#Interior Painting Madison

[thepainterladyusa]

We are a painting company in Madison that specializes in Interior Painting Services. We offer a variety of colors and products to meet your custom needs, so you can get the exact look you want for your home or office. What sets us apart from other painting companies is our commitment to customer service and making sure our customers are 100% satisfied with the end product.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Dodge M4S Turbo Interceptor

One of four ever manufactured

The Dodge M4S is an American high performance prototype sports coupe originally engineered, designed, and built by Dodge in 1981 as a technology demonstrator vehicle. It was designed by then chief designer of Dodge, Bob Ackerman. The designation M4S denotes "Midengine, 4 cylinder, Sport“. From its conception, the car was intended to be built as a fully engineered running prototype rather than as a display piece. Because it was intended to be used as a pace car, it was designed to reach a top speed of 200 mph (322 km/h).

Chrysler designed the body and conducted extensive wind tunnel testing to achieve a drag coefficient of .236. Although the car was designed by Chrysler, actual construction of the vehicle was handled by subcontractors. The semi monocoque race car chassis was ordered from Huffaker of California. 3-D Industries of Madison Heights, Michigan modeled the body and created molds. Special Projects, Inc. of Plymouth, Michigan cast the body panels, assembled the body and interior, and gave the car its signature “root beer brown” paint color by painting layers of pearl over a black base coat. Specialized Vehicles, Inc., of Troy, Michigan handled fabrication, final assembly, and maintenance of the completed car.

The car was made famous by its appearance in The Wraith, a 1986 supernatural film. The mid-engined car had a tested and confirmed top speed of 194.8 mph (313.5 km/h)[1] and could go from 0 to 60 mph (97 km/h) in 4.1 seconds, with more than 440 hp (328 kW) under the hood coming from its relatively small displacement of 2.2L 4 cylinder forced induction engine.

The car has since gained an enthusiast cult following, prompted by the fame it gained from appearing in The Wraith.

The Wraith

In the town of Brooks, Arizona, Packard Walsh, the leader of a gang of car thieves, coerces people with fast cars into racing with the winner of the race taking ownership of the loser's car. Packard controls everyone through intimidation including Keri Johnson, whom he views as his property. Keri's boyfriend, Jamie Hankins, was the victim of an unsolved murder and Keri, who was with him, has no memory of the traumatic event.

Jake Kesey arrives in Brooks riding a dirt bike. He befriends Billy Hankins (Jamie's brother) and Keri. While swimming at a river, Jake is shown to have knife scars on his neck and back.

Packard's control of the illegal races comes to an end when an all-black Dodge M4S Turbo Interceptor supercar appears with a driver covered head-to-toe in black body armor and helmet, and metal braces resembling those worn by victims of physical trauma. The driver challenges Packard's gang to a race, ending in high-speed, explosive crashes in which two gang members are both killed. Their bodies appear unharmed afterwards except for burned-out eye sockets. The Turbo Interceptor then reconstructs itself and eludes the pursuing Sheriff Loomis in a cloud of glowing light.

Two more gang members, Skank and Gutterboy, are killed when the Turbo Interceptor races through the gang's warehouse, causing an explosion. With Packard's gang mostly gone, Rughead, the gang's tech-geek, figures out why the gang had been targeted. When Loomis arrives at the scene of the destruction, Rughead tells him Packard and his gang had murdered Jamie Hankins.

After Packard witnesses Keri kissing Jake, he kidnaps her and beats up Billy when he tries to intervene. When Packard tries driving to California, Keri resists. As he exits the car and pulls a knife on her, the Turbo Interceptor arrives and challenges Packard to a race. Packard accepts and is then killed in an explosive head-on collision with the Turbo Interceptor, like the rest of his gang were. Loomis calls off the hunt for the mysterious driver, believing it to be futile.

As Keri arrives home that night, the Turbo Interceptor pulls up and Jake emerges. Keri realizes that Jake is a revived form of her dead boyfriend Jamie, who had returned for a chance to rekindle their past relationship. He then asks her to wait for him because he has one last thing to do. Jake then gives his car to Billy. When Billy asks who he is Jake says that Billy already knows and as he rides off on his dirt bike, Billy realizes Jake is Jamie. Jake picks up Keri, whom Loomis is watching from a distance. Together they ride off along the desert highway into the moonlight.

The Walter Chrysler Museum's Amazing Cars Collection

[fandom-space-princess]

Keep Your Victory (But Give Me Little Death)

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Pairing: Michael/Sam Winchester Length: 6.3k Other tags: canon compatible but not necessarily canon compliant, you can't prove to me this didn't happen, Madison!Michael, She/Her Pronouns for Michael, this is sort of michifer-adjacent but not really, in that michael and sam are both just weird about lucifer, they're not talking about that but. it's there., Oral Sex, Dream Sex

Summary:

“You fear to touch me,” Michael spoke lowly, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Something like that.” “Do you imagine that you could spoil me? Are you so assured of your own inherent capacity for corruption, or have you so badly misapprehended my own vulnerability? No. I don’t believe either of these can be the case.” “You know,” he said. “You already know.” “Sam,” she replied. He heard patience in it, which was not softness but could have been mistaken for it. And something else, too, for which he had no name but thought might be reflective of her own, private emotions. “I desire to meet you where you are. I would have reciprocity in this. I am—” She faltered. “I’m unused to the nuances of physicality. Your mind supplies many of them, but if we are to understand each other, your passive desire is not enough. I require your active cooperation. Do I have it?”

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“I admit, Sam, I’m intrigued,” said the night, seeping in past his curtains. The stars were in that voice, and the void. “You have some idea, now, what is required of you. And still, you pray.” 

Sam became aware that he was in a bed, familiar only for the sense that he’d slept in a thousand so like it as to be indistinguishable. Stained blankets, threadbare sheets. A bed that was not a bed, but a representation of archetype. Archetypal walls, too, shedding flakes of old paint, and grimy carpet clinging to the distant memory of beige. The dream of a motel room, then. Not as specific place, but as ethos.  

He had the sense that he’d awoken; he knew he was not awake.  

The night spoke again. 

“You invoke my Father. You seek exemption from your place among His plans. You will tell me why.” 

The night took form. There was darkness and potential, and then there was a face: sharp, pale, and beloved, haloed in ashen curls.  

What Sam wanted to say to her was: “I missed you.” Or: “I’m dreaming.” Or simply to call her by her name, to reach for her and kiss the word “Jessica” into her open palms until his lips remembered the texture of her skin. But what he choked out instead, shrinking from the memory of two nights past when her face had evaporated away to reveal the nightmare underneath, was: “No.” 

The creature who was not Jess raised an eyebrow. “You fear me,” she said.  

Sam propped himself up on his hands, blankets puddling in his lap. “I told you, it’s never going to happen.” He enunciated his words with care, watching her eyes, cornered prey tracking a predator. “I’ll never say yes to you.”  

The creature that was not Jessica Moore didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, but at his words, a subtle shift in the tension of her muscles changed the way she held herself. Her chin tilted up, and she gazed at him along the bridge of her nose. “Ah. You believe me to be my Brother. Not unexpected, I suppose: he hears your prayers as well as I do. He has visited you, then.” She studied him. “And worn this image, as well.” 

His eyebrows furrowed together. “You... you’re not Lucifer.” 

This earned him the ghost of a smile. “Correct.” 

“Then what...?” 

It was odd, her presence in this room. Sam realized what had been bothering him since the moment of her appearance. It was the way she held herself, broad-shouldered and rigid. Lucifer had been all fluid grace, both as Jess and after, her movements deliberate, certainly, but organic. And she had shone with an almost imperceptible aura, a light interior to herself. The creature before him now wore the same borrowed face, but otherwise was her opposite in almost every way. When she moved, it was with precision, and only so much as was necessary to convey her point. She did not shine in the darkness; she displaced it. 

“In truth, I should have met with your brother first,” she said. Her words shared the same rote, pointed quality as her movements. She held her hands out in front of her, palms up. “But I wanted to give you answer. Whether you like it or not, Sam Winchester, you’re special. Chosen for a purpose, one as important to me as it is to Lucifer.” 

Understanding clicked into place for Sam, roiling his stomach. “Michael. You’re Michael.” 

Of course. Hadn’t he pleaded for this? Putting himself to bed with the same reassurances he’d been grasping at since he was a child. Even after—especially after—the revelations of two nights ago about his place in the universe, prayer had felt imbued with that old, imperative weight. Sitting on the edge of his bed before sleep, reciting: deliver us from evil. If he was honest with himself, he had held out hope, however tempered by disillusionment, that some power on high would take notice.  

It was small wonder that angels flocked to his dreams.  

