#Metal also works best if it is worked by hand and is infused with the desires and emotions of its creator.

[lar-mx]

writing prompt #7

A new enemy has appeared, nothing they try works. No magic swords, no sacred weapons, no cursed weapons, divine objects. The only way to defeat this new enemy is to challenge him to a duel and whoever challenges him has to use a weapon made "by hand" by the challenger and made of a very specific material. The problem does not "exist"; no one alive knows how to work with said material "manually", only a few with technology. Well, John knows someone not so alive but he only accepts a disciple every so often which is bad, although that moment is in a week which is good. The question is…who would be qualified to be his student?

[wifetomegatron]

i want to spoil megatron ( imagine, megatron / reader, first contact au)

My head is about to split open after my exam, but I can't stop thinking about what it would be like to spoil Megatron. To shower him with affection, gift him with luxury, and drape him in all the finest silks — mulberry and tussar, hand-picked and crafted from mollusks living in the deepest trenches of the Earth and worms hiding in the highest corners of the conifer forests. A part of him would be against it.

It was wrong. He refused for fear that such amenities were born out of inequality. You tell him that while such disparity exists in your world and that everyone should campaign against it and give relief when they can, you were not a billionaire controlling the flow of commerce, the railways, or the traffic in the air. And so letting himself indulge in a part of your world will not poison the soil or kill the trees. It won't send anyone into the hospital if you were to commission a sixty-foot-tall ergonomic chair made purely out of titanium metal for him to relax on while he reads. It would probably give the architect a headache, but it wasn't like you weren't paying them handsomely. (And any engineer or scientist would be thrilled to experiment, take a look at Brainstorm.)

Such symbiosis is one example of how there is a way for the finer things in life not to come at the expense of someone's pain.

It could just be the little pleasures in life.

Such as soaking for hours on end inside your bathtub. The hot, rose-infused water engulfs your body as you embrace one another. The mist rising off the water flushed your cheeks and soaked his cables — laughter echoing down the marble tiles. You had fallen asleep against him twice, and he was happy to hold you against his lap with a servo cradled across your chin to keep your head afloat.

It could also be sinking against the king mattress; his weight supported by the metal inserted in between the frames. Megatron thought it was excessive. The cost of fusing a recharging slab with all the soft padding must be expensive, and yet you had waved him off, beckoning him to lay down — and never before did he feel like staying in one spot forever. And never again did you hear him complain, content in stretching his arm out in the morning to pull you close to him, secure and pressed against his chassis as the sheets pile around like clouds. He didn't know such softness existed, and you pampered him with more — bits and pieces of comfort he doesn't feel deserving of.

As if he had invaded your castle, Megatron felt like an outsider to a life of feathers and flowers.

And yet you insisted. Comfort, safety, stability — these must all be so foreign and new and strange to him. Eons of working in the mines, of conflict and war. If anything, you feel a little lacking in your generosity. You always want to give the best for him. And so you never refuse your lover, even when he sheepishly asks whether you could get him a few physical copies of his latest binge.

He woke up to construction workers greeting him cheerfully, installing shelves and chandeliers in the library you had bought overnight for him. Megatron could only gawk by the stairs, speechless as you walked back and forth to oversee the truckloads of books in the mansion's driveway. Is this what you wanted? You asked innocently. And the ex-warlord had to curl his servos to fight back the urge to pick you up and smother you. No, he'll find a way to thank you later.

For now, Megatron is overwhelmed with your love and how it flows endlessly, almost heady at how his wishes are only a snap of fingers away with you as his lover. Forever will the guilt linger and consume him, but the shine of your smile always seems to chase their shadows away — brilliant like the set of pearls hanging off your ears. 

( basically, if megatron has a rich human s/o lol )

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hawkeye (Part II)

Summary: Clint reaches out to (Y/N) for help and after a visit with the physically and mentally taxed archer, she takes it upon herself to meet Hawkeye’s #1 fan and impart a little wisdom onto Clint’s young partner.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This week's chapter is a little longer because (a) I'm not sure I'll have Part III finished by next Thursday and (b) You guys deserve it!! There's a surprise character that'll pop up in the second half of this chapter and if you've seen Spider-Man: No Way Home, then I think you'll know who it is lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part II) December 21st, 2024 Apartment of Moira Brandon, East Village (Previous Chapter)

Out of all the Avengers she’d been introduced to during that fateful party at the Avengers Tower so many years ago, (Y/N) always had a secret soft spot for Clint Barton; he was equal parts kind and sarcastic, quickly noting the anxiety she’d been desperately trying to mask from the moment she arrived and taking the time to get to know her while simultaneously directing playful jabs at his fellow teammates. Their first meeting and team-up in the subsequent conflict with Ultron coupled with Natasha’s endless stories from their days of working together at S.H.I.E.L.D. cemented (Y/N)’s unbreakable trust in the archer, and it was that trust that led her to an average-looking East Village apartment building only four days before Christmas with a priceless and top-secret piece of S.W.O.R.D. technology tucked away in her messenger bag.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, (Y/L/N),” Clint smiled as he ushered her into the temporary safe house, checking up and down the hall before locking the door and leading her into the cozy living room. “See any of those idiot Tracksuits tailing you?”

(Y/N) shrugged her winter coat off and draped it over the back of the couch with a humorless chuckle. “Nope, but I almost wish I had; I could’ve used a good laugh or two after that horrendous traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge.” She folded her pink scarf in half and tossed it on top of her coat, meeting Clint’s eyes with a sardonic smirk beginning to spread across her face. “Wouldn’t you know, some dumb-ass archer decided to impale a Pym Particle-infused arrow into the Manhattan Bridge and create commute hell for anyone traveling in or out of Brooklyn?”

Rolling his eyes, Clint flopped down onto the well-worn couch and sighed in exasperation; he looked exhausted, with darkened circles under his eyes and a noticeable cut on his forehead. “Still a smart-ass, I see. For your information, I shot a Pym Particle-infused arrow at a regular arrow and then it impaled itself into the bridge.”

“Well, either way, I thought you’d like to know that Scott got his ass chewed out by Hank for that little stunt,” She replied in amusement and sat herself down on the couch beside him, taking a moment to adjust her sweater over her small baby bump before rummaging through her messenger bag. “Apparently, Hank’s not too fond of his life’s work being used for – and I quote – ‘stupid shit you see on the eleven o’clock news.’”

The archer scoffed at that. “I once saw the guy use Pym Particles to enlarge a goddamn chicken sandwich, but whatever.”

(Y/N) laughed as she withdrew a small metal case and handed it over to Clint. “Back-up hearing aid, as requested; my coworker said that this is one of the best on the market, so you should be well-covered if yours ends up breaking again.” He nodded in thanks and slipped the case into his pocket. Her former teammate’s recent hearing loss as a result of years of work as a S.H.I.E.L.D. spy, Avenger and vigilante inspired her to seek out Brooklyn College’s underfunded but resilient disability resource center; she studied ASL and learned enough to not only begin teaching Steve and Carina, but to also pre-film her lectures for any hard of hearing student who decided to enroll in her Introduction to American Popular Culture course. “And I looked into that socialite guy for you…” Activating the transparent S.W.O.R.D. tablet – a parting gift from Nick Fury before he traveled up to the organization’s newly-built space station – (Y/N) allowed it to scan her handprint and read off the information she’d collected. “Jack Duquesne, born into the obscenely-wealthy Duquesne family that’s apparently descended from European aristocracy. Since he’s seemingly never worked a day in his life, he’s had enough free time to become an expert swordsman and accrue a pretty impressive sword collection; is that what he was doing at that black market auction the other night?”

Clint nodded as he studied the images on the tablet’s screen. “He wanted to add the Ronin’s sword to his collection; according to Kate, he ran off with it after the Tracksuits crashed the auction, and then he almost took my head off with it when we broke into her mom’s penthouse this morning.” When (Y/N) thoughtfully tilted her head to the side, his frown deepened. “What?”

“When I did a little more digging, I found out that Duquesne is listed as the CEO of Sloan Limited. It’s a shell company, one that launders money for none other than-”

“The Tracksuit Mafia…” The archer exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Kate thinks that Jack Duquesne killed his uncle Armand. At first, I thought the idea of him becoming her stepfather someday was clouding her judgement but it’s looking like her instincts might’ve been right.”

Taking note of the stiffness in his movements and the weary tone of his voice, (Y/N) tucked the tablet back into her messenger bag as she gave him a sympathetic smile. “None of what I found out really helped you, did it?”

“It helped, (Y/L/N), it really did…” Clint hastily reassured her. “But I’m no closer to being able to go home for Christmas. I’ve got the suit and the sword, but Maya Lopez and the Tracksuits still have me and Kate connected to the Ronin and there’s a good chance that they’ve got Laura’s Rolex; I can’t leave until I track it down and figure out a way to stop the Tracksuits from targeting Kate, and I’ve gotta do all that before Kingpin gets involved.” He sat back and offered her a small smile. “The Barton Family Christmas hit a little speed-bump, as you can tell, so how’s the Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going so far?”

“Well, Carina helped us decorate cookies and gingerbread houses for the vets down at the VA hospital yesterday, and then she decided that our living room wall could use a thick coat of frosting as well.” Clint burst into laughter and (Y/N) couldn’t help but join him. “Steve’s convinced that she’s got the makings of an artist, but I just think she likes to keep us on our toes. And this little gumball…” Beaming, she rubbed a hand across her bump. “Moved for the first time this morning.”

“That’s amazing! Boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet, but we’re gonna open the envelope my doctor sealed for us together on Christmas Day and find out.” Memories of her first pregnancy and the overwhelming loneliness she struggled with unwittingly came to the forefront of her mind, but she forced herself to ignore them as she continued. “I’ve never really been one for big gender reveals, but after Carina’s…shall we say, unconventional birth and everything we’ve been through since, I just wanted this pregnancy to be special for us.”

A look of understanding crossed Clint’s bruised face, as he was one of the few Avengers who could empathize with desiring balance between a normal family life and the superhero life they’d been thrust into, but he merely smirked and jokingly replied, “Well, if you’re still thinking of baby names, I’ve always thought that Clint Rogers-(Y/L/N) had a nice ring to it.”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement. “Oh, really? You know, I’ve heard the same exact thing about Sam Rogers-(Y/L/N), James Bucky Rogers-(Y/L/N), Bruce Rogers-(Y/L/N), Thor Rogers-(Y/L/N), Korg Rogers-(Y/L/N) and Rocket Rogers-(Y/L/N).”

“I’m not usually one to judge, but I’ll totally judge you if you name your kid after a talking raccoon or a big pile of rocks.” When his chuckles died down, the archer’s blue-grey eyes softened as they looked between her face and the bump she was unconsciously cradling. “I’m really happy for you guys, and I know…I know that Nat and Tony would be, too.”

After flashing him a thankful smile, (Y/N) leaned her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her temple against the palm of her hand. “So, what’s this Kate Bishop like?”

“A pain in my ass,” Clint bluntly replied and when she lightly scoffed at his answer, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m serious! That kid’s cocky, reckless and she talks way too much…but I can’t deny that she’s a damn good archer and her instincts are sharp.” His brow arched as a thoughtful expression crossed his injured features. “You know, she reminds me a little of you, actually; she put that suit on to protect innocent people from the Tracksuits without a single thought for her own safety, just like how you volunteered to help an Air Force vet and a couple of wanted Avengers save the world from Hydra without a single thought for your own safety.”

(Y/N), detecting a hint of concern in her friend’s tone of voice, nodded in understanding. “You’re worried about her.”

Clint nodded. “Damn right I am. You were twenty-seven when you helped Steve, Nat and Sam stop Project Insight, and Kate’s only twenty-two; you understood the risks of getting involved in this sort of life, but Kate…she’s got blinders on. I tried to make her understand that I’m not a role model, that I’m not someone that people should look up to and that this life I’ve led for the past twenty years isn’t a game but like I already told you, she’s cocky and reckless.”

