#Gilded in Silver

[wardrobeoftime]

The Gilded Age + Headpieces

Bertha Russell's tiaras in Season 02.

[shehungthemoon]

3x02 Flint convinces his crew to sail into a storm rather than face deadly battle or accept pardons, and this storm will kill them, and John Silver (the man who no one knows) looks up at Billy Bones and tells him he's afraid. Not of the storm but of the fact that he let Flint into his head when no one is suppose to be there. "He had me there too, and that is not suppose to happen."

John Silver shared a truth that exposed him raw and admitted to everything he'd kept close to his chest, to his methods and motives and fears and weaknesses. Just because he could, and the words were there, and the wind was loud.

Just. Fucking insane over this union that Billy and Silver fall into from time to time, where they converse low and quiet with each other and drop their charades as Silver Tongue and People's Man and allow their iron spines to falter for seconds at a time. And they don't trust one another. But they do allow themselves to move the curtains from their faces so only the other can see what's underneath and they understand what it means, and the worst, best part of it all is that they have no reason to do this with one another, not at all.

[escapismsworld]

Sea unicorn as a drinking vessel, Elias Geyer, 1600 AD. Silver, gilded. Leipzig, Germany.

[fashionsfromhistory]

Bodice

1883

Probably United States

The MET (Accession Number: C.I.53.68.1a–e)

[mydaylight]

THE GILDED AGE COSTUME APPRECIATION

Bertha Russell's pale blue and bronze evening dress

[siravalondulac]

that silhouette | j. snow x fem!oc

summary: and then she was here and jon knew - he would be safe in her arms. always.

warnings: smut, p in v, woman on top, bottom jon snow

Silken drapes swayed softly from the canopy above him. The open balcony doors let in a cold breeze that chilled him to the bones. Rays of light from the crescent moon offered him a meagre look at his surroundings.

Jon didn't know whose bed he was lying in. Nor did he know whose room he was in.

The mattress dipped beside him, and before he knew it, she entered his view.

“Elle.”

Her braid fell over her shoulder, the brown almost black in the darkness. The blue of her eyes seemed to glow before him, making his heart beat faster. She smiled.

“Hush, my love.” She lowered her face towards his. “We do not want to wake the Others, do we?”

As his chest rose it touched hers. Only for a moment, and with layers of clothing between them, but still.

Her left hand came up to his face, her fingers lightly ghosting along his jaw, before laying down on his cheek.

Jon’s breath hitched, and then she closed the distance between their lips.

She was cold and soft and gentle, slow and controlling and wonderful. He would never let himself forget the taste of her lips, how they moved against his, the way she slowly coaxed his mouth open with her tongue. He obeyed, of course. She could do whatever she wanted with him, and he would let her.

Sometime during this, Elle had straddled his lap. He only realised after she had started grinding herself against him, burying both of her hands in his hair to get a better grip. She swallowed his moans, never once detaching herself from his lips.

Jon's hands clutched the blanket beneath him. He was getting hard, and uncomfortably quickly at that. His hips started bucking upwards, meeting Elle's halfway.

She moved her mouth away from his, allowing him to catch his breath, if only for a moment. Because soon afterwards, she started sucking on a spot right over his throat that made him let out a moan.

Elle smiled against his skin.

“You are allowed to touch me as well, my love. It would be a shame if you did not.”

His hands soon found their way underneath her shirt, gently running up and down her sides, making her shiver. And somehow, that reaction made him proud.

Her mouth left his skin as she quickly discarded her shirt and then helped him get out of his. Their pants followed.

She sat bare above him, and Jon could do little else but stare. Stare at her beautiful body, her small breasts, her strong legs.

He raised his hand and let it run down the underside of one of her breasts. Her breath hitched, and something in her smile changed. Not for the worse, thank the gods. No, it became a tad softer, more intimate - a smile shared between lovers.

As if in response, Elle moved her hips, and he wanted to pass out on the spot. Her centre rubbed over the underside of his cock, her wetness making it all the more pleasurable.

She lowered her mouth back on his, quieting his moans as he gripped her hips with both hands. He didn't even know what he wanted to do, stop her or encourage her to keep on moving, please keep on moving, never stop moving.

Her left hand travelled down his body, her nails raking over his stomach and drawing dangerously close to his dick. She smiled against his mouth at the increased movement of his hips.

“Please”, he begged quietly. “I need you.”

“Whatever you want, my love.”

Her hand encircled his dick, pumping once, twice before she raised her hips above it.

Jon held his breath.

The moment his tip was enveloped by her walls he almost came. She was so soft and warm and wrapped around him so perfectly. But he forced himself to hold back. He needed to enjoy this while it lasted.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she sank down on him, her mouth never once leaving his.

