#The Kintsugi Jar

[marcogiovenale]

oggi, 4 maggio, a roma, all'ex mattatoio: "sintropie. mondo e mondo nuovo"

_

[fallingtowers]

i live in the most haunted house in the northern hemisphere because i keep buying cursed dolls and cracking them open like pistachios to release the ghosts inside em. see i've got this business idea and it's to unethically harvest their ectoplasm and sell it in little jars like honey. unfortunately i've hit a snag, namely that ectoplasm tastes like shit and also if you ingest it you permanently lose the capacity to feel joy. so now i've got a bunch of unsatisfied customers who are literally impossible to please banging on my door at all hours. it doesn't really matter though because the ghosts are already constantly slamming all my doors and cabinets so it's just a wall of sound in here at all times anyway. i'm pretty sure i've got tinnitus now but on the upside i've got this new business idea where i repair old dolls with kintsugi and sell them at a ridiculous markup to etsy women in cuffed corduroy pants.

[chaotic-archaeologist]

https://nypost.com/2024/08/28/world-news/boy-4-accidentally-smashes-bronze-age-jar-that-was-at-least-3500-years-old/

Your thoughts?

Personally, I'm kinda sick of museums being required to cater to kids so much. If you're going to do this open air exhibit, kids who don't know how to keep their hands to themselves just shouldn't be allowed in. The glass is there for this very reason.

Actually, I'm with the museum on this one. Is it unfortunate that the vase was broken? Yes. Was the vase a valuable piece of the past? Also yes. But I think the museum did something very cool by not having the artifacts behind glass and are handling this with good grace and the sense to make this a learning opportunity.

Sometimes we overlook the fact that museums often attempt to arrest or freeze artifacts in time. They are kept in controlled conditions to prevent them from deteriorating and even treated to reverse damage. Many things on display on museums are elevated beyond their original value, alienated from their original purpose, and closed off from interaction.

It's incredible that this jar survived as long as it did—and its age is what makes it special—but at the end of the day, it is still a jar. It has now experienced the thing that happens to pretty much every jar that has been or will be. After all, decay is an extant form of life. (If you want to read a very well written and interesting take on decay and archaeology, check out this article by Caitlin DeSilvey.)

The article I linked above provides some important context and the update that the museum is planning on using this as an opportunity to teach about the conservation process. The jar's story is not over; it is being pieced back together and in this next chapter in its life it will be able to tell two stories: one of its life and the other of its rebirth. The museum's approach embraces that, exactly like the Japanese art of Kintsugi.

I also agree with the museum's decision not to punish the child or his family. Things go wrong in museums all the time despite their highly controlled environments, and this is why they have artifacts insured. Sometimes the thing that happens is a child, and by and large museums do not seek damages.

I would encourage you to rethink your stance on museums and children. Museums are for everyone. Children have a right to experience museums and what they have to offer just like anyone else. There are also many studies that discuss how going to museums benefits children.

In this case, perhaps the exhibit design was slightly flawed, but the four year old boy accidentally knocked the jar over because he was curious about what was inside and wanted to investigate. Curiosity is exactly what museums should be encouraging. In an ideal world that curiosity would have been channeled into some other kind of engagement, but the folks who work in museums have a lot on their plates and cannot plan everything perfectly all the time. Even if they could, they often do not have the resources to do so.

Finally, the AP article mentions that the boy and his family were visiting the museum to get away from Hezbollah rocket fire. Regardless of your opinions on the current conflict, everyone deserves to have a safe place to exist. That museums can serve as those spaces is an honor.

I commend the Hecht Museum and the people working there. They 1) successfully provided a place of learning and refuge, 2) opted not for a punitive approach—which is often the default Western model for justice—but a compassionate one, and 3) are using this twist of fate to create programming that will further engage the public.

@museeeuuuum and @museum-spaces would you care to comment?

-Reid

[incorrectphineasandferbquotes]

Doofensmirtz: I live in the most haunted house in the northern hemisphere because I keep buying cursed dolls and cracking them open like pistachios to release the ghosts inside them. You see I have got this business idea and it's to unethically harvest their ectoplasm and sell it in little jars like honey.

