#woodens storge

[shmowder]

Hello!!👋👋 I was wondering if you could write about something with Andrey& a reader? Just from his character I feel he’d be sort of conflicted about loving another person that isn’t Peter. But that’s just what I’ve gathered from playing, I would love to hear your thoughts on this! I also wouldn’t mind a little smut, only if you want that is.

Andrey Stamatin x reader headcanons

[Fluff, Romance, Slight Angst, Smut, Feelings of conflict, GN Reader]

Falling in love

Many people in this world never get to experience love through the entirety of their life.

Not true love, not really.

Doeant matter what kind, agape, eros, philia, philautia, storge, and xenia.

Not once were they granted mercy by the gods

Even the ones born with loving families are bound to grow up eventually, to spend the remaining of their miserable existence seeking a resembling of that graden in another's arms

They fail

They always fail

Is what Andrey genuinely believed

He only has his brother in this life, and his brother only has him

Clinging to each other amidst the storm, sleeping next to each other in the same bed to drive away the whispering abyss of despair, lifting each other up when one of them tiptoes too close to the edge of life, mesmerised by the promises of comfort death gave

It was unhealthy, he isn't blind

But the healthy and sane could never claim to have created miracles like these two twins

Andrey was convinced that he would never come to loving another the same.

He would steal the moon, would Peter ever ask for it.

Many lovers came and went, men and women alike

Passing through him like ripples through water, never breaking the tension of his surface, never disrupting what sharks lurked below.

Never lasting

He should consider himself lucky for having learned what love is at all, for having felt it

Maybe that's why you shook his world so much

He knew exactly what the burning in his heart meant when you smiled his way

Akin to a whirlpool emerging from below the waves, a vortex reaching deep into the floor of his ocean

To say he was conflicted was the understatement of the century

During some sleepless nights, the ache in his chest was bordering unbearable.

stronger than any withdrawal he went through, what a sin it felt not to look your way across the street as you walked by. Not to gaze upon your face every day

He toyed most with the idea of killing you during those nights

At the end of the day, you were just a flesh bag of meat and bones

A collection of multitudes of bacterial micro-bioms

One bullet is all that it would take.

To end this misery, to scare off the unkown.

To wallow in the comfort of the familiar and mundane like a pig in the mud

He was disgusted with himself, when did he hold such regressive views? When did he ever shy away from the danger of the new?

Enough was enough, he decided to face these feelings headon no matter how terrifying they felt.

No matter how painfully his organs twisted around themselves as if he was betrayiny his oath to Peter for simply loving you

But Andrey knew he would lose all the respect he held for himself if he continued choosing to be a coward

Hiding away was never his style

He'll sail directly into the thunderstorm, choke for air as his eyes burned from the salty ocean waters.

He'd rather surrender his body to the ruthless waves than end up some lost soul on a shore, knowing he was at the edge of witnessing once in a life time greatness but let something as pathetic as fear cloud his judgement.

It didn't go smoothly, confessing to you in a rather blunt apathetic way.

He is used to people crawling for crumbs of his attention, not the other way around.

But he doesn't give up, even when he makes an embarrasment of himself.

That one time, he wanted to buy you a drink, but the glass ended up shattering on the bar's wooden floor when your hand touched his own as he was handing it to you.

It's weird. He feels like he is acting out of character, this doesn't feel like him.

But he has never felt more himself than when he looked at his reflection in your eyes.

He tries to look intimidating, he is dangerous goddammit

...So why do soft laughs come so easily to you when in his company?

Why are you innocent brushes against his shoulder while walking together so electric?

Why can't he stop thinking of you even in a room full of people desperate for his approval

Why aren't you afraid? You should be.

....

But he is content that you aren't.

He will never say it.

But it was a huge burden off of his shoulder for you to do all the heavy lifting when it came to looking past his draped veils of ruthless facades

Ever since loving you, life started feeling anew

Emotions blossoming between his lungs, the hours are longer, the sun burns more brightly as the curtains of dusk fall down.

And his world isn't ending just because he loved another

You surprisingly get along with Peter, very few people in this world ever do. His brother can understand what Andrey saw in you.

The meaning was clear.

Go for it.

Many people in this world never get to experience love through the entirety of their life.

Not true love, not really.

How lucky was Andrey to experience it twice.

♧

Smut Headcanons

[ Dom Andrey/ Sub Reader. Riding, Spitting, Drug-use, Peircing, Exhibition ]

Andrey has a lifetime of sexual experience. He could fill a thousand books.

He could write a hundred reviews for every risqué club which has a reservation under his name.

He tried everything at least twice just to figure out where his preferences laid

Is more than open to experimentation with you

No matter how niche or bizarre your kinks might get, Andrey skimmed over a manual mentioning it in some Captial sex club in the past

He's not deluded with the glamorised version of sex most people tend to hold. If anything, he prefers the stark reality.

The sweat, the groans and the body hair. He lives for something real, someone unsure slowly becoming more comfortable and confident until they let themselves succumb to the pleasure unapologetically

His own kinks vary, it seems like a game of roulette with him which thing will turn him on this time around

But he tends to fall on the dominant controlling end as a habit

Especially loves it when he gets to show off in front of you, almost a form of ritual how he likes to manhandle you in bed

Picking you up just to flip you over so you can look him in the eyes while he eats you out. Teeth grazing over your clit just to watch your thighs shake and twitch.

Digging his nails at the inside of your thighs as he sucks your cock, teasingly licking the head until you're begging to have his warm mouth back on it.

Making you kiss him afterwards and get a taste of your own cum, taunting you with the evidence of your pleasure

Having you sit on his lap all pretty as he lazily rocks his leg to grind against your crotch

One thumb tracing your lips, enjoying the glazed over look of lust in your eyes. The lights are on but no one is home, he can do anything to you and the fact you'd let him feeds his ego like no other.

Pulling you into a kiss as his knee presses harder between your legs, having you squirming on his lap while he makes you swallow his spit in your mouth

The power you let him hold over you is dangerously addicting

He adores it when you leave marks on him, especially with the way he casually walks around with his chest bare for all to see.

For them to stand witness to the hickeys you left littering his neck, to the scratches of your nails down his back.

If you happen to wear lipstick, he will have you on your knees in front of him. Worshipping his cock and leaving kiss marks along his length before moving upwards to his his stomach, chest and finally face.

Wears the smeared makeup marks with pride, especially with the suggestive trail disappearing just below his pants

It's clear he has a preference for the foreplay and theatrics, enjoying them even more than the actual act at times.

Doesn't shy away from using drugs and other stimulants before it, he claims it enhances his experience.

Will offer to share, promising that even just a small drink beforehand will have you experiencing feelings like no other.

But he's not insistant if you decline, he shrugs and doesn't mention it.

Andrey would find it insanely hot if you ever happened to get a piercing, the more inappropriate the are the more lightheaded he gets.

He'd even personally commission you jewellery for them

Flicking the dangling chain from the barbells going through your nipples, watching your body jump as pain twists into pleasure the more he toys with them.

You could very easily convince him into getting one too.

His favourite position would be a one with you riding him, be it his face or cock. Having you on top while he holds all the power below just clicks with his brain right.

Not to mention the great show he gets from watching you bounce up and down, struggling to fit all of him while your thighs are getting cramped from the restless movement.

Begging with your eyes for him to help, whining as you can't get his cock to rub inside you just like Andrey does.

He liked reminding you of how much you're dependent on him for pleasure, of how much he has you spoiled rotten.

No one will ever fuck you like he does, you belong to him body and soul.

Even you can't bring yourself pleasure like he does.

You need him, don't you?

Ask for it.

For him to pick you up and slam his cock into you just right, to stretch your insides and fill you up.

To have your brain turning into mush with each thrust, have you crying into his shoulder from how much it feels too much, too good.

As much as he likes finishing inside, the view of your naked body covered with his cum is too irresistible.

Sending you over the edge before pulling out and rubbing himself at the view of your spasming body mid-climax

Strands of cum falling against your thighs. Painting your stomach and even reaching your chest.

Warm and sticky against your skin

You feel the head of his cock brushing your lips, a silent order to take the thing in your mouth and clean it.

In the aftermath, you're wrapped inside a soft blanket, fresh out of the shower as you drift off to sleep on top of his chest.

You feel his fingers moving against your back, drawing circles and sketching diagrams while his mind turns.

Newborn inventions getting scrapped before they make it into fully fledged ideas.

By the end, he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you tighter into his embrace.

As if he's afraid to lose you, to wake up in the morning with empty hands.

[itsmeimcathy]

Ho postato 3.517 volte nel 2022

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#he's living his best life like. yeah my wife is taking care of me 😌😌 i'm being very normal about this 😌😌 i'm staring a normal amount

I miei post migliori nel 2022:

#5

{ klarolineauseason } week 7: dark

[insp. by "The Conjuring"]

Nik and Caroline Mikaelson are a couple of demonologists whom have recently become infamously known for having investigated a possessed doll called Annabelle.

