#cardinals profiles

[fraterimperatorr]

He’s so pretty 🥹

[statecfdreaming]

hiiii copia

[gravehags]

real antichrist shit

[ghestie-nun]

comish wip !!

[gggoldfinch]

my drawing tablet is buggin so here’s an angsty pathetic little popia pencil sketch 

Recently I’ve been pencil sketching a lot more than I had been in a long time, and I seriously forgot how much I missed hatching and crosshatching and all that stuff. Traditional art is my real jam, no matter how much I enjoy digital. Anyway... feat. obligatory Mitski lyrics because who are we kidding this is my blog 🤷🏻‍♀️

I drew the one on the right with the idea in mind that perhaps Copia was largely unwilling to get that plastic surgery and mourns his old face but has to come to terms with it in order to fulfill his new identity as Papa. Or maybe I’m projecting and miss his nose.

(Click for better quality, do not repost :) )

[erythristicbones]

actually wait no- thematically speaking it makes way more sense to swap Artemis & Apollo's species. ties up some loose ends i needed to fix with JDK's resolution and also like, i made specific changes to Succubi & Incubi so that they weren't a gendered thing. and all my Incubi get really fucky w/ their genders, but for some reason my Succubi are all still female? two birds, one stone n all, make Artie the succubus and Apollo the Incubus

[trapastrology]

Picking Signature Scents W/ 2H

For my lovelies who either want to find a signature scent, test out a new one or already has one in place and wants to see how true astro is... this is the post for you!

2H/Taurus rules over scents/smells.

2H stelliums tend to already have a signature scent or love scents, smells and are very particular. They aren't new to this at all, it's all 2nd nature!

Fixed 2H- Parfums. Noticeably strong. Deep. On the high end/limited edition side. Sticks to the same rotation. They keep a nice scent on them 24/7.

Mutable 2H-Ever changing. Their rotation changes often and they like to mix and match.

Cardinal 2H-Usually not the type to be too hell bent on fragrance. Changes based on mood or new direction in life. The midpoint between fixed and mutable.

___

2H ruler in the 1H-usually like scents that correspond with their personality/mood of that day. Usually, the type to have their signature scents picked out from young.

2H Virgo-very simple. They shouldn't do too much and have too complex of a scent profile. They keep the same few in rotation and rebuy when the stock is running low. Less is more here. A nice clean/fresh scent is recommended

2H Cancer-going for a scent you smelled a close female figure in your family is beneficial. Using scents/products from your childhood that gives you nostalgia. Baby fresh scents. Usually opts to go the more natural body scent route tho.

2H Taurus-scents that bring you a sense of warmth and comfort.

2H Gemini-mixing and matching. Layering. The type to go more with body sprays over parfums. Doesn't really have/need a signature.

2H Leo-something that is very bright and bold and catches over people's attention instantly. Usually pretty heavy handed with the spraying.

2H Libra-may adapt scents from their partner's overtime. Something airy and floral not necessarily sweet tho. Usually juggling between 2 main scents or wearing 2 at a time.

2H Scorpio-deeeppp, dark, passionate scents. Usually dark and sweet. Night out on the town. The kind of perfume that you smell and want to follow to see whom it leads to. A scent that invokes your curiosity. Opt for parfums and scents that last over body sprays. Keep ur signature scent on the low.

2H Sag- deep, rich scents. dark yet fruitful. When you venture outside of your signature scent palette, you find really good scents. Purchasing scents out of your "usual" area or type will bring success. For ex, getting perfume oils instead of a spray and you realized you hit the jackpot. Buying Arabic perfume or perfume out of ur country for the first time. Stepping outside of their norm.

2H Cap-usually more rigid. The first scent gifted to them by a guardian is usually the signature. Business casual scents. Similar to Virgo, simple, nothing too complicated. However, very rich.

2H Aqua-Scents that'll stick with you. Long lasting. Parfums. Scents that aren't popular. Limited edition. As long as you don't see everyone else in the same scents, go for it! You could also find urself wearing unpopular scents that become very popular in the future. As well as easily influencing others and getting them hooked on ur scent. Better luck at finding scents online opposed to in person.

2H Aries- usually very simple, even more simple than Virgo. On the one-dimensional scent plane. The ppl who don't put too much thought or effort into their scents becuz they simply don't have to.

2H suns/Venus-great scent profiles. Even when no one tells them, they are admiring their scent. They love smells and it's a huge part of what brings them comfort. Usually great at helping other pick out great scent profiles and such.

2H Mercury-usually has a changing scent profile or is well versed in high- and low-end scents

2H NN- scents is something that they should definitely get into!

2H Saturn-very hell bent on wearing a very specific scent all the time. It's been their signature for forever. Their scents last very long.

2H Pluto-expensive taste. Goes the dark, deep, fruitful route. Secretive about their scent (they should be). Perfumes tend to always smell different or smell sweeter/richer on them than others. Thier scent gives them a certain confidence to a degree. The type to get a perfume made specifically for them,

2H Moon-picks a scent based on mood so the profile can change often. simple and fresh is their style. light and airy. They are usually emotionally attached to their fragrances.

Bella asteroid in earth signs (mostly taurus and virgo) should lean towards warm, dark, vanilla and musk/sandalwood scents.

One of my most favorite posts I've done in a while! This excited my 2H stellium! Dm to book a reading with me! I'd love to do my first (well first paid) perfume/scent consultation! The first 5 to get one will be 15% OFF!

[digi-lov]

Digimon & Magical Witches

Bandai V-Pet Crossovers Part 2 (see Part 1 here)

With Tamagotchi's original launch in 1996, then Digital Monsters in 1997, Bandai and Wiz released Magical Witches in 1998!

While Tamagotchi were based on eggs, and Digital Monsters on cages, the Magical Witches v-pet is shaped like a book, cover and all!

Just like the original lines of Tamagotchi and Digimon, Kenji Watanabe was also the designer for the Magical Witches. Besides going through different stages, the Witches were also divided into four different clans each representing a different magical element. Which tribe of Witches you would raise depends on the version of the v-pet you have.

The clans and their respective magic are as follows:

Eneruge, who specialize in fire magic, Earthlin, who specialize in Earth magic, Baluluna, who specialize in wind magic, and Aquary, who specialize in water magic.

As your Witch grows, it can study other elements of magic! They cannot learn their opposite element until Gen 4 (and master it by Gen 5). So a Eneruge Witch has to learn Earthlin and/or Baluluna magic before they can learn Aquary magic.

[images from gotchi-garden]

Unfortunately this franchise never took off, and no further lines were created past the original line up. The toys are now quite the rare find and any online listings are super expensive.

But part of the franchise lives on within the Digimon franchise!

The Land of Witchelny is now portrayed as another dimension, so to speak, another layer to the Digital World we know. According to offcial DigimonWeb profiles, the land is ruled by elders of each clan and three sages that lead a council governing the clans.

Witchelny is split into four blocks for each cardinal direction, each occupied by a clan, and in the center lies Mount Brocken. On the top of Mount Brocken, the clans have established a joint magic school. Those who master magic (advanced programming language) at said magic school, move on to travel to the Digital World we know.

