#large dried flower arrangements

[shopeast]

4 Gorgeous Dried Flower Arrangements for Fall

Try one of these dried flower arrangements so you can take advantage of the entire autumn season.

[ladadiida]

a little sneak peak of my (angsty) aventurine fic ♡

a large bouquet of freshly picked flowers tied with a single piece of red ribbon sat on your right hip, cradled gently with both of your arms so as to not crush them.

you knew, after all, that the petals of a flower were delicate, fragile enough to fall apart with just a fleeting touch of a fingertip. you moved the bouquet closer to your chest to protect them, even though you were dreadfully aware that in a few days, they would rot and die inside an expensive ceramic vase with hardly enough water to feed themselves.

any onlooker would speculate that a yearning gentleman gave you the flowers in hopes for you to accept his love with the way you held them, like they were yours to keep and yours to treasure; and as your reflection in the mirror stared back at you with tender eyes, you began to feel that it seemed to agree with the thought. the vibrant colors of the bouquet contrasted the plain, washed out gray color of your uniform, but you allowed yourself to pretend that the flowers were for you and someone actually chose them for you with you in their mind.

slightly hesitant at first, you leaned in and moved your face closer to the flowers like a sophisticated maiden who just received a bouquet from a suitor, inhaling their sweet and earthy scent that reminded you of home. it was the same scent you would wake up to every early morning as you prepare to open your flower shop, placing them in their respective vases and pots while you water their sprouting leaves and budding petals, watching them bloom under your love and care.

you closed your eyes, imagining yourself inside your flower shop again. you would drink a cup of warm tea sprinkled with dried jasmine and lavender and arrange flowers together to create bouquets that would swoon the entire cosmos; and then a familiar pair of arms would wrap themselves around your waist, the mystery person placing his chin on top of your shoulder. you will try not to giggle when you feel the golden strands of his hair tickle your neck, and his purple eyes will sparkle with amusement as he began to open his mouth to whisper something in your ear—

"do you think she'll like it?"

your fantasy world crumbled down like crushed petals under your feet the moment you heard his voice. you forced the frivolous flutter of your heart to stop, putting on a neutral expression when you turned around to face him. he was already looking at the bouquet resting on your arms with a satisfied grin, taking off his tinted glasses to get a better look, reminding you yet again that the flowers he buys will never belong to you.

and it was obvious too. you tried to push down your disappointment as you scanned over the little gift you prepared. the bouquet consisted of red camellias (desire) that have the same shade as the streaks of a certain someone's pure white hair, and periwinkles (fondness) to match the color of her eyes. the flowers were screaming somebody else's name, but you dare not say it out loud.

without waiting for your answer, he took the bouquet from you, his gloved hands brushing against your bare ones, and you didn't fail to notice how the little action made your heart jump pathetically. observing the flowers, he hummed in contentment, "ah, of course she will. you are the most talented florist in the galaxy. i mean, look at this."

you blinked slowly, not letting the compliment get to you. you worked with him long enough to know that they were only a part of his facade. "i'm not sure about that. i was planning to get red roses but they were out of stock. i hope red camellias will make up for it."

he suddenly poked at your forehead with a finger, and this time, you failed to hide your surprise at his actions. the tips of your ears reddened, the shade becoming deeper the longer he allowed himself to touch you. he then met your wide eyed gaze with his empty and soulless ones, much different to the version of himself in your daydreams.

"don't fret. i can see you're overthinking. if my...tricks wouldn't work on topaz, i'm sure the flowers will. they always do. women tend to soften after a sweet and heartwarming gesture." he said, chuckling lowly and voice tinted with the schemes he's about to unleash.

the blonde pulled away from you and began to walk away, his touch lingering on the skin of your forehead. you didn't know what prompted you to do so, but you suddenly blurted out his name as his footsteps were beginning to sound far and far away from you like it always does,

"sir aventurine."

aventurine stopped in his tracks, his back continuing to face you. you itched to go after him, to take his hand and cage him in your arms and tell him no, that woman will never see you as i do, and she would never appreciate the flowers, don't go, don't go, don't leave me—

you forced a soft smile even if he couldn't see you at all, and said breathlessly, miserably, and hopelessly, "good luck on negotiating with miss topaz."

[yokohamapound]

Since tis Spooky Season, how about some wedding headcanons for our goth boys Bram and Akutagawa? :3

It might no longer be spooky season but goth bois are timeless. <3

Characters: Bram Stoker, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Contents: gn!reader, nsfw mention

Bram Stoker

Bram is certainly the marrying type. Once he’s found someone he feels he can spend the long years of eternity with, he’ll want to lock you down quickly and make it official. Dating is a foreign concept to him, but he will spend some time courting you. He’s very likely the one who proposed marriage, and like, you have eyes, so of course you were going to accept. Who doesn’t want to marry a handsome vampire lord?

It’s not enough to call Bram ‘old-fashioned’. The man is at least several hundred years old, (depending on whether his age is based on the actual Bram Stoker or Vlad Tepes, basis of the legend for Dracula). He’s between approx 170-600 years old. He’s seen trends become traditions and vanish entirely. The wedding would probably be some flavour of traditional, whether that’s a Western white wedding, or a wedding steeped in his spouse’s culture. If you really wanted to, you could have a historical-themed wedding to make Bram feel at home—just expect him to be finicky on the minor details.

“This is the incorrect type of date for this pastry.”

It might take some doing to find a priest willing to marry you to a vampire, or you can forge the documents and have a civil ceremony. It depends on whether or not Bram can actually set foot in a church. He’s probably relieved to discover civil ceremonies are a thing. 

Bram looks beautiful in a suit. Just imagine it. A suit tailored to his ridiculous, 6’5” height, possibly a tailcoat, with a cravat, his long hair tied back. 

You’ll have to bring him up to speed and explain that, apart from certain cultural traditions, dowries aren’t that common anymore, and that he doesn’t have to offer your father 50 goats for your hand in marriage. 

Bram’s a pretty romantic guy, but he always does it with style. He pulls out your chair, his hand is going to rest on the small of your back, and he takes the lead in the first dance waltz, no matter your gender.

The speeches will be short—he’s had to put up with too many of Fukuchi’s soliloquies to want to hear any more monologuing. The wedding dinner—feast, he insists on calling it—is sumptuous, although Bram doesn’t partake. (You’re his wedding feast and he’d rather enjoy that in private.)

Godspeed on your wedding night. Bram’s spent years without a lower half of his body and now he has it back, and a spouse to enjoy. He is…pent up, shall we say~

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Poor Akutagawa is still reeling over the fact that he’s getting married. I would say that either you proposed, or Dazai planted the idea in Akutagawa’s head that it was time for him to put a ring on it. If Akutagawa proposed, your ring is some beautiful antique with a large stone and a creepy story attached to it. Don’t forget that Akutagawa makes bank in the Port Mafia. 

Please, please, please plan a goth wedding.

Please remember that this is the same young man who said this when asked what he would give as a wedding present: “I'd gift them the enemy's freshly severed head decorated with bloody barren flowers.” Suffice it to say, Akutagawa should not be left in charge of either your gift registry or the flower arrangements. You will end up with a load of obscure antiques, knives, and bunches of rotting flowers “to show the briefness of our lifespans.” 

Maybe compromise with dried flower garlands or even black roses if you want to go full 2007 My Chemical Romance-core. (Look me in the eye and tell me Akutagawa wouldn’t look up if you played him a G-note on the piano.)

He hates being the centre of attention in the actual wedding, so he’s more than happy to deflect it all toward you instead. The moments he seems happiest are when he gets to see Gin wearing a bridesmaid dress, when Dazai stands up to make a speech (during which Akutagawa sits up like he’s in a school assembly while the headmaster is speaking), and during the vows, when he’s focusing on you and only you. 

He looks wonderful in his suit - let him have full tails and black tie and he'll be content.

Your wedding photographs look like one of those austere Victorian family portraits, save for Tachihara throwing up the bunny ears behind Gin’s head. 

Akutagawa has a secret sweet tooth he won’t admit to, which is why he tries to pretend that he hasn’t had three slices of chocolate cake. 

Either get Dazai drunk or put him in a corner with a plate of crab cakes to keep him occupied, because you really don’t need him making sly comments when it’s time for you and Akutagawa to climb into the car and head off for your honeymoon. His wedding gift for Akutagawa is an inhaler and a note saying, “You’ll need this! xoxo Dazai.”

