#gourd lamps

[shoku-and-awe]

By request of @destinationtoast, my efforts in my new hobby(?) of carved gourd lamp-making! Display area for scale:

Gourds front

The right one is from my first class, the left from the second. (I, uh, didn’t realize until I got home what similar patterns I’d chosen 🙃)

Gourds back:

Still a little rough. Especially on the right.

But now. Fiat lux!

I have a back view too but tumblr will only let me add one video. Apparently next time we are experimenting with glitter! I might try out a painted gourd if so.

[sullivanclarissa]

Kids Room Little Rock Example of a mid-sized classic girl medium tone wood floor kids' room design with blue walls

[amartworks]

This jester's musical talents are so lacking that only the gourds enjoy their music.

[almostarts]

Olinalá Lamps by Ariel Rojo and Obdulia Almazán,

For Museo de Arte Popular, Mexico,

Set of lamps made of hand-painted gourds, using conductive silver ink for the operation of the electrical circuit.

[junespringer]

Open DC Metro Large transitional open concept family room library design example with beige walls, a brick fireplace in place of a fireplace, and a wall-mounted television.

[crazyclau]

New York Living Room

Ideas for remodeling a sizable, traditional, enclosed living room with pink walls

[reat13]

Traditional Bedroom - Bedroom Bedroom - mid-sized traditional guest bedroom idea with blue walls

[cathtatedaily]

Living Room Music Room Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional open concept dark wood floor living room remodel with a music area, blue walls, a standard fireplace, a brick fireplace and no tv

[ura-okitu]

Beach Style Living Room - Enclosed Image of a medium-sized living room in a beach-style home with white walls, a tile fireplace, a standard fireplace, and a television stand.

[felicity-berkleef]

Open - Library Inspiration for a huge transitional open concept medium tone wood floor family room library remodel with beige walls, no fireplace, a brick fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[francysbelle]

Enclosed - Living Room Living room - mid-sized transitional formal and enclosed medium tone wood floor living room idea with gray walls, a standard fireplace, a tile fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[thecupidwitch]

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

I went to Shoppers Drugmart the other day and like, I honestly believe we as a culture are living in an unprecedented golden age for Decorative Gourd Season kitsch

Just in this one display:

We have:

* Mugs that look like pumpkins/squash (I bought a green one)

* Hot apple cider squishmallow

* Candy jar that looks like an owl that looks like a pumpkin

* Raccoon wearing a cozy sweater squishmallow

* Ceramic lawn gnome lamp pierced with leaf shape openings

* Mushroom wearing a striped scarf squishmallow

It's incredible. It's inspiring. Step aside, Michelangelo.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Winter is coming

Hi guys!

This is the first time I try to write with two existing people, I hope it suits you. I don't really know what to think about it to be honest.

Also I apologize if there are weird things, I received a new lava lamp that bubbles for my birthday and it hypnotizes me x)

Do not hesitate if you have suggestions or requests, I will respond as soon as possible ♥

It was a request right here by the way.

TW : Mention of nudity

Enjoy!

P.S I'm sorry for the title

The icy Swedish cold seems to pierce the Barcelona players tonight, during the game between FC Barcelona and Rosengård. Apart from Ingrid Engen and her Norwegian origins, most Spanish players seem to suffer particularly from the cold. Despite the relatively easy win as the match ended with a 5-0 for Barcelona, Lucy can only notice Ona’s defeated and tense face.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the English decides, despite their vain attempts to keep their couple deprived, of joining her, the need to know what’s happening to Ona more important than her desires for discretion. Ona doesn’t turn around when Lucy calls her name, a bottle under her arm and applauding, her face turned towards the audience.

In a few strides, Lucy finally reaches her height, gently placing her hand on the neck of the young woman. This doesn’t prevent Ona from being a little startled before relaxing when she realizes that it’s only Lucy who is behind her.

"Is everything okay?" Lucy asks, immediately seeking to plunge her eyes into Ona’s.

"I'm fine" Ona simply replies, without even trying to smile.

This seems to quickly alert the English, perhaps a little too used to seeing Ona smiling and radiant at her side. Ona puts her hands on her face while Lucy speaks again.

