#late 1600s

[galactic-bi-cat]

Mizu in late 1600's garb slaying (and slaying) in London

(Process under readmore)

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

Domenicus van Wijnen (1658-1700) "Astrologer observing the Equinox and a scene of parting Adonis and Venus" (c. 1680) Oil on canvas Dutch Golden Age Located in the National Museum, Warsaw, Poland

[nuveau-deco]

Engraved Silver Snuff Box with an Oval Carnelian Cabochon Mounted on the Lid. Designed/made by Thomas Tysoe in England, ca. 1690; dimensions: 1.9 x 4.1 x 3.5 cm. Part of the Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum collection, object number: 1999.306.35

(Source: harvardartmuseums.org)

[solcattus]

Portrait of a Lady

By Nicolas de Largillière

[kaitropoli]

"Louise-Marie de Bourbon, dite Mademoiselle de Tours; La fillette aux bulles de savon"

By Pierre Mignard

Oil Painting, 1681.

Château de Versailles.

PORTRAIT SUBJECT

La fillette aux bulles de savon, or the commonly found English title, Girl Blowing Soap Bubbles, is a portrait of innocence during the Franco-Dutch War.

The child shown is Louise-Marie de Bourbon, the daughter of the Sun King, Louis XIV, and his Maîtresse-en-titre, Françoise-Athénaïs de Rochechouart (Madame de Montespan). I'm sorry, I don't know why they popped off with the names like that when they're planning to reuse Marie and Louis fifty times over ptdr. Louise-Marie, affectionately known as Toutou, was an illegitimate birth (1674), later legitimized by her father when she was around two years old. She held the title of Mademoiselle de Tours from then until her untimely death in 1681.

According to sources, Mignard's painting of the six-year-old girl was finished posthumously. But, her innocence is held delicately, frozen in time on canvas.

THEMES OF CHILDHOOD INNOCENCE (TL;DR: YAPANESE)

Mignard's choice to paint Louise-Marie as an actual child was uncommon for the time (even centuries later, believe it or not; maybe not so good examples, but for argument-sake: Louis XV by Hyacinthe Rigaud, Mariana Victoria of Spain by Nicolas de Largillierre, Phillip II, Duke of Orléans, Reagent of France by Largillierre, and Élisabeth Charlotte d'Orléans, "Mademoiselle de Chartres" by Largillierre -- apologies for throwing you strays, man, I'm trying to finish writing this and your children portraits were on the same website next to each other x), as young royalty are painted either as babies (unbreeched/baptize gown) or as tiny adults (fixed in uncomfortable poses and wearing clothes a monarch would), no in between. Here, Louise-Marie is playing with bubbles, her dog jumping towards it, and she looks carefree, still with chubby cheeks of rose. It doesn't help much that children were seen as heirs to the family fortune, especially during a time when parents had multiple kids due to illness (premature death) and bringing in income (need I explain more... *cough cough* coal mines... a bit anachronistic, sorry breaker boys, some other time we'll discuss y'all).

A painting such as this one, showing a realistic human experience from a royal status and that of a child BEING a child, innocence still intact, is quite important, even in today's form. We take childhood for granted, and kids are forced to grow up despite having more rights now than before. It can be a portrait to remind us that innocence is vital (a lack of childhood is detrimental as the experience is needed in order to mature mentally and emotionally when entering the teen and adult stages of life), but also that we as humans weren't so different from back then (sure, you can claim we bathe more than they do despite your husband still not washing his ass, but my heavens, did the thought 'wait, they had bubbles back then' ever occur to you?).

Genuinely, I was going to pull a La Muse Verte (the post where I briefly explained the history of absinthe) and go into the history of bubbles... because you gotta admit, that'd be fun for the both of us. However, delving into the background and theme of this painting became more heartbreaking for me. The bubble idea isn't gone, but it'll be postponed as a full history lesson post (and, yes, Mignard's painting of the immortalized Toutou will be recycled).

FURTHER READING (EXTRA SYMBOLISTIC DETAIL)

Plenty more symbolism is present, but I highly recommend you all check out L'Art en Tête's in-depth article on Mignard's beautiful portrait. I did regurgitate some of the author's points in this because I thought they were brilliant, and you can tell they have an art-history degree, so I'm begging you to go over there for more detail if interested!

[mcflameprincess]

fontanges r so cute especially the little rat tail

[the-chomsky-hash]

[canisalbus]

Bas-relief on Charles Bridge in Prague.

Reminded me of Vasco

.

[cy-lindric]

One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons ; a natural perspective that is, and is not !

