#art deco period

[butterlaneantiques]

Art Deco 1920-1935

The Art Deco period was 1920-1935 and got its name from the International Exposition Of Modern Decorative And Industrial Arts, held in Paris in 1925. This era is known for jazz, flapper necklaces, headbands, tassels and a decade that heralded the liberation of women.

The trend in rings was towards larger more statement type rings. Often featuring a large central gemstone surrounded by diamonds

 Brooches remained very popular throughout the Art Deco period. With brooches even being used on hats and to hold feathers in place. Dress clips that could combine to form a brooch were also quite popular

As a well known style across the world, the Art Deco movement also influenced various other aspects of design. Its influence can be seen in interior design, architecture, industrial design, cinema and fashion, graphic arts. 

(source: butterlaneantiques.com)

#art deco #art deco jewelry #art deco period #art deco fashion #art deco style #butter lane antiques

[teasetsotw]

--- Designer/Manufacturer: Kazimir Malevich [X] Region: USSR Time period: 1920

#tea #tea set #teapot #teacup #1920s #art deco #I mean #I dunno if its strictly art deco technically #but same vibe same time period #queueteas

[mrhoochiekoo]

[eyemarchshelby]

You're so Art Deco💎✨

-Lana del Rey

Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Shelby (née Stark)

#lizzie shelby #lizzie stark #natasha o'keeffe #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #lana del rey #lana is our queen #art deco #tommy x lizzie #peaky fookin blinders #lizzie is our queen #lizzie is a goddess #Shelby #lana del ray aesthetic #cinematic #periodic beauty #badass queen

[vanishingsydney]

Great Depression era art deco apartment building in the "P&O Style". Four identical units only. Marrickville.

#art deco #Great Depression #1930's #vintage #apartment building #inter war period architecture #P&O style #streetscape #facade #classic #sydney red brick #inner west sydney

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 20, 20 mai 1923, Paris. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney  

#La Mode illustrée #20th century #1920s #1923 #periodical #fashion #cover #fashion plate #retouch #color #Forney #dress #art deco

[estarioll]

a 19th century dutch house turned into a charming restaurant 

#19 century #house #interior #kind of #art deco #arts and crafts #beaux arts #dutch #not sure of the exact period also because of the changes on the interior but the house seems to be built in the 1800s #stained glass #crafts #restaurant #leiden #netherlands

[antimonyantigone]

ghost Maruyama Okyo（1733-1795）

#edo #edo period art #ghost #yurei deco #maruyama okyo #japanese art #asian art #1700s art #q

[phoenixcinema]

The End of the Affair, 1999, dir. Neil Jordan Filmed at The Phoenix Cinema, London

#neil jordan #the end of the affair #phoenix cinema #graham greene #ralph fiennes #cinema auditorium #vintage movie theater #movie theater #period drama #london #1940s #film screening #art deco #art deco cinema #old movie theater #shotatthephoenix #90s films #romance #romantic films

[souvboa]

Poster Oldies_How I did it by Souv Boa Via Flickr: For the realization of this poster, it is mainly a work of cutting, assembly and composition of the whole. Thereafter, I adjusted the overall harmony by playing on the colors, shades, shading, transparency. I also tried, without really being sure to have succeeded, to give the final set, a global touch to try to age the poster, its paper and to intentionally dirty it a little. Although I have many pictures of my avatar in costume, I had fun borrowing the one of a character I had generated by AI, some time before. The costume seems to have been made especially for me. Just kidding, the AI generated model was based on my character beforehand. In the spirit of narcissism, I added my name to the vinyl, choosing a font that was used extensively during the prohibition period and also during the Art & Deco wave. The final result is worth what it is worth, but I had a lot of fun making it. I hope you will enjoy it and be inspired to make your own work with this technique which is actually quite easy to do.

#poster creation #cutting #assembly #composition #overall harmony #colors #shades #shading #transparency #aging #paper #intentional dirt #avatar #AI-generated character #narcissism #name on vinyl #font #prohibition period #Art Deco #fun #inspiration #technique #flickr

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

Jessie Matthews (Evergreen, First a Girl, It's Love Again, Gangway)—known as “the dancing divinity”, jessie matthews was a british musical star of stage and screen in the 20s and 30s - if you're an enjoyer of lavish art deco musicals of the likes of fred and ginger, busby berkeley etc, definitely give her movies a try they are delightful! (tantalizingly there were multiple attempts made to pair her and fred together that never came to fruition - gaumont-british tried to get fred for evergreen and mgm wanted jessie for a damsel in distress.) and for the women in tuxedos enjoyers, her 1935 movie first a girl was the first english language remake of viktor und viktoria, famously later remade with julie andrews.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Jessie Matthews:

Star of British 1930s stage and screen, she introduced classic songs by Noel Coward and Rogers and Hart to English audiences, and then played perky heroines, but today it’s her genderswapping role in First A Girl that probably gets most attention.

