‘Kanan had totally forgotten the deal Ezra made… And that nothing he said or did could stop it…. Ezra… Or whatever it was controlling him… It was going to hurt Sabine… Kanan… He said to stop it…. He had to save her…’
Give me your ugly-
(splinters & beams’ mar in eyes’ beholding)
We’re all artists here,
and all that’s essential is all we need
we’ve just to learn
to look beyond the superficial to potential contained beneath
the base -
is our fundamental medium
revealing our artists’ agency
to transcend marred mettle as misinterpretation & rather than disdain flaws ( as oft misattributed ),
aspire to truly translate the vision
from demeaned humble stuff of earth
to an echo of eternity
rebuilt by refusal to dismiss intrinsic worth-
Let not G-dgiven glory be by mortal condemned
Brilliance is not to be held as dimmed due to others’ dullness
of blind beholders’ eyes incapable of seeking
more than wounds of wear corporeal & temporary,
which in underlying substance,
may have greater ultimate influence
in having potential as-yet unseen
& in future fact
actuality may far surpass
the mere stuff of material means
If art is made for materialising metaphor
by [re]creating what wasn’t visible before
as idea & vision reforms
matter; its present state reforged,
- Life being reborn -
Truth’s beauty may yet be restored-
Wisdom holds hope:
A new perspective unbound by finite perception
Revival is found in creative revision
A returning to purposes’ fulfilling ,
personal peculiar restoration
It’s not for fools to claim final authority
nor do critics’ limits define the divinest of mysteries!
Mode of transformation
is no less for media’s origin,
nor is reformative rendering
of mettle thereby made mean:
Existence of inherent value & merit
is hardly lessen’d by invested artistry-
far from mean,
instead transformed thereby in innovative methodology-
purview of renewal’s possibility
far exceeds judgement in superiority!
“I got a copy of Heathers.” Armie tells him quietly, leaning in like it’s a secret between just them.
“Oooh-kay…” Ben pulls the word out long and leans back in his chair. It’s a staff meeting and he isn’t in the habit of even pretending like he gives a damn.
“I just… I thought you’d want to know.” Armie looks down at the space between them a flush deepening on his pale sunscreen scented skin.
“Why would I…” He fades out staring at the pretty blush and the way he’s biting his bottom lip and he’s suddenly very very aware that they are not talking about the Christian Slater movie, “Oh.”
“I thought you’d want to know… If you don’t it’s just… It’s fine.” Armitage twists in his chair and starts playing attention to the meeting. Ben hates how he looks suddenly so small, how he seems to have drained all of that restrained excited off.
“Was it hard to get?” Ben asks softly, leaning onto Armie’s chair. His paw of a hand on the hard plastic, fingers brushing at the edge of his shorts, his sun pinkened skin right there next to his hand.
“Yeah. I had to get it out of Switzerland… I hope it has the right sound track.” The excitement in his almost friend comes rushing back and Armie leans in to him, small restrained hand gestures exploding between them.
Ben isn’t the type to discuss his porn habits but if Armie wants to talk about weirdo Swiss porn let him if he looks at him like that.
What harm could it do to talk about this kind of stuff as long as they used a codeword.
He makes a note to search what kinda porn is big in Switzerland when he gets home. Not that he wants to know what kinda thing Armie is getting off on…
It’s for science…
And has nothing to do with he smile on the red heads face or the kinda stuff Ben’s been getting off on lately.
“Do you watch it a lot?” Armie asks quietly like he’s trying not to interrupt the meeting, “You seem like you do…” Ben isn’t sure how glowing his blush must be but he’s bet you can see it from the space station. Before Ben can offer any kind of response Armie continues, “We could watch Heather’s together sometime… If you’d like…”
“Okay.” Ben answers, he moves his hand in a way that drags his fingers along Armitage’s thigh.
“If you two are done discussing which one of you is going to wear the dress to prom next year maybe you’d like to hear about the new sales incentives?” Lando asks eyebrow cocked and a friendly smirk across his face.
Ben and Armie are suddenly as far apart as they can get without switching seats with someone. But if Lando thought he’d be able to reclaim the meeting with that comment he’s sorely mistaken because know everyone is voting on which of them would wear a dress.
Let the earth swallow him up right now if he’s going to start thinking about Armie watching ‘Heathers’ in a Gone with the Wind style dress, slender hands disappearing under the yards of fabric…
Ben gets up abruptly and spends the rest of the sales meeting hiding in the bathroom.
So here’s another super surreal moment I wanted to share!
Bluejaigeyes (aka Johnamarie Macias of TheWookieeGunner) was wearing my Star Wars Rebels dress on Friday, and excitedly told me while she was in the Celebration store, she ran into Dave and he commented on it!
(She also tweeted it to me but I didn’t see it till after I saw her in person in the Heroines of Star Wars line!)
Apparently he told her he loved how they were drawn, especially Ezra! ;.;
This is so unreal. I still can’t believe this picture was taken. Thanks so much for the heads up Johna! It really made my whole day! :D
That amazing Purgill that Dave is holding was made by Johna too! She’s so talented and lovely!
Written in the same universe as @beyondthemoor‘s “Rose Trim”. Admittedly not my best work, but I wanted to add to her wonderful story. (Kinda a prequel years in advance of her story). She is free to totally reject this as canon.
The comforting scent of laundry detergent flooded
the room the moment Sakura opened the dryer door. The heat flushed her already
overheated skin, but she merely took a calming breath before she reached in and
filled her arms with the load of freshly washed clothes.
Dumping the laundry onto the table, she turned
her attention to moving the next load in the washing machine over to the dryer before
she sat on the small stool she kept at the end of the table and turned her
attention to folding the dark clothes. It was the final pile of Sasuke’s
Long ago Sakura had been taught to wash laundry
by color but once she had begun living with her boys, she had quickly learned
that wasn’t possible as all of them – from Madara to Itachi to Sasuke to Shisui
to Izuna – wore black. It had taken her nearly a week to separate the shirts
into their respective piles and return them to the correct owners after her
first time and since then, she had taken to doing loads by owner.