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[ckbproducts09]

Top Shelf Flasks - Personalized Modern Glass Whiskey Liquor Hip Flask

[bottledpeaches]

LOVE IS CONCOCTED FROM ESTERS AND KETONES- CH.01: AVENTURINE

SYNOPSIS: he never expected to find home again.

CHARACTERS: aventurine

TAGS: bittersweet veering more towards bitterness I’m sorry guys, menace aventurine, 2.1k+ wc,

TAGLIST: @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii, @harque, @akutasoda, @flowery-jazz, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore , @lxkeeeee , @mewnekoice-mecha , @nariism

NOTES: aven fans are allergic to happiness case in point: me

special thanks to @milksnake-tea for doing the math on how much a perfume bottle costs in the hsr-verse and @akutasoda and @phantovia for letting me use their ocs aika and yeri respectively! additionally thank u to my pookies @tragedy-of-commons, @akutasoda (once again), @https-sourlimes, and @kazuhaiku for proofreading this chapter!

M.LIST | PROLOGUE | NEXT

The first of the new customers comes in on a slow Tuesday afternoon.

It’s just you and your two assistants in the shop. They’re restocking some of the bottles on the shelves and you’re in the lab as per usual, this time reformulating an old scent that didn’t sell well on its maiden voyage. You distantly hear the front door chime ring and the voices of your two assistants welcoming them.

You stare down at the flask in front of you on the table and the array of raw materials scattered around it. Eh, might as well get up and help out. You haven’t made any progress in the past half hour either. 

With a sigh, you get up and unlock the door separating your lab from the store. Your usual greeting spills from your lips like you’re on autopilot.

“Welcome, dear customer. How can I be of assistance today?”

You trip over your words a little bit at the end as you take this customer’s appearance. On first impression, it’s a bit gaudy- like a peacock trying to impress. An expensive leather coat with fur like he’s trying to flaunt his wealth and a spade cutout right in the middle of the chest like he’s trying to draw attention to it. His face is also obscured by the brim of his hat and his pink sunglasses so you sadly can’t get a glimpse of his appearance. You haven’t seen him before- you’d remember a getup like that for sure. 

“Nothing in particular. Just doing some window shopping.”

His voice is rich and syrupy like honey and it pulls you in. You don’t miss how your two shop assistants are eyeing him and you send them a look over your shoulder. They giggle under their breaths and scurry away to busy themselves around the shop. 

He picks up a black tester bottle and sprays it a couple times around his pulse points before walking around the store again. It’s pricey, but it’s a popular perfume among young men, especially those that like to party from your observations. Not surprising, considering how creamy, spicy, and decadent it smells. It’s a crowd-pleaser. 

One of your assistants, Aika, passes by with a box of perfume bottles that you received in an earlier shipment. She pauses and gives you a mischievous look. 

“He’s hot,” she whispers as he passes by. “Looks like he’s interested in you too. I see him eyeing you up. Don’t pretend like you haven’t either.”

You merely glare at her, which she laughs at. He gives you a knowing look and a wink, further proving her point. You pointedly ignore it. 

He seems happy with how the scent reacts with his skin chemistry and the dry down because he walks back to grab a bottle before setting it down by the register. You pause what you’re doing in the meantime to ring him up. 

He hands his card over without a second thought. Black card, you note as you swipe it. It’s got some weight to it too. You catch a glimpse of the name on the card and the IPC logo in the corner before handing it back to him. Aventurine, of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department. Now you have a name and affiliation to go with the face as well. 

When you hand his card back, his gloved fingers ghost over your hand for a second longer than necessary. The warmth of his hand seeps through the thin leather and you have to force yourself to ignore it and bid him goodbye. 

Another one of your shop assistants watches him go as well.

“You know, he didn’t seem like he particularly loved that perfume. Maybe he bought it just to get close to you?”

“Yeri…”

“Just saying. Don’t act like you didn’t notice it too.”

After that, he doesn’t leave you alone. You quickly learn that he’s an IPC executive, which takes you by surprise with how he’s attached to your hip at any given time. He’s still busy with work, but he spends a lot more time at your store than you’d expect- at least a visit or two every week. He always leaves with something as well. At this rate he’s going to have a bottle of every perfume in your store…

“He’s more like a… how do I put it? He’s more like a… clingy stray cat that you took pity on one day and it wouldn’t leave your side after that,” you complained to your shop assistants one day during lunch. Aika snorts and steals a bite of your food. 

“No harm in playing along with him. He’s rich, after all. Savor this opportunity.”

He also likes to flirt with you and hog up all your free time. He’ll walk in with a loud declaration of “(Name)! I’m back!” and wrap his arms around your shoulders and waist the moment he sees you. Over time, you’ve gotten used to it and you’ll do business as usual with a grown man clinging to you like some house cat. 

(Your shop assistants still tease you relentlessly though.)

In return, you turn him into your unofficial guinea pig to test your upcoming perfumes on. He doesn’t mind. In fact, he seems to take pride in it. 

You gently grab his wrist and spray something onto the exposed skin. He doesn’t resist- just lets you do your thing.

“Tell me your thoughts.”

“My friend, you already know what I’m going to say. Everything and anything you create is bound to sell out. When it comes to storytelling, your nose is unmatched.”

“Give me real constructive criticism, Aventurine. Stop trying to butter me up.”

“I’m being honest here!”

With the frequency of his visits, the distance between you quickly closes. He insists you refer to him by his name without any prefixes. You don’t particularly care what he refers to you by, but you’ll frequently catch him on the phone talking about “his beloved perfumer”. 

One day when there are no customers in the shop, he comes in. There’s no loud proclamation of your name or the now-familiar sound of expensive leather shoes against the floor as he searches for you. He looks a little different as well. His hat is gone, as well as his pink sunglasses, letting you see his face unobstructed for the first time.

His eyes. They’re the first thing to draw you in. They’re a hypnotizing shade of magenta and blue that you’ve never seen before. 

What pretty eyes, you think. But you avert your gaze in case he catches you staring. Strangely enough, he doesn’t meet your gaze. He takes a particular interest in the view outside the window even though he’s seen it a million times already. 

You hand him a faceted golden bottle. The turquoise liquid inside swirls slightly as he examines it. A thin turquoise band runs around the circumference of the bottle and he hesitates. It looks a little familiar, for some reason…

“This is a new scent I created recently. Smell it and tell me your thoughts.”

He sprays it on his wrists before tentatively taking a whiff. Instantly, the scent of bergamot and the sea hits him.

No, the smell of home hits him. There’s a faint citrusy smell that smells vaguely familiar to a hardy fruit that bloomed on the scraggly trees during the spring and the earthy scent of sand hits him like a punch to the gut. He can still recall the sensation of the sand stinging his eyes from the harsh solar winds and how despite his sister’s best efforts, he could never fully get it out of his clothes and hair. It stuck to him like a second skin. 

Sometimes, he finds himself wishing that he could’ve filled a bottle with sand and brought it with him so he’d always carry part of home, especially on those lonely nights. 

Then comes the rain.

He can hear the sound of the rain hitting the rooftop of the tent he called home as a child where he’d celebrate a few lonesome birthdays, followed by the stench of iron and rot and the sickening squelch of his footsteps in the drenched sand as he flees, leaving everything he’s known and loved behind. 

For some reason, he can taste the saltiness of the sea as well. But on a planet as desolate and barren as Sigonia-IV, there are no bodies of water. Is it the ocean or rather his tears instead?

He rubs his wrists together to make the top notes and memories dissipate faster. They fade to something richer and deeper, more opulent and decadent. More fitting for who he is now. The spicy scent of expensive alcohol is both familiar and sickening. 

