#Spring Fresco

[livesunique]

Villa Falconieri, Frascati, RM, Italy

[greennoobartist]

Have some school shenanigans from Thursday and today cus why not :)

Thursday:

Vio and Shadow helped me with my work again :) We had to write a vignette (basically a short story with only two characters) and *sigh* yeah... I chose Vio and Shadow. Fluffy? Nope :) Would've been angsty asf if I didn't remade it to match like slice-of-life style :D

My computer science teacher plays Nintendo music during class and i love it sm ^^ So far she played Courage from TP (i love that song it makes me wanna cry), Mario Galaxy, and a lot of pkmn soundtracks :D Since I only played Kanto and Johto so far, i didn't recognize much but I knew it's from pkmn. And that day, she played a soundtrack of a route from Leaf Green. I don't know what route it is, ill try to find it, but I wanted to cry. It, it brought such nostalgia and memories i wanted to cry right there in the middle of the class. Leaf green is my first pkmn game and I love it sm and hearing that soundtrack was so nostalgic 😭😭😭 I literally barely held back my tears until it was over and she played another soundtrack from pkmn again but with no deep meaning for me. LEAF GREEN MY BELOVED I MISS YOU 😭😭😭 VENUSAUR MY SON I HOPE YOU'RE STILL ALIVEEEEE 😭😭😭💚💚💚

I don't wanna brag but I think im too smart for my class :)

Friday:

I had to edit the vignette for my teacher to grade it and it was actually so hard 😭 Im bad at editing my own work and it was so hard bcuz i love to detail stuff but a vignette is supposed to be short. I barely made it. When I kinda did it, i showed it to my teacher and this is exactly what happened:

Teacher: I see that you're a passionate reader. This is great!

TSoTT Shadow in my imagination: *gently bumps me with his elbow* hehe, told you. I told you your writing is great! Now ya shouldn't doubt TSoTT cuz ya actually try very hard with it!

Me: Yeah, i do love to read lots of stories. Im actually writing one.

Teacher: great job! *writes a 100 in the grade book*

TSoTT Shadow: *grins mischievously at me*

Me: Thank you.

(Yeah im a crazy person I actually imagine my TSoTT boys talk to me and interact with me during regular day. Shadow is most commonly bcuz imagine him coming out of my Shadow and it isn't rare for Vio to be too)

This time my computer science teacher played pkmn soundtracks again, but this time there was no that caused such nostalgia from me. I tried to take my headphones to find what route it is, but my headphones didn't work so i had to leave it for later.

I spedran all of my work as fast as I could just so i can be free for spring break :D I was actually barely able to do it and im so happy :3 I was literally staring at the clock and zapped out of the classroom when the bell rang, i really wanted to leave bcuz this week wasn't really nice to me :(

And again: i think im too smart for my class bcuz this was literally me today:

I literally quoted him without regrets bcuz oh my God why is everyone in my class so immature and DUMB?? Like am I acting WAAAY too mature or y'all never grew up?

Anyways that's it :D

I just had to yap for a bit bcuz when I yap about random stuff it means that im happy and i am actually happy since I have lots of stuff planned out. Everyone continues to be pessimistic around me and today I think it was even worse idk. But I don't wanna focus on that now, i wanna take care of myself and be positive after 3 fucking years :3

(me to all negative people around me: mess up with my mood and you're dead 🔪)

[nutty-photo-beauty]

[afrenchladyinnc]

[flaroh]

The Lovers of Akrotiri 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🐦‍⬛🌺🌞

Junes illustration is a sweet scene of two Minoan girlfriends, that plays on the saffron gatherer motif but this time with a stylised lily landscape reminiscent of the “Spring Fresco of Akrotiri”. 🐦‍⬛🌺🌞

Their dresses are based on frescos of women and goddesses from the Minoan city of Akrotiri that was preserved in a volcanic eruption in the 16th century BCE🌋

[romegreeceart]

Roman calendar - April 27/28*-May 2, Floralia

Festival of Flora, a goddess of spring, flowers, vegetation and fertility. During the festival week the Games of Flora (Ludi Florae) were held. During these games people could watch theatrical performances, nude dancing, circus events, gladiator combats and also ritual sacrifices.

More info here:

https://penelope.uchicago.edu/encyclopaedia_romana/calendar/floralia.html

*= Julian Calendar

fresco: Villa Arianna, Stabiae, 1st century CE

attribution:

ArchaiOptix, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

[airandyeah]

400 Follower Drabble

Might become a full fic, lmk what you think! DemonKing!Sukuna X PrincessSuccubus!Reader

The music is slow. Sinister. The kind of melody that slithers beneath your skin and curls up beside your soul, whispering sweet nothingness with every echoing note. A dark symphony bleeds from instruments carved of bone and strung with the hair of saints—only the finest for the infernal elite. It fills the gilded hall with a weight that makes even ancient devils shift in their seats, their laughter quieting to reverent murmurs.