“She doesn’t know about the Ronin, does she?” When Clint shook his head, (Y/N) bit her lip and carefully contemplated her next words before speaking. “Maybe the reason you can’t get through to her is because you haven’t shown her the real you and she can sense that you’re hiding something from her; if you open up to her now, then you might be able to stop her from getting too deep into all this.” He shrugged his shoulder, but she could see that she hadn’t convinced him to confide in his reluctant partner; she glanced down at her wristwatch and hummed to herself. “Well, I should probably head out now if I want to beat the commute traffic to Brooklyn…”

“Yeah, and I should give Laura and the kids a call before I pass out from exhaustion.” Clint helped her to her feet and gave her a fond smile as she pulled her coat and scarf back on. “It’s been good seeing you, (Y/L/N), and I really appreciate your help. Tell Steve that I said hi and that he should totally name his second-born after one of his oldest and coolest friends, okay?”

“Sure thing, Hawkeye,” (Y/N) chuckled, slinging the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder as they walked over to the apartment’s front door and giving her friend a hug, careful of his bruised and battle-worn limbs as she did. “Good luck, Clint. You’re going to fix this and you’re going to make it home for your Barton Family Christmas and on Christmas Day, we’ll give you guys a call to let you know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” With a smile and a teasing salute, Clint opened the door and watched her head towards the building’s elevator before retreating into the temporary safe house.

(Y/N) stepped into the elevator and after the door slid closed, the uneasy feeling that had begun to form when the topic of Kate Bishop came up only seemed to deepen as the elevator descended. It was foolish to further embroil herself in Clint’s struggle against the Tracksuits; not only was she entering her pregnancy’s second trimester but if a powerful man like Kingpin caught wind that she was involved, it could put Steve’s secret life in jeopardy and their family’s safety at risk. But it was Clint’s comparison of Kate to (Y/N) that compelled her to pull the S.W.O.R.D. tablet out of her messenger bag and research the young archer’s cell phone number.

“I sure hope that I’m doing the right thing, Nat,” She murmured under her breath as she worked. “For Kate and for Clint’s sakes…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, (Y/N) was seated at one of the rickety metal tables outside Greenwich Village’s own Joe’s Pizza, patiently waiting for the twenty-two-year-old to work through her star-struck awe while she enjoyed a slice of pizza and scratched the young archer’s rescue Golden Retriever behind his ear.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I’ve met two Avengers in less than a week! Is this, like, some sort of a superhero test? Or a trial period or somethin’? I mean, I’ve only been in four-ish fights so far…or wait, was it five? I don’t know, I can’t really remember ‘cause I’m pretty much running on caffeine and adrenaline at this point,” Kate nervously chuckled, a little out of breath as she finally stopped rambling and attempted to rearrange her excited features into a nonchalant smile. “…So, um, what can I do for you, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Please, just call me (Y/N).” Smiling, (Y/N) took another bite of her pizza slice and used it to point at Kate. “I’ve heard a lot about you from our mutual friend, so I wanted to meet you for myself.”

The young archer’s brows raised almost comically. “R-Really? Wow, that’s really…was it all good things you heard?”

“Mm-hmm, and I also saw the video of you rescuing this good boy on the news.” The one-eyed Golden Retriever nuzzled his face against her lap and perked up when she tore her slice of pizza in half, wolfing it down in record time once she offered it to him. “He’s lucky that someone as skilled as you came along when you did.” After watching the dog enjoy his chunk of pizza, she looked back up at Kate and sobered as her eyes fixated on the steri-strips that closed the lacerations that were scattered across her youthful face. “Actually, I asked you to meet me here because I wanted to talk to you about this case you’re working with Clint.”

Kate slumped in her seat, a dejected frown beginning to form on her injured face while she took a halfhearted bite of her pepperoni pizza slice. “You think I should stay home and let Clint handle it, don’t you? That’s what my mom thinks, too; she didn’t say anything about it to me, but I know she thinks I’m crazy for doing this. I mean, I’m just a civilian and Clint’s a freaking Avenger, so I guess I see why it’s nuts that I’m helping him out, but I…I can’t just sit back when I know that I can help.”

Smiling a little to herself, (Y/N) dabbed at her lips with a napkin and shook her head. “Kate, I’m the last person on the planet who’d ever tell you to stay home and ignore the instinct to help. I was just a civilian when I helped Steve, Nat and Sam take down Hydra – an unpublished historical-fiction novelist with a part-time job at the V.A., who just so happened to be one of only two people in D.C. that a couple of wanted Avengers could trust. They tried their hardest to make me stay home and out of danger but I refused, because I knew that I could help them. I had to help, no matter what, and nothing they’d say could change my mind.”

“So, you understand why I’m still helping Clint?” The young archer’s expression brightened and she sat up in her seat. “That’s great!” When (Y/N) didn’t immediately answer, her head tilted to the side in confusion. “…Isn’t it?”

“You and I are a lot alike and because I see so much of myself in you, I wanted to tell you what I wish someone had told me ten years ago, when I took my first steps into the life of an Avenger.” (Y/N)’s fingers caressed the content Golden Retriever’s fur, taking small comfort in his calming presence as she continued. “When you choose to spend your life trying to help people, there’s going to be consequences you’ll have to face. Some of the consequences won’t come as a surprise – the fights and battles have taken a physical and mental toll on me, for example, and I’ll have to live with their effects on my body and on my mind for the rest of my life – but others will. From the moment it began, my entire career’s been called into question; you see, people assume that my success is due to my long-time association with the Avengers and not the writing skills I’ve worked my ass off developing and perfecting. I lost any chance at anonymity or a private life when I announced my engagement to Steve Rogers. I became estranged from my family, because they didn’t approve of my relationship or my association with the Avengers. I went through the joy of befriending some of the kindest and most misunderstood people in the world, and then I was forced to mourn them in a way that no one but my fellow Avengers could ever understand; the world lost Iron Man, Black Widow, Black Panther and the Vision, but I lost Tony, Nat, T’Challa and Vis.”

Kate bowed her head and stared down at the discarded pizza crust on her plate. “And you lost Steve, too.”

(Y/N) nodded mutely, careful to keep up the ruse that Steve Rogers died in the Battle of Earth and wasn’t currently wrapping Christmas gifts with their fifteen-month old daughter in their Brooklyn home. “When you face the threats that Clint and I have faced, you have to accept that there’s going to be things that you lose along the way. I don’t tell you any of this to dissuade you, Kate, far from it; I’ve always believed that if you feel that you can help, then it’s your moral obligation to do so.” She reached across the table and rested a comforting hand atop Kate’s, giving her a small smile when her eyes finally met hers. “But it’s important that you know that this life isn’t easy, and it’s only fair that you hear it from one of the only Avengers who stumbled into this life the way you have. Do you understand?”

Kate nodded, and the brief silence that filled the air as (Y/N) finished her slice of pizza was broken by a timid question. “Do you know who the Ronin is?”

“…I know who they used to be,” (Y/N) carefully replied. “But if you want to know more about the Ronin, then you’ll have to ask Clint.”

“Urgh, I knew you’d say something cryptic like that. Hey, what’re Clint’s favorite Christmas movies and does he have any strong opinions about ugly Christmas sweaters?”

After (Y/N) helped Kate plan out the perfect mini-Christmas party for a homesick Clint, she bid the young archer and her energetic Golden Retriever goodbye and watched them both stroll down the sidewalk with a fond smile on her face. It was clear to her that Kate’s heart was in the right place, and that perhaps she was the perfect person to help Clint move on from the Ronin as well as resolve the ongoing conflict with the Tracksuits. I just hope they’ll both stay safe, she thought as she anxiously bit her lower lip and stroked her small baby bump, her mind preoccupied with a myriad of the worst possible outcomes to the archers’ partnership.

“Here you go, Ms. (Y/L/N): one large chicken and olive pizza to go,” The young worker’s sudden appearance shook (Y/N) out of her heavy thoughts and after setting the pizza box down, he started to bus the table with a small smile on his face. “Need any packets of Parmesan cheese or red pepper flakes?”

“No, thank you, I-” (Y/N) cut herself off when her eyes caught sight of a familiar well-worn paperback sticking out of the teenager’s back pocket and she felt herself begin to grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a copy of For Queen and Country with its original cover art. How’re you enjoying it?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s one of my favorite books!” The young worker’s gaze briefly met hers as a light blush dusted his cheeks; there was a brief flash of grief in his brown eyes – a deep sort of grief that looked entirely out of place in the eyes of a teenager – but it soon vanished when a bashful expression graced his features. “I’ve been a fan for a pretty long time, Ms. (Y/L/N), and I was actually workin’ up the courage to come out here and ask you for your autograph. I don’t wanna bug you or overstep-”

“Of course I’ll autograph your copy!” (Y/N)’s smile widened as he stammered out a brief thanks and scrambled to hand her the paperback and his server’s pen. “Who should I make it out to?”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” Again, (Y/N) was struck by the strange emotion that flashed across his face, but what gave her pause was the sudden familiarity that his name brought her; she couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the teenager’s name tugged at the far reaches of her mind. Doing her best to shrug the unsettled feeling off, she jotted down a brief greeting and signed her name before blowing on the drying ink and handing the book and pen back with a smile. “Thanks a lot, Ms. (Y/L/N)! It was good seein’ you agai-um, sorry, I think my manager’s callin’ me, happy holidays!”

Peter Parker, who’d abruptly turned as white as a sheet, shoved his book and pen into his pocket and scooped up the dirty dishes before practically sprinting back inside. (Y/N)’s brow arched at his odd shift in behavior, but gathered up her pizza box and strode down the sidewalk to where she’d been lucky enough to park her yellow Volkswagen Bug. After securing the pizza in the car’s front trunk (or ‘frunk,’ as Sam liked to jokingly call it), she carefully climbed into the driver’s seat and waited a moment for the baby to settle down before dialing Steve’s cell phone number.

“Hey, sunshine! How was your visit with Clint?”

“Productive, for the most part; he has an idea of who the middle-man between Kingpin and the Tracksuits is, but he’s still not sure how to stop them from targeting him and his new friend Kate or uncovering Laura’s past. I also had a quick chat with Kate over lunch, which is why I’m bringing home a chicken and olive pizza from Joe’s; you should also know that your offspring conned me into buying it.”

Steve chuckled. “Oh, they did, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, and you should count yourself lucky that it was only pizza; at four months pregnant with Cari, I was craving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos dipped in vanilla ice cream,” (Y/N) snickered as her husband made a sound of disgust on the other end of the call. “Oh, and the strangest thing happened as I was leaving! Do we know a Peter Parker from anywhere?”

“…I don’t think so, but the name sounds awfully familiar.”

“Right? There’s something strange about it but I can’t put my finger on-” A recognizable babbling in the background of the call caused her to stifle a giggle. “Someone’s feeling chatty today, aren’t they?”

“I think that last episode of Sesame Street might’ve riled her up a bit; you know how much she loves when the Count makes an appearance,” Her husband remarked before calling out, “Cari, did you wanna talk to Mama? Mama’s on the phone right now.”

The gibberish grew louder as the infant toddled over and happily exclaimed into the phone. “Mama!”

“Hi, lemon drop! I’ll be home really soon, okay? Mama loves you!” (Y/N) smiled to herself, listening to their daughter’s incoherent mumbling grow faint as Steve regained control of the cell phone. “I should be home in a half an hour or so, depending on how backed up the bridge is.”

“Fingers crossed that all the city’s archers decide to leave the Brooklyn Bridge un-impaled for the afternoon commute.” Steve joked. “You can tell me all about Clint and his new partner over pizza and my famous green smoothies. I love you, sunshine.”