There’s a new syrupy sweet scent that emerges that meshes so well with the alcohol he almost doesn’t realize it’s there until he takes a second whiff. His eyes widen and he almost chokes on it.

Honey. It’s the sugary sweet scent of honey. 

Even now, he still can’t escape his past.

He picks up on a resinous scent and if the honey made him feel nauseous, then the scent of amber makes him sick to his stomach. All for the Amber Lord. That damned phrase reminds him that he still isn’t free, imprisoned by gold and jewels instead of chains and shackles now. 

The decadence and richness of the top notes have died down and it now smells warm and intimate, like a hug from a loved one. He thinks of his sister and the long nights he’d spent cuddled into her side to stave off the extreme cold. He can’t remember what her voice sounds like anymore, or what she smelled like, or how she even looked. But he remembers how safe, how loved, he felt in her embrace. 

He hates every aspect of the scent. It’s too close for comfort. (Did you enlist the help of a Memokeeper for this?)

But he loves it at the same time. He’s heard the stories of how your perfumes are stories in their own rights, shifting from one scent to another to evoke foreign yet familiar emotions in the hearts of their wearers. He’s enjoyed all your perfumes so far, but hasn’t found something that really resonated with him up until now. Clearly, he’s underestimated your nose.

You fidget a bit, a little unnerved at his silence. He always has something to say. For him to be silent is so uncharacteristic. 

“So… how is it?”

He continues to stay silent. His chest feels tight and his left hand has subconsciously clenched into a fist behind his back. 

“I’ll take your entire stock.”

The words make it past the lump in his throat and he forces a smile. 

You freeze.

“Sorry?”

“You heard me. I’ll take your entire stock.”

“... It’s still under development though…”

“I don’t care. Just don’t release it to the general public. How much per bottle?”

“The same as the rest of them. 112,000 credits for the full size.” 

To your surprise, he hands his card over without a second word. After a moment of hesitation, you swipe it. The little ding tells you the transaction went through. Most, if not all, of your customers are wealthy. They have to be in order to afford your perfumes. But the top one percent of the one percent… they really are in a different realm. 

“You do subscription services, right?”

Dumbfounded, all you can do is nod. He lets out a satisfied hum.

“Perfect. Sign me up for it.”

Sensing your shock, Yeri graciously takes over for you while you head to the back to process what just happened. This scent was just you messing around! If you did end up selling it, it would’ve only been in limited quantities because of how… unique it smells. Not as unique compared to some of your wares, but niche enough to separate it from your more palatable scents. 

Yet here you are with a man that has already paid for and demanded several bottles… Better get to work then. 

Your shop assistants have already finished processing the transaction and Aventurine is standing outside the store now. He gingerly lifts the bottle out from its packaging and sprays it a few times onto his pulse points. He knows he’s being greedy by hoarding all the bottles and not letting anyone else have it, but he doesn’t care. The delusional side of him thinks there’s no way this fragrance WASN’T crafted for him specifically. The notes, the bottle design, everything. 

Fabric holds scent longer than skin does. His mind drifts to the old rag that was his father’s, safely stored away.

He won’t be able to return home for a long while. But this perfume must be what it’ll feel like when that day finally comes and his time runs out.

PERFUME NOTES (yes I am making a perfume for every character):

TOP NOTES: bergamot, petrichor, sand, sea notes

MIDDLE NOTES: tonka bean, sandalwood, vanilla, rum, bourbon, whiskey

BASE NOTES: honey, amber, skin musk, iso e super

INSPIRATION: Versace Eros, Initio Psychedelic Love, and Initio Side Effect

enjoyed this? the taglist is open!

@ bottledpeaches, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[thestartome]

This pose was a private commission exclusively for Team-Flask @teamflasksims4stories to use in their story Heart Strings.

Thank you, dear Jodie and Carly, for this opportunity and honor to aid you on your journey and for entrusting me to bring to life such poses for your beautiful characters! I also wish to thank you for protecting artists, including myself. We must not let the thieves inhibit the communities creativity and collaborations!

There shall always be a candle in the dark. ✨🕯️✨

Poses and Render: @thestartome

Custom guitar swatch for my personal use, not available.

The wonderful custom content creators featured:

Below the cut for links!

Morgyns eyes @sugarowl https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-eyecolors/title/betelgeuse-eyes-2/id/1429022/

Morgyns teeth @redearcat https://redearcat.tumblr.com/post/185363187758/teeth1-maxis-match-new-mesh-human-alien

Morgyns hat @strangestorytellersims https://www.tumblr.com/strangestorytellersims/187727277493/cavalier-hat-v1-by-ssts-teen-to-elder-hat?source=share

Morgyns shirt @zeussim https://www.patreon.com/posts/lestats-lover-65173526

Morgyns skeleton hand jewelry @bellassims https://bellassims.tumblr.com/post/666885916328116224/moving-on-to-day-four-of-simblreen-you-can-have

Morgyns nails @pralinesims https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-sets-accessories/title/nail-pack-for-men/id/1338742/

Morgyns boots https://strangestorytellersims.tumblr.com/post/630652020846690304/adventurer-set-v1-by-ssts-teen-to-elder-2-vests

Guitar @studio-k-creation https://studio-k-creation.tumblr.com/post/164092198593/basic-handle-guitar-news4cc-standalone-new

Skeletons microphones https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-objects-furnishing-decor-sculptures/title/vintage-microphone/id/1525393/

Skeletons hats @evellsims https://www.patreon.com/posts/witching-hour-73375022

Skeletons eyes https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-eyecolors/title/monster-eyes/id/1638511/

Skeletons blouses https://www.tumblr.com/evellsims/638282944116621312/sorrow-accessory-top?source=share

Skeletons skirts @goodchillsstudio https://www.patreon.com/posts/gcs-augusts-cc-55166514

[rezingrave]

Olga Romanoff or The Syren of the Skies (1894) by George Griffith

Hi I'm Rez. I like mind control. I like weird old stories. Sometimes in my travels I encounter things that encompass both. Here's my little attempt to preserve some forgotten history.

“Alas, poor Serge!” she said, as the door closed behind him; “you are not the first man who has lost the empire of the world for a woman’s kiss. Before, I saw that you were my equal and helpmate, now you and all other men—yes, not even excepting he who seems so far above me now—shall be my slaves and do my bidding, so blindly that they shall not even know they are doing it. “Yes, the weapons of war are worth much, but what are they in comparison with the souls of the men who will have to use them!”

There are few things I love more than an evil woman. A ruthless mad chemist lady using mind control to get her revenge– revenge which involves becoming the unquestioned dictator of Earth? Be still my beating heart!

Unfortunately, here, this comes with some... caveats...

Listen, the days of science fiction before H.G. Wells were dark times. For a short period, before Wells and his sensitive, witty commentary on human nature, the most popular author of the scientific romance was one George Griffith. And he… was certainly a product of his time.

Just look at this fuckin guy

Olga Romanoff is the villain protagonist of this tale; the last of the Russian dynasty, her family disgraced by the conquering of Earth by the Aerians– a nation that developed airships and promptly used their newfound power to cow the world into its get-along shirt (they’re the good guys, you see)(yes the name is super yikes also).

When Olga’s father dies, she inherits the recipe for a mind control elixir, a “will-poison” which, as any enterprising villainess ought, she promptly brews and uses on two Aerian men and her simpering loyal-dog cousin-fiancé to turn them into her obedient slaves (yes it is all but explicit that she fucks them).