His heart wasn’t real there (nothing was real, there). And still, it thumped hollowly in his absent chest. 

She took a step toward him. Reflexively, he shoved himself back. His spine cracked hard against the headboard. She stopped. 

“This form displeases you.” Michael’s eyes slid over his body, his taut and coiled frame, the twist of his fists into the sheets. Assessing him, measuring him. Then they flicked back up to his own. 

He couldn’t hold her gaze. He looked, instead, at her hands. This memory of Jess, the one Michael must have pulled from him to craft a likeness... he’d all but forgotten. She was so beautiful. How could he have forgotten? This woman wore the same cutoff jean shorts, faded to grey and fraying, and a crop top the delicate pale pink of the inside of a conch shell—they'd gone on a hike. On one of the last bright days between the death of summer and the true advent of fall. Vivid, sun-baked and alive: Jess then had been everything that Michael was not now. He’d hugged her to him, buried his nose against her scalp where her hair was damp with sweat. Her laughter had echoed between their bodies where they pressed together. They’d intertwined their fingers, and her nail polish, chipping, had left flakes behind wherever she touched him. They’d stayed on his skin for days—cobalt fragments, and the smell of her. 

Michael wore Jess’s chipped blue nail polish in the same way as he wore Jess’s fingers, and her face: as an afterthought.  

Her voice snagged him out of his memories. “I require something of you,” she reminded him. “Tell me.” 

“Why I prayed?” 

She nodded. “Why you pray.” 

“Could... uh...” He cleared his throat. Steadier, he tried again. “I don’t... want to presume, or anything. I just don’t think I can...” His voice cracked. Once more. “D’you think you could look like someone else?” 

She cocked her head.  

He felt her rummage through his memories. She was not careful. It was not malicious, and her face as she watched him betrayed nothing but casual, imperious indifference. Still he felt the substance of himself riffled, examined, the pages of his mind turned rapidly under vast, deft fingers.  

One moment to the next, she was no longer Jessica. Lucifer had taken a perceptible amount of time to exchange one face for another. Michael simply became, in an instant. And where a moment before Jess had been, Madison stood. 

Sam wasn’t sure if the question was safe to ask, but it clawed out from between his teeth anyway. “Why her?” 

Michael stepped forward again. Madison’s brown hair snaked over her shoulders. The motion transfixed Sam: he could no more have moved under her eyes than had she been kin to Medusa. When he didn’t back away, she replied, “I take the form your mind provides. She was dear to you. The two of you achieved... a rapport, for want of a better term, that suits my own desires. You wish you could have saved her. You cling to the idea. It gives you comfort.” 

“What do you mean, your desires?” God, but his voice was unsteady. Like being 16 again. Even talking to Lucifer hadn’t made him feel so young, so aware of his own mortality. “Am I supposed to read into that?” 

“You are supposed to do many things, some of which are more relevant to my interests than others.” Michael lowered herself gingerly on the foot of the bed. She appeared no more relaxed there than she had standing; she merely folded her hands across her lap, and continued to watch him. “I understand what you think you know of angels. Believe whatever you wish, but know that I do desire your comfort, insofar as it is an achievable thing. I am not here to hurt you, Sam.” 

“Then why are you here? I mean—you could help me. Right? You’re... I prayed because... I wanted... I hoped...” 

Her face turned away from him again, fixing on an unseen horizon. In her silence Sam counted his breaths, noted again the absence of hers. He worried that he had mis-stepped. The darkness around her thickened and churned with her thoughts. Whether it was only an effect of the dream, or a natural extension of the fact of her, he could not have said. 

“I am here to know you, and to offer perspective,” she answered, after a time. She drew her legs up onto the bed, folded them under her, rearranging her limbs as though at the command of a puppeteer. It brought her closer to him. “You will see the rightness of your purpose, yours and your brother’s. You seek clarity. I can help you achieve it.”  

Her knee bumped his, through the blankets. It seemed to him that she should have burned where they touched, or he should have. But the sensation was only solid, only human, in the ways of knees and shinbones and blood-warm bodies. In the ways Madison would have been; in the ways Michael should not have been. 

“I thought you guys knew everything already.” 

“I know what I am required to know to fulfill my duties. That is much. It is not all. As I said, you intrigue me. I thought I understood you. You are my Brother’s vessel.” Her knee knocked his again; this time, she watched it happen. “I would have sworn that in your position, Lucifer would not have sought intervention. Yet here we are.” 

Michael’s words took root between his ribs, wrapped tendrils through his chest and squeezed. His breath stuttered. “I’m not him. Lucifer. I’m not like him.”  

He was acutely aware of being examined, still, again, but he couldn’t look at her. 

“I’m curious,” she said. Her voice came out strange, rougher. It might have passed as human. “You beg intercession, on terms that—you must understand—are not mine to accept. Lucifer would bear no compromise. You, who claim to be so unlike him, what compromise would satisfy you? Imagining for the moment that such a thing were possible.” 

Sam bit the inside of his lip, hard, once, then again, until his words tasted copper-tinged. “I can’t,” he started.  

He stopped. Started again. 

“I can’t be the thing that destroys the world. Just tell me I don’t have to be that,” he rasped. “Tell me I don’t have to be that.” 

A light touch on his forehead. He lifted his eyes to find that she had raised her right hand, placed her fingertips gently but with intention just below his hairline. They were at eye level, her knelt there and him, seated; he couldn’t be looking up at her. And yet he felt himself become small. 

“We have different conceptions of destruction, but... I understand. You would give yourself for that outcome.” She slid her fingers higher, tangling into his hair, her palm spreading flat over the crown of his head. “You do not ask for your own life, but to spare the pain of others.” 

His back bowed. He swayed toward her.  

Madison had worn no nail polish, and had manicured her nails to neat points. On Michael both of these things presented themselves as natural, facts to be accepted without question. But Madison had smelled like clean laundry, like warm pavement and leather car seats and the thrill of teenage delinquency. Michael smelled like none of this. Even in dream, Michael was sharp at the back of the sinuses; she smelled like ozone. 

“Why would you touch me?” he managed. “I’m not your vessel. I’m corrupted. Impure.” 

A frown wrinkled between her eyebrows, pursed her mouth, then was gone. She tightened her fingers at the roots of his hair. It brought the breath rushing out between his teeth in a hiss.  

She looked down at him, and she looked, and looked, and at last she sighed. “My Brother is many things, Sam. But he is not now, and has never been, impure.” 

Bit by bit, her movements were losing their rigidity. Her right hand still palming the crown of his head, she brought her left up to cup the curve of his jaw. She touched him like a priest would, he thought. As though she were anointing him. 

“This shape you have been given,” she said, stroking the point of her thumbnail over his cheekbone, “the destiny you wear as flesh, and would reject? It is an enjoinder: a commandment to glory. What Lucifer has wrought is monstrous. I must give answer to his deeds. But you—as your brother, as my Brother, as I myself—you are not monstrous. You are only potential, Sam. We are all of us only potential, awaiting fulfillment.” 

Michael’s mouth formed his name the way Madison’s mouth had done. The bow of her upper lip was soft, and pursed, and unbidden he remembered what it had been to kiss her. He wondered if Michael would taste the same, wearing her body, or if she would taste as she smelled, like cold high atmosphere. 

Her hands lifted off him, untwisted from his hair. He leaned after her in their wake, bereft of the loss, and confused at it, but wanting more than anything for her to lay her hands on him again. She did. The frown returned to her forehead, his confusion mirrored on her, but her hands flittered back down to him, doves settling fretful on his shoulder and the nape of his neck.  

“You miss him,” he said to her, understanding this fully only as he said it. He leaned more firmly into her touch. “Do you really have to kill him?” 

The doves lifted, hovered, settled again. Now she touched his collarbone, his chest over his heart. Nothing between his pulse and her palm but his thin and too-worn shirt, his thin and too-worn flesh.  

“He has made his choices,” she replied. “He is making them, even now, as I am making mine. My Father’s will for us is absolute. The conclusion is foregone.” 

One heartbeat. Two. “Then how can we be—potential?” 

Her lips parted, a little. The edge of her tongue traced the line of moisture along the curve of her lower lip. “The path we take matters. Our methods matter. I do not believe Lucifer can do other than make the choices he must, as I do not believe I could. I am not even certain that you can. But you would give yourself for a different outcome, where my Brother would not. I find this to be in conflict with my understanding of my Father’s will, and with my understanding of my Brother.” 

He swallowed. “So I’m... what, to you? A thought experiment? A problem to solve?” 

“These things, yes, among others. You are a part of the path, Sam, and a method for traversing it.” She took a breath, the first he had seen her take, slow and deliberate. “My will is my Father’s will. And it is my will to know, fully and completely, the means by which I am to pursue my duties.” 

