#full circle venice

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Lipstick Stains in Venice - Drew Starkey Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Drew X Girlfriend!Reader

unedited and quick 💋 this occurs between the premiere and the afterparty

600 words

oral (male receiving) pure smut

“How much time do we have?”

“Before the afterparty, princess? Not a lot… What are you thinking?” Drew chuckles dreamily.

“I just wanna suck your cock. That’s all,” you smile innocently, your words contradicting your tone. He chuckles as he steps a little closer, looking down at you with a smirk. You brush your fingers against his bulge, already growing hard in his slacks. Drew tugs at the satin bow at your waist, your robe slipping off your shoulders onto the floor. He looks down at you hungrily as you stand before him in your pretty little bra and panty set. Drew leans down for a kiss, nose nuzzling against yours.

“Oh yeah? That’s what you want?” The blonde hums against your lips.

“Wanna show you how proud I am.”

”Fuck, baby. Please.” He whispers between little kisses. Drew wraps his big arms around you tighter, kissing you deeply. His tongue slips between your lips, swirling with yours. You claim his lips one last time, moving to his jaw, a little further to his neck, leaving a trail of lipstick in your wake. Your boyfriend’s beautiful blue eyes follow the markings, lowering with you, eyeing you as you drop to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

Slipping your fingers under the straps of your bra you slide them off your shoulders, gazing at the beautiful man towering above you. You drift your hands up to your cleavage, delicately drawing them over the top. Reaching your nipples you trace small circles over the fabric, teasing the man further. ”So fucking hot,“ he mumbles, you, answering with a playful laugh. Taking his cock in your hand you pump slowly, your other hand massaging your breast.

“You looked so good today, baby,” you breathe as you slide your fingers under the lace of your bra slowly, toying with your nipple. Drew’s mesmerized, watching you play with the both of you at the same time. His eyes float slowly between the two of you. “You know how many girls want you, Drew?”

“I don't care about them, baby. You know that,” he mutters as he shuts his eyes, focused more on your touch that then words coming from your lips. “Sweetheart. Oh my god,” he moans.

“They can say what they want. You're mine-”

“I’m yours, babygirl. M’Fuck. I’m yours. N’you’re all mine,” he smiles as he throws his head back.

“I am,” you sigh as your hand retreats, moving to your back, unclasping your bra with a single hand. The lacey material falls to his feet, pulling his full focus to you again. You continue to touch your chest as you stroke his cock, pressing your cleavage together, twisting your nipple. His breathing increases with each passing second as he watches you. “This cock is mine too,” you whisper against his hard flesh, making goosebumps flare across his tanned skin.

“My cock is all yours, baby. Shittt… N’this mouth is mine.” His breath catches in his chest as you brush your tongue from side to side on his tip, Drew, looking at you through half-lidded eyes, trying his best to keep them open.

“All yours, daddy.”

“Ugh, that's it,” he breathes as you swirl your tongue around his tip collecting his precum, showing him the mess before slapping his fat cock against your lips. “Mine. Holy shit...” A deep moan rumbles in Drew’s chest as you wrap your lips around his dick, taking him to the back of your throat, drawing off slowly, squeezing your lips, leaving little lipstick rings behind. “Just beautiful, honey,” he soughs, eyeing the mess. “Been thinkin’ about that for hours. So fuckin’ pretty f’me.”

You bob back and forth slowly and sloppily, using your hand to stroke where your mouth can’t reach. Your other hand gropes his skin, tracing up his body. Hollowing your cheeks, causes his abs to flex under your hand as you increase your suction. You can tell he’s about to lose control. Pulling off slowly you wrap your fingers around his cock. You stroke quick, breasts bouncing with each thrust of the hand. “Fuck, y/n. You look so damn good. S-Shit. I’m gonna cum,” he whines.

“Yeah?” You groan. “You gonna cum for me, Drew?”

“Mhmm… Mmm. Fuckkk…” You return your lips to his cock, throating him like only you can, gagging when you take as much of him as you can get. Drew’s brows pinch together, thighs clenching. You feel his cock swell and twitch on your tongue. “Ugh… Shit,” He moans, huskily. You pull him out of your mouth fast, pumping rapidly. Drew’s mouth falls open, eyes rolling back.

He cums on your tits, ropes of pearlescent white landing on your breasts. He watches carefully as you milk the last bits of pleasure from him. He lets out a satisfied sigh, a wide smile settles on his lips as he tilts his head up to the ceiling again. “God, I fucking love you,” he groans.

“I love you too, baby.”

Drew helps you to your feet. His lips, pressing against yours, kissing you breathlessly. “M’gonna fuck you all night when we get back here. I promise,” he hums, the satisfaction dripping in his tone. Drew brushes your hair off your face, cupping your cheeks, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips. “On the other hand. Maybe we can sneak into the bathroom for somethin’ fast. Come back here and really take our time later. Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” you whisper, lips ghosting over the top of his. “Sounds perfect.” He reaches for his black button-down, lipstick marks still littered on his chest and abs. His cock still a tad bit messy as well. “Aren’t you gonna clean up,” you giggle breathily as you brush his toned skin with your manicured finger, thumbing over a kiss mark.

“These?” He asks, as he follows the stains with a smile. “Not a chance.”

Tags @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @unrealmirrorball @starkeysprincess @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @oxpogues4lifexo @gri959 @sleepiibunniiii @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @daryldixon83

[patrickelvinart]

Early morning solitude

black sharpie and water color

Westwood 1986

Let me try to explain myself.

When I was a young man I loved illustration.

Perhaps the two illustrators who had the greatest influence on me were Aubrey Beardsley and Jean Giraud aka Moebius. Both artist drew with a fine line and I tried to emulate that.

Here's an old drawing of mine.

pencil drawing

Venice CA 1978

So back then I saw myself as an illustrator.

Then sometime around 1980 I was introduced to Abstract Expressionism and I had an epiphany...

Could I approach Abstract Expressionism with an illustrator's line?

A new world opened up to me and I started having fun with my drawing.

And then, for about 35 years I never drew an identifiable object.

No joke.

Still Life

black sharpie

Westwood 1985

doodles at work

blue sharpie on paper

Duarte CA 1996

Time never began

black sharpie on bond paper

San Francisco 2003

Dan's drawing

black sharpie

Rosemead 2011

i did a lot of these drawings. And I really enjoyed making them. For over thirty years I completely liberated myself from the rigors of drawing something that had to look like something. And I loved it. But then...

Sometime around 2015 I returned to illustration. Why? I'll be honest with you, I started to miss it.

Call it full circle but that's where I'm at now.

I still treasure my line though.

little boxes

black sharpie on paper

Los Angeles 2019

Thank you Aubrey and Jean.

Aubrey Beardsley

Jean Giraud aka Moebius

[thedisabilitybookarchive]

Disability in Non-Fiction #1: Plain Text Edition

A plain text version of this post. Here you will find detailed image descriptions and easier-to-read versions of each book summary. If you think that any image descriptions/summaries need to be updated, please let me know!

================================================

‘How to Live Free in a Dangerous World’- Lawson, Shayla

[ID: A book cover. The background is a pale orange colour. In the centre, a large photograph of a person with brown skin standing in front a desert under a blue sky. They have short braided brown hair swept over their left eye, and have their arms crossed over their chest, with one hand resting on the side of their face. The title “How to Live Free in a Dangerous World” is around them in large orange writing that covers the length of the photo. The subtitle “A Decolonial Memoir” is to the right their head in very small white writing. The author’s name “Shayla Lawson” is below the title, at the bottom of the photograph, in smaller yellow writing. Black text at the bottom of the cover reads, under the author’s name, reads “author of ‘this is major’, a national book critics circle award finalist”. /end]

Summary:

Poet and journalist Shayla Lawson follows their National Book Critics Circle finalist This Is Major with these daring and exquisitely crafted essays, where Lawson journeys across the globe, finds beauty in tumultuous times, and powerfully disrupts the constraints of race, gender, and disability.

With their signature prose, at turns bold, muscular, and luminous, Shayla Lawson travels the world to explore deeper meanings held within love, time, and the self.

Through encounters with a gorgeous gondolier in Venice, an ex-husband in the Netherlands, and a lost love on New Year’s Eve in Mexico City, Lawson’s travels bring unexpected wisdom about life in and out of love. They learn the strength of friendships and the dangers of beauty during a narrow escape in Egypt. They examine Blackness in post-dictatorship Zimbabwe, then take us on a secretive tour of Black freedom movements in Portugal.

Through a deeply insightful journey, Lawson leads readers from a castle in France to a hula hoop competition in Jamaica to a traditional theater in Tokyo to a Prince concert in Minnesota and, finally, to finding liberation on a beach in Bermuda, exploring each location—and their deepest emotions—to the fullest. In the end, they discover how the trials of marriage, grief, and missed connections can lead to self-transformation and unimagined new freedoms.

‘Being Seen’- Sjunneson, Elsa

[ID: A book cover. It is a dark black with faint, grey, writing over it. The writing, from top to bottom, reads: “Elsa Sjunneson” “Being Seen” “One Deafblind Woman’s Fight to End Ableism” All in capitals. The “I” in “Being Seen” is designed to look like an opening of sorts, with a ray of light coming through. /end]

Summary:

A deafblind writer and professor explores how the misrepresentation of disability in books, movies, and TV harms both the disabled community and everyone else.

As a deafblind woman with partial vision in one eye and bilateral hearing aids, Elsa Sjunneson lives at the crossroads of blindness and sight, hearing and deafness—much to the confusion of the world around her. While she cannot see well enough to operate without a guide dog or cane, she can see enough to know when someone is reacting to the visible signs of her blindness and can hear when they’re whispering behind her back. And she certainly knows how wrong our one-size-fits-all definitions of disability can be.

As a media studies professor, she’s also seen the full range of blind and deaf portrayals on film, and here she deconstructs their impact, following common tropes through horror, romance, and everything in between. Part memoir, part cultural criticism, part history of the deafblind experience, Being Seen explores how our cultural concept of disability is more myth than fact, and the damage it does to us all.

‘Disability Pride’- Mattlin, Ben

[ID: A book cover. The background is made of simple, colourful red, cream, white, yellow and teal shapes. Large text reads, from top to bottom: “Disability Pride” in large, black capitals, “Dispatches from a Post-ADA World”in smaller, black capitals, “Ben Mattlin”, in slightly bigger red capitals. /end]

Summary:

An eye-opening portrait of the diverse disability community as it is today and how attitudes, activism, and representation have evolved since the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).

In Disability Pride, disabled journalist Ben Mattlin weaves together interviews and reportage to introduce a cavalcade of individuals, ideas, and events in engaging, fast-paced prose. He traces the generation that came of age after the ADA reshaped America, and how it is influencing the future. He documents how autistic self-advocacy and the neurodiversity movement upended views of those whose brains work differently. He lifts the veil on a thriving disability culture—from social media to high fashion, Hollywood to Broadway—showing how the politics of beauty for those with marginalized body types and facial features is sparking widespread change.

He also explores the movement’s shortcomings, particularly the erasure of nonwhite and LGBTQIA+ people that helped give rise to Disability Justice. He delves into systemic ableism in health care, the right-to-die movement, institutionalization, and the scourge of subminimum-wage labor that some call legalized slavery. And he finds glimmers of hope in how disabled people never give up their fight for parity and fair play.

Beautifully written, without anger or pity, Disability Pride is a revealing account of an often misunderstood movement and identity, an inclusive reexamination of society’s treatment of those it deems different.

‘Crip Kinship’- Kafai, Shayda

[ID: A book cover. The background is light blue, with colourful pictures of butterflies, flowers and a house setting featured in the centre. Lower right centre of the image, a black figure in a long sleeved, billowing dress, holding a curved black walking stick in their right hand. Behind them, a drawing of a room with a table, chair, pink wall with a window, and a blank wall with an orange picture. Text on the book cover, from top to bottom, reads: The title “Crip Kinship” in large black font at the top of the image, The subtitle “The Disability Justice & Art Activism of Sins Invalid” in smaller black capitals, in the upper right corner of the image, The authors name “Shayda Kafai” in medium black capitals in the lower right of the image, partially overlapping the figure in the dress. /end]

Summary:

The remarkable story of Sins Invalid, a performance project that centres queer disability justice.