Mocking voices spoke to her out of the night, and told her of the unholy love that such a woman would, in the plenitude of her unnatural power, have for such a man; how she would subdue him, and make him not only her lover but her slave; how she would humble his splendid manhood, and play with him until her evil fancy was sated, and then cast him aside—as she had done—like a toy of which she had tired.

The scene where Olga uses the potion on her fiancé is unabashedly awesome, so I will put the whole thing here for your reading pleasure.

From Olga Romanoff, Chapter VII. The Spell of Circe

Just before midnight, Olga proposed that, in accordance with the ancient custom of Russia, they should drink a glass of punch, brewed in the Russian style; and as she volunteered to brew it herself, it is needless to say that the invitation was at once accepted.

The apparatus stood upon a little table in one corner of the room. For a single minute her back was turned to the three sitting at the table in the centre; her share in the conversation was not interrupted for an instant, and no one saw a couple of drops of sparkling, blue liquid fall into each of three of the glasses from the little flask that she held concealed in the palm of her hand, and when she turned round with the little silver tray on which the glasses stood, the flask was resting at the bottom of her dress-pocket.

She handed a glass to each of them, and then took her own up from the side-table where she had left it. She went to her place, and, holding her glass up, said simply—

“Here’s to that which each of us has nearest at heart!” and drank.

All followed suit, and as the clock chimed twelve a few minutes later, the two Aerians took their leave, and left Olga and Serge alone.

“You said you would begin your share of the work to-night,” said he, as soon as they were alone. “Have you done so?”

“If you do your work to-morrow as successfully as I have done mine to-night,” replied Olga, looking steadily into his eyes as she spoke, “the Empire of the Air will no longer be theirs.”

Serge returned her glance in silence. He wanted to speak, but some superior power seemed to have laid a spell upon his will, and as long as Olga’s burning eyes were fixed on his, his tongue was paralysed, nay, more than this, his mind even refused to shape the sentences that he would have liked to speak. Olga held him mute before her for several minutes, and then she said quietly, still keeping her eyes fixed on his—

“Now speak, and tell me what you would do if I told you that I preferred Alan as a lover to you, and that I would rather a thousand times be his slave and plaything than your wife.”

“I should say that you are the mistress of my destiny, that I have no law but your will, and that it is for you to give me joy or pain, as seems good to you.”

Serge spoke the unnatural words in a calm, passionless tone, rather as though he were speaking in a sort of hypnotic trance than in full command of his senses. A strange, subtle influence had been stealing through his veins and over his nerves ever since he had drunk the liquor which Olga had prepared.

He seemed perfectly incapable of resisting any suggestion that might have been made to him. His will was paralysed, but even the consciousness of this fact was fading from his mind. All his passions were absolutely in abeyance. Even his love for Olga failed to inspire him with any jealous resentment of words which half an hour before would have goaded him to frenzy. He heard them as though they concerned someone else.

The ruin of his life’s hopes, which they implied so distinctly, had no meaning for him; so far as his volition was concerned he was an automaton, ready to obey without question the dictates of her imperious will.

“That will do,” said Olga, in the tone of a mistress addressing a servant. “Now go to bed and sleep well, and remember the work that lies before you to-morrow.”

“I will,” said Serge, and without another word, without attempting to take his customary good-night kiss, he walked out of the room, leaving her to the enjoyment of her victory and the contemplation of triumphs that now seemed almost certain to her.

Olga Romanoff is not a good book. Olga is not a complex character. But she lights up the little atavistic (to use a favored problematic term of the era) center of my brain, like, yessss evil mad scientist girl with a callous disregard for other people’s autonomy! Yessss she makes bubbling concoctions to make men her slaves and toys!! Yesss she’s an evil dictator who rules a ship called the Revenge with an iron fist and kills anyone who stands in her way!!! Bisexual femdom queen!

 into an empire such as she longed to rule over,—an empire in which men should be her slaves and women her handmaidens. 

But sad to say, dear reader, unless you also happen to have a fetish for airship battles, the bulk of this book will not appeal to you. I’ll confess my great sin now: I did not read Olga in its entirety. Sorry! It’s mostly really boring! I don’t give a fuck about the future-war!

And yet– I think about Olga a lot. 

“Yes, yes,” she replied. “I know that; but I did not weary of this man, this king among men, for whose love I would have sold my soul. I only wearied of my own attempts to win it… “You know that when he seemed my lover he was only my slave—that I could not compel the man to love me, but only the passive machine that I had made of him, and you know, too, that the moment I had let him regain his freedom of will he would have loathed and cursed me, as no doubt he is doing now.

Olga is in love with Alan Arnold, the Aerian man she had held in thrall. He and his companion escape, and she spends the rest of the novel, between her war-maneuvering, pining after him, bitterly rebuking him, trying to fill the gaping hole in her heart with an alliance by a Muslim Sultan (which is about as tasteful as one would expect).

But even more bitter than this was the thought of meeting, not only as a freeman, but as the commander of the Aerian navy, the man who but a few days ago had been her docile, unresisting slave, robbed of the highest attribute of his manhood by the Circe-spell that she had cast over him, and which she now knew was broken for ever.

Olga grows more miserable the more powerful she becomes; despite her ruthless streak, she is plagued by insecurity and madness. Even though he is deeply loyal and in love with her, Olga uses the mind control potion on her new, not-Alan husband at the dawn of the final air-ship battle.

Pitiless and without scruple to the end, Olga, while she was recovering from her wound under the shelter of the Sultan’s roof, had managed, with the aid of her waiting-woman Anna, not only to poison the Grand Vizier Musa and Hakem the astronomer, but also to bring Khalid himself into the same state of moral slavery in which she had so long held Alan and Alexis. It was she who had brought this fleet from Alexandria to Aeria. Once under the fatal spell of her will-poison, she had commanded Khalid to revoke the orders that he had given for peace, and he had obeyed. A fleet of more than five hundred air-ships had been collected, and, taking Khalid with her on board the Revenge, so that there should be no chance of his recovering his volition, she had come to fulfil the prophecy which Paul Romanoff uttered when in the last hour of his life he had declared that one day the Eagle of Russia should fly over the battlements of Aeria.

But there is a great comet coming, foretold in prophecy. Olga and the Sultan flee to Olga’s Antarctic stronghold (which she has– awesome) and the story ends with the remaining Aerians finding her there, consumed by madness shuttered with the corpse of the Sultan, convinced that Alan is dead and haunting her.

Olga Romanoff had survived the doom of the world, but the hand of a just vengeance had fallen heavily upon her. Her once splendid form was shrunken as though three score years had passed over her in as many hours. Her left side was half paralysed and her shaking limbs hung loosely as she tottered along.Olga Romanoff had survived the doom of the world, but the hand of a just vengeance had fallen heavily upon her. Her once splendid form was shrunken as though three score years had passed over her in as many hours. Her left side was half paralysed and her shaking limbs hung loosely as she tottered along.

The world of Olga Romanoff is a distressingly, suffocatingly proto-fascist one; a genteel fantasy about the Big Strong Superiors so very kindly spreading their superior and prosperous society… but also bro, they’re sooo strong, they will totally fuck you up.

And then there’s Olga. Olga is an aberration. Olga is powerful, but not through her might or her stature. Olga Romanoff is clever and pretty. Olga is here to use her feminine wiles to get what she wants (world domination). The system is not one that can handle deviance; it swiftly falls to pieces.

The Masters of the World were supreme no longer, for a new power had arisen which, within the limits of the seas, had proved itself stronger than they were. Communication between continent and continent had almost ceased, save where the Aerian air-ships were employed. In six short years the peace of the world had been destroyed and the stability of society shaken. Among the nations of Anglo-Saxondom the change had manifested itself by a swift decadence into the worst forms of unbridled democracy. Men’s minds were unhinged, and the most extravagant opinions found acceptance.