Caroline met Nik back in university, when she moved to New Orleans to study at Tulane - although the Psychology program was more of an excuse, since the main reason for her choice was her interest in the supernatural and ritualistic culture of the Crescent City. Nik, who at the time was already working at his Anthropology Ph.D., took an immediate fancy in the eccentric student who went around asking weird questions and collecting even weirder objects, and couldn't help but offer his help when she needed it for one of her various researches. She was still preparing for her Master degree when they eventually married.

Although Nik understood barely half of Caroline's stories and experiences, he did come from a family whose roots were imbedded deeply in the city's folklore - his own mother was a true believer of Voodoo and various superstitions - and soon enough he was accompanying the young woman wherever her instincts brought her.

Eventually they left their professional jobs behind after having come face to face with their first, true demonic possession, something that put their actual lives and maybe even their immortal souls in danger: Caroline, who has had psychic abilities ever since she could remember, is relatively shocked by the event, while her husband Nik comes out utterly changed from the experience - he then decides to devote his life to protect his wife to the best of his capacities, thus starting their new career as demonologists, authors and lecturers.

Their travels following various supernatural and paranormal events have brought them all over the world, from United States to Europe to Asia, and they have acquired quite the large, creepy collection of artifacts and objects more or less possessed or demonic. The danger of these entities latching onto them and following them back home is an inexcapable one, but Caroline can count on the help of her best friend Bonnie - a Voodoo practitioner who keeps her safe through blessings, rituals and amulets; Nik was wary of her at first, as if witchcraft was somehow less believable than demons, but he quickly had to change his mind when the amulets Caroline keeps hanging from her neck and around her wrists prevented her from being possessed during one of their interventions. He then started to wear them as well.

Now, they've been back in Virginia for merely a week when they're contacted by Damon and Elena Salvatore, whose house seems to be haunted and is making their lives a living hell...

*****

The old Salvatore boarding house lay nested at the outskirts of Mystic Falls, half hidden by a forest and worringly close to a graveyard which stopped being used at the beginning of the past century. Its stern exterior with the black roof and the dark brown bricks and the ancient wooden fixtures certainly didn't help with the grim reputation of being haunted - which tended to be quite the norm in that corner of Virginia, if a building had the misfortune to date back to the Civil War - but Caroline and Nik had seen far worse.

"You know, I knew Elena back in high school," Caroline murmurs in case Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore are close by, starting to sprinkle salt and red brick dust on the windows sills. "One of those girls who just love playing with an Ouija board, you know? She never believed me when I told her it wasn't safe."

Nik snorts soflty, stepping near her. "And this is what happens when people don't trust you - their house gets haunted."

She elbows him, smirking. "That's not very nice."

"I'm not very nice," he says agreeably, curling his arms from behind around her middle section. "Do you think that's enough?" He then asks as a second thought, nodding towards the window.

"I doubt this will help us, specifically," Caroline replies frankly. "It's to ward off evil and protect the house, but if the evil is already inside... I'm not sure. In any case, it can't hurt to try."

"Maybe you should try burning some sage, too," he suggests, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Well, look at you! My very own expert on cleansing rituals," she turns her head to kiss his stubbled cheek. "I'll do that later."

Nik leans forward to press a more proper kiss on her lips before stepping back with a long-suffering sigh. "Well then, I should go and check the basement. Whatever thing we're facing, chances are it developped in the creepy cells they have down there."

She frowns, not even bothering to hide her worry. "Do you have your crucifix? Good," she nods when he pulls it from under his sweater. "Be careful, try not to touch anything."

"I'll leave everything as it is for your viewing pleasure," he teases with a bow.

Caroline watches her husband as he disappears down the hallway, still limping slightly from their last misadventure - something that still gives her nightmares, with dreadful visions of Nik's bleeding body and a house burning against the pitch black sky. Her eyes turn cold as she sees the lights in the vintage sconces flickering at his passage - too softly to be actually noticeable - almost as if the presence wants her to see, to acknowledge the threat.

She whispers a prayer, and in a blink the lights stop trembling. But her pulse becomes erratic when a sudden chill starts lapping at her fingertips, slithering up her arms, and Caroline brusquely walks back in the living room, grabbing a handful of salt and throwing it behind her shoulder.

She's sure, now, that tonight they'll have a visit.

87 note - Postate 17 luglio 2022

#4

{ klarolineauseason } - week 1: canon divergence

It's been one thousand years - Caroline has officially been alive for as long as Klaus had when he died, and yet, she has never forgotten him.

But a millennia is how long it took her to find a solution to her hybrid-less life, and now she's more than ready to go back and change the past. It turns out that an eternal existence without the warm comfort of Klaus' presence on the sidelines wasn't what she wanted - she had missed him for so long that his absence almost turned into an obsession, and Caroline was tired of dreams and memories.

So now, with the help of a few rare artifacts and some very powerful dark magic, Caroline is going to get herself back in time and prevent the tragedy from happening - no matter how much she will sacrifice in order to do so.

It's time for her to be selfish.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!"

[Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (chapt. XXXIII)]

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

She had died; when the old crone had pierced her heart with a blessed wooden stake, as her chanting became louder and louder and the words lost meaning, Caroline had unequivocally died. She had to, so that her soul could travel backwards, annulling the last millennia like a hand swiping across a blackboard.

One moment she was, the next she was no more - and then it felt like being everywhere and everytime, as the spell warped reality, undoing it, and dragging her back to the time in which she had anchored herself through the little bit of hybrid blood that she had kept all of this time.

It felt like being in the eye of a hurricane, until abruptly everything stopped.

And she felt like being in a corporeal state once again.

A hoarse gasp echoes in the deadly silent living room, and the vampire laying on the couch blinks her eyes open.

The tangy taste of blood still lingers on her tongue, a blood she immediately recognizes - centuries weren't able to delete that particular memory from her brain - and instinct tells her immediately when the spell has taken her.

It was the chosen moment - before everything started going downhill for him, and for her too.

She turns her head, slowly, barely allowing herself to hope - and there he is, sitting on the leather lounge-chair next to the window, the warm glow of the lamp casting morbid shadows upon his stony face.

He looks angrier and more dangerous than she remembers - or maybe time had simply allowed her to grasp a bette understanding of him to the point of noticing even the smallest of his expressions - even so, she couldn't be happier.

Before she has fully made up her mind - she should probably evaluate the situation, come up with a plan, try not to fuck up too much the timeline as the witches had repeatedly reminded her, but those thoughts come a second too late - she's already up and across the room, a knot closing her throat as she tries not to cry, and --

-- in his arms.

((It doesn't feel real to touch him, hold him, feel his breath against her cheek after all this time. It would be a lie to say that her every waking moment was spent thinking of him, yet there was always something - a word, an object, a place - that made the memory of him go off in her mind, feeding her longing, alimenting her obsession. Exacerbating the void left by his absence. And the feeling of their last kiss still seared in her brain, the bittersweet taste of a goodbye that they weren't supposed to say.

He had promised her an eternity, but was gone long before that started. It wasn't fair - he wasn't supposed to die, not after everything.

She had lived missing what they never were.))

Klaus is not privy to the whirlwind going on inside her mind - he simply found himself holding the trembling bundle of a distressed vampire before he had the time to blink her back into focus. His ancient instinct works faster than his mind, and his hand circles around her throat in a manner both harsh and delicate.

Yet, despite the grief and the rage still cursing through his veins, his voice is surprisingly soft when he calls her name, confused and wary. "Caroline…?"

Her hands hold on tighter on the lapels of his jacket, and a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh comes from her lips.

"It worked," she murmurs, finally backing away to look him in the eyes. "God, it worked! You're alive."

That's when he notices it.

There is something different in the depth of her eyes, something that wasn't there only a few hours earlier - a weariness, a harshness that belonged more on one of his siblings rather than someone like Caroline - and it gives him pause, forcing to assess her, for the first time in a long while, as a potential enemy.

She doesn't look bothered by his hand around her throat, as if she trusts him, implicitly, not to overly harm her. Which is strange, considering that he bit her no less than twenty-four hours ago for much less than a potential physical threat.

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202 note - Postate 8 giugno 2022

#3

canta Rkomi

352 note - Postate 1 febbraio 2022

#2

Viserys' only issue against daemon and rhaenyra together is because they're too chaotic for their own good lmao. they have the same blood they are basically the same person they are RECKLESS and UNHINGED and every time they're in the same room together they exacerbate my ulcers--

poor man has no qualms about them being related he's just afraid they're gonna destroy the palace with their sexual energy or something

492 note - Postate 12 settembre 2022

Il mio post numero 1 del 2022

29.731 note - Postate 14 giugno 2022

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[tinypurpleparrot]

Annoyed that Storge in Malikah's Well doesn't drop his wings for Sages and instead we get some ugly wooden muskets.

