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amethvysts · 8 months ago

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NOSSO AMOR ESTAVA ESCRITO NAS ESTRELAS — E. VOGRINCIC.

𖥻 sumário: análise do mapa astral do enzo. 𖥻 avisos: papo astrológico. red flags !! achou que pode conter alguns gatilhos, mesmo que seja só por humor & piadas.

💭 nota da autora: como prometido, cá está o mapa do enzo! a minha análise não é 100% precisa porque não sou astróloga profissional, só fiz porque me interesso e estudo sobre. não tá revisado pq eu tô doente, então ignorem as palavras repetidas pls. also, não mandem mapa, tá? kkkk eu gosto de analisar, mas é bem trabalhoso e eu não tenho tempo de fazer de todo mundo. se tiverem interesse, indico o café astrology!

SOL EM ÁRIES Estar num papel de liderança é natural para ele, mesmo que não queira, sempre acaba assumindo a responsabilidade. Todo mundo escuta ele, é simples assim. Essa questão de tomar as rédeas nas situações também fala sobre a maneira que ele tem de demonstrar carinho. Também pode fazer dele um pouco convencido demais por achar que é só fazer o que ele diz pra dar certo; super vejo ele como uma pessoa que diz "eu te avisei" sempre que você não dá ouvidos aos conselhos que dá.

Acredito que esteja muito em contato com a própria individualidade, e justamente por isso, chama atenção – me lembra até uma frase do Bob Dylan (não sei se é dele mesmo, but anyways): tudo o que posso fazer é ser eu, seja lá quem for. Também acho que pode ser um pouco individualista em certas situações, preferindo trabalhar sozinho.

O sol, na astrologia, fala da nossa essência e tá em exaltação em Áries, e sendo um signo cardinal, tem como características a iniciativa, ambição, entusiasmo e independência, mas também fala da pressa e impulsividade. Não se cansa enquanto não alcançar seus objetivos e é apaixonado por aquilo que faz. Pra mim, entendo que ele não gosta de gastar tempo com aquilo que não gosta. Um trabalho bem feito é resultado de paixão. É muito enérgico, tanto que mesmo com o ar calmo, ele tá sempre se movendo de alguma forma (as pernas quase abrindo um espacate, por exemplo). Acho que essa coisa da gente achar ele muito sério também vem do sol em Áries; geralmente, homens arianos tem uma personalidade um tanto seca.

Fica gostoso com roupas de academia porque o sol é literalmente regido pelo deus da guerra. Acho que mesmo que ele não malhasse, ainda teria os músculos bem definidos. E provavelmente o pau é mediano, mas mais largo do que o comum. Acho que ele acha um tesão agir de uma maneira mais masculina e dominante. É do tipo que vê a parceira como uma posse (mas não de uma maneira tóxica ok!), realmente aquele nosso headcanon dele querer uma esposa troféu tem grandes chances de ser real. E vamos acabar um pouco com o clima aqui porque o Enzo também pode ser bem exigente sobre a aparência da parceira, então o nosso outro headcanon dele se atrair mais por loiras padrões também tem muitas chances de ser real. But anyway! Fica de quatro por mulher que se faz de difícil, e ama esse joguinho de cão e rato. Muito, muito, muito passional! E também é o rei das rapidinhas e gosta de manter contato visual durante toda a transa; provavelmente tem praise kink.

— casa 07.

Boatos de que esse posicionamento significa que esses nativos são mais propensos a se divorciarem.

Mas tendo em mente de que a casa sete é a casa dos relacionamentos, e de libra, vejo que ela suaviza um pouco as características mais agressivas do Sol em Áries do nosso querido. Também faz com que ele seja muito "gostável", ganhando o apoio e amor das pessoas simplesmente por ser uma pessoa bem-querida mesmo. É esperto e muito criativo!

Pra ele, relacionamentos são essenciais para expandir a identidade e a própria vida. Também me lembra muito daquela frase que viralizou do "eu sou todos os livros que já li, todos que já conheci, todas as músicas que já escutei…", mas também pode significar uma maior probabilidade de dependência emocional e necessidade de validação.

É muito amigável, mesmo que a gente veja que é bem reservado. Tem tendência a se sacrificar pelos outros e é muito bom com pessoas em geral, sendo bem diplomático.

— grau 2.

Grau de Touro. A essência dele tá muito conectada ao uso da própria voz e a dinheiro, ou seja, ele ter se tornado ator e ganhado um papel muito grande como em LSDLN, não é muito de surpreender. Também fala sobre ser o melhor em alguma coisa, então Enzo sempre tenta se aperfeiçoar na arte da atuação porque é o seu maior objetivo.

LUA EM PEIXES Artístico, sensível, espiritual, filosófico. E quando eu digo sensível, eu quero dizer muito sensível mesmo. É do tipo que deve sentir horrores e todos os sentimentos que sente são intensos. Enxergo ele como uma pessoa que tem a cabeça no lugar, então acho que ele teve que aprender como tempo (e com muita terapia) a como lidar com todas essas coisas que sente. É bem reflexivo, e quando tá muito estressado, pede licença para se afastar e racionalizar tudo aquilo que tá sentindo. Vejo ele como uma pessoa que tá a beira de um colapso, aí quando se afasta e pensa um pouco, já volta com a solução de todos os problemas. Também vê a arte como um mecanismo de expressão. Inclusive, acho que ele acaba falando mais sobre os próprios sentimentos através de pinturas, fotografias e pela escrita do que a gente imagina. Acho que ele também tem essa coisa de pensar que as coisas são mais intensas e profundas do que realmente são; vejo ele como um grande romântico nesse sentido.

Tem a tendência de acreditar demais nas pessoas, e pode ser um pouco inocente quando se trata dos outros. Meio que cria expectativas muito grandes e acaba de decepcionando. A cara de coitado não é à toa porque ele ama se fazer de tadinho, dependendo da situação.

Esse posicionamento também se manifesta na casa das relações.

ASCENDENTE EM LEÃO Ascendente fala de como nos apresentamos ao mundo e a ideia que as pessoas têm de nós. Olhos doces e bondosos. Tal qual um leão, o cabelo é como uma juba (Caetano escreveu O Leãozinho pra ele!). Regido pelo sol, é claro que vai chamar atenção aonde quer que vá – vale lembrar rapidinho que o sol, na mitologia grega, fala de Apolo, o deus das artes. Destemido. Tem um ar de elegância, como um príncipe mesmo. Trendsetter! É uma celebridade acidental, porque mesmo com a energia magnética, ainda é tímido e bastante reservado. Simplesmente exala confiança e se destaca. Provavelmente se solta mais numa roda de amigos, chegando até a falar mais alto e fazer várias piadas. Uma coisa interessante é que eu acho que essa necessidade de ser sempre elogiado vem do fato das pessoas sempre elogiarem ele, de graça.

Temperamento de gato, no caso dele, o preto. Ai, e com certeza deve ter umas fofocas muito cabeludas que aconteceram na vida dele/estão acontecendo/vão acontecer, mas ele deixa tudo muito na surdina.

MERCÚRIO EM PEIXES Sabe porque ele ama fazer aqueles posts com os textos em que ninguém entende nada? É por causa desse mercúrio aqui. É o planeta da comunicação, do impulso intelectual e do raciocínio. Por isso, Enzo tem uma abordagem mais… filosófica e sensível com as suas palavras. Tem uma alma de velho, muito sábia. Se encanta com tudo o que é belo e gentil.

O lado criativo muito aflorado dele talvez faça com que tarefas mais mundanas se tornem sem graça. A comunicação dele é bem intuitiva e emocional, e ele talvez sinta dificuldade com atividades mais lógicas e com muitos detalhes. Também acho que ele já se ligou que tem a tendência de ser mal compreendido sempre que tenta se expressar, e por isso toma muito cuidado com tudo o que fala. Pensa duas, três, quatro vezes antes de finalmente exprimir uma ideia ou fazer uma piada. Acho que só se sente mais leve quando tá com seus amigos próximos e familiares.

A voz calminha e melódica também é graças a esse posicionamento.

Também cai na casa 7, o que significa que é orientado pelas próprias relações e gosta de agradar. É bem comum que ele saia distribuindo elogios e que seja bem diplomático, justamente porque tem a necessidade de fazer com que as pessoas se sintam bem e que gostem dele – mesmo que isso aconteça naturalmente.

MARTE EM CÂNCER Aqui, Marte tá em detrimento.

Muito apaixonado pela família e quer ser o provedor da casa, simplesmente porque é uma das maneiras que tem de mostrar afeto e carinho. Tem o desejo de começar uma família, um dia, mesmo que seja através da adoção de um gatinho. De novo, tem grandes tendências a ser emocional nas próprias decisões. Também é bem protetor, principalmente com aqueles que ama. Pode ser que reaja de maneira muito dramática dependendo da situação, e é bem reativo.

Compassivo. Gosta de relacionamentos sérios e seguros. Se quiser conquistar o querido, é só mostrar que pode entendê-lo e fazê-lo sentir amado.

Sinto muito, divas, mas o homi realmente é needy bf e nada daquilo que a gente imaginou. Não gosta de inconsideração, manipulação e pessoas que tem anger issues. Essas são as principais red flags pra ele. Odeia mentirosos. No entanto, ele mesmo pode ter alguns problemas em expressar a própria raiva. Não sei se inventei essa informação, mas ele provavelmente faz muita terapia kkkk Pode ter tido bastante dificuldade em balancear esse lado mais feminino, e foi aprendendo com o tempo. Passivo-agressivo quando quer, e é do tipo que fala sem pensar no momento da raiva.

Quando tá naquele êxtase, além de rasgar elogios sobre o corpo da parceira, é provável que deixe um "eu te amo" escapar. Pode ser conquistado em dois tempos se você elogiar e amaciar o ego dele o suficiente. Se pudesse, passaria o dia inteiro na cama com a parceira; tudo acaba se misturando, o cafuné do pós-sexo, as preliminares e o ato em si. É como se não tivesse fim com ele, principalmente porque ele te envolve. Talvez tenha um pezinho na submissão. Praise kink e breeding kink. Gosta de parceiras que compreendam sua sensibilidade e sua complexidade emocional. Ama vulnerabilidade e intimidade. Também acha um tesão se você sugerir cuidar dele, principalmente na cama. Gosta de edging. É da turma do slow-burn!

Romântico, protetor, sensual. Precisa de uma conexão emocional pra conseguir transar. Pode extravasar as próprias emoções durante o sexo, principalmente se estiver com raiva.