Sam absorbed this, and didn’t know what to do with it. It was one thing to beg for the intercession of the divine, but quite another entirely to be pinned under the regard of the first and holiest of divinities. She was no different from Lucifer, he reminded himself, but with her hands on him, her eyes on him, it rang hollow. He wondered what he would give her, if she asked for it. He wondered what he wanted her to ask for.  

What came out of his mouth was a plea: “Your question. I want—I’ll pray for you. I’ll show you. Let me show you. Please.” 

A shiver ran through her. Her right hand returned to his hair, curving over the back of his skull, left hand on his chest, and she lowered herself atop his lap as gingerly as she had first seated herself on the bed. Legs slung over his and blankets bunched between them; once again he felt himself impossibly smaller than her. He had been able to pick Madison up and hold her against him with one arm. He could not imagine doing it to Michael. And, just then, he could imagine doing nothing else.  

She pinned him in place without apparent effort, as though it were nothing to her. “I’ve watched you,” she said. Her words raised the hair on his skin to gooseflesh. “Your brother as well, of course, but you, Sam—your little rituals. They do fascinate me. You bow your head to pray, do you not?” Her fingers tightened over his scalp, and the touch no longer felt quite so like an offering from saint to supplicant. His head dropped forward, his cheek brushing hers. His neck felt terribly exposed.  

He tried to speak; could only rattle out a half-coherent slurred aaehhh. How did he endure the touch of something like her? Scalp, chest, the curve of his jaw, his hips and thighs where she straddled him: it seemed impossible that he did not burn or freeze at these places, these junctures between her holiness and his all-too-human flesh. He lost himself, for some moments, caught half between longing and terror. 

“And then?” she prodded. 

“H-hands,” he stuttered. He tried to shake himself, succeeded only in settling her more firmly across his legs. His hands were—somewhere, a million miles away, doing nothing for him, he’d forgotten them so thoroughly. If her hands on him were unearned blessing and undeniable benediction both, his hands on her would be unthinkable blasphemy. He uncoiled his fists from the blankets, down near his sides, and clasped them together, pressed to his stomach in a fearful attempt not to touch her more than he already was. 

At this, Michael tutted her disapproval. Her hand left his chest, and he regretted the loss only for the second it took for her to grasp his hands instead. Her fingers insinuated themselves between his palms. She pulled his hands away from his body—he offered no resistance, could offer none—and she pressed them down, still clasped, until his forearms rested across her thighs and his knuckles grazed her stomach.  

“You fear to touch me,” she spoke lowly, lips brushing the shell of his ear.  

“Something like that.” 

“Do you imagine that you could spoil me? Are you so assured of your own inherent capacity for corruption, or have you so badly misapprehended my own vulnerability? No. I don’t believe either of these can be the case.” 

“You know,” he said. “You already know.” 

“Sam,” she replied. He heard patience in it, which was not softness but could have been mistaken for it. And something else, too, for which he had no name but thought might be reflective of her own, private emotions. “I desire to meet you where you are. I would have reciprocity in this. I am—” She faltered. “I’m unused to the nuances of physicality. Your mind supplies many of them, but if we are to understand each other, your passive desire is not enough. I require your active cooperation. Do I have it?” 

For one dizzying instant he thought she was asking him for another “yes,” a different one. But she remained statue-still over him, and the thought passed, and with it, some of his trepidation. The concession was unexpected: that between his desire for this strange communion and his fear of her, the latter might be the more powerful. He was left feeling distinctly wrong-footed, yet undeniably reassured. 

In response, he loosened his hands. Allowed them to rest more gently against her. “Yeah,” he replied. “I just... you’re kind of a lot. Uh, no offense.” 

Michael’s pleasure was obvious in the lines of her body, in the breadth of her shoulders and the way her head tipped back as though to accept a crown. She pressed the hand that still covered his clasped ones more insistently between his palms, until they opened around it, and he held her hand in his. “I am what I am. It is what you are that I am discovering. To which point: you were providing me a demonstration. Your hands—what about them?” 

What indeed. His head remained bowed under her hand (and he was thankful for that, a gratitude that surprised him, for her soft-immovable living iron grip that held him aloft in the moment) and he closed his eyes. So it was by touch that he undertook to relearn her body. By touch, alone, that he traced his fingers over the contours of her waist, down the arches of her pelvic bones where they disappeared beneath the denim of her cutoffs. Then back up, around the hem of her shirt, over each jut of ribs, to the column of her spine. This body was a country he’d traveled before. He could have wept for the familiarity. 

But she wasn’t Madison. It was impossible to truly forget for even a second. Michael upended reality simply by existing in it; the world moved aside for her. She was warm, but not as a person was warm. Michael was warm in much the same way as a star: an inferno, self-sustaining and consumptive, survivable only if kept at a great distance.  

Sam wanted to bridge that distance. The implied question of the relationship between that desire, and his own survival instincts, he set aside for later.  

His fingers drifted down her vertebrae, slowly, feeling their shapes. He muttered under his breath.  

“What aspect of prayer is this?” she said. 

“Rosary,” he chuckled back, and he thought he felt her huff a breath of laughter across his throat. 

He pitched his voice louder, meaning for her to hear. When he spoke, what came out was not prayer—not exactly—but fragments of half-remembered poetry that looped in his ears like a refrain: 

“If I profane—” he began. He felt the weight of her curiosity, her expectation. He pressed on: “—with... with my unworthiest hand... this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a...” His mouth was dry. He swallowed. “... a gentle kiss.” 

Christ. Shakespeare to an angel. Shakespeare to Michael. But that was where he was. Nothing else felt adequate.  

He expected to move on. He expected his words would have amused, bored, perhaps even offended her. He did not expect her to return the next verse. 

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,” she replied. Her lips were at his ear again. She ran her left hand down his arm, pulled his hand off the small of her back to knit their fingers together between them. Her voice held a smile. “Though I accept the proposition, regardless.” 

She kissed him.  

He’d been right, and wrong. She did taste like she smelled, her lips all static pop under his own, but it held more of bioelectric feedback than the hum of the void. The motions were all Madison’s. It occurred to Sam that Michael might have only his memories for reference; that, wearing Jess’s face, she would have kissed like Jess kissed, too. Realizing this, he slowed. He kissed her with deliberate languor, with a luxury of time he and Madison hadn’t possessed. Some of the earlier stiffness returned to her. She became still under him. He hooked one finger into her waistband and tugged her flush against him, and crushed his mouth against hers, and she let him do it.  

“What does this feel like for you?” he wondered aloud. He lifted his hand to trace her lips with the tips of his fingers.  

Michael took a rare moment of deliberation before she answered. She kept her mouth pressed to his fingertips, speaking against his skin. “Much as it feels to you, I expect. Your nerve endings provide useful information. The sensation is... not unlike taking a vessel. It is novel.” She was quiet for a moment, then added: “It is not unpleasant.” 

“That’s... good,” he managed.  

“It is. Though you have unusual taste in prayers.” 

“I could stop. If you wanted.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him, mirth that took on shades of disbelief when he grinned back at her. She tightened the hand that was in his hair once again, quick, nearly playful, and draped the other arm across his shoulders behind his neck.  

“You will do no such thing.” The arm around his shoulders flexed. She guided his head down to her shoulder, and ground her hips against his. His breathing broke, broke again, and he gasped against that place under her jaw where her pulse should have been but was not. 

“Another,” she said, nearly as breathless.  

“You want something more traditional?”  

“I would know you, your interiority. Whatever you feel most demands to be heard.” 

He set his lips against her throat, considering. Her skin was pliant, soft and yielding, and he moved past lips to scraping with the barest edge of his teeth. Felt the buzz of her underneath the veneer of humanity.  

“... It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,” he started. He slid both hands over her hips. Dipped fingertips under her waistband. Pricked her skin with his fingernails. She startled, at the sensation, or the change in meter, or his choice of poem, he could not say. “I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it.” 

Again she surprised him. “Books, art, religion, time,” she said, eyes slitted almost closed. She wasn’t looking at him, now, had turned her head away. “The visible and solid earth, and what was expected of heaven or feared of hell, are now consumed.” 

Abruptly speech deserted her. Sam leaned forward, pressed a kiss to the exposed ridge of her collarbone. Her eyes remained closed, her face turned from him. She bit her lower lip. 

What did he want from this? He hadn’t gone into this encounter certain of the answer to that question, was no more sure now. But the shame and shock that had festered in him since Lucifer appeared had steadily abated in Michael’s presence. There was something in this for her—she'd said as much—but he suspected there was depth there she hadn’t made visible to him, or at least nuance to the desire.  

