#sandro the dog

[stuff-diary]

Ok, so here we are. I'm gonna get it out of the way right away: When the World Tips Over is absolutely worth the wait. I must admit it's kind of overwhelming at the beginning, or maybe the right word is 'daunting'; there's just so many characters, plot threads, styles and formats. But still, once everything is in place, the book grips your soul and basically never lets go. Seeing all the pieces fall into place is a truly powerful experience. And really, Jandy Nelson's prose is masterful. You can tell how much work has gone into making this novel the best version of itself. There's a word in English which I really love, and it's the most appropriate way to describe Nelson: she's a wordsmith, period. What she does with her writing in this book is just masterful. Even the little things I wasn't feeling at first, like the instalove beginnings for some of the romantic plots, ended up winning me over. So yeah, I can tell these characters and their family saga will stay with me for a long, long time. Look, I hope we don't have to wait another decade for her next work, but if it's gonna be as brilliant as this and I'll Give You the Sun, I'm more than willing to wait.

[literatureloverx]

damn does this mean fyodor doesn’t like brown girlies </3

I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding! When I described Fyodor’s ideal type, I was imagining women as portrayed by artists in the Renaissance, Victorian, and Neoclassical eras.

Also, many biblical paintings depict human beings as pale and almost sickly (Fyodor has that exact vibe too, so his darling would be someone fitting to his aesthetic).

I had images like Botticelli’s "The Birth of Venus," Frank Dicksee’s "Miranda," Miguel Carbonel Selva's "Death of Sappho," and John Everett Millais’ "Ophelia," as well as Friedrich Heyser’s "Ophelia" in mind.

I was indeed thinking of white women, but his ideal type could be interpreted as fragile and pale, almost in a sickly way—not just in terms of skin color, but in a more unhealthy, fragile sense. I hope that makes sense? 🥺❤️

To read my other works => MASTERLIST

[pitstopfc]

sandro getting the only baby at a family event or puppy at a party treatment

[dogandcatcomics]

#repost @sandrokopp Sandro Kopp (Scotland, b. Germany, 1978-). Paintings of Snoopy.

[nights-flying-fox]

*Catifies your Sandro* @leo-kinnie

( July 2023 vs January 2023 )

[guy60660]

Dante | Sandro Botticelli | Dante Dog | Tess Tomassini

[simcoesleftear]

TURNsgiving Day 2: What do you think a character's favorite song would be? OR pick a song you think best exemplifies your favorite character.

I'm doing Simcoe, of course.

Lots of ramblings under the cut 🥰

I didn't go for the option of choosing what I think would be his favorite because I haven't the faintest idea. He's full of surprises.

If he listened to contemporary music, I do suspect he'd be into some pretty emo/scene bands, though. Something like, emotional, edgy, "different", even a bit cringy; the stuff you're into mostly when you're an angsty teenager or remember fondly from those years, basically because he is kind of a big, emo, misunderstood child to me. I also think he'd have "guilty pleasures" (or maybe not so guilty? Does this man even know what guilt or shame are?) that would come from totally different genres of music and artists you would not "expect" him to listen to. Maybe something like, idk, Lana del Rey or something. I'm not sure enough to name specific artists for this either but he'd most likely be into romantic, dramatic ballads and music too.

NOW I do have a few songs that remind me of him though... lol. And I'm holding myself back because I actually have a little playlist I made of songs that remind me of my Simcoe x Turn OC fic (it'd be unfair to add them too because most of them remind me of either their dynamic or my OC herself).

Again, idk if he'd actually listen to these, but the ones I've added are coincidentally angsty, heavier (more death metal, though, not emo/scene) songs and a romantic one, haha.

This song literally opens with the line "I killed them all, of course" and also has:

Label me, however you like I am no villain, I am just, just like you

I'm no villain! I am just like you We're in the business of self-preservation I'm no villain! I am just like you We're in the business of self-preservation

The only grave worth lying in Is the one you dig yourself

Need I explain this one? lol

And from the same band (it's one of my faves 🤷‍♀️):

Catch me if you can I am faster than your mind can fathom Armed with the element of surprise I slither through the corners of your eyes Pull me inside your wildest dreams I will follow - I will follow In the wreckage of what I perceive I will follow - I will follow I'll take your unwillingness And make you crumble! I'll take your hesitance And watch you burn!

