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zuccnini · 6 months ago

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☆ Shops: Etsy │Ko-fi

☆ Tips: Ko-Fi - All my new art is posted here first, any tip, commission or shop orders grant you access to that art early!

☆ Commissions: Ko-fi │ Etsy [ Commissions are open on a revolving basis I tend to only accept 2 commissions at a time, when those are complete I re-open them ]

Mini Painting [Pokemon] │ Mini Sculptures │Sketch/Watercolor

Other places to find me:

Twitter(inactive) │ IG (Inactive) │ Blusky │ Cara

Craft Blog @zuccninis │ Sketch Blog @squashni

Miscellaneous info below (Mediums, Contact, etc):

Mediums: I'm a traditional artist and my main medium is watercolor.

I'm not being paid to promote any specific brand, if your looking to start out use what is accessible and affordable to you! With that said here is what I use:

Watercolor: Renesans Half pans, Holbein watercolor tubes, Winsor & Newton Professional, and Daniel Smith Extra Fine Watercolor.

Watercolor inks: Dr. Ph Martins Radiant Concentrated watercolor and Ecoline Liquid Water Colour (These are why some of my watercolor pieces are so vibrant.)

Brushes: 0.5, 1 & 2 Foldable travel watercolor brushes, and those waterfilled brushes.

Paper: Fabriano Hot Pressed Watercolor paper, I usually bind these into my own books.

Other Mediums: Microns, Prismacolor Color Pencils, Posca Wax pastels, Paint markers, Tombow water based markers, Ballpoint pens, Acryla Gouache, and Crayola crayons.

If you are looking to get into watercolor my best advice is to invest in actual watercolor paper. For watercolor the most important thing is the paper, nice paper can make even crayola look beautiful. 300 Gsm is ideal.

For Mini Paintings:

Liquitex Acrylic Gouache and Golden SoFlat Acrylics

Mini Canvases (3x3in)

Mini Easels (5in)

Clear Gesso

Small paintbrushes, brand does not matter I tend to buy whatever is tiny and is a reasonable price. I use Synthetic brushes.

It should be noted that I do scan in all my artwork, I use a epson perfection v370, I've had this scanner for years and it works pretty well, you just need to mess around with the settings. I edit all my art in Clip Studio Paint to remove any lint or dust and to fix up colors.

[Traditional art can be pretty expensive so I recommend if your looking to try any medium to buy a little bit at a time and buy things piecemeal.]

Other Info:

Business Contact: [email protected] [Don't send me unsolicited trash]

If you wish to contact me for other matters most of my DM's are closed, Best places to contact me is Etsy for order issues, or Ko-Fi. (Don't ask me for my Discord that's for friends only.)

If You see my art getting reposted/re-uploaded, report it, the only accounts I post on are included above. Anywhere else I'm being impersonated. Please don't support low quality repost accounts that steal art from actual artists. Many times these accounts screw over actual artists since they love to monetize and sell stolen work.

I schedule posts on here on all my accounts! Schedule is Mon-Wed-Friday on Zuccnini, Bonus posts/Reblogs are Tues-Thurs and Saturday-Sunday.

Dont tag my OC / Original Character art with "pokemon" or any other fandom tags, This is NOT a pokemon blog this is my illustration blog.

As for Fanart: People are free to draw and commission art of my OCs, feel free to tag me in it! I do ask no nsfw without my permission.

That's most of the info I can think to include for this.

Extra-Curricular art:

[18+ Obviously]

nsfw twitter │ NSFW Bluesky

#Text Heavy post #Pinned

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tofupixel · 5 months ago

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With your way of thinking, literally 90% of historical art is just plagiarizm because most major art movements are based around a style (an "artstyle" if you will). Is everyone who paints impressionism plagiarizing Claude Monet? Everyone who's doing cubism suddenly needs to pay royalties to Picasso? And what about realism? Make it make sense

you don’t understand my way of thinking at all obviously lol

and btw all those artists still had their own unique styles within the movement so your argument doesn’t even hold up

#qna #plagiarism #top minds of tumblr

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year ago

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the party | alexia putellas x reader

songfic based off of the song the party & the after party by the weeknd

warnings: cunnilingus, smut, minors dni 18+

With your Louis V. bag, tats on your arms

High heel shoes, make you six feet tall

Everybody wants you, you can have them all

It would be a crime to not look at her. Standing tall, her Louis Vuitton bag slung over her shoulder, her skimpy black dress that left nothing to the imagination, her tattoos that peaked over her shoulders and down her arms, her red backed Louboutin heels that made her look so irresistible and so fucking tall, accentuating her long legs and every single muscles and vein that ran along them. Your eyes were drawn to her from the other side of the room, completely pinned to the figure standing in front of you. She was insatiable, everybody in the room wanted her and yet her eyes were caught on your own, her long legs slowly making their way towards you and your seat at the bar.