[genderkoolaid]

hey, friend 😊✨

i've been pondering a few... outdated terms? (slurs?) idk. my dad called me "a little fruity" (affectionately) and someone else referred to me as "an elegant fairy", both in reference to my queerness. i just haven't heard those terms often and am struggling to find history behind them. i know you're not a search engine, lol, so feel free to ignore this ask, but do you have any answers for me?

where did these terms come from? what do they really mean? (and are they reclaimed/can i use them joyfully? they're cute, to me, but i know that slurs can be a tricky thing)

thanks so much x

(anon I have multiple etymology apps on my phone dw this is exactly the kind of question I love answering)

A lot of queer slurs started as euphemisms, so you could imply someone was queer without having to say they fucked men/women/crossdressed/etc. Queer itself started that way, since it originally meant "weird" or "crooked" and could've been applied to a wide variety of strange people- but "inverts" most of all, at least in the US. Fruity also comes from this, as it originally meant "odd person" and eventually became associated with gay men specifically.

"Fairy" has similar origins to "gay," in that both are euphemisms based around being delicate and fanciful, which implies gay men/transfems (although "gay" has also long had negative sexual connotations & was also used to refer to female sex workers). I'm not Black so feel free to correct me on this, but I have heard "sweet" gets used in a similar way in AAVE.

If you want to call yourself fruity/a fairy, go ahead! From what I know they don't really have any more sting in them than "queer"; they have been used violently, but there's also a long history of queer people reclaiming these words and using them joyfully.

[folklouire]

Yᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ x Atlas holding up the celestial globe, Guercino (1646)

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

René-Antoine Houasse (1645-1710) "Story of Minerva - Dispute between Minerva and Neptune over the Naming of the City of Athens" (1696) Oil on canvas Located in the Château de Versailles, Versailles, France

[ringneckedpheasant]

trying to paint magdalene but i cannot for the life of me figure out how her dress is structured / how her headscarf is wrapped. like none of the examples i've found seem to match the cut/style. is it just how she’s stylized??? what am I missing 😭

[josephslittledeputy]

Celeste & Lucian during Cel's baby vamp era || Celeste & Wes sometime during the late '70s/early '80s || Sparrow & Endymion (She's not wearing her eyepatch that seals him in so he's tormenting her <333 He's actually quite fond of her ok) Lacy & her beloved husband, Owen, years ago || Lacy & her guard dog Zeke in the present (Preventing him from tearing someone up bc they looked at her wrong) || My beloved worst couple Sid & Sel <333

Kira Gallagher (TWD verses) Top Left: Teenage era, being a hellion || Top Right: Pre Zombie Apocalypse Bottom Left: Early Apocalypse, safe in shelter || Bottom Right: Present, post doing something that's necessary in the new world

Tagged by the lovely @carlosoliveiraa to do these cute picrews! 1 & 2

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @marivenah @alexxmason @henbased @simplegenius042 @inafieldofdaisies @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @clicheantagonist and anyone else who wants to participate! Sorry if you already have and I haven't seen it yet! It's been a while since I've been on here

[lady-harrowhark]

i feel like my brain is eating itself and i can't help that think a non-insignificant contributor is that i'm so fucking alone. like i see folks when i'm at work, but it's always in between their meetings.

i'm not particularly close with anyone in my program - there's one person i'd consider myself to be decent friends with, but she's recently gotten to be closer with some other folks in her lab and i know they spend a lot of time together, whereas i don't know if i've hung out with her since april. my one friend that i was actually pretty close with moved about two years ago and has a tendency to go radio silent for a few months before calling me during a meltdown. i've tried to arrange some social things lately but it keeps falling through on the other person's end.

one really bizarre dynamic in my program is that almost every student has a serious partner. 8 of the 10 in my cohort moved here with a partner, even. the other day i thought "i might be the only person i know in our program that's single" and then i went "no, that's ridiculous. that can't be possible." but i pulled up the grad student directory and went down the list, and of everyone i know well enough to know whether or not they have a partner, only two other people are single (and one of them is someone that i am not interested in spending time with). and to be clear, the issue here is not that i'm single. it's that nearly everyone i know has a go-to person to do things with, a default person to hang out with. and with everyone else doing their thing with their partners, i don't really have anyone to do things with on any sort of regular basis.

my best friends live 800 miles away. i'm not close with my family, and they're out of town anyway.

it's not that people don't like me. i know i'm well liked. people enjoy being around me, they appreciate when i'm there. i love helping my friends, and i know they're grateful for it. i'm a reliable, friendly addition to a given social setting. but i'm not a priority for anyone here.

no one's obligated to prioritize me. but i would really fucking appreciate it.

[conceptalbon]

galex, 1.2k words, golden age of piracy au

inspired by @boxboxlewis's pirate captain daniel from some time ago

The crew find him adrift at sea. He looks very much out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb and trying to row against the waves in a tiny boat. It would be funny, were he not half-dead with hunger and exhaustion. But that has always been George, hasn't it? A fighter 'til the end, determined to a fault.

He's in no state to fight four well-fed men at once, though. Alex takes care of his people, thank you very much. They grab George by the shoulders, search him for weapons. He still has a handkerchief with the Union fucking Jack stitched into it tucked into the pocket of his trousers. Lando almost guts him then and there, Alex barely has the time to yell at him to keep his fucking hands to himself. He hasn't seen George for almost a decade, but if he's anything like he was in his teens, he must be the biggest fanboy queen Anne has ever had. Which explains the handkerchief, but can also be a fucking death sentence in these waters. Pirates don't really take kindly to the British crown these days.

