#Apothecary Cocktails

[giftideasfromaycaramba]

Mid Century Modern Cocktail Glass Libbey Apothecary Rx c1960 Set 4

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[blujayonthewing]

modern idri is 100% a youtuber/ internet celebrity but she doesn't shill diet pills or detox shakes or whatever, mostly because she has a brain and a moral center but also partly because her mom's a pharmacist and would kill her for real

[johnnyprimecc]

Ye's Apothecary

Ye’s Apothecary is a cool downstairs spot in the Lower East Side that serves great cocktails and some tasty Szechuan food. The Szechuan old fashioned was a great way to start the meal. It IS spicy, so beware. Our favorite dish was “husband and wife,” which was a chilled appetizer of beef tripe and tendon in a spicy chili oil. The egg noodles with char siu pork was also a nice dish, but I…

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Emperor's Children have a sex drive

Boom! This is canon. It took me to read a lot of literature and write down all the hints, but it was worth it.

Here we go ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

First of all, we need to start with Julius Kaeseron, who experienced sexual attraction to Bequa, and later to the demonette. Fun fact. In my native language, because of the translation, not only Julius appreciated the delights of the composer, but also Lucius, lol.

JULIUS WATCHED WITH barely contained excitement as the blue haired composer crossed the stage and descended into the orchestra pit to take her place on her conductor’s podium. Dressed in a scandalously translucent dress of gold and crimson, the gossamer thin material hung with precious stones that glittered like stars. The cut of her dress plunged from her shoulders to her pelvis, the swell of her breasts and the hairlessness of her flesh clearly visible beneath. ‘Magnificent!’ cried Fulgrim, clapping furiously with the audience at Bequa’s appearance, and Julius was amazed to see tears in his eyes. Julius nodded, and though he had no real memory of feminine splendour or any frame of reference against which to compare her, the composer’s curves and obvious womanhood stole away his breath. Julius had felt such stirrings of emotion when he gazed upon his primarch, heard a particularly inspiring piece of music or went into battle, but to feel his senses aroused by a mortal woman was a new experience for him.

Bequa Kynska thrashed like a lunatic atop her conductor’s podium, jabbing and slashing the air with her baton, her hair a wild comet of blue as it whipped around her head. Julius tore his eyes from the magnificent sight of her and looked out over the audience to witness its reaction to this sublime, raucous music.

And yes, in all of these examples, you can see that Julius doesn't just find the girl and the demonette beautiful. He notes that he was delighted by femininity. Moreover, he even calls it seductive. Seductive. Not the most commonly used word in the Space Marine vocabulary.

Julius had never seen anything so simultaneously beautiful and repellent, a naked female creature that evoked both a potent loathing, and a perverse sensuality that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Hair like needle horns swept back from her oval face, with its green, saucer-like eyes, fanged mouth and luscious lips. Her body was sculpted perfection, lithe and sensuous, but with only a single breast, and her skin was loathsomely tattooed and pierced. Each of her arms terminated in a long crab-like claw of glistening red chitin and moist flesh. Despite the lethal claws, the creature was disturbingly seductive, and Julius felt moved in a way he had not been since he had been elevated to the ranks of the Astartes. She moved with languid, cat-like grace, her every movement redolent with sexuality and the promise of dark pleasures and excesses unknown to the minds of mortal men. Julius ached to taste them.

And here you can see that the space marines did not yet know how to unleash their emotions. How to have pleasure other ways than battle:

The Astartes too were swept up in the surging power generated by the Maraviglia. Blood was spilled as the emotions of the Astartes were overloaded with sensational excess, and were vented in the only way men bred as warriors knew how. An orgy of killing spread from the stage, blood running in rivers as the power of the music thundered through La Venice.

But they learn quickly and start trying a lot of different things. This can be clearly seen in "Reflection Is Cracked". And yes, there is even a special place for more intimate things:

"Which was not to say that the observation deck went unused. Those who imbibed the toxically hallucinogenic cocktails brewed by Apothecary Fabius found enlightenment in its infinite vistas, and many indulged their freshly awakened carnal hungers with vicarious feasts of flesh and blades. Discarded bodies and torn heaps of broken glass lay strewn throughout the bay, and the occasional moan issued from a jumbled pile of clothing and leather restraints."

The same story mentions that they had fun with prisoners on one of the planets for several days. At first, one company abused the slaves, later handing them over to another.

During the Siege of Terra, the Emperor's Children also tortured mortals. Moreover, it is not specified exactly how. If this were ordinary literature, then “more direct and crude enjoyment” could be perceived as a, ahem, dubious agreement. But since Warhammer 40k is here, use your imagination.

Simple pleasures had given way to complex debaucheries. While their allies fought and died the Emperor’s Children slaughtered more than a million people and rendered them down to create endless varieties of drugs and stimulants. Countless thousands more died to give the Emperor’s Children more direct, if cruder, enjoyment.

How exactly did they have fun? Not specified. But I think that everything was there. And yes, this is an important point.

In Angel Exterminatus, Julius even emphasizes that they began to experience pleasure in EVERYTHING. They began to look for pleasure in all things.

The Lords of Profligacy had lifted the suffocating veils of the mundane from their eyes and shown them unlimited worlds of sensation and indulgence. Undreamed vistas of excess in all things: noise, music, bloodshed, hedonism, torture, violence, adoration and most of all, worship. Every second not spent indulging desires declared taboo in an earlier age was a waste of life, and Julius Kaesoron had long since declared that no act of indulgence would remain beyond his grasp.

