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#location: the-metropolitan-museum-of-art
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Charles Ethan Porter (1847-1923) "Untitled (Cracked Watermelon)" (c. 1890) Oil on canvas Located in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York, United States
Porter was among the first African American artists to exhibit his work nationally and the only one to specialize in still lifes. The painting's subject—originally an African gourd brought to the New World by seventeenth-century Spaniards and cultivated by colonists—is significant. Porter chose to paint a watermelon, an earlier symbol of American abundance—and during the Civil War period one particularly associated with free Blacks—when it was increasingly defined by virulent stereotyping. By reclaiming the subject in artistic terms, Porter challenged a contemporary racist trope.
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dailyoverview · 4 months
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Lyon is the third largest city in France, with about 2.3 million people living in its metropolitan area. Situated at the convergence of the Rhône and Saône Rivers, it is considered the birthplace of cinema—pioneered by the Lumière brothers here in 1895—as well as a major culinary center. In the center of the city, located between the rivers, is Place Bellecour, a tree-lined public square with flower stalls, a small art museum and a seasonal ice rink.
45.757934°, 4.764910°
Source imagery: Maxar
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blueiskewl · 7 months
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Archaeologists Unearth Ancient Mosaic of Winged Medusa in Spain
The stunningly preserved Ancient Roman mosaic floor was found at the Huerta de Otero site in the city of Mérida.
In both ancient and modern interpretations, Medusa is often known as a monster — a Gorgon with tresses of serpents whose stare turned men to stone. This version typically appears in children’s movies and fantasy thrillers, but her image hasn’t always been so awe-inspiring. In late June, archaeologists in Western Spain uncovered an Ancient Roman mosaic floor that depicts Medusa with tiny wings and flowing locks of hair, thought to have been used as a protective symbol.
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The mosaic was found in the city of Mérida’s Huerta de Otero archaeological site. Ancient Romans established a colony there in 25 BCE named Augusta Emerita. Traces of its former inhabitants — including an amphitheater and a bridge — can be found throughout the modern-day city. “[The site] is of an exceptional nature due to the level of conservation of the ruins and, above all, the ornamental elements that decorate the well-preserved house: not only the mosaic of the Medusa but also paintings and sculptural motifs,” said archaeologist Félix Palma in a statement.
The Huerta de Otero location was excavated in 1976 but lay untouched for decades. Research picked back up in 2019, when the city employed professional archaeologists and students from its Barraeca II Professional School to explore the ruins. Since then, the team has uncovered an Ancient Roman defensive wall, a road, and the home of a wealthy family.
The Medusa mosaic adorned the floor of this home. Depictions of fish, peacocks, and carefully tessellated patterns surround the artwork’s central figure: a human-like Medusa, her gaze turned to one side.
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Although this image diverges from some contemporary renditions of the mythological figure, the mosaic’s winged version was common in Ancient portrayals of Medusa. While early Greek depictions of the mortal-turned-monster, cruelly punished for being raped by the god Poseidon, show her as grotesque, Medusa’s image softened by the time of the Ancient Romans. Beginning in the Classical Greek period, her face acquired more human attributes. It started to be rendered with symmetry and youthful beauty in the following centuries.
Other Ancient Roman mosaics featuring the head of Medusa have been discovered throughout Spain. Medusa again comprises the focal point of an Ancient Roman mosaic in a 115–150 CE work found in Rome, where she can be seen sporting human curls and a snake around her neck. A 1st-to-2nd-century ornament from a chariot pole shows a young woman with curly locks (although a couple of snakes still peer through her tangle of hair).
In Ancient Greek mythology, Perseus killed Medusa to avoid being turned to stone. Medusa, in her early terrifying form, was used as a protective symbol — “an image of evil to repel evil,” Madeleine Glennon writes in a 2017 essay for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The goddess Athena famously included a representation of Medusa’s severed head on her protective cloak or aegis. In Ancient Rome, her beautified image was still employed as a protective symbol, although the depiction shifted into a form more similar to a woman than a monster.
By Elaine Velie.
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egypt-museum · 3 months
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This trio of statues of goddess Sekhmet are located in the Sackler Wing of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sekhmet was an Egyptian goddess of healing and war.
Brandon Falls Photography
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wardenparker · 3 months
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Vampire Waltz - ch 14
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Cute and cocky Max, the triumphant return of Cutie the Bat, so much fluff, dancing as foreplay, discussions of sex. Summary: An unexpected invitation yields surprising revelations, and Max has some help in planning a night that neither of you will ever forget. Notes: This week enjoy a colorized photo of Cornelius Vanderbilt II and wife Alice's palatial primary residence at 5th and 57th in Manhattan. Sold in the late 1920s, the mansion was later demolished and the current Bergdorf Goodman's location built in its place. At the end of the chapter I've added in a black and white photo of the house's ballroom, which makes a special appearance in this chapter!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13
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The entirety of the journey traveling from Newport to the Vanderbilt’s house on Fifth Avenue is far more tiring than you had anticipated, and when you walk in the front door of the grand mansion — with its palatial fireplace that you have only seen in photos from the Metropolitan Museum of Art — it suddenly makes a lot more sense why people talk about travel being such an undertaking in the past. You are, in point of fact, exhausted. And dirty, which is unexpected. The kicked up dust and dirt from train terminals, unpaved roads, and all manner of other frustrations has your wishing for a bath.
That will have to wait, though, as almost the moment you walk through the door Mrs. Vanderbilt is by your elbow with an envelope. “This arrived for you this morning, dear,” Alice tells you with an impressed smile. “It seems you have been summoned.” The look of confusion on your face must be particularly lustily unintelligent because Alice Vanderbilt’s smile softens into something maternal. “Mrs. William Astor has asked you to tea, I suspect. You must have made quite an impression on her at the Brown’s ball.”
“Oh!” The imposing woman in her fifties had made quite the impression on you, as well, and you carefully open the envelope that Alice has pressed into your hand. It is exactly as Alice predicted, and you look up at the grandfather clock in the hall. “Just a few hours…” you murmur, looking over at Max, Annie and Emmanuel with concern pursing your expression. “It…seems to only be addressed to me?”
“Because the invitation is just for you.” Alice hums, as if the answer is obvious. “Do not be alarmed, most often highly statured ladies like Mrs. Astor prefer their socializing in smaller circles.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “Less gossip that way.”
“I will do my best not to embarrass any of you with poor manners.” It’s an honor, in this time and this place. You know that. But that doesn’t mean you’re not seriously nervous.
“After watching you charm a ballroom, I would never dream of such a thing.” Alice waves away your concern. “Come. You must be exhausted by your journey. I will have some tea and refreshments sent to your rooms.”
While Annie and Emmanuel are shown to separate rooms on opposite ends of the long second-floor hallway, you and Max are let into a green-and-white decorated guest room on the third floor that sports one slightly larger bed. The footman who showed you the way leaves you with a bow and closes the door to give you privacy, leaving you standing with Max in the middle of the luxurious room.
“Swanky.” Max hums as he looks around the room. “I have to admit, there’s something missing in modern decor. It’s just not as…elegant.”
“I like that we have the whole newlyweds thing going for us,” you admit, looking around the room while you lean into his side. “They just assume we want to be close to each other. And they’re right.”
Max smiles smugly. “Of course you want to stay close to me.” He brags, winking at you playfully. “You want my body.”
“If you’re going to be cocky about it, I’m not going to tell you what I’ve been thinking.” Raising one eyebrow at him, you dearly wish you were in comfortable jeans and a sweater so you could just plop down on the mattress and stretch out. The traveling dress you have on definitely won’t permit that.
He eyes you wickedly and bites his lip. “Yeah?” He hums. “You don’t want to tell me that you’ve imagined me under that dress of yours? Tongue at work while you pretend to be prim and proper?”
“I’ve been imagining more than that.” It seems like every step you take with him only spurs you onto the next a little faster. Knowing that his tendency toward caretaking with you isn’t just a show or just to get in your pants means more than you can really say. Max loves you, fully and without ulterior motive. And you love him the same.
“Oh yeah?” He snags your waist, pulling you close and grinning as he pulls the bow around your waist loose. He’s teasing you, but he also knows you must be desperate to get out of your dress.
“Maybe.” Flustered and dreamy-eyed, you put your arms around his neck and let him hold you as close as he wants. “Are you really gonna get me all riled up before I have to go have tea with the Mrs. Astor?”
“Why don’t I relax you before you have tea with the Mrs. Astor?” He poses. “Make you cum while you clean up.”
“A very dirty way of getting clean.” You hum, tipping your head back to silently ask for a kiss. “And maybe…a preview to tonight?”
“My wife is greedy.” Max boasts happily. “Wanting to sleep with a tongue inside her.”
“I was thinking maybe…” You can’t help it, biting your lip to keep the grin blossoming across your face from getting too big. “Of a different part of you…”
“Fingers?” Max lifts a brow at you and grins when you shake your head. “Toe? I’ve never tried that before, to be honest.”
"I'm ready." You tell him, warmth in your cheeks and in your smile. "If you are."
“Are you sure?” Max asks seriously, reaching up and brushing his fingers over your pulse. “I don’t want you to rush because you think I’m impatient.”
"I'm sure." His sweetness is part of the reason, but you know he would deflect if you said so. "I love you, and I want to celebrate that."
“It will be good.” He promises sincerely. “Like you’ve never experienced before.”
“If it’s good then it definitely will be like I’ve never experienced before,” you joke, rolling your eyes in exaggeration to make him laugh. “Honestly love, please don’t feel any pressure. I just…I want to share this with you. That’s all.”
“I’ve felt plenty of pressure.” Max jokes, smirking at his innuendo. “But if you’re ready, the perfect place to make love to my wife for the first time, would be in the bed at the Vanderbilt’s mansion.”
“Time travel bragging right.” Every time he gets so proud to call you his wife it gives you a little shiver and you grin.
