soleilmarchand

[soleilmarchand]

strawberryfieldsforevcr​:

victor felt as if his heart and body were fighting each other every moment he stayed. his body said to leave and let the past be just that, the past. but his heart yearned soleil and it had for years now. maybe if they didn’t like in the same city it’d be easier to ignore all this. he stirred the pasta water and let his eyes wander to look at the other’s face. ‘that’s good. that it’s coming along…’ he nodded but also let out a soft laugh. he loved the marchand’s, he really did. but it was odd to call his somewhat ex boyfriend’s parents solely because he missed them. ‘you’re not, no. all right, i’ll call. the situation is strange though, i guess i’m surprised they still like me. i’m surprised you do. or don’t. enough to invite me in.’

soleil knew better than to deny the way he still felt for victor. denying it meant ignoring the way he still felt after all these years, which would only make him more miserable than he was after victor first left. “i wish it would come along faster, but... it is coming along...” he muttered, mostly to himself. soleil wasn’t exactly a patient person - instant gratification was more his thing, and this gallery search hadn’t exactly provided him with that yet. the sound of victor’s laugh made him feel a little better, though. leaning back to prop himself up against one of his wrists, he shrugged. “you know them. i do not think i have ever known them to really dislike a person.” his parents were much more selfless than soleil was; some may even wonder where soleil got his selfishness. “well, what was i supposed to do? turn you away?” he couldn’t do that; not when his heart longed for victor’s touch again. “we both know this is more difficult than it seems. especially when you come with cupcakes and make me dinner.”

[soleilmarchand]

strawberryfieldsforevcr​:

victor flashed the other an appreciating smile as he began to cook in the kitchen as if he lived here. maybe in another life, he truly would. ‘that is right, so thank you for not going back to painting.’ he remarked, putting a pot of water to boil and deciding of a simple pasta night. ‘i know, and you know that if i didn’t want to do this, i simply wouldn’t be here. everyone needs to be cared for every now and then. just doing my part. tell me about something. how was your day? heard from your parents lately?’

his eyes went down to his hands, trying not to stare at victor for too long. using his left thumb nail, he dug some dried paint out from under his nails on his right hand, looking back up when he heard victor speaking to him again. why? his brain asked -- why did he want to care for him, why, after all this time? not that soleil would turn him away; he couldn’t turn him away, even if he wanted to. his heart knew better than to think he could. “oh - um, my day was fine. uneventful. i am still looking for gallery spaces, but... it is coming along. and yes, i called them on thursday... you should call them. they were asking about you. and we both know i am not a very good middleman of conversations.”

[soleilmarchand]

strawberryfieldsforevcr​:

‘seven? i think.’ victor speculated, catching the time on the microwave and nodding. it’d been a long, long day already. he didn’t plan on spending the night at soleil’s so dinner was his excuse to leave after. ‘you’re welcome, sol. i know i didn’t have to, just wanted to.’ he said as he zipped around soleil’s kitchen to look into cupboards and the fridge to figure out what to make. ‘you can go continue your painting while i cook, if you want. i really don’t mind. just need some company so grunt in my direction every once in a while.’

he genuinely hadn’t realized that it was that late. pushing a hand through his hair to get his curls out of his face, he nodded a little bit, looking around aimlessly. it was better to look lost than to let himself stare at victor for too long. “victor, you and i both know that if i go back to painting, i will not remember to grunt in your direction every once in a while.” instead, he decided to sit on the counter, kicking his feet a little bit, hands folded between his legs. “you still do not have to do this. i appreciate you looking out for me, though - i do.”

[soleilmarchand]

strawberryfieldsforevcr​:

‘nothing surprising about that.’ victor had never minded waiting for soleil solely because he knew what that was like. when his mind was stuck on neurosurgery there was nothing in the world that could break his trance. it’s probably why they worked so well together, because there was always something in the world they liked better than they liked each other. ‘all good.’ victor replied, following soleil into the kitchen. ‘whatever you’re drinking’s fine. i brought cupcakes, i think you’ll like them all. did you have dinner? i could.. we could cook?’

that was probably soleil’s biggest issue - while he’d never put anyone before his art, he always expected his partners to make him the biggest part of their lives. he’d come close, once, to putting victor before his art, but that had only ended in heartbreak. that’s why he’d stop trying to be attached to others, for the most part. it only hurt him. whatever he was drinking...? soleil had had a glass of water in his studio, but that had quickly turned into a glass of paint water, and -- “dinner?” he repeated, his brow furrowing. “what time is it?” going to check the clock on the microwave, he was surprised to see he’d painted straight through when he’d usually eat. “no, i... did not have dinner. but thank you for the cupcakes, you did not have to do this for me.”

[soleilmarchand]

strawberryfieldsforevcr​:

victor knew what to expect, soleil standing there with paint all over him and looked needlessly perfect. a sight he was well accustomed to at this point and one he missed every night that he wasn’t here. he shook his head and stepped inside as the other stepped aside. ‘no, you didn’t. art trance?’ he asked, setting down the box of cupcakes and making himself at home in soleil’s flat. ‘how are you? not busy tonight, i hope?’ 

quickly moving out of the door frame so victor could come in, soleil closed and locked the door behind him, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “mais oui...” he muttered under his breath at the question. art trance was something that victor had to be used to by now; soleil knew he’d left him waiting more than once solely because of soleil’s inability to pull himself away from his paintings. “oh - no, not busy. i am good, all is... all is good. and you? all good?” he questioned, moving around him to get to the kitchen. “can i get you a drink? wine, water?”