Doofensmirtz: Unfortunately I've hit a snag, namely that ectoplasm tastes terrible and also if you ingest it you permanently lose the capacity to feel joy. So now I've got a bunch of unsatisfied customers who are literally impossible to please banging on my door at all hours. It doesn't really matter though because the ghosts are already constantly slamming all my doors and cabinets so it's just a wall of sound in here at all times anyway. I'm pretty sure i've got tinnitus now but on the upside I've got this new business idea where I repair old dolls with kintsugi and sell them at a ridiculous markup to etsy women in cuffed corduroy pants.

[thekimonogallery]

Water jar by Studio of Ninsei, 17th century. Repaired by Rokkaku Shisui with golden joinery (kintsugi), Japan

[veinsfullofstars]

🎨 Kirbtober 2024 Day 4: Headcanon 🎨

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Drawcia - pre-corruption, with scratch-like scars on her torso in place of an eye - smiling proudly and using the patterned trim of her cloak to pat the head of a young Adeleine - shorter and more Ado-inspired in design - as she paints at her little easel, the ground around them smattered with daubs of paint, extra brushes, and curled tubes and clay jars of paint. All is cast in the sepia tone of an old memory. END ID.)

Based on my personal headcanons that Addie and Ado are the same person, and that Drawcia might’ve adopted and raised Addie before… well, you know.

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started on 09/01/24, finished on 09/02/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[bun-lapin]

TWST Mementos HC: Octavinelle

A/N: Headcanons I have for what kind of memento/object of sentimental value the characters from Twisted Wonderland would give you to symbolize your special relationship. This time it's about Octavinelle!

Azul: An expensive, one of a kind teapot and cup that he bought from a master pottery studio. It's a deep blue color decorated with lines of gold in a kintsugi style. He has a matching tea cup and will often bring new tea blends for you to try together.

Jade: A large terrarium he made for you containing soft moss, some ferns, and a few tiny mushrooms. The inside is decorated with beautiful shells and crystals placed carefully in the moss. At night, the mushrooms give off a gentle glow and make the shells and crystals sparkle with light. Whenever Jade visits you, he'll check on the terrarium and offer advice for its care.

Floyd: A candy jar he decorated with googly eyes and a smile made from glued on seashells. The jar itself is made of a beautiful glass with a rainbow sheen. Floyd likes to call the jar "Mr. Candy". When he notices the candy in the jar is getting low, he'll yell "Time to feed Mr. Candy~!" and then dump all the candy he's currently carrying into the jar.

[the-badger-mole]

How Things Fall Apart

Zuko liked to believe that Mai had loved him once. At least, she had once loved a version of him. When he failed to live up to that image she'd built up in his head, all pretext of affection faded in short order.

It wasn't all Mai's fault, Zuko conceded. He had learned to ask her what exactly she wanted as gifts, but he still managed to disappoint. One year, he hadn't been able to afford to replace the diamond bracelet she'd lost during a vacation to Ember Island, so he'd gotten her what he thought was a lovely bracelet with a cheaper alternative stone (the Fire Nation was weathering an inflation crisis, and Zuko thought it would be gauche to spend so much money on the high quality gems imported from the Earth Kingdom instead of increasing the palace staff's salary). Another year, when the country was in a better place financially, Zuko splurged on a new set of throwing knives crafted by the finest blacksmiths under Master Piando's direction. Mai hadn't wanted more steel blades. She wanted the black blades crafted from the meteorite the Southern Tribe's prince had gifted Piando (Zuko's correction about Sokka not being a prince went unheard). It didn't matter that Piando had already made plans on how to use that stone, Zuko was the Fire Lord, and that should mean something. Zuko could do nothing right by Mai. She had still not forgiven him for getting rid of the stately palanquins.