“And it’s not like we are breaking into a museum to do it.” He chuckles and turns you around to start unbuttoning the back of your traveling dress. “It will be quite the ‘feather in your cap’ as your grandfather likes to say.”
“And we’re even in the time where people actually wear feathers in their caps.” His nimble fingers are quick to undo the outer layer of your dress, pulling away the top to let you stretch a little more easily in just your corset cover and corset above what seems like miles of petticoats. Without those big sleeves it’s a lot easier to move.
Max snickers. “I’m just grateful we didn’t come to a time where wearing tights was fashionable.” He jokes.
“Why not?” You smirk at him over your shoulder. “You’ve got great legs.”
“Yeah, but it would leave nothing to the imagination, package wise.” He snorts.
“Those big ‘ol pantaloons they wore over the tights would.” It reminds you of a Shakespeare show you saw once, and the idea of Max back in that time scraping out thees and thous makes you giggle. “Maybe I’ll get the hang of this time traveling stuff and we’ll be time tourists. Who knows?”
He hums, knowing that you both can be time travelers in your own time as well, watching history unfold as you both remain ageless.
Max helps you out of your skirt, letting you shed all those extra pounds of beading and embroidery for a little while before you have to put on something suitable for Mrs. Astor. You have very little idea of what Renée packed but you’ll manage, just enjoying the freedom of lighter layers for now. Petticoats and a bustle don’t weigh too much, you’ve been surprised to find.
“Better?” Max loves the sight of you in the undergarments of the time, honestly playing into the time period movies that he had watched when he was younger. Sometimes hoping to get laid, but that one – Pride and Prejudice – that was just a guilty pleasure.
“It’s so hard to move in the full dresses.” Which is why you’re wiggling happily and stretching everywhere now that you have a little freedom. “At least we didn’t come back to the age of six-foot crinolines. You wouldn’t be able to get near me at all.”
“I don’t know what that is, but a crinoline sounds horrible.” He gives you a mock look of horror. “Don’t sent us there.”
“I promise.” He gets the giggle out of you that he was hoping for, and you turn to lean against him because you still have the bustle underneath your petticoats tied in place so you can’t just back up into his arms.
“How come the history books never talk about how dirty traveling is?” Max snorts, knowing that both of you need a bath.
“Because no one wants to read about horse shit and dust everywhere.” You laugh along with him. “I wish I had time for a bath but apparently travel by horse-drawn carriage takes foreeeeever.”
“You want to get clean, baby doll?” Max smirks. “I can clean you up real quick.”
“Speed bath?” You raise one eyebrow at him.
He chuckles. “Perks of moving fast, sweetums.” He had overheard the nickname on the dining car last night and had fallen in love with it, to tease you with, of course.
When you roll your eyes it’s entirely joking, but you cross your arms appraisingly and smirk. “Alright. Go for it.”
“Done, baby doll.” He snaps his fingers as if he were a magician, drawing your eyes away from the trick before he begins to move quickly.
When he wants to be, Max is a whirlwind. Before you know it your petticoats are strewn around the room and your corset seems to disappear in a flash, along with your chemise and stockings, all while you barely feel him touch you. The tornado of movement carries you so easily to the bathroom and within minutes you’re scrubbed clean and dry again.
When he stops moving, it’s obvious that Max has also cleaned up while taking care of your quick wash. Grinning and not even breathless as he eyes you. “Believe me now?”
“Baby,” you smirk, the expression rolling over your features with glee. “I never doubted you. I just wanted to see you show off.”
“Good.” He winks at you and shrugs. “Now you are all clean and can enjoy your visit with Mrs. Astor.”
“Wish me luck?” Walking over to the set of buttons built into the carved wood detailing of the guest room, you press the one marked to connect to you maid and sigh. You are definitely going to need Renee’s help picking out a dress.
“Of course.” Max snaps his fingers again. “I could come with you.” He offers with a coy grin.
“I don’t think the Mrs. Astor would take kindly to a bat in her house.” Though you grin broadly at the idea.
“I would make a fashionable hat accessory.” He huffs, miffed that you might deny him the opportunity.
“If you think you can hold still for an entire tea visit, I’ll take you with me.” It’s sweet of him to want to come with you, though you know it’s also because he’s an incorrigible gossip.
He tuts because he knows you’ve got him there. There’s no way he wouldn’t ruffle his wings or trill at you in his bat form. “She might like bats.” He grumbles.
“She might.” When he pouts you can’t help but kiss him, and your hand on his chest feels the thrilling thud of a single heartbeat as your lips brush his. “And if she does, I’ll bring you next time. If there ever is a next time.”
“Ooookaaaaayyy.” He rolls his eyes, playing up the pouring before he shrugs. “Tea sucks anyway. Kind of like me.” He jokes, waggling his brows. “Get it?”
“Har har har.” The exaggerated laughing noise makes both of you bust out into giggles just before a knock sounds at the door and Renee enters.
“You rang, Ma’am?” She asks politely, stock still in her own immaculate uniform. No doubt she had already cleaned herself up from the trip.
“I was hoping you might have packed a nice tea dress for the trip, Renee.” Standing in your chemise and robe in the middle of the room is more than a touch unconventional, but so are you. “I’ve had an invitation from Mrs. Astor.”
“Ohhhhhh.” Her eyes widen slightly and she nods eagerly. “I have a beautiful teal tea dress that would be perfect.” She insists.
“Well,” you flash both of them a smile, with Renee zipping right past you to the closet where your and Max’s clothes have been stored. “Here goes nothing.”
******
More than an hour later, after all the fuss of redressing, restyling, saying your polite ‘good afternoon’s to the Vanderbilts, and being bundled in and out of a carriage all on your own to take you a mere twenty minute carriage ride from number 1 West 57th Street to 350 Fifth Avenue. The house is even grander than the old photo on the damn Wikipedia page you’d seen ages ago, and you swallow thickly as you walk up to the door and ring the bell. Somehow you’re just certain Mrs. Astor’s butler will be the most intimidating possible version of that career choice.
Instead of the butler answering the door, Mrs. Astor herself is the one that pulls the door open. She had been sent word that you had accepted her invitation and had been looking out for your carriage to arrive. “Mrs. Phillips!” She beams as she opens the door wider and steps back. “I am so pleased you decided to accept my invitation.”
“It was very kind of you to ask me.” Astonished to find the woman herself standing in the front hall of her house, you falter and damn near curtsy as a footman appears to whisk your gloves and reticule away. The small hat perched on your head — not adorned with a particular bat — stays firmly in place.
“When Alice Vanderbilt told me you were going to be in town, I knew I had to have you to tea.” She slides her arm through yours and notices you craning your neck around to look at the interior. “You and Mr. Phillips will be building homes, correct? Let me give you a tour? We have so many modern conveniences.”
“We haven’t decided where to build yet.” Polite conversation seems the way to go, as Mrs. Astor escorts you around the first floor of the fashionable and enormous brownstone they call home. “We may make our home in Newport year round.”
“I would love to have a permanent home.” She admits easily. “Packing up everything I need from one home to another is so tiring at times.”
“But the summers are not always pleasant here, and winters can be isolating in Newport.” She leads you through the hall to a stunning sitting room and it’s really all you can do not to stare the way you did your very first day at your home in Newport. “There must be some advantages for being able to travel where the weather is nicest?”
“Of course there are. I know that I am very fortunate to be able to escape the intolerant weather.” She knows that she is privileged and is thankful for her children’s sake. “I would love a frolicking bath in the gardens. Or a pool, but William says that it’s too much effort.”
“Max doesn’t particularly care for the beach. I think he would probably love a pool instead.” Although, the thought of him indignantly turning into a bat just to be out in the sunshine to see you in a swimsuit almost makes you giggle.
“Then perhaps you will have an indoor pool?” She suggests. “You can swim no matter the weather outside.”
“Perhaps.” She seems delighted for you at the prospect so you smile. “And if we did, you would certainly be welcome to visit.”
“I would be visiting often.” She admits with a grin as she guides you back towards the parlor where the tea is being laid by one of the footmen.
If you had any intention of staying in this time, it would be an immense compliment. But as it is, you have to take the fact as what it is — if you get stuck here, then Lina Astor is a valuable ally to have. “You will be most welcome, pool or otherwise.”
“You are kind. And that is a refreshing thing to find.” She hums, smiling as she settles you both down on the sofa. “Very refreshing indeed.”
“It was an honor to receive your invitation.” It is, and you’re aware of that, but you’re still wondering why she invited you here other than the fact that you’re staying with the Browns. It’s not as though she knows you’re their granddaughter.
“Then I am happy you accepted.” The footman has disappeared, and Mrs. Astor leans forward to pick up the teapot. “It is not often I find other kindred spirits in my circle.”
“I—I’m sorry?” The comment takes you off guard, and you feel a little like a deer in headlights at the moment.
Her smile turns slightly coy and she tilts her head. “I don’t think that I’m mistaken.” She tells you conversationally. “Another time traveling witch?”
The mistake you made was reaching for the teacup that the footman had set beside you before leaving the room at exactly the moment Mrs. Astor said the words ‘time traveling’. Your hand clatters past the cup and saucer, nearly upending the small table beside you as your eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. “E—excuse—” Oh, Max is going to be so mad he isn’t here for this. “How could you possibly—?”
“Know that you aren’t from this time?” She muses and sets down the tea set to tap her brows. “You must have just waxed your brows before you travelled back.” Her eyes are flashing with intrigue. “What year had you left?”
"I—" It automatically makes you hide your hands, like she could somehow know that you had just taken off your nail polish the day before. "Um...2023..." you murmur, feeling very oddly like you've been caught by the Time Travel Police or something equally insane.
“Ohhhhhh.” She smiles excitedly and leans in. “Tell me about it, please?” There’s a plea in her voice that is barely noticeable under the excitement.
You don’t even know where to begin, swallowing hard and realizing that the conversation might not make any sense – in an insane sort of way – without context. "When...when have you, um...traveled to?" This time you manage to get the teacup firmly into your hands, but you're sure they must be shaking violently as you can't tear your eyes off the prim and proper madam of New York society.