In a club full of people, music and noise she silenced it all, made you feel like the both of you were the only people in the world, it was addictive, like a party drug. You almost choked on your sip of your martini as she approached you, and took a seat beside you on one of the barstools, ordering a drink from the bartender before addressing you.

“It’s rude to stare, tesoro.”

You blinked, your eyes darting to the glass in your hands.

“Lo siento.” I’m sorry

There was something about this woman that made you feel like you were on fire, and she was the only thing that could extinguish you.

“Don’t apologise, I don’t mind, what’s a girl like you doing in here anyways?”

The implication strung in her voice made you feel so shy, so small in a way you could never explain.

“Just looking for some fun I guess, how about you?”

You finally found the confidence to glance back up at her eyes, it was a rewarding sight, her deep hazel eyes locked onto your body, searching you up and down like you were a monet painting.

“Looking to have some fun on my night off.”

Her eyes were tantalising, dangerously dark and sinful, the hazel circling around her pupil into a tie dye mix of dark and light browns.

“How’s that going?”

It was a stupid question, but you felt like you were under a microscope, like a diamond under immense pressure and it was stressing you out, making you second guess everything. The mystery woman just seemed amused though.

“Could be going better, I’ve got a drink though, that’s one way to start it.”

She pulled her glass of what appeared to be whiskey on the rocks up, and you met her glass, clinking them together, a small smile gracing your lips.

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

The term of endearment sent shocks down your spine, little jolts of shivers that you didn’t even attempt to put a stop to.

“Y/n Y/l/n, how about you?”

Her eyes pierced your own from their position sitting just above your martini glass, peering over the rim at her figure, slowly taking in her figure that didn’t leave much of her body to your imagination, so much skin on show.

“Not important.”

Her voice was dismissive, and if you really cared you would push it, but you simply didn’t, so you just nodded your head.

“Y/n, that’s very pretty, suits the pretty face.”

You couldn’t help but blush a little bit at the flattery, lifting your martini glass to cover your mouth and the bright smile that you knew was spreading across your facial features.

“You’re a charmer, c’mon, give me a name to put to the face.”

She smirked at you, devilishly, like there was so much intention behind her eyes and mouth, intentions that you couldn’t even attempt to try and unearth.

“I think beautiful things should be appreciated, if you're really desperate you can call me Ale.”

You couldn’t help but feel the butterflies begin to crowd in your stomach, the heat rising up your neck and to your face at the outward compliments from your companion.

“You're very forward, most girls sitting at a bar would be a little bit intimidated.”

The woman’s eyes stayed pinned to your own, neither of you breaking the eye contact that made you feel so vulnerable and naked, like you were under a microscope in front of her.

“You’re not most girls though, are you?”

You bit your lip, her intentions were so clear and so blurred at the same time.

“You didn’t come and sit with me because I look like most girls.”

The woman snorted, setting her empty glass down on the bar.

“I’m going to the bathroom, the door with number 3 above it.”

Girl, I got your bag, I got it all

Hold your drink, baby, don't you fall

Be there in a minute, baby, just one call

You don't gotta ask me

Girl, pick up them shoes, I'll race your ass up all them stairs

She picked up her bag, her heels clicking under the floor beneath her as she strutted towards the stairs at the end of the bar, her hands reaching down to pull her frighteningly big heels so she could climb the stairs. You watched her ass and thighs move, it almost felt like she was putting a show on for you as she slowly progressed up the stairs.

You took a final swig from your glass, holding onto it and gripping down on the glass as you watched her finally ascend the stairs and out of your sight. You waited a minute or so, clutching onto your glass before setting it down and picking up your own belongings and making your way towards the stairs.

You didn’t take your time like the mystery woman, you climbed the staircase like it was a mountain you had to make it to the top of, completely relieved when you finally got to the top. It was a simple corridor in front of you, with numbered bathrooms, one to ten. You made your way down the hallway slowly, your eyes pinned to every door you passed until you made it to door number three. You felt like you were in a game show, or escape room, looking at the different doors and almost expecting something to pop out of one of them.

The surprise never came, so you reached for the door knob cautiously, testing the handle to see whether or not it was locked and quickly learning it was not. You took a deep breath, before twisting the door open and quickly shutting it behind you as you walked into the stall, making sure to lock the door behind you.