#katharine hepburn #jessie matthews #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3 #Youtube

[stevenose]

☾₊ ⊹ reaching for the moon (18+)

pairing: steve x fem!reader with afab anatomy

contains: smut and a dumb amount of world building that was not necessary for this. set in 30s nyc, no hawkins. old money!steve; husband!steve; art historian!steve; not rich whatsoever!reader; they’re married your honor; steve’s parents (they’re the worst <3); slut shaming; allusions to bisexual steve; brief homophobia; soft!steve!!! he’s so damn soft!!!!; period typical everything lol

you might want to know: steve smokes and reader takes a drag; heated arguments which lead to some implied homophobia; reader wears an evening gown with a corset; car sex (info on said car here, for clarity sake)

author’s note: this is very heavily inspired by titanic 1997 (obviously) because it’s been rotting my brain. it’s very self indulgent but i’m hoping others like it!!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s always the same. A party, an invitation in the mail, embossed with gold foil. Steve fuming because they could have walked over instead of paying for postage, or called him on the telephone. Each time both of you thinking it’ll be different, each time leaving with Steve’s wounded ego or anger levels at an all time high. You don’t know why you torture yourselves other than the fact that his mother will make a tremendous deal out of it when you don’t show up. She’s not above telling guests gossip of your marriage when you’re not around, just so it can get back to you and hurt you again.

Your issue lies with both of them. Steve’s issue lies with his father. Old, rich, stupid. Too well-known for being a lawyer for companies that should be shuttered and closed for violations and accidents. A union buster. And Steve’s biggest critic.

He never wants to hear about Steve’s studies or projects. His mind appears to me hyper-focused on Steve’s shortfalls - no military experience, no investments, married to a poor girl he met at a bar in Manhattan. Steve is everything his father detests, and vice verse.

To his credit, Steve tries, even when he doesn’t want to. He talks to his mother first while she stares at you like you’re venomous. She’s good at reeling in her disappointment. Steve’s her only child and you figure she doesn’t want to lose that. His father, on the other hand, is closer to Steve’s cousins - successors of big oil, engineers, military men.

You smile at her while Steve tells her about his recent trip to Florence, about the chapels and art. You’re wearing her diamonds around her neck. You know she wants to strike them from you. You’d say you clean up well, wearing one of the tens of dresses Steve’s purchased for you, custom made and tailored. Satin and lace and silk, only the finest. His mother thinks she can still smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on you. She detests your miserable background, how unladylike and uneducated you are, that you’ve worked where women shouldn’t and have done things she’d consider unforgivable sin.

“They’d mix pigments with egg -“

“Egg?”

“Right, yes, they called it tempura. And the pigments - Jesus, should’ve been there to see Giotto’s blue, so rich and -“

“Are you talking about those paintings again?”

Steve tenses and turns to face his father. Your face falls slightly.

“I am.”

“How much was that trip, anyway?” his father presses. He gives you a wink as if you’re in on the joke. “Certainly more than your engagement ring?”

You clench your fist within its satin glove. The gold, Art Deco band digs into your ring finger. Steve’s jaw tenses.

“Not a penny more,” he says cooly. He adjusts his suit coat. His adams apple bobs under the stark white collar of his shirt. “Not that it’d matter, right?”

And Steve’s now doing your favorite thing, where he’ll pretend he actually agrees with his parent’s ridiculous world views until they pick up on the sarcasm. Your eyes meet and the corner of your mouth lifts slightly, but you’re back to being stone faced a moment later.

“Of course not!” his father bellows, hitting Steve on the shoulder like he’s a long time friend and not his son. He looks at you now. For reasons unexplained, his father likes you. Probably for some perverted reason, you figure. “And how’d you fare without him at home?”

“Probably enjoyed company downtown,” his mother says.

“I did.” You look at Steve again, speaking to him with a language only you two understand. It’s okay. “Don’t worry. I hardly had ten glasses of beer.”

