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citrinae · 14 days ago

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forgive me, for i love being bad for you.

sanji x reader (ft. platonic!zoro)

summary; everyone agrees that you and roronoa zoro are like two peas in a pod: cool, unbothered, hitting pubs on the regular. everyone, except your boyfriend sanji—who’d try anything to distract you from your visibly chaotic lifestyle. even visiting a potion shop. or: sanji needs to get out of his head in four acts.

contents; angsty vibes, lowkey love triangle, miscommunication™, abandonment issues, drinking, sex pollen, a little dubcon tbh, piv, oral sex (both receiving), facesitting, multiple orgasms, creampie, college/modern!AU, witch!sanji, jealous!sanji, afab!reader, wc: 7.3k (wheezes), mdni. spooky carnival is still in town, go catch it if you’re in for a bad time.

masterlist.

Zoro sets his glass back on the table with a forceful clink. There’s liquor rolling to the corner of his lips.

“I still don’t get it,” annoyance hangs from his voice as he speaks. “How the fuck you put up with him?”

Your reflection looks back at you from the amber in your glass.

“He’s sweet and he cooks for me,” you mean it. Despite Zoro’s lack of trust in your newfound romance, slightly taking to repulse, Sanji has been nothing but a dream to you. Resting his cheek on yours as you were watching some movie you borrowed for the night, swinging hands as he took you grocery shopping. Everything about him buzzes with the type of comfortable affection one meets in magazines, or in Christmas commercials, and you’re sure to fall harder for him by the day. “Have you taken the time to cook for someone you dated?”

“Yeah?” Zoro washes the accusation away with another sip. “You into cooks?”

“Apparently.”

“‘s he a good cook?”

A smile, prideful. “Nothing but a wizard in the kitchen.”

“Christ, you’re even starting to sound like him,” he teases further. “Putting random words together and expecting to make sense.”

“He’s a good cook, Zoro,” you tell him again.

There’s a pause.

“No kidding.”

At a loss of what to say, you clumsily try to fill the silence.

“Yeah.”

“As long as you like him or whatever,” defeated, waving his hand. “Just keep him outta my sight, will you?”

“Deal,” you say, downing your drink as you do. Bitterness lingers on the roof of your mouth, throat burned and numbed out. Suddenly your mind wanders somewhere else. “Care for another round?”

Zoro’s smirk is sly, devilish. “Now that’s more like my language.”

So you get yourselves a second refill that turns into a third, and a forth, until there’s no more use to bother about keeping count. Your surroundings seem to start whirling for a second. You close your eyes, then open them. And everything gets back into place.

On the day you met him, somewhere around campus, basking in the sun like a stray cat on trim lawn, you and Zoro hit off immediately. Scruffy hair, bomber jackets, eyes looking like he’s about to fall asleep any minute, Zoro is the type to never dwell on things for longer they’re worth. Always a guy of instinct, speaking truths others might opt to stay away from. On the other hand you have a knack for chaos he easily complements, so for over a year now he’s been a good and loyal friend to you, your time together something neither of you would regret or give up on.

He’s the one who introduced you to Sanji. Now it’s clearer to you that Sanji had most probably asked him to. Neither of them expected it when you agreed to go out with him, “It’s just a fucking date, chill out. Free meal you know?”; and to your own surprise, your heart skipped a good beat when you saw him that night.

Sanji. Annoying, perverted, absolutely fucking delusional Sanji, lighting up a cigarette in front of his car. Light fell nicely on his rings as he kept a hand around a flower bouquet—the pretentious kind, with a wrapper and ribbon and all. Red button-up, black jeans, coat. Heart-warming smile.

Everything about the scene felt like something taken from those really sugary rom-coms you and Zoro make fun of when drunk. Yet somehow you admired Sanji for putting in the effort. His hand quivered on the door handle, “You look sensational, my dear.” Adjusting your seat belt, you told him that he didn’t look so bad himself, and by the pink crossing his face as you did, you deduced he might not be used to having flattery thrown his way.

At dinner he told you he was raised in a small restaurant down east, and that they sold soy wax candles and herbs right next door. Wiping up your mouth with a handkerchief, you tried to come up with a quip around it, “And you stocked healing crystals and runes as well, right?” But then he just propped his hand in a palm, a wide smile blooming on his face that made you unsure whether he was playing along with the narrative or simply felt happy to talk about his past. “Sometimes we did, yeah. But we were more into the culinary side of things.”

When, a couple days later, you told Zoro that you and Sanji had spent the night together, he didn’t hesitate to let you know that he thought it a bad idea. He warned that Sanji was weird—not in the sense that he had a wandering eye or spent a rent-worth on cigarettes. He was simply weird. Fingers drumming on wood, “Caught him mustering some nonsense crap to a jar once. Like he was enchanting it or something.” Soon you were reliving the conversation you had on your first date. “You mean he’s, like, Sabrina the Teenage Witch?” Zoro didn’t catch it. “Who?” he said, and you waved him off. “Nevermind.”

The sneer he wore back then was similar to the one he makes now, seeing the blue light of your phone fill the room with a notification.

“It’s him,” you say, fingers instinctively hovering to your lock screen. Neither can you help looking at the hour displayed in blinding white: 01:51 A.M.

Zoro keeps himself from rolling his eyes. “Tell him I’m bringing you to your dorm.”

You text; the reply comes in a beat.

“He asks if you even know where my dorm is.”

“Of course I—” Zoro clicks his tongue. Then he snatches the phone from your hands and presses ‘record’. “Of course I know where to go you jackass,” he snarls, throat pulsing.

Taking your phone back, you check the message popping in not long after. “He says he’s coming over.”

“Fine then. Whatever.” It’s low. He sounds irritated. “Let’s pay and we’ll wait for your princess outside.”

And that’s exactly what you do; take care of the bill, grab your jackets and throw yourselves out. Feeling the crisp air on your cheeks, you realise you’re so much drunker than you’ve felt inside. You’re light, feathery, persistently on the verge of being blown out. Concrete flounders around you and you have to put in some additional effort to maintain your balance. Time becomes harder for you to register or something Zoro has just said made you cackle for too long because here is Sanji, your sweet boyfriend Sanji, parking his car not too far away from your forms. You can tell he put on himself the first things he saw in the wardrobe. His hair is slightly disordered, his step heavy as he rushes to your direction.

“Evening Angel,” Sanji chirps, pulling you into a hug, and you cannot help but dig your nose into the soft fabric of his hoodie, closing your eyes, glad to finally have something to lean your weight onto. His tone drops when he looks at Zoro. “Mosshead.”

Zoro’s hands are sunk into his pockets. “Told you I got everything under control.”

“Pardon me if I didn’t believe you.” Sanji is sardonic. “Looking at the state of this slump, seems like I was right not to.”

“Not my idea to come here, bitch,” Zoro drones. His breath fogs the air as he speaks. “Next time get your head outta your ass and listen to people before running your mouth.”

Some of Sanji’s cologne still hangs from the soft fabric. “This was the only place that allowed us to play cards,” you say against his chest.

“Aha,” he flattens his hand across your back. “At least tell me you played for money and bled this loser dry. Tomorrow will get yourself something pretty with stupid mosshead pocket change.”

“You done talking?” Zoro says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah,” Sanji’s lips press into a thin line. He’s slowly urging you towards the car. “We’ll be off in a beat.”

“We didn’t play for money,” you tilt your head to look at him, trying to match his steps as you distance yourselves from the pub.

“What a pity.” Between wry and affectionate.

You raise a loose fist in the air. “Till the next one, Zoro!”

“See ya daredevil,” Zoro shifts his weight from one leg to another. “Tuck your princess in and give him a sweet goodnight’s kiss, yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Sanji heaves, closes the door behind you.

On the way to your dorm, he doesn’t ask about how many you had or lecture about being alone—with Zoro—late at night. Why would he? He’s aware this is a part of you, and he’d lie if he said he doesn’t melt watching the glimmer in your eye and your lips curling into a wicked smirk each time you tell him how much fun you had. Though he does worry about you, sometimes, when you willingly throw yourself in all kinds of dangerous shenanigans. Seeing your head slipping down the backrest, silently Sanji casts a spell on your eyelids to make sure you sleep unbothered until tomorrow morning. Tucks some strands of hair behind your ear, yet his eyes are still fixed on the road, and his hands are both rested on the steering wheel.

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so exhibited with his magic had you been awake. But for now he takes the liberty to carry himself as if he were alone or in the company of the shitty bunch at the Baratie that taught him the craft to begin with. Foliage and plains and cottages move remotely in his wingspan while he continues to think of you. Your smile, your laughter, the nonchalant way you coil your arms around his own to show you around the places that you have so many stories to tell about. To him you are a bundle of new experiences and joy, something pleasant and airy he wishes to emanate himself someday. Always honest, always so easy to approach. Dandelion seeds whirling loosely in the wind.

But the one thing he cannot seem to take his mind from is that having a bent for partying also means having a bent for Zoro.

Lazy, shabby, perpetually absent-minded Zoro.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel.

Sanji has never really liked the guy, for reasons he doesn’t have the time or energy to list. Tolerance is perhaps too much to describe the compromise he’s willing to take; but he attempts it, for your sake. Because no matter how he tries looking at things Zoro adds something to this life of yours he certainly doesn’t have, or doesn’t know how to make up for. No matter how well you fit in his arms, early in the morning with sleep still heavy on your lashes, throaty voice narrating a dream so bizarre it plucks a laughter from his lips, the nights will always be reserved to someone he wouldn’t even bother to understand. Because he doesn’t want to.

Window rolls down; he lights up a cigarette.

Moments pass. His car stops by a pair of victorian-esque gates he doesn’t take long to recognise. He carries you on his back all the way to your dorm room, putting to sleep everyone he stumbles upon as he does; he isn’t supposed to be here, and certainly you aren’t supposed to return this late at night. He’s thankful you chose to sleep in the bottom bed. With this thought in mind he arranges your pillow and places you under the covers, slowly, gently almost like you were made of glass. From his tote bag he picks out a flask and a piece of paper he scribbles on: “for your hangover—sanji <3”

ii.

The sun bleeds through stained glass in dazzling shades of pink and blue and yellow. Wind chimes, cluttered shelves. Dusted books. The air is thick with the smell of wood and incense. Sanji picks at the fingers that he keeps tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He isn’t allowed to smoke in here, but fuck does he need a drag. Light catches across the variety of bottles and jars lined up in front of him, all displayed in eye-catching colours and labelled in alphabetical order.

Would I? He tries his best not to pick up the light blue piece lingering a little too at hand not to be a work of fate. Should I? Sanji kisses his teeth; he takes the thing into his palm.

There’s a piece of paper attached by lace ribbon. Writing is dainty, yet small and hardly intelligible.

Truth shows itself in wicked colours;

betrayal, freedom, promise.

For they who shall drink this wicked brew

take a night in their beloved’s embrace.

Is their bond seen pure and true,

the Garden sees no place for others.

Like the first lovers on Earth—

runaways from Eden, they shall be.

Sanji takes a deep breath. Flips the flask on all sides, reading and rereading, biting his inner cheek. It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. He does, with all his heart. And yet he cannot help but shamelessly wonder: if Zoro hadn’t introduced you, would you and him have ended up together? Does he stand in the way of something which is meant to be? “I’m pathetic, fuck.”

He tastes blood.

Talking to you about this is out of the question, since that would mean admitting Zoro is a better match for you. Plus, honesty is one of the things he admires about you. He’s sure you wouldn’t cheat. To bring this up would only lead to conflict and the sort of disappointment he’d rather choke to death than see reflected in your eyes.

“This shit is ridiculous.”

The flask makes a frail sound as Sanji throws it in his basket. Stomping the floor with his foot, a cold sweat bobbing at his nape, at checkout he’s greeted by a gorgeous woman dressed in a velvet dress and speaking with a faint voice he doesn’t care enough to pay attention to. There’s a black cat sleeping on a shelf behind her.

“Is this everything you needed?” she asks, carefully placing the goods in a paper pag.

Sanji drops some cash on the counter and leaves without saying a thing to her.

iii.

“What do you think, my dear?” Sanji asks you on the other side of the table. The potion he bought a week ago forms a bump inside the pocket of his dress pants.

You want to be sure of your answer, so you take another forkful of your food, still steaming hot and methodically arranged on the plate. It’s good. No, it’s tremendously good, better than you imagined it to be.

“Sanji, this is incredible,” you say, not allowing yourself the time to fully swallow. “And I’m not only saying this because I like complimenting you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His face brightens, a mix of pride and the unpretentious joy he takes from cooking to other people. However he still looks to be preoccupied by something else you never find the right timing to ask about.

Embarrassment hitching up your throat, you drag your fork across ceramic. Sanji stays silent for a moment; his plate is barely touched. In hopes to escape the tension, your eyes wander to look at his curtains, his shelves, an enframed picture with a gruff old man and a much younger Sanji cheerily holding out a slice of lemon cheesecake. The apartment is small, but tasteful, with decent flooring and a rent anyone your age can afford. White walls, light blue cushioning. A closed balcony where he grows basil and rosemary.

You are going to sleep over tonight. It’s not that you've never done this before; have dinner together before deciding on a movie you’ll never get to watch because his hand grips on your thigh a little too tightly and your knee presses itself somewhere too bold to go unnoticed. But something feels different now, you cannot quite tell why. He feels different. With his avoidant eyes and stuttering words and index finger that frequently climbs to scratch an eyebrow.

“If you wanted to break up with me you could’ve chosen a café, you know?” you hear yourself saying, arms folded.

“What?” His chair scrapes the floor; he tries not to cringe from the sound. “No, no.” It's ferm. It's rushed. “Why would you think that?” goes unsaid.

Fingertips digging into the table, Sanji doesn't know how he ended up on his feet. He takes the opportunity to take the seat next to yours, plate and cutlery clanking along as he does. “No one's breaking up with anyone, sweetheart,” words fight their way through the knot in Sanji's throat.

Sanji shoves his fork in his food which now looks less parmigiana and more like something a primary school kid would make for their art class assignment. Fuck, adding wasted food to his trainwreck fog of thoughts is the last thing he wants for tonight. After he swallows it down, his tone finally relaxes.

“I was actually thinking of proposing something, now that we’re soon to move up to dessert. Something I'd like us to try,” he says.

It registers quickly. “Like in bed?”

“It might sound a little weird, though.” Sanji avoids meeting your eyes. His chest rises and falls in a disjointed rhythm as he tries his best to empty his plate.

“I like weird,” you say, propping your head on a fist, curiosity pushing your mouth a little higher.

He cannot help but mimic your smile. “Well I bought us something.”

“You did.”

“Yeah, I did.” Not wasting any more time, he pulls the flask out of his pocket, displays it on the dinner table—clear liquid bottled in cerulean crystal, ribbon unfastened and label removed. Your eyes widen. “I was doing some grocery shopping, and stumbled upon this,” Sanji explains.

You take it in your hands, blinking, carefully not to damage the contents. “Is this an aphrodisiac?”

“You can call it that,” he says. “It stimulates the senses, so everything should feel a little more intense than usual. I know I haven’t been necessarily adventurous with you, dear,” looking into his plate, then at you. Inevitably he starts thinking of Zoro. “Thought maybe I can start from somewhere.”

Your hand reaches his. “You don’t have to go out of your way for me. You’re perfect for me, yeah? And I have fun with you. Lots of it, actually.”

“I know—” heat rising in throat, he reaches to loosen his shirt collar. “I mean, you’re perfect for me, too, hell I cherish each and every moment we spend together. Kind of felt intrigued to experience this with you, is all. However it’s definitely ok and understandable if you don’t feel comfortable doing it.”

Inspecting the flask in your hands, you give it a second of thought. You know the kind of shops Sanji frequents: equipped with dust and smoke and mysteries. The between-buildings types you have asked about before, and received a response either too vague or too straightforward to be taken seriously. Even still, trust has never been an obstacle. You trust Sanji; he has trustworthy eyes and a soothing voice that feels like a kiss on one’s eyelids. He’s good to you, always has been, when he cradles your face in his palms and calls you his sun and moon and stars, stardust dripping from his eyes as he assures you’re the best he’s had.

“Does this have any side effect or some sort?” you look up to search for his gaze, and like pulled by a magnet Sanji returns it.

“No,” he says. “Wears off in the morning. Like nothing happened.”

If you don’t end up running to Zoro, that is. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach as the thought snipes through his mind. He’s not sure how to feel about lying to you, either. But maybe it’s for the best; if it turns out he isn’t your meant-to-be after all.

Decisive, “Fuck it. Let’s do it, then.”

Sanji’s smirk fades out the anxiety. “In this case our next course will consist of one more secret ingredient.”

Feet swinging, tapping against the floor. Walls drifting apart and closing in. Moments have passed through you like sequences from a dream, and you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater as Sanji sets the dessert on the table—two delicate things, like they were long intended to play the highlight of your night, light pink and beautifully decorated with dried rose petals and pomegranate seeds. For a minute you marvel at Sanji’s attention to detail, the love he puts into any dish as he turns them into something special and palatable.

“Baby,” your laugh is a casual play at fragrancy Sanji takes in with a one-sided smile. “There’s no way I can run my teaspoon into this.”

He takes the seat to your right. “The real deal happens when you taste it, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a teaspoon of his own, strands of blonde hair brushing one cheek as he does.

And when you eventually do it, run tableware through moulded cream, you relish the sweetness that melts on the roof of your mouth. Sanji asks if you can tell the other thing apart from the dish. You say no, I don’t, do you? I think it’s the pomegranate, he acts like he’s uncertain even though you’re sure it shouldn’t take more than a few seconds. I only used some as decor. But here it’s rather pungent, not that I’m complaining. Child’s play. Halfway through your tasting, a second question comes.

Do you feel anything?

I don’t.

Do you?

No.

Sanji’s heart clutches in his chest. He’s impatient, laughable even, he knows he is, since spells like this should take longer to surface. Three times he mouthed the chant and the potion gracefully vanished into steam as it poured down the servings, no drops left. By the look of that, Sanji might at least expect something to happen. Either bad or reassuring.

Yet you stay your familiar comfortable selves even after you’ve eaten the whole thing, carrying on as such when you help him—at least attempting to, he never lets you lift a finger—clean the table and watch him washing the dishes from one of his counters. Sleeves pushed to elbows, fingers sunk into the sponge, hair pushed into concentrated, concentrating eyes. Water rolls off his wrists—drip, drop. He tells you something, but you cannot hear him. It hovers towards the ceiling and in the back of your head, a muffled sound engulfing you not less like the numbing feeling of being underwater. Shamelessly you ask him to repeat.

Okay, maybe you do start feeling some way.

Sanji turns off the tap. A crushing silence.

“I was wondering if you thought of something to watch tonight,” he turns to look at you, and stops.

He cannot tell if it’s your eyes, suddenly looking bigger, or your collarbones, stretching in and out in anticipation, wet lips looking wetter, slightly parted as you breathe, but he feels helplessly drawn to you, like you’ve been tied up by some invisible rope that keeps rolling up, more and more, thinning the space between your bodies. Air catches in his lungs as he lets himself be torn apart by his awe and not knowing what to do with it.

Just as indiscreetly you wrap your eyes around his shoulders, his chest, his biceps, looking so much more strained under his shirt. Watching him make a step towards you, it seems like his eyes have gotten brighter, cheeks catching a faint tinge of pink, and you have to fight the impulse to dip a hand under your sweater and see how those long fingers of his would feel on you.

Your fingertips bite into the front edges of the counter. “Not yet, no,” you say, a little disconnected from yourself. Sanji’s scent is an intoxicating mix of rosemary and sandalwood. “Guess we’ll have to browse and see what comes our way.”

“Sure. We’ll look.” Stepping forward, Sanji is the most relaxed he’s felt in days, his limbs and shoulders so much lighter as he moves, comfortably numb in the absence of a thought which has weighted on his back like a fiend draining him of his life force. He knows he has been waiting for something tonight, an answer, you calling a name he cannot bring himself to remember, and yet his mind is blank with nothing but the image of his lips crashing on yours.

His presence radiates need, and it sends an electric shiver down your spine as he comes closer to you, fingers running over your knuckles. When your eyes align with his, you find it impossible to look anywhere else. So you sink into the blue and drown. Sanji leans further in, and his breath is sultry against your earshell as he speaks.

“Fuck knows what’s happening to me, dear,” he says, a hoarse sound that makes your thighs squeeze together. “But please tell me you’ll ride my face before anything else.”

But he sure knows what’s going on. He put a spell on you; or something along these lines.

Your body moves by its own as you push forward, biting your bottom lip, pressing your chest against his. “Want me to fuck your mouth, pretty?” your tone echoes the urgency of his request.

