#Rosewood copper

[groundonesix]

Tom Dixon Manner Side Rope Chair

An amazing and rare chair designed after the famous 'S' chair of Tom Dixon. The chair is weaved with rope or rushed around a metal frame. It holds a beautiful hourglass shape that's playful and resembles a seating feminine body making it highly unusual and unique to any interior.

8 x Chairs available.

Please let us know how many you would like.

Shipping from London

Condition report:

Overall good condition

All chairs have very strong frame. Some of the rope condition is worn or loose. on some chairs is almost perfect and on some it has some discolouration. The four first pictures of the 3/4 chairs are four different chairs. The rest of the pictures are a mix of eight chairs showcasing the condition which as mentioned some is very good and some is average.

CREATOR: After Tom Dixon

PLACE OF ORIGIN: UK

DATE OF MANUFACTURE: 1980s

PERIOD: 1980 - 1989

MATERIALS & TECHNIQUES: Powder coated metal, Rope

CONDITION: Good vintage condition

WEAR: All chairs have very strong frame. Some of the rope condition is worn or loose. on some chairs is almost perfect and on some it has some discolouration.

HEIGHT: 106cm 41.8in

WIDTH: 50cm 19.8in

DEPTH: 52cm 20.5in

SEAT HEIGHT: 45cm 17.8in

Request more information

Complete set of 6 chrome cantilever MR10 chairs by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, in brown leather. This set of chairs is an early 1960s example of his famous design produced by Knoll International. The MR10 chair was first designed in the 1920s, and this set of six features the chrome springs on the backs and seats. Later the design was improved, with a shortening of the springs and a reversion to an elastic corset cord. The chairs still bear the oval sticker marks on the back of the bottom of the seats.

MR10 chairs are really comfortable, and are a real design classic, as seen in many films and other media. Our MR10 chairs recently have been used to decorate the interior of a restaurant in London, which was featured in Architectural Digest, Dezeen, Elle Decoration, and many other publications (as shown in the images, which are property of Child Studio).

Two of the chairs have the complete set of springs; the remaining four, as you can see from the images, are missing some springs, and the leather punctured holes are ripped off. All of the cantilever frames are in great condition, with the expected 80 years of wear. We sell the chairs in their original vintage condition as seen, and that is reflected in the price of the set. If you wish to restore them with new leather, in any colour, please let us know and we can assist you.

Please note these chairs are available with four options: the complete set of 6, and then three pairs of two.

[capricioussun]

papy request! choose for every diff pap a different fanfic trope <3

Oh boy fanfic tropes uhhh okay okay I will do my best! I’m not super well versed in fic and tropes so bear w/ me here lol

.

Rus (undertale) - devoted knight. Not to one person, rather a cause. His friends and loved ones, protecting them, taking care of them, by whatever means he has.

Edge (underfell) - collapse. He works himself so hard, it was bound to happen eventually. He’s not going to learn his lesson.

Stretch (underswap) - overheard at the worst possible time. Whether it was his secret spilled or he found something out he wasn’t meant to, I feel like Stretch is very good at finding himself in the wrong place at the wrong time without fail.

Copper (swapfell metal) - (platonic) slow burn. He’s a stubborn asshole but with enough goofing off and late night talks, he might open up a little, and be better off for it.

Ghost (fellswap glass) - framed. Uh oh! Looks like you’ve been framed for a crime you didn’t commit, and now it’s up to you and you alone to find a way out of this. Good luck!

The rest under the cut!

Uno (glitchedswap) - disappearance. It’s been many years since the sudden unexpected disappearance of Papyrus Gaster, but the hole his absence left still seems to be growing.

Heartfell Papyrus - soulmate birthmarks with a twist. That twist being that…he doesn’t seem to have a mark. Oh dear.

Lace (lovefell) - heartbreak in the rain. Self explanatory.

Rosewood (mafialovefell) - curse. He’s had a curse put on him, and only true loves kiss can break it...

Boss (mafiafell) - isekai. I would love to put his ass in a situation. /j but seriously. “Medical malpractice”. He is subject to experiments beyond his control. It does not end well.

Luck (mafiaswap) - lost the bet. Like rags to riches but in reverse. Will he be able to climb back to the position he once had?

Hawk (mafiatale) - poison. Uh oh! You’ve been poisoned. Is this gunna end at the hospital or the morgue?

Dove (horrortale) - second chances. He deserves a new lease on life, after everything…right?

Rust (horrorswap) - memory loss. He loses his memory in a terrible accident…but maybe that’s for the best.

Dusk (horrorfell) - life candles. And his has almost run out…

Ice (invertedfell) - (platonic) forced confessions. Trapped with a friend in dire circumstances and after a point, all they have left to pass the time is talking.

Clover (sweetswap) - flower shop. He’s always loved how colorful flowers are, even if he’s been partially colorblind since his accident.

Pictoris (outertale) - arranged marriage. But maybe it won’t be so bad after all..?

Aurigae - (platonic) slow dance. He gets pulled into dancing by a friend. He was having a terrible day, but…that helped. Maybe more than he’s even willing to admit.

Antares (outerfell) - space pirate. Is this a trope? I honestly don’t know but I love the concept and am standing by this.

Elester (demonfell) - absurd meet cute. He’s a demon, he needs to be placed in the story by extreme means, right?

Dos (glitchfell) - ghosts of the past. Something from his past is haunting him, and he can’t outrun it forever.

Void (vesselfell) - [redacted] coffee shop. He likes coffee :*)

[nikosaki]

“I want to use specific names for colours/shades but I don’t know many!” Hahaha sakira has got you! If you want to add colour to the objects or stuff in your writing you shouldn’t just write it like this

“Her dress was red” “His eyes were purple”

That makes your writing bland, it dumbs down the readers imagination during reading. Instead describe the colour like this

“Her dress was like a cup of Rooibos tea under a sunlit day”

“His eyes could be compared to that of a raven’s deep violet eyes”

(tip: amethyst is an overused word, there’s a list of other purple words below you should check out)

You can describe colours using objects because it will give shape to the sentence but don’t always go too detailed. If you make one sentence with a lot of adjectives and everything then don’t over use it in the other sentence that’s is.

But remember to use a simile like “as” or “like” if you do use objects.

I already wrote “Her dress was like a cup of Rooibos tea under a sunlit day” so next time when I mention the dress’s colour again I am going to write something like this

“Her garnet dress flowed in the wind”

Why? Because simple sentenced always enchance the writing and gives reader a feeling.

now that we are done with how to write colours let’s see some synonyms!!

white- bleached , colourless , pearly , milky , snowy, ivory , salt , Lacey , linen , frosty, daisy parchment , porcelain, cotton , rice bone

black- ebony, midnight, jade , spider , coal , pitch black, void , empty, sooty , obsidian , metal, onyx , ink , crow

grey- shadow, ash , graphite , foggy, dove , silver , dull, cloud ,slate, iron, smoke, pebble

red- garnet, blush , Merlot , cherry , crimson, rose, sangria, bloody, berry , currant, terracotta, jam , merlot

orange- tangerine , ginger , apricot, autumn , spice , amber, rust, marmalade, pumpkin , carrot , clay, golden , copper , ochre

yellow- gold, canary , light , butterscotches, dandelion, honey , blonde, corn, saffron , ocher, buttermilk

green- beryl , viridescent , olive , emerald , pickle, leafy , sage , lime , pear , mint, mignonette, glaucous

blue- ocean , aqua , cobalt, navy , sapphire, admiral, denim , cerulean, indigo , lapis , peacock, aegean, azure , turquoise, cyan , arctic

purple - amethyst , raven , violet ,lilac , lavender, plum , magenta ,orchid , mulberry, heather, raisin, amaranthine , eggplant , iris , periwinkle

pink- blush , cherry blossom , taffy , peach, flamingo , rosey , salmon , fuscia, rosewood , pale red

IMPORTANT : remember to do GOOD research on shades!! You need to know which one you can use as an adjective and which one is a noun. If it’s a noun turn it into adjective, if it cannot be turned into an adjective then use a simile.

