#this reminds me of an Impressionist painting

[moss-cf]

Made another painting

[bby-deerling]

birthday cake (zoro x fem!reader)

more zoro fluff, i'm on a roll lately. recently discovered i share a birthday with brook (even though it's currently ages away), and got this silly little idea. wc 1k, zoro bullies sanji. same reader as my other zoro x reader fics!

Though it may not appear so to an outside observer, Zoro hangs onto every word you have ever said, absorbing them all like a sponge.  It scared him at first, worrying he was getting distracted from his training, but over time he figured that singularly focusing on swordsmanship left him with a lot of empty space in his head to fill.  The things you tell him; your poetic musings, all the technical aspects of the paintings you create, your darkest fears, and your eclectic range of knowledge about almost any topic all get filed away in the back of his brain.

His crew often found themselves flabbergasted when Zoro pulled this information to the forefront.  When Chopper wonders aloud how lasers work, he grabs a napkin and sketches diagrams to accompany his explanation that was at least eighty-percent correct.  When Robin comments on the ever developing impressionistic style of your pieces, she is quite amused that he has quite a lot to say about your brushwork as of late, going so far as to compare the way you hold your brush to his grip on his swords; you had stopped choking up so far on your brush at his suggestion to help increase the fluidity of your marks and seen a large amount of improvement in your work as a result.  During the two years he spent on Kuraigana, he drove Perona up a wall whenever he caught her reading a book he recognized and gave her his very strong opinions on the characters that were entirely based on a brief synopsis you had given him.

That’s why it makes him absolutely crazy when he realizes the stupid, shitty cook has forgotten your birthday, one of the most basic, mundane things about you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Zoro had asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“Nothing too far out of the ordinary.  I suppose I’ll make a cake despite the fact that Brook can’t really taste it; I know Luffy will want to throw a big party—” Sanji began, before being cut off.

“Moron.  Aren’t you forgetting something?” Zoro asks, voice dropping and laced with venom.

Sanji goes pale white with the realization that you shared a birthday with Brook—he had bought you a gift ages ago and forgotten about it, the exact date vaporizing into thin air.

“I can’t believe you forgot it’s her birthday too, especially after all the nonsense she did for yours last month.  I told her it wasn’t worth it, but she insisted anyways.” Zoro hisses, jaw clenched.

Sanji ignores Zoro’s hostility and begins flipping through recipes, deciding on an elaborate, three tier sponge cake with strawberry flavored icing.

“She doesn’t want that.” Zoro said, staring over his shoulder.

“Remind me what your job is here again, moss-head?” the cook asks, cigarette in his mouth snapping as he bites down on it in frustration.

Zoro goes to the cabinet that harbors his liquor stash and pulls out a small cardboard box he had bought at the last island.  “This is what she wants.  Do you have the special pan for it?”

Sanji examines the box of angel food cake mix and sighs.  “I’m not feeding her cake mix for her birthday, moss-head.  I’ll make one from scratch.” he says, swearing under his breath when he realized how much of a dent it was going to put into the ship’s supply of eggs due to the sheer amount of egg whites required.

“She wants the box mix.  It’s what she grew up having.  If you won’t make it I will.” Zoro insists, pushing the box back towards the cook.  “You know those cookies she likes from that bakery on her home island?  With tons of sugar piled on top?”

Sanji nods.  “I’ve been there. Zeff and I stole the recipe years ago.  It’s really just a basic sugar cookie—"

“They have to be in the shapes of lambs.” Zoro said.  Sanji desperately searches the moss-head’s face for any sign of him not being serious, but he turns up empty.

“Where the hell am I going to get a cookie cutter shaped like a lamb in the middle of the ocean?” Sanji snaps, secretly grateful for Zoro’s assistance but nonetheless vexed by his the swordsman’s demanding tone.

“Dunno, but you better figure it out soon.” Zoro says with a shrug, thoroughly enjoying the emotional turmoil that this entire situation was causing Sanji.  “Ask Usopp or Franky to make one for you, though who knows if they’re willing at this hour.”  Sanji clenches his jaw and nods and picks up a napkin that Zoro has scribbled a rough sketch on, making a mental note to bring it to Usopp later.

As Zoro turns to walk out of the kitchen, Sanji can’t help but throw him one last remark, despite not being in the position to do so. 

“I’m surprised you remembered all this, moss-head.  I thought all that was between your ears was empty space and ear wax.” he says, not looking up from his recipe book.

“You’re surprised I pay attention when she talks?” Zoro asks incredulously.  Sanji sighs, knowing he practically walked into that one, and prepares for another verbal lash.

“I hope I don’t have to tell you her favorite meals too.  Honestly, I don’t even see why we keep you around when you can’t even get this right without my help.  Stuff like this is why Nami doesn’t give you the time of day, besides being an idiot pervert and all—”

“Out of the kitchen now, moss for brains.” Sanji snaps, shoving his boot into his back and kicking him towards the exit.  Before he closes the door, Zoro pokes his head through the opening.

“No frosting.” he says.  “Don’t forget.”

“None at all?  You’re certain?” Sanji asks incredulously.  Zoro nods affirmatively and slams the door to the kitchen, finally giving the cook some peace and quiet, fingers rubbing his temples to get rid of the headache that the swordsman had given him.

The next day, your shared birthday party with Brook in the Sunny's kitchen is the most memorable you’ve ever had, and you’re nothing short of amazed when Sanji pulls out cake and cookies identical to the kind your mother always served you.