I don't know, this song just sort of captures Simcoe's essence to me but I'm not sure I can really explain why, but it has to do with his polarity.

Simcoe's been attributed dog-like characteristics a few times during the show: he's been called a bloodhound, a mad dog. Clinton, in the last episode, also compared him to the dogs they use for hunting, saying the hunt and following orders are all they know. And even if his motivations were misguided, I dare say Simcoe intended to act as Anna's guard dog, even if she didn't want him to either. That's just his idea of protection. To me, he's all these things: a mad attack dog who'll also guard you, follow you, and be fiercely loyal.

In the lyrics you get this sense of menace but also something "sweeter" and more mellow, specially in the "I will follow" parts. It's not entirely because of the lyrics either: the vocals range from growling to clean, melodic ones (and they're all coming from the same singer as well! Which is not a minor detail! Symbolism?). That sort of mixture is something I'll automatically relate to Simcoe.

And last but not least:

The lyrics are very poetic, and even though Sandro was the ultimate romantic (that and his sensuality were most of his brand), they sort of reminded me of Simcoe's poem for Anna: dramatic, a bit cheesy, so full of longing and surrender to one's lover, who is described using embellished metaphors.

But my favorite part's the chorus, because it repeats:

Si quieres yo te doy el mundo Pero no me pidas que no te ame así

Which means:

If you want, I'll give you the world But don't ask me not to love you like this

Ouch. Gets me every time 😭

Lol at first I thought I had no idea about how to go about this and ended up making this whole thing 😭 anyway that's it :)

[leo-kinnie]

AYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOO

HELLO!! long time no see huh?? i'm back and with an animation meme!! (it's my first one, so i'd love feedback) this one's inspired by @leo-kinnie's oc CF!Sandro :D (all fanarts at the end can be found at CF!Sandro's toyhouse)

i was listening to his playlist and couldn't help but to do the animation! hope u like it ^^

[peterfurisfluffy]

i will never read another book after When the World Tips Over by Jandy Nelson. it is my soul. Miles, dizzy, wynton, cassidy, sandro—they are all me. i cannot decide if i love this more than sun but idk…

jandy nelsons book are me. if you could describe myself, just her books. she puts who i am into words. crazy. anyways, time to go study poetry and bake and talk to dogs and find out my whole family tree and find out the dark scary secrets

[nibbyzor]

MBTI LEGACY CHALLENGE - GEN 1: INFJ

More campground fun in Granite Falls! Sandro (who aged up into an adult dog) has the "hunter" trait and kept getting sprayed by a skunk, to the dismay of his fellow campers.

[leo-kinnie]

Lin you say send asks about sandros meanwhile every day I have the lil guy turning in my head and if I wasn't an anxious mess I'd probably spam your askbox (or dms) with 100 questions/pos /lh

Tell us everything about the sillies. His favorite drinks his favorite places, OOOH WHERW WOULD HE WANNA GO MOST???

-☆staranon☆

dog i'd be so enthusiasic if you ever did send any asks abt them. im ALWAYS fighting off the urge to rant about them bc i dont wanna annoy anyone 😭

Sandro's fav drinks are anything carbonated his ass likes the fizzle smfh. BUT ALSO his fav place in the entire world is Leo's room. It's his safe space and he is more often than not found THERE if he's not by Leo's side ill be real

[leo-kinnie]

HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL IN YOUR STYLE OH MY GODD ?!??!? THE BROTHER-CODED RINGS OHHHHH IM GOING INSANE

Regret: 0

Spite: 100

Wrist/Finger pain: *internal screaming*

Muahahahaha @leo-kinnie

[auntarivia]

Eyes of my friend

A one-shot about Romania seeing undead Sandro for the first time.