There’s more and if you know put it in the reblogs

[queersrus]

request for cottagecore + sad-ish? id pack? please + thanks!

here's my attempt!

assuming id pack includes more than just the usual npts i'll throw in a few cottagecore and sad related labels i found

(nick)names:

ambrose, amos, ansel, acacia, ada, adelaide, arwin/arwen, ava, avery/averie, aviva, amaranth, able, arbor, art, arty/artie, asher, ainsley, acheron, adalia brandy/brandi, branwen, billie/billy, bryony, bill, banner, booker, bram

barley, brion, brian, bryce chloris, chandra, cyrene, cayenne, cade, clyde, chester, cliff denna, diana/dianna, diona, donna/dona, derby, dallas, danica, daphne, dixie, dawn, dylan

edmund, elenore, elodie, eudora, elenore/eleanor, ebony, erica, eila, eira, eve, eithne, everlee, elize, eliza, elizabeth, everlyn, elwood, emerson, elowen finnegan, freddy/freddie, frederick, fallin/fallon, florance/florence

fable, frank, frankie/franky, franklin/franklyn, faine, filbert, finneas ginny/ginnie, gale, georgia, george, georgina, granger halcyone, hana/hanna/hannah, harriet, harry, hayley/hailie/hailey, halie/hallie, heather, harlowe/harlow, harrow, hadar, hawl, hayes,

huck, holden, huso ilana, illiana/iliana, ingrid, ivory jane, janet/janette, jesse/jessie, josie, jose, jack, jackie, jackson kingston, kodi/kodie, kodiak, kylan

lupin, lian, liana/lianna, liane/lianne, linc, linden, lyle, lucius maisie, matilda, maude, mabel, merle, marin, mica/mika, mason/macon, martin, miller, miles nellie, nyssa, ned, nick, ness

opholia, oliver, olive, olivia, oleander, odell, oriel, oscar paisley, poppy, posie, phineas, parker rose, rosemary/rosemarie, rosy/rosie, rory, rosette, rosetta, rue, rosabel/rosabell/rosabelle, rosa, rosabela/rosabella, rosella, rosaria,

rosario, rob, robert, ray, reed, ridge, ryland, rowan, roan shiloh, sharon, scarlet/scarlett/skarlett, sam, samantha, samuel, sunny/sunnie, sawyer, shaw, shay, steve, stevie, stevia, sorell/sorrell, seb, sebby/sebbie, sebastian, saddie/sadie, sade

theodore, theo, tori, toria, tamie/tammie, tawny, terra, timber, tim, timothy, tanner, teddy/teddie, trevis/travis, trevor, tyler, tristan/tristin, tristah/trista, trystia verginia, vicky/vickie, victor, victoria, viola, violet/violette,

violeta/violetta, valerian, vernon winnie, willa, winston, winifred, winslow, will, william, willow, wade, wagner, warren, watts, watson, wilhelmina yvonne, yves zephyr/zephyre, zara, zinnia, zion

surnames:

appleyard, ashton, ashwood baker, brookstone, butterfield catkin, cobbler, cooper, copper, copperwood, copperfield, crestfallen dogwood, direwood, direbrook, direfield, desperfield, downyard

doleman fenlon, falkner, forlorn greenwood, greenfield, golding, goldwood, goldfield, griefman, griefwood, gardner

hilbrook, holbrook, heath, horsewood, horsefield, hawksley, harrowing, hawkswood, hawthorne, hawkner, hawkfield, holloway, hallowood

larken, limewood, lockhart, lovejoy mourner, mournwright, mournman nettleship

plowman, penrose, penwright redbrook, rosedale, redwood, rosewood, redfield summerfield, sweetnam, seawright, sorrowfield, sorrowbrook, shamewood, shamewright

thacker, thatcher westfield, wainwright, write/wright, wagonwright, woodsman, wyrmwood/wormwood, winterwood, winterrose, wretchwood, wretchman

system names:

the cottagecore *system, the sorrowful system, the melancholic cottage system, the mourning flowerbed system, the gloomy garden system, the tearful system, the harvest system

1st p prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ci/cotte/cottagy/cottagine/cottageself hi/he/hy/harvestine/harvestself gi/garde/gardy/gardine/gardenself si/sade/sady/sadine/sadself si/sorre/sorry/sorrowine/sorrowself mi/me/mely/melancholine/melancholyself

2nd p prns: you/your/yours/yourself

co/cottager/cottagers/cottagerself ho/harvester/harvesters/harvesterself go/gardener/gardeners/gardenerself so/sader/sadders/sadderself so/sorrower/sorrowers/sorrowerself mo/melancholer/melancholers/melancholerself

3rd p prns: they/them/theirs/themself

co/cottage, cott/age, cot/cottage, cot/tage, cottage/cottages, cottage/core har/vest, ha/harvest, harv/est, harvest/harvests gar/den, gar/garden, garden/gardens, garden/core farm/core sa/sad, sad/sads, sa/ad, sad/sadden, so/sorrow, sor/row, sorr/ow, sorrow/sorrows, sorrow/sorrowful mel/melancholy, mel/ancholy, melan/choly, melancholy/melancholies, melancholy/melchancholic

titles:

the weeping gardener, the mourning farmer, the sad cottage dweller, the melancholic planter, the sorrowful woodsman

**one who lives a sad cottage life, one who mourns within ones cottage, one who weeps amongst ones gardens, one who copes with sadness through cottage life

book titles:

the sad little cottage, a melancholic villager, the weeping willows, the mourning garden, the sorrows of an old cottage, a pitiful harvest

genders:

buncottagecoric(link),

cottagegoric(link), cafdreamian(link), cottagecrittean(link), cottagecoric(link), Cálidatierramielgender(link)

epuisetristic(link)

gendersob(link)

Sadnostacatgender(link)

orientations: (n/a)

other:

cottagecore bpd(link)

many can be found by searching cottagecore genders/mogai/liom as well, there are many versions of cottagecore flags especially for lgbt related labels so they should not be hard to find if you feel like looking!

*system can be replaced with any alternative (ex. cluster, collective, hoard/horde, etc)

**one can be replaced with any prn

[theoutcastrogue]

19th century Sheffield bowie knives

A HUNTING KNIFE, JOSEPH RODGERS & SONS CUTLERS TO HER MAJESTY, SHEFFIELD, CIRCA 1860 with tapering blade formed with a spear point, stamped with the maker’s details on one face, and ‘The Hunter’s Companion’ in script, rectangular ricasso struck with star and cross mark, German silver hilt comprising recurved quillons with flattened scrolling terminals, cap pommel (fitted with later copper alloy oval), and spirally-bound fishskin-covered grip, in its leather scabbard with German silver chape and locket, the latter with a belt hook, 23.5 cm blade

A HUNTING KNIFE FOR THE AMERICAN MARKET, MAPPIN & WEBB, SHEFFIELD, CIRCA 1880 with robust blade formed with a clipped-back point with false swage, notched at the forte, stamped ‘Celebrated American Hunting Knife’ in capital letters, ‘Self Defender’ in script on a scroll, rectangular ricasso stamped with the maker’s name and ‘Trustworthy’ on one face of the ricasso and ‘US’ on the other, German silver oval cross-piece and chequered horn scales retained by six rivets, in its German silver mounted leather scabbard with locket and chape each engraved with groups of three lines, and the former with a stud for suspension, 25.3 cm blade