The ballroom itself is a marvel of contradiction.

Bright marble floors polished to a gleam stretch beneath your heels, each step you take mirrored by a haunting twin beneath you. Above, the ceiling is a canvas of forgotten myth—frescoes of sinners weeping, gods falling, angels burning. And all of it is lit by blue fire, flickering in wrought iron sconces shaped like open mouths, the flames licking hungrily at the air as if tasting the sins of the crowd.

Demons, nobles, beasts with too many teeth and too little shame, mingle in clusters draped in silks, sin, and sarcasm. You can feel eyes on you—many of them—but none that matter.

Not yet.

Your presence is nothing subtle. A princess, yes, but a succubus first. Every inch of you is crafted to tempt and ruin. Your gown clings like want, midnight-black velvet kissed with ruby accents, plunging and slitted in all the ways a ballroom full of devils might expect… but none are prepared for how you wear it like armor.

And then the music stops.

Only for a breath.

And in that pause—the instant the silence falls thick like blood in the throat—you feel it. Him.

A presence like a wound torn open. Like gravity shifting. Like everything you’ve ever fed on might pale in comparison to the feast that just walked through the doors.

The Demon King arrives without announcement. He doesn't need one.

He steps into the ballroom like it’s his, because it is. Four arms, all muscle and menace. Blood-red markings wind up his skin like a lover’s touch, and his eyes—gods, his eyes—meet yours as if he’d been hunting you before he even knew your name.

And for the first time in a very long while, you feel like prey.

The crowd parts for him like shadows fleeing light, though the blue flames on the walls only burn colder in his presence.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. Not when his gaze pins you like a blade to velvet. One of his hands—clawed, calloused, commanding—extends toward you.

A silent invitation.

No, not silent. Demanding.

Your pulse thrums like a snare drum in your ears, but you accept, lips curling into a slow, wicked smile as you slip your fingers into his. The moment your skin touches his, something ancient stirs between you—dark, primal, and coiled tight like a spring.

The musicians sense it. The new rhythm is immediate. Fast. Dangerous. A tango that crackles with unspoken threats and electric seduction.

You move first—sharp, precise, like a dagger unsheathed. Your hips sway with purpose, your steps slicing across the floor, and you feel his arms wrap around you. One at your waist, another sliding along the curve of your back, two more catching your hand and wrist.

He leads with impossible control. You follow with defiant grace.

The crowd watches, entranced, as the two of you spin through the center of the ballroom like a storm contained in rhythm. Twists. Turns. His strength against your cunning. His grip is vice-like, perfect, adjusting with each flick of your wrist, each snap of your heel. You test him with sudden dips and unpredictable sways, but he matches every move.

Every time you lean back, he’s there. Every time you lunge forward, his body meets yours like a wall of fire and flesh. One hand grips your thigh during a particularly daring move, lifting you with brute ease as the room gasps—a moment too intimate, too raw.

But you don’t flinch.

Neither does he.

You’re breathing fast now. Not from exhaustion—but exhilaration.

His lips ghost your ear as the music hits its crescendo. “You dance like you want to kill me.”

You smirk, letting your nails drag lightly down one of his arms. “Only if you’re lucky.”

A spin, another pull—his hands guiding you into a sudden dip so deep your hair brushes the cold marble. All four of his hands hold you steady, his chest inches from yours, his breath warm.

“Careful, little succubus,” he purrs, fangs just visible behind that slow, terrible smile. “You might not want what happens if I bite back.”

The music winds down, the final note drawn out like a blade across silk, and the ballroom holds its breath.

He doesn’t release you.

His four hands linger—on your waist, your wrist, your thigh, your back. Possessive. Unapologetic. His crimson eyes drag over your face like he’s searching for something. A flaw, perhaps. Or a challenge.

Then comes the smug curl of his lip.

“Hiding, are we?” His voice is velvet soaked in wine and blood. “A pretty illusion, but not your true skin. I wonder…” He leans in, letting his nose brush just above your cheekbone, inhaling softly. “What are you afraid of, little princess?”

You tilt your chin, eyes narrowing in a slow, measured smile that doesn’t reach the heat behind your gaze.

“Afraid?” Your voice drips with sweet venom. “Darling, you mistake grace for fear.”