And yes, sexual attraction is a matter for every person. While most Space Marines will be attracted to ladies, some will look at men. Yes, I can nitpick, but c'mon, just read this passage:

Lonomia Ruen detached himself from the advance, and Lucius cursed. Since the death of Bastarnae Abranxe, Ruen had transferred his cultish adoration to Lucius. For a while it had been an interesting diversion to have a slavish devotee, but Lucius was already tiring of the man’s desperate need. ‘Your body is a wonder,’ said Ruen.

In the first book about Fabius Bile, a lot is described about how the Emperor's Children have fun on the ship:

The observation deck had become a place of contemplation and experimentation for the masters of the Quarzhazat. A place to indulge in pleasures of body and mind. Slaves bearing immense narcotic generators staggered to and fro, filling the air with a pleasant fug. Emperor’s Children sat on marble benches looted from Imperial temples and eldar crone worlds, or lounged on cushions made from the flayed hides of prisoners, speaking softly to one another of past debaucheries and future ecstasies. They wagered on gladiatorial bouts, watching as unlucky crewmembers gutted each other with rusty blades or, in some cases,hands and teeth. Elsewhere, the crude gutter-poetry of lost Nostromo warred with ear-splitting songs culled from the manufactorums of Chemos and Cthonia. The more artistically inclined among them painted obscene murals on the wall and deck. Armour was peeled away from flesh, so that brands could be applied, or the bite of a tattooist’s needle.

And here we see this:

In the shadows, more intimate entertainments were being enjoyed, to judge by the screams of slave and Space Marines alike. The smell of blood and worse was strong on the air.

Moreover, their leader clearly loves his daemonettes too much. These are the interesting hints you can find in books.

The Radiant seemed to enjoy these occasional slaughters, and openly encouraged them, when he wasn’t leading a hunt or consorting with his Neverborn courtesans.

Oleander really distinguished himself, since apparently he started an affair with Fabius' daughter Melusine:

Oleander, it crackled. It has been so long, my love... come to me... come... He took a halting step forward, despite himself. Desire surged up in him, rising wild. His limbs trembled with need and his brain sparked with longing. A face swelled in his mind’s eye, inhuman and beautiful and terrible in that beauty, teased into the open by the electricfingers stroking his soul. He had danced to this rhythm before, however, and he recognised a lie when he heard one. He forced himself to stop, though his every instinct begged that he go forward. ‘No,’ he croaked. ‘No, I know her febrile stink, and you are not her,’ Oleander said. ‘She would not ask – she would demand.’

In the short story "A More Perfect Union" by Richard McCormick it's implied that some Emperor's Children are having sex (or something like sex). And not only with slaves but with each other.

Xantine to Euphoros:

'It has boon some time since you made your way to my bed chamber, my lord,' he said, draping a purple cloak around his naked body and drawing himself up to standing height with a predator's grace.

Euphoros to Xantine:

'I was worried, I hear pillow talk from from souls who tell me you are lost to your ...'* he looked at the empty containers. 'To your predilections.'

In the book Pariah, the simply amazing character Teke the Smiling appears. And yes, he not only notices the beauty of Beta and Judika, but also wants to “have fun” with the girl. He calls her "sweet" many times as if in mockery. And jokes that she should take her friend on board as "plaything".

‘My, but you’re beautiful,’ Teke said to me, regarding me intently. ‘As beautiful as the boy. Those eyes, that mouth. The hard absence of soul. It’s such a shame he’s been spoiled.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Bequin,’ he said. He paused. ‘Well, of course, I do. Very much. Right up to the unthinkable point where it becomes a pleasure for both of us. But I can’t. I’m not allowed to. You’re too valuable.’

‘You have provided us with it. Within just hours of knowing you, Bequin… sweet Mamzel Bequin… you have already performed an extraordinary service for us.’

‘Oh, he likes you, doesn’t he?’ said Teke, smiling at the Curst. ‘Do you want to bring him too, as your plaything?’

And I like how in the sequel the two girls talk about Teke.

‘I don’t have to imagine,’ she said. ‘I’ve met them. A brief encounter with the one named Teke. Thankfully, I was well warded. It was hard to tell what he wanted more – to kill me, or copulate with me.’ ‘Both, I should think. At the same time.’

Also worth mentioning is Telemachon, who was infatuated with Nefertari. Mostly due to the fact that she is a Drukhari. And he wanted to kill her for the Dark Prince. Is there any sexual connotation here? Well:

‘My angel. My lovely angel, you know nothing of what you speak. You’ve spent a lifetime running from the Youngest God. But he loves you, sweetling. He adores you and all of your kind. I can hear him sing each time you breathe. And one day, when you leave your flesh behind, you will be his. A concubine of spirit and shadow, claimed by your true love at last.’

Telemachon closed his eyes, breathing in her breath, drinking her every exhalation. Being near her was rapture. ‘Let me touch you,’ he said, shuddering. ‘Just let me touch you once.’

‘You live in defiance of his hunger, lovely angel... Let me taste you. Let me bleed you. Let me kill you. Please. Please. Please.’

Telemachon’s hunger for her was still a palpable thing, an aura that invisibly stained the air around him. He was imagining the salty richness of her blood on his tongue, and the thought made him shiver.

I want her, came the swordsman’s wish, as clear as if he’d spoken it aloud. He did not send the words to me, but his murderous desire was fierce enough that I couldn’t help but sense his thoughts.

 A feather. A single black feather. I tore it from the fine golden chain that bound it to the pistol grip and crushed it in my hand. ‘Is this from her wings?’ I demanded.  ‘But of course.’ ‘You diseased creature. Stalking her. Watching her.’ ‘And more.’ The onyx of his eyes flashed with reflected light. Telemachon was smiling. His facemask didn’t change, but I sensed whatever was left of his face behind the silver twisting in mirth.