[hotasfahrenheit]

a red devil dahlia by any other name

hi hello anyeong it's me your favourite neighbourhood florist who watches BL!

i'm catching up on Meet You At The Blossom right now on my lunch breaks at work (on days i'm not watching whatever Important Currently Airing Show Came Out That Day) and the flower they're using for the Red Devil Dahlia caught my eye!

so what we actually have here is not any kind of dahlia, but is in fact a real flower- that's a South African flower called the King Protea! it's even the national flower of South Africa.

they look pretty wild and come in a few different colours (we had light pink ones with pink centers we were putting in valentine's day arrangements at the shop i work at) and according to wikipedia it "grows in a harsh environment with dry, hot summers and wet, cold winters", so it has been able to be adapted to other locations and it's grown outside of South Africa now in various places around the world.

from this florist website, Maui Floral, king proteas "have the largest flower heads in the genus Protea, ranging from 5 to 12 inches in diameter. the flower heads are actually composite flowers, with multiple smaller flowers arranged in the center surrounded by large, colorful bracts on the outside. they have thick stems which extend deep underground; a survival mechanism for wildfires, since these stems can sprout subterranean buds that will then grow into new plants after a fire".

looking up flower meaning on the internet can be a little dicey since there's plenty of different traditions for meanings of flowers and flower language, plus people will just make stuff up and post it online, but most things i'm seeing agree that proteas represent change and transformation.

also, if you haven't seen a dahlia before, here's some actual red dahlias for comparison-

they are pretty decently sized flowers, but are typically much smaller than the protea, and far more delicate, with a short season of availability, so for the practicality of filming purposes, using something that dries well in a way that makes it easy to keep around and have on set as a prop like a king protea and that looks magical and wild makes a lot of sense.

but yeah! proteas are cool!

from the florist side of things, king protea can be mildly tricky to work with because the heads are very dense, which makes them top heavy, but they have thick, sturdy stems which is a good balance. dahlias, in comparison, are a much more delicate flower, with stems that can break easily, and once they are past their prime freshness, they shatter and all the petals start to fall off, sometimes all at once. proteas are considered a tropical flower, and we store them in our mildly cool tropical cooler at work with orchids and other tropical flowers instead of in our colder coolers for regular flowers.

tune in whenever i make another flowers in BL post i guess? who knows when that will be! maybe these will just be grouped by the generalness of flowers in BL since i did a post on that flower basket in the first episode of 4Minutes a few weeks ago and now this.

anyway cheers! 🌸🌼🌺🌷🌹

[thaylepo]

hubris

I've been super into repotting all my propogating houseplants and growing seeds from grocery store fruit for shits and giggles this summer.

Pictured are my many lil jade plant babies, my red currant tree that has survived and regrown from someone (not me) putting it into a storage unit for winter while it was still green and leafing (pro tip: make sure ppl caring for your potted trees while you are off in a different town for college know not to heckin do that), and my lil baby dragonfruit cacti in their Humidity Bins because it is dry as a popcorn fart where I live.

(Another pro tip: don't forget to open the bins, as pictured properly here, when placing them outside in the morning sun for some good good UV -- this avoids literally steam-cooking your poor innocent baby cacti. That one's on me. I won't show you a pic of the resulting carnage, but suffice to say about half survived. Luckily dragonfruit seeds are super easy to germinate like this and can be bought in the literal thousands for the low low price of 7.99 per a single fruit at safeway.)

But by far the most consequential of this summer's fucking around and finding out is this:

Context: So the downstairs bathroom where I live has a dried flower arrangement in it (i live with a lady in her 60s, it is her house). Said flower arrangement includes these:

(apologies to anyone with trypophobia.)

These are lotus seed pods, for those who do nor know. Large ones. These ones are only a bit smaller than the palm of my hand, and they come from this flower:

(Unsourced pinterest photo with live human being for scale. Note the corresponding palm-sized seed pods.)

Five days ago I found one of the seeds from these pods on the bathroom floor, idly looked up some how-to instructions, and I think you have all you need to put the rest of this story together.

After only two days in water, I was forced to confront what I, primarily a succulant and cactus grower, might have gotten myself into.

Some people are born great, some acheive greatness, and others fuck around with seeds from a tropical water plant that have been known to still germinate after 200 years without thinking of what exactly they'll do if it actually grows, and find themselves unprepared for the responsibility of what will become the water-garden version of Jack's fucking beanstalk.

I'm naming it Audrey II. Updates will follow.

[kookygranger]

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Steve takes you on your first date. Robin asks you a question.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, allusions to sex, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au, mention of dead parents

Word count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter Three: Sweetness in his golden hair

Steve had everything planned. He’d reserved a table for two at a restaurant with warm lighting, white tablecloths, and oaky red wine. When he came to pick you up he was holding a bouquet of lilac and pink snapdragons, crisp light blue shirt tucked into his best slacks, Harrington charm dialled up to eleven to hide the way he kept wiping his palms on them.

He’d even rehearsed what he was going to say to you on the walk up to your front door, the crickets chirping amongst your thoughtfully arranged flora drowning out his mumbles. But much like last time when he found himself standing on your porch, it all left his head. The sweet smell of your garden and the perfume you’d just applied hitting him all at once, punching a shaky exhale and a mumble of beautiful from his lips – though the bite of your lip to contain your shy smile proved it was enough.

But well-intended plans almost always unravel.

Steve saw the way your face lit up as you walked past the diner in town, the two of you opting to stroll rather than drive to your destination on this balmy night, and he couldn’t ignore your curious eyes.

Your attention was caught by bright red baskets of golden, salty fries and the artificial pink of sweet milkshakes topped with whipped cream and glossy cherries, but mostly your eyes sought the boisterous teens crowding tables that barely fit them and loved-up couples swapping stories and saltshakers. The scene was nothing out of the ordinary for someone who’d grown up in small-town America, but then Steve remembered.

Nothing about your upbringing would’ve been ordinary.

You’d never been on those awkward teenage or even adult dates, sat across from one another in a diner booth trying to figure out a common topic to discuss. You didn’t have your first kiss during a round of spin the bottle in Tommy Hagan’s basement, that lasted no more or less than three seconds, wondering if you’d even done it right.

And the look on your face told him that maybe you felt like you’d missed out – he sure would’ve if he were in your position.

So, instead of the white cloth tables and tealight candles, Steve steers you into a sticky vinyl booth, sliding in right after you and wasting no time in putting his arm around your shoulders. His smile lit up by the red neon of the open sign hanging in the window when you lean into him.

Through soft words, you both get to know all the details you’d been longing to. What your parents were like – yours dead, Steve’s miles away and as good as – what had filled your days in between your first proper meeting at that bar all those years ago and when you were finally reunited, and what drove you to get up every morning and face them now. You talked of literature, poetry and watching seeds grow to the mixture of leaves and dried flowers that scented your teacups. Steve talked of Robin and filled you in on some of the more exciting adventures he’d experienced working at the firehouse.  

When you’re both full of greasy food and comforting conversation, Steve suggests the eight o’clock screening at the cinema across the street. It was a single theatre, so there’d always be a comedy for the Saturday night showing to appease the masses – except for the second Saturday of the month, which was romantic drama night.

He buys a medium bucket of popcorn and a large soda with two straws and leads you to the back row. You’ve barely made it through a couple of handfuls of popcorn and the pre-show commercials before he’s peppering you with buttered kisses.

You give up when his at first innocent hand on your thigh finds its way past the hem of your dress, and somehow make it home without ever having to detach from him.

The curtains in your bedroom flow with a welcome breeze as you trace circles in his golden skin, looking up at him from the chest you’d made a home in, in more ways than one. His lips curl up when you plant a kiss between his pecs.

“Was that a normal date?”

You feel his chuckles vibrate under your chin.

“Yeah, all standard practice. But it doesn’t usually go this well.”

“Are you saying I should’ve waited to get you in my bed? It was a little late for that.”

He laughs again, still softly so as not to break the spell “I’m saying it doesn’t normally feel like this. It’s never felt like this.” He rubs the apple of your cheek with a rough thumb.

“Is that a good thing?”

His brown eyes bore into yours while he takes a second and you wonder what he’s thinking.

“Baby, you have no idea.”

You crawl up to him from your position, cotton sheets slipping off your back, his hands sinking into the hips that straddle him. Your loose hair falls around the two of you like a curtain; like the bubble that refuses to burst now that you’re finally able to be together.