Here is a list of Digimon, who have been confirmed to have come from Witchelny: Wizardmon /X (master of fire and earth magic), FlareWizardmon (master of fire magic), Sorcerymon (master of light and ice magic), Witchmon (master of wind and water magic), Mistymon (master of various magics, of which fire is its forte), MedievalGallantmon (a legendary hero, who protected Witchelny in ancient times) and Wisemon (born in a magic-less region of Witchelny).

Furthermore, Hexeblaumon is a Digimon that came to Witchelny from the Digital World, and mastered ice magic there.

On the Option Card, Absolute Blast, which features HexeBlaumon, you can also see the symbol of Aquary!

Absolute Blast BT5-097 by Shin Sasaki from BT-05 Booster Battle of Omni

Comparing the original Magical Witches evolutionary charts to the what magic we know these Digimon to be proficient in, we can make some possible connections.

Wizardmon being a master of fire and earth magic, and Witchmon being a master of water and wind magic, these original Witches line up with their abilities.

[Wizardmon: Eneruge native master top, Earthlin native master bottom] [Witchmon: Aquary native master top, Baluluna native master bottom]

However with official artwork, such as the one below, portaying fire and water magic as their respective specialties, I believe the top sprites would be more likely.

With Mistymon being proficient in all magic, only the "Soul" type of Witch applies, which is the same in all clans.

I find this stuff super interesting! But wait... doesn't that one face look familiar...?

SATAN?!

If you are interested in Magical Witches, I recommend you check out gotchi-garden! They have a very detailed coverage on these. Also shoutout to @/MagicLad_Ty on twitter who first brought these to my attention!

[seafoamreadings]

week of october 13th, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: the full moon this week is in your sign and highlights your relationships, and yourself in relation to others. interpersonal dramas may come to a head and spill over at this time or perhaps you have a great epiphany about yourself.

taurus: the effect is somewhat muted by the full moon but this is really a very taurean week which says mostly good things about your relationships and partnerships *if* your routines and daily rituals are on point and you are, within those structures, open to a bit of spontaneity and serendipity.

gemini: the full moon is the strongest vibe of the week and for you it can bring fun and friendship, or networking if that's more your speed! but then venus moves into sagittarius and if you wish to solidify a new acquaintance into something more, especially if it is romantic or involves you being particularly charming in some way, that passage is very powerful for you.

cancerians: a cardinal full moon like the one this week can always feel like upheaval for you. there is a need to make changes, or perhaps it's more like a sudden manifestation pops up that you forgot you used to want and now you have to assess if it's still where you want to go.

leo: the full moon may bring a change in travel plans, or bring some about where they previously did not exist. but the whole week is really good for philosophical pursuits, academia, your local neighborhood, building community, and having a good time! don't let any unexpected events bring you down. be open to them being a lot of fun when it's all said and done.

virgo: mind your resources most of all this week. time, money, your energy, or any other resources you have going for you. are they in line with your values? is there anyone vampirically draining some of them? make changes accordingly, if they don't happen automatically with the full moon.

libra: your ruling planet venus wafts around making big yet graceful moves in the midst of a full moon along your relationships axis. if you can't act gracefully in relationships at this time, put such dealings off if possible to a time when you can. elegance and poise are to be the name of your game now.

scorpio: venus still has a few very charming and glamorous moves to make from the end of your sign. then she moves into sagittarius and while the vibe shift is practically tangible, and appearances take on an air you may not be as at home with, that is a great move for your money or other resources, which are then much easier than usual for you to attract.

sagittarius: we're in for a fairly intense full moon but for your sign, this should mostly bring good fun! and as a nice bonus, shortly thereafter venus into your sign makes you extra charming and charismatic.

capricorn: honestly your week is set to go quite smoothly! you may have some surprises around love affairs, fun, hobbies, and creativity, or children even, so if you need to take any precautions in that regard this is your warning~ otherwise enjoy the delight of pleasant surprises. at most the full moon will shake up your balance of private/public life.

aquarius: while i wouldn't advise you at this time to *begin* a new academic or philosophical pursuits or book any serious travel plans, this week's full moon may bring a long anticipated development in these areas. it is a good idea to take the opportunity!

pisces: if you need to make a public statement, give a speech, or even just change you profile picture - such status-related, public-facing tasks are more auspicious if you can postpone them until after the full moon and once venus is nicely ensconced into sagittarius.

watch the transit posts in real time to have the best guide through your week. want a little more? have a look at my patreon or ko-fi.

[ghostchems]

The world needs more Terzo smoking weed !!! 🤠

1.1k words of terzo smoking weed AND being hot

“You are not leaving the party so soon, are you, sister?”

Your head swivels in the direction of the familiar voice only to be met with the new Cardinal, leaning against the stone wall with a joint hanging out of his mouth. He hasn’t been what you were expecting — the other Emeritus brothers were far more reserved yet driven while Terzo is… well, the exact opposite. Outgoing yet aloof. And devastatingly handsome. He seemed young despite only being three months younger than Secondo.

“Feeling a little too sleepy for the rave going on in there right now. Does that make me lame?” You're half joking but also half really asking and you manage to sound somewhat flirty.

“No. That’s exactly why I’m out here. To enjoy the fresh air and quiet of the night.” Terzo plucks the joint from his lips and offers it to you, giving you a sly grin. “Do you smoke?”

You hesitate for a moment but end up taking it from his fingers, brushing his gloves ever so slightly and bringing it to your lips and taking a drag. Coughs sputter from your lips but you manage to exhale deeply.

“Not often, as you can see.” You smile weakly as you hold it out for him though he catches your hand in his. A leather thumb runs over your knuckles, using his other hand to take the joint back. Your eyes meet, his white eye sparkling with such mischief that it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Well, thank you for joining me.” He bows his head and kisses the back of your hand. So formal for the sharing of a joint. You lean against the wall beside him, growing quiet as the weed starts to hit. After what feels like a half hour (actual time: 8 minutes) you wiggle your fingers and realize he’s been holding your hand the entire time. Bashful eyes dart over to him, his own gaze settled somewhere off into the distance.

The moonlight illuminates his side profile, a heavy brow giving way to weary eyes, a strong nose and plump lips all framed with slick black hair. You become oddly fascinated with his wrinkles, starting with the laugh lines near his eyes. At that point he looks at you, then does a double take to see that you’re staring.

“U-uh… “ Your eyes widen. “I’m… I’m very high, Cardinal.” A giggle bubbles up your throat and you cover your mouth with your hands, unable to fight back a smile.

“Molto bene.” Terzo squeezes your hand, tilting his head to get a better look of you. “Your giggles, they are cute.”

Oh, no.

You’ve heard of his flirtatious nature, to which you originally scoffed at. But now his charms are directed at you and you feel it, the allure that radiates from his entire being.

“What is your name?”