You raise your hand slowly, curling your fingers beneath his jaw, the soft pad of your thumb brushing his sharp cheekbone. Then you let the shift ripple through you—not a dramatic explosion of power, no, but something far more elegant. More deliberate.

It starts at your shoulders, your skin shimmering like starlight on obsidian. Your wings bloom open with a whisper, delicate but undeniably deadly—webbed, graceful, and tipped in rose-gold. Your tail flicks behind you, long and velvet-smooth, ending in a plush heart-shaped tip glowing faintly pink. Finally, your horns curl upward from your hair, elegant as a crown—ram-like, smooth and dark, but each ring glowing a soft, cotton-candy hue that pulses like breath.

The room gasps behind you.

But you only keep your eyes on him.

“You find this form more appealing?” you ask sweetly, wings flaring just enough to cast a lovely little shadow over the marble.

Sukuna's grin sharpens—wolfish and slow. “Better,” he murmurs, eyes devouring every newly revealed inch of you. “Now you look like something worth corrupting.”

You lean in close, brushing your lips just beside the corner of his mouth, not quite touching. “I’m not something you corrupt, King. I’m the temptation before the fall.”

[burningembers91]

Al Fresco Dining - Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

War Torn Love Keeping Hope Alive Sweet Like Chocolate

Synopsis: Keen to reconnect, you and Baek Kang-Hyuk try to schedule a date. But when work gets in the way. Kang-Hyuk is forced to improvise.

A/N: This storyline has been pretty angsty so far, so I'm breaking it up with a little bit of fluff :)

Baek Kang-Hyuk loved being a doctor; his job was his whole life. Up until now he’d never been bothered about having anything other than a career, but then he’d reconnected with you, and everything had changed. He still loved his job, but he was finding that being a trauma doctor didn’t leave much room for anything else in his life. Since that day in his office, he had tried, and failed, to set up a date with you four times. Each date had been cancelled at the last minute when a patient was wheeled through the doors needing urgent medical care. Every time he cancelled, Kang-Hyuk was so sure you’d walk away, that you’d tell him you’d had enough; but you never did.

You understood the importance of his job, knew that patients took priority over everything else. After all, if it hadn’t been for Kang-Hyuk and other doctors like him, you wouldn’t be alive. The constant cancellations were getting to you a bit, but you would never in a million expect him to leave a patient in need so he could take you out to dinner. You’d waited two years to be with Kang-Hyuk; you could wait a little longer.

You were due to head out to a new restaurant in an hour, and so far, everything was looking good. The trauma centre had been relatively quiet, they were well-staffed, and Kang-Hyuk was up to date on his paperwork. This time, it seemed like the date was scheduled to go ahead as planned. But neither of you could have predicted the 20-car pile-up, the casualties being flown in by helicopter and transported by ambulance, completely overrunning the trauma centre.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked down the phone, “I’m going to have to cancel again.” The words were like a blow to the gut, your heart aching as yet another chance to rekindle your budding relationship was snatched away. You wondered whether this was the universe’s way of telling you that you and Kang-Hyuk just weren’t meant to be. “It’s ok,” you smiled, though your heart was breaking. “I have paperwork to finish up anyway. Maybe another time.” You hung up, staring at the mountain of files on your desk. You couldn’t face going home, couldn’t bear to spend another night alone in front of the TV with a bowl of instant noodles, so you picked up one of the files and got to work.

The guilt was eating away at Kang-Hyuk as he worked, never quite managing to get you out of his head as he battled to save the victims coming through his doors. He’d heard the disappointment in your voice when he’d cancelled again, and he wondered whether he’d lost the chance he so desperately wanted to make things work. His head tried to resign himself to the fact that it just wasn’t meant to be, but his heart wouldn’t let it lie. You’d been destined to be together, from the moment he laid eyes on you in that war torn hospital; he couldn’t let this chance get away from him. As soon as the patients were all stable, he excused himself and ran to the nearest convenience store, picking up any and every snack he could get his hands on. As he sprinted back to the hospital, he dialled your number. “Are you still in your office?” he panted, bursting through the main doors. “I was just about to leave. Why? Has something happened?” “Yes,” he smiled, “I’ve managed to get us reservations at an exclusive restaurant. Meet me on the roof in ten minutes.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, hanging up as he bolted up the fire escape stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

It was a warm spring night, the starlit sky completely cloudless. Kang-Hyuk spread his lab coat across the concrete roof, setting out the items he’d bought. His heart was pounding, his palms sweaty as he waited for your arrival. He felt like a nervous teenager going on his first date, his stomach flipping with excitement and nerves. It wasn’t the date he’d had in mind, but he would do anything to spend time with you. He heard the door to the roof open, heard your footsteps approaching. “Kang-Hyuk?”