A BOWIE KNIFE, LATE 19TH CENTURY with single-edged blade formed with a pronounced clipped-back point, etched with a Federal eagle and inscriptions on one face including ‘America The Land of Freedom’ and 'The Patriot’s Self Defender’, recessed ricasso stamped ‘Best Quality Rough & Ready’ German silver guard, ferrule and pommel, the latter chased with flowers, and rosewood grip, in its tooled leather scabbard, 19.8 cm blade

A SMALL BOWIE KNIFE, JONATHAN CROOKES, SHEFFIELD, LATE 19TH CENTURY with broad blade formed with a clipped-back point, recessed rectangular ricasso struck with the maker’s name and heart and pistol mark, German silver hilt comprising recurved guard, ferrule and pommel each decorated with scrolling foliage in low relief, and mother-of-pearl grip, in its German silver mounted leather scabbard with belt loop,14.5 cm blade

A BOWIE KNIFE, JONATHAN CROOKES, CIRCA 1880 with straight blade formed with a clipped-back point, slightly recessed rectangular ricasso signed by the maker and with heart and pistol mark, and natural staghorn grips (perhaps an early replacement), 15.3 cm blade

A BOWIE KNIFE, JOSEPH RODGERS & SONS, CUTLERS TO THEIR MAJESTIES, NO. 6 NORFOLK STREET, SHEFFIELD, LAST QUARTER OF THE 19TH CENTURY with broad blade formed with a clipped-back point, struck with the maker’s details and star and cross mark on one face (small areas of light pitting), oval German silver guard, and natural staghorn scales retained by five rivets, in its leather scabbard with large German silver locket and chape, 20.8 cm blade

A DAGGER, MARKED MAZEPPA, PROBABLY SAMUEL HANCOCK & SONS, LATE 19TH CENTURY with broad blade formed with a clipped-back point, recessed ricasso struck with a figure strapped to a horse’s back and ‘Mazeppa’ on one face, German silver hilt cast in low relief, comprising guard and pommel decorated with scrolls, milled copper alloy fillers and hardwood scales, in its tooled and gilt leather scabbard,17.2 cm blade

A BOWIE KNIFE, LINGARD, PEACROFT, SHEFFIELD, PROBABLY 1870 with single-edged blade formed with a clipped-back point and part swaged back-edge, rectangular ricasso stamped ‘Lingards Celebrated Bowie Knife Pea Croft, Sheffield’, German silver hilt comprising two-piece guard and pommel each cast with scrolls and foliage in low relief, brass fillets, staghorn scales, and vacant German silver escutcheon, 21.0 cm blade

AN ARKANSAS BOWIE KNIFE, MORTON & SON, SHEFFIELD, CIRCA 1850-60 with tapering blade of flattened-diamond section, recessed rectangular ricasso struck with the maker’s details (worn, partly illegible), German silver hilt comprising ‘split’ cross-guard and two-piece pommel each decorated with scrolls and foliage in low relief, and a pair of small bone scales retained by two rivets, 22.7 cm blade

A BOWIE KNIFE, WRAGG & SONS, SOLLY ST, MID-19TH CENTURY with broad double-edged blade, recessed ricasso signed in small stamped letters, German silver cross-piece and pommel, the latter cast with an alligator-horse on each face, and horn scales (restorations), in its tooled and gilt leather scabbard with German silver mounts, 30.8 cm blade

tinyurl.com/yr4hd4pr

[rom-e-o]

Nobody's Approval (Constance/Ebenezer) (Modern AU)

@quill-pen has been providing some top-tier fashion inspiration for the Scroogeverse, and a spicy, academia-inspired fic was a natural result of all the top-tier headcanons. I had so much fun with the fashion, motifs and scenery in this story.

That being said, THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. Minors, DNI.

Fic is below the cut~

He … had to be dreaming. The sight before him couldn’t have been real.

Just moments before, Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge had been twisting about in his bed at home, furiously trying to find some position that would prompt his body to slip into the catacombs of slumber.

He’d been trying in vain all evening to get the visions of his uncomfortably beautiful clerk, Constance DoGoode, out of his thoughts. They’d spent the entire day alone in the office together, working in tandem in a tense silence that was thick and cloying.

Every time his mind had drifted, he’d thought of her. Now, even as he attempted to rest his mind (and certain parts of his anatomy) he remembered the scent of her vetiver perfume and the way her copper hair caught the light, and he was tossed right back into the throes of delusion for her.

Then, with just a flutter of his eyelids, she was miraculously in front of him.

She was there … but not in his bed.

In a manifestation as quick as lightning, he was back in his office, still dressed in his starched work shirt, slacks and tie. It was as if he’d never left for the day, as even the accidental ink stain on the joint of his thumb was still present from the leaky pen he’d thrown out earlier in the day.

The sky was dark, and all the other offices were shuttered. Everyone else appeared to have gone, as they should have been at such an hour.

Yet, somehow, he was right back at the bank. And he wasn’t alone.

Constance, dressed in the same brown, tweed pencil shirt and matching blazer that she’d worn mere hours before, was waiting for him at his desk.

The woman was facing him, her posture deceptively casual as she leaned against his lacquered, executive desk. Her cornflower blue eyes remained trained on his icy ones, her lashes painted dark with mascara and her smirking lips a delicious shade of rosewood. Even her freckles seemed to pop more than usual.

Gods, she was a vision, he thought. Framed against the backdrop of an after-dark London skyline, a blend of historic spires and modern skyscrapers, her already disarming beauty was inscrutable.  Her mile-long tanned legs were crossed casually at the ankle, the additional height of her faux-crocodile Manolo Blahnik heels only serving to further highlight the glorious build of her legs and thighs. Speaking of her thighs, her pencil skirt was pulled up to reveal more skin than before. The slightly taut fabric accentuated the softness at the tops of her legs, and he wondered how they would feel under his hands. Or around his hips. Or around his face.

Her coppery hair was curled delicately and styled so it fell in loose spirals about her shoulders. Half of her hair was pulled back with a satin ribbon, tied neatly in a bow with matching tails that fluttered when she walked. He had admired the look on her many times before, as she wore it daily to the office. He’d lost count on how many times he’d longed to thread his fingers through those sun-kissed strands. How he’s been bombarded with daily thoughts about twirling those glowy strands around his fingers or lifting delicate curls to his lips to place delicate kisses upon.

Of course, on either side of her face were those familiar, unruly curls that always seemed to spring up and rest upon her cheeks. He secretly adored those springy little curls of hers, taking extra joy in occasions when she didn’t try to gel them down or pin them back.

Her blazer was, oh … she was opening it. How had he missed that? Had he truly been so distracted? Was he so predictable of a man.

She then laughed; a musical, casual sound that he could have listened to for hours. Had she read his mind? He blushed at the realization, and felt his trousers become slightly more constricting in the same breath.

As she popped the last button of her blazer, she pushed the coffee-colored top aside to reveal her ample bosom donned in a beautiful (but delightfully flimsy-looking) lace bra. The fabric provided virtually no tangible support, but sod that, he was of the mind that she looked even more lovely for it. The natural slope of her heavy breasts, combined with the slightest peek the garment offered at her apricot-brown nipples … it made his legs buckle. His swallowed thickly, consumed with thought of kissing down her cleavage, and taking the peaks of those woman mounds into his mouth, worrying them until she was mewling and whimpering. How would her skin taste? Would it be as soft on his lips as her hands were when she grazed his fingertips by accident?

His hands remained clenched at his sides, his restraint waning.

He wanted to reach out. To touch her … but the second he did, he knew it would be gone.

 As if she couldn’t drive him to further madness, the woman threw another match on the already churning fire.

Moving her hands to the edge of the desk for support, she leaned back, hopping up so that she was seated upon his desk. Then, with maddening slowness, she parted her legs inch by glorious inch.

She was bare beneath her skirt, and already wet with need.

He inhaled with a hiss, shoulders arching and chest expanding. Fuck, it couldn’t be real.