The wonder in your eyes at how Sanji was able to replicate the desserts dissipates and is replaced by appreciation and understanding when Zoro grins at you and squeezes your thigh under the table, a silent admission that he'd helped the cook put everything together.

No wonder everything turned out so perfect; how could it not when he pays so much attention to what you need?

[learnelle]

I recently read The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, which is about a woman who was cursed to never be remembered. Despite her curse, she was immortalised in paintings. This reminded me of the Julie Manet, the muse captured by many impressionist painters.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I am driving myself mad with this

does anyone know a portrait, maybe painted and maybe pastels, from the 1880s that depicts a white woman in a white or light blue dress, 3/4 or full-view, with multiple bracelets and auburn hair that appears to be short (but could just be pinned up with shorter front pieces- the back isn't visible)? it's not terribly distinct; a bit impressionistic but not completely blurry either

every time I see it, I keep meaning to save it and forgetting. It reminds me of one of my fanfic AU universes, and whenever I need to show someone, I can't find it again

help!

EDIT: she is wearing a high-necked, 3/4-sleeve day dress, too, if that helps. her hair appears to be side-parted and just a bit wavy

[midnight-moth]

For the Zeph/Ifrit maybe just some look ins on how they take care of each other? How to do relax after shows, are they a cuddly pair? Do they have any cute things like how Raindrops is the strawberry waffles. Maybe some of their spicy headcanons, who leans more to dominate, who leans more into submissive, any specific kinks they adore? <3

Hellooooo

Okay, I’ll do my best…. I realize I have a lot of ideas about them that I’ve never really put down so it’s like trying to turn an impressionist painting into a word doc. Rambles below the cut

I do think that Ifrit requires as much care as Zeph does, maybe in a different way? In my mind, Ifrit has lots of very BIG feelings. About everything. He has a massive heart, and he cares A LOT. Sometimes to his own detriment. Worrying about everyone else’s needs and wants and desires, whilst sacrificing his own well-being. (Kilonova readers - yes, the same way). I think Ifrit is mischaracterized. I think people view him as a bit simple, a bit of a himbo if you will. I think he thought for a long time, well, if the shoe fits. I think maybe he’s allowed himself to be taken for granted, or used. Because at least he’s still useful.

Zeph who is never looking for anything fast or easy, takes the time to know him. To refuse the initial invitation to Ifrit’s bed. It’s one of the first things he offers because he assumes that’s what people want from him. Ifrit is definitely confused when he is only partially rejected. Zeph wants his time, not his body. (He will eventually, but gray-ace Zeph for the win). Ifrit starts to doubt his own self-perception, that he is some highly sexual being, when he is actually just sexualized.

I think the first time they’re together Ifrit doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t need to perform, but he does have to be present. Zephyr’s white-blue eyes bore right into him. He realizes for the first time, he doesn’t even know what he likes. His MO has always been to try to figure out what will be expected of him, or perhaps it’s outright demanded. He is a people pleaser, and maybe once it was necessary for survival but not anymore.

So to answer the question, of spicy headcanons, I do think for these two they’re pretty damn vanilla. Because once Ifrit knows how truly valued and cherished he is, how loved, he can’t really imagine anything hotter than that. He’ll happily settle for missionary sex just so he can see the way Zephyr looks at him. To know that his pleasure is of equal importance, what he likes and what he does not actually matters (prefers a hand job over head because he’d rather be kissing Zeph than staring at the top of his head). Sorry if that is a boring answer, I really don’t see them being all that kink-driven. I think Ifrit has been there and done that and circled back to wanting mushy gross sappy sex.

Also, I think Zephyr tries so hard to be independent for the above reasons. He doesn’t want Ifrit to feel like he has to take care of him. I think it takes time and trust before he allows Ifrit to care for him. He has to be worn down. Maybe he’s a little bit proud too. (Stubborn AF)

I think Ifrit collects all of the feathers that end up in his bed. Likes to fan them out sometimes, run them over his fingers and appreciate what it’s like to miss someone and know they miss you too. Maybe Zeph plucks a flight feather to leave on his pillow because they’re the biggest and the prettiest. Maybe he leaves them in his shoe, in his pocket, in his guitar case.

I do think Ifrit sometimes doesn’t know how to accept all of this, to feel worthy of it. Reminds me of someone coughwheezehackdewdrop.

As far as food goes, I think Ifrit’s palette is little on the simple side. Whereas Zeph is more adventurous but where they meet in the middle is pasta. Zeph teaches him to make a very simple pasta dough from scratch and it’s the most magical thing to him. I think a simple bolognese is their fav but they’re down for some cacio e pepe too. Once Zeph braised some beef for like 12 hours to make ragu and Ifrit maybe cried a little when he tasted it. Mostly knowing someone would bother to do that for him.

Also 11/10 very cuddly always being cute and finding ways to stay connected. Even if it’s Zeph’s feet pushed against Ifrit’s thigh while they read, or the backs of their hands resting against each other at the dinner table. I think they’re subtle about it. (Most of the time)

Okay I think I’ve rambled enough…

[thedeafprophet]

20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

for Jamie and May because I think Jamie deserves to be taller than May for once sdfghkfds

20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

Upon The Stair

'...Is this an intrusion?” He moves forward, closer into their space, a gloved hand coming up to cup their cheek and tilt their gaze further up towards him. “And here I was, under the impression that my presence was invited. How kind of you, to remind me of my manners.” A moment between The Manager and The Author, for one must make up for any rude transgressions upon ones space.

