seperis | coffee porn (not here, sadly)

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So I am sitting here, struggling to remain conscious and intersted in existence. And I keep fantasizing about coffee.

I mean, not just like a cup of coffee. No. This is elaborate.

It's a latte, like Cute Guy my freshman year used to make, settled into individual layers, sugar added carefully with a spoon so it gets sweet without destroying the visual. Slow, careful foaming of the milk by hand with a tiny whisk.

There is fresh whipped cream draped over the lip of the glass mug, layers of coffee visible beneath the slow slide of the foam, from the color of my skin at the top to deep brown at the bottom. Somehow, I know he gave it a shot of chocolate syrup and a whiff of vanilla. Tiny pure chocolate curls are sprinkled over the top and around the counter where My True Coffee Awaits. Bittersweet for contrast, because I love my coffee supersweet.

Seriously. I am almost convinced I can *smell* it.

This is the part where I tell everyone the nearest coffee shop is *miles away*. God. My life sucks.

I want coffee porn. Rodney, John, Lex, Clark, Brian, Dean, Logan, Scott Summers, Tom Paris, Snape, do not *care*. Anyone know where I can find it?

ETA: No, seriously. I really need coffee porn. because I am about to get work made coffee, which is a crime against coffee beans, good taste, humanity, and life itself. God. This is like staring at mud. Really sad mud.

Yet, I am still drinking it.

Guuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....................

Yeah. That--that is where I am.

Ooh. Your *icon*. *starry eyes*

Fuck. All we have is this ghetto coffee shit here and I don't have my car here today.

black_hound made the icon. It's a reference to the Hornblower books where they too love coffee. Coffee and sailor porn - a match made in fucking heaven.

...jesus christ, I need me some Starbuck's so bad after what you just said.

Ooh yeah. Coffee.

I wish I could write you (hell, me) coffee porn, but unfortunately

1)I'm at work, so there is no writing of porn
2)I can't write porn
3)The description of your True Cup of Coffee has now gotten me craving more (and better) coffee and it's all I can think about.
4)Rodney would be great coffee porn...I can totally see John teasing him with a cup of freshly roasted just made coffee.

Rodney would be *mindblowing* coffee porn. He'd--he'd make these *sounds*. He'd stroke the glass to pick up the heat with his fingertips, lick around the lip of the mug to pick up the coffee-flavored cream and crystals of sugar. Lean over it and breathe in the smell with his eyes closed tight, cradling the cup between two big palms.Take this tiny first sip and go boneless against the lab bench, hazy-eyed and pliable and soft.

Uhhhh....see, you don't need *us* to write you coffee porn. You should be writing the coffee porn for us. Because I can totally see that scene in my mind now. And John would be wearing his black t-shirt (and a P-90 because he's going on a mission and Rodney can't go and he's pouting and refusing John sex so John brings him *that* cup of coffee) and it'd be hot.

Yup.

Guh. *thud*

Hmmmm, coffee. My One True Cup of Coffee would be a nice hot, strong cup of coffee with perfectly foamed milk (it would look something like this (http://www.8ung.at/fiaker/assets/images/autogen/a_wien-cafe.jpg)) in a cozy coffeehouse in Vienna. Possibly accompanied by a good book and a deliciously chocolatey, moist piece of Sachertorte, if I'm feeling particularly indulgent. Um, yeah. Never study abroad in Vienna if you don't want to have ridiculous coffee standards.

Or move to Chicago, where Viennese coffee company Julius Meinl (http://www.meinl.com/southport/home.html) has a cafe....

Ahh, but I *am* in Chicago. So I do get there once in awhile. : ) But it's a bit out of my way, so I only get there so often. The ambiance is a bit American, but I can cope with that (and I do like that they have bigger coffee cups...)

Okay, coffee porn: the Starbucks one floor above me in our faboo new office building (and also in the building across the street) gives Americanos away for an hour in the morning and an hour in the afternoon, every day. It's supposed to facilitate communications across the organizations here in the building, by bringing everyone down to the common watering hole twice a day.

(Also free tea. I gotta have my cuppa.) (And half-price sodas.)

"You're drinking coffee."

John looked up to see Lorne standing before him. He grinned, ostentatiously took a draught out of his insulated sippy cup, and gestured for the other man to take the seat across from his desk. "I am."

Everyone in Atlantis had known that he drank only tea, at least apart from the too-early mornings when there'd been a crisis the night before or when he'd been up for more than twenty hours.

Lorne sat down, eyebrow still cocked. Lorne was adjusting to Earth about as well as he was, which was to say that most of the time it was just a little weird and the rest of the time it was like that Twilight Zone episode with the pretty girl and the pig-snouted people. "You working that late?"

John shook his head no. "I found good coffee here," he replied.