His lips trail down your ear and across your neck. Suddenly your legs are wrapped around his torso. “Oh, and even more,” he tells you. “I want you to cream on my mouth so much that you’ll never find any other to please you just as good.”

“Then why am I not in your bed yet?” It comes out more desperate than it should. Without realising your fingers have unfastened at least two of his shirt buttons, and now they seem to cling onto his collar for dear life.

Something flares in him; powerful, primal, which he hasn’t been aware he’s had before, sliding a hand under your hips and picking you up before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss is deep, all tongue. You return it with closed eyes and a breathy moan that pulls Sanji in a frenzied daze. Hands curled at his nape, you lose yourself in the taste of nicotine and pomegranates as you let him carry you past dim lit walls and into the bedroom. He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. When he hurls you in bed, it’s with a deliberate movement, careful not to bruise you in any way but not the less forceful altogether.

Then you take care of the rest of his buttons and belt, and he moves his focus to your pants, tugging them off while your mouths can’t gather the resolve to leave each other. Your fingers rake themselves through his hair. Smoothing the skin under your sweater, his hands stop to flatten around your breast. As Sanji presses his weight on you, it becomes impossible not to notice how fucking hard he is, greedy and throbbing against your soaked panties. He’s at his most unbridled tonight, and yet he touches you with the ritualistic devotion of a priest, mouthing syrup into your ear like lighting candles on an altar. The full moon spills in her light through the window, blue and delicate, and for a moment there you are sure Sanji’s contours have caught a prismatic glow, colourful flashes whirling in your vision, wavering around him like some sort of aura.

After he breaks away, you are still tied together by a thin thread of saliva. He pushes your panties aside, and your back arches when he slides a digit, and then a second one, into your slit. There’s lust in his eyes, the kind you’ve never seen on him before, drinking in the sweet faces you make while his fingers press in and out of you in circling motions, rubbing your clit just so sweetly as he does.

“Look how wet you are, dearest,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Always such a lovely mess for me.”

“I want you, Sanji,” you say, aware that you cannot hide the way he makes you feel by looking at him alone.

It’s you, Sanji.

Your voice echoes in his heart like water dripping in a cave, let it melt inside him with something close to relief. He wants to thank you; and yet he cannot tell exactly what for. What he does instead is pull you into another kiss, less vicious and more affectionate, keeping you close with a hand flattened on your nape.

The more you kiss him the brighter the room looks. Spectral rainbow fading behind his form.

“Could you shift your hips for me?” Sanji eventually suggests. “Let me taste you, honey.”

It doesn’t take long to figure out what he means by that. Like a thing of habit, you let Sanji take your spot on the bed, then climb your way onto his face. You take yourself a moment before starting to move, but all wariness disappears the moment he drags a flat tongue across your slit. His voice vibrates into your core as your taste has him mumbling seared praises against your folds. Further you drop yourself on his mouth, and more he laps at your pussy, wet and desperate, coaxing you those sounds that fill the room and blend in with the moonlight.

Sanji’s tongue has always managed to make you shiver. But this time is different, because you can feel everything; nose and beard and lips, drenched in your slick, white-hot as they rub themselves against your favourite spots. You can feel it when his eyes close and open, taking his time to savour the moment, and when he lets out a pleasured sigh to let you know how grateful he is to be allowed the luxury of tasting you, there is a delirious sensation rushing from your heat and climbing to your back like an electrical shock. It makes you thrust your hips harder against his mouth, call out his name with the urgent solemnity you didn’t know your voice could be able to reproduce.

Looking at the way Sanji’s lower body tries to helplessly grind against nothing, cock straining in the confines of his boxers, bulging and stained with precum, you come to realise he must be feeling the same as you do. Oh, but Sanji revels in seeing how sweet you can be for him, and how good he can make you feel when he eats you out. He doesn’t mind the pain as long as he gets to lick you off his chin after he’s done. Never someone to dismiss your pleasure over his own. And yet.

As his mouth diligently works on the heat that is now building in your stomach, and your movements pick up in pace to reach the high, you cannot help not to stare at his cock, thrusting the air to catch up with your rhythm. Hands running a touch across his stomach, you lick your lips. Sanji moans into you when you lean down to tug at his boxers.

“Angel, what—” you hear him saying.

Not allowing him the time to protest, you press yourself onto his face. “I’m so close, please,” you inform him, in a voice you don’t recognise. “Please don’t stop.”

So he doesn’t, running his tongue around your clit, not letting a single drop go to waste. You’re almost there.

“Good goddess, fuck,” he huffs, feeling your hands on his balls, and shortly after your mouth kissing him at the tip.

He comes that instant; let heat shoot in your mouth and down your throat as you wrap your lips around him, swallowing and licking off everything you can. There is something wrecked in his voice as he’s taken through his crescendo, something like a prayer sent to an all-mighty, and even then he continues to kiss your folds and drag his tongue across you until you come to climb a peak of your own. With Sanji’s taste lingering on the roof of your mouth, tears begin to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you call for him, over and over again, enveloped in pleasures you never thought that existed.

Only when you’re brought back, a panting mess, you realise Sanji remained just as hard as you left him—something only that weird sex drink could’ve made it happen. You take the opportunity to lift your hips from his mouth and better adjust yourself at his crotch; he starts shifting awkwardly the moment you do.

“There’s no need to, really.” Sanji is hesitant as he looks down at you, lips red and goatee still soaked with your slick.

“But I want my meal,” you say, already licking at the tip. “It’s only fair you let me have one too.”

He’s having a hard time saying no to you; but how can he, when you talk with that voice, and when you look at him with those pleading eyes that reflect the gates to Heaven and more? Your mouth takes a little more of him, hot tongue trailing up and down his cock, and his eyes roll back into his head in visible defeat.

Sanji runs his fingers through your hair. His tone takes to yearning, “So my precious darling is hungry, huh? Cute and silly for my cock?”

“Mhm,” bottom lip rolling up, wetly.

Half smug, half dazed. “Then it’d be cruel of me not to keep you fed.”

Deeper you push your mouth around him, until he’s twitching in your throat and you start to gag. Sanji’s thumb finds your cheek—please don’t do anything you don’t want to. But you wouldn’t stop. You cannot stop. Not when you get to hear the whimpers he makes as your lips press around the skin ever so slightly, when you look up at his heaving chest, his parted lips, pushing out a broken exhale, the eyes that now flood with wavering reflections of the moonlight and tears threatening to wet his lashes.

“Oh, my angel.” It’s coarse, struggling for air. His eyes shut close. “My sun, my everything. Yeah, like that. So fucking good.”

Hands coated in spit, you reach to give his balls a gentle squeeze, continue to fill your throat. Once praises have started to spill from Sanji’s mouth, they don’t stop, and they touch a point at which the words feel like no more than babbling, trashed and incoherent, with his hair blown in both of his eyes. His hand sometimes runs to his forehead, other times he uses it to caress your face and pet your hair, but no matter what Sanji stays loud in letting you know how good whatever you’re doing to him feels.

The moment he sets both of his hands on your head, you know it’s because he’s getting close. With a fearful thrust of his cock into your mouth a growl leaves him, and soon after his second release spills down your throat, warm, somehow sweet. You swallow; his chest expands and contracts in attempt to catch his breath.

Specks of light dash off Sanji’s lips. Pulling you at his level, he clashes them against yours into yet another kiss, sloppy and greedy as he runs his hand down your curves, sinks his fingers into your skin. The touch sears everywhere it reaches; and you cannot do anything but melt in his arms, let yourself be moulded by this growing need that somehow can never quite satiate you.

“Hope you don’t think you won’t be rewarded for that,” Sanji breathes into your mouth.

Your lips rolling to his jaw, you say, “Hope you don’t think I’ve had enough of you.”

“I’m here for you to take,” with a quivering hand Sanji squeezes your pussy. “Will always be.”

His fingers send a delightful shock throughout your body. Something close to a moan tears from your throat. “You're such a whore for me, Sanji.”

“Can you blame me?” Sanji rubs his tip against your inner thigh. “Darling, please look at yourself.”

“For the love of god—” wet and breathless against his ear. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Your impatience endears him, has his heart beating so much faster than it already does. Still he starts slowly, pushing you onto the pillows, taking his time to relish your expression as he lifts your legs and lovingly sets them atop his shoulders. Sanji almost laughs at himself, because even under the influence of this potion that brings out anything wild and viscerally troublesome he has in him, nothing delights him more than getting to unravel you with the same care one deseeds a pomegranate in the kitchen.

Placing a kiss on your calf, he croons, “Say, sweetheart, what about you? Who do you crave for just so?”

Not wasting a beat, “You, Sanji.” It’s you.

He could get off by these words alone.

“And what do you want from me?” he starts to coat himself in your slick, pressing the tip on your clit every now and then. “Do you want me to fuck you, maybe? Fill you up and call you beautiful?”

You can only nod, legs coiling around his neck in anticipation. “Yeah, yeah. Please fuck me.”

Then you can feel him burying himself into you, and it rips a sound from your mouth as soon as he does. Your hips lift to increase the friction. You accommodate him easily, trembling under him and through the persistent knot in your stomach that has you wanting for more.

When he bottoms out, his voice is low, hypnotic. “Like this?”

“Like this,” you echo, drowning yourself in the wild glimmer flaring in his eyes.

Fingers dug into your legs, his temples sweaty, Sanji pulls out, then drops himself back in, each motion steadier than the other. Wet sounds fill the sheets as your bodies coil and flatten together like nothing matters in this world but you and this moment and the moon capturing your contours in ethereal glow. Nothing, no one. Sanji speeds his hips, chest flushed and sweltering. Usually you’re not as permissive with your sounds as he is, but tonight they seem to just pour themselves out of your mouth, every sigh and moan and whimper, sugar waterfalls thickening the air as Sanji moves you into each thrust.

“Ah,” you hear him say, a man aflame. “Refresh my memory, would you, angel? Who did you want to fuck again?”

Through an exhale, “You—” a pause. “Only you.”

“You feel so good,” he whines, collapses with a slapping sound. “So sweet, so perfect for me.”

Blue and pink and yellow; just as vivid when you close your eyes. He goes in deep, deeper, and your thighs are shivering against his torso.

��Yeah? You like that?” legs tightening their grip around him. “Like it when I take you good and confess?”

“More than that,” Sanji is breathless. “Makes me insane. You’re making me go insane.”

You wouldn’t admit it, but you know how it feels. To have your sanity run scarce by a voice telling you how faultless you are, that no matter how you see yourself you will always be a cosmos in someone else’s eyes. If anything, you should know this better than anyone else, the maddening feeling of being fed honey and sugar glaze as your thoughts are pressed against body heat. Lost in his trance Sanji picks up the pace, and there’s a wet, debauched mewl that overrides even the careless crash of your skins.

Lip caught under your teeth, “Want to, mh—wanna hear another confession, baby?”

“What’s on your mind, my sweet?” Sanji’s lips ghost over your calf.

“Think I—” with a thrust your eyes are hurled to the ceiling. “Fuck, I think I love you.”

Vulnerable.

Suddenly his chest drops against yours, a chance for your legs to flatten across his back, pulling him the closest you can. His fingers interlace with yours as he sinks into the crook of your neck.

Reckless.

The pace doesn’t slow down, but you can very well tell it’s become sloppier than before. A lost rhythm. When you look at him again, you are quick to notice the dampness pushing at the corners of his eyes.

“I love you too,” glad to finally word it this way. “I love you so much.”

Then he continues to rut into you, shaky voice fogging your neck the moment your nails pierce into his back. Your hips thrust themselves up, desperate for tandem. Heat erupts inside you. Another peak you’re yearning to chase.

“‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna come,” you tell him, cheek brushing over his hair.

“Let go, my dear,” in a frail tone. “Let me hear you.”

With a squeeze of your hand Sanji fucks you the way you need him to—viciously.

He could try. He could at least try to make you fall so hard for him that you will keep your words even after the spell wears off.

You pull at his hair, mean and senseless as a sudden burst of pleasure tears through you. Your lips move without being able to hear the words. There must’ve been something you said, though, you’re sure there was, because Sanji’s soon chasing after, hung on a mournful vowel, flooding you through his end.

The moon soaks into your bodies.

iv.

Sanji wakes up with tinnitus. He blinks, once, twice, waiting for the specks of colour before his eyes to rearrange into furniture. The next thing he recognises is your breathing, small and lukewarm on his chest. Instinctively his arms wrap themselves around you, and there’s a long exhale when they do. You’re naked, both of you. His head becomes heavy with flashes of last night, lips pressed together, bending sternum, and soon they are replaced with the sound of a name he thought he couldn’t remember. Sentiments he thought he discarded.

He thought he would lose you.

But you are still here.

Before knowing it, his arms are shaking, and like he’s done many times when he finds it impossible to contain himself, he covers his eyes with an elbow.

He starts crying.

Muffled, subtle, more worried about waking you up than about having to figure out an excuse for his tears. Droplets roll off his cheeks and onto his collarbone. His chest jerks up and down in a pathetic staccato. He wishes he were someone with more control over his emotions, sometimes, during moments like this. But he isn’t, and he cannot change, just like he cannot be many other things.

A soft rustle beneath the sheets. Arms squeezing his torso.

“Sanji, hey.” The words come out rasp, still filled with sleep. When he doesn’t answer, there’s a thumb wiping across his cheek. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m sorry,” is all he can manage.

Warmly, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry,” he hiccups again. “I’m so sorry.”

Because he doubted you. Because he cannot fucking stop doubting himself. Heaven knows he’d tell you all these things, were he a braver man. Instead there’s only one thing that seems to be coming out of him, a broken record.

“I’m sorry.”

You wouldn’t want to pressure him. Without saying anything else you keep Sanji in your arms, squeeze him tighter as his tears blend with your hair and your fingers move to soothe his frantic shoulders. Salt pours on his bottom lip. Sanji accepts the comfort despite his better judgement, burying his face into your neck, trying to focus on the sound of your breathing. You stay like this for a while.

There are so many things he’d want to tell you; the kind of things that eat through his guts and tear him apart. Silly images of him taking you to the Baratie, teaching you the way around potions, topping your hand as you sign your name in blood and knowledge, are you to feel rebellious enough.

And he will, one day; talk to you about everything he’s ever seen and touched. Now, however, he closes his eyes and hopes you will somehow catch a flicker of all the love he has in him; everything that makes him foolish.

by far the longest thing i've written in years & it's a boring au. now excuse me but i need to go lie down for a while.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece smut #sanji smut #mdni #spooktober 2024

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pareidoliaonthemove · 20 days ago

Text

What Are Little Girls Made Of

“How far to the lifesigns, Thunderbird Five?”

Virgil stopped the rest behind the ‘mini-Mole’, as he waited for his older brother to respond.

“About twenty meters, Two. You need to veer five degrees right, and one degree down. That will have you breaking through their air pocket at the corner diagonally opposite from their position.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five. Five degrees right one, one degree down. Moving out.”

Virgil keyed in the course change on his wrist controller, and activated the mini-Mole. With a high pitched squeal, the small ROV again started drilling into the concrete and rebar of the collapsed building. It captured all the detritus, mixed it with a quick setting binding agent, and extruded it against the ‘walls’ of its tunnel, ensuring that the resulting space wasn’t going to collapse immediately behind it.

Virgil eyed his wrist controller as he crawled after the machine. Time was still of the essence in this type of rescue. They hadn’t been able to ascertain exactly why the commercial complex had collapsed, and that made Virgil very unhappy.

In front of him, the mini-Mole chirruped, slowed its pace and drill, and pulled forward to show a hole in the ‘wall’ facing a void. Virgil activated his passive line to John, then crawled up to the entryway and cautiously poked his head through. “International Rescue. Is anybody here?”

Stupid question, he knew there were two human life-signs in this space, but the enquiry served multiple purposes. Firstly, it identified him, and stopped anyone from trying to brain him with a rock – it had happened. Trapped people panicked, and if they had fears about running out of oxygen, another person in ‘their’ space, breathing ‘their’ air was a threat that had to be ‘dealt’ with.

Secondly, it told him if the lifesigns were conscious. No conscious victim could resist responding to the magic words...

“International Rescue!”

And there it was. One of the two lifesigns was currently bouncing towards him, a little girl about seven years of age, rushing across the space, her pigtails streaming behind her, pink ribbons fluttering. Virgil watched carefully as he crawled into the space. She was moving freely, despite concrete dust liberally coating her body, and bloody red grazes on the sides of legs and palms of her hand. Her dress, once a pink frilly layered affair was now torn and lank.

She must have felt like a princess when she left her home this morning.

The little girl grabbed his hand and started trying to drag him back with her to the far corner. “You have to come, Mummy’s stuck! She can’t get out!”

“Judy! Calm.” The voice was laced with pain but firm and calming. Two conscious resucees. That was good.

Judy stopped her insistent dragging, but didn’t let go of Virgil’s hand. “Please, Mister International Rescue. My Mummy is stuck. Can you help her get out?”

Virgil smiled, it was a practised smile, confident and calm. “That’s why I’m here. Now, where is your mummy, and what is her name?”

A deep breath. “My Mummy’s name is Jennifer Robson. My name is Judy Robson. Mummy is over in that corner,” she pointed. “And her legs are caught under the roof. Mine were, too,” she added, “but I’m little so I managed to wiggle my way out. Mummy can’t.”

“Thank you, Judy. You’ve been very brave, and very helpful. Can you keep helping me by staying here, while I go and see what’s got your mummy stuck?”

A determined nod, but her fear was betrayed by small teeth gnawing at her lower lip and bright water gathering in her eyes.

Virgil smiled again, and lowered himself down beside her mother. “Mrs Robson?” he asked, it never hurt to check names with parents. Judy had spoken clearly, but a misunderstood name at a rescue site could have consequences later.

The woman smiled up at him from where she lay on her left side. “That’s right, please call me Jenny. It’ll save time.” A glance at her daughter. “It’s a bit more complicated than just being stuck. I think something’s gone through my left leg.” A frown. “My right leg is lying in front of the left, and I can move it freely, but…”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. I understand.” He pulled a device from the satchel he had been dragging under his chest, clipped to his harness. “This is a snake,” he showed Mrs Robson. “I’m going to slide it behind you, and it’ll let me see what’s holding you in place. Then I can come up with a plan to get you out.”

“That would be appreciated,” Jenny smiled.

Virgil eased his way behind her, and activated the snake, sending it slipping down next to her back, and relaying what it ‘saw’ to a little 2D screen on the control box.

He frowned at what he saw. A piece of rebar – entirely too thin for what it was presumably doing, he noted absently – had been freed from it encasing concrete, and had stabbed through Jenny’s left calf. He sent the snake bobbing down, to examine beneath.

They were in luck, the rebar had only just broken the skin, and hadn’t pinned her to the slab below. One cut, a slight jacking of the slab above her, and Jenny could be pulled out.

He informed Jenny as much, and then paused. Judy was sitting cross legged where he had left her, her apparent calm betrayed by the clean furrows tear tracks had carved down the concrete dust coating her face. He couldn’t send the little girl up the tunnel on her own, there were too many side branches that had been carved to reach other victims of the collapse. He couldn’t take her himself, and leave Jenny alone. And they really couldn’t afford the time to have one of his brothers come down and collect Judy, but she was still only young, and he didn’t really want her to see the state her mother was in.

Jenny saw where he was looking, and smiled. “If you’re worried about upsetting her with blood, you shouldn’t. Your biggest problem will be keeping her out of the way to wrap up a wound. Little girls come in two flavours, precious princesses who kick up and fuss at the mere mention of the word ‘blood’, or perfect little ghouls, who delight in it, and must be shown any wound the instant they learn of it.” She raised her voice so her daughter could hear. “Judy wants to be a doctor when she grows up, she is very interested in first aid and how to treat injuries. Judy the Ghoul, we call her.”

Judy perked up. “Oh, does Mummy need first aid? Can I help? I know how to apply bandages! Please, can I help? I’ll be super helpful!”

Virgil glanced at her mother, who was all but laughing at his confusion. “Judy, tell Mister International Rescue how you treat someone with a stab wound.”

“First, never ever ever take the object out of the wound. Take a bandage, and make doughnut, like this,” she held up both hands to make an ‘O’ shape, “slide it over the foreign object, and then wrap other bandages around it to keep in place.”

Virgil nodded approvingly. “Very good. That’s absolutely correct. First I’m going to have to get your mom out, and then we can do the first aid together, okay?”

A determined nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Okay, then, let’s get cracking.” He turned to his satchel, and pulled out a jack, setting it up, again behind Jenny, and then pulling out a version of Mini-MAX. This one programmed for exactly this kind of scenario, and kitted out with a miniature version of his shoulder mounted laser.

Virgil always had trepidations about ‘his’ Mini-MAX. It had taken Brains a lot of trial and error to tone down MAX’s natural enthusiasm. That coupled with a high powered laser had had … interesting results. International Rescue’s high energy equipment testing protocols and test chamber had both needed serious overhauling.