She gave her phone an exaggerated air-kiss that made Steve huff out a quiet laugh. “I love you too, sweetheart, and I’ll see you soon.”

After hanging up the call and tucking her cell phone into her messenger bag, (Y/N) started the car’s engine and turned up the radio, the local station’s Christmas playlist already playing through the speakers. “Okay, gumball, your daddy promised to make us a smoothie, so let’s get this show on the road.”

Pulling away from the curb, (Y/N) hummed along to the upbeat Elton John track in the hopes that the music would distract from the unsettling feeling beginning to take form in the pit of her stomach, but the tune wasn’t enough to make her shake the suspicion that someone was watching her from afar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Who do you guys think was watching (Y/N)?? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Hawkeye (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[fadingdaggerr]

rose infusion - l.w.

pairing: (college) larissa weems x gn/fem!reader (reads more fem but no gendered terms/pronouns for r)

summary: larissa smoking weed for the first time with a “good friend” (and r practically foaming at the mouth over her the whole time)

warnings: marijuana use, smoking, shotgunning smoke for the plot, rolling tutorial, discussion of drug use, making out, references to drinking, friends to lovers <3

note: this was fun to write considering smoking is one of my very few talents /lh. i also based a lot of the background on stuff that’s i’ve done or seen when i lived on campus lol

after probably breaking several traffic laws, i finally got to my destination. amir’s house was up the street a little ways, but i desperately had to change my clothes. putting my car in park, i fling my upper half into the backseat in search of the spare clothes i left there to change into. after a delightful struggle to remove my work uniform of khakis and a black button up, i finally got my jeans and long sleeve on. the black converse sneakers could stay, they were only part of the uniform that i had any say in.

opening the glove compartment to my right, i fish around until my hand knocks against a heavy piece of metal and a sandwich bag. grinder, check. weed, check. i look in my middle console, blindly moving the napkins and random plastic utensils until i find my prize, slowly raising it out like a claw machine. baby blue lighter, check. papers were the only thing missing.

i drive up the road, praying they remembered, then clapping to myself when they did, i see the spot in the driveway they left open for me. once in park again, i grabbed the grey, oversized zip up from my backseat, wrapping it tightly around me as i began to make my way to the house. finally making it to the door, i open to a sea of people. dancing, talking, yelling, oddly dangerous making out on top of the oven, beer cans littering the floor, and loud music blasting through the speakers. this was definitely an ‘amir and co. party,’ as it had been coined by himself, and himself only.

i find him by the makeshift pong table, a bookcase that has been brought face down, balancing on milk crates placed at each corner. incredibly stupid, but inventive, so i let this one slide.

“oi, you got papers?” i say loudly as i stand to his left, trying to be heard over the music.

he yelps, “you scared the shit out of me, you god damn ghoul,” he sinks a ball into a cup, followed by a happy fist bump to his partner, tomas.

“nice one. now, papers?”

“nah. go check out back i’m sure one of them has a pack of ‘em. if you can’t find any, sneak to my room and use one of my glass pieces. i don’t need you cranky at my party,” he smiles to me, before groaning at mikal when he lands a ball in a cup.

“you’re the best,” i say, turning and walking towards the back porch. i had opened at work, and been asked to stay later, and i wanted, no needed, was to sit and smoke in peace.

i get outside, and find my usual smoking buddies. i greeted them, gladly accepting a hit off of one of their pipes. after asking, more like begging” for only one or two papers, i was gifted five little sheets, and a couple spare filters dominic had prepared before the party.

“if i wasn’t gay, i’d so kiss you for this,” i joke.

“if we’re both gay, does it cancel out?” he jokes back, and we talk back and forth for a bit. i move to sit down to finally roll for myself, my very own joint. all i had been thinking about since leaving work.

i put some weed in the grinder, turning and turning the cover. grabbing one of the papers, i gently fold it in half to create a crease for the bud to sit. just as i reach for the grinder, the seat next to me dips down. i almost made a comment telling them to get lost, thinking it was amir coming to fiend off of me. every cell in my body thanked me for looking before i spoke.

when i looked to see who sat next to me, i’m greeted by the greatest sight for sore eyes the gods have ever created. larissa weems. ever since freshman year move in day when i first spoke to her in the hallway, she’s been the only thing on my mind. we had somehow been in the same english class every semester for the last three years, and i always had admired her from afar. she was always top of the class, peer reviews showed her masterful writing, and sitting close to her let me see her kindness up close.

we had become friends. most of first year we were just ‘school friends’ mostly, only sharing the one class each semester and sitting close to each other. second year the ongoing classes together became funny coincidences, now sitting directly next to her and coming in early to talk with her in the longue. this year, third year, andrea started crushing on tomas, so they both were becoming frequent guests of amir’s house, and larissa and i would just sit and talk the whole time.

i took her in, still not used to her outside of a school setting, or with her hair down for that matter. she had her long legs covered by light blue jeans, a fitted, white university t-shirt, and a golden necklace with a sun pendant. she finally looked back at me, realizing she had sat with someone.

“oh, hey,” she said shyly, eyes only looking in mine for a second, like she was checking to see if i was bothered by her presence. i was most definitely not.

“hey, larissa. i didn’t know you’d be here tonight, how are you?” i pray to every god that could hear me that i sounded normal.

“i’m good, i guess. and i’m here because andrea dragged me here. tomas asked her to come by and she ‘had to say yes’ because finds him ‘yummy in eight languages.’ her words, not mine,” she shakes her head at the thought. i fake gag muttering ‘straight people’ with a shiver, making her bark out a laugh.

“i definitely wouldn’t word it that way, not even if i was held at gun point, but tomas is a sweetheart. andrea’s in good hands, a little stupid, but good,” she laughs at this, tomas wasn’t known for being the brightest student, but he was the kindest kid out there.

“anyways…” wanting to get away from the topic of andrea and her conquests, i change the subject. “you decided to join us here in the smoking lounge. can’t say i’m not surprised, you never mentioned that you smoked,” i say lightheartedly.

“i don’t. well, i guess it’s more that i haven’t. this is the first year i haven’t lived in a dorm since before high school. never really got the chance,” she looks almost embarrassed by her confession.

“that’s totally fine. did you… did you want to? you can smoke with me, if you want. if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. i don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything,” i make eye contact with her to try and prove my honesty, wanting her to know she’s not going to be judged.

“i want to… i just have a dumb question first,” she says in a small voice.

“no such thing as a dumb question, i’ll tell you anything you want to know,” i give her a assuring smile.

“is there a way… to make it, i don’t know. is there a way to make it not taste as gross as it smells?” she asks unsurely.

i think for a second. when we were in high school amir and i would take mint and lavender from his mom’s garden to lessen the smell. this wasn’t an option now, seeing as amir’s apartment was closer to growing blue cheese than mint, but mr. cho next door had a rose bush. i close up my grinder, and put the papers and baggie of weed under it, using it’s weight to secure them there. i stand up, offering my hand to larissa. she slowly reaches out, placing her warm hand in mine. her hand is so soft, and the weight of it in mine grounds me.

i pull her in the direction of the fence that lines the yard, stopping when i reach the hole that brings you to the other yard. i drop her hand, and get lower to slide through the opening, but before i can, she grabs my elbow.

“what in fresh hell do you think you’re doing?” she whisper yells at me, not letting go of my arm.

“getting something to help with the taste, you asked if there was a way. i’m getting the way,” i say, trying and failing to loosen her grip by shaking my arm.

“that is someone’s yard, you’re gonna be trespassing,” she said, making it clear that she was not coming with me.

“you’re worth it,” i say, and she goes to say something but i cut her off, “plus, i’m barely going into the yard, just to the side of the house to grab one little, tiny thing. he’s asleep i’m sure, he’s like a thousand years old and he only has a cat,” and with that, i drop down, finally losing her grip. i carefully go through the fence, trying not to get dirt on my clothes.

i look back, seeing larissa staring back at me. i wave to her, she lets out an breathy laugh before waving back. i run low and quick across the yard, coming up next to a rose bush. i stick my hand just a little, a few thorns digging into the top of my hand and wrist, but i pluck the head off of one rose. looking around, i make sure i’m in the clear, before grabbing swiss army knife from the pocket of my sweatshirt, detaching a perfect rose from the rest of the bush, closing and sliding the knife back in my pocket. i turn and head back to the fence, sliding under it. i pop back up into standing position, the head of the rose in my palm, the full one hidden by my sleeves.

“tada!” i say with a smile, “this should help a bit with the taste, and the smell.”

“you trespassed, on a man old man’s property, for a rose bud.”

“yes, now let’s go,” and with that, i begin making my way back to the porch. larissa follows after a second, walking by my side. she walks around the table, i follow her with my eyes as she moves to sit back down, a little shiver going up her spine as she does.

i grab and open the grinder, tearing up little pieces of the rose and adding it to the already grinded weed. ideally this would be dried rose, also ideally not from mr. cho’s yard, but the fact that i would be smoking with larissa made both of those facts mean nothing to me.

“i’m guessing you don’t know how to roll,” i state, looking larissa as she nervously plays with her hands, she shakes her head, confirming my assumptions. “that’s okay, i’ll show you. come here,” i motion her to come closer, and she immediately does, making me blush just as fast.

“you do it, i’ll talk you through. sound good?” i ask her, she nods, “okay, gently hold the paper in half the long way,” she does. “good, now reopen it, and put a filter in at the end,” i pass her a filter, my skin tingling at the short brush of our fingers. she lays the filter against the end closest to her left hand, “now, we just add the weed and rose, then the hard part.”

she looks at me desperately at the mention of ‘the hard part,’ i place my hand on her knee and caress the skin with my thumb, “nothing you can’t handle.” i don’t miss the blush that creeps up her neck, but i hope she missed mine.

i watch as she sprinkles the weed and rose mixture into the paper. long fingers grabbing small bundles of the plants, distributing it evenly. her rings make little noises as her hands move, and i can’t help but watch. she looks at me for confirmation each time before adding more, i only stop her by putting the cover back on the grinder.

“alright, now we roll it, get it all packed and into the right shape. it doesn’t have to be perfect, most of the time they look quite sad,” she giggles at the last bit, and my heart flutters, my smile growing.

i adjust her hands, showing her the motion to make, but when she gets frustrated and mutters something about “should be smart enough to figure it out,” i stop. i grab her hands, moving them manually, showing her the motion myself. she initially freezes, and my hands drop from hers with an apology ready on my lips, but she pulls them back with a ‘it’s okay, i’m just jumpy.’

my eyes go back to her hands, my own coming to help her again. she takes a deep breath, before focusing on the motion harder than before. after i see that she had gotten used to it, i moved away, watching the small smile on her face grow from pride.

“now, we seal it up. tuck, roll, lick, twist, done,” i say quickly, she chuckles warmly. “okay, for real this time. wrap this around the weed, start by the filter,” i start the tuck for her to show her, she quickly understands what to do next, beginning to finish rolling it up. she looks at me for the next direction.

“you have to lick it,” i say, barely being able to look her in the eyes, “ya know, to seal it.”

“is that really necessary?”

“what did you want a little water dish to dip your fingers in? that’s marijuana not a spring roll there, babe,” her eyes widen at the pet name, mine do too. i was not expecting myself to call her that either.

she looks at me before asking, “can you do it? i don’t want to mess it up.”

“you wouldn’t,” i say quickly, not liking how she talked down on herself twice now, “but i can do it, if you want,” she quickly passes her little creation to me, “this looks much better than the first joint i ever rolled, you should be very impressed.”