What he was certain of was that with every touch, she unhistoried him; transformed his past into kindling for the burning future she commanded. She had spoken of a compromise they might, hypothetically, have reached. Maybe it was foolish to hope that she might want that, or something like it, as much as he did. But he didn’t want her to leave yet, either way. He wanted her to stay.  

On impulse, he wrapped his arms around her waist and unseated her from his lap, swinging her back against the headboard. Their positions suddenly reversed, she looked at him seated between her knees with wide eyes full of earnest bewilderment.  

Sam kissed the inside bend of her knee. “Realized I wasn’t doing it right,” he murmured. He stole a glance at her. Another kiss, an inch further up her leg. “You’re supposed to kneel. Sorry.” 

At his third kiss, again further up the bared skin of her thigh, he heard her head clunk softly back against the headboard. She threaded her fingers back into his hair. 

“You are without fault,” she said to him, or maybe just at him. “Provided you atone for your oversight.” 

His mouth, traversing up her thigh, had reached the ragged edge of denim that demarcated the parts of Michael that Sam had seen and touched from those that still belonged only to the memory of the woman she wore. He wanted to see beneath it, wanted to know how much of the impossible creature in his arms and his bed was recognizable. What commonality might be found between woman and myth. 

He wanted, he realized, to know her for herself. As she had made it clear that she wished (via the mechanism of this intimate, unexpected exchange) to know him. 

His hand found the button of her shorts, and worked it until it popped free. But her hand fell over his. She looked down at him with placid eyes. And then she wore nothing at all.  

It took his mind a stuttered instant to catch up, which clearly amused her. His hand, which had rested on denim, she now pressed onto the dip below her bellybutton where the velvet skin of her stomach gave way to soft black hair. His eyes raked up her body, recommitting it to memory: the pale spread of her breasts and the flushed brown nipples, the peaks of her ribs beneath rippling skin. The curve of her pelvic bones, the mole on her right hip: these were the same as he remembered them. But Madison’s body, beautiful as it was, had never pulled his gaze in like this. Had never entrapped him in her own personal gravity the way that Michael did. 

“Tell me what you make of me, in this form.” 

“I don’t know that I have the words you want,” he said, truthfully. “Show you instead?” 

“... I’m amenable.” 

Under the pressure of his hands her legs fell apart. Every time she yielded to him, every time he moved her, the part of his mind still staggered by insistent awe reminded him that it had only happened because she had allowed it. That there was no better indication that what he was doing was not only at her consent, but by her will, and that there was a small but vocal part of him that delighted in being the subject of that will.  

He urged her to extend one of her legs beneath him, propping himself above it; the other he slung over his shoulder.  

There seemed no preamble that would be suitable, apart from what had already passed between them. Still, if his intuition was to be believed, this was the first experience of such mortal intimacy that Michael would know for herself. His own first-time memories were all rushed, fumbling, teenaged things. It felt wrong, for that to be what he offered her. 

And so he took his time. He leaned forward, pressed his forehead against her stomach. His lips skimmed along the top of her pubic bone, mapping the boundary between her structural hardness and the soft expanse of skin and muscle that overlaid it. He slid the fingers of one hand into her pubic hair, feeling the way it curled around them, rough-soft. Her own fingers tightened in his hair in return.  

When he nudged his head back, they loosened again, and he took advantage of the renewed range of motion. His mouth dropped to the divot between her hip and leg, and he ran the flat of his tongue down it. Her skin here tasted more like he remembered of Madison’s body: still buzzing with power, but with none of the ozone sting that kissing her mouth had carried. It lacked the tang of salt that sweat would have given it, but if he hadn’t known what she was... well. It was better not to dwell on that. 

Sam’s life, beset by storms as it had been, had set him running more often than he cared to dwell on. It was why he was here—in Oklahoma, apart from his brother, on his own—and why he found himself in this bed, now, with this creature of embodied primordial fire of creation spread beneath him, naked and wearing the face of a woman whose life he had taken with his own hands. Michael was not safe haven; it would have been a grave mistake to think of her that way. Yet he was drawn to her regardless, in a way that he thought might be similar—perhaps complementary—to the way she seemed to be drawn to him. If he were allowed to scald himself in the inferno of her, perhaps he would be more worthy of finding the shelter he sought. 

Between her legs, the warmth that radiated from her dared him to try. “What was it you wanted from me, again?” he asked in a surge of boldness, his mouth pressed against her in a grin.  

Though quiet, her voice had lost none of its command. “To understand you, within as without. Your interiority.” 

He slid one finger inside of her.  

She exhaled hard, though her nose. “Irreverence is unbecoming,” she said, but he thought he heard laughter in it.  

For all that she had professed unfamiliarity with physical intimacy, her responses were as animal as if her body had been her own. He stroked inside of her, once, twice, and the wetness of her slicked against his palm. He leaned his head down, and licked small, light circles around her clit in time to the motions of his wrist.  

Her laughter deserted her then, and he heard her take a breath, and then another. She drew them in time to his movements. He felt the beat of her pulse under his tongue, where before she had none; it kept pace with his own.  

Sam was aware, distantly, of his own investment in the intimacy between them. His skin prickled with sweat, and with the electricity of touching her. Somewhere either here in dreams or in the world of waking, he was hard, an ache in the pit of his stomach and between his own cramping thighs. He ignored this. As they had come closer together, he had felt more distinctly the places her power insinuated itself into his mind. The way it spread out along his nerves. His experience of his own body seemed relevant only insofar as for what she might gain from it. He suspected that she would not prefer the immediacy of learning what his nerves had to teach her, were he to focus on himself. 

So he focused instead on her. He extended another finger inside her, and then, when her body welcomed him, a third. The circling of his tongue became more focused, harder, a rhythm that he matched with his hand. He sucked more of her into his mouth, clit, labia, and her muscles spasmed around his fingers. With his other hand, he pinned her leg back hard against the sheets, bearing as much of his weight and strength down over her as he was able.  

Her hips bucked against him, but he held her in place. And she let him do it.  

He was under no illusions about his control over this situation. But Michael’s breath had turned ragged, and shaky, and when he dared to glance up at her she was staring down at him as though transfixed. She met his eyes for only a handful of seconds. In those seconds, he saw the emotion she had so carefully guarded slashed across her face like a wound. Her expression mirrored the one he thought he must have worn to see Madison’s face again, and Jessica’s. 

Then her eyes shuttered. She shoved his head back down, and he wrote his apology with the tip of his tongue.  

Her body clenched, hard, harder; her hands twisted in his hair. Panting. Pulse racing. She ground herself against his hands and his mouth, wet heat, friction. He would have moaned her name if he’d been able. As it was, he just moaned. Senseless noise, vibration, but he knew she understood it.  

Michael came with a word on her lips in a language that should have shredded them both to pieces. He couldn’t have said what it was, that thing she reached for at her most open and vulnerable.  

Although—if he were being honest—he could have offered a guess. 

He did not stop immediately, but gradually slowed. The ringing in his ears and the movements of his hands tapered off in tandem, until he pulled himself away from her. He leaned back on his heels. He remained there, between her knees, silent, as though he were waiting for acknowledgement or dismissal.  

Her pulse stopped first. He saw the moment it ceased to flutter in her throat. Then her breath, the rise and fall of her ribs tapering off, her chest going still. She sat up, her face returned to the cold confidence she’d worn when she entered the room. As she moved forward to meet him, her legs folded underneath her, and her movements regained some of their earlier, pointed stiffness.  

She grabbed the bedsheet, and then his hand, still wet. Turning it delicately between her own, she dried first the hand, and then, with soft strokes of the cloth, his face. She held his chin cupped in her palm for several seconds after she let the sheet fall away.  

Then she kissed him, once, mouth closed, like a blessing. 

“Was it enough?” Sam asked, his voice shot. “Did you get what you wanted?” 

Michael stepped away from him. She smiled.  

“Your eagerness is endearing,” she replied. Her eyes turned away from him, toward the horizon she always seemed to be searching for. He wondered what she saw there. “Yes. I always get what I want.” 

She sounded smaller than she had earlier, he thought. As though she had not found something, but had become more lost. She turned her back to him. Under him, around him, the dream began to evaporate. He called out to her, “When will I see you again?” 

She didn’t reply. 

He awoke to the sun on his face, and every muscle in his body sore. As though he’d slept wrong; as though he’d spent weeks curled atop his bed, grieving, starving. Wanting.  

The burn of a distant star still thrumming under his skin, he rolled to his feet.  

A shower, he thought. As cold as he could get it. 

