#Mona Lisa career

[evelyn-and-art]

yes, i did the hot yaoi base trend thing

1 / 2

[mariocki]

RIP David Leland (20.4.1941 - 24.12.2023)

"As I’d left school with no qualifications at all, I was searching for something that I could do that didn’t involve qualifications. I couldn’t go to art school because you had to have an O or A level in art but I discovered that you didn’t need any dreaded qualifications to go to college to study to become an actor and I thought, yes! There we go! I was born to be an actor!"

"I think the writing started during the time I was training to be an actor. We were taught what was known as the Laban Carpenter psychology of movement, theory of movement. It had a language, a jargon attached to it, and we were encouraged to write scenarios – Al Pacino talks about this - which would give you a sensation of how other people behave. We would write scenarios and then perform them to each other and writing became a kind of secret obsession."

[ms-demeanor]

Not going to jump on that thread because it would be extremely annoying of me to do so for a number of reasons, but also:

You might take a class like Development of Modern English early in your career as an English lit major. It's much more of a history class than a linguistics class (you'll be taking Linguistics 101 as it's own course), though there is overlap.

You wanna know what a big part of my Development of Modern English class was?

The professor gave us all PDFs of three Old English dictionaries and a 17 page paper on grammar and we had to translate 150 lines of Beowulf.

So actually reading untranslated Beowulf in Old English is a big part of your History of the English Language class.

But the reason you can't read from the Nowell Codex as a college freshman isn't because it's incomprehensible or holds forbidden knowledge, it's because generally we don't let random teenagers handle 1000-year old fire-damaged parchment documents.

(And even if you were someone with a PhD in English and an expert in Beowulf studies, you wouldn't likely end up handling the document unless you had a degree in history or library science and were an extremely experienced archivist who was professionally qualified to do so; genuinely, there's nothing special that an *English lit* student would miss from studying a scan rather than "the original")

The Mona Lisa isn't kept behind glass to prevent the uninitiated from learning the esoteric secrets of painting, it's because she's fragile and easy to damage.

[madlori]

Hey how about some ART TALK

Art history is a bit of a hobby of mine. Last weekend I went to the Frick in Pittsburgh because they had a special exhibition we wanted to see, and in the gift shop I picked up a book that told the story of a series of acknowledged masterpieces. The first one in the book is Birth of Venus, the second is Mona Lisa, and the scream I scrumpt when I turned the page to see the third:

Let me tell you about Artemisia Fucking Gentileschi.

She was a 17th century painter and one of the first women to be admitted to a Florentian art society and is widely regarded as one of the finest of the Italian baroque painters. She was raised by her father, who was also a painter who studied Caravaggio, and early in her career she had to put up with people saying that her paintings surely must have been painted by her father (despite her father himself saying she was a peerless artist and super accomplished).

As a young woman she was raped by a colleague of her father's. Her father sued the rapist because he hadn't married her (THIS was the crime, not the rape itself, of course) and Artemisia was tortured with thumbscrews to verify her testimony. Some of the...ahem...feelings about this entire episode definitely come through in her work.

Contrary to how these stories usually go, Artemisia had a long and productive career, was well paid for her work, enjoyed the patronage of the Medici family, and traveled widely. History, however, has only recently come to appreciate her and name her among the great painters of the period.

Let's talk about THIS FUCKING PAINTING, though. Judith Beheading Holofernes. Probably her most famous work.

The story is one of Judith, a Jewish woman, who got the general of the army about to invade her city to come have dinner with her, got him drunk, and chopped his head off. Then she paraded his head out to the army, like a boss. It's been painted a number of times but this one...this one really brings the rage. Look at Judith, the strength in her arms, how she's got a look of steely concentration. If you look closely, you can see she has her knee up on the bed behind him to get more leverage. Her maidservant is helping hold him down. Neither of them look horrified or hesitant, they're ready to cut this motherfucker. (also that's definitely Artemisia as Judith. She put herself in a lot of her paintings)

It's an apt interpretation of the verse from the Book of Judith, which is admiringly succinct:

Her sandal ravished his eye, Her beauty made captive his soul, The sword passed through his neck. — Book of Judith, 16:9[7]

It's got a real "the tiger is out" energy, right?

Now let's look at the same scene, painted by Caravaggio, who was no slouch at painting, but...come on.

Judith looks like a scared teenager. She's holding him at arm's length as if that's gonna work. Her maid is a crone, lurking at her shoulder like Wormtongue. This does not, imho, compare to the power of Gentileschi's version.

Artemisia painted another image of Judith holding the severed head. And a lot of other paintings. I'm just thrilled to see this one in this book, as it's one of my favorites. We have one of her paintings here in Columbus and I always visit it when I go (when it's up, that is).

[gwendolynshepherds]

It's been, like, 24 hours and I'm already seeing people misinterpret the ending of Glass Onion. Spoilers, obviously, so keep scrolling if you haven't seen it yet.

No one had a change of heart in that movie. No one found their conscience at the end, no one on that island cared about Andi except Helen and Benoit. Everyone else on that island only cared about looking out for themselves, and they knew Miles, their cash cow, was going down, and the only way to save themselves from drowning was to turn on him.

Claire even said how fucked she was earlier in the movie. If being at a party with a murdered men's rights activist and a consummate racist is bad for her numbers, how bad will will being at a party where the Mona fucking Lisa was burned to a crisp be?

Birdie's relying on the payout from Miles to stay afloat, and if he goes down, there's no one to catch her when she goes down for the sweatshop.

Lionel has worked for Miles and vouched for him way too many times in front of way too many people. His only way out is to trash Miles and use him as a stepping stool to try to revive his career.

Whiskey's intermediary to fame is dead, which actually takes out a big problem for her since she wanted to distance herself from Duke's stupid MRA shit anyway, but she still wants to become an influencer and go into politics. Insert "I helped solve a murder" clickbait, but she can't do that until she has the witnesses to back her up.

Peg knows that as long as Birdie's safe, so is she, so taking down Miles and blaming all Birdie's problems on him is in her best interest, but like Whiskey, she doesn't have the social pull to do that on her own.

It was never about getting justice for Andi, regardless of how much she deserved it. The moral of the story was that rich people will always look out for themselves, their money, and their power. Nothing else matters.