After the birth of their first, and as it would turn out, only child, Mai became more distant. It was an improvement, Zuko told himself philosophically, over shouting matches and heavy objects being thrown at him (Mai never threw a blade at him, and she always made sure whatever she threw hit the wall and not Zuko. He was, after all, the Fire Lord). As long as Mai had access to the royal coffers, relative peace was kept. Zuko was certain that she had at least one lover, but he was content to ignore it, as long as Mai kept up a reasonable amount of discretion. Instability in the Fire Nation's royal family could have far reaching consequences, after all.

Iroh, ever the optimistic presence in Zuko's life, told his nephew about an art practiced in certain parts of the Fire Nation called kintsugi. Instead of throwing away broken things, the artists would carefully gather the broken parts and using a mixture of gold dust and lacquer, piece the broken things back together. The finished products often looked more beautiful than the original. Zuko thought he understood. Finally, fifteen years after he ascended the throne, eleven years after becoming a husband, and seven years after becoming a father, Zuko and the Fire Nation found a sense of equilibrium. The Fire Nation's economy had begun to right itself; a new curriculum designed to fight the decades of propaganda had been approved and implemented; feasible reparation agreements had been reached with the countries most damaged by the war and colonialism. Zuko and Mai only spoke when necessary for public appearances and state functions, and Izumi was growing into a precocious, inquisitive and imaginative child, to say nothing of her firebending prowess. If Zuko's daughter felt the absence of her mother, she hid it very well. Then one day, the peaceful existence Zuko had carved for himself and his child was shattered.

Mai's death was sudden and jarring. Zuko hadn't known anything was wrong until late that night, when a servant, disheveled and out of breath from sprinting to Zuko's chambers from hers, told him that a physician had been called for the Fire Lady, but the outlook was grim.

Officially, Mai had died after suffering from a hemorrhage caused by the miscarriage of her second child. While a few errant rumors floated around for a few months afterwards, the truth (that the child Mai was carrying wasn't Zuko's, and the miscarriage was intentional) was known to only a handful of Zuko's most trusted friends and family. Zuko grieved, though perhaps not as might be expected of a widower suddenly left alone to raise a child. He mourned what might have been if they hadn't married; mourned the family life he would never be able to give his daughter; mourned the lack of a partner who would stand at his side and help him move the country towards a more progressive, inclusive future. Most of all, he mourned the death of his hope of having anything better for himself.

Zuko didn't wallow, though. As little hope as he had left for his own prospects, he wanted Izumi to retain her own bright outlook for the future. He would have some help there with the expected arrival of Katara and her two children. It would be good, Zuko thought, for his daughter to have friends her age. As it would turn out, it was good for Zuko to have a friend around, too. When she stepped off the boat, clothed in a gauzy gold fabric gifted to her by the queen of Omashu, Zuko felt the weight in his heart lighten for the first time in years.

Follow up to Severing the Tie

Next, How Do You Mend?

[incorrectgallifreyquotes]

Arkadian: I live in the most haunted house in the galaxy because I keep buying cursed dolls and cracking them open like pistachios to release the ghosts inside them. You see I have got this business idea and it's to unethically harvest their ectoplasm and sell it in little jars like honey. Arkadian: Unfortunately I've hit a snag, namely that ectoplasm tastes terrible and also if you ingest it you permanently lose the capacity to feel joy. So now I've got a bunch of unsatisfied customers who are literally impossible to please banging on my door at all hours. It doesn't really matter though because the ghosts are already constantly slamming all my doors and cabinets so it's just a wall of sound in here at all times anyway. I'm pretty sure i've got tinnitus now but on the upside I've got this new business idea where I repair old dolls with kintsugi and sell them at a ridiculous markup to etsy women in cuffed corduroy pants.

[lovethytendytenderly]

An Edit A Day Til Penguins Hockey (A Countdown), A Masterlist:

Edit tag // Chronological

Day 33 (Start) - Sid/Rat a Tat

Day 32 -Jars/Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)

Day 31 - NedJars/Grand Theft Autumn

Day 30 - FlowerMurray/The Phoenix

Day 29 - FlowerTanger/Alpha Dog

Day 28 - PeteyRak/Northern Downpour

Day 27 - Graves/Somebody Told Me

Day 26 - Rusty+JakeRust/Where Did the Party Go?

