#Artist Au

[jellitchi]

artist au, gardening

[cewwart]

artist atsushi!!!!

(i just really wanted to draw atsushi with raccoon tail hair and angel fangs)

(●´ω｀●)

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland (1910s Artist AU)

And Edwin's heart stops when he sees the uncovered canvases, these glimpses into Charles' soul, because finally, Edwin understands. 

Because Edwin looks at the paintings and he sees the city, captured in expressionistic brushstrokes. He sees the same damn city he fell in love with, even with its smog and its underbelly and its crampedness and its bustle, because it was the city that brought Charles back to life. He sees the golds and the blacks and what might have been called chiaroscuro in another lifetime, another art movement. He sees Charles’ masterful ability to capture life and translate it into brushstrokes and shapes and colors.

And most importantly, Edwin sees himself. Sees a figure in some paintings and a face in others, all familiar sharp planes and dark hair and a bowtie and an overcoat that Edwin could not abandon back at St. Hilarion’s. He sees gray-green eyes the shade of lake water, except these are not waters a boy could drown in- these are the eyes of a boy who once pulled another boy from a lake.

And Edwin knows, in this moment, that Charles loves him. God, does Charles love him. 

Because Edwin sees the way that Charles paints him, all haloed by the bronze and gold streetlights, capturing the planes of Edwin’s face in the way that no photographs ever could, painting him sharp and witty and tired and beloved and alive, alive, alive.  

-aletterinthenameofsanity, you always look so lovely (paint how you see me)

@tragedy-machine @every-moment-a-different-sound @pappelsiin @mellxncollie @nix-nihili

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @tumblerislovetumblerislife @catboy-cabin @bitterdesert @idliketobeatree

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Big Name Feelings

FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.

Length: 103,997 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Safe in Public, Human AU, Slow Burn, Fake Relationship, Pick-me-up

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ghostrat

*Minor Spoilers* It's here! The finale of one of the most entertaining and immersive fanworks that I have ever experienced is finally upon us! I feel like most of you who follow me here are aware of this fanfic or have read it. However, for those who haven't or might come across this post later: I'm begging you to read this one. Buckle up; it's a long post today.

So, if you're not aware, this fanfic involves writer Crowley and fan artist Aziraphale. Crowley, being ace, seeks a boyfriend to shield him from unwanted attention during an upcoming convention. Aziraphale, smitten, agrees to be the fake boyfriend. This Arrangement is sure to work out exactly as planned!

Every one of the author's stories feels cinematic to me. The worlds are always so real and immersive, but this one, in particular, will have you feeling like you're actually watching the story unfold in real life. Some of that is achieved through embedded media like chats, artwork, and Tumblr posts, bringing a sense of reality to these conversations. The rest comes from really rich prose. You'll flow through it very easily, yet deeply.

The use of fandom and a convention as the backdrop for this fic was, to be honest, genius. I've seen attempts before, but none captured the spirit quite like this one. The fandom lore for The Nice and Accurate Prophecy (the in-universe fandom they're in) was rich enough for us to fully grasp the shape and feel of why they loved it so much, yet it never impedes the ongoing story. This story perfectly captured what it's like to be a fan: how friendships develop, how ideas and fan theories are freely discussed, the passion for a shared topic. The con, in particular, will fill anyone who has ever attended a fan convention with a strong dose of nostalgia and love. Oh, and having them in their 50s? Thank you! There is no age limit to fandom!

Having Aziraphale as the artist and Crowley the writer was not the most obvious choice, but it's one that worked amazingly well for the story! Crowley struggles with words and expressing his feelings in real life. However, in stories, he can build his own world and express whatever emotions are on his mind. Aziraphale, who does not wish to draw attention to himself in real life, expresses himself through his bold and beautiful artwork. His specialization in traditional, physical artwork is so fitting for him, though he's not unwilling to try new tech. There is a scene where they stumble upon some street art that Aziraphale had done. I teared up at that scene, and it's not even angsty! Just the casualness of it, how it's not Aziraphale but Crowley who boldly leads them to it, how Aziraphale doesn't sing his own praises. He's not self-deprecating, but he doesn't celebrate his work. He's still learning that he has value that's worth celebrating. At least now he has Crowley to teach him to be proud of himself.

