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#bread and wine
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Das letzte Abendmahl, 1631-1632. von Peter Paul Rubens 
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andallshallbewell · 1 month
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scripture-pictures · 1 month
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misterparadigm · 1 year
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Happy Easter, folks! Mallory, Isaac, and Saki have traveled quite a long way to deliver Jesus his Easter basket. Somewhere along the way they turned into rabbits. It is what it is. Time travel is weird.
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likebreadandwine · 2 years
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And do you like Bread and Wine or It s only a name that you like?
I do like bread and wine! 🍞🍷
keen followers will know that my primary blog is @eatbread-besoft, where I have a whole hashtag just for bread: #must reblog bread
wine-drunk is such a pleasant feeling, maybe my favorite kind of drinking. I love a sangria in the summertime. I love a glass of red in the winter.
and the two together—enjoying melted brie on warm, toasted bread while sipping wine that makes my cheeks all rosy...
🥰 bread and wine!
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twicedailyquotes · 1 year
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These are things I can't change. Not one of them. Can't fix, can't heal, can't put the broken pieces back together. But what I can do is offer myself, wholehearted and present, to walk with the people I love through the fear and the mess. That's all any of us can do. That's what we're here for.
Shauna Niequist
Bread and Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table with Recipes
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daily-deliciousness · 5 months
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Beef tenderloin crostini with parmesan wine cream sauce
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fractangle · 10 months
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Pride month vest project, a patch a day #29: Wheat But Not Bread, Fruit But Not Wine
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gatalentan · 11 months
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LISA ANN WALTER ✏️ WGA STRIKE 2023 UTLA PICKET [x] (June 16 2023) SUPPORT WGA: INFO / ECF / SNACKLIST
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andallshallbewell · 1 month
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scripture-pictures · 8 months
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wolfythewitch · 5 months
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you know you you never gave me the vibe that you'd be christian. I dont mean that in any negative way, more like i would have expected you to be into some other religion like paganism or budism for some reason, but your jesus art is absolutely adorable
Yeah I get that a lot haha. You'd think with all the cannibalistic imagery that I would have the vibes but alas. Religious sanctification. I can talk about how the devouring of divinity is such an interesting concept because it implies there is an everpresent hunger or how Jesus' humanity is arguably more important than his divinity because it's his humanity that allows him to bleed but I don't think my church is ready for that
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phillipmedhurst · 2 years
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55/66 Headpiece to 2 Timothy by Simon Brett
55/66 Headpiece to 2 Timothy by Simon Brett Wood engraving by Simon Brett (British b. 1943) in The Reader’s Digest Bible (illustrated edition) 1990
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padawansuggest · 10 months
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Obi-Wan: Alright, men, what are we thinking right now?
Wooley: *shoved his lil hand up super fast* Oh, me! I got this one, me!
Obi-Wan: *waving his hand over them all* Hmmmmmmm- you. *points to Wooley*
Wooley: *fist pumps* Yes! Okay so I think we should throw Cody a decanting-day party with cheeses.
Obi-Wan: Cheeses?
Waxer: No he’s right, Cody likes cheeses. And caf. I think we should get him an espresso machine.
Obi-Wan: Those are super expensive, I have several contacts I can pout at till they buy me one. Why cheeses? I’ve never seen Cody’s apparently well known love for cheese.
Boil: Yeah, that’s cause he’s scared you’ll think he’s insane.
Obi-Wan: Okay, but, like, is this a fancy stinky cheese thing or is he gonna eat an entire block of store brand cheddar right from the package??? This is news to me and both have to be approached very differently.
Wooley: It’s the stinky one. They’re like SUPER icky but he loves them but he will eat them right from the package with nothing but bread at room temperature.
Obi-Wan: No, no, that’s how those ones are supposed to be eaten.
Wooley: Is gross tho.
Waxer: Idk I think they’re good if the bread is crunchy, but I like the not-as-smelly ones.
Boil: I’ll eat the store brand cheddar right from the block idk man
Obi-Wan: Awesome, I have an idea. Party at Padme’s house, new espresso machine that I’ll get… probably Bail, I haven’t annoyed Bail lately. I’ll get Bail to buy him an espresso machine. You guys get to come with me to look for cheeses, both fancy and store brand, but they will be on separate sides of the room so no one complains. I’m sorry, Boil, but this means you’ll be with Anakin and Ahsoka on the store brand side of the room.
Boil: The price of not smelling that stinky stuff is worth it every time.
Obi-Wan: Awesome. Best decanting-day party ever.
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cuubism · 1 month
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physical therapy, part 6.
--
Hob's been wavering on things like timeline with Dream because, well, he doesn't want to push, but he does obviously want more. There's a lot that he wants, and he thinks Dream wants it too. But Hob can be patient. Definitely. For sure. He's the epitome of patience.
In any case, after a few more dates which are oh so very patient, and in which Dream seems to be gradually coming more and more out of his shell, Hob finally takes the plunge and texts him:
If you want, come over to my place this weekend and I'll cook for you, and adds his address.
He paces nervously while waiting for a response. Dream coming over... he doesn't know how that would end. Well, it would hopefully at least end in Dream eating a proper meal, but other than that...
It's really not so long before he gets a response, though it feels like an eternity.