Day 25 - FlowerTalbo/I've Got All This Ringing…

Day 24 - Geno/Novocaine

Day 23 - JultzMaatta/Bang the Doldrums

Day 22 - SidFlower(Geno)/Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown...

Day 21 - Core(SidGenoTanger)/Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years)

Day 20 - Horny/Immortals

Day 19 - Sunshine/Love From the Other Side

Day 18 - Cheesby/Young Volcanos

Day 17 - Rusty/I've Been Waiting

Day 16 - ZuckerRust/Fourth of July

Day 15 - Tanger/The Kids Aren’t Alright

Day 14 - Kuni /Dear Future Self (Hands Up)

Day 13 - Geno+Zucker/Build God Then We’ll Talk

Day 12 - TeddyJars+NedJars/G.I.N.A.S.F.S

Day 11 - SidTanger/The Phoenix

Day 10 - DOC/Teenagers

Day 9 - Duper/The Phoenix

Day 8 - Dumo/Helena

Day 7 - Cully/7 Nation Army

Day 6 - Sid/Lake Effect Kid

Day 5 - Jars/Jet Pack Blues

Day 4 - EK/Hum Hallelujah

Day 3 - Tanger/Alone Together

Day 2 - Geno/So Much (For) Stardust

Day 1 - Sid/Thnks Fr th Mmrs

Day 0 (Final) - SidGeno/27

Bonus Features:

Rusty extras (1) (2)

Build God Then We’ll Talk (Geno)

Arizona Coyotes/Miss Missing You

Kintsugi Kid Research

[marcogiovenale]

"sintropie": il 4 maggio a roma

_

[rigormortissettingin]

about me

my name is not Hannah

I am a minor do not come for me old man

I live in England but I kind of like it

eye colour: greeny greyish

hair colour: brunette

fav subjects at school: english, latin and biology

hobbies: reading, playing piano, playing cello, writing, baking

taste in books: to kill a mockingbird, the secret history, the outsider, the virgin suicides, girl interrupted, the queen’s gambit, frankenstein, dracula, lolita, anything by Oscar Wilde and Franz Kafka and Edgar Allen Poe, the bell jar

taste in films: the aristocats, the virgin suicides, bambi, buffalo ‘66, girl, interrupted, dead poets society, heathers, pearl, romeo and juliet, the year of living dangerously, beetle juice, the breakfast club,

taste in music: lana del rey, fiona apple, princess chelsea, hole, mitzki, tv girl, nirvana, the velvet underground and lou reed and nico, deftones, ethel cain, nancy and frank sinatra, mazzystar, cigarettes after sex, arctic monkeys, air, marina, taylor swift, the psychedelic furs, the smiths, the neighbourhood, melanie martinez, cults, abba, beach house, bon iver, queen, roar

favourite people: my mother, my father, my grandparents, the very short mental list of friends, anya taylor joy, lana del rey, fiona apple, winona ryder, angelina jolie, timothee chalamalabingbong, lana del rey, christina ricci, grace kelley, frank and nancy sinatra, marilyn monroe, lana del rey, dakota warren, lana del rey

favourite colours: pink, red and blue

fun fact: i can fit my whole fist into my mouth

likes:

my mother

my father

my grandparents

candles

lana del rey

book

music

reading

dying

writing

school (not the people in it)

fluffy socks

warm showers

long skirts

being a girl (sometimes)

patrick bateman

kafka

the bell jar

smiling at strangers

dancing in my room

singing in showers

flowers

strawbeerries

grass

lying in the sun

bunnies

dogs

cats

gilmore girls

gothic horror literature

cecilia and bonnie lisbon

vintage films

hitchcock films

polly torch clark

fiona apple

princess chelsea

kintsugi (song)

crying

the smell of smoke

rain

God

mia goth

anything cinnamon related

second hand books + bookshops

80s and 90s films

gruesomely and disgusting horror films

lady dakota warren

thank you very much for spending your time reading this

[eggyslang]

haven’t been posting much lately bc ive been on a huge JAR media kick for the past couple weeks. heres a little drawing dump of stuff ive posted to the reddit :] [im eggyslang on there too]

the first one is inspired by james’ 4 years later video where he brings up kintsugi.

