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#venus of urbino by titian
diioonysus · 9 months
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dogs + art
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artphilosophie · 2 months
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Titian's Venus.
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tragediambulante · 3 months
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The Venus of Urbino, Tiziano Vecellio, 1538
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lemuseum · 2 months
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hollowterrain · 5 months
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Venus of Urbino by Titian, 1538
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persephonediary · 3 months
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Venus of Urbino, Titian
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hawkland · 1 year
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Literally the same image. Change my mind.
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glass-chalice · 5 months
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Venus of Urbino, Titian, 1534
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aseaofyoongi · 2 years
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rivals academia | knj
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pairing: knj x reader (f)
genre: slight angst/smut
rating: mature audiences ONLY (strictly 18+)
wc: 4.2 thousand
summary: you and kim namjoon absolutely hate eachother but after you’re both paired for a school project — things get rather interesting at the school library.
warnings: enemies to one-night stand (potential fwb) unprotected sex (wrap it up yall); penetrative sex; hand job; fingering; brief nipple play; teasing; dirty talk; public sex; foul language; dirty talk; bickering; thigh riding; slight degradation; praise kink; i think thats it ??; namjoon’s fucking thighs; i was having a moment of weakness please; college au
posted: sunday september 11th, 2022
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Repulsed.
That’s precisely the word indicative enough to portray exactly how you felt. Repulsed, repugnant, nauseated, revolting — it all came rushing in like a wave of rage aggressively meeting the golden shores.
It was overwhelming yet still - here you sat across from him and his absolutely irritating aura. It excluded an intoxicating amount of cockiness and an irritating deal of arrogance.
His presence was so irritating.
So fucking irritating.
“Are we supposed to finish this whole project today?” He asked exasperated - as if putting off the project until the last minute wasn’t his exact idea and now he wants to treat it as a nuisance?
“The project is due Monday, Kim. And it is 8:00PM Friday,” you briefly examined the watch sitting on your wrist, “and I’m guessing you have plans for the entire weekend?”
Namjoon nodded eagerly, picking up his phone for the thousandth time but you snatched it right out of his hand.
“What the—”
“It’s time to get to work. For real this time, Kim.” You shoved his phone in your purse, “I'm tired of you just pretending to do things.”
“Can I have my phone back?” He uttered through gritted teeth.You could’ve sworn you saw clouds of smoke emitting from his ears as his usually chocolate eyes turned red hot with anger, “Now!.”
“You’ll get it back when you actually fucking do something for once.” You snapped back — standing your ground.
He slouched back on the wooden library chair and scoffed typing away at his laptop.
Kim Namjoon.
If it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t your first choice for a project partner, however, your Intro to Art History professor thought otherwise. And now you suffered the consequences; bearing the temper tantrums of a man baby.
“What was the year for Venus of Urbino again?”
“1534.”
“Artist?”
“Titian.”
“Interpretation some believe?”
You huffed — he was truly insufferable, “did you even read the cards she passed out?”
He rolled his eyes, “does it look like I did?”
“Kim, do I really have to do your part of the project too?”
He quirked a brow as he shrugged, “you’re the one holding me hostage.”
“I’m not holding you anything. You have a responsibility to this project as my partner. This doesn’t just fall on me.”
“And yet here I am contributing absolutely nothing and you’re already doing both our jobs so you might as well excuse me.” He pushed his chair back in an attempt to stand-up.
“I swear if you so much as take a step, Kim,” you stood up from the table from him — your eyes sternly set on his. You were not afraid of him, “your name will be removed from this entire fucking project and word on the street is you’re current GPA isn’t really securing you a place on the team. What is the athlete’s magic number again? 2.5 right?”
“Ouch!” His full lips curved into a smile. His chasmic dimples on full display. You could sense the sarcasm even in the simple phrase your attention was averted towards his lips. It’s rather nice. His smile that is. You didn’t really see it often but his smile — fuck — it was picturesque; similar to the sunset as it kissed the deepest depths of the cerulean sea when nighttime lurked behind in its shadows.
“Don’t hold back now.” he uttered, taking a seat once again.
“I don’t intend to.”
“Tell me, doll. Are you always this dense?”
You ignored him and continued typing your section of the project. Just pretend he’s not even here — you repeat in your head.
“Are you going to answer my question on Venus about the depiction or should I spend the next hour researching it?”
You looked up at him and there it is again. The soft strokes of curvatures of his golden cheeks painting a delicate smile.