"It doesn’t look like it"

Lucy’s tone is gentle and delicate, certifying that there is only concern behind it and that it isn’t for the push to confession in any way. The attention warms the heart of the Catalan, unlike her sore fingers.

"I’m fine, Luce. I’m just cold" begins Ona before turning in the direction of the English. "I just couldn’t wait for the game to end. The last ball I took from my head gave me the impression that I was given a huge slap on the face"

To explain better, Ona carries a gloved hand on the side of her face, making Lucy laugh softly.

"Nice assist anyway" compliments the brunette, making Ona smile. "I'm going to the locker room before losing all my fingers. You come with me?"

Ona nods and follows in Lucy’s footsteps, seizing her gourd to drink some water, regretting however that it’s not a good hot tea. Shivers run through all her body all the way to the dressing room and she willingly wraps herself in a blanket when she’s inside.

"I have no desire to undress" Ona admits from the bench on which she sits, huddled under her blanket.

"I can give you a hand if you want" Lucy offers with a grin.

Ona laughs softly and shakes her head, trying not to let her eyes slide too often towards Lucy who is changing. She is helped a little by their teammates who join little by little the locker room, Aitana seems even more disturbed by the cold than her. Unlike Ona, Aitana almost never left Spain to play, so she never had to face Manchester’s winter on a daily basis.

Lost in her thoughts, Ona realizes that Lucy is completely changed only when she comes to sit next to her on the bench. She passes her hand energetically into the back of the Catalan, seeking to create a friction to warm her.

"How about not showering now and taking a nice warm bath back at the hotel?" whispers Lucy to Ona while bowing an eyebrow.

"I really like this idea" Ona says with a smile.

Ona finally found the courage to get out of her blanket to change also, putting on with relief several layers of clothes to warm up as much as possible. In the bus taking them back to the hotel, Ona sits on a seat next to the window and Lucy doesn’t hesitate a single second before sitting next to her. They have no particular rules and sit very often next to other people, but this evening the older one have the impression that there is more than the cold which bothers Ona.

Ona gradually lets herself go against Lucy and when the bus finally starts once everyone has arrived, the head of the youngest is fully on Lucy’s shoulder. Even if Ona is tactile and her love language is physical contact, she isn’t the type to have such intimate gestures in public. But Lucy says nothing, promising herself to ask Ona questions once they are in their hotel room. And when Lucy gently puts her hand on Ona’s leg, she tightens a little more against her.

After a group meal in the hotel’s dining room, Ona quickly returns to their room but it’s only a few minutes after Lucy joins her. When the brunette arrives in their room, Ona is on the phone and speaks quickly in what Lucy recognizes to be Catalan. Understanding that her girlfriend is either on the phone with her mother or her older brother, Lucy gently closes the door behind her and approaches her girlfriend from behind.

"Say hello to them for me" Lucy whispers in Ona’s ear before kissing her neck.

The shivers that runs through Ona isn’t related to the cold this time, but to the pleasant sensation of Lucy’s lips on her skin. Smiling softly, Ona turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a small smile.

An exchange of eyes later while the interlocutor of Ona tells her something, Lucy smiled softly at Ona before kissing her nose and letting her go. Seeing Ona’s sulky face, Lucy smiled softly.

"I’ll prepare the bath" she whispers again.

Ona nods and sits on their bed to end her conversation, her eyed following Lucy as she sneaks into the bathroom. It’s not every time there’s a bathtub in their hotel rooms, but since there’s one it’s great to enjoy it, right?

When Ona joins Lucy a few minutes later in the bathroom, the bathtub is fully filled and Lucy is adding foam.

"Tadam!" Lucy happily sings, triggering the laughter of the Catalan. "Lady Batlle’s bath is ready"

"It’s Miss for now, thank you very much"

Lucy smirk for any answer, watching Ona get rid of the thick sweatshirt she had been wearing until now.

"Aren’t you coming with me?"

Ona’s question is posed with a touch of concern when she realizes that Lucy doesn’t make the slightest gesture to join her while she is on almost entirely ready to enter the bathtub.

"If you want, but I wanted to let you relax before I talk to you about something."

Lucy almost immediately regrets her choice of words when she sees Ona’s face painted with worry. The brunette frozes, with only one leg entered in the water while she was stepping over the bathtub.