How did he come to be so lucky? Never once in his life had anyone ever spared him a second look and now he was in the arms of the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, being treated like he was worth more than all the gold in the kingdom.

He finally bottomed out inside of her. Elle pressed their foreheads together, apparently needing to catch her breath as much as he did.

They fit together so perfectly. His dick sat snugly between her walls and her chest pressed against his so closely, he could feel her beating heart.

One of her hands found his, still gripping her hips tightly, and interlaced his fingers with hers. She pulled both of them upwards and laid them gently onto the pillow beside Jon's head. So gently, never letting go, as if it was the only anchor that kept her in this world.

Elle moved her face away from his and opened her eyes. He had never been able to fully nail down what shade they were, appearing intense like ice one night and deep like the ocean the next. But now, with the way they glowed through the darkness, neither seemed like an apt way to describe them.

Then, she started moving.

Jon breathed in deeply in surprise, his mouth dropping open. It took everything in him not to moan loud enough to wake the entire Keep.

Her hips moved around in circles, slowly at first, then gradually increasing their speed. Her walls clenched around his cock, making him whimper and buck his hips upwards. She smiled, and started moving properly, her hand never once letting go of his.

He didn't know when or how it happened, but Elle's hair had come loose from her braid. It now fell in gentle curls just below her shoulders.

A crown would suit her well, he thought. One made of the finest of golds, inlaid with rubies the colour of blood. And her hair would be decorated with blue flowers the shape of stars, like the ones he had seen in Winterfell's glass gardens.

She bounced faster and faster on top of his cock, the slapping resounding throughout the room. His moans had turned into soft whimpers long ago. And yet, throughout all this, her eyes had never left his.

Jon was close, so close. He could tell Elle was too, the way her breathing had quickened just like his, the way her walls started spasming around his dick.

He knew he would never leave her. They belonged together, like sun and moon, like wolf and lion, like ice and fire. As long as he was with her, nothing would happen to him.

Just a bit more, he was standing right at the edge. Everything inside of him felt so good. The sweat and tears would all be worth it. He only needed one last push, then he would come. And once he did he would make Elle his-

Jon awoke with a jolt.

A dream. It had all been a dream.

Thankfully, he tried telling himself. He had not broken his vows. Even if he, technically, hadn't taken them yet.

His clothing was drenched in sweat and his dick was so painfully hard. He wanted - needed - to relieve himself, but even thinking about that brought his mind back to his dream. Back to Elle and how she fit so wonderfully-

No! He would not think about her, especially not in that way. He was to be a brother of the Night's Watch, and she was his friend. Maybe. Hopefully.

Jon looked around the room, studying his friends’ faces, wondering if he had made any sounds in his sleep that would have disturbed them in their sleep. But no one seemed to be awake.

He took in a deep breath and fell backwards onto his pillow again.

(The bed in his dream had been softer.)

He turned around and pressed his hips into the mattress, pleading for his hard-on to go away quickly.

(Much like how his dick had gotten hard so quickly as soon as he had seen her in his dream.)

His uncle had told him he would regret joining the Watch at his age, before he had experienced any of what made a man. Jon had wanted to laugh at him back then. But he didn't want to laugh now.

Why did his life have to be so difficult?

note: if you are intrigued by this one-shot and elle, might i direct you to the story this is inspired by: meet me in the dark, kiss me in the moonlight?

[nuveau-deco]

'Day and Night' Belt Applique by Phillipe Wolfers (Belgian, 1858–1929). Dated 1897, materials are silver, vermeil and amethyst, dimensions: h. 9 cm x w. 12.5 cm. Part of the Belgian Royal Museums of Art and History (MRAH), Phillipe and Marcel Wolfers Collection. Digitally archived by the Brussels-Capital Region Inventory of Moveable Heritage, inventory number: D2017.023.001

(Source: collections.heritage.brussels)

[emillysstudio]

My new 'Book of Lilith'. This has been an enormous undertaking, nearly a year to complete.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Hello, I came across your Kencyrath rec post and I am tentatively intruiged. That said I wanted to ask about a trigger before I dive in. Suicide is pretty strong trigger for me. I can handle it if it's mentioned, but detailed descriptions of the act or a lot of time spent in a suicidal character's head/thoughts dealing with suicidal ideation would not be. Is this an issue in the Chronicles of Kencyrath, and if it is, do you have a different recommendation?

Okay SO.