[crazyblondelife]

The Ultimate New York City Guide for Uptown and Midtown (Part 1)

When visiting New York it’s tempting to pick your favorite spots or popular places around the city but you may find yourself bouncing all over town rather than taking advantage of what is in the neighbors you are staying in or planning to spend your day. Below is an extensive guide to all things Uptown and Midtown including where to stay, eat, shop, and experience!

Uptown 

Stay 

If you plan to stay uptown, you can’t beat these luxury hotels. All are different but offer an exceptional luxury experience that is unmatched. 

The Mark

At the top of the list is the Mark. Known as one of the most luxurious hotels in New York, staying at the Mark is an experience you won’t forget. Decorated top-to-bottom by French designer Jacques Grange, the interior is elegant and fun, with bold marble floors and vivid art. Located in the heart of the Upper East Side and just steps from Madison Avenue shopping and museums, the hotel is in the perfect location to explore Uptown Manhattan.  The Mark also offers many amenities, including The Mark Restaurant, established by the acclaimed Jean-Georges Vongerichten, the esteemed Frédéric Fekkai salon, and the ’60s-inspired Mark Bar where you can sip your favorite cocktail. They also offer Laudrée macarons at turndown service, a wonderful treat at the end of the night. 

Below images from themarkhotel.com

Lowell

Located just steps from central park and Madison Avenue shops, the Lowell is a luxury hotel located in a residential neighborhood on the Upper East Side. Established in 1927, The Lowell, a boutique hotel, reflects the timeless elegance of upper Manhattan with great attention to detail and excellent service to its guests. Wood-burning fireplaces, beautiful terraces with sweeping views of the city and warm rooms that feel like a luxury NYC apartment, make this an excellent stay for a romantic getaway in the city.

Below images from lowellhotel.com

The Carlyle

The Carlyle is a luxury stay that emulates the spirit, sparkle, elegance, and nostalgia of old New York City. Surrounded by museums, upscale shops, and fine dining, the Carlyle is a beautiful place to stay! Opening its doors in 1930, the Carlyle has maintained its glamour and prestige throughout the years creating an inviting and elevated environment. Designed by Dorthy Draper the interior is lux and traditional but with a modern flare. They are also known for the Bemelmans Bar, a beautiful spot to grab a cocktail before you head out to dinner or even a nightcap as you head in for the night. Guests such as George Clooney and Sofia Coppola have been known to stay at Carlyle which should help paint the picture of excellence this hotel exhibits. 

Below images from rosewoodhotels.com

Eat

Elio’s

A bustling Italian restaurant in the heart of the Upper East Side is a great spot for a hearty meal and a true New York experience. A place where the room is always crowded, the clientele is posh, and the food is consistent, you’ll find delicious pasta, a bustling environment and unmatched people watching.

Images below from eliosrestaurant.com, Elio’s Instagram, nymag.com

Daniel

Once rated the top restaurant in the world, with 2 Micheline stars, the tasting menu will cost you over $200 a person but the experience is well worth it. The food is excellent and the interior is stunning, Daniel is the perfect spot for a special occasion!

Images below from danielnyc.com

JoJo

Jojo is acclaimed chef Jean-Georges’s first NY restaurant. This beautiful space was recently renovated in a 2 story townhouse on the upper east side and is a wonderful place for a special meal while visiting the city. Not only is the food delicious, the space is bright and beautiful!

Images below from jojorestaurantnyc.com

August

August is a charming dining experience serving classic comfort food in Midtown Manhattan. With a cool and sophisticated interior, deliciously simple food and cocktails that change often, this is a great dinner spot if you are looking for a casual, warm and filling meal after a full day of sightseeing and shopping.

Images below from augustny.com

Ralph’s Coffee

Owned by the Ralph Lauren Group, Ralph’s Coffee is a fun place to stop in for your morning latte. With a couple of locations throughout the city and the city, including their adorable coffee carts, they serve delicious coffee and pastries in a beautiful environment.

Images below from www.ralphlauren.com, Raiph’s Coffee Instagram

Sarabeth’s

Sarabeth’s started as a tiny bakery-kitchen in 1981 where Sarabeth Levine prepared and sold homemade jams and baked goods. As its popularity grew, the store expanded and began to serve breakfast and lunch, alongside the original backed goods. Sarabeth’s quickly became a New York City landmark and now has four locations across  Manhattan. Sarabeth’s is a great spot for a delicious brunch or a cozy dinner of classic American fare. 

Images below from ny.eater.com

H&H bagels

When in NY you must eat at least 1 bagel. This iconic NY bagel shop has been seen on nearly every iconic NYC set TV show or movie, including Seinfeld and Sex and the City. At H&H you’ll find a crusty, chewy, perfect and classic New York bagel.

Images below from amny.com

Drink

Bemelmans Bar

Located in the Carlyle Hotel and named for its masterpiece murals by Ludwig Bemelmans, Bemelmans Bar draws socialites, politicians, and movie stars with its extensive drink menu, and live piano music every night.

Images below from cntraveler.com, rosewoodhotels.com, nytimes.com

Shop

Fivestory

Wander through five stories of beautiful rooms in a transformed townhouse filled with luxe clothing for men and women, shoes, bags, and more from top designers.

Image below from wwd.com

Intermix

This highly curated high-end boutique has grown to be a large in-person and online shopping destination offering some of the most high-end brands. Their flagship store is located on Madison Avenue and is the place to grab the perfect pair of denim, luxury basics or a special piece for any occasion. 

Ladurée

Ladurée was first opened in Paris in 1862 by Louis Ernest Ladurée, a French miller that turned a simple pastry shop into one of the first tea rooms in the city. In 1930 the tea room was expanded and the macaron we know today was introduced. Ladurèe now has locations in most major cities across the United States and Europe and is known for delicious macarons in a mint green box. No matter the city, Ladurée is the perfect place to stop in for a cup of tea or coffee, a pastry, and of course some macarons.

Images below from yorkavenueblog.com

Experience

Guggenheim Museum

The Guggenheim Museum is an internationally renowned art museum Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1939. Founded on a collection of early modern masterpieces, visitors can experience special exhibitions of modern and contemporary art and the permanent collection of works from the 20th century and beyond. Even if you don’t have time to view an exhibit, visit the exterior of the Guggenheim, the building is a work of art in itself.

Image from guggenheim.org

New York Public Library

As NYC rapidly flourished during the 19th century, the wealthy agreed that if NY was to be one of the world’s great cities, it ought to have a great library. Governor Samuel J. Tilden, a very affluent man, requested upon his death that the bulk of his fortune, about $2.4 million should be used to establish and maintain a free library and reading room in New York City. There were two other libraries at the time but neither was what Tilden had envisioned and both were experiencing financial hardship, so the resources were combined and The New York Public Library was formed. 16 years after the plan was set into place the library opened in the spring of 1911. It is said that between 30,000 and 50,000 people visited the building on the first day it was open. The beautiful main branch is still open today along with 91 other branches. The main building on 42nd Street is a beautiful place to visit with its large lion statues welcoming you in and its stunning architecture inside and out! 

Images from smithsonianmag.com , afar.com, vanityfair.com

Central Park

An iconic New York City landmark, Central Park is 843 acres of green space spanning over 50 blocks in the middle of the city! It is filled with walking trails, a pond, the Central Park Boat House, a zoo, a concert venue in the summer months and so much more! The park is a great place to visit any time of year for a beautiful walk or any number of activities. It’s especially great with kids! 

Images from architecturaldigest.com

New York City Ballet

If the busyness of Times Square and Broadway is not your scene, but you still want to spend a fabulous evening in the city, the NYC Ballet is a wonderful option! The David H. Koch Theater, home of the NYC ballet since the 60s is a grand and beautiful space and the NYC Ballet is among some of the best dancers in the world.

Imaged below from nycballet.com, timeout.com, untappedcities.com

Cooper Hewitt

Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum is housed in the Andrew Carnegie Mansion on the Upper East Side. The museum has one of the most diverse and expansive design collections in existence with more than 215,000 design objects that span more than 30 centuries. The work includes ancient textiles, works on paper,  iconic design objects, and cutting-edge technologies. Not only are the works in the museum magnificent and wonderful, but the architecture of the building is also equally as beautiful and worth the trip! The Cooper Hewitt is my favorite museum in New York!

Midtown

Stay

St. Regis

With locations around the globe, the New York St Regis feels like a gem in the city. The gilded lobby welcomes you, the service is excellent with concierge and a butler on every floor and the rooms are so luxurious you won’t want to leave! Just steps from 5th Avenue shopping, the MoMA, Rockefeller Center, and Central Park, St. Regis is the perfect place to stay in Midtown. 