“Make love to me, Ebenezer…” she whispered pleadingly, eyes glazing with a wetness that matched the yearning between her legs. “Right here. Now. Please. Please…”

If only, he thought.

He took one step forward, and the vision faded, the beautiful woman before him becoming a fuzzy distortion, until finally, she was gone.

Yet, for a moment, he swore her gaze still lingered through the illusions.

“Please.”

He awoke with a start, snapping upright in bed as if he was a drowning man who had just pulled himself up and free from a tide pool.

The first thing he registered was the sweat rolling down his brow and back, then the suffocating feel of the linen pajamas he wore. Cursing, he reached down and pulled his shirt up and off, tucking his chin to his chest to easily pull it up and over. Once he’d balled that up and flung it across the room (careful not to hit Prudence, who was blissfully out like a night in her bed in the corner) he reached for his pajama pants. Upon pulling them down, the relief on his erection was immediate.

“Fuck…” he gasped, laying a hand over his forehead.

Arching proudly toward his navel, his cock was already nearly purple at the tip, a small beam of precum shimmering at the top. All that, just from a dream about her?

Swearing, he reached down with his free hand and clenched the base tenderly, attempting to belay further pleasure.

“Down, boy…” he whispered, head falling back with a sigh as he settled back into reality.

As the tenderness ebbed and rigidity fled the tense sinews of his body, his mind still wandered. Speaking her name like a prayer, he shut his eyes and willed himself to relax.

Tomorrow, he had to do something to ease the tension. They’d been on two dates already, but things had become more complicated since then.

When they’d first started seeing each other, she had been working as a barista at the coffee house. Then, she’d gotten fired from the nightclub (well, all the staff had been fired, as was the natural result of a fraud investigation), and he’d invited her to work as a clerk for him, Bob Cratchit, and his twin brother. It was a perfect arrangement, in a business sense. She filled the role of a clerk perfectly, her poise with people and her knack with numbers making her a one-in-a-million find. She was perfect.

“Which is why you can’t continue to court her, you daft buffoon,” he reminded himself aloud, the words as worn as if he’d dragged them across concrete to speak them. “You’re her employer. It’s not ethical.”

He was being delusional, he thought. A man like him, lanky and graying – a literal lifelong bachelor, with a woman who was literally a former model? It was a joke.

“She … deserves more. Better.”

He rolled over to face the window of his bedroom. He glimpsed the same skyline he’d seen in his dreams and grimaced against the pale silk of his pillowcase.

Fuck. Fuck.

What the hell was he going to do?

“You’re going to ask her out again. That’s what you’re going to do, mate.”

Ebenezer's left-brained twin brother and business partner, Ebenezar Charles Scrooge, stared up at him with an unamused expression.

“H-How can you say that so easily?” Ebenezer asked, pacing another frantic lap around the outdoor café table they were both seated at. “Do you know what could happen? We could lose our best clerk! S-She could walk.”

The older twin’s latte sat vacant, quickly growing cold, while the other sipped hot chai and watched the man pace about. His eyes followed him over the paper rim of his cup, his gaze unamused and his brows furrowed.

“This isn’t about losing a clerk, Sammy,” Ebenezar remarked. “We both know that.”

As if caught in a spotlight, Ebenezer turned and flashed him a wide-eyed stare. “The bloody hell do you mean?”

“Mother of—we’re too old for this.”

He finished his tea in one swig and thumped the cup on the table with adamancy that made his twin jolt. “I mean that we both know we don’t put business relations above personal ones. Not anymore.”

He leaned forward in his seat, eyes boring into his brother’s. Searching. Knowing. They were identical twins, after all. They could attempt to keep secrets from each other, but it had been a fool’s errand for decades.

“Come off it,” Ebenezar said, “You’re afraid of losing her, not her position.”

Blanching and blushing at the same time, Ebenezer slid into his seat and steepled his fingers at the accusation. “Now look here—”

“You don’t have a leg to stand on,” his twin said, “You’ve been out with her twice already, you’ve bought her flowers, you took her to Estella’s for your first dinner date, you always stare at her at work—”

“Not always!”

“—Blimey, man, it’s so obvious!”

Ebenezer slinked back in his chair, caught but not defeated.

“The fact remains that it would be extremely improper for us to be in … any kind of relationship. I have superiority over her! Not literally, but technically, in the eyes of our company. You know. I-I wouldn’t want her to feel forced to comply…I mean…”

As he tripped over his words, Ebenezar smiled gently. “You care for her, and don’t want her to think she has to agree to a relationship with you to keep her employment. Yes?”

“Exactly!” The sound came out as both an exclamation and a sigh. “That’s the last thing I want. I-I’d never want to pressure her into anything, or even imply that our relationship was something that needed to be reciprocated. I-I don’t need us to be involved. I certainly…would like it, but I’d never use that as any leverage for anything.”

“So, you don’t want to fire her?”

His head bounced up from sulking as if he’d been electrocuted. “No!”

“Or break things off with her?”

“No!”

The word came out more strident than he intentioned, and the guests at the smattering of other outdoor tables glanced over in concern. Muttering a hushed apology, he turned back to his brother, returning the man’s chuckle with an embarrassed glare. “Of course I don’t, you twit!”

“You two began dating before you brought her aboard, you know,” he reminded gently. “Last I checked, she agreed to go out with you. Quite enthusiastically, it seems.”

“I’m aware,” he drawled, pinching his brow. There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where he didn’t recall her giddy smile when he picked her up for their first date … nor a night where he didn’t think of their first kiss on her cottage doorstep. He still swooned when he remembered the feeling of her plush lips against his, and smirked at the memory of her roommates on the other side of the door audibly whispering in excitement and cheering in hushed tones (or, what they’d thought had been ‘hushed’ at the very least.)

“And you two work quite well together in the office,” he said, casually smirking at the incriminating blush that spread across his brother’s cheeks at the insinuation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to spot his brother speaking with Constance regularly, even when matters of business were not the topic of discussion. “I don’t recall any awkwardness.”

“It’s…amazingly pleasant to be with her, I’ll confess.”

“No need to confess. I have eyes.”

“Smart ass. You know, it’s been forever since I enjoyed the company of another so much. Not since…”

“Since Isabel?”

He froze, realization hitting him like a brick across the cheek.

Isabel, the woman he’d loved with all his heart … and one whom he’d lost to the same hesitation. Due to inaction, he’d sent away the woman he had once dreamed of marrying. The woman he, at one point, had wanted to start a family with.

“I … see,” he whispered.

Then, with a puff of laughter, his head fell into an overturned hand. “Damn. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re overly careful, and a little dense, but not an idiot,” his twin corrected. “Well, not yet. But if you keep dawdling here and waste the rest of this lovely spring day with me instead of her … well, then you’re irredeemable, I’m afraid.”

No further advice was needed.

After throwing down some bills to pay for the latte he’d been far too nervous to drink, Ebenezer thanked his brother and left the café immediately, starting down Cooper’s Row and moving briskly northward in the direction of Lloyd’s Avenue. In one hand, he held onto his bifold, making a beeline to an esteemed florist he knew to be nearby. In another, he held his cell.

He punched in Constance’s number by heart, then crossed his fingers she would answer.

Just two hours later, right as the sun set, Ebenezer was en route to the cottage Constance shared with her three roommates.

She’d not only picked up, but … she’d sounded happy. Relieved, even.

“Really? Y-Yes! I was hoping you’d ask me out again. It’s been a while…I’d love too!”

After purchasing a large bouquet of forsythia dressed on golden tissue and coffee-colored satin ribbon, he’d gone back to his flat, changed into one of his finest suits, and drove to her home to pick her up. It was nice enough that he could have walked, but he had special plans for the evening, and wanted to make sure her every whim would be catered to. Whether it was the comfort of not catching a chill on a nighttime walk or the relief of not having to walk blocks in tall heels (which he knew she liked to wear) he was devoted to anticipating her every need and catering to it.