“i’ve had a pretty great teacher,” she says with a smile, but i’m frozen because her hands hadn’t left mine yet, both our hands cradling the almost finished joint.

with all my strength, i move my hands away from hers. i make eye contact with larissa, raise the joint to my mouth, poke my tongue out, and drag it alone the paper. her eyes are not subtle as they watch my tongue with intent, instead of my eyes. sealing it, i grab a twig off the ground to pack it down, then twist the end. i hold the joint by the filter and hold it up.

“our marijuana and rose mixture, m’lady,” i say with a smile that she matches instantly. i hold it out to her, offering the first hit, but she shakes her head.

“you first, it’s your stuff and you were patient enough to help me. plus you trespassed on someone’s lawn, lots of hard work,” she quips, making me laugh. i was not going to live down the rose bush, was i?

placing the joint between my lips, i look around for my lighter. it had just been on the table, i was sure of it. my head whips around a couple times before i hear a little click, click click.

larissa hold up the lighter, flame glowing. the orange hue lights up her face, her pale skin warmed by the fire. she was so close to me, faces only about a foot apart, knees touching as we faced each other on the couch. the shadows of her face and hands accentuated, her lipgloss shining, eyes reflecting the light. i knew in that moment that nothing more beautiful had ever existed.

she brought the flame to the twisted end of the joint, lighting it gently. no words between us, eyes on each other. i inhale for a few seconds, hoping to get it started as well as calm myself, before my hand rises to my lips to allow myself to exhale. i hold it out for her to grab, but she doesn’t move.

i lower my hand, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, i’ll put it out if you want.”

“it’s not that, i just don’t want to make a fool of myself. you know, like cough my lungs out in front of you,” she looks at her lap the whole time, twisting her rings around her beautiful fingers. goosebumps grow on her arms as the wind picks up, the sun now past the horizon.

i sit up as i start talking, “you will not make a fool out of yourself,” i slip off my zip up, “everyone coughs when they smoke, if they make you feel bad about they’re idiots,” i hold out the sweatshirt for her, “and i most definitely will never think anything bad of you.”

she accepts the sweatshirt with a hesitant grasp, but once she puts her arm through one sleeve, she’s rushing to pull it fully on. she wraps it around her, i’m giddy at her in my clothing, but i try to remain calm.

“i mean, there is a way that might make you cough less. but it’s a little different and i’d be in your personal space,” i say, not wanting to pressure her or scare her away.

“what is it?” her eyes perk up, looking into mine.

“it’s called shotgunning. basically i’d take the hit, then exhale it into your mouth while you inhale, like passing it along. you can say no, i know it’s weird.”

“i wouldn’t mind you in my personal space,” she whispers, “i’ll try.”

i look at her quickly, making sure she’s serious, and she definitely was. i mumbled ‘okay’ before bringing myself closer to her. i stand on my knees, straddling one of her thighs. one hand on her shoulder, the other holding the joint. i slowly get closer, but she seems to be more impatient. her hands move to my waist, pulling me closer quickly. now fully straddling her, i decide to stay standing on me knees, my hand now around the back of her neck.

i bring her face closer to mine, she tilts her head back just in the slightest while her hands slide down to hold my thighs. i lean over her, moving my hand up to cup her face, stroking her jaw. i look into her eyes, asking permission once again, and she nods.

smoke fills my lungs and mouth, the joint resting between my lips, pulled away a couple seconds later. the smell of weed and a hint of rose surrounds us, but it’s nothing compared to her perfume. i raise my eyebrows while looking at her, letting her know to start inhaling.

i exhale slowly, my lips puckered so no smoke is wasted. smoke smoothly starts to flow my from mouth to hers, her hands grip was steady the entire time, my thumb never stopping the slow, circular motion against the bottom of her jaw. when all the smoke cleared my lungs, i watched her exhale a paler cloud. still perched over her lap, i take a hit from the joint again, this time for myself. i exhale slowly again, blowing the smoke up and away from her, not only to be polite but as to not cover her face.

her hand grabs my wrist, pulling it towards her mouth, this time taking a hit on her own. my eyes never leave her lips, watching as they wrap around the filter and how they leave a shiny print of her lips from her lipgloss. how the smoke leaves her mouth, swirling and dancing around her. her and i just look at each other for a minute before she squeezes my thigh and speaks up.

“i prefer your way,” she whispers, a tiny smile toying at her lips. my heart races.

“i think i do too,” i say back, though i wasn’t just thinking it, i’m fully in love with the idea. i never wanted her fo smoke another way ever again, always like this, me in her lap and her hands on me. i would be content living as her personal cigarette holder. taking another hit, i tap my thumb against her jaw, telling her to inhale once again.

by the time the joint is halfway down, she tells me she ‘believes it’s starting to kick in’ with a slightly more dopey smile, eyes now lightly tinted red. thighs beginning to tire from holding myself up on the cushions, i decide to sit down on her thighs. her stiffens, only for a moment, until her hands comfortingly rub my own thighs, before her hands slide up to my waist, pinching my side playfully.

she takes a hit herself again, choking on the smoke a bit when i bend away from her. i crawl off her lap, grabbing the rose i had plucked for her. i guarded the rose from her sight, i use my knife to remove the thorns so they wouldn’t hurt her.

“what is that you’ve got?” she asks through a giggle, trying to peek over my shoulder. her efforts unsuccessful as i practically fold myself in half to block her view.

“none of you business, now just sit there and look pretty,” i laugh, then wince as i jab my ring finger into a thorn. once the last thorn is removed, i look over my shoulder to look at her. her eyes are already on me, big, blue, and beautiful. “close your eyes,” she does so without hesitation.

i grab the joint from her hand, placing it in my lips, “okay, pretty. open,” i let smoke come out between my words. i had the rose held out to her, nervous smile on.

her eyes open, first focusing on my face then the rose. her smile grows instantly, eyes now flicking between the flower and i. i held it out a little more, urging her to take it.

she tentatively reaches out, hand grazing mine. her fingers wrap around the stem, eyes watering a little, “for me?” her voice was so small.

i nod, letting go of the flower so she can inspect it. her smile makes me heart race and stomach fill with butterflies, but the way she looks at the flower is what makes me weak. she looks at it like it’s precious, like i have gifted her the first rose to ever grow. her arms move around my shoulders within seconds.

“thank you,” she whispers into my ear, my arms wind around her waist, squeezing tightly. i mumble an ‘of course’ into her hair, i nuzzle my nose into her. when we part, she stays close to me. i roll another joint while she rests her head on my shoulder, her eyes watching my actions closely.

with the joint in my mouth, bringing the lighter up to the end. before the flame can reach, a pale hand swipes the lighter from my hand. she lights it in her own, lighting the joint for me. her eyes stay on mine as i inhale, hold, and exhale, still making the point to exhale away from her face. she stays facing me, an expectant look on her face.

with her face held in my hand again, i take another drag, exhaling slowly into her mouth again. she smiles, i smile back. the slider door opens, and larissa nearly jumps out of her skin, but doesn’t move from my side. andrea peeks her head out, grinning largely when she sees larissa. as she makes her way over, she grabs the joint from me, taking a hit, and puts it back between my fingers.

“okay, so on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i stayed the night here?” andrea asks larissa, begging hands in front of her.

a sigh leaves larissa, “solid 8. you’re going to make me walk back to the apartment alone?”

andrea is practically pleading, larissa is irritated. i turn and see tomas in the window trying to see the outcome of this conversation. i shake my head at his antics. i take a long pull off the joint, breaking the ash off and putting it out, then cutting andrea off.

“alright! you have fun with tomas, just don’t use the bathroom in the hallway. boys live here,” they both look at me weird, “larissa, i’ll walk you home, if you want,” she smiles softly. andrea squeals loudly, running inside, no doubt to tomas.

“you don’t have to walk me home,” is all larissa says.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to. i would offer to drive you but,” i pointedly hold up the joint and take a drag, “so i will gladly be walk you home.”

— — — — — — —

the party had died down, the only people left were amir and his three roommates, some ‘too drunk to leave’ stragglers, larissa, andrea, and i. sitting on the couch inside, larissa’s head was resting on my shoulder, an arm wrapped lightly around mine. andrea and tomas slowly disappeared from the living room, larissa and i both chuckling at the clumsy duo sneaking away.

i lean my head onto hers, speaking into her hair, “want to head home?” the only response i receive in a gentle nod against my shoulder.

i begin to stand, saying my goodbyes, then give mikal and amir hugs. larissa finally stands, wobbly for a moment. she makes her way to stand by my side, polite goodbye and thank you’s sent to the guys. after grabbing my grinder and weed bag, i pick around the pockets of my sweatshirt, which was still on larissa. finally getting a hold of my keys, i pull her gently along to start the leave.

the air had gotten much colder during our time inside, my arms wrap around myself tightly. there was no way i was going to ask for my sweatshirt back, the view of her wearing it was enough to keep the cold from consuming me. always observant, larissa notices my shivering and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her side. my own arm goes beneath the sweatshirt, hand now resting on her waist.

i pull the remainder of the joint from earlier, it’s a little bent but can still do the job. i hand larissa the lighter, and she takes the hint, lighting it for me as she had previously tonight. we pass the joint back and forth as we walk.

“thank you, for tonight,” she says when we’re about half way to her apartment, she’s gently playing with the rose between her fingers.

“of course. i wanted to make sure you got home safe. and you’re welcome over to smoke, or not, whenev- i mean if you want,” i say, hoping that she’ll take me up on my offer to at least hang out. i just needed her presence, she was too beautiful to lose.

“be careful with that offer, you may never get rid of me,” she chuckles, smile bright and eyes glowing. she was a star plucked from the heavens and placed here on earth, just for me.

“maybe that was the plan all along,” my voice is quiet, i’m stuck in a trance by her beauty.

we arrive at her building, climbing shaky stairs to her door. she opens the door, motioning for me to come inside with her, and i follow with no hesitation. she walks quickly down the hall, to what i assume is her room, before coming back out with a sweatshirt. with an amused smile, she hands me her own cream colored zip up to wear.

we sit crisscross on the couch facing each other, my arm resting on the back of the couch to hold my head up. larissa just sat up, playing with her hands in her lap as we spoke.

“why did you give me that rose?” she asks, her eyes back on my face.

i can only be honest with her, “because it’s pretty, and so are you. i didn’t really think much before cut it, just that i wanted to give you a flower.”

she presses her lips together to hide her smile, but the blush on she cheek betrays her. when she finally allowed herself to look at me, she whispers, “do you actually think i’m pretty, or are you just high?”

i’m taken back by the question, my heart cracking at her thinking i wouldn’t find her beautiful. i reach for her hands, leaning close to her, “i think you’re beautiful. i always do, sober included,” i tilt my head to catch her eyes that dropped to our hands, “i gave you the rose because i like you. like a lot, like so much that amir has banned me from talking about you when we’re in the car because it’s ‘too tempting to kick me out while moving’ in his words,” this both shock and amuses her, so i go on, “i was sober when i picked the rose for you, i wasn’t when i have it to you, but the rose was always for you, larissa.”

she looks me in the eye, probably in search of a lie, but she won’t find one and she didn’t. her hands tighten their grip on my own, “i really like you too, incredibly so. and not just because i’m high. i’ve liked you ever since freshman year in that intro writing seminar, you lived right down the hall and i never got the courage to just knock on the door.”

i have no words to offer her, only an awestruck stare. my heart was frantically beating in my chest, my hands frozen in hers. in a sudden rush, i throw myself at her, and wrap my arms around her shoulders, back on her lap after hours away. her strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in further, her head burying in my neck. god, she was just so warm and she was so close, this was what heaven felt like, i’m sure.

her head picks up, now only an inch from my face, “can i kiss you?” her voice is so small, but the grip on my waist is confident. my arms slide from her shoulders, hand coming up to cup her jaw on both sides

“please,” and she does. her lips are so soft, gently dancing with my own. i pull her face in more, needing her closer, closer, closer. my hands slide into her hair, gently threading through soft tresses. her hands grasping my back, gripping my clothes. sliding down, her hands are on my ass, pulling my body in as much as she can. and i let her, and i’ll keep letting her. her tongue asks for entry, and i allow her in immediately, moaning into her mouth at the contact. the high from the marijuana mixing with the high of her touch was creating an addicting feeling, one i didn’t want to live without ever again.

she pulls away slightly, and i whine as i pull her in again. she gives in, laughter lightly vibrating in her chest. i pull away this time, breathing becoming necessary. i rest my forehead against hers, not daring to open my eyes so i can’t ruin this perfect moment. lips press against my cheek, gently moving up to my temple, before she’s back resting on the crook of my neck.