You babble your name to him, unable to look away from his mismatched gaze than shines against the black paint around his eyes. Terzo repeats it, rolling off his tongue with ease. He’s giving you his undivided attention and it’s almost overwhelming, leaning further into you so that you can feel his soft breath on your cheeks. It’s so hard to focus with him this close to you now.

"You look beautiful under this moonlight," Terzo whispers, his fingers gently drifting along your jaw. The intensity of his gaze and the softness of his touch leave you breathless. You can't help but blush from his compliment and a veeeeery awkward laugh slips from your lips. He breaks out in a wide smile, eyes crinkling and it’s over.

You don’t know who made the first move but you’re now clutching onto his cassock as you moan into his mouth. Smoke clings to his tongue. Terzo’s gloved hand moves to hold the back of your head, fingers weaving into your hair. You melt against him, no thoughts in your head except how soft his lips are. Sighs and quiet moans pass between your lips, joining together as he deepens the kiss. He takes it slow, his tongue savoring your taste, opening you up gradually to him until he’s devouring you.

“Let me walk you back to your room.” Low and seductive before he nibbles on your bottom lip. You nod and he whisks you away, his fingers lacing tightly with yours. You are so high but he’s keeping you from the point of no return with the way he somehow avoids walking in a straight line, distracting you with a comfortable goofiness. You wonder if his limbs are just made of spaghetti. The walk takes a turn when he backs you up against your door and leers over you, a wicked expression on his face. But he only kisses your forehead. Tease.

You turn the knob behind you and back yourself into the room, Terzo’s arms looped around you lazily as you guide him to your bed.

“Cozy ragazza.” He purrs into your ear, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. The backs of your knees hit the edge of your bed and he takes advantage, guiding you onto your back as he peels your shirt off. Bare back hits the bed and his warm mouth is already kissing up your stomach. You sink into the mattress, lips parted and eyes falling shut, mewling from the heat of it all. Terzo’s mouth closes around one of your nipples, teeth and tongue working it inside his mouth, sucking as his other hand squeezes your side. A moan rumbles up your chest, body aching beneath him but your eyes grow heavy.

Your thoughts wander as you run your fingers through his soft locks, thinking about nothing in particular except for how good it feels to have his hands on you. Gentle touches, warming up your body but the combination leads you to become more and more relaxed.

Until your eyes close.

Your eyes blink open and you wipe the drool from your mouth with the back of your hand. Oh no. Oh no. You fell asleep. Limbs twitch into action but you’re stopped from jumping out of bed by a weight on your chest.

…

A black mop is lying on your breasts.

Terzo is fast asleep and snoring, his arms curled around your waist and holding you close to him. You exhale slowly and relax in his arms, worried thoughts expelled and your focus shifting back toward how tired you are. Eyes glance back down at him for one moment and just by watching his body rise and fall with each breath you are soothed to sleep once more.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

If Caravaggio were alive today today, he would have loved the cinema; his paintings take a cinematic approach. We filmmakers became aware of his work in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and he certainly was an influence on us. The best part for us was that in many cases he painted religious subject-matter but the models were obviously people from the streets; he had prostitutes playing saints. There’s something in Caravaggio that shows a real street knowledge of the sinner; his sacred paintings are profane.

Martin Scorsese on Caravaggio

Michelangelo Merisi, known to most of us as “Caravaggio,” was born on September 29, 1571 in Milan, Italy, to parents who were from the small town of Caravaggio. In the span of his 38 years long life he revolutionised painting with innovations like a unique use of chiaroscuro - with dark shadows contrasting with dramatic areas of light - and a deep sense of realism that later inspired the Baroque movement. But most of all, he developed such an iconic style that most of us can probably look at a painting and know if it’s a Caravaggio, or Caravaggio-inspired. 

Merisi spent the first few years of his life in Milan, studying painting, and later moved to Rome, where his early talent impressed Cardinal Del Monte, who introduced the young painter to other high-profile Catholic figures who became commissioners of some of Caravaggio’s best work. It seemed there was no end to the artist’s creative genius. Caravaggio, much to his patron’s delight, would pump out one masterpiece after another. It seemed the more out of control his personal life became (cheating, brawling and murder were standard fare), the more his art would become more refined, more potent.

In the long list of masterpieces he left behind, both secular and religious works stand out. But it is perhaps in his religious works that the artistic transition of the master is more evident. Caravaggio is, in fact, known to have changed his style after harsh personal life experiences led him to reassess his outlook on life.

In May of 1606 Caravaggio took part in a deadly brawl in Rome and was charged with murder. He fled to Malta, in search of asylum from the Order of Saint John, a Catholic order dedicated to helping the sick and the poor. The order commissioned some of the most important late life works of the Milanese artist.

It is in these works that we notice the shift in Caravaggio’s art, from a strong focus on aesthetics to an interest in the spirituality of his subjects, which critics believe was motivated by his own introspection.

On the streets surrounding the churches and palaces, brawls and sword fights were regular occurrences. In the course of this desperate life Caravaggio created the most dramatic paintings of his age, using ordinary men and women - often prostitutes and the very poor - to model for his depictions of classic religious scenes.

By representing biblical characters in a naturalistic fashion, typically through signs of aging and poverty, Caravaggio's populist modernisation of religious parables were little short of trailblazing. Although not without his critics within the church, by effectively humanising the divine, Caravaggio made Christianity more relevant to the ordinary viewer.

For some, though, his art was too real. Bare shoulders, plunging necklines, severed heads; this raw humanity didn’t always fly in 17th century Rome. As a result, many of his pieces were rejected as altar pieces and as church hangings. One such piece, the Madonna of Loretto (now hanging in a church in Rome) was widely criticised upon its unveiling. The people of the day were shocked to behold the Mother of God leaning nonchalantly against a wall in her bare feet while holding baby Jesus in her arms.

It is ironic that the very art that today we consider “classical” and “iconic” to the Catholic faith was considered questionable and perhaps void of modesty and virtue. Yet, the fact remains that no individual artist has made such a lasting impression on the world of modern art. Truly, many have called Caravaggio the “first modern artist”. It is no surprise, then, that his style has sparked both widespread admiration and imitation throughout the centuries.

Before Pope John Paul II refined a theology of the body beautiful, Caravaggio's paintings suggested a reverence for the inherent beauty of human form.

Troubled though he may have been, his art speaks eloquently of the dignity of the mundane. Though the original medium may be weathered and cracked, the message of beauty still echoes down the centuries. And this same beauty still fuels, escapes and reduces artists to relentless seekers as surely and as forcefully as it did in Caravaggio's life.

[lukiechino]

Cardinal Broach

Spencer Reid x Reader

An unfinished wip I might continue if I get the inspiration back. Kinda based on the S13 E19, Ex Parte.

“Which color tells my mom I’m super-uber excited and not dreading having lunch with her?” I asked Spencer, showing him two outfits; one was a floral shirt paired with dark green pants and the other was a yellow and orange stripped pants with a white blouse. “Or should I go with my formal suit that I got for my friend’s wedding?”