Of course Olga is punished for this; of course we are supposed to hate her, and at most pity her in the end. This is a deeply moralizing novel, but Olga still shines as something right and true, a legitimate anger that can take down the most indestructible of foes. Most people will not forgive her for the mind control rape, but I will; I think she should do more of it.

I think Olga should have her empire built on the backs of brutal disregard for human autonomy, her slaves and her handmaidens, and she should suffocate in her loneliness at the top of the world because I think that shit’s hot!

“And you, my splendid Alan, before to-morrow night you shall be at my feet! Two drops of this, and that proud, strong soul of yours shall melt away like a snowflake under warm rain, and you shall be my slave and do my bidding, and never know that you are not as free as you are now."

If you want more context on the novel, its predecessor the Angel of the Revolution, and George Griffth himself, check out the Apocalist Book Club episode on this book.

Olga Romanoff can be found on Project Gutenberg & Librivox

[musickool]

Headcanon: Holiday Gifts for Keanu's characters.

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ス ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ ꒱ ‧ ₊˚

ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛

the *stoner accent* murst happy cheery boy on xmas!

he loves, LOVES gifts

christmas is one of his most favourite holidays, or in fact, IS his favourite holiday; halloween just being a close second

not just cause of the food

or the snow

the bodacious music or jolly vibes

or the free school holidays so he won't need to do stupid bogus history homework

but because of the presents!

ted would absolutely love if you gifted him something for christmas

it doesn't have to be elaborate or big, but something that a neurodivergent (/j) rock-enthusiast weird kid like him would like

custom guitar picks, comic books, a bucket of tutti-fruity bubblegum & cheese puffs, cute little stickers, fruit-flavoured candy (not too much though as they hurt his teefies), a nintendo gameboy, drawing books....

he'd also like makeup, like black eyeliner & eyeshadow and a couple of nail polish so him and bill can use for their wyld stallyns performances

gift him some eddie van halen posters, cds, keyrings, trinkets, or any of that paranphelia and he'll worship you for life

oh yeah, he don't play around with his eddie van halen

less you forget that

he'll also love tapes and cds and merch of other rock bands he adores

RUBIX CUBE! he'll love a mean rubix cube as his personal fidget toy 🥺

ted's very easy to please, just don't buy him an air supply or beatles vinyl album

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒

antithesis of ted

this man is the grunge adaptation of scrooge, but with less hate and more indifference

doesn't really care about xmas

mostly thinks it's for kids

giving gifts to this guy will be a little bit hard because this man is such a depressed little nihilist sometimes

he'll scoff and bluff, but deep down his emotions speaks otherwise

he never really states what he like or anything personal about him - he's a very private man with only one thing on his mind (lyke idk saving the world from satan and the apocalypse ???)

but what you do know about him is that this man is a chronic smoker

john would definitely fw a silver plated lighter

like the vivienne westwood ones

or a custom black one with his initials on it

he also drinks a lot of whiskey

jack daniel's? jim beam bourbon? jameson?

pair that up with a leather hip flask and he's good to go

silver jewellery type of guy? mhm!

he'd love a cross chain necklace

like deep-silver cross/crucifix pendant ones

would look so fucking cool on him

silver accessories always look so hot on daddy constantine

other than that, nothing much

he's not invested in xmas but he doesn't hate it

his mind will be more occupied on demon hunting and existential brainrots than that

yet he still has a soft spot (secretly) so xmas with him won't be so bleeping bad

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘

pretty normal about xmas

celebrating with him would be so freaking wholesome though

you're so used to seeing john as his stoic dilf self that him being all lovely with you during this jolly season would be a fever dream

giving him gifts would be, again, pretty normal

he's a simple guy, and already rich enough to buy himself whatever, after all, so your xmas shopping spend will be looking pretty alright

john is a traditional manly man so his gifts would be of that orient

he's also a bit old so keep that in mind...

brown leather-strapped watch, woody oak cologne, men's grooming set, a brand new dog that won't randomly disappear after a few months

john is a bookworm, he'd love some good ol' classic fiction novels and philosophical/critical/mindfuck books to open up and out his mind

he's a handy man so a brand-new toolbox would be nice

he's also a lover of whiskey and wine, so again, some jack daniel's or bourbon and malboc or pinot noir

this would be the funniest shit ever but please gift this man a pencil as a joke

i swear he'll be so oblivious at first but when he clocks, this mf will death stare you like hell whilst you try so hard to not burst into laughter

but on a wholesome note, a ring will put a smile right back onto that man's face

like cute couple rings you and him can wear, like he'll smile so hard

a heart locket necklace with a picture of you and him inside

oh he'll absolutely die inside

john's such a sucker for classic romance, you don't understand

he'll love vinyl records of 70s and 80s vintage classics, taking him back to his younger days

john will cherish these well... 💌

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛��

the very antithesis of ted

this man is scrooge

does not not care about xmas and probably never will

"mindless fucking consumerism"

he definitely thinks that shit is for kids

gifts for this guy will be as hard as an harvard acceptance letter

90% of the time this man is never really happy

he's either miserable or annoying or insulting or all at the same time

he would, however, accept it, if it's from you

but johnny never tells personal information

he's a very egotistical individual so the most personal you'll get from him is the edge of how big his c*ck is (*facepalms.png*)

𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎

another happy cheery boy on xmas

and another favourite himbo of mine 💘

he obviously loves xmas

it's the only time he won't have to be digging under trash heaps for diamonds

he's a very weird and random kid so you know he'll like anything

finding a xmas present for him would be easy cause as long as the shit's entertaining, he's pretty much on board

and it's the 80s, so what really can a broke teenage runaway enjoy back then?

but anyways, that's whatever

rupert would definitely like these as gifts: comic books, candy, shakespeare novels, an eight ball, rubix cube, wristbands, money, a crown (???)-

SLIME! give the boy some green slime to play with! (helps with his stims)

*murmuring* why can i imagine him in a skir- yeah give this boy a skirt

and a skateboard

gnarly combination

𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜/𝑗𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟

basic as fuck

these dudes are like the hallmarks of xmas

both are different genres of white men in hallmark-esque movies

standard white guy, 30-something year old millennial who's into sports and having a beer with the boys vs twink stock image standard white man who's a doctor and every old karen white woman's dream come true

one, however, is more generic and conventionally attractive hallmark white male than the other (julian)

shane's a manly man so he'd probably like some fishing equipment or men's grooming kit or some kind of sports team merch

he'd also like those beer keg stands or mini fridges where he can put his infinite supply of heineken or guiness inside

a handy man also so a nice new toolbox too

julian...... yeah julian i don't actually know about

he's probably just bisexual or something, idk-

that's about it.

[ravs6709]

Cross The Line (Out Of The Grey)- Keefex

word count: 1.4k words

Hiiii! @thelavendernarwhal , I'm your secret santa <3 for the exchange ran by @song-tam !! You said otp is keefex, and I happen to be longtime keefex shipper since 2018 (i havent written for them in forever... god this feels so nostalgic).

Admittedly a bit more fluff rather than hurt/comfort, but I did try and sprinkle in a bit. Plus a fantasy au (since for some reason ive never done one before???). So hope you enjoy this prince!keefe x commoner dex !!!

warnings: none

•~•~•~•~•~•

"For all of the rumors of your stealth, you're not exactly subtle," Dex said, carefully pouring an elixir in a flask to store for later, not bothering to turn around. "Put that one down, that's for one of my dad's customers."

"You can't possibly know it's me," Keefe said with a whine, probably pouting.

"I can recognize your footsteps, you know."