“stay,” she says into my neck, arms wrapping around me tightly. i definitely didn’t want to walk back to amir’s alone, and i most definitely didn’t want to leave her. i just hug her tighter, pressing kisses to her hair.

we stayed like this for a little while, wrapped in each other’s arms and mumbling to each other. i could feel her relaxing against me, likely ready to fall asleep, and i wasn’t far behind her. i pull away from our hug, holding her face in my hands. big blue eyes, soft from sleepiness were staring back at me, a barely-there smile on her lips.

“bed time?” i whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“you have to stay with me,” her voice is like honey, eyes never leaving mine.

“i wouldn’t dream of leaving,” pressing a kiss to her lips, i move off her lap and stand in front of her with my hand out for her. she grabs my hand so gently, as if she’s afraid she’ll hurt me, and lacing our fingers together. she leads the way down to her room.

with the lamp turned on, i could see her room is impeccably clean, only mess is her unmade bed. she lets go of my hand to walk over to her dresser, and i walk around looking at the photos and decorations. a photo of her and a girl with long black hair stand out, arms wrapped around each other, wearing matching uniforms. ‘cute,’ i think to myself. a little rainbow flag rests amongst pencils and pens on a desk in the corner, a matching little lesbian flag with the makeup brushes in the cart next to the desk. these make me smile, knowing she’s proud of herself had my heart melting.

she taps my shoulder, presenting me with sweatpants and a t-shirt of hers when i turn around. we both move to stand on different sides of her bed, she turns away and i copy her. we get changed quickly, or at least i did, wanting to be able to have my eyes on her again. she throws an ‘okay?’ over her shoulder, which i only respond to my picking up my clothes and folding them neatly, moving to put them on top of her dresser. she busies her self with pulling back the comforters and sheets, fixing her many pillows.

settling into bed proves a little awkward at first, both of us laying side by side, not speaking, lamp still on. she moves first, turning the lamp off before settling back in, now on her side, facing me. opening my arms, i motion for her to move closer. she scoots into my side, head resting on my chest as my arm wraps around her at her shoulders, our legs wrap around each other.

“larissa?” i whisper out, she nods against my chest, “i really like you,” i say quietly, my free hand grabbing hers and playing with her fingers. i’m fully aware she can feel my heart beating quicker.

she squeezes my hand, “i really like you too.” she places a kiss to my clothed chest before resting her chin there. “can we get breakfast tomorrow?”

i laugh at her sudden change in conversation, “of course we can, we can go get my car and we’ll go wherever you want, and you can get whatever you like.”

“french toast from the diner on dawson street?” she bites her lip with a smile, and my own smile grows huge on my face. she’s so impossibly adorable, and i get to witness it.

“it’s a date,” i say, relishing in the excited look on her face. she stretches up and presses a long kiss to my lips, then a short one right after, then gets settled back on my chest.

once i hear her breathing even out, her grip on my shirt loosen, i finally allow myself to close my eyes. i thank my lucky stars for this moment. to be holding larissa, falling asleep in her bed, wearing her clothes. heaven has got nothing on this, nothing on her.

hope y’all like this one, i actually really loved writing this and how it turned out. all feedback is appreciated <3

[manwrre]

ever since i saw billy’s little montage where he was getting ready, i’ve been DREAMING of a modern!witchbilly having this extensive pre-date, grwm ritual. one that he learnt from his mom, of course, who was a devout wiccan.

i’m talking about a routine that takes freaking HOURS and every part of it is infused with a bit of love magic— something that makes him smell and look divine-levels of irresistible but only to the one. which makes things really confusing at first, when oddly enough, it seems to only work on steve ie. his best friend

also known as the guy that he’s been crushing on since he was a kid. since he was a teeny tiny tot and they went to the same pre-k. and he knows, okay? He Knows. spare him the trope conversation. heather doesn’t fail to remind him that he’s a cliche!

so when steve finally asks him out, it’s no surprise that billy just really goes in. i know for a fact, he’d have a spotify playlist named ‘for s’ or some bullshit and the whole time, it’s just songs that remind him of steve. sensual, slow beats beneath the voices of frank ocean or brent faiyaz, alina baraz and dvsn.

and like, the date would be at 6pm or something but billy would start washing his hair from noon so he gets his curls all perfectly coiled. he’d use his signature scent— this rich lavender that always has steve pressing his nose into his nape. and billy would massage deosil circles into his skull to create peace of mind and set clear intentions. he’d then rub widdershins into the same spots to dispel doubt.

his next step would involve having his favorite candles lit up in the bathroom and drawing himself a bath. he’d soak in a tub of water and milk, rose petals and honey; nectar of the gods. and he’d scrub his skin clean and soft with a gentle rag, having shaved the day before and use jojoba oil to moisturize once he’s done. he’ll even dab a bit of vanilla at his pulse points to maintain before he moves unto his usual skincare.

he’d wear his favorite red shirt to incite feelings of passion and desire (and because steve can barely take his eyes off his chest). he’d have three buttons all done up, slide three, silver rings unto his fingers and layer on his three favorite chains; the metal of them cold against his chest.

his mom had always told him that there was deep magic in makeup, too. she’d sit him down at her vanity and run her hand through his hair almost idly, while getting dolled up.

and she was right, of course. there was something primordial about painting one’s face and becoming another facet of yourself. and it was obvious that women had always been inherently magical beings; mothers, like little goddesses, in their own way. his mother, salome? the most golden of them all.

so he’d think of her as he applied mascara to his lashes and eyeliner to his waterline. he’d hear her laughter while he smudged a hint of red lipstick across his cheeks and lips. he’d even blow a kiss at his own reflection or wink, the very same way that she would and knows for a fact, that the magic has been set; imbued so deeply by a love that has won battles and brought men to their knees

a mother’s.

ALSO, it’s safe to say that the first time that steve witnesses the entire process of billy getting ready, he falls in love with him all over again.

[evolutionsvoid]

While the divine fluids hold great power and sway in this world, they are not the only tools available. There are a lot of folk out there who do not have access to an abundant source of these humors, and what little they have is best served for food, warmth and medicine. What good is such powerful magic if your family freezes in the cold night, or your fellow townsfolk grow ill from blight? Wasting this precious fluid on anything else seems foolish, especially when there are easier tools to use in a fight. The world is bountiful in more than just humor, which can be seen in the great mines that burrow deep into buried corpses, or in the billowing strands of a hair-filled field. The millennia of godfalls and countless other carcasses is what made the land we stand upon now, and in their death comes our blessings. Dissectors and harvesters work through the flesh filled earth or reap from the overflowing fields, gathering precious resources for the people to use. These materials build homes, carry bread and cloak bodies, and when things grow dire, they can arm and protect. And as war rages across the land and madness plagues the very world, weapons are seemingly needed now more than ever.  

Bone: The most common material used to craft weapons, bone is enjoyed for its sturdy nature and heft. Bileforgers are able to melt down bone and shape it into whatever form they need, or can reinforce it with stronger ivory chunks. It is a material good for slashing, stabbing and smashing, shaped into a wide variety of weapons. Folks say that bone is your standard fare, good for when any weapon will do. It is important to know what entity these bones came from, as that will determine their strength and durability, and nothing frustrates a bileforger more than getting a satchel full of loose tibia and a "I don't know." 

Chitin: A weapon material praised for its razor edge and lightweight, perfect for those who seek speed in their strikes or don't wish to haul a heavy bone club across the landscape. Chitin is favored for slashing weapons, as little work needs to be done at the forge to get that perfect cutting edge. The material is also enjoyed for its natural color, as most others require paints, dyes or humor infusions to gain a pleasing palette. Chitin is gorgeous from the moment it is harvested, and in the hands of a professional bileforger, they can be turned into deadly works of art. 

Keratin: When warriors and workers need flexibility, then keratin is the material they choose. These harvested hairs are not just physically flexible, but also can be utilized in a variety of ways. Ropes of hair are already common, and any fool can shape a thickened strand into a nasty point. Keratin is great for bows and weapons that need to have some bend and give. They also can be hardened into spears and other piercing weapons, while plated keratin can form hammers, clubs and tough armor. Horns also fall into the realm of keratin, and it doesn't take a crazy imagination to see the potential those have. Keratin can come in a variety of colors, just the same range that can grow from one's scalp. These can be found growing naturally across the landscape, while some farm special strains to get the right consistency and color. It is also an easy material to grow at home, requiring no mining or hunting to obtain, all one needs is a pouch of hair bulbs, nutritious soil and patience.

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

"FOI Common Weapons"

A shorter entry, but I think a good one for a decent look into this world. A thing to keep in mind is that everything is pretty much organic. Metal is not a material used here (and if one of my drawings looks like it has metal in it...uh, no it isn't...I mean, dragon scales! It's dragon scales or ichored bone! GEYAH!), so everything is forged and carved from things like bone, hair, chitin, scales and hide. Yessiree! This world is certified 100% organic (except for glass, stone and a little oh you get the point).

And if anyone is like "but bone isn't actually good for weapons and such" just remember: this is fantasy bone! Mined straight from the earth by miner bugs carving through the buried corpses of fallen gods. Lets have some fun here!

[cajunwitch101]

Rose petal oxymel

Oxymel is a sweet blend that combines raw apple cider vinegar and honey with herbs, berries and/or fruits to make a refreshing infusion that is taken stright, added to water, or made into drinks.

Rose Oxymel makes a lovely cooling and refreshing medicine that can help calm and cool the nerves on hot days or when your energy and temperament is feeling hot.

Typically the ratio of an oxymel is 1 part honey to 1 part raw apple cider vinegar. I like things a little less sweet so I tend to do 1/2 part honey to 1 part vinegar. You can play around with what works best for you.

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 cup dried Rose Petals

1/4 - 1/2 cup Honey

1/2 - 3/4 cup Raw Apple Cider Vinegar

 

DIRECTIONS:

If you have a grinder, run the rose petals through a grinder; if not you can crush them them up using your hands. Place the ground or crushed petals in an 8oz jar.

Next pour in the amount of honey desired.

Then fill the remainder of the jar with raw apple cider vinegar. If using a metal lid, place a piece of parchment paper between the jar and the lid so it won't corrode.

Let this sit for 2 - 4 weeks on a shelf or counter out of direct sunlight.

Throughout those weeks, shake it, open it, and taste it throughout its process. Also top it off with more apple cider vinegar if the level of liquid has dropped.

After 2 - 4 weeks, strain.

You can sip it on its own, add to still or sparkling water, use in syrups, with food, and make it into drinks.

[brightgnosis]

Tools and Materials of the Craft

The best materials for making tools are those materials that were originally “living” at one point, as opposed to artificial substances. Thus, something like wood is better than metal, and metal is better than plastic. If the material is Virgin (having never been used before for anything else), then all the better.

Things augmented are better than things used as-is. And those items made by hand (any hand) are even better. The very best, however, are those tools you make yourself by your own hand- and all the better if crafted by your own hand entirely from start to finish; the more energy you can channel into the tool, the better. And so logically, the greater percentage of the tool that you make, the better. 