And I really like that the Thousand Sons Space Marine stubbornly says that he doesn’t need Nefertari. That she is simply his property and she has no value to him in the Black Legion. Also he when Telemachon speaks of Nefertari:

I will end him. My mind inferred the tigrus-lynx’s violent eagerness as words, though as ever no words were spoken.

‘Do you value your life so little?’ I asked him, surprising myself with my own honesty. ‘This hunger for her will be the death of you.’

And the Chaosites have clearly expanded their vocubular. Just imagine what the Space Marines said smt like that during the Great Crusade:

‘Prey,’ the wych hissed again, echoed crudely by her sisters. ‘Oh no,’ Lucius grinned. ‘You are quite mistaken, my lovelies. I am not being hunted by you. It is you who are being hunted by me.’

Even Abaddon knows how to speak with ladys even if they are eldar which is really funny:

‘The Maiden of Commorragh,’ he greeted her.

‘They are gone.’ Nefertari broke in, still wearing her smile. ‘Their bodies hang in my Aerie if you wish to introduce yourself to them the way you have to others.’ Abaddon snorted in amused resignation. ‘What a wretched little darling you are, alien. And what of Falkus? Where is he, Khayon?’

I also found two interesting comments on reddit, but alas, I could not find exact references in the books. I'm still a human being and this is a Tumblr post, not a dissertation:

The Emperor's Children are quite possessive of the Daemons of Slaanesh. Fighting honour duels for a kiss of a daemonette or to catch the eye of a Keeper of Secrets. They showered even the least of Dark Prince's daemons with affections and gifts. It is because of this they are jealous of the Word Bearers like Saqqara who needed none of that to be beloved by daemons.

And another one:

The bile series straight up has the ec doing kinky shit only just off screen and one of the things Fabius gets accused of when he's setting up his new men is that he's just making a harem for himself.

I also like reddit about Fulgrim because it's true:

I’m pretty sure there is a pretty blatant scene in Slaves to Darkness that shows Fulgrim’s interest in EVERY excess and sex is part of the equation. It’s like a bunch of cultists and demons in the Webway essentially worshipping Slaanesh by experiencing excess including sex, gluttony, etc. Fulgrim is taking part, but it’s not exactly clear what he is taking part in. He’s a demon prince by this point obviously.

He was the only primarch who was married. He can lie himself that he didn't really loved his adoptive parents and wives but can't lie me:

Fulgrim sat back. ‘I was betrothed, once,’ he continued idly. ‘Several times, actually. Political marriages, of course. Made to seal binding agreements, or open negotiations with certain executive dynasties.’ Pyke didn’t reply. His tone had become sombre. A rare thing, for Fulgrim. The Phoenician seemed to always be smiling, laughing at some joke only he understood. But now, he seemed tired. He rubbed his face. ‘I outlived them all, one way or another.’ ‘Did you love them?’ Fulgrim smiled slowly. ‘Some. I think. At first. After a time, I stopped. Love was a weakness I could ill afford in those days. A billion lives rested on my shoulders, and any hesitation on my part would have doomed them all irrevocably.’ He laughed softly. ‘Or so I told myself then.’ ‘And now?’ ‘Now, I know it would have. There is no room for weakness in this galaxy. No room for imperfection.’

And do you know why this is a lie? Because after Fulgrim become a daemon prince, he immediately got N'kari as his consort:

Fulgrim reached the dais and flowed up its side. The bloated thing squirmed in greeting, uncoiling its bulk and twining it around Fulgrim as he embraced it. The thing purred up at the daemon primarch, baring its teeth. Fulgrim ran a hand over its hair. ‘There, N’kari, my delight… We will have bliss again once this is done with, but he is family, and that means I should listen to what he says, hmm? At least a little.' N’kari… It was not its true name – that was a thing that would have broken reality to speak – but in the realm of the warp it was like a signature drawn in atrocity. Layak had glimpsed it and heard it at the edge of bloody visions, but never seen it before. Now it sat before him. N’kari… Eater of Delight, the Son of Ruin, the Daughter of Delight, one of the Six Courtesans of the Dark Prince. Fulgrim settled next to the exalted daemon, their snake bodies intertwining with a sigh, then turned his gaze back on Lorgar.

Fulgrim squirmed, a hand running through N’kari’s hair, while another picked a wet, red fruit from a silver platter and held it out to the bloated daemon. Layak noticed that the exalted daemon’s face was a warped echo of Fulgrim’s own, a fattened parody of the daemon primarch’s primarch’s soul-breaking perfection. N’kari ate the fruit and licked Fulgrim’s fingers.

‘Which war is this, brother dear?’ said Fulgrim, running a finger over N’kari’s cheek.

Fulgrim snarled as soon as Layak willed him speech. ‘I will take your soul and–’ ‘Your consort has already issued the necessary threats.'

N’kari walked to Fulgrim’s side, its bull-headed form shrinking and thinning until it was a slender figure wrapped in red silk, its skin the colour of a shark’s belly, its eyes black orbs. A delicate crest of bone and skin ran down the centre of its scalp. ‘Where the Prince of the Princes goes, so go I,’ it said, its voice a melody that promised bliss and suffering. ‘I am bound to this and to him. As you command him, so shall I follow your will.

By the way let's not forget the words of my man Tyrell, Renegade Lord of Arden IX (Codex: Chaos Space Marines (8th Edition, pg. 52):

Take care, lest your protests grow tiresome. I have asked for so little! Anyone would think that I have asked you to sacrifice yourselves and your sons! And yet, in Slaanesh's boundless and pleasing mercy, I have asked only for your daughters. Surely you would not deny me my small enjoyments?