They are both beautifully written characters. It's a real testament to the skill of the author to bring these characters into such a different reality and have them be unmistakably Aziraphale and Crowley. Sure, they're updated for the time and setting, but their souls are still the angel and demon we know and love. This setting is an amazing way to explore the different sides of their personalities. Crowley's asexuality, in particular, was one of the best depictions I've ever read. It brought a new level of understanding to me, and I'm sure many of you will feel a kinship with him. Really pay attention to what's being said here, there's some really deep and insightful passages that are worth analyzing. Like this moment, which may have been a subconscious thought, but again speaks to how deeply the author understands the characters.

This was such an amazing experience as a fan. I've never had a fic feel like this much of an event before. Every chapter drop was so exciting; I never knew what exactly to expect. And now, with the end being over 100k words?? Where did that word count come from! That's insane! I'm sad to leave this iteration, but I'm so excited for what's to come next. So please, if you haven't read this, give it a try. It's such a impressive work, so much time and effort was put into this and you can tell. It's not only a love letter to Good Omens, but one to fandom and fanspaces as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this journey

There are some explicit scenes towards the end, but they are all marked and skippable, so I'd say you're perfectly fine reading this in public.

Edit from after actually seeing the finale: no I’m not tearing up it’s just really dusty in this room. I’m being so normal rn 🥹🥹🥹

Read it here, fic by ghostrat

[kissmypoets-hp]

Fanfic Classics Series

🎨 Truth to Materials by lately and @toomuchplor

In which Harry learns to appreciate art and other pleasures of the flesh.

This fic changed my life!!! and gave me so much delight as somebody with a fine arts degree!!!

i've been making penguin classics-style covers for fics i have saved on my kindle, as inspired by zeziliazink and bubu0h’s works! art credits + bonus info under the cut :)

Artwork used:

"Seated Man, academy study" by Albert Edelfelt (1875)

is it just me or this could be older harry posing for draco?

Bonus cover?!!!

While I was looking for potential artwork to use for this fic, I found 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜's work (NSFW warning for nudity/sex, but his work is vibrant and so, so beautiful!). I was looking for queer painters whose work captured a lively, loose sense of intimacy (which was the vibe I got from the fic) and his work was PERFECT for what I had in mind, but since his works aren't in the public domain I'd rather not upload what I made for myself on a public blog... though I'd love to show it (privately) to anyone interested so we can gush over how well Mr 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘨's work fits the fic... in my humble opinion, at least 🤣 Anyway, if you've made it this far, you really should check out his website!

[steddieunderdogfics]

driver roll up the partition please by steddieas_shegoes

@steddieas-shegoes

Rating: Explicit

4,538 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Rock Star Eddie Munson, Artist Steve Harrington, Bartender Steve Harrington, Sugar Daddy Eddie Munson, it's subtle but it's there, Dirty TalkFlirting, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Getting Together, Strangers to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, Daddy Kink, it's kinda said as a joke but it's taken seriously

Summary:

The bow tie around Steve’s neck was choking him. It had to be made for children, but when he’d asked one of the waiters before they went on the floor, he shrugged and said they all were like that. But the lack of oxygen to his brain didn’t excuse the way he nearly dropped a glass of a half-shaken, half-stirred -yes, really- martini when the hottest man he’d ever seen walked up to the bar. He was chatting with a few people, smiling at them like he was truly happy to see them even though he was dressed like someone who was crashing the party. Steve had done a few events like this before and was never disappointed with the eye candy, but this guy was something else. His curls were perfectly maintained, falling just right along his shoulders. Did they say the hair was the curtain to the soul or was he just that enamored?

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @steddieas-shegoes. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

[themorningsunshine]

Be My Muse

Pairing - Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Childhood best friends to lovers)

Summary - Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

Bucky has been in love with you for years, but just can't get himself to say it. So, instead, he decides to show you.