— casa 11. Aqui, o Marte dele cai na casa da paixão, energia, direcionada aos grupos de amigos e sua comunidade. Sente necessidade de ter relações próximas, íntimas, com as pessoas, sejam amigos ou parceiros. Também me faz pensar que ele é muito monogâmico porque ele gosta de uma relação um-a-um. É, provavelmente, o líder dos grupos de amigos que faz parte (o nosso Bolinha uruguaio). Tem mais amigos homens do que mulheres.

Apesar de ser muito emocional, também sente necessidade em racionalizar os próprios sentimentos. Tenta não ser impulsivo nas próprias reações, como uma maneira de se poupar e poupar os outros de uma dor de cabeça desnecessária.

VÊNUS EM ÁRIES Chegamos ao mais polêmico! Aqui Vênus tá em detrimento (te entendo, meu divo).

Muito, muito, muito passional. Relaciona romance a ação, mesmo que seja bem reservado e até um tanto tímido. Ai, galera, o mapa do divo tá revelando que ele realmente é só um homem patético. Se apaixona rápido, mas também desapaixona em meio tempo se sente que não tá indo pra frente. Se gostar mesmo da pessoa, não se importa em carregar corrente porque gosta de sentir o frio na barriga e o coração acelerando. Possessivo e meio obsessivo, também. Sinceramente? You take my hand and drag me headfirst, fearless.

Como eu já falei, justamente porque ele precisa dessa conexão emocional, penso que Enzo vê o sexo como uma maneira de mostrar o quanto ama a parceira. Seja numa rapidinha (que ele ama) ou num lovezinho mais lento, foder = prova de amor pra ele.

Uma coisa que me chamou atenção é que a Vênus dele, na verdade, é retrógrada. Isso significa que ele tem grandes tendências a ser mais tímido (uauu, contei um super segredo) desde novinho, e pode ser que ainda exista aquele arzinho de adolescente meio awkward, diferentão, sabe? Pode ser que tenha algumas inseguranças que tenta não mostrar, e que com o tempo, aprendeu a esconder e suprimir. Vai demorar um bommm tempo pra casar. Não é alguém que se abre facilmente, mesmo que necessite de conexões. Mas, também, depois que deixa a parceira entrar…

— casa 09.

Pode ser uma coisa meio controversa, mas a casa nove tá ligada ao signo de Sagitário, e dessa forma, as filosofias, tradições, lado espiritual, aventuras. Assim, ele projeta muito na parceira, no nível False God da Taylor mesmo. Já falei, mas repito, ele tende a criar muita expectativa.

Mas também vê o amor como algo maior que a própria vida, e acho que por isso ele tende a ser tão reservado com estranhos. Se interessa, sim, pelo lado espiritual do mundo.

Pode acabar com uma parceira que venha de um país diferente, ou que tenha sido criada de uma maneira diferente da dele, porque se interessa por culturas diferentes e por viagens. Quer se educar sobre os mais diversos lugares, e busca por novidades. É apaixonado por aprender.

ASPECTOS QUE CHAMAM ATENÇÃO Vênus em quadratura com Marte: pode se manifestar como dificuldades na intimidade das relações. É passional e magnético, gosta de se arriscar, mas também pode ter problemas de temperamento. Pode ter sentido como se não pertencesse a um grupo enquanto estava crescendo, e sempre se sentiu como o diferentão. Não gosta que as pessoas o entendam mal, e quer que gostem dele. Com o passar do tempo, ele foi reconhecendo/vai reconhecer essa necessidade de agradar, que é preciso escolher as suas batalhas, sem ser tão oito ou oitenta. Propenso a possessividade e ciúmes.

Sol em conjuntura com Lua: a identidade dele pode estar muito ligada aos aspectos emocionais. É um aspecto harmonioso, porque fala que existe um equilíbrio entre os dois, fazendo com que Enzo se expresse de maneira autêntica.

#⋆ ࣪. amethvysts ۫ ⁎#papos místicos com liv #lsdln #enzo vogrincic

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rinnsverse · 1 year ago

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COFFEE: PG.08 — Realization

COFFEE: Tim Drake x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Tim meets a barista that gives him what he needed most — a large coffee with way to many shots of espresso. Though what happens when just a single action changes the other's life, forever?

TW: a karen karening and not respecting pronouns, online discourse caused by said Karen (twitter being twitter) lemme know if I missed anything

coffee master list || prev. || next

SUNDAY, APRIL 7 2023 — 9:32 PM

A NORMAL EVENING one would say was happening in the current life of Y/N L/N; except it really wasn’t.

“I really, don’t understand why you can’t just redo my order! I specifically asked for chocolate drizzle, not caramel. Why is that so hard to understand?!”

“Uh, ma’am. I did in fact tell you that we were out of chocolate drizzle and asked if you were fine with caramel, to which you answered: ‘yeah, whatever,’” you forced a smile as politely as you could.

“Oh! So you’re giving me attitude now,” she loudly scoffed.

“No, that was just me repeating what you said.”

“I will not stand for this false accusation and blatant disrespect!”

‘Oh a big word. Didn’t know she knew how to do that.’

Fortunately, a familiar figure entered the café; eye bags evident as ever.

“Oh good. Tim Drake, someone actually competent around here, this cashier, worker, whatever! Is refusing to remake my drink after he made it wrong!” the woman huffed out.

Tim eyebrows furrowed in confusion - ‘I don’t even work here,’ - looking towards you for a different explanation.

“Uh, it’s they - I have it on my name tag - and I informed you that we were out of chocolate drizzle and you accepted caramel as a substitute.”

“Okay, how about we all just discuss this outside,” Tim offered gently pushing the lady towards the door.

“Ugh fine,” she loudly declared, stomping over to the door.

“Great, do you have the keys?” Tim asked you once she was out the door waiting.

‘Oh so that’s what he’s doing.’

“Yeah hold on,” you said walking out from behind the counter and taking your keys out of your pocket and heading over to the door to lock it.

As you inserted the keys to lock the door, the lady locked out looked at you - appalled.

“Alrighty, so do you want your usual?” you tilted your head towards your favorite customer.

“Yes please. But before that I’ll have to head to the bathroom, I have Karen germs on me now,” he grimaced heading towards the other side of the café.

Nodding your head, you return to your spot behind the register before taking out your phone.

TIMESKIP — 12:01 AM

As you were closing up shop, your mind began to wander to places you thought you forgot about long ago.

‘Do I actually like Tim that way? I mean, I know a lot of people do but we actually have a physical connection and I’d like to say we’re more than acquaintances, right? I mean he said that I’m his favorite barista so that has to mean something and he’s my favorite customer. But are you sure it’s not because he gives you a $20 tip? I… think? Oh damn am I really that shallow? Wait, do I actually like a guy named Tim?’

‘Eh whatever. These feelings will pass by and be buried just like the rest of my crushes… right? I mean like he’s pretty, he’s not an ass, he knows how to get rid of annoying customers, but- ugh. I hate this. Why do feeling feel?!’

As you unlock the door to your apartment you exasperatedly put your stuff down and flop your body on the couch in front of your TV.

‘…so theoretically, if I did have feelings for Tim… would I do anything about them? Should I do anything about them?’

Looking up from your face plant onto the couch cushions, you let out a groan, “Man… so that shit is definitely not theoretical huh?”

‘KNOCK. KNOCK.’

Lifting up your whole body to look at the sliding glass door that lead to your balcony you see that it was none other than a non-caped bluesader with Cardinal Red Robin carried underneath his arm.

You both stared at each other through the glass for a moment; Nightwing knocking on the glass every 10 seconds, before rolling your body off the couch and opening the door for the malnourished man to be plopped into your arms.

“That’s two IOU’s Nightwing.”

SPECIAL NOTE: so schools starting back up for me which means that I’m probably gonna start updating more often 🤭 Oh and I also used an app this time to make the tweets instead of a site; woohoo ig

TAGLIST: @grandstrangerphantom @marsbars09 @fabitheraven @lovelypitasworld @dyjcksn @mae77eris @sugarrush-blush @djchik @soundsfunbutno @apizzacalledmel @strangetrashblog @cipheress-to-k-pop @harleycao [ if your name isn’t highlighted then I wasn’t able to tag you. if you would like to join, feel free to send me an ask or to comment! ]

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zombiequeenblog · 9 months ago

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Cardinal and Mouse — 9: A kiss in public.

However that looks for them... ❤️

Here's a little bit of Cardinal and Mouse (and Terzo) running errands down in the village on a gloomy day:

ao3 link here or continue reading below...

The wind played about our ankles as we walked together, the Cardinal in his black robes, me looking rather like a catholic school student, as usual. My clothes muted; black alice band in my hair. I tried to match his grim but sharp silhouette when we were out in town like this. A rare but necessary occurrence at times; there were errands to run, and though we didn’t go preaching on street corners, we were also not an order of anchorites. Sister Imperator wanted the abbey’s residents to be seen about from time to time, so we weren’t completely forgotten way back in the woods. I wanted to remain respectable but demure so as not to attract unwanted attention.

Our shoes clipped along the sidewalk, damp with remnants of an earlier rain, and I quietly reached out to hold his gloved hand for security. I wasn’t ashamed to be with him, but our satanic faith was rare, and though many came from far and wide to join the abbey, the local village could be unwelcoming, still, as the grey clouds above were. We shouldn’t have left our coats in the car.

Copia squeezed my hand as I skipped around a puddle. “Why don’t you sit in the back with me on our return, dolce?”

Smoothing my skirt down, I thought I heard the ghost of a complaint in his tone, and I smiled slyly to myself as I answered him. “Oh, I couldn’t, Your Eminence,” I said, casually, “Papa would never allow it.” Insisting on me riding shotgun, Terzo had driven the three of us into town earlier; I think he liked to show off his driving skills, to my amusement and the Cardinal’s irritation.

“Wouldn’t allow… Quell’idiota! I forbid you from listening to anything that deficiente says!” Copia yanked me closer by the hand as we walked, his grip like a vice.

I only stifled a giggle, saying nothing. I could spot Terzo up ahead, exiting the local Christian bookstore as he slicked his hair back with a flourish and a frown. He looked jarring to me without his full face paint on, and he certainly didn’t blend in here, wearing his fancy and rather old-fashioned suit and gloves. He strode towards us, and we met by the steps of a little café. “Sorellina! Cardinal.”

“Did you find what you needed, Papa?” I teased. I knew perfectly well that Terzo liked to browse the religious shelves, attracting the shy attentions of the pretty shop girl in there. Perhaps attracting a future convert.

Perhaps not. “I need a coffee,” Papa pouted, and he went up the steps into the charming building, holding the door open for us as we followed, tiny bell chiming above our heads.