Word count: 866

Rating: Teen Tags: Kissing, Height Differences, Mostly Just Fluffy Cute Stuff For Once

Also on ao3

Prompt list from here.

“You know,” Jamie says leaning against the archway in the hall with the quirk of a brow,“it is quite rude to intrude upon someone's home, no matter how many times you take it upon yourself to see yourself in.”

It was late too, Mary-Anne having already retired for the night, or no doubt she would have thrown a fit to see him in the home with no prior calling once more. For the best really, Jamie sheepishly knows they put the woman through enough stress already. 

Jamie had been settled in the sitting room for a late night cup of tea, reading into the latest novel they'd gotten their hands on, when they heard the oh so familiar tap of a silver capped cane, vision fuzzy on the edge of their peripheral. The clearest sign of any for an unexpected visitor, though not, of course, an unwanted one. 

Getting up to investigate, they found him standing in the entry hall, seemingly fascinated by the new painting Jamie had gotten hung upon the wall - an impressionist piece they'd purchased from an up and coming artist, always finding themself inclined to support the arts that were pushed back against. 

The Manager turns to look at them as soon as they make their statement, his ever present smile seeming slightly more genuine when his gaze meets theirs. 

“Is that so? Is this an intrusion?” He moves forward, closer into their space, a gloved hand coming up to cup their cheek and tilt their gaze further up towards him. “And here I was, under the impression that my presence was invited. How kind of you, to remind me of my manners.”

Jamie's not entirely sure why he's here tonight, as they glance up to meet his gaze. They're not in any particular state this evening, no more out of it then their baseline is these days. They shan't presume he's come just because he wanted to see them but- well, certainly he must get lonely too. A single performer can be grand, but it's only with a company that a show can truly be performed.

Jamie steps back slightly, moving out of his hold, before turning to dive under his arm in a quick movement. They move backwards toward the stairwell, turning to face him as they speak, the inkling of an idea forming in their mind.  

“Yes, it is!” Jamie can't keep down the amused smile at their play. “In fact, I think I'm rather quite insulted. It's very presumptuous of you - and a disgrace upon my honour!” They take a couple steps up onto the stairwell, before leaning on the banister to stare down at him.

Even now, it doesn't make them that far above him. They smirk down at him regardless, basking in the brief moment of being taller (or at least, being higher up). 

The Manager simply looks amused at their antics, seemingly in the mood to play along with their games. It was always fun for Jamie when he was - though, they never really did begrudge when he had other plans in mind.

“I see I have made a great error in my judgment. “ His words are laden with humour. Both of them know that Jamie cares very little about his habit of showing up unexpectedly. (Both of them know there's very little they could do about it anyways.). “Perhaps, then, there is something I must do? To account for my transgression?”

 Jamie's eyes flick down to his lips, smirk spreading out on their own face. “Oh, I don't know. Perhaps there is something, if it is to be on offer.” They lean forward towards him, leaving it to him to close the rest of the gap. 

A hand reaches up to lightly hold at the hair on the back of their head, before The Manager leans up, his lips at last meeting theirs. The scrape of his beard against their chin is familiar to them by now, but Jamie's pulse flutters all the same at the contact, eyes closing as they lean into the kiss. 

Jamie moves their hands to hold the base of the back of his head, trying to pull him closer as possible, aiming to avoid knocking his hat off just yet. They are oftly unused to this angle - it is rare that they're on the taller end of kisses, and most certainly not with him. Most events require some form of bending on his part - or other, different ways to put them on a more equal level. At least he's able to pick them up, not everyone has such capabilities.  

They're still smiling as they pull back from the kiss, breath quickened just a bit as they open their eyes to look down at him. 

The Manager smirks up at them, evidently feeling as if he'd won the interaction, but even he was still leaning forward himself, closer into their space. 

“And has that laid everything on account for? Or must I continue to abate my actions?”

“Hm, let me think on it.” Jamie says, a mischievous twinkle rising to their eyes.“What else might you have on offer?” 

They'd like to know their options first, before they decide.  

[lovely-lotus]

Do you read much fanfic these days? So you have any current favorites (any fandom)?

I'm sorry for this very belated response!! I've been holding off because I wanted to make a whole rec list, and still plan to do so, but I thought I might as well just respond with a couple of fics I've been reading to make some progress. Getting started is better than nothing after all <3. As a heads up, this list contains many incomplete fics. I know a lot of people don't read incomplete fics but I often find the character dynamics, prose writing, and/or worldbuilding worthwhile and fascinating, even if the story isn't done yet. So, here are just a few stories I've been reading and why I recommend them. Note: This list is 18+. Please check out and mind the tags and ratings for every story.

aurora polaris by AGlassRoseNeverFades: Why I recommend it: This story is just gorgeous. Beautiful prose writing and a premise that'll just sink its hooks in you. I've reread this like 4 or 5 times at this point. I'm so obsessed with the bond Tom and Harry share in this story. If you want a lot of non-verbal (and verbal) intimacy, this story will be your cup of tea. In general, I love romance stories with lots of love. My favorite romances always make it abundantly clear how much two people love being together, so this story was just everything I ever wanted.

paved with the best intentions by ailora Why I recommend it: Cutest baby Tom ever!! I absolutely adore him so much. His and Harry's relationship makes me so soft. I think the author does an amazing job on the dialogue and on portraying baby Tom's perspective and how he feels about Harry. If you want a really cute story with a helping of angst and lots of tension, this is the one for you!

anemone by A_Single_Cactus Why I recommend it: I usually like Ginny. Tbh, she's not my favorite (the girl/boy-next-door type / best friend's sibling usually isn't for me), but I understand why she and Harry ended up together in the end (which is ofc all leading back to TMR again). However, I've recently been loving the trope of TMR coming up with some elaborate plan to steal Harry and this story kickstarted that completely. I really enjoyed the pacing of this story and it has such good reread value. I think the author is very good at conveying emotions.

hologhost by vash (hanamichi) Why I recommend it: Some of the most gorgeous prose writing I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Floaty and gossamer as a dream. This story reminds me of an impressionist painting with a faint undercurrent of panic through it all. I cannot wait to see where it goes.