“I think you misunderstand.” Lina shakes her head and reasons that it’s not a logical conclusion. “I was born in 1965. This is the time I travelled to.”
"What?" When you almost drop the delicate teacup all over again, you just shove it back onto the table.
“I would never have believed it myself.” She admits easily, continuing to talk. “However, how do you deny yourself in photographs from decades before you were born?” She asks. “I know some might think there a doppelgängers, historical figures that look like other people in different times, but I believe, like me, they are witches who have travelled to their proper times.”
"Does that mean...that once we travel...that we're stuck?" You ask, eyes widening impossibly yet again. "We go back to our proper time and stay there?" The possibility hadn't occurred to you, but it seems alarmingly real to hear her talk about it.
“Perhaps that it the wrong wording.” Mrs. Astor concedes. “Because I could have chosen to go back, but why would I when my soulmate was in this time?”
"I suppose that would account for the decision." The way your mind seems to be scrambled is the only thing that makes perfect sense at the moment, but shaking your head doesn't seem to set any of your thoughts straight at all – except one. "So there is a way to go back, then?"
She frowns slightly, tilting her head. “You mean you didn’t come here on purpose?” She asks softly, trying to understand why you would travel through time if not for a reason.
"It was an accident," you admit, feeling all the more amateurish for it. "I was trying to cast a protection spell and it...sort of imploded around me. Instead of banishing the person from where my soulmate and I were, it brought him here with us."
“Oh my.” Her eyes widen slightly and she knows there must be more to the story. “Hopefully, that person is no longer a bother to you and your soulmate?”
"No." A fact which has brought you no small amount of relief. "No. He certainly is not." This might be the most insane situation out of all of the insane situations you've ever found yourself in, and you lean forward in your seat unconsciously. "So..if you were born in 1965...do you mind if I ask where you were born? I'm endlessly curious now."
She grins and leans in. “California.”
"This is just...absolutely insane." The shake of your head still doesn't align your thoughts, but at least this time when you laugh in disbelief you don't feel foolish for it. "And you just...saw yourself in a history book?"
“Imagine my surprise.” She snorts and shakes her head. “But I just knew that it was me.”
"And I thought my story was crazy," you huff, exhaling like it's the biggest relief of your life.
“Believe me, there’s few who know my story.” Lina laughs, reaching over and covering your hand with your own. “How do you explain a colored rose tattoo on your pelvic bone to a man who has never even thought of a tattoo?”
“Oh my god.” Barely managing not to snort when you burst out into giggles, you cover your mouth and manage to recompose yourself. “That…that would not be easy,” you admit readily. “Although I guess at least it’s somewhere easily hidden.”
“Yes. William has accepted that I am from a different time, but my maid believes it is a strange birthmark.” She snickers.
“That is a remarkably detailed birthmark, Mrs. Astor,” you snicker softly, shaking your head. “Mine is essentially a blob.”
“Just so.” She agrees. “How are you acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Brown, really?”
“I suppose it’s a moot point, to ask you to keep my secrets when you’ve already shared yours. We’re in this together.” And what a fucking weird person to even say that to, you think with an internal huff. “They are my grandparents. But only Mr. Brown knows who I really am.”
“Grandparents…how delightful.” She hums as she picks up your cup of tea and hands it back to you. “I expect that it’s easily possible because of your vampiric bloodline, your mother waited to give birth to you?”
“I should not be surprised that you know so much, I suppose?” It’s astonishing to you, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Doesn’t everyone have friends who keep their secrets? Especially within the magical community. “Yes. She did. She waited quite a while.”
“Your grandmother is the leader of her coven in Newport.” She reminds you. “I am the leader of the coven here. William has actually talked to your grandfather about immortality.”
“Really?” Imagining the Astors in the future makes your head spin a little, but how is it any weirder than you coming back to this time? “If you ever find yourself in 2023, come and visit.”
Picking up her own tea, she adds a sugar cube and stirs it. “Your soulmate is immortal? Or just a lucky human? I wasn’t quite able to tell.”
“Max is immortal.” And you almost laugh to yourself, thinking again how much he would love to be here for this. “My grandfather was his sire…either several years ago or it will be many years in the future. Depending on how you look at it.”
“How fascinating it all is.” She wonders, blowing on her tea and taking a small sip. “What a wonderful connection. I hope that your time here is fruitful?”
“I hope so, too.” You admit, blowing out a sigh of your own. “Of course, if I can never figure out how to get us home, our time here will be permanent.”
“Yes,” at the mention of that, Lina straightens. “That is why I asked you to tea. To get to know you, but also inquire if you are well versed in the spells.” She sets her tea down and stands, moving over to the bookcase. “I have all my own spells here, including the one to bring me to my William’s time.”
“I am not particularly well versed in any spells at all.” The idea of an Astor family grimoire piques your interest as you watch her move amongst the shelves, pulling things out quickly in a very particular order until a hidden panel in the wainscoting pops open. Of fucking course Mrs. Astor has a secret compartment for her grimoire. “My magical education came late in life.”
“The perhaps I might give you a copy?” She asks, knowing that you might not have your own family grimoire. If her own could assist you in creating one, she would be delighted.
"Are you serious?" At least the more modern phrase won't sound too foreign to her as you stare at the petite figure of Lina Astor over your teacup. "I—I mean—that would be so incredibly generous of you."
“I will start writing it out immediately.” She promises as she brings the leather-bound book over to the sofa. “By the time of your grandmother’s ball, it will be in your hands.”
"Then I suppose we're here until at least Samhain." A few weeks in 1885 won't do you any harm, but it makes your smile flicker slightly at the thought of missing your own Samhain ball. It makes you wonder how Allison and Eddie are doing – what they're doing – and if Yayo has even explained what's going on.
“Delightful.” She winks at you, even as she speaks properly. “You and I will have to have tea again then. I will call on you?”
"Any time." In the back of your mind you vaguely recall that the appropriate length of a social call in this time period is something absurd like fifteen minutes, and you figure that period must be up. "We're staying with the Cornelius Vanderbilts until Friday, then returning to Newport."
Nodding, she understands your reasoning and bites her lip. “I will be attending the opera tomorrow night, will you be attending as well?”
"My grandparents were kind enough to let us use their box." An actual box at the opera sounded like a beautiful night to you and Annie had been over the moon to bring Emmanuel to the Academy of Music. "My soulmate has never been to an opera before, so we should be in for a fun night."
“Then I will see you at intermission.” Lina decides with a warm smile. “I have to admit that I am very glad you came to tea. It had been a long time since I have talked about…things.”
"I'm glad I wasn't too nervous to accept." Standing from the sofa, you have just enough time to compose yourself before a footman steps up to the drawing room door. You can see your gloves and reticule lying on the table in the foyer and you know that that's your signal. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Astor. I look forward to seeing you again."
“Call me Lina.” She demands softly, setting the book down and leaning in to give you a quick hug. “We are sisters after all.”
"I will see you tomorrow night, Lina." You squeeze her back gently before striding from the room and accepting your things from the footman with a smile. Whatever you had expected this visit to be, it was nothing like that at all, and you're all the more glad for it as you get into the carriage.
As soon as the door closes, the bat that had been sitting up on top of the curtain flutters down and lands in your lap, squawking.
"Well, hey Cutie pie. I know you." It's all you can do not to burst out into giggles, but you scoop Bat Max up in both hands and let him snuggle into your chest as the carriage lurches and starts off down the street to take you back to the Vanderbilt's house. "You're never going to believe the visit I just had," you tell him honestly, blowing out a deep sigh.
Max turns his head and practically sticks it down your bodice, thankful that the tea dress is lower cut than your traveling dress. Flapping his wings and squeaking in response to you.
"If you wanted to grope me, you could do it in human form," you snort, giggling at the little bat's antics. "So it turns out..." you cuddle your soulmate's animal form as the carriage bumps and jostles along the road, hand wrapped around his small body to keep him safe against you. "The legendary Mrs. Lina Astor? Is a witch."
Snuggled happily between your breasts, Max trills, hating that he has to pull away, but he can’t transform in your dress. “What?!?” He demands as soon as he is very much in a human form again, eyes bugged out in surprise.
“I swear on every god I can think of,” you promise, holding your hand up like it’s some kind of solemn oath. “But it gets crazier. She’s a fucking time traveler, too!”
“Bullshit.” Max huffs, not thinking you are a liar, but who can that be?
“I swear!” The way you practically double over cackling — or you would have doubled over if not for the corset — tells him how dead serious you are. “She was born in 1965. Saw herself in history books and knew she had to come back.”
“Isn’t that a mind fuck?” Max’s eyes widen. “One of the most historical female figures in America is a time traveler.”
“She’s going to make me a copy of her grimoire,” you murmur, voice full of awe as you lean into your soulmate’s side. “I can’t fucking believe I found another time traveler. And by accident!”
“It seems as if she recognizes something about you.” He worries about that slightly, but with Mrs. Astor as an ally, it would smooth a lot of issues for you should they arise.
“She noticed my eyebrows.” It’s such a stupid detail to you that it’s laughable, but it’s completely on point when you look at it. The fact that you had gone to the salon with Allison just the day before everything happened is what made your appearance stick out to a woman who actually knew what eyebrow waxing was. “She said she’d help me. So I can get us back safely. But…the copy of her grimoire won’t be ready until Samhain. So it looks like we have two more weeks in 1885.”
“I won’t mind that.” Max admits with an easy grin. “Although you might.” He snorts, lifting a brow. “You start your period in two weeks.”
“Pain killers in this time have cocaine and heroine. I am not taking a damn thing.” You’re not surprised at all that your blood drinking soulmate with a superhuman sense of smell already knows your cycle, so you just bypass that face completely. “I will be begging for hot chocolate, though.”
“All the hot chocolate you can drink.” He promises with a smirk. “I think your mother likes my hot chocolate too.”