Before you even began to take in your surroundings the woman had pounced on you, her lips attaching to your own allowing you to taste the whiskey and spearmint on her tongue. It was a welcome flavour, overloading your taste buds which went into shock from the sudden contact and lust that was invading your system.

“Esta Bien?” Is this okay?

You nodded into her mouth, her tongue brushing against the roof of your mouth and pushing against the skin and tissue, exploring your mouth and lips with vigour.

“Si.” yes

The woman smirked into your mouth, continuing her bruising attack on your lips, but her hands falling to your hips and the exposed skin in between where your jeans separated from your cropped corset top. It was more like a bra, the only difference was the small chunk of material below the bra line. Her hands danced up and down your sides and you couldn’t help the little moan that left your lips as her hands brushed over the tops of your breasts and nipples.

“So desperate already, I could tell just how needy you were in that bar, desperate for some attention hm?”

You moaned openly into the woman’s mouth, your hips grinding upwards searching for some kind of contact or relief. The woman’s hand made its way to your waist though, pushing you back against the bathroom door.

“No, tomas lo que obtienes.” No, you take what you get

Her hand stayed pinned to your waist, her lips pressing against your own sinfully, moving rhythmically and nipping at your bottom lip as her teeth caught it in hers.

“Ale, please, need more.”

She was a woman that you knew absolutely nothing about, and normally that would make you uncomfortable, but for some reason it only spurred your sexual desire on, it was treacherous how horny your felt, your stomach and pussy clenching in tow as this woman’s lips moved down to your jawline, sucking on the skin.

“Is your pussy dripping for me, is it soaking through your panties?”

You nodded quickly against the older woman’s mouth, your head trapped by the grip that her lips and mouth had on your neck and chin.

You moaned openly when she dropped to her knees. Normally you’d be worried about the cleanliness of a club bathroom floor, but your whole brain was clouded with sex and that was enough for any kind of worry to leave you brain.

I understand, your body wants it

I know your thoughts, of you ‘bout it, ‘bout it

You’re a big girl, and it’s your world

And I’ma let you do it how you wanna

Girl, now ride wit it, ride wit it

I know you know, I know you wanna (ride) wit it

Don’t be shy wit it, I’ll supply wit it

I got you, girl, oh, I got it girl

You nodded at the woman when she looked up at you with an eyebrow cocked as her fingers looped into the belt of your jeans, silently asking for permission. When you nodded at her quickly she smirked, reaching for the clasp and unbelting it insanely quickly and letting it fall to the floor. Next her hands found the zipper of your jeans, tugging it down quickly and then popping the button before tugging the jeans down to join your belt. You stepped out of them and groaned a little bit as your eyes came into contact with the growing wet spot on the front of your panties, your arousal beginning to stick to the insides of your thighs.

“Oh bebita, is this all for me?”

You nodded your head once again, your head and back arching against the door as Ale’s fingers scooped underneath the elastic band of the thong you were wearing, snapping it twice against your hips, eliciting a positively filthy guttural moan that ranged from your core to your lips.

“God your so desperate, you going to ride my face, going to get off like a horny bitch in the heat and rut yourself against my face?”

It was pure filth falling from the older woman's lips as she tugged your panties down your thighs and onto the floor, her eyes latching onto your glistening lips that were directly in front of your face.

The feeling of her tongue darting out to meet your clit was ecstasy, pure pleasure as she dove into your folds, her tongue exploring the open sex right in front of her.

It was as her tongue found your open hole that you angled your hips directly above Ale, humping her face and beginning to grind your hips up and down her mouth and nose.

You half expected her to stop you, her dom persona seemingly controlling your every move, but she didn’t, so you continued to move your hips against her face, her tongue pushing in and out of your whole and your clit rubbing down hard and fast against her nose. The angle that it have you was magnificent and something that you’d never quite experienced. You pulled up for a second, out of fear that you were strangling the woman below you with your thighs, but you were quickly pulled down, your clit brushing down on the tip of her nose, it was fantastic and had you becoming a moaning mess and the coil in your stomach was so close to snapping, and then she refracted.

Her mouth moved from your lips and down to your thighs, sucking and biting down on the soft and milky skin, leaving bright purple marks as a reminder of exactly what she was doing to you. It was equally pleasurable, but not in the way you needed, not in the way you yearned.

“Ale, fuck, please, so close, please just fucking use my pussy, it’s all yours.”