As was his habit, Virgil held his breath as Mini-MAX attached the heat absorbing shield, and activated his laser. But the little robot did his job perfectly, flying back out to his ‘travel’ case, leaving Jenny with a half-inch of rebar sticking out of her leg.

Virgil again held his breath as the jack slowly, so slowly, eased upwards just enough for him to slide Jenny out without jostling the rebar, and, once she was clear, slowly easing the slab back down to its original position.

As Virgil turned his attention to his charge’s injury, he found the little girl, kneeling beside her mother, her face mere inches from the ground, as she examined the injury with a bright-eyed intensity that made him just a little bit uneasy.

Gently pulling the girl, back he helped her sterilise her hands, and they both made a ‘doughnut’ out of bandages, and while Judy held them in place, Virgil started the binding bandage. He then turned to give Jenny painkillers, while keeping an eye on Judy as she completed the binding.

Quickly assembling the hover stretcher from its folded up state in his satchel, Virgil explained his evacuation plan to his patient and ‘assistant’. Jenny was soon installed on the stretcher, and strapped firmly in place, while Judy was more loosely strapped to her right side, so she could ‘monitor’ her mother on their trip to the surface.

Bringing the mini-Mole around to face back up its tunnel, Virgil tethered the hover stretcher to its back, and sent the Mole, the stretcher and its occupants trundling back towards freedom. Quickly packing up his remaining equipment, Virgil started crawling after the Mole, quietly confirming with John the condition of his rescuees and confirming that there was appropriate resources waiting for them top side, and that there was no-one else to pull from the wreckage of the building.

The trip back up passed quicker than had the one down, with Judy chatting happily to her mother, and then relaying regular ‘updates’ back to Virgil. The dying rays of sunlight bathing the scenery in reds and golds seemed unnaturally bright to Virgil as he crawled out of the hole, accepting Gordon and Scott’s help to stand upright again, and pull off his helmet. His back cracking as he straightened, but he bit back the groan as he twisted. That was just a bit too ‘old man’.

Ambulance crews, already briefed by John as to Jenny’s condition, and treatment already provided, had shifted her from the IR stretcher to their own gurney, and Judy was standing, watching intently as they took her vital signs, and unworriedly alternating between talking over, and talking to the little girl.

A woman, dressed in the ambulance’s uniform, drew Jenny away, and briefly examined the grazes on her legs and hands, and Virgil was briefly concerned that he had missed something in his haste to free the mother. But as the woman realised Virgil was watching, she offered a smile, and a thumbs up; and Virgil relaxed.

Beside him, Gordon nudged his arm, pressed an object into Virgil’s hand. It was one of the buttons Virgil had had made up, a test run of item he wanted to propose to Scott for distribution to kids at Danger Zone. A small button with a pin back. In the centre was the IR logo, an around it, in – naturally – Thunderbird Two Green was the words “I Was Brave For International Rescue”.

Virgil frowned at Gordon. These weren’t supposed to be here, but Gordon just nodded to Judy. “She’s earned it. Scott’s busy, go on, Virg.”

Virgil walked over, and knelt down beside Judy. “I wanted to thank you, Judy. You were very brave and very helpful back there.” He held up the button to her. “You’ve earned this. Can I pin it to your dress?”

Judy’s eyes went wide as she saw the button, and she nodded. Virgil reached forward, and very carefully pinned it to the dress, probably a bit high, it was near her collarbone. But Judy stared down at it a moment, before launching herself at Virgil and nearly strangling him with a hug. “Thank you, Mister International Rescue. Thank you for helping me and my Mummy.”

Virgil cautiously returned the hug, “Thank you, Judy.” A shout from the nearby ambulance had Judy’s caretaker gently pulling her away from Virgil and leading her away. Judy bounded as she went, pigtails streaming behind her. Back to her mother.

Twenty Years Later

Virgil lay back, watching the flickering pattern of light tiles rush past over his head. Whatever drugs they had given him on the way to the hospital were working a treat, what had been a fiery burning pain was now a dull throb, annoying but he could live with it.

A new body joined the lineup alongside his gurney, and Virgil turned his attention to the newcomer. A woman, about thirty, her long dark hair was caught in a plait, a pink ribbon incongruously woven into the braid, and formed the tie, candy pink scrubs that stuck out like a beacon amid the soft blues and teals.

A photo ID card at the end of the lanyard bounced about as she ran, and Virgil couldn’t make out then name, but recognised from the colour stripe along the right edge that the woman was an Emergency Department Trauma Surgeon. Attached to the lanyard, near her collarbone, was a pin, and Virgil strained to see it. He frowned, and reached up a hand to tug on the lanyard so he could get a closer look at the pin.

A IR blue clad arm reached about and caught his hand. “Hey, Virg, no grabbing. Hands to yourself, even when drugged, bro.”

There was a laugh, and the woman pulled off the lanyard one handed, and held the pin for his inspection. It was an old button, faded from exposure to light, but Virgil instantly recognised it. Scott had quickly forbidden them when he had found out, but the IR logo in the centre, and the words, “I Was Brave For International Rescue” ran around the edge in Thunderbird Two Green was unmistakable.

A name came to him, an image of a cement dust covered little girl in torn pink dress and pigtails, peering in fascination at the rebar piercing her mother’s leg. “Judy the Ghoul,” he said, voice slurring.

Above him, Judy – Doctor Judy – laughed. “That’s me. I’m honoured you remembered me.”

Virgil lay back and closed his eyes. “Never forgot. Little girls are ghouls. Important lesson t’ learn.” He opened his eyes. “My little girls are even worse. Had’ta keep infirmary locked. Was tryin’ to play ‘doctor’.”

She laughed again, turning her attention to his lower body. Virgil really didn’t want to know what she was seeing. Feeling what had happened was bad enough. A thought. “Did y’ Mum keep th’ leg?”

“No,” was the absent reply. “Sepsis infection at the hospital meant she lost her leg, at the knee. She has a prosthesis; reckons it’s the best thing that ever happened to her. Says it reduced her footache by fifty percent.”

She turned back to Virgil. “But I’m afraid we’ll not be reducing your footache, Mr Tracy. But if you can be very brave and helpful, we’ll have you back rescuing little girls from collapsed buildings in no time.”

Virgil smiled, as half of the people surrounding him, including his brother, fell away, and he was propelled through double doors into the gleaming sterility of a surgical theater. “I look forward to it.”

Notes:

I have five nieces, aged between ten and two. Any bandages or bandaids must be immediately removed for them to inspect the damage. Ghouls. The lot of them. Unless it’s their blood!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the TOS or CGI Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#fanfic #my fanfic #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #collapsed building #first aid #amputation

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aikoiya · 1 year ago

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LoZ - Hyrulean Cultural Aesthetics

Important to note, Hylians, Sheikah, Gerudo, & Lupáns are all considered human.

Those with pointed ears are referred to as Cuspan & those without are called Ovelian.

Overall Cultural Influences:

Central Hyrule & Hylians specifically = Medieval Germanic & Arthurian English with some variation depending on location. All Hylian towns will likely have a little bit of this in them.

Ovelians = Rural, small town, down home, farmer, tough as nails, survivor, rough around the edges, traditional, conservative, but still rebellious, & generally very good-hearted. That means they are the rednecks, the cowboys, the military men, the American Southerners, the Vikings, & the Celts kind of characters. You're salt of the earth types. At least in feel, though not necessarily in culture. It's because of this that humans generally get along well with Gorons. Either way, humans stick mostly to the agricultural & ranching settlements for the most part.

Zora = Hard to tell as they generally don't wear clothing, but they do wear a lot of jewelry. If I had to give them clothes, I'd definitely say they'd be something flowy. Possibly Roman or Greek in fashion to go with the water theme? As for sensibilities, maybe a bit of French Rococo. I also get the impression that the Zora's Domain is actually divided into 2 levels: the Upper Domain & the Lower Domain. The Upper Domain is what we see in the games & consists of the commercial district & palace. The Lower Domain is entirely underwater & is where the Zora actually live. The reason we don't see it is because Link can't dive.

Rito = Northern Native American. Aldean specifically. Maybe a bit of Latin American.

Goron = A mix of Maori (Polynesian), African, Dwarven, & maybe a bit of Old West mining town, though it's hard to tell for certain as they generally don't wear clothing. At the same time, their general architecture seems to have a Town of Bedrock-type feel to it. Definitely something with a decent source of friendly machismo (not what is considered "toxic masculinity;" actual machismo). Something masculine & tribal, but also community oriented & friendly.

Gerudo = Egyptian/Middle Eastern Amazons with some Orc influence. Possibly with some hints of Hindu too. At least as far as fashion goes.

Korok/Kokiri = If Peter Pan & the Lost Boys were Hobbits.

Twili = Possibly Scandanavian? Also Chinese with some Japanese influences.

Mogma = They seem to be Brooklyn-ish. Maybe even a bit of an Italian-American Mob feel, but more so in the "friendly gangster" way. So, I'm seeing some Bensonhurst influences, which is a specifically Italian-American borough within Brooklyn, I believe. Maybe even a bit of New York Jewish? Like, they come across as being Italian mafia adjacent, but only in so much as the accent, the attitude, & family-oriented organization. Sort of an "it takes a village" & "we take care of our own" type of mentality. Not in any way actually mafia though & certainly not in the romanticized view of gangsters as I don't actually see the Mogmas being the types to actually commit crimes on the reg. And despite being avid treasure-hunters, they seem to have a general culture of altruistic generosity. By that, I mean that their love language is gift-giving.

Yeti = Norse Viking.

Minish = Borrowers.

Anouki = Inuit.

Lokomo = Possibly Greek?

Zonai = Mesoamerican.

*Búralupán = Gaelic, Celtic, & Nordic. (This is a race I made up, if you wanna know more, go to Wolf Link & the Lupán Race.)

Smaller Settlements:

Hateno = I'm getting Gaelic Scottish farming town. Also maybe a bit of Spain, Italy, & Greece. Mostly inhabited by humans, both Cuspan & Ovelian.

Kakariko = Japanese with maybe a touch of American Old West. While primarily Japanese, there's also some definite South Korean influences. Especially in their cooking.

Mabe = Rustic dairy ranching town vibes because I'm putting Lon Lon Ranch there. Based on how AoC & LA's Mabe was designed, their roofing is colorful terracotta tile & generally has ivy & such growing on their homes, so maybe Colonial Spanish. Mostly inhabited by humans.

Goponga = I'm getting rural Luisiana Bayou vibes, most likely due to it being located in a swamp. So, primarily Cajun, French, & Colonial Spanish with some Zora inspiration maybe. Mostly inhabited by humans & Zora.

Deya = Not sure yet, but I'm giving them a vineyard, peach orchard, & making them use them to make moscato, so maybe an old Tuscany winery & fishing village? Mostly inhabited by humans. From what we see in the games, it was actually the biggest settlement in Hyrule besides Castle Town, so it could've been a full-on town or city.

Ordon = Has a rural ranching feel & might be inspired by a southern agricultural town in Italy called Ordona. So, maybe rural Italy with American South mannerisms & sensibilities. Culturally, though, I get Gaelic Irish vibes. It might be the smials… Also, maybe a little bit of Welsh too. Either way, it's mostly inhabited by Ovelians & Lupáns (more Ovelian than Lupáns) with the occasional Hylian, Sheikah, & 1 or 2 Gerudo. (For more of their overall culture, go to Ordonian Culture & Ordon Cooking Culture.)

Lurelin = Rural Hawaiian fishing village. Maybe a little bit of Caribbean & Okinawan? With a little bit of Mesoamerican mixed in due to Zonai influence from the nearby ruins.

Ealiyah = Tibetan-flavored Gerudo farming & brewing town. Maybe a little bit of Russian & hints of Norse too? Also, interior decoration is eclectic & cluttered but cozy & colorful in a vibrant, rustic Bohemian sort of way. There are also some influences from humans, including Ovelians, Hylians, Lupàns, & even Sheikah to a degree as several of each race lives there too (all men), but overall, the culture remains mostly that Tibetan-Gerudo sort of style. They do a lot of weaving & sewing as well as dying. (This is a town I made up, for more on its culture & history, go to Ealiyah Town & the Highlands Gerudo.)

- Hànmalàn Hamlet = A small majority Upper Middle Eastern/Southeast Asian-flavored Gerudo settlement in the Faron Jungle with some Lurelinites & a number of Sheikah living there as well. Located in Damel Forest.

Tabantha Village = Norse with Rito, Yeti, & Lupán inspiration. So, old Norse Viking, Aldean, Celtic, & Gaelic with a Russian & Welsh accent. They use a lot of furs in their clothing. Mostly inhabited by Ovelians, Hylians, Rito, Yeti, & Lupán.

Shadow Hamlet = Dwarven possibly, with Goron inspiration. So, very masculine. Maybe a bit of Old Western Mining Town. A mix of Gorons, Hylians, & Ovelians tend to live here.

Koholint Domain = This is on the Koholina Archipelago, which Eventide Island is the smallest island of & will eventually become a fishing & port town. In-world, it has influence from Zora, Rito, & Lurelin. But, from a real world perspective, it's mostly Polynesian, coastal Native American, & coastal Hindu with some ancient coastal Greco-Roman (even Atlantis-like) influence for the underwater sections of the settlement. As well as in their formal fashion. There would likely be a tiny bit of Carribean & Okinawan influence in there too. The population is made up of Euryhaline Zora (able to survive in both salt & fresh water), Coastal Rito, & Lurelin humans. And, much like with how I think the Zora's Domain is built, the settlement's commercial district is on land, while the Zora residential area is underwater. The Rito & human residences, as well as the Cheiftain's home, are also on land. (For more on the specifics of this, go to Euryhaline Zora & Coastal Rito Port Town.)

Gatepost, Outpost, & East Post = These are all a package deal. These are mostly military towns, so that'll definitely factor in. They are positioned in such a way as to protect Oldcastle. Mostly inhabited by Hyrulean Humans, but with smatterings of the other races too.

Oldcastle = The site of OoT's Castle Town, a.k.a. the Great Plateau, so there'll be some DEEP historical significance going on. As such, it's mostly Medieval Germanic & Arthurian English. Mostly inhabited by Hyrulean Humans.

LoZ Cultural Masterlist

#loz #legend of zelda #hyrulean #hyrulean culture #hyrule #zora #goron #hylian #sheikah #gerudo #rito #ordon

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jimi-rawlings · 2 months ago

Text

ROCKSTAR TUTELARY DEITY

Spirit: Jimi Hendrix

Call me Jimi Rawlings and Let me Swag out the Brand through Nike Collabs

Jimi Hendrix as Ancestral Deity with Visual-Spatial and Kinaesthetic Spiritual Genome Editing

TONY GWYNN HITTING

He was less concerned with getting a hit in a particular at-bat and was more focused with being comfortable at the plate, having a fluid swing, and making solid contact. Over the course of the season, he figured it would result in success.[34]

Gwynn was hard-working and known for his work ethic and devotion to extra batting practice.[3][13][185][197] On the road, he stayed in his hotel room, studying video of his at-bats or playing video games.[68][198]

In the first 12 years of his MLB career, Gwynn used a 32½-inch, 31-ounce bat. In his final eight years, he employed a 33-inch, 30½-ounce bat.[d][11][29] Gwynn wanted his wooden bats light like his aluminum ones in college. Instead of having the barrel of his bats shaved, as many batters do, he had them "cupped", with the end of the barrel hollowed out like the bottom of a wine bottle.[176]

MODERN DAY KANSAS CITY MONARCHS AT METRODOME (BLACK MAFIA)

Season Ticket Holders

What it is: Sports tourism is a type of tourism activity which refers to the travel experience of the tourist who either observes as a spectator or actively participates in a sporting event generally involving commercial and non-commercial activities of a competitive nature.

Baserunning Sabermetrics and Sportsbooks

Weaver's style of managing was summed up in the quote: "pitching, defense, and the three-run homer."

UZR Prospect: Jimi Rawlings

Ultimate Zone Rating (UZR)

Definition

UZR quantifies a player's entire defensive performance by attempting to measure how many runs a defender saved. It takes into account errors, range, outfield arm and double-play ability. It differs slightly from DRS (Defensive Runs Saved) in its formula, but the concept is the same.

Traditional Baseball Training: Gymnastics Rings and Landmine Circuit Training; Sledgehammer Training; Kettlebell Hip Isometric-Mobility; Léger Model with French Contrast Training for 60m Jamaican Sprint Training

Nike White Home Jersey matches Ball and Turf Sneakers with Astro Turf Bullpen Foul Line Dead Ball Era Entertainment District/Maritime Stadiums.

I am on Elite Models; I am running London Fashion Week through Burberry.

I use Ghostwriters and YouTube Freestyle DJs instead of Rap Crew.

Off Season Science Experiments through Baseball Kids Show.

Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills for Astrodome Ballparks

Kansas City Barbeque Society is a competitive cooking organization based in Kansas City, Missouri, famous for Kansas City BBQ. It is the largest competitive barbecue organization in the world, with more than 15,000 members.[1] It was founded in 1985 by Carolyn and Gary Wells and Rick Welch. Their desire was to put together a local group for competitive barbecue. It has since grown and provides oversight to hundreds of competitions.

3 Run Home Run, No Errors, and 5 Holding Relievers, 5 Openers, & 3 Closers.

Batting Line Up WITH Pitchers: BUNT P-5; Top 4 is 3 Run Home Run and Bottom 4 is Slap Baseball.

Defense: C, SS, 2B RF are Slap Baseball and 1B, 3B, CF, LF are 3 Run Home Run. NO DOUBLES WITH CORNER IF/OF; RANGE UZR WITH CF, SS, 2B

DYNAMIC HITTING AREA BATTING TEE UMBRELLA

Mechanics then Drill — Jimi Rawlings

Exit Zone Cage (Shorter Roof Cage Soft Toss)

Wiffle Ball (Free Swing)

Creep Drill (115 MPH with 60.6 Inches)

MY UZR: PUTOUTS; BASERUNNING/ARM VALUE

A Statcast metric designed to use data to evaluate the performance of baserunners and outfielders in taking or preventing extra bases.

BATTING SPIRIT: PRINCE FIELDER

Toe Tap with Sidearm Top Hand and Bottom Hand Bat Lag Manipulated Release with Over Shoulder Ferris Wheel Diamond Strike Zone with + Slice & Hook Visual Aids

INFIELD SPIRIT: ERNIE BANKS

1B One Hoppers for SS One Handed-Fielding

OUTFIELD TRIO SPIRIT: ANDREW MCCUTCHEN; TONY GWYNN; AND RICKY HENDERSON

Bat Lag with Manipulated Release 34 Inch 32 Ounce Wine Cup Maple Bat; Running Back to Full Back age 20-30/30-40

Drive Phase with Head First Slide or Closing Speed Catch

Toe-Tap-Flamingo Strike Count Indicator Swings

EXECUTIVE SPIRIT: RUBE FOSTER, BUCK LEONARD, FERGIE JENKINS, AND WILLIE MAYS

Feeder Club Gentertrification Union Depot Metro;

Grassroots; Prep School; for Metrodome

Investor Invite 20 Per Game Wine Course Meal Red Wine-Lamb with Spices-Herbs and Cheesy Potatoes; Smoked Meat Kansas City BBQ/Subs Ghost Kitchen Course Meal Reference Appetizers Kebab, Cleansing Salad Coleslaw; Entrée Lamb Creamy Cheesy Spice/Herbs Savory Potatoes; Banana Desserts; Ballpark Bagel/Coffee Pistachio/Strawberry/Banana Bakery; Rube Foster developed a style of play that emphasized speed, bunting, place hitting, power pitching, and defense. As a manager and team owner, Foster was a disciplinarian. He asserted control over every aspect of the game, and set a high standard for personal conduct, appearance, and professionalism among his players. In 1920, Foster, Taylor, and the owners of six other midwestern (Rural Area) clubs met in the spring to form a professional baseball circuit for African-American teams; Focus on Outfield and Pitching (Andrew McCutchen or Doc Gooden); CB based HR Derby; Negro League Museum Jazz Society Union OPS% w/ XB and Bunt% (TB + Bunt In Play) as a Lead Off Hitter Trixie-Parlay; Runs Completed% (Total Bases ÷ Runs); Options Trading Derivative Turf Arithmetic Accounting TOTAL BASES, =, and % (Pythagorean Theorem); Wood Bleachers with Astro Turf 400FT CF & 60,000 Capacity; 3 Inning Saves

Great Lakes Region LLWS; KC OT to Chicago: The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum (NLBM) is a privately funded museum dedicated to preserving the history of Negro league baseball in America. It was founded in 1990 in Kansas City, Missouri, in the historic 18th & Vine District, the hub of African-American cultural activity in Kansas City during the first half of the 20th century. The NLBM shares its building with the American Jazz Museum. Outfield Hats Oversized No TV Dives; Sol White's History of Colored Baseball with Other Documents on the Early Black Game, 1886-1936; The Pays d'en Haut (French: [pɛ.i dɑ̃ o]; Upper Country) was a territory of New France covering the regions of North America located west of Montreal. The vast territory included most of the Great Lakes region, expanding west and south over time into the North American continent as the French had explored.