In recent years, disability activism has come into its own as a vital and necessary means to acknowledge the power and resilience of the disabled community, and to call out ableist culture wherever it appears.

Crip Kinship explores the art activism of Sins Invalid, a San Francisco Bay Area-based performance project, and its radical imaginings of what disabled, queer, trans, and gender-nonconforming bodyminds of colour can do: how they can rewrite oppression, and how they can gift us with transformational lessons for our collective survival.

Grounded in the disability justice framework, Crip Kinship investigates the revolutionary survival teachings that disabled, queer of colour community offers to all our bodyminds. From their focus on crip beauty and sexuality to manifesting digital kinship networks and crip-centric liberated zones, Sins Invalid empowers and moves us toward generating our collective liberation from our bodyminds outward.

‘Sounds Like Home’- Wright, Mary Herring

[ID: A book cover. The background is yellow. A black and white photograph in the centre shows two young black children and a dog in front of a car. The title “Sounds Like Home” is at the tope in large, curvy black writing. The subtitle “Growing Up Black and Deaf in the South” is written in small orange writing, on three black bars on the right side of the cover. The author’s name “Mary Herring Wright” is written in curvy black writing, slightly smaller than the title, at the bottom of the cover. /end]

Summary:

Mary Herring Wright’s memoir adds an important dimension to the current literature in that it is a story by and about an African American deaf child. The author recounts her experiences growing up as a deaf person in Iron Mine, North Carolina, from the 1920s through the 1940s. Her story is unique and historically significant because it provides valuable descriptive information about the faculty and staff of the North Carolina school for Black deaf and blind students from the perspective of a student as well as a student teacher. In addition, this engrossing narrative contains details about the curriculum, which included a week-long Black History celebration where students learned about important Blacks such as Madame Walker, Paul Laurence Dunbar, and George Washington Carver. It also describes the physical facilities as well as the changes in those facilities over the years. In addition, Sounds Like Home occurs over a period of time that covers two major events in American history, the Depression and World War II.

Wright’s account is one of enduring faith, perseverance, and optimism. Her keen observations will serve as a source of inspiration for others who are challenged in their own ways by life’s obstacles.

‘The Right to Maim’- Puar, Jasbir K.

[ID: A book cover. The background is white. A painting stretches from the bottom of the cover to bottom of top quarter. In the upper quarter of the cover, text reads: The author’s name “Jasbir K. Puar” is at the top in black writing. The title “The Right to Maim” is immediately below this in red caps. The subtitle “Debility, Capacity, Disability” is immediately below this in smaller, yellow caps. The painting is immediately below this. The background is a dark cream. It appears to show a humanoid figure climbing a mound. Two other figures appear to be falling off the mound. There are splashes of red paint around the mound and the figure on it. /end]

Summary:

In The Right to Maim Jasbir K. Puar brings her pathbreaking work on the liberal state, sexuality, and biopolitics to bear on our understanding of disability. Drawing on a stunning array of theoretical and methodological frameworks, Puar uses the concept of “debility”—bodily injury and social exclusion brought on by economic and political factors—to disrupt the category of disability. She shows how debility, disability, and capacity together constitute an assemblage that states use to control populations. Puar’s analysis culminates in an interrogation of Israel’s policies toward Palestine, in which she outlines how Israel brings Palestinians into biopolitical being by designating them available for injury. Supplementing its right to kill with what Puar calls the right to maim, the Israeli state relies on liberal frameworks of disability to obscure and enable the mass debilitation of Palestinian bodies. Tracing disability’s interaction with debility and capacity, Puar offers a brilliant rethinking of Foucauldian biopolitics while showing how disability functions at the intersection of imperialism and racialized capital.

‘Uncomfortable Labels’- Dale, Laura Kate

[ID: A book cover. The background is a close photograph of some kind of knitted garment, and its label. The garment is blue. The label is in the centre. Text on the label reads: The title “Uncomfortable Labels” in large black caps The subtitle “My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman” in smaller black caps, lower left of this The author’s name “Laura Kate Dale” at the bottom of the label in black writing. A smaller label attached to the bottom has a single, black capitalised “M” written on it. /end]

Summary:

“So while the assumption when I was born was that I was or would grow up to be a neurotypical heterosexual boy, that whole idea didn’t really pan out long term.”

In this candid, first-of-its-kind memoir, Laura Kate Dale recounts what life is like growing up as a gay trans woman on the autism spectrum. From struggling with sensory processing, managing socially demanding situations and learning social cues and feminine presentation, through to coming out as trans during an autistic meltdown, Laura draws on her personal experiences from life prior to transition and diagnosis, and moving on to the years of self-discovery, to give a unique insight into the nuances of sexuality, gender and autism, and how they intersect.

Charting the ups and downs of being autistic and on the LGBT spectrum with searing honesty and humour, this is an empowering, life-affirming read for anyone who’s felt they don’t fit in.

'Brilliant Imperfections'- Clare, Eli

[ID: A book cover. A photograph of stones can be seen. Over it, a dark box stretching from left to right at the top of the image. Text in the box reads: “Brilliant Imperfection”, in large caps. “Brilliant” is in green, “Imperfection is in white. “Grappling With Cure”, in small, green caps. “Eli Clare”, in white caps. /end]

Summary:

In Brilliant Imperfection Eli Clare uses memoir, history, and critical analysis to explore cure—the deeply held belief that body-minds considered broken need to be fixed.

Cure serves many purposes. It saves lives, manipulates lives, and prioritizes some lives over others. It provides comfort, makes profits, justifies violence, and promises resolution to body-mind loss. Clare grapples with this knot of contradictions, maintaining that neither an anti-cure politics nor a pro-cure worldview can account for the messy, complex relationships we have with our body-minds.

The stories he tells range widely, stretching from disability stereotypes to weight loss surgery, gender transition to skin lightening creams. At each turn, Clare weaves race, disability, sexuality, class, and gender together, insisting on the nonnegotiable value of body-mind difference. Into this mix, he adds environmental politics, thinking about ecosystem loss and restoration as a way of delving more deeply into cure.

Ultimately Brilliant Imperfection reveals cure to be an ideology grounded in the twin notions of normal and natural, slippery and powerful, necessary and damaging all at the same time.

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A short list of 8 non-fiction books featuring and/or discussing disability!

I don't highlight the non-fiction section of the archive enough, so I think this is a perfect opportunity.

A plain text version of this post exists here, featuring more detailed image descriptions of each book cover and easier-to-read versions of every summary.

Books on this list:

‘How to Live Free in a Dangerous World’- Lawson, Shayla

‘Being Seen’- Sjunneson, Elsa

‘Disability Pride’- Mattlin, Ben

‘Crip Kinship’- Kafai, Shayda

‘Sounds Like Home’- Wright, Mary Herring

‘The Right to Maim’- Puar, Jasbir K.

‘Uncomfortable Labels’- Dale, Laura Kate

'Brilliant Imperfections'- Clare, Eli

All of these books and more can be found on the Disability Book Archive.

Happy Disability Pride Month!

[sashi-ya]

a valentine's mini story 𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬 Kuchiki Byakuya x F! Reader

🩰 tw: sfw. beware of spoilers, if you haven't read tybw and don't wish to be spoiled, please do not read. ShunUki mentioned. I suggest you read it with this song. Happy Valentines! 💕 🦢 wc: 579

Slowly dancing, like drifting away with your feet on top of his. His hand, so delicate, grazes your palm and squeezes it tightly. Everything feel so light, so weightless, like being guided by an angel to heaven.

The sharp side of his mandible, his eyes closed with long eyelashes casting little shadows on porcelain cheeks…

So, this is love?

Yes, and it’s always been. There, when his blade protected you. There, when he scolded you for putting yourself at risk. And also, there, and now, on a terrace of Venice. Looking right at the Bridge of Sighs, dancing the night away to the soft melody of Bella Notte.  

“Byakuya-sama, thank you for this night” you murmur, placing your ear on his chest. Your cheek receives the expensive brush of a pure silk tie; never once you’ve seen his hair down, completely free from his noble garments.

“It wasn’t me, but I promise this won’t be the last… this is just the start” he answers back, for the first time with a trembling voice full of, perhaps, shyness.

Traveling to Venice had been a wonderful idea that none of you had planned. In fact, wearing Gigai for so many hours felt -almost- like torture. Why two creatures from other dimension wander the world of the living as humans?

“This is a mission, a special mission” the head captain of the Gotei 13 assured. The tickets were bought. The hotel, booked.

“Kyoraku Taicho, but this… it says your and Jushiro’s name on it” you sighed, right next to a much more mature -and now captain- Rukia.

The head captain painfully smiled. Valentine’s after the war with the Quincy had changed. Jushiro… he couldn’t make it.

“Take Nii-sama! He loves Venice!” Rukia intercepted, to somehow dissipate the gloomy cloud of sadness that had fallen upon Shunsui’s office.

You stayed silent… was it that noticeable?

“He didn’t tell me, we saw you with Renji…” she continued, giggling and tracing circles over her incipient pregnant belly...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ...

Your eyes blur, as sprouting wetness pools in your lower eyelids. Never, have you ever, been treated this way; the things you thought only happened in the movies were now happening to you.

The night ahead, barely starting, takes over the sky of orangey tints. The canal right by your room seemed as peaceful as ever, and the little Gondolas slide their romantic ways through it. As if Venice knew, today, the humid fog didn’t appear.  

“I’m so in love with you, Byakuya-sama” you murmured, still pressing your cheek against his chest. His heart, raising the beat of it, complimented yours in such exquisite way… in such peaceful but intense way.

But, even if his heart wouldn’t stop beating faster and faster, Byakuya couldn’t keep breathing… He let go of your hand, and his arms surrounded you so tightly, as if he couldn’t let you go for the rest of eternity. His chin, rested on top of your head. And for some moments silence reigned the place.

“I am not exactly sure how to call what my heart feels, it’s been long enough that I have neglected it… but my soul won’t ever let you go, (Name)” he whispers, visibly affected. His cheeks, in pure red shades, invite you to kiss them ever so softly.

You place a peck on his warm skin, being so sure that names aren’t needed to give such a deep feeling a meaning, but still whispering back a simple word…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Amore”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Amore mio”

[yelenasdiary]

Hi there! Love your writing! 💕 I would like to request something for flufftober! You go with Flo to Venice Film Festival for the DWD premiere and you propose to her one night before, so she's wearing the engagement ring you gave to her at the premiere and everybody freaks out 🤭 thanks a lot in advance!

Shiny Surprise || Flufftober

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader 

Summary: The Don’t Worry Darling Premiere at the Venice Film Festival gets more than expected.

Fluff | 1.2K | No Warnings |  

AC: I’m still not over how beautiful Florence looked that day oh my god!!! I hope you enjoy x!

Flufftober Masterlist

Nothing ever made you as nervous as you felt last night when you got on one knee and asked Florence to marry you, you knew early on in your relationship that she was your person. The one you could count on, the one to make you laugh on your darkest days, the one to wrap you in her warm arms when everything seemed to be crashing down around you, the one who understood you and never made you feel unworthy or unloved, the one who you would do anything for, it was her, it always was her. It was a long time coming but the timing never felt more perfect than last night. 

"Are you ready, darling?" Florence asked, breaking your thoughts. She was break taking, the dress she wore only made your excitement for the wedding grow even more. "You look so beautiful" you smiled softly as you took in the scene before you, she gave you a twirl before wrapping her arms around the back of your neck, playing it the tiny baby hairs that she loved to twirl her fingers through. "Thank you, honey" she replied while looking into your eyes, "You're gonna knock em dead" you smirked, your hands resting on her hips as you pressed your lips against hers. 