Anything by mosiva. At this point, I will read any Tomarry that mosiva writes. Absolutely gripping, thrilling dynamics between them in all of their works.

the world is yours and mine by othernight Why I recommend: I'm slightly foggy on this story, but I have a really positive impression of it in my mind. I think I loved the worldbuilding and the burgeoning Tomarry dynamic. I also remember really liking Harry's characterization.

Thank you so much for your ask and I hope you find something new to read!! Sorry again for how late this response is.

[larkral]

Happy Wednesday! Thanks for the tag @shrekgogurt and @artsyunderstudy! It is so fun to see y'all's excitement about your work!

I was anticipating saying something today about how I've started editing ADA and I don't have anything not spoilery to share, and blah blah blah, but my past self was WRONG about that. Because I've started writing something new and incredibly self-indulgent: my Simon gets adopted by Gay Mums AU.

Enjoy this, the first moment one of the mums sees Simon:

The baby is fair skinned, but speckled all over with moles, like an impressionist painting. When I bend over to pick her up, clear blue eyes lock onto me with a focus I didn't know babies were capable of.  I lift her out of the cot and look down at her. I'm hypnotized. Her little arm comes out of the blanket. She's only wearing a diaper. The moles spread down her body, and her arm has black swashes across it that spell out Simon Snow.  Simon. Him, then.  My heart swells, and it's about to spill over. I close my eyes. I press my nose to his head, and breathe it in. His skin is so fragile, so tender under my nose, and he smells fresh, clean, like forest air and innocence. 

This story is so self indulgent about being a parent, and also so self indulgent about being a queer person who came of age during the time when gay rights were emerging into the mainstream. I cannot even tell you how excited I am to share it with everyone. Especially any baby gays who weren't around during these exciting times.

Tags below the cut!

Hey everyone! I hope you are overflowing with excitement about something you're working on today. If so, share it with us! If not, take a breath and remember you don't have to produce anything to be here and be loved. @stitchyqueer @thewholelemon @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb @ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias @petedavidsonscock @takitalks @yeonjunenby @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ @forabeatofadrum  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @j-nipper-95 @whogaveyoupermission

[inkbrushmood]

Itō Jakuchū: Potential for Flight

Swallow and Camellia by Itō Jakuchū (c. 1900). Ink and color on paper; Meiji era woodblock print reproduction.

I am enraptured by Itō Jakuchū’s art. The stark contrast between the ink-black background and the bold use of color on the foreground is immediately striking, sure. But it’s more than that.

The hues on Swallow and Camellia are not jump-at-you bright, but they are made dazzling nonetheless by graceful saturation. The crimson on the camelia is both soft and intense. Earthy tones on the leaves capture a natural elegance that reminds me of furyu (known in Chinese as fengliu) — a sense of sophisticated beauty present in nature. The concept of furyu originated in the Heian period and often translated to dazzling gardens inspired by a mindful appreciation for nature.

Some of that furyu-esque botanical elegance can be appreciated in Jakuchu’s paintings, with their intricate use of detail and pattern. Jakuchu often employed pointillism in his artworks, and though the context of his art is different from the Western perspective, they do have an impressionistic quality to them, even though Impressionism emerged in the late 1800s!

In any case, Japan’s hermitism during the Edo Period would have echoed the principles of furyu, which has been defined by art historians as “the recluse’s sense of aesthetics” (see an academic paper by Qiu, 2000, that explains the topic of furyu thoroughly).

Elegance certainly seems to be the main descriptor for Jakuchu’s work. But there is also a transcendent depth to his art. From a Westerner’s perspective, the use of a dramatic dark background is reminiscent of tenebrismo, and achieves a similar effect. Themes of transient beauty and the ephemeral quality of nature are brought to the foreground for consideration. Jakuchu, who’s artistic surname means “like the void”, was considered a lay Zen brother by the Buddhist community. As such, an appreciation for the uniqueness of the present moment contrasted against the existential experience of nothingness (not necessarily as dreadful as it sounds) would be a theme in line with Buddhist thinking.

Simply put, themes of life against death and activity against stillness seem to be at play in Jakuchu’s art. An interplay of color and starkness, darkness and motion situate the viewer in the scene captured by Jakuchu’s eye. Forms are outlined in such a way as to create a charged essence that pops into awareness. In this way, Jakuchu urges the viewer to appreciate the present moment with an artful, engaged eye.

Posted originally at INKBRUSHMOOD.com. Read + Discuss!

[lysanderrr]

Your art is so gorgeous and makes me unbelievably happy. I adore everything about it and all the emotions it makes me feel. I'm kind of bad at talking about art, but the way you place the characters in the photos and the backgrounds you choose and the composition of all your pieces just makes me feel something really profound? And I love how some of your colored pieces sort of remind me of classic impressionist paintings (like the style of painting you use and the way you use color?) Anyways you make my favorite sephiroth/cloud art so thank you so much for sharing it. ♥

oh🥲🥲🥲Thanks a bunch for your kind words! I'm super glad that my art makes you happy. Your support means a lot to me...!