“It is literally a five minute search,” You cleared your throat in an attempt to be clear and to avoid having to repeat yourself, “but to save you the trouble; we're focusing on sexuality through the ages she is theorized to be masturbating, Kim.”
“Masturbating?”
“Precisely, with the way she’s laying naked and the placement of her hands — it’s only been assumed by some and obviously our professor as well considering she included it.”
Namjoon huffed. “Interesting.”
“Not at all,” you pointed at his laptop, “now write it down.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Where is this going, Kim?”
“Well,” he began, “I don’t mean to be lewd—”
“You already are, Kim.”
“It’s Joon,” Namjoon smirked, “but have you ever?”
His words were brief but they were tainted with a vivid carmine hue — all of it backtracked with sexual intent. And truly you despised the kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting at the pit of your stomach.
“That is none of your business.”
“—but it is something to be curious about.”
“I don’t see why,” though the library was completely vacant and you both sat in a private study area for some reason you could feel a swarm of watchful judging eyes — all of them condemning everything you've ever done. Everything right down to that very question. You shifted in your seat clearly affected at the utterances of his beguiling words, “and the next artwork on the list is The Swing. Figure it out.”
“Truly, has a girl like you even —” he chuckled, “never mind.”
“What could you possibly mean by that?” there was a feeling bubbling deep inside but you couldn’t quite decipher what it was. Anger? Annoyance? Bashfulness? .
“I just mean you’re innocent.”
“Innocent?”
“You could barely say ‘masturbation’ without a stutter a couple minutes ago,” he shrugged and you knew that in his own twisted way Namjoon was using this as another thing to hold over you.
“Have you ever thought that maybe I just don’t feel like discussing those things with you. This has nothing to do with how innocent you think I am.”
“I think. .” He drifted off. His chin was now propped up on his palms.
“You think?” you emphasized the word ‘think.’
“You wanna know what I think?”
“Is it that maybe you should shut up for once so we can get this project done already?”
“In fact,” he scoffed, beginning to share his theory anyway, “I think you’re a virgin.”
“That’s a great observation, Kim. Now let’s move on to what we’re actually here for.”
He slouched down in his chair, his arms now crossed at his chest, his eyes laid intently on you sitting right across from him. His watchfulness was kind of — intimidating to say the least.
“Kim, it’s 9PM. Can we please?” you sighed your eyes, never leaving the brightness of your screen.
“I would but it’s just so hard to concentrate.”
You sighed, “what will it take for you to finally move on and finish this project once and for all?” You shut your laptop, your eyes finally meeting his once again,
“Answer my question. Have you ever masturbated?”
His cavernous voice was bottomless like the deep sea and the obscenity in his words sent a glacial shiver down your spine. Was his voice always this low? You’d never really noticed before.
“I know you may think I’m familial to freaks of some sort but like any normal person I have in fact masturbated Joon,” you let out all in one breathe.
“You called me Joon,”
“I did,” his smile beamed brighter than sun rays — the rapid thumping of your heart beat aggressively thumped against the walls of your chest and you were afraid he might just be able to hear, “Are we done or do you also need a demonstration?”
“Let’s make your proposition a bit more sensible,” he began.
“I was kidding.”
“It was your idea,” The air in the room grew thicker. It constricted your airway and for a minute you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Were the air vents even opened here? You checked and they were, “are you already backing out now?”
“Joon. .”
“Tell me,” his voice was provocative and you feared one more soft utter would have you stripped bare with little to no command.
“Tell you?” your leg is bouncing under the wooden table and you could feel your palms growing clammy.
The soft glimmer of the luminous moonbeam was casted upon him accentuating his sun-kissed tone and the striking features staring back at you intently — his glistening cherry lips, the way his dimples formed at the mere appearance of the smirk on his face and his stern amber gaze still so intimidating. It made you feel small but you are not going to show him the power he could have over you.
“What do you wanna hear?” your tone now masked in thin layers of silk.
He panted softly, “I want to hear it all.”
“You wanna hear about how I lay completely bare with my head propped up against my pillows. Eyes shut tightly as my hands explore every single inch of my body pretending it’s someone else?”
“Fuck-” His hands dug under the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes now casted on the way the cotton light grey fabric rhythmically moved up and down repeatedly. His chest heaved as his breathing became uneven — and in that moment you could not think of a more captivating sight. Like an erotic painting right out of the renaissance era. You remained at your previous position behind his chair, “but when I get tired of that I have to resort to other measures as you may know.”