There would be no more half-measures.

As he drove, his thoughts droned in his head like a hive of aggravated bees.

“It’s been a while.”

She’d been waiting. For him.

Bloody hell, his heart ached to think that she had doubted his interest in her. He’d had her best interest in heart, true, but he’d made assumptions.

Not again, he told himself firmly, gripping the wheel firmly as he turned into the cottage’s narrow drive from the side street and parked his car.

His long legs carried him from the driver’s seat of his car and to the front door in record time. After a small internal debate about ringing the bell or knocking, he opted for the bell. It felt more gentlemanly, he reasoned, which is what he wanted to be for her.

He’d braced himself the best he could before the front door opened, and yet, he still wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

“Gods above.”

Constance stepped out, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped satin dress that rested as beautifully over her as a second skin. The color, a deep coffee shade, transported him to his dream from the night before. Her hair, pulled back partially with a black ribbon, was curled to perfection. A pair of strappy, black heels artfully laced up those wonderfully sculpted legs, the patent black color matching her handbag.

As she stepped out into the night, she smiled bashfully. “Hi.”

“H-Hello,” he said, then brandished the flowers for her. “For you.”

At the sight of the impressive blooms, her eyes lit up in joy. He took equal pleasure in placing the bouquet in her arms with ginger care, taking a step back afterward to admire the full sight of her.

She cradled the long stalks of forsythia like one would cradle an infant, her disbelief as endearing as it was legitimate. “T-These are beautiful … and the ribbon! I-It even matches my dress! How did you know?”

“I just had a feeling you’d wear that color tonight,” he said, “Brown does looks gorgeous on you. Like every other color.”

He paused, his gaze licking up and down her form. “You … look breathtaking.”

Burying her face in the golden petals to conceal a laugh, she peered up at him with excited eyes. “T-Thank you.”

Heat passed between them – a raw need clothed in tepid exteriors.

“Ebenezer, I…”

“Con, don’t forget a jacket!” a voice called from within. “You were shivering in the house in that dress. It’s going to be even colder outside.”

Elizabeth "Bess" Sullivan, Constance’s best friend (more like a sister, from how close they were) stepped out from behind the door brandishing a lace trimmed, wrap jacket for her to slip into. At the sight of her date standing there, her sapphire eyes took a moment to read him up and down, as if sizing him up.

Before a word was spoken, he knew what was coming.

“Why, hello there, stranger,” she said, her tone unreadable. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

So, it had been noticed. Of course it had been.

“A horrible oversight on my end,” the man replied, dipping his head respectfully to the midnight-haired woman. “Rest assured; it won’t happen again. I’ve missed having this lovely lady in my life far too much.”

Constance blushed and Bess hummed.

“Trust me,” he added, “If I ever forget myself, you have permission to initiate some choice words with me. Although, you may have to get in line behind my brother to do so.”

The corner of Bess’ mouth quirked upward. “Ah. Good, then.”

After a small detour inside to place the impressive flowers in a vase of water, Bess hugged her friend and bid her off into the night, telling her to be safe, and to enjoy her evening.

“Call if you need anything,” Bess muttered, helping to fix the jacket prettily and evenly upon her shoulders, “I’ll be up and have my phone on me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Constance replied, but her tone dripped with gratitude all the same. “Oh! Um, should I pick anything up while I’m out?”

“What? Of course not, you goofball! You’re on a date. Just have fun.”

After one last hug and whisper of encouragement, Constance drifted to Ebenezer’s side. Offering her an arm, he carefully led her down the cottage walkway and to his McLaren 540C, where he opened the door for her to slide in. She did so with a murmured ‘thank you’ that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

With one last polite wave to Bess, he rolled out of the narrow drive and merged back into the main roadway, the sounds of regular city traffic rushing to meet them as he accelerated onto the freeway.

As they cruised through the twinkling streets of an after-dark London, Constance took the opportunity to glance over and smile. “I didn’t have a chance to say so when you were picking me up, but you look … very handsome tonight.”

She blushed then, averting her eyes nervously. “I mean, you always look handsome! It’s not like tonight is the exception. But you look … especially dashing tonight.”

One hand remaining on the wheel, he reached over and took one of her smaller hands in his. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed her knuckles, allowing his touch to linger for a few extra seconds after the initial caress ended.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said truthfully. “Thank you.”

He wore a dark navy Brioni ensemble with soft, pale blue stripes and darts to add just enough texture without being too busy on his tall frame. His belt and shoes were made from a deep, dark brown leather, matching her outfit yet again. It was a choice he’d instinctually made at the last second, but it was paying dividends in spades. Judging by how her keen eyes examined him, she was … impressed.

“By the way, you never said where we’re going tonight,” she realized aloud. “Is it a surprise?”

He chuckled as they lazily rolled to a stop at a red light.

“Not an intentional one, but I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless,” he said, shifting the gear manually. “Want me to tell you?”

She hummed, considering the offer, then shook her head. “No. I think I’d like to be surprised!”

He laughed, nodding in agreement. “Very well. We’ll be there in five minutes, so you won’t have to be in suspense long.”

Her eyes widened, the bright blue orbs practically neon against the dark cityscape behind her. “Five minutes? It’s that close?”

“It’s a secretive, hole-in-the-wall place. Exclusive, you could say. I’ve known about it for a while.”

“Have I been there?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

“Hm. Well, I'm still getting used to the city, so it'll be exciting to see anywhere new! Heck, it may become a new favorite spot."

He chuckled warmly, snapping on his turn signal to weave down a slightly tighter street in a more historic area of the city. "I certainly hope so."

True to his word, five minutes later, he expertly parallel parked his car in a free space along the cobbled street. Stepping out after a cursory glance to make sure the street was clear, he rounded the car and opened the door for her. “And here we are. Here.”

Dipping down and offering a hand to help her stand, he guided her out of the car with expert poise and grace. He was quick to note the slippery glaze coating the cobblestones below.

As poised and professional as Constance was, she wasn't the steadiest on her feet. Ever.

Just as she lost balance, his arm flew around her waist to support her. "Woah! Ha...careful there. I've got you."

Her hand landed squarely over his chest, as if magnetizing to the pulsebeat of his heart.

“Oh! U-Um, thank you.”

He nodded, his hands holding firm even after she was momentarily steady. “Anytime.”

As they walked into the small, vertical brownstone, his arm remained protectively around her. For good reason too, as she looked around in intrigue as they drew closer, focusing anywhere but where she was walking. Unlike the other bars lining the street, the one they were advancing into has a large stoop and spacious windows with blooming boxes of pansies, ironically hardy against the spring night chill.

The centerpiece of the establishment was a palatial arched doorway, the columns on either side made of emerald green marble and gilded rings of sculpted flowers.

The warm, Italianate features of the building were a stark contrast to the moss-dappled stone walls and dark iron accents featured on other pubs and shops dotted along the lamplit historic streets.

Her eyes sparked at the scenery, and he couldn’t resist smirking at the fact that he knew why.

“Does it remind you of home?” he inquired as they reached the door. “Of New York?”

“It does,” she answered. “W-where are…”

 With a light shove, he pushed the door open to reveal a cozy, dimly lit speakeasy. Stained glass lamps diffused soft halos of warm light over an impressive bar. Tall bookcases lined the walls, each one stacked to the brim with novels and vintage paperbacks. Potted plants and palms of all shapes and sizes were scattered about, all as lush and green as if they’d been planted in the Amazon. The walls, patched with peeling wallpaper, displayed framed prints of Matisse’s Polynesian-inspired works, alongside other impressionist, oceanic pieces.