“I think I have some idea.”

***

The driveway of the Ravenwood house is now occupied by a burgundy BMW most nights.

Since your first date, you and Steve find yourselves in each other’s company more often than not. If it’s not spending nights together letting the sway of the trees and chirping crickets, along with Steve’s soothing hands in your hair or digging deep into your shoulders, lull you into a peaceful state on your front porch, you’re finding each other during the day. Spending lunch breaks in the park, Steve visiting you at work, where you’ve set him up with a membership so he can borrow the books you’ve been recommending.

He reads them during quiet lulls at the firehouse, trying to keep up with all the references you make so you don’t get bored of him.

But you never could.

Steve now knows all about Austen, Woolf, Stoker, Plath and Joyce. He may not understand much of it, but at least he feels like he can keep up with your conversation.

You don’t mind the quiet though. Especially when it comes to moments with Steve. You’d happily sit reading, carding your fingers through his soft locks as he lets his body melt into your touch, eyes closed and mind at peace.

And you do. Often.

Steve’s grown to love it also. Quiet used to mean emptiness to him, and he’d often find things to fill the space that kept him social. Kept him talking, despite not really having much to say. But now, he loved the quiet. Your quiet. Because it wasn’t empty. It actually left his heart fuller than it had ever been.

***

It took longer than you would’ve liked to meet Robin, considering how many of Steve’s stories featured her. You were worried that meant he was ashamed or embarrassed by you. Despite the way he acted completely to the contrary, you knew it couldn’t exactly be easy dating the town outcast. The town witch.

Not that he was aware of just how true those rumours were.

When he finally brought up the idea of you two meeting, his nervous rambling about how Robin was a handful and would often just say what she thought, calling him names and never ever passing up the opportunity to bring him down a peg or two – but she was his best friend and it was important that you two meet not just because you were the two most important people in his life but because you were obviously going to love each other, made it all click.

Steve wasn’t embarrassed by you, or Robin for that matter. But bringing the two of you together would finally burst this bubble you’d both inadvertently created. It had been nothing but you and Steve against the world for weeks now. There wasn’t even a world to be concerned with when you were in each other’s arms.

But reality, no matter how difficult, will always have to be faced.

So it was with a pop, that Robin Buckley appeared at your door. Steve’s plan was to pick her up after his shift and bring her over to yours where you were preparing dinner for the three of you. But he was running late, some last-minute training due to a health and safety accident that would keep him an extra hour, and Robin didn’t want to wait.

She was desperate to meet you, asking what your intentions were with her best friend at the front door before wrapping her arms around you when she was quickly satisfied by your admission to still forgetting how to breathe when you were around him. She told you she was already obsessed with you and marvelled at the inside of your home as you led her into the kitchen.

You were pouring the both of you a cocktail when the phone rang, Steve on the other end apologising before you’d even got a word in and assuring you he’d be home to relieve you soon. You told him you were fine of course, in fact you were getting to know each other quite well and he sighed, stating that’s exactly what he was afraid of.

As you stirred at a green sauce over the stove, keeping an eye on the bubbling pasta pot, Robin watched you attentively. Chewing on her lip before blurting out what she’d been dying to ask you since she crossed the threshold of your home and felt a warm tingle up her spine.

“So uh, are you like–are you really a witch?”

Your stomach drops. Continuing to stir, you take your time in acknowledging her question. “I won’t cast a love spell if that’s what you’re asking. They’re far more dangerous than people realise.”

“What about a tarot reading? I just wanna know if loves in the cards, or like…any sort of relationship at this point.”

You smile, anxiety lifting as you turn to see her hopeful face. “That I can do for you Robin Buckley. Maybe I can come down to the bar while you’re working one night and bring the cards with me. Draw some fellow love-seekers your way. This town may claim to hate witchcraft and dark magic, but no girl can resist having her fortune laid out in front of her.”

Her head shakes minutely, voice a whispered awe, “Finally a decent wingman.”

“I’m home!” Steve calls down the hall, wrapping his arms around you and delivering a peck to your cheek as soon as he can, giving Robin a nod before he turns to stick a finger in your sauce, ravenous after a long day.

You and Robin share an understanding look. She smirks, knowing exactly how clueless her best friend can be.

“This is delicious baby.” Another peck, this time warm from lips to cheek.

[mosylufanfic]

A Mere Trifle

My first contribution to Rebelcaptain Fluffbruary! The prompt I went with was "dessert."

A Mere Trifle

Bodhi opened the fridge. "Oooooh," he said in delight. His roommate made sweets and desserts to relax, and Bodhi was usually the beneficiary.

"Don't you fucking touch the fucking trifle!" Jyn yelled from another room.

"Why not?" he yelled back, but set the bowl of trifle back where he'd found it.

"Because I'm saving it for poker night, you glutton."

Bodhi raised his brows at nothing. Poker night was at theirs tomorrow night, and while most everyone brought food, it was more along the lines of grocery-store chips and dip. Not a dessert of multiple layers and steps and approximately thirty thousand calories. 

He grabbed the leftover Chinese instead, gave it a sniff, and concluded it probably wasn't going to kill him. Eating beef and broccoli out of the container, he went to the other room where Jyn scowled at the computer screen full of her photos that she was working on. "Not even a nibble?" he asked pitifully.

"Nope."

He licked sauce off his thumb. "It's got all berries and whipped cream and custard. You seriously expect me to resist?"

"Yes, I do, or I'll shave your head in your sleep."

Bodhi put a protective hand over his ponytail. "You're a cruel woman, Jyn Erso."

She bit her thumbnail, narrowing her eyes at two virtually identical images of an empty lot. She twiddled a setting and suddenly the tiny yellow flowers blooming amongst the lanky dried grass burst into focus. "You've known that for years," she said. 

-

Poker night started around seven, or whenever enough people straggled in to get a decent game going. Bodhi expected the trifle to come out as they set up the table and pulled mismatched chairs in from all over the house. But only the two party subs that Jyn had picked up on her way home from work made an appearance. 

"It's got to stay chilled," Jyn claimed when he asked about it. 

"Uh . . . huh," he said, but had to go answer the door before he could needle the truth out of her.

It was Melshi, who came armed with various chips. "You ready to lose?" he crowed, setting a bag of tortilla chips next to the subs.

"No, but you'd better be," Bodhi told him. 

"Big talk. Beers in the fridge?" Melshi asked.

"Yup."

He opened the door, grabbed a beer off the door, and paused. "Holy shit, Jyn, did you make that?"

Jyn was across the room in a split second, smacking his hand. "Don't touch!"

"Why not?" he whined, cradling his hand.

"Cos I said so." She slapped the door closed. "Go stuff your face with a sandwich. Veggie's on the left side."

Melshi sighed heavily and went to pile his slice of veggie sub high with peppers and mayo.

Leia and her brother came in next, then Kay, then Luke's truck-driver friend, Han, and his large, hairy roommate, Chewie, and then Shara and Kes from down the hall. About half of them mentioned the trifle, and every time, Jyn refused to let them get it out.

It didn't escape Bodhi's notice that Jyn's head snapped around every time the door opened. It also didn't escape his notice that Cassian Andor, who worked at the paper where Jyn sometimes picked up photo gigs, wasn't there yet.

People skipped poker night for work, holidays, hot dates, classes, and exhaustion. Usually they put it in the group text. Bodhi checked his phone. 

"Nobody's canceled," Jyn said without looking at her own.

"Right," Bodhi said, grinning to himself, and arranged his bingo chips. "Okay, who won the last game at Han and Chewie's?" 

"Me," Kes said, raising his hand, and taking the deck to deal. 

Two rounds in, Jyn was looking very downcast, but she still snarled like a Doberman whenever anybody went near the fridge. 

"We ever gonna get some of that dessert?" Han whispered to Bodhi.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Bodhi whispered back.

The doorknob rattled, and Jyn got half out of her chair before the door opened. She sat back down as Cassian came in. "Hey," he said, brushing snow out of his hair. 

"Hey," Jyn said casually. "Thought you weren't going to make it."

"Sorry," he said, shrugging out of his coat. "I kept thinking I was almost done with the article and then I wasn't. How much has Melshi lost?"

Melshi flipped him off. 

"Not enough yet," Jyn said, and got Melshi's finger next. "Did you get anything to eat?"

"No, and I'm dying. Tell me there's something left."