the trio is the jar guys as classic halloween monsters [wolfman, headless horseman, frank’s monster]

the last drawing is the guys wearing outfits inspired by their pets

[teaandsconeswrites]

Childe’s Antique Smashing Guide to Wooing Your Favourite Ex-archon

A short oneshot based on the prompt request from my Twitter ‘Creating Art Inspired by them’

Read below or on AO3 here!

*   *   *

It’s polite to bring a gift when reuniting with a friend after time spent apart, and as Childe’s ship pulls into Liyue, he has the perfect idea to present to Zhongli at their lunchtime meeting tomorrow.

It doesn’t matter why he’s been thinking about this the entire trip, it doesn’t matter why he requested a week-long diversion in Liyue before their final stop in Snezhnaya, and it doesn’t matter why his palms sweat at the thought of seeing Zhongli again. All that matters is he has a good idea—the best idea—that Zhongli will soon be the proud recipient of.

As Yoimiya had guided him around Inazuma City, picking up all manner of books, silks, and snacks for his siblings, nothing held the level of sophistication and particularity Zhongli values in his belongings. That was until he spotted a beautiful vase on display in the corner of Uyuu Restaurant, the body a stunning deep blue, golden lines webbed through the surface, glimmering in the flicker of the lantern light. That was when Yoimiya had taught him about kintsugi, the Inazuman art of repairing broken pottery with gold.

It was perfect for Zhongli, but unfortunately not for sale, so instead he steps into the cool night air of Liyue’s docks armed not with forged Sigils of Permission or weapons of mass destruction, but with a small instruction sheet Yoimiya had written out for him. He heads straight to Xigu Antiques and picks out a beautiful white jar with blue patterning that will go perfectly on Zhongli’s dining table. Zhongli is going to love it.

With his purchase safely packed in its box, Childe heads down to Master Zhang at Hanfeng’s Ironmongers. The bitter smoke of the forge is heavy in the air, and the clang of metal against metal sounds from the back corner.

“Master Zhang!” Childe waves in the direction he presumes Zhang to be, although it’s impossible to see in the combination of the darkness and smoke. “I’ve got a favour to ask.”

There's one final touch of customisation to prepare for his upcoming masterpiece. Instead of gold, he shall melt mora, the very embodiment of Zhongli himself, and use it to craft the fine lines which will set the most beautiful piece of art Zhongli shall ever see.

Morax-inspired kintsugi—what could make a better gift for Rex Lapis himself?

While initially reluctant to let a Fatui Harbinger melt a pot of mora enough to buy a week’s worth of meals in his forge, the second pot of mora now sitting by Zhang’s belongings is enough for him to relent, granting Childe the use of his forge for the evening.

As he waits for the mora to melt, Childe takes the jar out of its box and places it in a spare sack he procures from the forge’s stores. A few light taps with a hammer and there’s the telltale clatter of fracturing ceramic, chiming softly when Childe shakes the bag.

Perfect.

The process of repairing the jar is surprisingly straightforward. About halfway through the operation, Zhang’s interest is piqued and he steps in to assist, holding the smaller pieces in place while Childe seals them.

Before long the masterpiece is complete and Childe sets it on the workbench, admiring the traces of gold trailing through the aqua decor. Blue and gold go quite nicely together, he notes, not able to pinpoint why that thought sends an excited shiver through him.

He keeps it in view of his hotel bed that night, occasionally cracking his eyes open to check on his gift. Will Zhongli smile when Childe gives it to him, or will he ponder over it, hand on his chin as he inspects every inch of Childe’s craftsmanship?

Both would be nice.