On the sill of one of the front windows, a glass bowl was adorned with sticks of orange and cayenne-scented incense, the smoke filling the air with a biting, fruity aroma.

It … looked like home.

“It’s a New York-inspired dive, right here in London,” he said. “Completely authentic. Well, as authentic as you could manage here, of course.”

He took a peek at her face, delighted by her obvious excitement. Still too thrilled to speak, the woman allowed Ebenezer to help her out of her jacket and escort her to the bar, lined with mismatched stools that looked like they’d been plucked out of a handful of diners from across the country.

The bartender, in a decently-passing American Midwest accent (it was a little too Patrick Bateman-esque to be convincing, she thought with a grin), ask the two what they’d like for the evening.

“Don’t even try it, man,” Ebenezer teased. “She’s from Manhattan. Born and raised.”

Blanching, the man looked to her with a look that begged forgiveness. “Ough, sorry! Cripes, that must’ave been like getting a knife in ya ear!”

“No, not al all!” Connie replied with a laugh, waving a manicured hand about as if to wave away his worries. “It’s not like I can pull off a convincing London accent on my end, and I live here!”

The good faith earned them a free preliminary round of drinks, put on the tab of “American generosity.”

One scotch and vodka soda later, the two tucked themselves into a corner booth, their small table forcing the two to cozy up, their legs practically crossing over the other’s. They were practically joined at the hip, yet it wasn’t an arrangement either of them minded in the slightest.

As they sipped their drinks, the antique speakers played a tinny recording of Tracy Chapman, the soft vocals filling the intimate lounge wall to wall with swells of sound. Each crescendo or thrumming melody reverberated with the passion of a second heartbeat.

Maybe together we can get somewhere Any place is better Starting from zero, got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove

“This place is so perfect,” she whispered, glancing around the space, breathing deeply, as if she was trying to lock the memory away in her brain and her lungs to live in for as long as possible. “I…really feel like I’m back in SoHo. Or Brooklyn.”

Laughing in equal parts relief and joy, he eyes her idle hand on the table. His free hand itched to reach out and take it. “I’m so glad you like it here.”

“Oh, I love it! I’ll have to come here more often. It’s not too far from the bank, yes?”

He hummed as he calculated a rough estimate of the distance in his head. “It’s … fifteen blocks, maybe.”

“Not bad at all! Oh, I’ll definitely be coming here more often after work. Imagine this place on a humid, rainy day!"

"I thought you disliked rain?"

"Oh, I do, but here on a rainy day? That's different!"

"What? How so?"

"Listening to jazz while thumbing through old books and drinking espresso all day? Oh, I already have chills!”

She was so visibly enthralled and happy … it was impossible for him to take his eyes off her. Well, truthfully, that was the case for him anytime he was fortunate enough to share space the same space and breathe the same air as her. Yet, in that moment, her palpable glee was so contagious that he found himself homesick for neighborhoods in a city he’d never set foot in before.

“Well, if it’s not far from the counting house, perhaps we could … both come here more often?” she asked tentatively, peering up at him through spiked, mascara-coated lashes.

The man’s expression softened, but his smile broadened.

“I…think I could absolutely agree to that arrangement,” he replied.

Reaching out, he took his hand gingerly in his own, his thumb stroking the underside of her warmed palm.

“In fact, Constance, I’d … very much like to see you as often as possible,” he began softly,

“Oh?” There was a skip in her gasp.

“I’d…quite like the honor of officially courting a lady like you,” he whispered, leaning in close enough so his words were audible only to her. She followed suit, the resulting proximity nudging them close enough for their foreheads to touch.

The feeling of skin on skin made her shudder, and when their eyes connected again, he spied the most lovely, apricot blush on her cheeks.

“I’d very, very much like that,” she replied, just a touch breathless. "Is it ... alright for us to do this? I'm not going to...put you at risk for losing credibility, right?"

Of course, she was concerned for his reputation, not her own.

"Nothing would put me at risk," he said, his tone hushed but firm. "I have everything I could want, in a business sense, and additional resources to be comfortable forever even should the market plummet tomorrow. I need nobody's approval for us to be together ... except yours."

“Ebenezer. I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I do,” he said.

You gotta make a decision Leave tonight or live and die this way

“I’m sorry it took me so long, angel.”

With a sound that sounded something between a sob and a laugh, she leaned forward and urged him into a kiss. He accepted readily, tilting his head to meet hers, then moaning one their mouths molded fully. His free hand traveled up her arm to grip her shoulder, her tanned skin practically branding him. Holding her was like embracing condensed sunlight, her form blazing with heat and radiance.

The dimness of the space concealed them from nosy onlookers, keeping each other’s looks of bliss and gasps of delight a secret from everyone else except them.

Their kiss ensnared the attention of all his senses. He all but drank in the taste of vodka on her lips, and practically melted when he felt her lift one of her bare legs to possessively twine around one of his, her heeled foot running up and down his leg.

He could have nudged her against the closest wall and kissed her senseless, and a primal part of him wanted to do just that and more. Yet, the other part of him wanted to be … softer. To hold her, Kiss her. Stroke her hair, and continue to tenderly hold her hand all through the night.

When the kiss broke, punctuated by her giving his bottom lip a playful bite, he swore he’d never felt such fondness for another in all his days. In that moment, she had his body, mind and heart as her playground … and instead of toying with him and having a field day, she laid her head of cinnamon-colored hair upon his shoulder.

He was quick to angle himself so she could rest as comfortably as possible, a hand falling upon her back to caress lovingly.

Lovingly, he thought, practically delirious from joy.

When he did look up and saw the bartender making his rounds and polishing up the water rings and napkins left behind by other patrons, he held his hand up, calling for another rounds of drinks.

They were going to be there for quite a while, he figured.

After all, they had a lot of lost time to make up for, and all the approval they needed to get started.

Tracy Chapman always makes me tear up, but these two find it romantic! Silly geese, these two.

[hernakedmuse]

Farah Darwish

Full Name: Farah Odette Darwish

Birthday: November 30th

Place of Birth: London, UK

Father: Malik Darwish, heir to Sudanese Pure-Blood family, alma mater is Beauxbatons. He’s from Paris.

Mother: Sabrina Darwish (nee Shacklebolt), socialite, best friend of Narcissa Malfoy and Aphrodisia Zabini.

Sibling: Idris Darwish ( her three year old little brother)

Blood Status: Pure-Blood

Hair: Black

Eyes: Chocolate Brown

Skin: Deep Midnight Brown

Patronus: Swan

Wand: 13”, Copper, veela hair core

           11”, rosewood,rose quartz, african mermaid hair core.

House: Slytherin

Height: 5’10

Familiar: A Himalayan cat named Scheherazade

To deliver her letters she has a white swan called Leda

Farah, is known to be one of the most beautiful at Hogwarts. She’s tall with deep, midnight brown, flawless skin that always glows, she’s leggy with slight hips and a perky, round backside, her breasts are perky and above average but suit her delicate frame. Her hair is shiny, raven black, she wears silky and wavy down to her hips and always smells like her rosewater. Her eyes are hooded and upturned, naturally bedroom and a glimmering chocolate brown with long sable lashes, she has very full lips and a swan-like neck. She is described to move with grace of a swan, and her voice is soft yet joyful, her nails are always manicured, hair always perfect and makeup without fault. Farah loves pink and always has it on somewhere even with her uniform.

Like her parent’s, everything she wears has a label, and while her pure-blood parents are very proud of their lineage, they do wear elite muggle labels as well. Hanging out with her best friend Emily, Farah has become obsessed with what the muggle world has to offer and when she spends holidays with her they go mad on Oxford street, and when they visited Emily’s American family in New York, they bought up Fifth Avenue.

Mattheo Riddle has been in love with Farah ever since the first day of first year. She was always so beautiful, didn’t have to grow into her looks, and she was always the one to notice when he was having dark days and moments, always cheering him up by her presence. 