“I d-don’t know..” he groaned. His tone expressed frustration and arousal combined. The repulsion you once felt ceased and all your mind could become aware of was the vast ocean accumulating between your thighs; staining the fabric of your underwear as the sight of Namjoon stroking himself in the campus library became imprinted in your mind.
“Sometimes, I also like to mount my pillow placing my thighs on each side as I move my hips steadily against the soft fabric. Slowly rolling my hips back and forth until I’m finally able to reach that high,” you whispered.
His soft pants filled the stillness and furnished the serenity amongst the vacant tables and chairs right outside the private study room. The sounds so addicting it looped within the walls of your head like a vinyl on a broken record player.
“Y-You—” was all he could manage as he became enthralled in his own pleasure, the sweat forming at his temples could attest to it.
“Can I touch you Joon?”
“Please.”
You placed a velvet kiss on the nape of his neck. Your hands found their way up to his dark strands — you softly tugged at it, pushing his head back, “well I’m not the one with my hands in my pants. Am I?”
A thunderous chuckle rumbled within the four walls of the secluded study room, “Please believe you are the clear cause of this.”
“I didn’t do anything, Joon.” you let out an airy laugh, “just provided details of a scenario per your request. Remember?”
“You’re a fucking demon.”
“And you’re too easy. Just like every other horny dude on this campus.”
“Please—” He begged, grabbing onto your wrist before you could walk away. This tone was husk and as much as you hated to admit it. It was like an alluring song to your ears all of it shooting right down to your core just like everything he did. “I need you.”
I need you. The three words invaded your tympanum serving as a command for his needed pleasure and you felt as if your feet vacated their stance on the ground. His honey voice was lulling and if he continued to say anything in that tone, you’d fear your dignity would rid itself and follow every single thing he’d bark without objection. Every bone in your body already begged you to comply; to do it for you and chase your own pleasure — and as much as your mind screamed at you to leave. You listened to the throbbing between your legs instead.
“Pull it all down,” You ordered and Joon quickly rid himself of the pesky fabrics standing between him and utter vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to get up, just allowed them to pool at his ankles. His rather massive erection now on full display — shocked wasn’t the word you were looking for. After all, Joon always exuded the aura that he was considerable in size but nevertheless it was a pleasant reaffirmation to your lingering rumors.
Joon cleared his throat pulling your eyes away from his erection — your trance was essentially amusing to him, you could see it painted on his smirk, “You can come closer you know. If you want to.”
“Closer?”
Joon softly tapped on his bare thighs. His thick fucking thighs. Having attended numerous of his soccer games you were constantly given a sneak peak at his toned legs. His upper thighs often lolled you into a fantasy that was now taking play right before you and instead of following the script your head had created for you on multiple occasions; instead you sat here salivating at the clear view of his lower half without the burden of shorts being in the way.
“Come sit. Please,” his pleading made your legs turn to jello — the way his tone so delicately continued to voice his intricate needs was fucking sexy. Although you’ve only been sitting on top of his left thighs approximately 30 seconds now you couldn’t help the way you were throbbing at an uncontrollable beat. You were certain he could feel it too — it was plastered all over his shit-eating grin.
“Can you be a good girl and move for me please?” His tone still velvet to the touch.
Your underwear were already drenched and you were terrified he would notice — the lack of shorts under your skirt left only the thin cotton fabric of your underwear to meet his thighs. But you were not going to back down. Not now.
“Have you done this before?���
“No,” you simply stated.
“Just follow along.”
You nodded.
Initially, the mere feeling of his hands secured around your waist clouded your thoughts entirely. His warm grasp sent waves of electric currents down your spine but nothing prepared you for the feeling that bubbled in your core as soon as his sinful hands instructed you to move. The pace began agonizingly slow and you followed his motion moving forward and backwards against his thigh.
You whimpered, “It feels so good. .”
Joon laughed — the sound drummed at your eardrums and without a stutter in his rhythm you were being guided to move against him faster and faster as he continued flexing his thigh muscles causing all that more friction against your lower half.
“N-namjoon,” You moaned holding on to his chest for support; your head rolled back as you grew consumed by pleasure.
His hands vacated their place on your waist but you continued the steady pace against him chasing a high you knew you were very close to achieving. Joon’s attention was diverted into your clothed chest.