[juju-azzisupporter]

Leonardo da Vinci only had Mona Lisa as his muse to paint because Azzi Fudd wasn't born yet

start your modeling career alongside your athlete career, girl

[snoftshell-snurtle]

what if 1987 mona lisa was a teensy bit butch. as a treat. for me.

she borrows a suit from the turtles. it's dreadfully lumpy but only until raphael swoops in with a mouthful of safety pins, humming what can only be described as a ditty.

clothes were too much bother, before. just once she tried to wear a dress like the human girl she used to be; it made her feel even more like an alien in a fake body. like a pet lizard that some toddler dressed up. like her body wasn't hers.

which was, and is, arguably true, but mona had better things to do than stand there and feel it all sharp in her chest like that. people to save, piratical careers to extinguish. she left the dress behind.

the suit works, though.

maybe it's raphael's humming, utterly confident and absorbed in his self-appointed task. or maybe it's the fact that the suit is a new look; she's trying on a new self. the suit is a character choice, as is the way she carries herself in it, standing a little taller with a jaunty tilt to her chin. she rakes a hand through her hair.

somehow, like this, the green could be a character choice, too.

[everyscreentoobeseen]

Just realized the biggest irony in having Miles take the fall for burning the Mona Lisa. Miles made an entire career out of taking credit for other people's achievements and always having a "disruptor" take the fall when one of his idiotic ideas might backfire on him.

But when Helen (yes it was actually Helen who burned the mona Lisa) burns the most famous art piece in the world, all his disruptors plan to blame him. Talk about comeuppance.

[incognito-duo]

CHAT I DID HER LORE!! This version of Mona Lisa is fan made for Tales of the TMNT/ TMNT: Mutant Mayhem, she is inspired by the 1987’s version of the character!

Here’s a quick lore drop of Mona Lisa:

15 years ago…

Captain Flinch became a EX-TCRI member when he realized his own potential. Instead of mutants becoming a weapon for war, like Cynthia and TCRI wanted, he wanted to use mutants as his own goons that can find him the treasures that lie in and on the ocean.

Fortunately for Captain Flinch, he was able to make a small group of mutants to complete his plan.

While invading a cruise ship for loot to strengthen Captain Flinch’s ship, the youngest mutant in the group escaped his ship and into the cruise without anyone knowing. She was a lizard mutant who was just a toddler at the time.

A married couple who were scientists managed to escape Captain’s Flinch’s group of mutants. In the process of escaping the raided, fancy decorated cruise, they found this certain small mutant trying to eat an ice replica of the Mona Lisa. A pang of sympathy and parental care hit the two adults. (I think that’s how middle aged people work when they see little kids)

She wasn’t like the other mutants who tried to hurt everyone on board, this lizard was just an unprotected toddler.

Mr and Mrs. Need a name decided to raise this mutant as their own and named her Mona Lisa. For all her life, Mona was homeschooled and taken care of in an abandoned cruise (the same cruise after it got raided by Flinch) by her human parents. As a side hustle to their scientific career, the couple revamped the cruise and rent it out to rich people wanting to hold big events with it. Mona Lisa always has the duties to stay hidden but protect to cruise ship’s passengers.

Present time…

A big pizza brand rented Mona’s parent’s ship for their 100th anniversary celebration, a 12-hour costume party on a cruise! Peter’s Pizzas randomly distributed free tickets to the event in pizza boxes for handful of lucky winner.

Mona Lisa is now 15 years old. Because of this big pizza event, she is on bodyguard duty once again. However, this time, it’s a solo mission! No guidance from her parents (who are away on a business trip), no tips and tricks from others, and definitely no asking for help when things go wrongs.

Just trusty ole Mona!…

Well, that was the plan until a certain mutant turtle named Raphael tagged along.

[anarglitch]

Scott pilgrim takes off inhabits the same artistic space as the matrix 4, or even the final fantasy 7 remake. I mean this as a good thing. It has the distinct touch of an artist that made something that defined a generation revisiting the art that outgrew them a thousandfold with more maturity and different interests.

These interests usually skew meta, they're about what drives someone to revisit something made by a past version of oneself, about the experience of suddenly gaining more influence than anyone could reconcile, where criticisms of your work (which you also, no doubt, have many) become synonymous with criticisms of your culture. If you've been here a while, you probably know (and are tired of) what I'm talking about, manic pixie dream girls and aloof average male protagonists, toxic nostalgia, pick your theme and it's a video essay title.

Imagine having every read of your 2004 funny video game-coded coming of age comic reverberate infinitely toward every direction, people saying your main character taught a whole generation of men to be self-absorbed while the exact opposite type of people rant about how your secondary lead "ruined a whole generation of women" because of hair-dye or whatever. Imagine Edgar Wright makes a movie adaptation of your cute little comic that somehow launches the careers of half of the current celebrity pantheon simultaneously. How would that change you?

Well, for one, it makes you less relatable. The truth of an aloof nerdy guy dating in his early 20s is a lot more universal than the truth of an artist in his 40s forever defined by the event horizon of a thing he wrote half his life ago. The matrix 4 couldn't stop talking about how it feels to have created the matrix. The final fantasy 7 remake can't help but to constantly examine what it means to remake final fantasy 7. It's easy to see why someone would hate that indulgent meta trend, I'll probably never write a generation-defining story, why would I care about the first world problems of someone who did? It can feel distant, and at its worst it can feel insulting. Like it's pointing the finger at the fans, whispering 'you did this to me'. I get that.

I get that, but I love it.

It's the fundamental difference between wanting something that is like something you liked, and wanting someone that is from the same creator of something you liked. The difference between feeding the mona lisa into an AI and finding a new authentic da Vinci. You can't make something entirely new if you religiously stick to using the parts of something that's already there. The human behind the work will always have influences you didn't realize, thought patterns and aesthetic preferences that weren't entirely clear in their previous work, no matter how much you deconstruct it. More importantly, the human will also change, and this organic self-continuity will reflect on the art. I don't want the creator of something to hold their own creation with the same zeal as its fans, because someone who did that simply wouldn't have been capable of creating the original piece in the first place.

I don't want a product, I want art.