She waved a hand at the subs, mostly decimated on the counter. He put one of each kind on his plate and added mustard, then piled the rest of his plate high with potato chips and the baby carrots that Luke had brought. 

"Should be beers in the fridge," she added. "Oh, and I forgot about a dessert I left in there, can you get it out?"

"Ohhh!"

"So he gets some of that first?"

"I see how it is, Erso!" 

"That's who it was for?"

"Well well well!"

Jyn scowled. "Okay, the lot of you can go fuck yourselves."

"What?" Cassian asked, popping his head up over the fridge door and looking at all of them quizzically. 

"Nothing," Jyn said. "Everybody here is a fucking moron, that's all. You find it?"

"With all the whipped cream? Wow," he said, pulling it out. "This looks amazing, Jyn. Is this the thing you were telling me about last week? Whatsits. Trifle?"

"Oh, yeah, it is," Jyn said as if it was a massive coincidence.

He looked at her for a moment, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe it survived this long with these animals."

Melshi opened his mouth, then yelped as if a Doc Marten had met his shin with force. 

"Well, like I said, I forgot about it," Jyn said. 

Bodhi looked across the table at her and mouthed, You're so full of shit. She ignored him, a blush spreading up her face. 

Cassian sat down next to her, juggling his plate of sandwiches and a serving of trifle in a bowl. "This is really good," he said with his mouth full. "I mean, really. Wow." He nudged Luke. "Get some of this, it's incredible."

"Thanks," Jyn said, shrugging, dealing the next hand. "It was nothing."

FINIS

[girlypopbops]

A girly pop's guide to hosting an at home coffee shop day ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Between the social appeal of coffee shops and the delectable treats and beverages they offer, a coffee shop date is always a go-to with friends. Sometimes I wish I could take all my friends out for coffee at once, but coffee shops aren't built to accommodate that. However, you know what is? Your own home! Recreating a coffee shop at home is a fun way to host your friends and enjoy all the luxuries of a coffee shop.

Here’s my idea for the perfect setup and execution for an at-home coffee shop gathering:

The Setup:

⋆˙⟡ On a large counter, island, or table, setting up a cute tablecloth and doilies for your coffee machine is essential.

⋆˙⟡ Have various coffee mugs and glasses neatly arranged for your guests to use.

⋆˙⟡ Additionally, have small, cute jars with various sugar packets, little spoons, and straws (glass ones are eco-friendly and aesthetic! Paper straws are also an adorable way to add pattern and character to the drinks).

⋆˙⟡ Ask everyone to bring their own milk or creamer. This way, everyone's preferences and allergies are accommodated, and it’s also a great opportunity to try different milks and creamers. The drink options are endless—like an open bar, but for coffee!

⋆˙⟡ Depending on your coffee machine, have coffee beans, pods, or similar items in a container tied with a ribbon. You can also include chai or matcha for variety.

⋆˙⟡ Embellish the table with flowers and other miscellaneous trinkets to add character.

⋆˙⟡ For pastries, a cake stand is ideal for displaying treats, but a cute plate with a patterned napkin underneath also works.

⋆˙⟡ Baking the pastries together can be a fun activity to add to the event, if you choose!

⋆˙⟡ Creating a fake menu to put on the wall is a sweet addition and ties the event together!

Activities:

⋆˙⟡ Crafting: Everyone can bring their preferred craft supplies or you can provide collaging materials. Chat, craft, and sip!

⋆˙⟡ Book Club: Have everyone read the same book before the event so you can discuss it over a cute beverage.

⋆˙⟡ Coloring: Similar to crafting, guests can bring their favorite coloring books or you can print out coloring sheets that match the day’s theme, like a coffee shop coloring sheet.

(This can even become a monthly ritual to catch up with friends, set new monthly goals together, or even align with moon phases!)

Ambiance:

⋆˙⟡ Music: Play upbeat tunes, as real coffee shops always have lively music! I’ve attached a playlist that might fit the event below.

⋆˙⟡ Visuals: Have something on the TV or a projector (preferably with the sound off). This could be a girly movie, a visually appealing YouTube video, or even a fake yule log.

⋆˙⟡ Lighting: Lots of natural light is a must. Additionally, candles and warm-toned lamps will make the space cozy.

⋆˙⟡ Seating: A table setup for guests is ideal, but you can also arrange pillows for alternative seating. If possible, set the table with placemats, a stack of books, and a flower vase in the middle. Tea light candles and scattered dried fruit or flowers will add a gorgeous touch.

Attire:

⋆˙⟡ Encourage everyone to dress cozy and cute! Having a similar vibe will really bring the event together. You can include this in the invite (digital invites are cute and make the event feel more special).

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Message on the wind

Paring: Mairon & Thû

Themes: Soft

Warnings: Alcohol use | Thralldom

Wordcount: 1.4k words

Summary: Mairon calls on the Lord of Werewolves to discuss an important piece of news he has received.

This was inspired by this art by @naarisz

“Lord Mairon has come, my lord,” an orc guard rasped. He stood on the other side of the entry to the council room, his shield and spear in hand. “He is at the northern gate, and wishes to speak with you on a matter of great importance."

“Do not keep Lord Mairon waiting, you fool!” Thû shouted. He set the parchment he held in his hand down on the table and rose, pushing his seat behind him as he did so. It creaked as it scraped over the polished flagstone floor. “Bring him here without further delay!”

The orc trembled and made haste to obey. He bowed, and then he ran, his armor clanging softly before the sound faded into the distance. Thû regarded the creature with great disdain.

Wretched things, he thought, only good for fighting and dying for the sake of the master’s cause.

He stepped away from the table and crossed over to the open doorway. There were thralls always standing by the hearth in the hall outside the council room, elves and mortals who had the misfortune of being taken to Angband and other fell places and who were then forced to spend the rest of their days attending beings who served a dark and dreadful master. Those who served the Lord of Werewolves were garbed in dull grey robes that bore his own particular sigil: a great black wolf picked out in jet and black thread upon the left breast. They fell to their knees in unison when Thû marched into the chamber, the air around him crackling with great menace when he did so.

“Go now to the kitchens,” he commanded as one who was very much accustomed to giving out orders, “and bring meat and wine and other delicacies. Lord Mairon has called on this keep, and he may be here a while.”

The thralls rose to their feet and set themselves to the task of carrying out their master’s biding. Some went to the kitchens to see to the food and drink. Another fed fresh logs into the hearth; the fire within grew brighter, and the chill lingering in the hall was driven away by the warmth it provided. Others lit tapers standing high on copper stands and lamps hanging from thick beams in the ceiling. Others still scattered little sprigs of sweet-smelling dried flowers from earthenware bowls onto the floor. Then the thralls who went to the kitchens returned, their hands heavy with dishes of cold cuts of meat and cheese and wild berries and golden flagons filled with fine wine. They arranged everything on a table that stood between the hearth at one end and a wall covered floor to ceiling with a great tapestry at the other end. Thû looked on approvingly. The hall was now worthy of receiving the most trusted servant of the master they both served.

“Now leave,” he barked. The thralls bowed and fled.

I think I know why he comes, he thought, harking back to the parchment that lay upon the council room table. And in a few moments, I will know if I am right on this score.

A werewolf howled in the distance, its cry hanging in the air like a mournful dirge. A second joined it, and then a third. Not long after that, many and more joined in, their calls chilling the blood of any who was not accustomed to hearing them. To Thû, the sound was as sweet as the sweetest music.

He walked to a large window that was open to the night and peered into the land outside of it. Mist crept in from the mountains beyond his keep like thin whisps of smoke, hiding shrubs and the roots of ancient pine and oak from the untaught eye. The moon was waning and partly covered with dark clouds; little light lay over the land. That did not hinder those who dwelled within the keep. Thû espied dark shapes speeding through the mist and leaping over roots and bushes. His werewolves were hungry.

May they have much to feast on this night, he told himself.

An orc came in search of him; she thumped the butt of her spear against the stone floor. He turned to the opening of the hall, to face her, and he discovered that she was not alone. A lord stood a pace behind her, tall and uncommonly fair to look at. His eyes blazed as if aflame. Gold glittered around his fingers.

“Lord Mairon, my lord,” the orc said.

“Hail and well met, my Lord of Werewolves,” Mairon said softly.

“Hail and well met, my lord.” Thû bowed deeply. Mairon was a Maia, after all; he would never be his equal. “I trust your journey here was a peaceful one?”