“Can I take your shirt and bra off?”
“Mhm,” was all you truly could manage.
Though, you were breaking a sweat going at it against his thighs as soon as your top half was stripped you felt a draft of cool air meet your perky nipples. The slight frigidness you briefly felt subsided and instead you were met with Joon’s warm touch once again except now it was taking a hold of your breast — his slender finder massaged one while the other was taken care of by his plump lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck as the rhythm of your hips stopped against his thigh. Your senses now focused entirely on the way he swirled his tongue against the sensitive bud.
He paused for a moment looking up at you through hooded eyes, “did I say you could stop?”
“No.”
“Then, continue riding my thigh until I say it’s enough.”
The switch off between his pleads for consent and the way he barked orders in your direction shot straight down only adding to the piled up sexual frustration bubbling deep within you but nevertheless you obeyed — now taking on a slower pace against him as he continued his attack on your breasts.
Locked away in a retreat of arousal and between slurred words and dazed moans you asked Joon if he was in accordance with receiving some attention as well.
“I want to focus on you.”
“And I on you,”
“If you insist,” he gave in, “just stay on my lap.”
His words set a stump in wanting to suck him off but ultimately you settled for using your hands. After aiming down to use your saliva as lubricant you could see the shock sitting behind his lust induced eyes. Your hands began working at his length mimicking his earlier motions — there was nothing more you wanted than to be on your knees in front of him but you were glad you fought against those urges when you felt his hands traveling under your skirt to move your panties to the side.
“Fuck.” He hissed, “you’re drenched.” Joons words only affect you in the worst way possible. Causing the pool between your thighs to deepen, “you claim you’re so fucking quiet but that’s all a facade you know. You’re a fucking slut.”
You never thought a word would affect you as much as being called a slut but you fucking loved it.
“Call me that again,” you whined, “call me that again, please.”
“You’re a slut — you know that?” the soft pads of his fingers finally arrived at their destination and quickly began massaging your clit . . lento. An eruption of lights fired in the back of your mind as Joon continued to immerse himself in bringing you utter satisfaction. You were levitating — your body vibrated which only accentuated the feeling of his heavenly touch.
“Your slut.” your lips ‘fessed up before your brain could register what you actually said.
“My slut.” He sat-up on the wooden chairs but his fingers abandoned your bundle of nerves and traveled further down resting at your entrance, “You know what you’re doing to me right?”
His face was just inches away from yours but your eyes were set on his lips — you leaned forward. Both of you began composing a magical piece in the way your lips danced against each other. His kisses were drug induced and you were already addicted; making it impossible to even pull away so you didn’t and he certainly didn’t either. Under your skirt his phantom touch ceased until you felt his pointer and middle fingers push past your entrance.
“Your fingers are blessed Joon. . They’re fucking blessed. .” you rambled on, “Blessed.”
“You think so?” He pushed them further in causing a strain of moans to fall from your swollen lips.
“Hmm.”
Joon’s pace picked up as he continued to move in and out of you repeatedly. Truly, all the words you could make out were stuttered strings of praises toward his fingers. They were fucking blessed and right then you swore you could write a million poems just on how delectable they felt inside of you.
“Uh, J-Joon. I’m so close. . so so fucking close Joon.”
“Come for me,” he whispered against the nape of your neck as he continued peppering you with silken kisses.
“Shit. .”
His fingers continued moving at a rapid pace as they finally met that spot that drove you over the edge. If you were levitating before you could easily confirm that now you danced amongst the twinkling stars.
“You were so good for me.” He was panting, his chest matching your heaving as you came down from your high, “so fucking good for me.”
His words were always so intricately sensual and you could feel your arousal throb at his dulcet praises.
Why did you hate him again? You couldn’t recall ever having such a feeling for the man you were currently straddling.
You didn’t hate him. You craved him.
After Namjoon removed his hands from underneath your skirt he brought his fingers up to your mouth and smeared your juice on your lips like lip gloss. Before you knew it you were welcoming his digits past your cerise lips tasting your sweet nectar right off his fingers.
“You are so hot.”
“Did it really take having me half naked on your lap for you to realize that?”
“Actually, no. . only one of us in this room actually hated the other.”
“I didn’t hate you.” you blurred out.
“I didn’t say you did, doll. But since you practically snitched on yourself I think it’s safe to say you despise me. ”
“I despised you. As it's in the past,” you corrected him.