He turned at the sound of your voice, his smile spreading wide across his face as he took you in. Your face glowed in the light of the moon and stars; your eyes bright as you took in the impromptu picnic. “What’s all this?” you smiled. “I couldn’t wait to see you,” he told you, his hands gingerly reaching out to pull your body into his. “I couldn’t cancel again.” You hadn’t been this close since the day his office, when his lips had so gently brushed against yours. Kang-Hyuk had dreamt of kissing you every night since then, had longed to feel your lips on his again. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. Even in the dark of the night, he could see you blush, could hear the way your breath hitched in your chest as you leaned into his touch. His relationship with you had never been conventional, born between gun fire and crumbling buildings. He’d so badly wanted the start of your new relationship to be more normal, to begin as most couple’s did, in a restaurant or bar; but you two had never been normal.

Kang-Hyuk lowered his lips to yours, two years’ worth of yearning coming together in a single kiss. It was passionate and fiery, your fingers entwining in his thick, dark hair as you held him place. His tongue traced your lower lip, every atom of his body burning with desire as you moaned against him. He’d forgotten how amazing it felt to kiss you, how eagerly his body responded to the smallest of your touches. He wanted to take it further, wanted to lay you down on his coat and make love to you under the stars, but he didn’t know how much time he had before he’d be called away again. Reluctantly, he pulled away, your face clasped gently between your hands as you took in every inch of your face. Kang-Hyuk wasn’t a religious man, but he thanked whatever Gods may or may not be present that you’d been brought back to him. “Come,” he smiled, leading you over to makeshift picnic. “Let’s eat.”

You sat and chatted while you ate, staring up at the star-filled sky. You could have spent an eternity with him up on the roof, so far removed from the chaos of the hospital that lay only a few floors below you. You only managed thirty minutes of uninterrupted bliss before his phone rang. “I know,” you smiled, as he hung up, an apologetic look on his handsome features. “Duty calls.” “We will find time for us,” he whispered, pulling you in for one last kiss. “I promise you.” You watched as he hurried away, the smell of his cologne still clinging to your blouse.

Your relationship with Kang-Hyuk wouldn’t be easy; it would take a lot of work and a lot of patience from both of you. But fate was a funny thing, and it had brought you together against all odds. You’d be a fool to give up and lose him again. You stayed on the roof a while longer, staring up at the stars, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

You’d take whatever time you could get with Kang-Hyuk, savouring every precious moment. Most couples would choose to go to a restaurant for a date, but you much preferred a picnic on the roof and stolen kisses under the stars.

[starsinthesky5]

omg can you show us an outfit that gives songbird at the met!

a/n: oh this is my favorite thing ever. also, heavenly bodies is my all time favorite met theme & gigi's look is forever going to be my favorite.

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

let's ignore the years these themes were from for the purposes of this universe!

first met gala: “in america: a lexicon of fashion”

designer: christian siriano

for her debut, she arrived like spring incarnate—soft, whimsical, and fresh. her look was a short pink corset dress with a cascading tulle train covered in vibrant, hand-sewn flowers: peonies, roses, orchids, violets, each petal carefully placed to feel alive. the dress featured all 50 state flowers. delicate blooms trailed across her shoulder and wrapped around her body like nature itself was claiming her. it was romantic, flirty, and distinctly american in its celebration of femininity, freedom, and rebirth. her hair was long and sleek, tucked behind her ears to show off diamond studs, and she wore glassy silver heels that twinkled as she walked. it was a fairytale entrance.

second met gala: “heavenly bodies: fashion and the catholic imagination”

designer: versace

for her sophomore appearance, she traded softness for power. she wore a stunning, asymmetrical gown that looked like stained glass brought to life—panels of metallic embroidery in gold, blue, and deep green swirled around her body, sculpting her figure and catching the light with every step. the one-sleeved bodice was sharp and commanding, the slit up her leg daring but elegant. it was art, devotion, and rebellion all stitched together. she leaned into the theme with quiet reverence, her makeup luminous and celestial, her nails painted like tiny cathedrals. there was something untouchable about her that night—like she’d walked straight out of a fresco painting. she looked like a divine being, ethereal but grounded, commanding the attention of every lens without trying.