Any tool is better than none at all, however. And your ritual tools need not be expensive or fancy, either. Though they should be special in some way and have significance to their owner- and they should be pleasing to them on an aesthetic and spiritual level; that the tools of the craft have a certain beauty of both form and function is certainly helpful to a practitioner in its own right.

Tools should also be consistent with the path or tradition being participated in, in the first place. Not all Tools are necessary for one to possess, even within a singular tradition. But care should still be taken when deciding which tools to (and not to) take up as a practitioner- especially along paths which utilize a variety of tools. 

All of that being said: It’s very easy for beginning practitioners to be distracted by the tools early on in the process, and ultimately lose their focus on what’s really important- which is their own spiritual and psychic development; real magic ultimately begins entirely within you, the practitioner, and continues from there. A set of tools, therefore, can never be a replacement for actually doing the mental, spiritual, energetic, and other work of Wicca. Likewise, performing spells and rituals through tools alone, and nothing more, will ultimately be ineffective.

But then why do Wiccans use tools at all? Because a Wiccan’s magical tools are like extensions of the Witch themself, infused with their owner’s energy and attuned to their metaphysical will. Thus they act as assistants to ritual, ultimately enhancing both the ritual itself, and the practitioner’s magic, by helping the Witch focus their energy in a much more fine-tuned way. In addition, since the tools are only used in ritual- and since each one has deep symbolic meaning- they help to attune one to the ritual mindset in the first place.

Yet effective ritual isn’t dependent upon the number of tools one uses. Yes, tools and memorized chants are outward expressions of inward changes (such as the shift to ritual consciousness) which add richness to the deep well of power that magical people draw from. They can assist us in creating these inner transformations as a result. But they aren’t in any way prerequisites or requirements for them.

To put it otherwise: Tools are the icing on the cake. They aren’t necessary- especially once a practitioner has mastered the basics. But they are welcomed, and they can be of invaluable help.

However, there is always the slightest caveat to the discussion: You can eat a plate of spaghetti in many ways without using a fork, true. But using utensils- especially a specialized tool such as a fork- certainly makes it quite a different experience overall (and often a much easier one). Yet, with or without the tools, the end result is still the same regardless. The same is true in Witchcraft.

Main Source: ‘Wicca for Beginners: Fundamentals of Philosophy and Practice’ Thea Sabin; 'The Gardnerian Book of Shadows' by Gerald Gardner; ‘Wicca for One: The Path of Solitary Witchcraft’ by Raymond Buckland; ‘A Wiccan Bible: Exploring the Mysteries of the Craft from Birth to Summerland’ by AJ Drew; ’Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner’ + ’Living Wicca: A Further Guide For The Solitary Practitioner’ by Scott Cunningham; 'A String and a Prayer: How to Make and Use Prayer Beads' by Eleanor Wiley and Maggie Oman Shannon; 'Grimoire of the Thorn-Blooded Witch: Mastering the Five Arts of Old World Witchery' Raven Grimassi; various writings by Daniel Schulke; 'A Mystic Guide to Cleansing and Clearing' by David Salisbury; others.

This is my own compiled research on the topic from a multitude of sources, from my own Book of Shadows. I am happy to share my sources, but if you found this helpful or interesting, please consider Tipping or Leaving a Ko-Fi (being Disabled, even $1 helps); you can see my other "Original Content" here.

This account is run by a Dual Faith «(Converting) Masorti Jew + Traditional NeoWiccan» & «Ancestral Folk Magic Practitioner» with 20+ years of experience as a practicing Pagan and Witch. If that bothers you, don't interact.

[feral-lore-creature]

oh boy oh boy oh boy am i here to tell you how much that was not rhetorical.

i guess the best place to start wpuld be simply with HR Giger and his rise to fame with his biomechanical artwork. Biomech, as it sounds, is the combination of organics and mechanics, most often represented with human/animal anatomy where joints are replaces with gears and pistons, but infused with muscles and tendons. Gigers art was particularly inspired by Salvador Dali, HP Lovecraft, and Alfred Kubin

(some examples of their work in order of who was listed)

(The Temptation of St. Anthony ,The Shaggoth,Homage to Rimbaud)

Giger was enlisted to the design set by Ridley after he viewed Giger "Necronimicon IV", for which the Xenomorph was designed after.

"Giger's design for the Alien evoked many contradictory sexual images. As critic Ximena Gallardo notes, the creature's combination of sexually evocative physical and behavioral characteristics creates 'a nightmare vision of sex and death. It subdues and opens the male body to make it pregnant, and then explodes it in birth. In its adult form, the alien strikes its victims with a rigid phallic tongue that breaks through skin and bone. More than a phallus, however, the retractable tongue has its own set of snapping, metallic teeth that connects it to the castrating vagina dentata.'"

The Alien is meant to incite sexual horror in men specifically, between ita phallic shaped head/inner tongue and vaginal secondatry mouth, whule still maintining no sexual dimorphism (except feom the queen) so you cant tell if its a male or female.

"however, he could not conceive of an interesting way for it to get onto the ship. Inspired after waking from a dream, Shusett said, "I have an idea: the monster screws one of them", planting its egg in his body, and then bursting out of his chest. Both realized the idea had never been done before, and it subsequently became the core of the film. "This is a movie about alien interspecies rape", O'Bannon said in the documentary Alien Evolution. "That's scary because it hits all of our buttons." O'Bannon felt that the symbolism of "homosexual oral rape" was an effective means of discomforting male viewers."

after this point all of my thoughts devolve into a garble of pointing and hand flapping so enjoy what i was able to provide and i hope we become moots bc i wanna talk abt alien w ppl so so bad

BY THE VOID, THANK YOU! This is so well done. I fucking LOVE IT. I'd LOVE being moots! 😭 I need somebody to info dump on, too!

Putting my own thoughts below the cut so nothing gets too long.

I always thought the idea of making (usually cis) men uncomfortable via graphic, fictional representations of rape was SUCH a good change of pace. It's refreshing, not just in terms of "flipping the script", but the way it's presented is often beautiful, and grotesque.

I remember watched the "horror" (read: fetish) movie "Don't Breathe" with my FATHER not knowing the plot twist (because that's the point of watching the damn movie...) It made me so fucking uncomfortable. It's just a fetish film, honestly. It handles extreme, very real events with no grace or creative liberty. It's horrible.

ANYWAY! Back to Aliens, I think that's also why I fucking LOVE the hive system the Xenomorphs work in. I know some people don't enjoy these terrifying, eldritch organisms being "reduced" to something so earthly as a hive system, but let's be honest, it's effective way to reproduce/gain numbers, and it's still just as scary.

That's the reason I adore the QUEEN herself. Her design is powerful, and elaborate. She sure as hell plays and looks the roll of queen. She's the epicenter of the species who commands all those under her as she "births" more of the monstrosities to destroy worlds in her children's wake. She's the only feminine being binding the hive together into an organized destructive force, and she doesn't even need a male to fertilize the eggs. (<- also a detail I really like.) She's quite literally an evil girl boss LMAO I love her.

These are the main reasons (and I'm sure there's more,) as to why I love HR Giger's original art work, and how it was shown in the first two movies, then later beautifully presented again in Prometheus 2012. (<- somebody please be obsessed with the Engineers with me, I love them, and need to bang one asap LMAO)

It's an amazing example of art that's meant to "comfort the disturbed, and disturb the comfortable."

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

12 by 12: The Singles 1990-1991 1991 Hi-NRG / House / Synthpop

Here's a pretty decent sampler of rare tunes from San Francisco's Megatone Records, a label that was founded by dance music legend Patrick Cowley in 1981, the year before he would tragically succumb to AIDS. When Megatone opened, it was used as an outlet for both Cowley and other dance legend Sylvester's own material, but after Cowley's passing, the label continued on and eventually diversified its roster. And this here is a collection of songs that they put out between '90 and '91.

Now, while the bulk of these tracks are hi-NRG—a post-disco type of music with stabby electronic basslines that mixed extremely well with both cocaine and sweat and was also a fixture of both gay dancefloors and fitness tapes throughout much of the 80s—I think the best track on here is, hands-down, the opener, which is a slowish and intense Balearic trip hop-breakbeat-type remix of David Diebold & Kim Cataluna's cover of Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit," done by someone named Steve Bourasa, who did a lot of work for Cali-based DJ labels at the time. Escapist strings, psychedelic vocals, some long and distorted heavy guitar chords, and an occasional infusion of Spanish guitar synth; basically the 80s-early 90s Ibiza vibe to a T. Seriously, what a tune here!

And for some of that great hi-NRG, there's a few bops on this CD, but for me, the best offering is "Let the Rhythm Move You," by Touch-N-Go, a duo who ended up only putting out two singles in 1990, before disappearing. This particular song of theirs, from its acid bassline, to its ethereal string melody, and to its clinking new wave synth stabs, sorta sounds like if New Order was fronted by a woman. Intricate, well-layered, dancy bliss.

Not all of this album seems to have stood the test of time, though. A bunch of these tracks feel a bit disposable, and there seems to be a general fondness across the board for that Art of Noise-patented technique of peppering the tunes with these sharp and choppy samples of things like hard rock and metal guitar. A lot of acts ended up doing that whole gimmick to death in the 80s and early 90s, and while it still works with some songs like INXS' "Need You Tonight," it's not a technique that seems to have really aged all that well, generally.

Still though, if you want a few sweet morsels of those electronically throbbing early 90s dance tunes that sounded like they had no intention of ever leaving the 80s, as well as a killer remix of a Jefferson Airplane cover, look no further than this release 😊.

Highlights:

Diebold & Cataluna - "White Rabbit" David Diebold & Ernest Kohl - "Dance Right Back Into Heaven (Remix)" Jo-Carol & Leo - "Jump Up for Love" Touch-N-Go - "Let the Rhythm Move You"

[hookitall]

Ok so when I see a company doing something I immediately "we have that at home" it. I just do. I'm not spending 'a corporation I already don't rate highly made the price tag' money to try something I can do in my own kitchen.

This entire post was catalysed by James Hoffmann going to Milan and trying Starbuck's Oleato drinks (olive oil infused). Link: https://youtu.be/XewgO7j6y-E

Which, side note, this feels like the most Italian thing to come out of Italy since Aeneas ate a table and, on that basis, I'm here for it 🇮🇹

I made something like it in my kitchen.

Equipment:

Moka pot (3 cup -130ml/4.4oz- or preference)

Aerolatte wand (I'm sure you could use a whisk if you wanted)

Coffee grinder (mines a cheap-ish vevok chef)

A kettle and stovetop (for the coffee)

Ingredients;

Asda own brand barista style oat milk or your other favourite milk alternative*

Taylors or Harrogate Rich Italian coffee beans

Filippo Berro extra virgin olive oil

Boiled tap water (what do you want from me?)

My three cup moka pot:

I have the Italian tricolour bialetti because I'm just extra like that when it comes to Italian things, and also it was cheaper than the standard one when I bought it. A Moka pot is a Moka pot. Buy the one you like and works for you if you're shopping for one.

If you don't know how to use a Moka pot I follow the method of James Hoffmann's video on it on YouTube. I don't bother with adding a paper filter as I prefer the mouthfeel of a metal filter. Link: https://youtu.be/BfDLoIvb0w4

Coffee:

Taylor's of Harrogate Rich Italian roast beans with the yellow bag and the 4 on the front. Fiver a bag at the supermarket. Really nothing fancy. Any coffee you like, Moka pots prefer darker roasts in general though.

This is advertised as a medium roast (hence the 4/6 number on the front) but it's a lot darker than other medium roast.

Tip: Do buy beans and grind yourself if you can, it's cheaper long term as beans are cheaper than pre-ground and you get a far superior brew that's worth the effort.

Reasoning: I wasn't using anything fancy for a test plus this stuff really shines as a thick heavy medium dark roast without being ashy brewed in a Moka pot as standard.