She was so patient with your skin, gently sucking the marks in, your begging didn’t go unnoticed by her though, and once she finished her fourth love bite she nudged her tongue back to your opening, thrusting her flat pad in and out of your hole, generating completely sinful noises from your mouth. Your hands found Ale’s hair, fisting it in between your fingers and in your palms, tugging her up to meet your core and deepen her tongue’s thrusts.

You would have told her you were teetering on the edge, but you were too incoherent due to the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. It only took a few deep thrusts of her tongue and then a brush of your puffy clit against her nose for you to come undone, your whole body tightening and freezing against her warm mouth as you began to gush, your body grinding and your pussy gushing out and squirting all over her face as you spasmed on her lips.

Her hands pulled your thighs over her shoulders, stopping your legs from collapsing out from under you and leaving you to collapse on the floor. She guided you through your aftershocks with gentle kitten licks, sucking up any of the extra liquids that your pleasure cloud had produced.

Only when you’d come down from your high and you’d moved your legs off of her shoulders was when she moved off of her knees, revealing an absolutely soaked face, neck and top of her dress. You couldn’t help but snort a little bit at the appearance of her, a once composed and slightly terrifying woman now covered in your orgasm.

She stood up and before she could even try to say anything your lips were attached to her face, your tongue gently licking at your taste on her skin.

“That was fucking amazing.”

You moved your lips up to her nose and across her cheeks, lapping at any of the left over arousal on her delicate and clear skin.

“You didn’t tell me you were a squirter baby girl, look at my dress, all ruined in your slutty juices.”

You chuckled, a deep chuckle from your chest as you took in Ale, in all of her glory, completely fucked out and you hadn’t even touched her.

We can play all night

It just takes one night

To let me fuckin’ prove

This feelin’ I would give to you

“How about I make it up to you then?”

Your grin spread all the way up your cheeks, revealing your pearly whites to the woman.

“How about I take you back to mine and you can show me exactly how good you can be?”

Your head told you that it was a bad idea to go home with a woman that you’d only met a few minutes ago, but then the thought of going all nigh with this woman, who clearly knew what she was doing ran through your mind.

You began to take her in truly and it was then that something clicked in your brain, that you knew this woman, or you knew her face, and that was when all the puzzle pieces fell into place.

“Fuck me, your Alexia Putellas.”

The woman just smirked, her tongue dangling out between her teeth as she moved towards rhe sink, cleaning herself up a little bit but maintaining eye contact with you the whole time through the mirror.

“I will later, baby, don’t you worry, and it took you a little bit to figure that one out, now, my house? I promise I’ll give you everything you want, baby, all you have to do is ask.”

Ringtone on silent

And if she stops, then I might get violent

No call is worth stoppin’

So, momma, please, stop callin’

You reached down for you bag, and then your phone, recognising a string of texts from your roommate, worried about where you were and normally you would reply, but instead you turned your phone off, shoving it down into the bottom of your handbag and turning back to the Catalan woman, who was now standing directly in front of you, her arm stretched out as an offering.

If you had your wits about you, and not singularly sex on your mind you would have left her arm, left the renowned soccer player hanging, but then again, you definitely didn’t have your wits about you with your post orgasm brain.

So you took her arm, smiling brightly.

“Your house?”

Alexia smirked and nodded, leading you out of the bathroom and back downstairs and out of the club, a smile on both of your faces and the smell of sex radiating from both of you.

#daddy alexia putellas #alexia putellas smuttt #alexia putellas is mom #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso #woso community #marry me rn #wlw smut #woso smut #shameless smut #i love smut #smut

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solar-serpent · 8 months ago

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🌈Based on your talents, what business should you launch?💰🪙

Hello! I hope everyone is doing great. I'm going through a phase where I started wondering if I wanted to go back to work for an employer, or even if it was worthy after I've acknowledged all my potential and the fact no one would ever pay for the real price of my work. Aquarium era is hitting me harder, and I bet you too are feeling this call to reach financial freedom. We deserve it.

I want to contribute with your awakening.

Please take a deep breath, focus on what's in front of you and pick the picture you feel more attracted to.

Pile I → Pile II

Pile III → Pile IV

🌱Pile I🌱

OMG, pile 1, you are so kind and empathetic that people want to open up to you and ask for your opinion/advice on topics such as recent breakups, petty fights with mom, best friend betrayal drama and so. Even though that's not the main purpose for them going into your store/business. If you weren't an entrepreneur, you could've been an excellent therapist since your serene demeanor and polite speech would make others believe they are speaking to a good friend. You show you care for what you are being told by providing meaningful replies, and I could swear people go crazy over your attentive gaze. Some of you are natural, others are really good actors (no one is to be judged here). Your patience and warm personality real or not sells, people could purchase anything from your business if you are the one assisting, which can be a boomer if you are aiming for leaving someone else in charge and doing the counts behind the scenes, knowing you are one of the best sellers.