His father laughs loudly again, making guests crane their necks to look. His mother narrows her eyes at you but smiles curtly.

“How wonderful.”

“And you’re all right with him going off overseas?” his father presses. “To go look at crumbling paintings and enjoy boat rides in that dirty canal?”

“Not any dirtier than the city, I’m sure,” you say, now taking Steve’s arm in yours. His jaw is set. “Besides, I like hearing about what he’s seen.”

“Pity he couldn’t take you with him,” his father continues. “Surely there’s a reason for that?”

You tighten your grip on Steve to remind him to not talk. “I’d be too distracting, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” his mother says.

“Not as distracting as your friends’ headlines, though,” Steve says suddenly. “I heard about your latest union bust. How many fatalities did the factory have? Ten? How noble of you to save them from equity.”

You bite your cheek and squeeze his arm again. His father’s mouth twists like he’s tasted something sour.

“Steven,” his mother lulls, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. It’s the only thing you both have in common, trying to keep him cool and calm. It never works.

“And who’d you hear it from if not me?” His father’s tone has shifted. It feels suffocating in the small circle you stand in. “Oh, those dirty men you fraternize with.”

His father’s preoccupation with dirty things is ironic.

“Did they accompany you to Italy as well?” He looks at you now, eyes boring into yours. “Did you happen to see the Statue of David? I heard Michelangelo had an interest in the bodies of men.”

You can feel the heat radiating off of Steve, the implication making him see red.

“Ah, of course, yet another thing you’d rather refuse to understand than empathize with.”

“We should -“

“I’d love to talk to you about sexuality, actually, father. How many half-brothers do I have again?”

His mother looks like she might faint, but his father smirks. It’s as if he lives for arguments with his son. Loves seeing how far he can push him, for no other reason but to be a bastard. It might be the only time he’s ever fond of Steve.

“We’ll get going,” you say weakly, tugging Steve along, and he’s happy as long as he has the last word. “Always a pleasure.”

“You’d know much about pleasure and vices, wouldn’t you?”

It’s the first time John Harrington has ever made a verbal slight towards you. You pause, just barely, and continue moving, but Steve whips around, eyes wild. “I’m sorry?”

His voice is rigid and loud. Guests crane their necks again but this time, they keep staring. You and his mother both grit out “Steve,” but he strides towards his father. You fear he might actually strike him, so you lunge forward, putting your arm between them.

“Surely something we have in common, then, Mr. Harrington.” You glance up at Steve, his jaw clenching and unclenching, face red. “Good night.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s cool outside. There are people on leisurely walks despite it nearly being so late. Steve’s still fuming beside you, toned arms flexing underneath his suit coat. He’s mumbling under his breath, then quickly whips around, heading back towards the door.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” you beg, grabbing onto his forearm. “Let’s leave it.”

“How?” he huffs. “How can I leave it? He was - he was - awful to you!”

“And he’s awful to you, too. What else is new?” You tug him, beckoning him with pleading eyes. “Follow me.”

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head as he looks at you. He’s still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly, but all it takes is another little please? and he’s sighing, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter as he follows you.

"The garage?” he asks, the white building coming into view. A billowing cloud of smoke follows. “What on earth do you want in there?”

You rip your gloves off and flex your fingers. “Indulge me.” You bump his hip with yours, trying to get him to smile.

Steve chuckles, easing up slightly, flicking the ash of his cigarette. "I don't know if committing vandalism is going to make me feel better this time."

“We aren’t vandalizing anything,” you promise. You reach for his hand and take a deep inhale of his tobacco. A needed stress reliever.

Steve seems a bit more giddy as you approach his father’s security detail. Steve’s known him since he was a boy. All he has to do is give a salute and a smile and you’re inside of the garage, door locked behind you, alone now with at least a dozen collectible cars and carriages.

"What do you have in mind, then?” he asks, leaning against the door. “Maybe we can use your heels to carve out some paint."

You step forward, taking the cigarette and throwing it on the ground before stomping it out with your shoe. You lean against him, hands pressed against his chest as you straighten his shirt. You’re looking at his neck as you speak. “Your father seems to think I’m somewhat of a whore.”

You don’t mean for him to get mad again, though it’s delicious when he is. “My father doesn’t have a clue -“

You interrupt, “So I reckon we make me one.”