"Nothing dramatic Oni, don’t worry" adds Lucy, smiling affectionately to reassure her.

It only seems to work half way, since even if she ends up nodding and sitting in the hot water, Ona’s gaze is always anxious. Deciding to join her instead of mentally slapping herself, Lucy gets rid of her clothes, leaving them on the pile of clothes already formed by those of Ona.

Settling behind Ona, Lucy sighs of relief as she feels her muscles relax in the hot water. Even if she seemed less affected by the cold than Ona, this didn’t prevent that it was probably not her favorite conditions to play a football match.

"Come here, Love"

Passing her arms on each side of Ona’s body, Lucy draws her all against her, smiling when she feels Ona pressing her face into the hollow of her neck. Sliding her fingers along her hips, the English girl thinks about the best way to engage the conversation. The language difference between them was never a problem, Ona speaks really good English despite her accent that Lucy simply finds adorable. And Lucy understands Spanish perfectly well and also does well in this language by spending time with their Spanish teammates.

"What did you want to talk about?" asks Ona, interrupting Lucy’s thoughts.

"You"

The answer seems to surprise the Catalan who takes off her face to be able to better observe her girlfriend.

"Me?"

"Yes, I think you looked trouble by something. As if you were thinking of something, not really here you know? I know you told me it was the cold, but I feel like there’s something else"

Ona briefly bites her lip before answering, choosing the words she will use to not lie to Lucy without worrying her too much.

"I’m a little tired, that’s all" Ona replies, continuing to see Lucy’s unconvinced gaze. "I’ve been playing a lot lately between the national team and Barca. And even though I love it and wouldn’t do anything else, tonight was really complicated for me. I was exhausted at the end of the game."

"Why didn’t you ask for a replacement?"

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows when Ona shrug, turning her head to look ahead. Her back leaning against Lucy’s front.

"I won’t let the team down"

Knowing Ona’s determined and stubborn character, Lucy can only imagine perfectly the reasons that pushed Ona to finish the match as planned in Jona’s head. And, knowing also that it’s useless to discuss with the Spanish for the moment, Lucy decides instead to change the subject. For the moment. Or rather try to relax Ona as much as possible. Stepping back a few centimeters, Lucy put her hands in the back of the brunette, drawing her tattoos with her fingertips before starting to massage her back. She presses her fingers along the shoulder blades and the neck of Ona, taking the time for each of the muscles of the Spaniard.

"Madre mia" moans Ona, making Lucy smile.

"Are you moaning already?" jokes Lucy maliciously.

It also amuses the youngest, who gives her a little playful slap on the leg. But apart from that, she remains peacefully motionless, too relieved by the attentions that Lucy brings her.

"You are so tense" the English mumbles feeling the muscle knots everywhere in her back.

Ona humms simply for any answer, eyes closed and as transported elsewhere by the benefits of this massage. She could fall asleep on the spot. But her smile was reborn on her lips when she felt Lucy’s lips again on her neck and in her neck.

"Is that part of the massage?"

"Only for you"

"Because you massage a lot of other people?" Ona informs herself, an innocent look on her face.

"No" laughs Lucy. "On the other hand if someone other than me does it to you, you have to inform me because I need to kill him"

Ona laughs softly and opens her eyes, tightening a little more against her girlfriend’s body, tilting her head back to look at her.

"I’ll think about it the next time I go to the physios at the training center"

Even if the sentence is said in the tone of the joke, Ona can’t help but feel a heat wave in the hollow of her belly by noticing the upset air that emerges for a few moments on Lucy’s face. The idea that she may be jealous for her will never cease to amaze her.

"Bésame, por favor" murmurs Ona.

Obviously, Lucy oblige and quickly breaks the few inches existing between their lips. Soft and tender at first, the kiss deepens when Ona raises her hand to place it on Lucy’s cheek and keep it longer against her.

A few minutes later, Ona had turn around in Lucy’s arms to sit on her lap, causing them both to lose their balance when Lucy slips into the tub and finds herself lying on her back.

When their laughter ends up interrupting, their glances plunge into each other. One arm holding her firmly against her, Lucy gently pushes back a long strand of brown hair behind Ona’s shoulder.