[soleilmarchand]

soleil wouldn’t say that he purposely moved to the same city as victor vaden - just that it happened. it happened and it felt crazy but there they were, never as far from each other as they had once been. he could remember every day of their summer together like it was yesterday, he could remember all of the emotions that ran through him when they parted; it was all so vivid. he definitely hadn’t expected him to show up on his doorstep, though. the first time it happened it had shocked him. every time since then, it’s been a similar shock, though certainly less drastic. he never quite expected it to be victor, despite the fact that nearly no one else ever knocked at his door. this time, he was in the middle of painting yet another skyscrape, paint under his nails, all along his arms, on his forehead... he would certainly have to shower at some point that night. it took him a moment to respond to the knock, mostly because he was in such an art-induced trance, but when he was finally able to pull himself away, he wiped his hands on his pants before heading to the door. “oh -- hi,” he greeted softly, but knowing better than to mumble, as his accent could scramble things up, looking up at victor. “um - come in...” he could feel his heart racing in his chest already, trying to force himself to breathe. “did i keep you waiting too long...?”

SOLEIL. 

soleil marchand was a name he’d never forget. it’d been years and victor still managed to think about him. their little fleeting romance was never meant to be anything more than it was. he was meant to forget, not miss him still. of course it hardly helped that soleil lived in the same city and so victor was bound to run into him. though technically, standing on his doorstep wasn’t a normal run in, but a very planned one. he’d finished a very tough shift and picked up cupcakes and he wanted to share. try as he might to ignore him, every couple of months he’d end up on soleil’s doorstep just to talk until the next day when he’d refuse to believe anything happened. he knocked on the door, unsure if soleil was in or not but knowing he’d just pace the corridor until the boy came home. victor absolutely hated how weak he appeared in front of soleil, how his body would conform to anything the other wanted. 

@soleilmarchand​

[soleilmarchand]

SOLEIL MARCHAND | 24 | ARTIST

Welcome to Brighton, SOLEIL MARCHAND ! HE has lived here for 2 YEARS and works as an ARTIST. They are known for being OPENMINDED, CREATIVE, STUBBORN, and NARCISSISTIC.

A self-professed dreamer and lover, Soleil was raised with an open heart and an open mind. His father, a museum curator, and his mother, a painter, raised him to value love over everything. He was raised in Marseille, taught to speak English almost as fluently as he speaks French, and valued adventure and independence from a young age.

His passion for art was evident from a young age; he spent much of his time in his mother’s studio, watching and mimicking what she did. A young Soleil was frequently found with paint on his clothes, his hands, his face - anywhere paint could’ve been, it was. Luckily, his parents nurtured that love for art, and Soleil continued to devote himself to his craft, honing it as he grew.

He prefers to paint with acrylics, and his two preferred subjects are skyscapes - mostly clouds at sunset or sunrise - and nude portraiture. He tends to lose track of time while he’s painting, classical music playing around the small apartment he’s dedicated to his studio space.

With his art, he grew up reading about painters of the past. He studied their work, adored knowing that this passion was one that anyone and everyone could have and nurture. Denis, Monet, and Sisley are among his favorites.

Soleil’s name matches his personality - he’s a people pleaser, and many say he lights up a room when he enters. He’s the type to want to please everyone and anyone, and he’s incredibly loyal to his friends. If you get on his bad side, though, he’ll hold a grudge like no other.

His art is his pride and joy, and he loves to share it with the world. He fears irrelevancy - fears that, when he dies, his name won’t live outside of his parents’ legacy. He wants for nothing but adoration - and from that adoration, love. He also fears dying unloved. While he’s very open about his sexuality, and the type to sleep around, he does dream about settling down someday.

Raised on world travel, Soleil still keeps in frequent contact with his parents; he loves them and is grateful for everything they’ve given him, and every opportunity he has. One of his favorite paintings of his own is still hanging above the fireplace in the foyer in their home.

He thrives off of praise, appreciates both platonic and romantic cuddling, and, to this day, can still be found with paint on his skin and clothes daily.

With all of that being said - many still describe him as a deviant, both sexually and non-sexually. He has a list of kinks a mile long, is known for running his mouth, and is never at a party without a drink in his hand. He’s drawn to other artists, dreamers, and, frequently, those older than him with stories to share.

All said and done, Soleil is a lover, a dreamer, and, most importantly in his eyes, an artist. His apartment is always open for visitors, and nights out celebrating nothing in particular can frequently be found in Soleil’s life.

tldr ; soleil's french; he's an artist and lowkey a wh*re but we aren't slut shaming him for enjoying his life and he just really wants everyone ever to like him except he's kind of vain and like "i am the prettiest person alive". let him paint your characters nude bc he wants to do it, and um.... he has paint on his clothes/skin like 24/7

wcs! past hookups, present hookups, best friends, people who dislike him, um.....anything and everything else come love him or hate him thanks :)

[soleilmarchand]

[soleilmarchand]

Timothée Chalamet for L’Uomo Vogue, photography by Karim Sadli x

[soleilmarchand]

[soleilmarchand]

Still Life with Roses, Peonies and Lilac, 1848, Adriana Johanna Haanen

[soleilmarchand]

[soleilmarchand]

[soleilmarchand]

(x)

[soleilmarchand]

I fall in love with details.

(via liebeficktunsalle)

[soleilmarchand]

Clouds Studies by Simon Denis