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#this reminds me of an Impressionist painting
moss-cf · 10 months
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Made another painting
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bby-deerling · 5 months
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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!
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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?
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learnelle · 1 year
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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.
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marzipanandminutiae · 9 months
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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
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lovely-lotus · 9 months
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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.
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larkral · 11 months
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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
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inkbrushmood · 4 months
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Itō Jakuchū: Potential for Flight
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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!
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lysanderrr · 5 months
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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...!
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thevibraniumveterans · 5 months
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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.
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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:
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eldrichfuck666 · 1 year
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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
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charleslebatman · 8 months
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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. 🥵
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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. 🙃
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In yesterday’s newsletter, I noted the murder of Emmett Till as an event whose significance took decades to fully understand. When I wrote that sentence, I hesitated and considered adding a reference to the murders of civil rights workers Andrew Goodman, James Chaney, and Michael Schwerner. The bodies of all three civil rights workers were discovered in a field in Mississippi on August 4, 1964—fifty-nine years ago today.
          To keep my introduction to yesterday’s newsletter short, I omitted the reference to Goodman, Chaney, and Schwerner. On Thursday, Andrew Goodman’s brother David reached out to remind me of the 59th anniversary of the deaths of three brave young men who traveled south to help register Black voters disenfranchised by Jim Crow laws. Their fearless dedication to democracy ended in their brutal murders at the hands of the local KKK chapter in Neshoba County, Mississippi.
           Their martyrdom touched a nerve in America. The illustrator Norman Rockwell sought to capture the brutality of their murders in one of his most important works, “Murders in Mississippi,” aka “Southern Justice.” My wife and I recently visited the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where I took the photo included below.
          The oil painting has a complicated history that is relevant to the struggle for civil rights in America. Norman Rockwell spent his career as an illustrator for The Saturday Evening Post, but left in 1963 because of the Post’s rule that limited Rockwell to painting Black people “only in subservient positions.” At Look Magazine, Rockwell began to explore the issue of civil rights. He painted “Murders in Mississippi / Southern Justice” to accompany an article about the murders of Goodman, Schwerner, and Chaney that inspired a generation of young people to take up the cause of civil rights.
          In the end, Look Magazine published an early pencil sketch that was more impressionistic and less visceral than the final oil painting. The oil painting hangs in the Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge. It is easy to see why the final version may have been too realistic for the readers of Look Magazine in 1964.
          Many Americans may not be able to recall the names Andrew Goodman, James Chaney, and Michael Schwerner, but they know their story. They know that young Americans of all colors and creeds risked their lives to take a stand for equality and liberty. They know that the bravery of those early “freedom marchers” resulted in tremendous progress in civil rights for all Americans.
          Each of us follows in the footsteps of people like Goodman, Chaney, Schwerner, John Lewis, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr., Hosea Williams, Coretta Scott King, and others too numerous to name. When we write letters, send postcards, make calls, march in solidarity, knock on doors, and show up at the polls, we are following the example of the faithful servants of democracy who preceded us.
          While few of us are called to make sacrifices similar to Goodman, Chaney, Schwerner, King, and Lewis, some are willing to take on work that is uncomfortable and possibly confrontational as we strive to “get out the vote.” I was reminded of this fact by reader Lori E. from Indianapolis, who sent the following note about her experiences phone banking to get out the vote in Ohio:
Hello Robert:  I want to thank you for sending the link for phone banks with Ohio Progressive Action Leaders.  I phone banked with them the last 2 nights, and my last call of the night last night was over the moon for me, and I have phone banked my guts out for the last several years.  I thought this woman was wanting to lead me into an argument about Issue 1, but she really didn't know what it was about, and I explained to her in detail why it is bad for everyone - especially the 88-county requirement, which is considerably more horrifying than the 60% requirement.  She wanted to know why Issue 1 was brought before Ohio voters, and I told her the truth.  Her big concern was term limits, and I told her that is something everyone wants to see on each side of the aisle, and that - as well as so many other citizen-led initiatives - were almost certain to never make it to a ballot if Issue 1 passes.  One conversation like that is exactly what makes an entire phone bank worthwhile for me.  She is also concerned about her children and what kind of country they will live in, and I told her that she simply must vote no then. It was one of those moments when I'm pretty certain I reached a person that I convinced to vote.  At the end of the conversation, she thanked me and said, “I know you probably don't hear this enough, but I'm so grateful you called and explained this to me.” I thanked her for making my entire evening phenomenal.  It truly was a magical moment. 
          Lori E.—like each of us—is honoring the sacrifices of the civil rights workers who faced danger, hatred, and violence to carry us to this point. Being able to reach voters by phonebanks, texts, and postcards is a privilege that we exercise because of those who came before us.