[doctorsiren]

As extra credit for my art history class, I redrew the Villa of Mysteries fresco, but made it FNAF

I will not elaborate ( but I will list the characters below the cut )

Characters listed from left to right

Top: Spring Bonnie, Evan Afton, Fredbear, Chica and Carl, Bonnie, Michael Afton (Sister Location), Foxy, Freddy, Circus Baby, Abby Schmidt, Gregory, Glamrock Freddy

Middle: Michael Afton (PizzaSim), Charlie Emily (the animatronic one from those books), teenage Michael Afton, Michael Afton (under the name Jeremy Fitzgerald, with the broken part of the fresco representing the Bite of ‘87), (young/pre-marriage) William Afton, Clara Afton/Schmidt

Bottom: Mike Schmidt (movie), Vanessa Shelly (movie), William Afton (purple guy), Ballora, Charlie Emily, the Marionette, Henry Emily, Elizabeth Afton, Springtrap

It’s funny because I had to do a “brief” write-up to explain my piece (which felt impossible due to how much I would have needed to explain but I got through it), and so I will leave you with this one quote as it reminds me of those MatPat out of context clips (specifically “…the ENDER DRAGON-” clip) (also I feel bad for my professor but whatever hehe)

[greennoobartist]

FINALLY!!! SPRING BREAK!!! WOOOOOOO!!!

I literally spedran all my homework at school just so i can be completely free for spring break ^v^

BUT FINALLY!! I HAVE SO MANY THINGS I WANNA DO!!

Have a low quality image of Lily getting out of her school bus today:

FREEDOOOOOOOOMMM!!!!

[nutty-photo-beauty]

[allegorypaintings]

Parnassus

Artist: Nicolas Poussin (French, 1594-1665)

Date: 1630-1631

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, Spain

Description

Parnassus, the mythological mountain of Apollo and the Muses is the scene for a celebration of the Arts, especially Poetry. Apollo offers the nectar of the gods to a poet, probably Homer, who is crowned with a laurel wreath by Calliope, the muse of epic poetry. The putti in the foreground offer the poets the water of inspiration that flows from the spring of Castalia, personified by the nude woman. This work is based on a fresco by Raphael at the Vatican and may pay homage to the Italian poet, Giovanni Battista Marino (1569-1625), who was Poussin´s patron. A preparatory drawing for this work is in the G. Wildenstein collection. There is also an engraving of it, made by Jean Dughet before 1667.

[talonabraxas]

“This love is the rose that blooms forever.” - Rumi

Goddess Venus Talon Abraxas

The beautiful goddess Venus is probably most familiar from the armless statue known as the Venus de Milo, displayed at the Louvre, in Paris. The statue is Greek, from the Aegean island of Milos or Melos, so one might expect Aphrodite, since the Roman goddess Venus is distinct from the Greek goddess, but there is substantial overlap. You'll notice the name Venus is often used in translations of Greek myths.

Fertility Goddess

The goddess of love has an ancient history. Ishtar/Astarte was the Semitic goddess of love. In Greece, this goddess was called Aphrodite. Aphrodite was worshiped especially on the islands of Cyprus and Kythera. The Greek goddess of love played a crucial role in the myths about Atalanta, Hippolytus, Myrrha, and Pygmalion. Among mortals, the Greco-Roman goddess loved Adonis and Anchises. The Romans originally worshiped Venus as the goddess of fertility. Her fertility powers spread from the garden to humans. The Greek aspects of the love and beauty goddess Aphrodite were added on to Venus' attributes, and so for most practical purposes, Venus is synonymous with Aphrodite. The Romans revered Venus as the ancestor of the Roman people through her liaison with Anchises.

"She was the goddess of chastity in women, despite the fact that she had many affairs with both gods and mortals. As Venus Genetrix, she was worshiped as the mother (by Anchises) of the hero Aeneas, the founder of the Roman people; as Venus Felix, the bringer of good fortune; as Venus Victrix, the bringer of victory; and as Venus Verticordia, the protector of feminine chastity. Venus is also a nature goddess, associated with the arrival of spring. She is the bringer of joy to gods and humans. Venus really had no myths of her own but was so closely identified with the Greek Aphrodite that she 'took over' Aphrodite's myths."

The Parentage of the Goddess Venus/Aphrodite

Venus was the goddess not only of love, but of beauty, so there were two important aspects to her and two main stories of her birth. Note that these birth stories are really about the Greek version of the goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite:

"There were actually two different Aphrodites, one was the daughter of Uranus, the other the daughter of Zeus and Dione. The first, called Aphrodite Urania, was the goddess of spiritual love. The second, Aphrodite Pandemos, was the goddess of physical attraction."