ALEJANDRO POMPEZ AND SOL WHITE NEGRO LEAGUE MUSEUM JAZZ SOCIETY UNION

uzr for modern all star negro leagues

Jean-Claude Traoré CF; Jazz Chisolm 2B; Javier Báez SS

draft kings youtube highlights

A + B (OPS% w/ XB) = C Bunt% (TB + Bunt In Play) as a Lead Off Hitter Trixie-Parlay; Runs Completed% (Total Bases ÷ Runs); Options Trading Derivative Turf Arithmetic Accounting A + B (UZR%) = C (TOTAL BASES) (Pythagorean Theorem); TB with Baserunning/Throwing Value UZR is Frame

GOLD HEDGING RESEARCH

Executive MBA

Kellogg offers an Executive MBA program designed for senior and mid-career executives. Executives can choose between two campuses, Evanston and Miami, and also two schedules, one weekend a month or two weekends a month.

IFÁ Cluster Jewelry: IFÁ mean Divination System through Orunmila Santería/Yoruba Orisha

Amber as a Hedge

STARBUCKS & SEPHORA COFFEE RIGHTS

Ethiopia and Oxfam America urged Starbucks to sign a licensing agreement with Ethiopia to help boost prices paid to farmers. At issue was Starbucks' use of Ethiopia's famed coffee brands—Guji, Sidamo, Yirgacheffe and Harar—that generate high margins for Starbucks and cost consumers a premium, yet generated very low prices to Ethiopian farmers. Cappuccino (/ˌkæpʊˈtʃiːnoʊ/ ⓘ, Italian: [kapputˈtʃiːno]; from German Kapuziner)[1] is an espresso-based coffee drink that is traditionally prepared with steamed milk including a layer of milk foam.[2] Variations of the drink involve the use of cream instead of milk, using non-dairy milk substitutes and flavoring with cocoa powder (in Europe and Australasia) or cinnamon (in the United States).[3][4] It is typically smaller in volume than that of a latte, and topped with a thick layer of foam rather than being made with microfoam.[5]

A liqueur coffee is a caffeinated alcoholic drink that consists of a shot of liqueur, mixed with coffee. It is typically served in a liqueur glass, often accompanied with cream and sugar. Coffee liqueur beverages are served in different fashions and can be found throughout many countries. One of the most popular liqueur coffee beverage is commonly known as Irish coffee.[1] Liqueur coffee beverages are largely classified as cocktails as well as digestifs which are aimed at aiding the digestive process typically after a meal.

Coffee is well known as a cosmetic ingredient, particularly due to the presence of phenolic compounds, such as chlorogenic acids, and caffeine. Caffeine is widely used in cosmetic formulations due to its photoprotector and anti-aging properties, as well as lipolytic action in cellulitis, and hair regrowth.

SHOP GLD IMAGE RIGHTS

Subsistence Factory/Metallurgy for Industrial City-Rural Areas State; Chefs; Farmers; Blacksmith Trade School; Let me sell Baseball Jerseys through GLD SHOP Exhibitions at the High School Level. I will find swag guys to wear my clothing. It's an UNOFFICIAL GAME at the Wrigley Field… I will Brand Activation my Consumers with HS Home Run Derby's in Pro Fields; Rap Video Directors and Jewelry Leasing. Mining REITs; 51% Equity; Quarterly Gross Revenue Rent; Cash Conversion Cycle: Accessories, Tattoos and Car Decals, Med Spa, Salon, Apparel

Gold: OTC Risk Management Solutions for Gold, Silver, Platinum, Palladium and Rhodium

Futures Options and Clearing for CME traded precious metals contracts

OTC Averaging Swaps

LBMA Fixing Averaging Forwards

Precious Metals Inventory Financing

Precious Metals Leasing and Deposits

Doré Financing

Transportation and custody/storage of physical products

HOME DEPOT REAL ESTATE AGENT IMAGE RIGHTS

The Home Depot, Inc. is an American multinational home improvement retail corporation that sells tools, construction products, appliances, and services, including fuel and transportation rentals. Home Depot is the largest home improvement retailer in the United States.[4] In 2021, the company had 490,600 employees and more than $151 billion in revenue. The company is headquartered in unincorporated Cobb County, Georgia, with an Atlanta mailing address.[citation needed]

Real Estate Intrinsic Value Think Tank; Solar Panel Real Estate Investment Group

TD BANK — BOUTIQUE HOTEL IMAGE RIGHTS

The Hu. Hotel[2][3] is a luxury boutique hotel in Downtown Memphis, Tennessee, United States, located in the historic former Tennessee Trust Bank building.

TD Bank, N.A. is an American national bank and the United States subsidiary of the multinational TD Bank Group. It operates primarily across the East Coast, in 15 U.S. states and Washington, D.C. TD Bank is the seventh-largest U.S. bank by deposits and the 10th largest bank in the United States by total assets, resulting from a series of several mergers and acquisitions. TD Bank, N.A. is headquartered in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, an inner suburb eight miles (13 km) outside Philadelphia. TD Bank is a federally chartered bank, thus its trading name bears "N.A." letters. TD Ballpark, originally Dunedin Stadium at Grant Field, is a baseball field located in Dunedin, Florida. The stadium was built in 1990 and holds 8,500 people. It is the spring training home of the Toronto Blue Jays, as well as home to the Dunedin Blue Jays of the Florida State League and the Dunedin High School Falcons baseball team. The stadium has also been known as Knology Park (2004–2008) and Florida Auto Exchange Stadium (2010–2017).

Take a Declining Bank and Renovate it to a Boutique Hotel for an Enterprise Foundation.

FARMLAND PARTNERS IMAGE RIGHTS

This includes Real Estate Private Equity (REPE), Real Estate Investment Management, Real Estate Investment Trusts (REITs), and Real Estate Brokerage.

REIGs Homestead Rental Properties

In the most basic terms, a real estate investment company invests clients' assets in real estate and provides them with profits on those investments in exchange for a fee. Typically, this is the well-known approach of renovating completely and then reselling for a profit.

Rural economics is the study of rural economies. Rural economies include both agricultural and non-agricultural industries, so rural economics has broader concerns than agricultural economics which focus more on food systems.[1] Rural development[2] and finance[3] attempt to solve larger challenges within rural economics. These economic issues are often connected to the migration from rural areas due to lack of economic activities[4] and rural poverty. Some interventions have been very successful in some parts of the world, with rural electrification and rural tourism providing anchors for transforming economies in some rural areas. These challenges often create rural-urban income disparities.[5] Rural spaces add new challenges for economic analysis that require an understanding of economic geography: for example understanding of size and spatial distribution of production and household units and interregional trade,[6] land use,[7] and how low population density effects government policies as to development, investment, regulation, and transportation.[8]

A commercial economy is an economic system characterized by the exchange of goods and services, often driven by trade and market forces, rather than subsistence agriculture.

REIGs Edge City Slum

An edge city is a concentration of business, shopping, and entertainment outside a traditional downtown or central business district, in what had previously been a suburban, residential or rural area. The term was popularized by the 1991 book Edge City: Life on the New Frontier by Joel Garreau, who established its current meaning while working as a reporter for The Washington Post. Garreau argues that the edge city has become the standard form of urban growth worldwide, representing a 20th-century urban form unlike that of the 19th-century central downtown. Other terms for these areas include suburban activity centers, megacenters, and suburban business districts.[1] These districts have now developed in many countries. Urban economics is broadly the economic study of urban areas; as such, it involves using the tools of economics to analyze urban issues such as crime, education, public transit, housing, and local government finance. More specifically, it is a branch of microeconomics that studies the urban spatial structure and the location of households and firms (Quigley 2008).

AMTRAK BEDROOM MONTREAL-GREAT LAKES IMAGE RIGHTS

Bedrooms

If you’d like a bit more space on your journey, try booking a bedroom for your next trip with us. Each bedroom has the capacity of two adults (with an option for a third), one to two suitcases and are 6’6” x 7’6”. Unlike roomettes, our bedrooms also have an in-room toilet, shower and a sofa that converts to a bed. Travelers looking to stretch out and upgrade from our roomette should explore our bedroom option.

Other Amenities Include:

Everything in the roomette plus…

An Armchair

An even bigger landscape window

Private sink and vanity

Toilet and shower

Spiritual Baptist

THEOLOGY: Sun Principality Divination LEFT HANDED-PATH PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE CROWN CRISTA ANCHOR VESSEL INVOCATION

SUNSET ANGELS (SUN EVENING STAR)

Human Form: Premier-Chargé d'affaires and Executive Branch Communist Working Class Athletes

Hedonic Sun Lightning Angels

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun, Uranus-Saturn Moon, Mercury Rising)

Hedonic Paradox Liberal Arts: Science and Arts (Nutritional BioChemistry and Gastronomy-Culinary Linguistics); (Bioaesthetics and Modelling)

Hedonic Birth: Prenatal Hormones Vitamins with Fetus Alcohol Consumption for Sensory Overload Asperger's

Hedonic Economic Geography (Church): Peninsula Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster

Hedonic Animals: Lammas & Alpacas

Hedonic Chef: Wine Dinner Fixed Course Meal: Kebab Hors-d'oeuvres, Apple Sweet Mayo Coleslaw Palate Cleansing Salad, Steamed Mollusk or Smoked Meat Entrée, Apple; Strawberry; Banana Dessert

Hedonic Pricing Primate City: It has transformed people's lives from agriculture to businesses linked to tourism, significantly raised the standard of living, and helped reduce the economic divide between urban and rural zones (Su, 2011; Zeng & Ryan, 2012).

Value theory is the systematic study of values. Also called axiology, it examines the nature, sources, and types of values. As a branch of philosophy, it has interdisciplinary applications in fields such as economics, sociology, anthropology, and psychology.

The term originates in ethical philosophy, where axiological or value hedonism is the claim that pleasure is the sole form of intrinsic value,[3][4][5] while normative or ethical hedonism claims that pursuing pleasure and avoiding pain for oneself or others are the ultimate expressions of ethical good.[1] Applied to well-being or what is good for someone, it is the thesis that pleasure and suffering are the only components of well-being.[6]

Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that human behavior is psychologically determined by desires to increase pleasure and to decrease pain.[3][1]

Hedonic pricing is a model that identifies price factors according to the premise that price is determined both by internal characteristics of the good being sold and external factors affecting it.

SUN CHURCH PRACTICE

The Nicene Creed (/ˈnaɪsiːn/; Koinē Greek: Σύμβολον τῆς Νικαίας, romanized: Sýmvolon tis Nikéas), also called the Creed of Constantinople,[1] is the defining statement of belief of Nicene Christianity[2][3] and in those Christian denominations that adhere to it. Although Constantine lived much of his life as a pagan and later as a catechumen, he began to favour Christianity beginning in 312, finally becoming a Christian and being baptised by Eusebius of Nicomedia, an Arian bishop, although the Catholic Church and the Coptic Orthodox Church maintain that he was baptised by Pope Sylvester I. He played an influential role in the proclamation of the Edict of Milan in 313, which declared tolerance for Christianity in the Roman Empire. He convoked the First Council of Nicaea in 325 which produced the statement of Christian belief known as the Nicene Creed. In the Roman Catholic Church, to obtain the plenary indulgence once a day, it is necessary to visit a church or oratory to which the indulgence is attached and the recitation of the Sunday prayers, Creed and Hail Mary.[82] Recitation of the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is required to obtain a partial indulgence.[83] Tithe; noun; one tenth of annual produce or earnings, formerly taken as a tax for the support of the Church and clergy.

The Council of Trent issued key statements and clarifications of the Church's doctrine and teachings, including scripture, the biblical canon, sacred tradition, original sin, justification, salvation, the sacraments, the Mass, and the veneration of saints[4] and also issued condemnations of what it defined to be heresies committed by proponents of Protestantism. The consequences of the council were also significant with regard to the Church's liturgy and censorship.

Language Arts (Religious Swear Words and Sicanje) Igbo Vowel Harmony and Yoruba Religious Term Ori, Ase, and Ifà with Roman Alphabet.

Geopolitical Religiopolitical Economic Geography Westminster System Liberal Arts for Mirror for Princes

Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Prince.

Contract Theory with Business Clusters (Retail and Supplier)

Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills

Subsistence Farming with Options/FX Hedging

Tribal Prince of Lozi Sol

PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE

SUNSET

The great chain of being is a hierarchical structure of all matter and life, thought by medieval Christianity to have been decreed by God. The chain begins with God and descends through angels, humans, animals and plants to minerals.[1][2][3]

SUNSET CROWN TUTELARY TO PRINCIPALITY; PRIMER CHARGÉ D'AFFAIRES TO PRIMATE CITY PRINCES; LION; AMBER; OPIUM- SASSAFRAS-TOBACCO; IFÁ CLUSTERS AND GOLD MINTING; G MAJOR OR SOL, A MUSICAL KEY; DEFLATED GOLD STANDARD WITH COMMODITY ECONOMIC TABLE EXCHANGE; ROMAN GLYPH

BIRTH NATAL CHART THROUGH OCCULT PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE

Men MLB

Mars-Sun (Mars sol)

Saturn-Jupiter-Uranus (Capricornus)

Mercury-Moon (Canis Minor)

Girl

Moon-Sun (Leo Minor)

Mercury-Venus-Mars-Pluto (Scorpius)

Saturn-Uranus-Jupiter (Capricornus)

SUN CROWN CRISTA ANCHOR VESSEL INVOCATION HORCRUXES

Humanity: Humans uniquely share spiritual attributes with God and the angels above them, Love and language, and physical attributes with the animals below them, like having material bodies that experienced emotions and sensations such as lust and pain, and physical needs such as hunger and thirst.[3]

The Planetary Intelligences are invoked in occultism to control the blind forces of the planetary spirit, specifically in the creation of astrological talismans.[4]

Sunset Crown: Theocracy is a form of autocracy[2] in which one or more deities are recognized as supreme ruling authorities, giving divine guidance to human intermediaries who manage the government's daily affairs.[3][4] Priest-king (ensi), assisted by a council of elders including both men and women.[51] (Asė)

Palm Fond Laurel Wreath: UZR Prospects/Eco Warrior (Mars Sol Canis Minor)

Midnight Crown (Sun, Jupiter, Pluto, Lust and Inccubus)

Nuit Blanche Crown (Sensory Processing Sensitivity-Expansive Mood Canis Minor with Sun)

SAINT

Thomas Aquinas OP (/əˈkwaɪnəs/ ⓘ ə-KWY-nəs; Italian: Tommaso d'Aquino, lit. 'Thomas of Aquino'; c. 1225 – 7 March 1274) was an Italian[6] Dominican friar and priest, an influential philosopher and theologian, and a jurist in the tradition of scholasticism. He was from the county of Aquino in the Kingdom of Sicily.

GEMINI TWIN

Nzambi a Mpungu (also Nzambi and Nzambi Mpungu) is the Supreme God, eternal Sky Father and God of the Sun (fire) in traditional Kongo spirituality.[1] His female counterpart is Nzambici, the Sky Mother and Goddess of the Moon. Among other Central African Bantu peoples, such as the Chokwe, and in the Kingdom of Ndongo, Nzambi Mpungu was also called Kalunga, the god of fire and change. This may have a connection to an element of Bakongo cosmology called Kalûnga. It was seen as the spark of fire that begot all life in the universe.[1] After Portuguese colonization, Nzambi Mpungu became synonymous with the Christian God and existed chiefly as the Creator God.[2]

Roman equivalent Jupiter • Sol

HEDONIC SUN LIGHTNING ANGELS

Hedonic Shamanism: Crista Wing Transfer in Urban Setting

Hedonic Hell: Material religion is a framework used by scholars of religion to examine the interaction between religion and material culture. It focuses on the place of objects, images, spaces, and buildings in religious communities.

Hedonic Keystone Community: HAŠK Mladost (Mladost, lit. "Youth") is an academic kinaesthetic society from Zagreb, Croatia, sponsored by the University of Zagreb. Clubs named Mladost exist in Painting Polar, Culinary, Construction, Ag/FX Simulators, athletics, field hockey, judo, basketball, bowling on ice and asphalt, fencing, volleyball, swimming, rugby, synchronised swimming, skiing, ice-hockey, ice skating, table tennis, archery, chess, tennis, water polo and rowing

Hedonic Human Form: Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Angel Prince.

Hedonic Acting: Red Collar (Freeport Smuggling and Canvas Robbery) with Conflict Minerals for Screenplay and Quarterly Budgeting for Painting Polar (Tuxön Polâr)

Hedonic Husbandry: Coffee (Mıxology, Olfactory Arts, and Sephora)

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Constellation (Sun Sun, Mercury Moon, Uranus-Saturn Rising)

Hedonic Paradox Liberal Arts: Science and Arts (Nutritional BioChemistry and Gastronomy-Culinary Linguistics); (Bioaesthetics and Modelling)

Hedonic Birth: Prenatal Hormones Vitamins with Fetus Alcohol Consumption for Sensory Overload Asperger's

Hedonic Economic Geography (Church): Peninsula Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster

Hedonic Animals: Sheep (Rambouillet, Lacaune, Texel) and Lammas & Alpacas

Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that human behavior is psychologically determined by desires to increase pleasure and to decrease pain.[3][1]

Hedonic pricing is a model that identifies price factors according to the premise that price is determined both by internal characteristics of the good being sold and external factors affecting it.

IFÁ

Sunset Crown Wing Transfer Asė

Possessive invocation may be attempted singly or, as is often the case in Wicca, in pairs - with one person doing the invocation (reciting the liturgy or prayers and acting as anchor), and the other person being invoked (allowing themselves to become a vessel for the spirit or deity).

Automatic writing, also called psychography, is a claimed psychic ability allowing a person to produce written words without consciously writing. Practitioners engage in automatic writing by holding a writing instrument and allowing alleged spirits to manipulate the practitioner's hand.

SOL ANGELS: HELL EVENING STAR SUN MATERIAL WORLD SUNSET ANGELS CLAN SOLAR CROWN DEITIES (SUN PRINCIPALITY)

In a later extended sense in intertestamental Jewish literature, the abyss was the underworld, either the abode of the dead (Sheol) or eventually the realm of the rebellious spirits (fallen angels) (Hell). In the latter sense, specifically, the abyss was often seen as a prison for demons.

In this example, the adept must surrender all, including the guidance of his Holy Guardian Angel, and leap into the Abyss.

A tutelary (/ˈtjuːtəlɛri/; also tutelar) is a deity or a spirit who is a guardian, patron, or protector of a particular place, geographic feature, person, lineage, nation, culture, or occupation. The etymology of "tutelary" expresses the concept of safety and thus of guardianship. A radiant or radiate crown, also known as a solar crown, sun crown, Eastern crown, or tyrant's crown, is a crown, wreath, diadem, or other headgear symbolizing the Sun or more generally powers associated with the Sun. Apart from the Ancient Egyptian form of a disc between two horns, it is shaped with a number of narrowing bands going outwards from the wearer's head, to represent the rays of the Sun. These may be represented either as flat, on the same plane as the circlet of the crown, or rising at right angles to it.

Thomism is the philosophical and theological school which arose as a legacy of the work and thought of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), the Dominican philosopher, theologian, and Doctor of the Church.

Augustine of Hippo, who converted from Manichaeism to Christianity, criticised the Manichaeans for polytheism and paganism, stating that Manichaeans, due to their dualistic cosmology, believe in two different deities. The Manichaean bishop Faustus of Mileve defends Manichaeism by stating that Catholics erroneously assume that the Prince of Darkness had a divine essence, while in fact, the Prince of Darkness does not share any attributes with the Divine, thus Manichaeism would not worship multiple gods, but rather one true god.[2] They are both two different principles: although eternally existing, clearly distinct. Only the light particles within humans are consubstantial to the Divine.

SAINTS

Augustine of Hippo (/ɔːˈɡʌstɪn/ aw-GUST-in, US also /ˈɔːɡəstiːn/ AW-gə-steen;[22] Latin: Aurelius Augustinus Hipponensis; 13 November 354 – 28 August 430),[23] also known as Saint Augustine, was a theologian and philosopher of Berber origin and the bishop of Hippo Regius in Numidia, Roman North Africa. His writings influenced the development of Western philosophy and Western Christianity, and he is viewed as one of the most important Church Fathers of the Latin Church in the Patristic Period. His many important works include The City of God, On Christian Doctrine, and Confessions.