And I don't care what fandom thinks about my beloved Ian Watson. I don't like he's other space marines. But his Children of Emperor are great:

Were the screaming tethered female prisoners hallucinating while abominations were perpetrated slowly and perversely upon their flesh? A few tormentors had shed items of armour, exposing grotesquely mutated rampant groins, their organs of pleasure bifurcated and more, with squinting eyes sprouting from them, and with drooling lips. Others had no need to shed armour. Chaos Spawn had materialized: wolf-sized creatures with legs of spiders and bodies of imps, with questing tentacles and phallic tubes. Jaq himself almost believed that he was hallucinating. A snake-like umbilical cord connected these spawn to the swollen groin-guards of their master – who stood back, roaring and whinnying with delight, as they guided the spawn in the ravishing of their captives, soaking up the sensations of these roving external members. Corralling other hysterical captives were beastmen slaves armed with serrated axes. A Chaos Tech-Marine monitored these slaves. His armour was studded with spikes. Each shoulder pauldron was in the shape of giant clutching fingers. He wore a nightmare helmet shaped like a horse’s head, eyes glowing red. One of the shaggy beastmen drooled and dropped his axe. The beastman reached out a paw to caress a particularly voluptuous captive. Immediately the Tech-Marine adjusted a control-box strapped to his forearm. The disobedient beastman’s metal collar exploded, severing his head. The head fell. It bounced and rolled amidst the captives even as the beastman’s body was tottering.

I almost forgot to add that in the book Renegades: Lord of Excess Xantine emphasizes that he is fascinated by love. He liked to kill, torture and just look at lovers. So much so that he was delighted with the way his personal daemonette of Slaanesh hugged him. The usual hug after sex, something personal and more sensual.

Later, he warms up to Cecile, a psyker, but not enough to not use her as a navigator. Although the book mentions that he didn't want to know whether she sighed in surprise or pain when he loaded the helmet on her.

He also called one woman, whom he had picked up a long time ago (she interested him because she laughed when she learned that she had become with the inhabitants of the world, who kicked her out of the city, calling her a witch) a muse.

 So...

It is clear that, first of all, the Emperor's Children derive pleasure from murder and torture. But still this is not enough. Some may have their own personal obsession. For example, Lucius' fencing. A Space Marine was mentioned who sought satisfaction in the spiritual realm rather than the material. They may love music, food, or take drugs. Including fucking. It's just not their main goal.

So everyone who is against “sex among space marines” can relax. Yes, there is sex drive, but this is just one of the pleasures. Besides, only the Emperor's Children have this thing… at least I haven't found any other Space Marines yet. But judging by my excellent analysis, if I try, who knows.

[copperbadge]

I texted this to like half the people I know in brickspace simply captioned "I think we're gentrifying."

They are planning to offer a class where you do trivia while waiting for your freshly-poured candles to set. They're calling it "Flames and Games" which is a great title for like, a gay D&D guide.

Between this, the indy coffee shop next door to it, and the craft cocktail bar going in across the street, summer 2024 should be a downright festival of amazing peoplewatching.

[ID: A sign hanging in a storefront window near my home; it reads "Opening Spring 2024: Embers + Apothecary, Chicago Candle Bar. Join daily candle making classes or host a private party." The text is laid over an image of someone pouring a cup of wax into a candle mold.]

[callmearcturus]

1, 2, 7 and/or 8, 13

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

2 and 8 and 13

Already answered.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

/laughs. Jake's POV chapter in KTOWL. I'll grab some excerpts. MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR ACT THREE OF KTOWL.

Ah, Striders. He was becoming uncommonly fond of them. And how could he not? In Abraxas, every vice and temptation flowed like water from a well, and Jake rarely considered any of them. All the designer drugs their apothecaries cooked up, and Jake stuck to good old dextroamphetamine and calmag.

But now that he'd gotten one Strider and glimpsed the other two? Jake wanted in a way he rarely wanted anything. His hands curled when he thought about the Umbral Executor. Oh, he carried a torch for him. Or, a knife, really. The very same Dirk had flung into Jake's shoulder was always on Jake's person, always in a tidy little sheath Jake had put together for it. He'd wear it over his heart if it wouldn't break the line of his shirts.

Not that the lovely accountant was forgotten. Truly, the manner in which he assumed he was forgotten was enough to keep him vivid in Jake's mind. Sorrow hung around him and clung to Jake in his wake, like a bruise he couldn't stop touching, like a sticky remnant that clung to his fingers no matter how much he washed. Sweet and sad, and Jake wanted to drive a knife through Caliborn's skull for the chance to see him smile.

Jake's POV chapter was all about showing off what an absolutely unhinged motherfucker he is, the specificity of him. And the specificity of Jake Abraxas English is so goddamn important for a lot of reasons, but mainly to make him feel as inhuman as possible. He's the head of a drug empire and sticks to his prescriptions. He got stabbed by Dirk and keeps the knife in a handmade sheaf as a sign of devotion. He thinks killing Caliborn would make Dave smile.

Jake hated losing, and picked his battles accordingly. That one, he kept folded up in his pocket, waiting for such a time when he might win. If only she'd realize his winning was to everyone's benefit.

But that was a matter for another night. For now, Jake mixed some of the botanical gin she always had on hand, cucumber, mint, and a splash of St Germain.

A little of this, a little of that, all captured in glass. Jake never drank, but there wasn't much difference between neon and cocktails. There wasn't much difference between neon and anything.

Jake never loses not just because he's a formidable foe and powerful presence Under the Table, but because he selects his fights like he's counting cards against the universe.

And "There wasn't much difference between neon and anything." Not only does Jake have a batshit way of looking at the world, but he applies the same ruleset to everything, from mixology to gunfights to corporate warfare.

"Isn't that rule one? Never put yourself in a position to lose." She came into view with proximity, melting out of the shadows. Her cane tapped very quietly against the dubiously-colored carpet.