The little café was quaint and cute inside, warm, and thankfully not too crowded. Still though, I noticed the idle chatter around us quieting as we made our way over to the counter. Papa ordered three cappuccinos in a courteous tone, which were made quicker when I pulled out the impressively matte abbey credit card to pay.

“Thank you,” I told the woman behind the counter when she put our drinks up. She looked at me with concern, and flicked her eyes in suspicion at my companions, resting her narrowing gaze on Copia’s shiny grucifix for a second. He slipped his hand around my waist as we left the counter, looking both amused and annoyed. Terzo picked an empty table in a shadowed corner.

The Cardinal pulled out a chair for me and I sat, removing the lid from my cup with cold fingertips to let the steaming foam cool. “It’s nice to have something fancy now and then,” I remarked, looking down at my drink, the top mottled with cinnamon.

“We should get one of those espresso machines,” said Copia, dourly, as he sat down beside me, removing his biretta.

“I’ll ask Sister,” I said, leaning forward to blow lightly on the foam.

Terzo gave me a withering look from across the table. “If this sludge in a paper cup is fancy to you, piccolina, I don’t even know where to begin pitying your previous life.” He looked around at the dimly lit furnishings. “Father in hell, how long did you suffer wilting in this village? I should have baptized you earlier.”

I grinned contentedly as I took my first sip, not bothering to answer.

Copia and Terzo tried their drinks as well, and they were both oddly silent for a while, warming their gloves on their own cups. In spite of our cozy surroundings and the soft music playing, the air in here was beginning to feel further unsettled, just as it had when we had entered. Strange eyes glancing over at us, conversations halted. I almost expected an inevitable signing of the cross.

The three of us shared a sombre mood, and I sighed a little; though we were sheltered in here, this was nothing like our beloved abbey. Wrapping my hands around my cappuccino, I slid it closer, shivering slightly.

Copia moved my hair aside to put his hand on the back of my neck. “Are you cold, dolcezza?”

“No, I’m fine, Your Eminence,” I reassured him. I shuffled closer to rest my head on his shoulder for a minute.

Terzo was idly sipping his coffee. “Lucifero, I am bored…”

“We’re almost done here,” I sighed, sitting back and digging the list out of my little bag, “Let me see…” Copia’s fingertips idly stroked along my shoulders as he sipped his own cappuccino beside me.

“Oh si, the list… We must consult the list,” teased Terzo, rolling his eyes a little before he took another sip.

Copia glared at him and I grinned softly. “We just need to pick up her parcel at the post, and then…” I scanned the little folded note in my hand. “Something sweet and fresh, Sister said, from the bakery… and then Papa Nihil’s prescription... That’s all.”

“Tedioso,” said Terzo, odd eyes glazing, “Never did I think I would rise such in my satanic station to be out in the sleepiest of hamlets running errands like a peasant…”

“I’m sorry I’m not better company,” I pouted, and Terzo startled, looking a bit guilty.

“Sorellina! I didn’t mean—”

“Why don’t you just shut up,” Copia told him, and I smiled down into my cup. “Gasbag,” I heard the Cardinal mutter into his own drink. We all drank deeply for a moment, and I felt a little merrier.

“Mmm, that is nice,” I murmured, ��but not as nice as a real Italian coffee, I’m guessing?”

Both Copia and Terzo perked up a little bit, telling me in impatient turns how nothing here could compare to the caffé of their youth, the richness, the quality. The strict attention to detail. Dreamily, I listened, warmed by my own coffee and their impassioned tones. Though Copia feigned to be less caught in the trappings of luxury that Terzo delighted in, I knew he was nevertheless attracted to excellence. His wine, literature, and the fabrics of life that he surrounded himself in reflected that. Sometimes I still wondered what he found worthy in me; I came from nothing.

“One day I will bring you to the Riviera ligure, dolce, and you can see for yourself how you are deprived here,” said the Cardinal, low into my ear. I thought of sunny coastlines, and tangled sheets, and smiled, my gloom lifting a bit.

Terzo drained his cup and relaxed back in his chair for a moment. “I need to go christen this place,” he stated, pulling his gloves off and standing up to go and head towards the washroom, “another unholy errand…”

“Sacred duties call,” said the Cardinal, and I grinned as I finished my own coffee. He took a final sip of his own, and I reached up to swipe some foam away from his moustache with my thumb. Copia leaned into my hand, and our faces came close.

I could feel hostile eyes upon us, like a sprinkling of holy water. Leaning back over the table, I looked down at the remnants of foam in my cup, shy and quiet. Copia sighed a little beside me, and when I glanced back up at him he moved to catch my chin gently. Lifting my eyes up to his pooling ones, I barely shook my head, and he watched me bite my lip. He looked weary, but slightly amused. If he had kissed me anyway, I would have melted into his warmth, but instead, he brushed his thumb underneath my pout, sighed again, and let me go, tilting his head to watch me squirm.

“I can’t wait to go home,” I whispered to him, out of the corner of my mouth.

“Straight upstairs, I am thinking…” he whispered back with a sly smile, “or downstairs, perhaps. My paperwork can wait.”

I thought of the sweet torture that awaited me, after the agony of deprivation I was currently surrounded in, and blushed. My knee nudged the Cardinal’s underneath the table, and I couldn’t even look at him. I felt my heartbeat rising.

Finally Terzo came back to the table, and we left, feeling like the café had spit us out onto the pavement. Blinking in the light out here, I looked about us to see where we should head to next.

“Let’s split up,” yawned Terzo, “I’ll take the bakery, you two do the post.”

“Si, si, vai ad attaccati al tuo cazzo,” said Copia, impatient. Grabbing me by the hand again, he began to march us away from Papa down the sidewalk.

Terzo turned away as well, but I heard him call over his shoulder, “Oh, and by Satan’s asshole, I am NOT picking up the old fart’s meds! Not again.”

I just laughed out loud so Papa knew I heard him, struggling to keep up with the Cardinal’s stride. “Oh, oh, Copia… wait for me!”

Slowing down, he let me catch my breath, wrapping his arm around me for a moment. Grateful for his warmth, and for the comforting whiff of his cologne, I snaked my own arm around the back of his waist, and leant my head against him again. I could see we were approaching the local Catholic chapel up ahead.

As sleepy as this village was, there was yet some bustling going on here. Parishioners milled about the grounds as they exited the little church; it must have been the end of the daily mass or the weekly adoration, I couldn’t tell.

Copia watched me looking over. “Do you miss it, dolce?”

I shook my head a little. “The only things I would have missed would have been the ceremony of it all. The ritual; the devotion.” I stopped walking and turned to run my fingertips along his cape. “And I’m not deprived of any of that, Your Eminence.” Just thinking about my situation spread a shy but sincere smile across my face. “I am utterly devoted to you, Copia.” He brought one hand up to caress my cheek lovingly, to brush my windswept hair away.

It would have been sweeter if we were alone, but we weren’t, and I couldn’t help but notice some people staring. We were standing close, in a very romantic fashion beside the church lot, and I’m sure some were wondering at the apparent Father holding a member of his congregation so intimately.

Some seemed taken aback, until they recognized the Cardinal’s satanic persuasion, in which case they either turned away or continued to look upon us in distaste. Past caring now, I raised my face up to Copia’s in a little defiance.

We were just as free as they were in our chosen devotion, and Copia was tired of holding back in his revelling of it. Pulling me in even closer to him, he bent his dark head and kissed me full on the mouth, and I freely kissed him back, sighing in pleasure against his lips as I heard some faint gasps of disapproval beyond.

Our tongues had only begun to meet when the Cardinal broke away, heated and breathless. “Let’s go to the car.”

“Absolutely not,” I told him, pulling out my skewed hairband. Our surroundings might be forgotten to me, but not our purpose. “The list, Your Eminence.”

“Si, si, the cursed list…” He rolled his eyes at me now, in frustration and amusement, and, turning to walk me away very close on his arm, we continued in our now less leisurely strolling, to I knew not exactly where.

Some tasks were more urgent than others.

#fic prompts #kissing prompts #ask box #thank you my dear friend #sadglo #sadglo sidequest lol

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ghoulelegy · 3 months ago

Text

In the Breeze of the Autumn Leaves - Chapter 3 - Waiting Room

Read here or on AO3. Thank you @jimothybarnes, @em0bussy, @creatura-theanarchist, and @everybodyshusband for all the support and love you have shown <3 (if you don't wanna be tagged just let me know <3333) Summary:

On a breezy autumn day in the park with your dog Juno, you once again encounter Copia, who joins you for a stroll. As you discuss life, literature, and the supernatural, he reveals the existence of his ghouls and hints at an upcoming "ghoul summoning," sparking your curiosity. When rain begins to fall, you both seek refuge in a nearby café, where the cozy atmosphere and sweet cinnamon rolls deepen your connection against the backdrop of the stormy autumn day.

Word count: 7518 TW: dentists, panic attacks. some religious talk, If I missed anything let me know :))

A couple of weeks had passed since your strange encounter with Cardinal Copia, and now, sitting in the dentist’s nondescript waiting room, the unsettling dream still clung to you like a shadow. You tried to shake it off, but even in the harsh fluorescent light, something about the world seemed slightly off, as if the dream had followed you here. You glanced at the worn magazines on the table, their pages brittle with age, and then to the faded poster on the wall illustrating the anatomy of a tooth. Everything here was sterile, controlled, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the shifting gate and Copia’s smile—how it seemed to linger even now, far away from the dream. The receptionist called out names with an artificial smile, but each one sounded distant, like they were being called from the other side of a tunnel.

When your name was finally called, you stood slowly, your legs stiff, carrying with you a growing sense of dread that had nothing to do with the dentist. As you settled into the cold embrace of the dental chair, the overhead light blazed too brightly, casting harsh shadows that only intensified the unease gnawing at you. The whirring of the drill in the background sounded wrong, too loud, too close. You clenched your fists, trying to focus on the present, but that same metallic taste coated your mouth—just like in the dream.

The cold leather of the dental chair creaked beneath you as you shifted uncomfortably, your hands gripping the armrests so tightly that your knuckles whitened. The harsh fluorescent light overhead made the sterile white walls seem to close in, each shadowed corner growing darker as your eyes darted from one gleaming instrument to another. The nurse murmured something you barely registered, her voice a dull hum as she adjusted the glaring light above you. It felt like a spotlight, harsh and unrelenting, as though the room itself was scrutinizing you, dissecting you.

The metallic taste in your mouth grew stronger, bitter, as if copper had pooled beneath your tongue. You swallowed, but it lingered, thick and oppressive.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay present. It’s just a routine visit, you reminded yourself, trying to drown out the irrational fear clawing its way up your throat. But the edges of reality felt slippery, like the thin veneer of normalcy was cracking, peeling back to reveal something darker underneath.