Thomas Aquinas OP (/əˈkwaɪnəs/ ⓘ ə-KWY-nəs; Italian: Tommaso d'Aquino, lit. 'Thomas of Aquino'; c. 1225 – 7 March 1274) was an Italian[6] Dominican friar and priest, the foremost Scholastic thinker[7], as well one of the most influential philosophers and theologians in the Western tradition.[8] He was from the county of Aquino in the Kingdom of Sicily.

THE ARABA, CHIEF PRIEST OF IFA: "YORUBA RELIGION AT THE CROSSROADS”

Ifarinwale Ogundiran ("The Araba")

The Araba is the Chief Priest of Ifa, a traditional Yoruba religion, of the town of Modakeke, Nigeria. He has worked with scholars from American and European universities conducting research on his life and Yoruba religions. The visit incorporated dance and drum performance of various orisa rhythms, and a discussion of the Yoruba religion's inclusive cosmology and the challenges it faces in the increasingly exclusive religious landscape of contemporary Nigeria.

BABALAWOS

Babalawos are key custodians of the Ifa system, preserving and transmitting Yoruba cultural heritage through oral tradition, rituals, and ceremonies. This system provides a framework for understanding morality, human relationships, and the world at large. As spiritual leaders and diviners, Babalawos offer guidance to individuals and communities by employing the Ifa divination process, addressing various aspects of life such as health, relationships, and career choices.

The Babalawos are believed to ascertain the future of their clients through communication with Ifá. This is done through the interpretation of either the patterns of the divining chain known as Opele, or the sacred palm nuts called Ikin, on the traditionally wooden divination tray called Opon Ifá. In addition to this, some of them also perform divination services on behalf of the kings and paramount chiefs of the Yoruba people. These figures, holders of chieftaincy titles like Araba and Oluwo Ifa in their own right, are members of the recognised aristocracies of the various Yoruba traditional states.

ASĖ

Brother DNA

ORI

Intercessory Prayer with a Conscious Vessel and KABBA NICENE as Religious Identity

In the Roman Catholic Church, to obtain the plenary indulgence once a day, it is necessary to visit a church or oratory to which the indulgence is attached and the recitation of the Sunday prayers, Creed and Hail Mary.[82] Recitation of the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is required to obtain a partial indulgence.[83]

KABBALISTIC TEXT

The Zohar (Hebrew: זֹהַר‎, Zōhar, lit. "Splendor" or "Radiance"[a]) is a foundational work of Kabbalistic literature.[1] It is a group of books including commentary on the mystical aspects of the Torah (the five books of Moses) and scriptural interpretations as well as material on mysticism, mythical cosmogony, and mystical psychology. The Zohar contains discussions of the nature of God, the origin and structure of the universe, the nature of souls, redemption, the relationship of ego[citation needed] to darkness and "true self" to "the light of God".

The godhood self sought by left-hand path followers is represented by the qliphah Thaumiel in the Tree of Knowledge.[4]

In the Zohar, Lurianic Kabbalah, and Hermetic Qabalah, the qlippoth (Hebrew: קְלִיפּוֹת, romanized: qəlīppōṯ, originally Jewish Babylonian Aramaic: קְלִיפִּין, romanized: qəlīppīn, plural of קְלִפָּה qəlīppā; literally "peels", "shells", or "husks"), are the representation of evil or impure spiritual forces in Jewish mysticism, the opposites of the Sefirot.[1][2] The realm of evil is called Sitra Achra (Jewish Babylonian Aramaic: סִטְרָא אַחְרָא, romanized: sīṭrāʾ ʾaḥrāʾ, lit. 'The Other Side') in Kabbalistic texts.

Regardie and Crowley

According to Aleister Crowley, the three evil forms (before Samael), are said to be Qemetial, Belial, and Othiel.[15]

Crowley (who calls them "Orders of Qliphoth")[16] and Israel Regardie[17] list the qlippoth and their associated sephiroth on the tree of life as:

Thaumiel, associated with Kether

Ghogiel, associated with Chokmah

Satariel, associated with Binah

Agshekeloh, associated with Chesed

Golohab, associated with Geburah

Tagiriron, associated with Tiphareth

Gharab Tzerek, associated with Netzach

Samael, associated with Hod

Gamaliel, associated with Yesod

Lilith, associated with Malkuth.

The Kabbalistic angels, also known as the Angels of the Shem HaMephorash, are 72 celestial spirits whose names are derived from the 72-fold name of the Hebrew god as found in the Book of Exodus.

TUTELARY DEITY

A radiant or radiate crown, also known as a solar crown, sun crown, Eastern crown, or tyrant's crown, is a crown, wreath, diadem, or other headgear symbolizing the Sun or more generally powers associated with the Sun.

DIASPORA

Odinani, also known as Odinala, Omenala, Odinana, and Omenana[1] (Igbo: Ọdịnanị/Ọ̀dị̀nàlà), is the traditional cultural belief and practice of the Igbo people of south east Nigeria.[2] These terms, as used here in the Igbo language, are synonymous with the traditional Igbo "religious system" which was not considered separate from the social norms of ancient or traditional Igbo societies. Theocratic in nature, spirituality played a huge role in their everyday lives. Although it has largely been syncretised with Catholicism, the indigenous belief system remains in strong effect among the rural, village and diaspora populations of the Igbo. (Nigerian ASĖ; Chicago and Ethiopia)

JEWS I PROTECT

Proponents of the Kenite hypothesis explain this inconsistency as a preserved implication that the cult of Yahweh said to have been created by Moses had a known pre-history. Further indirect support for the Kenites being the true bearers of the Yahwistic faith is taken from the positive portrayal of Kenites in the rest of the Tanakh. Kenites and some groups closely associated with them appear to have been known as fervid devotees of their god Yahweh, even during times when Yahweh's own chosen people, the Israelites, had at large abandoned his worship.

🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸

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pigeonflavouredcake · 2 years ago

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I'm procrastinating my grimoire section on baneful magic so I wrote about salt instead

Salt is another incredibly common tool used by practitioners, second only to candles. Salt is often referred to as a pure element by practitioners due to the harvesting process. This makes salt the basis for many spells and rituals, using it to cleanse vessels, represent earth or given as offerings. Because it doesn’t go off or get mouldy it is a great tool to have in your arsenal.

Types of Salt

Black Salt: There are two types of black salt, witches black salt; a mixture made by the practitioner using their choice of salt and ash from coal or incense, this type of salt is inedible and is an option for banishment spells and baneful magic. The other type is kala namak or Himalayan black salt; a kind of rock salt with a dark red/purple hue harvested in northern India and Pakistan around the Himalayas. Kala namak is composed of sodium chloride, iron sulphide which gives the product its purple colour and hydrogen sulphide which gives it its strong smell and savoury taste. (Krishna, K. 2021)

In cooking, kala namak can be used to replace regular table salt. The hydrogen sulphide can result in an eggy flavour so it is best used sparingly in savoury dishes. You can find it online or from Asian food or health food markets.

Pink Salt: Pink salt or Himalayan salt is a type of rock salt mined in Pakistan near the foothills of the Himalayas. It gets its pink colour from the trace minerals of potassium, magnesium and calcium. Like regular table salt, pink salt contains 98% sodium, because the additional trace minerals are so small there are no proven health benefits to using pink salt over table salt. (Leonard, J. 2018.)

In cooking, pink salt can be used in replacement for regular table salt but due to the larger surface area of the granule compared to table salt granules I recommend using slightly less than required. Pink salt typically has a stronger flavour with a slight metallic after taste. It is often used in love spells because of its pink colour. You can find it in your local supermarket in the 'continental' section.

Red Salt: Red salt, also called Alaea salt or Hawaiian red salt, is a bright red and unrefined sea salt rich in iron oxide it gets from being rolled in alaea clay found in the Waimea mountains of Hawai'i. Alaea salt is used in traditional Hawaiian practices for blessings, purifying and healing, the religious/spiritual use of Alaea salt is exclusive to Hawaiian culture. Because Alaea salt doesn’t meet U.S food grade requirements it is not commercially sold. (University of Hawai’i)

Rock Salt: Rock salt (not edible) is typically produced through blast or drill mining; the process is done in stages, first a cut is made in the face of the rock to allow space for drilling and blasting, the next stage, holes are drilled into the face that are then filled with explosives and fired. After the blast the resulting roof is scaled to remove any potential loose debris. The fragments of salt are then hauled on to trucks to be transported to a crushing plant. When they are crushed they’re mixed with anticaking agent to prevent the salt from recrystallizing, it is then stored and shipped. (Irish Salt Mining)

The salt produced is not safe for consumption and is instead used to grit and de-ice surfaces in the winter, it can also be used for grounding and protective spells like sprinkling it at your front door. You can find it in your local supermarket or hardware store under rock salt, road salt or de-icing salt.

Sea Salt: Sea salt is the name given to salt harvested from sea water via evaporation. Depending on the climate of the company’s farm, the evaporation process can either be man made or entirely solar based, sea water is collected, filtered for impurities and left under a heat source to reduce the water level and saturate the brine, the brine is then moved to be crystalised where more heat is applied, as salt crystals star forming, they’re harvest and separated, some are then processed with an anticaking agent before being packed and shipped, some are left alone. (Cornish Sea salt Co.)

Sea salt production has been around since the 5th Century BC, being mentioned in the Buddhist scripture, Vinaya Pitaka. (Prakash, O. 2005. p 479)

The religious use of sea salt varies widely depending on the culture but in general neo-pagan practices sea salt is often given as an offering to the gods. In cooking, sea salt and table salt can be used interchangeably as they have the same nutritional value.

Table Salt: Table salt is your standard refined salt that is typically mined. Table salt production requires turning salt from chunks, to flakes and then finally to granules followed by anti-caking agent to prevent it from recrystallizing.

The standard use in cooking is to reduce the sweetness of dishes, salt also helps create a stronger flavour by decreasing the water content as you cook, concentrating the flavour.

Everything is great in moderation so take care of how much salt you consume on a regular basis. The NHS suggests adults should be eating no more than 6g (1 teaspoon) of salt per day, a diet high in salt correlates to high blood pressure and increases risks of heart disease and strokes. (NHS. 2021)

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References

Cornish Seasalt Co. (DNA). How is Sea Salt Made?. Cornish Seasalt Co. cornishseasalt.co.uk [Webpage]

Irish Salt Mining & Exploration Company LTD. (DNA). Process. Irish Salt Mining & Exploration Company LTD. irishsaltmining.com [Webpage]

Krishna, K. (2021). Kala Namak/Black Salt: How It Is Made, Nutritional Values, Benefits for Health, Skin and Recipes. NetMeds. Netmeds.com [Webpage]

Leonard, J. Olsen, N. (2018). Does Pink Himalayan Salt Have any Health Benefits?. Medical News Today. medicalnewstoday.com [Web Article]

NHS. (2021). Salt: The Facts. nhs.co.uk [Webpage]

Prakash, O. (2005). Cultural History of India: Food and Drinks (800 B.C. to 300 B.C.). New Age International. India [Book]

University of Hawai’i. (DNA). Exploring our Fluid Earth. Teaching Science as Inquiry: Traditional ways of Knowing: Salt Harvesting. University of Hawai’i. manoa.hawaii.edu [Webpage]

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rabbitcruiser · 9 months ago

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World Seagrass Day

World Seagrass Day is celebrated annually on March 1 to raise awareness about seagrass and its important functions in the marine ecosystem. It was declared by the United Nations General Assembly on May 22, 2022, following a resolution passed by Sri Lanka to emphasize the conservation of seagrass in marine environments. Seagrass is a flowering marine plant present along coastlines worldwide, acting as a crucial source of food for marine life and helping stabilize water quality.

History of World Seagrass Day

Seagrass serves an important role in maintaining the marine ecosystem. Except for Antarctica, various types of seagrass are found on coastlines around the world. From the common eelgrass, shoal grass, star grass, and the like, seagrass provides an important source of food for marine life. It also supplies crucial environmental, social, and economic benefits.

Seagrass evolved around 100 million years ago when most plant life was still found underwater. Over the course of its evolution, it has adapted to living and reproducing in various marine environments, bending and swaying with currents and dispersing its pollen through the water.

Fish, turtles, manatees, plankton, and even sharks get their sustenance from seagrass, among other things. Seagrass also acts as nursery habitats for commercially harvested fish and helps improve the water quality of the environment it inhabits. There are currently 72 recorded types of seagrass in the world, covering an area of around 300,000 square kilometers in 159 countries.

Seagrass sediments contain between 4,200 and 8,400 Tg of organic carbon, which is nearly twice the amount of carbon per area compared with land soil. With the advent and ongoing process of climate change, seagrass’ role as a carbon deposit is much more crucial today, to help sustain sea life and its ecosystem. For one, it stores up to 18% of the world’s oceanic carbon, which is greater than the percentage stored by rainforests. This function makes it a key influence in battling the effects of climate change.

As with most marine resources, seagrass is currently under threat by human activity. A United Nations report stated that up to 7% of seagrass marine habitats are being wiped out worldwide every year; this is equivalent to a football field of seagrass lost every 30 minutes.

This emergency compelled the United Nations, following a resolution by Sri Lanka, to declare a formal World Seagrass Day, to raise awareness on preserving and conserving seagrass around the world. The commemoration was formally announced in 2022.

World Seagrass Day timeline

100 Million Years Ago Seagrass’ Evolution Begins

Seagrass begins to evolve from terrestrial plants.

1930s A Disease Ravages

Up to 90% of all eelgrass in temperate North America is wiped out after succumbing to a mold-like disease, causing the extinction of a type of sea snail.

2014 Restoration Efforts Succeed

Around 7.65 million seagrass seeds are planted along the coast of Virginia, U.S., resulting in the growth of up to 6,195 acres in one of the most successful seagrass restoration efforts.

2022 World Seagrass Day is Initiated

The United Nations declares March 1 as World Seagrass Day.

World Seagrass Day FAQs

Where is the largest seagrass plant in the world?

The world’s largest seagrass plant — which is the size of 28,000 football fields — is located in Western Australia.

What is the difference between seagrass and seaweed?

The main difference is that seagrass has roots, stems, and leaves, while seaweed does not. Seagrass is considered a vascular plant, while seaweed is more of a collection of multicellular algae.

What are the most common human uses of seagrass?

Humans use seagrass to fertilize fields, insulate houses, thatch roofs, weave and hold furniture together, fill mattresses and car seats, e.t.c. Additionally, seagrass supports the commercial fishery industry while also helping absorb carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.

How to Observe World Seagrass Day

Read about seagrass

Support seagrass charities

Visit the shore

What better way to learn about seagrass, its role, and its plight than to read a material written by the experts? Read articles, books, and reports by marine scientists, conservation foundations, and similar institutions to broaden your knowledge of seagrass.

Support and/or donate to seagrass conservation efforts worldwide. These include such organizations as Project Seagrass and The Ocean Foundation’s SeaGrass Grow program. Your support makes all the difference.

Travel to the coast and bask in the seagrass-covered waters. Hang out at the beach, swim in the ocean, and see what kinds of seagrass are there. After all, seagrass helps make the view picturesque and natural.

5 Important Facts About Seagrass

Millions depend on seagrass underwater

An effective carbon absorber

The sun gives life to all

The efficacy of seagrass

An emergency situation

Seagrass provides a habitat and food for almost 70% of all sea life, from manatees and sea turtles to shellfish and plankton.

Seagrass is able to absorb carbon up to 35x faster than the Amazon Rainforest.

Like all grassy plants, seagrass needs an ample amount of sunlight to survive, thus making it most visible in sunnier climates and greater depths.

A football field’s worth of seagrass is able to absorb 7,500 miles worth of automobile pollutants and treat sewage from 780 people.

At least 35% of seagrass worldwide has been lost or degraded in the past 40 years, further accentuating the need for conservation.

Why World Seagrass Day is Important

Seagrass keeps the world running

Seagrass is reliable

It spares us the thought of environmental dysfunction

Seagrass plays an important role in maintaining both marine and human ecosystems. Its function as a carbon sink helps absorb carbon particles from the surface and from the sea, which helps improve the quality of the water and lives of those who live around it.

Aside from its environmental benefits, seagrass also contributes to the economy. Businesses that rely on seagrass for their work benefit from its abundance and quality. Fish that are caught in seagrass-rich environments tend to be healthier.

Without seagrass, what would our seas look like? They would be desolate, for sure, which would affect every living thing on the planet.

Source

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lightdmv · 1 month ago

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Permanent Lighting Solutions: Illuminate Your Space All Year Round

Lighting plays a crucial role in the look, feel, and safety of a property. While temporary lighting is common for seasonal decorations or events, permanent lighting solutions offer a long-term, low-maintenance alternative for both residential and commercial properties. These solutions can enhance curb appeal, improve security, and create ambiance, all while minimizing the hassle of setup and takedown.

In this guide, we’ll explore the benefits of permanent lighting solutions, various types available, and how to choose the right system for your needs.

Why Choose Permanent Lighting Solutions?

Permanent lighting systems are installed once and provide year-round illumination for various purposes, from safety to decorative ambiance. Here are a few compelling reasons why more homeowners and business owners are investing in permanent lighting solutions:

1. Enhanced Curb Appeal

Permanent lighting enhances architectural features, highlights landscaping, and illuminates pathways, adding an attractive glow to your property. Well-designed lighting makes a home or business more inviting and can increase its value by improving overall appearance and visibility.

2. Improved Safety and Security

Well-lit properties deter intruders and make it easier to navigate around at night, reducing the risk of accidents. Permanent lighting systems can strategically illuminate areas like driveways, entryways, and pathways, creating a safer environment for residents, employees, and visitors.

3. Low Maintenance and Convenience

Permanent lighting eliminates the need to repeatedly install, remove, or replace lights. With durable and weather-resistant materials, these lights are designed to withstand harsh weather conditions. Many modern systems also come with app-based or remote controls, allowing easy adjustments without physical interaction.

4. Energy Efficiency and Cost Savings

Most permanent lighting solutions use LED technology, which is both energy-efficient and long-lasting. LED lights consume less power, leading to lower utility bills, and they typically last much longer than traditional incandescent bulbs, further saving on replacement costs.

5. Customization and Versatility

From color-changing LEDs to dimmable options, permanent lighting solutions offer flexibility for different occasions and settings. Many systems come with programmable features, so you can adjust lighting for holidays, special events, or daily use with ease.

Types of Permanent Lighting Solutions

Permanent lighting systems come in a variety of styles and setups, each designed to serve specific functions and enhance various aspects of a property. Here are some popular types of permanent lighting solutions:

1. Landscape Lighting

Landscape lighting highlights outdoor features such as trees, shrubs, and garden paths. These systems can create a stunning nightscape by emphasizing key elements of the yard. Options like spotlights, floodlights, and in-ground lights offer flexibility, allowing you to focus on specific areas or create a soft, ambient glow across your garden.

2. Architectural Lighting

Architectural lighting is used to accentuate the structure of a building, drawing attention to features like columns, arches, or facades. With the use of LED spotlights, uplights, and strip lighting, architectural lighting adds a dramatic effect to buildings at night, perfect for creating a sophisticated look for both homes and commercial properties.

3. Pathway and Driveway Lighting

Pathway and driveway lights ensure that walkways and driveways are well-lit, improving safety and accessibility after dark. Low-level lights are commonly used to provide gentle illumination along pathways, stairs, and entranceways, which reduces glare while offering guidance to guests.

4. Under-Eave Lighting

Under-eave lighting, also known as soffit lighting, is installed beneath the eaves of a roof. This lighting type provides soft, even illumination around the perimeter of the building, enhancing security and adding a subtle, stylish glow that highlights the property’s structure.

5. Color-Changing LED Systems

For those who want flexibility in lighting color, color-changing LED systems are an excellent choice. These systems offer a range of colors and can be programmed to display different hues for holidays, events, or just for a change in ambiance. Many color-changing LED systems can be controlled remotely via smartphone apps.

6. Deck and Patio Lighting

Permanent deck and patio lighting allows homeowners to enjoy outdoor spaces well into the evening, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere for gatherings. Lighting options like recessed deck lights, LED string lights, and wall-mounted fixtures add ambiance and make outdoor spaces safer for nighttime use.

7. Smart Lighting Systems

Smart lighting systems are fully programmable and can be controlled remotely through a mobile device or smart home system. These systems allow for easy adjustments, scheduling, and customization, often integrating with other smart home devices for a seamless experience.

Choosing the Right Permanent Lighting Solution

With various options available, choosing the right permanent lighting solution for your property can feel overwhelming. Here are some essential considerations to help you make the best choice:

1. Define Your Lighting Goals

Consider the purpose of your lighting. Are you looking to enhance security, improve aesthetics, or create ambiance? Defining your goals will help narrow down your options and ensure the lighting solution meets your needs.

