#lampe a poser

[nedgis]

Jeu Concours :  gagnez la belle lampe à poser Neotenic Griotte de Petite Friture !

A l’occasion de la Saint Valentin, participez à notre nouveau jeu concours en collaboration avec la maison française Petite Friture et tentez de remporter la très belle lampe à poser Neotenic de coloris griotte ! L’histoire de la maison Petite Friture… Depuis sa fondation en 2009 par Amélie du Passage, Petite Friture incarne l’audace et l’élégance dans le monde du design. Guidée par une passion…

[nedgis]

Jeu concours Oluce : remportez l'emblématique lampe à poser Atollo en laiton brossé !

L’histoire de la célèbre maison italienne Oluce… Fondée en 1945 par Giuseppe Ostuni, Oluce fait partie des plus anciennes et prestigieuses maisons d’édition italiennes. L’histoire d’Oluce est étroitement liée à l’évolution du design italien au cours des décennies. Au fil des années, la marque a collaboré avec de nombreux designers renommés sur la scène internationale tels que Vittoriano Vigano,…

[crazyclau]

Library - Farmhouse Living Room Large country enclosed medium tone wood floor living room library photo with white walls, no fireplace and no tv

[delight-hsia]

Teen Paris Kids' room - large contemporary gender-neutral medium tone wood floor kids' room idea with white walls

[omarkeller]

Children Paris Large trendy girl in a kids' room with gray walls and a medium-toned wood floor and beige carpet.

[newmas]

Open in Paris Large trendy open concept family room library photo with white walls

[demasiadasmalasideas]

Library - Farmhouse Living Room Large country enclosed medium tone wood floor living room library photo with white walls, no fireplace and no tv

[thisistennis]

Contemporary Living Room - Living Room Living room: Small contemporary formal living room idea with ceramic tile flooring, white walls, no fireplace, and no television

[yeahkrystal]

Family Room Home Bar Inspiration for a large, contemporary, open-concept family room renovation with a bar, dark walls, no fireplace, and no television

[izzrd]

Contemporary Living Room - Living Room Example of a large trendy open concept dark wood floor living room library design with white walls, no fireplace and no tv

[nedgis]

Calendrier de l’avent Nedgis : tentez de remporter l’élégante lampe à poser Levels par LEDs C4 !

Le mois de décembre est là, et avec lui notre calendrier de l’avent spécial Nedgis ! A cette occasion, et pour notre premier jeu concours de Noël, nous collaborons avec la maison espagnole LED’s C4 pour vous offrir l’opportunité de remporter la magnifique lampe à poser Levels ! Une pièce majestueuse qui, grâce à son design sophistiqué, peut transformer immédiatement une ambiance… LED’s C4 :…

[bloody-vampire-lolita]

Library Paris Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary open concept medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room library remodel with white walls, no fireplace and a tv stand

[lecter-starling]

Marseille Library Living Room

[the-orange-solace]

When I was a child, I watched an episode of Criminal Minds where a man had a split personality. A woman who killed other women who threatened the man she formed to protect. I remember her sitting in the dark on a couch, a cigarette in hand beside a lamp, as she spoke to an Agent about why she had to kill them, that it was to protect him. It was her entire purpose for existing.

As a child, I used to pace empty halls in the middle of the night and lay in bed, repeating in my mind that I would be the only being in my body. I will not break into multiple people. I will be in control. I have to be because, at the time, I believed I could break into those monstrous plurals you see on TV. The ones that killed their family after years of neglect, abuse, and wrongdoing. The ones you should be afraid of ever becoming, no matter who you are or your situation.

So I became terrified.

And yet, nearly every night, I'd look up at the sky or the ceiling and beg for something to change—to not be alone. I was stuck pretending I was a different character, a type of escapism that sometimes got out of hand, lost in an identity that wasn't my own. Looking up and imagining being taken away, every character I adored was by my side, caring for me in return. I had to keep going, be them, and exist in a world with them.

I'd made up stories, different realities, and places in my mind to escape to, as well as explanations for things my underdeveloped brain couldn't comprehend in the place I found myself within. I clung to concepts, characters, and situations that reflected my own, and soon, I no longer felt alone—not with all the escapism I conjured up, not with the different identities to help me face what was happening.

But I was in control. I was one being. No matter what. I had to be a single being because that was good. I had to be good.

I would never hurt anyone, and being many meant being bad. I couldn't be bad.