Images below from marriott.com, kiwicollection.com

The Warwick

Opening in 1926, the Warwick has been an iconic NYC hotel ever since. The hotel inevitably became a Manhattan icon when it was featured in the background of the famous photograph titled Lunch Atop A Skyscraper. The hotel has hosted celebrities through the years and continues to host stars to this day. Regular guests of historical note include Elvis Presley, the Beatles whilst performing at the Ed Sullivan Show, and Cary Grant, a long-term resident. Located on 54th Street between 5th and 6th Ave, the Warwick is a perfectly placed hotel for great shopping and sightseeing. With an understated elegance and cozy feel, this is an excellent midtown stay. 

The Ritz Carlton

The Ritz Carlton is a luxury staple across the globe and The Ritz at Central Park New York is no exception. The rooms have recently been redesigned to be contemporary, townhouse-inspired quarters that are luxurious and comfortable. The Ritz also offers a spa, fitness center and Movement Studio that has on-demand classes. With genuine care and comfort for their guests, the Ritz offers a luxury stay surrounded by high-end shopping, delicious restaurants and museums including the Whitney.

Images below from ritzcarlton.com

The Whitby Hotel

The Whitby is a beautiful and uniquely decorated luxury hotel that celebrates art and design. With just 86 bedrooms and suites across 16 floors, the Whitby Hotel is a smaller more boutique experience. The rooms were designed by Kit Kemp, an award-winning contemporary English designer, and each room has its own bold color scheme, unique design, and floor-to-ceiling windows.  Situated in the heart of upper midtown on West 56th Street at 5th Avenue, The Whitby Hotel is just two blocks from Central Park and on the doorstep of some of New York's leading restaurants, galleries, and museums.

Images below from firmdalehotels.com

Eat

Il Gattopardo

Il Gattopardo is housed in a Rockefeller Townhouse that was built in 1897 on the so-called “Millionaire’s Row”. The Rockefeller Townhouses are named after their famous owner, John D. Rockefeller who called them home for nearly forty years. In 2001 Il Gattopardo opened its doors and to this day serves traditional Southern Italian comfort food. Their loyal upscale New Yorker clientele is a geat sign that this is a delicious neighborhood spot.

Images below from ilgattopardonyc.com

The Polo Bar

Owned and designed by Ralph Lauren, the Polo Bar opened in 2015 after his success with restaurants in Chicago and Paris. Today The Polo Bar is a sought-after place to dine, serving American classics such as chopped salad, crabcakes, and the famous polo bar burger. It’s hard to get in but worth going if you are able! The restaurant is cozy and fun and you just might spot a celebrity. Make reservations well in advance!

Images below from opentable.com

Jupiter

Serving up delicious pasta and wine, is there anything better? This is a great place to dine in Midtown if you are headed to a show after or staying nearby!

Images below from jupiterrestaurant.nyc

Le Rock

Owned by the same group as Frenchette in Soho, the Rock is an excellent place to have lunch or dinner in Rockefeller Center. If you are staying in midtown and looking for a nearby place to go, this is a great spot! It’s a beautiful space to dine in and they have breakfast lunch and dinner 5 days a week. 

Images below from elledecor.com, theinfatuation.com

Cosme

Located a little outside of midtown in the Flatiron district, Cosme is an elevated Mexican restaurant that is possibly one of the best meals I have had.  The interior is dark and moody, contemporary and sleek, and the food is fresh and simple but absolutely delicious! Highly recommend a meal and Cosme!  I highly recommend this restaurant!

Images below from ny.eater.com, phaidon.com

Le Grande Boucherie

With locations across the city, La Grand Boucherie is a beautiful French restaurant group serving every meal of the day. This is a great spot to pop in for a meal before leaving the city or weekend brunch before a busy day! With an expansive menu and delicious cocktails and wine, there is something for everyone!

Images below from boucherieus.com

Drink

King Cole Bar

Located in the St. Regis, the King Cole Bar is a beautiful destination for an evening cocktail. The bar claims to have invented the Bloody Mary in 1934 and has hosted visitors such as Marilyn Monroe, John Lennon, and Salvador Dali. The bar has been a destination ever since!  The atmosphere is cozy and luxurious and the cocktails are expertly made. I recommend arriving early, they open at 4 pm a line will start to form well before. If you can get one of the first tables you’ll be able to enjoy a drink without waiting too long! If you find yourself standing in line, you can always grab a table in the lounge.

Image below from foursquare.com

The Campbell

If you visit Grand Central The Campbell in Grand Central Terminal is a wonderful bar to stop in for a drink. Formerly an influential businessman’s private office, it became a bar in 1999 and through a few ownership shifts and aesthetic updates, The Campbell has become a destination. With beautiful original leaded-glass windows, a lofty hand-painted ceiling, and a grand stone fireplace, this cocktail bar is the place to grab a delicious classic cocktail and an afternoon bite!

Image below from thecampbellnyc.com

Shop

There are so many wonderful shops in Midtown, from high end clothing including Gucci and Hermes to H+M and Zara you are sure to find anything you are looking for! Below are a few favorites that are worth stopping in!

Bergdorf Goodman

One of the greatest department stores in NYC, Bergdorf Goodman is the perfect destination for an afternoon of shopping, browsing, and a delicious lunch at BG Restaurant on the 7th floor. If you can, grab a seat at the window and enjoy a glass of champagne with a beautiful view of the city.

Image below from forbes.com, fifthavenue.nyc,

Tiffany and Co.

Tiffany and Co. is having a comeback and if you love beautiful jewelry or the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s then you may want to visit the Tiffany & Co store flagship store on Fifth Avenue. The store was featured in the 1960s film and you can now enjoy Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Blue Box Cafe located on the 4th floor of the store. Tiffany remains a highly regarded luxury jewelry store in New York City since its opening in 1940.

Images below from courthousenews.com, lookphotos.com, timeout.com

Experience

Broadway Show

When in New York, if you can see a Broadway show, you absolutely should! There are so many wonderful shows running all the time, you are sure to find something for the whole family, a girl’s weekend, or even a date night. From The Lion King to Hamilton and so much more, Broadway is an experience you won’t forget! 

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Known as the number 1 museum in the US, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is a wonderful way to spend a day in the city. With a tremendous permanent collection as well as some of the most impressive special exhibits, you can spend hours learning and exploring this beautiful Museum. Even if you don’t have the time to visit the collections, viewing the grand building on 5th Avenue is worth the trip! 

Images below from facebook.com

Top of the Rock

Top of the Rock is an indoor and outdoor observation deck with spectacular, unobstructed views of the NYC skyline. It’s listed as one of the top things to do in New York City!

Image below from tiqets.com

Rockefeller Center

Know for the location of the giant real Christmas tree that is a tourist attraction throughout the Holiday season, Rockefeller Center is great shopping and sightseeing destination any time of year! The location of Top of the Rock, shopping, skating sightseeing during Christmas and so much more!

Radio City

An iconic music venue in NYC, Radio City Music Hall is a great place to see a concert any time of year of the Rockettes during the holiday season.  

Image below from rockefellercenter.com

MoMA

Established in 1929, the Museum of Modern Art is one of the oldest modern art collections in the United States. With works from Van Gogh, Andy Warhol, Salvador Dali, and Picasso, the MoMA is a fantastic museum to visit!

Image below from architecturaldigest.com

Grand Central Station

A historic and world-famous landmark in Midtown Manhattan, Grand Central Station is a functional train station, however, it is much more! With shopping, dining, beautiful architecture, and the iconic constellation painted on the ceiling, Grand Central Station is a destination I always like to visit while in New York.  Opened to the public in February 1913, Grand Central Terminal has been been a New York land ever since.

Image below from travelandleisure.com

I hope you’ve enjoyed the first part of my New York City Guide! The second part will cover Soho, Nolita, Brooklyn, etc. Refer to this post when you’re planning a trip to NYC and share if you know someone who would enjoy it!

[longlistshort]

Closing on 4/22/23 is Amoako Boafo's exhibition, what could possibly go wrong, if we tell it like it is, at Gagosian gallery's Madison Avenue location.

From the press release-

When I’m making paintings, I want the characters to be strong, I want them to be free, I want them to be independent, I want them to be unapologetic. —Amoako Boafo

Boafo’s large-scale portraits portray his friends and those he admires with candor, joy, and individuality. Focused on Black identity, his monumental paintings have already become key works in the representation of contemporary Africa and the African diaspora.

Boafo paints the faces and bodies of his subjects with his fingertips rather than a brush, the directness of his touch enhancing their expressive qualities. The works’ surfaces feature a gestural facture which the artist uses to model the figures’ anatomy. Making eye contact, Boafo’s subjects return the gaze of the viewer in an assertion of presence and identity, reflecting the artist’s interest in conveying charisma and individuality. The characters occupy domestic interiors, their casual grace reinforced by the familiarity of these settings.

