#sterling lights

[duffmckaganfc]

Modern Patio San Francisco Mid-sized minimalist backyard concrete patio photo

[sevendevilsinwesteros]

Hot Tub San Francisco Mid-sized modern backyard concrete and aboveground hot tub design idea

[consoledacup]

The wedding dance is my favorite dance for sure. And while I adore that BTS video Nicola shared (how generous is she, btw??) and watch it frequently, I really do like what we got in the final edit. Plus, kudos to Tom Verica for imagining the cutaway and springing it on the cast day of filming. Brilliant directing choice.

When Penelope approaches Colin -- after they've been longing for each other at their own wedding?? -- Colin's so game to do whatever she wants. He thinks she's going to ask him to ditch the breakfast, and he's like, where?

But it's lovely that instead, she tells him she'd like to dance with him. And as he's half-heartedly pushing back, you can tell how he's still so charmed by her. By this time, they must have danced with each other a hell of a lot. I love that Penelope constantly reminds Colin of their dance in the empty church. It was just a silly, romantic something Colin did on the fly, but clearly it meant so much to her.

"You Belong With Me" has been Penelope's anthem since before the series started, and it has been Colin's for a shorter, but no less intense, amount of time. And they're in a very uncertain state in their new marriage, so the song still really works.

They may not be ready for a real conversation just yet, but the dance erodes away some of their tension where they can just enjoy each other. And it's funny because as much as Colin postured about not caring what people thought, he's the one scandalized by Penelope's offer. But he extends his hand and leads her to the center of the room without showing any reluctance.

What's so special about this dance is that it spurs other characters to take chances too. The ton has been more or less intrigued by this match, and others have been downright obsessed. So the two lovely dancer couples who probably have very sweet backstories join in. And now it's a dance, not a scandal.

It's not just Colin and Penelope making a statement, but really, it's them giving everyone else permission to just kinda live a little. Who cares if it's a wedding breakfast? And yeah, people might be shocked later on that Penelope is Lady Whilstledown, but can they really say that if they were one of the wedding guests? Penelope has always been challenging the status quo, anonymous or not.

And then John is inspired by the couple's display of affection and rebellion and asks Francesca to join in. And Marcus, who is definitely a romantic, sees the love flowing among Violet's children and their partners and takes that opportunity to approach Violet.

The beauty of this is, the entire time, Colin and Penelope have no bearing on their surroundings or what sort of catalyst their impromptu dance has become. But the rest of the ton do. And instead of becoming scandalized by this faux pas, everyone's actually pretty charmed by it.

Obviously, the intensity during their dance is so magical and the best part of the entire thing. But I really do love how earnestly everyone else responds, too.

[partiallypearl]

Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing. In fact, I bet you do it all the time. You give girls that, that look and expect them to fall for you. Well, It’s not working with me, so get over it.

[eggbunni]

Photo dump from a spread in my Sterling Ink N2V (Weeks sized Vertical layout) compact common planner.

[deepwaterwoman]

Rutilated quartz is an absolutely beautiful stone featuring small slivers of titanium dioxide that appear like shards of gold. This stone is beloved for its ability to clear the chakras and balance the body. 

Referred to as “mermaid tears”, pearls are my favorite bits of sparkle to work with. These freshwater druzy rosebud pearls come in colors ranging from purple-gray to bright and soft pink.

These earrings were made by my hand with loving care. Each crystal, pearl, and bead was selected intuitively! I'm selling on my KoFi if you'd like to see more pairs :)

[jt1674]

[sniffanimal]

me, taking out my earrings: wow I wore these for hours and they didn't start burning! I must not have a problem with the metal!

my earlobes, seconds before bleeding: you would think that wouldn't you

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

THE UK HAD THE BETTER SLEEVE/COVER ART -- "WHITE LIGHT GONNA MAKE YOU GO BLIND."

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on the early '70s UK repress of THE VELVET UNDERGROUND's searing, scorching, scandalous second studio album, “White Light/White Heat,” originally released in January 1968 under the Verve label.

Source: www.picuki.com/media/2718210207749311593.

[agentsterling]

Instead of an Elf on a Shelf, children should be assigned a SHIELD agent who does incident reports.

Our tree didn't pass today's inspection because of this dead bulb. Fury Claus will be hearing about this in his next report back to HQ. 🥺

[bluemoon160]

Third and final drawing of him for now. This is probably the most I’m gonna be able to stylize him before he looks completely unrecognizable lmao.