"What?"

"You walk pretty quiet, since you sneak around a lot. But there's there's a sense of order in your footsteps, your princely gait or whatever." He put a lid on the flask and set it down, turning to Keefe. As expected, he was pouting. "What are you doing here?"

Keefe seemed to take his empty hands as a cue to approach, wrapping his hands around his waist and nuzzling his shoulder. "Can't I come visit my favourite alchemist?"

"You've been visiting a lot recently," Dex replied, hugging him back. "Isn't your coronation in less than a week?"

"Mhm," Keefe hummed, squeezing him tighter.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for it?"

Surprisingly, he pulled back, an odd look on his face. "Is my 'princely gait' really that obvious?"

"Eh, probably not," he replied, pulling away. Keefe pouted again, but Dex ruffled his hair, ignoring the protesting squawk. "I'm probably one of the few commoners who would keep track of that kind of thing. I learned to differentiate between each of the triplets' footsteps so I could know which one of them was sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. Plus, I've known you long enough to know your steps."

"Ah," Keefe grinned, and Dex immediately had regrets. "You pay that much attention to me, hm?"

"Shh," Dex said very creatively. He leaned in, quickly stunning him with a peck on the cheek, buying himself enough to recover. He went back to his flasks, placing them in their transport container, then handed it to Keefe to carry. "Hey, why'd you ask that, anyway?"

"You think anyone else would recognize I'm royalty?"

"You've been visiting me for—how many months now?" Dex asked, loading up another transport container. "Told you, I know you. You should get to your point."

"I was thinking—of running away. And living with you. Forever."

Dex nearly dropped the flasks. 'Get to your point', damn, he needed to watch his words next time. He should've known Keefe would pull something this dramatic, with all the lead-up.

Forever...

He cleared his throat, rushing to the exit, beckoning Keefe to follow. "Well—first of all, if you want to live with me, you'd have to be approved by my family. They like you, yeah, but they don't actually know that—"

"I told them, already."

He nearly stumbled on a rock. "Oh." Well, totally his fault for starting this conversation while carrying elixirs. "You told them? How'd they react?"

"Well, obviously, they adore me." Dex rolled his eyes, despite the fact that Keefe wasn't able to see his face. Well, he wasn't wrong, his parents did adore him. "But they already knew."

"...they what?"

"They knew," Keefe repeated.

Dex tried to scan his memories for any signs that his any of his family members had known. His parents had been a bit giggly, but he'd assumed it was because of the fact that Keefe was the first one he'd really fallen in love with, and so they tried to give the talk to him, as if he was thirteen and not eighteen. (Plus—hearing about men's anatomy gave way too much insight into his parents' life which. Gross. He really could have gone without knowing).

"And the triplets?" Dex asked, deciding that it wasn't that unreasonable that his parents knew that Keefe had been a prince all along.

"They knew too. Or, well, suspected. They had a bet going on, or something like that."

He opened his mouth, but then shut it. "Well, my family's approval is hardly an issue. The bigger issue is you running away. What about the throne?"

"As if Mommy and Daddy Dearest would ever let me actually rule fairly," Keefe snorted. "I'm pretty sure my mom plans to have him assassinated after I get crowned as king, and she'll try and control me from the shadows or whatever creepy stuff she plans."

"That doesn't sound like the thing you'd let stop you," Dex hummed.

"Well, I always go after what I want," he replied. "I think I planned to be king to lessen their influence, but honestly, ruling is hardly my thing. Too much work. Foster and Fitz would do a much better job anyway, and they're both already in high enough positions that it wouldn't be unfair if they either ruled themselves or changed this whole thing up."

Dex opened the back door to the apothecary, placing the container he'd been carrying down, Keefe placing the other one down too.

"...you're serious about this?" Dex asked, turning to Keefe.

Keefe was already staring at him. He took a step closer, and Dex sucked in a breath. "I'm always serious about what I want. And I'll say it again—I want to live with you. Forever. In this tiny apothecary, even if the sheets aren't to my standards, even if I'll have to work hard every day." He took one of Dex's hands in his, planting a kiss against callused fingertips.

"This sounds like a marriage proposal," Dex mumbled, looking away.

"It sorta is. But more than that, it's me saying that this is what I really want, that I want us to finally act on our feelings."

Dex felt his heart thumping. He'd been wanting the same thing too—he'd been aching for it, tired of the fact that they'd been walking a fine line of acknowledging their mutual feelings for each other but never really acting on them. A line that had grown thinner over the months as even he couldn't help but initiate affection. He knew that he was the one who had said to wait, but even he couldn't stay in this grey area anymore.

"You're really planning to leave your royal status?" Dex asked. "I mean, if you wait a bit more, my inventions would take more notice and my own status would rise and—"

"Shh," Keefe hummed, planting a finger over his lips. "You think I care about status, really? You don't have anything you need to prove. Not to the world, and not to me either. While your inventions are super cool, you don't need them to keep my attention, y'know."

Dex didn't say anything. He looked away, embarrassed to hear those words directed at him.

"Ah ah ah, none of that," Keefe chided, tapping his chin, and Dex reluctantly raised his gaze to ice blue eyes. "Eyes on me. You're always forcing good self-esteem on me, taking care of me and all that, so that means that you're not allowed to go all self-doubt on me. I'm madly in love with you. You know that, right?"

"You've only professed it at least once per visit since you first confessed."

"Hm, only that much? Gotta step up my game... But again, my point is that you already captured my poor heart by being nothing but yourself. So you don't need to do any weird stuff like try and prove you're worthy of me by making contributions to the world. I mean, if you wanna do that, I'll support you all the way and be your faithful househusband while you work on the outside---"

"I thought you said you were willing to do hard work?" Dex asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shh. Being a househusband is hard work, don't undermine the commoner's struggles. But again, you don't have to do anything super grand in order to feel good about yourself. I love you anyway."

Dex groaned, pulling him into a hug, burying his face into the crook of his neck. "You are a sap, you know that? I love you so much."

He felt all the tension seep out of him as Keefe hugged him back, and they held each other for a few minutes. Honestly, Dex couldn't believe it sometimes, that he'd somehow stolen Keefe's heart. It still felt so unreal. He still remembered being twelve and lonely. But Keefe was here, had been here for a year and a half, he loved Dex, and this was everything that he had ever wanted.

"I love you," Keefe repeated, pulling back a bit, cradling his cheeks. "Can I?"

"Yeah," Dex whispered, and for the first time, let their lips meet.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Kotlc taglist: @my-swan-song, @stellarune, @impostertamsong, @subrosasteath, @autistic-daydreamer

Want to be added/removed from the kotlc taglist? Just let me know!

I've written a lot of kotlc!! You can find a masterlist of kotlc fics here <3

[garmgeyr]

GARMGEYR | Gallagher affiliated with Gnostic Hymns | PINNED

[ Basics ] [ Mun ] [ Headcanons ]

Notes:

Penned by Ree. They/them, 25+ years. I really only join the GH server during events so the best way to contact me is through Tumblr IMs, replies, or Discord DMs. I'm caught up with Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail, but what I know about Honkai Impact 3rd has been absorbed through osmosis. I currently also write Wriothesley and Boothill.

ABOUT GALLAGHER (spoiler-free version): Gallagher is a security officer from the Bloodhound family and a dreamscape drinksmith. He presents himself as a disorganized, tired, middle-aged man with no other remarkable qualities, although the scars on his arm have won him some prestige within the Family. While blunt and often crass, he is polite to guests visiting Penacony, kind to those he considers friends, and charismatic with customers. He can be found just about anywhere in the dreamscape and loves making new drink concoctions.