"You may decide not to take care of yourself, but count on me to make sure you do, Ona. And you can also count on me to take care of you. And you can talk to me if you need to, you don’t have to do all by yourself. I’m here for you that’s what a relationship is about to. Let me be there for you."

What’s the answer to that? Ona, who is still struggling to realize that her celebrity crush is sincerely and deeply infatuated with her, finds herself suddenly without knowing what to say. But, luckily, Lucy to find all the words she can’t pronounce in her beautiful chocolate eyes.

"I’m so in love with you"

Ona’s confession, pronounced no higher than a murmur is however perfectly understandable in the tranquility of the bathroom. Only the lapping of the water is audible, adding to the serenity of the moment.

"I’m in love with you too" whispers Lucy in return, smiling, before stretching her neck a few centimeters to capture once again Ona’s lips with hers.

[powderblueblood]

FOUR TIMES YOU WERE STRUCK INCAPABLE OF IMAGINING YOUR LIFE WITHOUT EDDIE MUNSON

(+ one, of the many, where he felt the same about you)

part of the hellfire & ice universe eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, you know the drill, minors dni only warnings are for fluff and eddie and lacy being cute and in denial word count: 2k tagging @chiefbonkpruneegg happy birthday pal <3 enjoy this nonsense

TRACK ONE: LET'S STICK WITH TELEVISION FOR TWO HUNDRED, ALEX

You and Eddie balance on either side of Ronnie Ecker's couch like faithful gargoyles, armed with soup and homework. Ronnie's caught the worst end of some green-gooed virus, so you two have taken it upon yourselves to deliver the necessities; tomato soup with extra hot sauce ("To snot out the demons," quoth Eddie) and history homework. But something on the television sucked you both right in, Poltergeist style, as you entered the Ecker trailer. Some hot young thing called Alex Trebek, captaining the maiden voyage of a brand new Jeopardy.

"You know who would kill on this show?" Eddie says, settling himself on the armrest to Ronnie's sniffling left.

"Guh, who?" Ronnie asks, huffing the steaming vapors of the spicy tomato soup like it's paint fumes.

You're pitched on the other armrest, pointing the rolled up history homework toward the screen. "What is the White H--US Treasury, are you fucking stupid?! Have these people never seen a twenty dollar bill before? What is the White House!"

You toss a glance over to Ronnie and Eddie for reassurance, just in time to catch them sharing a look. A good ol' Lacy know-it-all look. "Oh, shut up. as if I have more useless information rattling around in my brain than--"

Both you and Eddie snap at the TV in unison, "Who is Elvis Presley!"

Your turn to share a look. Game on? Game on.

It rolls on like that for a couple of categories, Ronnie sipping her soup straight from the container between you, hiding a smile as you and Eddie gradually bark louder and louder. Who are the Marx Brothers! What is 'break a leg'! Who was Napoleon!

"What, you're paying attention in History all of a sudden?"

"I'm a solid C student thanks to you, baby."

It occurs to you suddenly and begrudgingly and all at once; Eddie's right. You would kill on this show. But more than that, you want to wipe the floor and wring Eddie Munson out like the mop that he is.

"The greeting which opened each episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents."

"What is," both of you, in perfect Hitchcock tonality and without missing a beat, "Gooooood eeeeevening."

TRACK TWO: LIKE IF BECKY SHARP WAS FRIENDS WITH A BIG GOOFY HOUND DOG

Your first honest-to-god paycheck from the Bookstore was a fat wad of tens and singles plus change and it was handed to you in a brown paper bag. Invest this wisely, said Ivana, so of course, you followed your heart and your hard earned cash directly to the thrift store.

The front bell ding-a-lings and you walk through the door holding your moneybag aloft like the biggest, blue ribbon winning-est gourd at the county fair. You are proud as hell, because you did this! On your own! This isn't your daddy's money, this isn't the result of a once-toyed with idea that you might make a really good cat burglar, this was yours all yours!

"Put that down already! It's like you're wearing a sign saying mug me!" Eddie, bringing up the rear, yanks your arm back down by your side.

You laugh, mirthful and Hepburnian. "More like try me! I'm a working woman now, Eddie! I can hold my own! I can buy boots, guilt free, no strings, no blood money!"