Spencer locked up from his book on Edgar Allen Poe to examine the outfits with squinted eyes. “Well, if you want to appear excited, it’d be better to wear saturated, bright colors, since the brain’s pituitary and pineal glands are stimulated by light and that regulates more serotonin,” he said, knocking out the floral outfit. “But yellow can cause anxiety and shorts the temper of those looking at it.” So the other outfit was a no-go too.

“So the wedding suit?” I asked, tossing the outfits on a chair while I sat sown beside him with a sigh. “Getting ready to have lunch with my mom shouldn’t be this hard.”

“The wedding suit might make it appear you’re not being open or comfortable with your mom,” Spencer said. I groaned, before grabbing his arm and tugging him to the bedroom.

“C’mon, help me pick an outfit, Mr. Profiler.” Spencer put his book aside with a chuckle and let me pull him to my closet—stuffed full of bright patterned shirts and dresses.

“To start; what color should I wear?” I asked, sitting him down on the edge of the bed, in front of the closet.

“Orange or a bright teal would be good since Orange is the middle ground between yellow—which is a cheerful color—and red—which is an attentive color,” Spencer said. I grabbed a sleek button-up with orange flowers, a loose pastel orange top, a striped orange shirt, then a striking orange blazer.

“But it shouldn’t be overly formal or else you might be perceived as arrogant or dispassionate.” I threw out the floral shirt. “But it shouldn’t be too casual or she might think you didn’t put any thought into the outfit.” Then I threw out the pastel top.

“And,” I said before he could say anything else. “The resteurant we’re going is super duper fancy, and fancy places always have the air conditioning cranked to the max.” I said, tossing the thin striped shirt—I wasn’t about to bother finding the perfect coat for the shirt.

I hung the blazer on my doorknob, turning to my dresser. “Now I just gotta find a shirt and pants—do you think a white button-up and some brown pants will be okay?” I didn’t wait for Spencer’s response as I dug through my drawers.

“I think your mom will just be satisfied with you showing up,” Spencer said, taking the white shirt from me and pulling it over the ironing board.

“Thank you,” I said as pulled my legs through the tight brown pants on the edge of the bed. Spencer hummed as he ironed the shirt—leaving it as smooth as if it just came from the dry cleaners. “What jewelry should I go with?” I asked as I buttoned up my shirt.

Spencer, who sat on the edge with his book, pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Didn’t your mom give you a gold cardinal brooch?”

“That’s perfect!” I gasped, hurrying to one of my jewelry boxes stuffed into my nightstand. “Then I can wear my gold hanging earrings…” I hurriedly clipped on all my jewelry and grabbed my purse.

“Love you,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to Spencer’s cheek. “And thank you so much.”

“Be careful,” Spencer said, a small smile on his face as I left the room. I looked back at him smile. Even though he never said it, I liked to assume “be careful” was just his way of saying “I love you”.

“Stay safe at work, and call me if you got an away case, please,” I said, not wanting a repeat last week, where I came back to an empty home only to find out Spencer was all the way in California.

“I will,” he assured, sparing me one last smile before I left the apartment.

The resturant, as I predicted, felt as cold as a Alaskan winter night. I pulled my blazer closer to me as I wove through cloth table scattered about the dimly lit dining room until I found my mom sitting at a booth against the wall.

She was squinting at the drinks menu when she saw me and gasped. Mom stood up and hurriedly brought me into a bone crushing hug. “I missed you so so much, sweetie,” my mom whispered in my ear while her arms wrapped around me tightly. “Oh how have you been?”

“Good,” I said, awkwardly scooting into the booth. “Um, how’re you? And dad? And…” I wanted to avoid bringing up the topic of my brother so soon. “…everyone else?”

“Me and your dad are doing great. He’s still thriving in retirement, even picked up growing his own tomatoes,” Mom said. I scrunched up my face at the mention of the disgusting fruit. “Oh trust me, I know,” she chuckled.

A waiter strode over, smiling politely at me and Mom. “Hello, my name is Issac. Can I get you two lovely ladies started off with something to drink?” He asked, his attention immediately turning to me. My mom threw me a look that I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at.

“I’ll have water with lemon,” my mom said.

“Diet Dr. Pepper for me.” The waiter nodded curtly as he scribbled down our orders, gracefully walking off. My mom grinned at me and I sighed. “What?” I whispered.

“He’s cute,” my mom said, wiggling her eye brows. I rolled my eyes, leaning back. In her defense, she didn’t know I was dating anyone. But still, her desperation for me to find someone to get married to would always be uncomfortable.

“He is,” I said, trying to change the subject quickly. “What are you planning on getting?” I looked over the menu stuffed full of expensive Italian dishes, going down a list of pastas.

“Oh I don’t know, I might just go the basic route of spaghetti and meatballs,” Mom hummed. “What about you?”

“I might get this tortellini plate,” I said. “But switch the cheese ones with mushroom ones.” Mom pursed her lips, squinting at the menu.

“Now I don’t know what to get…it all sounds so good…”

I smiled, before Issac came over and slid our drinks in front of us alongside a small basket of lightly salted breadsticks. I took a deep breath, savoring the warmth and the fresh salty smell of the bread.

“You two ready to order?” Issac asked, pulling his miniature notepad out his apron. I looked at my mom, who just gestured for me to go first while she continued to look over the menu.

“Well, I’ll have the Tortellini plate,” I said, smiling up at Issac. “But can you swap out the cheese Tortellini with the mushroom ones?”

“Of course,” he answered, turning to my mom. “And you, ma’am?” My mom gave the menu one last look over before nodding.

“I’ll have the…Bombolotti all’Amatriciana,” my mom said slowly, trying her best to pronounce the dish.

“Two wonderful choices,” Issac said as he took up the menus. “Especially the Tortellini. The mushroom one is my favorite,” he chuckled, slipping some curly blond hair behind his ear.

As Issac walked off, my mom swatted my arm with a grin. “He’s into you.”

“Or he’s just being polite,” I said, taking a drink of my soda. “And besides, he’s not my type.”

“Oh and what would that type be?” My mom asked, leaning forward on her elbow.

I sighed. “I’m just not gonna date right now.”

“Why?” My mom asked, pursing her lips as she sipped on her water. “I was already married and had a kid at your age.”

“Mom, that was you, I’m not ready for that type of…stuff. I may not ever be ready.”

“Oh please, I need a grandkid,” my mom sighed. I pursed my lips and looked to the side, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Why don’t you pressure Jacob into having a kid this much?” I muttered, leaning back against the cushioned seat.

“This isn’t about Jacob, it’s about you,” Mom said, making me scoff. “Way to avoid the question,” I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth shut. “And at least he’s in a relationship—“

“I’m in a relationship,” I finally said.

“What—since when?” My mom asked.

I sighed. “Almost a year.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to. Can’t you accept the fact not everything in my life is your business?” I questioned, leaning onto my elbows as I stared at her.

“I’m your mother—you should at least tell me when you’re dating someone,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you want to?” She was talking like I was crazy and that only made me angrier.