His eyes widen, cheeks blooming red. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," you hum, and press your lips to his. He grabs you around the waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hidden by the satin and lace of your dress. Your lipstick smears as you move to the corner of his lips, then the stubble on his jaw, then up to the shell of his ear. "Pick a car and take me in it.”

“You - hold on,” he forces out, grip tight on you. “You aren’t a - a whore.” He says it like it’s scandalous, the worst word that could be uttered from his lips. It’s been thrown at him before, too. “You know that, right?”

You look up at him through your lashes. You can feel him starting to harden against your thigh. “Would it be such a bad thing if I was your whore?”

He swallows hard. “Do- do you want to be?”

You smile. “Pick a car before someone finds us.”

"Um." Steve forces his eyes open to look around. You begin unbuttoning his shirt while sucking a bruise into the delicate skin by his throat. He swallows hard. "Uh, the - the Renault.”

Your lips leave his neck so you can follow his gaze. You don’t know much about his father’s insane car collection, but you’ve always liked this one. Powder blue, gold accents. It’s like an upgraded horse and buggy, a large, enclosed carriage in the back with a bench for a driver at the front. It’s not very old, maybe twenty years, but it’s valuable and big and shiny and something his father prizes more than anything, including his own son.

“Plenty of leg room,” he explains sheepishly, and you smile, pulling him towards it. “Now, wait - wait - what’s the plan here?”

He’s so dense sometimes, but it’s because he wakes up everyday in disbelief that you’re laying next to him. The idea of undressing you and touching you seems so far fetched that many times he’s had to stop and think about it before engaging.

“The plan,” you say, swinging the door open and shoving him inside playfully, “is for you to have your way with me. And quickly, darling, we don’t have much time.”

Steve half-sits, half-lays down on the large bench, watching you as you duck inside and shut the door. He watches you with wide, adoring eyes as you climb on top of him, taking his hand gently. You pull it to your lips, kissing the pads of his fingers while he watches you intensely. When you look up at him, your stomach flips.

“My way with you,” he says evenly, “is to treat you like the angel you are.”

You smile and lay his hand gently on your chest. “Show me.”

His lips connect with yours softly. Despite the rush you’re both in, he still wants - needs - to take his time with you. He hikes your dress up as he kisses you, big hands caressing your thighs and ass. He sighs happily, pushing you down enough that you catch on the front of his dress pants, his cock pressing against your core. You gasp and giggle. “Excited?”

“As ever,” he promises.

You hold yourself up with a hand while the other struggles with the belt and buttons of his pants. He kisses down your neck, hot, open-mouthed. He latches on to a certain spot and you moan, breathing heavily into his hair.

“Need some help?” he murmurs, noticing your pause.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes closing as he continues kissing along your exposed collarbone. You should be careful with your dress, taking it off and hanging it up, but Steve will just buy you another one. And another one. And another one. Anything your heart desires. Rich silk from Egypt, lace from Italy, hand embroidered and luscious against your skin. His life’s purpose seems to spoil you, as intended right now.

Steve finally frees himself, but you don’t have any time to stare. He’s quick to change places with you, laying you down on your back, pushing your dress and underskirt up. The material and color on your skin make him blush and growl lowly. The sliver of your corset that’s showing has him growing hard, too. They’re not always so comfortable for you, so you tend to wear them only on special occasions. And he’s keen on devouring you in only it after.

Neither of you are really expecting him to dive head-first between your legs, but you would never complain. His wet, warm tongue laves up your folds a few times before finally plunging in between them. You gasp and grab onto the seat, knuckles growing white. “Steve!” you cry, a hand curling into his hair, tugging on it.

“Worship you,” he mumbles into your skin, before forcing himself to pull back, chin slick. “I worship you.”

Your heart pounds. You’re at a loss. So lucky that you cannot possibly verbalize it.

Steve leans right back in, taking his sweet, non-existent time. “I- I hate to re-remind you, sweetheart,” you moan, fingers curling again, “but a-anyone could h-have! Have seen us com-coming in here.”

He hums, your back arching. He’s reluctant to pull away, but he finally does, coming back up to perch a knee on the seat below you. He’s quick to roll his sleeves up, muscled and toned forearms on view. Then he rubs his cock along your folds, both of you moaning. You tug at his shirt, now not so pristine, pulling him down to face you.

“Isn’t the idea to ruin the car?” he asks, smiling a little smug.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve got to make a proper mess of you, don’t I?”