[angharradhx]

tamlenx​:

Divinity shrouded them, the leaves of the Evergold forest providing a dense cove for the golden fountain in which Sune had bathed; it’s elegance stifling. Even death could not stifle the divinity which flowed from her, contained within this realm, her fiery tresses billowed around her, a lustrous flame that could not be dimmed nor stifled. The golden warmth of Laurelin wove into the scarlet tresses which adorned Sune’s head, it contrasted against the silver atop Tamlen’s, and though the realm was intricately beautiful, heralding ownership of it’s own wonders; it was Sune’s passion that bled out upon the realm, coating it in unalloyed splendor.

There was no need to obtain modesty in front of a goddess, but Tamlen remained reserved; as he’d done for the majority of the troupe’s missive. The summer warder was always boisterously confident, an ego as untamed as a splintering summer storm, but he’d allowed himself to be temperate; any reserve for the biting summer heat within. His hair was ruffled and an act that would normally irk Tamlen resonated, instead, with the fact that this was divinity touching down upon him and it should ultimately be cherished.

“Two and a half,” he affirmed with a soft grin, nodding, “Not a girlfriend, no, but I’ve no promises for anyone awaiting my safe return.” It’s not a lie, he’d told Raffaele not to wait for him, to grow old with festered longing. The summer warder had never been scalded by loneliness before but it burned within him now, a scouring affliction. Tamlen guiltily hoped that Raffaele would be awaiting his return with baited breath, after all; but it was a horrid weight to place upon another and it was why he’d told the witch to simply let him go.

Ardor bled from this goddess; pragma, storge, eros, philia, it swarmed them as they sat and she asked the simplest of questions. “I’d have never dreamed of my travels leading me here. You remind me so much of my Chancellor; the one I’ve sworn my life to protect.” It was vital for Tamlen to return, he’d not go tepid upon his promise; his passion was his wardership and though this troupe led him to places of pure magnificence, the Worldly would ensure his, and the others, safe return.

-

“Well, you can always stay,” Sune offered, “you’d be the first eladrin to stand among the people of Arvandor.” It would be interesting to see what would become of him, but for one who’d earned a moniker of the Worldly, Sune did not expect him to wish to stay. Not when he and his friends had travelled so far to save the realm they left behind. The so-called lost cause, Sune didn’t believe in such things, but quite naturally that was how she herself had died. “No doubt that would make you very popular at the Sun Court’s Annual Mass Copulation.”

BaHAHa! Came Sune’s laughter, shrill and carried through the breeze as she covered her mouth but failed to contain any of the mirth that flowed from it. “I was a patron to his family long, long ago. I’m happy to hear their emulation continues.” She waved a demure hand towards him as they continued to travel up the circumference of the great tree, wooden steps of gold and gilded light. Sune had so many questions she wanted to ask the other: did he plan on having any children? When was he planning on getting married? What was his favourite colour? Did he always wear so many clothes? She pulled a little at the thin fabric of her own chiton, it was just so cumbersome, nobody understood the trials and struggles of divinity.

“The Two Trees are the source of all elven immortality, that’s why Corellon will never permit us to leave.” Sune said at last, she hated giving anyone bad news, it really wasn’t in her nature. “It grieves me to tell you this, but you and your friends who’ve travelled so far and given so much will leave here without aid.” Bad news never tasted good no matter which palette it crossed, or what condition it happened to be in at the time. Still tonight all of Arvandor would attend to them, ensuring that they knew the great joys and delights of their elven paradise before they returned to the squalor they’d come from. Hopefully that inspired some to seek Arvandor out again, but Sune knew the nature of passion, and she knew that none among this troupe would choose to stay. Much to Corellon’s undoubted chagrin.

“I am a dead goddess, a patron of true love and passion. One of Queen Angharradh’s many Aspects.” Sune’s hand grazed the broad trunk as she ascended, “Laurelin,” she gestured to the silver Tree on the horizon, “and Telperion, so long as one of each stands all elven immortality remains, your immortality remains. Corellon believes these Two to be the last of them.” While one seed had already been defiled, it grew now in the heart of the enemy, another had been salvaged through the curiosities of time. Pilfered and rescued by an archdruid. “He’s wrong.”

[ettawritesnstudies]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks @sleepyowlwrites! These are from Storge Draft 2

knife

“It’s been a work in progress for a while now.”

“Since the wooden cat attempt?” Last year he’d tried to carve and animate a small wooden cat to fetch her things around the house. The project was complicated somewhat by the fact that Luca only had driftwood to work with, and animation was largely considered impossible by even the greatest Atilan scholars, but he did have a sharp knife and enthusiasm in abundance, and the many models of the cat occupied a place of honor in her collection.

knock

Acheran’s shop was in terrible shape. Instead of a trader’s tent, he owned a small permanent two-story building with a bottom floor made of packed clay and a sloped canopy over the flat roof which served as a workshop. A front window and wide counter faced the street under a small overhang for shade. Charms knocked off their display racks glinted amongst the common gravel of the road. Angry graffiti scrawled over the wall. Acheran alighted on the roof of the shop as they came closer, tucking his wings through the open side of the canopy. That space, unreachable and otherwise unharmed, smoldered with the remnant magic. Acheran snatched up a cloth and beat out the cinders

kneel

The ground smoothly fell out from underneath their feet as they swept higher into the sky at a diagonal, the cords carrying them over the docks, the river, and the cavern dropping under the floor of the gently rocking gondala. Grace practically hung over the edge to watch, but Acheran gently pulled her back to kneel on the benches and dangle her arms over the side. Luca gawked at the scale of it all. In minutes, they were carried a dozen stories high.

knack/know

“My father was a construction worker, and so when I reached the right age, he started bringing me along to be trained. He thought that since I liked working with my hands so much, I might take to the job. I learned a lot about the craft. I learned that I loved creating, that I had a knack for sculpture. And I learned that I hated the crowds and noise that come with the work. I stuck with it for a couple years, but soon I would have to commit to a proper trade, and I still didn’t know what I wanted to do."

“I think I was afraid of being forced into doing just one thing for the rest of my life. I saw Chara excelling at her studies, how she was going to change the world, the fire in her eyes when she talked about her dreams. I envied that she had something to work towards, and I didn’t. I wanted to change the world too, to not be forgotten in her shadow as much as I wanted to support her, but I didn’t know how. Too many different ideas called to me, and I couldn’t commit. I was lost. I spent a lot of time at the outlook.

keyboard (no computers in magical fantasy ancient egypt/greece adventure land, sorry)

kidnap.

“I’m right here!” There was a clattering of pebbles as the younger girl scampered up from the river bank.

Enne crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t wander off like that! Do you want to get kidnapped?”

Open Tag!

[dorkyungsoowrites]

Eros

Pairings: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff | Jane Austen AU

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Description: Ancient Greeks insist that there are eight different kinds of love, each given a name that holds special meaning…Eros: passionate love.

A/N: Requested by someone whose name is lost to the ether (I’m sorry I hope you find this. I remember it was “Kyungsoo x Reader by a lake plus neck kisses”), and inspired by a post @monicaexol​ made here. Also because you seemed excited, @j-pping​.

| Storge | Eros | ?

There is strict protocol for how a lady's morning is carried out. There is fairly strict--but not as strongly enforced--protocol for her schedule the rest of the day on most occasions afterward. And there are supremely stringent rules to educate them with proper manners and etiquette, usually through classes. At last there are the most dangerous and exhilarating rules cultivated and given by society to every girl as she rises into a woman to prepare them for the rigors and wiles of men. One learns most of these by proxy. If one is blessed with a doting mother, or in fact perhaps sisters were the best teachers second only to the honest and civil conversation with a gentleman, one could be moderately informed of the absolute blunder that fondness breeds on first approach.

So was the path of all affairs before engagement. Gossip and whispers and rumors flew faster than a lark, and the bird that flew it there held the biggest sway in reputation. Promoting each attendant of a party at least a week before the occasion, with each household choosing their favorites. Particularly of the young men and women who were eligible for their matchmaker gambling. Encouraging men to dance with particular women to line their pockets with pride.

That was how most couples met. It was how you met your sweetheart. Your family tittered about the gentleman that had come to visit the hosts of the future soiree for the summer. Japing about his reputation for being curt and austere. In truth you had been intrigued by the tales of his character for it seemed that you should not wholly trust the word of the birds alone.

It was most wise to hold back judgment for when you arrived at the gathering, for you were afflicted in the heart the moment of introduction. Mesmerized by his dark, severe eyes; striking you immobile with but a moments gaze. The memory was as clear as glass in your mind. The shape of his eyes, the intelligence and intensity in his irises, the way your breath tightened as your bosom inflamed. Longing, lusting, light-headed. You'd never seen such eyes.

