#cremes des mains

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: A Human’s Oath

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The Praxis Prefecture was one of the few galactic powers that held on to the notion of kings and queens even as they reached the star faring age of their people. Praxians were largely bipedal species much similar to humans save for their skin being varying shades of crimson and their eyes cold black.

Every few years they would hold a series of games meant to entertain the masses of their realm and dissuade them from thinking about their diminishing lifestyle. At the end of these games was the creme de la crème event known simply as “The Gauntlet” which was the main focus for all who attended.

Comprised of a series of brutal and harrowing challenges, with some even resulting in death should one fail, the reward for passing through “The Gauntlet” and reaching the end alive was the most special prize one could ever dream of; a royal wish granted by the reigning family themselves. A winner could ask for anything should it be within their power, not go against the laws of their realm; nor impact the royal family themselves. That last one was instituted after several winners tried to directly marry into the royal family as their prize.

It had been several long years since “The Gauntlet” had produced a victor and many this year were expecting the same. The bodies quickly began mounting as contestant after contestant failed and died during the trials which only further scared away the previous applicants until only one remained; a lone alien hailing from a species that identified themselves as “Human”.

This seeming paragon proceeded to survive challenge after challenge with nary a scratch on them as they edged ever closer to the end of the deadly encounters. When the final Gorgonuk lay dead, its head caved in from repeated blows from a common rock, the human stood victorious to the cheering throngs who had watched their journey.

A hush fell over the crowd as the royal family descended to the human atop their floating platform and congratulated their victory.

“Name your wish.” The elderly king said.

Without hesitation the human replied “I wish for a place in your honor guard.”

The crowd was silent; perplexed by the insanity of the human’s wish. They could have asked for a fortune so vast it would take three dozen generations to spend, or be given an entire world to rule as a king in their own right, even should they have a darkened heart ask for every first born to swear loyalty to themselves; yet they had instead asked to join the royal family’s personal guard.

No human had ever joined the honor guard as it had been an institutional rule that only Praxians could join. However, this rule was not an official law and as such did not violate the rules of agreement for the wish granting.

“Very well,” the king spoke, “kneel.”

The human dropped to one knee as the king withdrew a slender sword from his cane.

“By the decree of flesh and blood,” the king began as he stabbed the right shoulder of the human and withdrew it dripping with blood, “do I bind you to my family’s service, until the end of time itself. Arise now, and take your rightful place.” The human rose to their feet, blood running from their shoulder wound and gathering as a small puddle at their feet, and nodded thanks to the king as the crowd cheered once more.

The oath had been made and accepted.

 With that climactic ending the games were finished and the realm returned to their day to day lively hoods. The human was inducted into the ranks of the honor guard as was promised and immediately began training.

It was a grueling affair made worse by the general disdain the present honor guard held towards the human. Many had spent their entire lives in service to the royal family and had descended from long family lines whose loyalty had stretched back to the founding of their galactic realm. Yet now here stood a common cur in their eyes, who won their place by sheer luck.

Days of training became weeks, weeks became months, and then finally months became years until finally the human was deemed ready and was given a suit of royal power armor.  Armed with the latest weaponry, armor, and generator systems; the royal power armor turned any individual into a walking tank capable of leveling entire armies by themselves.

Though the human was jubilant at finally donning the armor, times outside the palace were far from pleasant.

The wealth and prosperity of the kingdom had fluctuated greatly and the common citizen now openly questioned the wisdom of their rulers. Some even dared to openly ask if they needed a royal family and if they could not govern themselves better.

Idle tavern talk grew to marches in the streets until one day an angry mob that stretched out to the horizon stood in front of the royal palace and demanded the end of the royal family.

What was worse was that at the head of this violent host stood several royal guards clad in their armor who had defected to the mob’s side. Within the palace the royal family feared for their safety and wept at the notion that this would be the end of their legacy. To their surprise the lone human who had won his place in their guard stepped forward and proclaimed that they alone would handle the crisis and that they had nothing to fear.

Striding outside the palace alone, the human came before the masses and demanded to speak with their former comrades. The gathering slowly parted as the traitor guards stepped forward and faced off with the human.

There were five in total, led by none other than the former leader of the royal guard Dem’va’rok.

“Stand aside human.” Dem proclaimed; their voice booming from the speakers built into their armor. “Your blood is not what we seek this day.”

The human said nothing as they slowly looked across the helms of their once allies.

“Does he speak for you all?” the human asked softly. “You would forsake your oaths of duty to your king?”

One by one the traitors nodded and Dem grinned.

“What is duty compared to needs of our people?” Dem asked.

The human’s hands tightened around their weapons.

“A question you will take to your grave.”

With a swift motion the human lashed out and removed the heads of four of the traitors leaving Dem alone. The clattering of helmets filled with severed heads echoed across the crowd as they watched the purple blood flow from the open neck wounds; the bodies collapsing like puppets whose strings had finally been cut.

Several onlookers from the crowd screamed out in horror and recoiled from the violence. From there it set off a wave of panic that flashed across the mob like wildfire until all of them were scattering across the hills. Dem could hear their screams as they fled in panic, yet his eyes lay focused on the human who stood before him.

Unlike his alien compatriots who had grown lax and slothful with their duties, the human had spent every day training hard to prove their worth and their right to stand amongst them. What had once been a glorious order of wardens and guards of the royal family had become decadent and a mockery of what it had once been.

Dem drew his own sword and prepared to face the human but was surprised when they instead drove their sword into the ground.

“I won’t need that for what comes next.” -----------------------------------

An hour later the lone human returned to the throne room followed by four leaders of the mob.

The royal family watched in horror as each of them carried a severed head of a traitor royal guard with the human carrying the bloody remains of Dem’va’rok’s head. Their gantlets were stained with still fresh blood from where the human had used their bare hands to pull the former master’s head from their body.

“My lord,” the human spoke as they bowed and presented the head of Dem’va’rok “, the fools who cast aside your generosity have been dealt with and shall trouble you no more.”

They motioned to the cowering leaders behind them. “These are some of your subjects that wish to present their grievances to you and seek your wisdom in their resolution.”

Fear compelled all of the former ring leaders to nod their heads rapidly as they held back tears of fear.

“Do not be afraid.” The human counseled them, “For our king is as wise as he is compassionate. He will hear the words of his loyal subjects, but I will suffer none of those who have betrayed such kindness.”

With that the human stepped away and the ring leaders spoke their grievances and to their surprise the king listened to them and did not have them slain on the spot. What had been the day to end a kingdom became the day of a kingdoms evolution into something new.

Not all of the demands were met, but not all were dismissed so easily. New governing bodies were formed under the king to assist the well-being of his citizens while the king remained in complete control. As a result the overall situation of the realm began to slowly lighten and improve as years went by until the loyalty to the royal family was once more shared in every dwelling.

Yet none could say if it was from true love of the king, or from the fear the piercing gaze of the new leader of the honor guard instilled upon all that looked upon them.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Liqueurs

Liqueurs

Also known as cordials.