[toolazytodecide]

The Tortured Poets Department being about Theo and Boris

Fortnight

This song is very much giving Boreo having a fling while Theo was in Europe and Theo being haunted by the memories.

Lyrics:

"I was a functioning alcohol until nobody noticed my new aesthetic. All of this to say I hope you're okay but you're the reason."

"I took the miracle move on drug. The effects were temporary. And I love you. Its running my life."

The Tortured Poets Department

This is so Boris talking about Theo??? I'm sorry but its facts.

Lyrics:

"You're in self sabotaging mode, throwing spikes down on the road. But I've seen this episode before and still love the show. Who else decodes you? Who else is going to hold you like me? No nobody. No fuckinbody. Nobody."

Down Bad

This song is giving Boris after Theo left Vegas.

Lyrics:

"Did you take all my old clothes? Just to leave me here naked and alone. In a field in my same old town that somehow feels so hollow now."

"Fuck it if I can't have us. I might just not get up. I might stay down bad. Like I lost my twin. Fuck it if I can't have him."

Guilty as Sin

Theo bring thirsty and ashamed.

Lyrics:

"I keep recalling things we never did. Messy top lips. How I long for our trysts? Without ever touching his skin. How can I be guilty as sin? I keep these longings locked lowercase inside a vault."

I Can Fix Him (No, Really, I can)

Lets be honest theres no fixing men like them lmao, so let's give them a go trying to fix each other bc this is somehow both of them

Lyrics:

"The smoke cloud billows out his mouth like a freight train through a small town. The jokes he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud.

"They shake their heads saying 'God help her' when I tell them that's my man. But your good lord doesnt need to raise a finger. I can fix him. No really I can."

loml

GUYS! THIS ONE HURT! They are the loves and losses of each others lives

Lyrics:

"Who's gonna stop us from waltzing into rekindled flames? I know the steps anyway. We embroidered the memories of the time I was away. Stitching 'We were just kids, babe."

"When your impressionist paintings of heaven turned out to be fake. Well, you took me to hell too. And, all at once, the ink bleeds. A con-man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme."

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

This song just reminds me of how Boris pretends to be happy when hes miserable. Specifically after Theo left Vegas.

Lyrics:

"I can show you lies, cause I'm a real tough kid. I can handle my shit. They said babe you gotta fake it til you make it and I did. Lights, camera, bitch smile. Even when you want to die. He said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short."

"I'm so depressed I act like it's my birthday everyday. I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague. I cry a lot, but I am so productive. It's an art. You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart."

[thevibraniumveterans]

REBELS REWATCH

S1E11 — IDIOT’S ARRAY

In the Ghost’s main cargo hold, Ezra sits atop a few crates, levitating his helmet and likely practicing his focusing skills. Nearby, Sabine sits on green and off-white speeder bike, receiving pointers from Hera. Zeb walks in, looking guilty; Hera is just as confused as Sabine.

Zeb explains his side of the story, while Ezra looks on, surprised at the revelation at Chopper being betted on, and to Lando, of all people.

Zeb and Ezra are hanging out by the holochess table, keeping an eye on Lando and Chopper, who are standing in front of a large mural of a phoenix that Sabine has painted.. Zeb notes, “Can’t believe the little bolt bucket’s actually waiting on that guy.” Ezra is entirely too smug at this turn of events, leaning back with one hand behind his head. Grinning, he says, “I can’t believe you lost Chopper. Good thing I wasn’t there. You’d have bet me.” Zeb replies, “Mmm, nah. You wouldn’t have covered the pot. Besides, I think Calrissian cheated.” Ezra tells him, “You’re just a sore loser. Lando seems nice enough.” Zeb, however, disagrees: “I’m telling you, I don’t like that guy.”

Sabine approaches Chopper and Lando, who greets Sabine and says, “I understand this is your work.” Ezra, however, becomes suspicious and leans forward, a frown replacing his grin. Lando continues, “Reminds me of Janyor’s protest paintings on Bith.” Sabine, being the Ghost’s residential artist who takes pride in her various pieces of artwork, shows that she understands historical and art-related references, something she likely got from her dad. She responds, “Janyor of Bith is a major influence.” Appreciative of fine art, Lando compliments Sabine’s artistry: “Well, your work is even more stunning in its simplicity.” Ezra gets up from his seat, telling Sabine, “Hey, I told you your stuff was good months ago.” Sabine frowns, and responds, “Yeah, but you didn’t know why.” This is curious because while Sabine is much more art-inclined, Ezra isn’t too much into the arts. He’s only said that because he might be a bit jealous, as Lando is a bit of a ladies’ man himself. However, it should be noted that Sabine told Ezra he “didn’t know why”, as a reference to how he didn’t know the specifics of what or why she was painting, who she was inspired by, and so on, but Lando, having pointed out a historical fact, understood the finer points of fine art, and complimented on the technicality of Sabine’s artwork. Lando notices this exchange, and says, “That’s hardly fair.” Sabine looks away. Lando continues, “He’s just a child with no experience of the galaxy.” (Which, in a way, is true, and as a result, ends up becoming something of an unintended backhanded insult.) Zeb, watching this whole interaction go down, tries to cover the fact that he’s laughing at Ezra’s expense. Ever proud of her artwork, and partly because hosts should impart a good impression upon their guests, Sabine asks, “I don’t suppose you’d like to see my more impressionistic pieces?” Sabine uses a technical term to showcase her knowledge and skill, not because she’s a showoff, but because it’s a good thing when an artist invites someone who is appreciative of their artwork’s specific technicalities. Lando replies, “I happen to be an impressionistic connoisseur. That means—” In the background, Ezra remains standing, hands on his hips, none too pleased. He looks away but interrupts: “I know what it means.” But he doesn’t. Sabine walks away. Ezra turns to Zeb and asks, “Hey, what does that mean?” Zeb replies, “A lot less than he thinks.” Having changed his mind, Ezra notes, “I don’t like that guy.” Yes, Lando is shady, charming, and a smooth-talker, but it’s less so about those and more so that it’s most likely, and pretty evident, that Ezra is jealous that some stranger is talking to his crush. It should also be noted that jealousy is not a good look on Ezra.