We can beat Trump, take control of Congress, and recapture state legislatures and statehouses in 2024. It will be hard. It will require sacrifice. But our sacrifice is a small repayment of the greater sacrifice of those who secured our freedom with their lives.
          Andrew Goodman’s legacy lives on in the good work of the Andrew Goodman Foundation, which supports youth leadership development, voting accessibility, and social justice initiatives on campuses across the country.
[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]
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teashoesandhair · 2 years
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Semi-professional artist here looking at your painting - HOW did you get that lighting?? It reminds me of early impressionist paintings! I'm genuinely impressed, 10/10
OH, thank you ever so!! This is very very kind and I wish I could give a useful answer, but I just sort of... blobbed all the paint on, and I think that in compensating for the fact that I didn't have the right colours to make a pale grey for the rocks, I ended up inadvertently making quite a nice colour palette.
This is the reference photo I used (from here):
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You can kind of tell where I copied the lighting from, but overall I think that the light in my version looks a bit more like early evening, which is almost entirely due to the fact that, lacking black and white paints, I couldn't make a neutral shade of grey, and so I ended up with golds and purples. I also got rid of a lot of the manmade features, like the walls and the path, because I can't paint them! I just can't! Don't make me! I think that accordingly I had a bit more scope to faff around with texture and whatnot.
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(Showing the reference photo also really emphasises how bad my perspective is, oh no)
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tadaxii-i · 11 months
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So, about Sargent.
Why is Dottore's 4th oldest segment's name Sargent, out of all names?
The short answer is because I really like that name.
The long answer is because Sargent is the name of a painter - John Singer Sargent - who specializes in romantic and impressionist art, and that also reminded me of Sergeant, the military title. If you can imagine anything about Desk, you'd know that an artistic military guy is quite fitting for a name. But of course, knowing me, I had to dig deeper and find a good reason for that name to stick.
John Sargent made a panting called Madam X, a woman in a long black dress looking to the side, with two straps on her shoulders. While this painting is now considered his best work, it was subject to a controversy. Originally, Sargent had pursued the subject to get her to pose for him, finding himself to be the only artist worthy of representing her painful beauty. Surely he did.
He painted her with a long black dress, a stretched neck, macabre white skin (skin she was known for) and a strap falling off her shoulder. As he showed his work at an exposition, family and judges were repulsed by the work, finding her disgraceful and too provocative and macabre to be exposed. Even when he corrected the strap, the deed was done, and his career as an artist was threatened.
I'm seeing this as a parallel with the Doctor's passion with experiment of disgusting, unethical or inhumane kind, causing hsi decline and exile from the Akademiya. Desk is the one coming after Zandik, who is still childish excited, and he represents the transition from "game" to "business", just as Silicium represents "young" to "old".
So it's just some nice excuse for me to dig into art history. But his name was already decided for him when it just popped into my head.
Thanks again @staringdeadintotheabyss :D
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liminalpebble · 1 year
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(I have insomnia, so you get some new chapters also available on https://archiveofourown.org/works/43897591/chapters/110372089)
Masterlist link
The Refugee: Chapter 3
Loki spent the rest of the day exploring the charming village in his disguised form. He liked to conduct this little ritual every evening before conducting raids the next day. He enjoyed appreciating the place and its daily rhythms before chaos reigned down.
He liked to remind himself of why he wanted so much for them to submit, to become part of the great empire which would preserve their culture rather than destroy it. It was worth it to reign in his impulse towards destruction to scheme for a greater good. Additionally, the power to either preserve or destroy on such a scale gave him a delicious thrill. The village was small and quaint, and as the sun set blanketing the thatched roofs in amber orange, he found his feet leading him back to Madam Beatrice's, for a meal and the cabaret show.
Loki was delighted at how the hall had transformed for the evening into a scene of glittering hedonism. The working ladies had all vacated their rooms to flirt and mingle in their finest lingerie with the patrons, soft skin and curves paraded proudly in their silk frames. The jeweled and creamy tones of silk, lace, jewelry, and corsetry swirled through the hall like the strokes of an impressionist painting. The many colors and variety of amber and red libations were poured, jostled and gulped down with gusto and joy. Some guests sat over plates of succulent roast vegetables and mutton, warm and pleased with the delicious flavors. Seeing this tempting food and drink, Loki felt his mouth water. He found a small table towards the back. Hoping the charming little barmaid would find him...and find him she did.
“Hello again, sir!” said Lea. She was wearing the same welcoming smile as she glided over to his table, tray in hand. She was still wearing her dull gray barmaid's dress and apron, rough linen contrasting sharply with the rich soft colors around her.
“Hello Lenora,” he said with that toothy charming grin. “Lovely to see you again” and he was delighted to realize he wasn't lying.