The dentist entered the room, his footsteps too loud against the linoleum floor. He offered the same detached greeting you’d heard countless times before, but today, his voice sent a tremor through you. It felt wrong—mechanical, as if the warmth had been stripped away, leaving only a hollow formality. When he leaned over you, his face obscured by the surgical mask, the bright light caught the reflection in his glasses—two cold, shining mirrors.

For a moment, you thought you saw them—your teeth. The same elongated, sharp teeth from the mirror. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat, but the image disappeared as quickly as it had come. The dentist’s face loomed closer, his gloved hands reaching towards your mouth with silver instruments that gleamed like blades.

Your pulse quickened, hammering in your chest. The whirr of the drill began, its high-pitched hum reverberating through your skull. The noise filled your ears, drowning out everything else until it became a steady, oppressive thrum that rattled your bones.

And then—snap.

Something gave way inside you, a fine thread snapping under too much tension. Your heart leapt as a sudden surge of panic rushed through you. The dentist loomed above, impossibly tall now, his silhouette warping, bending as the room darkened around him. The shadows beneath his eyes deepened, swallowing the contours of his face, and when his mouth opened behind the mask, you could swear you saw rows of sharp, jagged teeth—not human, not real. But they felt real.

The drill whirred closer, its sound becoming a shrill scream in your ears, a terrible crescendo of noise that drowned out your own breath. You wanted to pull away, to thrash out of the chair, but your body wouldn’t move. You were trapped, paralysed as the silver tool in his hand approached your mouth.

“Just relax,” the dentist murmured, but his voice was strange—twisted, deepening into a guttural growl. His eyes, once distant and clinical, now glowed with something malevolent, something hungry.

The drill pierced through the air, and with a cold, sharp jolt, you felt it—not just against your teeth, but deeper, sinking into your mind, buzzing and gnawing at your very thoughts. The world around you warped. The light overhead flickered violently, casting rapid shadows that twisted across the walls like writhing tendrils.

Suddenly, you were back at the gate from your dream—only now it stood in the middle of the sterile dentist’s office, looming impossibly tall, its intricate carvings shifting as you stared. The whispers returned, curling in the air, wrapping around you, pressing in on your ears until they weren’t whispers anymore—they were screams.

You tried to scream too, but your voice was gone. Everything was gone, swallowed by the gate’s dark, yawning mouth.

And then, the voice—Copia’s voice, soft but unmistakable, whispering through the haze of terror: “La mia porta è sempre aperta.”

The gate surged toward you, its twisted carvings reaching for you, pulling you deeper into its depths. The room was gone. The dentist was gone. There was only darkness now, and the gate—and the cold, iron weight of the card still in your pocket.

A snap—loud, sudden—yanked you out of the nightmare.

Your eyes flew open, your chest heaving as the dentist pulled the drill away. The room returned in a dizzying rush—the overhead light blinding, the sterile scent of antiseptic flooding your nostrils. The dentist’s eyes were just eyes again, behind his glasses, dull and tired. His mask in place. The nurse beside him, looking at you with mild concern.

“You’re done,” the dentist said, his voice flat. “Everything went fine.”

But you knew it hadn’t. Not really. You sat there, numb, staring at the reflection in his glasses again, expecting—no, waiting—for something to shift. For those sharp teeth to return, for the darkness to reach out again. But nothing happened.

Your mouth tasted of metal and fear.

As you stumbled out of the chair and into the daylight, the world around you felt hollow, as if the dream had cracked the surface of reality, and now it was all just... thin. The shadow of the gate loomed at the edge of your vision, flickering every time you blinked.

And somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could still hear Copia’s voice.

The door was always open.

As autumn continued to creep in, you could sense a subtle shift in the air. The changing season felt like the beginning of a new chapter, full of unspoken possibilities. Memories of that strange meeting with the satanic cardinal lingered in your mind, adding an air of intrigue to your otherwise ordinary routine.

October’s cool breeze carried with it the scent of cinnamon from nearby cafés, while pumpkins adorned the doorsteps of homes, casting a soft, orange glow across the city. The dog park, where you found yourself today, was a haven of vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges as the leaves began their slow descent from the trees. Juno, ever in tune with the seasons, seemed to revel in the coolness of the air and the gentle rustling of the fallen leaves.

You felt inspired, almost poetic, as you observed the world around you. The vibrant hues of autumn painted the landscape in rich strokes of gold, crimson, and burnt amber, each leaf fluttering to the ground like a carefully scripted line from a poem. The sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows that danced upon the grass, creating a canvas of light and shadow that was a testament to nature's artistry.

As you threw the ball for Juno, the familiar rhythm of her paws against the earth echoed in your mind, blending seamlessly with the verses that fluttered through your thoughts. Words from Keats and Frost played like a soundtrack to the scene, urging you to capture the beauty of the moment. You imagined what it would be like to weave these images into a tapestry of language, to share the serenity of the park with others, to encapsulate how the crisp air felt invigorating against your skin and how the scent of cinnamon wafting from nearby cafés lingered in the air like a warm embrace.

Juno’s joyful barks rang through the park, punctuating the silence as she dashed through a whirlwind of leaves. Watching her bound with exuberance sparked your creativity even further; you could almost hear the laughter of children in the distance, their voices mingling with the rustling leaves, a symphony of life that reminded you of the beauty in fleeting moments.

In that vibrant atmosphere, you found echoes of Keats’s reflections: "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness," you mused, appreciating the lushness around you. The trees, heavy with ripened fruit, mirrored the abundance of your thoughts. You envisioned autumn as Keats described it—"the close bosom-friend of the maturing sun," where nature seemed to whisper secrets through its rich, golden tones.

The tranquility of the park blended with your newfound literary inspiration, giving you a profound sense of peace. In that moment, everything felt interconnected—the vibrant colours of the trees, the rhythmic heartbeat of Juno's playful energy, and the whisper of the wind carried hints of old stories yearning to be told. It was a momentary escape into a realm where the ordinary became extraordinary, where nature's beauty intertwined with your imagination, urging you to delve deeper into your writing and explore the poetry that lay just beneath the surface of everyday life.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, you recalled Keats’s lines about the beauty of decay, feeling the weight of each moment as the leaves began to fall. The world around you transformed into a living poem, and you, the eager poet, poised to pen its verses.

You unclipped her leash as you entered a quieter area of the park, and with a playful gleam in your eye, you threw her favourite ball across the wide-open field. Juno, eager as ever, darted after it, her golden fur catching the light as she weaved between swirling autumn leaves. She retrieved the ball with boundless enthusiasm, her tail wiggling wildly as she returned it to you.

You smiled, throwing the ball again and watching her chase it with unrestrained energy. The park felt peaceful, the vibrant autumn leaves spinning in the wind, and the rhythmic sound of Juno’s paws against the grass filled the air. It gave you a moment to reflect. The encounters with Cardinal Copia, his mysterious umbrella now safely stored at the ministry, and the strange allure surrounding him, played at the edges of your thoughts.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your reverie.

“Hey!”

You turned toward the sound and found Cardinal Copia strolling casually in your direction. His attire, a deep red cloak mixed with the muted tones of fall, blended almost seamlessly with the surrounding trees. A friendly smile touched his lips as he approached, his heterochromatic eyes catching the light in a way that mirrored the warm glow of the late afternoon.

"Hello again!" Copia called out, his tone light and familiar. "Fancy meeting you here."

You returned the greeting, a pleasant smile spreading across your face. "Hey! It's a nice surprise. Just soaking in the October vibes with Juno." You gestured toward your labrador, who had stopped chasing the ball and was now staring curiously at the approaching figure.

Copia chuckled, the sound warm and soft. "Ah, the joys of autumn," he remarked. "The city’s quite enchanting this time of year, isn’t it?" He paused briefly, his eyes flicking toward Juno with a soft smile. "Mind if I join you for a bit of a stroll?"

"Not at all," you replied, happy to have the company. "It’s a beautiful day. How have things been at the ministry?"

As you both began walking along the tree-lined path, Copia fell into step beside you. "Busy," he said with a sigh, though his tone remained cheerful. "Still deep into research. My brother hasn’t been making it easy on me, as per usual."

You chuckled at his remark, feeling the easy rhythm of your conversation take hold. "Sounds like you’ve had your hands full."

Copia nodded, smiling in agreement before glancing your way. "And how about you? How’ve you been holding up?"

"Eh, pretty good," you replied, running a hand through your hair. "Had a dentist appointment earlier today, and you know what they said? Apparently, I have really sharp teeth! Can you fucking believe that?"

Copia laughed, his eyes brightening with amusement. "Ah, well, that must mean you're one of my ghouls," he teased, giving you a playful wink.

You raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback. "Ghouls?"

"Oh yes," he continued with a grin. "Creature della notte. Lovely little guys, really. You should meet them sometime."

You gave him a quizzical look, unsure if he was joking or serious. "Wait… you're not serious, are you?"

Copia shrugged nonchalantly but his smile didn’t falter. "Oh, quite serious," he replied. "They're very loyal, very helpful. Think of them like... magical assistants, you could say."

"Assistants?" you repeated, trying to wrap your head around it. "Like, otherworldly assistants?"

He nodded, clearly enjoying the growing curiosity on your face. "Exactly. They handle tasks that most wouldn’t want to do or... couldn’t do, really."

You laughed, still unsure if you were being teased. "And what do these 'ghouls' do for you?"

"They have many skills," Copia replied thoughtfully. "Some assist with the more arcane tasks, others are more... manual labor types. They keep to themselves unless I summon them for a specific task."

You shot him a sheepish look. "I’d actually love to meet them."

He raised an eyebrow at you, an amused smile curling his lips. "Would you now?"

"Yeah," you said with a nervous chuckle, "I mean, why not? I’m already neck-deep in all this strangeness."

"Well, lucky for you, we’re having a ghoul summoning soon," Copia announced with a glint of mischief in his eye.

"A... ghoul summoning?" you repeated, not entirely sure if that sounded exciting or terrifying.

Copia nodded, his expression still playful, but there was a seriousness beneath his tone. "It’s more ritualistic than what you’re probably imagining. Think of it as... inviting guests to a party. Except, you know, they happen to be from a different realm."

You laughed, albeit nervously. "I can’t even imagine what that’s like."

"Oh, it’s something to behold," Copia said, his voice dropping to a more serious note. "There are incantations, symbols, and a whole process of thinning the veil between our world and theirs."