“She does.” And of course he’s smug about that. He deserves to be. “But you can’t cave and give her the recipe. She used to make me Swiss Miss when I was a kid.”
“Oh no.” He huffs. “This is my secret recipe.” He insists. “You only get that when you’ve been married to me for a hundred years.”
"Real married or pretend married?" You tease, grinning as you snuggle deeper into his side.
“Real.” He snorts. “Have to make sure you’re with me for me and not my hot chocolate.” He teases. “Although, before I forget….do you want to dance tonight?”
"I'd love to." Your hand slips gently into his, fingers threading together, and you squeeze his hand in yours. With your head on his shoulder at the carriage bumps along the road, this is pretty damn close to bliss.
“Good.” Max’s fingers caress your palm. “I hired a little band of musicians to play for us after Alice said I could use the ballroom tonight.”
"You hired a band?" Reeling back to look him in the eye, your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline in surprise. "What's the occasion? Did I not know it was your birthday or something?"
“No.” If he was still living, his cheeks would be scorching hot, but he does look a little embarrassed. “Since it’s…since you want to…” he waggles his brows suggestively in an endearing immature way. “I wanted to make it special. A night you wouldn’t forget.” He also wants to show you that you deserve some to put in the effort for you.
"Honey..." Your gasp, you have realized since being with someone who doesn't need to breathe, is so uniquely human. He might be looking slightly embarrassed, but your jaw is on the floor of the carriage and tears have sprung up into your eyes as you stare at him. "You—really?" It's so far outside of the realm of what you could ever have expected that you don't even know what to say. "For...me?"
“Was it dumb?” He had been sure that you would love it. “It’s dumb. I should have asked, right?” He panics and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dolly, I just wanted to make it special.”
"Max." Tugging on his hand slightly makes him look at you, and you shake your head fiercely even as you reach up with your free hand to touch his cheek. "That is the sweetest, most thoughtful, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me and if we weren't already engaged I'd been asking you to marry me right here in this carriage." The watery shine in your eyes is nothing less than pure happiness and pride, and you lean forward to kiss him with soft surety. "In fact, I'm prepared to say fuck it and get married right here in 1885, just so I can proudly call you my husband for real."
He stares into your eyes for a moment, the unease fading and he bites his lip. “I just wanted you to feel special.” He admits quietly. “You are special. And I want you to believe it.”
"My whole adult life, no one has ever believed in me or loved me the way you have." It's somehow simultaneously exhilarating and humbling, the magnitude to which Max's love is worn entirely on his sleeve. It's obvious, not just evident, and you never thought that you were worth someone's entire devotion the way Max has given every ounce of himself over to loving you. "I hope I give back even half of what you do. And I'm glad we have literally all the time in the world for me to learn to love you exactly as well as you love me. Because you're special too, sweetheart."
“Of course I am.” He flashes you a smirk that is pure bravado, and more than a little facade, but he won’t argue with you. It would be pointless when you would say you weren’t worth it to him.
"I just never want you to doubt it, that's all." Max deals with his insecurities in very different ways than you do. You know that. So instead of huffing at him or rolling your eyes or anything of that sort, you just smile and kiss the corner of his mouth again.
“I knew I should have gone with you.” Max pouts, but he knows his presence might have derailed the conversation.
"Today will hardly be the last that we hear or see of Lina Astor," you remind him with a grin. "She might even pop up to 2023 to see us sometime."
“That would be pretty fucking cool.” Max muses. “Her husband has certainly made enough money to support them.”
"I don't know if he's ever actually time traveled with her, but it would be pretty fun if they popped into the future to visit." The two of you lean back again in the carriage, resting against each other's sides as it pulls around the corner of the avenue. "Can you imagine throwing a ball in 2023 and having an Astor show up?"
“No one would know who they were.” Max points out. “They could move through the time in complete anonymity.”
"Unless we find the one person who is like...an Astor family historian or something." That person must exist, you're sure of it. But thankfully, you definitely don't know them. Although if you did? That would be an interesting introduction. "You do know that if I get my time traveling down as well as hers, we could do that, too?"
“Has she travelled to other times as well?” He asks, confused as he wonders. Could that explain why the Astors had a golden touch in business?
"Visits are so short here that I didn't really have time to ask," you admit sheepishly. "But I offered for her to come and visit us in our time and she didn't immediately shut me down or anything, so I have to think it's possible. It's magic not like...a wormhole or a tear in the space-time continuum, right? So theoretically a witch who can master it should be able to pick their destination just like Marty McFly plugging a date into the Delorian."
“Do they make it in a broom model?” Max jokes, chuckling at his own humor when you roll your eyes. “It’s funny and you know it.”
“I’m getting a bumper sticker for abuela’s fancy car when we get home,” you inform him, laughing under your breath at your own bad joke. “My Other Ride Is a Broom.”
“You would not put a sticker on that car.” Max is horrified in a decidedly male way about that, his eyes wide and anguished. “My car’s probably been towed off, or stolen.”
“I’m sure Yayo had it picked up. After all— he knows where we are.” The carriage rolls to a stop and you stretch as much as your dress allows. “Home sweet temporary home.”
“What a temporary home it is.” Max snorts, admiring the grandeur of the facade. “I could see having a gothic style architecture if we were here permanently. Play up the spooky vibes.”
“Maybe we should build a house anyway,” you joke with a grin. “Come and go as we like once I figure out how to get us back and forth.”
“Which house in history has an ambiguous past?” Max asks, lifting a brow curiously.
“There’s a lot of them.” Off the top of your head there’s things like Boldt Castle in New York and the Winchester Mystery House. “And I bet Yayo would take care of it for us.”
“Hmmmm.” Max is thoughtful a moment before he shrugs one shoulder. “Perhaps it’s one of ours.” He tells you. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Maybe we’ll get back and Mrs. Taylor will hand us an extra set of keys.” The thought makes you grin, and the carriage jostles just as one is the Vanderbilt’s footmen comes out to open the door and lend you a hand. What seemed unnecessary and dramatic in period films now makes perfect sense. If you didn’t have help getting out of this carriage you’d never be able to find the sidewalk for all the dress you have to wear.
Max managed to turn into a bat before the footman opened the door. That way he will not cause any questions amongst the staff about how he wasn’t with you and then he was. Luckily for stealth, the dips and flounces hide your bat-ified soulmate from sight and you just climb the steps into the house neatly after saying thank you to the footman without anyone being any wiser.
Max smirks a batty little smirk and clings to the folds of your outfit, enjoying being carried into the house with no one the wiser.
******
When Mrs. Vanderbilt also falls in love with an idea, she isn’t one to sit on it. Max asking for the ballroom to dance with his bride sounded like the most thoughtful and romantic thing that she had ever heard of. She had pointed him in the direction of a small orchestra, and had personally gone to the kitchen to have the idea of a dinner for two planned out with the cook with a footman assigned to serve the quiet meal.
There were flowers everywhere. She must have sent Renee out to purchase every flower from every corner within a ten block radius. Bouquets of them set around a small garden table that has been laid out for two, a champagne bucket beside it. The candles and glass lanterns low enough to give the enormous room a romantic, intimate glow. You had been hustled through another bath, a fresh ball gown that had to come from somewhere, although you don’t remember seeing it amongst your purchases even though it is vaguely familiar, and some of Alice’s own jewels around your neck when you are escorted into the room to find Max waiting for you. His own bath done and his tailored tuxedo making him look every inch the dashing, handsome vampire that he is.
“This is a lot more than just dancing…” you gasp, one gloved hand going straight to your heart as you look around. The Vanderbilt’s expansive ballroom looks like it has been taken over by a fairy kingdom with the way it overflows with blossoms, and you look to Max in awe. “It’s stunning, love. You’re… you’ve…” There really aren’t words for the way your heart swells in your chest, and you walk over to him with sure steps to wrap your arms around him. “My soulmate is the sweetest man in the whole world,” you murmur against his chest.
“I didn’t do all this.” Max admits with a shake of his head. “I just mentioned that I wanted it to be special.”
“No?” You pull back from him, incredulous, and look around then down at yourself. “This dress?”
“Well…” he shrugs. “I asked Alice if there is a dress that was suitable for a night of dancing.”
“So I need to write Alice the world’s best thank you note for hosting us. That’s what you’re saying?” Looking at the pair of you together in the nearby mirrored wall paneling, though, your eyes widen in recognition. “I know this dress!” You realize just a second later.
“Really?” Max frowns for a moment and tilts his head. “From where?”
“From the attic.” Your eyes are wide when you look back at him and you practically giggle. “The day that we all dressed up and went to the mansion?” It seems like years and years ago that you were first getting to know the girls in the Newport coven, and the pang of missing them hits deeply. “Allison wore this.”
“How interesting.” He guides you over to the table and pulls out a chair for you to sit down.
"I guess it goes to show that this was supposed to happen?" When he sits down across from you, the two of you exchange a shared, soft smile. "Maybe we shouldn't be surprised anymore? Since life has thrown us so many curveballs already."
“It’s been nothing but adventure since you’ve arrived.” Max admits with a chuckle. “But I’ve enjoyed the ride. How about you?”
"I wouldn't change a single thing." And you really wouldn't. Even the parts filled with uncertainty or fear have brought you closer together, but more than anything he has given you strength and confidence that you never had before. Loving Max has made you a better person, inside and out. "And I'm very excited for every adventure that is still to come."
Smirking proudly, Max takes the bottle of champagne from the bucket and looks at it and then at you. “Sweetheart….do you want me to have this taken away?” He asks softly. “I don’t think Alice knew.”
"If you want to have some, it's okay." He likely won't, having insisted since the day he found out why you don't drink that he will abstain right along with you. But it's also not like this meal will hold much interest for him considering his preferred diet, so you give him the choice.
The bottle goes back in the bucket and he shakes his head. “I’m good.” He knows that you wouldn’t want any, but he always wants to continue to make sure that you know that if you want to have some again, you have that option.