Scott pilgrim, the original, indulges the most earnest impulse we have-- that of self-mythologizing, of creating a narrative off of our own lives. To depict the mundane as fantastic, interpersonal relationships as adventures. It resonated with so many people because it was earnest, and it was also picked apart to hell and back because it was earnest. Its flaws were on display, and not just the ones it intended to show. But in my opinion, the opposite impulse, that of washing off everything that could be criticized and presenting the cleanest possible image of yourself through your art, is just... bad. it makes for bad art, or it just freezes you. The very first hurdle of creating anything is getting over that, then maybe the spotlight will fall on you. If it does, you'll get everything you ever wanted, but everyone gets to see through you.

So, how do you revisit something like that? You have two options. Either you take all the pieces and try to reassemble them exactly how everyone remembers it, signing your name as a formality, looking at a mirror in which you no longer see yourself, or you talk to it. You dialogue with your own work, with who you used to be. You travel in time and talk to yourself. You question them, acknowledge them but also teach them a thing or two. You don't respect the product, you respect the feeling. You find the same earnestness that made you put pen to paper for the first time, and you point it towards your new loves and fears. Maybe you make it less about the main guy, take the chance to develop your secondary characters, maybe you give the girl more agency. Maybe you summon the future and refuse its answers. Maybe you fight yourself.

That's the harder choice. It submits your new self to the scrutinizing eyes of a whole new generation, it risks alienating the people who identified with your previous piece. It's riskier, probably less profitable, and by any pragmatic lens probably a bad idea. But it's the only way you can make art. It's truth, the truth that got you there in the first place.

It's how you get it together.

[overtaken-stream]

3 Years Younger

Ryota Miyagi x F!Reader

I can't get the movie out of my head

Warnings: family(you have a kid), hurt/comfort maybe?

``This sucks.``

Your eyes glance over to the head of the table to meet a grumpy preteen with an angry pout as he stubbornly looks to the side, avoiding yours and his father's eyes. The movements that follow the kid's... opinion are slow, almost in slow motion for both you and your spouse. You both pause to look at each other with wide eyes. Ryota is in the middle of a bite that never makes it to his mouth while you have put your fork down on the cake-covered plate. You can feel Ryota's confusion in your gut, the quiet question of "What brought this on?" Like you have any answers. You raise an eyebrow at him, silently urging him to question the kid's statement, which he does.

``What sucks?`` Ryota throws an uncertain glance at you when the kids puffs up.

``This!`` You desperately hold in a smile as Ryota's eyebrow rises at the childs vague answer and a raise of tone. ``I'm sick of having strawberry cake every time some event rolls around!`` The sentence turns into a whine near the end. ``You don't even gimme the last slice of the cake that I know you eat dad!—``

You quickly suck in the air as you look at your beloved with the expression resembling Mona Lisa, a wicked upturn of lips that mock his form finally caught in the act.

``I do not eat the last slice of cake!—``

``You always eat the strawberries too! What if I want some!?``

``Well, you should have asked then. Stop falsely accusing me, young man.``

Their banter quickly comes to a stop, and so the awkward air of the aftermath hangs heavily over the men. Your eyes look for something to defuse the tension. Eventually, they land on the white chocolate slate on the round cake. You quickly rise from the chair to reach and steal it off the strawberry that balances it, while Ryota is busy glaring at the side of the kids head.

Kenzō likes the taste of chocolate.

The English letters on the slate congratulate you with chocolate swirls around the syllables. Your digits squeeze and tug the piece downward until you successfully break it through the middle. The soft sound draws Ryota's gaze to you. Staring at your outstretched hand, you wave the sweet to urge him to take it. Yet as his fingers hold the fragile first piece of chocolate, he contemplates crushing it. He could never find the sweet taste as delicious after his... passing. The off-white color reminds him of a bitter, cloudy day—a memory he can only live with because forgetting it won't bring him any closure.

<<HAPPY RYOTA>> his name reads under the adjective. Starring at his sons second half that you gave after leaving him with his— <<BIRTHDAY>> on top and <<&KENZŌ>> lies unfinished.

He puts the slate back on Kenzō's piece of cake, completing the sentence as the child speaks up.

``...I wanna do somethin' different.``

``... Then.`` Ryota looks at you, unsure of the next sentence.``Would you like to go to the beach?``

When you both decided to settle down, the choice to stay close to his mother was mutually agreed upon, Though the house is mostly empty because of Ryota's career choice, it isn't exactly rare for your family to travel overseas.

Anyway, the property is close to the beach, which means it is also not uncommon for your family to be seen there playing in the sea or wandering around during the colder days.

The furrowed brows on Kenzō are nothing but a false mask to conceal his mood as he turns to his father and softly nods, hopping off the chair and into his room to get his swimsuit. You won't really need much to prepare for the sudden change of plans.

Silly boy.

With that you put the used plates away and into the sink as Ryota gets an extra plate from the cabinet before cutting a thin slice of the cake into the comfortable silence, you watch as he nudges the slice to land on the white porcelain plate. This has become a tradition of sorts. Perhaps it already was before you became his girlfriend. You're looking through the cabinets for a cover.

After all, three people in your family have their birthdays on the same day.

``Do we have something to wrap this in?``

You hand him a pink see-through bag.

``This will have to do.``

``Mhm.`` Ryota notes.

It's soon after that your family starts heading towards a bitter place, containing no good memories, though, forever tied to you and Ryota. Inside the car, Kenzō makes a few comments here and there, asking where you're headed, before quieting down once you've satisfied his curiosity. It's not a shock that he doesn't know the road. You and your husband don't come here often, not since your son was born.

The heartache has long passed. However, the scar still lives on in Ryota's mind, tightening during his hardest struggles. He wishes to get the deed done quickly and quietly, not thinking much of it since there's not much left for his thoughts to digest. He had years dedicated to that process. Now, all that's left is the cold aftertaste.

The ambiance outside seems louder than the music he has turned on in the car. It's enough to get his mind off of the guilt until the familiar gate comes into view.

Within minutes, he is walking with his left hand holding onto the bag containing a slice of cake, while his right hand engulfs Kenzō's tiny palm. It's an adorable sight compared to the surroundings. The green leaves and the enchanting melodies of chirping birds around here can never truly comfort someone. They can only cradle the choking feelings, sowing hope for the next day.