You could own a coffee store given how good you are at building spaces where people will gather and feel safe. Not only that, you can create beautiful settings that will make others immerse in a new world like the tea room from a dollhouse or within a Monet painting. You will succeed at making them distance themselves from real world's problems, thus they could be more open to speak about something that feels so far away. To be honest, I don't think everyone that chose this pile would identify with this business idea. For some serving, cooking and simping chai latte over the daily gossips feels like a waste of their potential. You guys are right, another part of group which's artsy in nature is more aligned with fashion, beauty, and textiles. But I swear you all have the potential to manifest large amounts of money in one sale. I didn't have to crack my head open thinking about what type of business could allow that as designing is your strong suit. You are a master when it comes to making colors, fabrics. and whatnot march. A small part of this group loves sweets and how food can make others happy, therefore you could settle down for having a bakery and specializing on wedding cakes. However, some of you are contemplating the idea of running a drift or wedding dress store. For the ones willing to work with the brides, I assure your business will do well. You have the patience of a Greek hero going against the gods' will, so I see you nailing sales that took plenty of your time and energy.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

🌱Pile 2🌱

I didn't know "giving a fuck" was a talent until I drew your cards, dear pile 2. You are strong people, you don't care if others start hating you for doing your job. Like 5% of the people who picked this pile dreamed with being a hitman and go ahead guys, you'll do great. Now, a large percent of you have questionable morals, allowing you to work in fields where you can turn corrupted and earn wealth as a politician, lawyer, or even a doctor. I know those are career choices, but the real business for you is owning agencies, institutes, clinics, and funeral homes. I am not even making the latter up. Some of you won't care about the taboo-ish nature of your work. You approach business with level-headedness and practicality, thus if it pays wells as any other job related to humans needs... dealing with the deads is easier than their family but you will still do the job or you will hire someone to do it eventually. Curiously, you are great at making people feel better. You aren't that talkative, but you know how to make others laugh with your silly jokes, pulling weird faces, providing them with food or water and much needed space.

Some of you are radicals and into activism. You have plenty of pent-up anger and aggressiveness inside of you that you will directed at facing opposing forces. You might start a charitable cause and talk people into volunteering. Yeah, I know it won't give you money or not so much, but hear me out! You could own an institute for people with special needs or another for learning languages. There's a high chance you might end up working with foreigners, what gave you that business idea when you thought on how to help them improve their lifestyle. Some of you could be interested in farming or owning a supermarket. You would feel inclined to hire immigrants regardless of the consequences. Actually, what are consequences to you? You don't fucking care. You see people suffering, you help them. There's no other logic in your brain.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

🌱Pile 3🌱

Ok, guys, I love how unbothered you are when it comes to your line of work and what people have to say about it. Unlike pile 2, you are not interested in top positions that might lead to corruption, dirty money and living a very intense life. You are the complete opposite, you are humble and like to contribute to the community. You have a great intuition and observation skills, so upon checking your town or the place you want to install your business in, you will know what spot in the market needs to be filled right away. You can also tell what the community's needs are; you are not afraid of getting your hands dirty, so you could feel inclined to run a fish or convenience store. I feel like you want to belong, so not only your business won't cover a necessity, but also will turn into something traditional, even "iconic" for your neighbourhood. Is a music store still a thing? I feel like a small part of this group longs to have one.

You have all what it takes to manifest a long-lasting business. You are highly talented at nurturing and you might see your business like a "baby". It's not just your money source, but something to care about and fight for. Some of you might be interested in running an esoteric shop, where people is going to get their cards read or purchase herbs, incienses, candles, and so on. Mostly, this pile wants to have an unique business or for it to be the sole provider of something. E.g, you might own the only bookstore with coffee services at town. Also, I believe some of you will settle for moving out to a town or the countryside and start a business over there.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

🌱Pile 4🌱

Hello, guys! This pile is slightly different from the rest since I feel like going straight to the point and sparing unnecessary details, but I might annoy you as I'm not leaving nothing unsaid. You are known for being busy and most times you seem to be in a hurry. You are always working on something, even in high school your friends knew you were too invested on your studies and earning money than hanging out with people your age. You probably like technology and travelling, so you could own a business like a travel agency (in your country or another), transport or event planning company. In all honesty, you might end up running all three of them. The term "workaholic" does not make justice to what you are, but I will call you a genius. You were born to steal the spotlight by your innovative style at the moment of giving birth to your ideas into the real world. You can mix all your interests together and create a new business that will leave people gawking, like an app who allows users to match with vacation spots instead of people or something like that?

