MY GUY IS A VODKA MAN I SAID IT

he gets sooo drunk

like i’m talking running away with sasha, doing karaoke, dancing, chatting to EVERYONEE

THE no 1. yapper when drunk

by the end of the night he was 10 new best friends, invited to three weddings and several after parties.

he’s deffo the one who ends up being sick but he’s so ready to drink afterwards😭(don’t let him)

☆ reiner braun

heavyweighhhhttt

he starts off with ‘man’ drinks like san miguel, stella etc.

HOWEVAA i know this man loves a voddy and coke and gin.

i just know when this man is pissed and wants another one he is getting his bloody pink gin

he’s rizzing people up sooo hard like reiner stawp 😜

he’s so sweet and pookie when drunk like he’s just chatting and hugging all his friends

☆ bertolt hoover

actually loves a san miguel

everyone’s so surprised by this?

he’s also a heavyweight

he’s tall ok, more of him to get drunk

when he’s drunk HES A TALKERR

it’s like it’s all been built up and now he’s exploding with words and conversations

deffo says way too much for his liking and regrets it deeply in the morning.

expect an apology message in the morning (even tho he has nothing to apologise for, bless)

☆ annie leonhart

heavy weight

this girl is on vodkas with lemonade hmk x

when she’s drunk she’s soo red

she’ll find someone to just sit and chill with

doesn’t want to embarrass herself or bring attention to herself.

she’s so funny when she’s drunk

pulls out ALL the stops when it comes to jokes

she’s always giggling at everyone doing some dumb shit

☆ levi ackerman

heavy weight!

he doesn’t drink much anyways

but if he is, its whiskey or tia maria in some coffee

he’s usually the one watching everyone, not getting too drunk

making sure no one is dead x

but he always ends up tipsy at the least

although he’s supposed to be baby sitting

he cant help but slightly smirking at anything anyone says.

☆ erwin smith

heavy weight once again

doesn’t like to get too drunk

he’s an old man now cmon

my man is drinking wine like merlot, pino, etc

he’s so elegant when drinking

but by the end of the night his hair is messed up baddd

he says loads of stuff and regrets it.

obviously it’s nothing too extreme but just him being silly

gets super sleepy though. wine drunk 🙁

☆ hange zoë

SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

literally adores shots

just goes crazy on them tbh

after an hour, they’re buying shots for EVERYOONNNEEE

definitely broke by the end of the night.

has to start giving themselves a limit every time they go out

ANYWAYS an absolute party animal

hitting up the clubs

hitting the DANCE FLOOR DUH!

[just-ray]

Red flags in my room

1. 24 cans of coke, an alcohol free kopparberg beer and a box of chocolate liquors

2. 7 bottles of arizona tea

3. 4 boxes of incense

4. The Irish Constitution

5. Bertie Aherns autobiography

6. A print of the tayto man as a stripper

[wooflesnoot]

Law & Legal work lesson with Cassie, a Kopparberg, and a lovely winter's day.

[aztrokraut]

Kopparberg Pear my beloved... Yet another win for alcoholism 😔

[alexbkrieger13]

About the Nwsl and Uswnt, an update and a history lesson is needed.

Nwsl has dropped the draft system. The players are now free agents. Just a matter of time before transfers start to happen.

For many years Uswnt was a club team. They lived together and trained together. Secondly they had the huge advantage of athletism and physical strength that is typical for American sports. Was basically just Sweden and Germany they couldn't bully physically. Then the rest of the world caught up in terms of physicality. A testament to that is they weren't ranked #1 in the world for a while. They had years and years of points that'd been slowly chipped away at.

Lastly, the Us federation has a habit to call up the national team outside of the international calender. They've played much more international games than the European teams through the years. Which means the Uswnt has more time to gel. 340-ish caps is something a European player can never reach. The most capped player in Europe is Seger and she has 240.

A couple of years ago when Uswnt was in Europe to play friendlies they met Sweden. They then arrived 3-4 days before the first game and had 3 days to the second friendly. That is normal for European teams. Lloyd said in an interview that was something new to them to not have so much time to prepare.

All of the above have to be factored into why Uswnt has been so dominant through the years. It has nothing to do with tactics. For the record Hayes isn't known to be a good tactician.