The Kencyrath exist in a honor/shame society, in which going against the code of honor (lying, breaking your word, etc) is considered a sin that can only be forgiven through an honorable death. Sometimes this takes the form of going into battle without the intention to come back, generally without armor, but it also takes the form of ritualized suicide with a specific kind of knife. I would call it a very specific kind of suicidal ideation, in which it doesn’t come so much from a depressive headspace as it does from a kind of rigidly religious one. There isn’t a ton of time spent in the heads of characters actively pursuing ritual suicide, nor what I would call traditional depressive suicidality, but it IS a very present element of the society, including people freely making choices with the understanding that they will be expected to take their own life afterward, or people being forced to take their own life as an alternative to being dishonored. Think samurai rules or Imperial Chinese rules and you’ll be in the right ballpark. Ultimately I can’t know the inside of your brain, but if onscreen suicide discussion or aftermath is a concern, I might table this series until you feel more ready for it.

In terms of alternative recommendations, buckle up, I have a list based on what part of the Kencyrath pitch you were into. These recommendations are made with the assumption that all the OTHER content warnings for the Kencyrath are not a problem, but I’ll note any really major ones and include a broad rating according to AO3 rules. Anything with an asterisk by it heavily features the big Chivalric Devotion vibes of the main Kencyrath dynamics. I read a lot of that.

Sprawling politics:

The Unbroken* (drafted soldier impresses daughter of the empress, they try to stop a war, full of double-crossing schemes and gallant ladies, cw colonialism, M for violence, sex, and extremely real colonialism)

The Captive Prince* (dethroned prince is sold into slavery under his mortal enemy, definitional enemies-to-lovers content, cw sexual assault, E for a very sexually relaxed culture in a bad way)

A Taste of Gold and Iron* (unambitious prince gets tangled up in a currency fraud scheme and gets a shiny new bodyguard, E for a very sexually relaxed culture in a good way)

October Daye series (starts out classic urban fantasy, rapidly becomes Blood Magic and Politics The Series, for those committed to a long series, T for violence)

Pulp fantasy adventure vibes:

Hero and the Crown/The Blue Sword* (classic sword and sorcery fantasy, for DnD lovers and people who read Horse Girl Books as kids, General Audiences)

Silver Under Nightfall* (vampire couple teams up with vampire hunter to cure a magical plague, the polyamorous murder romance you need in your life, cw coercive assault and body horror, E for gore and numerous threesomes)

Heaven Official’s Blessing***** (translated Chinese novel, very old fallen god returns to Heaven and Does His Best, for those committed to a LONG book, currently on volume 8, T for violence)

Witch King (body hopping demon tries to solve his own murder with his found family in tow, perfect standalone book, T for violence)

Spicy magic systems:

The City We Became/The World We Made (sentient cities and extra dimensional invaders, for everyone who read a lot of Avengers In NYC fic back in 2012, cw racism and survival sex work, M for sex)

Gideon the Ninth/The Locked Tomb series***** (everyone knows about this series, it’s the one with the lesbian space necromancers, cw for just the craziest flavors of abuse, M for violence and cannibalism I guess, also fits the below category)

The Gilded Ones* (what if all the misogynists who said women were demons were absolutely correct, and it was fucking rad, cw for SO much sexism and also religious indoctrination, T for violence)

A Soul to Keep* et al (okay oKAY LOOK THIS IS MONSTERFUCKER CONTENT BUT I RECOMMEND IT, local cursed woman gets forced to marry a demon, they argue a lot and the sex scenes are REAL bizarre, cw kidnapping and the second book deals with a character coming out of a severe depression, HARD E for monsterfucking, obviously)

Interpersonal relationships that are just SO fucked up:

A Dowry of Blood (a letter from Dracula’s first wife to the man himself, cw domestic abuse, M for adult themes and sex)

Remnants of Filth/Yuwu* (translated Chinese novel, loyal general becomes the jailer for his traitorous ex-lover, cw slavery and discussion of sexual assault, E for sex)

The Salt Grows Heavy (homicidal Little Mermaid and plague doctor wander through an apocalypse together, actually read everything Cassandra Khaw has ever touched, the absolute pinnacle of horror, cw all her stuff for really creative violence and body horror, M for violence and gore)

Anyway if you have any other book recommendation questions and/or you read any of these and enjoy them, hit me up, recommending books to people is genuinely one of my great joys in life.

[mariusperkins]

preparing myself for the GeorgeBertha fight in season 3 (downloading Fleetwood Mac's Rumours)

[everythegildedageoutfit]

Every Outfit in The Gilded Age - Outfit 24- Bertha Russell's outfit 6 - Season 1, Episode 1

[wardrobeoftime]

The Gilded Age + Costumes

Bertha Russell's red, blue & silver dress in Season 02, Episode 07.

[sergeantsporks]

Hello! It me, person from comment under chapter 26 on AO3. Tumblr is a new thing for me and it took me quite a long time to understand how it works. 