2. Consider Energy Efficiency

Choose energy-efficient lighting options, like LED fixtures, which consume less electricity and have longer lifespans. LED lights are available in various colors and brightness levels, making them a versatile choice for most permanent lighting needs.

3. Choose Durable, Weather-Resistant Materials

Outdoor lighting solutions must be durable and weather-resistant to withstand different climates and environmental conditions. Look for lights made from corrosion-resistant materials, such as aluminum or stainless steel, and ensure they have an IP (Ingress Protection) rating suitable for outdoor use.

4. Evaluate Smart Features and Automation

If convenience and ease of control are essential to you, consider lighting solutions with smart capabilities. Look for systems that allow remote control, scheduling, and customization. Many smart lighting systems can be integrated with voice-activated devices like Amazon Alexa or Google Assistant.

5. Seek Professional Installation

While some permanent lighting solutions can be installed by homeowners, professional installation is often recommended for complex setups, such as under-eave or architectural lighting. Professional installers ensure the system is properly wired, securely mounted, and aligned for optimal lighting coverage.

Popular Permanent Lighting Brands

When it comes to permanent lighting solutions, several brands are known for quality, durability, and innovative technology. Here are a few popular brands that offer reliable permanent lighting options:

Philips Hue: Known for its smart lighting technology, Philips Hue offers color-changing LED lights and complete home lighting systems that can be controlled via a mobile app.

FX Luminaire: Specializing in landscape and architectural lighting, FX Luminaire provides high-quality LED fixtures designed for durability and sophisticated aesthetics.

Kichler Lighting: Kichler offers a range of outdoor and architectural lighting options, including path lights, deck lights, and landscape lighting systems that add style and safety.

Lutron: Known for its smart lighting systems, Lutron provides dimmable and programmable lighting solutions that integrate with home automation platforms.

Benefits of Permanent Lighting Solutions for Different Settings

Permanent lighting solutions are versatile and can benefit various types of properties. Here’s how they can enhance different settings:

1. Residential Homes

For homeowners, permanent lighting solutions provide safety, curb appeal, and convenience. From pathway lighting that ensures safe movement to deck lighting that extends outdoor enjoyment, permanent lights add value and functionality to residential spaces.

2. Commercial Properties

For businesses, permanent lighting enhances brand visibility, improves security, and creates a professional appearance. Architectural lighting helps showcase the building’s design, while parking lot and pathway lights improve safety for customers and employees alike.

3. Public Spaces

In parks, plazas, and other public areas, permanent lighting solutions enhance visibility and safety for visitors. Pathway lights, for example, can guide pedestrians, while landscape lighting brings an aesthetic element that encourages community interaction and enjoyment.

4. Retail Locations

For retail spaces, permanent lighting plays a role in attracting customers. Illuminated signs, building facades, and parking lot lights make the space more inviting and accessible, while smart lighting controls allow for seasonal or promotional displays.

Conclusion

Permanent lighting solutions offer a convenient and versatile way to enhance safety, aesthetic appeal, and functionality for both residential and commercial properties. With a variety of options available, including landscape lighting, under-eave lighting, and smart LED systems, these solutions provide long-term benefits that eliminate the need for frequent setup or replacement.

By investing in durable, energy-efficient lighting with programmable features, you can create a space that remains beautifully illuminated all year round. Whether for home or business, a well-planned permanent lighting solution not only adds value but also enhances the experience for everyone who uses the space.

#exterior lighting #lighting #permanent lighting #permanent lighting solutions

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thepastisalreadywritten · 2 years ago

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By Rachel Hartigan

Published: 9 March 2023

The history of the first women who flew is a tale of breathtaking bravery and lives cut tragically short.

On 8 March 1910 — 113 years ago today — Raymonde de Laroche, a former Parisian stage actress, became the first licensed female pilot in the world.

Nine years later, she was killed when the experimental aircraft she was flying dove into the ground.

Harriet Quimby, a well-known journalist, became the first American woman to obtain a pilot’s license in 1911.

She died a year later when her new plane pitched her into Boston Harbor.

In 1921, Bessie Coleman was the first Black woman to receive a pilot’s license — she had to travel to France to find a flight school that would teach her.

But five years later, she was killed when a wrench got caught in her plane’s controls, sending the plane plummeting.

Flying was perilous in aviation’s earliest days.

"The planes were flimsy contraptions fashioned from bamboo, wire and fabric,” according to the late historian Eileen Lebow.

They didn’t have seat belts or even a roof to hold the pilot should the aircraft flip over.

Yet women like Laroche, Quimby and Coleman were willing to risk their lives for the freedom that flights promised.

“Aviation was a new profession seemingly free from the gender expectations and sex typing that limited women elsewhere,” noted historian Susan Ware at the National Air and Space Museum’s inaugural Amelia Earhart Lecture in Aviation History in 2022.

“Women were getting in at the beginning.”

For many of them, the thrill of flying was intoxicating but so was the opportunity to be assessed on their own merits.

“These women wanted to be judged as human beings rather than as women,” says Ware.

Coleman especially saw flight as a path toward broader gender and racial equality.

"I knew we had no aviators, neither men nor women, and I knew the Race needed to be represented along this most important line,” she said shortly after she returned to the United States from France in 1921.

“I thought it my duty to risk my life to learn aviating and to encourage flying among men and women of the Race who are so far behind.”

Before she died, she’d planned to open a flight school that would welcome African American aviators.

Many early women fliers shared the dream that achievement in this field would lead to more independence.

As one journalist and amateur pilot wrote in 1930, “A woman who can find fulfillment in the skies will never again need to live her life in some man’s spare moments.”

Some of that independence would come from the ease of travel that aviation promised in its earliest incarnation.

Many people, including Amelia Earhart, believed at first that airplanes would become as commonly owned by families as bicycles and automobiles already had.

Other women embraced the financial independence that they thought the new field would offer.

Neta Snook, whose first solo flight was in a plane she rebuilt, made her living by offering up her plane for aerial advertising, test flying experimental aircraft, taking paying passengers up for aerial tours, and teaching beginning fliers, including Earhart.

Gladys Roy, on the other hand, earned good money as a stunt pilot, dancing the Charleston and playing tennis on the wings midflight for amazed crowds at air shows.

(Snook retired from aviation when she became pregnant in her mid-twenties and lived to be 95; Roy died at 25 when she accidentally stepped into a propeller.)

Sisters Katherine and Marjorie Stinson took a more long-term approach, establishing a flight school in Texas with their mother and brother that trained, among others, Canadian pilots in the run up to World War I.

When the U.S. entered the war, the country’s civil aviation — including the Stinson School for Flying — was shut down.

Katherine went to Europe to serve as an ambulance driver while Marjorie became an aeronautical draftsman for the Navy.

War and the development of commercial aviation conspired to dampen women’s hopes of equality in the air.

Experienced women pilots such as LaRoche and Katherine Stinson volunteered to serve in their countries’ nascent air forces during World War I.

They were denied, the military preferring to train unseasoned men.

The same pattern occurred in World War II, although Women’s Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs) did ferry U.S. military planes as civilian pilots during the conflict.

(The Soviet Union, however, had three female air combat regiments.)

The dream of every family owning a private plane never did materialize; the infrastructure required would have been too extensive.

Instead, the commercial aviation industry developed, hiring men — many of whom had been trained as pilots by the military.

It was no use pointing out, as Earhart did, that "if women had access to the training and equipment men had we could certainly do as well."

Helen Richey became the first female commercial pilot in 1934 but was hounded out of her job.

The U.S. Commerce Department, under pressure from the all-male pilots’ union, decreed that women weren’t allowed to fly scheduled routes in bad weather.

(They’d previously considered “grounding female pilots for nine days a month during menstruation,” according to Ware).

There wouldn’t be another female commercial pilot until 1973, when Emily Howell Warner was hired by Frontier.

#Raymonde de Laroche #Harriet Quimby #Bessie Coleman #Eileen Lebow #Susan Ware #National Air and Space Museum #Amelia Earhart #Neta Snook #Gladys Roy #Katherine and Marjorie Stinson #Women’s Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs)#Helen Richey #Emily Howell Warner #female pilot #International Women's Day #International Women's Month #National Geographic #Nat Geo

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milerhomeimprovement · 2 years ago

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9 Residential Roof Types To Choose From

There are several factors that must be considered while building a new home. You consider the colours of the inside and exterior, the furniture, and your living arrangements. But the roof is something that most people overlook. This element often goes unnoticed because individuals don’t interact with their rooftops on a regular basis.

The ideal roof types should be chosen if you want a lovely and secure property. Different roofing systems have distinctive advantages and aesthetics. Your decision will be influenced by the local climate, your neighbourhood, and, of course, your own preferences.

There are nine types of residential roofs.

1. shingles made of asphalt

2. roofing made of metal

3. Cedar Roof

4. Sheet roofing

5. Clay tile roofing,

6. Solar-powered roofing shingles

7. Copper Roofs

8. Roof Slate

9.Green Roofing

Final Perspectives.

We’ve explored the 9 various types of residential roofs. Are you now able to select your ideal roofing material? Obviously, yes! Analyze factors including your location, HOA, house resale value, and more before making a decision.

Miller’s Home Improvement is available to assist you in making a decision. We offer a wide range of residential roofing services, including excellent roof repairs, tear-offs, and renovation work.

Dial 248–710–0439 to contact Miller’s Home Improvement right away.

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larvasmoon · 10 months ago

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Portrait of the pale elf (5)- He, who is the dagger

Chapter summary : Selene visits Astarion in his manor, finally starting his portrait, but things quickly go downhill as the night unfolds.

Word count : 6,5 k

Trigger Warnings : Blood. Biting (of course). Dry Humping. Inappropriate use of an armour. Mentions of death.

Author's note : This chapter has taken a little bit more time and effort to write than usual. I wanted it to be as perfect as possible because it's a turning point in the relationship between Selene and Astarion. I've written this installment while listening to Sky Ferreira's haunting and gothic song "Downhill Lullaby". I think it perfectly encapsulates the mood I've been trying to set in this chapter.

Thank you so much if you follow this story. It always touches me so deeply when I realize that what I've written has actually reached someone !

As always, here's my AO3 darling

The full moon, wrapped in a coat of misty clouds, shone bright over Selene’s head. It was close to midnight, and she shivered under the hood of her mantle. Her fingers tingled with the cold, numb around the heavy wooden box in which she carried a blank canvas and her folded easel. Slung across her chest was a bundle of brown linen, full with her paintbrushes, paint paddle and charcoal sticks.

She had never ventured in this part of the higher city, a section of Baldur’s Gate where the imposing manors could as well have been called castles. Wherever her eyes landed, the scenery was eerily beautiful, full of dark charms that she naively attributed to the witching hour.

One particular mansion caught her eyes and she stopped in her tracks, thinking to herself that it would make a fine painting decor.

Its high tower seemed to climb high into the celestial sky, the silver glow of the moon pooling on the black tiles of the roof like a soft caress. The rest of the facade was made of a surprisingly dark stone, adorned with the cruel faces of many gargoyles, lurking under the roof’s shadow, or stretching out their clawed hands from the balcony railings. Their toothy grins and penetrating eyes, permanently carved into the onyx like stone, made her so uneasy that she instinctively took a few steps back. Through the sumptuous oriel windows, she could see the flickering of a lit chandelier, illuminating the mouldings of a scarlet ceiling, bleeding red into the night.

She was about to set off once again when she noticed the small metal plate next to the manor’s gates. Selene had to squint her eyes to make out the name of the house, written in Thorass : “ The gothic serenade”.

“ It’s the last mansion of the avenue”, Astarion had said with a wry smile, “ you can’t miss it”.

She chuckled when she noticed that after this one manor, the street took a turn, and a fleet of stairs led back to the wide commercial avenues in which Carmine Red was.

A bit cliché for a vampire’s manor , she mused, I didn’t take Astarion for the predictable type, he’s usually so full of surprises.

The gate was already unlocked. When she softly gave it a push, it silently opened to reveal a small garden full of enchanted red roses, in full bloom even in the cold of winter. As she walked up the winding path, the cold branches of a tall weeping willow grazed her cheek, like a lover’s hand.

The door flew open before she had even reached its steps, and the bright lights inside the house illuminated Astarion’s elegant silhouette.

“There you are. I was expecting you, darling.”

He was wearing a simple white shirt and black breeches, gracefully leaning on the threshold of his humble abode.

It felt strange to hear his voice in the wide open air, outside of the loud spaces of taverns, or the hushed and intimate boutique that was Carmine Red. There, in the obscurity, it sounded electrifying. Its deeper tones made her senses more alert, as if some repressed part of her subconscious was in fact well aware of his true nature.

“I apologise, I’m running late, I got lost in the streets” she sheepishly answered, climbing up the few steps with slightly flushed cheeks.

The vampire helped her inside, taking the heavy box from her hands like it weighed no more than a bag of feathers.

“Oh no need to apologise, dear. I should be thanking you for coming at such a late hour. I hope you’re not too exhausted.”

The inside of his home was decorated in a similar fashion to Carmine Red : the walls and ceilings were painted in a deep burgundy red, the floor was covered in red persian rugs, black lacquered furniture was scattered about the room, and here and there she spotted a few vases filled with dry everlasting flowers.

However, the artist in her couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t a single painting on the high walls of his place.

Not even a boring still-life painting or outfashioned scenery. Nothing.

And while his tailor shop had felt comforting and warm to her, the manor was a paler and colder reflection of it. As if Astarion was barely a passing shadow in those wide spaces. Not even staying long enough for his scent to linger in the air, the way it had last time she’d visited him.

“It’s no problem, I usually don’t sleep a lot anyway” she confessed, gasping when he leaned closer to unclasp her cloak around her neck and slide it off her shoulders.

“Can I offer you something to drink ? A little something to keep you awake through the night ?” he proposed, already treading away into a corner of the living room and rummaging through a cabinet, “I must warn you though, the tea I make is absolutely awful!”

“What would you suggest ?”

Her feet carried her towards a black chest of drawers. On top of it was a set of daggers, displayed on a luxurious ivory stand. The handles were mesmerising, covered in a multitude of expensive stones : rubies, amethysts, sapphires, emeralds and diamonds. They glittered and shimmered in the candlelights, and she wondered how such a magnificent thing could have been made to kill.

So much refinement and beauty, poured into a weapon destined to extinguish life... She couldn’t tell whether it’d be cruel or sweet, to be on the receiving end of its sharpness, and have the glint of gemstones be your last vision before death’s embrace.

“Wine. Red preferably. I have quite the collection.”

Her fingers moved on their own, and she carefully dragged them along the blunt edge of the beautifully curved blades. They were soft and cool to the touch, like their owner’s skin.

In a flash, he’d crossed the room, and was standing right beside her. His slender hands grabbed her own, and strayed her away from the daggers.

“Careful darling, don’t cut yourself”, he spoke through gritting teeth, with a faltering voice she struggled to recognize.

A crack in his sophisticated mask, she thought. She’d grown used to the low purr of his voice, to the dandyish inflection of it, and to the confidence with which he always spoke. This quiet trepidation felt so strange, so out of character, that she was a little bit taken aback.

What if this warning was destined to him, just as much as it was to her ? Did he not trust himself enough to resist the sight of her blood ? A chill ran down her spine at the thought of such implications.

For a few seconds, she pondered whether this was all in fact a very bad idea, being alone in a blood thirsty vampire’s manor, so far into the night that the streets of the higher city were empty. She thought about taking back her things, and her mind raced with all sorts of pitiful excuses she could invent to run back to her apartment, like the coward she’d spent most of her life being.

And yet, she remained silent and still, looking at the beauty of his milky and delicate hands around her stained and unkept painter’s fingers.

She could never be enough of a fool to turn down the unhoped-for opportunity to paint him, no matter how undeserving she felt of it.

Her, the insignificant painter with no name to herself, tainted with things that no amount of water could ever clean. And him, the beautiful beyond reason creature, with skin of alabaster and eyes of molten fire.

“Oh but I didn’t, see ?” she reassured Astarion, turning her hand in his grasp to show the tips of her blackened fingers, permanently sullied by the use of charcoal sticks, “I shouldn’t have touched them without asking though, I’m sorry.”

She tore her eyes away from their intertwined hands, and stared at him for the first time of the evening. His claret eyes were at least two shades darker than usual, even under the bright glow of the lit chandeliers. There was no light in the gaze that he kept eerily fixed on her fingers, and she wondered what kind of thoughts were going through this pretty and dangerous head of his.

She found that she didn’t mind if they were of the bloody kind, if it meant that she could capture his essence and trap it into paint.

“They’re breathtaking. Do they have a story ? I feel like they would, with such an intricate design” she gently inquired again, releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding when he moved away and cleared his throat.

The vampire slowly sauntered back towards the cabinet, filling two goblets with a wine so red it almost looked black when it poured out of the bottle.

“It’s a souvenir from my old glorious days” he sniffed, not without a hint of bitterness, “those blades have seen just as much blood as my hands have, but I’d rather not see them tainted with yours.”

As he talked, Selene found herself dreaming of that version of him she had never seen.

Astarion in armour, fighting an army of relentless enemies.

She imagined that back then, in combat as in the voluptuous atmosphere of a boudoir, each and every one of his movements must’ve been painfully sultry.

An apex predator, moving with the grace of a feline when closing in on an unwitting prey. He’d carve into their flesh with a fervour of a lover, rhythmically and precisely, until they’d come undone. The droplets of blood, spurting all around him, would be like the many rose petals thrown on a stage by the cheering crowd, after the final of his dance macabre.

The thought of him covered in blood did something to her lower belly that she chose to ignore.

No , it’d make a fine painting, nothing more.

When he handed her her glass, she admired his form one last time, and decided it was time for her to do what she’d initially come for.

“So, how would you like for me to paint you, Astarion ?” she abruptly asked, crouching down to unpack her blank canvas.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes settled on her once again, clear and taunting like a cat’s. “Well, in the nude, of course, darling.”

Selene’s hands stilled around the last latch of the box, her mind conjuring obscene and sensual images of him posing on a bed of red silk. He’d have the body of a marble statue, sculptural yet strong. She could almost see the outlines of his muscles under his thin white shirt.

The tip of her pointy ears burnt from how much she was blushing.

She’d done a few nude paintings back when she was still a student. They’d always been done with female models, because Damian foolishly didn’t see fit for a young girl to practise in any other way. As an adolescent, she’d seen countless beautiful women au naturel, tieflings, elves, humans with all shades of hair and skin. She’d spent countless hours painting the round lines of their breasts, the curves of their closed thighs, or the hollow of their barely concealed groins.

She’d drawn a naked man for the first time, much later. Her own lover, the first and only she’d ever had. He was named Lucius, a wood elf that hadn’t stayed in the city long enough to be with her more than a few weeks. Selene had made the best out of it though, now and then sketching his naked body in the crumpled sheets of the bed he’d just made love to her into.

None of this had ever made her blush, but the thought of a very naked Astarion had.

The vampire wheezed beside her, bending down from how much he was laughing.

“I’m teasing you, love. You should’ve seen your face, it was hilarious” he crackled, wiping tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes.

Selene sighed, running her hands through her long hair, and did her best to think about anything but his unclothed body. “No, I mean- is there any particular way you’d like for me to represent you ?”

“You’re the painter, I’ll leave it up to you”, he shrugged, eagerly drinking from his glass, “In whatever room of this house, and in whatever attire, I’m all yours.”

She looked over at the daggers once again, and thought that the only right way to paint him would be with them in hand.

“Do you still have any armour ?” she absent mindedly asked, already rummaging through her supplies, “I’d like to paint you in one of them, if that’s alright with you.”

“I’m sorry but did I offend you with my joke, darling ? Because you’re certainly going for the complete opposite” he huffed, almost offended.

He pointed at his body with wide and agitated movements. “None of this will be visible, and I’m curious to see what it looks like, mind you !”

“It doesn’t have to be anything bulky, or heavy… maybe just something made out of leather ?”

“And here I thought you’d want to paint me in see-through silk, arched or bent in suggestive positions” he mocked, looking at her as though she’d just said the most asinine thing he’d ever heard.

She contemplated explaining to him in great detail the symbolism of him dressed in armour, or the way she thought that, from time to time, he used his beauty as a weapon or a protection of sorts. But, it seemed a bit insensitive to tell this to someone who had felt like they needed to shield themselves from the world in the first place.

So she settled for the more obvious reasons.

“I have something in mind” she softly said, getting up to be at eye level with him once again, “Trust me, you’ll be able to see each and every detail of your appearance.”

Her dark eyes roamed his face and body, picking it apart as if she was already at work.

“Each of your eyelashes, and beauty marks. Each of your silver curls. And each of the elegantly concealed shapes of your body.”