[seashaper]

A Blank Canvas appears! It dons a gray paper mask with painted on sunglasses. The Blank Canvas sneaks out another cookie from a plastic container and loudly munches on it while lowering its presents down. It then lifts a hand out as if to accept payment - or more food.  

Chi’s present comes in the form of a foam purple dragon mascot head with silver-painted horns and extrusions. The interior of its mouth seemed to have been rigged to an electronic device that emits increasingly bright, pale blue light as if it were charging a breath attack. A small fan in the back of the mascot head provides ventilation, while the small magical tag provided by Kris allows one to see unimpeded while wearing the head. 

A coal-colored mortar and pestle is provided with the mascot head. It gives off a feeling that it doesn’t quite belong in this place. A scan of the object would reveal that it had no magical properties, despite its near-indestructability and inertness to magic saying otherwise. In any case, because of those properties, it’s perfect for grinding up magical reagents.  

A small note showing a picture of presents wrapped in green and red and an image of fireworks can be seen attached to the presents. 

When the Blank Canvas appears in their study, Rook whips around, wand out, halfway through a motion, only to stop and sniff the air. Is that their gingerbread cookie recipe? They put up a quick Detect Magic, scanning their visitor, surprised at the bright but unidentifiable glow of Kris's magic. The Canvas is cautiously approached, everything's scanned until Rook finds the note and can relax; they recognize Chi's art, and they smile at the kind gesture. The head is curiously investigated, Rook thinks it's rather pretty for whatever it's supposed to be, they *do* like dragons, the silver is a classy touch. Once they figure out the light and fan they're rather impressed, but that clearly isn't where the magic is coming from, and the actual enchantment isn't discovered until the tiefling Alters away their horns and nervously puts on the head. That's *also* impressive, and immediately gives them an idea for a very interesting possible espionage tactic, before it occurs to them as well that Dimitri and Wick would love this thing. They keep it on while investigating the rest, just to test it out, but the mortar and pestle befuddles them. It's certainly not natural, but there's no magic to be seen, in fact, it feels like Rook's Detect Magic doesn't see it at all. By the time they put it away with the rest of their tools the sorcerer already knows what they're going to do with it. So distracted by the gifts, Madison Rook almost forgets the Canvas was there, until they see it waiting expectantly out of the corner of their technically foam-blocked eye and jump a little. Setting aside the head, Rook glances around for something to send in return. They definitely don't have any food in here, but there are at least some rather neat common magical items they can replace with relative ease. What would Chi enjoy..? Oh- of course. Their Pen of Scribing. Rook had run out their fun prank ideas with the item, and what young artist wouldn't enjoy a pen that can draw *anywhere*, and invisibly, if she so chooses? They pause to tie a bit of paper to it, picking up a small stamp placed nearby, dipping it in a bit of enchanted violet ink, and press it to the tag, leaving the imprint of a rook, in violet and white, to identify the sender. 'Thank you' is scribbled elegantly beneath, the pen is given, and Rook watches until the Canvas has properly vanished before returning to their arcane work, 1 giant dragon head richer.

[nyc-museums]

The Morgan Library

Between 36th and 37th on Madison Avenue, lies a library/museum with a proud glass door entrance. I have never been to this museum either, so upon hearing the name I was expecting old books and a worn-down interior however, the museum itself is very modern, with its high ceilings and wonderous all-glass elevator situated right in the middle of the museum. While taking in all of the modernity of the museum, I took myself over to the ticketing booth which cost me $13 for a student ticket. Compared to the MOMA, the Morgan Library is on the smaller side, where most exhibits follow themes of religion and history. The first exhibit I saw was tucked away in the back inside of a small corner, housing illustrations and books on plants, seeds, and herbals. Moving on, the next floor consisted of various Bibles and religious artifacts- which is interesting, but not so much to me. Then probably the number one reason why people visit the Morgan Library, the star of the show: J. Pierpont Morgan's Library. The interior of this library is quite extravagant, with its stained glass ceilings alongside arches of what look like Renaissance paintings and most obviously the aged books lined up one by one on a caged shelf- as if they have never been touched. Stepping into this library, one could imagine how Morgan moved along throughout his study to his library, going up and down the walls for books to read. It's definitely an interesting feeling to be stepping into such an old interior from the very modern lobby of this museum. While there were some other works from their own collection on other floors, my mind couldn't stop thinking about the library after leaving it. Finally, I ended up at the gift shop which was honestly, one of the prettiest museum shops I've seen so far. Probably because it was located in a nouveau-esk interior with dark wood walls and golden trims. If you're ever looking for a quick feast for the eyes, definitely stop by the Morgan Library and perhaps even grab a quick bite at the restaurant that is located on the first floor!

[hannahsmusings]

Jackson

*Jackson looked at you again when you asked if all CEO’s had a closet the size of a room, his eyes alight with that rare playfulness and mischief, this look being reserved only for you* I mean… my closet is the size of a room… but it’s just attached to my bedroom. *his palms were sweaty as he realized what he just did, he invited you into his inner sanctum, a place where no one, not even Bonnie, was allowed to go, his bedroom and his office being fully off limits to everyone*  *the sparkle in your eye made him feel less anxious, but his heart was pounding, knowing that he was opening a door that he wasn’t able to close, knowing he was letting you in fully now, his room being the one spot in his entire manor where he felt fully in control and he was allowing you into the safe space* *his head whips down to look at where your hand was holding his, his mouth going dry at the sight of your delicate hand encased in his big, rough one, the small squeeze of reassurance shooting straight from his fingers to his heart, further warming the ice wall that Jackson had put up around it* *he takes a deep breath, his eyes locking on yours briefly before he was slowly leading the way back from the guest room to his own, crossing the hallway which felt like it was 10 miles wide right now* *he pushes open the door, and steps inside, never letting go of your hand as you step in behind him* *the room was massive, the walls a deep green color that matched the curtains and his bedspread, it definitely being the biggest room in the manor, there not being a tv in sight but just shelves of books, the room was also noticeably cooler than the rest of the manor* *he looks at you as you take it all in, reading your expression, seeing that familiar look of awe on your face as you admire the room for the first time, never before worrying what someone thought, Madison only ever really being in here a handful of times and it wasn’t really to take in the interior design* *he waited for baited breath for you to speak, for you to say that you loved it or hated it, somewhere deep in his gut, he wanted you to love it*

_________________________________

*i giggle happily as you tease about your closet, shaking my head a little and loving this mood you were in, having never seen you so open with me before* That makes sense, somewhere to house all your white dress shirts I suppose. *grins, looking up at you with bright eyes, feeling so touched that you’d show me somewhere that clearly was personal to you, feeling excited as we head across the hall and you open the door, my eyes widening and a small little gasp leaving my lips as I glance around in awe, stepping in fully as I continue holding your hand, my eyes caught on the fireplace and the seat next to it, the rows and rows of books, the smell of you everywhere in here and it made my heart clench painfully in my chest as I finally look over at the bed, the deep green silk sheets, imagining how you’d look all ruffled in the morning under those sheets* *I look up at you in total awe as I smile, feeling a little emotional in this space and the fact you’d shared it with me, squeezing your hand softly before looking at you with a tilted head, asking you without words whether it was okay to explore and as you nod I let go of your hand before stepping further into the room, the decor matching my dress as I head straight to the bookshelves, letting my fingers dance across the titles and smiling a little to myself before heading over to the writing desk in the corner, papers and pens scattered across it and catching a few notes written in your scrawl, it being so humanising to see what your space looked like* *turns to look at you properly from across the room with a soft fond smile, seeing you were waiting for my reaction* Jackson, it’s beautiful. Like something out of a painting. 

[bubbletimecarwash]

 The Ultimate Guide to Car Wash Services

Your car is one of your most valuable possessions, so it's important to take care of it. This includes giving it regular car washes. But with so many different types of car wash services available, how do you choose the right one for your needs?

In this guide, we'll walk you through the different types of car wash services available, the benefits of each, and how to choose the right one for your car.

Types of Car Wash Services

There are two main types of car wash services: automatic and hand car washes.

Automatic car washes: Automatic car washes use conveyor belts to move your car through a series of machines that wash, rinse, and dry your car. Automatic car washes are convenient and affordable, but they may not be the best option for cars with delicate finishes or special needs.

Hand car washes: Hand car washes use trained technicians to wash your car by hand. Hand car washes are more expensive than automatic car washes, but they offer a more thorough cleaning and can be customized to meet the specific needs of your car.

Read more: Which Type of Car Wash Is Right for You? 