You found yourself both intrigued and a little apprehensive. "And... what happens when they appear? Do you talk to them?"

"Sometimes they don’t 'appear' exactly," Copia explained. "They communicate in different ways. Sometimes through signs, other times directly in the mind of the summoner." He glanced at you, noticing the mix of excitement and wariness on your face. "It’s not for the faint of heart."

"I can imagine," you murmured, feeling the thrill of the unknown creeping over you. "Still, I think I’d like to see it."

"Well then," Copia said with a grin, "you’ll have your chance soon enough."

As you both walked in silence for a moment, Juno bounded happily ahead, chasing her ball. The gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze filled the space between you, wrapping your conversation in the soft cadence of autumn like a comfortable blanket.

Though the prospect of a ghoul summoning loomed ahead, you felt a strange excitement settling deep within you. As he spoke, Copia gestured animatedly, emphasizing the mysterious allure of these creatures. "Imagine having a group of loyal companions, bound to you by some supernatural connection. They’re usually quite resourceful and can handle tasks that might be a bit... unconventional, let's say. It’s a bit like having your team of magical assistants."

He chuckled, sensing that he might be overwhelming you with this information. "But don’t worry, meeting my ghouls is entirely optional. They tend to keep to themselves unless summoned for a specific purpose. Besides, I value our human interactions too much to let them overshadow our conversations."

“No…I’d love to meet them, Copia,” you said, a little sheepishly.

“Then that is that,” he stated confidently, but you couldn’t shake the uncertainty of what that could mean. “We’re actually having a ghoul summoning soon, hehe.”

“A ghoul summoning? What’s that?” you pondered silently.

"Think of it like inviting guests to a party," Copia elaborated. "Except in this case, the guests happen to be otherworldly beings with their own unique abilities and characteristics."

You listened intently, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension about what the ghoul summoning entailed. Copia’s explanation painted a vivid picture of a ritual steeped in ancient tradition and mystical energy.

As you walked and talked, the topic of the ghoul summoning continued to weave through your conversation, interspersed with anecdotes about Copia’s experiences with these enigmatic creatures. With each passing moment, the prospect of witnessing such a ritual filled you with a sense of excitement tinged with a hint of trepidation.

"So, Copia, how exactly does one summon a ghoul? Is it like a Catholic mass?” you asked, your eyes twinkling with curiosity as you recalled your childhood experiences.

Copia chuckled softly at your question, the warmth in his heterochromatic eyes mirroring his amusement. "Ah, not quite like a Catholic mass, my friend. While both involve rituals and ceremonies, the summoning of ghouls is a distinctly different practice. It's more akin to invoking ancient forces and tapping into the mysteries of the occult."

You listened intently, intrigued by his explanation.

You nodded, absorbing his words with fascination. "So, it's a sort of... ritualistic ceremony?"

"Exactly. It's a solemn affair, conducted with reverence and respect for the ancient powers we seek to invoke. Each step of the ritual is carefully orchestrated, designed to channel our intentions and establish a connection with the ghouls."

"And what happens once the connection is established? Do the ghouls appear before you?"

Copia’s expression grew thoughtful as he considered your question. “Not always. Sometimes, the presence of the ghouls is felt rather than seen. They may communicate through subtle signs and omens, or they may impart their wisdom directly into the mind of the summoner.”

"It sounds... intriguing, to say the least. I can't imagine what it must be like to witness such a ceremony."

Copia smiled warmly, a glint of excitement dancing in his eyes. "It's an experience like no other. A journey into the realms of mystery and wonder, where the boundaries between the mundane and the supernatural blur and anything is possible."

As you walked, your thoughts turned to the intricacies of religion and belief. “You know,” you began, “the idea of summoning and connecting with otherworldly beings reminds me a bit of different religious practices throughout history. Many cultures have rituals that seek to connect with a higher power or the spirit world.”

Copia nodded, his expression encouraging. “Absolutely! Religion has always been a means for humanity to seek answers and find connections beyond the physical world. From ancient shamanistic practices, where practitioners would enter trances to communicate with spirits, to the organized religions of today, such as Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism, the common thread is the desire to understand the unknown.”

“And what about incantations?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. “They seem to play a role in both religious practices and your ghoul summoning.”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed. “Words have power, a concept seen across many religions. The belief is that certain phrases can invoke divine favour or summon spirits. In Christianity, for example, prayers are recited with the intention of reaching God. Similarly, in many indigenous traditions, chants or mantras are used to connect with spirits, often calling upon their assistance or guidance.”

"That makes sense," you mused. "It’s like how the energy and intention behind those words can shape the experience. Whether in a church, a temple, or during a summoning, it's all about the connection and reverence."

Copia smiled, clearly enjoying the direction of the conversation. “Exactly. Whether one believes in a traditional deity, spirits, or something else entirely, it all comes down to the same fundamental need—to seek understanding and connection in a vast, often unfathomable universe.”

You returned his smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. The prospect of witnessing a ghoul summoning with Copia by your side filled you with excitement and curiosity, eager to explore the hidden depths of the occult.

As you continued your stroll, golden rays of sunlight shone down, illuminating the world with warmth and radiance. However, the sun’s reign was cut short as ominous clouds slowly crept in, casting a shadow over the once-bright sky. The clouds soon grew heavier, and the first droplets of rain began to fall, pattering against the ground like a gentle melody.

"Unfortunately, I don’t have my umbrella this time, si?” Copia lamented, glancing skyward with a hint of concern.

You laughed softly, “Isn’t that the way? Just when we finally get a chance to talk, the weather decides to fuck us over.”

"Ah, but the rain can be quite poetic, don’t you think?” he replied, his eyes sparkling. “Adds a touch of drama to our conversation about the supernatural.”

“Dramatic, indeed!” you agreed, glancing at Juno, who had stopped to shake off the raindrops that were beginning to fall more heavily now. “Maybe she’ll appreciate it more than we do.”

Copia chuckled, shaking his head. “Animals always seem to have a better grasp on the mysteries of life than we do. Perhaps they’re more in tune with the supernatural.”

As the rain transformed from a gentle shower into a torrential downpour, you both sought refuge under a nearby tree. Its thick branches provided a temporary shelter, but you could still feel the dampness creeping in.

“I suppose we could wait it out,” you suggested, glancing at him.

“Or we could make a run for it,” he proposed, a playful glint in his eye. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go!” you replied, laughter bubbling up as you both took off in the direction of the park’s entrance, Juno bounding happily alongside you.

With every splash in the puddles and the sound of laughter mingling with the rain, the day transformed into an unexpected adventure—one filled with mystery, excitement, and a touch of the absurd. And as you sprinted through the downpour, the idea of meeting Copia’s ghouls loomed closer, blending seamlessly into the thrill of the moment.

"Shall we seek some shelter?" you ponder aloud, gesturing towards the end of the field where the rain threatens to soak you through. "I know of a coffee shop, close to here, dog friendly too. Juno! Come here, girl!" you call out to the labrador, her head perks up at the mention of her name, and with a wag of her tail, she trots over to you, her eyes bright with excitement.

Copia nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of the café. "Lead the way," he said with a smile, gesturing for you to take the lead as you set off towards the shelter of the shop, Juno bounding happily alongside you.

With Juno by your side, you pick up the pace, the rain starting to fall more heavily as you run towards the promise of warmth and dryness. The sound of the raindrops hitting the ground echoes in your ears, a rhythmic accompaniment to your hurried footsteps.

Finally, you spotted the familiar sign of the café up ahead, its inviting glow beckoning you closer. With a sense of relief, you quickened your pace, the promise of shelter and a hot drink spurring you forward.

As you and Copia ducked into the café, a wave of warmth enveloped you, a stark contrast to the cool, damp air outside. The sweet, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the intoxicating scent of baked goods—warm cinnamon rolls and chocolate croissants that beckoned like a siren’s call. The soft hum of chatter from patrons filled the space, punctuated by the occasional clink of cups and the comforting hiss of the espresso machine.

You shook off the chill of the rain, droplets sliding down your arms and pooling in the collar of your jacket. The cozy glow wrapped around you like a soft blanket, making the memories of the storm outside feel distant and insignificant.

Copia brushed a hand through his damp hair, water droplets glistening like tiny jewels in the soft café light. His smile was infectious, brightening the room more than the glowing fairy lights strung across the ceiling. You could almost taste the excitement in the air, a mixture of hope and nostalgia that seemed to swirl around you like the scent of vanilla wafting from the pastries.

"Let’s get some cinnamon rolls!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The playful tilt of his head, combined with the way his fingers danced animatedly as he spoke, made it impossible not to smile back.

Outside, raindrops raced each other down the glass, creating a mesmerizing tapestry that blurred the view of the world beyond. The vibrant colours of autumn—golden leaves clinging stubbornly to branches, pumpkins lining doorsteps—merged into a watercolour of muted tones, softened by the drizzle. The sound of laughter and conversation filled the air, punctuated by the occasional clatter of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine, creating a comforting symphony of everyday life.

You noticed the barista at the counter, expertly crafting lattes, their hands steady and sure, while patrons engaged in hushed conversations or sat lost in their own thoughts, each absorbed in their own narrative. Nearby, a couple leaned in close, sharing whispered secrets over steaming mugs, their laughter spilling into the cozy atmosphere like an invitation to join their warmth.

Settling into your chair, you took a moment to breathe it all in—the warmth of the candlelight, the taste of sweet pastries lingering on your palate, and the hum of life that surrounded you. In this intimate setting, you felt your own thoughts begin to unfurl, inspired by the rhythmic cadence of the rain and the stories unfolding around you. It was a perfect moment, a haven where time slowed, allowing you to sip your coffee, reflect, and perhaps pen a few lines of poetry inspired by the beauty of the world, even in the rain.

“What would you like, Copia?” You ask, as you feel the remnants of the rain on your hair.

Copia takes a moment to shake off the rain from his coat before answering your question. "I think I'll go for a classic spiced chai latte," he replies with a smile.

As the waiter comes up to you, you toy with the words in your mind.

"Two chai, two cinnamon rolls, and some water for the dog, please," you request, making sure to include Juno's refreshment in the order.

The barista nodded with a friendly smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she jotted down your order on a notepad before turning to prepare it. You watched her deft movements, admiring how she transformed the simple ingredients into something magical. The whir of the espresso machine filled the air, punctuated by the gentle hiss of steaming milk, each sound contributing to the café's harmonious atmosphere.

As she expertly steamed the milk for your chai, you could see her focused expression, a blend of passion and precision. The rich aroma of spices wafted through the air, intertwining with the scent of freshly baked pastries, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. Your gaze drifted toward the display case, where an array of treats beckoned enticingly.