[scare-ard--sleigh]

okay so speaking of the finale i didn't have time to finish anything new but i rounded up my favorite archer fics for your viewing pleasure, all are rated E <3

💥 no light, no light / 8.8k / While Archer's in a coma, Cyril builds himself a whole new life (for better and for worse.) Messiness predictably ensues when Archer returns. / cyrling

💥 you are everything i want (cause you are everything i'm not) / 4.5k / Archer and Cyril hate each other and are stuck sharing a hotel suite. There's only one bed. / cyrling (vicious hatesex edition)

💥 part of that dream / 7k / There’s an aspect of Fabian’s life that he keeps very secret. / fabicyril, dilf fabian cinematic universe

💥 out of network / 5.9k / Takes place right after 'out of network' (13x05). Cyril has some things to say about Archer's relationship with his therapist. They talk about their feelings later that night. / cyrling (feelies hours)

💥 Prelude, Fugue and Riffs / 3.9k / Takes place before 'fugue and riffs' (04x01), though it's slightly au. Bob and Linda take Archer in after he discloses that he needs a new identity and a place to stay. Tension develops between Bob and Archer, which they happily explore. / insert bob/archer portmanteau here

💥 best friends / 4.3k / Takes place right after 11x05 ("Best Friends.") Cyril helps Archer with his post-coma dry spell. Aleister may have had a point. / cyrling (h/c edition)

💥 like a heathen clung to the homily / 5k / Sterling dresses as a priest for the gang's latest mission. Cyril has some feelings about it, which they explore. / cyrling (priest kink edition)

💥 nothing will feel the same (because nothing will be the same) / 16.5k / This takes place during and then immediately after mission: difficult (12x08.) Life after the Agency takes a toll on Archer. He finds comfort in places that are both novel and very familiar. / cyrilanarcher

[whiterabbitguitar]

Morning tunes 🎶

[boylerpf]

Art Deco Elephant Pools of Light Pendant Necklace

Source - Boylerpf.com

[swindlefingrs]

Sterling - Half-orc Thief

[lizhly-writes]

Allison x Emily, 5!

5. one night stand and falling pregnant au hi it's been forever. honestly i was kinda surprised to see an ask for these guys lol it also feels like forever since they've shown up. anyway, idk how shippy this is (maybeee a lil fucked up?), buuut happy women's day.

When we were younger, Mother always called Emily my little doll – porcelain and perfect, always following after me.

Emily grew snappier about it as she grew older.  True, she would still go along with whatever I wanted, for the most part, but was she ever happy about it?  For a long time now, I couldn’t do anything but make her angry.  

But ah, it’s important to note: that wasn’t my problem last night, and the proof of it is naked in my bed right now, even if she is starting to pull my covers up over her chin.

“Shut up,” Emily says, hazily cracking an eye open, letting the faintest silver of gray peek through.  Such a pale color, almost white, not unlike cracked glass.  She used to have blue eyes.  I do miss them, sometimes, but either way, she’s lovely, even if she’ll never happily hear such a thing from me.  Emily, aren’t you aware that it’s important to know how to gracefully accept a compliment?

“I haven’t said anything, though?” I give her a charming smile that she will also never gracefully accept.  

Charming has always made Emily look like she wants to hit me over the head. Today is no different.  She absolutely looks like she’s contemplating violence, but instead actually attempting to strangle me with my own sheets, she says, “If you say anything, I’ll kill you.”

Unlikely.  I am, by all accounts – not just my own! – exceedingly difficult to kill.

“Whatever you want,” I say generously, taking the liberty to reach around, wrap an arm around her shoulders, pull her in.  It makes her grumble a bit, but she doesn’t try moving away.  I suppose it might be because I run hotter than she does.  Her skin feels so cool against mine.  I wouldn’t mind warming her up, if she was in the mood for a little morning exercise with me.

“You’re far too happy about this,” she says, cracking an eye open.

“Why wouldn’t I be happy about this?”  I lower my voice and my head to her face.  “A beautiful woman in my bed, isn’t that something worth celebrating?”

She snorts.  “I didn’t realize you had the leisure to be interested in this sort of thing.”

…Odd. To her, did I seem particularly busy as of late?

“I always have the leisure to be interested in this sort of thing.  Don’t you always say I have too much free time?”

Emily never did like how much I did with pretty boys and pretty girls.  