As years passed he became more obsessive with her, when she dated Blaise Zabini in fourth year he was anguished and he and Blaise stopped being friends for a long time. After that he didn’t let any guy get too close to her, he will never let her out of sight again. He has gotten into countless brutal fights over Farah, she is his only.

[acronym-chaos]

Harpysensus

[PT: Harpysensus].

[ID: A rectangular flag with six diagonal stripes. The width and colors from leftmost to rightmost stripe are: thick rosewood, thick dark chestnut, medium antique brass, medium copper, thick sepia and thick black bean brown. In the center of the flag there is a copper symbol of a side looking silhouette of a human head with six copper rays around it. Both the head and rays are outlined twice with black bean brown and rosewood. Inside of the head there is a black bean brown symbol of a bird's talon. End ID].

Harpysensus: A sensus term for when your mindset is or resembles that of a harpy.

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom End ID].

Requested by anon!

@radiomogai

[rorytunes]

Guitar tour

My lovely son my electric 😇 Good friend, easy to play, pretty rosewood fretboard, good sound, bought for $20 by my uncle in the 90s, stolen by my father, stolen by me. Does not hurt my hands ever. Is nice to me

His brother the acoustic. I don't like him. Evil. Hurts my hands. I gave him new copper strings and he's ungrateful and he hurts me. Given to me by mother and was given to her by her friend in a band. I call it the E Sex Guitar because in its cavity it bears the label E Sex

Bass

[deduction-substitute]

Hello mx Lucky guy poster can you show me the sacred texts (please explain misty mountains lore I want to know more about it /nf!)

Im so sorry im about to fuck this up because these shitheads have so many points of view of what they BELIEVE to be the truth and im too stupid

SO. Ill try to get into the important bits. Im so so sorry in advance

August was in a field trip with his other club members, Fernan and Moebius, but unfortunately got stuck in the fog

Bai Ze and Master Yin Yang have already expected his arrival due to them being in a loop, though theyre the only ones who remember anything.

Bai Ze is protecting a scroll thats passed down in her family, and she also has this altar lamp, but Master Yin Yang is conspiring with the mirror demon to get it; in return he will help the mirror demon escape the mountain. This is through the mirror demon assuming August's identity

There were three rules Bai Ze set in place to keep August safe but he was stupid/lh So he broke all of them. During this he also meets Paddle, a rosewood paddle who is now a spirit, and Crane, the embodiment of a copper crane who used to be Censer's subordinate

There was this fucking Battle of Changchuan but i dont?? Understand it?? I only know that the people included were Bai Ze, Censer, Crane and this "Three-headed one" but i have no fucking idea who thats supposed to be. There was an arrow that couldve gotten Bai Ze but Paddle took the hit, so he's very fragile now.

August meets Censer, embodiment of a Boshan Censer, who is also conspiring with Master Yin Yang but he's being manipulated. He tells August the "truth" that Bai Ze has trapped them all in the mountain and he tells him to rip off these talismans or whatever before this Ghost Festival to strengthen him (???????)

August has also been sleepwalking, taking off talismans because of Master Yin Yang's bell, I believe? It can control people with the sound

He meets Cierge, who is not of sound mind!! She has these dreams that seem to "foresee the future," but in the end its speculated that its memories from past loops which made her turn insane...she tells August to get the altar lamp so both of them can leave but Crane is like?? HEY why do you want to leave with him but not ME!! I also want to leave to see the outside!!

Anyways its almost Ghost Festival time so Censer tells August to rip off the talismans already so he does! But then stops and goes "you a fake ass mf 😭😭" and throws the boshan censer into the water. Censer cant move his vessel in his current state, so he decides "if im going down youre going down with me!!!" and grabs August's hand to tear off a talisman

What a romantic 😍 Holding hands...

August is like!?!?!? BAI ZE STOP HIDING THE TALISMANS R GOING TO GET DESTROYED!! She comes out of hiding and overpowers Censer, who PUSHES AUGUST INTO THE FUCKING WATER. While Bai Ze rushes to save him, Censer rips off the last talisman. What happens to him? "Any non-human creature which tears off a talisman by force will turn into dust."

Theres two endings to this!!

August wakes up and finds out Paddle rescued him, but the spirit unfortunately perished. He's given the altar lamp to get out but the light slowly starts to dim and he sees Master Yin Yang again

He figures out that Bai Ze and Master Yin Yang knew more than they let on and that theyre in a loop, showing that he's smarter than people give him credit for. He finds out Fernan and Moebius arent his club members and that his full name is August Fernan Moebius.

Master Yin Yang picks up the altar lamp, deems this loop another failure, and we're back to the beginning! August is fortunately alive but still stuck in the loop

Now, the mirror demon ending is what you get if you dont raise affinity with Paddle. This time Crane is the one who rescues him and Paddle is still alive, and "August" figures out that he should leave before tomorrow night's Ghost Festival

"August" meets with Master Yin Yang and gives him the altar lamp, which can disperse the fog and guide him to this mountain cave that has?? Scrolls?? OR WHATEVER?? Then the mirror demon finally leaves as "August"

There was something about a mountain god that was being sealed, which could possibly be the reason behind the fog, but im not too sure about that....

Sorry, I went haywire and Im not able to explain properly further than this...you can see the quality go downhill...im so sorry..

If anyone can better explain or correct me if i said something wrong...please do..

[groundonesix]

Tom Dixon Manner Hourglass Rope Chair

An amazing hourglass rope chair designed after the famous 'S' chair of Tom Dixon.

We are happy to see our chair included in Kelly Behun’s interiors for the prestigious The Whiteley London.

The chair is weaved with rushed rope weaved around a metal frame. It holds a playful and beautiful hourglass shape resembling a seating feminine body making it highly unusual but still comfortable. They would transform any interior either as side chairs on the hallway, bedroom or any other room.

6 x Chairs available.

Please let us know how many you would like.

CREATOR: After Tom Dixon

PLACE OF ORIGIN: UK

DATE OF MANUFACTURE: 1980s

PERIOD: 1980 - 1989

MATERIALS & TECHNIQUES: Powder coated metal, Rope

CONDITION: Good vintage condition

WEAR: All chairs have very strong frame. Some of the rope condition is worn or loose. on some chairs is almost perfect and on some it has some discolouration.

HEIGHT: 106cm 41.8in

WIDTH: 50cm 19.8in

DEPTH: 52cm 20.5in

SEAT HEIGHT: 45cm 17.8in

Request more information

[tessathegamefreak]

I must have info on Dropped-it Delphine! 😸

Of course!

Dropped-It Delphine is the fusion between your main OC Neko and my FFJAU! version of Wreck-It Ralph.

See main appearance here

and her getting pet by an anon here

This gigantic fusion is incapable of being malicious. However, she is extremely ditzy [Thanks to FFJAU!Ralph] and bound to cause lots of property and medical damage when she is about.

Appearance wise, this feminine fusion is both extremely tall [She is currently the tallest one, beating Paradox and Thearletto] and extremely bulky! Her deep teal glasses are taped together at the ridge of her little pink nose. Her fur and hair is the color of sand, and she has the cat features of the Canadian Lynx.

Her overalls are rosewood pink and the pant legs are torn at the thigh. The shirt underneath that is comprised of Twilight Midna's outfit and the gloves are the color of fruit punch. The robe that Neko would normally wear is tied around Delphine's right arm. As for the robe like skirt, the metal that wraps around her hips is made of copper and the fabric of the skirt is torn and frayed at the ends. The fabric is white with cyan patterns, except the patterns create a brick pattern.

As usual, the colors are up to speculation and may change upon digitation, but that's it for now!