"I wish you'd come on the carpet with me" she pouted. "I know darling, but we've been asked to not do so" your tone was full of disappointment. Given the drama circling the film, it was requested that there be nothing that would take the attention away from the movie and for some reason you walking the red carpet with your fiancé was going to distract reporters from the movie. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the carpet though" you kissed her once more. "Plus, I think Granny Pat will absolutely love it!" 

"She is very excited" Florence chuckled.

The 10-minute boat ride to the premiere was beautiful as you took in the sights with Florence beside you. You noticed she kept toying with the engagement ring as it complimented her hand beautifully, you were sure that people would notice its importance. "Are you nervous?" You asked as you gently placed a hand on top of hers, she shook her head and looked at you with a soft smile, "No, I'm excited" she replied, "excited to share this with you to share the rest of my life with you" she adds. You brought her hand to your lips and kissed it softly, "I love you" you whispered as the boat came to a stop, "I love you too" she smiled and kissed you once more before the two of you got off the boat. 

Cameras were quick to snap as many photos of the two of you alongside Florence's family as you followed her to the red carpet. Fans called out to her as she walked by, stopping to take photos and sign things as she made her way through. You always loved seeing how loved Florence is by everybody. Once on the red carpet you waited by the side with her family as Florence did her thing, posing for photos, waving to fans and even blowing kisses with a wide smile. You were deeply in awe as you watched her knowing she is the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with.

"Florence, show us the ring!"

"Florence is that an engagement ring?!" 

"Are you and Y/n engaged?" 

The questions from the paparazzi caught your attention as Florence ignored them and came over to you and Granny Pat with a smile, "are you ready Gran?" She asked hugging her grandma tightly, "I'm always ready!" She chuckled and grabbed Florence's hand. You smiled softly as you watched Florence take her gran to the marked spots on the red carpet. 

Your phone started to buzz with notifications from friends and extended family, all asking the same question, "Are you and Flo engaged?!?", only Florence's family and yours knew about the engagement as it hadn't even been 24 hours since she said yes with tears of joy in her eyes. You knew the internet would be buzzing over the news before you both even had the chance to announce it yourselves, but you didn't care. 

"Honey, come over here" you heard Florence call you over with a hand gesture, you shook your head with a smile as Florence came over to you, "darling, I don't care about the rules, let me show the world how beautiful you are, please" she gave you her best puppy eyes that she knew you couldn't resist and before you knew it she was dragging you hand in hand to the cameras. The flashing lights where blinding but Florence knew just how to fix that. Gently she cups your face and kisses you with her all. 

The paparazzi ate the scene before them up, taking as many photos as they could, calling out your names and asking the same questions as before. Fans freaked out and cheered loudly. You smiled against her lips before the two of you posed for more photos. "I love you so much honey" she whispered taking your hand and leading you both off the carpet.

Florence stood for a couple of short interviews, the question of the night making her cheeks glow with redness as she wanted to share the news but not without you by her side so she changed the topic and avoided the question until the last interview where she dragged you with her, your left hand rested on her left hip as she answered the questions about the movie and what it was like to work with her co-stars. 

"The cast were wonderful, we had so much fun, and we are all just excited for everybody to see the film" she smiled. 

"I'm going to ask, I'm sorry" the interview chuckled lightly, "We all saw the ring before, is it safe to say that the two of you are taking the next step? Are you guys engaged?" he asked with a soft smile. Florence looked up at you and smiled, "It's okay" you spoke softly. Florence looked back at the interviewer and nodded. 

"Yes, we are" she smiled widely. 

After the premiere you joined Florence on the jet back to the set of Dune part 2, you had her wrapped in your arms as she intertwined her fingers with yours and placing soft kisses on your cheek and jaw as you told her over and over how beautiful she looked and how proud you are of her. 

"Will you be quiet for 5 minutes and just kiss me already?" She cuts you off with the softest smile. "Oh, I'm sorry" you chuckled before kissing her with passion.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @natasha-belova | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @sophie-xox | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | 

[charaznablescanontoyota]

boat for short motherfuckers?

the lake is so quiet that audrey can hear the chirp of every insect, the call of every bird, the sound of her own heart palpitating in her chest. her eyes are squeezed shut so she doesn't have to see how far out in the water she is, but that just makes it worse - each wave that rocks her little rowboat could be someone with a mask and a knife coming up underneath it, tipping it over, dragging her below the surface.

"closing your eyes makes it worse," trish calls, across the water.

"yeah, i kind of noticed," audrey says flatly.

still. she opens her eyes. there are only three of them left on the lake, now; shigeo got his exit a full thirty minutes of mindful meditation ago, and shadow got his soon after. audrey's pretty sure shadow just fell asleep in his paddleboat, but the car must have counted it as enough rest and relaxation for the door to appear.

so it's her, it's trish, and it's al, who technically has a door on his boat already, but volunteered to stay behind until the others did too. maybe he wasn't expecting it to be so hard for them to relax, but he doesn't seem to mind having more time to fish with the improvised rod he put together back on the shore.

audrey sighs and drags her hands down her face. she can feel her genre butting up against the premise of this car, her danger sense pinging off of something she knows isn't there, and it's like bees in her brain. so maybe, actually, fuck the premise. maybe the way she gets through this isn't by being quiet and alone.

"when's the last time you were on a boat?" she asks aloud.

"oh," trish says. she's aimlessly paddling her paddleboat - pink, naturally - around in circles, sending ripples through the water. "in italy, when we split off from fugo. i don't remember a lot of it. i was dying."

audrey silently adds this to her mental catalog of insane trish anecdotes. she's not sure what reply she was expecting but - sure, italy. venice has waterways, right? that makes some kind of sense.

"you were dying?" al asks.

"my dad," trish says, which is all the elaboration she needs to give, because they've all seen her dad firsthand.

"i think the last time i was on a boat was when teacher took on me and brother as her students," al offers - maybe to cut the awkwardness, god bless him. "she stranded us on an island for a month."

"hey," audrey says. "what?"

"that's where i learned to fish," he adds cheerfully, every bit as skilled as trish at not elaborating on the anecdotes he shares from his home world. it's just harder to get annoyed at him for it.

"what about you?" trish asks.

audrey looks to her, squinting against the sun. "what?"

"when were you on a boat last?"

"oh. uh." she has to think about it. "i dunno. lakewood has...a fucked up lake. like, 'a murderer got shot by the cops there' fucked up. kids only go out there on a dare, or to fuck with each other."

the last time she was at the lake was at that party where noah almost drowned, she's pretty sure. audrey grimaces, tries once again to put the idea of outstretched hands under the water, ready to grab her ankles, out of mind.

"trish," she says aloud, grasping for something else to think about. "tell me a story that isn't about a time you almost died."

"i blew up a plane, once," trish says immediately, then pauses, hums to herself. "i think i almost died during that, actually. so - disqualified?"

"uh, no, fuck that. tell me about the plane you blew up," audrey says. it's true that the story might not meet her criteria but once, just once, she wants to hear the full story behind something outlandish that trish has so casually dropped into a conversation.

trish looks taken off guard; there's a beat of silence before she starts to actually tell the story, her voice low and careful, her eyebrows furrowed as she draws on the memory. audrey uses one oar to rotate her boat so she's facing trish, a little closer than before, then closes her eyes again and listens. it's easier to tune out the insects and the birds this time, easier to ignore the waves that rock the boat.

[stellagibs0ns]

Bedannibal prompt: Road trip to a convention/conference because Hannibal is convinced it's faster if he drives them rather than take a plane.

Bedelia is completely against the idea, but begrudgingly goes along, only for the car to break down on them.

And if you're *Really* feeling up too it, motel with only one bed trope?

i am SO sorry this ended up being like 1.5k but this prompt was TOO good!! pre relationship flirty bedannibal my beloveds!

—

The drive from Maryland to New Hampshire is 7 hours, give or take. Hannibal had mentioned a psychology conference two weeks prior, and Bedelia figured it was within her best interests to oblige him. While she has her reasons to be wary of him, she doesn’t imagine he’d go through the trouble of driving all the way to New Hampshire just to put an end to her.

While she’d suggested a flight, he insisted on driving. Bedelia is a nervous flier, but it was more appealing than spending seven hours in a car with Hannibal. It isn’t that she doesn’t appreciate his company, or that she doesn’t appreciate him. Her concerns were more centered around the fact she’s never spent more than two hours alone with him.

The early July air is thick and heady, the breeze combing through Bedelia’s blonde hair. They’d left later than intended, but the afternoon sun is still high and hot. She turns to glance at him through the tinted lenses of her sunglasses. They’re two hours into their trip, and it isn’t nearly as unpleasant as she was expecting it to be. He’s a good conversationalist, in his own way.

“Du Maurier,” he says simply. “French, no? I don’t believe I ever asked.”

She pushes her sunglasses up onto her head with a small hum.

“On my father’s side. I spent a handful of years in Marseille as a teenager.”

“Marseille is beautiful,” Hannibal hums thoughtfully. “Have you seen much of Europe, Bedelia?”

“Not nearly enough.”

“Have you been to Italy? I admit, I favour Italy greatly. The architecture, the culture. It’s deep. Rich.”

“Italy? Mm. Venice twice, but nothing beyond that.”

“Florence is my particular favourite. Perhaps you’ll accompany me one day.”

Bedelia’s eyebrow raises.

“You don't strike me as the type to take a colleague to Italy.”

A smirk settles on Hannibal’s face.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t be accompanying me as a colleague.”

Bedelia purses her lips at that, and she glances out of the window. He’s almost enticingly infuriating, and she has another five hours of this to look forward to.

—

Another two hours of idle conversation (although she’s sure that idle conversation between two psychologists is far from the ordinary), the engine sputters and the car comes to a halt. Bedelia stiffens slightly, glancing to Hannibal. He seems unfazed. Her eyes flicker to the gas meter, but she knows they left on a full tank.

The road they’re on is quiet, the sun getting lower in the sky with each passing moment. Hannibal gets out of the car, and Bedelia watches him circle to the hood. The smoke that billows up when he lifts it is almost comical, but she’s finding little humour in the fact his car is broken down on a stretching road in the middle of nowhere.

Bedelia gets out of the car, as though she could do something to help.

A snide remark about a flight sits beneath her tongue, but she chooses not to push her luck with him.

“Should I be making a call?” Bedelia asks, breaking the silence.

Neither of them are the type to be overly handy with cars. Bedelia always let the grease-covered men at the shop handle her car, and there’s a limit to how dirty Hannibal will get his hands.

“Perhaps,” he says, peering over the machinery of the car. “That is, unless, you know your way around a car.”

Bedelia huffs at that. Not very likely.

She almost misses the smirk tugging at his lips.

How perfect this is. Alone in the middle of god knows where with Hannibal Lecter. However, when she crosses back to the passenger seat to retrieve her purse, she catches the way the evening sun hits his high cheekbones. The way his muscles tug at the crisp white shirt he’s wearing. It’s entirely inappropriate, and so she turns her attention to her purse.

A call is made, but they’re given a forty five minute wait. Bedelia does her best to keep her tone polite, but the idea of waiting forty five minutes in this heat leaves her agitated and fussy.

So, the two of them sit side by side in the unmoving car. Hannibal is patient, and collected. Bedelia is growing more irritable by the minute.

“I take it you aren’t one for the outdoors, Bedelia.”

He looks almost smug.

“No. I am not,” she says. She toes off her Louboutins, crossing her stockinged legs and tapping her nails on the side of her purse.

“You and I both. I’m only grateful the weather is pleasant. I have an aversion to the cold,” Hannibal says, his eyes raking over her features.

“Mm.”

“Water?” Hannibal offers, and it isn’t chilled, but it’s better than nothing.

Bedelia takes the bottle, and eyes it suspiciously for a moment. For all she knows, this could be orchestrated. She ignores the thrum of perverse excitement that passes through her. Entirely inappropriate.

“It’s water, Bedelia. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I can see that,” she replies hoarsely, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip.

She notices the way his eyes flicker down to her throat as she swallows, and a light flush creeps onto her cheeks.