So were the eyes you sought out a month after the party. The morning had been much the same as any other; your handmaiden helped you dress. First was your shift; a plain cotton garment you often slept in. Then the simple clocked stockings, secured with ribbon garter at the knee. A petticoat was necessary for warmth and modesty. Then the stay was laced around your torso with a wooden busk center front for posture support and to keep the figure once the dress went on. Next were pockets which you enjoyed stashing trinkets in to take to your secret affairs. After a hip pad was added, the outer layers could go on. A petticoat, a white neckerchief that was tucked into the front of the stay to protect your neck and chest from the sun, and the actual gown. As the off-white material was laced at the front you gazed down at the pattern on your long sleeves. Little blue flowers were speckled everywhere, and you lamented the season of falling, an autumn's blush in the trees and on your cheeks. Lastly was the silk apron to separate you from the workers of the household, and shoes with little silver buckles. All together the outfit was quite hardy, and you were able to slink away after lunch past the garden and through a narrow wood to a lake.

It was often as a child your siblings would swim during the sweltering summers there. It was well secluded from prying eyes and ears, but the waters were far too chilled that time of year. The stillness reflected the trees encompassing the grounds, and in the center, the purest blue called out for your heart to shine with it; luminescent and alluring. Letting your mind wander. It was in those moments that the voice that had been torturing your thoughts smiled behind you.

"Would I offend you, if I were to admit how long a time I've watched you?"

A grin stretched your lips, turning to see him approach. A hand was lowering the hat from his head, allowing the short, silken ebony locks to shine under the brightness of noon. The black and white suit he wore was proper, however devoid of accessories it was. And he had dained to switch the regular coat for something of thicker cloth and longer gait, the hem brushing his calves. It was a navy hue, highlighting the horrifically vivid and ethereal glow to his tawny complexion. Your heart could not be tamed at his approach just as the ocean would never cease to reach for the shore.

"Instead I would offer a warning," you replied. "For you shouldn't stare at the sun too long."

The hat was discarded, forgotten on the grass as saltwater embraced the sand and tarried. A wry smirk twisted his lips as his eyes focused on yours. Always intense and enchanting, and the light reflecting enhanced the color within, the sun swimming among his whiskey irises. Intent on getting you drunk.

"Then let beauty blind me and allow my last sight to be of everything that is precious. You are the sun and stars. You are the mountains, and the fields, and rivers and lakes. Always to be cherished. Never to be violated. Only to be loved...vigorously."

Words which you had never thought would ever leave a mouth as pretty as his, let alone become a bastion for fondness; his lips tender on your neck after his stark proclamation. Air became a rare commodity, catching in your throat. The bawdy action sent ripples of excitement through your body, and you clutched him closer. The indecentness would serve as a warning but for the sentiment in his heart.

Their families had made different matches for one another before the night you met; smarter matches they would tell. It only revealed their ignorance on the subject of affection. For if there was never a coupling such as yours for the next century, then not another couple would suffer as greatly in a century if you were parted.

The pressures of high society had been choking him and you. The birds, and the parties, and loquacious old women so sapped of their own vitality in their dull lives as to make interfering with others' their sole hobby. There never seemed to be a caring hand; someone who didn't only seek the ends. Get married; nevermind the adventure in courtship. Nevermind reveling in the company of a kind intellect. Nevermind celebrating the magnificence of life steeped in wonder while laying entwined in soul, spirit and body. Nevermind love.

He was of a mind to yearn for conversation and contented silence with a partner. To stroll away and earn peace and happiness without a crowd or extraneous clothes and property. You wished the same, and in the space between, your passions collided; coalescing into something greater. Being wanted solely and completely as yourselves, you may be able to break through that foul and ugly mist that had strangled you both.

"Shall I never tire of your winsome character," you elated.

A gust of wind dusted your cheeks with chill and fluttered your skirts. His mouth stole another taste of your skin before pulling back to greet your gaze once more, inadvertently shielding you from the cold. You were acquainted with a mien he intimated was rendered by you unwittingly; warm and soft with a smile that could raze even the strongest of wills.

"The days after our meeting," he said. "I spent walking through gardens hoping they would drive away the heavy thought of care, and perhaps it worked as such for I am here, with you now...without a care in my heart but for you." Your mouth opened, but his words carried on before you could reply. "Despite what our respective relatives might assume, this hasn't been some summer dalliance for me, and as I know I must return home before we are beset upon by winter, I know I would be leaving my heart here with it. Therefore, with all my soul and self bared vulnerable, I would disclose one more thought...nothing would make me happier than to escort you home alongside me as my betrothed."

"Is...this a proposal?"

"With an answer that is yours to give as you please."

The lake's reflection rippled under the wind. He lifted a hand to your face and it betrayed his calm; trembling as fingers fondled stray locks of hair and moved them aside. Tumultuous tenderness as his drunken eyes studied every heartbeat.

To leave all you knew to venture with all you wanted to know. Rational thoughts absconded from your mind. To pretend you required to rationalize this at all was folly. You knew the answer, and when your love collided with his in a kiss, he did too.

[voidsentprinces]

TIL that almost all of Lightwarden boss’s attacks are named in connection to them. Lightwarden Philia has bosses whose attacks are named after forms of punishment or a device for public humiliation. Probably the various devices Philia saw or was inflicted upon during their life before becoming a Lightwarden.

Forgiven Dissonance: Pillory Brazen Bull Gibbet Cage Thumbscrew Wooden Horse

Tesleen: The Tickler Scold’s Bridle Fevered Flagellation Exorcism

Lightwarden Philia: Pendulum Knout Scavenger’s Daughter

Everything about the Dancing Plague and Titania is in connection to fae in some manner. The Dancing Plague itself was a sort of mania that clench a region of Europe. Where those thought to be not religious or upstanding enough in the community. Believed they were being forced to dance, sometime to death. Then of course magic, Sabbath and of course, Peaseblossom, Mustardseed, and Puck are all characters from a Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Lozalt and Batsquatch could be said to be fusions of various aspects of their environment like Lightwarden Eros. In that Lozalt is the combination of the Ronkan lore and mythology. While the Batsquatch is hybrid monster similar to Eros.

Lightwarden Storge continues the Philia theme of having some attacks named after torture devices like Heretic’s Fork, Intestinal Crank, and the Breaking Wheel while maintaining the magic element of Titania in the form of Crystal Nail. Keeping with the theme of Philia seems to explain why though we first met Forgiven Dissonance and Tesleen in Amh Arang, they carried the same torture themes as Philia.

Then of course the theme of Vauthry or Innocence in judgement, religious, righteousness, and acts of seeking forgiveness like Penance.

Forgiven Cruelty has Lumen Infinitum or Eternal Light, Forgiven Whimsy in indicating Vauthry’s childness in his initial appearance and when he was given the bless of a lightwarden by Emet-Selch. But also Cathechism, Penance, Judgment Day, Exegesis. Still sticking by my Warbler being Forgiven Obscenity due to its attacks being named after song and movements to a musical piece in Orison Fortissimo, Divine Diminuendo, Conviction Marcato, Penance Pianissimo, and Sacrament Sforzando respectively. Lightwarden Innocence himself keeping with the theme of zealotry, religious text, and meaning in various forms.

[yanara126-writing]

Storge (Family Love)

Edér gets to meet his niece and has a heart to heart with Francesca.

-

Read here or on Ao3 (2412 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

-

It was nice sunny afternoon, all the necessary jobs were taken care of for the day, and Francesca sat comfortably on the grass in her giant garden. Park really. With a content smile she watched the turbulent happenings before her. The air was filled with loud shrieks and giggles, some thumps and the occasional soft growl. It was a scene Francesca had never imagined, and even less imagined to enjoy. But somehow this was the happiest she’d ever been, nothing to do, nothing to take care of, not even really someone to share it with. Though that would admittedly change soon. Edér had never been one to waste time if there was the possibility of petting something soft. And Lupa was very soft.

Francesca grinned when Lupa once again caught Vela in their little game of tag, knocking the five-year-old over with a careful nudge in the back. Vela shrieked again and broke out into uncontrollable giggles when Lupa licked her cheek.

When she heard steps coming up behind her Francesca didn’t bother turning away from her daughter, she already knew who it was. The fresh grass crunched a little as the newcomer sat down next to her, stretching his feet and groaning gratefully as his joints cracked. Only then did Francesca look over to him, the smile not leaving her face as she watched her friend blissfully stretch.

They didn’t break the silence for a while, only watching the child and wolf play together, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. Edér was the first one to fill the silence, though he was more awkward about it than Francesca would have expected.

“So, a mum, ey?” Francesca snorted at his comment and laughed a little. They hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, this was the first time he’d met Vela as her daughter and she’d expected some questions, but it seemed the whole situation hadn’t sunk in for him quite yet.