[theivydorms]

ROSEWOOD RENAISSANCE READATHON DAY TWO (part one)

THIS IS YOUR SPOILER WARNING and yappuccino warning, im yammering on quite a bit

the way I was immediately able to relate to Lottie recognising car brands from hanging around a boy was insane from the first time I read it to now

"she was not like the other students" Eleanor not like other girls Prudence Wolfson we love you

BINAH MY FAVOURITE WALKING PILE OF BOOKS

Lottie calling Binah "tiny owl girl" then Binah's next words being "fledgling" is beyond perfection and yet another example of connie's writing prowess

the first few times I read UP I would spend ages to trying to see if I could work out what "idiopathic craniofacial erythema" meant but now I know that I will no longer understand science words since getting a C at Nat 5 physics and running from the science department like my life depended on it

if someone has drawn, is going to draw, or has seen art of the archway with the engraved copper portraits of the founder PLEASE LMK! ID LOVE TO SEE IT

I do love the prominent inclusion of twins throughout the series as a twin myself BUT THE FACT THEYRE ALL SO OFTEN LUMPED TOGETHER MAKES ME JUST A LIL ANNOYED. were Shray and Sana attached physically at the hip? why would they both have founded one thing? I dont get it but I do appreciate it cant lie and ofc the parallels to the Tompkins twins!

I for some reason just got like whiplash from Lottie introducing herself as Charlotte to Binah - I think that might be the only time she introduces / refers to herself personally as Charlotte? like the "y" sound at the end of name and the soft L sound at the start just make so much more sense for from just a oration aspect

"If she’d only known in that moment the domino effect those words would have."

QUESTION ( I know Lottie was tired and overwhelmed but) do English people genuinely think about their counties so often that they'd possibly assume someone asked if they were FROM ANOTHER COUNTY? WHILE AT AN INTERNATIONAL BOARDING SCHOOL? like im Scottish and I think about the area im from like regularly but if I thought someone asked me if I was from another county / shire / area I would be wondering why the hell they would be asking that so specifically

honestly iconic and hilarious of Binah to add "she's international" when introducing Lottie

OKAY IVE BEEN TALKING TOO LONG - chapter four and hopefully five will been in a separate part!

[bacchettemagichemb]

Wood magic wand "ARTEMIS" Rosewood, ebony and roe deer antler with copper and aluminium elements by Marco Bianchini

BacchettemagicheMB.etsy.com

Wand dedicated to the cult of Artemis, Goddess of nature, wildlife and hunt

[kultofathena]

Balaur Arms – German Kriegsmesser (Oct. Preorder)

Its large, saber-like blade coupled with a two-handed grip for power and leverage creates a sword with superb cutting and slashing ability. Whatever the source of the Messer and its smaller and humbler forms, a Kriegsmesser such as the one here with its elevated stylization was a weapon for a professional warrior, mercenary or noble.

This Balaur Arms Kriegsmesser – inspired by the Albion Knecht and collaboratively produced with LK Chen – manages to recreate this powerful, large sword in a form that is particularly agile and swift for its size. Its blade features a high degree of distal taper with a thick and strong base which thins considerably toward the main striking portion of the sword to create a blade that will bite into and pass through a target with minimized drag and resistance. The keenly sharp blade is ready for powerful cutting right out of the box; the blade is well-tempered high carbon spring steel with a hardness of 54-55 HRc. The guard and pommel are stainless steel and the grip has two halves of smooth-polished rosewood which are solidly copper riveted to the thick tang of the blade for a tough construction. For heightened durability, the blade tang is peened over the pommel. The nagel gives excellent protection to the knuckle and is solidly fitted to the guard; its base pin goes straight through the guard and is peened on the reverse to ensure that it will not shear off in an impact.

This Kriegsmesser is paired with a durable scabbard of wood which features a finely cast locket and chape of stainless steel. The wood is bound in leather and etched with late Medieval scrollwork on a single side to complete the sword.

Available to pre-order here.

[booksbeansandcandles]

Sabbats: Lughnasadh Basics and Correspondences

Lughnasadh is one of the four Celtic Cross Quarter Festivals, also referred to as the fire festivals. It is the first of three harvest festivals held in the fall. As the grain and corn are gathered and preserved for the season, farmers celebrated the last of the long and warm days of summer.

The cross quarters are linked to an old farming calendar. This was a time when people were very close to the land and their lives were governed by the changing of the seasons and the need to grow enough food to survive. Modern Irish Gaelic calls the month of August Lúnasa which is the modern variation of Lughnasadh. The name originates from Lugh, a mythological hero to some, sun god to others.

NAMES: The festival was adopted as Lammas “loaf mass” during the conversion of old ways to Judeo-Christian ways. Lammas (Anglo-Saxon – “hlaf-mass” = “loaf-mas”), Lughnasadh (Irish-Gaelic), First Fruits Harvest, Festival of Wheat Harvest, Cornucopia, Thingtide, The Feast of Bread, Freyfaxi, Frey Fest

DATES: February 1st (southern hemisphere), August 1st (northern hemisphere)

ENERGY: Waning

COLORS: Red, Yellow, Orange, Gold, Copper, Bronze, Brown, Tan (the colors of the sun and of grain)

ANIMALS: Calves, Lambs, Crow, Pig, Rooster, Salmon

CRYSTALS: Citrine, Amber Tigers Eye, Golden Topaz, Sardonyx, Hag Stones, Opal, Ametrine, Carnelian, Tourmaline, Brown Agate, Desert Rose, Jasper, Fossilized Wood, Yellow Aventurine, Obsidian, Lodestone

PLANTS, FLOWERS, HERBS, TREES: Rosemary, Sandalwood, Rose, Heather, Sunflowers, Grains, Marigolds, Oak, Acacia, Sage, Thyme, Cumin, Curry, Fenugreek, Cinnamon, Myrrh, Frankincense, Daisies, Chamomile, Passionflower, Hollyhock, Mistletoe, Cedar, Myrtle, Rosewood, Madrone, Alder, Redwood, Ginger, Patchouli, Basil, Apple, Blackberry, Blackthorn, Clover, Goldenrod, Ivy, Peony, Rose Hips, Vervain, Yarrow, Zinnias

ASSOCIATED GODDESSES: Demeter, Ceres, Persephone, Sif, Cerridwen, Habadonia, Hathor, Eriu/Macha (Irish Goddess of the Land), Danu, Alphito, Anat, Bastet, Hestia, Ishtar, Isis, Libera, Luna, Rhiannon

ASSOCIATED GODS: Lugh, Adonis, Llew, The Sun God, The Oak King, The Holly King, Dionysus, Tammuz, The Green Man, Cernunnos, Attis, Baal, Cronus, Dagon, Lahar, Neper, Osiris, Freyr, Odin

THEMES: First harvest, abundance, richness, fruitfulness, afterglow, the beginning of the end, generosity, celebrating gifts, sacrifice, turning towards darkness, justice and karma, human and personal rights issues, freedom from abuse of any kind; promotion and career advancement and the regularizing and regulation of personal finances; for holidays and journeys to see friends and family or on business and the renewal of promises, loyalty and fidelity; also willing sacrifice for a long term gain or made in love, trusting the cosmos to provide by giving without seeking immediate return; also for all matters concerning people in their forties and fifties.

ALTAR/DECORATIONS:

Yellow or orange altar cloths

Green, yellow or orange candles

Herbs

Small baskets

Bread can be baked (even from packets) and herbs added to make magical bread

Any straw object such as a corn dolly, grain mother, braided grain, a corn knot, a straw hat or a straw animal tied with red ribbon

Harvest flowers such as poppies or cornflowers, sunflowers and marigolds

Dried grasses, wheat stalks, long ears of grain

Stones with natural holes

Threshing tools, scythe, sickle

Summer vegetables, fruits and squashes (corn & gourds)

Cornucopias

The athame