Thankfully, Issac came by with two large plates in hand. He glanced between us and could tell we were in the middle of a quiet argument, so he didn’t linger, and just slid the food in front of us.

As soon as he walked away I leaned over my plate and whispered, “because I didn’t want you to pressure him like you do to me.”

“Don’t be so sensitive,” my mom said, unwrapping the napkin around her utensils. She plunged her fork into the pasta and ate her food as she glared at her plate. “I want to meet him,” she finally said after a moment of silence.

“When he wants to meet you, he will.” I just focused on my food, savoring the mushroom-stuffed pasta. It was better than focusing on my fuming mother, who gripped her fork until her knuckles turned white.

“And here I thought you could at least give me a peaceful lunch—guess I was wrong,” Mom huffed.

“I’m tryin—“

I couldn’t finished before screaming erupted from all around of us—followed by the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

[ms-fandomgirl]

Finn Ames and The Invisible Girl

Summary: Finn Ames hated drawing attention to himself. In fact, it was one of his cardinal rules of surviving the magical mess that was Easton Magic Academy, at least until Mash showed up. But what happens when he meets a girl who can keep an even lower profile than he can?

Pairing: Finn Ames x Reader

Genre: Fluff! Threat of bullying? But really no warnings

Word Count: 1,404

Cross-posted on Ao3!

Finn Ames hated drawing attention to himself. In fact, it was one of his cardinal rules of surviving the magical mess that was Easton Magic Academy.

Avoid Cavill and his cronies at all cost. Failing to do so could result in maiming, injury, or death.

If something is strange or unusual, leave it be. Failure to do so could also result in maiming, injury, or death. 

Receiving no attention is better than receiving full attention, because, you guessed it, receiving full attention could result in maiming, injury, or death.

Sure, the consequences sounded extreme, but he had been here since middle school, and by now, he had seen some things. He had also been extremely good at following these rules as well, at least until Mash showed up. Mash had challenged every single one of these rules which helped Finn survive, yet he had come out as the indisputable victor in all of them. His friend has also dragged him along for the ride as well.

He had to admit though, life was better now that Mash was here. Cavill all but ran when he caught sight of Mash, and Finn knew that no matter the obstacle, Mash could beat it with his fist.

However, right now, as he was sprinting down the halls of Easton, he wished that Mash had a slightly lower proclivity for trouble. It was the first day of the new term, yet things had somehow managed to already go horribly wrong. Mash’s flying stinkweed for potions had managed to escape containment, filling the dorm with flapping leaves and a noxious odor that most likely still clung to his clothes. And now, he was late to Magical Theory, knowing that Professor Mevitable would no doubt call him out when he entered the classroom.

Skidding to a stop at the entrance of the room, he made a futile attempt to straighten his uniform before silently opening the door. Except the door didn’t open silently. Instead, it let out a terribly loud and obnoxious screech as the rusted metal hinges grated on each other, abruptly silencing the room. He cringed as over twenty pairs of eyes turned his direction, freezing him in place.

“Good of you to decide to join us, Ames,” Professor Mevitable scolded.

She motioned to an empty seat near the front of the classroom. “Now, if you’re done causing a commotion, please take a seat.”

Finn’s heart dropped in his chest as snickers filled the air. Making his way down the aisle, it dropped even further as cruel, blue eyes glared back at him, a sneer painting Cavill’s face as he gestured to the empty seat beside him. Finn’s feet slowed as the gravity of his fate sunk in. There was no way his luck was so horrible as to let this happen, especially in the one class he didn’t share with Mash or any of his other friends. Against his wishes, his heart began to beat faster, breaths coming out in shallow gasps as he desperately tried to quell the panic rising in his chest.

“You can sit here, if you’d like,” a soft voice called out from his left.

Finn jumped as he was broken out of his reverie, his cheeks growing warm at being caught so deep within his own head, and by none other than a girl—you—staring up at him with wide eyes.

He looked at Professor Mevitable to see if she would care, but her back was already turned to the class as she scribbled something on the board. Taking one last glance at Cavill, who was still grinning like a cat that had caught a canary, Finn knew he only had one choice in the matter. He slid into the empty seat, giving you a relieved smile.

“Thanks for that,” he sighed. “You have no idea how much you just saved my life right there.”

You giggled, and Finn’s heart began to pick up pace again for an entirely different reason than before.

“Are you new here?” he asked, throwing out the first thought in his mind before he could get even more flustered and embarrass himself further. The plan backfired spectacularly though, as you shook your head.

“I’ve been here since middle school,” you replied. There was still a soft smile on your face, showing you had taken no offense, but Finn felt horrible. He had been there since middle school. And with your kind bail out, you almost certainly knew him and his history with the bully, but he didn’t even recognize your face, much less know your name.

“I-I’m so sorry-” he began, frantically stumbling to try and save the conversation.

You waved off his worries with a flick of your wrist. “It’s okay, I like to keep a low profile. Keeps me away from unnecessary trouble.”

That Finn understood well. “I do too, although I’ve been pretty bad at it lately.”

You laughed again, and Finn knew he definitely wanted to hear that sound again, even if it was at his own expense. He opened his mouth to continue, but your immediate silence and a looming shadow casting across the desk made him think otherwise. However, it was still too late.

“Is there a reason you’re disrupting my class again, Ames?” Professor Mevitable snapped. During their introductions, she had somehow sneaked up behind them, a slight tap of her heeled boot against the ground the only sound in the classroom as she waited for his response.

“No Professor,” he squeaked, tensing in fear. Professor Mevitable glared at him, taking in his state before deeming him adequately terrified. He was sure he looked absolutely pathetic.  

“Then I suggest you stay quiet before I decide you also need to stay after class.”

At last, she retreated to the front of the classroom, and Finn only sighed in relief once she began writing on the board once more.

The rest of the class passed in uneventful boredom. On one hand, Finn was relieved. He already had enough excitement for a whole week crammed into a Monday morning, and he didn’t want any more trouble. On the other hand, however, this also meant he didn’t get any more chances to talk to you. The most interaction between the two of you were friendly glances and a shared ink pot when he realized his had run dry. After what felt like a small eternity later, Professor Mevitable finally dismissed the class, and Finn’s time had come.

“Thanks again for letting me sit next to you. I’m sorry I didn’t know you existed until now,” Finn said, and then immediately cringed. That was not how he had wanted that to come out at all.

“It was no problem, really,” you replied, shrugging as you finished packing up your bag. “And hey, better late than never, right?”

Finn nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “I hope I’ll see you around, then? Or at least, I want to see you around again, if that’s okay with you. My friends are great, don’t get me wrong, but every time I’m with them something is bound to happen, and sometimes it’s nice to be a bit more easy going, you know? And you were so easy to be around that I just-”

He cut himself off, inwardly cursing at having rambled for so long in front of you. Any chance of wanting to be around him must have dramatically declined after that, right? But when he risked a glance up at you, he was shocked to see a light blush painting your cheeks and your lips upturned in a small smile.

“I want to see you around again too, Finn,” you said bashfully, before scurrying towards the door.