The Miyagi family monument sits still, stone dusty and heavy with the heart of an older brother. It's not anyone's favorite place to visit, but in a twisted way, it brings about a sense of peace—a realm that only the drowned and his family can understand. Others can only enter and see nothing but a stone with its harsh surface.

The cake slice is put in the place of a flower. It's a tradition.

Prayers come as the pink bag rattles with movement. Quiet overtakes your family as you join his left side to pray for a boy who you never saw outside of the washed out photos, wrinkled by the time they spend sealed away in a box under your shared bed.

Kenzō can stay still for only so long before looking up at Ryota with his palms together and eyes closed.

``What if he doesn't want the cake?`` The loud exhale exits Ryota's nose, it's not from annoyance, nor frustration.

``Then someone else who does want it will eat it.``

Kenzō turns his head to the stone monument, tightening his grip on his dad's pants for a second before letting it go.

A quiet, almost shy murmur from him slices through the air, and this time, Ryota looks down at Kenzō.

``I hope he enjoys it.``

``...I do too.`` With a fragile smile, Ryota rests his hand on the boy's hair while throwing an arm around your shoulders. ``Well, we should go now, huh? The water gets colder the later it gets.``

It's barely 1PM. You are not going to mention that, though.

His palm messed with Kenzō's hair, causing the child to whine from the rough treatment and slap at the wrist, but to no avail. Ryota and you can only smile at each other. He carries the same boyish smile from high school that still manages to fill you with warmth and certainty.

The burden seems to lift off your shoulders, untwisting your gut as his pupils focus on you. His palm gently caresses your face, ignoring the squirming child on his right side as you make it back to the car in a lighter mood.

"I love you." You say it subconsciously.

"I love you too.—" His lips kiss near the corner of your mouth. It's his favorite place to be affectionate to aside from—

"I love mom more than you! Agh—" The ride to the beach is accompanied by countless karaoke numbers from Kenzō, you and Ryota also join in on some of them, singing along with a smile as his enthusiasm becomes contagious.

The ocean seemed warmer that day, the waves exceptionally calm, and the sand softer.

Ryota, and you make sure to do something more special for Kenzō the next time around.

[cas-kingdom]

White Flower

A/N: Definitely a long time coming. I've been so slow in my writing since starting university but I'm glad to finally have this one done. Hopefully you all enjoy the introduction of my OC!

Set in the aftermath of Glass Onion.

Title: White Flower

Summary: Fleur Blanc, art student and only daughter of the world's greatest detective, wants to steal the Mona Lisa.

Words: 2336

Despite the alarm and the impassive yelling of “this is a smokeless garden”, Benoit Blanc believed he quite deserved this cigarette, thank you very much. Trying was one word to describe the weekend he’d had. All-round tits up was another.

Besides. The island was pretty much a raging pit of alarms, fire, and general chaos by now. One more addition didn’t make much of a difference, and there certainly was no stopping the activation of the hydrogen fuel now.

“Oh, do shut up,” he said anyway, because it felt good, and because the first yell had made him jump and squish his cigarette between two fingers.

He reached for another and let his sunglasses fall over his eyes, squinting into the distance.

The horrifically neon pink of Birdie Jay’s sunhat stuck out like a sore thumb in the midst of the remaining participants of the weekend’s fiasco. They were all fanned out across the beach, as far apart from each other as possible, waiting impatiently for the policeboats to arrive. Ironic, really, considering how they’d arrived, each one a suck up to the next.

Benoit lit his new cigarette and shook his head with a scoff. “Megalomaniac, Janus-faced…” He muttered the words under his breath and took a puff. The alarm and impassive yelling restarted, and the second cigarette promptly joined the one on the ground.

“For the love of...”

He was owed a proper vacation after this, at the very least.

The yelling stopped abruptly with a crackle and a robotic groan. When Benoit turned, he was met with the sight of a young woman, her feet precariously placed between the gaps of the odd white sculpture that the yelling emanated from.

No longer.

After a violent snap, she held a handful of the offending wires, a look of irritation settling on her face. A flick of long hair and a moment later she tossed the wires onto dry land and followed them down into the shallow water with a quiet splash. Benoit rose a brow and fit his third cigarette neatly between smirking lips.

“Why, thank you, my darlin’.”

Fleur Blanc, twenty-year old art student and daughter of the world’s greatest detective, offered a mock bow as she stepped out of the water. She stretched out a leg and shook her foot dry as her father turned his gaze back towards the beach.

It hadn’t been his idea to bring Fleur along on this particular adventure, and he had in fact protested against it when she and that good-for-nothing roommate of his had suggested it, remembering quite well the last time his detective business had taken him on a wild ride. Alas, lockdown had turned Fleur into a firecracker and Philip had eventually boiled Benoit’s options down to “you take her with you, or I take myself out with the shotgun in the safe.” All fun and games, of course. Of course.

He couldn’t say her presence had been unappreciated. Apart from the obvious ease in her company, and the slightest spark of feeling like they were on a proper vacation, she had helped with the investigation, too. His little detective in the making, he’d always teased, though for as much as he was sure she loved the thrill of investigation, he was certain her career path would lead her straight to the arts.

That certainty was consolidated at the unusual silence coming from Fleur. When he turned, she was standing with her back to him, her eyes fixed on what remained of the Glass Onion. The structure that had once been so…not on fire generated quite the backdrop for his obviously preoccupied daughter. Her head tilted, arms crossed, feet bare and loose hair billowing behind her in the summer breeze, one would assume she was the picture of innocence.

Benoit knew better.

The moment she glanced over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eyes and the—in this case—horrifying beginning of “Dad?” on the tip of her tongue, Benoit pulled his cigarette from his mouth and pointed it at her. His own head dipped dangerously low, and his brows raised in what Fleur knew to be warning.

“No,” he said. Firm and simple. He would not deny she often found herself wrapped around his little finger, but this was one thing he’d be ridiculous to abide by.

“But—”

“My goodness, Fleur, no!”

Fleur narrowed her eyes and whipped her head back around. Benoit saw her fingers tapping rhythmically against her forearm. He remained still, waiting, ready. Because when a thought entered Fleur’s mind, she was hard-pressed to get rid of it.