"That is what I say, isn't it," Jake murmured, picking up the ball and starting it up again.

Again, specificity with how Jake phrases everything is-- I put TREMENDOUS effort into every word in every sentence. I wanted to foster this idea that Jake was Crafted. He was created by his grandmother to be this exact monster. So he mentions how he manipulates circumstances to always win earlier, then the same thing is said by the woman who created him, trying to imbue this... discomfort to his making.

Once, Rose had snippily asked if Jake had been grown in a vat for just this purpose, his purpose. He had smiled but had not laughed.

(CACKLES)

It was a special kind of fool who cheated his way into Jake's territory and then didn't even have the decency to have arms ready when Jake stepped into the trap.

The knife Dirk had gifted him just a few miles away in an alleyway in this very city seemed a fitting end for this absolute idiot. Drawing it silently, Jake quick-stepped across the plush (silent) rug that ran from the door to the desk.

There was no hesitation; if the troll looked up, he was done for. Jake kicked the back of the fellow's leg hard, buckling it. The troll let out one of those panicked trills, his hand slapping against the desk.

The muscle in that arm corded as he prepared to shove himself back up. Jake grabbed a fistful of hair— his horns were too short to be of any use here— and yanked him back.

The posture pole pressed firmly against Jake's thigh as he shoved the knife against the troll's throat. "Clementine, what a surprise! Have you done something to your hair? New cologne?"

Up to this point, the audience has mostly experienced Jake through Dirk's eyes, and there's always been an unspoken understanding that Jake would not kill Dirk. So when an intruder shows up and annoys Jake, I wanted his response to feel smart and certain and natural to him. I wanted the audience to understand that Jake is fucking dangerous.

"How much do you love him? Because some things you won't get back."

Jake watched Karkat realize his meaning, dark and bitter chocolate melting across Jake's tongue as comprehension dawned on Karkat's face.

Jake is a freak. He tells a guy he likes, who he's taken an immediate shine to, tells the guy "I'm gonna cut off your arm" and Karkat's dawning understanding does for Jake what any Abraxas designer drug does for the masses. He's a monster, and I love him.

[jomiddlemarch]

Choose an object from my home

@kivrin posted this and it was adorable, so I decided to give it a whirl.

Tagging @orlissa @helianthus-exilis @fericita-s @sagiow @nervousladytraveler @artielu @amarguerite @daisyyydaisyyydaisyyy @iamstartraveller776 and anyone else who wants to play

[septemberlikeastorm]

this man said "i need a drink" & proceeded to craft the the most sex & the city-coded poison cocktail ever, so from cascade ocean wave blues come i give you:

Osha ducks her head to deposit the straw back in her glass, and he very carefully stores away the image of the pink flash of her tongue. “I suppose you should show off a little, just to salvage your supposedly fearsome reputation, since you’re a coward who refuses to do shots with me.”

He’d gotten a scant pour of liquor, and nurses it like a grudge. “I’ve learned better,” he tells her while wiping his hands off, “than to let my guard down around others.”

She regards him in silence, clearly trying to gauge whether his even tone is one of mild reproach.

It’s not—she is perfectly safe to let her guard down precisely because he is there to guard her—and so he adds gently, “I also don’t like straight liquor, but the only mixers they have are dishwater and cooking oil, and I figure I’m consuming enough oil as it is.” To punctuate his point, he offers her a lump of unidentifiable fried food.

 “I told you, no way am I eating that, it’s as greasy as you were back in that apothecary on Olega.”

“Greasy is a strong word. I was going for more of a windswept, ruggedly handsome look.” He fights not to smile at the face she makes, and allows, “I may have overemphasized the rugged aspect.”

“You were gross,” she informs him with what he feels is entirely too much glee, kicking her dangling feet and taking another long sip of her drink, slurping when she gets down to the dregs. It shouldn’t be endearing.

It is.

[the-journey-was-the-point]

Reunion

Finally, something on Linnéa! This is about a key moment, so it contains a lot of exposition for this whole AU. Summary: It's a little awkward to reunite with the Dwarf you kidnapped. Especially when you're also the person who saved his life. In any case, it's complicated.

Linnéa had been waiting in a parlor in Erebor for half an hour, thinking up ways to escape a windowless room in a mountain full of Dwarves. When Fíli arrived, she immediately tensed. 

“I mean you no harm,” he said. 

“You sent armored guards to bring me here."

The last time Linnéa saw Fíli, he was being held over a ledge by a pale orc with a sword for an arm. Now he was dressed in finer fabrics and gems, befitting a Prince Under the Mountain.

He also had a burn mark on his right cheek. 

“I had to make sure you’d come,” he replied, I needed to talk to you.” 

Linnéa eyed the Dwarf prince with caution as he readied himself to speak again. 

“Kíli nearly died.” he said.

“Yes, I heard. Poisoned by an Orcish arrow. You went to Bard for help.” Then Tauriel and the Mirkwood prince came in. Tauriel stayed behind to heal Kíli. 

“We went to your apothecary first,” Fíli started, “but when we got there, the place was deserted.” 

Linnéa glanced at the closed door behind Fíli. He hadn’t taken any further steps after crossing the threshold into the parlor. He stayed near the door while she had her back to the innermost wall in the room. 

“My cover was blown,” she said easily. “My handler told me to steer clear from Laketown, also in anticipation of a dragon attack.“ A dragon attack that ended with the town in ashes. 

“Were you at the battle then?” he asked. “Between Dwarves, Elves, and the Men of Laketown?” The one that had ended with an ambush by Orcs.

“I stayed in Dale. Disappeared during the thick of it.” 