He looked back at her with the same intensity, his burning eyes lowering to stare at her lips each time she uttered a new word.

“But I’m not only painting what I see. A teacher of mine once said that painting a portrait is capturing the essence of one’s soul. And I don’t need you to be naked, or posing in a provocative way for that.”

A strange and pained expression flickered across his face, disappearing as quick as it had appeared.

Selene walked back to the displayed daggers, talking with her back to him. “A dark and foreboding armour on a soft and ethereal body, sharp and dangerous daggers in dainty fingers. I think it is fitting when portraying a being of contradiction like yourself. ”

She heard him follow her, each of his lithe steps on the floorboard, until he was standing right behind her.

“ A being of contradiction ? How so ?” he breathed on her neck, and she shivered.

“ Someone who is beautiful, but equally lethal.”

There was a beat of silence in the room, as she continued to admire the magnificent hilts of the daggers.

“Follow me darling, there’s something I’d like to show you” he finally said, turning away to disappear at the corner of a long and dark corridor.

Much later into the night, Selene finally set her easel into place. It was such a strange feeling to prepare herself to paint at a time she would have usually been curled up in her bed, dreaming strange dreams.

The fear she had grown accustomed to, every time she was about to draw, was nowhere to be seen. She felt unusually calm and content, eager to start painting.

Earlier, Astarion had led her into a small room, filled with tokens of his heroic past : rapiers of every size, pretty vials of poison, heavy crossbows, and mannequins dressed in various combat apparels. She had immediately decided that it was the perfect atmosphere and decor for what she had in mind. There were no chandeliers in there, just one lit candelabra and the glow of the full moon. Its rays entered the room through the open window and illuminated the red armchair in which Astarion would later sit. The small space felt gloomy and intimate, like she’d pictured it should be.

As soon as she had entered the room, she’d spotted a sumptuous armour of leather plates. It was blacker than black, strapped and buckled in different places, adorned with many silver details that glowed in the obscurity.

Astarion had unwillingly accepted to wear it, after a little bit of convincing on Selene’s part. As per her request, he had also replaced the original leather cape of the armour with a scrap piece of red silk he’d kept from a dress he had finished a while ago. He’d carefully attached it to the silver chain that was slung across the mannequin’s chest, before silently slipping away to put the armour on.

When he entered the room once again, Selene was just finishing setting her canvas on the easel. All clad in black as he was, from head to toes, the sight of him nearly took her breath away. The atmosphere in the room shifted as he drew closer, as if darkness itself was shrinking away and retreating in front of night incarnate.

Each piece of leather seemed to have been stitched and riveted directly around his body, enveloping his limbs so perfectly it left close to nothing to the imagination. His hair looked even lighter, against all that black, seemingly made of rays of moonlight, or other godly materials. The long piece of scarlet silk, delicately draped over his shoulder, cascaded down the length of his back and legs, until it pooled at his feet like a puddle of blood.

Astarion took a few lithe steps towards the chair and sat in front of her, as she arranged her supplies on a little table he’d placed near her canvas. He looked glorious in every possible way, and Selene had trouble concentrating on her tasks.

The vampire kept his eyes trained on each of her movements, a strange intensity in his gaze that she didn’t know how to interpret.

Once she was done, her feet carried her to him, hesitantly looking at his posture.

“May I touch you ? I’d like to adjust everything before we start.”

His red eyes widened a little bit at her question, before he regained his composure and crossed his legs.

“Oh please do, darling” he purred, a dangerous smile playing on his lips, as if he were begging for something different, in a very different context.

Selene’s hands reached for the vampire, touching him in ways she never would’ve never dared to otherwise.

She brushed a silver curl away from his forehead, with a softness that almost would have looked tender to any onlooker. The tips of her fingers came to rest under his chin, gently tilting his head to the side. Delicately holding his forearms and angling them on the armrest, she then took his hands in her own and placed them on his lap. One of them was made to hold the dagger he’d brought from downstairs, the blade tentatively resting against his thigh.

Finally, Selene kneeled at his feet, fixing the silk until she was satisfied with the way it rested on the floor.

While she was busy arranging his cape, she felt his own fingers reaching out for her hair, softly pushing her heavy curly hair away from her neck and letting them fall down her back. They lingered for a few seconds on her nape, lusciously feeling her bones and the start of her spine.

“You should tie them up, so they’re out of the way” his silky voice said from above her, and she heard the rushed and loud beating of her own heart in her ears.

When she got up, red as a peony, he had a particularly vampish smile playing on his lips.

“Are you comfortable ? Do you feel like you could stay like this for a while ?”

“It shouldn’t be an issue, darling” he stared up at her through his lashes, a dangerous flame dancing in his eyes, “I am well versed in the art of maintaining a variety of positions , all night long if need be. ”

Astarion’s blatant flirting wasn’t lost on Selene, it had never been, but she did not really know how to respond to it. She usually settled for pathetic smiles and flushed cheeks, like an inexperienced maiden.

She had quickly gathered that part of being a good painter was spending a lot of time observing people, and dissecting them, so that part of their temperament would transpire on their features. And yet, on most occasions, talking to the vampire felt to her like fumbling in the dark, unsure of where to go or of what to say. No matter how hard she tried, Selene couldn’t tell where his mask of flamboyance began, and where it ended. She just knew it existed, and maybe it was already enough in itself.

Sometimes his pretty words sounded like the practised lines of a skillful actor on the stage of the city’s luxurious theatre, at others they rang true in ways she had not expected. Those rare moments were like ripples at the surface of water, and she longed to dive in the murky waters of his mind to see what kind of secrets rested at the bottom of it.

“We shall begin then” she uttered, more to herself than to Astarion, and she came back to stand behind her canvas.

Selene grabbed one of her brushes, inelegantly sticking it into the messy bun she’d curled her hair into. Faintly, she heard Astarion sigh, in what mistakenly sounded like impatience.

With a deft hand, she started tracing stark and dark lines. In the silence of the room echoed the familiar melody of the charcoal stick grazing the canvas, with each quick flick of her wrist. Every time she looked back at him, his ruby eyes hadn’t left her, unwavering.

When he talked once again, his voice sounded somehow mellower. “Come to think of it, I have never asked you your full name.”

Her movements halted, her hand suspended above the piercing eyes she’d just finished sketching.

“It’s just Selene” she answered, failing to completely conceal the emotion in her voice, “I’m an orphan”.

The tip of her finger lightly rubbed the canvas, blurring a shadow under his eyebrow. She was as delicate with the drawing as she was with him, as if it was Astarion himself that she was touching with the staining edge of her stick.

“Why did you never commission one of our city’s greater painters to draw your portrait ? Before I offered to draw your portrait I mean -” she asked in turn, clearly eager to talk about something else.

“I don’t particularly relish being in the company of artists, you are an exception” he snickered, and the way he tapped his foot while he talked, made her think of the way cats tap their tail when they are bothered by something.

His backhanded compliment still somehow found its way to her heart, and she smiled while focusing on the lines of his sophisticated curls.

Selene’s only gateway into the very private and elitist circle of baldurian artists had only been Damian, and she’d lived in his shadow for years. He had given her little to no opportunity to converse with the famous painters she sometimes saw at parties or gatherings. She’d guessed it was because he was too afraid that she’d talk too much and reveal things that should be kept secret.

If her master was anything like the rest of them, she could only agree with Astarion though.

“You’ll probably think that I am a terrible bore, but I don’t mingle that much with fellow painters, so I can’t really agree or disagree” she explained, ticking when she realised her rendition of his perfect jaw was, in fact, far from being perfect.

“Is it because of Fallheel ? Does he forbid you to talk to others like he forbid you to talk to me ? ” he harshly inquired, and the tone of his voice made her lift her eyes from her sketch once again.

Yes of course, she thought, but she found herself instinctively shaking her head when she answered. “I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

A low sarcastic chuckle. “Oh on the contrary, you know exactly what I’m implying, darling”, the vampire grew agitated on his chair, forgetting to stay still and playing with the blade of the dagger that was in his lap, “the man is pathetic, so unsure of himself, that he’s scared you’d run off or choose a new master if you socialised more.”

“Can you stay just like that ? Playing with the dagger” she excitedly asked, “ yes, yes, that’s even better than before !”

He rolled his eyes but obliged her nonetheless, the ghost of a smile on his delicious lips.

Hours went on like this, with a few words exchanged between them, and Selene feverishly drawing to finish her sketch before the sun was up in the city's sky.

And surely enough, it did rise, slowly at first, barely illuminating the stratosphere and filling it with indigo blue clouds.

It reminded her of a story they used to tell to children at the orphanage, the tragic tale of the sun and the moon. She remembered how Amalia, the elderly headmistress, told them about that ballad that she had written in her youth, when she was still a bard. She’d called it “the greatest and saddest love. It began with her tremulous voice whispering : “ the moon and the sun are lovers, but to love from afar is to love bitterly”. At the end of every night, the moon quickly would sadly retreat to the horizon, still there when the first rays shone at the other side of the world, as if to cast one last desperate look behind her. At the beginning of every day, the sun would hurry at the doors of the sky, to steal one look at the beauty of the lady of the night. For a few glorious seconds, the two planets would be face to face, like forbidden lovers destined to always distantly cross paths and condemned to long for things they could never have.

It reminded her of him , as she drew the last detailed bit of the decor behind his silhouette.

Outside, she could hear carriages passing through the avenue and the hooves of the horses stomping on the pavement. A few voices echoed in the streets, as baldurians either began a long day, or came home after an even longer night.

“The sun is almost up, darling, you should probably go home,” Astarion wearily said, hauling himself to his feet, “before someone sees you scandalously coming out of my house at the cracks of dawn.”

He elegantly stood up and strode to close the window. Gripping the thick curtains, he lingered there for a little more, eyes lost in the sky with the most hearwenching expression she’d ever seen him make. The blue light that highlighted the contour of his profile gave her a glimpse of what he’d look like in the sun, and something in her chest did a strange summersault.

“I’ve finished the sketching part” she softly declared, letting her charcoal stick fall into its metallic box, and wiping her hands, “ Do you wish to see it now, or when it’ll be painted ?”

This seemed to pick his interest and in one swift motion, he drew the curtains and engulfed them in the dark once again.

“I’ve never been one for suspense. Show me, love” he growled, eyes wide and sparkly in the dim lights.

Selene stepped aside, suddenly shy and doubtful. At times, when drawing him, she’d felt as though he was so painfully beautiful that any attempt at recreating his features would be fruitless at best, and ridiculous at worst.

Astarion’s eyes roamed the canvas, slowly, silently, his lips trembling as if he were trying to articulate words. He exhaled once, one shallow breath that fanned across her hair. She felt his body shake right beside her, the leather of his armour crackling with each of his imperceptible movements.

After a few agonising seconds, he smiled wide and bright, and Selene’s kness almost buckled from how relieved she was.

“Do you like it ?” she timidly asked, her dirty fingers fidgeting with the cloth she was still holding.

The vampire turned to stare at her, “If I like it ?” he chortled, drawing near and taking her face in his hands, “I adore it, you absurdly talented woman.”

Her flushed cheeks burnt against the cold of his palm, and when she looked into his scarlet eyes, she realised they were wet with tears.

“Everything about this is exquisite. I understand why Fallheel wants to keep you all to himself” he breathed, his lips almost brushing against her own when he talked.

“I’m gla-” Selene started, but suddenly she felt something roll under the sole of her shoe, sending her flying backward.

A piece of charcoal, most likely.

The world titled and turned, as she pathetically failed to find anything to cling to.

In an instant, one of Astarion’s powerful arms closed around her waist, pressing her flush against the hard plane of his chest. The cold clasps of his armour deliciously digging into the skin of her breasts, naked under her flowy shirt.

She had stupidly decided not to wear a bodice the night prior, as it would constrict and dig into her ribcage when she spent hours hunched over a painting.

They tumbled to the ground, a muffled groan coming out of her mouth when her back gently hit the carpeted floor.

Astarion had fallen on top of her, kneeling between her legs and holding himself up on one arm. His other hand firmly held her hip, his thumb resting on the naked skin of her lower belly, right above the laces of her breeches.

“Ah well, look how good your charcoal drawing is, darling,” he said with a low chuckle, “you’ve managed to bring me down to my knees.”

She giggled beneath the vampire, so filled with the joy of having done something for him, that she forgot to be embarrassed about the way their bodies were pressed together.

He gingerly caressed her cheek, the pad of his fingers following the lines of her dimples. “You should laugh more, it suits you, you know.”

She watched his gaze trail from her face to her neck, leaving goosebumps on her skin in its wake. His expression slowly morphed into another. The muscles of his jaw growing tight, his irises draining from all their light, and turning into a deep burgundy red, so dark it looked almost black.

An alarm rang somewhere in the back of her mind, like it had so many times since she’d entered his manor the night before. Like some old and primal instinct, plaguing her with the certainty that she was stalked by a deadly creature, flooding her mind with the gripping urge to flee before being stuck under the attack of its teeth and claws.

But once again, she turned a deaf ear to it, too enthralled by the way his pale eyelashes moved with each of his slow blinks, or the sensation of his fingers tracing her collarbones with feather light caresses.

The will to live might have been strong in most living things, but she was sure it was nothing that the softness of his touch could not silence. If Death had had the face of Astarion, odious crowds of wretched and suffering mortal souls would’ve crawled at his feet, ashen and emaciated by the pain of living. Their bony and crooked fingers gripping and tugging at him, as they sang their woes.

Take us, embrace us, for nothing in this life is more glorious than you, who is the end of all.

She talked before she was aware of the words forming on her tongue. “Are you hungry, Astarion ?”

He looked up at her, pupils blown, like two dark orbs in which heard the call of the void.

“Don’t tempt a beast, darling, for it might truly bare its teeth” he snarled, his fangs looking much sharper than usual under the shadow of his lip.

“Show me then“ she breathed, raising her hand to lay it flat on his plated chest, where his heart should’ve been beating, “The beast inside.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying”, he shook his head, pressing his eyes closed, as if he were battling something inside his mind, “It’s all ugly, and it’s ill favoured.”

“Nothing about you could ever be hideous, Astarion” she uttered, truly meaning each and every word, “Not to me.”

She’d always thought so, even when she’d gotten a glimpse of the more sinister parts of him.

Selene’s fingers reached for his forehead, intimately wiping off the sheen of sweat on his skin, and Astarion all but melted into her arms. Yielding to her gentleness.

He pressed his nose against the curve of her neck, breathing along her nape, brushing his soft lips against her skin, until his face was buried in the dark curls of her hair.

“You smell so …” he whispered in her ears, taking another lungful of her scent, “sumptuous.”

His hips fell between her open legs, fitting perfectly, as though he were some missing piece in the puzzle of her body she didn’t even know she’d lost.

His tongue licked a hot and wet stripe on her pulse, and something like a moan of pain wormed its way out of his chest. “I can almost taste your blood like this, as it rushes and pools under your flushed skin.”

She didn’t know it was possible, but her heart started to beat even faster, something taking flight in her chest and rising to higher spheres.

“Please” she pleaded, her words barely a breath, without really knowing what it was she was begging for exactly.

Astarion lifted his face away from her nape once again, resting his forehead on hers, and staring deep into her eyes. She could see the thin ring of his burning irises around all that darkness.

“Since the day I’ve seen you in that pitiful tavern, I’ve dreamt of it. I’ve had visions of you, and visions of me having you the way I please.”

His hand tightened around the hollow of her waist as he talked, bringing her impossibly closer, even though they were already tightly embracing each other.

“But it’s nothing tender, you see. I’m no longer capable of such things. They are full of blood and death, the kind of kisses I give” he breathed against her lips, almost taking her mouth then and there, and she drunkenly inhaled the air that came out of his lungs.

“I’ve always loved a kiss with teeth”, her hand stroked his silver hair, admiring the softness of his curl, “ So kiss me, Astarion.”

His eyes widened, irises ablaze with scorching flames, and he placed a river of small kisses from the corner of her mouth to her nape.

She laid there, staring at the red ceiling of the room. Desire and fear coiled in her belly, as she waited for a sting that she knew was coming.

And all at once, it was there.

A sharp pain that tore a sob out of her. Her back arched off the floor, and Astarion’s hips buckled into her when he swallowed her blood for the first time. It tingled where his teeth were, each wave of pain turning into a pulsating sensation that had wetness pooling between her legs.

Her neck had always been a weak spot of hers, a part of her body where her nerves seemed to acutely pick up on each friction and stroke. She knew she would have come just from a few of his kisses and love bites but … this was different. The addictive blend of pain and pleasure that he was inflicting on her, had her toes curling and her vision blurring with ecstasy.

The vampire growled, deep and vicious, his pointy ear twitching against her cheek with each gulp of blood. His soft hair tickled her chin, like silk upon her skin, and it deliciously contrasted with the brutality of his teeth in her flesh.

Distantly, she heard his hand violently slam on the floor next to her head, nails scraping the surface and clawing at the wood, instead of tearing her skin apart. He pressed further into her, suddenly crushing her hips with lascivious thrusts that had her chasing a release she didn’t even know was already building deep in her core.

She gripped the straps on his shoulders, stars dancing in the corners of her vision.

“Ah-Astarion, I’m-” she whined, as he started licking and sucking at her wound with open-mouthed kisses.

His cold hand travelled up her torso, like water sipping through the fabric of her cotton shirt, until it reached her breasts. It stopped at first, trembling as if he were realising that she wasn’t wearing any corset under her button down, before he kneaded and pinched her hard nipples with a renewed vigour.

Each time his hips picked up speed, her clothed slit tantalizingly glided along the buckle of his belt, sending bolts of electricity at the base of her spine. Astarion was making love to her with and through his armour, each of his movements under the constricting leather of his attire sending her down a spiral of suffocating pleasure.

Thighs twitching uncontrollably, something recoiling in her belly with the promise of a shattering return, Selene let out a string of chocked moans.

He groaned once, his hips slowing at the same time as her body convulsed and exploded around him. His thighs flexed under her own, and the thought of his coming in his leather pants had her spasming for a little bit longer under him.

Astarion slowly unlatched from her neck, mouth and cheeks smeared with gore. His hands cupped her face, coaxing her eyes open with caresses and kisses on her flushed cheeks.

“Are you still with me, darling ?” he sweetly asked, a tinge of worry in his voice.

Selene didn’t know whether she’d come or died, or both. She uttered an intelligible answer, nodding through the afterglow of her orgasm. She felt weak and dazed, convinced that she’d float out of her body if Astarion wasn’t holding her onto the ground.

“You, my sweet, are the most divine thing I have tasted”, he murmured, lapping at a drop of blood that dripped across her neck when she’d turned her head, “you’ve given me so much tonight that I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I could say the same thing” she whispered, wiping a bit of the blood that was dripping from his lips.

He sighed before bringing her hands to his lips, languorously licking the red smears that she had collected on her thumb. His eyes looked like rubies once again, shimmering in the dark, maybe even brighter than before.

“Come on, let’s clean you up.”

The last thing she felt before the world went black, was the strong set of Astarion’s arms closing under back and legs, and lifting her off the ground. Her head fell on his shoulder, the sweet and vibrant scent of him lulling her to sleep.

In the swirling darkness of her closed eyes, she dreamt that she was splattering buckets of crimson paint on the walls of a blank and empty room. Hands and brushes drenched with it, singing and dancing in the red, she felt happy.

Free .

#astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x female oc #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #Spotify

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greeninteriofusion · 3 months ago

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Revolutionizing Interiors in Kerala: The Benefits of Ceiling Safety Glass

In the vibrant state of Kerala, known for its rich cultural heritage and stunning natural beauty, modern interior design is increasingly incorporating advanced materials to enhance both aesthetics and functionality. One such innovation is ceiling safety glass, a key component in creating sophisticated and secure spaces. This article explores the advantages of using ceiling safety glass in Kerala, including roof safety glass, toughened glass ceiling panels, laminated ceiling glass, and safety glass roof works.

Why Choose Ceiling Safety Glass in Kerala?

1. Modern Elegance

Ceiling safety glass adds a touch of modern elegance to any interior. Its sleek and transparent nature helps create a sense of openness and sophistication. Whether used in residential homes or commercial spaces, ceiling safety glass can transform a room into a stylish and contemporary environment.

2. Enhanced Safety Features

Safety is a top priority when it comes to ceiling installations, and ceiling safety glass excels in this regard. Made from toughened or laminated glass, it is designed to withstand impact and resist shattering. This makes it an ideal choice for high-traffic areas where safety and durability are crucial.

3. Maximizing Natural Light

One of the key benefits of ceiling safety glass is its ability to maximize natural light. By allowing sunlight to flow through, it helps brighten interior spaces and reduces the reliance on artificial lighting. This feature is particularly valuable in Kerala’s sunny climate, where natural light can enhance the ambiance and energy efficiency of a home or business.