The footman, confused by the turn of phrase, seems to understand that champagne will not be necessary and steps forward to remove the ice bucket and its contents. “I’ll let Alice know that we don’t drink alcohol when I thank her for tonight,” you tell Max. “It’s…all of this is absolutely beautiful.”
“Whatever you want to tell her, baby.” Max from before would offer advice, but he has learned that you just want to explain and not have your feelings or ideas overruled. “Tonight is about you and I want it to be perfect.”
"Tonight is about us." It's about growing closer and about this last, large step forward. You can't be sure if it's taken longer than you thought or far less time than you would have imagined, but having now spent enough nights actually sleeping with Max along with getting to know him, the time for euphemistic sleeping together feels exciting.
He might not feel that way, but he doesn’t argue. Knowing that it’s important for you that he also be included. His soulmate is actually very considerate and he is grateful for that. “Do you want to eat before we dance?” He asks with a grin. “Or work up an appetite?”
"I would hate to interrupt the chef's schedule." According to your abuela, meals in this time are a well-orchestrated dance all in their own right, and you look to the footman for any kind of confirmation or denial of a firm schedule existing. "Might we have time for a turn or two before the meal begins?"
The man smiles at the question, thinking briefly, and almost bows to you with his deep nod. "I will make sure of it, Mrs. Phillips. Please, enjoy yourselves," he says before excusing himself.
The tails of the tuxedo are something that Max believes should still be around in his own time, flicking them out as he stands and glides around the table. “Will you waltz with me, Mrs. Phillips?” He asks, bowing as any gentleman of the time would. Your Yayo had spent time to make sure that Max fit in and did not make any social blunders.
"Mr. Phillips, I would be delighted." You're both up and out of your chairs again, and the leader of the small band that has been hired takes Max's cue to strike up a lively but simple waltz. The man clearly took working up an appetite literally, and you have to smile as Max puts one hand around your waist and draws you in close – a perfect ballroom frame supporting both of you in place before he leads you into the dance.
Like every time Max has danced with you, he is struck by how seamless it is. It’s as if you and he become one at that moment and move in perfect coordinated unison. There’s not a split second’s hesitation, no faltering. Working easily as if you had been partners for a lifetime, which one day will be true.
The swells in the music become dips and turns, the swaying of your frame in Max's keeping you in time and making sure no feet ever get stepped on. The movement is smooth as silk and completely entrancing, although you know that some of your favourite moves are impossible in a gown this large. All that matters is that you and Max stay connected, moving together with fluidity and grace. Sometimes it feels like the happiest you've ever been are these moments dancing with Max, and you wonder if tonight might somehow equal that or make it feel even more magical than it already does.
The mood is already romantic, the music and the dance coupled with the lighting and what both of you know is to come. It’s fairy tale quality and still Max wishes for more. Wanting you to remember tonight forever, looking back at the moment that you truly became his and he became yours. For all his easy flirtations and past liaisons, he wants to continue to romance his soulmate, for everyday to be an opportunity for you to fall more in love with him.
"You're thinking awfully hard about something," you murmur when he pulls you back to his chest after a turn. His expression of concentration is so easy to pick out, and always makes you want to smooth your thumb over his forehead to soothe the creases away.
“Thinking about you.” He admits easily. “How you deserve so much more. How special you are.” He knows you will protest, but he will just have to dance with you more.
"The perfect example of why we're soulmates." Humming softly, you squeeze his shoulder with your off hand and offer him a soft smile. "We think the world of each other and nothing of ourselves." He has masked it with bravado for pretty much his entire life, but when it comes down to it, he has just as many issues with how he perceives himself as you do. "I love you, Max. Completely. You're the most special thing in the world to me, so if I'm as special as you say we're a hell of a team."
The words are the soft, sweet ones that he has craved his entire life and he savors them. Tucking you against his body and closing his eyes. “We are a hell of a team.” He insists. “Now we just need to find out what dancing between the sheets looks like for us.”
He manages to say it quietly enough that it doesn't echo across the ballroom, keeping it for your ears only, and you giggle with soft delight. You're actually excited for this, which isn't something that you were sure you would ever feel again. "I think it'll be very rhythmic," you tease.
He chuckles and nods. “A steady, continuous rhythm.” He promises. Unlike any previous lovers, Max doesn’t get tired. Any changes in the pace would be because he fumbles or he wants to change, not because he’s unable to keep it up.
"Mr. Phillips, I think that counts as scandalous," you hum, fanning yourself with your own hand dramatically and wishing that just this once you actually had one of those fancy hand fans to tease him with.
"You would faint in shock at all the scandalous things that I would do to you, Dolly." Max snorts playfully, sending you a hot look as he dips you low and presses his face into your breasts before slowly dragging you upright again.
“Maybe I would.” Considering there is an entire group of strangers in the room, you demure a little even though you’re shivering with anticipation on the inside. “Perhaps I am terribly proper and ladylike and this is where I’ve belonged all along.”
“I can see that.” He growls, flashing his fangs at you playfully for a split second. “And I am the wicked vampire ready to defile you.”
When you giggle and have to smother a snort, it’s because you’re sure that anyone overhearing this would assume you were really into sexy role playing or at least fantasy foreplay. When the fact is, it’s just who you are. A little silly, a lot romantic, and entirely devoted to making each other happy.
Around the room, your skirts swish and sway as he leads you. Speeding up and then slowing down along with the music. His eyes always on you as he twirls you around the dance floor. Aware that some of the Vanderbilt staff have peeked in, but it doesn't bother him, never minding an audience.
They're peaking in from around the corner screen and through the pocket doors at the end of the room, and you're dimly aware of their presence without ever minding it for a single second. Renee is probably with them, which makes you smile, and you hope she is enjoying the attention of fielding all sorts of questions about Miss Brown's mysterious new friends.
Max spins you again, taking this as seriously as any dance competition. He’s not expecting perfection but it seems that together, you move flawlessly. Making him proud of your abilities and he beams as he pulls you close again.
When the song draws to a close, Max holds you close to his chest instead of going for some dramatic end pose, letting the last strains of music fade away with you held fast to him as your heart beats wildly out of time. After a moment you become dimly aware of a soft clapping and glance over at the band, all of whom are politely applauding your performance. Your cheeks burn hot instantly and you laugh, but curtsy. It must not be often that they get a private show like this.
Max grins, proud of you and his movement shows it as he guides you back to the table for the first course. “My little ballroom dancer.” He coos softly. “So perfect.”
“I’m just following your lead, love,” you remind him softly. There is nothing but pure love in your eyes.
“Nothing I love more than to lead you around the dance floor, and hopefully something more tonight.” He smirks slightly and helps you sit down.
“I think we’ve moved past hope and into certainty.” As you sit down you give his hand a squeeze. You’re ready. Completely ready.
“Never want you to feel like you can’t end things immediately.” Max sits down and he immediately reaches for your hand.
“I know.” And you appreciate it more than you can say. “But I don’t think that will be the case.” If you’re honest, you’ve started to crave the closeness of him, so tonight is exactly what you want.
“I guarantee it won’t.” He winks at you playfully. “But I do want my wife to tell me exactly what she expects of her husband.”
“I promise.” And you will. Just…not where an army of servants can overhear every detail. That conversation is reserved for when you’re actually alone.
He can see the way your eyes flicker to the staff and he hums. “As you wish, Queenie.”
Dinner is gorgeous. An intricate dance all its own, executed with a precision that you really have to admire. Alice’s staff is amazing and the food is to die for. The band plays several more lovely songs for you, and you and Max dance well into the night. When you finally thank them for their time and go upstairs for the evening, you feel like you’re floating on air.
Max marvels at how warm and soft your hand is in his. Waiting for you to start sweating or even get slightly clammy from nerves, but you never do. Just soft sighs of happiness and beguiling smiles as you look over at him. "Tired, sweetheart?"
"Not at all." You've said goodnight to Renee and to Emmanuel's valet already, telling them you don't need help getting ready to sleep tonight, and that leaves just you and Max alone in your room together with a fire to keep you warm. "I do want to go to bed, though."
______
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heliads · 6 months
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Hiya Lisa my love!! I think this may be the first request I’m sending you (omg!?) But I am so excited to do so, and of course for our best boy Jack Wilder <3
Okay this one’s a little silly but I’m thinking Jack Wilder x reader where the reader is part of the Horsemen, but Jack and her don’t exactly get along all too well (enemies/reluctant allies to lovers). I’m thinking they’re sent off together to check out and map a location for the Horsemen’s next big act (maybe a fancy gala! That’d be so fun!), but the whole time they’re just bickering and shooting jabs at each other and the other guys are on comms and are just So Tired™ of their bullshit 😭
amber i love you for this
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You don’t think you’ve ever seen the magical enigma known professionally as J. Daniel Atlas and familiarly as a pain in all of your asses as stressed as he is right before the start of a new job. The Horsemen are world renowned for their intricate performances and flawless setups, which only serves to increase the pressure on all of you to keep one-upping yourselves every time you appear in the spotlight. Danny has taken it upon himself to make sure that all of you stay perfect, and that responsibility is manifesting itself in the form of a lecture right now.
He’s standing in front of you, eyes wild with the fire of what could be creative genius or perhaps too much coffee, and rattling off a series of questions to make sure you know what you’re doing.
“Where are you going?” He asks first.
You meet his gaze steadily. “The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Specifically the busiest areas during the Met Gala.”
“How are you entering?” Danny queries.
“Two ways. First, as a tourist, to spot the security cameras. Then, I’ll go again at night, to lay some cameras of our own and run some more thorough investigations.”
Danny takes a step closer. His hands are steepled together, making him the perfect picture of a plotting supervillain from one of those bad action movies Merritt keeps playing. “What, specifically, are you looking for?”
You want to roll your eyes, but you learned a long time ago that showing any sort of emotion except for intensity in front of Daniel Atlas during his mad planning sessions is only asking for trouble. So, you keep your cool, or you try to, at least. “The normal stuff. Alcoves and closets where we can hide. Areas with low security presence. Entrances and exits. Janitors. Extra uniforms. That sort of thing.”