When I was a teenager, I started researching and getting involved in minority and disabled spaces. I loved being informed, the stories, the many perspectives, and the complexity of humanity. So it was no surprise when I shared a plural headcanon with a friend, and they felt safe coming out to me. They were many. They took my hand and guided me through a community I was fascinated with and wanted to aid and represent like so many others.

I spent years learning, staying silent as others spoke, just listening to everything I could. But then, one day, like so many others, I spoke through a different facet, a different identity I had created as a child. The many faces of me represented things I could not be, I could not hold, nor could I handle. I was struggling; some of me wanted to lash out. So she did. She lashed out.

As always, I was faced with kindness, listening ears, and aid that then pushed me more to the surface from drowning. But I never left; just another part of me was lost, right? Of course. People are complex. I deal with my emotions in a complex way. Of course.

My plurally disabled friend watched as I became more comfortable speaking through the identities I had, whether they were facets of myself or characters that helped me. Soon enough, the continuous "role-play" and "emotional processing" developed into normal conversation, a comfort, a relief.

They kindly approached me and asked if I was a system, too. They had never met anyone who spoke to themselves like I do, definitely not any singlets. None of our other friends did, in person or not, not even people in our families. It was just us.

The fear from my childhood arose. I couldn't be multiple; I couldn't be more than one. It was bad. But hadn't I learned about Plurality? All its ups and downs? Its complexities and nuances? I accepted it wholeheartedly; I learned and evolved from the demonized perception I was given as a child. So, why was it still bad?

Because I must be lying; I must be a fake, a poser. It was the only reason, wasn't it? I had seen so many conversations and arguments about fakes, those who wished to be special. Had I somehow become the harm they spoke of? How could I do this to a community I swore to listen to and fight for?

I obsessed over it, forcing the panic, dissociation, habit, and ease of speaking in multiple identities and beings of myself away. I buried it as deep as I could for the betterment of everyone else. The community didn't deserve such harm, and I wouldn't bring it to their doorstep if I claimed it to be something I'm not.

The loathing became so present it formed into tics that caused aches and disruptions in my life. Multiple stressors--along with an identity crisis--will do that to someone. So my shoulder and neck muscles ached from shrugging, flexing, and all the repetitive movements I couldn't stop without crying from the suppression. So I didn't. I let it disrupt and hurt.

Then, one day, someone, some random, unknown system to me out in the world, spoke about how it didn't matter what was real or not; it didn't hurt anyone. Plurality and the belief of it didn't hurt anyone. It hurt no one to discover themselves, to test the waters, to simply pry into yourself and learn. There was no shame in figuring yourself, or yourselves, out. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be ashamed of or fearful of. Just another part of living.

So I did. I poked and prodded. I gave my parts names, spoke to them in the middle of the night, asked questions, got to know them, and learned we couldn't talk through words at first but could emotions and sensations. I realized I couldn't find where my Plurality started or where it ended, that we—oh god, we—the idea was so surreal but...comforting—were so combined, living without specific individuality outside of me that there was no separation in sight. Not that I could figure out. For so long, I believed everything was just me. Only me.

But now it was someone else, too. These things that made no sense, these things that felt out of place or special, unique, and ever-changing could be someone else.

Someone else.

The more I reflected, learned, applied, and prodded, the more things made sense. Until one day, I looked at my friends, held my breath, and spoke. Stated that it like it was a sin for me of all people to say.

I was plural.

No one blinked an eye. No one questioned it outside of boundaries and clarification. It wasn't surprising that their childhood friend was many. How surprising could it be when they used so many different names for different parts of themselves to express hard things?

It was astonishing.

And here we are, years and years later, grown and still learning, living, fighting, but more in touch with ourselves than ever before with so many more sys friends and aquatints. More experiences, a better understanding.

It's not shameful to learn, apply, and reflect. You take nothing from anyone but your time and open-minded exploration of the world and yourself(ves). There is no evil in being human, living life, phase or not. There is nothing wrong with you, any of you, for existing or living. You just are. I embrace you, I embrace us, and I embrace everything that comes with a life of many.

So, if you're struggling, just know you're not alone outside the body. We know, and so do many others. It's going to be okay; you'll find yourself in time. Don't rush it. There will always be time.