After some time, Sabine says to Kanan, “Quite a day you’re having. First, you lose Chopper, now Hera.” Sabine looks away, but interestingly, the shot stays on her just barely a second longer than is absolutely necessary.

The Ghost leaves. Inside, Ezra is tinkering with the speeder bike that Sabine had previously been checking out earlier this episode. Zeb, Lando, and Chopper approach with the cargo as promised. Ezra wonders what is inside, but Lando lies. Ezra is a bit suspicious, and Zeb is confused. There seems to be something alive in there.

Hera escapes the other ship in an escape pod as discussed, and Sabine heads to the airlock with Lando to intercept Hera.

Ezra and Zeb discuss whether they should open the crate; it is opened anyway, and a puffer pig comes out. Ezra thinks it’s “kinda cute” but doesn’t know what it is. The creature, however, sees Zeb and flees up the ladder, and Ezra and Zeb pursue it. The puffer pig bounds past the pilot’s bay where Kanan is sitting. Kanan is bewildered, and Ezra shrugs and continues chasing the poor animal. He and Zeb continue running around trying to catch the puffer pig, and pass the corridor where Chopper, Sabine, Hera, and Lando are standing. Sabine is surprised, as is Hera. Lando, unhelpfully, states, “That’s what was in the crate.” The puffer pig bumps into Chopper but continues running; Ezra takes advantage of that and tries to grab the creature, but falls down. Lando advises that the best course of action is to not scare the creature, but that is exactly what Zeb inadvertently does.

The puffer pig, well, puffs up. Sabine and Hera are astonished.The puffer pig scared stiff, blocks the hallway, momentarily separating Ezra and Kanan from Sabine, Hera, and Lando. On one side of the poor creature, Ezra overhears Lando on the other side suggest that he’d like to purchase some of Sabine’s artwork. On a surface level, this could mean that the Spectres get paid either way, which could benefit them. However, Ezra isn’t too pleased with Lando’s phrasing. Sabine asks Lando, “Really? My work. You’d pay?” Ezra clambers up the puffer pig, stating, “Oh, he’ll pay.” The creature gets scared further and expands again.

Of course, the Imperials discover the Spectres’ ploy, and fires upon them. Sabine, stuck on one side of the Ghost, fires back at the Imperials from the gunner’s bay.

Hera confronts Lando: “All right. Enough with the divide and conquer. You think by setting us against each other, you’ll keep us off-balance enough to get what you want. But what you want depends on my crew working together in sync. Is that clear?”

The Ghost touches down on Lothal, puffer pig and Lando in tow. The crew exits the ship, and Ezra tells Zeb, “This time, try to keep it calm. We don’t want you inflating it again.” Zeb protests: “Hey, it wasn’t my fault.” Half amused, Ezra responds, “It’s your faces fault.”

A shootout ensues, and Ezra and Kanan take cover behind a few crates. Ezra reaches for his newly constructed gun/saber combo, and Kanan immediately disapproves of Ezra using the saber. Ezra says, “You worry too much.” He takes aim, and downs a guard with an energy bolt. Kanan is surprised, amazed, and a little zealous: “Hey, mine doesn’t do that.” Ezra replies, “Nope. I might not be able to sword fight yet, but I can shoot.” Kanan grins: “Kid, you continue to impress.” Ezra notes, “…Just not as much as Lando.”

Taking advantage of the puffer pigs distractions, Sabine leaps onto a landspeeder, and jumps onto the other side of it, catapulting herself into the air, bounces off the puffer pig, and disappears to the other side of the building. Illuminated by the night sky, she takes aim at two assailants, and shoots twice, her shots scaring them enough to run.

Post shoot-out, the Spectres walk back to the Ghost. Zeb and Chopper head up the ramp, followed by Hera and Kanan. Ezra and Sabine are the last to board. Kanan and Hera have a little discussion. Hera says, “Well, we got Chopper back.” Kanan replies, “I”m looking for a positive here.” Hera tells him, “There are a lot of things we couldn’t accomplish without him. You should appreciate that more.” Behind them, Sabine and Ezra walk up the ramp. Evidently, Ezra has been paying attention to the conversation, because he proceeds to admit, “I always appreciated you, Sabine.” Note that here, the statement is completely DEVOID of any flirtatious intent and tone, and it’s only expressed with honest admiration. Sabine takes off her helmet, closes the ramp, smiles, and responds with, ���Yes, Ezra, I know.” As Hera and Kanan continue their conversation, Ezra follows Sabine into the ship. Hera turns around to head back into the ship as well.