Warnings - None, just fluffy fluff 

Word Count - 2.4k 

a/n - This is for @buckybarnesevents ‘s Connect 4: June-iverse event. Card Number - C4037 for the prompt C1 - Aritst. Thank you to the lovely @bluehourbucky​ for motivating me to actually finish writing this. 

"Come on, Buck. Just tell me."

You watched as the man you called your best friend shook his head, once again refusing to let out anything about his upcoming art exhibition.

"Oh, come on. Don't be this way." You didn't want to pressurize him, but he was acting weird about this exhibition for the past 2 months.

Every single time when he had an art exhibition coming up, he would ramble about it for weeks to you and you loved it. The way he was excited about what he had made and also the way his nervous ticks showed up always a week before the actual event, you loved every bit of it.  But this time, he hadn't spoken a word remotely related to it.

To top it all off, he had said that this was the most important exhibition of his life.

You were bound to be scared.

"Okay, what about this, you give me a hint, about anything, it doesn't even have to be the centerpiece, literally anything, and I will stop bugging you." You were practically begging now.

"Come on, doll. You are going to come to the main event. You can look at it then." He said putting your cup of coffee in front of you, is pretty much one of the only ways to distract your mind.

"See it then? With everybody else? Is that what I am to you, now, Buck? Just a person in the audience? I knew this day would come." You picked up your cup and with a dramatic turn walked out of the room.

Had you stood there for a moment longer, you would have seen the way Bucky scratched his thumb and bit his lips, two of his most prominent nervous ticks.

Only if he could tell you that you weren't just a person in the crowd. No, you were much more than that. You were everything .

He just had to wait.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The day of the exhibition came sooner than he would have liked, but to you, it couldn't have been further away.

Bucky had been a little distant with you for the past week and you hated it. You hated it more than anything else in the world.

Usually, he would take you with him to carry out the errands related to the exhibition, 'cause he always got super nervous and you would be there to ground him. Like anchoring him back to the shore.

But this time, you had absolutely no idea what even was the theme of this exhibition. Every single time you offered to go with him for anything, he would always make excuses, and you were confident that they were lies 'cause when did Bucky start to go grocery shopping in the middle of the week?

In the almost 2 decades you had known him, ever since you were a kid, he had never hidden something this important from you.

To say that you were scared would be an understatement.

When you finally entered the exhibition, you were proud to see how many people had shown up. You had always known that Bucky would do exceptionally well as an artist and you had taken every chance you got to tell him exactly that.

As you were about to turn the corner and look at the first painting, you almost collided with a wall of muscle.

You looked up only to be met by the gaze of one of your closest friends.

"Steve, hey!!"

You saw as Steve tried extremely hard to hide the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face and you could swear you saw happy tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

You squinted as you took a step to the side to let a man walk in, realizing you were blocking the way.

"Y/n, you need to come with me."

"Not now, Steve. It's Bucky's exhibition. I need to stay here."

"He has asked you to come with me."

You narrowed your eyes as you asked, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded as he took your hand to try and take you away from the paintings.

Dread filled your chest. Did Bucky really not want you in here so much?

You follow Steve as he leads you toward an isolated door of the arena.

You turn to look at him and he signals you to get inside.

"Okay, if you are kidnapping me, I might as well let you know that no one is going to pay a single penny as ransom to you." You joke. You have been friends with Steve almost for as long as you have been with Bucky and you trusted them with everything.

Steve chuckles before replying, "Just go in, y/n."

You open the door and take a step in, only to realize that it's pitch dark. Before you can turn back to look at Steve, the door closes behind you.

You take a deep breath and call out, "Bucky? I swear to god if it's one of your stupid pranks, I'll kill you."

Suddenly, a small light gets switched on beside you and you turn to realize that it beautifully illuminates a painting.

You take a step forward towards it, only to realize that it is a sketch of an eye and it's beautiful .