Distilled spirits that feature flavorings such as fruits, herbs, and spices.

Heavy, sweet, and complexly flavored drinks.

These sweet alcoholic beverages are used to make cocktails, or can be served alone as aperitifs or digestifs.

Making Liqueurs

Involves adding fruits, sugar, cream, spices, herbs, nuts, and flavorings to a liquor base at a distillery.

The sweetness of liqueurs is their most common feature.

Although, they can range widely in sugar content.

Popular types of liqueurs: orange liqueurs, herbal liqueurs, and coffee liqueurs.

Liqueur vs. Liquor

Both are drinks with high alcohol content and similar-sounding names.

However, there are essential differences between these two categories:

Fermentation: Liquor—also known as hard alcohol, spirits, or distilled spirits—is a category of alcoholic beverages that ferment and undergo distillation. In the distillation process, heat and condensation increase the alcohol content, and a significant portion of the water boils off, concentrating the alcohol and particular compounds. Liquors usually starting with a grain base (distillers occasionally use fruits). The six main categories are whiskey, brandy, rum, vodka, gin, and tequila.

Flavorings: Most liqueurs begin with liquor as a base; then, distillers add herbs, spices, and other flavorings. Bartenders can serve liqueurs as-is or add them in small amounts to a liquor base to form mixed drinks.

Sugar: The main difference between liquor and liqueur is sweetness. Liqueurs are intensely flavored with the most predominant note usually being sweetness. Flavoring herbs and oils and added sugar provide flavor and texture.

Alcohol content: Both liqueurs and liquors have a range of alcohol content. Most liquor is in the 40 to 55 percent range of Alcohol by Volume (ABV), or 80 to 110 proof. Liqueurs typically contain more ingredients, so the alcohol content is generally lower, from 15 to 30 percent ABV or 30 to 60 proof.

15 Popular Types of Liqueurs

There is a wide range of liqueurs, from cream-based cordials to proprietary recipes.

Amaretto: An Italian liqueur made from apricot kernels, which give the liquor a distinctly bitter almond flavor. Its name comes from amaro, the Italian word for “bitter.” Sweeter notes of brown sugar temper the bitterness of the apricot pits. It contains 21 to 28% ABV and can be sipped alone or added to cocktails.

Amaro: A broad category of regional Italian bitters. Made from either a neutral spirit or brandy, this bitter liqueur is a staple in the Italian lifestyle. A curated blend of botanical ingredients—typically an inherited recipe that includes herbs, spices, and flowers, as well as barks and roots like gentian root, cinchona, and wormwood—gives each variety of amaro its unique flavor. Campari, Cynar, Fernet Branca, and Aperol are popular amaro liqueur brands.

Anise liqueurs: Anice, the primary flavoring agent in black licorice, is a popular ingredient in alcoholic drinks in many countries and cultures: Ouzo in Greece, Sambuca and Galliano in Italy, Pernod Absinthe in France, and Raki in Turkey, among others.

Chambord: A popular brand of raspberry-flavored liqueur. The ingredients are red and black raspberries, honey, vanilla, and cognac. Chambord is great for making Raspberry Mojitos and Raspberry Margaritas.

Cream liqueurs: Thick, sweet liqueurs made with the addition of milk or a milk substitute, along with sweetener, to provide a creamy sweetness to the drink. Baileys Irish Cream liqueur and Amarula are two examples of cream liqueurs.

Creme liqueurs: Creme liqueurs are thick, sweet, syrup-like beverages. Unlike cream liqueurs, creme liqueurs do not contain dairy. Instead, added sugar provides a thick consistency. Crème de cassis (made from blackcurrants), crème de cacao, (a chocolate liqueur) and crème de menthe are different flavors of this category.

Coffee liqueurs: These liqueurs contain caffeine, and the predominant flavor is coffee. Coffee liqueurs, such as Kahlúa from Mexico or Irish Sheridan, are generally served with cream and sugar.

Elderflower liqueurs: These herbal liqueurs provide a light, floral note to cocktail recipes. St. Germain is a popular brand of elderflower liqueur.

Limoncello: A liqueur flavored with lemon peel. Limoncello is strong, sweet, and bright yellow.

Medicinal: Some liqueurs, such as Chartreuse and Benedictine, were initially used for medicinal purposes. These liqueurs tend to be floral and highly complex, with an ingredient list that remains secretive.

Orange liqueurs: These liqueurs feature predominant orange flavors, and are broadly known under the labels curaçao or Triple Sec. Popular brands include Cointreau and Grand Marnier.

Schnapps: Some varieties of schnapps do not classify as liqueurs, but those with added sweetness and flavoring agents, such as peach schnapps and peppermint schnapps, are liqueurs.

Drambuie: This Scottish liqueur has a base spirit of Scotch whiskey and a proprietary blend of herbs and spices.

Frangelico: Italian liqueur flavored with roasted hazelnuts; comes in a uniquely shaped bottle, modeled after a Christian monk, complete with a rope belt.

Strega: Italian herbal liqueur that gets its name from the Italian word for witch. The distinctive yellow color comes from saffron, imparting flavor to the liqueur.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Food History Wine-tasting ⚜ Drunkenness ⚜ Drinking ⚜ Literary & Hollywood Cocktails

[mothhball]

HELLO?

I appreciate your writings sm And these are not just words for starting requests, like I really like them. I would like to request. Jonathan crane x reader when the reader comforts him after whatever it's gonna be... So the drink will contain Gin+Creme de cacao+grapefruit juise,lime juice+pickles Hope I understood the requesting rules correctly so beforehand thank you(I rly love the idea but my cocktail is crazy 💥💥)

Gentle Patience

Nolanverse!Scarecrow x Reader

summary headcanons + physical hurt/comfort + cuddles + neck kisses + ❛ I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired. ❜

warnings stubborn, injured Jon, mentions of his past of being bullied (comic canon)

notes thank you so much for ordering and thank you even more for your lovely words <3 first time writing headcanons aaaa

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: n/a

God, he’s just like an injured stray cat

Expect him to try and avoid you at first, even if you live together.

And he’s surprisingly sneaky, even with a cracked rib and a limp in his step

Growing up as little bullied Jon Crane meant that he had to learn how to take care of himself FAST, and sadly, he got used to patching up wounds all by himself and toughing out the pain

Turns out his practice at sewing his masks comes in handy when he’s sewing up himself

An injured Jonathan will come home late on purpose, trying to make sure you’re asleep so you can’t fuss over him

It never works

Whenever you get the slightest suspicions that he’s out there, getting his ass handed to him, you stay up for him until he gets back

He’ll complain about it (ofc he does)

But while he’s still trying to undress and drag himself into bed, you’re already pulling him into the bathroom. His attempts to dissuade you, obviously, but it’s not working. And when he finally snaps and your grip on him falters, he feels even worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.” “Tired or not, we’ll need to get you fixed up…”

His injuries always look worse in the light, and he hates the brief flicker of pity in your eyes when you look at him, but he knows it’s not because you find him pathetic.