Fíli only nodded in response. He seemed to be in deep thought as he, at last, slowly moved towards the center of the room. Linnéa watched each step warily. Fíli stopped in front of the table with refreshments that were laid out for her. Tea and cakes. She had touched none of it. 

“Back then,” Fíli spoke once more, “on Ravenhill, I was caught by Orcs who meant to wipe out my line. Nearly did. The only thing that saved me was an arrow laced with poison so strong that Azog dropped me in pain when struck with it. I landed on my brother. I was injured from the fall, burning from the poison where it grazed my cheek, but nothing as bad as what could have happened.”

The dwarf prince gingerly picked a cake and seemed to examine it as he continued, “I had Nori keep an ear out. We were the only dwarves on Ravenhill, and Mirkwood elves don’t use poison.” 

He set the cake back down and looked up at her meaningfully. 

He didn’t speak, but she understood. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, eyeing the inflamed skin on his cheek.

“It itches sometimes. Oín hasn’t been able to completely heal it.” 

Of course. That poison was a cocktail of her own making, so only she had the cure.

“I’ve thought about it this whole time. I don’t understand why a spy from Mirkwood like yourself would save me.” 

“You’re an honorable sort.” she said, “Noble. And kind. I didn’t think you should die for your uncle’s decisions.” 

And it wasn’t personal, she said as much last time. The only reason she was working for Mirkwood as a spy was because she had been stuck in Middle Earth for over a hundred years, with a chunk of that time spent trying to find a way to sail to the Undying Lands with the rest of the immortals. Unfortunately, her half-Elven blood and Mannish features weren’t doing her any favors. 

So when Mirkwood’s spymaster, who just so happened to know her Elven father, offered her an ultimatum (her services in exchange for a good word to get her onto a boat headed West), she accepted. 

“I’m going on a quest soon,” Fíli suddenly said. “Really just a small errand, but uncle doesn’t want me traveling alone. He said I could choose my companions. I’d like you to be one of them.”

Ah, yes. His uncle. Thorin Oakenshield. Now the King Under the Mountain. The one Linnéa had been tasked to kidnap, but couldn’t. So she settled for Fíli that night, drugging his ale and taking him across the lake to her handler from Mirkwood. 

She quirked an eyebrow. 

“If you come with me,” Fíli continued, “I could make good on my promise to get you to people who would help you sail.”

At that, Linnéa heaved a deep sigh. She brought a hand up to her head, frustrated at having to hear this offer again. 

The Dwarf prince had made it back then too, when he learned of her predicament, when he tried to bargain with her from behind bars. 

“It’s not that simple,” she replied. 

“I’m not asking.” 

Linnéa felt her stomach drop. Her eyes widened a fraction, but she kept her composure. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Linnéa, no one knows about what happened between us. No one but Kíli.” 

“Why?!” she snapped, irritated at his gall, for forcing her into this position, here, in this mountain full of Dwarves, in this parlor underground. “Why not just set your axes upon me? Why make me abandon my one hope of sailing to Valinor to accompany you?“

“Because I believe you’re good!” he fired back. “I believe things would have been different if someone had helped you.” 

Linnéa’s face twitched slightly in bewilderment. Fíli seemed to study her for a moment before continuing. 

“My family lives,” he said, “we’ve reclaimed our home, because Bilbo helped us. I live now because you helped me. And now I’d like to help you too. I’d like to help you, but you need to get out of here first, away from your handler. And you need to trust me.” 

Linnéa swallowed. She looked away, no longer willing to see the sincerity that glimmered in the dwarf prince’s eyes. He had faced dragonfire and nearly died by an orc’s blade– by all accounts, he shouldn’t still be so earnest.

Trust me. He said that back then, too. He said he’d help her once they reclaimed their mountain. 

If they reclaim their mountain, she had pointed out. They were to face a dragon after all. And she was already so tired, she didn’t know if she could last another hundred years in this land she no longer felt joy in. She told him then she couldn’t place her hopes on an if. 

And then they faced a dragon. And now the mountain was theirs. 

 “Bard wouldn’t let go of his only apothecary,” she mumbled. 

“You’re a big lass, he doesn’t tell you what to do.”  

“And what of my handler?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She turned back to him. Trust me, his eyes seemed to say. Before she could respond, Balin entered to tell them they best be heading to the dining hall soon to meet with Thorin. 

Linnéa mulled over his offer throughout the meeting. 

Later, Bard would be at the gates, waiting for Linnea. He would be relieved to see her hale, then admonish Thorin for taking one of his without seeking permission from him, and with armed guards no less. 

Fíli would glance at Linnéa, she would glance back at him. 

After a moment, she would nod. 

[stevehairingtit]

Writing Patterns Game

This is cute, thank you for the tag @teddywesworl.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Eddie presses his finger against Steve’s asshole, sliding inside easier than he expected, dragging smoothly against the inner walls. Slide It In | Steve/Eddie | E Steve drives home from the hospital with his windows rolled down and the radio off, white knuckling the wheel with one hand and his new baseball bat with the other. In A Sweet Design | Steve/Eddie, Steve/&Tommy/&Carol | T In the end, Steve spends three days in an induced coma and several more blasted out of his mind on a mysterious IV cocktail, but nobody dies. Singing in the Sycamore Trees | Eddie/Nancy/Steve | E The night is cold and humid, fog swirling around Eddie's calves and seeming to propel him through the gardens.  The Floor of Heaven's Lain | Steve/Eddie | E Kas is confusing for Steve. Almost Believe They're Real | Steve/Eddie | T Steve is sitting on the couch, cradling Kas the kitten in his lap, bleeding finger in its greedy little mouth, when Eddie feels it for the first time since he woke up in his new-to-him body having missed all the action.  Living Tissue, Warm Flesh | Steve/Eddie | E When Eddie comes, he shoots a veritable geyser directly into Harrington's beautiful, shocked face.  Come and Turn the Tide | Steve/Eddie | E Alec is prone on the couch in the apothecary, arm thrown over his eyes, joggers low on his hips revealing the unnaturally green skin of his stomach, his new tail occasionally flicking in irritation. It's Not Easy Being Green | Magnus/Alec | T There’s nothing of Magnus in Alec’s room at the Institute. love is a losing game | Magnus/Alec | G There wasn't a corner of Magnus's loft untouched by Alec's presence. alone with the hard feelings | Magnus/Alec | G

I just love the present participle so much.