Benefits of Regular Car Washes

There are many benefits to getting regular car washes, including:

Protects your car's finish: Dirt, grime, and other pollutants can damage your car's paint and clear coat over time. A regular car wash will help to remove these pollutants and keep your car's finish looking its best.

Extends the life of your car: Rust and corrosion are the enemies of any car. A regular car wash will help to remove salt, dirt, and other debris that can cause rust and corrosion.

Improves visibility: A clean windshield and windows are essential for safe driving. A regular car wash will help to remove dirt, grime, and other pollutants that can obscure your vision.

Maintains resale value: A well-maintained car will hold its value better than a car that is neglected. A regular car wash is one of the best ways to keep your car looking and running its best.

How to Choose the Right Car Wash Service

Bubble Time is a company that specializes in providing quick outside carwashes. If one is seeking prompt car wash service in Madison , excellent value, a meticulously maintained vehicle, and an enjoyable atmosphere, this establishment is the appropriate choice. In addition, we provide complimentary vacuum bays, along with the option to purchase detail kits, in order to achieve a clean and organised interior aesthetic. 

When choosing a car wash service, there are a few things you should keep in mind:

Your car's needs: Some cars have special needs, such as delicate paint finishes or special wheels. Make sure to choose a car wash service that is experienced in cleaning cars with your car's specific needs.

Your budget: Car wash services can range in price from a few dollars to over $100. Decide on a budget before you choose a car wash service.

The services offered: Some car wash services offer a variety of services, such as interior cleaning, waxing, and detailing. Choose a car wash service that offers the services you need.

Customer reviews: Read online reviews of different car wash services to get an idea of the quality of service they offer.

Conclusion

Getting regular car washes is a great way to protect your car and keep it looking and running its best. When choosing a car wash service, be sure to consider your car's needs, your budget, the services offered, and customer reviews

[ultraheydudemestuff]

Erastus Day House or “The Captain’s House”

16807 Hilliard Rd.

Lakewood, OH

A historic Lakewood, Ohio, home located on Hilliard Ave. was built in 1874 and is known as “The Captain’s House.” It is on the National Register of Historic Places and is a Lakewood Landmark. It was once the home of Captain Erastus Day, a Captain on the Great Lakes, who purchased it in 1871.  Captain Erastus Day was born in Ogdensburg, NY, in 1834 and came to Lakewood with his wife Sarah in about 1869. They had four children, residing in this home. Captain Day was first a cook, and then skipper and commander of Great Lakes vessels in the mid-1800s and retired from active business life on shipboard in the 1860s. In 1872, he was appointed superintendent of the New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio ore docks in Cleveland. In 1892, he left Cleveland to construct the fine system of docks at Conneaut Harbor Eventually he became famous for inventing hoisting and conveying systems used in the shipment of ore. He died in 1917 at the age of 83 and is buried in Scott Union Cemetery, Huron, Erie County, Ohio.

     Although historically known as the Erastus Day House. it was first owned by Jeremiah Gleason, who came to Lakewood with his wife Catherine in 1831, bringing their own cattle and settling near Hilliard and Madison. Gleason bought the future Day property in 1852 and built the original dwelling there soon afterward. The home was inherited by Gleason’s daughter, Ann Eliza Warren, who then sold it to Captain Erastus Day in 1871. In the late 1870s, Captain Day made such substantial changes that he may have constituted a completely new structure around the initial building. His handiwork on land the size of three city lots at the southeast corner of Hilliard and Atkins became what today may be the most elaborate Victorian farmhouse with Italianate and carpenter gothic detail in Lakewood.

     In 1974, Lakewood Historical Society designated this as one of the city’s Century Homes and five years later it was placed with the National Register of Historic Places on May 8, 1979. The Murphy family purchased the home in 1987 and started an extensive renovation, including conversion of its second-floor ballroom into a two-room suite. Cliff Murphy, a musician, singer and entertainer took a night course in carpentry to improve his skills as a handyman. He said he tried to rebuild/renovate/restore it in the way Captain Day would have wanted it rebuilt.  The updated interior of this historic Lakewood home, painted throughout in Chantilly Lace by Benjamin Moore, today features white oak herringbone floors, original hardwood doors with porcelain doorknobs, 10-foot ceilings and tall windows which create light-filled spaces and welcoming double front doors.  There is a trap door in the entrance hall on the first floor with nearly vertical steep stairs that lead to the basement (which could indicate that the home may have been a part of the underground railroad that came from Oberlin to Cleveland and then through to Canada to help runaway slaves. The Fox family are current owners of this home.

[ugaldepaintingllc]

Ugalde Painting LLC | Painter and Decorator | Drywall Installation in Sun Prairie WI

We are your trustworthy go-to Painter and Decorator in Madison WI. With a keen eye for detail and a passion for transforming spaces, our skilled team brings artistic flair to every project. We offer personalized color consultations and top-notch painting services that elevate interiors and exteriors alike. Moreover, we are also renowned for seamless Drywall Installation in Sun Prairie WI. From initial assessment to meticulous installation, we pride ourselves on delivering durable and flawless walls and ceilings. Our team ensures efficient and timely completion, paying attention to even the smallest details. For your convenience, we have kept our service charges low. So, if you need our expert assistance, call us today.

[thepainterladyusa]

Are you looking for Fireplace Refinishing in Madison? We offer a home improvement company called The Painter lady. Our certified and skilled craftsmen have been trained to achieve perfect color matching and guaranteed professional results on every project we tackle. Your photo is what makes it or breaks it when you find the perfect fireplaces for your home!

[westringconstructions-blog]

We are Professional Painting contractor in Madison, WI. We do any and all painting, interior, exterior, repair, and maintenance jobs. We offer a wide range of services to meet your needs. We offer free estimates and will work with you to ensure the job is completed in a timely manner. We are here to provide you with the best service and quality.

[madison-house-painters]

Our newly designed website that finally looks reputable lol

[seerkin]

Throughout her vampiric life, she has attended countless universities / colleges.

You can view them below the keep reading.

She has studied the following courses:

fashion related

fashion design/studies - master of fine arts / arts in fashion design and society / fashion studies

interior design/architecture - bachelor of fine arts

textile design - master of fine arts

jewellery design - master of fine arts in jewellery and metal-smithing

fashion business/ management - master of professional studies

beauty therapy - diploma of cosmetology

marketing - associate of applied science in fashion marketing and communication

ARTS RELATED

art / fine arts - bachelor of arts / bachelor of fine arts.

history of art - master of arts in art history

visual art - bachelor in visual arts and emerging media management

photography - master of fine arts

painting - master of fine arts

BUSINESS RELATED

lingustics - minor

business management - bachelor of business administration

events management - bachelor

public relations - master of arts in communication with the concentrating in public relations

LAW RELATED

criminology - major

law / business - juris doctor and master in business administration

social science

sociology / psychology - double major

women & gender studies - major

HISTORY RELATED

history - bachelor of arts

scandinavian studies - bachelor degree

vikings studies - minor

AGRICULTURE / LIFE SCIENCE RELATED

wine making - major in viticulture and enology

HOSPITALITY RELATED

hotel management - bachelor degree in hospitality management with hotel/lodging management

hospitality management/event planning - bachelor degree in hospitality management with event planning

The above degrees are her first set of degrees that she had received at USA universities/colleges. Those are of the following:

Kendall College; Cornell University; Washington State University; University of Wisconsin - Madison; University of Richmond; Kendall College National Louis University; Rhode Island School of Design; State College of Beauty Culture; Brown | RSID ; College of Arts and Sciences; The New School Parsons; University of Central Florida; Academy of Art University; Pace University; University of Denver; Tulane University; Louisiana State University; Harvard Law School and Business School

The following universities are international in which she studied anything fashion related are the following:

England - central saint of martins college of art

Italy - istituto marangoni

France - esmod

Australia - fds

Canada - lasalle college

Norway - oslo national academy of the arts

China - istituto marangoni

India - istituto marangoni

Germany - the fashion design institute

Japan - Bunka Fashion College

[high5ivemobileautowashanddet]

High5ive mobile autowash and detail | Car Detailing Service | Car Wash in Madison WI

We are your dependable and trustworthy go-to for exceptional Car Detailing Service in Madison WI. Our team of professionals uses the latest technology and techniques to give your car the attention it deserves. From interior and exterior detailing to paint correction and ceramic coating, we offer a comprehensive range of services that cater to your specific needs. Moreover, we are also renowned for our detailed car wash in Madison, WI. By utilizing eco-friendly products, we effectively remove dirt, grime, and other contaminants from your car's exterior. With us on hire, you can restore the beauty of your car and keep it in top condition for years to come. So, if you need our expert assistance, call us today.