“It was indeed.” The Maia stepped over the lip into the hall, garbed in fine dark robes with golden eyes adorning the edges. They opened and closed every other moment, and in perfect time with the three eyes that rested upon his brow. The flames in the lamps and the tapers and the hearth flickered and then grew uncommonly bright, as if they were fed by his presence. He smiled when he set his gaze upon the table. “And I see that you have already set a tasty table for me.”

“Indeed, my lord." Thû went over to the table and pulled out the seat at the head of it. He lifted a flagon of wine and poured some of its contents into a goblet. “Please,” he added after the orc bowed and closed the doors to the hall behind her, leaving them to themselves, “have something to eat and drink, and refresh yourself.”

Mairon bowed his head and accepted the invitation to eat and drink, his robes hissing softly over the floor as he made his way to his seat. He only waited until Thû took his place by his right before he said, “A message was brought to me on the wind. A mortal lord is on a quest to retrieve one of the hallowed jewels that adorns the crown of our master.”

“That is what my own spies tell me also.” Thû, gratified that he was correct in his assumption over Mairon's reason to call on him, explained the message he received: a mortal who called himself Beren had hopes to secure for himself one of the hallowed jewels. This, in turn, would help him win the hand of the Princess of Doriath. Then he asked if Mairon wished to read the message himself.

“No,” Mairon said with the wave of a beringed hand. “But I urge you to consign this missive to the flames if you have not done so already. I also urge you to prepare yourself should this mortal come upon your doors. For if he should come, the sons of Fëanáro will surely follow; their oath will not allow them to rest once word of a quest to retrieve a Silmaril reaches their ears.”

“I will prepare myself, my lord,” Thû promised. He served Mairon a lord’s portion of the food, and was pleased to hear the Maia sigh with contentment after his first sip of wine. “Beren will not succeed in his quest. He will not go beyond the lands of this keep should he indeed come upon it; I give you my word on this.”

“Just so.” Mairon broke off a piece of cheese and bit into it. Its taste was quite sharp, and it went splendidly with the wine. “But we have much time still. This mortal must seek out allies first. He cannot hope to succeed in his quest by himself.”

Thû pondered this in silence. Then he said, “Beren cannot manage with the aid of the Edain; they do not have the power to go against those like us. He would have to seek the aid of elves—Lord Findaráto, perhaps. They say he harbors a certain fondness for mortals.”

“I am told this as well,” Mairon said. His lips curled in distaste. Ageless elves consorting with those who were so easy to sway and whose lives were so easy to extinguish was a notion he could never truly comprehend. They should be making servants of the Edain, he often told himself, instead of embracing them as friends and allies. “But it would be of little consequence in the end. What hope would an elf have to stand against beings who helped sing this very world into existence?”

“True, my lord,” Thû returned, serving food for himself. He helped himself to a sliver of cured venison and savored its smokey taste. “And the master would be most pleased, I think, when we present them to him, broken and bound in chains.”

“The rewards would be endless, for you and for me,” Mairon said, turning his attention toward the open windows. The werewolves had begun to howl again; he perceived great power in their cries. “Now tell me more of those werewolves I hear. I may need the use of some of them for myself.”

Tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

[presumenothing]

random novel excerpts #5, because ofc i had to pull up my favourite wanmian bit upon seeing @difeisheng's post (this is book 2 ch 7, for those keeping score):

Qiao Wanmian did not answer. A long while later, she asked, softly: "Do you hate me?"

"I did, once." With a faint smile, he said: "There were a few years when I hated everyone."

She nodded, slowly; that she understood…

Only to hear him then say: "But now all I fear is that Xiao Zijin and Qiao Wanmian cannot stay together always, til death do you part."

She listened, the moment hanging still; nodding, again, before suddenly shaking her head: "You are not Xiangyi."

Li Lianhua smiled, so very light: "Indeed…"

Lifting her head, she looked dazedly at him, and said softly: "Xiangyi never forgave anyone."

Li Lianhua nodded. "Nor did he ever tend the garden."

The hint of a smile touched Qiao Wanmian's lips at last. "He never wore shabby clothes."

Li Lianhua smiled. "He almost never did sleep."

She exhaled a light sigh, tear tracks still damp on her face. "He always had unending matters to tend to, almost never slept, always had some enemy or other, excelled at spending money, was always ordering people around, sending them here and there and everywhere… but always managed to make a spectacular affair of it."

Li Lianhua sighed, and said almost to himself: "And here I am terribly broke, wanting nothing so much as a quiet place to sleep in, and without much enemies to name, either. Oh, yes – the two pots of rhododendrons in my room are in full bloom, it's quite the lively sight, do you want to see it?"

Qiao Wanmian was still smiling, faintly; in this moment it was as if her heart had woken to something open and bright, and those events of old that had weighed on her for ten years, those things she never could let go – all of it dissipated in this one moment. The man that stood before her was an old companion, a friend; even a maestro in his own way. "I'd like a look."

Li Lianhua straightened out his sleeves, and said apologetically: "Give me a moment."

Qiao Wanmian dried her tears on a sleeve, brushed the dust off herself, and abruptly felt her earlier self to be quite laughable. Seeing Li Lianhua hurry around the building to the dustpans with a wicker basket on his back, she couldn't help finding it funny – couldn't help but wonder: if Fu Hengyang came to know that Li Xiangyi had spent an entire afternoon tidying up the candles that he'd painstakingly arranged to proclaim the resurrection of Sigu Sect, what would he possibly think? But then she saw Li Lianhua waving her over before she could get any further, and so she followed.

On stepping into Li Lianhua's room, she looked at those two potted 'rhododendrons' for quite a while. Both pots boasted fresh yellow flowers, open in full and rich splendour; they had indeed been well and meticulously cared for, and were growing with much vigour.

But now Qiao Wanmian couldn't help but ask, after an age of staring: "These are rhododendrons?"

Li Lianhua paused, baffled, in his tracks. "Fang Duobing said they were… I dug them up from the foot of the mountain, there's a big patch blooming there."

Qiao Wanmian coughed faintly, and said with infinitely kind patience: "These are daylilies, the farmers plant them for… for… anyway, you'd better return them soon as you can."

"Ah." Li Lianhua stared at the 'rhododendrons' he'd been tending to for the better half of a month, and said with an air of apology: "I should've known rhododendrons don't bloom this large…"

Qiao Wanmian truly could not hold back any longer, and laughed aloud. Looking at those two pots of 'rhododendrons', their gazes met over smiles.

Outside, not too far away, a person stood atop the trees, and watched the two from a distance. That person wore golden-edged robes of purple, a figure regal and well-built; he would have been of handsome strength, save for the extreme paleness of his face as he stared dazedly at the pair in the room, unknown thoughts crossing his mind.

In the room, Li Lianhua looked at the daylilies he'd so diligently planted, and suddenly asked with great seriousness: "If the daylilies are already blooming, that means the weather is about to turn chill – are the winters cold up on this mountain?"

Qiao Wanmian paused in surprise. "Cold? Here?"

Li Lianhua nodded with great haste. "Does it snow?"

She gave an answering nod. "It snows."

He cringed faintly. "I don't like the cold."

She smiled. "Xiangyi never feared the cold."

Li Lianhua sighed. "I don't just fear the cold – I fear death, too."

[shopeast]

4 Gorgeous Dried Flower Arrangements for Fall

Try one of these dried flower arrangements so you can take advantage of the entire autumn season.

[astrojulia]

More than Seaweeds

Mermaid's Herbal Compendium

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Name: Basil

Scientific name: Ocimum selloi Benth.

Disclaimer: As English is not my native language, there may be some errors in scientific expressions. I am also using local resources.