When morning comes he doesn’t wait until their designated meeting time and he doesn’t go to Wanmin. Instead he goes to meet Zhongli at the funeral parlour, nearly dropping the box the jar is in when instead of the Ferrylady meeting him at the door, he’s greeted by a pair of golden eyes he hasn’t seen for over a year.

His mouth goes dry and his jaw is stiff as he attempts to form a greeting. “Uh, hey. Long time, no see, huh?”

Zhongli takes him in, eyes scanning every inch of Childe, lingering momentarily on the box before meeting his gaze with warmth. “Childe, you arrived early.”

“Ah, yeah. I got you something. Thought it might be easier to give it to you here.”

Yep, that’s the reason. He definitely wasn’t so excited to meet Zhongli that he couldn’t wait to get to the restaurant.

“A thoughtful gesture, this is a welcome surprise. Please, do come in.”

Zhongli leads him through the funeral parlour, past a corridor of suspiciously closed doors. Zhongli affirms that they definitely do not hold any bodies in this area of the parlour, despite Hu Tao’s ominous warning to Childe about “ghosts” and “angry spirits” as they pass her at the front desk.

They enter the door at the far end, which brings Childe to the large office he’s long familiar with. It’s changed a bit since the last time he was last here—a new painting in the corner, a different stack of books propped on the desk—but Childe’s old chair remains sat beside the desk, and he slides onto it, popping Zhongli’s gift on the desk.

Kicking his heels up on the corner, Childe folds his hands behind his neck. Keeping it casual, and definitely not like Zhongli’s gaze on him sends a prickle down his neck and his heart slamming against his chest. Nope, absolutely not.

Zhongli lingers beside the box, eyeing Childe’s feet propped on his desk, brow twitching.

“Go on, open it.” Childe swings his feet to the floor and leans over to tap Zhongli’s hand. “I made it specially for you.”

“A creative pursuit?” Zhongli snaps his attention to the box. “Such effort for my sake… it is appreciated.”

“Come on, I’m waiting.”

“There is no need to rush. It is a greater indulgence to take a moment to consider the effort expounded during the creation of—” “Zhongli!” Childe could shake the man. “Just do it!”

With a quiet chuckle, Zhongli eases the lid off and sets it aside before peering into the box. His brow furrows and his head tilts to the side. “It appears that the item has suffered a breakage. This is quite unfortunate.”

“Well, it has, but that’s kind of the point.” Childe lifts out his masterwork and sets it in its rightful place at the centre of the desk. “The esteemed Inazuman art of kintsugi, made especially for you. So, what do you think?”

“I see.” Zhongli nods thoughtfully. “You discovered this artifact in a state of disrepair and sought to restore it to a more practical condition.”

“Uhh, not quite.”

Eyeing Childe cautiously, Zhongli speaks slowly, “You purchased the artifact in a state of disrepair?”

Childe experiences a peculiar sinking feeling in his gut. “Not quite that either, xiansheng.”

Zhongli’s voice lowers, curling his fingers around the edge of the desk. “The artifact experienced an unfortunate accident after its purchase?”

“You might say that.”

Zhongli sways precariously and Childe grabs the other chair, dragging it behind Zhongli. With a strained sigh, Zhongli sinks into it, eyes glazed as they remain locked on the jar. “Childe, please tell me what happened.”

“Well, I was in Inazuma when I heard about the whole putting stuff back together with gold thing, so I thought I'd make my own. I bought the jar, took it to the blacksmith, used a hammer and…” Childe makes a motion of hitting a hammer against an object and Zhongli sinks further in the chair.

“You smashed it…” Zhongli’s voice is small and pitiful, and Childe loathes to continue, but there’s no backing out of this now.

“Yeah, and then I melted some mora and used that to put it back together.” Childe swallows, his voice rising in pitch. “It looks nice though… right?”

“Then I am correct in summarising that you melted mora, Rex Lapis’ gift to the people of Liyue, in order to repair a priceless Guili Era artifact after you”—Zhongli makes a strange choked sound—“smashed it with a blacksmith’s hammer?”