Finn wanted to follow you, maybe even walk with you to your next class, regardless of whether it was his next class too, but his feet remained firmly planted on the ground. You had just said his name for the first time. His name. It shouldn’t even be a big deal—he heard his name called out by many different people every day—but the way you said his name was different. It had sounded so sweetly melodic coming from your lips that he was frozen in place, only snapping out of his stupor when he realized you had left.

However, as Finn walked to his next class, he was nothing but determined—determined that he would see you, the invisible girl, again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Probably not my best work, but it was definitely fun! Finn immediately became my favorite character when I started watching Mashle, so I just had to write a little something for him. This was originally supposed to be bulleted headcanons or a small drabble, but I literally have no control. I have some ideas for more, both for Finn and other characters, but we'll see if I end up writing them. I've been in a bit of a writing slump, although this has helped me start to get out of it!

[theinseparables-if]

❝All for One, and One for All.❞

Based on the novel The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas, as well as subsequent media inspired by and related to it.

After the tragic death of your father, you travel to Paris to join the famed King’s Musketeers, and end up meeting (and upsetting) the three best Musketeers in the garrison. Impressed by your skills and your determination, as well as your willingness to help those in need, the trio invite you to join their team.

Thus begins your new life as the youngest Musketeer and fourth member of the Inseparables, d’Artagnan.

18+ for sometimes graphic depictions of violence, injuries, and blood, explicit sexual content (which will be optional), depictions of abduction, kidnapping, torture, and mutilation, mentions of past and current emotional and physical abuse, instances of period-typical classism, prostitution, alcohol consumption and alcoholism, vomiting, mental health issues, subtle mentions of infertility (Queen Anne’s), and murder and attempted murder.

Join the Musketeers and become a member of the famed group dubbed ‘The Inseparables’.

Customise your d’Artagnan’s appearance and identity (male/female/nonbinary & cis/trans).

Personality is semi-set to begin with. d’Artagnan is loyal, kind, noble, and passionate. They take their duties to protect very seriously, but can be extremely hot-headed and reckless. Over time, as d’Artagnan matures and lives through all kinds of experiences, players will have more personality options available to them.

Four characters available to romance with one poly option. A friends with benefits (non-exclusive) option with Aramis and a one night stand option with Milady are also available.

Create meaningful relationships with characters other than the romance options.

Discover who is responsible for the death of your father while completing missions and keeping your charges and your loved ones safe.

Athos/Athena [M/F]

Appearance + Profile

As a natural-born leader who is highly intelligent and respectable, it’s little wonder that everyone looks up to them. However, Athos/Athena’s past haunts them leaving them reserved, yet prone to allowing their emotions to get the better of them, and afraid to fully trust again. This doesn’t stop them from being deeply kind and supportive though.

Athos/Athena is the second in command of the Musketeers, the leader of the Inseparables, and is barely holding their head up above water. Meeting you is an awakening for them, and suddenly, all they want is to live again.

Conrad/Constance Bonacieux [M/F]

Appearance + Profile

Conrad/Constance hides a fierce heart and adventurous spirit beneath their gentle disposition. Married to a man who they hold no affection for, and who treats them like part of the furniture, Conrad/Constance chafes against their banal life, dreaming of excitement and thrills. When you literally crash into their life, they realise that this is the opportunity they’ve been waiting for.

Despite a somewhat…rocky first meeting, Bonacieux is the first truly friendly face you meet when you arrive in Paris. They even offer you a room to rent in their home, and often go out of their way to help you in your duties.

Nasira bin Sinan [NB]

Appearance + Profile

Lazy and care-free, Nasira is seemingly unbothered by the goings-on of the Capital or by their sworn duties. Despite this, Nasira is well-liked by their fellows and often trusted to complete high-priority covert missions that rely on stealth by the Captain. Through this, you quickly start to realise that nothing about Nasira is as it seems.

Nasira is somewhat of an enigma, and the missions that they undertake only heighten that. Join Nasira on these missions and learn valuable skills as well as more about the Musketeer that keeps everyone guessing.

Jules/Juliette de Rochefort [M/F]

Appearance + Profile

The most ruthless of the Cardinal’s Agents, Jules/Juliette is determined to destroy the Musketeers, and is willing to do anything to achieve that goal. Intelligent and calculating, it was only a matter of time before their ambition drove them to extremes, and now they’ve set their sights on you. In Jules/Juliette’s eyes, you’re the key to their success.

Rochefort believes they can manipulate you into betraying the Musketeers. It’s time for you to prove them wrong, and turn this back on Rochefort to protect your fellows. Just try not to fall in love in the process.

POLY - Athos/Athena & Conrad/Constance

Written Descriptions of the ROs

[osiiiris]

Perfect.

I know, I know, the Cardinal!Terzo x Bishop!Necropolitus Cracoviensis pairing still seems strange to you, but shhh… don’t say anything. Just let me hold your hand and guide you to a room where Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis’ hands are moving swiftly as he sketches Cardinal Terzo's form on his paper.

Think about Bishop Necropolitus, who cannot help but admire the cardinal’s body, the way the candlelight, the only source of illumination, plays across his skin, how it highlights the veins in his arms, the sharp lines of his collarbones, then down through his contracted torso to the subtle V just above the red cloth that barely manages to cover his most precious parts. Just enough muscle to suggest strength, but not so much that he appears overly muscular, it expresses vitality even while sitting on a chair, evoking in the Bishop the image of a resting wrestler, a subject he has seen many times in ancient sculptures.

Terzo’s face is turned toward the wall on his right, giving Necropolitus his Roman profile, but he peers at him from the corner of his eye through the black locks of his hair from time to time.

“Maybe we should have had a bit of music…” the Cardinal suggests.

An amused smile almost escapes Necropolitus’ lips as he realizes how unquiet Terzo seems, and how all that immobility and silence must feel like a sweet torture to him.

“Maybe next time, yes,” the Bishop agrees. “Now, please, don’t move your head.”

Satisfied with being the one giving orders today, the Bishop focuses back on the sketch. 

You can understand how he’s entranced by the way Terzo’s muscles tense and relax as he shifts his pose, how his chest rises and falls with each breath. He can feel life coursing through his veins, that unrestrained energy, impatience for action. Terzo is clearly not made to stand still. Also, he’s probably used to being naked in front of people, proud and comfortable as someone who has forgotten the meaning of shame.

A pair of clinking goblets and a joke, a “You could pose for me,” had been all it took to convince Terzo to sit on that chair in his studio. “Yeah, why not. I could pose for you.” 

Not that he needed much persuasion to undress and be admired.

“Is the pose okay?” the Cardinal asks. “Do you want me to-”

“No.” Necropolitus looks up from his work, a split second enough for their eyes to meet. That sounds like an excuse to finally move. “You’re perfect,” he reassures between one stroke of charcoal and the next. His gaze has now fallen on the trail of hair starting from Terzo's navel and disappearing under the cloth on his lap. “Perfect,” he then repeats, this time almost whispering to himself.

