Loki protecting Jane. (◡‿◡✿)

Late Victorian or Early Edwardian Etruscan Revival Gold Necklace with Gold Coins of Philip II & Alexander III the Great (359-323 BC)

Ten Gold staters and one gold distater mounted in a late Victorian or Edwardian Etruscan Revival gold necklace. Likely crafted in Greece or Cyprus circa 1870-1910, the necklace contains a central gold distater of Alexander (Price 163) which may be a cast replica (without removal from mount it’s hard to be certain). All of the remaining 10 gold staters, nine of Alexander and one of Philip II, appear to be quite genuine, conditions ranging from a rough fine (the Philip, also holed) to nearly extremely fine. Among them are three dated issues of Sidon (one of 325-324 BC [Price 3486] and two of 324-323 BC [Price 3490]); four of Amphipolis (Price 176 [2], 172 and 168), and a couple in which the mintmark is obscured by the mounting bezel. Coins are set in ornate openwork 14 k gold frames joined by delicate chains in a golden cascade, interspersed with numerous florate pendants set with small pearls; a heart-shaped central drop pendant set with six tiny pearls completes the ensemble. Total weight: 170.03 gm.

Reportedly from the collections of General H. L. Haughton, a British officer in service in India circa 1890-1930, and of Sir Ronald Storrs, British Governor-General of Cyprus 1926-1932. Sold for $28,750.

nope. sorry but i literally did nothing wrong here. i did nothing except point out that that person’s post had big issues with it. i did not personally insult them, i did not harass them, i merely criticized and expressed my distate for the argument they posed. i accepted their apology as well.

you can call me a toxic monster and a bully all you want, but i’m not going to put up with that kind of emotional manipulation, nor will i be held responsible for whatever actions they choose to take.

i said my part, and i dont regret anything i said, and it’s done. goodbye

sofia looked across the table at her now fiance, her arms were crossed as she looked at the male. she wasn’t happy in the least bit to be engaged to him, the princess had tried to express to her grandmother and her mother her distate in the idea but here she was with her future husband. “just to be clear, i’m not happy about this.” sofi said.

deceitfulhag asked:

dunga didn't say sabella was a drug addict he was talking 2 some guy in the argentine stands that ACCORDING TO HIM was trying to cause trouble. the thing didn't have anything 2 do with Sabella (It's distateful anyway.) Also Ronaldinho and Adriano had a lot of disciplinary problems around 10, I think even the most rabid fan of them agrees with that decision. IIRC he didn't rly say manly he just said it was "not adequated" to cry that hard during the anthem. bro's a blowhard but fair is fair

Right, talking to some guy in the Argentine stands. Right.
“Disciplinary problems” sounds a lot like “I wouldn’t have allowed these players to dye their hair while they were with the national team.” (about WC 2014) or “Either you wear a Brazil hat, or you don’t wear a hat at all.” (about Neymar’s caps)
I truly don’t care what his reasoning was, it is insane to drop your best player before World Cup and if someone genuinely agrees with that decision, well, good fucking luck with that.
As for “not adequated”  he is quoted saying “A scene of tears is wrong in the world of football. Maybe it’s sexist, but men don’t cry.
Guess what, it is indeed sexist and I won’t stand for any of it, thank you very much.

Princes//poem by me

She wanted to be daddys princess
But he wanted a king
He wanted a strong boy not
A stupid girl
So she tried to be the strong king he wanted
then when he got his wish and the king was born he grew distate to the
Young girl.
He hurt her and broke her crown and
Now she sits outside pondering and reminds herself she can still be a princess but her own.


I resisted Margaret Atwood for so long. Besides reading The Edible Woman in university, I encountered Oryx and Crake but put it down in distate - I’ve never been one for speculative fiction.

But then I read Ray Bradbury and realised that sci-fi etc can be wonderful - as long as the author is a magical genius.

So I read The Handmaid’s Tale over the weekend, and my jaw was open the whole time and I loved the poetry and the pace and all the unfamiliar but familiar depictions of sex and power.

Here is my Goodreads review:

Lady Atwood, I bow down to you.

Whoever you are.

Is it ridiculous that I might be doing things currently because I want to build up this person I envision to be? This cramming late-morning, more of early-noon, in between my brain closely beating with my heart and panicking hands, neuropsychology bouncing all over my neurons, my coffee full of rebellious distate for the wrong time being drank, I decided it is not. I know, I’m a psychology major, and there are hundreds of theories about THE ‘ideal self’. But not ever, not even close enough to score the highest, hit the bullseye.
In contrast to what might everybody be expecting of me trying to overly think of and love myself, I choose to deviate, or perhaps I am just of odd species. And God help me, I have never even thought of myself as highly as Mr. K. West, I have not even made the greatest metaphor that I see myself in.
Whenever people ask,”So how do you see myself 20 years from now?”, I get confused, which quickly develops into a great annoyance, and then World War III commences. I mean, how could I ever see myself a few years from now if, in the first and hardest place, I can’t even see myself clearly now? It divirginizes my mind in a whole new level. But don’t get me wrong, of course, in between lines and circles, I understand myself. I understand myself completely. It’s in my mind, I can predict myself more often than usual.
But this person I want to be. I might know he is not—that he is not highly, either, he is not boastful, he is not dreadful, he is not lonely, he is not sad—but I can’t find ways to see who he really is. And while I don’t find it ridiculous to doing things in building up this someone I strongly want (and mostly unsteadily mysterious), I find it bluntly rude, to be wanted yet as much as this, but not being known. I am unrequited just yet again.