For whatever reason, this is what rouses her from half-aware drowsiness.  Wide awake now, enough that her frown is truly directed at me instead the general ungodliness of the early morning. “What are you talking about, I’ve never told you that before.”

This is a blatant falsehood.  We both know this.

“By any chance, is your memory going?  Ask Asher, he’ll tell you you’ve been saying it since we were all children.”

“Since we were.. all…children,” she repeats, slow and suspicious for absolutely no reason at all. Her eyes narrow.  “I’ve said this to Wilhelmina.  I’ve never said this to Allison.”

I don’t believe I enjoy the implications of that sentence.

“Allison? Who’s that, another pretty lady who’s caught your attention?”  The thought of it is irritating.  It’s bad enough, dealing with that Joachim.  Now Allison as well?  “You’ll really make me jealous talking like that.  Who wants to hear some other woman’s name in bed, mm?”

Names, names, names.  Do I know an Allison?  There’s Hannah, but is there some other little nothing that takes up Emily’s attention?

“Ridiculous,” Emily hisses. She pushes me off her and sits up, sheets falling down to her waist.  I don’t have much of a chance to appreciate the view before she hits me.

It’s a decent shot, knives scoring deeply through my face, scraping against bone. It’s also entirely unprovoked.  I don’t mind a fight – I love a fight – but Emily isn’t Asher.  I can’t imagine she’d actually enjoy this sort of thing in the bedroom.  Did I already make her angry today?

… Hmm.  I’m bleeding quite hard, actually.

Well, that doesn’t matter.  What matters more is how I’ve managed to invoke Emily’s displeasure.  Even when I’m deliberately annoying her, the most she’s ever done is insult me. She’s never actually hit me like this.  Is she just in the mood for a fight?  If she wants a fight, I’ll give her one.  Just as soon as I get all of this out of my eye.

There’s.  There’s so much blood in my eye.

No, that shouldn’t matter.  I don’t normally care about that sort of thing. Why do I care right now.  Something like this doesn’t mean anything to me.   I shouldn’t care.  This is fine.  Why do I feel like there’s something wrong.  Something’s wrong.  What’s wrong? 

…Hey.  Hey.

I’ve been fucking knifed in the face.

Of course there’s something wrong!  In any normal world, I’d be calling 911!  Fuck it, someone else would have to call 911, I’d be passed out on the ground!  Why am I acting like this is normal?  This isn’t normal! This – this – !

THIS REALLY FUCKING HURTS ACTUALLY.

“Jesus fuck,” I wheeze, immediately clamping my hand over the bleeding ruin in my face that used to be a working eyeball.  Fucking finally Wilhelmina’s healing starts kicking in beneath my fingers.  Why is that only happening now?  When I’m actually me, injuries start healing immediately, it shouldn’t be different for her.  Unless she decided to keep it from healing?  Why would she keep it from healing?

“Do you remember who you are now?” Emily says, spinning a knife or two in a fun little trick that I’m sure I’d appreciate more if I, you know, had two eyes.

“This is the shittiest morning-after,” I manage.  Isn’t the worst it gets supposed to be a… a… what’s it called.  One night stand.  A pump-and-dump.  What’s the fucking word I’m looking for.

“Your name.”

Right.  That. How could I forget.

It takes me a couple tries, but I get there eventually.  “Allison Lee,” I say to Emily’s incredibly unimpressed expression.  

“Very good, well done,” she says.

“Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it, are you happy.”

“I’m never happy,” Emily says flatly.  Then she turns away to rummage around for her clothing, because obviously stabbing someone in the face isn’t something to be concerned about at all.  I bet she does this kind of thing everyday, doesn’t she?

“Did you have to use knives,” I grit out. Where did you even get those.  You’re naked, there’s zero places for you to hide them.  How did you do that.  That’s not possible.  What the fuck.

“You’re getting increasingly immune to blunt force trauma, so as it happens, yes,” Emilly says, like that’s a reasonable thing to say.

I fucking hate this place.

Emily puts on clothes.  I sit on the bed with my hands over my eyes.  At some point, she says, “Are you going to lie down there all day.”

“Who’s lying down,” I say.

Me.  I’m lying down.  I don’t remember doing that.  It doesn’t really matter.

Emily sighs.  “Sit up.”

“Why.”

“You can go back to sleep if you want, I don’t care,” Emily says briskly.  “But you’re just smearing blood all over your face right now. It’s hardly hygienic.”

“So?”