“Yes, a mum,” she told him, a bit of her usual sarcasm bleeding into her voice as she turned to him. Edér nodded awkwardly, still watching the small orlan play excitedly with the much larger wolf.

“Never took you for the type,” he remarked, the question implied, and turned to her as well. This time Francesca laughed out loud. It was incredibly hilarious to her that he would speak such truth from her soul and didn’t even know it.

“Neither did I,” was what finally made it past her laughter, and she found Edér staring at her with a smile of his own.

“Then how come you went through the trouble of adopting this one?” Said one was currently attempting enthusiastically to ride Lupa, and though the wolf didn’t mind letting this strange, bipedal pup, she was also far too big for Vela to truly climb on, resulting in continues falls on her bum. That didn’t stop the valiant little orlan though and repeatedly tried, her little tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. “Can’t have been easy to convince them to hand her over.”

No, it truly hadn’t been. But the endless diplomatic talks had been easier to endure than the constant aching of not doing anything, not she knew how to explain that to Edér. Or anyone for that matter. Her smile faded a little, melancholy setting in as she remembered the sleepless nights spent in confusion over why she couldn’t stop thinking about that child she had seen only once for a minute.

Edér was still looking at her expectantly when she surfaced from the memory and she sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Edér, in fact Edér was probably one of the few people she would spill all her secrets to and not regret it, but that didn’t make organising her thoughts any easier.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“What, harder than the secrets of the gods?”

“Well, I suppose not,” she chuckled. “But it’s gonna be a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And from the looks of it, neither is she.” Francesca looked over to Vela and found her daughter, who had apparently given up on her endeavour for a wolf mount, now trying to teach Lupa tricks. The wolf however was playing dumb, just calmly looking on and intentionally doing the wrong trick, which Francesca knew, because these tricks had been among the first she had taught her companion. Shaking her head amusedly Francesca saw that she really wasn’t getting out of this.

Buying herself some time she leant back onto her hands, staring into the sky, debating where to start and burying her fingers into the soft earth.

“You know I’m from Old Vailia. I was born and raised there, but my father was a traveller from the White. That’s how I got my white hair.” To emphasize her point she picked a loose strand of hair and thoughtfully twirled it between her fingers. “My mum was a huntress, and a traveller as well, that’s how they met. They liked each other and decided to stick together for a while. But it didn’t turned out quite how they planned, since my mum got pregnant. They talked about it and then agreed to settle down for a while together. Not much later I was born.” The story felt wooden to her, impersonal after so many years away from her birth place. Not home anymore, home was here now, in her keep, with her daughter.

“They stayed in a small village, mum opened a butchery since she couldn’t really hunt anymore with me around. And then, two years later, my little sister was born. And mum died.” A sigh left her lips again before she could stop it. It didn’t hurt anymore, it had been a long time ago and she didn’t even remember her mother, but still she had never stopped quietly stopped asking herself what might have been. But it was pointless, both because it was over, and because in all likelihood she would’ve grown up with only one parent either way.

“I’m sorry.” Of course he was. Edér’s sincerity never failed to bring a smile to her face, so now as well.

“Don’t be. It is what it is.” She shrugged at him. It’s not like her mother’s death had been anyone’s fault. Death in childbirth was a risk every woman took when bearing a child, and her mother had known that. She cleared her throat and turned away again, continuing the story. “My mother’s loss was of course a blow for my father, but it also meant that now he couldn’t leave anymore, and I think that struck him even harder. He had a toddler and a new-born to take care of alone now and couldn’t just leave to travel or return home again. And Old Vailia was never home for him.”

Suddenly she realized just how the story sounded and quickly added: “Don’t get me wrong, he was never abusive, or even neglectful. I’m sure he loved me and my sister or he wouldn’t have cared enough to stay either way, but still I don’t think he ever quite forgave us for trapping him in a place so foreign to him.” Again she trailed off a little, remembering her father’s unhappiness that only ever showed when he thought they weren’t looking.

“As soon as I was old enough to hold a bow, he taught me how to hunt, skin an animal, all you need to survive on your own. I helped him bring in the meat to make the money we needed as soon as I could, and my sister apprenticed to a local seamstress. It wasn’t easy but we made do. When I came of age I left, so my father had one less mouth to feed. I became a mercenary. I might not be very good in close combat, but you might know that I make a pretty good scout.” She shot Edér a sly grin, wriggling her eyebrows a little. Her gave a smile in return, but didn’t answer, still waiting for her to finish the story. Fair enough.

“I sent home some money for a while. Father always wrote back to tell me it’d arrived, and then one day he wrote me that my sister had gotten married. A city boy, pretty rich from what he said, so my sister was provided for. That was the last letter he sent me. I stopped sending money then.”

“So you don’t know what happened to him?” Edér’s voice was coated with a strange mixture of disbelieve and empathy, and with a start Francesca was reminded of how desperately Edér had searched for answers about his brother. An unfamiliar feeling of shame rose in her, and she could only nod in agreement. “Well, what about you’re sister? Wouldn’t she know where he is.” Of course he had to ask. And she couldn’t deny him the answer, no matter how hot the same suddenly burnt. What would he think of her for it?

“I never asked her.” She mumbled the words under her breath, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear them. But he did, disbelief shaping his face so much, Francesca felt the need to justify herself, though she certainly didn’t want to. “I still write her, I know she’s alive and well taken care of, she has a son of her now.” Her nephew that she’d never met. “But we never write about father.”

He still didn’t understand, but it seemed he didn’t feel like trying anymore. “Okay, okay. So how does this relate to you adopting the little pipsqueak?” And wasn’t that the question of all questions. But she’d much rather debate this than spend anymore time on her father and she scrambled to find the proper words.

“I never… I never felt quite right in Old Vailia either. I was an outsider, a stranger to my own people.” Again her fingers found their way to her hair. She was fine with it now, even a little proud of it, but as an adolescent she had wished many times for her sister’s darker shade. “So Vela’s fate… struck cord with me. I’d never been one for love really, it had seemed such a silly concept growing up, and my surroundings were only proving me right, but this baby, Vela… I couldn’t forget about her. About a child as out of place with her people as I was, even if she didn’t know it yet.” And she hopefully never would. “I couldn’t sleep again for a while. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just move on. She wasn’t in danger anymore, her brother would take care of her, but still I couldn’t. And one day I just decided I couldn’t leave her there.” She looked back to Edér, her story essentially finished.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, only looking at each other and both just processing. Suddenly a loud yell of triumph shattered the moment and Francesca and Edér whirled around. What they found was Vela sitting on Lupa, having finally managed to climb on somehow. With one hand she was waving in their direction, euphoria more than visible on her face, with the other she pulled on the wolf’s fur to stay on, and Lupa patiently let her. Vela shrieked again when Lupa started walking over to them, slowly and carefully, but for the little orlan it was still the most adrenalin inducing ride she’d ever been on.

Francesca grinned broadly and got up, watching her daughter come closer, almost bouncing on the wolf’s back in excitement. Silently she promised Lupa an extra piece of meat tonight.

Once they were in reach, Francesca reached out and pulled Vela off her mount, throwing her into the air a little and catching her again, both laughing all the while.

“What a brave rider you are!” Vela giggled again, obviously still too full of adrenalin to do anything else. “But now I have someone to introduce to you.” Francesca turned around a little to put Edér into Vela’s field of vision and pressed her close. “Meet your uncle Edér. He was busy for the last year, but now he’s very excited to meet you.”

Edér blinked once, but then immediately complied, a broad grin splitting his face, even as Vela still seemed a bit unsure of the big man before her.

“Of course I am! I have to meet such a mighty warrior that has tamed this wild beast, right?” Vela grinned now as well, clearly fond of the flattery as she wildly nodded her head in agreement. Lupa on the other hand just snorted. She was more than used this human’s antics by now. “Would you perhaps let me pet you mighty steed, princess?” That made Vela a little insecure again, and she glanced up to Francesca, who gave her an encouraging nod. And so Vela looked to Edér again and gave him a very serious nod and permission to pet “her mighty steed.”

Said mighty steed had a different opinion though. As Edér bowed down a little to brush his hand over her fur, and sly glint, much like her master’s, appeared in her eyes, and before Francesca could warn him, Lupa had already leapt onto him, causing Edér to tumble to the ground, a giant wolf sitting on his chest.

“Good to see you again too, girl,” he coughed breathlessly, the considerable weight on his chest doing nothing to discourage him from petting the wolf. Francesca was laughing again, more than familiar with scenes like this already, but she stopped soon when she saw Vela’s face, who didn’t seem quite so amused at the situation. Not wanting to upset her daughter, she whistled for Lupa... who promptly ignored her, happily staying on the warm, silly human who thought he could tease her. Francesca whistled louder, with an insistent undertone impossible to overhear, and Lupa reluctantly got up again and trotted over.