Moments later, she brought out a plate of cinnamon rolls, their golden-brown surfaces glistening with a generous dusting of icing sugar. The sweet scent of cinnamon filled your senses, promising warmth and indulgence. She placed the plate gently on your table, her smile infectious as she said, “Enjoy!”

The rolls looked irresistible, their flaky layers teasing your appetite. You could almost see the steam rising from them, inviting you to take a bite. As you reached for one, you marvelled at how the café, with its cozy ambiance and delectable offerings, became a canvas for your thoughts, sparking inspiration within you.

With the rain still tapping softly against the window, the world outside faded into a blur as you took a moment to savour the combination of flavours and the comforting environment. Each bite was a reminder of simple joys, a delicious interlude in the midst of the season's transformation. You couldn't help but feel that this little haven, with its friendly barista and cozy ambiance, was a perfect backdrop for your burgeoning creativity, waiting to be captured in the lines of your poetry. After a few minutes, the barista returned with a tray laden with your order. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and rich cinnamon filled the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.

You thanked her graciously, taking a moment to appreciate the spread before you. The chai was topped with frothy foam and a delicate dusting of spices, its warm aroma mingling with the sweet, buttery scent of cinnamon rolls that glistened temptingly in the soft light of the café.

With a contented sigh, you settled into your seat, ready to indulge in the warmth and comfort. You poured some water into Juno’s bowl, and she lapped it up gratefully, her tongue slick.

Cradling your warm mug in your hands, you turned to Copia, a playful spark in your eyes. “So, about that ghoul summoning…” you began. “What should I expect when I finally meet them? Do they have personalities? Or are they more like... ethereal beings with no form?”

Copia chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “Oh, they definitely have personalities! Each ghoul is unique, with its own quirks and traits. Some are mischievous and love to play tricks, while others are a bit more serious and introspective. They’ve been around for centuries, each with their own stories to tell.”

“Sounds like a fascinating bunch,” you said, your excitement building. “Are there any ghouls you feel particularly close to?”

Copia leaned in, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “There’s one named Aether who’s obsessed with the mysteries of the universe. He’s always contemplating the nature of existence and loves to dive into philosophical discussions. Then there’s Dewdrop, a playful spirit who brings joy wherever he goes. He’s known for his light-hearted tricks and captivating stories that make everyone laugh.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? He sounds intense!”

“Dew is very feisty in the rituals, but Aether is a bit softer,” Copia explained, a hint of fondness in his tone.

You laughed, enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, hey, rituals—I have sort of bad memories of those, but at least now I have Juno.”

A smile spread across your face as you thought of your loyal companion, the memory of her joyful spirit bringing warmth to your heart.

“What a lovely companion, eh? How long have you had her?” Copia asked, his tone genuine.

You smiled at Copia's comment, a warmth filling your heart as you watched Juno happily lap up the water from her bowl. “She’s indeed a lovely companion,” you agreed, reaching down to give Juno a gentle pat on the head. “I’ve had her for about a year now, and she’s been an absolute blessing. She’s not just a pet; she’s also a source of comfort and support, especially during those challenging moments.”

Copia nodded in understanding, his gaze softening as he observed the bond between you and Juno. “Animals have a way of understanding us in ways that humans sometimes can't,” he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of gratitude for Juno's unwavering loyalty and companionship. “Exactly. Juno has a knack for sensing when I’m feeling anxious or overwhelmed, and she knows just how to comfort me. She truly is a sweetheart.”

As you spoke, Juno nuzzled against your hand, her tail wagging happily at the sound of your voice.

“Actually, Juno isn’t just a companion. She’s my emotional support service dog,” you explained, your voice tinged with gratitude and pride.

Copia’s eyes widened with interest, prompting you to continue. “I suffer from anxiety and PTSD, and Juno has been trained to help me navigate through the challenges that come with these conditions. Whether it’s sensing when I’m about to have a panic attack or providing comfort during moments of distress, she’s always by my side, ready to lend her support.”

“Ah, I see…” Copia nodded thoughtfully, his expression a mixture of empathy and curiosity. “It’s truly remarkable how animals like Juno can provide such invaluable support,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. “Their ability to sense and respond to our emotional needs is nothing short of extraordinary.”

Copia's gaze softened, a silent understanding passing between you. “It’s clear that your bond with Juno runs deep,” he continued, his tone filled with warmth. “You’re fortunate to have such a loyal companion by your side.”

You brought your cup to your lips, inhaling deeply the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the sweet scent of cocoa. With each sip, you feel a sense of warmth spreading through you, the rich flavour of the cappuccino serving as a soothing balm to your soul.

As you both indulged in the comforting embrace of your drinks, the bustling atmosphere of the café faded into the background, leaving only the quiet intimacy of your shared moment. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you savored the simple pleasure of each other's company and a delicious cup of coffee.

“Look at the paintings on the wall. Is this an art café?” you pondered.

“It certainly seemed like it. I loved how each piece added its unique vibe to the atmosphere."

You nodded in agreement, taking a moment to appreciate the creativity and talent on display. "Yeah, it's like a mini art gallery in here," you remarked, your gaze drifting from one painting to the next. "It added to the charm of the place."

As you both continued to admire the artwork, you found yourselves drawn into a conversation about the different styles and techniques showcased on the walls. The cozy ambiance of the café, combined with the creative energy of the artwork, created the perfect backdrop for your lively discussion.

You caught the attention of the same barista who had served you earlier, a friendly smile lighting up their face as they approached your table.

"Excuse me," you began, gesturing towards the paintings adorning the walls, "those canvases are lovely. Would it be possible for us to have one to do some painting?"

The barista's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at your request. "Of course!" they replied eagerly. "I'm sure we can spare a canvas for some artistic expression. Let me go grab one for you."

With a nod of appreciation, the barista hurried off to retrieve a canvas, leaving you and the cardinal eagerly anticipating the opportunity to unleash your creativity, opportunity to unleash your creativity. A few moments later, the barista returned with a blank canvas, placing it gently on your table along with a set of brushes and paints.

"Here you go," they said with a smile. "Have fun creating your masterpiece!"

You thanked the barista profusely, your excitement bubbling over as you and Copia eagerly set to work. As you both settled into your seats, the vibrant colours of the café's walls seemed to dance around you, infused with the creative energy of the artwork adorning them.

You both took a moment to survey the blank canvas before you, each stroke of the brush holding the promise of a new creation. With a sense of anticipation, you dipped your brush into the palette of colours, the soft bristles gliding effortlessly across the canvas. As you began to paint, your mind filled with images of swirling landscapes and vivid scenes, each stroke adding depth and dimension to your vision.

Beside you, the cardinal’s brush moved with purpose, his hands deftly translating his imagination onto the canvas. You watched in awe as intricate patterns and bold hues emerged from his fingertips, each stroke seemingly infused with an energy that vibrated through the air.

The vibrant hues flowed together like whispers of a secret language, swirling in shades of crimson and deep blue, with splashes of gold that glimmered under the soft light of the room. It was as if he was weaving a tapestry of dreams, each movement deliberate and filled with intent. You could almost hear the silent poetry in the way he worked, a rhythm that spoke of creation and the deep well of inspiration that he drew from.

You leaned in closer, captivated by the intensity of his focus. The cardinal’s brow furrowed slightly as he concentrated, his lips curling into a subtle smile when he added a particularly daring splash of colour that seemed to leap off the canvas. There was an unspoken dialogue between you; his art was a conversation of sorts, an invitation to understand the world through his eyes.

“Do you see it?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. “Each colour tells a story, a reflection of our deepest fears and desires. It’s all there, waiting to be uncovered.”

As the two of you continued to paint, the café faded into the background, leaving only the rhythmic sound of brushes against the canvas and the gentle hum of conversation between you. Time seemed to slow, allowing you to lose yourself in the act of creation, each moment filled with a sense of joy and wonder.

As you sat in the cozy confines of the café, sipping on your chai and engaging in conversation with Copia, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you. The chatter around you faded into the background as your surroundings blurred, and you found yourself transported back to a moment from your past.

In your mind's eye, vivid images began to materialize, each one a fragment of a memory long buried. You saw yourself standing in a crowded street, the sounds of traffic and chatter echoing in your ears. But beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of tension, a sense of impending danger that sent a shiver down your spine.

The crowd pushed and pulled, a thrumming mass of bodies, and yet you felt isolated, as if a glass wall separated you from the chaos around you. You could hear laughter and conversation, but it all felt distant, muffled. A knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach, urging you to pay attention to the growing sense of unease. You noticed the way people hurried past, faces blurred in the rush of life, oblivious to the tension that gripped you.

Suddenly, a figure loomed in your periphery, a shadow among the throng. They moved with purpose, their presence unsettling, a stark contrast to the cheerful noise of the city. The air around you thickened, and your heart began to race as the figure’s gaze locked onto yours, an unyielding stare that seemed to pierce through the veil of time.

You tried to shake off the memory, to return to the comforting warmth of the café, but the grip of the past tightened around you, pulling you deeper into the darkness. The figure advanced, weaving through the crowd with predatory intent, and you felt frozen, unable to move or cry out.

The moment the flashback grips you, it’s as though the very air is ripped from your lungs. One second you’re were in the cozy café, sipping chai, surrounded by warmth and the soft hum of conversation—then everything imploded.

Suddenly, it’s not the smell of fresh tea filling your senses, but the acrid stench of gasoline and burning rubber. The soft chatter and clinking cups faded into the distance, replaced by a jarring chorus of screams and honking horns. You were no longer seated at a quaint café table; you're on a street, disoriented, the world spinning violently around you. It’s loud. Too loud. The sounds of distant sirens claw at your eardrums, every noise amplified as your pulse races, hammering in your ears like a war drum.

You felt the press of bodies around you, faceless strangers in a crowd that suddenly felt like it was closing in. The anxiety was suffocating, swelling until your lungs felt too small, too tight. You couldn’t breathe. The street darkened—no, it wasn’t the street anymore. The scene fractured, shifting, plunging you into a suffocating room dimly lit by flickering lights. Shadows crept along the walls, stretching grotesquely, writhing as if they were alive, watching you.

Figures emerged from the darkness, their faces distorted, masked in cruelty. They moved closer, their presence a cold, tangible thing that pressed against your skin like icy claws. You could smell their sweat—feel the heat of their bodies—and you knew what was coming. Your heart pounded erratically, and a shiver of primal fear slithered up your spine. Your mouth felt dry, and you tried to scream, but no sound escaped. You felt trapped in a memory you could not control, reliving a nightmare that refused to stay buried.