I can feel her carefully, gently place her hands on my shoulders.  The faint warmth of her breath brushes against my skin.  Unnecessarily close.  Uncomfortably intimate. 

Then she yanks forward and forces me into a sitting position.  I’m almost glad to be in Wilhelmina’s body right now, because if I had actually been me, that would’ve done some terrible things to my shoulder joints.

“Put your hands down,” she says, and wrenches my hands away from my face by the wrists.

I squint at her with one eye.  She’s perfectly put together, fully dressed and hair neatly combed back.  You wouldn’t think at all that she’d been in bed with me five minutes ago, or… however long ago that was.

“You’re terrible,” I say.

“And you’re filthy,” Emily says.  “Don’t move.”  She grabs a wet towel from a bowl on the nightstand – I don’t think that was there before? – and starts wiping down my hands with the brusque, irritated efficiency of a woman who has to clean up her mud-covered child for the third time in three hours.

“I’m not a child.”

Emily holds the towel up to the light, frowning at the red smeared across it. She sets it aside, exchanges it for a fresh towel.  “If that was the case, you’d be cleaning up all by yourself.  But you aren’t doing that, are you?”

No. I’m not.

I don’t want to.  I don’t want to do much of anything right now.

“Not the eye,” I say, which is the one overwhelming desire I feel right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Emily says, like it’s ridiculous that I don’t want her, the person who stabbed me in the eye, to come anywhere close to my eye. “Your eye is likely already healed, there’s no need to make a fuss about it.  You can’t walk around with your face like this.”

Can’t I?

It’s like this, day in, day out.  Can’t do this, can’t do that.  If it’s not Emily reminding me, then it’s my own logic keeping me in line.  Here’s a grocery list of guidelines of how to adjust your behavior, your thoughts, your everything. It’s not, after all, like you’re allowed to act like you.

What am I, anyway?  Certainly not the original Wilhelmina Sterling, but sometimes, I get so damn close. 

I hate this.  I hate her.  I hate this.

“And why not?” I snap out.  “Wilhelmina Sterling picks fights, is it really that weird if she picks the wrong fight and gets stabbed in the eye because of it?  Haven’t you always wanted to stab her in the eye anyway? No one’s going to think it’s weird that you finally had enough and did it!”

“What are you even trying to  – I haven’t always wanted to stab Wilhelmina in the face–”

“I’m sure Rosie Beckett’s always wanted to give it a shot.  But then again, that’s nothing new.  Who doesn’t want to stab her in the face?  Something like that should be normal by now.  Isn’t it normal?”

That’s what this world is like.  A step backwards in modern sensibilities, no sympathy required or even wanted.  Hard, cruel, completely insane in what it considers status quo.

I want to go home.

Emily tries saying something.  I don’t give her the chance.

“I’m sorry I’m making a fuss about this. It might be normal for you, but in my world, you don’t walk off being stabbed in the face!”

“It isn’t as if it’s normal here –”

“Then stop acting like it!”

Silence. Emily is making… an expression.  I don’t know what it is.  I don’t care what it is. I just…

I don’t want to be here.

“You’re right.”

I look up.  Emily has one hand over her eyes, looking a little like she has a headache.

“Am I?” I say.  “About what?”

She gestures vaguely at my head. “This would be a debilitating injury in anybody else.  A permanent one, in most cases.  For Wilhelmina… no.  She easily brushes off damage that would be significant and perhaps fatal to other people.  It doesn’t faze her.  You’re wearing her face.  I suppose I expected the same amount of indifference from you.  It’s…unreasonable of me to do so.”

…Huh.  “Is this an apology?”

“It’s an explanation. You can take it as an apology, if you’d like.”  She raises her hand, as if to go for my face again, and then drops it.  “Your eye probably is healed by now, but even if it isn’t, it’s good to get the blood off.  It can’t be comfortable.”  

She offers me the towel. I take it, because in the end, she’s right.  It isn’t comfortable.

“...It’s getting worse,” Emily says, as I gingerly dab at my eye.  She doesn’t need to clarify what it is. 

“You think so?” I say dryly.  I couldn’t even recognize my own name.  I don’t like that she stabbed me, but if she didn’t, I don’t know how long I would have been stuck like that.  If this goes on for much longer…

I can’t let this go on for much longer.

Another sigh.  “Was it you, last night?  Or….”

Well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?  Was that me?

I let my head loll back.  “Wouldn’t we both like to know the answer to that.”