With a defining nod and not a single glance back, Fleur slipped her flip-flops on and started walking with absolute intent. Benoit rushed after her. He grasped her shoulder and stopped her before she could take another step.

Fleur was ready for him. “I’m doing it,” she stated, “I’ve decided. I have to.”

“You are insane if you truly think—it’s—you are just preposterous, child!”

“But, Dad, it can’t be a crime, right? Most of it’s already destroyed!”

Benoit spluttered. He dropped the cigarette and, with a sudden distaste for the thing, squashed it under the toe of his shoe.

“Jesus, God, Satan, give me strength,” he muttered under his breath, not for the first time concerning his daughter and certainly not for the last. He grasped her by the shoulders, ensuring she couldn’t avoid his gaze, then, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Fleur, sweetheart, you want to steal the Mona fudgin’ Lisa.”

“Rehome,” Fleur was quick to correct. “And it’ll have a better life with me! You really think Miles appreciated it as much as I will?” That was a given. “And—and only a small part, Dad, that’s all I want.” She suddenly hardened her stare, that familiar seriousness suddenly reappearing. “That’s all I need.”

The detective’s speechlessness after that closing statement could have been due to a number of things. One, because the pure gall of this girl never ceased to amaze him. Two, because something seemed to blow up behind them, a puff of smoke emanating from the top of what used to be the Onion. Three, the most likely contender, because the moment said explosion had him distracted, Fleur ducked under his hold and made her way intently towards it.

Like father, like daughter, was all he could think. And he wasn’t referencing himself.

Surprising, considering he followed after her with absolutely zero hesitation.

The Glass Onion’s majesty was long gone. The maddest of people would advise anyone and everyone to stay about a hundred feet from its flaming mess, armed with a hard-shell helmet and a fire extinguisher, just in case anything went even more wrong. Which, looking at it, was likely.

Still, as was typically—stupidly—the case, Benoit Blanc stood in the middle of it all.

One hand wrapped around his daughter’s, the other gripping the doorframe for easy escape, his wide eyes darted around the Onion. If he was any less focused on the state of his surroundings, he would have been more concerned at his daughter’s lack of concern. True, the fire had somewhat died down, and the structure itself looked less ready to cave in than it had done before, but safe was still not a word he would use to describe it.

Helen’s stunt had certainly done a number on poor Mona, but the world of aesthetes could decidedly remain relieved with the knowledge that some parts of her were untouched. Surrounded by what had once been her glass refuge, she sat still in the place she had done since Miles had obtained her. One eye was black, the other pristine. A side of her hair reflected the fire, the other had been destroyed by it. Needless to say, the majority of her was gone, and if Fleur had the time, Benoit had no doubt she’d be down on her hands and knees, collecting the ashes in a little pot and shamelessly risking her life in the process. Alas, he would sooner drag her out, kicking and screaming, than have her be here a moment longer than she apparently needed to be.

Benoit watched his daughter’s eyes as they scanned the room before landing on Mona. In less than a second, that tell-tale glint went from inquisition to pure delight. It seemed no amount of staring from outside of the case could prepare her for now. True, the painting was charred more than not, and his watchful eye did catch a spark of disappointment, but it only seemed to spur her determination in getting it safely within her grasp.

Parental instincts ablaze since the moment he’d stepped foot on the island, Benoit immediately tightened his grip on her hand and yanked her back when she made to move forward. “Hold your horses,” he said, waiting for her eyes to meet his before wildly gesturing around them. “There’s glass everywhere, Fleur, and you’re wearing flip-flops. Why would you bring flip-flops to this island and nothing else?”

“We’re on vacation!”

“You knew darn well this wasn’t a vacation!”

Fleur spluttered for a moment before pointing accusingly at his own choice of footwear. “Like you and your boat shoes can do any better.”

Benoit gasped. Audibly. “These have hard, glass-proof soles, I’ll thank you to notice.”

He wasn’t quite sure what it was that spurred him to his next decision. Perhaps it was the urgency of the situation. Or the very distant, but ever-closer, sound of sirens. Or, maybe, it was the pure eagerness of his daughter; eagerness of which had always softened his heart, no matter the circumstances.

Whichever it was, he tried not to think about the guilt that would remain on his conscience for the rest of his life as he turned and bent over slightly, motioning with his hands.

“Get on my back,” he said hurriedly. When Fleur stalled, shock settling quickly on her face, he motioned again. “Come, child, we haven’t got long.”

And, with that, Fleur hopped on her father’s back with as much excitement as a child. Benoit gripped her legs, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her chin on his shoulder, the biggest of grins adorning her lips.

“Look at you, Dad,” she said as he began walking, stepping carefully over large shards of glass.

“We are not to tell your father,” was his only response to her obvious insinuation that he was becoming rebellious in his old age.

“Might be a little difficult when we come home with the Mona Lisa. Ooh! Why don’t we take the Porsche home too? Just the steering wheel?”

Benoit uttered a silent apology to da Vinci.

“Do you see these grey hairs?” he said. “You are the cause.”

Needless to say, through no innate conformism, Fleur’s inner connoisseur had won over her desire to keep a piece of the Mona Lisa in her cardholder. The moment the police had finished detailing the basics of the weekend’s mess with her father and struck up the sensitive question of the possibility of either of them having seen the Mona Lisa’s remainders at all during the night—Benoit believed it was their imploring “the Louvre are simply desperate to get it back” that had swayed her—Fleur had produced the scraps she’d been able to save from her pocket. Handing them over with only the tiniest hint of reluctance, she’d smiled at the gratefulness from the police and watched them go with the bit of longing she could allow herself.

Chuckling softly, Benoit wrapped an arm around her and drew her into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, darlin’,” he said, “I’m very proud of you, if it counts for something.”

Fleur breathed a deep sigh and pressed her lips in a thin smile. “It does. At least I cay say I’ve touched her, right, Dad?”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s more than most people can say, after all.”

The police were wrapping up now, gently guiding the exhausted party members onto a boat—one in particular in aptly placed handcuffs. The island itself would take mountains of work to be habitable again, he’d heard a firefighter voice in passing, and for a moment he wondered if Derol had made it onto the boat. After brief consideration, he decided Derol was probably better off here than America.