Tagging @mustlovesteve @jeffgoldblumsmulletinthe90s @geddyqueer

[adventuressclubamericas]

New Orleans Cocktail of the Month for November - The Sazerac

The Sazerac was invented in 1838 by apothecary Antoine Peychaud in his shop on Royal Street. It may have evolved over time – the cognac it was originally made with replaced by rye whiskey, the swirl of absinthe replaced by Herbsaint and Peychaud’s special bitters – but the Sazerac remains one of the quintessential tastes of the Big Easy. So much so that it was declared New Orleans’ Official Cocktail in 2008!

Information provided for educational and entertainment purposes only. Please drink responsibly.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

What are some headcanons on The Heart Siblings?

I'm bad at making headcanons -

But I drew a picture of three out of the Hearts siblings a while back:

There's five of them, but. Well.

The twins are older. They're called Rosa and Jared.

Rosa is the most responsible of the bunch. Not that that's saying much, but, hmm, she's trying? Like, if she saw a child, she wouldn't kick it.

On the whole, the twins are more responsible and *detached* than the triplets.

Both of these names should mean "rose" because I think that's a cool.

The triplets are younger.

Their names are Mečislav(a) (famous by their sword), Vladivoj (he who leads the army) and Kazimíra (she who destroys the peace).

The reason for these names is that I was tired and didn't wanna research English names so I picked these. It contrasts the twins and the Queen of Hearts might have been in a mood when she named them. Also, Wonderland Would.

Mečislav/a is gender fluid. Because it's Wonderland, gender is a social construct unless it makes a neat pattern or a piece of foreshadowing.

(Time is also a social construct. And death. And math. Anthony Tremaine is suffering.)

Anyway, the birth order goes: Rosa, Jared, Mečislav/a, Vladivoj, Kazimíra. (You see, patterns. Wonderland Would.)

The Queen of Hearts barely remembers how much children she has. They were raised mostly by her card soldiers.

The family did get together for teas. (Remember, time is a social construct. And they're worse than the Hooks.) Also Queen's birthdays and improptu games of croquet that might or might not have been held deliberately in Frollo's chapel. (Utter accident, you see.)

CJ and Kazimíra & Vladivoj are not allowed to hang out together.

CJ might or might not have taught Kazimíra how to make a molotov cocktail.

The Hearts taught Claudine Frollo how to use the two-hand sword. (She thought sabres were barbaric and the Hearts are convinced that swords are the superior weapon.) (She put it to good use ✨)

On unrelated note, „Off with your head!“ makes for an excellent greeting.

They love hanging out at the Tremaine hair salon.

Dizzy is super friendly and ergo one of the two people they'll listen to. (The other being glaring Anthony). The fact that she'll talk fashion with them helps, too.

Mečislav/a has a burn from bleach on his/her face. That was NOT a good afternoon in the hair salon.

Rosa is way too invested in Isle relationships drama.

If I ever have to use Red Hearts, that's Kazimíra pissed off beyond belief because no one can pronounce her name.

They're not allowed into Maddy's Apothecary.

[designwallah]

In the apothecary window.

Prequel & Co. Apothecary - a cocktail bar on Queen Street West, Toronto.

I think the apothecary window is just decor.

[vialae]

Past life Durge asks for Kaidos:

2. Did they keep anything from their old family and home? A memento or a skill perhaps? 6. Bhaal loves money; did your Durge inherit that trait? Do they enjoy luxuries or try to live a frugal life, giving their all for their temple? 12. Durge gave a gold coin to a beggar once; why did they do it? Did this occur regularly? Bonus ask: whichever question you wanted to answer most but haven't been asked :)

under the read more again bc i cant keep my answers short and concise lol. thank you for the asks though, i really am enjoying writing these out!!

2. Did they keep anything from their old family and home? A memento or a skill perhaps?

I've been wanting a reason to talk about his family!! I think I've only ever briefly mentioned them in one fic before, but his adoptive family were a tiefling mother (Innise Escaris) and human father (Kadin Escaris. yes they were people who named their kids after themselves. he has a human sister called Inqine). They owned and ran an apothecary in the Lower City, so Kaidos grew up around all sorts of potions and remedies. Pre-tadpole, he had memories of watching his mother nurse children with nasty coughs and overworked fisherman with achy joints seemingly instantly. In his child mind, it seemed like magic.

As soon as he was old enough to be trusted with holding the bottles and the ingredients, he would readily help his parents mix together whatever the people needed. At night, he would take the books on medicine and read them under his covers.

Although a quiet and awkward kid, he knew a hell of a lot about Medicine early on, and it has stuck with him.

6. Bhaal loves money; did your Durge inherit that trait? Do they enjoy luxuries or try to live a frugal life, giving their all for their temple?

He is a sucker for a rich fabric or two. His favourite wine is Suzailian Sweet, so keeping that stocked up can get pretty pricey too. Whenever people come to Bhaal's temple with contracts, Kaidos will typically give himself the higher paying ones (under the excuse that he knows the Upper City better than most others in the temple do) and leave those in the Outer City/Rivington, etc. for lesser Bhaalians. His followers still got their fair share, but certainly not as much as Kaidos did.

