hand picked tea

it started years ago, informally, as a monthly drink between happy and rhodey; a few months after pepper started at stark industries, she was invited along to join them. years passed before anyone else came around worthy of joining their little club – pepper invited natasha, but she balked at the implication in the group’s title and refused to show up – so they stayed a party of three until tony dragged bruce into his life (bruce drinks tea instead of whiskey, but he always comes). the day rhodey met sam wilson and recognized him as a kindred spirit, he decided it didn’t matter if it was tony specifically who was at the heart of someone’s situation: a man who knows trouble helps his fellows in the same boat, a theory that eventually brings bucky barnes and (finally) natasha on board.

“welcome,” says rhodey, every third friday at an undisclosed location, “to this meeting of the ‘why am i friends with this ridiculous asshole’ society.” the room nods a weary hello.

cannabis hot tea recipie:

-3 cups water
-2 teaspoons of butter
-½ gram of weed (ground or small bits hand-picked apart)
-your favorite tea flavor

bring 3 cups of water to a boil and add 2 tsp butter. stir. add ½ gram to boiling water and turn heat to medium/high. boil for 30-40 mins and stir every 2-3 minutes. DO NOT let the water boil without stirring occasionally it will evaporate. after the 30 minutes are up pour the liquid through a strainer into a mug add the tea bag, sugar and/or honey. The tea should have a greenish tint to it. Let the tea sit for 5-10 minutes because it will be very hot. add your favorite tea bag if you want to mask the flavor of the weed. it will take about 45 minutes to an hour to fully kick in and you will be soaring high in the sky for about a good 3 hours. enjoy!

note: you may need to add more water after all the ingredients have been added and do not add lemon or it will react w the butter and curdle the tea


“No, but he definitely noticed you,” Hannah drank her tea, made a face, (it was cold,) and said, “I mean, who wouldn’t notice a weirdo gawking at you through the window multiple times a day?”

“Stop making it sound like I’m stalking him!” Castiel accused. “I’m not—I’m just… I’m a creep aren’t I?“

“You could always ask him yourself,” Hannah suggested.

Castiel laughed. “Like hell.”

(Or in which Dean moves into Castiel’s neighborhood, has really big windows he never covers up, and Castiel likes to stare at him when he goes running.)

[on AO3]

               Castiel had lived in Pontiac, Illinois for almost his entire life, and he knew everyone who lived in the neighborhood. There was Uriel, a grumpy man that weirdly had a good sense of humor who lived across the street from him. There was also Zachariah, (who was actually a pain in the ass and always tried to get Castiel to join his law firm despite Castiel insisting his law degree was just for pleasure and he was quite content with his gardens and bee farm, thank you very much,) that lived around the block. There was Michael and Raphael and Gabriel, (oh don’t get Castiel started on Gabriel,) and Hannah, (sweet girl, really,) and Hael and Anna—Oh, no. Anna moved last week.

               Which brings Castiel to his current problem: the man that moved into Anna’s old house.

               The house was exactly two-and-three-quarters blocks from Castiel’s house, on the route that Castiel jogged every morning at 7:00. It was the one with the broken mailbox, (Anna had always complained about it when she caught him in the grocery store, and Castiel hadn’t noticed a change,) and with the flickering lamp by the front door. That, too, had yet to be fixed.

               Castiel honestly hadn’t noticed the two large windows that opened up into the kitchen of the house. He had no reason to, Castiel supposed, but now he definitely did because his new neighbor was—excuse his language—hot as fuck. He seemed to like to cook a lot, too. So whenever Castiel jogged by one morning as he always did, he slowed (albeit not noticeably,) and stared.

               The man had freckles up and down his cheekbones and the length of his nose, and strong arms. His hair was dirty-blond and spiked, his shirt was rumpled and used; he held a cup of coffee to his lips as he took a frying pan out and set it on the stove. The man’s back was towards Castiel, so it isn’t as if Castiel could be caught. No shame in looking, right?

               Anyway, that’s how it started.

               And Castiel may or may not have adjusted his jogging times to when he noticed Dean liked to cook breakfast.

               Or lunch.

               Or dinner.

               (Castiel had a bit of a crush.)

               But none of that’s important.

               Castiel was getting more fit, probably training to do another marathon, (because why not?), but the truth of the matter was that running gave him excuse to see Dean through the large windows. The window were always clean. Castiel had yet to find a smudge yet.

               He shook his head. Castiel was thirty-two. This was ridiculous.

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anonymous asked:

kastle & 7!!!

frank/karen + 7. fake relationship au

Frank and Karen sat next to each other in a booth at a restaurant, a plate of appetizers in front of them. They were scouting out someone that Frank wanted to kill but Matt wanted to rough up and Foggy wanted to prosecute. Karen offered to play mediator, basically giving the deciding vote. It had happened several times throughout the past six months since Frank Castle came into their lives and Matt opened up about being Daredevil. Karen was always the deciding vote – and more often than not she would side with Frank.

The guy they were watching now was trying to start up his own gang, he had started small in drugs but was now already trying to dip his feet in human trafficking. Frank wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in his head, but Matt thought he could be changed and Foggy just wanted him in jail. Karen was actually leaning towards siding with Foggy, but she knew it could change. He seemed to be a slimy guy, but she wasn’t sure if he deserved to die – yet.

Karen reached her hand forward and picked up a jalapeño popper, lifting it to her lips and biting into it while they waited. When she turned to look at Frank, she noticed him staring at her with an amused look on his face. “What?” She asked, bringing her hand up to her face to cover her mouth. “I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten today.”

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