Benoit pushed his sunglasses down and steered himself and his daughter in the direction of the shore. He didn’t quite enjoy the idea of sharing a boat ride with previously-dubbed megalomaniac, Janus-faced…people, but alas, after today he would no longer experience the displeasure of seeing them again. Though, he would be glad for Helen to attend a few of his dinner parties when the pandemic allowed.

Fleur reached up to grasp her father’s hand at her shoulder as they walked slowly, stepping carefully around anything glinting in the sand. Then, quietly, “Where’re you gonna put your steering wheel?”

Ah. Benoit instinctively glanced down at the duffel bag in his free hand. True, it was heavier than it had been when he’d first arrived on the island, but he had told his daughter that he’d be much appreciated if she didn’t remind him of his rebelliousness at every given moment. Which she had.

“I’m going to lock it away in a safe, so it’s never found, and I’m never arrested for thieving,” he said, finality embedded in his tone. If anyone ever asked: no, he had not stolen the steering wheel of the Porsche 918 Spyder’s wreckage. No, he did not have it in his duffel bag, blanketed by his clothes and second pair of boat shoes. And, no, once it entered the safe he would never look at it again. Except on birthdays. And maybe Christmasses.

He couldn’t say he regretted it.

But he did regret not regretting it.

“And may I just reiterate,” he said, leaning closer towards her, “your father does not need to know a thing.”

Knives Out Masterpost

[robinsnest2111]

ugh just thought about..... no workplace murder au, where Randy eventually invites Benson to spend a day at his place,

Randy's already warned him how overbearing and protective his mom is, how she kept referring to Benson coming over as a playdate, how that makes Randy's skin crawl. To prepare Benson for what he's about to experience when he does come over.

Benson cleans up really well, puts on his best clothes; his most charming expressions and sweet talk at the ready. He will get Mrs. Bradley's approval, no matter what.

He plays nice all day, buttering Randy's mom up, going the extra mile, all to secure his place in Randy's life. At Randy's side. It works like a charm.

After dropping off snacks and drinks in Randy's room, his mom leaves them alone for a while, Benson having already gained her trust he'll treat her boy all nice and sweet (which is only half true. He does want to be gentle with Randy. But he wants to do some less wholesome things to and with him as well. All in due time).

Benson grabs a cookie off the platter placed on Randy's dresser, takes a bite and silently studies the boy's room. All the pictures and posters, the art supplies, the model boats and ships on the shelves. He spots the small vinyl collection, immediately intrigued, wipes the cookie crumbs stuck to his fingers into his jeans, and proceeds to gingerly flip through them.

Randy sits on his bed while he watches Benson take in his room, as if he were studying paintings and sculptures at a museum, trying to find more clues on who Randy is as a person. It's a scary thought, but also exciting in a way. Letting someone in like this. Into his room, his sanctuary. Letting Benson study him so closely, trusting him with his belongings, his passions, all things he had hidden away from the world for so long.

Benson snaps Randy out of his thoughts by way of asking about his vinyls. Which one is his favourite record, favourite song? What drew him to the artists?

Benson joins Randy on his bed, sitting on the edge of the soft mattress. They spend some time talking about music, about the boats and ships, about the art supplies. Eventually Benson gets Randy to show him some of his sketches. They're no Mona Lisa, but they look like they hold a lot of meaning, a lot of emotion. Randy admits the therapist his mom took him to after an incident in elementary school recommended he pick up art as a form of stress relief, to cope with what happened and express himself. And he simply kept at it over the past 14 years.

On the most recent pages are sketches of Burgers Burgers Burgers. The interior, the counter, the displays, a table with the napkin dispensers, little snippets of his work days, no people in any of them. In the corner, in the background of one sketch though, there's a lone figure in their usual work uniform. Leaning against the wall, watching. Benson recognises himself, this must've been during the first weeks of Randy joining the Burgers Burgers Burgers team. He slowly looks up at Randy, seeing the dawning realisation on his boy's face. The slight blush of embarrassment rising to his cheeks.

Benson closes the sketchbook and puts it aside, slowly raising a hand to take hold of Randy's chin, turning his face just so. Benson looks at him, expression unreadable, eyes drifting down to his lips. He leans in to give Randy a short and sweet kiss. It's over in the blink of an eye, Randy turning an even deeper shade of red, still trying to not die of embarrassment over Benson discovering his fascination with him via his art. Judging by the kiss (HIS FIRST KISS!) Benson doesn't mind having caught Randy's attention so early into his career at that lousy little burger joint.

[riotinyellow]

I love how Miles bron's greatest ambition is to be known with something regarding the mona Lisa. It fits him so much. his greatest ambition is to be known next to something he didn't create or contribute towards, just like his current career in alpha

[fabuloustrash05]

Every single TMNT 2012 AU I have (so far):

Turtles In The Roaring 20s - In 1923, Splinter is the proud owner of the most popular underground jazz club in New York, with his four sons being the stars. However there’s family drama going on backstage.

Mission Failed - The Turtles and friends failed their 6 month mission to save the Earth from the Triceratons. 10 years later, the team as split up going their separate ways but are all still haunted by their biggest failure.

Mistress Millennium - I don’t really know if this counts as an AU, it’s just a “what if Renet became a villain?” story.

Salamandrian April AU - April gets captured by the Kraang as a child but it rescued by Sal Commander. To hide her from the Kraang, April grows up on Salamandria along side Mona Lisa where they train together and become like sisters.

Future AU - The Turtles and their friends are now all grown up. Some are married, some have kids of their own and others have successful careers/lives. The story follows their adulthood while also preparing the next generation of the Hamato Clan.

Princess Bride AU - When Kintaro is stuck in bed sick his friend Usagil decides to visit and read him a story about adventure, action, miracles, and true love between a turtle and a lizard.

Actor AU - It’s all a TV show in their world and everyone are just actors. Fun stuff happens behind the scenes when filming TMNT.

Medieval AU - Splinter is the King of the Hamato Kingdom. The Turtles and Miwa are the prince/princess of the kingdom. After Splinter mysteriously dies and Miwa missing, Leo must find a wife and prepare to become king within a year.

Mazes & Mutants - The roleplaying game is now real! A world of fantasy and adventure as the Turtles and friends travel the land, exploring and fighting evil beasts.