He’ll grumble and complain while you check him out, trying to play it off like you’re the crazy one for insisting to take care of him for once.

Especially at the beginning of your relationship, he’s not used to physical affection or tender touches. He’s not even used to a kind word, so he’ll be a little overwhelmed. Not that he’d tell you, of course.

But he’ll warm up, and you’ll notice. His shoulders relax, he’ll lean into your touch, and his inner monolog of beating himself up stops for a moment.

Where he once frowned and squirmed away, he now sighs contentedly as you pepper his skin with kisses, making sure to be gentle with his scrapes and bruises.

The neck kisses are his secret favorites.

For a man who seems so grand and cocky when he’s in his element, he sometimes gets scared that you’ll see in him the little boy he used to be. A victim of cruelty who couldn’t defend himself. Like he still sees himself sometimes.

It’s a little tricky to balance the urge to reassure him and the necessity to give him his space, but if he allows you to hold him afterwards, you know you’ve got the hang of it.

It’s one of those quiet moments, then. Moments when he’s exhausted and hurt, and you’re both waiting for the pain meds to properly kick in. Moments when he sinks into your arms and willingly lets himself be the little spoon.

And you know that even before he says it, he’s thankful to have you by his side.

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 3 EPISODE 07 || CREME DE MENTHE ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

The city glowed all around us, as though sharing our happiness.

Edinburgh lay under a haze that would soon thicken to rain again, but for now, the light of the setting sun hung gold and pink and red in the clouds, and shone in the wet patina of the cobbled street, so that the gray stones of the buildings softened and streamed with reflected light, echoing the glow that warmed my cheeks and shone in Jamie’s eyes when he looked at me. Drifting down the street in this state of softheaded self-absorption, it was several minutes before I noticed anything amiss. A man, impatient of our meandering progress, stepped briskly around us, and then came to a dead stop just in front of me, making me trip on the wet stones and throw a shoe. He flung up his head and stared skyward for a moment, then hurried off down the street, not running, but walking as fast as he could go. “What’s the matter with him?” I said, stooping to retrieve my shoe. Suddenly I noticed that all around us, folk were stopping, staring up, and then starting to rush down the street. “What do you think—?” I began, but when I turned to Jamie, he too was staring intently upward. I looked up, too, and it took only a moment to see that the red glow in the clouds above was a good deal deeper than the general color of the sunset sky, and seemed to flicker in an uneasy fashion most uncharacteristic of sunsets. “Fire,” he said. “God, I think it’s in Leith Wynd!”

At the same moment, someone farther down the street raised the cry of “Fire!” and as though this official diagnosis had given them leave to run at last, the hurrying figures below broke loose and cascaded down the street like a herd of lemmings, anxious to fling themselves into the pyre. A few saner souls ran upwards, past us, also shouting “Fire!” but presumably with the intent of alerting whatever passed for a fire department. Jamie was already in motion, tugging me along as I hopped awkwardly on one foot. Rather than stop, I kicked the other shoe off, and followed him, slipping and stubbing my toes on the cold wet cobbles as I ran. The fire was not in Leith Wynd, but next door, in Carfax Close. The mouth of the close was choked with excited onlookers, shoving and craning in an effort to see, shouting incoherent questions at one another. The smell of smoke struck hot and pungent through the damp evening air, and waves of crackling heat beat against my face as I ducked into the close. Jamie didn’t hesitate, but plunged into the crowd, making a path by main force. I pressed close behind him before the human waves could close again, and elbowed my way through, unable to see anything but Jamie’s broad back ahead of me. Then we popped out in the front of the crowd, and I could see all too well. Dense clouds of gray smoke rolled out of both the printshop’s lower windows, and I could hear a whispering, crackling noise that rose above the noise of the spectators as though the fire were talking to itself. “My press!” With a cry of anguish, Jamie darted up the front step and kicked in the door. A cloud of smoke rolled out of the open doorway and engulfed him like a hungry beast. I caught a brief glimpse of him, staggering from the impact of the smoke; then he dropped to his knees and crawled into the building.[...]

I couldn’t think that the efforts of the bucket brigade, valiant as they were, would have much effect on what was obviously a fire well underway.[...]

Edinburgh is a stone city, but with so many buildings crammed cheek by jowl, all equipped with multiple hearths and chimneys, fire must be still a frequent occurrence. Evidently so, for a fresh commotion behind me betokened the belated arrival of the fire engine. The waves of people parted like the Red Sea, to allow passage of the engine, drawn by a team of men rather than horses, which could not have negotiated the tight quarters of the wynds. The engine was a marvel of brass, glowing like a coal itself in the reflected flames. The heat was becoming more intense; I could feel my lungs dry and labor with each gulp of hot air, and was terrified for Jamie. How long could he breathe, in that hellish fog of smoke and heat, let alone the danger of the flames themselves? “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Ian, forcing his way through the crowd despite his wooden leg, had appeared suddenly by my elbow. He grabbed my arm to keep his balance as another rain of objects forced the people around us back again. “Where’s Jamie?” he shouted in my ear. “In there!” I bellowed back, pointing. There was a sudden bustle and commotion at the door of the printshop, with a confused shouting that rose even over the sound of the fire. Several sets of legs appeared, shuffling to and fro beneath the emergent plume of smoke that billowed from the door. Six men emerged, Jamie among them, staggering under the weight of a huge piece of bulky machinery—Jamie’s precious printing press. They eased it down the step and pushed it well into the crowd, then turned back to the printshop. Too late for any more rescue maneuvers; there was a crash from inside, a fresh blast of heat that sent the crowd scuttling backward, and suddenly the windows of the upper story were lit with dancing flames inside. A small stream of men issued from the building, coughing and choking, some of them crawling, blackened with soot and dampened with the sweat of their efforts. The engine crew pumped madly, but the thick stream of water from their hose made not the slightest impression on the fire. Ian’s hand clamped down on my arm like the jaws of a trap. “Ian!” he shrieked, loud enough to be heard above the noises of crowd and fire alike. I looked up in the direction of his gaze, and saw a wraithlike shape at the second-story window. It seemed to struggle briefly with the sash, and then to fall back or be enveloped in the smoke. My heart leapt into my mouth. There was no telling whether the shape was indeed Young Ian, but it was certainly a human form. Ian had lost no time in gaping, but was stumping toward the door of the printshop with all the speed his leg would allow. “Wait!” I shouted, running after him. Jamie was leaning on the printing press, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and thank his assistants at the same time. “Jamie!” I snatched at his sleeve, ruthlessly jerking him away from a red-faced barber, who kept excitedly wiping sooty hands on his apron, leaving long black streaks among the smears of dried soap and the spots of blood. “Up there!” I shouted, pointing. “Young Ian’s upstairs!” Jamie stepped back, swiping a sleeve across his blackened face, and stared wildly at the upper windows. Nothing was to be seen but the roiling shimmer of the fire against the panes.[...]