The fear choked you, a vice around your chest. You were back in that horrible moment, a prisoner in your own mind. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck as the walls closed in. The shadows seemed to pulse with malevolence, and you felt them reaching for you—phantom hands brushing your skin. You wanted to run, to escape, but your body was paralyzed, rooted to the spot by terror.

Your vision blurred as panic coursed through your veins like poison. You felt like you were drowning, every breath shallower than the last, each one a struggle to drag yourself back to the surface. The world around you warped and stretched, fragments of distorted memories crashing over you in rapid succession. Every sound, every smell, every flicker of light was razor-sharp, cutting through your fragile grip on reality.

Then, out of nowhere—Juno.

You felt her first, the soft weight of her head on your lap, her warm breath against your skin. The sensation was grounding, an anchor pulling you back from the edge. Slowly, like the tide receding, the flashback began to loosen its stranglehold on you. The roar of the past faded, the violent clashing of memories beginning to still, the haunting images slipping into the background. Your breaths, once shallow and ragged, deepened.

Copia’s voice broke through the fog, low and steady. “Are you alright?” he asked, though you could hear the strain beneath his calm tone, his shaky eyes studying you with intense focus.

You blinked rapidly, the café bleeding back into view—the warm lights, the smell of fresh pastries, the faint hum of soft chatter. But your body still trembled, adrenaline still surging, heart pounding as if you had just run a marathon. “Yeah,” you croaked, barely above a whisper. “I’m okay.” But the tremor in your voice betrayed you, and you sensed Copia could see through the lie.

Copia’s expression softened with understanding, though a shadow flickered in his eyes, something deeper, almost... ghastly. “I’m here,” he said quietly, his voice a gentle, grounding force against the chaos still lingering in your chest. His hand reached for yours—not demanding, but offering—solid, warm, a reminder that you weren’t lost in the past anymore. You squeezed it, desperate for something real to cling to.

“You’re not alone,” he said softly, his words more a promise than a reassurance, the weight of his presence steadying you, pulling you back from the jagged edges of the memories that threatened to consume you whole.

The café was back, fully in focus, but you felt raw. Exposed. The adrenaline left your body trembling, your muscles weak. Juno pressed herself closer, sensing your distress, her presence a balm, her steady breathing calming your own. Copia didn’t say more, but his hand stayed, grounding you with that quiet strength, letting you know—without words—that he was there. That he understood.

For now, that was enough.

But deep down, you knew the demons lurking in your mind hadn’t gone anywhere. Not really. They were still there, watching, waiting, and you wondered—how long until they dragged you back under again?

#ghost the band #ghost band #the band ghost #band ghost #ghost fanfiction #ghost #ghoulelegy writes #in the breeze of the autumn leaves #cardinal copia #ghost copia

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1starqi · 7 months ago

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Chicken Scratch

(Part 2: Call On Silent) (Part 3: Easy Talking) (Part 4: Over The Moon) (Part 5: No Messing Up) (Part 6: Can We Talk?) (Part 7: Goldilocks)

genre: fluff, college!au

pairing: student!markxbarista!o/c (this one can also be treated as xreader)

summary: where you give a cute guy your number on his coffee

wc: ~500

note: finally finished one, even if it's short!! I have another WIP that's currently 3k words. yikes.

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“Love so good feels like a thriller…” You mumble along to the lyrics of the music on the overhead speakers. The stained muslin rag in your hands feels icky from the day of use, and all you can think about is getting home to your warm, clean bed. It’s 5:23 and your shift is almost over at the café owned by your best friend.

The door chime at the front of the open room chirps happily and you force your shoulders not to slump. The cardinal red halter of your apron is digging into the spots between your neck and shoulders.

“Hello, welcome.” Damn it, you already messed up your intro. “What can I get for you?” You chant your greeting as you look up. It’s a guy you’ve seen a couple of times around your college. You run the same circles, too, and you can’t lie, he’s cute. He’s tall—maybe a couple of inches taller than you—and his face is nice. He has deep, dark eyes, and a contrasting face of sharp edges and a soft smile. You blink the thought of his pretty face away so you can do your job of making him whatever drink he’s getting at 5 pm.

“Can I get a single espresso americano, please?” His request is simple, though unusual for not the morning. He sounds tired.

“Late night, huh?” You comment, offhandedly. You don’t know why you make small talk—It’s usually a nightmare for you. “What’s the name for the order?” You raise your eyebrows slightly at the man, anxious for the answer so you don’t have to pretend to not be checking him out.

“Mark Lee.” He tells you, even though you already know. You turn fast on your heel to make the two milkshakes for the mother-daughter duo in the front of the queue. When you get to his order, your hand grips the cold metal espresso machine as it splashes against the hot water in the cup. You press your tongue between your lips and drag the Sharpie along the cup. You write the M, the A, the R, and the K as carefully as possible so your handwriting doesn’t look like chicken scratch. Before you put the cup down on the pick-up counter, another idea jumps into your head. The Sharpie is suddenly back in your hand. You see your phone number staring back at you below his name. He’s always been a sort of evolved hallway crush of yours. Some of his friends are your friends, and sometimes you see him around campus. It just felt so natural to shoot your shot—is that a sign?

You gently place the coffee on the counter. “Mark Lee?” You keep an eye on him as he walks up and picks up the coffee. You can see the blush beginning to form on his ears as he reads the writing on his coffee. As you wait for him to walk out, he gives you a slight nod. Oh my gosh, he took it.

#mark lee #mark #barista au #college au #fluff #nct fluff #nct #reader insert #kpop fic #kpop fluff #qiqi writes

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away-at-late-dawn · 2 days ago

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Slasher Holiday Antics!

Summary: There's snow on the ground and a chill in the air, and the holidays are fast approaching. What are the slashers up to, and what's something they want for the holidays? (Headcanon List) Characters: Billy Lenz, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bubba Sawyer (and Family!), Ghostface, John Kramer and Amanda Young, Patrick Bateman, and Brahms Heelshire Warnings: references/mentions of violence in some sections, mild descriptions in Billy's and Jason's sections A/N: playing fast and loose with the timelines of the slashers for this one (ex. billy doing modern black friday shopping despite his movie being in the 70s)! also very christmas-centric, though i tried to include a more general holiday vibe as well. and a special thank-you to a friend of mine for helping me figure out john and amanda's section! otherwise, they'd be the third entry in here that covers christmas/seasonal shopping (for those curious, they would be out buying lawnmowers during year-end sales) *.-

.○-.⛄️☆°*-_ (turn the page)

Billy Lenz: Holiday Shopping!

why not channel his anxiety into something (possibly) violent?

black christmas, more like black friday! so many deals! so little time! and even fewer reasons as to why billy needs to buy another waffle iron!

you might also see him trying to use the phones inside the store with varying levels of success (he's been banned from 24 stores just this holiday season)

he's the most likely to be filmed fighting someone literally tooth and nail, or with christmas lights, or with ornaments, it's some gruesome stuff. then you find out later that half the time, he doesn't even care about what he was fighting for.

billy wants a new sweater this year.

Michael: HOT CHOCOLATE (　ﾟ皿ﾟ) and TV

getting his hands on hot cocoa will be a bit of a challenge, especially since he's not exactly welcome in a store or a café (or… the entire town…), but like life, michael finds a way.

if smith's grove had done one thing right in michael's eyes, it would be the hot chocolate they gave out around christmastime. it was cooled-down coffee maker hot chocolate, but it hit different.

when he eventually gets his hot chocolate, he can find a house somewhere in the neighborhood that's playing some seasonal movies on TV with a clear view out the window. that suits him just fine.

if we got a domesticated (/lh) Michael on our hands, he loves to zone out in front of the TV while he tries out the different hot chocolates you bring him. he also likes getting extra pampered by you draping a blanket over his legs. you can watch him fall asleep in minutes if you put on a yule log video.

michael wants to get snowboots this year.

Jason: Maintaining Equipment

as the world grows still and the year grows old, jason usually spends his time bundled up and outside, mending his other clothes or preparing hunting equipment.

he has a few places he likes to set up his campfire and sewing kit, and they're often good vantage points over crystal lake… just in case someone thought ice-skating in an abandoned camp was a good idea. to jason's credit, there have actually been a few who thought so.

he managed to get one once with their own ice skates. yikes!

there are some visitors that are welcome, though. a fox and a few cardinal birds seem to visit him each year, or at least seem comfortable enough to walk by his shack. at this point, they don't even startle if he moves, they just go about their way like a neighbor passing by.

jason is hoping to find a nicer tablecloth for his mother in time for new year's.

Bubba: Holiday Road Trip!

the chili they sell out of the food truck gets mighty popular in the winter, and so they get plenty of profits to cover gas and some holiday road tripping!

when they're in a town, bubba can't really leave the food truck since people would freak out, but his brothers involve him in their itinerary as much as they can. often, this is by taking scenic drives, sometimes with snow and always with something interesting in view.

nubbins does his part by taking polaroids inside the gas stations and sharing them with bubba.

when bubba does step out of the truck, nubbins always makes time to have the family pose together, and he just picked up a little santa hat and some candy canes from one of the gas stations to use as props :D

the sawyers plan on returning home at the end of the trip to cook up a delicious christmas dinner.

Ghostface: EXTREME Christmas MOVIE WATCHING

just like the halloween season, there are a ton of movies ghostface can watch, and watch they shall. they are going to either politely enjoy or absolutely suffer through christmas movies and they are going to come out of it a different person (heh) than before they went in!!

falling for christmas? the home alone sequel where they replaced marv and the slapstick is extremely sparse?? the second christmas chronicles?? put it on, they can take it!!

and if it turns out that they can't, it at least gives them background noise while they get up from the living room and pick at the last of the thanksgiving leftovers.

after a while of suffering, they'll watch the ones they like as the day comes near.

if they have you around, they will give you your own personal commentary track throughout the movie. "did you know that alan rickman's expression at the climax of die hard was genuine?" etc, etc.

ghostface wants another slasher bishoujo figurine.

John and Amanda: Installing Lights!

under the guise of a local light-installation duo, john trains amanda on the basic ins and outs of electrical work in the eventuality that amanda will need to do it on her own.

it is fairly simple work in comparison to actually creating the components of a trap, but much of the process should teach amanda useful skills. always measure what you're working with, calculate the necessary materials before starting your project, and make sure you keep your hands free when going up a ladder.

amanda is beginning to get the hang of it, and she's even enjoying the work! :D

the undercover jigsaw training is definitely useful, but there's also the added bonus of happy, grateful customers. for all the people john has to test, there are still those that, without his influence, already know the value of life.

john hopes that his mentees will get along better next year.