Teenage Mutant Monster Turtles - Everyone is a monster (Leo a mummy, Raph a vampire, Mikey a werewolf, Donnie Frankenstein’s Monster etc), hijinx ensue.

Robin Hood AU - Raphael and Slash are the iconic duo of Robin Hood and Little John, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor, rebelling against the wick Sharif, Tiger Claw, and the greedy Prince Newtrailzer.

Human/High School AU - The title is self explanatory. Leo is class president and Mr Popular, Raph is a troublemaking jock, Donnie is a straight A student and tutors his classmates, and Mikey is a class clown.

Childhood AU - The Turtles and all their friends are kids having a big playdate together.

Greek Gods AU - Everyone is their own take on the Greek Gods, but with their own twists. (Ex: Splinter is Zeus but he is NOT a chatting scumbag)

[uniformbravo]

since i've spent the past few days essentially staring at nothing but natsuyuu volume covers i thought it'd be so fun and silly to try and redraw them all from memory tee hee. all 30 (thirty) (三十) of them!!! wheee!!!!

i haven't actually looked at them next to the originals yet so guess what time it is!!!! LET'S COMPARE

starting with volume 1. iconic. show stopping. masterpiece. the mona lisa of natsuyuu SURELY i reproduced every single detail perfectly such that it kickstarts my career as a forgery artist RIGHT

well feast ur eyes

(im using the english volumes for comparison btw they have a good clear view of the art)

CAN U TELL WHICH IS WHICH OOO THEYRE SO ALIKE BET U CANT!!! SPOT THE DIFFERENCE LEVEL 1000 WHICH ONE DO U SHOOT

all i remembered for this one was GREEN and it's not even the right shade of green ajgosugdjfkdgj i even made the fuckin. what do u call it. i'll just say yukata??? I MADE IT GREEN AND ITS SUPPOSED TO BE RED i stg if u held a gun to my head & asked if there was any red on vol 1 i'd be DEAD

but i remembered the book of friends is like. weirdly purple? ok well in this pic it looks p gray BUT ON OTHER COPIES...... IF U UP THE SATURATION GKSJKDNFKDG

why is nyanko sensei smack dab in the middle HUH i couldve sworn he was bottom left this is so fucked up and scary. haunted manga volume??????? i bought it from a grarage sale idk you guys-

at least natsume's pose is like kind of right but also that's most definitely a complete accident i can ASSURE u (im rereading this the next day and the pose isnt even CLOSE what are u TALKING ABOUT)

anyway can i just fucking point out the kanji on the book of friends bc that is from MEMORY YEEHAW here's what it's Supposed to look like: 友人帳

LIKE even tho i got the last one wrong ITS LIKE STILL PRETTY CLOSE??? i think i deserve 100 points for this objectively

MOVING ON THO....

OK NOT AS BAD AS I THOUGHT SURPRISINGLY im actually like. i thought i bombed this one completely but liKE THE COMPOSITION??? KIND OF ON POINT. KIND OF GENIUS TBH

i remembered Blue and Madara and like what else do u need rly. butterflies are optional in all scenarios imo

also i NEVER have any idea what natsume's wearing in any of these so i always just like default throw him into his school uniform LMAO u will see a pattern

why is the book of friends burgundy in this one btw. it was GRAY i mean purple definitely purple aha

ok volume 3 im actually scared for i know i fucked up SOMETHING

HGLKFKGLKFKGFN OK!!!!! OK NOT SUPER AWFUL!!!! just noticed i forgor to color the book of friends fukg

main thing i remembered abt this one was the color of natsume's... attire.... and which characters were present. whats sensei doing all the way up in the top corner tho 0/10

return of the school uniform lmaooooo hm. irrelevant who cares plus didnt ask. all things considered this wasn't as bad as i thought. THE NEXT ONE HOWEVER,

hsngjfgnfjn okayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

sensei's way cuter in this one than i realized wait wtf this cover's cute af how did i never notice. underrated cover -10 @ me. look at his lil BLEP >:O!!!!!!!

i knew there was some fuckshit going on w the yukata in this one ourhg i was just like hehe greeennnn also sensei's there. my work here is done

what is natsume's pose even hgnkg i was straight up making shit up at this point LIKE the first 6 or so covers are SO hard for me to distinguish in my head i should get a free pass for the poses in all of them like i can do whatever i want IM the artist now

oh god whats next vol 5

OK!!!! like a straight 5/10 TBH i literally forgot i was planning on rating these LMAO

i remembered the like white v-neck shirt thing and his pose kind of??? i had NO idea what to do for the yukata tho i just made it orange and u know what?? close enough. my rule of thumb is just like pick a color and then throw flowers all over it u cant go wrong

taki looks so much more mysterious on the original and also wearing a skirt. i gave her a big stick bc i thought i remembered her having one in general but i think i made that up tbh wouldn't put it past me. got her hat right tho hee haw

cant believe i didn't get natsume's beautiful artwork tho look at that little shit sensei up there god hes so ROUMD literally moma material

PROBABLY my best one yet uhhhh but i maybe cheated JUST a little for this one ITS LIKE BARELY CHEATING STOP BOOING ME

as i was toying w the idea of doing this redraw thing i was still working on collecting my Images and Pictures so i kinda started taking note of a few small things here & there and one of them was just. the general gist of this cover SO LIKE that's why it's so good LOL

forgor the flowers tho. i literally forget everything that isn't a character like immediately BUT OK CUT ME SOME SLACK like after a point the covers start being whole ass scenes which are SO much easier to remember shit abt than the fuckin Green Void (p sure this is the last green void cover tho)

8/10 composition is gr8 but details like the shirt & the yellow flowers are wrong, also the stick is backwards. i literally looked up what that thing is called and forgot already tee hee

OK WE'RE NOT DONE W THE GREEN VOID I REPEAT-

fuck dude. fuck. i rly thought vol 6 was the last one LOL not to spoil but as i was grabbing these images i saw a Preview of what's to come and the green void lasts until fuckign volume TEN LOL collapses onto the ground and dies

so erhermrm this is vol 7 lolllll i remembered the bg flowers this time can u believe hahaha distracts u from the fact that LITERALLY everything else is wrong auhghg

u know what the green void turned into bushes and i think that's beautiful.... like points for creativity on my part tbh. like to be completely honest. 3/10 i got the characters right