Some of you will rather work with tourists, renting cars, boats, and properties so their basic needs are covered. I don't know how many of you are sporty but you are adamant about turning one of your interests/hobbies in your business. You might run your own indoor rock climbing centre. If you were to ask me for specifications on what's your talent, I would say you are a natural when it comes to businesses and you hold such control over your emotions. You put your sole focus on work, nothing can distract you from achieving your goals. Not even your family, so I can see you making up to your dear ones with expensive gifts or generous check after you missed an important family event again.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

#tarot readings #intuitive readings #psychic readings #tarot community #free tarot #love readings #free readings #pick a card #astrology #pick a pile #astro notes #Spotify

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wildemaven · 6 months ago

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sweet creature : dieter x poppy | commission

sweet creature series

"It's you isn't it— You bought this place?" The answer is clear as you look into his warm eyes. "I did." "Les Coquelicots? Monet's painting?" "Poppies." This is it. Your forever. With him. Always.

"I'm selling my home in West Hollywood- my realtor is getting it ready to be listed next week, hopefully moved out by the end of the month. So l can move home." It goes without saying that you know what he means, but you want to hear him say it out loud. "Do you mean here? You'll be moving here?" He nods his head in response. "What if this place gets too boring for a big movie star like yourself?" Biting your lip with a hint of a smile. "Poppy- wherever I go, you bring me home."

commissioned by @kenobiwanx literally speechless! The way I envisioned this entire scene as I was writing it, this is exactly how it was. the talent this entire fandom holds is incredible and I’m so lucky to be able to be among those who offer their own talents to bring these silly stories we create to life. I cried when I got the rough sketch, and now I am bawling with this finished piece! I’m going to stare at it forever and ever!! Thank you!!!

note: Poppy is reader’s nickname and throughout the series is a blank slate/non descriptive reader insert. This commission was solely based on my personal face claim for Poppy, but in no way portrays her appearance as an absolute.

#dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #sweet creature series #pedro pascal

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midnightarcheress · 9 months ago

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Simon takes you to the museum.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: implied ptsd. 4 | gold rush masterlist.

the timid yellows creeping up the tree leaves announce the beginning of autumn, crisp air filling their lungs as they walk through the Tuileries Garden. Simon tries his best to act calm, focusing on how you make your way on the footpath around the octagonal lake, but the city’s sounds and the bustling crowd in the park keep him on edge, fingers rhythmically touching the dense fabric of his jeans for a faint sense of safety in the present.

despite his anxiety levels spiking, he still manages to appreciate the view. the remaining flowers from warmer days paint the grass with vivid colours and, on the horizon, he catches a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower on the other side of the river. the sun shines brightly in the sky, almost casting a golden halo over your head, the tender heat warming his brittle heart in a brief moment of peace.

“the museum is that way,” you look back at him, pointing to your left. ever since Daniel complied with your request for time off, you’ve been researching the perfect spot to spend your free afternoon, ultimately landing on the Orangery Museum. at least a museum is supposed to be a quiet place, Simon thinks.

“did you know that this building was actually a greenhouse?” you ask, walking through the entrance, “it was created to store the citrus trees from the garden, that’s why this side has so many windows.” your head tilts to the riverside facade and he silently hums, acknowledging you.

his lips involuntarily curve at your enthusiasm. the two of you don’t talk much on the daily, but it was endearing to see how happy you were for being surrounded by art, and he didn’t mind hearing you babble about the paintings. or about anything, honestly. the sound of your voice was soothing, pacifying the nerves that had been eating his insides since he stepped out of bed.

“oh, those are my favourite!” you tug on his forearm, pulling him into an oval room with huge panels, the tiny inscriptions on the side reading ‘Claude Monet’, “those are water lilies, y’know, the flower? he did two-hundred-and-something paintings based on a pond in his property, can you imagine that?”