Patrick Bateman: Corporate Christmas Gift Exchanges and Christmas Shopping Fights

many of his coworkers bring absolutely pathetic gifts for the end-of-the-year party, but patrick...? he's much more thoughtful... heheh...

patrick is often out buying his coworkers some lovely, but secretly marked-down, clothing. he buys it, removes the tags, and gifts it to his co-workers to keep up appearances (and silently jeer at them for being so stupid to wear something so gauche).

granted, there is the risk that it seems he's buying the clothes for himself, but he makes sure to save face by explaining his intentions to the cashier, but with a positive twist. "i plan on gifting these to my less-fortunate friends. i feel so... jolly, giving to the lower classes!"

he especially loves snatching clothes off the rack just as someone next to him reaches for it, and when they look at him, he gives them a devilish smile (shit-eating grin).

i can see him inexplicably getting into a fight-to-the-death with billy lenz while he's out.

he isn't sure if he'd want to be recognized, but he would prefer to be caught at a more expensive store, at least.

patrick won't say he wants his dorsia reservation for christmas… at least, out loud.

Brahms: Decking the Halls and Maintaining his Doll

sometimes he considers getting the caretaker to take "him" outside so he can vicariously make snow angels, but it's been nothing but freezing-cold rain this year.

luckily, he was able to convince his caretaker to buy some decorative cotton. now, the manor is much more festive.

he also noticed some scented pinecones in his doll's room, and he just had to pick up a few to bring back into the walls; they freshen up the air so nicely.

unfortunately, just this morning, while decorating the tree, the caretaker accidentally bumped into his doll and it fell onto the (thankfully carpeted) floor. this caretaker is gentle, but sometimes accidents just happen.

luckily, brahms has quite the knack for maintaining "his" appearance. brahms spirited away his doll, checked on it, fixed it up, and returned it by morning.

he felt quite warm and fuzzy inside when the caretaker apologized to "him" and promised to be more careful. brahms is now a bit tempted to cause a few more accidents, himself, just to hear his caretaker again...

brahms hopes the insulation he's installed will keep him warm when it (hopefully!) snows.

#slashers #slasher imagines #billy lenz #michael myers #jason voorhees #bubba sawyer #ghostface #john kramer #amanda young #patrick bateman #brahms heelshire #writing at late dawn #this one took a bit but it's here now! hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

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giz-art · 28 days ago

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And here it is ! The ephemeral shop is opening for its winter edition. https://gizmoon.bigcartel.com/products Quite a lot of new stuff around be sure to ask if you have any question ! AS USUAL : If you want to order several different items PLEASE CONTACT ME by pm, mail, crow, owl or anything, I can probably lower a bit the shipping cost ! Big cartel's additional system is making them growing very fast ; ; POUR LES PARISIENS ET ASSIMILES : Ma venue au Renard Café (Métro Cardinal Lemoine) ce vendredi à Paris peut vous permettre d'économiser les frais de port ! Je peux préparer votre commande à l'avance et vous la remettre en main propre là bas, n'hésitez pas à me contacter aussi ! ^ ^ (reblogs would be HIGHLY appreciated ♥)

#giftideas #prints #badges #goldfoiled #smallbusiness #enamelpendant #woodencharms #christmasshopping

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blouisparadise · 1 year ago

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Here are some of the amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of September. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Like Sweat Dripping Down Our Dirty Laundry | Explicit | 1,460 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

Harry has a thing for Louis' armpits. Louis wears a tank-top. You get the picture.

2) The Beat Of Your Heart, The Devil's Arcade | Mature | 3,567 words

“Louis Tomlinson, shortstop to the Cardinals, marries pitcher for their rival team, the Chicago Cubs,” Oli says in a fake announcer voice. He shakes his head. “One day someone will make a movie about it."

3) Make Dreams Come True | Explicit | 3,883 words

“You’re saying, I’ve met him?” he asked hopefully. “Yeah, mate, you’ve probably seen him somewhere, found him attractive and bam… he’s in your dreams -” Zayn chuckled, “Our brains are a mysterious place”. That was it. He had met him before, which meant that he could meet again. “I'm going to find him”, Louis said happily, humming contently. “It can’t be that hard right?”

4) Good And Bad And Right And Wrong | Explicit | 5,113 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis angrily threw a pillow at his head, but Harry avoided it, laughing loudly as he slammed the door behind him. Louis bit his lip, grumpy and flushed and hard again, tension and arguments like this with his dear husband always a huge turn on. He knew it was his toxic trait, but at the same time, it was so good to let the tension build until it exploded under the sheets. So instead of pouting and groaning in bed, waiting for Harry to leave the house without him like he first intended to do, Louis kicked the sheets of his legs, stripped off his boxers –and gave his cock a few nice quick strokes, before getting dressed for the gym. Harry smiled widely when he joined him in the kitchen. Louis flipped him off. He promised himself he would have his revenge.

5) Harmony | Explicit | 6,175 words

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state. Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

6) Smile for the Camera for It Knows Everything, Hollywood Star | Mature | 6,676 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 132- The story of Nancy Reagan being called the blowjob queen of Hollywood but it's Louis.

7) It's All My Love (You Got All My Love) | Teen & Up | 8,002 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Sometimes, he realized how he truly didn’t deserve an alpha this good and patient and understanding and loving. He had no clue how Louis had bagged him, how Harry had wanted to mate with him, let alone raise pups together. Still, here they were, with Harry being the perfect lover and Louis crying in the streets about a little pumpkin. The fact Eli had baked little cakes in the shape of pumpkins that morning didn’t make anything better for Louis’ emotional state, but at the very least he got to sit down with Harry for a minute and devour one together, mumbling his apologies into the alpha’s neck.

8) To A Higher Place | Explicit | 8,118 words

Louis arrives home during his break from tour just in time for Harry’s rut.

9) Cold Spring | Explicit | 8,260 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Pedro Pascal. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Life went on as normal at Cold Spring Café. Sam’s scribbles remained indiscernible, Jake persisted on his idea of getting more pots for the shop, and Pedro…Pedro continued coming to drink his moderately-caffeinated americano, to write furiously in that notebook of his, and to captivate Louis to no end.

10) My Fire, My Heart | Not Rated | 9,600 words

One look at his face and there's worry all over him. "Baby? What's going on?" "Nothing, just drive." Louis replies, turning to look outside the window. "Lou-" "I said drive, Harry. Just take me home." He says in frustration. He was not ready to have the conversation yet, needing time to think, to clear his head. Harry doesn't say anything again, just starts the car to leave.

11) I (Don’t) Really Care For You | Mature | 11,367 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“There’s always the worst-case scenario,” Zayn said while the subway pulled to a stop. “Get your heart broken. Then you can write through experience.” “Yeah, right,” Louis called after him while Zayn hopped off of the train. “You try falling in love in New York City.”

12) Fight For Us | Explicit | 11,133 words

Louis isn’t okay. It’s beyond wrong, the way they’re held in a cage waiting to be chosen for mating. It’s the way it’s been all Louis’ life, but he never wanted to end up like this. He’d hoped against hope that he’d present as a beta since they don’t have these same restrictions on them. They don’t have to adhere to their biology. And one dark night, long after all of the other omegas in the pen have fallen asleep, biology comes calling for Louis.

13) The Wild Night to Memory Loss to Soul Mates Pipeline | Explicit | 17,628 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“What the fuck are you on—holy shit,” Louis gasps, looking down at his own hand to see a white gold band wrapped his left ring finger. “Wh-what is going on?” “Sure is a conundrum,” the man muses, realization flashing in his green eyes. “I-I’m not married, I can’t be married,” Louis mumbles to himself, staring wide-eyed at the ring, heart racing a mile a minute.

14) There's A Hole In My Heart (And It's Got Your Name On It) | Explicit | 19,502 words

The four scream from the stands as the team huddles together, pulling their helmets and gloves off and slapping each other's backs as they celebrate their win. Louis had stolen a pom-pom from Mal earlier and he shakes it vigorously. His breath hitches when Harry looks up and their eyes meet. The hockey player smirks at him but looks away quickly. “Did he just-” “No.” Louis quickly stops Jade from even finishing that sentence because he’s about to lose his damn mind.

15) Ties That Binds Us | Explicit | 21,117 words

A tale as long as time Where A King who didn’t have any intentions of loving someone falls for the boy who was a hopeless romantic, tying them in a union neither could escape.

16) Love Is Pain, Pain Is Pleasure | Explicit | 25,288 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

After a series of disturbing events threaten his safety, Louis has no choice but to hire a new bodyguard. Enter Harry, an incredibly attractive, judgmental asshole who hates Louis’ guts.

17) The Wounds That Scarred Our Souls | Explicit | 35910 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Forever was nothing but a lie, Forever was just a ruse for the human heart, it gave you hope and then killed you. Forever was just a myth.

18) Always An Angel, Never A God | Explicit | 39,518 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

To understand the level of deep water Louis was in, one first needed to know he has had the same best friend since he was five. Ethan Astor was family to him—a friend who he loved deeply despite their differences. A friend he would do almost anything for. So when Ethan came to him with the plan, no matter how he felt about it, Louis accepted it. At first, it was simple, he just had to flutter his eyelashes at any of the boys that showed interest in Ethan, and if they fell for it, he just dumped them without telling them the reason. Somehow, the rumors spread around campus that Ethan had an insufferable friend they had to somehow win over to reach him. Like a final monster before getting the princess.

19) Love Me If You Dare | Explicit | 54,721 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis’ friendship starts with a game, after a simple dare. The two little boys quickly become the best of friends and referees of their own game. Unfortunately, as they grow up, they sometimes become the victims of it too. With them, everything is possible. They are capable of daring each other to do anything. But will they dare confess their feelings for each other?

20) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,601 words

Louis hadn’t forgotten about Harry as much as he tried. It wasn’t due to the strange nature of their meeting, more so the magnetic pull he somehow had on Louis. He couldn’t fathom why this complete stranger stayed in his mind as much as he tried to stop it. Any time his phone sounded his heart skipped a beat at the thought of it possibly being Harry. In all honesty, it made him feel sort of pathetic. Gay guy falls for straight guy, what a cliche he had become.

21) Three Men And A Baby | Explicit | 122,978 words

Note: There is a BH mention. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis' life had been going along just fine. Until one morning when his entire world changes when he steps on a piece of lego belonging to a young boy who has randomly appeared in his flat. And with that boy comes his gorgeous father. His flatmate Zayn has some explaining to do but he's definitely not complaining, instantly feeling connected to these new additions. Over the span of a year, life gets crazy, frustrating, surprising and most importantly...filled with love.

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