Daniel nods once, the only sign that you’re not outright bombing his little pop quiz. “And who is going with you on this reconnaissance mission?”
This time, you can’t disguise your sigh of disgust. “I’m taking a stubborn child.”
Danny gives you a cool stare. “Try again.”
You give him a look, but Daniel is prone to winning staring contests, especially when he’s in this sort of mood, so you cut your losses and give in. “Fine. I’m taking Jack.”
To your side, someone starts clapping. “Perfect response!”
You and Daniel both turn in unison to see your recon partner applauding your sarcastic answer from his chair a few paces away. His feet are kicked up on the table in front of him, and although he had been aimlessly scrolling through his phone this entire time, he’s put the device down temporarily so he can remind you just how strong a bond the two of you share. Which is to say, in no uncertain terms, none at all.
Daniel glances back at you. “You’re not going to let the two of you working together be a problem, will you?”
You fold your arms across his chest, affronted. “I won’t. You might want to double-check with my so-called partner, though. Who, by the way, is free to answer any of these questions on his own. I don’t see why I’m the one who has to know everything while he gets off easy. Aren’t we sharing this responsibility? And by extension, this interrogation?”
Jack just flashes you a thousand-watt smile. “You seemed to have it covered, sweetheart. Besides, I just like hearing the sound of your lovely voice.”
You flip him off. He blows you a kiss, then does the same. Daniel looks ready to burst a blood vessel. “Focus, you two. I want no slip ups. We’re stealing the show of the Met Gala. If we make a mistake, I think Anna Wintour will personally kill us.”
“She’s going to do that anyway,” Jack muses, “We’re interrupting her little fashion show. God forbid someone focuses on us instead of all the celebrities who aren’t even dressing to theme. If I had that money, I could do way better, is all I’m saying.”
You shoot him a perplexed look. “Since when have you paid attention to the Met Gala outfits? Last time I tried talking about it, you told me that was all absurdist nonsense.”
“Maybe I was just talking about you,” Jack answers vaguely. “I’m allowed to, like, develop interests.”
You toss him a glare, then turn back to Daniel, who for some reason looks somewhat entertained. “Can we go back to the plan, please?”
Danny straightens up. “Yes, I’d like that. I’ve briefed both of you on the entrances and exits I need you to scout out–”
“Too many times,” Jack cuts in. He’s not wrong. Danny’s been over this every hour on the hour since you got the call to stage your own show at one of the most famous fashion opportunities of the year.
Daniel, however, seems to think that he hasn’t mentioned the details enough. Now Jack is on the receiving end of not just your glare but Daniel’s as well. “As I was saying,” Danny continues smoothly, “You’ll get in and get out. Try not to move too quickly, you don’t want to attract attention, but don’t linger too long, either.”
“We’ll be fine,” you assure him. “Not our first rodeo.”
Danny nods hesitantly. “I know. Just your first rodeo together in a while.”
That’s no big secret. You and Jack may both be Horsemen, but that certainly doesn’t mean you have to like each other. In fact, you couldn’t be farther from it. You’re not enemies, so to speak, an enemy is the FBI or the CIA, but referring to whatever exists between you as friendship is stretching the truth. You’re more like uncertain, unhappy allies. You’ll work together so long as you get paid and stay in the spotlight while you’re at it, but you’re not likely to grab drinks after a show together.
However, the Horsemen come first above any personal squabble. Always. That’s the one thing you and Jack can agree on. What you’re working on is bigger than the two of you, it’s bigger than all of you. To most of the world, you are magic. No rift between teammates is worth damaging that ideal.
That’s why Jack straightens up at last, and dons an expression verging on solemnity. “We’ll do our part, Danny. No need to worry.”
“There had better not be,” Daniel comments, but he backs off after that, and leaves to track down Merritt to deliver a similar speech.
Now alone, Jack’s familiar cavalier attitude comes back in a flash. “Can’t wait for our little date tomorrow, L/N,” he tells you.
You roll your eyes. “It’s going to be so much fun.”
The next morning, you and Jack wait your turn in the entrance queue at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. You’re both disguised with baseball caps pulled low over your heads, then paired with sunglasses, and you each have fake IDs in your pockets just in case. It’s surprisingly easy to get around undetected; although the Horsemen are famous the world over, no one expects to see them outside of one of your performances. It makes no sense to spot one of you in a coffee shop or in line ahead of you, so their minds just glance over you as if you were never there at all.
It’s certainly convenient. You could always go to an outside source for intel, but if there’s one lesson you’ve learned throughout your time, it’s to never trust anyone outside of your immediate circle. There are always people who’ll sell off your secrets, or debunkers frothing at the mouth to show how you do what you do.
No, it’s best to keep everything under wraps, even if it makes disguises necessary. There’s a brief moment of panic in which the security guard checking Jack’s bag lingers on his face a little longer than usual, but he’s waved through soon enough and then you’re able to wander further into the museum.
A voice crackles over your earpiece. “What was that about?” Danny, paranoid as always.
Jack shrugs, directing his voice towards you so no one will suspect he’s talking to anyone else. “Probably just a newbie convinced they’ll catch a would-be robber by checking my hand sanitizer close enough. They didn’t plant any bugs, we’re good. Most likely, she was just captivated by my exceedingly good looks and got distracted.”
You scoff. “Or maybe she was just fascinated by your hideousness and wanted a better look.”
Jack clutches a hand to his heart, feigning agony. “My hideousness?” Y/N, I’m hurt.”
“Good,” you smile saccharinely at him.
Daniel sighs in a gust of static over your earpiece. “Focus, you two. Please.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Jack says. “We’ll get to work.”
You and Jack slip through the exhibits, pretending to examine paintings in sculptures when, in reality, you’re looking harder at the security features in each room. The Horsemen already have a rough plan in mind for how you’re going to enter and exit, but the security presence could change which specific entrance you use.
When you loiter a little too long near one oil painting of two nobles dancing at a lavish ball, Jack doubles back to your side. “Everything alright? We haven’t been noticed yet, have we?”
You shake your head, snapping yourself back to reality. “No, we’re fine. Just looking. I love this year’s theme for the gala. If I had an actual invitation, I would have worn something like the dress in this painting. I would want to, at least. Of course, that would only happen if we weren’t breaking in, but. Yeah. That’s what I would do.”
You realize you’re rambling and try to cut yourself off, but you’ve already been going on for a while. You wait for Jack to tease you, but instead, the corner of his lips tugs up in a soft half-smile. “It would look good,” he admits, “You would. Maybe we should petition Danny to let us dress up. We could recreate the painting.”
He swoops closer, placing one hand on your waist and taking yours with the other, spinning you into a waltz just like in the painting. Jack pulls you close in an exaggerated dip just like in the painting, one that takes you a little too near the painting. One of the security guards surges across the room to tell you two to move away again. Jack lets you up, then exaggeratedly apologizing, slapping the guy on the back as a gesture of camaraderie. As the guard walks away, you can see the tracer he’s planted, one that will give you two much-needed information on the paths each guard takes on their shift.
“Nice one,” you breathe.
“Yeah,” Jack says, but he’s still looking at you, as if mentally cataloging each and every place his hands had been just moments before. “I am nice.”
You swat him on the shoulder, and he winks. Rather than give that an answer, you head to the next exhibit. The two of you tag the next few guards you come across, noting janitor’s closets and fire exits while you’re at it. 
It’s easy to settle into a rhythm. You go from room to room, you snipe at each other, you get the job done. Jack passes a sculpture of a nude woman and suggests that be the costume you wear to the Gala, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; you tell him that you’ll do it only when he’s got biceps the size of the Greek hero statue next to it.
Eventually, you only have one tag left. This one, though, will be the most difficult. The chief security guard has access to the central security station of the museum; by bugging him, you can get the passcode to the main room, which would be a significant help. The only problem is that you’ll have to get close enough to talk to the guy, and he looks far more suspicious of everyone around him than any of the other guards.
You volunteer to do it, and weave your way over to the guard in charge. It takes a heady dose of flirting, but you’re able to get the job done eventually. You do have to shell out a fake phone number, but he’ll only find out the number isn’t yours later that night. No harm, no foul.
Or, not according to you, at least. When you walk back over to Jack, though, your partner in crime has his arms folded tight across his chest, and he looks more annoyed than you’ve seen him all day. At last, something has managed to pierce his armor of sarcastic, joking indifference, but you’re not sure what.
“He seems nice,” Jack says, voice unnaturally calm, “Maybe you do want to take him out on a date after this, like you said.”
You laugh. “We both know that was an act, Wilder. No need to get jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” he insists, “I have nothing to be jealous of.”
“Nothing?” You ask, one brow raised. “So you wouldn’t mind if I went back and gave him my real number?”
Jack slings an arm around your shoulder in a pretense of affection, but it feels more like he’s pinning you to him, making sure you can’t go back and do as threatened. “That would be ridiculous. It would ruin our whole act.”
You grin. “What act?”
“That we’re here on a date of our own, obviously,” Jack says.
“We haven’t done anything of the sort the whole time we were here,” you point out. “It makes more sense for him to think we’re just friends.”
“Then we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Jack suggests, and although you do notice the glint in his eyes when he says it, you’re still not expecting him to lean forward and kiss you. The kiss is– startling, yes, but not bad, not at all, and when he finally breaks away and looks triumphantly over at the guard who’d been flirting with you, you get the feeling that Jack thought so too.
“I think we should do this all the time,” Jack whispers to you. “Maybe we should ask Danny to change our assignments around.”
“Actually,” a voice crackles over your earpieces, “I’d rather neither of you ever spoke to me again. If I have to think about you two making out one more time, I’ll pour bleach directly into my brain.”
You slap a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. “Oh, no. Daniel, how long have our comms been on?”
“The whole time,” your showman says, “I hated all of it, thank you for asking.”