Oat milk Vs regular, and is barista edition worth it:

In the James Hoffman video where he tries these things he does mention that most of the drinks he tries come as standard with oat milk. Apparently the people at Starbucks think that's the way to go. It makes sense. Adding oil to cows milk is going to taste really fatty and gross.

Do get the barista style oat milk if you can, if you just buy standard oat milk it won't foam as easily and the mouth feel is different unless you're whip it within an inch of its life.

I see no reason you can't use another milk alternative. I'd avoid soya as that would make it sour but almond might add some sweetness to cut the oil. Haven't tried it. Let me know if you do, please.

Coffee grind:

Ground at number 1 setting on my vevok chef hand grinder. If you paid less than £100 for your hand grinder just go as fine as you can or whatever works best for you usually in a Moka pot. Shouldn't be espresso fine, but finer than v20 or AeroPress grind.

Base recipe:

My 'mokuchino' recipe is usually 2:1 barista style oat milk to hot/boiled water whipped up with an Aerolatte wand. Before it's whipped the water and milk usually takes up about 1/3 of my cup, after its foamy about 2/3 of it. Tinker with what you like.

I just added like a quarter of a teaspoon of bog standard Filippo Berro Extra Virgin Olive Oil to that water:milk mix and whipped it into foam.

I pour the Moka coffee on top when it's brewed (all of it, I use a 3 pot because I want more coffee in my coffee- my standard coffee shop order is a 3 shot oat milk cappuccino and that's what I'm recreating here). This is the right recipe for me for a pint mug.

Oil amounts:

The amount of oil in those drink James Hoffman was trying looked like way too much. Olive oil leaves saltiness on the palate which I think is what's counteracting a lot of the bitterness and the sharper sour notes cheap coffee gives you sometimes too. Hence why he was having drinks with a shot of olive oil and I added a quarter of a teaspoon. Your bowels and throat will thank you for cutting the dose; link: https://www.shefinds.com/collections/starbucks-customers-reporting-stomach-issues-olive-oil-infused-coffees/

My drink experience:

So on first drink you don't notice it. It's a smoother but no real taste. Like the difference in mouthfeel between cadburys and galaxy milk chocolate. That makes it a hit in my book.

As it cools to drinkable you really taste the fresh mown grassy-ness of the olive oil. It's weirdly nice. It leaves just a bit of itself on the top of your palette and sits there after the coffee is down your throat.

It also draws out hitherto undiscovered sweetness in a dark roast coffee, and even a little acidity. Not a lot. Just enough to cut through the oily texture so you don't feel greasy. Like it's more of a light to medium roast than dark medium roast. But it keeps the rich full bodied mouth feel and chocolatey taste of a medium-dark roast. Much more milk choc than dark though. There's also a touch of citrus that is definitely from the oil, like the back of the throat feel of the smell of fresh mown grass.

As it cools further you get more oiliness and it really rounds out the bitter sharpness of the coffee that you get from cheap darker roasts as they cool down. Not bad oiliness. It's a 'i just ate an olive before this sip of coffee' oiliness. And even more acidity that you can taste now you don't have the usual mouthful of ash. It leaves the slight sourness in your mouth that tickles as it dissipates. It's a green sourness though, and it's oddly pleasant. I can feel the oil on my lips though. Just a bit. And it is definitely not unpleasant.

If you let it go cold (room temp) you get a lot of acidity. I mean a lot. More like tea than coffee and also a salty aftertaste which weirdly doesn't make me want another drink though. It is not bitter at all. It's full bodied from the texture of the oil, acidic, bright and sweet.

An hour later: yeah, don't drink it cold. It tastes like I'm starting with a sore throat or I've shouted too loud. An astringent taste in the back of my throat. I'm not thirsty even though the saltiness lasted like 20 mins.

Conclusion:

I think this is how you get all the benefits of dark coffee with the brigness of light coffee. Even stone cold it's not unpleasant. I would drink it down at just lukewarm though so you don't get the salty aftertaste and harsh feeling in your throat. It's a very springlike flavour, fresh grass, birds singing, sun bright in the sky kind of coffee.

Honestly, I wouldn't do it to every cup but with your morning brew. Add it. It'll set you up for a pleasant drink as you look out the window and enjoy the early morning signs that spring is in the air, very cheaply, and that tiny bit of olive oil might just help your digestion a bit especially if you're a little sluggish in the morning (not medical advice, YMMV etc).

Is this whole thing utterly ridiculous and so Italian it bleeds red white and green to the bouncy strains of Inno di Mameli? Absolutely🤌

But I see the logic.

Let me see if I can walk you through how I think the development of the idea went.

We all know that generally Starbucks coffee hasn't been so much roasted as cremated and tastes accordingly. That's not a value judgement. It's just a statement of fact. I like medium/dark roast coffees. The Taylors Rich Italian beans i used here are my daily coffee at home. If I had a Starbucks, Caffe Nero, and a Costa in front of me I'd hit Caffe Nero for my fix. I like dark roasts.

That's what I'm getting at here. But Starbucks tastes like ash and the shattered hopes of a plant that tried really really hard and still flunked out of taste school (to me). And if it tastes like that to me, whose palette for coffee is about as refined as a sledgehammer, there is no way Weird Coffee People™️ would be caught dead drinking it with ANY other option on the table (including carrying their own beans and an AeroPress with them).

So we have a company that is famous for the kind of coffee you can use as paint stripper, who temper that with enough sugar to give a horse diabetes (please don't test this, it's a metaphor not an idea), trying to do something to draw in more footfall.

Like, let's be real here. A 16oz Starbucks cappuccino is like 93% sugar and milk by volume. It's a coffee milkshake designed to be so sweet you can't taste the coffee.

We also know that fat in milk and salt both temper sourness and bitterness of over or under extracted coffee. Which means the skill level required to pull an espresso shot that you're going to add a slightly salty fatty thing to before you drown it in sugar and more fat goes to zero. Perfect for a chain store.

So...

Bitter cheap coffee burned to a crisp before it ever reaches the cup, plus sugar, plus more sugar, probably over and/or under extracted, plus oat milk, plus olive oil equals- a very nice drink that anyone who drinks Starbucks is going to think is a revelation.

The olive oil is doing 90% of the heavy lifting of the coffee flavour in a cup you add it to.

How to make burned robusta taste like a light-medium specialty coffee? Add olive oil and oat milk.

Now I've tried it, I have to say. Italy has had coffee for a good few centuries and olive oil for millenia at this point.

At this point the cultural identity of Italy, especially from the outside, is that if you poured out Scipio's helmet it would be the source for three mythical rivers of coffee, olive oil and tomato sauce.

This combination was inevitable. It feels like something that should have been drunk by Da Vinci, Puccini and Luis XVI because someone imported an Italian thing to Versailles and just said it was French; coughoperacough.

I have an image of an Italian telling me (with Italian hands) that of course it works, it's how nonna used to make.

Which begs the question: what took so bloody long? 🤌

[casagear-home]

The Unique Artistic Appeal of High-Quality Decorative Wall Clocks

In the realm of home decor, few pieces can claim to be as versatile and impactful as a high-quality decorative wall clock. More than just a functional timepiece, these clocks are works of art in their own right, crafted with meticulous attention to detail and a keen eye for design.

At Casagear, we take pride in offering a collection of decorative wall clocks that showcase the very best in artistry and craftsmanship. Each clock is carefully designed and constructed to stand the test of time, both in terms of durability and aesthetic appeal.

The artistry of a well-made decorative wall clock is evident in every aspect of its design. From the choice of materials to the intricate details of the clock face, each element is thoughtfully considered and expertly executed. Our collection features pieces crafted from a range of premium materials, including solid wood, brushed metal, and even ceramic, each chosen for its unique properties and visual appeal.

With this all said, the true artistry lies in the details. The clock faces in our collection are miniature masterpieces, featuring everything from classic Roman numerals to whimsical illustrations and abstract designs. Some of them even incorporate unexpected elements, such as exposed gears or floating mechanisms, adding an extra layer of visual interest and complexity.

The craftsmanship behind these pieces is equally impressive. Each one is assembled by skilled artisans who take great care to ensure that every component is perfectly aligned and functioning smoothly. From the precise placement of each hand to the smooth, silent movement of the mechanics, every detail is attended to with the utmost precision.

The result is a decorative wall embellishment that is not only beautiful but also built to last. We understand that when you invest in a piece for your home, you want it to endure, to become a treasured part of your decor that you can enjoy for years to come. That's why we insist on the highest standards of quality and durability for every area of our collection.

But perhaps the most remarkable aspects of our wall clocks are their ability to infuse a space with character and personality. Like any great work of art, these clocks have the power to evoke emotion, tell a story, and reflect the unique tastes and sensibilities of their owners.

Whether you choose your newest timepiece with a sleek, modern design or one with an ornate, vintage-inspired aesthetic, it becomes more than just a functional object. It becomes a statement piece, a conversation starter, and a cherished part of your home decor.

At Casagear, we believe that every home deserves the unique artistry and craftsmanship of a decorative wall clock from our latest collection. That's why we've curated a collection that showcases the very best in design and construction, offering a wide range of styles to suit every taste and every space. Discover the artistry for yourself, and elevate your home decor with a timepiece that is truly a work of art.

Happy shopping, from our Casagear family to yours!

[olivercolt]

The Unique Artistic Appeal of High-Quality Decorative Wall Clocks

In the realm of home decor, few pieces can claim to be as versatile and impactful as a high-quality decorative wall clock. More than just a functional timepiece, these clocks are works of art in their own right, crafted with meticulous attention to detail and a keen eye for design.

At Casagear, we take pride in offering a collection of decorative wall clocks that showcase the very best in artistry and craftsmanship. Each clock is carefully designed and constructed to stand the test of time, both in terms of durability and aesthetic appeal.

The artistry of a well-made decorative wall clock is evident in every aspect of its design. From the choice of materials to the intricate details of the clock face, each element is thoughtfully considered and expertly executed. Our collection features pieces crafted from a range of premium materials, including solid wood, brushed metal, and even ceramic, each chosen for its unique properties and visual appeal.

With this all said, the true artistry lies in the details. The clock faces in our collection are miniature masterpieces, featuring everything from classic Roman numerals to whimsical illustrations and abstract designs. Some of them even incorporate unexpected elements, such as exposed gears or floating mechanisms, adding an extra layer of visual interest and complexity.

The craftsmanship behind these pieces is equally impressive. Each one is assembled by skilled artisans who take great care to ensure that every component is perfectly aligned and functioning smoothly. From the precise placement of each hand to the smooth, silent movement of the mechanics, every detail is attended to with the utmost precision.

The result is a decorative wall embellishment that is not only beautiful but also built to last. We understand that when you invest in a piece for your home, you want it to endure, to become a treasured part of your decor that you can enjoy for years to come. That's why we insist on the highest standards of quality and durability for every area of our collection.

But perhaps the most remarkable aspects of our wall clocks are their ability to infuse a space with character and personality. Like any great work of art, these clocks have the power to evoke emotion, tell a story, and reflect the unique tastes and sensibilities of their owners.

Whether you choose your newest timepiece with a sleek, modern design or one with an ornate, vintage-inspired aesthetic, it becomes more than just a functional object. It becomes a statement piece, a conversation starter, and a cherished part of your home decor.

At Casagear, we believe that every home deserves the unique artistry and craftsmanship of a decorative wall clock from our latest collection. That's why we've curated a collection that showcases the very best in design and construction, offering a wide range of styles to suit every taste and every space. Discover the artistry for yourself, and elevate your home decor with a timepiece that is truly a work of art.

Happy shopping, from our Casagear family to yours!