You can see the way it shines with a glint even though it's just a sketch and you bring your hand forward to run it across it.

It is then that you notice the little note sitting at the bottom right corner of the sketch.

All the city lights combined couldn't shine brighter than your eyes.

Your lips turned upwards into a smile as you read the words. Even though you had absolutely no idea what was happening, it was a huge comfort to know that it was all Bucky's doing. You could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

You looked around hoping to figure out at least something, but all that the little illumination below the sketch showed you was that it was more probable than not a huge hall.

Not even a moment later, another small light was switched on just beside the first one.

It was a painting this time. A very old painting.

It was a small girl sitting on a swing hanging from the tree. A blissful smile on her face, carefree and oblivious to the troubles of the world.

When you noticed the bracelet that she was wearing, you took a step forward, squinting to focus on the painting.

It was you.

And then the memory of that day placed itself at the forefront of your brain.

"Come on, Buck." The little 11-year-old girl called out to the brown-haired boy.

He just shakes his head and refuses to move away from under the tree he is sitting, a sketchbook in hand.

"Why do you even like painting so much?" She had asked, crossing her arms across her chest, puffing in annoyance at his lack of response before walking away towards the swing herself.

A smile finds its way to your lips at the memory. It was about a couple of years after the both of you had met, and yet, it was as clear as day in your mind. Even after all the memories you and Bucky created together over the years, small - innocent ones like these from all those years ago never left your heart.

You look at it intensely for a long time. A couple of tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

It's been so long. You couldn't help but think. The both of you had grown up but never grew apart. There was always a connection, an instant pull that always brought the both of you back to each other, almost like how no matter how far any of you went, you never forgot your way back home.

After some time, you finally noticed the little note written in the bottom left corner of the painting, just like in the first one. But this one was different. This sentence was the one that would change your whole life for you. In the best way possible. It read :

The day that 12-year-old fell in love, without even knowing what love meant. All he knew was that he was going to love that girl with everything he had, till his last days and beyond.

Your breath hitched in your throat. He loved you.

Bucky Barnes was in love with you.

That's when it hit you.

Everything you have ever wanted. The only thing your heart has ever yearned for, was right in front of you all along.

The love that you had read about in books, the kind of love that swallowed you whole until there was no part left untouched, the love that you have looked for your entire life, has been right there. Right beside you. In the form of the oceanic blue eyes that had enamored you for the last 20 years.

You were in love with your best friend.

The realization doesn't hit you like a truck, or leave you gasping in surprise, it brings with it a sense of peace, a sense of everything falling into place.

You look around frantically searching for the man that you had loved all along without ever knowing it.

You loved him when he fought those bullies to protect Steve and got hurt in the process.

You had loved him when he had brought you cookies when you had gotten sick during Christmas, not being able to move.

You had loved him when you had supported him in his decision to do what his heart desired, in his journey of becoming an artist.

You had loved him when the both of you had said your goodbyes while leaving for college in distant cities when the tears had fallen from your eyes and on the ground and he had comforted you that your friendship won't fall apart.

You had loved him in the nights that were spent staring at the stars together, in the afternoons that had been spent watching movies, curled up beside each other, just the two of you.

You had loved him then, and you love him now and you were pretty sure you were going to love him till the world was nothing but dust.

A light suddenly gets switched on just beside the old painting, and this time too, it's you.

Painted years after the last one, it's you staring at the night sky, a soft, content look on your face.

This time, your eyes frantically search for the note, and sure enough, it's right there, at the bottom.

'Cause, darling without you,

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

You can now feel tears rolling down your cheeks, as your lips turn into the widest grin possible.

You turn around and as you do so, all the lights in the room begin to turn on, each revealing a painting of you. Taken in the simplest moments.

There is one with you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a pout evident on your face as you had tried to bake a cake for the first time.

There was one where you were sitting at the beach, staring into the ocean.

The one that you liked the most was the one in which you were sleeping contently, a blanket loosely draped over you, that you could swear hadn't been there before.