TECHNICAL USAGE

History:

Due to the shape of its leaves (heart), it was considered a symbol of love in Italy and of mourning in Greece. (Portal São Francisco, 2016)

4,000 years ago, the Hindus, who were percussionists in the culture of basil, exported it to Egypt. (Portal São Francisco, 2016)

In the last century, basil was used by shoemakers to attenuate the smell of leather. (Portal São Francisco, 2016)

The name "basilicum" has its origin in the Greek "basilikós," which means "of the kings or royal," to indicate its nobility. The Greek botanist Theophrastus, in the 3rd century BC, defined basil as an herb of kings. (History of Ingredients, 2016)

Description:

Plant characteristics: Basil is an herbaceous plant grown in gardens and widely known throughout Brazil. It is characterized by the pleasant smell that is released from its leaves. It has a quadrangular stem, and the leaves are opposite, sharp, and abundant. The plant produces small white flowers arranged on an elongated axis, with secondary inflorescences formed on each axis. The corolla has four pieces, and the plant bears fruit with four dark nuclei. It is a meliferous plant. Basil can be propagated by seeds or cuttings taken from the branches. It thrives in fertile soils rich in organic matter, permeable, and with high temperatures. (Treatise on Medicinal Plants, 2014)

Propagation: Basil can be propagated by seeds or cuttings from branches. Basil seeds are sown in 200-cell expanded polystyrene trays containing commercial substrate and kept in protected cultivation. At 30 days after sowing, the seedlings have four definitive leaves and are suitable for transplanting. (PEREIRA; MOREIRA, 2011)

Cultivation: Seedlings can be planted in pots or nurseries throughout the year. For this, the beds must be well prepared, raised to a height of 15 cm. Use 150 g of well-tanned bovine manure per square meter of bed and mix well. Sow the seeds and cover with 0.5 cm of light soil or fine sawdust. The recommended spacing is 30 cm between lines and 30 cm between plants. Irrigate at least once a day, preferably in the early morning or late afternoon. After 60 days of planting in the beds, the first harvest can be made by cutting the plant at 20 cm from the soil. (PEREIRA; MOREIRA, 2011)

How to choose and where to find:

Fresh: Fresh bunches and pots of basil can be found in fairs, markets, and supermarkets. Choose branches with lush leaves that are not stained or wilted.

Dry: Dry basil can be found in supermarkets and specialty stores. Look for products in dark packaging, protected from light, to prevent loss of aroma. Check the expiration date.

How to Store:

Fresh:

Basil spoils quickly, but it can be packed in plastic packaging and dried for up to three days at most.

Chop the leaves and place them in a closed glass container with oil.

Dry: Store in a sealed container, away from light and humidity.

How to dry:

Buy two large bundles of basil, wash them well, and spread them on a clean cloth until dry.

Separate the leaves and make layers of leaves in a glass bowl, alternating with thin layers of coarse salt.

Cover the glass bowl with plastic wrap and leave it at room temperature.

Stir once a day for the first three days.

The dried basil can be used for up to two months. The leaves become dry, and the salt absorbs the aroma of basil. You can use only the leaves or also the coarse salt.

Chemical Composition:

Tannins: Tannins are astringent and hemostatic, and their therapeutic applications are related to these properties. They are mainly used in the tanning and paint industries. They are also used in laboratories to detect proteins and alkaloids and as antidotes in cases of poisoning by alkaloid plants.

Flavonoids: The therapeutic functions of flavonoids are not yet fully understood. The group is known for its anti-inflammatory, anti-allergic, and vasoprotective effects (treatment of thrombosis). Rutin and hesperidin are important flavonoids used in the treatment of capillary fragility.

Saponins: Saponoside glycosides are named for their ability to form abundant foam when agitated with water (from Latin "frog" = soap). They taste bitter and acrid, and drugs containing them are usually sternutatory (cause sneezing) and irritating to the mucous membranes. They are non-nitrogen compounds that dissolve in water, producing foaming solutions by decreasing the surface tension of the liquid. They also have the properties of emulsifying oils and causing hemolysis. The latter is due to the ability of the glycoside to combine with the cholesterol molecules present in the erythrocyte membrane, disrupting the internal-external balance and promoting the rupture of the cell, resulting in the release of hemoglobin.

Essential Oils:

o Thymol: It has carminative, anti-spasmodic, expectorant, and anti-inflammatory properties. It also has significant antiseptic potential. o Methyl-chavicol: It has antimicrobial, anti-inflammatory, local anesthetic, and insecticidal activities. o Linalool: It is used for its woody, floral, and refreshing aroma. o Eugenol: It has anesthetic, bactericidal, antifungal, and flavoring properties, with a hot and spicy note. o Cineol: It has decongestant and anti-inflammatory properties and gives a eucalyptus aroma. o Pyrene

Herbal Actions:

Digestant: An herb that promotes good digestion.

Carminative: Herbs or essential oils that help the intestines release gas by relaxing gut spasms and increasing peristalsis to expel gas.

Sweetener: It has the ability to sweeten.

Aperientes: Aperientes herbs are mild laxatives.

Indications: Basil is beneficial for those who have difficulties in digestion, gas, heartburn, and headaches resulting from heavy or inadequate food. It facilitates the functioning of the intestines and acts as a diuretic. It is good for coughs, vomiting, and bad breath. Along with malva and sage, it helps in mouth infections.

Dosage: There is little information on the safe and effective dosage of basil. Usually, 10 to 20 ml of fresh basil leaf juice is used once a day, or teas can be made by infusing 2 grams of fresh basil or dried herb in boiling water twice a day.

Contraindications: Basil is not suitable for long-term use in children, and it should not be used by pregnant women in the first three months of pregnancy.

MAGICAL USAGE

Gender: Masculine

Planet: Mars

Element: Fire

Deities: Ares, Eros, Zeus, Apollo, Vishnu, and Krishna

Tarot Cards: The Empress, Justice, Six of Swords, Ten of Cups

Zodiac: Virgo, Scorpio, Sagittarius

Sabbath: Yule, Imbolc

Magical Uses (under observation of effectiveness): Basil is linked to love, health, exorcism, and clairvoyance in magical practices. Its fresh leaves can be used as a natural scent to attract passion. Hanging some branches around the house can protect the environment and bring permanent joy. In some ancient cultures, basil was placed on the chest of the dead as a symbol of a passport to paradise. Fun fact: There are over 64 types of basil. (GORI, 2021)

Therapeutic and Enchanted Recipes:

PROSPERITY TEA:

INGREDIENTS: 1 teaspoon of basil, 1 teaspoon of thyme.

PREPARATION: Heat the water for 10 minutes, then turn off the heat. Add the basil and thyme and let it steep for 15 minutes.

CLAIRVOYANCE TEA:

INGREDIENTS: 1 teaspoon of basil, 1 teaspoon of hibiscus.

PREPARATION: Heat the water for 10 minutes, then turn off the heat. Add the basil and hibiscus and let it steep for 15 minutes. Drink four sips before your divination practices, especially oracles.

MIX OF HERBS FOR LOVE:

INGREDIENTS: 1 cup of basil, 1 cup of rose petals and buds, 1/2 cup of patchouli leaves, 1/2 cup of lavender flowers, 2 tablespoons of dragon's blood.

PREPARATION: Place this herbal mixture in a bowl in your home to attract love.

HAPPY SIPS:

*This is a recipe that makes me feel really happy...

INGREDIENTS: Fresh basil leaves, fresh strawberries.

PREPARATION: Make a flavored water by adding as much basil and strawberry as your heart desires. Let it sit for a while (to taste) and drink it. I used to make this a lot when working at the office, and it made me feel fresh and happy.

Sources:

CUNNINGHAM, Scott. Enciclopédia das Ervas Mágicas do Cunningham. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

PRIETO, Claudiney. Rituais de Magia com o Tarô. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

GORI, Tânia. Herbologia Mágica. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

CABOT, Laurie; CABOT, Penny; PENCZAK, Cristopher. Tradução de Virginia Dalbo. Livro de Feitiços de Laurie Cabot. 3ª ed. São Paulo. Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

LADDY, Brianna. Apostila Magia das Ervas. 2019. Her Instagram

LADDY, Brianna. 25 Feitiços usando a Magia das Ervas. 2021. Her Instagram

MINHAVIDA. Manjericão alivia problemas intestinais e tem ação anti-inflamatória. Disponível em: https://www.minhavida.com.br/materias/materia-11744#:~:text=Existe%20pouca%20informa%C3%A7%C3%A3o%20sobre%20a,fervente%20duas%20vezes%20ao%20dia. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

SOCIEDADE BRASILEIRA DE FARMACOGNOSIA. Taninos. Disponível em: http://www.sbfgnosia.org.br/Ensino/taninos.html. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

PARODI, Lorenzo. MANJERICÃO. Disponível em: http://www.ingredientes.blog.br/. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

PORTAL SÃO FRANCISCO. Manjericão. Disponível em: https://www.portalsaofrancisco.com.br/alimentos/manjericao#:~:text=Devido%20%C3%A0%20forma%20de%20suas%20folhas%2C%20(cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o)%2C%20era,atenuar%20o%20cheiro%20do%20couro. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

GRANDI, Telma Sueli Mesquita. Tratado das plantas medicinais [recurso eletrônico]: mineiras, nativas e cultivadas. 1. ed. – Dados eletrônicos. Belo Horizonte: Adaequatio Estúdio, 2014. (Download the book HERE)

HOFFMANN, David. Tradução Euclides Luiz Calloni. O guia completo das plantas medicinais: ervas de A a Z para tratar doenças; restabelecer a saúde e o bem-estar. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Cultrix, 2017.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

[askwhatsforlunch]

Lavender Apricot Galette

Fragrant with the purple flower in all possible forms, this Lavender Apricot Galette is a delectable Summer dessert, and a rather easy one to bake, too! Happy Wednesday!