She raised her usually-soft voice considerably over the din to ask him what he would like, when Beatrice came up behind her, saying loud enough for all three to hear, “Lea my love, I'll handle it. I can see this gentleman would like some ale and supper and I'll take care of him.”
Loki nodded graciously, confirming it. Bea turned to Lea, “Go get into costume. I'll take over here.”
Bea gave him a friendly but wary glance as she drifted over to fetch his supper and ale, returning with it in her cloud of perfectly set sunny blonde curls and red satin. As she set it down she joined him at the table. She waited this time for him to speak, trying her best to unsettle the imperturbable god. After taking a nibble of his food and a deep cool gulp of ale he spoke deliberately. “Dearest Beatrice, why do I get the feeling that you are trying to keep that barmaid from my company?”
She shrugged. “I told you. I'm protective of her and we both know you're trouble.”
He crossed his arms and threw his head back, laughing gently with closed eyes and a wide grin, clearly proud of the fact. “I like you Beatrice, and I like her.”
Bea sighed. “Yeah that's what I'm afraid of, and you're about to see what makes everyone fall a little bit in love with her. That worries me.”
Loki finished his meal with satisfaction and anticipation at what Bea might mean. The front stage began to glow stronger with magic light as the same magic dimmed the rest of them. Beatrice made her way on stage to welcome and calm the crowd. She managed this instantly with her charming poise and authority, then came back to sit beside Loki, watching him like a hawk.
The show was the usual bawdy fare; burlesque, and snake charmers, sword swallowers, magicians, fire walkers, and circus tricks. Although he was enjoying the mischievous revelry and hedonism immensely, he couldn't help but wonder when the little barmaid would make her entrance, finding it hard to imagine what he might see.
No sooner did he have the thought than a glimmer of elaborate glittering costume caught his eye. The deep purple and red fabric, and bright gold coins cascading off of her head, curves, breasts and hips dazzled his sight as she danced slowly gracefully, with layers of elaborate control. His eyes panned up to see that on her head was a tray full of candles. That room was utterly silent aside from the violinist accompanying her. She moved up and down, shimmying and even coming to the floor as the tray stayed still, her kohl lined ebony eyes boring holes as she stared forward, a soft smirk on her red painted lips. After the candles, the swords came out, bright steel twin scimitars, clearly sharp. She danced with them like partners, maneuvering and balancing them as she picked up the pace. For the finale she balanced both atop her head of long black-coffee-colored hair.
The room erupted with applause as she curtsied politely, genuine gratitude and kindness on her sweet face, cupid-bow lips now pulled wide into a bright smile. It was only when she left the stage that Loki noticed the strata of coins that had been tossed at her feet on the stage.
He was about to speak when he realized he hadn't yet exhaled, and found himself in the very unusual position of not knowing exactly what to say. Beatrice could see an odd and unsettling type of greed in his eyes, and it wasn't for the coins. He snapped back into his mask of smooth inscrutability saying simply, “I see what you mean when you say she's paid well.” Bea did have to laugh a little at that.
“Isn't she going to get her coins?”
“No, she would consider that crass. It's Morhari custom that someone will come to collect them for the dancer instead.”
“Why is that?”
“Because part of the performance and illusion is for the dancer to seem like a regal magical creature who is above such concerns as coin.”
He nodded saying a little breathlessly, “That she is.”
Bea read him and smirked, “You know in all these years, I don't think I've ever seen you genuinely surprised...until now”.
Loki shrugged, “Well, I wasn't expecting that. She is very...surprising” .
“That she is,” replied Bea, gently mocking his deep tone.
Now to Beatrice's utter amazement, she saw him glance over with an expression she had never seen before. He was slightly blushing. She never expect to see school boy embarrassment from the god of mischief, but here it was.
Notes:
Hello all 3's of you who are probably reading this. : ) This is my first fanfic and I'm incredibly nervous to post it, so please be polite and constructive in your critiques. I have many chapters already finished (or mostly finished, bar some perfectionistic tweaking and polishing) so I plan to post regularly if this goes over well. Also, be aware that I am playing very fast and loose with a lot of aspects of the original material and canon for the sake of the story, so please take it with a grain of salt.
P.S. I mention sex work and sex workers but I intend to so with respect and positivity towards their profession. I have tried to avoid any problematic words or descriptions, but please let me know if any exist and I will do my best to fix it.
On who I would cast for the major roles: Loki is obviously the Hiddleston Loki of the MCU. Magnus (original character) is very specifically Domhnall Gleeson in my mind. I imagine Queen Nadia (original character) as Lashana Lynch. Have yet to settle on casting for Lenora herself or Beatrice (OC).
CW: Non/dubious consent. slow burn to eventual smut. violence and torture. Loki is very unambiguously bad, morally complex but bad, and does bad things.
@goblingirlsarah @lokisgoodgirl Thank you! 💛💚💛
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