[stampsthemeow]

CRP AU STUFF

their rooms :3

Characters included; Jeff the killer, Twilight (OC), Ticci toby, EJ, Ben, Sally, Brian, Tim, Missing (OC), Alex, Jay, Dale (OC), Halo (OC), Zach (OC), Nina

Jeff the killer; Upstairs, MESSY, dawg does not clean up. who needs laundry baskets when you got the floor !! Bed upper left corner (he only got a bedframe so he could shove shit under his bed), dresser besides it (covered in pill bottles and monsters), desk in bottom left corner. Lights almost always off, shitty band posters on his walls (most have tears on them) Window covered up with blackout curtains. Door is painted pink (prank done by Ben and Toby that never got painted over), Walls are painted black

he and twilight have a connecting bathroom (door on right wall for jeff, left wall for twil)

Twilight; upstairs, little messy, no where near as bad as jeffs room, its mostly just old drawings on the ground. Bed also upper left corner, has closet on left wall, large desk in upper right corner, main light almost always off, but unlike jeff she got lamps and window (on back wall). Most of the glass that used to be in the window is broke. thin flowy curtains. Beige walls (she never painted over them) multiple shelves with little trinkets and items. Floor is covered in paint/hair dye

Toby; downstairs in the proxy area (they got their own little zone so they dont gotta deal with the others + so they can get to slender's office faster) Messy, but in a its just cool decor way, brown walls, Bed is upper right corner (under his bed is used for storage), Has a big closet on the left side of his room, main light isnt used much but he has alot of lamps/smaller lights, fan always on, window on back wall with a cool patterned curtain he found, he has tons of posters and has stolen road signs just to add to his walls, a few plants (somehow alive), He has a box full of CDs and vinyls he's been meaning to display (some are on shelves but alot are still in boxes cause he is lazy) multiple small tables/ shelves to store cool shit he finds.

EJ; Downstairs, clean, dark blue painted walls, bed in upper left corner (why do all these fuckers have bed left wall), has wardrobe against right wall, no window, lights always off (broken), Has LED lights, though when on they are set to blue and only blue. One of the few people to have a tv in their room (attached to front wall), has bookshelf in room (how he read if no eyes and dark ???), has a shelf full of rocks & crystals (gifted to him by toby)

Ben; Basement, dirty, stupid child, no bed, couch, against back wall, Tv on front wall ontop of his dresser, Zelda posers (that have been drawn over to make link into Ben) all over his walls, a bunch of different consoles + their games sit ontop of his dresser aswell, main light on alot, but when off LED lights on. idk what else to say about him.

Sally; downstairs, Pink vertical stripped walls, clean-ish, Bed in upper right corner, big low table in the middle of her room (for tea partys), Window on back wall + pink patterned curtains. dresser on the end of her bed, small (whats meant to be a bookcase) used to store her tea party supplies (and a few books) Kitchen play set in the lower left of her room, Big dollhouse pressed against window, alot of stuffed animals and drawings/drawing supplies scattered in the room. Big light almost always on.

Brian/Tim/Missing (they share a room);, Downstairs in proxy area, clean, beige walls, big bed in lower right corner w/ bedside table on the left, closet is on the right wall, one of those long L shaped desks on the left wall, Missing's stupid stuff is all just stored upper left corner (hes okay with all it just being there so they dont do anything about it), window with black curtains on the back wall ,not much going on in their room tbh,

them and Jay/Alex have a connecting bathroom (door on left wall for Brim+Missing, Door on right wall for Alex and Jay)

Alex/Jay (they share a room cause there was only the one room remaining in the proxy area)(the only reason why there is a room left is cause Tim and Brian used to have diff rooms); Downstairs in the proxy area, clean-ish, beige walls, Two beds on opposite sides of the room, dressers on ends of the beds, Jays half of the room is messier, (he too busy eeping to clean), Alex surprising keeps his half clean. Theyve been meaning to buy shit to actually decorate their room but theres only 1 car, and Tim is like the only one with a vaild drivers license (everyone else is legally dead or just doesnt have one). Jay and Alex are still very iffy with eachother but L to them gotta share a room. Jay likes it dark so alex just has lamps, Window is covered with thick curtains (but not blackout)

Dale/Halo/zach ; Downstairs in the proxy area (they are not proxys, why the fuck are they here) Clean-ish, Gray walls, bed in middle of front wall, window with seating area thingy :3 (zach likes sleeping on the seating thingy), Bathroom connected on right wall, Closet on right wall, mutiple boxes full stuff related to dales special interests, desk at upper left corner

NON MANSION CRPS;

Nina; Lives in an small apartment like right outside of Slenderwoods, lives on 5th floor, messy, stuff all over, bathroom has so many bows just chilling there (+ covered in hair dye), shitty gray carpet, without her landlords permission he painted her walls purple, some fandom + band posters on her walls, has stolen some of the slender pages to hang on her walls. Bed on the middle of left wall, with her dresser on the head of the bed + a beanbag chair at the end of her bed, stickers & plushies everywhere.