Ingredients (serves 4):

1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 teaspoon Dried Lavender

3 freshly picked just bloomed lavender flowers

a dozen just ripe apricots, rinsed

2 tablespoons Lavender Liqueur 

1 heaped tablespoon Lavender Honey (I brought this one from Menton last year!)

415 grams/14.6 ounces Almond Pastry 

2 heaped teaspoons Lavender Sugar 

In a large, deep skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat.

Once butter is melted, add Dried Lavender and lavender flowers. Cook, 1 minute.

Halve and pit apricots.

When the lavender butter is just foaming, add the apricots, cut-side down. Cook, shaking the skillet over the flame occasionally, about 5 minutes.

Once the apricots are just golden brown on their cut side, deglaze with Lavender Liqueur. Then, drizzle generously with Lavender Honey. Cook until mixture reduces and becomes syrup-y, about 3 to 5 minutes more.

Then, remove from the heat and allow to cool completely.

Preheat oven to 200°C/395°F. Line a baking tray with baking paper; set aside.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out Almond Pastry into a large circle, not too thinly. Trim the edges, and gently place Almond Pastry circle onto prepared baking tray.

Arrange apricot halves, cut side up onto the Pastry, from the centre out, into a circle. Fold the edges of the galette, slightly on top of the apricots.

Sprinkle apricots and Pastry alike with Lavender Sugar.

Place in the hot oven, and bake, at 200°C/395°F, 30 to 35 minutes, until pastry is a nice golden brown colour.

Remove from the heat and scatter fresh lavender flowers on top.

Serve Lavender Apricot Galette warm or cooled, with Kir Royal à la Lavande.

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.2)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: non-lifethreatening burns

Chapter 2

I came to in what can only be described as a very peculiar situation. I was fully clothed, laying in a bathtub, soaking wet. Above me, I could see concrete ceilings with warm glowing lights, and a hand holding a showerhead. Cold water poured over my chest, and I sat upright quickly in a panic. Turning to see the owner of the hand, I was once again met with those chocolate eyes. 

"What the fuck?" I said sitting up, head spinning too much to cringe at my ineloquence.

"I'm so sorry, I know this must be terrifying, but we're just in my flat which is above the coffee shop you were just at." My face must have shown my lack of understanding, so he continued. "I was being a complete bellend and was rushing to get to a meeting I was extremely late for and wasn't looking where I was going. I ran directly into you and when we crashed, my coffee poured all over you. I think with the fall and the shock from the hot coffee you passed out. I didn't know what else to do and your chest was bright red so I grabbed you and took you up here. Fuck me, I'm never asking for my coffee extra hot ever again..." he said, his hands in his head.

He looked up and said with such sincerity "I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am."

The shock from everything must have disoriented me because the first thought that I voiced was: "But what about your meeting?" 

Caught off guard, he looked at me in confusion and then broke into a smile. It was such a charming smile. If I wasn't so disoriented I would have had half a mind to flirt with the handsome stranger who was taking care of me. I also would have half a mind to get up and run, but this man's energy was too genuine, too earnest, for me to feel in any danger. 

"I called and cancelled it. Too busy burning beautiful strangers to do business today." He said rolling his eyes, half-flirting, half-self-patronizing. I laughed in response. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the twinkle in his eyes replaced with concern. 

"I think I'm okay." I stopped to assess myself. "I just feel a bit dazed, but otherwise I think I feel fine," I continued. 

At that moment I felt myself begin to shiver. He must have noticed too because he then pulled the showerhead away and started to reach for a towel, but as soon as he did, my chest began to burn with such pain that all I could say was "Oh my God no, bring it back."

"Fuck, sorry!" he said, eyes pained as he turned the showerhead back to my burn. "I'm sorry I didn't think this through. I soaked all your clothes... Fuck I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do." 

"That's okay," I said through chattering teeth.

"Here, hold this," he said, handing me the showerhead. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the bathroom, leaving me by myself. I shifted myself to let the water pour down my chest, avoiding my legs so I wouldn't feel as cold. 

Waiting for the stranger to return, still in a bit of a daze, I looked around at my surroundings. The bathroom was thoughtfully decorated- nothing like the bathrooms of the men in my life. The entire room was concrete with high ceilings and a large frosted window. A few ivory towels were hanging on the wall and a bottle of Aesop soap sat next to a beautiful arrangement of dried flowers on the green-tiled sink. Unlit candles sat along a wood shelf that ran along the tub, and a beautiful Moroccan rug lay on the ground, bringing warmth to the almost art gallery-type style of the room.

As I looked around, I reflected on how oddly comfortable I felt, aside from the shivering. The stranger didn't feel like a stranger, somehow. His personality felt... almost familiar.

"Okay," I heard, as the man entered the bathroom again a few minutes later, arms full, breaking my train of thought. 

Setting everything down on the wooden stool he'd previously been sitting on, he kneeled next to the tub and rambled on quickly: "Okay, so here is a mug of tea to warm you up a bit, I've only got peppermint though, I hope that's okay, and here are some painkillers- I could only find Advil but I'm pretty sure I've got some T3's hiding somewhere, I just need an extra minute to find them if you'd prefer those. I wasn't sure what would fit you, so I brought a few options- you can borrow those for as long as you like, hell you could even keep them, uhm, right and your burn, we can soak a towel in some cold water to put on it until the ice in my freezer freezes and I can put it in a bag for you- I apologize, I'm one of those knobheads who never refill the tray, so we'll have to wait a bit for that..." 

He must have read my shock as fear, because he then added "And the door to leave is just through this room, straight ahead at the end of this hall down the stairs, just so you know- I don't want you to feel like a hostage. You don't have to stay," he said, wide-eyed. "I just feel bad soaking all your clothes. And for bulldozing you. And for burning you. Fuck, I've really made such a mess of things for you, I am so incredibly sorry."

Realizing I hadn't yet, I accepted his apology. "Thank you, but it's really not a big deal. I'm just in a bit of a shock, but I think I'm okay." I said, looking down at myself, not seeing any blisters or blood anywhere. His eyes still looked pained, so I tagged on "I forgive you, you know," playfully, and his tense face seemed to soften a bit, smiling back at me. "You really shouldn't, I really am trouble," he said winking cheekily. 

I then realized that my initial shock was wearing off, and it was being replaced by a new one. This man was so incredibly handsome. His chocolate eyes were framed with beautiful dark brown curls that fell across his forehead perfectly. His eyes crinkled with such kindness and warmth, I felt my stomach flutter. His smile was upending, impossible to not smile back at. I had just noticed his chest tattoo peaking through the top of his white t-shirt when I saw he had a brown stain all over his front. 

"Wait, are you okay?" I said, pointing to the coffee stain. He looked down to see the stain he'd clearly forgotten about. "Oh yeah, no I'm totally fine. Honestly, I think you took the brunt of it, poor thing. Again, really sorry about that." 

"You say sorry a lot," I responded, smiling. 

"I have lots to be sorry about, unfortunately," he said, chuckling lightly. 

"You sure you don't want a turn?" I asked, gesturing to the showerhead. 

"Yeah, no I think I'm fine." He said, scowling playfully. 

I must have been concussed slightly because I then said "Actually... I think you're not being totally honest with me. I think you might like a turn."  I then turned the shower head to him, quickly and lightly spraying him before returning the stream of water to my burn. 

Mouth agape, he looked at me and said "You little minx." I giggled in response. "You DID assault me and then soak all my clothes... I think it's only fair..." I said with a devilish tone. 

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed.

That was all the encouragement I needed, and he must have seen that in my eyes because right as I turned the showerhead back at him, he hopped up to his feet. Both of us laughing, he stretched his arms out to block the cold water that now soaked him. 