Portraits of Venus

Although we are most familiar with the nude Venus artistic representations, this wasn't always the way she was portrayed:

"The patron deity of Pompeii was Venus Pompeiana; she was always shown as being fully clothed and wearing a crown. The statues and frescos which have been found in Pompeian gardens always show Venus either scantily clothed or totally nude. Pompeians seem to have referred to these nude images of Venus as Venus fisica; this may be from the Greek word physike, which meant 'related to nature'."

Festivals of the Goddess

"Her cult originated from Ardea and Lavinium in Latium. The oldest temple known of Venus dates back to 293 B.C., and was inaugurated on August 18. Later, on this date the Vinalia Rustica was observed. A second festival, that of the Veneralia, was celebrated on April 1 in honor of Venus Verticordia, who later became the protector against vice. Her temple was built in 114 B.C. After the Roman defeat near Lake Trasum in 215 B.C., a temple was built on the Capitol for Venus Erycina. This temple was officially opened on April 23, and a festival, the Vinalia Priora, was instituted to celebrate the occasion."

[fab-bladesmith]

A Sidesword, in a late XVth century style.

This one draws most of its inspiration from the artwork of Luca Signorelli in the years 1494-1498, though the grip wrap was suggested by a fresco in the San Donnino church in the parish of Villamagna in Bagno a Ripoli, near Florence.

Spring steel blade, with etched and gold-plated ricasso and fuller, and gold plated crossguard and pommel - the latter being hollow. The grip is leather over a wooden core, with gold-plated copper wire on top.

Inscriptions in the fullers read " AVE MARIA REGINA" on one side, and "MORIOR CAEDO MALUM" on the other - those who know will know.

The style of the etchings was inspired by the Boar Sword of Philip the Fair kept at the Kunsthistorischesmuseum

It is 997 mm long, with a 864 mm long, 32 mm wide blade, 4.5 mm thick at one base. The cross span is 268 mm. Weight is a mere 729 grams, with a point of balance 16 cm from the cross that still gives it a nice authority in the cut and in the bind.

Currently at forty one hundred units in the European system.

[amethvysts]

STRAWBERRIES, CHERRIES AND AN ANGEL'S KISS IN SPRING — E. KUKURICZKA HEADCANONS.

𖥻 sumário: pensamentos sobre kuku!cowboy. 𖥻 avisos: atenção pauta estadunidense aplicada a realidade latino-americana (pela vibe) só webdivas +18 nessa amores. age & size difference, corruption kink. idk meus rasos conhecimentos sobre o mundo rural. não tá revisado.

💭 nota da autora: *música do globo rural tocando ao fundo* oi minhas irmãs, trago esse aqui depois de muito quebrar a cabeça. tô bem feliz com o resultado, mas pretendo expandir mais no futuro! espero que gostem ♡

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que foi obrigado a cuidar da fazenda da família muito cedo, por uma reviravolta do destino. Os sonhos de se tornar um brilhante peão de rodeio profissional tiveram de ser abandonados em favor da sobrevivência dos negócios. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que se tornou uma referência para todos os funcionários de sua fazenda e moradores da região. Além da sua maravilhosa administração, realmente se tornou o amigo da vizinhança; para ele, não existe nada melhor do que estar perto da sua comunidade, devolvendo os serviços prestados para o engrandecimento dos negócios Kukuriczka. Desde muito novo, foi visto como uma ótima aposta. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, mesmo enriquecendo a família e a região a níveis nunca vistos antes, foi condenado à solidão desde seus vinte e poucos anos. Frustrado pela impossibilidade de fazer o que ama profissionalmente, decidiu focar toda a sua atenção no trabalho. E mesmo que isso tenha trazido resultados impressionantes… a que custo? 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, como o único momento de pausa do dia, visita todos os animais da fazenda. Aproveita sempre para fazer um carinho, dar um petisco e verificar se estão todos bem. Obviamente, seus favoritos são os cavalos; seu predileto é um Appaloosa marrom e branco chamado Café (ele não pensou muito quando o nomeou, é verdade).