The tense situation over, Vela seemed happier again, and Francesca decided to have a talk with her later just be sure. Edér pulled himself up from the ground, coughing once again, before happily saying: “Well that was a fluffy welcome!” Turning to Vela he added: “And thank you for your permission, princess!” which lifted her spirits even more.

The introductions made, and the sun slowly sinking over the horizon, they started to make their way back to the keep and towards dinner, laughter still hanging in the air behind them.

[dibidibikokothot]

Philia - Lucas

“True love, he figured, was a combination of all those. It was a desperation for a person so much more than you. A tender, lingering touch in the solitude of darkness. It was respect, comfort, familiarity“

words: 860

genre: romance ??? unrequited love

warnings: none

Frustration was the only word that could describe your current predicament at this moment in time. Frustration because the paper was still blank and you had to do something, anything, in order to get that mark. Times like these often caused you to lament on why you had picked fine arts. Perhaps it was the idea of freedom that gave the course such great allure, until the deadlines rolled in; and once again the charcoal weighed heavy in your hand.

Frustration because this task, you thought, was idiotic. How do you create an emotion you’ve never felt? It’s not like you can walk into the street and fall in love in a matter of seconds, but at this point in time you were willing to try anything. The sound of the door to your apartment opening snapped you out of your lamentation.

“I’m guessing it’s not going well.” Lucas’ voice was laced with sarcasm; he was violently aware of your situation.

“Don’t be an ass. Please.”

“Wow your saying please it must be bad.” A soft chuckle escaped him, signifying his lack of sympathy for your problem.

“It is that bad.”

“What is it even about.”

“Love.”

“Yikes. Isn’t that a bit … much?” He was right. It was a bit much. It was a task that required you to have felt said emotion, and just drawing your parents didn’t feel right, you didn’t think it was genuine enough. You wanted to draw something that you knew, but you’d never been in love. You were stuck.

“It is.” With hands clawing through your hair, you thumped onto the floor. A garbled scream left your throat as, once again, Lucas laughed. “You’re insufferable. I’m in misery here and you laugh? Cruel.”

“What? Didn’t we all warn you not to do this? Because of this precise thing?” A jeering lilt remained in his voice, head cocked to the side and eyes staring into yours. It was gazes like these between the two of you, heart pounding in your ears as you looked at him, that made you consider drawing him. He was the artists dream really. Sharp jawline and nose contrasted by his wide, childlike eyes, and soft lips that always twitched at the edges with a smile. He stood, arms reaching heaven-wards as a soft groan was pulled from his throat.

You stared at him as he walked to the kitchen. Broad shoulders framed by warm lights. Long, elegant fingers stretching over the edges of your wooden cabinetry.  The delicate ripple of muscle underneath the fabric of his shirt. “Aren’t there like four types of love?” He turned to face you, resting himself upon the marble counter-top. “I think the Greek’s said it. Maybe that's what you could do.” “What do you mean?”

“A picture for each type of love. Here, ‘agape, eros, philia, and storge’. They mean, godly love, erotic love, love between equals, and familial love.”

“What do you mean ‘love between equals’?”

“It means, like, between friends. When I say I love you, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I wanna marry you, it just means that I care for you. Isn’t that what love is? It’s just a way of saying you care about someone.”

“Have you considered being a philosopher?”

“Ha-ha very funny. Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I can’t be smart.”

“Fine then. Sit your butt down.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Pink dusted across your features as you looked into his eyes. Something seemed off about his gaze. It seemed as though a mix of emotions swam around his mind, and he struggled to drown them out. To keep control of his features. He sat in front of you, watching as your fingers slowly worked over the canvas. It was then that he realised he was drowning. Although, it was not a tsunami or a flood. It was more a steady drip of water which he had ignored for so long that his head was under before he knew it. His lungs burnt has he tried to breath. Realising he loved you was not a sudden moment. It was a long, drawn out process as he tried to grapple with his heart.

True love, he figured, was a combination of all those. It was a desperation for a person so much more than you. A tender, lingering touch in the solitude of darkness. It was respect, comfort, familiarity. He would be a blind fool not to see how you held all of those things. Yet he could not force you. He could not make you see him, his yearning heart and aching mind. How he treasured your tears, your smiles, your shrieks of laughter as you were caught in the pouring rain. And perhaps a love between equals could placate his bleeding heart. It was a thread of warmth he held as you proclaimed to never have been in love. And maybe, he could find a day when he could swim. Where he would no longer drown in you. And perhaps it would be you holding him aloft. Or maybe he would learn on his own. But for now he was content to drown.

[decorishing]

[gallery] Make sure this fitsby entering your model number. LIGHTED MIRROR WITH 3-COLORS SETTINGS & DIMMING: The vanity desk built-in a lighted mirror with 3 colors setting (warm/natural/cool) and adjustable brightness. You can adjust the brightness according the light condition. Just touch the button to change the lighting mode, and long press to adjust the brightness. The clear and super brightness will illuminate your makeup station and ensure makeup impeccable. You will get more comfortable experience to do makeup or hair. You will enjoy your beauty PLENTY OF STORGE PLACE: The white vanity desk comes with 7 drawers, 2 dividers and a makeup organizer. It offers enough space to store your cosmetics, makeup brushes, hair accessories, jewelry and much more. You will more like this vanity if you are a nail lover. You can organize your nail polish better with the DIY divider. Your space will be organized. And say goodbye to messy EXCELLENT DESIGN & PERFECT GIFT: Features with vintage knob, the vanity table looks elegant! The soft cushioned stool and lighted mirror brings much comfort. The vanity doesn’t take up much space. It is a nice piece of furniture for your room. The makeup vanity with lights is also a perfect gift for your love on birthday, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Christmas and other special days SOLID & STURDY MATERIAL: This white vanity made with E1 grade environmental MDF, solid wooden table & bench legs, foam with linen seat cover, EVA anti-slip mats EASY TO ASSEMBLE: Some simple assembly is required. You just need to assembly the vanity table according to the instructions step by step. It will not take you much time. Once assembled, it's sturdy enough and convenient. Size: 31.50"L x 15.75"W x 53.54"H [amz_corss_sell asin="B08XZ92H54"] https://www.decorishing.com/product/bewishome-vanity-set-with-lighted-mirror-makeup-vanity-with-lights-8-led-bulbs-with-3-colors-setting-dimming-touch-screen-switch-vanity-desk-with-7-drawers-stool-white-vanity-table-fst13w/?feed_id=26856&_unique_id=6265f3f2d0873

[mobiboxau]

Key Considerations of Choosing the Most Suitable Storage Facility

Want to choose an ideal storage facility for your belongings and free up some space at your home? Or simply planning to relocate to a new city and want to store some of the not-so-important items at some place safe? Our modern lifestyle has become quite more flexible with a number of convenient solutions. And one of such facilities are modern storage solutions which allow people to ensure safety and security of their belongings without worrying about the required space to store them at their homes or offices. Here in this blog, you will be able to get the most helpful tips for choosing a well-equipped and affordable storage in Sydney which, is near to your home or office.

First – be specific of your needs

Often at times, you fail to choose an ideal storage facility because of being unsure of our own needs and requirements. So, before you make any preference, you should always be sure of your own items which, you want store and specify the needs accordingly. Storage facilities are available in a range of designs and sizes. Hence, you must list down the items which you are planning to store such as paperwork, moving boxes, furniture, appliances, antiques and heirlooms, automobiles, and other items. Once you’ve been able to figure out what you want to store, you can list down the requirements accordingly.

Climate-controlled feature

Certain items always require a well-controlled temperature setting which, will help you to maintain the temperature at certain parameters while controlling the humidity levels as well. For example, any kind of antique wooden furniture might split or crack in dry climates whereas, in humid environment, they might get affected by mould and mildew.

Location

Next, you should always focus on the location of the storage facility. If you’re planning to store some of the items which, you will need often, then it is always beneficial to choose a storage facility near to your home or office so that you can have quick access to your items as and when required. On the contrary, storge facilities located at the heart of the city might cost you more. So, if you have budget restraints, then you can consider the options located at the city’s outskirts so that you can cut down on the expenses.

Size

Large storage units are expensive compared to short storage units. Hence, you should be always clear of the amount of items you need to store and choose the rightly sized storage units so that you don’t spend your money unnecessarily.

The final word

All these above-mentioned points are important to consider as without having the right knowledge, you would surely end up choosing an inappropriate storage facility. While looking for affordable storage in Sydney, you should also ensure that you’ve sufficient time for doing research on the various moving and storage companies located nearby such that you can evaluate their services and pricing thoroughly. This in turn, will ultimately help you to make the right decision on picking the most convenient storage units thereby, ensuring proper safety of your belongings.