After a futile handful of attempts to strike up conversation, Hannibal leaves it alone. He knows that she speaks only when she has something to say, and it’s clear their predicament and the humidity is making her uncomfortable.

—

The exchange with the mechanic is perfectly polite, and no problems arise. She hadn’t expected them to, but Hannibal can be unpredictable. What shocked her the most was when the man had turned to Hannibal and offered them a ride, insisting on getting ‘you and the missus’ out of the heat. Hannibal had no response outside of a polite ‘thank you’, nor had he made the effort to correct the man. That left her with a strange, unidentifiable feeling in her stomach.

Hannibal’s demeanour hadn’t even changed when the mechanic let them know that while the car was very much fixable, it would be an overnight job. Their best bet was to find a motel nearby.

Bedelia, on the other hand, couldn’t help the way her face soured slightly. Less at the idea of their trip being delayed, but more at the fact she’d be staying in a motel.

The desk clerk, a buxom young woman, almost seemed shocked when they approached the counter. They were hardly odd to look at, but they were both dressed immaculately for a road trip, of all things. Too immaculately to be staying in a motel.

Bedelia toes at the carpet beneath her feet while Hannibal is the first to speak up. His request for two rooms is met with an unfortunate expression.

“We’re all booked up this weekend,” the young woman says, smacking her gum. Bedelia notices the way a vague expression of displeasure crosses Hannibal’s face. “There’s some big convention in town. The best I can do is one room.”

They have no choice, and Bedelia doesn’t say a word.

“We’ll take it. Thank you very much.”

—

The room isn’t as nauseating as she was anticipating. It’s clean enough, and while it’s not what she’d take if she had a choice, it’ll do for the night. She’s jolted from her thoughts as Hannibal sets their luggage on the bed.

Taking the couch is not an option, she notices. No couch in sight. It’s one night. She’ll live.

“You seem tense, Bedelia,” Hannibal says finally, his hand touching her elbow. His thumb grazes her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She flushes, and clears her throat.

“Tired.”

He hums. Hannibal draws the curtains and turns on the air conditioning, smoothing out his shirt. They’re both dancing around the inevitable.

“Excuse me,” Bedelia says quietly, after opening her suitcase and taking out her pyjamas. She locks the bathroom door behind her, undressing and slipping into her satin pyjamas. She’s grateful she didn’t choose to pack a slip. However, the thought of Hannibal seeing her like that, with so much skin exposed…

She rids herself of the thought, taking a breath before she unlocks the door. Hannibal has taken the time to change out of his clothes and into a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama pants. It never even occurred to her that he might own a t-shirt. Her mouth turns dry at the sight of it clinging to his broad figure, his hair slightly unruly.

Bedelia exhales. It’s going to be a long night.

The two of them settle on their respective sides of the bed, facing away from one another. Neither wants to be the first to say something, and so a polite ‘goodnight’ is offered, and the lamps are turned off.

Bedelia’s rest is fitful and twitchy for a good while, before she manages to settle herself and melt into her sleep. In fact, it turns out to be the most fulfilling rest she’s had in months. In a motel, nonetheless.

However, it only occurs to her exactly why she slept so well when she opens her eyes to the light filtering through the curtains. She blinks herself awake to find herself wrapped up in Hannibal’s arms, her leg draped over his waist and his hand resting protectively on her lower back.

“Good morning, Bedelia.”

[chrisfriel]

this is not a howard hodgkin 030523

100 variations of howard hodgkin / venice shadows in each case google lens recognised it as a hodgkin we have come full circle

www.cfriel.com/100hh

source : here google lens : here

[tonysbed]

Black dress // First Fic of Kinktober

Florence Pugh x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Flo attend the venice film festival and her neediness reveals your relationship.

Warnings:Public sex?,Fingering,Praise,Slight degradation?,Slapping,S/D Vibes,Tell me if I missed something

“Flo no!”You slightly pushed your girlfriend away from you”We just finished our walk.We have press in 20 Minutes”She rolled her eyes yes.

“We have to be fast then,please Y/n”She whined and looked at you with puppy eyes”Don’t look at me like that baby.You know it drives me crazy”You groaned and leaned your head against the bathroom wall.

“Feel how much I want you”Her eyes looked up at you and she guided your hand down to her center.You rolled your eyes back”Naughty little girl”You grabbed her under her thighs and set her on the sink.Your lips traveled over her neck”Y/n,baby please.Don’t tease”

You smirked”Someone is needy hm?lShe nodded”Just fuck me please”She bucked her hips towards your body”Ah!”You slapped her thigh”Don’t move. Otherwise you won’t get to cum at all tonight”She immediately stopped and whined.

“Shhh..Patience baby”You let your hand trace up her thigh and slowly moved closer to where she desperately needed you”You want me to touch you?”

She nodded”Please..Please do something..Anything”You smirked”Only because you asked so nicely baby”Your finger finally met her center and she let out a moan.Your thumb slowly circled her clit and two of your finger pushed into her needy hole”Fuck-Yes!Y/n god!”You smiled and kissed her neck.

You pumped your fingers in and out of her”Shit!So good.Don’t stop,Please,Please,Please don’t stop”You chuckled at get desperation”I really didn’t give you enough attention hm baby?’m sorry”Her head flew back against the mirror and a load moan escaped her.

“Shhh Baby.You don’t want everyone to know or?”She looked at you”I don’t-Fuck-I don’t care.Jus’ want you to fuck me”She said”Yeah?My desperate little slut”She nodded”’m your slut”You pushed your fingers up at her sweet spot.She gripped your arm”Y/n!Yes!”

You felt her high approaching”You gon’ cum Baby?”She nodded”Words Darling or you won’t get anything”You slowed your movements”Yes!I’m gonna cum!Please don’t stop!”You smiled and fastened your movements.

“I’m Cumming!”She screamed and her nails dig into your arm.You slowly removed your fingers and shoved your fingers i to her mouth”Good girl”

Her eyes looked up at you and you pulled your fingers away”Come on luv.We got to do press”You helped her fixing her dress.

On the way out,it was clear everyone around witnessed what just happened.Harry pulled both of you behind him”God damn it.You’re almost late!Is there a time where you two are not on each other?”He asked laughing.

Also the audience did not miss Flo’s or your hickeys.They also didn’t miss the sex eyes and tension between you and her.In the evening,the whole internet was full of posts only about you and Flo.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/n:Like I said,This is my first ever written smut😭I’m only good at Fluff,Angst or creative imagines🥲

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

now jimin is such an interesting character like he really logs into social media to post about anything but his own face how is he not obsessed with his face? I just know that if I had a face like his I would force every living creature to look at me 24/7, baby is way too humble sometimes I even wonder if he really really knows how stunning his face is cuz wow

It's easier to talk like that from an outsider's perspective. But I think reality is a bit different. Jimin doesn't come across as a narcissist either.

You saying "I would force every living creature to look at me 24/7" made me think of this documentary I saw recently. It's called The Most Beautiful Boy in The World and it's about Bjorn Andresen, the one who played Tadzio in Death in Venice. I wanna talk about that for a bit, I'm using this ask as an excuse.

The boy's grandmother wanted to have a celebrity/actor in the family, so she took Bjorn to the casting call. Luchino Visconti saw him and knew immediately he was the one. They asked him to take off all his clothes, except underwear, so they can take some shots. He was only 15 at the time. Filming went well and then when Death in Venice premiered at Cannes, it turned into madness. I think that's when Visconti called him the most beautiful boy in the world and that label turned into a curse. The boy was thrown into the lion's den, full of people who wanted to be seen next to him, taken to parties and flaunted as this otherwordly creature. Everyone wanted him or to be in his proximity. What was unfortunate was that he had no adult to take care of him. And for an adolescent who hated absolutely everything of that life but who also believed he was supposed to listen to what he was told, it turned into a nightmare.

He became an "object" of fascination because he was considered androgynous and the character he portrayed in the film had an effect on people's perception of him. Tadzio was Beauty and Death all together, this untouchable being. In the documentary it's explained how his visit to Japan and the work he had to do there was considered probably among the first instances of fans getting crazy over an idol. There's footage of that. He also became the inspiration since the 1970s for a lot of manga. So many famous characters are based on his face.

The guy hated it because he was reduced to his beauty. I won't tell you what happens to him later in life, perhaps you'll want to see the documentary, but his story is heartbreaking.

To circle this back to Jimin and his beauty, often time our own perception of us and the perception other people have of us does not align completely. I will assume that Jimin is aware of his beauty, but somehow I doubt he wakes up everyday thinking he needs to be worshipped for his looks. That's the fan's job which is a daily habit at this point. We are obsessed with looks and beauty, whatever that may mean to us. In Jimin's case we talk so much about his appearance and often times I would see the world "otherwordly" used when describing him. It was impossible not to think of Bjorn Andresen. What I hope is that Jimin had such an upbringing and a life that didn't in turn let the adoration get to his head. So far, he seems fine.

[i-fondued]

Ghost | Sinners in Secret - Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven - The Dance Incident

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags!

A/N: Don’t throw a shoe at me for the way this chapter ends, I swear I will update by Monday night!!

Chapter One - HERE

Chapter Two - HERE

Chapter Three - HERE

Chapter Four - HERE

Chapter Five - HERE

Chapter Six - HERE

Chapter Seven - HERE

Chapter Eight - HERE

Chapter Nine - HERE

Chapter Ten - HERE

AO3 Link - HERE

Terzo hadn’t been lying, Italy was beautiful. 

I was glued to the windows, watching the old stone homes and manicured gardens pass by as we traveled through the busy streets. In the distance I could see Vatican City, including the catholic church's headquarters. I thought about asking Terzo and Copia if we’d have time to visit but I thought back to what Imperator said and decided to bring it up another time. 

We seemed to be on the outskirts of the city where there were large homes and fancy cars. I watched as we followed a curving street as it followed a large stone wall before we turned into a little private driveway and up to a large ornate gate. On the gate was the seal of the satanic church, the grucifix proudly sculpted in an oxidized copper. There were two ghouls dressed in almost militaristic garb, a gun strapped to their hips mostly for show for the humans in the neighborhood. They took a quick look at the ghoul in the front seat and glanced at us three in the back before they nodded at us, opening the gate with a press of a button and letting us onto the enormous property. I couldn’t stop staring at the grounds as we pulled up to the expansive villa and monastery. Everything was a very traditional italian style, I felt like I had stepped into a renaissance landscape painting. 

“Terzo…this is incredible…” I couldn’t help the awe that was clear in my voice, he chuckled as he pulled my hand into his as Copia rolled his eyes with a small smile. “Do you know the history of this place?”

“Amore, this is one of quella della mia famiglia old homes.” He gestured to the approaching villa. “This one is not even the oldest or the nicest. There is one in Venice that overlooks one of the main waterways, è bellissimo in the summer.”

“I’d love to see it someday.”

“Before we leave Italia, we shall take you Sorella.” Terzo chucked, Copia nodding and leaning to press a kiss to my temple.

“There are many places Papa and I would like to take you before we leave, Stellina. We have some plans for you.” Copia’s voice was thick with unspoken promises and I couldn’t help but shutter. Both men chuckled at me. 

The driveway curved around in a circle as we pulled up to the front of the home of the Satanic Church. In front of the large villa were a few familiar faces and some new ones. There were four cardinals, two of which had been at the airport earlier, one who was a new face and Cardinal Veritas. In the center of them was a man dressed in a simple suit with a welcoming smile on his face. When the SUV stopped, the ghoul who had been driving came to open the door for us. 

Copia stepped out first, his eyes narrowing at Veritas before turning back to offer me his hand as I slipped from the backseat. Terzo, ever the center of attention, stepped from the SUV and gave a little silly bow. I rolled my eyes, Copia taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. We walked towards the gathered group as Terzo lagged behind us, telling the ghoul that was helping with our bags to bring everything to the papal suites. 

“Cardinal Copia! It has been far too long!” The man in the suit smiled, he was an older man with darker skin. A welcoming smile was on his face as Copia stepped towards him and shook his hand. 