"Uh-huh. consider that glass ceiling of having an after school job well and truly," he picks up a lamp from the scarcely populated homewares section, mimes slow-motion smashing it, "shattered!"

"Plus!" you cheerily pivot on your heel, a spring in your step that cannot be unsprung, even by Eddie's welcome to the real world, jackass flavored attempts. "Who would ever dare try and rob me when I've got a big, tough guard doggy like you three feet behind me at all times?"

Eddie's eyes narrow, like he's not all the way peachy keen on how you've pointed out your inseparability. But. He doesn't deny it either. A broken-stringed tennis racket bops you on the head.

"You owe me gas money."

"Shut up, please. I am shopping."

TRACK THREE: BUSTER MOVES

We'll always have the movies.

You sit, glassy-eyed, in your regular seats at the Hawk as The Cook starring Buster Keaton ticks along on the screen ahead of you. This Keaton retrospective, which you had been looking forward to for weeks, which you had been threatening to drag Eddie to for weeks, is going down a little... bland.

Not even that over-the-shoulder gaze that has Keaton beaming lasers of lust right into Virginia Rappe's skull adds any spice. You don't even bring up the whole scandal with her and Fatty Arbuckle, which would ordinarily be fertile territory to plow through with Eddie as a rapt audience.

In fact, you don't even tell him to kick his feet off the seats.

You've zoned out, because you still have the chill of the penitentiary's visiting quarters under your skin. Your dad and his cruelty that the bulletproof glass couldn't dull. The usual escape to the movies bit isn't doing the trick.

Then, you feel shaggy waves tickling your shoulder.

"I can do that."

"What?"

Directly in front of you, Buster is giving it his best Salome, his dance moves all angles. This display of pure deadpan goofiness was what made you obsess over Keaton in the first place, falling head over heels for a man who kicked it long before you were born.

And to your immediate left, you have Eddie Munson in your ear, telling you, "I can do that."

"No you can't," you say, and it doesn't sound like half the challenge it usually would.

Then, in a jolt that makes the whole row of rickety theater seats shake, Eddie's on his feet and stripping off his jacket. And before you can utter some totally perfunctory what're you... he's hot footing it down the steps to the splash zone, the front row, of the screen.

"You know I've seen this movie a million times?" Eddie says, projecting his voice right out like he's performing a one man show. Munson: Meditations on Dumbassery. You sit upright, glancing around to double-triple check that you're definitely alone in the screen. And you are-- Hawkins doesn't have as much a taste for the non-talkies as you do. And you were pretty sure that Eddie didn't either, and yet...

"Are you serious?" you ask, a laugh starting at the back of your throat.

"Does this look like a call and response? Let the maestro work, please," Eddie chides you over his shoulder, turning his back and hopping in place like a boxer about to take the ring.

And then, all of a sudden, he's... dancing? Sort of? Well, he's certainly moving his body, but it's nothing like what Buster's doing, and it's nothing like anyone's ever possibly done and not been hospitalized for, because the way his limbs are moving is borderline inhuman and you are laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing in a way that feels like Eddie reaching right through the fog of your horrible, dissociative feelings and bringing you back into the light.

You toss popcorn at him and he totally fails to catch it in his mouth, his face lit up in shades of black and white by the projection.

"A million times, huh?"

Eddie, breathless, shrugs, "Alright, I lied. But you laughed."

Point to Munson.

TRACK FOUR: LIBERATING MY MAGAZINES

It was a favor that he'd agreed to before you even offered to buy him breakfast after, a favor that didn't need sweetening up. As his van rolled into Loch Nora, Eddie's brows knit a little bit-- and you wondered how much of him regretted saying yes so hastily.

"On a scale of one to felony..."

Your house hadn't been sold yet. Repossessed, sure, but not sold. It stood there, darkened and quiet and gathering dust and the sheer sight of it being the only house on your street with an overgrown lawn made your chest feel tight. You bet the neighbors had something to say about that. You bet the neighbors had a lot to say about you. Curtains were no doubt twitching when you and Eddie pulled up in front of your old driveway.

"It's fine. It's my stuff, anyway."

About a half hour later, Eddie drops a pile of slightly-weather beaten copies of Rolling Stone bearing your name and old address onto a table in the diner, the remnants of your now-cancelled subscription.