ABOUT GALLAGHER (2.2 spoilers): Gallagher is not human and maintains a fictional persona that does not actually exist in Penacony's history. While he should have disappeared after being discovered as a lie, he has a nebulous existence in GH that I've been likening to that of Santa Claus: if a character believes that he's real against the information they've been given, then "Gallagher" still exists to them, but if they don't, then he's just some stranger (this is irrelevant to characters who have never met him in canon). It's likely that there was a persona that came before "Gallagher," and one that comes after him as well, but I'm not going to speculate too much about who or what they are. For now this mysterious figure is holding on to "Gallagher" as their identity because they've been living this life for so long. He is still primarily a dreamscape drinksmith, but will take up his old disguise as a Bloodhound when situations call for it. Even though realistically, he would change his name and appearance when traveling elsewhere, for simplicity's sake in GH, he will generally retain both. Expanded information can be found in this post and this post.

DUB: I base my characterization and dialogue on Mikami Satoshi's performance.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Gallagher possesses the traits of an alcoholic even though he's usually depicted drinking soda. In Penacony, SoulGlad has similar effects to alcohol (and also cocaine, as a nod to Coca-Cola's history), but since canon doesn't show him clearly intoxicated, this usually won't be included in my threads either. The extent of it will be general drowsiness and drinking from a flask. I will tag alcohol and intoxication upon request, and will always talk to my partners about their limits.

TRIGGERS: I have none but will respect my partner's boundaries.

NSFW: Sexual NSFW is a no, and graphic descriptions of gore will be kept to a minimum.

POST FORMATTING: I use small text but nothing else. I don't care how my partner formats their posts as long as it's legible. I'm here to RP so readability > aesthetic.

INBOX & PLOTTING: Always open for new things, so hit me up if you have an idea or just want to drop by Gallagher's inbox to say hello.

SHIPPING: Naturally, I lean more toward shipping with muns I know well OOC. Communication is absolutely important for things like this and I prefer to have rapport built both OOC and IC before committing to anything. I like writing slow burns that take months, if not years, and usually this goes hand in hand with getting to know my partner better OOC too. I write Gallagher as being solely interested in men romantically, and that he loved Mikhail (platonically, but romantically is on the table depending on mun comfort - this will NOT extend to Misha). While a relationship is not his priority, he is open to one; however, given his appearance and his age, I would personally like to avoid any sort of romantically-flavored interactions with characters who look like children or teenagers, regardless of how old they actually are. Currently: not in a relationship

[atlasfontaine]

TW: Vomit, sickness

And I began to hate Lewis for this, I hated him for being so damn likable.

So as I promised, I snuck out in the dead of night with an overcoat and rushed through the dead city and back into the alleyway. I amazed myself at how I remembered how to get to the nearly fallen apartment and made my way up the stairs and knocked upon the door. 

It creaked open and Lewis, with puffy and almost sickly eyes, looked up at me and muttered.

''A little late for choking one out don't you think?''

I grinned, his darkened humor took away all the dread that climbed into my heart, and like a breath of opium he filled me with delirious desires, and I stared at him with a sparkle that climbed into my eyes. 

''I married her, Lewis! I married her!''

''Congratulations my dear William,'' he climbed slowly around the door and blinked hazily,'' so, why are you here?''

''Aren't you happy to see me?''

''Frightfully so William, if I didn't have a fever I'd order you to make love to me right now. Alas, I'm weak with delirium, and I have a headache. Do come visit tomorrow.''

He began to close the door but I held it open and gave a frightful grin,'' Please do not joke as such Lewis. Do you love me? Am I just like the other men you see? Am I different from them? I could swear you were about to admit your love to me on the first day we met, was I imagining things Lewis?''

''Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't,'' Lewis closed his eyes as if our interaction annoyed him,'' it's dangerous to seduce a married man. They'll take my head. The people already hate me.''

''How could anyone hate you Lewis?'' I saw his brow raise and he turned towards me and scoffed.

''S'pose they don't like roses.''

''Suppose they don't like the way you dance along the streets laying kisses on unsuspecting people.''

''Touche,'' his lips curled deviously and his eyes glimmered,'' I have changed my mind, do come in, I'm feeling quite frisky right about now.''

He opened the door and I strode in slowly and as soon as Lewis closed the door I could hear his stomach gurgle sickly and he covered his mouth with his hand and suddenly relieved himself in a bucket that rested beside his bed.

''Some of my customers have no care, they come in and spread their illnesses,'' Lewis wiped his mouth and feverishly slid back into his bed and watched as I came up to his bedside, and when I did the acrid smell of vomit burned my nose.

''Shouldn't you see a doctor?'' I wheezed as a sickly odor took over the air, Lewis pulled out a flask and gulped hardily.

''Then I wouldn't have an excuse to get blackout drunk,'' his pale cheeks flushed red as he drank eagerly, after this he pointed wearily to the drawer,'' hand me the bottle of champagne.''

''I don't know if you're ill or just drunk,'' I walked to the drawer and opened it, realizing that it held at least ten bottles. I turned towards him quickly and his face grinned in guilty laughter.

''It helps with all sorts of pain William,'' Lewis laid on his side and rested his head into his hands and smiled,'' if you drink enough everything goes black, you're finally free.''

''A tempting proposition for you perhaps.''

''For anyone who wants to die without the fear of death.''

I turned towards him and pulled the cork off the bottle and brought it to my own lips and gulped it blindly, and felt as its effects numbed my veins, and my own face turned red as I continued gulping. I could feel Lewis look at me in both confusion and awe. I took the bottle from my lips and took a deep breath and grinned.

''Do you want to know how much I paid for that,'' Lewis's mouth dropped and he reached for it,'' hand it over.''

I handed it to him and he finished it off. His pupils seemed to take over his whole eyes as he stared at me.

''I feel about to retch.''

''I would too if I were ill and drank all of that.''

He grinned behind his pale lips and looked up at me with dazed eyes, he leaned and reached for me, but slipped from his bed and collapsed to the ground before me.

I kneeled down to help him but he only began to laugh, and he lurched, vomiting again into the bucket at his side. He continued to laugh.

''Oh William,'' he huffed, wiping his lips and turning towards me,'' you're so beautiful in the candlelight.''

''As are you,'' I blurted out. And in my own delirium I helped him sit up and wiped the remaining vomit from his lips and gazed into his befuddled eyes. He grinned, and reached up to me like a child and I lifted him into my arms and dropped him onto his cot, and stood over him with my arms at each of his sides as he laid, with his legs folded off the side of the bed.

''You shouldn't touch me,'' he began to cough as his face flushed red,'' you'll catch this awful pestilence as well.''

''I would never take advantage of a sick man,'' I replied, leaned down and rested my head on his bosom,''  I'm better than that.''

''You're right,'' Lewis's voice mumbled,'' you're a good man William. A true heart of gold,'' his arms held me closer, and he buried his face in my shoulder,'' do not take me as crude, but you smell like the way a true man smells, William.''

''And you, like roses, Lewis.''

''Is that a kind way to tell me I'm feminine to you?''

''It's my way of telling you that, perhaps, in some kind of god awful way, that I want to take you in with all of my senses. I want to hold your form, see your radiant face, hear your soft voice, smell your scent of roses, and taste your lips.''

''So you do want to take advantage of a sick man.''

''No, for now Lewis I want to hold you, I won't leave until you fall asleep. I fear what hideous amount of alcohol you will drink while awake.''