You burn. “You already have me melting.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what else I can do.”

When he pushes into you, it’s like the world stops. The only thing that matters is him above you. His hair tickling your forehead, eyes hazy and hooded, lip caught between his teeth. “Honey,” he groans, pulling a leg up over his hips to open you up, give him more access. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh and he shivers at it. He always makes love like it’s the first time you’ve been together. Even during this quick romp, he’s taking his time, hearts in his eyes. “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. He slides in a little further. You wince and he kisses you gently, fingers moving towards your clit to take your mind off of it.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “So. God. Damn. Much.”

He’s sheathed fully in you now, both of you panting, sweating. The car’s windows are fogged. You can’t keep your lips off of each other as he sets his pace, languid and long, filling you up so completely it numbs your mind. Each thrust makes you gasp. His whines are low, but slowly become more high-pitched as he thrusts into you.

“Give yourself to me,” you whisper. “All of you.”

He would never deny you that.

Hips picking up, his thrusts get harsher. He’s chasing your high and his. Chasing away the thoughts of his father and his mother, of work, of anything except you. You, his angel, his promise that not all things in the world are so bad. Not when you’re with him. And certainly not when you’re writhing under him, your dress pulled taught over your tits, your lipstick smudged, mascara running.

Over and over and over, the thinks, The Divine is real. The Divine is real.

Your eyes catch as he’s pulled away to look at you. He’s soft, despite his thrusts. “I love you,” he groans. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching for his face, cradling it. “My world.”

“My muse,” he moans, twitching within you, handsome face twisted in pleasure. His fingers work steadily on your clit and you reach up for your breasts, wishing desperately that you were wearing a nightgown instead. One that Steve likes, all pastel pink and blue, a ribbon of purple silk on the waist. It’s much less restricting and much more revealing. We can always continue at home, you think, your stomach tightening.

“You are….” you pant, eyes rolling back, leg tightening around his hips. “You are more th-than enough.”

His trusts slow. “As are you.”

“Sweet boy,” you laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips towards him. “Please keep going.”

“Oh!” he says, genuinely shocked, like he was truly so lost in your words that he forgot what he was doing. “S-sorry.”

“Just wa-want to show you how much I - how much I love you.”

“You show me,” he promises. “E-every. Day. And - and at these stupid p… oh, Christ - these parties.” His hips angle up towards your sweet spot and you’re gone, unable to hold back, brows marrying and face tightening in a lewd show of pleasure.

“Steve!” you moan, so loud you’re sure anyone walking by could hear. His hips move furiously and you have to reach up with your hand to steady yourself, making a handprint on the window. “Oh, my God!”

“Now it’s time to show you,” he groans, and his lips are back on yours. Half to consume you, overwhelmed with love and lust, and half to keep you quiet. You all but scream into his mouth, hand sliding off the window to clutch his shoulders while he works you into oblivion. “Close,” he chokes, a hand once again cradling your cheek. “With me now.”

You pant into each other as you cum, the car filled with sex and sweat and your crass noises. So unladylike, so perverse. You giggle mid-orgasm at the thought of his mother walking in on such a thing. A son raised as a level below royalty fucking his street-rat wife into a stupor, all in a thousand dollar car, would make her heart stop.

“What’s - so - funny?” Steve pants eventually, resting his head on your chest, his cock softening inside of you.

“Nothin’,” you promise, combing his hair with your fingers. “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me out,” he smiles.

You shake your head. “Tell you later. We should -“

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, pushing off of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

“You’re trembling,” you frown, reaching for him.

“I’m alright,” he promises, taking your hand and kissing it. “I’m happy.”

“So am I.”

He helps you fix yourself and slips your feet into your shoes for you, a kiss pressed into your knee. It turns into another, then another, and then his lips are creeping up your thigh.

“Stevie,” you whisper, the pet name making him blush. “Let’s finish at home.”

“Home,” he sighs dreamily. “Sounds wonderful.”

You’re proud of the stain left on the leather as you get up, your dress falling back down to your ankles. His father won’t check this car for weeks, if not months. You hope it’s fully ruined by then. But, for good measure, you let your heel scrape the paint on the way out.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #ns/fw #stevenose posts

[alicenpai]

Baccano rewired my 14 year old brain fr (true story) 🍾🗽🚂💰🔫

i made a sticker sheet for one of my favourite animes ever, for anime north 2023 this month! One of the drawings I did for my first ever con was Baccano, so I wanted to pay tribute. It makes me overjoyed the fandom is alive and kicking in 2023. if you can’t get to AN and you want the sticker sheet, keep an eye out this summer for my online shop!!

