the silver vase


▪The Bryant Vase.
Designer: Designed by James Horton Whitehouse (1833–1902)
Manufacturer: Manufactured by Tiffany & Co. (1837–present)
Decorator: Chased by Eugene J. Soligny (1832–1901)
Designer: Medallions by Augustus Saint-Gaudens (American, Dublin 1848–1907 Cornish, New Hampshire)
Date: 1875–76
Place of origin: Made in New York, New York, United States
Culture: American
Medium: Silver

Willem van Aelst - Flowers in a Silver Vase


oil on canvas

Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco

Owned - End

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

Now it was surreal. This was to be your child’s room. A child. His child.

You saw it in his eyes, how much he loved this baby already. The excitement in your heart seemed to explode every moment you met his eyes.

“I can’t.” You but your lips nervously, hand shaking and looking at him for help.

He smiled and it was perfect, that moment. He put his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, pushing the door open and watching for your reaction.

You gasped and felt speechless.

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Inktober Day 5
Tea Time with Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara

Ornate Table and Edibles thanks to Diamond Tiara’s fam, Exquisite Silverware and Tea Set thanks to Silver Spoon’s fam! Quite regal…
I really want them to have more talking roles in the next season. We haven’t had much from them since Season 5!


Yoshinori for the Maruki Compnay

A silver vase for flower arrangements
Meiji (1868-1912) or Taisho (1912-1926) era, circa 1900-1920, Japan.
Designed as a chrysanthemum, chiseled and hammered on the surface and finished with a gilt wash, the foot decorated with chrysanthemum scrolls in flush-inlaid colored enamels, the interior fitted with a removable pierced liner for holding flower stems, signed on the underside with a chiseled signature Yoshinori, and with the mark of the Maruki Company, the foot stamped Jungin (Pure silver); with the original fitted wood stand
With a wood storage box
11in (27.9cm) diameter; 5 3/4in (14.6cm) high.  Japan.

A Song Called You.

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader (One Shot)

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The last two years with Kyungsoo have been like a dream. He has plans to make things a reality.

A/N: I wrote this entire fic listening to nothing but “For Life” on repeat. You should too.

Originally posted by luzdelunas

The soft sounds of your favorite song tickle your resting ears. You can feel the rays of the waking sun gently palming your cheeks, but you refuse to move. You’re too comfortable, too content at this moment. One of many, lately. A smile unconsciously awakens upon your face and you dive into the sentiment, allowing your face to rub into the lusciously plump pillow below you. You shift your legs slightly, tired from last nights events.

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Shabbos - Tina and Queenie Goldstein (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them)

They stopped going to shul a year after their parents died.

It wasn’t something they talked about, either of them. It was just easier, in a way, to avoid the sympathy and the pity. They did what they were expected to at first. They sat shiva. Tina said the Mourner’s Kaddish for eleven months. Queenie said it too, even when she was back at Ilvermorny without her shul around her, waking up early before her roommates to sit at the window, looking out at the changing seasons across Mount Greylock as she composed a kavanah, then whispered the words of the prayer, feeling them catch in her throat.

The rabbi came at first, and Queenie watched from the kitchen as Tina met him in the parlor, poured him coffee, let him tell her that God worked in ways humans can’t always understand.

Queenie could always tell by the set of Tina’s shoulders that she wanted to argue but was too polite. And so she smiled and nodded, and eventually the rabbi stopped coming. It was almost a relief just to let it be both of them. Finally. Together, lost in their grief.

And then one Friday, nearly two years after their parents died, a week after Queenie came home from school for the summer, Tina walked over to the china cabinet in the corner of the dining room and took out the candlesticks their mother had kept polished and shining. They were a bit tarnished, but it only took a flick of Tina’s wand to make them gleam in the late afternoon sun. She set them on the table, the way Mama had every week, and Queenie had dug in the drawer for the candles, thick and short, handing them to Tina. Neither of them said a word, but Queenie stood next to Tina the way they both had flanked their mother every Shabbos they’d been home. She watched as Tina lit the candles, drawing the light to her three times with her hands, then they both covered their eyes as Tina sang the ancient blessing the way their mother always had.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam…

A quiet stillness settled over Queenie, and for the first time in months she felt as if she could breathe again. The tight pain in her chest loosened, broke free. The tears came again, hot and raw, making her shoulders shake, and her sister turned to her, pulled her close, held her, her own face pressed into Queenie’s dress. For a moment, Queenie almost thought she could feel her mother beside them, arms wrapped around both of her girls.

They mark each Shabbos now, the way their mother taught them, with candles and wine and a thick loaf of challah that Queenie bakes the day before. Queenie cooks the meal before sundown, setting the table, pouring the wine, and when Tina comes home from the Aurors, she hangs up her coat on the hooks in the hall and takes out the candlesticks from the china cabinet in the corner. A photograph of their parents sits beside the silver vase that their mother had loved so much, white roses spilling out over the rim.

If Queenie listens carefully enough, she can almost hear her mother sing along with them as the candles spark to life.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam…

And she feels at peace.