Anyway, I’m sending you mentioned drawings.

I hope you like them.

Have a nice day!

[youjustwaitsunshine]

in tears about seb once more because i found this (amazing leather bound?) f1 book from 1997 at a used book shop and it had this passage in it

"Helden kommen und gehen. Wer spricht noch von Nigel Mansell, einem der erfolgreichsten Rennfahrer aller Zeiten? Wer denkt noch an den südafrikanischen Kurs von Kyalami, wo der Brite 1992 auf Williams-Renault Champion wurde? Schnellebiger und unsentimentaler als in der Formel 1 geht es selten zu."

Transl.: "Heroes come and go. Who still talks about Nigel Mansell, one of the most successful racing drivers of all time? Who still thinks about the South African track Kyalami, where the Brit won the Championship in 1992 with Williams-Renault? Few things are as short-lived and unsentimental as Formula 1."

and it may prove that people do think that you get forgotten quickly after leaving f1 but seb is disproving it himself!! he's the one actively mentioning former champions, he cares so deeply about the history and he is remembering! he remembers and loves nigel! he makes sure those drivers will still be talked about and he encourages others to learn and remember too!! heroes may come and go but they don't get forgotten! not by everyone and certainly not when they leave as big a mark!!

[fashionsfromhistory]

The Magnolia Vase

Tiffany & Co.

c.1893

The Magnolia Vase was the centerpiece of Tiffany & Co.’s display at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago—a display Godey’s Magazine described as “the greatest exhibit in point of artistic beauty and intrinsic value, that any individual firm has ever shown.” The design of the vase was a self-conscious expression of national pride. Pueblo pottery inspired the form, while Toltec motifs embellish the handles. The vegetal ornament refers to various regions of the United States: pinecones and needles symbolize the North and East; magnolias, the South and West; and cacti, the Southwest. Representing the country as a whole is the ubiquitous goldenrod, fashioned from gold mined in the United States. The exceptional craftsmanship and innovative techniques manifested in the vase—particularly the naturalism of the enameled magnolias—were much discussed in the contemporary press. Indeed, the work was heralded by the editor of the New York Sun as “one of the most remarkable specimens of the silversmith . . . art that has ever been produced anywhere.”

The MET (Accession Number: 99.2)

[ineffable-inspirations]

A silver pepper pot in anthropomorphic form. Roman Britain, buried in the 5th century AD, from Hoxne, Suffolk.

The pepper pot was found in 1992 by a farmer who was using his metal detector to search for a lost hammer. He found his hammer – it is now in the British Museum – but also a hoard of over 15,000 gold and silver coins, gold jewellery and numerous small items of silver tableware. The coins in the hoard establish that its burial took place some time after AD 407/8. Only a very wealthy family could have owned such treasures. We do not know the identity of the person who buried it but several objects are inscribed with the name Aurelius Ursicinus.

The pepper pot is in the shape of a wealthy well-fed woman wearing late Roman fashions. She wears a sleeved undergarment with tight gilded cuffs at the wrists, and a wide-sleeved over tunic with stripes of gilded and engraved decoration over the shoulders representing appliqued bands of embroidered or patterned textile (clavi).

Her golden (gilded) hair is done up in an intricate style that was often represented in late Roman art: the hair is parted in the middle, with rolls at the sides. The back hair is worked into a flat series of twisted locks at the neck that are drawn up over the back of the head, turned under at the front, and held in place with hairpins. Three knobs at the front and another at the crown of the head represent the ungilded hairpins.

Almond-shaped earrings and a necklace of large beads are depicted in relief and gilded, and there is additional gilding on the face, covering not only the eyes but the entire eye sockets, and the mouth, so as the flames from oil lamps flickered, the face would have seemed to come alive.

She holds a gilded scroll in her left hand, to which she points with the index finger of her right hand, probably to symbolise her learning and authority. We do not know if the figure represents a particular woman. ... It's ineffable.

Pepper was just one expensive luxury traded across the Indian Ocean in ancient times, as it did not grow in Britain or any other part of the Roman Empire. It was grown in India and to get to Suffolk, the pepper was transported by sea, river and over land.

https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_1994-0408-33

http://www.teachinghistory100.org/objects/about_the_object/pepper_pot

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/1a/Hoxne_Hoard_28.jpg/800px-Hoxne_Hoard_28.jpg

spotted on Archaeologist Ticia Verveer's facebook page; https://www.facebook.com/100044382881604/posts/pfbid0UGcEJok8i67xeezyj2CLcKMJsbnLKAkWdy7NmP8TKZZ55opE4nU5fdVfqTSm7URXl/