“Dick is all it took to change your mind?”
“Hmm,” you took Joon’s cock in your hand slowly pumping at his shaft once again. And he just looked so good— slouched on the chair, his hair disheveled, a slight glow taking hold of his forehead and chest as sweat ran down his tan skin tone. His grin showed the way his teeth sparkle even in the darkness of the room. Namjoon is pulchritudinous and you are under his spell, “I would need to actually have you inside me to make that deduction.”
“I-I didn’t bring protection,” he let out in-between pants.
“I mean I’m clean. Are you?”
He nodded eagerly. But that didn’t suffice. You wanted to hear his raspy voice as confirmation. You tightened your hold on his erection just a bit, “I didn’t hear you.”
His jaw was clenched but still managed a soft, “I’m clean.”
“Perfect.”
Joon welcomed you back on his lap now accompanying him in complete nudity after you had finally decided to rid yourself of the clothes still covering your lower half. His keen gaze felt like it cut right through your confidence like a knife. And although it was a bit intimidating you didn’t let it set a stumble in your actions. His hand landed back on your waist like earlier that night and he guided you towards the tip of his erection.
“Hold it while you go down.”
You complied. Taking him inch-by-inch, your mouth forming into an ‘O’ immediately after his tip pushed past your entrance.
“Y-you’re so fucking big,” you could’ve sworn his length was sucking the air right out of you like a vacuum.
If you thought Namjoon’s thighs and fingers are graces sent by God himself, there was absolutely nothing in this world that could compare to his cock. There was nothing in this world that could feel so—
“J-Joon,” you moaned, attempting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure driven by the guidance of his clammy hands as you bounced on his dick.
“You feel so good, doll. You’re doing so well.”
His praises you discovered are your weakness — his words were dipped in honey and they fed your ears affirmations you could not get enough of. Your head grew hazy at the duality in his words.
That alone drove you closer and closer to the edge. Not to mention the way his thrusts met yours was a sufficient contribution to your demise — you are about to crumble at the mercy of Kim Namjoon’s massive dick.
“R-right there,” your temples glisten with sweat and you could feel the scratchiness in your throat take flight after the past hour you’ve just had, “don’t— please don’t stop.”
“Mhm. .” His thrusts are harder. Deeper. You could feel the way he continued meeting you right where you needed him most. His eyes never lose contact where your bodies meet comforted in the way he disappears inside of you entirely.
And he continued fucking you so good. Fucking you into oblivion.
The silence that once tip-toed around the both of you was gone never to be seen again. Instead it was replaced by the squeaking of the chair (which you continued to pray it wouldn’t break), Namjoon’s groans and your slurred obscenities. It was like that for a while until your legs began to shake and your moans became too loud to suppress. Until your juices coated his cock and his filled you up.
“The Swing-” he managed after catching his breath, “Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1767. It symbolizes the ideas of infidelity, desire, eroticism and love. The guy on the bottom left is peeking up her dress right?”
“Huh?”
“The next one on the list for our project.”
You stared at him wide-eyed, a bit stunned by the realization, “You knew the information this entire time?”
“I had to get your attention somehow right,” he snickered.
“I hate you, Kim Namjoon,” you laughed playfully, landing a punch on his arm.
“After tonight, I think we both know that is simply not true.”
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authour’s note: it took me forever to finish this for a lot of reasons but the main being that thisismyfirstsmutandiwassupernervoustopost so lol sorry if its — bad — i do apologize in advance. I tried and am using it as a way to break out of that shell and explore uncharted grounds. either way i hope some of you enjoy it lol
thank you for reading <3
- em
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supremeuppityone · 10 months
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Klaroline fanfic update: Perhaps One Day
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Working on a new Klaroline one-shot in my series, Perhaps One Day. Here’s a quick peek:
Chapter 16: Dancing with a Bullet
           It wasn’t a bad job. It was incredible money most of the time and the roar of an adoring crowd was a huge ego boost. Plus, they had bouncers who usually kept the creeps in check. But Caroline should’ve known better — when something was this good, there has to be some bad somewhere. As she twirled around the pole, executing a perfect backflip-twist combination, she caught that something bad out of the corner of her eye.
           Klaus Mikaelson had been a fixture at the club since before she’d started working there; he was a charismatic shadow during his business dealings. She might not know exactly what was going on, but she knew enough to stay away. Well, as far away as she could given that he paid obscenely for her time every night she worked.