“they’re pretty,” he mumbles, observing the thin brushstrokes. art is far from his strong suit, but he liked how the paintings captured the fickles of light and how they lacked the usual restrained aspect seen in other pieces – they seemed relaxed, floaty, free. so different from your life. maybe that’s why you loved it so much.

you drag him through the whole exhibit, explaining little details of the museum, the garden, the techniques, and he listens closely, his attention never leaving your mouth, completely entranced by your words. he didn’t feel the weight of the duty nor the need to protect you there, it was a different world. your own little bubble, and you allowed him inside.

his hand brushes on your shoulder while exiting the building, guiding you through the door. he’s not keen on being outside again, sirens already buzzing in his brain with the idea of potential threats lurking in the shadows.

trying not to let the perpetual concern flood his mind, he clears his throat and sparks up conversation, ignoring the rules pairing over his head. no talking, no touching. “so, how did you learn so much about... all that?” he gestures back to the museum.

“oh, uhm, i used to paint,” you start, hiding the smile sneaking up your lips at his unexpected interest, “took a course in art history too.”

his eyebrows raise. “used to?”

“yeah, when i had more time to myself,” he notices your sigh, studying the sudden solemn expression that outlines your face. your beautiful face, “but i wasn’t very good at it.” you chuckle, downsizing your abilities, and he snorts, not fully believing you. it’s the first time you’ve seen him showing any sort of emotion besides indifference, and he prides himself on the surprise gracing your features.

it was nice, walking with you. not behind you. did he enjoy the view? yes, but this – him by your side, arms swinging together, matching steps – was real. genuine. it almost felt like a date, not that he would ever dare to say it out loud. everything was perfect.

until it wasn’t.

it happened so fast. a loud blast on the street made Simon wrap an arm around your waist and pull you to the nearest alley, one hand firmly pressing you against his chest and another holding your head, broad shoulders covering your body as the intense blood pump on his ears muffle the deafening ringing rattle. he stays in the position for a while, blown-out pupils frantically darting around and searching for any indication of danger.

he takes a deep breath and his head dips down to you. for a minute, the only thing he sees is the gash on your forehead and your bleeding eye. you’re paralysed, partially because your brain is still catching up on what’s going on, and partially because his tight grip doesn’t admit any movement.

“Ghost? what’s wrong?” the scared tone of your whisper readjusts his vision to what really is in front of him – you. safe, without a single scratch, tucked in his arms with a strength he hadn’t used to this extent in a long time. and he feels bad, pathetic even, because nothing happened. the blaring sound was a car crash in the avenue, not a grenade destroying everything in sight.

“it’s nothing” he pulls back, averting your eyes like the plague, “i'm sorry.” stupid.

you frown, overlooking his avoidance with utter sympathy, “are you alright?” he grunts, unintelligibly, reverting to his cold stance and nodding. you don’t buy his half-answer, but decide that it’s better not to pry.

he knew it was coming, the uneasiness brewing in his gut was only waiting for the right trigger to crawl up his oesophagus and spill all over you.

the rest of the walk is quiet, with him returning to his position a few steps back. never should’ve left. you sneak glances at him, checking, but his gaze seems too far gone. next thing he knows, you’re both on the jet, Daniel snoring in the front seat, him looking out the window, lost in thought. of course i'd fuck up.

he barely hears when you approach him, trembling fingers handing him a card. the card. you’re trusting him. he glares at you for a second, hazel irises shifting between your spooked appearance and the paper. ‘don’t like you travelling without me, darling. i’ll be waiting for my souvenir – your prince.’

i've never been to france lol. and yeah i had a monet phase when I was fifteen.

little fun fact - the painting in the fic masterlist is part of his water lilies series.

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ninadove · 1 month ago

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Hey there! I was just wondering, do you have any headcanons for Kagami?

DO I EVER. Thank you for asking! ❤️🐉

I stole this one from @paracosmicat, but her favourite candy would be peach rings. They mentioned it in one of our fics an eternity ago and it stuck! This girl deserves all the treats… Give her all the treats…

Her perfume smells of orange blossom. This is mainly based on the fact that orange is her André-assigned ice cream flavour.

In addition to Toulouse-Lautrec (mentioned in Lies I believe), she would like Monet’s work: same period, adjacent genres, and he drew a lot of inspiration from Japanese prints which she would be familiar with. There is a certain rebellion at the core of impressionism she would love, without fully understanding why initially.

Felix has a complicated relationship with horses, but she loves them. They’re so big and powerful and a little bit scary and she looks at them with a thousand stars in her eyes.

She paints Felix! All the time! He will pose for her of course, but sometimes she will just sketch him while he’s still asleep next to her… Generally speaking, they were both taught to rise very early and would need to unlearn that. Many of their mornings would be spent actively making an effort to stay in bed and chatting about life.