His frilly linen shirt is ripped at the collar, but he doesn't seem to have any life-threatening injuries. Alex intends to keep it that way while George is on his ship, at least.

"He's worth more alive, Lando. Not a fucking hair falls off his head without my permission, capisce?" There's no way he loses George forty seconds after getting him back. "Surely there's someone back in London ready to pay a pretty penny for your safe return, eh, posh boy?"

Alex isn't sure if Lord Russel is still the Admiral of the Royal Navy, but even if he isn't, he will do almost anything to get his boy back. That Alex knows.

George's head turns to him slowly, his eyes red-rimmed and muscles weak. There's a spark of recognition on his face, but before he can say anything Alex orders, loud and blunt. "Put him in my quarters. There's not much free space on the Bull, and I want to look after him myself." He grins in a way he hopes looks menacing.

The sheets on Alex's bed aren't even remotely close to what George is probably used to, rough and stained from months at sea. His skin is pale enough to almost blend in with them, and the bruises around his eyes look even harsher in the dim light of the captain's quarters. As soon as Lando and Pierre lower him onto the mattress, he's out like a light. When they were at the Academy, he was always the first one to fall asleep, too. It's funny how some things don't really change.

Yuki is ecstatic to have an excuse to work on something besides their usual fucking rations. George is lucky they found him only a few weeks into their journey, because when Alex walks into the galley he's greeted by the smell of an honest-to-God stew. With some proper spices in it even, something Pierre picked up on a Dutch merchant ship two months ago. When he tells Yuki some random prisoner isn't really worth trying that hard, all he gets in return is a single too-knowing smile.

None of the others seem to pick up on anything though, maybe only that Alex is more restless than usual throughout the day. He snaps at Daniel, who has spent the better part of the morning trying to mend a huge rip in their old sails and failing miserably. He's good at that, sewing and fabrics and whatnot. Fashioned them a new flag some time ago, two bulls in front a bright yellow sun. Pierre despises it, says it reminds him of old captain Christian too much. Alex doesn't really mind it. Hopes Christian is happy in his retirement. Also hopes to never fucking see him again.

When George finally wakes up, well into the evening, he's greeted by a bowl of reheated stew and a poorly hidden look of concern on Alex's face. Even in this miserable state, he's still just as beautiful as he was when Alex left him.

"Blimey, the Heavens sure know how to play a joke on me, huh?" His voice is hoarse and the words sound like they hurt. He sits up, winces. Takes the spoon from Alex's hands.

Alex is suddenly very angry. "What the fuck are you doing here? You got a deathwish or something?"

George is meant for the safety of London. Sitting in some general's headquarters, rising up the ranks, maybe fighting the Dutch once in a while at the very worst. He's not supposed to be alone in the middle of the Atlantic fucking ocean, getting picked up by Alex's crew two weeks after they leave the Bahamas. If he died from, like, malnutrition or Lando's sword or something, Alex would throw himself into the sea.

"Didn't really care for the Navy after you left." It sounds nonsensical. George has always passed all of their exams with flying fucking colours, the bright future with the Royal Fleet all but guaranteed for him, being his father's son and all. It was Alex who couldn't really give two fucks about the Academy, the King or the Navy. "Hated the whole court thing, too. London and the fancy lot of them. Was very boring without you. And then, uh- And then father decided I had to marry, so. I ran."

Alex knows the feeling. When he left at seventeen, there was nothing he wanted more than to get away from fucking London. Well, besides George. But he has always wanted George, and he has always known he could not have him, not in any way that matters. There was no place in London for Alex besides George's embrace, and no place in the world for George besides London.

"So you decided to go to America in a fucking rowboat?" Alex needs time to process.

"Don't be stupid, Alexander. I sailed with a merchant ship under a fake name, I'm not insane." It sounds like the most insane thing George has ever done, actually. "Got caught by a hurricane a few days after we left Haiti."

None of what he's saying makes any sense and Alex doesn't really know what to answer, so he stays silent. Watches George eat his fucking stew. He didn't think he would ever see him again. He wants to grab him, shake him until he gets some sense back into him, wants to topple him back to the bed and kiss him senseless like he did eleven years ago. He thinks he forfeited that right when he chose the freedom of Christian's ship over the suffocating warmth of George's bed.

He leaves the room with an empty bowl and goes back to the deck. The waves look black in the evening light. Pierre is sitting with his back against a mast, singing to himself softly, sharpening his cutlass. Daniel and Lando are playing cards, their laughter and curses cutting through the salty air. Sebastian is nowhere in sight. Alex has no idea how he's going to explain to any of them why they are suddenly changing course tomorrow and why they are now tasked with delivering this strange prisoner to the colonies safely. He hopes they don't mutiny against his ass. God be with him.