           But he was different. She’d been around long enough to know the difference between a gross eyefuck and an appreciative perusal.
           The crimson silks delicately danced along ivory skin. Klaus gazed at her with unabashed adoration, his fingers twitching as though they longed to reach. Lesser men certainly tried — but not him. He never pushed against her boundaries and even treated her with a quiet dignity that made her heart break and mend at the same time. She wanted things she couldn’t have.
           “You possess a grace that could rival Titian’s brushstrokes,” he purred. At her intrigued expression, he explained, “He was a 16th-century Venetian master whose immortal work, Venus of Urbino, captures the feminine mystique. Her knowing gaze peers into your soul and invites you to look — and dares you to touch.”  
           His accent played with those simple words, illuminating them until they set fire to the thin spaces between them. But he did not touch. And she knew better than to ask.
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princesssarisa · 1 year
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Character ask: Aphrodite
Favorite thing about them: She's a fascinating figure, full of potential for stories: a stunningly, irresistibly beautiful goddess who embodies romantic love and sexuality, who can be cruel and kind in equal measure, just like love itself. It's no wonder that she's captivated writers and artists for centuries.
Least favorite thing about them: As I said above, she can be cruel: for example, in her treatment of Psyche, and her role in starting the Trojan War. Of course this is true for most of the Greek gods and goddesses, not just her.
Three things I have in common with them:
*I'm passionate.
*I love romance (in stories, at least) and visual beauty.
*I can be hot-tempered and petty sometimes.
Three things I don't have in common with them:
*I'm not irresistibly alluring to men.
*I don't take vicious offense when people consider other women more beautiful than I am.
*Unlike her traditional depiction, I'm not blonde.
Favorite line: I'd need to read through all the various mythology sources to find one.
brOTP: Her son Eros, when she's not abusing his future wife Psyche.
OTP: Her various famous lovers (Ares, Anchises, Adonis), and in some modern retellings, her husband Hephaestus.
nOTP: Any of her own children, or anyone she's put a curse on.
Random headcanon: If there's a place where the gods and goddesses of different cultures can meet, then when she visits that place, I'm sure she enjoys lording her fame over other love-goddesses like Inanna and Freya. None of them embody love and beauty throughout Western art and popular culture the way she does.
Unpopular opinion: I'm not sure how to feel about the traditional portrayal of her marriage to Hephaestus, or about revisionist versions thereof. On the one hand, I understand the urge to deconstruct the tradition of "beautiful goddess despises her ugly husband and has affairs willy-nilly with handsomer gods and men." By pure instinct, I like seeing them reimagined as a happily married couple. But at the same time, I think of all the discourse surrounding the Hades and Persephone myth, and apply the same thoughts here. Arguably, the fact that Aphrodite is forced into a loveless marriage reflects the experience of most women in ancient Greece, and the fact that she does have affairs willy-nilly – and that she's the goddess of love but not of marriage – reflects the separation between marriage and love in ancient Greek culture. Ultimately, I'm open to both types of retelling, just like I'm open both to "happily married Persephone" and "unhappily married Persephone" in portrayals of the Underworld.
Song I associate with them: None.
Favorite picture of them:
The Aphrodite of Knidos:
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The Aphrodite of Milos, or as it's better known in pop culture, the Venus de Milo:
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Sandro Botticelli's The Birth of Venus:
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Alexandre Cabanel's The Birth of Venus:
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The Sleeping Venus by Giorgione and Titian:
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Titian's Venus of Urbino, assuming she really is the goddess and not just a courtesan:
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Titian's Venus with a Mirror:
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Jacques-Louis David's Mars Being Disarmed by Venus:
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William Blake Richmond's Venus and Anchises:
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This illustration of her birth from D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths:
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Marilee Heyer's illustration of her birth from Doris Orgel's book We Goddesses:
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Aphrodite as she appears in Disney's Hercules – not high art, but she is cute:
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roohfully · 2 months
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sleeping venus, giorgione
venus of urbino, titian
olympia, manet
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arthistoriansdiary · 2 months
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Olympia
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Édouard Manet, Olympia (1863). Oil on canvas, 130.5 cm × 190 cm. Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
Édouard Manet's Olympia, painted in 1863, stands as a pivotal work in the history of art, not only for its radical departure from traditional representations of the female nude but also for its confrontation with societal norms and the role of women within them. This analysis explores Olympia in depth, highlighting its significance and the controversy it sparked upon its debut.