It's also interesting what Press has told about her first time playing in Sweden and her coach Torbjörn Nilsson in Kopparbergs/Göteborg, and in an interview done 7+ years ago. She was frustrated she didn't get instructions and brought it up with him eventually. He replied he'd noticed it was something bothering her. Then he explained he can't tell her what to do, because during a game she'd be taking 150 decisions and that he couldn't take them for her. Especially since she wouldn't hear him from the sideline all the time out on the pitch. In the interview she said she learnt the basics of football when she came to Sweden. They hadn't learnt that in college and she questioned why they hadn't been taught that. She'd noticed that all her team mates were so savvy on the ball. (Maybe it was Klingenberg and Engen who said the latter though. This was 10 years ago so...)

Good Roundup of all the stuff that's happened over the last few years

[tavyliasin]

9 People You Want to Know Better Tag

Tagged by @ankhegs-in-my-salad <3 I'll pop everything below the cut in case I get long and rambly because I know myself far too well to trust any answers will stay short~

Three ships:

Abdirak x He Who Was, my beloved Agenda, the pair so perfect they never leave my mind or my heart. I have read every work with the tag and will continue to devour any more that arise~

Raphael x Haarlep, the two fiends who also share no screen time but I'm utterly obsessed with their dynamics~ I will be getting back to longfics once I've recovered from life some more.

Gortash x Durge, there's just so much tasty lore in here and so many wonderful Durge OCs~

First ship: I am a basic bitch and BG3 fandom began for me with Astarion x f!Tav~ I still love the pair, I truly do, and their story will be finished someday in ATG but the rare pairs hold my soul hostage more often~

Last Song: Beautiful Crime by Tamer https://open.spotify.com/track/4NZKQIAbpUPd0jn0CzvRpS?si=0251195fca38430d

Last Movie: Ahh I don't remember... But I will be seeing the new Deadpool film later this week (and will bite anyone who decides to spoil a single detail about it, I've managed to avoid every single promo and trailer so I can go in knowing nothing which is how I enjoy films~) Currently Reading: Just finished a wonderful fic that I'm going to very highly recommend - https://archiveofourown.org/works/55999948 Mind the tags but it really is wonderful~

Currently Watching: Not a lot, I often lack the patience and focus to watch anything at all. But the Tav & Jav streams of BG3 have been quite a delight on Twitch, one of the few things I will force my mind to be still and enjoy for a few hours. They're finishing their first playthrough hopefully in the next one, which is both exciting and a little sad to see it end~

Currently Eating: Ah, thanks for the reminder! I have a small snack size banana loaf right beside me~ and I have a 0% alcohol cider, Kopparberg Strawberry and Lime to be precise, which is refreshing on a warm night such as this~

Currently Craving: Honestly? Creative drive and peace of mind. Struggling a little at present, but as with all dark clouds it will pass in time, it will just be unpleasant until it does. I miss writing like the world will end if words don't hit the page, but when a break is needed a break must be taken~

Favourite colour: Traditional goth answer, but my wardrobe backs me up that Black is top tier~

Favourite flavour: Hmmm this is tough. For savoury, I'm very partial to cheese, and with sweet I like chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon to a close to equal degree~

Current obsession: BG3, with a sprinkling of Hades/Hades2

Last thing I googled: Gortash. Single word, and I shall not be elaborating further at this time~

Favourite season: Autumn, for the most part~ Still warm, but a slight biting chill in the wind that makes it perfect for hot drinks and comforting foods~

Skill I’d like to learn: I'd quite like to master any one of the skills I already have. I'm quite a jack of all trades, master of none, so perhaps something such as mastering one of the several instruments I can play a little of might be good?

Best Advice: "You can't edit a blank page." As a writer this has been a solid piece of advice - your first draft doesn't have to be perfect, it simply has to exist, because you can edit something messy into something wonderful but if there are no words there's nothing to polish. Sometimes you just have to write a whole mess and worry about it making sense later~

No pressure tags for @miradelletarot @morb-untamed @eldathsgrove @dmagedgoods @ineadhyn @hydropyro @theemptyislost @thecampjuicebox @taskignored