YO????? GATE CONFIRMED LET'S GO?????? it's definitely the school gate but i choose to believe natsume & tanuma r in jail for crimes and u should too

actually this is shockingly accurate for how much i goddamn struggled w this one gkjsldkg the CHARACTERS are right the OUTFITS are right SENSEI'S THERE urgh i knew one of these covers had tanuma holding sensei like that but i couldn't remember Which

i can't believe i actually got tanuma's pose that close i rly thought i was bullshitting w that one wtf. +5 points instantly

do u like how i just scribbled sensei wherever lmaoooo i drew natsume & tanuma & went like. i think sensei's in this one. PLOP

6/10 honestly closer than i thought

OK........ I SEE........ literally dies

this one i was getting MASSIVELY confused w vol 4 bc i could remember nothing distinct abt either of them except Green and natsume w Big Doggie

i remembered the BARE essentials of the composition but not much else... since i thought the green void was gone i put the green i remembered into natsume's yukata (and then put him in the school uniform again LOL) and went WELP. GUESS I'LL DIE NOW

2/10 honestly one of the worst fucking ones lskdjflsdkg

OK THIS ONE.... i almost died irl trying to remember this shit, even before i started and i was still viewing the covers i was like there is no way in HELL im remembering this shit for vol 10. and i was right

like. Purple. White Mask. Antlers. WILD layered clothing. at first i drew the mask as an actual deer skull but later had a straight up epiphany and redrew it like that which... still not correct but I MEAN.... IT'S PRETTY GOOD

i cant believe most of the purple is the bg oughgh his clothes are WHITE..... this is fucked up. i DID remember the stick tho, bells and everything!! actually bells and nothing else!!!

7/10 ok it might seem high but CONSIDERING this design..... i think i did shockingly well TBH

NOT...... the worst...... one....... i could've sworn he was sitting on a pile of books this is so sad that woulda been so cute 😭

for a second when i saw the real cover again i thought he was sitting ON the bookshelf and i was about to RIOT but its okay it's a step stool. still physically possible

my version of natsume here is so much more like Proper gksld he looks like a school boy... studying in the academy's library... hardworking student.... but no the real one is just sitting there like a wet puppy orz he's not even READING i rly thought he was reading. this is such a huge L

cannot fucking believe i was right abt the window tho. like wrong shape but the fact that it's even there.... giving myself a whole ass point for that one

5/10 i rly thought i nailed this one gksgndfkj

also RIP TO THE GREEN VOID U WILL NOT BE MISSED o7

ah shit ok. well one of them was in the school uniform at least fjgugjdkf

why is my natsume lying there like hes abt to start a therapy session, boy would NEVER-

also the plushie hmnmhnmhngnf i dont KNOW i knew there was some kind of prop there but like gun to my head i woulda died again. main colors that stood out to me for this were green and that bluish purple so i got those into mine but i mean. well u can see

once again a random window in the bg i got correct let's gooooo 5/10

LMAO SPITS OUT MY DRINK WHOOPSIE!!!!!!

this is so fucking bad im choking im gurgling LOLLLL i was SO sure natsume's paper had an eye on it i was POSITIVE this is so fucked up. i mean obvs i picked that up from sensei but like i didn't even KNOW sensei was there. or that there were bg characters at all uuuuuououohghh (matoba ignored +5)

i was like. black yukata red flowers CHECK piece of paper w eye CHECK horns CHECK i even went back and edited the horns to be more accurate i was so proud of myself sobs

ok but i knew it was shit trasjh when those were the ONLY details i could remember bc obviously there was gonna be more going on I JUST DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH MORE.....

straight up dookie/10 no jk fr like 3/10 @ me u need to use ur EYES

OK..... I WAS VERY CONFIDENT ABT THIS ONE..... except for his outfit i knew i was bullshitting that BUT I THOUGHT I NAILED THIS ONE....... the one fucking time i didn't just default to his uniform LMFAO

even remembered the pink flower ball smh and for WHAT. i knew he was sitting in a pile of plushies & blankets or smth but no way in HELL was i even gonna attempt to draw them with a speck of detail. but HEY the plushie i drew for vol 12!!! i knew he existed Somewhere. he doesn't even have a horn tho thats so fucked up i thought he did

obviously the most striking thing abt this cover is the bg w that deep burgundy & the circular window so that was the main thing i nailed down right away (my palette was more muted tho). also natsume sitting there w paper in his mouth but i thought he was mid return when rly hes playing like keep-the-balloon-off-the-floor or whatever the fuck he's doing. i love u natsume

(if i thought he was in the middle of returning a name WHY didn't i include the actual book of friends flksglkd automatic fake fan/10)

8/10 this was like my ace in the hole i was like if i got nothing else i got U volume 14!!! and then

NOT THE FAMILY PHOTO......... FUCKING DIES

man idk shit just end me. whats even going on in this cover im gonna deck u natori. dont ask why this makes me want to commit violence hes just so. URHGHGHnH

i dont know whats happening to me rn looking at this im losing my fucking grip dude who let this happen im gonna hurl this volume into the sun??? i think???

why did i add the other two youkai i just thought they should be included but i played myself i had to draw them from memory and for WHAT. pls tell me i got them at least a little bit right i stg

it's the crossed legts dude if he was just sitting there like a board the way i drew him id be like ah shit it was just natori sitting not natsume too but he just HAS to cross his legs and the fucing elbow propped up holding the glasses im S MAD IM SO MADdestroy him

it's 1am i gotta go. i have to go. right now my mom is calling me i have to fukcng. 4/10 i got the couch colorr right. bye

---

tumglr...... only allows 30 pictures per post..... bc im not on desktop? or is that a site-wide thing now. in any case this is getting long so i think im gonna split it right down the middle into 2 posts so there u go, first 15 volumes. so far my score is ermmm

well i didn't rate the first few volumes.

vol 1: 6/10 decent

vol 2: 6/10 also decent

vol 3: 5/10 composition is Scramboled

vol 4: 2/10 it's SO BAD

so now my overall score is 74/150 fjggudjofjdkgjk doing gr8!!!!!!!!!

ok bye for real ✌️