[habitatecolifestyle]

Building a solar shower

www.habitatecolifestyle.com

Building an outdoor solar shower

There are many reasons why you would someone would wish to build an outdoor solar shower, for me it was living next to the beach, and my love of outdoor pursuits that involved getting covered in what nature had to offer, often sand, or mud, combined with the desire to lead a more sustainable lifestyle and not to bring dirt into the house and be nagged by the misses. Building one was easier than expected and was a great addition to clean the dog as well. Below are the steps I took to make a great addition to my home.

Location

The first step is to find somewhere slightly exclusive since you don’t want to be giving the neighbors a show every time you strip down outside. This can be dealt with by erecting fencing around your shower with a simple door on. For most use this opportunity to get closer to nature or face the shower so you can experience great views whilst using your shower.

Design

For this you can make it as simple, rustic, or elegant and flash as you wish. This all depends on the purpose of the shower, your budget and how you personally wish the shower to look. I have gone somewhere in the middle of the range. I brought 90% of the materials from new but you can salvage and swap out materials as you see fit. I went for standard wooden garden fencing panels in a square shape, 3 full panels and the font is a wooden slatted garden door. All treated with wood varnish and 4 wooden posts, one on each corner cemented into the floor. For the base I just cleared and dug down 30cm and laid a concrete base with a slight angel to allow water to run off into a small drain. From the drain in a small pipe taking the water away down hill to a water container which I then recycle to water the plants with.

Solar thermal

I simply a black water tank, connected to 6 black water pipes that hold and circulate the cold water through them to warm it up. AS the pipes absorb the heat from the sun and warm the water in the pipes then the water goes into a holding tank which is isolated. There are many different designs online but think of mine as an extension to my garden hose. The water comes to the shower from the garden hose cold, gets heated up as it goes through the pipes and then goes into a storge tank ready to use.

Shower system

From the tank to the shower system its essentially the same as the shower in your home. Copper piping attached to your desired shower head. The only difference there is no hot or cold tap its just what mother nature has supplied that day. I just use a simple on/off valve and being gravity fed, more I open the tap faster the water comes out.

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[pretty-pauline]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Keepsake Storge Box Wood Laser Cut 5x3.

[unsung-heroesofmobius]