Corrupt- Corrupt dimension, she just kinda sleeps wherever tf she wants so i havent made a specific bedroom for her

Jane/Mary, they live in a big, old, house, very cool gothic house, idk about their bedroom tho they just live in a coolass house

Clockwork/liu/anyone else i didnt mention- I dont fucking know i havent planned it out yet (clockwork lives in the same apartment complex as Nina, Liu lives far away from the mansion, everything else idk)

[veinspill]

Chapter 1 - Gothic & Emotional

(AN: This series was originally a spoof of "my immortal," an infamous work of fanfiction. It has since grown into an original work as a satire of the themes present within "my immortal." fangs for the support!)

Another day. My blinds filter the light of the sun completely out, and the wallpaper is a dismal black. A vase of withered roses, having been hand-painted black, lies beside my antidepressants atop my nightstand. Another day rising out of my coffin, which in contrast to much of my room, is a vibrant shade of pink, equipped with speakers constantly playing through music. I turn to the totally retro lava lamp beside me, and with a flip of the switch, the room dimly illuminates.

It is mostly black. If it already wasn't obvious, I'm gothic and emotional, and my room is an extension of that - there are overhead, red lights which accentuate my gothic features, occasionally flickering to remind any guests of the labyrinthian darkness dwelling deep within my recesses. A few of my many, many friends have misinterpreted their meaning, often saying something along the lines of "red LED lights, huh?" It is frustrating to have your artistic vision be lost so consistently, and doubly frustrating when they're frequently right!

I'm realizing I should introduce myself - I'm Ra'zorblayde D, short for Darkroom, Veinspill. I am a total fucking hottie, and unlike many other goths, I don't shy away from non-black colors, with my signature corset being a comparatively bright shade of pink, and my skirt being an equally bright green. With pallid skin, pointed ears and fangs, I'm a vampire. I'm also a witch, with a retrofitted vibrator as a wand. I'm also a siren, but those days are largely behind me.

The fishnet shirt I wear was once an actual fishing net - amidst some rocks at sea, I once sang MCR to grizzled old sailors to lure them in, but they were posers and did not recognize any of my melodies. It was embarrassing! Almost as embarrassing as the harpoonist who attempted to spear me on the rocks, mid-chorus. Upon seeing a harpoon shooting towards me, I acted quickly, catching the spear between my middle fingers. I shrieked at them, telling them all to fuck off with the volume of a banshee, but they were unrelenting. In a last ditch effort, they threw a net at me. I will admit, they must've had some experience on the water, as when it made contact with me, I became fully, shibari-tied in the sailors' net. I had been tied like this before, of course, but never in this context! Upon the rocks, I felt the desolation of every plastic-ridden sea turtle, and I could practically feel myself choking on a straw. I brooded for a moment, sulking, brooding, eventually shedding inky tears as my more kraken-like ancestors had in an effort to deter them.

No matter my efforts, they steeled in their resolve, and had finally drawn the boat ashore. As the anchor made a thundering contact with the rocks below me, I grew hopeless. I had been the end of many people I'd come across in the sea - from grizzled sea captains persistently referring to me as a "white whale" (harsh, in retrospect), to lovers who had been separated by icebergs and small rafts, to dude-bro mermen who should have known better. I would have understood if, in this moment, I finally met my comeuppance for those encounters, and mulled over a few potential last words.

I soon realized I had been panicking, remembering the far scarier battles I'd overcome. Using my empathabilities, I channeled the destitution of the creatures who'd met their undoing through plastics, and as my inky tears collided with the net, I felt its fabric begin to contort and twist into... a sickass fishnet shirt! Now equipped with the stylish breathability of the net, I channeled my newfound energy into my middle fingers. With the harpoon, I wound my arms into a decisive throw. Yelling out "fangs for the memories, even if they weren't so great!" as I returned the harpoon, I heard it thunder through the air, crackling into, and eventually skewering the sailors. They toppled to the floor of their vessel, and frustratingly, were off-beat to my singing in doing so.