“Saltarian, it is very good to see you again.” Copia’s face softened slightly and he gave the other man a genuine smile. “It is very nice to be back home.”

“We are happy to have you, Copia. You know you’re always welcome here Cardinal.” Saltarian said, his eyes moving from Copia to me. He offered me his hand, taking mine and kissing my knuckles. “This must be our Prime Mover, yes?”

“This would be the one, Saltarian. Her blood was tested by Papa Emeritus II, I have brought the notes and her file with us for the council for review.” Copia cut me off before I could reply as Terzo finally joined us, taking my hand and tugging me to him. Copia started to pull out the files that Imperator had given him before I was able to stop him. “Shall I hold on to them for now?”

“I-Uh…I say hold onto them for now…”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Saltarian Sir.” I chuckled, reaching out to shake the older man’s hand, Copia seeming oblivious to the other man’s reaction. 

“Welcome to Vatican City, Sister. I’m sure you’d like to settle in. Why don’t you follow me and we can have a little tour?” He laughed, gesturing for us to follow him. “Gentleman, we’ll convine the Council tomorrow. We will see you later this evening.”

The cardinals beside Veritas nodded vaguely and bowed to Terzo before disappearing down a gravel path towards what looked like a large chapel space. Veritas unfortunately stuck with us, only a step or two behind Saltarian. As we made our way into the sprawling villa, Saltarian pointed out various objects and tapestries. My little historian heart soared with all of the relics and old objects that they had on display. The whole building was made of stone, the floors of swirling black marble, and the ceilings high and decorated with ornately carved wood beams. There were many open air archways that faced sprawling courtyards, some of the hallways had nothing but gothic imagery apon stained glass. 

A part of me was desperate to come back in the summer, when a warm breeze would blow through the open air as we moved from the main villa space, where the siblings worked and learned and had meals, to the separate wings of the monastery that the siblings and clergy called home. As we walked down the hallway where at the end was an enormous stained glass window that depicted the fall of Lucifer from the heavens, the hall split into left and right directions. 

“Papa, we had taken the liberties of having the Papal Suites readied for you if you follow me. You each have your own room should you need it.” Saltarian turned from the large window and smiled as he waved us to follow him. 

“Saltarian, Sir. I hope you don’t mind, I hadn’t thought to mention it till now. As I understand it, the congregation in the States that you came from do not have segregated quarters for men and women, correct?” Cardinal Veritas’s voice was sickly sweet as he turned towards the three of us, a wicked smile on his face as he looked at me. 

“What is your point, Veritas?” Copia’s voice was low, nose upturned as he made an attempt at looking down at the taller man. 

“Well I had assumed Sister would be staying in the Sisters of Sin quarters…” Veritas made a vague gesture to the other hallway, I saw some other sisters coming and going from the rooms with curious looks at us newcomers. “I took the liberty of getting her rooms ready, she would be next to the head Sister.”

“She will be staying with me, with us , Cardinal.” Terzo’s voice was deadly serious, eyes dark as he put a possessive hand on my waist. 

“My apologies, Your Eminence. I was not made aware there would be an exception to the rules…” Veritas was looking at Terzo, arms behind his back with a smirk. I’d never seen anyone in the clergy size Terzo up like this and I was so shocked I didn’t even have anything clever to say. He leaned in close to whisper to Terzo as Saltarian spoke to Copia quietly. “Though you always did have a fondness for rule bending in your favor…”

I felt Terzo stiffen beside me, his hand gripping me tighter as he scoffed at Veritas. Terzo struggled to calm himself, I could see him almost shaking with fury in the corner of my eye. 

“Fareste bene a ricordare anche con chi state parlando, Cardinale…” You would do well to also remember who you are talking to, Cardinal. Terzo’s voice was deep and gravely, a shiver shooting down my spine. I could have sworn I saw his white iris shimmer in his fury. “Potresti avere un po' di influenza con il consiglio, ma ricorda chi è il responsabile qui…” You may have some leverage with the board, but remember who's in charge here.

“Papa…” Copia’s voice was calm, his hand resting gently on Terzo’s shoulder and pulling our attention away from the increasing tension between the Terzo and Veritas. “Ora non è il momento…”

“Sister isn’t just a sibling, Cardinal Veritas. She is going to be our Prime Mover, she will be senior clergy after all! It is customary for the Prime Mover to stay in the Papal Suites.” Saltarian spoke, tone soft as he stepped into the hallway that led to our rooms. “Come, let me show you your rooms. Cardinal, why don’t you go check on the dinner preparations? I’ll meet back up with you in my office after. ”

Terzo led me away from Veritas, barely looking back at the other man. My eyes however were drawn in and I locked eyes with him before turning back to look at Saltarian who was speaking warmly with Copia. The blond had a curious look on his face, halfway between fury and desire. 

“Are you okay, Terzo?” I mumbled quietly, giving him a playful hip check to try and lighten his mood. 

“I’m fine, Amore.” His tone made it very clear that he was anything but, however I knew better than to try and pry it out of him right now. 

“Here we are.” Saltarian stopped in front of a pair of French doors, Terzo’s personal grucifix crest mounted on the doors. He pushed the doors open and I was taken aback by the design and decor of the space

Where most of the villa we had seen was done in dark woods and traditional renaissance styles, the Papal Suites were light and airy. Light woods and cream fabrics were everywhere, with accents of gold and silver inlays in the tables and chairs. We stepped into the main suite living room, widows all along the back wall facing the sun brought in tons of light. On the left was a massive fireplace that had a merry fire roaring, a set of couches angled for perfect conversations. To the right was a small office space with a desk, it seemed like it was more for formal show than any work. There were a few bookshelves as well, filled with books, and a little reading nook in the corner. Behind the desk was a large set of sliding doors that opened out to a private courtyard that had a small path that seemed to lead to the main path outside that led to the Church hall. 

Down the hallway to the left was a small bathroom and two bedrooms, both of which had their own private bath. There was also a small kitchen and a good sized dining room with a large ornate dining table. To the right was another hallway that led to a massive master suite, complete with a bathroom that rivaled even my own at home. After I finished my quick inspection, I joined Copia on the couch while Terzo directed the ghouls on where our bags were to go. 

“I’ll let you three get settled in. Feel free to make use of the grounds and the villa. I just ask that you join us for a formal meal this evening, drinks and dancing after for the senior clergy.” Saltarian spoke, waving us off as he headed for the door with his hand in his pocket. “I’ll see you then!”

Once the ghouls left, Terzo came and flopped on the couch and laid his head in my lap. I sighed, taking his sunglasses and tossing them on the coffee table, rubbing his tense shoulders. 

“Well…that all could have gone worse with our track record.” I joked, both men giving me a disbelieving look. “What?”

“Not funny, Amore.” Terzo grumbled, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Quel topo bastardo vuole combattere.”

“Who? Veritas?”

“Si.”

“What is his problem anyways? The looks he’s been giving me have been downright creepy.” I grumbled, looking to Copia for answers but his gaze was locked on the crackling fire. 

“Cardinale Veritas is…” Copia started to speak but Terzo sat up abruptly and flung his hands in the air, practically foaming at the mouth. 

“He is a jealous cad, he does not respect anyone he sees as beneath him.” He fumed, standing and pacing in front of the fireplace. “I do not want you alone with him, Amore…I do not trust him.”

“Papa…” Copia’s voice was steady but there was a warning passed between them.

“Don’t Cardinale…” 

“She deserves to know the truth.” Copia said simply, my head whipping back and forth between them feeling completely left out. 

“Se le dico la verità, le farà male. Non voglio ferirla con quanto sono stato stupido in gioventù!” If I tell her the truth, it will hurt her. I don't want to hurt her with how stupid I was in my youth! Terzo snapped before huffing and storming for the doors leading out to the courtyard, slamming the door behind him. I jumped and looked at Copia, brows furrowed. 

“You better tell me what is going on…” I sighed, crossing my arms and crossing my legs under me on the couch. “We need to all be on the same page with the council meeting tomorrow, we need to present as a united front.”

Copia sighed, taking off his biretta and leather gloves before tugging my legs into his lap. I slumped against the arm rest and he began to rub my feet. 

Copia did as I asked. He told me everything. 

When they were young and Terzo had come to study at the villa when he turned eighteen, he grew close with Copia and Veritas because they treated him like another person and not a future Papa. Copia told me stories of their summers in the Italian countryside, raising hell and learning ritual lessons. He told me of one time they had snuck off, stealing Nihil’s old car and drove to the seaside to play hooky from lessons and spend the day by the ocean. I watched as Copia got lost in the memories, something that clearly he had been doing all day, and I couldn’t help but curl up closer to him as he spoke. 

He told me of when the day came and Terzo was expected to ascend after so many years in Italy. Papa had known there was an empty Cardinal spot he was leaving and the Clergy had requested him to make a choice of who would take the spot. 

“He picked you didn’t he?”

“Si, Stellina.” He sighed, running his bare hands through his hair to push it away from his face. “To this day, I do not know why he did. I had been just a Black Priest at the time, known for my translations and skill with meticulous rituals. Nothing special. Veritas was furious, he had thought himself more charismatic than me which made him a better fit for the role.”

“I can’t imagine you being uncharismatic, Copia.” I teased him lightly, pulling a small smile from his face. 

“Ero timido da giovane, I barely had the courage to speak with a Sister half the time.” He laughed, turning his mismatched eyes towards me fondly. 

Copia continued with their history. He told me that when it had been announced they needed a cardinal to report to our abbey back home, Copia had once again been Terzo’s first pick. Veritas had hoped to take over the head Cardinal position Copia was leaving vacant but apparently Terzo had insisted Copia take the role with him over the Atlantic and instead Saltarian had filled in the position. 

“A work rivalry is what caused all that?” I questioned, brow knitting together and Copia actually took a second to look embarrassed before continuing.

“Ah..no, Amore. There is always more to the story, si?”

“Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this is going.” I grumbled, Copia smiled sheepishly before continuing. 

No, work rivalries were not the end of it. 

Copia told me about Veritas’ sister. Apparently when they were young, Terzo and her had been very close. Copia skirted around some details I could tell, but he had said that there was talk of her becoming Terzo’s unofficial Prime Mover. When they discovered my selection, she and Terzo had broken things off. That had been several years ago after I had first joined the Church.

“It was that serious..?” My heart clenched painfully, looking out towards where Terzo had stormed off. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t been discovered as a Prime Mover, would I have ever grown so attached to Terzo?

“It was just a rumor, Topolino…” Copia’s voice was soft as he cupped my chin and turned me to look at him. “You had always been fated to be ours, hellsent for us.”

“Is she why you both don’t want me to stay in the sisters quarters?” 

“It is part of it, si…” 

“What’s the other part?” His sudden hesitancy made me suspicious as he refused to look at me. 

“Amore…” 

“Spit it out Copia.” 

“Papa and I have…earned a reputation over the years we spent here with the sisters. Neither of us wanted you to find out from them about our…histories.”

I huffed and stood up dramatically, Copia jumping slightly at my sudden movement. Checking the clock over the mantle, I knew I had a few hours before I needed to get ready but I needed some space. 

“Sorella..?” Copia’s voice was concerned but I held my hand up to him before I spoke.

“I understand you both had lives before we all became entangled, just like I’m sure you know I also had a life before the abbey. It’s another thing to have that knowledge be something that could derail our entire relationship.” I rubbed my eyes before sighing and storming towards the master suite and its fabulous bathroom. 

“Amore?” Copia called after me. 

“I’m not mad you two had a slut stage, I’m just mad it wasn't just with me!” I called back, I could hear him laughing in the other room. “I’m going to take a bath. Alone!”

…

I felt slightly better after soaking in the tub that easily could have felt another four people in it. 

When I came out of the bathroom I started to dig through my bags to try and find something I could wear. I hadn’t realized that formal meals here in Italy were truly formal events. Copia had been sitting on the bed waiting for me, I paused when he stood and played with his hands. 

“Amore…” He started but I cut him off. 

“What are you wearing?” I asked, mouth practically hanging open. 