Verse: Sonic with Star Wars Influence Date: 7/8/2018 Full Name: Jerard Kal Pronunciation: (Jeh-rahr Kah-l) Nickname/Alias: Jerard, J Meaning: Jerard was a name he gave himself, but his sur name, Kal, means knife, and it’s the name of his clan Origin: I liked the way Gerard sounded but I wanted to use a different letter. Title: Self-Proclaimed Warlord of Mandalore Pet Name: N/A ID Number: N/A Signature: A bit of a messy scrawl. He doesn’t practice writing much so it’s hard to understand sometimes. Gender: Male Gender Role: Masculine Orientation: Demisexual Real Age: (Biologically 45, Mentally 82, Chronologically 15,000+ due to stasis) Age Appearance: Older hedgehog but physically fit and healthy, albeit shorter than most.  Birthday: 41 BBY Deathday: N/A Birthplace: Corellia Astrological Sign: N/A Zodiac Sign: N/A Immediate Family: Somrad Kal (Adoptive Father), Dux Magnum (Friend/Brother), Deix Kal (Adopted Son), Alreidz Kal (Adopted Son) Distant Family: Nareen Magnum, H’Racca, Fate, Suzz Parenting: In the Jedi Temple, it was rather cold and distant. When he joined his adoptive father’s family, he was a very warm, jovial person who was considerate and paid very close attention to Jerard’s needs. Upbringing: Honor, Glory, Integrity, and Compassion were above and beyond the greatest tenants that he was raised with, putting great value in family and loyalty to his word. Infancy: Jerard had a very basic neutral infancy, being taught basics in Jedi Daycare. Childhood: Jerard struggled with his emotional spontaneity in an environment that preached control and discipline, making his childhood very difficult for him as he clashed with the doctrines of the Jedi.  Adolescence: It was around this time he ran away from the order to find his own place in the galaxy, finding the Mandalorian people and quickly finding his place among them as his emotions and desires matched extraordinarily well with their values and ethics. These were some of the happiest times of his life. Adulthood: Jerard developed as a leader after his father died, taking up the mantle of leader of the clan and leading them into various wars across the decades, going through emotional highs and lows where he truly developed as a person, suffering as much loss as he did victory. He grew harder, but he never grew cold to those around him. Coming of Age: When Order 66 was executed, the person he loved was slaughtered in front of him, forcing him to confront an even harsher galaxy than he could imagine, growing harsh, distant, and depressed for years, lashing out until being defeated by Darth Vader and realizing how foolish he’d been to dwell on his loss rather than mourn and move on. Evolution: He grew up from a brash young boy to a cunning young man, analyzing situations with more scrutiny and approaching answers from different angles. However, he is not used to mundane life and cannot stay still for too long. Settling down is a challenge for him. Species: Formerly Human, now Mobian Hedgehog Ethnicity: Corellian, Mandalorian Blood Type: O+ Preferred Hand: Ambidextrous Facial Type: Rectangular formerly, now round Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Blonde Hairstyle: Plain short brush back Skin Tone: Fair peach Complexion: Pale and rough Makeup: N/A Body Type: Mesomorph Build: Well-toned muscular arms and legs, not focused on weight training. Height: Formerly 5′2″, now 3′0″ Weight: Formerly 194lbs., now 82lbs. Cup Size: N/A Facial Hair: N/A Shoe Size: 10 Birthmarks/scars: Scars littering his torso from body blows during training, duels, and desperate battles for survival. Distinguishing Features: His hair has two grey stripes going from his forehead to the neck, becoming more prominent as he grew older. Health: Very Healthy Energy: High Energy Memory: Excellent Memory focused on friends, family, and war stories. Senses: Better sense of hearing than any other senses naturally. Allergies: N/A Handicaps: No normal handicaps. Muted Force Sensitivity due to experimentation. Not as strong as it used to be. Medication: N/A Phobias: Loss of Family, Organic Weaponry, Cults and Zealous Religions, Feeling Helpless. Addictions: Alcohol Mental Disorders: N/A Style: Simple casual, leather jacket. Mode of Dress: Tucked in but loose Grooming: Messy and dirty Posture: Proud and straight Gait: Even pace and proud normally. Can fake other gaits if needed. Coordination: Athletic and quick, good reflexes. Habits and Mannerisms: Crosses arms often whenever thinking, tilts head forward and to the right slightly. Raises eyebrow whenever he hears something interesting or concerning. Scent: Slight smell of soot and sweat. Usually a weak scent. Mood: Jovial Attitude: Cocky and open, normally friendly Stability: Low stability. Fakes good stability to assure others he is ok despite not being ok. Expressiveness: Expresses Joy openly. Anger and sadness are hidden. When Happy: Boisterous laughter When Depressed: Isolates himself and stay away from others. When Angry: Grits teeth, some glares, possibly isolates self or, if very angry, attacks the aggressor. Note: These are generalizations. Different situations will create different reactions. Current Residence: Small two bedroom domed home. Community: Kind and open community. Very friendly. Family: Volt (Brother), Speedy (Brother-in-Law), Harmony (Niece), Atlas (Nephew) @projectlightfox​ @needf0rspeed​ Friends: Zapper (Astromech and Friend) Enemies: Ultimate (Archnemesis), Ixis Serena (Witch) Bosses: King Elias Followers: Geoffrey St. John Heroes: His father Rivals: N/A Relates to: Volt @projectlightfox​, Hark @keepinganimmortalworld​ Pets/Familiars: N/A Wardrobe: White shirts, khaki shorts, and a leather jacket, or his armor (temperature suit, armor plates, gauntlets, sports shoes, and helmet) Equipment: Disintegrator Pistol, lightsaber, specially forged iron sword, explosives, emp grenades, medical supplies, maps, communicator, and food stuffs. Accessories: N/A Trinkets: Holoprojector with images of his family Funds: 900,000 Rings Home: Simple round domed house with a living room that is open to the kitchen, messy sectional with a wooden coffee table and two windows. Kitchen has marble tops and wooden cabinets with steel sink, oven, stove, and refrigerator. Rooms are simple with wooden nightstands and basic cotton bedsheets. Both have a single window. Neighborhood: Passive friendly people, very open and calm with newcomers. Transportation: Walking for the most part, speeder bike, or jetpack License Plate Number: N/A Collections: N/A Most valuable possession: His armor, not only is it sentimental, it’s impervious to most weaponry on the planet, skyrocketing its value. Prized Possession: His Armor. It’s as important to him culturally as it is sentimental. Lovers: Skalaya (Human Crush/First Love, Now deceased) Marital Status: Single Sex Life: Low to N/A Type: Storge/Agape Turn-Ons: He’s not sure himself, but he appreciates someone who cares for him and he cares for them. Nothing physical. All based on an emotional connection. Turn Offs: Signs of toxicity, disloyalty, infidelity. Position: Switch Plays: N/A Fetishes: N/A Virginity: N/A Element: Earth Occupation: Private Contractor, Blacksmith Work Ethnic: Very Strong Work Ethic. Works hard to get job done well and fast. Rank: N/A Income: Varies depending on work. Usually 10,000 Rings per job. Wealth Status: Upper but lives Middle/Low Experience: Mercenary Work, Blacksmithing, Farming Organizations/Affiliations: Republic of Acorn/Freedom Fighters IQ: 115 Education: Strong Education in various technical fields, such as mechanics, combat, mathematics, tactical skills, and history and culture. School: Formerly Boarding School-like, then Homeschooled Grade: N/A, Pass/Fail System Special Education: Often Fell behind in early school due to lack of understanding of concepts. Social Stereotype: Punk Degrees: N/A Intelligence: Intrapersonal, Linguistic, and Logical Extracurricular Activities: Hunting Religion: None/Mandalorian Culture (Not sure if it should be called Religion or not) Morals: Values Honor, Glory, Integrity, and Family above all else. Killing is ok so long as it is not done in violation of your word. Most crimes are not considered morally wrong in and of themselves as long as the end goal is nobel. Crime Record: If the law exists outside of Mandalorian Culture, it was probably broken in one way or another. Amnesty granted due to previous war record in favor of the New Republic. Motivation: Love, Family, and Glory Priorities: Family First above all else. Philosophy: Justice must triumph over evil and tyranny by any means necessary. Political Party: Liberal-Moderate Etiquette: Normally informal, but will act properly in formal settings due to experience. Culture: Mandalorian culture has many different aspects that value practicality over ceremony. Marriage can be done in a private setting between two people when they speak a specific phrase to each other, and adoption is equally simple. Family is given priority and therefore, the formation of family is streamlined. Funerals are also short and simple, normally consisting of a daily remembrance of the dead rather than a formal ceremony.  Influences: It takes a very powerful and respectable person or a grand event to cause Jerard to change in some way or another. Relates to: He relates to Volt due to their shared history of being experimented on. Traditions: Jerard carries all of his Mandalorian traditions with him, from the food to the way he conducts himself and his work ethic. Superstitions: N/A Main Goal: To live a good life with family and to find his place in the world. Minor Goals/Ambitions: Getting rid of Ultimate and doing a good job as a Freedom Fighter. Career: Mercenary Desires: Family, love, and to explore this new galaxy. Wishlist: Some more beskar to forge. (Likely impossible, so he’ll settle for gems.) Accomplishments: He got a family and he’s a mercenary. Greatest Achievement: Helping to win the Yuuzhan Vong War, and going Super to beat down Dark Gaia. Biggest Failure: Failing to save Skalaya. Secrets: Most of the more unsavory things he’s done in the past. He doesn’t let others know what he’s done. Regrets: Accepting jobs that led to the death of innocent people. Worries: He worries about losing who he is, so he holds on even tighter to his past. Best Dream: Being able to have both his families live together happily. Worst Nightmare: Losing everything (Has happened) Best Memories: Teaching and training his kids and the next generation. Worst Memories: Losing control of himself in his emotions, nearly hurting those around him in his rampages. Hobbies/Interests: Hunting and smithing Skills/Talents: Swordsman, Marksman, Tactician Likes: Food, partying, playing, camping, fighting Dislikes: Liars, cowards, awkward silences, zealots Sense of Humor: Gallows and Dad humour Pet Peeves: When someone stutters too often. Superstitions/Beliefs: No Superstitious beliefs. If you live like a good Mandalorian, when you die, your spirit goes to the Mandokarla. Dreams/Nightmares: More nightmares than anything, regarding loss and death. Quirks: He likes to put his feet on furniture. Always seems to have a wry smile at some point. Savvy: Mechanically savvy. Can't understand: Taking away someone’s ability to choose. Closet Hobby: Carving Guilty Pleasure: Those fun little cartoon shows they show on the TV. Strengths: Calm under pressure, determined Flaws: Too Proud, Stubborn, Blunt Perception: It can be cold but there’s always something worth finding. Conflicts: He’s alone in the world, and his culture clashes with everyone else’s on the planet, making it difficult for him to fit in. Instincts: Exploration and action. Lures: Fighting Soft Spot: Kids Cruel Streak: When someone hurts kids, friends, or family. He gets very violent when these happen. Powers/Abilities: Enhanced senses and reflexes, minor electrical prowess, empathic abilities, minor telekinesis. Origin: Born with them Source: Considering the nature of the power, all he needs to do is focus, but it requires more focus for more intensive powers. Ability: He’s trained to improve specific powers more than learning many, so he is more adept at the powers he does normally use, but is very poor at trying new ones. Weaknesses: Using these powers require a certain amount of focus, so breaking his focus will keep him at a normal individual’s level. Immunities: N/A Restrictions: Must Train to maintain or improve these powers. Alternate Forms: Nothing he can do on his own. Extra Anatomy: N/A Favorite Colors: Gold Favorite Animals: Strill Favorite Mythological Creatures: Hydra Favorite Places: Mandalore Favorite Landmarks: Mt. Stormtop Favorite Flavors: Pineapple Favorite Foods: Pizza Favorite Drinks: Ti’haar Favorite Characters: He’s liking that Duo Maxwell character from the TV. Favorite Genre: Action-Adventure Favorite Books: Detective/Mystery Favorite Movies:  Action Blockbusters Favorite Games: Character Action Games Favorite Shows: Action or Comedy Favorite Music: Rock, all the Rocks of all kinds. Favorite Bands: Queen, Iron Maiden, Guns and Roses Favorite Songs: His World by Zebrahead, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns and Roses, Enter Sandman by Metallica Favorite Sports: Football Soccer, Rugby, Hockey, Wrestling, Boxing, MMA, Judo, Karate, Tae Kwon Do, Baseball Favorite Stores: BEARS (Mobian Sears) Favorite Subjects: History, Science, Math Favorite Numbers: 4 Favorite Websites: N/A Favorite Words: Osik, Shebs, Dikut Favorite Quotations: Ke Nu Jurkadir shaa Mando’ade. (Don’t mess with Mandalorians) Least Favorite Colors: Lavender  Least Favorite Animals: Ants Least Favorite Mythological Creatures: Cyclops Least Favorite Places: Senates Least Favorite Landmarks: Statues to fake heroes Least Favorite Flavors: Tobacco Least Favorite Foods: Black Licorice Least Favorite Drinks: Sambuca Least Favorite Characters: Trieze Marquis Least Favorite Genre: Romantic Drama Least Favorite Books: Romance Novels Least Favorite Movies: Chick Flicks Least Favorite Games: Bad games Least Favorite Shows: Reality TV Least Favorite Music: Reggaeton  Least Favorite Bands: Justin Beaver Least Favorite Songs: Baby by Justin Beaver Least Favorite Sports: Tennis Least Favorite Stores: Victorian’s Secret Least Favorite Subjects: Home Ec Least Favorite Numbers: 3 Least Favorite Websites: N/A Least Favorite Words: Eggman Least Favorite Quotations: “You have to crack a few eggs to make an omelete.” Languages: Basic(English), Mandalorian, Corellian, Huttese, German Accent: American Voice: Even Pitched, errs towards lower pitch sometimes Speech Impediments: N/A Greetings and Farewells: “Su’Cuy Gar!” State of Mind: "I’m doin’ Fine.” Compliment: "Lookin healthy as ever.” Insult: “Your face looks like an ass.” Expletive: “OSIK!” Laughter: A Loud boisterous laugh. Tag Line: “Well-” Signature Quote: “Today’s a good day for someone else to die.” Reputation: Not much, he’s not really in the public eye. First Impressions: Odd, quirky, insane. Stranger Impressions: An absolute nutcase. Friendly Impressions: A Friendly nutcase. Enemy Impressions: Don’t fuck with this nutcase. Familiar Impressions: We love him, but he’s a nutcase. Compliments: He’s a heroic nutcase. Insults: He’s an ass, and a nut. Self-Impression: I’mma boss. MBTI Personality Type: ENFP-A Temperament: Sanguine  Enneagram: The Challenger Ego/Superego/Id: Id The Self: The Warrior The Shadow: Selfishness The Anima/Animus: Sophia Persona/Mask: Fortune Role: Rival Fulfillment: Well Significance: He’s had a great impact on current world events. Alignment: Chaotic Good Comparison: Spartan/Viking Symbol: Knife Song: Bad Luck Charm Vice: Pride Virtue: Diligence Defining Moment: When he made the choice to join the Rebel Alliance and become part of something far bigger than just his clan leader. Tropes: He can be stereotypically hot-headed more often than not, getting into fights or confrontations with ease. Originality: His value on family and fatherhood sets him apart from most mercenaries, warlords, or bounty hunters. He is not a lone wolf and hates to be alone too long. One Word: Determined Character Sheet © Character-Resource