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#1605
punkspacepirate · 2 months
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yknow what would be great? if across the UK, there was an organised effort one day to take down every union jack all at once, and string up a trans flag instead. all in one day, countrywide. string em high, so every scared trans kid knows at least for a bit, that we are here, that we do grow up, and we're not going anywhere. if they will insist on calling us enemies of the nation...
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dailysmilingnatsume · 4 months
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artschoolglasses · 3 months
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David with the Head of Goliath, Guido Reni, 1605
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mountinez · 11 months
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charles trying to wink at seb, talk about favorite genres ♡
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mapsontheweb · 1 year
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Areas and regions where Polish was an official language, circa 1605.
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miss-malheur · 6 months
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There’s a crack against his window and a smear of red. 
The bird is a sparrow and it is too young for almost November. It’s bleeding from the beak and doesn’t move when Sebastian approaches him. It doesn’t try to get away from him, only chirps miserably. Around him, the snow is dotted with tiny pearls of blood. 
The bird is very soft in the bowl of his hands; it’s trembling like a leaf and one of the wings looks hurt; hanging twisted, feathers ruffled. It still doesn’t try to escape, it only sits and rubs its head against Sebastian’s warm skin. When he rinses his hands later the water in the sink turns slightly pink. 
The bird is tired, snuggled in the nest that Sebastian built for him from some clean cloth and a pair of old gloves. It carefully rubs his head against the cotton wool and chitters animately while Sebastian continues his work on his current sculpture. When he finally falls asleep it’s long after midnight. 
When he wakes, the bird is gone from the makeshift nest on the nightstand next to Sebastian’s bed. Maybe it was a dream. 
Or maybe he’s still dreaming.
Because beside him, curled on his side, face tugged under his arm, lies a young man: his hair looks soft like down and his skin seems smooth like feathers. Everything about him appears to be delicate and light: the slender lines of his limbs, the sharp cut of his jaw and his collarbones. He’s completely naked, smiling in his sleep and too beautiful to disturb. So Sebastian tears himself away from the sight and leaves to make coffee and work in his atelier.
The young man doesn’t speak, he only smiles when he appears two hours later, wearing one of Sebastian’s woollen jumpers and nothing else. There’s a cut on the bridge of his nose and bruises on his cheek, he limps, and holds his right arm awkwardly at his side. 
Sebastian doesn’t ask questions. He offers milk, toast and honey, then continues his work while the young man watches him. 
He doesn’t speak, he only smiles. Day in and day out. More snow falls and covers the trees, the fields and the house while they light candles, drink mulled wine and bury themselves under every blanket they can find. Then the days start to get longer, the colours return and the rays of sunlight wander warmly over their faces when they sit on the patio, holding mugs of tea and inhaling the fresh scent of approaching spring. The cut on the young man’s nose heals, the bruises fade, and the limp disappears. He wears Sebastian’s jumpers and sleeps in Sebastian’s bed. He sits for Sebastian while Sebastian tries to carve his beautiful body from marble. The curves of his waist and hips. The lines of his shoulders and chest. The arch of his spine and throat. 
Sebastian doesn’t know if the young man can’t speak or simply doesn’t want to, but he finds a way to read him; his gestures when he’s comfortable, his expressions when he’s happy, his eyes when he’s sad. 
He sells the sculpture of the young man for more money than he ever dreamed about. But he doesn’t feel satisfaction about it, only regret, and shame. It’s like he’s sold a part of his heart. 
When he gets home that night, he’s greeted by the usual sight of the young man sitting at the window sill, waiting for him; fingers fumbling with the hem of the sweater, smiling, running into his arms—as if Sebastian didn’t exploit his beauty and his trust. 
That night the young man climbs onto his lap for the first time. He pulls him close and then pushes him down before stretching out over Sebastian and covering his body. That night the young man kisses him; he places his hands around his face and bridges the distance between them and all the doubts Sebastian may have had. That night the young man wraps himself around Sebastian; he touches him everywhere, spreads his legs and loses himself between them. 
Sebastian loses himself, too, that night. In the eagerness of his movements, in the sweetness of his mouth, the tenderness of the young man’s embrace. 
In the words the young man finally speaks. 
“I’m so glad that I found you.” “I’m so glad you saved me.”
“I’m so glad I’m yours.”
But Sebastian isn’t sure if it’s not him who belongs to the young man. -- Idea and graphic by me, beat-read by the lovely, patient and amazing @ladypink80 who helped me even though this isn't her ship and she suffers daily from me rambling about these two. I love you, thank you <3
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commodorez · 2 years
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Commodore VICMODEM, 1605 adapter, and C= branded rotary phone
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digitalfashionmuseum · 7 months
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Oil Painting, ca. 1605, Spanish.
By Juan Pantoja de la Cruz.
Portraying Margaret of Austria, Queen Consort of Spain in a white dress with gold details.
Royal Collection Trust.
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solnunquamoccidit · 1 year
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La Natividad
by Doménikos Theotokópoulos (Cretan/Toledan, 1541 - 1614) oil on canvas (128 × 128 cm, c. 1605
Hospital de Santa María de la Caridad, Illescas
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plmq · 1 year
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Übungen zur perspektivischen Darstellung von Türen, Hans Vredeman de Vries, 1605.
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guelendam · 2 years
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Sabah çok güzel bir gün allahın izniyle🥰🤲🏻
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punkspacepirate · 5 months
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NOVEMBER 5TH !
Whether you celebrate it as Destiel Day or Blowing-Up-Parliament Day, I wish you all the best for your queer rage fueled endeavours
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sdeluu · 8 months
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O kadar yalnızım ki, herkes için herşeyi yaparken, o herkes için hiç kimse olduğumun öyle bir bilincindeyim ki..
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artschoolglasses · 2 years
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David and Goliath, Orazio Gentileschi, 1605-08
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james-vi-stan-blog · 11 months
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James VI of Scotland and I of England, c.1605, attributed to John de Critz
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proartsblog · 1 year
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Battle of Salvore, c.1605 by Domenico Tintoretto (1560-1635)
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