Copia was wearing a suit of sorts. He wore a black leather tailcoat over a black vest and button up shirt. On the left and over his heart was a beaded grucifix, ornately detailed with beads and various colored threads. His trousers were sinfully tight, leaving very little to the imagination. His hands had his normal black leather gloves, his hair slicked back slightly and he didn’t wear his biretta. 

He looked like some sort of gothic romance character and I felt like I was drooling. Copia looked at himself with a puzzled look before shrugging at me. 

“What do you mean, Stellina? I am wearing my formal outfit, no?” He asked, gesturing towards the piles of clothes around the room where I had torn through my bags looking for something to wear. “What about you? You also need to get dressed.”

“I don’t have anything appropriate, at least not if everyone is dressing that formally.” I groaned, tugging out a few different linen dresses. “What am I going to do?”

“Nonsense, Topolino. The other siblings will be dressed in their uniforms, a little more formale than yours but nothing that will make you stick out too much.” Copia tried to comfort me as I panicked, my thoughts instantly on the senior clergy who’d be attending. 

“Maybe I can make it seem like I’m extra pious by wearing the simple habit and robes?” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. A soft knock on the door drew my eyes up to the slightly subdued form of Terzo; hanging over his shoulder was a long black garment bag.

“I…hope you do not think it too formal of me but…well I had a feeling you did not have something appropriate to wear tonight, Amore…” Terzo seemed sheepish as he walked over and laid the bag on the bed. 

Slowly I unzipped the cover, a gasp slipping past my lips as I pulled the heavy gown from the bag. The dress was made of a dusty dark blue velvet, almost black in particular light. It had a high neckline, fitted at the waist and a long flowing skirt with a slight train. The back was almost completely open, the neckline tying around my neck. The dress also had bishop sleeves with the sleeves becoming fitted from my forearm down, with pearls stitched to look like stars. All along the chest were more pearls sewn sporadically, the ends of the necktie that would brush against my back covered in pearls. 

“Terzo this is…it's too much.” My voice wavered, thick with emotion, looking over to him as he stripped down and grabbed a towel from the rack. 

“Nonsense Amore.” He laughed, waving me off as he came to press a soft kiss to my temple. “You are il mio tesoro, you deserve the world and I will give it to you.”

“Let me help you, Sorella…” Copia’s voice was thick as he looked at me with heated eyes. “Papa, you must hurry and get ready as well.”

I felt Terzo pull away, heading into the bathroom, before Copia helped me into the dress, fabric heavy as I slipped the sleeves on. Copia helped zip up the little invisible zipper, pressing a kiss to my bare back. I shuddered, turning to look at him through my eyelashes. 

“Positivamente squisito…” His lips murmured into my skin as his hands settled on my waist, pulling me back against him. “Maybe we should just have dinner here, si?”

“While it's very tempting…” I sighed, eyes closing in bliss as he continued to press kisses to my shoulders and neck. “We have the Council to face tomorrow and I don’t think skipping out on dinner would win me any favors…”

“No, I suppose you are correct.” He chuckled before stepping back, obvious discomfort at the snug trousers crushing his manhood. “Finish getting ready, I will meet you in the main room.”

I quickly did my hair, pulling it up in a simple bun with a few curls uncooperative and settling along my neck. I kept my make up simple, mostly because I was never good with make-up in the first place. I slipped on the earrings Terzo had tucked into the bag, a pair of small dangling grucifix, and the pair of black heels. I tested them a few steps, satisfied I wasn’t going to break an ankle. Once I was done I followed Copia’s lead and went into the living room where he and I waited for Terzo. 

“Ah, Amore. You look incantevole, I knew that blue would be a good color for you.” 

I turned to look back at Terzo, a smile on my lips, and I felt like I was going to swoon. Terzo was dressed like he had just stepped from a Jane Austen novel. 

He wore a high collar, double breasted black tailcoat. His black undershirt had a clerical collar, the little white band standing proudly. He wore his normal white satin gloves, his insignia ring on his right middle finger. His trousers, much like Copia’s, were sinfully tight and were tucked into a pair of knee high riding boots. His papal paints had been touched up and his hair slicked back, for the first time I noticed his ears were pierced. In one he wore a black diamond stud and on the left he wore a grucifix earring, matching the ones I was wearing. 

“I-I think this is the first time I’ve seen either of you wear something besides your uniforms…” I giggled awkwardly, squirming under the weight of their eyes on me. “I-It’s a nice change.”

Terzo’s face softened as he came and took my hand, giving me a chance to spin for him. He whistled low, pulling me to him and pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. 

“Tesoro, I will dress like this every day if it pleases you…” He teased before taking my arm. Copia came to my other side and took the other. “I’m sure Cardinale feels the same way, Si?”

“Only if Sorella dresses like this every day…”

“I’m not sure how the Siblings back home would feel about that.” I laughed as we made our way back to the dining hall we had been shown before when we arrived. 

As we made our way down there we ran into several siblings of various ranks, all of them welcomed us with a mumbled “Your Emenceces” and a bow or curtsy. I was thrown off that they were including me at first, till I remembered just who I was striving to become. I was determined to live up to the task Lucifer himself blessed me with, standing tall as we walked with my head held high.

When we arrived at the dining hall I couldn’t help the shock on my face. The space was very large, several long tables set up following the length of the room and under the massive set of stained glass windows on the far end of the hall was the head table. All the tables were set with white linens, polished silverware and large centerpieces of exotic flowers. 

“Ah, our guests of honor have finally joined us.” 

I had to hold back from rolling my eyes as we turned towards Veritas. He was dressed similarly to Copia, in a form-fitting suit, however his was made in a deep red fabric and he wore his biretta. His hair was pulled back at his temples again, the pieces braided together. I put on my most diplomatic smile, extending my hand and giving him a cool look till he took it and kissed my knuckles in greeting. 

“Cardinal Veritas, I apologize. I’m not sure if we were ever told what time dinner was.” I attempted to smooth things over as I could feel the dark looks on my companions faces. “Let us sit.”

Terzo took my arm back, giving Veritas a dirty look as he guided us to the head table. Copia pulled out my chair to Terzo’s left hand, helping tuck the chair in for me. Terzo sat in the center spot at the table, Copia on his right and I on his left. On Copia’s other side was Saltarian who began to happily chat with him, both seeming to be caught up in catching up together. On my right side was Veritas, which I had to fight the urge to tuck myself closer to Terzo. Veritas stood, clinking his glass and calling the attention of the siblings who seemed to scurry to their seats.

“I propose a toast. To our most auspicious Papa.” Veritas’ smirk deepened as he nodded at Terzo before locking his gaze with Copia. “To our clergy head, Cardinal Copia.”

My throat tightened as his eyes looked to mine, his face looked kind but the dark glare at me conveyed what he didn’t say. 

“And finally, to our prospective Prime Mover. May Lucifer himself bless you and your bindings, should you choose to take them.” For some reason that felt more like a threat than a toast, but I tried to wipe the grimace from my face and sip my champagne. “Papa, would you like to say a few words to your most dedicated flock?”

Terzo choked slightly on his drink, a scowl on his face for a split second before he attempted to recover face. “Ah, Si. Si Cardinale.”

He stood, clearing his throat and holding his glass up, looking out over the large dining room. I looked up at him lovingly, trying to encourage him with my smile. 

“Ah, buona serata everyone.” Terzo shuffled slightly, a few kind responses of ‘Good Evening, Papa’ sounded across the room. “I thank you all for joining us here and for welcoming us with open arms.”

Terzo looked over at me and with a cheeky smile, I gave him a warning glare to which he winked at me. 

“A toast to Saltarian’s generous summoning, resulting in my little vacanza italiana. To Cardinal Veritas for his lovely toast; and most importantly to mi compagne, il mio primo motore, mio amato. Long May She Serve.”

A chorus of ‘Long May She Serve’ rang out, much to my surprise. I heard Veritas scoff to my right side as I glanced at Terzo with a dirty look. He smiled, reaching out to caress my cheek before turning back towards the siblings seated in front of us. 

“Please, enjoy your meals. Let us offer thanks to our Dark Lord.”

Terzo spoke a quick Latin prayer, many people’s heads bowed as they mumbled along, and Copia and I caught each other's eye. The Cardinal shrugged at me, both of us thrown off by Terzo’s more subdued approach at leading a meal prayer. He sat back down and instantly I knew something was off, he kept making small talk with me and drawing my attention away from the siblings as they ate their meals. 

I was tense throughout the whole meal whenever I wasn't speaking with Terzo. Cardinal Veritas’ eyes were constantly lingering on me and he took every moment I wasn’t speaking with Terzo to cut in and make some sort of snide comment. 

“Ah, Sister. I don’t mean to pry but I was curious what you normally do for tasks at your abbey.” His voice was thick with sweetness, a few of the Cardinals on the council sat to his right side and I didn’t want to be rude with tomorrow’s meeting. 

“I work in the library.” 

“Ah, Cardinal Copia was always such a big fan of the library here. Did he help you get reassigned to that position?”

“Um, no. I had always worked in the library since I had joined the Church. I’ve always had a talent for languages, when I proved I had a skill for Latin translations they had me start working on the translation requests.”

“Most impressive, Sister.” One of the other cardinal’s nodded, sipping his wine as he listened to me speak.

“Thank you, Cardinal.” I smiled, nodding demurely at him. “Since I started doing translation works, I’ve been entrusted with very old ritual translations and various documents and journals of clergymen and the Emeritus family.”

“What about your ritual experience, Sister?” Veritas’ voice was smooth and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. “You must know how important that particular skill would be if you become the Prime Mover.”

“I wasn’t aware I was on trial here, Cardinal Veritas.” I said sweetly, my smile practically dripping with sarcasm. 

“Forgive me, Sister.” He clearly didn’t catch or chose to ignore my icy tone. “I’m merely curious what drew Papa to your side, and Cardinal Copia for that matter.”

“Who says I drew them in?” I almost snarled, placing my silverware down and shoving backwards in my seat. “Please excuse me, I need to get some air.”

Copia and Terzo both instantly looked in my direction, concerned on their faces. I waved them off with a small smile. “I’ll be right back.” I mumbled to them and they both seemed to settle down. 

With my skirts swishing behind me, I slipped out of the dining hall and down to where the restrooms were. I stood in front of the marge mirror on the wall behind the sinks, gripping the edge tightly as I took some soothing breaths. I knew I couldn’t lose my cool here. There not only was too much riding on this going well but I knew if I made the wrong move or miscalculated a step, I would lose one or even both of the men I’d grown to love. 

I took a moment to splash some cold water on my cheeks, face flushed from the heat of the thick fabric of my dress. I heard a toilet flush and someone come out of one of the stalls, standing straight and putting on my best Imperator face. 

The other woman was tall and willowy, her face sharp and elf like. Her hair was long and pin straight, a buttery yellow shade. She wore a dress like the other siblings. It was a similar robe to what I wore back home but in a silky material with a high slit. Instead of a traditional habit she wore a sheer veil, her hair slightly covered. 

“Oh, my apologies, Sister.” She startled slightly, hand over her heart. “I didn’t hear anyone else come in after me.”

“No, I’m sorry.” I smiled as she came over and washed her hands before checking her makeup in the mirror. “I just needed a minute away from the hall, I don’t tend to do well in the spotlight.”

“Unfortunately, you may be in the spotlight a little longer. Dancing and drinks after dinner means more so networking for the Cardinals with Papa.” She laughed before giving me a small bow. “Where are my manners? My name is Caterina, I’m the head Sister of Sin.”

“A pleasure to meet you Caterina, I’m…” I started to say before she looked back at the mirror and cut me off. 

“I know who you are, Prime Mover.” Her tone turned slightly icy as she looked at me out of the corner of her eye. 

“Oh.” I mumbled, cheeks blushing as she looked me up and down with a critical eye. “I should probably head back…”

“Of course, you wouldn’t want to keep Papa waiting. He never was the type to wait patiently.” She smiled sweetly as she floated past me as my brows furrowed. “Please enjoy your stay here in Vatican City.”