Lewis laughed, pulled himself more upon the bed and I followed him. He eased himself into the sheets and I laid on top, holding him in my arms, his face nestled in my chest. He was so small, so fragile at this moment, I could feel his body shaking as a fever wracked his veins. His stomach gurgled, and his body was so broiling hot. I laid with him for a long while until his breathing became quiet and he failed to respond to my mutterings. I prepared a water basin for him, and placed a cold rag upon his head. I went to the door and opened it, turning to smile at Lewis. I closed the door and headed back towards my own dwellings, a pop of color came upon my vision seeing Lewis and holding him had rekindled my energy, and I couldn't wait to see him again.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Excerpt from Chapter 2 of my Stede/Ed/Jack/Anne/Mary fic What's Mine is Theirs on AO3

“You call this an Inn?” Anne demanded, mean laughter in her voice.

“Well like I said to Jack,” Ed whispered pointedly, “We’re still renovating, so we haven’t actually started having customers yet. We’ve only got three rooms."

“Is that a fuckin patched ceiling?” Mary said, looking up.

“Yeah, well-”

“I think I can still see the rings of the tree,” Anne cut Ed off, saying it as if it was a neat little observation. After being with Stede he was starting to pick up that Anne was mean a lot more often than she let on. People born rich speak in fucking codes.

“And the bugs living in it,” Mary added.

“We got rid of the bugs,” Ed hissed defensively, “And would you kindly shut the fuck up? Stede is sleeping.”

Mary grinned wickedly at him, “Awe are you worried about your boyfriend’s beauty sleep.”

“Well he is a looker,” Anne said with a little giggle.

Jack and Mary both groaned, “He’s one of the blandest white men I’ve ever seen,” Mary said “Almost as bad as Izzy.”

“Hey, fuck off,” Ed whispered a bit louder.

“He is not!” Anne said defensively, “He’s got nice shoulders. Besides, I like a man who knows his way around a Giltwood console.”

“Somebody please tell me that’s a euphemism for something,” Jack begged.

“Annie, you have the worst taste in men. I’m almost offended that you’re attracted to me,” Mary huffed.

“Hey, she’s into me,” Jack said defensively.

“I rest my case, ugly bastard,” Mary said, even louder.

Jack made a face at her, she stuck her tongue out, Jack gave her a middle finger. Ed anticipated a conflict brewing. Giving up on his attempt to keep his guests quiet, he spoke at full volume and said “Ok, ok. Guys, can we please save the bullshit for the morning at least?”

“Ed?” Stede appeared in the door to the slightly larger bedroom “What’s going on.”

“Our guests showed up, I was just showing them to their beds, you can go back to bed, love, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Hi, Stede.” Anne twiddled her fingers in a little wave. Mary gave Stede a little nod.

“Sup,” Jack said noncommittally, leaning against the fireplace and taking a swig out of a flask.

“Anne, Mary, lovely to see that you didn’t burn to death.” And with that Stede dropped the curtain they had hung as a makeshift door that was barely effective at keeping light out, much less the noise or providing any privacy, and shuffled back towards the bed.

[joylinda-hawks]

Brother Rong told his wife to send the Glazed Armor lock key to his master on Changming Mountain and explain what happened. She was to ask the master for forgiveness on his behalf. WOH Episode 19 Part 6. LQ goes on to say that RX felt guilty and remorseful for not mastering the combination. A surprised YBY asks if RX really felt guilty and remorseful. YBY thinks RX is an idiot, and ZZS and WKX look at YBY out of the corner of their eyes, listening to the conversation between him and LQ. LQ explains that Brother Rong told his wife to send the Glazed Armor lock key to her master on Changming Mountain and explain what happened. ZZS looks at WKX, who is trying to keep a straight face. LQ goes on to say that RX's wife was to ask the master for forgiveness on his behalf. LQ says that everything went wrong and hangs his head. Curious, YBY asks what happened next. LQ doesn't answer right away, but asks ZZS if he has wine. ZZS searches his sleeves for clothes, but before LQ can answer, WKX approaches the old man, followed by ZZS. WKX hands LQ his canteen of alcohol. LQ starts drinking, but chokes on the alcohol after a moment. WKX, ZZS, ZCL are concerned, but LQ smiles and states that there is no sun or moon in the mountains (meaning you don't feel the passage of time). He then adds that he had no idea how long it had been since he had drunk such good wine. WKX looks at LQ with a sad expression on his face. Annoyed, YBY tells LQ to stop talking nonsense and get back to the topic of their conversation. LQ explains to YBY that this is not nonsense. Heaven allowed him to live this far so that he could reveal the truth to the world. LQ goes back to drinking alcohol and laughs happily, which irritates YBY even more. The old man praises the wine, saying it is very good. LQ says that "The waters of the Yellow River flow from the sky and rush to the sea, never to return" (quote from the poem Serve the Wine to Li Bai). LQ then throws away the hip flask belonging to WKX. In flashback, we see friends and family sitting at the table, RX and his wife, the brothers of the alliance, all feasting. One of the young men stands up and says, "Have you not seen in the mirror in the high hall the sadness of gray hair? In the morning like black silk, in the evening like snow? Take the wine and let your glasses be ready." (quote from the poem Serve the Wine to Li Bai). The young man is SS., who after a while drinks the wine and throws away the glass. The others say it is wonderful. On the sidelines, away from the table, sits the young ZJ, busy reading. RX's wife stands up and pulls SS by the ear, asking what she is doing. SS asks her to forgive her. Zhen Ru Xu asks the woman to give SS such behavior. ZRX then asks why SS broke his cup. SS states that everyone in Jianghu says that the two beauties from the Valley of Healers embody all of its beauty and intelligence. LQ and QHZ look at ZRX's wife. SS adds that he thinks that the stupidity and ugliness that was left belonged to ZRX. ZYS listens seriously to SS's words and does not smile like the others. RX tells SS that Ru Yu stood up for him and he teases him. ZRX asks RX if he made a mistake. RX replies that no, ZRX did not and explains that it is simply a custom in Jianghu. ZRX repeats the words in Jianghu and states that it is interesting. Thanks to LQ, we learn that Glazed Armor is a lock, and to open it, a key is needed. LQ misses the taste of the wine that WKX offers him, which makes LQ reminisce about the past. In a flashback, we see RX and his friends, including the future Covenant brothers. They are young, optimistic, and can joke around. Only ZJ isolates himself from everyone. We also meet WKX's father, although we don't know yet that he is WKX's father. That's why LQ's story for WKX is so important. ZZS notices his strange behavior and watches him.

[songandflame-archived]

[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders

The Five Senses || @quietresistance (thank you!)

Fantine wasn't sure how long she had been stood at this particular corner. She had long since drained her flask of brandy; a body against her own would be enough to keep her warm for a brief moment, but Fantine had clearly not been trying hard enough for custom tonight.

She met men's gazes as they stumbled down the street, but most either pushed her aside or found the arms of another, more exuberant prostitute.

Long since numbed hands twisted against one another in an attempt to find feeling once more. It was largely a useless endeavour, but at trying helped her feel as if she was occupying her time with something.

The flinch came naturally in response to the unexpectedness of such an action. Fantine pushed back against hands hidden by the material of the blanket; in her panic, she insisted she could not pay for such an item. The last thing she wanted was someone forcing this on her and expecting a fee in return.

Briefly, her blue eyes flickered up to find those of the other woman's. Then another, more urgent thought. She could spare the money if it meant she could send it to Cosette.

"I will pay for my daughter's sake," she murmured eventually. The money she had was meant to go toward her debts, but Cosette's life was much more important. Her debtors did not have to worry about Fantine's departure; she was too poor and too sick to leave.

Frozen fingers searched for her small coin purse, rummaging through it once finally locating it to establish just what she had to offer. "How much are you asking?"