[homedecor-shop-online]

6 Must-Have Decorative Objects to Elevate Your Home Decor

Picture yourself stepping into your newly acquired house, a pristine canvas awaiting your personal touch. Just like flipping through the glossy pages of a magazine or scrolling through social media feeds adorned with amazingly decorated homes, you envision residing in such captivating spaces. But fear not, with a dash of creativity and a sprinkle of imagination, you too can transform your house into a haven of beauty. In this blog, we will go through six decorative objects for home from Satguru’s that can improve the aesthetic appeal of your house.

6 Must-Have Decorative Objects from Satguru’s

1.    Wall Art

Empty walls can make the entire house look dull and blank. The addition of wall art or paintings will definitely add personality to your space. At Satguru's, you will find a beautiful collection of both paintings and wall art that can act as a focal point for your home decor. You can check out ‘Nandi by Arun’ for painting and ‘Metal white black abs’ if you are interested in wall art.

2.    Wall Clocks

Wall clocks can be another fine addition to your wall. They not only improve the aesthetic appeal of the house but also ensure you are aware of your schedule. Clocks from Satguru’s come in a wide range of designs, making it easy for you to choose the one that matches with other decor items. The Open Movement Clock by Satguru’s is one of their best sellers because of its unique design and ability to work well in both traditional and contemporary settings.

3.    Vases

Vases are unsung heroes. While, they take up less space, their impact does not go unnoticed. You can use them as they are or add colourful, fresh flowers to scent the entire room. Hand-painted earthen vases with Madhubani art by Satguru’s are an affordable option to add to your living room or bedroom. You can pair the vase with this Madhubani painting to create a stunning display of traditional Indian art.

4.    Mirrors

Mirrors are a versatile decor item that reflects light, brightening your space and visually enlarging it. Check out Satguru’s to find the best mirror designs that suit your decor theme. You can check out 'mirror 2021’ for a vintage theme, while ‘Greta mirror decor’ will perfectly suit a contemporary themed decor.

5.    Urlis

Urlis, which combines traditional craftsmanship and modern design, provides a distinctive and colourful accent to interior design. You can use it as decor in your pooja ghar. Add some water and flower petals (or small flowers) to the urli. The fragrance from those flowers will create a pleasant environment for both the God and the devotee.

6.    Show pieces

Showpieces like photo frames or figurines are irreplaceable decorative items for the living room and bedroom. They instantly demand attention. Showpieces give interiors personality and charm by evoking feelings and igniting conversations. They make a house feel more creative and beautiful. ‘Meditating astronaut gold’ and ‘Blue Owl’ from Satguru’s can be amazing additions to your home decor. These pieces can be placed on tables or shelves attached to the walls.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the journey of transforming a house into a home filled with beauty and personality begins with the thoughtful selection of decorative objects. With Satguru’s exquisite collection of decorative objects for home, ranging from wall art to showpieces, every corner of your space can be infused with charm and elegance. By incorporating these six must-have decorative items, you can turn your house into a haven that not only reflects your taste and creativity but also invites warmth, conversation, and admiration from all who enter. You can also check out Satguru’s if you are looking to buy dinner sets, diyas, or god idols for pooja rooms online. Visit their website to learn more about their services.

[iigjaipur]

Crafting Creativity: Achieve Excellence with a Diploma in Jewellery Design

In a world where self-expression is cherished, the art of jewellery design has emerged as a canvas for creativity and individuality. If you’ve ever been captivated by the sparkle of gemstones, the gleam of precious metals, and the intricacies of design, a Diploma in Jewellery Design might just be your ticket to unlocking a world of endless possibilities.

Jewellery design is more than just aesthetics; it’s a blend of imagination, technical skill, and a deep understanding of materials. A Diploma in Jewellery Design isn’t just about receiving a certificate; it’s about embarking on a journey that will sculpt you into a true artist of adornment.

Imagine the thrill of taking a concept from a sketch to a tangible, wearable masterpiece. With a comprehensive diploma, you’ll learn the nuts and bolts of transforming raw materials into exquisite works of art. The curriculum often includes a rich tapestry of subjects, ranging from the historical significance of jewellery across cultures to the intricacies of gemology and metallurgy. This knowledge doesn’t just scratch the surface; it allows you to delve into the heart of each gemstone, metal, and design technique, giving you the power to create pieces that tell stories.

What sets a Diploma in Jewellery Design apart is the emphasis on hands-on experience. It’s a chance to roll up your sleeves, experiment with various materials, and bring your artistic visions to life. These projects aren’t just assignments; they’re bridges that connect your imagination to the tangible world. They mirror the challenges and triumphs of real-world design scenarios, molding you into a designer who’s not just technically proficient but also capable of navigating the complexities of the industry.

Yet, this diploma doesn’t just stop at design. It’s a holistic journey that prepares you for the multifaceted nature of the jewellery business. From understanding market trends to grasping consumer preferences, you’ll gain insights that are crucial for success in the industry. It’s an education that goes beyond gemstones and metals, turning you into a well-rounded professional who can not only create stunning pieces but also present them to the world.

Guiding you on this transformative journey are seasoned mentors and professionals. Their expertise isn’t confined to textbooks; it’s a blend of years of experience, failures, and successes. With their guidance, you’ll navigate design challenges, refine your techniques, and learn how to channel your creativity effectively.

Once you’ve completed the Diploma in Jewellery Design, a world of opportunities awaits. You could channel your inner entrepreneur and establish your own jewellery line, infusing it with your unique design philosophy. Alternatively, you might find yourself working with established design houses, contributing your creative flair to their collections. The versatility of this diploma also opens doors to roles in marketing, curation, and even academia.

Get to know about the other best diploma courses in jewellery design, click here.

In the end, a Diploma in Jewellery Design is more than just a piece of paper. It’s a transformational experience that hones your creativity, enriches your technical skills, and equips you with business acumen. It’s an investment in your passion, a testament to your dedication, and a step towards becoming a luminary in the world of jewellery design. So, if the sparkle of gemstones and the allure of design have captured your heart, consider embarking on this journey and crafting your own path to excellence.

[ramandeepblogs]

Trendy Home Ornaments | A Comprehensive Guide to Transforming Your Living Space

An Overview of Trendy Home Ornaments

The current home decor landscape transcends functionality and significantly treads into expressive territory. Trendy home ornaments stand at the forefront of this evolution, offering more than just aesthetic additions—they embody the personal styles, tastes, and stories of homeowners. With the changing times, these decor elements have risen from mere accessories to pivotal focal points that enhance and characterize spaces. They contribute to crafting environments that are not just visually appealing but also deeply resonant with the individuals living in them. As this guide delves into the world of trendy home ornaments, readers will gain insights into the varieties available, discover how these items can amplify a home's charm, and learn the nuances of integrating them thoughtfully into reimagined abodes.

Changing up Your Space with Stylish Modern Decor Items

Revolutionizing one's living space can be remarkably simple with the infusion of stylish Modern Decor Items. These objects merge form and function to manifest an interior that's a mirror of one's personality. Whether it is a minimalistic sculpture that commands attention in a subdued room or an eclectic piece that breaks the uniformity of a contemporary space, selecting the right type of ornament is key to enhancing your home's ambiance.

Metal ornaments: These pieces can range from wrought iron wall hangings to silver-plated decorative bowls, providing a touch of sleek sophistication.

Material

Description

Metal

Offers a sleek, modern look.

Glass

Adds a delicate, sophisticated touch.

Ceramic

Brings a classic, timeless feel.

Rattan

Lends a natural, earthy vibe.

Working with different materials will help to diversify the textures within your space, ensuring that the overall decor feels layered and dynamic.

How to Choose Ideal Trendy Home Ornaments

Navigating the selection of stylish ornaments can be overwhelming, but focusing on three core aspects—material, scale, and decor harmony—can direct choices towards the ideal picks for any home. It is crucial to visualize the ornament in its intended environment and anticipate the interactions it will have with the existing space and decor objects. The goal is to achieve an aesthetic symbiosis that speaks to clutter-free elegance. This means that in the quest for decoration, the spatial dimensions and color schemes of a room shouldn't be overshadowed but rather complemented by the ornaments chosen. In essence, the right ornament not only aligns with the homeowner's taste but also underlines and enhances the existing decor narrative.

Best Sources to Buy Trendy Home Ornaments in India

In the quest for sprucing up living quarters with trendy home ornaments, India offers a plethora of options to indulge in. From the labyrinthine lanes of local markets brimming with artisanal crafts to the convenience of online shopping platforms, the sources for securing these decor pieces are as diverse as they are rich in choices. Online destinations like Moolwan are revered for bringing together a curated collection of ornaments that cater to various aesthetic preferences, all at the click of a button.

While brick-and-mortar stores grant the tactile pleasure of experiencing the ornaments first-hand, e-commerce websites provide the ease of exploring a vast inventory without the constraints of geography. Buyers are poised to enjoy a seamless acquisition journey that encompasses a treasure trove of unique and stylish ornaments to elevate any home interior.

Incorporating Trendy Ornaments into Different Spaces

Knowing where to place trendy home ornaments can be just as important as the pieces you choose. Here are some suggestions for incorporating them into various areas of your home:

Living Room: A unique centerpiece on a mantel or a sculptural art piece on a shelf can create focal points that draw attention and conversation.

Bedroom: Select ornaments that bring calm and serenity, such as a tastefully chosen vase on a nightstand or a minimalist artwork above the bed.

Kitchen: Function meets style with designer fruit baskets or modern spice containers that make everyday items part of the decor narrative.

Bathroom: Luxury can be curated with a beautifully designed mirror or ornate trays to hold bath essentials, bridging utility with elegance.

Employing these decorative elements in strategic locations can transform the narrative of each room, making it feel more personal and stylish.

Maintaining Your Stylish Home Ornaments

To ensure that your stylish home ornaments retain their allure, regular care and upkeep are imperative. This involves routine cleaning, careful handling, and proper placement to avoid damage or wear. Dust frequently to maintain the sheen and cleanliness of your ornaments, especially for those with intricate designs where dust can accumulate quickly. For ornaments that come into frequent contact with hands, such as door handles or decorative knobs, consider a gentle wipe-down with an appropriate cleaner to keep them looking fresh. Pay attention to the material specifications for each piece, as some might require special products or methods for cleaning. Diligent maintenance will extend the life and preserve the beauty of your trendy home ornaments.

Tips and Tricks for Styling Trendy Home Ornaments

To curate a coherent yet dynamic aesthetic with trendy home ornaments, here's a palette of styling tips to consider:

Layering: Diversify heights and depths by stacking and layering pieces, creating a multidimensional and engaging display.

Color Pallette: Utilize a consistent color palette to ensure that pieces complement rather than clash with each other and the room's decor.

Focal Points: Use ornamental pieces to create visual anchors in the room, garnering interest and guiding the eye through the space.

Incorporate these touches to construct an environment that is not only stylish but also uniquely expressive of individual aesthetics.

The Environmental Impact of Trendy Home Ornaments

In the wake of global environmental awareness, the home decor industry is steadily pivoting towards sustainability. This is reflected in the growing popularity of ornaments that are not only chic but also environmentally considerate. From ornaments composed of recycled materials to those crafted from sustainably sourced components, the spectrum of eco-friendly decor options is expanding. As consumers, opting for such alternatives not only enhances aesthetic appeal but also contributes towards a greener planet, ensuring that the stylistic choices made are responsible and future-facing.

Conclusion

Trendy home ornaments have the transformative ability to revamp living spaces in the subtlest to the most dramatic ways. From choosing stylish modern decor items to maintaining them with care, each aspect plays a pivotal role in the art of home decoration. By integrating ornaments that resonate with personal tastes and environmental consciousness, one can craft a living space that is not only a joy to inhabit but also a testament to thoughtful and stylish living. With the right approach, selecting and styling ornaments can be an accessible and enjoyable endeavor for all looking to enhance their home environment.