Types of Ceiling Safety Glass

1. Toughened Glass Ceiling Panels

Toughened glass, also known as tempered glass, is a popular choice for ceiling panels due to its strength and durability. It is heat-treated to withstand high impact and temperature changes, making it a reliable option for ceiling installations. Toughened glass ceiling panels are ideal for both residential and commercial applications, offering a sleek and robust solution.

2. Laminated Ceiling Glass

Laminated glass consists of two or more glass layers bonded together with an interlayer. This type of safety glass is designed to hold together even when shattered, providing additional protection and security. Laminated ceiling glass is particularly useful in environments where extra safety is required, such as in public buildings or high-rise structures.

3. Roof Safety Glass

Roof safety glass is used for skylights and other overhead installations. It provides both aesthetic appeal and functional benefits, such as improved light transmission and enhanced structural integrity. Roof safety glass is available in various types, including toughened and laminated options, to suit different architectural needs.

4. Safety Glass Roof Works

Safety glass roof works involve the installation of specialized glass in roof areas to ensure both safety and visual appeal. This includes the use of toughened or laminated glass for skylights, glass roofs, and other overhead features. Safety glass roof works are essential for creating safe and attractive spaces, particularly in commercial and public buildings.

Applications of Ceiling Safety Glass in Kerala

1. Residential Interiors

In Kerala’s homes, ceiling safety glass can be used to create elegant living spaces. From stylish skylights to modern ceiling panels, it enhances the visual appeal while allowing natural light to illuminate interiors. Its versatility makes it a popular choice for contemporary home design.

2. Commercial Spaces

For commercial interiors, ceiling safety glass provides a sophisticated look while ensuring safety and durability. It’s commonly used in office buildings, retail stores, and restaurants to create bright, inviting spaces. The ability to integrate modern technology and design elements with ceiling glass further enhances its appeal.

3. Public Buildings

Ceiling safety glass is also ideal for public buildings such as airports, museums, and shopping malls. Its strength and safety features are essential for high-traffic areas where both functionality and aesthetics are important. The use of safety glass in these settings ensures a secure and visually striking environment.

Choosing the Right Ceiling Safety Glass

1. Quality and Standards

Ensure that the glass used meets the necessary safety and building standards. Toughened and laminated glass should be sourced from reputable suppliers to guarantee performance and safety.

2. Professional Installation

Proper installation is crucial for the effectiveness and safety of ceiling glass. Engage with experienced professionals who specialize in glass installations to ensure that all panels are securely fitted and comply with safety regulations.

3. Design Integration

Consider how ceiling safety glass will integrate with the overall design of the space. Choose glass types and finishes that complement the existing décor and enhance the intended aesthetic.

Conclusion

Incorporating ceiling safety glass into interior design projects in Kerala offers a blend of style, safety, and functionality. From toughened glass ceiling panels to laminated ceiling glass and roof safety glass, the options available cater to a range of design needs and preferences. Embrace the modern elegance and practical benefits of ceiling safety glass to create stunning, secure, and light-filled spaces in your next design venture.

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alpineroofingconstruction · 3 months ago

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Alpine Roofing Construction

Alpine Roofing Construction, a Dallas TX-based roofing company, has proudly served customers in the greater Dallas-Fort Worth area with commercial and residential roofing since 1999. We specialize in installing, repairing, and maintaining all types of commercial roofing systems, including flat and low-sloped roofs, steeply sloped roofs, and options like single-ply, metal roofing, stone-coated steel, and TPO roofing.

We also replace residential roofs using high-quality materials like standing seam, slate, tile, and copper. For top-quality roofing services, tailored for our region’s harsh climate, and exceptional customer service, contact Alpine Roofing Construction today.

#alpineroofingconstruction #Alpine Roofing Construction

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jimi-rawlings · 1 month ago

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Angel of the Lord - Wikipedia

Appearances of the "angel of the Lord" may leave the reader with the question of whether an angel or YHWH had appeared. Apart from the view that "the angel of the Lord is just that—an angel",[7] there are a variety of interpretations, e.g. that the angel is an earthly manifestation of the God of Israel or of Jesus Christ.

ROCKSTAR TUTELARY DEITY

Spirit: Jimi Hendrix

Call me Jimi Rawlings and Let me Swag out the Brand through Nike Collabs

Jimi Hendrix as Ancestral Deity with Visual-Spatial and Kinaesthetic Spiritual Genome Editing

TONY GWYNN HITTING

MODERN DAY KANSAS CITY MONARCHS AT METRODOME (BLACK MAFIA)

Season Ticket Holders

Baserunning Sabermetrics and Sportsbooks

Weaver's style of managing was summed up in the quote: "pitching, defense, and the three-run homer."

UZR Prospect: Jimi Rawlings

Ultimate Zone Rating (UZR)

Definition

Nike White Home Jersey matches Ball and Turf Sneakers with Astro Turf Bullpen Foul Line Dead Ball Era Entertainment District/Maritime Stadiums.

I am on Elite Models; I am running London Fashion Week through Burberry.

I use Ghostwriters and YouTube Freestyle DJs instead of Rap Crew.

Off Season Science Experiments through Baseball Kids Show.

Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills for Astrodome Ballparks

3 Run Home Run, No Errors, and 5 Holding Relievers, 5 Openers, & 3 Closers.

Batting Line Up WITH Pitchers: BUNT P-5; Top 4 is 3 Run Home Run and Bottom 4 is Slap Baseball.

Defense: C, SS, 2B RF are Slap Baseball and 1B, 3B, CF, LF are 3 Run Home Run. NO DOUBLES WITH CORNER IF/OF; RANGE UZR WITH CF, SS, 2B

DYNAMIC HITTING AREA BATTING TEE UMBRELLA

Mechanics then Drill — Jimi Rawlings

Exit Zone Cage (Shorter Roof Cage Soft Toss)

Wiffle Ball (Free Swing)

Creep Drill (115 MPH with 60.6 Inches)

MY UZR: PUTOUTS; BASERUNNING/ARM VALUE

A Statcast metric designed to use data to evaluate the performance of baserunners and outfielders in taking or preventing extra bases.

BATTING SPIRIT: PRINCE FIELDER

Toe Tap with Sidearm Top Hand and Bottom Hand Bat Lag Manipulated Release with Over Shoulder Ferris Wheel Diamond Strike Zone with + Slice & Hook Visual Aids

INFIELD SPIRIT: ERNIE BANKS

1B One Hoppers for SS One Handed-Fielding

OUTFIELD TRIO SPIRIT: ANDREW MCCUTCHEN; TONY GWYNN; AND RICKY HENDERSON

Bat Lag with Manipulated Release 34 Inch 32 Ounce Wine Cup Maple Bat; Running Back to Full Back age 20-30/30-40

Drive Phase with Head First Slide or Closing Speed Catch

Toe-Tap-Flamingo Strike Count Indicator Swings

EXECUTIVE SPIRIT: RUBE FOSTER, BUCK LEONARD, FERGIE JENKINS, AND WILLIE MAYS

Feeder Club Gentertrification Union Depot Metro;

Grassroots; Prep School; for Metrodome

ALEJANDRO POMPEZ AND SOL WHITE NEGRO LEAGUE MUSEUM URBANIZATION JAZZ SOCIETY UNION

UZR FOR MODERN ALL STAR NEGRO LEAGUES

Jean-Claude Traoré CF; Jazz Chisolm 2B; Javier Báez SS

DRAFT KINGS YOUTUBE HIGHLIGHTS

Draft Kings YouTube Channel Highlights through Season Ticket Holders (Social Currency, Triggers, Emotions, Public, Practical Value, Stories)

UZR% and TB Pythagorean Theorem (A + B = C)

Baserunning/Throwing Value Sabermetrics

GOLD HEDGING RESEARCH

Executive MBA

IFÁ Cluster Jewelry: IFÁ mean Divination System through Orunmila Santería/Yoruba Orisha

Amber as a Hedge

STARBUCKS & SEPHORA COFFEE RIGHTS

SHOP GLD IMAGE RIGHTS

Gold: OTC Risk Management Solutions for Gold, Silver, Platinum, Palladium and Rhodium

Futures Options and Clearing for CME traded precious metals contracts

OTC Averaging Swaps

LBMA Fixing Averaging Forwards

Precious Metals Inventory Financing

Precious Metals Leasing and Deposits

Doré Financing

Transportation and custody/storage of physical products

HOME DEPOT REAL ESTATE AGENT IMAGE RIGHTS

Real Estate Intrinsic Value Think Tank; Solar Panel Real Estate Investment Group

TD BANK — BOUTIQUE HOTEL IMAGE RIGHTS

The Hu. Hotel[2][3] is a luxury boutique hotel in Downtown Memphis, Tennessee, United States, located in the historic former Tennessee Trust Bank building.

Take a Declining Bank and Renovate it to a Boutique Hotel for an Enterprise Foundation.

real estate investment companies in the market.

FARMLAND PARTNERS IMAGE RIGHTS

This includes Real Estate Private Equity (REPE), Real Estate Investment Management, Real Estate Investment Trusts (REITs), and Real Estate Brokerage.

REIGs Homestead Rental Properties

A commercial economy is an economic system characterized by the exchange of goods and services, often driven by trade and market forces, rather than subsistence agriculture.

REIGs Edge City Slum

AMTRAK BEDROOM MONTREAL-GREAT LAKES IMAGE RIGHTS

Bedrooms

Other Amenities Include:

Everything in the roomette plus…

An Armchair

An even bigger landscape window

Private sink and vanity

Toilet and shower

SUNSET ANGELS (SUN EVENING STAR)

Human Form: Premier-Chargé d'affaires and Executive Branch Communist Working Class

Hedonic Sun Lightning Angels

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun, Uranus-Saturn Moon, Mercury Rising)

Hedonic Paradox Liberal Arts: Science and Arts (Nutritional BioChemistry and Gastronomy-Culinary Linguistics); (Bioaesthetics and Modelling)

Hedonic Birth: Prenatal Hormones Vitamins with Fetus Alcohol Consumption for Sensory Overload Asperger's

Hedonic Economic Geography (Church): Peninsula Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster

Hedonic Animals: Lammas & Alpacas

Hedonic Chef: Wine Dinner Fixed Course Meal: Kebab Hors-d'oeuvres, Apple Sweet Mayo Coleslaw Palate Cleansing Salad, Steamed Mollusk or Smoked Meat Entrée, Apple; Strawberry; Banana Dessert

Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that human behavior is psychologically determined by desires to increase pleasure and to decrease pain.[3][1]

Hedonic pricing is a model that identifies price factors according to the premise that price is determined both by internal characteristics of the good being sold and external factors affecting it.

SUN CHURCH PRACTICE (ENTERPRISE CROWN)

The Council of Trent (Latin: Concilium Tridentinum), held between 1545 and 1563 in Trent (or Trento), now in northern Italy, was the 19th ecumenical council of the Catholic Church.[1] Prompted by the Protestant Reformation at the time, it has been described as the embodiment of the Counter-Reformation.[2][3]

The Council issued key statements and clarifications of the Church's doctrine and teachings, including scripture, the biblical canon, sacred tradition, original sin, justification, salvation, the sacraments, the Mass, and the veneration of saints[4] and also issued condemnations of what it defined to be heresies committed by proponents of Protestantism. The consequences of the council were also significant with regard to the Church's liturgy and censorship.

Language Arts (Religious Swear Words and Sicanje) Igbo Vowel Harmony and Yoruba Religious Term Ori, Ase, and Ifà with Roman Alphabet.

Geopolitical Religiopolitical Economic Geography Westminster System Liberal Arts for Mirror for Princes

Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Prince.

Contract Theory with Business Clusters (Retail and Supplier)

Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills

Subsistence Farming with Options/FX Hedging

Tribal Prince of Lozi Sol

PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE

SUNSET

SUNSET CROWN TUTELARY TO ARCUBUSIER PRINCIPALITY; PRIMER CHARGÉ D'AFFAIRES TO PRIMATE CITY PRINCES; LION-CHEETAH-WOLF DIASPORA SPIRIT ANIMALS; AMBER; OPIUM- SASSAFRAS-TOBACCO; IFÁ CLUSTERS AND GOLD MINTING; G MAJOR OR SOL, A MUSICAL KEY; NIRP DEFLATED GOLD STANDARD WITH COMMODITY ECONOMIC TABLE EXCHANGE DE FACTO GILT FUND GOLD FX; SILT; HYALURONIC ACID; ROMAN GLYPH

NIRP DEFLATED GOLD STANDARD WITH COMMODITY ECONOMIC TABLE EXCHANGE DE FACTO GILT FUND GOLD FX;

PRIMATE STATE BUSINESS CLUSTER ECONOMIC GEOGRAPHY

GEOGRAPHY BELT OPEN PIT MINES (SUPPLIER) INDUSTRIAL CITY (MANUFACTURING)

GEOGRAPHY BELT PLANTATION ECONOMY (SUPPLIER) RURAL AREA (MANUFACTURING)

GOLD CITY (COMMERCE CENTRE)

LAND PORT (DISTRIBUTION)

CLAN MODEL: One of the major subfields of urban economics, economies of agglomeration (or agglomeration effects), explains, in broad terms, how urban agglomeration occurs in locations where cost savings can naturally arise.[1] As more firms in related fields of business cluster together, their production costs tend to decline significantly (firms have multiple competing suppliers; greater specialization and division of labor result). Even when competing firms in the same sector cluster, there may be advantages because the cluster attracts more suppliers and customers than a single firm could achieve alone. Cities form and grow to exploit economies of agglomeration. Economic geography takes a variety of approaches to many different topics, including the location of industries, economies of agglomeration (also known as "linkages"), transportation, international trade, development, real estate, gentrification, ethnic economies, gendered economies, core-periphery theory, the economics of urban form, the relationship between the environment and the economy (tying into a long history of geographers studying culture-environment interaction), and globalization.

Geographical Features and Trade

Rivers and Waterways : Historically, rivers have served as vital trade routes. For example, the Mississippi River in the United States facilitated trade among Native Americans and European settlers due to its accessibility from the northern regions to the Gulf of Mexico. Similarly, the Great Lakes provided a quicker means of transport compared to overland routes, enhancing trade efficiency in North America[1]. Waterways not only allowed for the movement of goods but also connected different regions economically.

Climate and Economic Development

Climate also plays a significant role in economic history. Regions with favorable climates tend to have higher agricultural productivity, which can lead to economic prosperity. For instance, temperate zones with access to oceans often exhibit higher GDP per capita compared to landlocked countries. This is largely due to better access to trade routes and resources[2][5]. Countries surrounded by oceans benefit from maritime trade opportunities and access to marine resources, which can bolster their economies.

SUNSET CROWN CRISTA ANCHOR VESSEL INVOCATION HORCRUXES IN KABBALAH

The Planetary Intelligences are invoked in occultism to control the blind forces of the planetary spirit, specifically in the creation of astrological talismans.[4]

Palm Fond Laurel Wreath: UZR Prospects/Eco Warrior (Mars Sol Canis Minor)

Midnight Crown (Sun, Jupiter, Pluto, Lust and Inccubus)

Nuit Blanche Crown (Sensory Processing Sensitivity-Expansive Mood Canis Minor with Sun)

Mercury Deity Mantra Crown: Wish Fountains and Gold Loonie Throw Ins (Asė); Mercury (/ˈmɜːrkjʊri/; Latin: Mercurius [mɛrˈkʊrijʊs] ⓘ) is a major god in Roman religion and mythology, being one of the 12 Dii Consentes within the ancient Roman pantheon. He is the god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence, messages, communication (including divination), travelers, boundaries, luck, trickery, and thieves; he also serves as the guide of souls to the underworld[2][3] and the "messenger of the gods".

BIRTH NATAL CHART THROUGH OCCULT PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE

Men

Mars-Sun (Mars sol)

Saturn-Jupiter-Uranus (Capricornus)

Mercury-Moon (Canis Minor)

Girl

Moon-Sun (Leo Minor)

Saturn-Jupiter-Uranus (Capricornus)

Mercury-Moon (Canis Minor)

SAINT

Roman equivalent Jupiter • Sol

SUNSET CROWN BAPTIST

THEOLOGY: Sun Principality Divination LEFT HANDED-PATH PLANETARY INTELLIGENCE CROWN CRISTA HORCRUX ANCHOR VESSEL INVOCATION

SUN CHURCH PRACTICE

Tithe; noun; one tenth of annual produce or earnings, formerly taken as a tax for the support of the Church and clergy.

Language Arts (Religious Swear Words and Sicanje) Igbo Vowel Harmony and Yoruba Religious Term Ori, Ase, and Ifà with Roman Alphabet.

Geopolitical Religiopolitical Economic Geography Westminster System Liberal Arts for Mirror for Princes

Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Prince

Contract Theory with Business Clusters (Retail and Supplier) Subsistence Construction with Architecture Arithmetic Skills Subsistence Farming with Options/FX Hedging Tribal Prince of SUNSET CROWN BAPTIST

HEDONIC SUN LIGHTNING ANGELS

Human Form: Premier-Chargé d'affaires and Executive Branch Communist Working Class Athletes

Hedonic Shamanism: Crista Wing Transfer in Urban Setting

Hedonic Human Form: Sun Peninsula Supply Side Economics Commerce Center Busıness Cluster with Plantation Economy Rural Areas and Industrial States Border as a Premier Referenced Angel Prince.

Hedonic Acting: Red Collar (Freeport Smuggling and Canvas Robbery) with Conflict Minerals for Screenplay and Quarterly Budgeting for Painting Polar (Tuxön Polâr)

Hedonic Husbandry: Coffee (Mıxology, Olfactory Arts, and Sephora)

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun-Moon, Mercury-Mars-Venus Moon, Saturn-Uranus-Jupiter Rising)

Hedonic Paradox Liberal Arts: Science and Arts (Nutritional BioChemistry and Gastronomy-Culinary Linguistics); (Bioaesthetics and Modelling)

Hedonic Birth: Prenatal Hormones Vitamins with Fetus Alcohol Consumption for Sensory Overload Asperger's

Hedonic Economic Geography (Church): Peninsula Husbandry Metallurgy Purchasing Matrix Business Cluster

Hedonic Animals: Sheep (Rambouillet, Lacaune, Texel) and Lammas & Alpacas

Psychological or motivational hedonism claims that human behavior is psychologically determined by desires to increase pleasure and to decrease pain.[3][1]

Hedonic pricing is a model that identifies price factors according to the premise that price is determined both by internal characteristics of the good being sold and external factors affecting it.

IFÁ

Solar Crown Wing Transfer Asė

SOL ANGELS: HELL EVENING STAR SUN MATERIAL WORLD SUNSET ANGELS CLAN SOLAR CROWN DEITIES (SUN PRINCIPALITY)

Hedonic Astrology: Capricornus Constellation Conjunction Leo Minor Constellation Conjunction Taurus (Sun Sun-Moon, Mercury-Mars-Venus Moon, Saturn-Uranus-Jupiter Rising)

In this example, the adept must surrender all, including the guidance of his Holy Guardian Angel, and leap into the Abyss.

Thomism is the philosophical and theological school which arose as a legacy of the work and thought of Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), the Dominican philosopher, theologian, and Doctor of the Church.

SAINTS

THE ARABA, CHIEF PRIEST OF IFA: "YORUBA RELIGION AT THE CROSSROADS”

Ifarinwale Ogundiran ("The Araba")

BABALAWOS

ASĖ

Brother DNA

ORI

Intercessory Prayer with a Conscious Vessel and KABBA NICENE as Religious Identity

KABBALISTIC TEXT

The godhood self sought by left-hand path followers is represented by the qliphah Thaumiel in the Tree of Knowledge.[4]

Regardie and Crowley

According to Aleister Crowley, the three evil forms (before Samael), are said to be Qemetial, Belial, and Othiel.[15]

Crowley (who calls them "Orders of Qliphoth")[16] and Israel Regardie[17] list the qlippoth and their associated sephiroth on the tree of life as:

Thaumiel, associated with Kether

Ghogiel, associated with Chokmah

Satariel, associated with Binah

Agshekeloh, associated with Chesed

Golohab, associated with Geburah

Tagiriron, associated with Tiphareth

Gharab Tzerek, associated with Netzach

Samael, associated with Hod

Gamaliel, associated with Yesod

Lilith, associated with Malkuth.

The Kabbalistic angels, also known as the Angels of the Shem HaMephorash, are 72 celestial spirits whose names are derived from the 72-fold name of the Hebrew god as found in the Book of Exodus.

TUTELARY DEITY

SUN SEPARATISM

Religion; Ethnicity; (Melanin) Sun Kissed Skin Tone; Clan; Gold Industrial City; Planetary Intelligence Occult; Separatism from Abrahamic Religion

DIASPORA

JEWS I PROTECT

💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲

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