“How do you know what Terzo is like?” I turned to ask her but she had already left the bathroom. 

…

“Ah, Cara Mia!” Terzo’s cheeks were flushed slightly with the wine he was drinking, dinner plates had been cleared while I was gone and dessert was being served as I joined the table again. “I was just about to send Cardinale to go and find you.”

“I’m fine, just got sidetracked is all.” I mumbled absentmindedly as I scanned the crowd for Caterina. She was seated at the Sister table closest to us, smiling and laughing with other senior siblings. My eyes narrowed slightly at her and I took a deep sip from my glass. 

“Amore?” Terzo’s voice was quiet as he leaned towards me as he spoke. “Stai bene?”

“Everything is fine, Terzo.” I brushed him off, trying to smile to reassure him. “I think the jet lag is finally catching up with me is all.”

“We can skip the after party, Tesoro.” He said, placing his hand on top of mine. “I’m sure the Cardinale would understand if you needed to rest before the big meeting tomorrow.”

“I’m fine, Terzo.” I sighed, eyes still watching Caterina’s movements as I sipped my wine. “I don’t want to give the Council a poor perception of me.”

“Whatever you wish, Amore.” Terzo withdrew his hand and leaned over to speak with Copia while I simmered in my seat, racking my brain to who this woman was to Terzo before.

“Ah, Sister. Welcome back,” Veritas’ voice was the last thing I wanted to hear and I had to hold back a groan. “My sister told me she was very pleased to have time to chat with you.”

“What?” My head whipped in his direction, eyes narrowed on him.

“Sister Caterina, she is my sister.” He gave me a smirk, gesturing with his head to the object of my irritation. 

Before I could formulate a response, Saltarian stood and dismissed the siblings and ghouls. He invited the senior clergy to follow him to the function room down the hall for some after dinner drinks and dancing. While he spoke, Veritas slipped away and joined his sister who locked eyes with me and smirked at me. Now seeing them standing together I couldn’t believe I was so dumb as to not recognize the resemblance, they could have been twins. 

“Sorella?” Copia’s voice was soft as I turned to look at him, hand outstretched to me. 

I graciously took it, standing and letting him tug me close as we waited for Terzo. He smiled sheepishly before taking my free arm and tucking it with his. We walked the three of us, following the other Cardinals and Saltarian to the room a few doors down from the dining hall. This space was far more intimate, about half the size of the dining hall. 

The back wall was almost entirely stained glass, the other walls had various works of art hanging on the walls. The space looked like it was normally used as an art gallery but someone had added in some cocktail tables, a small bar and a small quartet that had started playing music. The majority of the room was made of us older clergymen, many sitting and chatting amongst their brothers. However there were several younger members and Sisters mixed in. A few were paired up in couples and looked eager to start dancing. 

“Ah, Amore. Finally a chance to show off my dance skills.” Terzo teased, leaning in to murmur in my ear. “Though I doubt there will be much thrusting.”

“Papa who says you get to dance with Sorella first, eh?” Copia purred, tugging me towards him. “Last time I checked, one of us got formal training.”

“Come Cardinale, true dancing is not something you learn in lessons. It is something you do con emozione, si?”

I was distracted, nodding along as my two overgrown ten year olds teased and taunted each other about dance lessons. My eyes were following Cardinal Veritas and Caterina around the room. She dazzled, public speaking seeming to come to her naturally. She knew exactly who to act like a pious nun with and who to flirt a little with. 

She didn’t laugh too loud or go on too long about Latin translations than the conversation called for. I wasn’t sure if it was that I’d had too much to drink or if my mind was being particularly cruel to me tonight, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Lucifer had made the wrong call. Coming back from my mind wandering I could tell Terzo and Copia were still arguing about who would get to dance with me first. I couldn’t help the little small fond smile as I squeezed their arms and pulled them slightly closer to me. 

“Topolino?”

“Amore?”

“I’m glad you are both here with me.” I mumbled, cheeks flushed at the tender looks on their faces. 

“Sasso carta forbici?” Terzo suggested, Copia nodded before the threw out their first instinct. 

“Fanculo!” Terzo cursed. He’d chosen rock, Copia had thrown out paper. His face was far more smug than normal as he tugged on my hand, pulling me away from Terzo. 

“Fair is fair, Papa.” He teased while Terzo fliped him off as he pouted. I laughed, reaching to cup his cheek. 

“You can have the next one, Terzo.” I soothed before Terzo reached out and pressed a kiss to my bare wrist. I shivered at the lusty look in his eyes.

“Amore…I will have your last dance of the evening and every evening if tomorrow goes our way.”

“Papa, the Cardinals would like you to open the dance floor.” Veritas’ voice called out as he waved us over. I had to fight the growl back as I saw him standing with Caterina. “It is tradition after all.”

“Well, scusami Cardinale. I was hoping to sit the first dance out…” Terzo trailed off, looking at me as Copia gave him another smug smile. I rolled my eyes. 

“Nonsense, the first dance must be by Papa. If Sister is already occupied, you must pick another partner. May I suggest Caterina?” Cardinal Veritas crooned, practically shoving his sister into Terzo’s arms as he stepped toward the dance floor. 

Terzo looked at me helplessly as Caterina led him out onto the floor while the strings struck up a twinkling melody. Copia followed suit as Terzo began to swirl around the dance floor with another woman in his arms. I felt the rage bubbling in my chest as I watched him as Caterina tried to step closer towards Terzo but he maintained perfect form as they waltz around the floor. Caterina’s skirts billowed out as they twirled, a seductive smile on her face as she spoke lowly to Terzo. I couldn’t make out what they were saying and my heart clenched in my chest at the thought. 

“Stellina?” Copia’s voice was deep as he pulled my attention back to him. I smiled as my cheeks flushed, embarrassed at being caught. “Will you join me?”

“O-of course, I’m sorry I’m not all that great at dancing.” I mumbled as he put his hand on my waist, holding my hand delicately as I placed one on his shoulder and the other in his open palm. “I didn’t have much time for dancing in my life before all this or even the church.”

“I will make up for what you lack in experience, Amore. Just let me lead you, yes?”

“Yes, Cardinal.” He smirked at my use of his formal title before we began to follow the simple one, two, three of the beat and spun around the floor. Other guests had begun to pair up and follow in our steps, Terzo still in the center of the floor with Caterina. 

“You are distratto, Amore.” Copia murmured into my ear as he twirled me around, my dress ballooning outwards before swishing around my legs. “It couldn’t be because you are gelosa, no?”

“Me? Jealous? No, of course not…” I chuckled embarrassingly, cheeks flushed. “What would make you say that?”

“If you keep glaring at Rina like that, Sorella, she will burst into flames.” 

“Rina?” I narrowed my eyes at him, he had the decency to look sheepish. “I didn’t realize you were close with her either…”

“Amore. We grew up together here, it was so many years ago. Lifetimes ago.” He said, eyes growing warm with fondness as he took in my flushed cheeks and pulled me closer to him. He pressed a soft kiss to my hand he held in his own. “You were hell sent for us, Lucifer himself hand picked you. Papa knows this, I know this. Why would either of us look to vecchi amanti when we have a goddess awaiting us every night, hm?”

“Copia I…” I mumbled, face flushed even more as he spun me out dramatically before pulling me even closer to him. “I trust you, both of you. I just don’t trust her, there is something she is planning I can feel it. Something to discredit me.

“We will handle it, amore, together like we promised.”

The song came to a close, Copia dipping me and I couldn’t help the little giggles as he pressed a kiss to my forehead before helping me back onto my feet. 

“Let us go get a drink, Si?” Copia smiled, tucking my arm into his as we started to head towards the bar. That was till an arm snuck around my waist and pulled me backwards. 

“Not so fast, Tesoro. You promised me your second dance.” Terzo purred in my ear as he tugged me towards the dance floor. “That drink can wait.”

“Terzo!” I laughed as he pulled me close, his hand warm on my bare lower back even with his white gloves on. “Slow down, I’m going to trip.”

He had a wolfish grin as he began the dance, twirling me with more style than I thought I could keep up with. He held me tenderly, pulled closer than other dancing couples by far.

“I would not let you fall, Amore.” He purred, hand sliding to allow his pink to slip into my dress, brushing against the bare skin of my ass. Terzo groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. “Non indossi biancheria intima, piccola?”

I gave him a wicked grin and shook my head no, I heard him curse under his breath as hand pressing me against him as we twirled. 

“Sarai la mia morte, Amato.” He growled, pressing a warm kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I want to take you back to my rooms and make you beg for me.”

“Say the word and we can ditch this party, Papa.” I purred in his ear, his hand holding mine tensed up like he was fighting the urge to just drag me from the room. 

“Let us finish this dance, get a few drinks, and I am sure nobody would notice if we went missing, si?” He hissed in my ear, taking a pause in the steps to press his hardening cock against my thigh, a shiver running up my spine. “I’m sure Cardinale would join us too.”

My heart soared, I had forgotten in my melancholy that Terzo wanted me just as much as I wanted him. He hadn’t been tricked or forced into this just because I was a prime mover. My mind wandered back to all the moments in the early mornings he had held me, tangled limbs and sweet words between us. My cheeks flushed as I thought about all the times he’d praised me while he gently rocked against me or when he would fuck me till I couldn’t see straight. 

I’d always known there was the unspoken truth between us. The longing looks in the hallways, the notes I’d find left on my workstation in the library, the times he would mumble into my skin after we’d curled around each other and chased our bliss in the other's body. While later I was sure I would place the blame for my confession on the amount of wine I had drank earlier that night, I surged forward knowing tomorrow all of this could be taken away from me. I didn’t want that to happen before I was able to tell Terzo the truth. 

“T-terzo..?” I mumbled, suddenly shy.

“Si?”

“I…I…IthinkI’mfallinginlovewithyou.” I blurted, looking to the floor as we twirled one final time. The dance coming to a close, we paused in the middle of the floor as the couples around us politely clapped. Terzo stood there, mouth slightly agape, with his eyes locked on me. “T-terzo?”

He didn’t say anything, surging forward and pulling me into his arms. His fingers tangled in the loose curls at the base of my hairline as he kissed me firmly. I let out a squeak of surprise before my hand came to rest on his warm chest. Terzo tilted my head, cradling it gently as he pulled away. His mismatched gaze was heated but soft as he smiled a genuine grin. 

“I thought you would never say it, Amore.” He sighed. “Ti ho amato dalla prima volta che ti ho visto giurare il tuo servizio a Lucifero con mio fratello.” I've loved you since I first saw you swearing your service to Lucifer with my brother.

“Terzo, people are staring…” I squirmed, feeling the eyes of the partygoers on us, Terzo was unfazed. 

“I love you too, Sorella.” He continued, tugging my hand as he lead me to the side. I grinned like an idiot, cheeks flushed and eyes feeling like they were going to water any moment. “Let them stare, I do not care. Tonight calls for celebration, for tomorrow we do not know what will happen.”

…

Terzo and I celebrated a little too much. 

Copia had been speaking to Saltarian off to the side, I wasn’t sure what was going on but I was so caught up in my post-confession high I didn’t think to seek him out. When he did come and find us he looked relieved for a moment before taking in the sight of Terzo and I curled up on a sofa; the two of us drunk off our asses with wandering hands and giggling like children. The good news for us was that the party was winding down, most of the older clergy had already gone to bed. There were only a few siblings, Cardinal Veritas, Copia, Saltarian, Caterina, Terzo and I left. 

“What has gotten into you two, eh?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose but I could see the small warm smile he tried to hide. 

“We are celebrating!” I cheered, throwing my hands up and almost falling from Terzo’s lap. Copia surging forward to catch me by my arms. 

“Celebrating? Festeggiare cosa?” Copia turned to Terzo who, while he looked more sober than I, was plastered. 

“Sorella finally admitted what we all knew, that she is completely in love con me.” He crooned, hand possessively coming to my neck which caused me to shudder and lean into his touch. “Il che significa che ho vinto la scommessa, Cardinale.” Which means I won the bet, Cardinal.