Olympia and the Challenge to Convention: Manet's Olympia depicts a nude woman, reclining, staring directly at the viewer with a confrontational gaze. Unlike the passive, idealized nudes of earlier artworks, Olympia's direct gaze and the presence of a black cat at her feet were seen as shocking. Her hand firmly covers her sexuality, not in a gesture of modesty, but as a display of control and autonomy. This portrayal was a stark contrast to the accepted depictions of female nudes as objects of male desire.
Comparison with Titian's Venus of Urbino: To fully appreciate Manet's revolutionary approach, one must consider Titian's Venus of Urbino (1534), a work that Manet referenced in Olympia. Titian's Venus, also reclining nude, engages the viewer with a softer gaze, her hand passively resting near her pelvis, surrounded by symbols of marital fidelity and domesticity. Unlike Olympia, Venus's environment and demeanour suggest an invitation rather than a confrontation. The comparison highlights Manet's departure from portraying the female subject as an object of desire to a figure of power and defiance.
The Name 'Olympia' and Its Implications: The name 'Olympia' itself was loaded with connotations. In the Paris of Manet's time, 'Olympia' was a name often associated with prostitutes, adding another layer of scandal to the painting's reception. This choice of name was not accidental; it was a deliberate commentary on the commodification of women's bodies and the blurred lines between respectability and sexuality in 19th-century society. By naming his subject 'Olympia', Manet directly challenged the viewer to confront their preconceptions and the societal norms dictating the representation and treatment of women.
Controversy and Legacy: Upon its exhibition, Olympia was met with outrage and ridicule, criticized for its "vulgar" subject matter and "unfinished" style. However, this criticism failed to recognize the depth of Manet's critique of societal and artistic norms. Today, Olympia is celebrated for its bold defiance of traditional art, its pivotal role in the development of modern art, and its complex commentary on gender, power, and the gaze.
Olympia's Glance: A 19th-Century Rebellion? In light of Olympia's unflinching gaze and assertive posture, how do you interpret her representation in the context of 19th-century societal expectations of women?
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gaymoustache · 1 year
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Angel of Little Deaths Art
I’ve been noticing a lot of attention on AOLD recently, and as a treat for anyone who enjoys art and the fic, I thought I would compile all of the paintings, sculptures, and architecture I referenced throughout the work.
Thank you for reading Angel of Little Deaths!
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The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, 1647-1652.
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Basilica di San Lorenzo, Florence by Filippo Brunelleschi, 1470.
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Madonna with Child. Fra Filippo Lippi, 1450-1465
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The Annunciation. Sandro Botticelli, 1490.
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Medusa. Caravaggio, 1597.
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Adam and Eve by Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1528 and Grotto of Adam and Eve by Giuseppe Cacialli, 1817.
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David by Michelangelo, 1501-1504.
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At the Moulin Rouge, the Dance, 1890 or Moulin Rouge: La Goulue, 1891 by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.
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The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, 1485-1486.
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Sleeping Venus by Giorgione and Titian, 1510
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Grande Odalisque by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1814.
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Olympia by Édouard Manet, 1863.
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Venus of Urbino by Titian, 1534
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Blue Water Lilies by Claude Monet, 1917-1919
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L’Origine du Monde by Gustave Courbet, 1866.
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k00288398 · 1 year
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RESEARCH
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Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus (c. 1484–1486). Tempera on canvas. 172.5 cm × 278.9 cm (67.9 in × 109.6 in). Uffizi, Florence
"The Birth of Venus" by Botticelli is the first image of a completely naked female body, where nudity does not symbolize original sin (as, for example, in the image of Eve). It painting was, probably, inspiration for Giorgione's "Sleeping Venus" (c. 1510) or Titian's "Venus of Urbino" (1538).
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Titian 1538
Venus of Urbino
Titian had a friend, Giorgione, a painter he trained and worked beside, both masters of the new Venetian Renaissance school, and they were in frequent friendly competition. But today there are about 300 works attributed to Titian and less than 10 to Giorgione. Why? Mostly because Giorgione died at 32 and Titian kept working. He outlived his contemporaries and kept improving so gained further fame. Famously, by his letters stating his age, he lived to 99. I've seen historians dispute this though, saying that since the average Venetian life expectancy then was about 40 this would be like someone today living to 160. Personally, I reckon he kept going just to produce all those amazing works.
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