I felt Jamie draw breath, gulping air as deep as he could with his seared lungs, and then he was up the steps as well, and had Ian round the waist, dragging him back. “Come down, man!” he shouted hoarsely. “Ye’ll no manage—the stair is gone!” He glanced round, saw me, and thrust Ian bodily backward, off-balance and staggering, into my arms. “Hold him,” he shouted, over the roar of the flames. “I’ll fetch down the lad!” With that, he turned and dashed up the steps of the adjoining building, pushing his way through the patrons of the ground-floor chocolate shop, who had emerged onto the pavement to gawk at the excitement, pewter cups still clutched in their hands.Following Jamie’s example, I locked my arms tight around Ian’s waist and didn’t let go. He made an abortive attempt to follow Jamie, but then stopped and stood rigid in my arms, his heart beating wildly just under my cheek. “Don’t worry,” I said, pointlessly. “He’ll do it; he’ll get him out. He will. I know he will.”[...]

It was no more than a minute before the window above the chocolate shop opened and Jamie’s head and shoulders appeared, red hair glowing like a stray tongue of flame escaped from the main fire. He climbed out onto the sill, and cautiously turned, squatting, until he faced the building. Rising to his stockinged feet, he grasped the gutter of the roof overhead and pulled, slowly raising himself by the strength of his arms, long toes scrabbling for a grip in the crevices between the mortared stones of the housefront. With a grunt audible even over the sound of fire and crowd, he eeled over the edge of the roof and disappeared behind the gable. A shorter man could not have managed. Neither could Ian, with his wooden leg. I heard Ian say something under his breath; a prayer I thought, but when I glanced at him, his jaw was clenched, face set in lines of fear.“What in hell is he going to do up there?” I thought, and was unaware that I had spoken aloud until the barber, shading his eyes next to me, replied. “There’s a trapdoor built in the roof o’ the printshop, ma’am. Nay doubt Mr. Malcolm means to gain access to the upper story so. Is it his ’prentice up there, d’ye know?” “No!” Ian snapped, hearing this. “It’s my son!” The barber shrank back before Ian’s glare, murmuring “Oh, aye, just so, sir, just so!” and crossing himself. A shout from the crowd grew into a roar as two figures appeared on the roof of the chocolate shop, and Ian dropped my hand, springing forward. Jamie had his arm round Young Ian, who was bent and reeling from the smoke he had swallowed. It was reasonably obvious that neither of them was going to be able to negotiate a return through the adjoining building in his present condition. Just then, Jamie spotted Ian below. Cupping his hand around his mouth, he bellowed “Rope!” Rope there was; the Town Guard had come equipped. Ian snatched the coil from an approaching Guardsman, leaving that worthy blinking in indignation, and turned to face the house. I caught the gleam of Jamie’s teeth as he grinned down at his brother-in-law, and the look of answering wryness on Ian’s face. How many times had they thrown a rope between them, to raise hay to the barn loft, or bind a load to the wagon for carrying?The crowd fell back from the whirl of Ian’s arm, and the heavy coil flew up in a smooth parabola, unwinding as it went, landing on Jamie’s outstretched arm with the precision of a bumblebee lighting on a flower. Jamie hauled in the dangling tail, and disappeared momentarily, to anchor the rope about the base of the building’s chimney. A few precarious moments’ work, and the two smoke-blackened figures had come to a safe landing on the pavement below. Young Ian, rope slung under his arms and round his chest, stood upright for a moment, then, as the tension of the rope slackened, his knees buckled and he slid into a gangling heap on the cobbles. “Are ye all right? A bhalaich, speak to me!” Ian fell to his knees beside his son, anxiously trying to unknot the rope round Young Ian’s chest, while simultaneously trying to lift up the lad’s lolling head. Jamie was leaning against the railing of the chocolate shop, black in the face and coughing his lungs out, but otherwise apparently unharmed. I sat down on the boy’s other side, and took his head on my lap.[...]

“Is he all right?” Ian’s hands instinctively grabbed his son beneath the armpits and sat him up. His head wobbled to and fro, and he pitched forward into my arms. “I think so; I can’t tell for sure.” The boy was still coughing, but not fully conscious; I held him against my shoulder like an enormous baby, patting his back futilely as he retched and gagged. “Is he all right?” This time it was Jamie, squatting breathless alongside me. His voice was so hoarse I wouldn’t have recognized it, roughened as it was by smoke.

“I think so. What about you? You look like Malcolm X,” I said, peering at him over Young Ian’s heaving shoulder. “I do?” He put a hand to his face, looking startled, then grinned reassuringly. “Nay, I canna say how I look, but I’m no an ex-Malcolm yet; only a wee bit singed round the edges.”

“Get back, get back!” The Guard captain was at my side, gray beard bristling with anxiety, plucking at my sleeve. “Move yourself, ma’am, the roof’s going!” Sure enough, as we scrambled to safety, the roof of the printshop fell in, and an awed sound rose from the watching crowd as an enormous fountain of sparks whirled skyward, brilliant against the darkening sky.

27 UP IN FLAMES ~voyager

[hyohaehyuk]

Vanity Fair and AMC’s Advanced Screening of Interview with the Vampire (some photos via BFA)

“New Orleans feels like a city where vampires could move around undetected,” says actor Jacob Anderson, who plays vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac, who we are introduced to as he tells his life story, in the modern day, to journalist Daniel Malloy (the legendary Eric Bogosian). “It has an otherworldly quality… it's exactly where you'd want to lay down roots if you were a vampire. It's also super gothic, architecturally and spiritually, and that's so baked into not only vampire lore, but Anne Rice's vampires specifically.”

Having such a sumptuous setting for the drama serves the series well. As Reid notes, New Orleans herself is a main character of the show. “The city and Anne Rice’s Vampires are inseparable. Vampires are enduring immortal creatures, likewise, New Orleans is an enduring city that continues to thrive despite countless tragedies,” he says. “It also happens to be the perfect setting for vampires to thrive, with its nightlife and constant carousel of tourists whose disappearances go unnoticed by the locals.”

Before indulging in Signature Cocktails and partaking in Truffle Beignets and Mini Creme Brulee French Macarons at the party, over 100 VIP guests were treated to an advance screening of the bold debut episode and a Q&A with the forces behind the show. Anderson and Reid, as well as their co-star Bailey Bass (who plays Claudia, an orphan child brought into the Blood in 1794 by Lestat and Louis) and Executive Producers Mark Johnson and Alan Taylor, spoke to the reimagining of Rice’s books and the way the new series handles homoeroticism. “We talk a lot about subtext to text, but really, if you read Anne Rice, it’s text,” pointed out Reid. “It wouldn’t really be The Vampire Chronicles without actually honoring that. I think the best adaptation that we can do is by honoring particularly Louis and Lestat’s love story, because as we progress through those books, that’s an enduring, everlasting, immortal, painful relationship that fuels a lot of those characters’ decisions.”

During the screening, gasps from the faint-hearted could be heard during some of the show’s more, shall we say, biting moments, while the episode’s risque boudoir scenes caused more than a jaw or two to drop. But the series is not mere violence and virility. Underlying the drama is the core question: Can you live with yourself forever? The vampire characters find themselves at different stages–from denial, to anger, to rebellion—grappling with the existential nature of their dark gift. As Anderson puts it “(Rice’s) vampires are always questioning what their true nature is. They are monsters with the residue of a human experience… that push and pull between compassion and cruelty at the heart of the show.”