After all, he is Bhaal's son.

12. Durge gave a gold coin to a beggar once; why did they do it? Did this occur regularly?

Despite how pampered he was in the temple, Kaidos could still remember what he was like before that time. In the time after his family was gone (by his own hands) but before the luxury of the temple, he did live in abject poverty.

Kaidos had personally been in that beggar's position before, so it really struck a chord with him to see others like that too. To know how bitter and unfeeling the city could be to others, to have been on the receiving end of such a cold shoulder.

The cocktail of feelings he would have felt at the time likely would have panicked him, knowing that the temple would not look favourably upon acts of charity to souls that would have otherwise gone unmissed.

Giving money away would not have been a common occurrence, but when it did happen, it was probably when Kaidos thought Sceleritas Fel wasn't looking.

Bonus/whichever one I want to pick: 9. What would a typical meeting of the chosen have looked like when your Durge attended?

I just wanna talk about them arguing again!!

By the point where they are Chosen and in Moonrise, Kaidos would have been insufferably bratty 'dont you know who my dad is' type of stuck up. Gortash would have found ways around that particular attitude (and probably ways to use it to his advantage to manipulate kai) but I really feel like Ketheric would not stand for it at all.

Kaidos with a nasty attitude, talking at rather than to other attendees of the meeting. Ketheric bluntly letting him know that shit doesn't fly under his roof. Gortash making small remarks to instigate and further encourage Kaidos. Kaidos taking the bait, and it ends up with Bhaal and Myrkul's Chosen arguing for the nth time.

Kaidos is very good at what he does, but he is absolutely awful to try and talk to unless your name is Enver Gortash and you figured him out on day one.

[dungeonmastersconsortium]

Howdy, howdy DMC! Just thought I'd pop by and say sincerely, thank you so much. I have a few hours before I play dnd with some friends, I'm in illinois, and they're all in texas, and I jsut wanted to say I wouldn't know them at all without you! I remember stopping by your twitch and having such a wonderful time watching you play Darkest Dungeon and listen to you talk about playing dnd but gay. I remember then joining your discord server and watching other people talk about playing dnd but gay. I responded to a few different groups forming games and after five years I have found new wonderful lifelong friends and I wouldn't have them today if I hadn't watched you play Darkest Dungeon, lament over Quincy, or coin the phrase Maggie and the Juice Crew. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy thinking on it now and wanted to let you know that it's been fun. Also, routinely for xmas, I have ordered dnd apothecary products for my various friends across the country and I also wouldn't have known of them without you. So far, dear beholder, you have been a net positive experience for me and I'm happy to have ran across your blog.

Oh jeez. I know that this has been sitting in my inbox for a while, but it's because I wasn't 100% sure how to respond in a way that would come off as sincere.

There's no need to lament over Quincy, he came back! No longer dead, and he survived through the end of that run, and managed to Finale the final boss to death! I forgot about Maggie and the Juice Crew, though! Memories.

I'm glad I was able to make a positive impact on your life, no matter how significant or insignificant it is! It means a lot to me that you're telling me, as my neurodivergence and trauma cocktail makes me only reflect on the negative impact I think I've left on people.

Thank you so much! I hope whatever weird experience I'm providing is still enjoyable!

And streaming is returning slowly but surely!

[canisonicscrewyou]

hi !! i got this idea from some of my other mutuals (evildead and ratoffstring and sharktoothedfae) can you tell me about some things you enjoy ? please and thank you !! :3

!!!!! oh boy I just took a big hit off my pen let’s seeeee

I. Love. Making. Little. Drinks. I love the rituals and craft of coffee and tea and cocktails. I love it at my job, and nowadays the only thing I really dislike about being a manager is that it means I can’t bar as often as I’d like. I love it at home where I brew myself & my partner & our roommate coffee with my French press on our days off. I have strong opinions on coffee roasts and types of tea and gin. I love light roasts and used to especially lean towards light roasts so acidic that they’d curdle milk/nondairy/etc. I prefer something that’s less heartburn inducing for my regular nowadays(Starbucks Green Apron & Anniversary Blends my beloved)(Atomic Coffee Cabot Street my beloved)(Trade Coffee in general my beloved). Likewise, I also really like shitty cumbies gas station coffee, and instant coffee, and Arizona iced teas and what have you. I do NOT like energy drinks because most of them are carbonated(yucky)(aside from when it’s alcohol that’s carbonated for some reason?). But I do like Monster’s Lemon or Raspberry Iced Tea if I ever need one. I’m just a beverage opinions girlie.

On a similar note I also really love herbs and other botanicals !! I have a little “apothecary” near my altars and also a big tea/coffee/herbs cart in the kitchen lol, and used to dabble in making different cordials and tinctures and stuff- and I wanna start doing more of that again soon. But I also just like rose and mugwort teas now. I’m in the process of setting up an old snake tank as a little herb garden and I’m excited!!! :3 My mom and I had an herb garden & a vegetable garden (+ the home to one fuckass big blackberry bramble) when I lived with my parents so I’m sosososo excited to make a little one againnnn.

I love cooking dinner and more specifically I love cooking dinner for @demonicomens . I love cooking them good food & experimenting w stuff I think they will like. I also like introducing them to the concept of a sunbutter & jam sandwich(and the next time we get bananas I have promised a sunbutter and banana sandie). I like peeling oranges for them and cutting strawberries into hearts for them. Now I’m just thinking about how much I lovelovelove cooking & baking for other people.

I have lost the energy to ramble. I love decorating my spaces. Here was my living room at some point, I wanna take newer pictures when I put more stuff on the walls (as usual)

Finally that gay bitch the Master (Rory!Master AU my beloved).

Thank youuuuuu