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, desde seus dez anos, era presença confirmada em todos os rodeios da cidade. Antes de assumir a fazenda, sempre se apresentava como peão, mostrando os truques que aprendera e a evolução de suas habilidades – sempre ficava em primeiro lugar nas categorias. E apesar de ter continuado a frequentar durante a juventude, parou de achar graça em participar das celebrações só como um convidado mais do que especial. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, apesar de nunca ter entrado em um relacionamento sério com ninguém – entende que ninguém pode ser mais importante do que a sua função na fazenda –, passou boa parte dos seus vinte e trinta e poucos anos com todo rabo de saia que passava na cidade. Sempre que ia aos rodeios no final de semana, era certo que voltaria com companhia para casa, se despedindo logo na manhã seguinte. Cowboy!Esteban que, como disse anteriormente, tornou-se um tanto amargo por não conseguir viver o sonho de continuar competindo como peão nos rodeios. Por isso, sua presença nos rodeios com o passar dos anos tornou-se cada vez mais difícil. E agora, com quarenta anos, quase nunca aparece, apenas quando estritamente necessário, como em eventos profissionais. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, por algum truque do destino, comparece a um dos rodeios após meses sem dar as caras por ali. Talvez por ter passado tanto tempo distante, e também por conhecer todos que moram naquele finzinho de mundo, é um dos primeiros a notar a sua presença na festa. E fica de olho em você a noite inteirinha. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que pergunta para todos os amigos e conhecidos (e amigos de conhecidos, e conhecidos de conhecidos…) quem você é. O interesse dele é claro e até palpável desde o início, mesmo que essa notícia não tenha chegado a você de primeira. Algo no seu jeito de se portar e no seu rostinho tão fresco imediatamente desperta o interesse do mais velho. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que depois de descobrir que você é uma garota da cidade, recém-chegada para passar um tempo com alguns familiares distantes, e que tem pouco mais da metade da idade dele, se sente um tanto intimidado. Tenta ao máximo deixar o sentimento de lado, se convencer que jamais poderia se aproximar; o que uma garota linda que nem você iria fazer com um velho que nem ele? 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que pensa em qualquer conversa com você como uma tortura, porque ele passa o tempo te observando, mas não consegue fazer nada. Nem um flerte ou algum pequeno movimento para te seduzir. Nada. E ele te encara como se você tivesse pendurado as estrelas no céu, um olhar repleto de admiração, mesmo que também carregado de desejo. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que passa as noites em claro enquanto lembra de todos os detalhes sobre você. O colarzinho de pérolas, o esmalte clarinho e brilhante, a cicatriz do joelho, a blusinha que espremia seus peitos e a sainha que mal cobria a sua bunda, mostrando um pouco da calcinha de renda sempre que você se abaixava para amarrar os cadarços. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que se achava um pervertido total por imaginar que você jamais faria nada daquilo intencionalmente. Nunca uma garota boazinha como você, tão respeitosa e educada, provocaria um cara como ele. Esse pensamento nunca passou na cabeça dele… até perceber que, por mais inocente que fosse, você faria, sim, tudo isso. E ainda pior. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, depois de tanto tempo, finalmente resolve dar em cima de você durante um dos rodeios. Aproveita, sim, o momento em que você tá mais saidinha depois de beber um pouquinho, mas também não vai com tudo e muito menos se força; deixa as mãos na sua cintura, descendo para o quadril, por mais tempo que de costume, aperta, massageia o suficiente para fazer aquele calorzinho subir pelo teu corpo. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que te cola na frente do corpo dele e sempre que quer falar alguma coisa contigo, se inclina sob o seu ombro, colando a boca bem no seu ouvido. Isso tudo enquanto as mãos continuam explorando o seu corpo, segurando a sua sainha contra as suas coxas e subindo as mãos para apertar a pele da sua barriga. E quando você responde, ele te dá aquele sorrisinho encantador dele, assentindo com a cabeça como se realmente se importasse com o que você tá contando.  

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que se sente no dever de te ensinar e te proteger de tudo no mundo, e não demora muito tempo até você ganhar a fama de princesinha do Esteban pela cidade. Ele é muito respeitado pelos serviços que presta na comunidade, e por isso, ninguém se atreve a mexer com você. Os homens da cidadezinha nem pensam mais em olhar para você com segundas intenções, mas as mulheres não se cansam de te invejar – de todas, é claro que ele iria escolher a garotinha da cidade para se engraçar. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que é um romântico adormecido. Depois de ter passado tanto tempo sem se apaixonar de verdade, você vem como um sopro de ar fresco na vida do velho caubói. Conforme vocês vão se conhecendo, ele também passa a entrar em contato com um novo lado dele mesmo; aquele que gosta de comprar flores, te convidar para jantares, dirigir sem rumo no meio da noite só para jogar papo fora com você… acaba percebendo que sente prazer nessas coisas que, antes, seriam uma bobeira. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, como já disse, é mais velho do que você, e por isso, entende que deve te ensinar sobre tudo o que sabe. É muito confiável e quer que você o veja como alguém que pode contar em qualquer momento. Não demora muito para que ele passe a tomar conta de você, mesmo. E larga tudo caso você precise da ajuda dele. Uma carona depois de uma noite com as amigas? Basta um telefonema (ele não sabe mexer no celular, então nem adianta enviar mensagem) que ele vai te buscar com a caminhonete, em questão de minutos. Gastou demais comprando roupa e esqueceu da conta de luz? Não precisa se preocupar, ele te empresta o dinheiro, sem juros e sem cobrança. 