Jack snorts. “And you didn’t remind us to turn off our mics?”
“Merritt wanted to see if you’d actually commit enough to do it,” Danny says, sounding supremely unhappy. “Now we’re both traumatized. Just get your asses back here and never bring this up again.”
This time, you can’t hide your laugh. “Alright, we will. Try to stay away from the bleach in the meantime.”
“I make no promises,” Danny grumbles, sending you and Jack into a wave of laughter again.
Jack reaches up to switch off his own earpiece, then does the same for you, gently brushing the side of your face with his hand while he’s at it. “Well,” he says slowly, “We might as well make the most of our time right now, hadn’t we? I’d hate for our ticket money to go to waste.”
You grin. “Quit the theatrics and kiss me.”
Jack Wilder doesn’t usually do as told. This time, though, he makes an exception.
requested by @hiya-itsamber, i hope you enjoy!
now you see me tags: @mayfieldss
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visit-new-york · 8 months
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Central Park is a famous and iconic urban park located in the heart of Manhattan, New York City. It is one of the most visited and well-known parks in the world, covering an area of approximately 843 acres (341 hectares). Central Park offers a wide range of recreational, cultural, and natural attractions for both residents and visitors to enjoy.
Here are some key features and aspects of Central Park:
History: Central Park was designed by landscape architects Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux and was officially opened in 1858. It was created to provide a green oasis in the midst of the rapidly growing and industrializing city, serving as a place for relaxation, recreation, and cultural enrichment.
Landscape and Design: The park's design incorporates a diverse array of landscapes, including open meadows, woodlands, ponds, lakes, and formal gardens. It features winding pathways, picturesque bridges, and scenic vistas. The design was influenced by the "romantic" or naturalistic style, with the intention of creating a harmonious environment where visitors could escape the hustle and bustle of the city.
Attractions: Central Park boasts numerous attractions, including:
The Central Park Zoo: A small but popular zoo within the park.
The Central Park Conservatory Garden: A beautifully landscaped formal garden.
The Great Lawn: A vast open space often used for concerts and events.
The Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir: A scenic jogging and walking track around a large reservoir.
Bethesda Terrace and Fountain: An iconic gathering spot with stunning architectural features.
Strawberry Fields: A tribute to John Lennon, featuring the "Imagine" mosaic.
The Loeb Boathouse: Offering boat rentals and dining with a view of the Central Park Lake.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art: While not technically part of the park, it is located along its eastern edge, often referred to as the "Museum Mile."
Activities: Visitors can engage in a wide range of activities within Central Park, such as jogging, picnicking, biking, bird-watching, horseback riding, and ice skating in the winter. The park also hosts various events, including concerts, theater performances, and outdoor movies during the summer months.
Conservancy: The Central Park Conservancy is a private, nonprofit organization that plays a significant role in maintaining and preserving the park. It raises funds for park improvements, restoration projects, and ongoing maintenance efforts.
Filming Location: Central Park has been a popular location for movies and television shows over the years, making it instantly recognizable to audiences around the world.
Central Park's enduring popularity and iconic status make it a must-visit destination for anyone traveling to New York City. It provides a peaceful and natural escape in the midst of the urban jungle and serves as a testament to the value of green spaces in urban planning.
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kathanglangit · 6 months
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The Fourth Blade: Panabas - "For Chopping"
Four days to the launch of the white-hot lightning that is the Gubat Banwa Kickstarter! Gubat Banwa is a TTRPG supported by the twin pillars of tactical martial arts and contemplative war drama. Meditate upon love and violence as warriors of a burning world. Will you stem the tide of blades? Or is it rising by your will?
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I'll be posting the weapons I've drawn for the game as a countdown until the launch on October 10. This was supposed to be a Swordtember series, but we needed a little more time to gain momentum. 4/7 blades, past the halfway point, let us proceed with the PANABAS
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Towering amongst what blade collectors categorize as "Moro weaponry", the panabas is quite possibly the largest blade I've ever drawn. Like- I'm not lying, I drew all the blades in this series to scale relative to each other, and the panabas has by and large been the one determining how big my canvas needs to be. The edge is on the longer curve, the spine of the blade is thicker near the handle, and the handle is about as long as the blade (if not longer).
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(Photo from Kristian Josef Acedo)
The form belies the function; it isn't difficult to guess how this blade is used just by looking at it. The name- if I'm not mistaken- is an even bigger giveaway. Panabas supposedly comes from "pang-tabas" which literally means "for chopping". It also goes by the name of nawi.
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(Photos from Raymundo Lucero) As large as its reputation might be, the choppers aren't always massive. Their utility ranges from agricultural to combative to ceremonial, and the size and shape usually matched the nature of the work.
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(Tools from Datu Paglas, Maguindanao)
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(Photo from Dondon Dimpas)
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(Exhibit at Museum of the Filipino People- biggest one) The panabas is most often attributed to the peoples of Maguindanao, though the range of its use and the variants of its make span across large portions of the Mindanao area.
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(Antiques from the collection of Richard Hudson, size comparison with a kalis) A popular tale (especially amongst Filipino Martial Artists) states that the US Marines wore leather collars to protect their necks during the American Occupation in Mindanao, due to blades like these that gave the troops pause, and feel that the extra protection was necessary. Supposedly, this is where the term "leatherneck" came from. Although the veracity of this latter claim is a bit on par with the claim that the Colt .45 was invented specifically to stop the same Moro warriors, the story has already stuck.
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(Antique from Lake Lanao)
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(Photo from The Metropolitan Museum of Art) We touched upon "Traditional" blades last time, referring to blades made by the same people to whose cultures those blades belong. This time we look at the other side of the coin. "Modern" is the term collectors here often use to refer to reinterpretations, usually by modern smiths who are separate from where a blade traditionally belongs. The point of reference I used for "Traditional" blades before is a katana forged by a traditional Japanese swordsmith. If- instead- a white blacksmith in America were to forge a katana using their own smithing methods, that would be considered as a "Modern" blade under this categorization. I'll leave it to you to spot the differences in these next few photos:
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Traditional panabas with a rattan ferrule (Photo from Lorenz Lasco)
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Modern blades by Jun Deuna (Espanola) and RE Pandayan (Quezon) (Photo from Dennis Andrew Golez)
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Traditional blades (Marawi and Maguindanao) (Photo from Dennis Andrew Golez)
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Modern full-tang build by Traditional Filipino Weapons (I know who forged this but I won't doxx their location) (Photo from the TFW website)
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Modern full-tang build by Batangas Armory (Batangas) (Photo from Job Abat)
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Pair of panabas and a binuaya (leftmost) by Traditional Moro Blade, Maguindanaon (Maguindanao)
Say it with me this time! Blade culture is alive and still developing. Mindanao was never conquered by Spain- the fierce resistance of the Moros made sure of that- and again it shows in the blade cultures. Though the panabas is now popular enough to have modern reinterpretations made by smiths across the Philippines, the traditional panabas and the people who make them are still around.
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(Photo from Iniingatang Talim at Kaluban, taken by Ramon H. Bathan)
One of the Five Major Mahamandalas of Gubat Banwa pays homage to and gleans inspiration from living cultures like those I mentioned here. Yes- I repeated the text from the previous installment, because it's equally true, here. Additionally, the panabas shows up as the iconic weapon of the Martyr- one of the 25 Disciplines (read: "character classes") whose moon-bright martial techniques you could pick up in-game. Anyway, go check out the Kickstarter!
The Gubat Banwa Kickstarter launches in 4 days! Check it out here:
Not long now- this is a very small team of creators from the global south knocking on your doors asking for help to get the word out. I truly cannot understate how small this team is, and how amazing it is that they've come this far- we just need a little bit of a boost! With your help, this grand ambition can be realized. We would greatly appreciate any help rendered towards getting more eyes on this game!
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gogmstuff · 6 months
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Dinner and Evening Dresses of 1910 -
Left 1910 (December) Dinner dress by Beer, Les Modes - photo by Félix. From les-modes.tumblr.com/page/14; fixed spots w Pshop 725X1920.
Right 1910 (December) Dinner dress by Maison Agnès, Les Modes - photo by Félix. From les-modes.tumblr.com/page/23 fixed spots w Pshop 752X1920.
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Left 1910 (August issue) Evening gown by Drecoll, photo Reutlinger. From les-modes.tumblr.com/image/519495531581280X1815.
Right 1910 (June) Eevening gown by Rivain & Cie, Les Modes - photo by Félix. From les-modes.tumblr.com/page/27; fixed vertical flaws & spots w Pshop 682X1635
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Left 1910 (May) Les Modes Evening gown by Bernard, photo by Félix. From les-modes.tumblr.com/search/1910s; abated streaks & fixed spots w Pshop 1280X1811.
Right 1910 (May) Les Modes Evening gown by Laferriére. .From les-modes.tumblr.com/search/1910s/page/13 1000X1393.
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Left. 1910 Baroness Gerda von Chappuis (Mrs F. A. Konig) by Sir John Lavery (auctioned by Christie's) From the discontinued Athenaeum Web site; cropped 679X980.
Right. 1910 Evening dress by ? (location ?). From sartorialadventure.tumblr.com 360X1200.
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Left 1910 Evening dress by ? (location ?). From sartorialadventure.tumblr.com 709X1400.
Right 1910 Evening dress by House of Worth (location ?). From costumehistory.tumblr.com/post/180312871593/shewhoworshipscarlin-evening-dress-by-house-of 1280X1679.
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Left 1910 Lady by Arthur von Ferraris (auctioned by Michael Zeller). From Wikimedia 714X1003.
Right 1910 Marie Cécile Ney d'Elchingen (1867-1960), wife of Joachim, 5th prince Murat by Giovanni Boldini (auctioned by Christie's). From their Web site 1718X3212.
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Left 1910 Mrs. E. L. Doyen by Giovanni Boldini (private collection). From arthive.com/sl/artists/8960~Giovanni_Boldini/works/270437~Portrait_of_Madame_Doyen 1765X3600.