Before you can look at the rest of them, a voice comes from the corner of the hall and you turn just in time to look at Bucky Barnes himself.

Your smile grew wider if it was even possible and you almost ran off to embrace him when he started speaking.

"One day, you asked me why I drew. Why I felt the need to express whatever it was I felt through a canvas. I didn't tell you, then, but now I want to, doll.

It's you. It's always been you. You have been my muse, my pillar of support, my motivation to get up every morning, my need to paint because there was no other way I could express to the girl I was in love with that she was all I ever dreamt about. That she was everything I could ever want.

I love you, doll. I love you with everything I am and everything I'll ever be. There are a hundred ways this could fall apart, and trust me, I have thought about each one of them more than I should have. But if there is one chance that this could work, that I could be yours, not just in movie nights or weekly trips to the grocery market, but in every way possible, I want to take that chance. In slow mornings and in intimate nights, in tough days and in the celebratory evenings, I want you, I need you to be a part of all of them, doll because life just doesn't feel like life without you."

As if your feet had gained a mind of their own you ran towards him, circling your arms around his neck and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was gentle, soft, full of need and unspoken feelings, of time lost, it was everything .

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, not wanting to ever let go.

Finally, when the both of you pulled away, still staying close with the widest possible grins on your faces, you whispered, "I love you too, Buck. So damn much." You say it so slowly, it feels like a dream to him.

You would one day shout out to the world how much you loved him, but for now, it was going to be your little moment. When the city of Brooklyn went about its day just like it did every day, two people who were irresistibly, irrevocably in love with each other stood there, holding each other, in the gentlest of embraces, embers of their love while keeping them warm, strong enough to burn the whole world down.

You stay there for what feels like forever before Bucky whispers. "Doll, be my muse?"

You look up at him, drowning in his oceanic blue eyes, only to reach home, before you whisper, "Forever."  

[snow-143]

Water Coloured Tears | Jeon Jungkook

pairings | childhood bsf jungkook x artist reader

genres | angst, childhood bsfs, hurt/ comfort?, college au, fuckboy jk, eventual smut

summary | college. everybody dream right? you finally get to leave home and have all the freedom you like, but you didn't care about any of that, you were happy as long as you had your best friend with you. except he's done a full 180 on how he used to be and you despise who he is, but now you have to suffer through a 5 month art project with him as your muse.

warnings | swearing like a lot (i’m british), alcohol, angst, probs drugs, eventual smut, fuckboy jjk, she resents him a shit ton, forced proximity, ik nothing about art classes don’t come for me, i’m using british school holidays bc it’s easier for me, more to be added

one- pilot

two- drunk call

three- drunken rambles (jks pov)

four- dont waste my time

five- mommy’s boy

six- late night inspo

seven- forgot you were insane

eight-

[starker-sorbet]

⚘ Tassel Flower ⚘ - symbolizes creativity

Artists Peter and Tony spending an afternoon painting together

[fandoms-writings]

Pairing: Bartender!Neighbor!Bucky x college!artist!reader (intended female reader)

Summary: A horrible date and forgetting your keys lands you in the hands of your handsome neighbor who is more than willing to lend a helping hand.

Series Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, age gap is 10-ish years, smidge of angst, a date gone wrong (not with bucky), bucky being a gentlemen should be it’s own warning, some suggestive thoughts and language, cursing, making out, mentions of anxiety, disappointed parents, mentions of alcohol, fluff, pet names (sugar, baby, sir, daddy), weed consumption, tiny bit of self doubt from Bucky, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), Bucky talks a lot in bed, unprotected sex (protect yourself irl please)

Each chapter will contain it's own warnings.