✮ㆍSó expandindo o que acabei de pontuar hihi: Cowboy!Esteban que não sabe mexer no próprio celular, e mesmo assim, tem um modelo super moderno – culpa do sobrinho, que disse que ele precisava desistir das teclas e passar para o touch. Quando vê as mensagens (muito raramente), se comunica apenas com emojis. As conversas de vocês, quando não são por áudio ou ligação, consistem em mensagens gigantescas suas, às vezes até mais de uma, as quais ele responde apenas com um "👍".  Uma vez, você mandou uma mensagem totalmente desesperada, escrevendo horrores porque precisava estava se sentindo sob pressão por conta do trabalho e finalizou com um "sei lá, mas acho que vou resolver se eu me matar", e ele, distraído que só, enviou o "👍". Depois que ele lê tudo o que você mandou com calma, teu celular não vai parar de tocar, de tanto que Esteban te liga. Todo preocupado, ele te diz, "mas, minha linda, você tá bem mesmo, né? Não me fala essas coisas nem de brincadeira, por favor". 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que sente que tá a beira da loucura sempre que te vê andando pelo casarão com uma das suas sainhas e aquela porra de lacinho no cabelo. É claro que você só faz isso porque percebe os efeitos que causa: a respiração acelerada, os olhos vidrados nos seus movimentos, a língua rosadinha lambendo os lábios em um gesto apreciativo. E se você provocar o suficiente, ainda consegue ganhar um suspiro e uma revirada de olhos, enquanto ele vira a cabeça em outra direção, tentando escapar da tentação. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que se espanta quando percebe que, apesar das provocações, você nem mesmo deu o seu primeiro beijo ainda. "Você só late, né, minha linda?" ele brinca, passando os longos dedos pela sua bochecha, acariciando a sua pele macia enquanto te encara com um sorriso zombador, "Conseguiu me enganar direitinho, agindo que nem uma cachorrinha". 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que não pode negar o quanto que ser o seu primeiro tudo o envaidece. Ele se sente O Cara sempre que te toca em um lugar novo e te deixa ofegante, ou quando os lábios alcançam uma parte inexplorada. Descobre o seu prazer com você, e te ensina exatamente porque você se sente assim. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que ama falar com você, e principalmente, te instruir. "Se toca aqui um pouquinho, meu amor," a mão dele encobre a sua enquanto a guia para o biquinho do seu peito, já todo enriçadinho de tanto roçar contra o peitoral masculino. "Gostoso, né?" e acaba gemendo junto de você, mesmo que a estimulação não esteja acontecendo no corpo dele. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que jura que pode explodir de tanto tesão sempre que te vê usando um conjuntinho de lingerie branca. Desde a primeira vez que vocês transaram, você tava usando uma calcinha de algodão branquinha e ele quase desmaiou de tanto desejo quando se ajoelhou na sua frente e viu o tecido manchadinho com a sua excitação. Te abocanhou daquele jeito mesmo, por cima da calcinha. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que, mesmo na crista do tesão, foi muito paciente e romântico durante a primeira vez de vocês. Além de tudo o que já falei, ele realmente se dedica para te deixar totalmente satisfeita e só goza depois de você ter gozado, pelo menos, umas três vezes – uma na boca, outra nos dedos e, por fim, no pau dele. Quer fazer tudo direito, deixar uma boa impressão e fazer com que você lembre da sua primeira vez como algo bom, e nada traumático. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que jamais vai te forçar a nada. Até quando você pede para experimentar alguma coisa nova, ele vai pedir pelo seu consentimento e sua confirmação a todo momento. "Tem certeza, linda? Se você mudar de ideia, não tem problema," ele te afirma, passando as mãos pelos seus cabelos para segurá-los em um rabo de cavalo, não querendo que os fios te atrapalhem. 

✮ㆍCowboy!Esteban que só consegue te puxar para o banheiro mais próximo quando você decide o provocar, roubando o chapéu dele e colocando-o sob a sua cabeça. "Dizem que, quando você pega o chapéu de um caubói, tem que cavalgar. É verdade, Kuku?", praticamente implorando pela melhor foda da sua vida.