[veliseraptor]

Top five beverages?

I feel like I may have answered this one before somewhere in the mists of time, but that doesn't mean I can't do it again.

1. Hot chocolate. I tend toward liking a more milky hot chocolate than a richer one closer to drinking chocolate, which I feel like is unpopular, but my main strong hot chocolate opinion is that hot chocolate made with water is invalid. Very much looking forward to winter so I can have an excuse to make hot chocolate again.

2. Hot apple cider. It's got to be the really spicy stuff, though; if it's too sweet I can't accept it. Even when I get stuff from the store that's pretty good I usually still steep it with extra spices anyway.

3. Creme de la Earl Grey tea from Portal Tea. Very specific but very important to me. I drink at least two cups of this pretty much daily. It's delicious.

4. These have all been hot beverages (which is because I really like hot beverages) but to shake it up a little - I've gotten really into Fever Tree's Sicilian Lemonade mixer/soda. It's nice and tart and I just drink it straight (as opposed to using it for a mixer, which I think is possibly the original intent). It also comes in nice small bottles, which is convenient, if only in sets of four, which is less convenient and not terribly cost effective.

5. To put one alcoholic one on here, I'm going to cheat and say herbal cocktails with gin. It's a wide range, though I'm particularly fond of ones with lavender or rosemary. But there's a very easy elderflower gin and tonic that I really like. I should make myself one of those. Or possibly not, considering the current state of the mood.

[hpowellsmith]

End of 2023 roundup

Thank you so much for all the messages, asks, reblogs, and comments I've had over the year. This year was my first year of mostly working with Choice of Games (I had some other contract work but CoG was the main work thing going on). I was very nervous going into it, but it's been more successful than I could have possibly hoped even in an awful year for the field of games at large. And I've written... so much. What I did on Honor Bound, the tail-end of the Royal Affairs beta back in January, and the Royal Affairs epilogue alone was over 330,000 words, and I can't easily count up what I did on Elite Status. It's been a huge year!

Every reblog, every recommendation, and every review spreads the word about my work and means I can keep doing this for longer, and I appreciate it so, so much.

Creme de la Creme and Blood Money now both have hints and cheats to help you find the obscure paths you really want;

Creme de la Creme, Blood Money, and Noblesse Oblige now all have save and restore points (so do Elite Status and Royal Affairs, but they had it from launch);

Elite Status: Platinum Concierge, for which I wrote and edited additional content, came out after being dormant for many years;

King of the Castle, the brilliant medieval monarch multiplayer game I worked on last year, came out and got 4 stars in NME;

I started and wrote seven chapters of Honor Bound which has been a total treasure to work on, and I've been learning huge amounts from it and falling in love with the setting and characters;

and of course Royal Affairs, having been in progress for three years, came out into the world. I'm absolutely overwhelmed by all the love: it was such a long journey, through such tumultuous times personally and historically, but making Royal Affairs was a joy and I was so overjoyed to be able to finally share it. I've really enjoyed revisiting the characters for the expanded epilogue that's coming soon in 2024, and I hope you do too!

Best of wishes for the new year, everyone!

[vilevexedvixen]

Inscryption cocktails

Each Scrybe would have a menu reflecting their three minions (increasing in size - a shot, a squat drink, then a tall drink) and then the main cocktail based off of the menu's titular Scrybe.

Each scrybe also has a dish relating to them and how they play their cards.

Thank you @dariusblake for your suggestions on different flavour profiles and placemat details.

Leshy's menu:

"The prospector"

A caramel whisky shot rimmed with golden nugget cereal crumbs. Modelled after the gold nuggets the prospector can transform cards into.

"The Angler"

A salted liquorish cocktail using anise flavouried liquior and fish-shaped gummy salted liquorish hanging over the rim of a bucket shaped recepticle. Modelled after the Angler's bait bucket card.

"The Trapper/Trader"

A rich, blood-red velvet cocktail made with red grenadine and a chocolate liquior. Served in a stein with a fake bit of pelt padding embellishing the handle. More modelled after his trading role than how he plays cards.

"The Scrybe of Beasts"

A botanical gin-based cocktail comprised of rhubarb gin, elderflower tonic and red grenadine seeping in from the top like a drop of blood, garnished with a sprig of elderflower. Served in a tall tiki mask glass (ideally etched to look like his masks, but a normal tiki glass would work) Playing into his tree-like appearance, emphasis on blood sacrifice (thematically and mechanically), and because he's an old man (hence use of elderflower specifically).

"Eight Fucking Bears"

Technically more of a food challenge than a regular dish of eight very spicy pork ribs with a thick, blood-like sauce.

Grimora's menu:

"Royal Dominguez"

A limoncello and triple sec shot rimmed with crushed sherbert. Based on his death from scurvy at sea.

"Sawyer Patel"

A stout Sheep Dog peanut butter whisky and ginger ale drink served in a tumbler lined with a dash of peanut butter drizzle.

"Kaycee Hobbes"

A refreshing blueberry vodka and fireball slushy served in a tall glass and garnished with blueberries and cinammon caramel drizzle.

"The Scrybe of The Dead"

A black forest espresso martini made with Kaluha, cherry vodka, chocolate liquior and a shot of espresso. Served in a china teacup with a pitted black cherry skewered on the teacup's rim.

"The Lord of Bones"

Fried chicken drumsticks and wings served in a coffin-shaped basket.

Magnificus' menu:

"Goobert"

Lime jelly(jello) shot. The shot glass would have little googly eyes stuck to it and an edible paper wizard hat instead of an umbrella.

"The Pike Mage"

A sweet and spicy chipotle-orange syrup, bourbon and vanilla liquior cocktail served in a martini glass and garnished with a skewered glacie cherry donning an edible paper wizard hat.

"The Lonely Wizard"

Black Sangria (made with dark wine - blackberries, black grapes and black plums) imbued with green edible glitter. Served in a wine glass and garnished with a lime slice donning an edible paper wizard hat.

"The Scrybe of Magicks"

A colourful tie-dye milkshake of creme de menthe, mint ice cream and strawberry cream liquieur embellished with edible glitter. Served in a tall flute and garnished with a swirl of whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles and a spherical marshmallow made to look like Magnificus' missing arcane eye in place of a cherry.

"Mox"

A dessert made of blue raspberry, orange and apple sorbet scoops. Sprinkled with crushed sherbert and gemstone-shaped hard candies.

Po3's menu:

"The Inspector"

A simple blue raspberry sour shot with a blue raspberry popping candy rim.

"The Melter"

A vibrantly fire-coloured chocolate orange spritz. Mixing chocolate liquieur with aperol and prosecco. Garnished with curled orange rind and dark chocolate shavings.

"The Dredger"

A boba blue gin fizz. Made of bombay sapphire gin, lemon juice blue curaçao and soda water with lemon boba. Served with a silver coloured straw.