Okay, writes Dream, with a smile. 🙂 Should I bring anything?
Just yourself, writes Hob.
A shame, for I was planning to arrive incorporeally.
Hob smiles to himself at the comment. Dream is so much brighter once he decides he’s allowed to be.
On the agreed-upon date, Hob spends a truly excessive amount of time getting ready. He’s not even cooking anything elaborate, as he felt convinced he’d wind up fucking it up out of nerves if he did. But really, the quality of his food isn’t the wild card. What he’s nervous about is Dream’s response to being in his home. To being alone. Whether he’ll be okay with it. He doesn’t want to make Dream nervous.
But Dream arrives on time, and he’s smiling when Hob opens the door. He’s also carrying a huge canvas.
Oh!” Hob says, distracted from even kissing him hello. “What have you got there?”
“It is for you,” Dream says, and turns the canvas around so Hob can see it.
It’s a large painting of a rather clever-looking cat, bright colors and bold swathes of paint. It reminds Hob of Dream’s finger paintings, actually, but far more precise in technique. It’s lovely. It’s so cute. And much more playful than Dream’s older art, the pieces he had shown Hob from before his injury.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,”  he says, and Dream smiles shyly. “I take it your grip’s been feeling steadier, then?”
“Somewhat,” Dream says, following Hob deeper into the flat, as Hob takes the painting and sets it on top of a low bookshelf, propped against the wall. Later he’ll have to hang it up properly. “I am. Enjoying painting again. I think.”
It’s so good to hear. Each time Hob sees Dream he seems incrementally better. Less frozen. More outgoing. And it always makes Hob realize that he’s only gotten to see a fraction of the life that truly exists inside of him.
“I’m so glad to hear that, darling,” he says.
It hurts to think of the version of Dream that might have been there before being hurt. But Hob likes the Dream that he gets to know now.
He leads Dream into the kitchen and bids him to sit down at the table while Hob serves their food, which is staying warm on the stove. Normally, when he invites someone over, he’d offer them wine, but he doesn’t want Dream to get the wrong idea. God, he’s probably massively overthinking things. He’s being totally paranoid, he knows it. But it feels so important that it be right. He’d never forgive himself if he made Dream feel unsafe around him, even if it was by accident.
“I am curious what you’ve prepared to attempt to persuade me to change my habits,” Dream says, after taking a sip of the water Hob’s handed him.
“Something with a lot of butter,” Hob says, and Dream laughs softly. Dream needs it, though. He needs something that’ll stick to his bones.
What he has is tarragon chicken—fried in, truly, an excessive amount of butter—served over rice with string beans. If this can’t encourage Dream to eat real meals, nothing can.
And, gratifyingly, he’s right. Dream devours it, and has seconds. As he eats his own serving more sedately Hob wonders when the last time was that somebody actually cooked for him.
They barely even talk, but Hob doesn’t mind. He just wants Dream to eat.
“You can cook,” Dream says, and Hob laughs.
“Was that in question?”
A light blush graces Dream’s cheeks. “When you first mentioned cooking for me, I had the thought that you were a catch. For that reason among others.”
Hob can’t help himself from smiling—and perhaps blushing a bit, too. “I’ll have to keep it up, and maybe you’ll keep me.”
Dream looks down at his food, but murmurs, “I would like to.”
So Hob takes his hand on the table and squeezes it.
Later in the evening, when they’ve been ensconced on the couch for a while watching mindless telly, Dream’s head on his shoulder, Hob says, “You can stay over if you want. No expectations. Just don’t want you walking home in the dark.”
He’ll walk Dream home if that’s what he really wants, but it’s already midnight and it really might be easier to just stay put.
“Am I allowed to stay over in your bed?” Dream asks, and Hob’s pulse jumps.
“That’s what you want?”
Dream nods.
So, heart still beating hard, Hob says, “Alright. Come on, then.”
And Dream takes his hand as Hob draws him up.
He gets Dream situated with some of his pajamas, which are far too large on him, and with a spare toothbrush and so on, and when they’re finally ready he tries not to be too awkward or nervous as he climbs into bed and gestures Dream to follow, saying, “Come on, love.”
He expects Dream might hesitate, but he doesn’t, just crawls into bed after him and presses himself all up against Hob’s body, laying his head on Hob’s chest. And— God. He’s really decided that he trusts Hob. It puts a lump in Hob’s throat.
He feels like a fucking teenager again, stomach all fluttery just at the feeling of Dream lying against him. In past relationships, Hob had mostly jumped in sex-first, questions-later. But maybe there are more benefits to taking things slow than he thought. It makes every tiny thing feel monumental.
“Comfortable?” he asks, and Dream nods, hair brushing Hob’s chin.
“Yes, thank you.”
Hob pulls the blankets up over them, pets his hair. Dream lets out a long, happy sigh, and snuggles closer.
I’m going to keep you, Hob thinks. “Goodnight, Dream,” he says.
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nightsketching · 1 year
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[Fanart] Skyrim Food - Wine, Bread, Garlic and Elves Ears. [ Completed Full Illustration ] Small part of something bigger that will be posted monday, hence the quality... or lack thereof, but it looked neat on its own. And yeah, that woven ‘basket’ thing for the wine was hand drawn, you’re gonna stare at it and you’re gonna like it !
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