“Yes?” Archons, it sounds terrible when Zhongli puts it that way. “Wait, a Guili Era artifact?”

Zhongli looks positively haunted, the shape of his knuckles pressing through the back of his gloves. “Indeed.”

“Oh. Oops.”

Oops doesn’t half cover it. Childe knows the history—Zhongli was the one who taught him most of it—and the significance of the name, ‘Guili’.

He’s done a Very Big Oops.

“Ah shoot, I’m sorry, Zhongli, I didn’t know.” Childe grabs the offending item and packs it into the box, shielding Zhongli from its scandalous presence. “I meant to make you something nice as a gift, seeing as it’s been so long, but it looks like I—”

“Wait.” Zhongli places his hand on Childe’s, and a jolt runs up Childe’s arm. “Please, let me see it.”

“Uh, sure.” Childe’s mind is fuzzy from Zhongli’s touch and he eases the jar back out of the box, setting it on the desk in front of Zhongli. “Here is it.”

Zhongli leans in with a studious hum, examining every line of mora running through the design. He picks it up and places it on his lap, slowly tracing over the lines. “And you said you made this, by your own hand, with the intent of gifting it to me?”

“Right. But I didn’t know it was from the Guili era, or really anything notable at all. It seemed like the sort of thing you like, so when I got back last night, I went straight to Zhang’s place to start working on it. I should’ve at least researched the design though. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break something important to you.”

“It seems you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t that much trouble, really. If you don’t like it, I can take it away.” Childe reaches for the jar, but Zhongli catches his wrist. Childe freezes.

Wearing a kind smile, Zhongli guides Childe’s hand back to his side. “That shall not be necessary, although it would appear you have walked a thousand miles to present a swan feather.”

“Huh?” Childe looks between the jar and Zhongli. Has the old man finally lost it? “That’s a jar, not a feather.”

Zhongli chuckles, low and fond, his fingers wrapped around Childe’s pulse point, sending lightning along his nerves. “I mean to say that the value of this particular gift is not in the item itself, but in the intent with which it was prepared.”

“Right. So you’re not offended?”

“No. You were not to know of its significance.” Zhongli sets the jar at the centre of his desk with a proud smile. “It shall remain here, as a reminder of your generous intent upon our reunion.”

Childe’s chest swells and bubbles, and he subconsciously allows himself to step closer to Zhongli. “So you’re still up for lunch then?”

“Naturally.” Zhongli stands, sweeping a glance over Childe before meeting his eyes with a consuming gaze. “It is good to see you again, Childe.”

“And you.” Childe offers his arm, suppressing a shiver when Zhongli takes it and presses against him. “Shall we be off then?”

“Yes, or we shall miss our reservation with Miss Xiangling.” Zhongli gestures toward the door. “To our most wonderful reunion.”

[patternwelded-quill]

Finally starting something I've been meaning to since covid. Okay, a lot longer bit this time I'm cheating and using a diy kit.

Kintsugi, for those unfamiliar with the word, refers to the Japanese art of pottery repair with lacquer and gold/silver dust. The idea is the break and repair is part of the item's history and highlighted.

My lacquer is doneskies and needs replaced, and while I have silversmith experience for blade ornaments... well I'm poor.

So this is more epoxsugi? Practicing on a broken kitchen jar lid. Come follow me on this journey as I huff glue fumes and mica (myka?) powder... I mean fix this lid.

[thekidsarentalright]

okay ik i already said kintsugi kid and kids aren’t alright but. i have these glass jars that literally have ATLAS on them and whenever i see them my brain lights up and i go Hey! ✨✨ so yeah whenever i make myself a fancy drink you’re there lmao

oh and maps. any maps. u are simply a geography nerd and Some Jars to me KAJSJSJ

omg hiiii spi <3 HFKRNFKF that is all i wanna be remembered for . maps and jars and also my favorite songs i love that sm helpfnjfnfj <333 whenever u make a fancy drink we r drinking it together hanging out <3