Imagine they have been working together for weeks now, preparing for Terzo’s rise as the leader of the satanic church, even though the road is still a long one. But Terzo does not want to sit on that throne unprepared: he is planning a revolution. Under the dim light of candles or golden sun rays in the afternoon, Necropolitus could only focus on Terzo’s moving lips while he explained his plans, those plump lips - often painted black - dancing around his words of renovation dreams, the music he will play, the art he will bring, and how everything will be different when he takes the lead. And Necropolitus believes him -oh, Sathanas, if he does… picturing him sitting on his throne, majestic and powerful, is the image that often accompanies him in his dreams at night where he can only dream of kneeling at his feet... Maybe he should start to draw those visions.

“Is this everything you need, Necropolitus?” Terzo’s voice is smooth, but you can feel a hint of provocation in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

And now you can see Terzo, returning the artist’s lingering gaze, allows a small, knowing smile to play at the corners of his lips: Necropolitus is no exception. There is power in this, being the object of such intense desire, and he thrives in it, feeling the energy around him shift and thicken with every passing moment.

Very naive of Necropolitus to think he was the one in charge the whole time.

“This project is important. I need you to capture all of it. Every detail, every shadow, every… part.” Terzo’s smile becomes sly as he breaks his position. The light dances on his moving body.

The more Necropolitus looks at Terzo, the harder it becomes to keep his thoughts pure. His breath hitches as Terzo’s hand reaches the sheer cloth covering his nudity and, to the Bishop’s surprise, he not only changes position but stands and steps closer until he stands just inches away from him.

“I want you to take everything.”

And in a swift yet graceful movement of his hand, the cloth finally falls to the floor...

[leezlelatch]

A Cardinal Truth

It’s time to worship that belly and those thighs like they deserve. NSFW. Minors DNI.

Cardinal Copia x Reader, ~2,600k words AO3 Link

Belly worship, thigh worship, love handles, self deprecating comments,

You watch from your place at the edge of the bed as Copia pulls the suspenders from his shoulders, letting them hang loose at his sides while he meticulously places his coat jacket on the hanger which he claims has the miraculous ability to chase away creases.

He clears his throat, the light of the lamp on the dresser catching the features of his profile as he stands in front of the closet door. You admire his long nose, the curve of his brow, his full lips. His upper lip twitches, his mustache jumping with it. You enjoy how the soft light accentuates the little flyaway hairs he misses when he trims, somewhat longer than the others in his otherwise maintained facial hair.

A piece of brown hair tinged with silver falls over his forehead, and after his suit jacket is hung straight with the others in a pattern which Copia claims is very important - black, red, white - he smooths his hair back. You hold a pillow in your lap and squeeze it to you as you bite your lip and smile. Just watching Copia perform his nightly routine is an intimate act for you, your heart bursting with the knowledge that you get to see him like this. Not the right hand of Papa Nihil, the second most employee of the month Cardinal, but merely Copia. Overworked, exhausted, but insistent you spend your evenings together no matter how late or tired he is Copia.

You watch as he moves toward the mirror next to his dresser, a hand scrubbing over his face as he looks at himself. You watch as he squints as if in displeasure, his fingers lightly ghosting over the wrinkles at his eyes, visible now his make up has been removed. He pulls his white undershirt from his pants and lifts it over his head, his hair a veritable bird’s nest that he attempts to tamper down once he tosses the shirt aside.

His back and neck are covered in the light freckles you know travel across his chest and down his arms. You can just make out the front of him through the reflection of the mirror, his chest covered in downy brown hair interspersed with wiry gray that you know Copia hates. Sometimes you catch him plucking the gray hairs from his chest.

You hear Copia grumble, and your eyes snap up to his which are trained miserably on his midsection. He grabs a handful of his belly, just protruding slightly over his pants and gives it a wiggle while he whispers self-deprecating Italian. The thickness of his hips and thighs are only accentuated through the tight black pants of his suit, and he turns to the side looking himself up and down.

You’re getting up and crossing the small space without a thought, your fingers grabbing for his soft skin as you wrap yourself around his frame.

“Amore!” He gasps, his arms coming up as you duck beneath them, nuzzling your cheek into his bare skin.

You sigh happily, your fingers tracing over the curve of his rigatoni blamed pudge, dancing down his happy trail to the edge of his trousers. Copia’s breath hitches as he gazes down at you, his lips parted slightly as his pupils begin to dilate from the heat simmering in the belly your attentions are so immensely focused on.

“What are you doing, dolce?” He whispers, biting his lip when you press a kiss to his love handles.

“Can I tell you a secret, Copia?” You say, smiling prettily up at him as you rest your chin on his middle.

“Hmm?” He questions, not trusting his voice. Copia runs his fingers through your hair, mesmerized by your actions.

“I love this part of you. I love how soft you are, how your suit hugs your curves. I think you’re beautiful.”

His immediate reaction is to scoff, his eyes finding his reflection in the mirror. He frowns at the way his midsection juts out from his hips, a fact he can usually hide within his belted cassocks. Copia loves his sweets, and in his old age, the little cakes and chocolates are going right to his thighs. They fill his pants, already sinfully tight, the skin around his dick even affected by his bad habits, the shape of him easily identifiable. 

“This isn’t attractive, amore,” he sighs, his gaze turning to you. His fingers leave your hair to gently press against your cheek. “Although you are sweet for saying so.”

“Yes it is,” you say, your eyes wide and sincere. “Every time you take off your shirt I want to grab you and never let go.”

“Get off the floor, please,” Copia says, pulling at your arms fruitlessly as you do not budge an inch.

“Copia,” you place a hand on his chest, letting your fingers slide down the length of him. He shivers. “See yourself through my eyes. You are everything.”

“But I am old,” he gasps.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, pressing another kiss to his skin.

“I am…flabby, in places.”

“Yes.”

“I am wrinkly,” he says, his voice shaking.

“Yes,” your thumbs rub circles into his sides.

“I look frightening.”

“You can look quite intimidating sometimes in the right light,” you concede. Your lips tease around his belly button.

Copia grips the edge of his dresser, and growls, his brow furrowed, “And!?”

You look back up at him and smile, “And I love every bit of it. Every bit of you. All of you. For all that you are. You are my Copia.”

He stares down at you with wide eyes, his hair falling into his face, sweat on his brow. Copia blinks and a tear falls, hitting your cheek. You do not flinch as it slides downs your face to catch at your chin. Your eyes are only for him. You want him to see and understand that you love him. So incredibly and so deeply.

“Amore, amore mio,” he whimpers, his hands coming up to cradle your face. More tears fall, sliding down his ruddy cheeks as he sniffles in an attempt to control his emotions. “I love you. Ti amo. You have my heart in your hand, cosa preziosa. Do you feel it beating for you?”

Copia,” you whisper, your eyes shining with the breadth of your own emotion. You move out of his grip to place hot kisses all over his skin, pressing your nose into the roundness of his belly. “Let me show you what I can do with more than your heart.”