"The Scrybe of Technology"

A bright blue bubblegum cocktail topped with sweet sparkling wine and lemonade. Served in a tall, angular glass. The most boring of the Scrybe cocktails tbh.

"Kilo-bites"

Byte-sized sharing platter of savoury pastries and square pizza slices made to look like floppy discs.

I'll be honest, I was drawing a blank for Po3's menu. Dude's Vox if Vox had self-control, which takes away a lot of vibrancy to bounce off of for flavour profiles and visual ideas.

Bonus Mycologist dish:

Roasted ox-tongue mushroom, stuffed with mushroom paté and blue cheese with a creamy but sharp cheese sauce.

Ngl, Leshy's is my favourite menu. Definitely tempted to make it, maybe for an Inscryption themed party?

[kitty-pilled-gamma]

Wonderful is coming to an end (and I'm not prepared for it... but I'm also super excited to see You and Idol) so I'm doing this post saying what I thought of each member of the main cast so let's go

Komugi / Wonderful

the silly little gal what more can I say about her? she is so insanely cute it's impossible for me to not like her. some people have said she doesn't feel like a proper leader but I don't really care about, her personality is very bright and captivating already so I like her

Iroha / Friendy

not gonna lie she is the one that left the weakest impression out of the team she just didn't catched my attention that much but thankfully she did grow on me eventually. I like how even when learning what the humans did to the wolves, and saw someone's beloved pet die, she still wants to accomplish her goal of befriend the animals and won't give up on that. also her relationship with Satoru is super sweet it's the first time we see a Precure couple actually becoming canon with the characters themselves saying they are boyfriend and girlfriend and I'm very happy for them

Yuki / Nyammy

the queen the diva the best of the best the creme de la creme. my absolute favorite if you couldn't tell I love her development her story the way she is sassy but still cares about her friends and people around her? all amazing. actually I really like how Wonderful works with it's characters, everyone of them. loved how she went from being so selfish and only caring about Mayu to eventually start opening up to the world. just 10/10 character

Mayu / Lillian

the character who probably got the best development (along Yuki) I love her so much and I didn't even thought I would do so asuahsus. her story was so relatable to me who has poor social skills due to autism and seeing her getting more friends and less afraid to be herself was really nice. also her being the biggest SatoIro shipper and wingman ever is so funny

Satoru

even tho he is a secondary character he is so enjoyable to watch I love his nerdy personality and love for animals and also he serves some great comedy scenes. Iroha sure is a lucky girl for having he as a partner (god they are so cute together). even if he doesn't have any magical powers (expect for the movie) he is still a great ally for the Cures

Daifuku

THE KING THE GOAT ALL HAIL DAIFUKU RIGHT NOW DAIFUKU IS LIFE DAIFUKU IS LOVEEEEEEE!!!1111111

so that was it let me know if you agree or disagree with my positions (^_-)-☆ (ps - the only one you are prohibited of disagreeing with is Daifuku. no one can dislike him.)

[anitalianfrie]

some cyborg au i randomly wrote (tw: body horror) // 1,3k

After the crash, they have to cut the suit off his arm to access the fracture. Expert hands slice with scissors, quickly and careless, through the leathers while he's laying on a stretcher in the back of the ambulance. He refused to lay on it, in the beginning, but the paramedics insisted. Under his schorched suit, his arm is bloody and mangled, the humerus poking the skin, creating an ugly bulge, red and purple from blood. Exposed wires, broken and fused from the heat, come out from his busted forearm. His fingers are red, crushed, metal poking through the tendons of his wrist and his palm. Sparks are igniting at the level of his shoulder. The woman in front of him is barely quick enough to extinguish them.

In the hospital they tell him that, beside the immediate impact that completely busted the majority of his enhancements on his right side - the hand traction, the strengthner, even the support - the bone shattered through the wires and the metal sheets of his upper arm, causing an internal short circuit. The wires cought fire. His nervous system is for the majority, if not completely, damaged, and it will take time for it to recover, if to recover at all.

They present him with various options. He chooses the one that will allow him to race as soon as possible. It's a new technology, they tell him. Minimal hardware, almost all neurological. The creme de la creme of innovation. They are going to screw his bone back together with a metal plate and fuse some wires at it, made of a new metal, then inserting them in his nervous system. Impulses and wires are going to run through his arm, to activate the movements, and some reinforced plates are going to be placed on his upper arm and his forearm to assure stability. They are going to rewire his entire bike-control system, since it got destroyed in the crash, and substitute the older parts with new ones, more efficients.

It's still an experimental surgery, they say, but every other option includes too much hardware. Hardware that his body will need to get used to, before he will be able to control it perfectly, with the surgical precision he needs to ride. Before he'll able to be one with his bike again.

He accepts.

In Jerez, after free practice, he realizes he can't race. Something is wrong. The arm doesn't respond to his commands, keeps getting stuck. But that's not the problem. It wouldn't be the first time he raced with a malfuncioning arm.

The problem it's all the rest. Something must have broken somewhere else, because his whole body is twitchy. The fingers of his left hand keep glitching, like if there was a bug. The lights on his ribs keep flicking, advising him that something is wrong in his balance system. At one point, blood comes out of his right eye, the one he had to modify back in 2011.

It's too much. He retires from the race.

And then, one day, while he opens a window, his arms catches fire.

It's an interesting feeling, to have one's arm buring. To feel the flesh melting on your own bones. To smell your own fat burning.

He's rushed to the hospital by Alex while he screams in agony. His right hand is still twichy, his ribs keep flashing, blood keep coming out of his right eye. His arm is on fire.

The have to open him up, rewiring him completely once again. Apparently, something went wrong the first time: they don't know what, or why. The main hypothesis is that they got some detail of the wiring wrong, and since almost all his enhancement are neural-linked, it influenced them all. It would have probably had minimal effect on somebody with more mechanicals on. Somebody more old gen. Somebody like Valentino.

Then, while he opened the window, the bone shattered again, broke trough the wires and metal sheets again, and caused another short circuit. Only, this time it wasn't just a few sparks.

it doesn't get better. All the bugs his system was experiencing keep being there, and only get worse with time. They tell him it might be an imbalance of tecnology, his too new right arm interfering with the older softwares. They tell him it might be the materials used for the new wires. The truth is: they don't know.

In 2022, he realizes he can't race anymore like this. The sparks that keep igniting on his shoulder, the continous twitches, the blood that doesn't let him see. His jaw that keeps getting stuck.

He goes to a doctor, a new one, specialized in this kind of things. Sitting there, one on one with him in his study, white walls and rows and rows of books, he gets told that his right arm is no longer usable. That the tecnology that was implemented, almost all software and almost no hardware, wasn't feesable: it failed too much trials. It was dangerous. It fried the bones and the nerves. The small chances his arm had to recover its functionality are gone.