A lot of the media I first experienced when I was a teen was so formative for me as an artist, Baccano was one of them - and I love inputting vintage aesthetics in my art whenever possible (unfortunately not possible half of the time). I've watched the anime many times, and I'm almost done the 1st book, unfortunately I learned theres 22 other books (DW voice: I can't read!!! 💔) Planning this sheet took a LOT of work - each individual sticker composition, trashing and reworking sketches, research and visual reference, drawing inspiration from the art nouveau and art deco periods, as well as film noir era posters. 

There were countless times where I regretted my choices and thought, "Oh man, why did I do this to myself?! I think I should have drawn chibis of the characters instead!!". Planning and drawing this took so long that I couldn’t envision it being complete for my deadline. But with the power of god and anime I pulled through. I'm quite happy I went with this more graphic design approach! I definitely want to try more graphic design stuff in the future, it’s a lot of fun 🤔🤔

I ended up with a completely NEW pinterest board of 125 art deco related pins over the course of drawing this... help

the flames in the “The Grand Panacea” poster were inspired by these two posters

#baccano! #baccano #anime north 2023 #anime north #isaac and miria #czeslaw meyer #claire stanfield #graham specter #eve genoard #my art #ill post this on twit closer to the con bc posts die so fast there.. #THANK YOU FOR LOVING BACCANO IN 2023 #i draw a lot of old/niche stuff bc i think fandoms come and go too fast :( #like ive never been an 'anime of the week' kind of person but wow i wish fandoms would last a bit longer? am i old????????? #in the past i found that interest waned so fast for certain series. and in the following year it was so difficult to pawn off the leftovers

[queenofinys]

musical theatre challenge: 1/3 costumes | amalia balash in she loves me (2016) 

"SHE LOVES ME was set in the 1930s, which was a period in fashion with a stylish signature. I referenced fashion designers Elsa Schaiparelli and Madeleine Vionnet, whose designs dominated the look of the decade, and contrasted those images with actual photographs of the time to give a feeling of idealized realism and then accented with Art Deco architecture." — Jeff Mahshie, costume designer

#she loves me #laura benanti #theatreedit #broadwayedit #musicaltheatreedit #musical theatre #broadway #theatre #*mtc #maya edits #i want her clothes

[uwmspeccoll]

Decorative Plates

It's been awhile since we last posted something on the theme of the decorative arts, so I'm happy to have found this book—especially because it was mis-shelved in the stacks! This book is House and Garden's Book of Color Schemes, which contains "over two hundred color schemes and three hundred illustrations of halls, living rooms, dining rooms, bed chambers, sun rooms, roofs, garden rooms, kitchens and baths; the characteristic colors of each decorative period; how to select a color scheme, with unusual treatments for painted furniture and floors; a portfolio of crystal rooms and eight pages of unusual interiors in color." It was edited by long-time editor of House & Garden Richardson Wright (1887-1961) and Margaret McElroy, associate editor, and published by Condé Nast Publications, Inc. in 1929.

The book includes a large number of photographs of rooms, however, they are mostly in black and white—an unfortunate thing for a book about color! The promised eight color illustrations of rooms are not all present in our copy, but the five that are still in the book are shown here, alongside some of their black and white compatriots. I especially love the one titled "Tawny Yellow in Variety" that features a shocking amount of leopard print.

If you've read any of the posts I usually write, you know that I love a good binding—this one is a publisher's binding in a chartreuse-y yellow book cloth with art deco-style silver tooling featuring stars and leaves. Somebody took it upon themselves to write the publication date on the cover above the title—how thoughtful!

View more posts featuring Decorative Plates.

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

#Decorative Sunday #Decorative Plates #decorative arts #House and Garden's Book of Color Schemes #color schemes #color #decoration #home decor #interior decorating #Richardson Wright #Margaret McElroy #Conde Nast #Conde Nast Publications #art deco #chartreuse #Publishers' bindings

[vanishingsydney]

Unusual former art deco church right down to the leadlight windows, built during the inter-war years. Denomination unknown. Now a child care centre. Leichhardt.

#old church #art deco #vintage #facade #streetscape #inter war period architecture #1919-1939 #unusual #leadlight #windows #child care #inner west sydney