"Mercy, mercy!" he begged while laughing. 

I lowered the stream of water, and I momentarily admired the new tattoos I could see through his now-soaked t-shirt. Taking advantage of my mercy, he lunged at my hands to grab the showerhead from me. I turned to pull it out of his reach, but he was faster, arms around me gripping at the handle. 

"Now you're in trouble, pet" he laughed, and I squealed in his arms as he sprayed me. I wriggled around trying to escape the stream and I yelled "I yield!" when he lowered the stream back to my burn, both still laughing, his arm still around my waist. 

Our giggles dying down, we stood there, much too close for two strangers. 

The energy shifted as we both noticed the intimacy of the moment. Panting from the laughter, he looked down at me as I looked up at him. His eyes, whatever was going on behind them, did something to me- my stomach sent into a frenzy of summersaults. His curls dripped with water down onto my face, a single drop hanging from his parted lips. I looked back up from his lips to his eyes and saw his eyes returning to mine from my own lips. We stood there for what could have been hours or seconds, I couldn't tell from all the butterflies that roared in my stomach. 

Overwhelmed, I dropped my gaze, the intensity of the moment causing me to break it. He cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, once again apologizing. 

"Sorry really is your favourite word, isn't it?" I said, attempting to break the tension. Once again, he smiled and I felt woozy from it. 

"Not my favourite, but it's definitely up there." He said, handing me a towel with a cheeky smile. He grabbed another towel and started to pat his hair dry. 

"I'll leave you to change, I'm going to go change too after my well-deserved payback soaking." He winked before he continued "Take your time. Once you've finished you can meet me in the living room- it's through here, past the stairs, at the end of the hallway." 

"Thank you," I said, genuinely. We smiled at each other, as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Shell-shocked, I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I stared at my soaked and stained clothes, hair dripping wet, and face bewildered. 

What have I gotten into?

[nymphoheretic]

Just a short little drabble for my bestie!! I love you!!

Pairing: Taiju x reader (dessy) (ft Draken)

Happy birthday bestie!! @linpunny

As you bathe in the rose scented water Taiju had the maids prepare for you, you could not help the dazed smile that spread over your lips as you remembered the text message he had sent you. Your husband was always very attentive towards all your needs, but he was even more so on this day. Your birthday. 

Taiju had woken you up with the most mind blowing of oral sex, his tongue doing the most wicked of things to you as his large hands held down your hips to prevent you from wiggling away. After he made you cum at least 3 times, he kissed you gently and sweetly - he was only so sweet towards you, only you got to see this side of Taiju, and had breakfast served to you in bed.

While he had to work today, Taiju had arranged a shopping spree and a spa day for you and two of your best friends. Of course, while you enjoy his kindness, you wanted to spend the whole day with him. But before you could start a clingy tantrum, he held up the reservation tickets to the most glamorous restaurant that you’ve been dying to try.

“I love him, the big gorilla.” You giggled as you got out of the tub and dried your body off. You walk out into the shared bedroom and spot the dress he had picked out for you to wear. It was sleek and sexy and in his favorite color that he liked on your skin. Slipping it on, you had just finished applying a bit of make up when Taiju walked into the room - a giant bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“Happy Birthday, my little one.” He placed the flowers down on the bed and moved over to you. Taiju wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your exposed shoulder, chuckling when you immediately stiffened in his hold before relaxing - melting against him. It was so cute how you would pretend to not enjoy his affections. “Are you ready?”

Nodding you grab your purse and place your hand into the crook of his elbow, staring up at him. You still could hardly believe such a man was yours and only yours. The way his beautiful gold eyes would meet yours never failed to make you melt, his fanged smile that never failed to make you melt, everything about Taiju was perfect.

Leading you out to the limo, Taiju places his hand on your lower back and helps you inside.

-0-0-0

Dinner was beautiful. Taiju had the table decorated with your favorite flowers while ribbons and balloons hung from the ceiling. He had gone all out for you and spoiled you so rotten for your special day. His hand rests low on your back, fingers spread until they brush over the swell of your ass.  He had one more surpise for you, but first. “In  the car, little one.”

“Thank you for everything, Tai. You’re the best.” You placed your hand on his biceps, squeezing them as you slide into the backseat of the limo.

He climbed in after you and after giving the driver directions to the destination, Taiju rolled up the partition. Your eyes widen when his eyes taken on a predatory glean as he pulled into his lap. One large hand cups your cheek as the other does to squeeze the firm flesh of your ass. “Mmm, we have time before your last gift. C’mere and let me spoil your body.”

Taiju took his time, and worshiped every inch of your body. No part went untouched by him. As he had you in his lap, cock wedged so deep into your cunt, arm wrapped around his neck as you struggled to keep your lips on him, someone knocked on the heavy black tinted window. 

You tried to cover your naked body back up, but Taiju had other plans. His hands gripped your arms, pinning them behind you as he increased the speed of his hips. Cracking the window just enough for him to say, “The door is unlocked...Ryuuguji.”

Ken opens the door, his eyes narrowing as he watches Taiju fuck up into you. He lets out a groan as he shook his head. “You got impatient, Shiba? Thought you agreed that we both spoil her today?” At your cute little gasp, Draken grabbed your chin and leaned in closer. “Tonight, we set our differences aside to spoil you, princess. You ready?”

[echo-goes-mmm]

Divine Intervention AU #3

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: non-sexual nudity

The next day was the same. And the next. And the next after that. Each night, Plaything would collapse from exhaustion and needed to be shaken awake each dawn. His legs and feet could have fallen off and he would have cried from relief. The men didn’t care, except when he’d stumbled and knocked his knees against the ground.

They’d shouted at him then, and let him ride for an hour while one of them walked beside.

After four straight days of travel, a city appeared in the distance. The buildings were grand, all white stone and shiny roofs. Marble statues and painted walls decorated the streets. 

He didn’t see any slaves.

They led him to a huge building, the roof topped with gold. They tied off their horses and brought him inside. The interior was marble in every direction, the floor so shiny he could see himself. Glowing golden lanterns lined the walls, hanging plants on each column, and the smoky scent of incense lingered in the air.

There was a fountain in the center, with benches and more potted flowers and trees arranged around it.

The back wall curved and tall stained windows let in golden light. Tapestries hung in between each window, and a large altar sat in the middle. 

Plaything wanted to look at the tapestries, but the men shoved him away, down a hall towards the back rooms.

Plaything prepared himself to meet his new master, but to his surprise the room had several people in it.

The room itself had a large tub in the center, steam coming off the water in waves. There were mirrors and tables with boxes of bottles, racks of clothing and displays of jewels.

And everyone was staring at him.

The men he was with met with a dark-haired woman and they exchanged a bag that clicked with gold. The men left.

She gave some official-sounding orders to her crew, and Plaything was led towards the tub. Another woman cut away his bindings and clothes, and said something he didn’t understand. He looked at her, blank, and she sighed a little.

She nudged him towards the tub, and he knew what she meant.

The water was hot, but not uncomfortably so. There was some sort of oil in the bath, and he could feel it pleasantly on his skin. He didn’t have much time to enjoy it, before the woman dumped a bucket of water over his head. She began to scrub his scalp, pouring bottles of perfumed soap over him, washing every inch until his skin felt raw.

Plaything was pulled out of the tub, and another person quickly dried him off. They had him sit, still nude, in a chair. He’d never been naked in a room with so many, but they seemed more focused on prettying him up than ogling.

There was no clock, but Plaything knew hours had passed by the time they were done. His skin had been rubbed with more oils, they draped him in silks and jewels, and he even had his ears pierced. They were finishing up his make-up when someone new burst in. Plaything had been vaguely close to the king at home before; he knew what a knight looked like. Was his new master the king of this place?

Whatever the knight said, it made them hurry. They guided Plaything back to the main room, and there stood a woman in long white robes embroidered with shiny gold threat. Next to her was another rich man, but not the king Plaything expected.

The knight placed his hand on Plaything’s shoulders. The rich man looked him up and down. He waved off the make-up staff. The woman, who must be a priest, shook her head, a frown on her face. She whispered to the rich man, who rolled his eyes at her. 

Plaything decided he did not like this man.

“I’m very sorry about all this,” she said to Plaything. 

“About what?” he hoped that the men wouldn’t understand him. They didn’t move to hit him, so he pressed on.  

“What’s going to happen to me?”

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