And not only: the material used for the hardware has an high percentage of rejection. At first, it gets immediately integrated in the body, allowing little to no refractory period, but soon after the majority of people start to have a reaction to it. They show him pictures of the inside of his arm. The bone is corroded, rotting along with the nerves and the muscles and the flash. His body, in an useless attempt of getting out what it percieves it shouldn't be there, has been trying to kill itself.

Of course, the doctors weren't aware of this downside, when they put it in him. It was a new tecnology, after all.

The doctor tells him, with a serious voice, both hands on the desk behind which he's seated, that the only option is amputation.

Marc looks down at his mangled arm, the muscles weak, reinforced with metal and wires to allow him to use it still, control lights blinking up and down for its whole lenght. The piece of metal they weren't able to get out, risking to compromise too much funcionality, that still goes through his wrist. His fingers, kept straight only by metal rods and small plates. It's been a couple of months since he's been able to move them fully. The wires getting out of his open forearm, where the bike control is supposed to be. They took it out when he stopped racing. It was too much of a risk to keep it there.

His arm. What's left of it. Rotten and dying.

He agrees to the surgery.

There's not much he can do about it anyway.

Three days later, fresh out of surgery, he looks at his new arm. It's not a marvel of tecnology: he insisted on having an older model, a mainly mechanical one, that couldn't interfere with his other systems. Even when they told him it wouldn't happen, that they would update all his softwares, he refused to change his mind. A new neurological path gets estabished, one apt to replace his nervous system. It has the same updates as the rest of him, the oldest ones he could get without risking major bugs.

The metal shines under the sterile lights, against the white sheets. he moves his fingers, and for the first time in God knows how long, they do exactly what he wants them to. They will need constant manteinance. System updates, eventual rewiring, oil in between the joints. That's the main problem of menichals: they need work. Old racers used to do it constatly, back then, up until the 2000s. But nobody ever had a whole limb replaced.

Marc looks at this new part of him, delicately sawn to his shoulder, wires white and red and blue inserted into his skin, connecting it to the rest of him, making him funcional again.

Marc looks at his new arm, and cries.

[undeadvinyls]

Eyeing you with my one singular eye

Cookie’s body? Hello? Looking? Staring? Observing?

IM SO SORRY IT TOO SO LONG TO ANSWER at first i wanted to answer with a drawing/couple of sketches but then i procrastinated which made me feel bad, because i RLLY wanted to share this lore.

okay so, let's just start with saying this off chest,

calamari cookie is the secret, land identity of Kraken Cookie, a legendary kraken-like sea creature which has roamed the seas around the Creme Republic.

I've been working on a story for it for a while now, so i'll share a quick timeline. Calamari/Kraken uses she/he/they pronouns in both identities.

The story happens somewhere after the events of A Mermaid's Tale, but in a different part of the sea. With the ongoing hunt for sea creature cookies, great kraken cookie was one of the main targets for hunting season, being called a "threat" to all the cookies of the republic, but because of Abalone's demise events prior, another crew of cookies was assigned with hunting her. These cookies were the family of Macadamia Cookie, the Macadamia Clan. It wasn't a powerful house like House Oyster, hell it was a simple Cookie Clan. But the republic knew these cookies were the creme de la creme of sailors, hardened by their bond and experiences.

The at the time head of the clan, which was macadamia's maternal ancestor, was assigned with hunting kraken cookie for good.

instead, what she saw was not a monster, not a dangerous sea creature, but a hurt cookie drowned in grief from all the pain that cookies like abalone has caused them and their friends. forming a friendship between the two, macadamia's ancestor came with an offer, that they will protect great kraken at any cost and will hide the truth, but he will have to dissappear from the public eye. and so, using magic, kraken cookie has taken the land identity of calamari cookie, as macadamia's family sworn protection of her.

it is now a family secret that the family clan has hidden the truth, saving the sea cookie instead of slaying it, like they were commissioned with. everyone believes that "the kraken is dead", yet no one knows the truth. that is the reason why macadamia cookie is calamari's cookie first mate and most trusted crew member, just as his ancestors were her most trusted cookies too.

after all these years, calamari is still grateful for the help, and thank to them, she learned that not all land cookies are evil, but was still hurt by the ones who were rotten inside, that is why, calamari never takes evil cookies lightly, especially those who dare threaten her found family - the kraken fortune crew.

EDIT 22/05/2024: forgot about one small thing, so i'm copying this off a reblog of this post, so people who generally read original posts instead of reblogs, could also see it.

original text:

"i unfortunely forgot abt this nuance but calamari cookie has not entirely given up on her original identity!! she still, often even, transforms into kraken cookie to see how are underwater cookies doing. she sometimes spends a few days in her old form too, you could say that overtime, he found a balance between his life of piracy and his life of a sea cookie. they just do not emerge out of water too much, in fear of the truth coming out to light. she doesn't want her "return" to be marked as a point for "a new era of monster hunting".

the crew also knows abt this secret, and they've promised to never tell anyone. but sometimes you can see kraken cookie hugging the crew members near a deserted island and they love their sea monster captain so much. recently she also met sorbet shark and they are his baby"

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

SH -IG

Hugo Ensslin was the head bartender at the Hotel Wallick in New York City when he created the Aviation Cocktail. The recipe appears for the first time in his 1916 book, “Recipes for Mixed Drinks.”

You can use any London dry gin in the classic aviation cocktail, because the main liqueur in an Aviation cocktail, the key ingredient is creme de violette, (not gin) which is a violet flavoured liqueur that makes the cocktail unique.

This liqueur was one nearly extinct and, as such, many recipes for an Aviation describe this liqueur as being ``optional'' or calling for only the tiniest hint of it. Let me tell you that creme de violette is essential to this drink, giving it a soft floral sweetness and, of course, its unique blue hue.

Aviation Cocktail

1 1/2 oz London dry gin

1/2 oz maraschino liqueur

1/4 oz creme de violette (violet liqueur)

3/4 oz lemon juice

Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker, fill with ice and shake until cold, about 10 seconds. Strain into a chilled martini glass and garnish with a maraschino cherry (preferably a Luxardo cherry)🍒🍸

With its gorgeous purple color, the Aviation Cocktail is perfect for Halloween and a first 💜 birthday celebration for someone named Violet!

Posted 1st November 2024

[f4unlette]

𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𓍯𓂃

꒰ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜: i go by nana and use they/them pronouns. i’m bisexual but am more inclined towards homosexuality. in terms of gender identity, i identify as genderqueer.

aquarius sun, capricorn moon and leo rising.

i’m an intp-t, atheist, feminist (trans inclusive) and leftist.

i have a cherub tattoo on my forearm :)

꒰ my pinterest ꒱

although i often post moodboards, this is mainly a wl account! if you are currently recovering from an e4ting d1sorder, i’d advise you to not interact with my account, as i post content that might be triggering to people who are sensitive to the topic. if unconfortable or triggered, please, block this account instead of reporting.

not open to meanspo/f4tshaming. this is my diary, i’m not trying to encourage 4n4.

ever since i was around 9 years old, i've been struggling with body weight and image. i've always been a bit of an outcast for being overweight most of my life, being subjected to endless comparisons and being picked on. i have also been stuck in constant cycles of st4rv4tion and binge eating for as long as i can remember. i began my actual weight loss journey around summer 2023 and it has since become an addiction.