Right 1910 Mrs. Mabel Brooks of Kinmount by Sir Hubert von Herkomer (auctioned). From pinterest.com/ustava51/живописьженский-образ/ 1187X1920.
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Left 1910 Peacock dress by ? (Metropolitan Museum of Art - New York City, New York, USA). From buzzfeed.com/deesims/10-stunning-gowns-to-reaffirm-the-belief-you-were-n5qq 638X1681.
Right 1910 Queen Mary photo signed May Posted to Foro Dinastias by Maravilha on 7 August 2010 1160X1600.
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ca. 1910 Madame Duchesse Vendome and Prince Charles-Philippe d'Orléans by Boissonnas & Taponier. From eBay; fixed spots and removed mono-color tint 669X1067.
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anamelessfool · 3 months
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My Inspiration for the Ministry HQ
The Metropolitan Museum of Art Cloisters in Upper Manhattan, NYC
Cloisters founded as a museum in 1938 after the infamous Rockefeller family purchased the collection/building from a private collector of Medieval Art in 1931. It was designed to evoke Western European Monastic life. Reblog will be some artworks found there.
I really enjoy going there. It's a trek but it's worth it. The beautiful gardens and very informative guided tours are amazing. Plus it's attached to a park.
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My Ministry HQ Headcanon
The original Abbey was a satellite location of the Satanic Church of the Void founded in 1635. The original Abbey structure serves as the Atelier for the Conclave of Magicians and the Poison Greenhouse. The seat of the Church was in Milan, Italy until an air raid in 1917 destroyed the building and killed the Mother Imperator and the majority of Cardinals and other officials. A new Mother Imperator was quickly elevated and the Church moved to America in 1917. The tumultuous 20s and 30s led to explosive financial growth and expansion of the Abbey into its current structure. Mobsters and other people who didn't trust the government definitely, definitely didn't funnel money into the church. Not at all.
The top of the tower is the Roost, where the Ghouls live.
My Fic List
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pagansphinx · 9 months
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The Awakening Of The Forest (L'éveil de la forêt) • 1939.
Paul Delvaux • 1897-1994 • Belgian • Surrealist
Post #1
Paul Delvaux's canvases contain, among other things, a plethora of female nudes. Like classic nudes, they and their surroundings are painted with precise realism. Unlike classic nudes, however, the women are not posing as such but going about their business within fantasy-filled worlds. They stare vacantly toward the unknown and largely do not engage with one-another. It is as if they are captured in a moment in time. If one were to imagine, though, a Delvaux painting coming to life, these women might very well be engaged in robotic, ritualistic movement - the Stepford wives of a surreal canvas. At times disconcerting, the canvas sometimes include fully-dressed,voiristic men. Enigmatic as they are, Delvaux's women hold a beautiful, enigmatic appeal.
Delvaux's inspiration for his visual imagery came from books he loved as a child. Indeed, the painting above is a recreation of a scene from Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth. He also utilized his childhood fears and dreamscapes as creative material for his visual narratives.
Though not depicted in this post (perhaps next post) skeletons, trains and train stations, and architecture are common themes in Delvaux paintings.
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La pause du jour (The Break of Day) • 1937 • The Guggenheim Museum. [This was the first Surrealist painting Peggy Guggenheim added to her collection.]
Below: Femme dans une grotte (Woman in a cave) • 1936 • Oil on canvas • Thyssen Bornemisza Museum, Madrid
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La Sirène au claire de lune (A Mermaid in Full Moonlight) • 1940 • Southampton City Art Gallery, Britain. [ As a boy, Delvaux loved the story of the Sirens in The Odyssey.]
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Le jardin nocturne (The Night Garden) • 1941 • Location unknown
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Les grandes sirènes (The Great Sirens) • 1947 • Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City
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Hommage à Jules Verne • 1971 • Fondation de Paul Delvaux, Saint-Idesbald, Belgium
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La Vénus endormie (The Sleeping Venus) • 1944 • Tate Modern, London
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François-Hubert Drouais (1727-1775) "Portrait of a Woman, Said to be Madame Charles Simon Favart (Marie Justine Benoîte Duronceray, 1727–1772)" (1757) Oil on canvas Located in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York, United States In 1745 Mademoiselle Duronceray—the singer, dancer, and comedienne probably portrayed here—married Charles Simon Favart, the father of French comic opera. Among her best-known roles was that of the heroine in The Loves of Bastien and Bastienne, 1753, in which she inspired a revolution in theatrical costume by wearing authentic peasant dress. Drouais’s portrait of her seated at a harpsichord recalls traditional representations of Saint Cecilia, patron saint of music.
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historicalhues · 2 months
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What got you into history?
I know I'm going to regret being this honest but:
It's probably because my first childhood crush was on Rami Malek as Ahkmenrah in 'Night at the Museum' (2006)
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LET ME EXPLAIN: 1. I WAS EIGHT. 2. I grew up in NYC and so it was super cool to "see" the museum I went to all the time on school trips on the big screen. 3. Interestingly enough: before this I was actually TERRIFIED of mummies-I would literally bolt out any room if I saw any type of sarcophagus or body of any type. 4. While eight year old me did find Rami quite beautiful what I found even more fascinating was his costume and the set design of his exhibit!
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5. I remember shortly after seeing the film going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art also in NYC and seeing the Temple of Dendur a Hellenistic temple located there!
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Going inside the temple for the first time I felt like I had traveled back in time and was instantly in love and needed to know everything about Egypt! This turned me on to other histories such as Greece, Rome, Japan And here I am over two decades later I'm going to school for archeology and history! Thank you for your question!!! I love answering all of your questions!
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blueiskewl · 5 months
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The Largest Ancient Floor Mosaic in Turkey Uncovered
The structure with the largest floor mosaic in Cappadocia and Central Anatolia Region was unearthed during the excavations carried out in Örenşehir District of İncesu district of Kayseri province, located in the center of Türkiye.
During ongoing excavations, new mosaics were unearthed from the villa, which is estimated to have been built in the 4th century.
The excavations are carried out under the direction of Nevşehir Hacı Bektaş Veli University, Department of Art History, Lecturer Dr Can Erpek.
Kayseri Provincial Director of Culture and Tourism, Şükrü Dursun, stated that the excavation began three years ago and that “the structure is expanding every year.” The initial assessment of the mosaic area, which was 300 square meters, has now reached up to 600 square meters.”
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Stating that the excavations carried out with the support of Kayseri Metropolitan Municipality continued in an area of ​​​​approximately 4 thousand square meters, Dursun continued his words as follows:
“In our assessments, we have come to the conclusion that this place was built in the 4th century. According to the findings, there are also traces dating back to the 3rd century and beyond. The quality craftsmanship used in the floor mosaics suggests that this place was used as a very important villa in its era.”
“In the area identified as the reception hall, a Latin inscription was found. In addition to that, Greek inscriptions were also uncovered. Geometrically decorated mosaics are predominantly present here. We have reached the end of our excavations for this year. Hopefully, our work will continue next year.”
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The excavation director, Can Erpek stated that the structure continued to be used during the Byzantine period and after the Turks came to Anatolia.
He said, “This place has approximately 33 rooms, spread over a very large area, and is a high-level residence. We have not yet fully reached the boundaries of this residence. It has highly valuable floor mosaics. In the Central Anatolia Region, which includes the Cappadocia region, we do not see such a large residence with floor mosaics. In Cappadocia, during the Roman and Byzantine periods, we generally know about imperial properties. Here, we have encountered the name ‘Hyacinthos’ in the inscriptions. We consider this name to belong to an administrator. When the data becomes clearer, we can more confidently say that it was the residence of an important figure serving in imperial property.”
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Stating that Kayseri resembles an open-air museum, Metropolitan Mayor Memduh Büyükkılıç stated that they supported 6 archaeological excavations in different parts of the city.
Büyükkılıç said, “The mosaics unearthed during the excavations here once again emphasized that Kayseri is the cradle of civilization in Anatolia,”.
By Oguz Kayra.
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egypt-museum · 1 year
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Diadem of Princess Sithathoriunet
When Flinders Petrie and Guy Brunton explored the shaft tomb of Princess Sithathoriunet in 1914 (located in the funerary complex of Senusret II at El Lahun), they found little apart from her red granite sarcophagus and a set of canopic jars, the vessels which accompanied each burial to house the internal organs. Then they discovered a niche in the wall that had been plastered over.
Inside were five boxes containing Sithathoriunet's jewelry, a mirror, razors and pots for cosmetics. Most of the objects from this tomb are now on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. The masterpiece in this collection is a diadem with a circular band of gold decorated with a uraeus or rearing cobra at the front and fifteen rosettes. It also has two gold plumes and six bands of gold hand down from the diadem.
Middle Kingdom, 12th Dynasty, reign of Senusret II, ca. 1897-1878 BC. Now in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo. JE 44919
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If you had told me that there was a three and half thousand year old Egyptian obelisk in Central Park I would have thought you were crazier than some of the people I’ve encountered in Harlem. But now that I’ve seen it with my very own eyes I guess I have no choice but to believe it…
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The Obelisk (known as Cleopatras Needle) was created around 1425 BC in Heliopolis - an area north of modern day Cairo in Egypt - but now sits upon a rocky hill known as the Greywacke Knoll located behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This is the third place that this 220 ton monolith could call home. Originally it was located at the Temple of the Sun in Heliopolis after having been commissioned by Pharaoh Thutmose III and subsequently carved out of a single piece of stone.
When the ancient Romans discovered it in 12 BC it had toppled over and was partially buried in the sand. The Romans then transported it to Alexandria and built the bronze crabs that act as supports for the damaged obelisk before having it installed at the entrance to a temple dedicated to Julius Caesar - a temple which had been built by Cleopatra (hence the name Cleopatra’s Needle)
It then found its way to NYC in the 1870s when the Egyptian government gifted the obelisk to the United States in commemoration of the opening of the Suez Canal.
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