[totalimagesolution]

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[theactsoftheapostles]

"The Schvitz." From the Acts of the Apostles 2: 22-24.

Underneath the flesh and hidden in the coils of the mind is what is called the Self, the secret entity only we can discover, and cannot in any way nor are we required to explain it. Everyone who finds the hidden language of the Self understands how it is custom and also universal all at once; this process of complete awareness of all is called the Pentecost.

To understand as much as possible about this sacramental experience Luke says we have to backtrack to the Supreme Self, a being we call Jeshua. On earth He is called Jesus of Nazareth. We can come to know the Self in All, but this mightiest of beings is their Cause. To know the effect, oneself, one must first know the Cause, the Zara, or "the seat of might."

Notice Luke like yours truly is rolling the Torah forward so it inlcudes the vital data about this Causal Self for the benefit of all who seek the Hem of the Holy Ghost and the Communion of Saints with their fellow man:

22 “Fellow Israelites, listen to this: Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know. 

23 This man was handed over to you by God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men,[d] put him to death by nailing him to the cross. 

24 But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him. 

The Self as I have said is self-defined. Once the Self is loosed, the matrix from it was made is cast aside. As Luke says at that point, life and death have no more hold over the actions of a person. This is explained below:

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 22: Listen to this. Jesus was a man. The Number is 14102, ידק‎ב‎, "yadak, use the Gemara, thin things out and be accurate."

Jesus did not sin, no not once. We have nothing to lose if we read the Gospels and learn how Jesus said we can overcome sin and achieve Shabbat. A self that sins is not knowable. Who would want to do that?

v. 23: This man was handed over to you. Deliberately follow in His footsteps and impersonate Him in all your ways. The Number is 9908, ט‎ץח‎, tzach, "be fresh, pure, clean, and neat."

v. 24: But God raised Him from the dead and freed Him. As sad as it sounds, Jesus does not fit in with us as individual persons or as a community. As we impersonate Him, what is not of the Self will dissipate leaving the remnant in the flask, the objective of this book called the Acts. All reverence of Jesus is to stop after the remnant is attained and Shabbat is celebrated instead. Just like one must one day walk off the college campus and practice one's trade, one must also plan to leave the Church behind.

The Number is 4715, םזי״ה‎, mezayeta, "from sweat."

The Hebrew term for sweat is schvitz. A schvitz "can afford to sweat."

One undertakes the Torah and the Gospels and does the "backbreaking work" in hopes one day all the sweating one does will be restricted to the moments one is engaged in physical exercise alone. In terms of Gemara this means all self-doubt must be schvitzed out.

The final Gemara is ידק‎ב ט‎ץח‎םזי״ה‎, yedek‎be t‎tzach‎mezayeta‎, "will stick to you through the teachings of the Zeyata, 'the order that is coming."

Jesus was a man, then He was a literary figure, a mechanism God used to explain the Supreme Self to persons who do not know what that means. He has always been a product and a progenitor of the natural order. Whether we think of Him as a man or a Spirit, He can always be found in what is adjacent; what is rooted in reality and inseparable from it.

In other words, Jesus can never be a thing of fiction or fantasy, only exactly as He is. Life here would not work without it. Comprehension of this is the shortest path to the Self. To schvitz away all the nonsense people say about this phenomenon is a great favor one can do for oneself.

The fukchucks think we have to accept this, but all we really have to do is understand it. Acceptance of an immutable thing is silly, there is no need to believe. One does not need to accept the light of the sun or the wetness of water. The natural substance of this Being is the same. All one needs to do is move about and proof of these things appears. Persons that teach acceptance of Jesus are fools. In any case they are not in charge, not of themselves, not of anything.

[bestshopping2025]

Thoughtful Valentine's Day Gifts for Men in 2025: Personalized, Practical, and Unique Ideas

Find the perfect thoughtful Valentine's Day gift for him. From personalized keepsakes to hobby-based surprises, discover ideas he'll truly appreciate.

Today is the perfect day to tell the special man in your life, ‘I appreciate you’. It does not have to be a nightmare when selecting the appropriate gift. If it’s gadgets, hobbies or offbeat adventure, my dear friend, there is something for him out there somewhere. Here’s a list for you in case you need ideas on what gift to give him this Valentine’s day out of his interests and personality.

Top Personalized Valentine's Day Gifts for Men

In some occasions, an individual addition makes a gift more amazing than one could think of.

Customized Leather Accessories

Leather accessories for individuals remain gifts of value that can be used forever. There are engraved wallets, belts, and a slim key chain that can either have his initials or birth date inscribed. The items are useful, fashionable, and carry significant cherished association values. The elegance of a well-made leather piece is magnified known if it has a previous history of use.

Personalized Tech Gadgets

Tech enthusiasts would prefer a personalized case for the phone, an engrave stand for tablets and even engravable wireless earphone. It is useful, but can also be personalized if you want to include favorite quote or design that he likes.

Memorable Keepsakes

Make a moment he will always remember in his life. This has personalized star maps for a special date, engraved photos for a special memory or a cartoon drawing of the two of you.

Practical Gifts He'll Use Everyday

Gifts that combine utility with thoughtfulness are always winners.

Smart Gadgets and Tools

If he worships technological advancements, then and can’t go without smart meat thermometers for the grill master, a gaming dock for his favorite console, a multi-tool for daily usage. All these items create fun and utility out of life.

Cozy Apparel and Accessories

Replace his regular wear with better quality sweatpants, a relaxation weighted blanket, or a designer winter knit cap. This make the casual days even more interesting through the following gifts.

Work and Travel Essentials

To choose gifts for him, you should consider what accessories he could use in his daily activities; bags, charging devices or good diaries. If he travels a lot, he would look classy carrying a small leather passport holder.

Special Items Related To His Hobbies and Interests

Giving him goodies pertaining to his hobbies proves to that you are in touch with him in deed and not in just the abstract.

For the Gamer

What else does he need that would complement and add to his gaming? These are things like gaming chairs designed for ergonomic comfort, special, numbered, or collectible games and, for fun, artwork that is inspired by games. A gift that will reciprocate his setup will be welcomed.

For the Chef or Food Lover

If he rules the roost in the kitchen, then you can consider an upgrade to his chef’s knife, or a state-of-the-art cookbook or gourmet cooking kit for evening cooking frenzy. Bonus: You also get to enjoy the fruits of this gift!

For the Outdoorsman

If he likes hiking, think camping cutlery and kitchenware, an multi functional tool, a travelling flask or a hiking rucksack.

Valentine’s Day Special Experience Gifts

Just as often as tangible gifts which is not always true, they also involve commonalities.

Romantic Couple Activities

Try to take him out on a winery tour and tasting, on a dance lesson for two or go for a couples massage. These activities help in a building of common experiences as they bring a little extra romance to the day.

Subscription Services

Make it a point to give him something he will like every month. Some of those are monthly subscription for his favorite playlists, a food delivery kit for a fun evenings of cooking something new together, or hobby-based boxes like Vinyl Me Please for him, if he is a fan of records.

Adventurous Experiences

If you are up for an adventurous life, then go further. Riding a hot air balloon or Zip lining or participating in those imaginative activities including map making or pottery making are some ways that would make this Valentine’s Day special.

Conclusion

It is important not to regard the gifts for a man on Valentine’s day as gifts in the ordinary sense of the term in that they can be cheap, but the important aspect is to show some thought. With as little as a pen, a mug, or a photo, the impact of choosing the right gift that he will like depends on how closely it relates to who he is. Do not procrastinate it is a deadly sin! Do not wait for tomorrow to plan for this occasion, it is high time you make this valentine special.

[atplblog]

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