❂︎ - Smut

Forgotten Keys and Warm Tea

Make Our Own Traditions

Masterpiece ❂︎

Adoration of the Heart ❂︎

Soak with Me ❂︎

[jellitchi]

hello friends heres some more artist au ,,, i have A huge infodump under the cut ... u were warned

uhm mumbo is a tattoo artist in this au, hes the towns electrician primarily but he does tattoo work too. hes terrified of needles on his own skin but really enjoys the process of tattooing. i think he mostly does geometric stuff. probably hrm.

gem runs and owns the fishing dock/bait shop. shes born and raised in this town so shes been here her whole life. shes okay at painting but her real passion is with clay- specifically sculpting. shes taking a pottery workshop w grian but she like the freedom sculpting has that the wheel cant really give her...? if that makes sense.. she still likes it. when she paints she gravitates towards gouache and watercolors, she likes the fluidity she can achieve w em. also is very fond of how gouache lets u set it down then return and reactivate it w water again lol

pearl is a relatively successful artist, shes constantly traveling for art shows and also to host workshops/look for inspiration. she used to paint a lot, thats how she kinda got her fame... she used to paint this one girl a lot idk she has curly orange hair and freckles and shes always painted really beautifully. then stuff happened and now pearl mostly sculpts now. she still paints and her paintings are her most popular works but shes more into working w clay.

hm more abt this au, pearl and grian are siblings and both grew up learning oil painting. jimmy is also in this au im still figuring out a role but hes their cousin— basically brother— i was thinking pearls manager js coz i think itd b funny lol.

the setting is a small coastal town hrmm havent thought too much else abt it, was mostly pulling from coastal norcal ish...

in this au scar and grian are really really tight and have been living w each other for like 5/6 ish years. i dont think they officially get tgt... they think theyre woke asf n say they dont like labels (kinda kidding) the real reason is just timing. whenever grian is sick of running circles and works up the courage, scar usually has some complications hes working through and grian feels like hed just be another stressor added to his plate so he just wills it away... then when scar is like Im gonna do it. Im gonna tell him. Grian is experiencing sum kinda dilemma and is rly stressed so then scar is like well it can wait... (this goes on forEver.) whenever they do sync up, usually theyre far too scared about ruining their friendship and having to find a new roommate or something. they both r very important to each other and if bottling up their feelings means they can hold onto each other and keep each other around then thats what theyll do...! yeah theyre doomed🤦‍♂️.... they still basically do romantic activities tgt- they just think its normal coz its them.... also everyone around them thinks theyre secretly dating or smth anyways Yeah this is the au in a nutshell im such a sucker for long term pinning friends to lovers or whatever😭😭😭😭😭...

[diva-calderu]

Stiles Stilinski x Derek Hale

Artist x Writer AU

For @whitewiccan

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Payneland Post WWI-Artists AU!

Charles Rowland gets sent to the trenches in France, but Edwin Payne gets to avoid the war by being sixteen and from a wealthy family that can send him to university to avoid the draft. He doesn’t become part of the Lost Generation.

That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t become lost, though.

Charles promises to come back to Edwin, and he’s never broken a promise in his goddamn life. Charles returns from war. He returns from war and returns to London and Charles has always been a boy haunted by his ghosts, just as surely as Edwin was. They both have been, whether that be Charles and his father’s fists or Edwin and his father’s absence or the lake that Edwin pulled Charles from or the attic that Charles saved Edwin from.

The two of them, eighteen and aching, go to London and they disappear.

London isn’t like St. Hilarion’s, where everyone knows everyone. It is a place you can get lost in.

And the city. God, the city.

Edwin doesn’t do music, save the tunes that Charles likes to hum unconsciously when he’s painting, but if he did music, god, he would sing the city.

It’s so easy to get lost here. Edwin certainly does. 

But Charles Rowland, though?

Here, in London, among the queer underculture, in the house parties and the artistic scene, Charles finds himself.

More here!

@wordsinhaled @nix-nihili @bitterdesert @every-moment-a-different-sound @anything-thats-rock-and-roll

[vividsketch]

A muse never dies, only evolves

[clairegregoryau]

Constellationism XXXIII A nest of silk scraps and tulle, an abstract waterfall, the artist blending into his art, and a moment I couldn't get out of my head from Chapter 12 of this incredible story.

Check out Shearwater's Constellationism for some of the most gorgeous imaginable writing!