"Stuff back in Atlantis wasn't so bad," Lorne pointed out, leaning back. Exchanging the weight of being a battalion XO for that of being a commander of an SG team had been a load off, John thought ruefully. He understood -- being responsible for three men versus two-hundred-plus was like breathing helium at times -- but Lorne looked relaxed, to the point that John wondered guiltily if he'd been that much of a slacker back ho-- in Atlantis. "Better than the powdered shit."

The Daedalus had brought massive sacks of roasted beans to Atlantis on every trip, but between the usual rule of military supply ("remember, you're being outfitted by the lowest bidder") and time in storage and the fact that Atlantis's water just made some things taste funny, John had never bothered. Athosian tea had enough caffeine and wasn't nearly as bitter.

"I got spoiled," John said with a shrug. "Spend as much time as I did in Central and South America, you become a coffee snob."

There had been very few pleasures on those tours of duty besides the food and drink. The weather had been too hot and too humid, every flight had been target practice for the rocket-armed assholes on the ground, and there'd been very little sense of accomplishment even with the major busts because the drug problem in the States certainly wasn't getting any better.

"You gonna share your supplier or...."

John pushed his chair back and stood, crossing to the door that went into his team's room, and through to the small table where the team coffee maker rested. He didn't like automatic drips, but that's what had been there and he hadn't figured out how to requisition all the things he actually needed to fight the Ori, let alone hit up petty cash for a new machine. Plus, he wasn't sure he liked his new team enough yet to splurge out of his own pocket for one. They only got the good coffee to drink because he drank it too -- he took care of his new boys, but superior coffee was an act of affection that they hadn't quite earned yet.

"I went this morning," he explained, returning to his office with the unopened pound of beans. Italian espresso roast, the beans dark and so oily that the grounds were almost moist and would stick to the measure. He'd gotten two pounds for the team, plus one for himself that was still in his office, so there'd be what for tomorrow. He handed the pack to Lorne, who took it.

"I didn't mean to empty your stash," Lorne replied warily. John brushed off his concern and sat back down.

"Just don't kill it with sugar." Lorne took his coffee dark and sweet, which was better than light and sweet, but not by much.

"Thanks," Lorne said, looking over the label for the name of the import house. "So the reason I actually came in here...."

*sighs dreamily*

God. Dark and oily and *rich*. The smell must be amazing.

I? Would not be able to keep my hands off that coffee were I there.

*sighs*

My morning coffee (http://shop.zabars.com/on/demandware.static/WFS/Zabar-ZabarStorefront-Site/-/en_US/large/images/max_61200.jpg) (milk, no sugar)

And yes, it looks just like in the picture *smug*

Oh my GOD I HATE YOU.

You have no idea of the *horror* I am drinking right now. HOR-ROR.

God. Look at it. Red-brown highlights, glossy, *rich*. *sighs*

Made with a french press, beans ground right before....

*runs away because we had a shotgun conversation yesterday....

Damn. I don't know of any coffee porn out there, but now I seriously want to write some. Almost as much as I want some good, dark, rich coffee.

This is like staring at mud. Really sad mud.

I have a friend whose mother refers to me as "the woman who got her doctorate in mud." It's not quite true, but mud can be interesting. Bad, coffee, otoh...

- Helen

For my poor-coffee deprived brethren....

Rodney stopped, stock-still, just over the threshold of John's new apartment. Not because it was worth looking at--it wasn't, just a utilitarian white one-bedroom--but because of the smell. It was...
"Oh my God." He swallowed, hard. "What--what is that smell?"

"Coffee, Rodney." John came around the corner from the kitchen, a mug in each hand. "Real coffee. Roasted about two miles from here, this morning. Ground and pressed about five feet from you, five minutes ago." He took a long drink from one of the mugs, eyes closed in enjoyment.

John stepped much closer to Rodney, smiling as he leaned in. "Shared with you...just now." he whispered into Rodney's mouth.

The next time you come to Chicago, I will take you to Julius Meinl Cafe (http://www.meinl.com/southport/home.html), the American branch of a Viennese coffee company. It is a true experience.

And their coffee - OMG - their coffee!!!

Deep rich aromatic and flavourful, served in a gigantic cup and just.... It is to Starbucks as Starbucks is to workday coffee sludge. Yes, that good. Really.

::takes slow deep breathes to calm myself::

I haven't been there myself in a while. Parking can be a challenge, especially in the summer - it's too close to Wrigley Field.

Come to Seattle. There is a high class coffee roaster not far from where I live, and they roast their beans pretty much on the spot. Perfection. *tears up*

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That's why he goes bad, you know -- all the good people hit him on the head or try to shoot him and constantly mistrust him, while there's this vast cohort of minions saying, We wouldn't hurt you, Lex, and we'll give you power and greatness and oh so much sex...
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