꒰ weight stats ꒱

꒰ 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑖 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: super sonico figurines, vanilla, peach, cinnamon or strawberry scented candles, big dogs, stuffed animals (need a djungelskog bear, a pompompurin plushie and a pusheen cinnamon roll), hair accessories, pyjamas, antiques, queer media (especially girl’s love manga/anime), pink hair, hydrangeas, sparkly nails, car rides, hand holding, pastel colors (my faves are #c3d4e7 and most shades of light pink), late autumn and winter, dove products, fragrances/perfume, lip balm, sol de janeiro ‘71.

i’m a long time fan of sanrio and my favorite character is pompompurin ૮ - ﻌ - ა⁩ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

꒰ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠: gaming, music, psychology, sociology and history (art, political, fashion, morbid), photography, crafting (clay), baking, writing, organizing things, beauty/self care and fashion (rococo and victorian, vintage, othic, lolita, jojifuku, coquette/dollette, mori kei, winter clothing), shopping (mostly looking at whatever’s on sale and debating whether i should buy it or not. rarely ever give in).

my absolute favorite youtube channel is kubz scouts (been a fan of jay for years :D). i mostly watch commentary videos on internet phenomenons, crime documentaries, gameplays, mukbangs and cooking videos.

꒰ 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠: my homemade tomato and tuna cream pasta, protein and cereal bars, anything strawberry or pistachio flavored, tangerines, hot chocolate, s’mores, mochi, fruit, warm milk with honey, pain au chocolat, donuts, homemade chocolate chip cookies, chocolate (especially hershey’s cookies n creme flat white and lindt dark chocolate with salted caramel), milka milk choco wafer, werther’s originals caramel, kfc’s strawberry milkshake and o’cheddar burger, cinnamon rolls, chai latte with salted caramel syrup, mc donald’s cheeseburger natura and nuggets.

i’m also a fan of portuguese, italian and chinese cuisine.

꒰ 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐: mostly radiohead, lana del rey, deftones, dazey and the scouts, she wants revenge, megan thee stallion, nicole dollanganger, hole, fiona apple, jack off jill, the cure, jeff buckley, lalleshwari, kali uchis, mars argo, dsbm, gothic, nu and heavy metal, 50s and 60s, 90s indie, goth/new wave, classical, japanese rock, pop and v-kei.

꒰ 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠: mouthwashing, schoolgirl supervisor, genshin impact (tartaglia + arlecchino main, ar59), class of ‘09, ddlc, fnaf sl, dead plate and cold front, re7 and village, outlast, chilla’s art and puppet combo games. anything indie horror, survival, choice.

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠: girl interrupted, brokeback mountain, but i’m a cheerleader, donnie darko, the basketball diaries, stay (2005), nightcrawler. basically any movie where jake gyllenhaal takes on a leading role ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

꒰ 𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑎: banana fish, bloom into you, mob psycho 100, devilman crybaby, moriarty the patriot, bungou stray dogs, tokyo revengers, junji ito manga, classmates/doukyusei, brutal satsujin, boy meets maria, the summer hikaru died.

꒰ 𝑑𝑛𝑖: p3dophiles and zooph1les, conservative/right wing propaganda, which includes white supremacy propaganda, homophobia, transphobia, racism, misogyny or any form of hatred. f4tspo and bullying aren’t allowed either, putting down others won’t make you any less insecure.

𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

[legon751]

working on a recipe. i need to dial back a few things, maybe drop a couple entirely or swap them for less intense versions

a bit less absinthe, swap the ground spices for angostura or just reduce them (or grind them fresh so theyre less fine and easier to strain the grit off). that might be enough to let me dial back the earl grey gin a touch. i think the vanilla wasnt necessary the creme de cacao is vanilla-y enough

rn the main flavors are earl grey, chocolate orange, and christmas spice

i need a name for it too

overall pretty good tho just needs refinement. working name is christmas on the enterprise

[exhausted-archivist]

Archi's Worldstate and OCs Masterlist

These are the personal worldstates I've built (or play with), going to link back to them when I do choice break-downs and such. Mostly wanted to get them in one place as well as my ocs I designed as companions or npcs.

First Playthrough

HoF: Thranduil Mahariel Champion: Marian Hawke Inquisitor: Everlinna Lavellan

Keep World State

HoF: Lyna Mahariel Champion: Garret Hawke Inquisitor: Evalyn Trevelyan

Main Canon

HoF: Brynne Varahel Tabris Champion: Elizabeth Hawke Inquisitor: Isala Revassan Lavellan

Tragic Lovers

HoF: Aenor Mahariel Champion: Verena Hawke Inquisitor: Pemma Lavellan

Salt and Burn

HoF: Katiana Cousland Champion: Garret Hawke Inquisitor: Trevelyan

Ambitchious

HoF: Atisha Surana Champion: Alessandra Hawke Inquisitor: Evelyn Trevelyan

Andrastian

HoF: Lancey Cousland Champion: Garret Hawke Inquisitor: Camillus Trevelyan

Recovery

HoF: Esha Amell Champion: Marian Hawke Inquisitor: Ramisa Trevelyan

Other OCs

Anea (Frostbacks Dalish)

Alsen De Fiedricis (Orlesian)

Anjou Baskar (Surface Dwarf)

Ashara Valmorte (Orlesian Elf)

Atisumis Anastasio (Nevarran)

Beatrice Butters (Nevarran Elf)

Caius Gaius (Anders)

Creme (Orlesian Elf)

Eshtarylin (Tevinter)

Inan Shalelan Lavellan (Fereldan Dalish)

Lichen Baskar (Surface Dwarf)

Marel (Frostback Dalish)

Milena "Greenie" Gundaar (Surface Dwarf)

Mooralya (Anders Elf)

Petunia Sataa (Markham Vashoth)

Rogelan Shalelan (Fereldan Dalish)

Tasi (Fereldan City Elf)

[hpowellsmith]

this is a Blaise appreciation post. not a day goes by when i do not think of this cranky easily flustered nasty man who secretly just wants to be held and respected. about to replay creme de la creme for like the fourth time so i can rescue him from the mines again. are any of the love interests in your WIPs going to have enemies to lovers vibes? i love it when someone starts out terrible but turns out to be a sweetheart once they learn they can trust the main character! he/she/they is genuinely the best

O Blaise. Blaise! It's been a while since someone messaged me about Creme characters so this was lovely to see! I love to see Blaise appreciated. What a grouch they are. Did you play 73 Stretfield Park, my free Blaise point-of-view prologue?

Royal Affairs has Javi, a catty royal grouch, and Trevelyan, a passionate anti-monarchy firebrand, so they may catch your interest! Honor Bound has Denario: he's a guy who's a former friend/frenemy, now in a rough spot, no one wants him around (that's a lie, a couple of people want him around) and maybe you can kindle or rekindle something if you want...? But that's maybe not the smartest of ideas...?