On that note — she is the incarnation of the “I’m going to get a good grade in therapy” meme. Went to Marinette after S5 and specifically asked her to teach her sewing and arts and crafts and whatever so she could unlearn perfectionism… except she somehow managed to be a perfectionist about that (“Look at this plushie I made, Marinette. Its proportions are truly mediocre. This is great. I am excellent at accepting mediocrity.”).

Freckles!!! Freckles everywhere!!! It’s one of my favourite features about her and I want them to also decorate her arms and shoulders and back.

Her favourite flowers are actually tulips! It’s something she gets to figure out once she’s freed from the very strict conception of feminity her mother forced on her.

She calls Felix “Duvet” 🥹💜🦚

She’s little Louis Dupain-Cheng’s favourite aunt!

Not really a headcanon per say, but apart from the Dragon Miraculous, I would love to see her with the Peacock, the Butterfly and especially the Cat. The overpowering nature of her emotions is such a huge part of her character — it would make for great storylines!

Speaking of her Miraculous — I’d love to see Ryuko lean even more into the asymmetrical design she’s got going on. Maybe get a huge jacket that would disrupt her very sleek silhouette and signify how much she’s grown into her own person.

And probably more I’m not thinking about right now! A lot of them arise during the writing process, so the list is bound to grow!

#I love my little dragon ❤️🐉#miraculous ladybug #kagami tsurugi #felix graham de vanily #feligami #random ramblings #tumblr asks

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ninzied · 7 months ago

Text

weeds

based on the prompt: a kiss on a falling tear. brownstone/bonus chapter era. 600 word ficlet.

Henry has been surrounded by flowers all his life.

Flowers in every hallway and room. Atop every table and flanking every door that led to yet more hallways, yet more rooms. Flowers that were fussed over, flowers that were arranged to perfection despite being replaced at least once a day. Flowers in the palace gardens where Henry used to escape as a child, wishing the mazes could swallow him whole.

Flowers at the funeral.

Flowers at the royal wedding, when his life jump-started again.

And now, flowers in the brownstone that Alex has just moved into with him. They’re daisies in an assortment of colors. Nothing extraordinary, though they would’ve turned heads at the palace for that very reason alone. Henry’s pretty sure they’re classified as weeds, technically speaking.

He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

That is, apart from the man who’s just brought them home on a whim, who’s now calling to Henry over his shoulder, “Babe, do you think these would look good in a mug?”

Henry thinks he would love them anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever he can. This little life he’s building with Alex is the brightest, fullest, most incredible thing, and he will not take a single bit of it for granted.

They go to the MoMA. It’s the first touristy thing that they’ve done since moving in together. And, Henry realizes, watching Alex tear through his wardrobe looking for the perfect cover, it’s one of the first museums he’ll have been to during normal daylight hours.

Alex gleefully poses Henry in all the various hats that he owns. He makes a grave miscalculation when it comes to his black Stetson, which delays their leaving the house by many, many hours. Alex finally comes to the breathless conclusion that it would draw too much attention if Henry were to wear it outside.

(“Mm,” says Henry, still catching his breath back himself. “You can’t possibly mean from you, of course.”

“Definitely not,” Alex agrees, already moving to kiss him again.)

They walk hand-in-hand through the museum sometime even later, in baseball caps and soft t-shirts, and Henry can’t believe this gets to be his life now. They let themselves be jostled along with the crowds, Angus up ahead of them. He needn’t be; no one so much as looks at them twice.

Eventually, they wander their way up to the fifth level. They step into a room where Henry finds himself once again surrounded by flowers.

The largest painting occupies three panels, spanning a significant length of the room. Gran has taken great pride in the royal collection over the years, pieces the family could access in private whenever they so pleased. But there’s something about standing here, with Alex. Just two people, being in love while looking at art. Like it’s something extraordinary, this beautifully ordinary thing they can do.

“Huh,” Alex murmurs, reading the placard. “Took him twelve years to paint this.” He squeezes Henry’s hand, then adds almost offhandedly: “I think that’s about how long it took after seeing you in J14 for the first time. Getting to finally kiss you, I mean.”

Henry looks at Alex with a feeling much too big for words. He smiles, his chest aching with it. The feeling wells up, touching the edges of his vision until he sees in watercolor. “Darling,” he says. “Are you comparing our love story to a Monet?”

“Please.” Alex looks affronted. “This guy’s got nothing on us.”

It’s blasphemous, surely. But as Alex leans in, kissing away a tear on his cheek, Henry thinks he’s secretly rather inclined to agree.

also on ao3.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #iuserzoe #usernuria #userveronika #usersteen #chrissiewatts #carrythesky #sheisraging #lookstevie #sometimes i badger zoë into giving me fic ideas

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