"You gotta wonder what they're putting in that new print format that kept those things from totally composting."

"Thank god they didn't! I need to finish that Tom Wolfe serial or I'll die," you declare as he picks up a menu and you rifle through the pile. "Order whatever. It's on me."

Eddie snorts. You're still carting around that dwindling brown bag of cash. "You don't have to do that."

"No," you say, eyes darting around to anywhere but his face, "but I want to. For helping me to liberate my magazines."

"Lace. I'd happily liberate your magazines without the promise of pancakes," his mouth twists into this little grin you can't help but think of as sweet, "but they do help."

"Order enough to keep us here for a while," you say, and pass him a Rolling Stone.

The next while passes silently between you two, passing issues back and forth until one of you picks out something the two of you can fight about. Eddie twists his rings around when he's reading; you gather this from the looks you keep sneaking.

It feels eerily relaxed. Slightly domestic. And by the end, over-caffeinated with the way you two are soundlessly cackling over an imagined world where the cover of Springsteen's Born in the USA isn't an ass shot, but a full-frontal dick shot. "But where does he put the flag?!"

It's one way to kill a Saturday.

SECRET SONG: SWAPPING NOTES

In the relentless waves of the morning crush to get to his next class, he almost misses you-- just like he'd like to almost miss this next class. But then, there you are with freshly-manicured nails digging into his elbow.

For whatever reason, you've taken it upon yourself to make sure that Eddie Munson doesn't skip! At least, where you can help it.

"Yoohoo! Spanish is this way," you say, reorienting him in the right direction in that insistent little way that you do. Eddie's pretty sure that if he sat on you, you'd snap, yet he lets you completely manipulate his clearly superior physical strength anyway.

"We're not in Spanish together!" he tries, a last ditch to get you to turn around so he can ditch.

"No, but French is juste par là so you are pas de chance, my friend!" you tell him with a stare that says I've been tracking your movements like a hunter, dumbass. See my big spear? From that gargantuan folder you're clutching, you dig out a paper. "I have that thing you wanted me to look at."

"Sssshut up, I don't need everyone to know," Eddie flushes. It's not homework he begged to copy from you for once. It is actually this comparative essay that he actually thinks he might not have completely screwed up. But he kind of wanted a professional not-screwer-upper-of-homework's point of view, so... that's why your little red pen marks are all over it.

"Why, whose reputation am I sparing?" He sees your point. You are basically walking arm in arm with him. You. "But, y'know, I was right about you! The thought is there, the execution just needs a little fine tuning."

"So it was..."

"Not amazing! But not awful. I've done my edits and you can just copy as per-- but absorb them, please, okay? Learn something?"

Eddie's head rolls back on his neck with this petulant groan and he almost clocks a freshman at elbow level, shaking his arms in total frustration. God, now you were giving him homework on top of his homework? He should have just paid you to do the homework!

"I hate when you want me to better myself! Shit!"

"Well!" you say, in that bright, adorable, annoyingly-self satisfied way, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't see potential, so suck on that."

[what-even-is-thiss]

I read A True Story by Lucian this morning and it’s the sort of book that parodies things that don’t exist anymore and so despite it being pretty short it’s just one thing after the other of pure nonsense and pop culture references that haven’t been relevant for like 1800 years.

So Lucian starts out by saying that unlike SOME PEOPLE I could mention I’m telling you that I’m lying and making stuff up.

And then he does make stuff up. Tree women that trap men and turn them into trees too, flying through outer space on a sailboat. There are no women on the moon. The moon going to war with the sun. Guys growing babies in their legs, planting ballsacks in the ground and growing a tree out of them. Men grow on trees apparently. A city in the sky populated by lamps? Residents of the sun and moon colonizing Venus, an island made of cheese, pirates with boats made of gourds, getting swallowed by a whale and waging war on crawfish men inside. Accidentally sailing so far west he reaches the afterlife, taking massive digs at several historical and mythological figures along the way. Reaching a continent on the other side of the ocean. Promising he’ll write a sequel where he says how the characters got home. Never writing that sequel.

Iconic behavior. Extremely confusing today though even to someone like me who reads a lot of ancient lit and knows about a lot of the stuff he’s referencing.