“È così, fratello?” Copia’s eyes were locked on mine, a dangerous heat in them. I squirmed under the weight and tried to look away. “Is that true, Sorella…hm?”

“Well I…I didn’t want to go into tomorrow without being honest with you both.” I mumbled, cheeks flushing as I was finally able to tear my eyes away from him. 

“Hm. I see.” His voice was low, I felt two fingers slip under my chin, tilting my head back to lock eyes with him. “ed io? Cosa provi per me, principessa?”

“I…I…” I stuttered, eyes glassy as I took in Copia kneeling in front of me, his eyes dark and stormy with a smirk on his face. “Fuck.”

“Hm, fuck indeed Sorella.” He chuckled.

“Well now if I say it then it feels like it's not special.” I whined, unable to help the childish pout that popped up. Copia chuckled darkly, taking my hand and tugging me from Terzo’s lap.

“Come you two, it is time for bed. We will have a long day ahead of us.” He sighed, tugging Terzo onto his feet as well before leaning in between us to mumble for us. “I have many ideas on how to punish you two for leaving me out of this confessionale, hm?”

Terzo and I locked eyes and both had stupid grins on our faces as we followed Copia obediently through the halls. It was quiet besides the sound of our shoes on the marble, I was still drunk and I couldn’t help myself to fill the silence. 

“Terzo?”

“Si, mio amore?” 

“If she touches you again, I’m going to rip her hair out.” I said sweetly, stepping into the double doors of our suite. Copia burst into laughter, smacking my ass as I passed him on the way in. 

“Who?” Terzo looked confused as he slightly slurred his words, I glared at him with my hands on my hips. 

“Caterina, Terzo.” I hissed as I kicked off my shoes and stumbled my way to the bedroom, Copia and Terzo hot on my heels. 

“Amore…I’ve never seen you like this…I like it.” Terzo purred, hands sliding around my waist and tugging me to him. 

I felt his cock hard against my ass and I whimpered as I ground back against him. Terzo leaned to press sloppy kisses to my neck as he untied the velvet ties there. The dress slipped forward slightly as his quick fingers pushed the sleeves down my arms. I arched into his touch as his hands slid from my shoulders to my waist where he was able to quickly undo the zipper. The heavy gown fell to the floor with a thump and Terzo, ever the gentleman, helped me step out of it. I was standing in his arms, naked. 

“Do not encourage her Terzo.” Copia’s voice startled me, my eyes opened and I noticed he was standing in front of me. “Sorella is a good girl, no?”

He had removed his gloves, I could feel his fingertips dusting against my skin as he cupped my aching breasts. His thumbs brushing against my pebbling nipples, I arched into his touch and whimpered as Terzo’s hands gripped my hips roughly. He tugged me back against him, rutting his cock against my ass. I could feel how hard he was though his tight trousers. 

“She is always a good girl for Papa, Cardinale.” Terzo murmured in my ear as I panted, Copia leaning to nip and suck at my collarbone as I shuddered between them. “Come, Sorella. Show your papas how good you can be, eh?”

Oh sweet Satan, I was going to die tonight

[denimbex1986]

'...it was Fanning’s work as a Charles Manson acolyte in Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywood that convinced writer-director Steven Zaillian (Schindler’s List) she would be the perfect Marge Sherwood in his eight-part series Ripley, a provocative adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 novel The Talented Mr. Ripley. An aspiring writer whose understated confidence exudes the air of upper-crust society, Marge is a constant companion of Dickie Greenleaf (Johnny Flynn), the errant playboy who is suddenly orbited by an odd stranger named Tom Ripley, played bewitchingly by Andrew Scott. Where others are taken in by the suave grifter, Marge can sense that the man is not what he seems.

Fanning jumped at the chance to play the character and take on the challenges associated with the role — not least of which was learning Italian prior to the months-long location shoot that visited Rome, Venice, Palermo, Capri, and Atrani on the Amalfi Coast. Perhaps the greatest artistic thrill, she says, was working opposite Scott in the confrontational moments between Tom and Marge: “I knew that it would be really fun to do those scenes with Andrew — and it was.”

Krista Smith: What drew you to Ripley and why did you want to play Marge Sherwood?

Dakota Fanning: Having eight hours to explore these characters that you think you know, whether through the book or through the [1999] film adaptation, I was like, “Oh, that’s going to be amazing.” I was such an admirer of Steve and of Andrew. So when I [was cast as] Marge, I was overcome with excitement. Just hearing Steve’s vision and how devoted he was to the story, you knew that you were going to be supported. He’s so detailed, you were always going to know exactly where you stood. And that’s what I like as an actor.

Watching your back-and-forth with Andrew Scott is mesmerizing. How was that to play some of those scenes and what was happening between takes?

DF: There were some moments where we were so [in character that we just wanted] the other one to drop dead. Steve would cut, and Andrew and I [would say to each other], “You bitch!” Then we’d crack up. We had to bring that play and joy to it. The tension between the two of us [would be so palpable] that when “cut” would happen, my whole body would relax. That energy is harder than running all day. So, I loved it. I was happy to not just be a pawn in Tom’s game as Marge. You see her own opportunistic tendencies come out sometimes and you explore that vanity in her as well. I think that’s deeply human.

Ultimately, in this series you’re exploring people and what people are capable of. You almost feel like you’re reading everyone’s thoughts through their eyes, which is what I like to do as an actor — finding what’s underneath and not focusing on the exterior.

You shot all over Italy, and so much of the aesthetic of that country plays through. How does being immersed in that kind of environment influence your performance?

DF: It’s really comforting. Having the luxury of actually being where it’s written that you’re supposed to be, that’s a rarity these days. So I didn’t take any of that for granted. It was a lot of hard work from a lot of different people.

I once found Steve rearranging the knitting needles in the knitting basket in [Marge’s] house. There’s that closeup of the knitting basket and it’s this perfect mess, [which] says something about Marge. It’s all for a reason. Every shot is important, every moment is important, every costume is important. I’ve been doing this a long time, and a lot of the time, it’s hurry, hurry, hurry and rush, rush, rush. That was not ever said [here]. Watching [the series] was a very moving experience for me because it all came full circle. You see how him rearranging those knitting needles did do something, and you think, Whoa...'

[missyourflight]

some stuff i read and watched in september:

my brilliant friend (s1-3): had a bit of ferrante fever and rinsed through this, i think it's v well done as an adaptation -- it's been so long since i read the first couple of books that the casting of the lads made them feel much more vivid than i remembered, also i Need to go to florence

foundation (s2): honestly entertainment peaked with deranged space emperor clone lee pace spitting blood in ben daniels' face and snarling i fucking love it, hope to see it back in 2-3 years probably!

the gold: finally got around to this bc they were talking about it on the watch lol, very cool the way it sort of sprawls out from the original heist and just keeps going, classic dcoop sketchiness, still mulling over casting jack lowden as lymond bc what other blonde scottish actors even are there

starstruck (s3): ROSE MATAFEO FOREVER etc. this season pretty much an anti-romcom which i'm on board with, the friendship stuff fucked me up, not to get into but phew re: being single in your thirties while all your friends are having kids etc

passages: really liked this but somehow didn't love it quite as much as i expected to, franz ben adele perfect, whishaw really come full circle since basically playing the franz role in cock at the royal court lol, beautiful knitwear outfits homewares

the best years of our lives: like 3 hours long but doesn't feel it, quietly devastatingly empathetic story of returning ww2 veterans, i need to watch the five come back series on netflix bc william wyler is so so good

a haunting in venice: i would also like to go to venice, kenbran's having fun at least my dutch angle king, i hope they keep letting him make these forever although i also rewatched tenet and nothing here tops the part where he jogs slowly backwards through time

the broken hearts gallery: the best of a bunch of recent-ish romances i watched, geraldine viswanathan is a Star

michael clayton: somehow hadn't seen this before but very satisfying like corporate thriller, tom wilkinson and tilda are great, i want to rewatch andor now

elena ferrante, the story of the lost child: finally finished the neapolitan novels, fuck me up elena. can't think of a comparable series of like adult novels that go this hard for me, maybe st aubyn? yowl

colin walsh, kala: this ripped actually, loved like the irish specificity of the voices

james frankie thomas, idlewild: literally took critical damage every time i had to read the word HoYay but this was great and painful about like being a horrible little queer teenager and codependent friendships and livejournal and annotated fanfiction etc

marilynne robinson, gilead: ow i loved this, i think it's a real skill to make like goodness compelling, looking forward to being devastated by the rest of the series etc

sylvia townsend warner, lolly willowes: 🧙‍♀️🍂🌝

katie kitamura, intimacies: more things should be set at the courts in the hague tbh! made me think about translation a lot and also black earth rising

cat sebastian, we could be so good: sometimes you just want to read a gay romance about being in love with your best friend innit

operation mincemeat: omg i actually went to the theatre, this was silly and very much The British Hamilton but i loved it and i cried and i ordered drinks to my seat, 5 stars etc

the effect: i didn't see the original billie piper staging but i love lucy prebble and i loved this cast, literally paapa essiedu can do anything, kobna holdbrook smith reminded me that i should carry on with the rivers of london audibooks, one in a long list of signs that i should probably talk to someone about my mental health lol

[beni75]

Photos and texts: @gardarolafsphotography

1-. Hvalsneskirkja church in Sandgerdi South, Iceland

2-. Hvítserkur is a 15 meters high basalt stack along the eastern shore of the Vatnsnes peninsula, located in northwest Iceland. Severeal species of birds such ad Gulls and Fulmars live on it

3-. Kerid seen from above! Kerid is a volcanic crater lake located in the Grímsnes area in south Iceland, on the popular tourist route known as the Golden Circle

4-. Landmannalaugar

5-. Looking forward to the next Aurora Borealis season here in Iceland, only a few months to go!

6-. Miss this place so much! Venice, Italy

7-. y 8-. Mount Kirkjufell, Iceland

9-. Pure icelandic landscape on the way to Landmannalaugar

10-. Sitting on top of Godafoss waterfall in Iceland

11-. Skógafoss waterfall. Iceland

12-. Sky full of stars. Reykjanes, Iceland

13-. Sunset in North Iceland

14-. Sunset on Reykjanes peninsula. Iceland

15-. The amazing Seljalandsfoss waterfall seen from above!

16-. The art of nature. Iceland

17-. The beautiful Godafoss waterfall, one of my favorite falls in Iceland

18-. The beauty is not hard to find here in Iceland

19-. The Blue Lagoon, Iceland

20-. The dramatic landscape of South Iceland

21-. The midnight sun, Iceland

22-. The night fog covering up the mountains in Norh Iceland

23-. The Northern Lighthouse at Reykjanes peninsula, Iceland

24-. The powerful Aldeyjarfoss waterfall seen from above, located in North Iceland

25-. The top of Mount Kirkjufell. Iceland

26-. This is me exploring Aldeyjarfoss waterfall, what an amazing sight. Iceland

27-. Thorsmork. Iceland

28-. Top view of Kerid, this is how the birds see it

29-. y 30-. Godafoss waterfall, North Iceland

[worthless-weight-in-gold]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 — BOLD / ITALICIZE what applies.

because this is for b, i'm doing bold for bruce and italicize for brucie and both for, well, both

𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries.

𝚅𝙸𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻𝚂

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint.

tagged by @draconisa and @bloodrodeo !!

tagging: idk who has and hasnt done this bc ive been gone for a bit so if you've already done it ignore this/do a diff muse <3 @full-tiltboogie @hellfollowed @detectivewoof @sioraiocht @godstrayed @fasciinating

[hellfollowed]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 — BOLD / ITALICIZE what applies.

Bold for Luce / Italicized for Mick / both for both lol

SOUNDS.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries.

VISUALS.

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

SCENTS.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint.

tagged by: @worthless-weight-in-gold

tagging: @spicyundead, @full-tiltboogie, @escapedartgeek, @dxsole, @welcometothevale and anyone else who wants to do it! Tell 'em I sent ya!