Sabine stops before a pile of crates, and grins: “Oh, hey, Chopper stole Lando’s fuel!” By the landing bay, Ezra watches the conversation, and smiles.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Thirteen/Amy/Rory excerpt (spoiler free): aka how is this one of the most romantic things I have ever written?

It’s the first time the Doctor’s looked at any of Amy’s paintings with the eyes of this body, all of her memories intact, and she finds that they’re both of her, technically, but one is of this body and one is of the last. 

Amy’s style on these ones is halfway between Impressionist and Realist, with brushstrokes capturing some fine details but clearly focusing more on the emotion of the piece than capturing every curve or flat plane of the face. Both bodies are captured in ¾ poses, half-profile, half-front-of-face, in expressive brushstrokes and vibrant colors.

Her last body is all sharp angles, from the cut of his bowtie beneath his chin to his longer chin to his prominent cheekbones to the sweep of his hair curving over one side of his face. He is wreathed in golden streetlight filtering through snow, the only spots of color on the painting the green of his eyes and the red of his bowtie, the color scheme and his warm smile recalling Christmas and happiness with one major exception- the ghosts in his green eyes, so painful they almost feel still alive.

Her current body, on the other hand, is painted in her usual clothes, all maroons and yellows and shades of blue, her hair a golden halo around her head, her silver earring chain glinting in the sunset behind her. It’s not a specific memory, but rather a conglomeration of emotions; Amy has transposed this body onto Women Wept, the leaves of the willow at sunset waving behind the Doctor's head, framing her with the oncoming spring, warmth against the cold- a recurring theme, apparently.

The Doctor is not truly one for vanity. Not when it comes to her face. She can become attached to bodies, to features, the longer she has them or the more they remind her of certain companions, and some bodies even wish for certain traits (ginger hair was certainly a weird sticking point among a few of them), but she’s never considered herself particularly handsome or attractive of the face in any particular body. That’s not to say that she’s ever considered herself ugly or un attractive, per se, just that she’s never always been rather neutral on her own beauty.

But the way that Amy paints her takes her breath away. Amy makes both bodies, both faces, look ethereal, beautiful, striking. She makes them look alive. 

She makes them look loved.

The love in Amy’s brush strokes is as clear as Rory’s hands on the Doctor’s face and body whenever he’s taking care of the Doctor. They each have their ways of showing love, the Doctor knows, but both are rooted in faith. In kindness.

The Doctor tears her eyes away from the paintings to look up at Rory. It almost feels normal, Rory perched on his seat with his textbook as the Doctor's mind races. Usually it's on tinkering, but now, it's on these paintings. On the ghosts that Amy has conjured onto canvas.

There is a tension in the air, but not a negative one. The Doctor’s two hearts are beating quick in her chest, but not out of fear. Out of anticipation. Out of question. Before she gets to kiss Rory again, she knows she needs to broach the subject of apology. Of trust. Of what it felt like to have his lips against these lips, his body against this body’s, of the fact that when she looks at him she now has the same problem she has with Amy, where he has the prettiest face she knows and she wants to spend the rest of her lives kissing it.

But instead, what comes out of her mouth is, “So, these paintings.”

Rory looks up from his textbook. “The paintings,” he agrees, voice encouraging, almost as if he expects her to ask the question.

And the Doctor has never been one to hold back her curiosity, so she does. “In both of them-" She swallows, the words hesitating on her tongue, but then they slip out, unbidden, as her half-formed thoughts always do. "Amy makes me look beautiful.”

Rory's response is just as easy. “It's hard not to.”

READ THE REST HERE:

[eldrichfuck666]

Heya! 🫶🏻 19% for Ansel & Eudelme, please~

OMG SDJSKDJSKDSKDJ Thank you so much for sending me an ask about both of them! Eudelme is my current obsession and i can't already stop talking about him and honestly I don't want to stop at all! Thank you sm! :^) I was so happy to open my inbox and see an ask from you! 💞

19%. How does your character's living space reflect their personality?

I've written TOO MUCH (I have 0 self control whatsoever..) so you need to click XD

Ansel's living space is quite chaotic, actually! Ansel lives in a small Gothic mansion in Britchester most of the time, and literally every detail and decor item in the mansion has some specific meaning for him, although he tried to move away from his typical self-expression in it - not to use only black. From the outside, it is a complex architectural structure, that seems to be very cold and with a huge number of windows (that are often have black curtains over them, because Ansel is allergic to the sun) with exquisite mosaics reflecting the subjects of paintings that remind him of the home he no longer has - masterpieces painted by Botticelli, Renoir and his most beloved artist, Francisco Goya. I think Francisco Goya's paintings convey his personality quite well and you have no idea how much Ansel really loves the motifs of these paintings and how many objects he keeps with them in his house. Inside, the mansion is furnished with great love, but it is Ansel's personality that is mostly noticeable in the decor, which is… quite a lot. He collects old manuscripts (especially medieval ones) and music boxes (he loves classical music and Russian music boxes of the late eighteenth century very much! He is comforted by watching the moving figures of ballerinas and couples dancing at the ball to the beautiful music written by Berezovsky and Fomin. This is one of the most effective ways for him to help him cope with anxiety) - and believe me, he really has a lot of them! They are everywhere - in all the open carved cabinets, on the shelves… Just like the music records for his old record player, hand-painted by himself. He has records by Queen, David Bowie, Portishead, Massive Attack and so many artists whose music he is inspired by when he writes his own - and many of his own records and posters! They hang on the walls (right next to paintings by outstanding Impressionists and frescoes by Gothic artists, yes!) and lie everywhere - even on the dark wooden floor. And also, you can find countless glasses everywhere (for blood, of course! for him, this is the same as leaving endless cups of tea and coffee in his workspace). In the living room there is a huge church organ and there is a whole acoustic system - and in fact, all the rooms of his mansion are rooms for writing music! He likes to use the organ for acoustics and some specific notes in his songs! By the way, he has a whole collection of insects, which he also uses to record sound on the background, for a more interesting and creepy, charming sound - he has a special room for his winged and crawling pets! He loves butterflies and dragon flies, and also, he has some strange fascination for big bugs - he finds them very cute and he has also painted their wooden homes that were made by his husband! :') Although, their bedroom is something from another dimension - it's full of giant pillows and again, glasses for blood or with blood! The ceiling in their bedroom is a work of art in a literal meaning - they painted it in Baroque style with stars and clouds! Also, there's a fridges to store blood in, which is really practical since he has to drink blood to live, like a vampire 🩸🫀 Also, he's for sure Hannibal's number 1 fan, lmao!