Your fingers slide up his thighs, curling your hands around the thickness of them, the fabric of his pants smooth against your palms. The pants are so tight to his skin you can hardly grab a handful of his thighs. Your lips continue to press kisses all over his belly and around his belly button, nipping at the hairs there.

Copia uses both hands to grip the edge of the dresser now, his breath blowing harshly out of his nose as he closes his eyes against the feeling of you kissing and touching places he often feels unsettled by. As a couple, the both of you are no strangers to sex, but there is a deeper intimacy in these secret erogenous places he had no clue could affect him so.

As you press yourself closer to him, Copia squirms when you brush against the aching hardness which strains against the prison of his trousers. You pull back to admire it, the curved outline making you blush and rub your thighs together. You hear a dark chuckle above you and raise your eyes, Copia smirking down at you with a tilted head, his white eye nearly iridescent.

“Do you like looking?” His voice is low, rasping, each syllable winding around his Italian accent. “Do you like to see what you do to your Cardinal?”

He rolls his hips toward you, arching them toward your lips, his cock shifting in his pants. You see a desperation behind his feral expression, Copia hiding behind the mask of the Cardinal, overwhelmed by your affection. You dart forward and kiss him through the fabric, rock solid against your lips before biting down on the skin of the underside of his belly. Copia’s hips jerk and he gasps, a sudden intake of breath hissing through his teeth.

Your intention is to leave bruises, marks of your love all over his skin and you pepper little love bites up and down his belly, sucking hard at the sensitive flesh near the center that has him bucking toward you again. His dominant expression crumbles into sweet surrender, a mewl escaping his parted lips.

“Satana, cosa mi stai facendo? Mi sento così bene, così bene, amore mio,” Copia murmurs frantically, his voice nearly breathless as he moans into the quiet of the bedroom.

You unbuckle his pants and slide the zipper down, his cock springing free from its confines. It bobs in place, jerking, searching for relief, searching for your touch. The tip shines with precum and you move very close, your lips nearly a hairbreadth away from brushing against the red and needy skin. You glance up at your Copia and his eyes are wide, eyebrows raised dramatically as he waits to see what you will do. He whines.

“Touch me, oh touch me, per favore,” he begs.

You grip his hips, closing the distance between your face and his need, but you merely allow your cheek to slide against the side of his cock, a cheeky look crossing your features as Copia watches you with rapt attention. That slight, gentle, soft friction has him pressing himself harder against you, confusion etched across his face as you continue your trek until your nose brushes against the plush skin of his pubis, the wiry hairs tickling your face.

You kiss there and he nearly buckles.

His thighs, covered in soft dark hair, are thick, but strong. The muscles flex under your hand as you finish removing his trousers, flinging them to the side, the suspenders attached to them clacking as they hit the floor.

Copia is wiggling, his hips moving left and right as he throbs. He’s taking deep, cleansing breaths as he watches a drop of precum collect at the tip of his cock. You drag your fingernails across his thighs, delighting in the way the dresser shakes behind you as he pushes and pulls against it.

You take the very edge of your finger and gently remove that glistening drop, hearing Copia’s breath catch as you inspect it carefully for a moment before gazing up at him with a most innocent expression, bringing your finger to your mouth. You watch his eyes widen while his pupils narrow as he watches you lick his desire from your skin. It drives him mad, his hand coming down to slap yours away from your mouth to accept his searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth with desperation, wrapping around yours in an attempt to taste the saltiness on your tongue.

You pull away sharply and grab his chin, staring into his eyes. His chest heaves, his breath hot against your face.

“Don’t be bad,” you tease.

Copia’s face flushes, but there’s a new sharpness to his gaze, a slow confidence building there.

“Cattivo, amorino? I will show you bad when I have you spread before me,” he promises.

You suck in a breath, a small noise leaving your mouth which absolutely delights him. A smirk twists at his mouth when he catches you moving your hips to try and stifle the pure ache you've felt between your legs since you started to watch him undress. Wanting to gain back control, not finished with the utter worship of your lover's body, you wrap your hands around and squeeze his butt, enjoying the squeak that leaves his mouth as you pull his hips close to you once more.

You begin to lavish his thighs with kisses and bites, sucking hard on the pliant skin of his inner thigh. Copia buries his fingers in your hair. Your fingers knead and prod, massaging his thighs in tandem with your kisses. Each sweep of your lips in that special crease where his thigh meets the pubic area has him keening, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Copia's hips stutter against your touch, humping at the air. His cockhead is swollen and red, weeping and desperate.

You turn your attention to his other thigh, not willing to leave a single inch of these deliciously plump areas untouched. You bite at him and pull just a little, the skin jiggling back into place and he jumps, a high-pitched moan escaping him. You glance up at him. He's breathing heavily, his lips parted, wet around the mouth. His eyes are tightly shut, and the sweetest little "ah, ah, ah"s leave him as his entire body positively shivers under your ministrations.

"Copia," you say his name softly, your hand raising to grab the flesh of his belly.

His head shoots down and he opens tear stained eyes, his face open and pleading.

"I love you," you tell him. You try to infuse your words with every bit of honesty and truth.

His bottom lip quivers as he smiles, his hands leaving your hair to cup your face. He looks at you as if you are the only thing in his world that matters. You are the only thing in his world that matters.

"And I love you," he whispers. "So much. So deeply. I love you."

Keeping eye contact, you cup his balls with one hand, your other hand wrapping around the hot flesh of his cock. Copia's fingers tighten around your cheeks, and he gasps, his hips jumping. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a string of unintelligible Italian as you pump your hand back and forth. He arches into you, thrusting himself into your hand. His movements rock you both, and you allow yourself to simply be taken into his rhythm. 

His breath picks up, his whimpers steady and growing louder until he's nearly falling on top of you, his legs giving out. You hold him close as his body shakes head to toe, and you feel ropes of his cum land on your stomach. He becomes pudding in your arms, laying heavily against you on the floor, his face buried in your neck as he attempts to settle his racing heart. Your fingers draw circles on his back, your lips pressing kisses to any piece of skin you can reach in your position.

Copia sighs, his arms tighten around you for a moment before he pulls back, looking at you softly for several seconds and leaning in reverently to kiss your lips.

"Thank you," he breathes against them. "You don't know how - " His voice breaks and he goes silent.

You cup his face much the way he did yours and kiss his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids.

"You're perfect, just the way you are," you say.

He wobbly smiles and buries his face against you once more. You allow yourself to be lost in his embrace, warm and content, until you feel him begin to nibble against your neck, his mustache scratching against your skin.

"Amore," his voice is a purr. "Remember what I said about having you spread before me?"

****

The next morning, you wake with bleary eyes, stretching, enjoying how relaxed your muscles feel while the throb between your legs reminds you of just how grateful Copia was the night before.

Speaking of...your eyes do not find him beside you in the bed, and you scan the room until they fall on him standing once more before the mirror.

He's completely nude, a cup of coffee in one of his hands and he turns this way and that as he admires the bruises littering his belly and thighs. He chuckles softly and slaps a hand to his belly.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they are warm and happy.