Eudelme's living space, on the other hand, is...forest, so it's really interesting to imagine! The whole forest is living space, where he moves freely and in fact, this is quite a difficult question! He has always been a forest dweller and has lived there all his life, despite his keen interest in people and life outside the forest, he has always understood that he is the part of the forest that provides balance and creates the necessary boundaries between the living and the dead, humans and creatures living in the mysterious and mystical forest of Villefranche. However, he definitely has his own personal space in the forest, belonging only to him - a huge field of fireweed, in which he is alone with himself and the wonderful soothing aroma of these wild flowers. Almost no one even from the inhabitants of the forest knows about this place - here he likes to leave old books lost by travelers who went to the forest and never left it again. Here, under the tall fir trees, he keeps the compasses and watches he found, the owners of which will never return for them. He is very fond of the wanderers' personal items. He sleeps under the huge branches of an old coniferous tree, hiding him from prying eyes and unless restless fireflies find him sleeping under them. He often falls asleep reading found entries from the diaries of missing people, and yet, he does not fully understand human languages, but he guesses - he seems to feel emotions permeating the pages yellowed with time, covered with elegant and delicately woven spider webs. Here he feels completely safe, being in the soft embrace of coniferous twigs enveloping him. He has a beautiful blanket sewn from scraps of different warm fabric, into which he has invested an incredible amount of love. What his personality is definitely connected with is a large number of ribbons and bows, which he also collects on the flower field. He likes to decorate his hair with them as much as with curls of complex ivy patterns :')

Not sure If i answered it the right way, but here's what came to my mind! Also, very sorry for this being so long, it was so unnecessary skksks AND I APOLOGIZE FOR MY BAD WRITING AND DESCRIPTIONS I HATE IT TOO I swear I tried my best!! Т.Т

[jagar-tharns]

17 and 18 :)

17.) what’s your favorite painting? and describe how it makes you feel?

Oh gosh! I actually have 4!

First Is Sunflowers by VanGough (Anything by him tbh, i relate to his struggles a lot so his work means a LOT to me)

The yellows are so warm, its a welcoming painting to me, yet some of the sunflowers drooping and losing their petals gives it a hint of sadness behind the warmth.

Second is Water Lillies by Monet!

Its a very serene and gentle painting. When i see this painting, it makes me feel so calm and relaxed. It also reminds me of Trois Gymnopedies by Satie, which is in the impressionist style of music!

third HAS to be Dante and Vergil in Hell by Bouguereau

This piece is GORGEOUS, with many feelings in the painting. The smugness of the demon, the abject horror of Dante, the indifference of Vergil, the malicious visciousness of Gianni Schicchi, and the intense agony of Capocchio. It makes me feel SO many intense emotions, it's such a cool painting.

Fourth is Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan on 16 November 1581 by Repin

This painting is so sad. Like. Brings me to tears if i think about it too long sad. The expression of horror and guilt on Ivan the terrible's face is overpowering as he cradles his dying son, who is crying and staring off into space, though has his hand on his father's arm.

Honorable mention goes to Boschs Garden of earthly delights, which is like. Fun as FUCK. It has a disembodied ass playing a horn amongst the chaos.

18.) describe your personal style?

Honestly? I have no idea, I like a LOT of styles. I like to get weird with it!

[charleslebatman]

Thank you bestie for the insightful answer about art, and lemme tell you, the examples that you have brought are really incredible. I will include them asap in my art playlist. The Strazza's bust reminded me of Veiled Christ by Sanmartino. Holy cow, the magnificence!

Oh yes. Incredible, the veil work is just sumptuous. I can even imagine the complexity of carving something that's supposed to be extremely thin out of marble. With such finesse. 🥵

It reminds me, in painting, of what Edgar Degas was trying to convey in the little dancers of l'Opéra de Paris. He sought to represent the transparency of tutus, with the reflection of light at a given moment. That's a rough summary, of course. But Degas, in painting, is also incredible.

The Impressionist movement fascinates me in its ideas and complexity. I love its history, because it was also a moment for them to detach themselves from photography, which was gaining in importance. Painting had become a bit obsolete with the public, and painters had to find new techniques and messages to attract the public. There’s a real link between photography and impressionist movement.

In short, I moved away from sculpture. But little details like that are really what make a canvas or a sculpture a work of art. I had a class, on the art of detail it was really interesting about how painters play on details and sometimes you only see a tenth of it. 🙃