I was bored and wanted to write about my girl. New year resolution - share more about Roma. Starting today (5 days before new year).

Anyway enjoy.

The orders were clear. Stay near the borders, watch for Sandro trying to cross, wait until he gets close. They couldn't go either on the Erathia's or Deyja's territories, since, as Lord Ufretin said, "We want to stop the Necromancer, not start a war."

It was eating Romania from the inside.

A few weeks ago, she got a report from the field about how Jeddite failed and his forces had to fall back to Nighon. It didn't contain much details about Warlock as the report wasn't even intended for her – it was a copy that her Lord received gods know how long ago and it was sent to her with orders that summarised the situation and only emphasised that she and the other capitans were to stay "vigilant" and "ready" or simply – how Romania saw it – useless.

Romania sent the messenger back with a request to get a more detailed report about casualties on Nighon's side but she could only hope that her Lord would agree on sending his scouts out there to gather the intelligence. Of course, she justified it reasonably, claiming it would be useful to know how much support they could still get, how powerful Sandro was and what he was capable of, and other simply tactical reasons like that. She wouldn't just write "I need to know if my boyfriend is alive."

But gods, she really wanted to know if he was alive.

Stay, watch, and wait. Stay, watch, wait. Stay. Watch. Wait. Like an obedient dog. Not that Romania wasn't used to being one – as a soldier, her whole life was about listening to orders, and usually she had no problem with waiting, but this time it wasn't just a normal war, hunt or battle. This time, it was a fight against someone she trusted, who used to be her friend and now betrayed her, and hurt or probably even killed her partner.

No, Romania shook her head, Jeddite is not dead. I know it. No matter how far Sandro has fallen, he wouldn't kill his best friend.

Right?

Romania kept walking around the camp hidden under the trees, and anxious thoughts kept bothering her mind. Stay. Watch. Wait.

"Capitan, ma'am!"

Romania almost jumped when she heard the scout calling her. She stopped, stood straight, and looked towards a young, slim elf that ran towards her.

"Capitan! I saw the Necromancer and his troops west from here, going north, an hour from Captain Gaie's squad!"

"How long ago?!" asked Romania way louder than she planned.

"No longer than half an hour, ma'am!"

"Did you see the Necromancer? Are you sure it was him?" Her voice was shaking, and she was sure the scout noticed it.

"It was a figure on a black horse, in dark clothes, and with two dozens undead marching with it. I'm pretty sure it was him!"

"But did you–" Romania bit her tongue before finishing the sentence. She knew that Sandro had at least one more Necromancer on his side that the scout might have seen instead of him, and she didn't want to waste time on chasing one of his minions, but the scout wouldn't recognise Sandro anyway and her orders clearly stated that she was supposed to wait on her station unless the other squads needed her help.

But what if it was Sandro? Was she about to just let the other Capitan take him?

"Sound the alarm! We are moving now!" she stated and started walking towards the stables.

"But ma'am!" the scout trotted next to her. "Weren't we supposed to stay in our area and–"

"Sandro is strong," Romania cut him half–sentence. "One squad won't stop him. Even if Gaie has her archers, Sandro has the kind of magic that arrows will do nothing against. They will need help. We are going now and we are surrounding him!"

"Yes, ma'am!" the scout didn't protest anymore, just ran to pass her orders.

Five minutes later, they were already going. Romania's squad was made of pegasus riders and archers, swiftly moving through the woods.

Too slow, thought Romania while barely stopping herself from making Achates fly up and over the trees. She wanted to get there as fast as possible before either Sandro annihilates the other army or Gaie puts an arrow through his head, and she wasn't sure which one she was more afraid of. Part of her still couldn't believe that her friend became a twisted undead and overambitious Necromancer, which was one of the reasons why she needed to see him with her own eyes. That and the bloodthirsty desire to cut his traitorous head of his shoulder.

The forest was silent, too silent. According to the scout they should've been getting close. At this point, Romania should've been able to hear the sounds of a fight, even if they surrounded Sandro and caught him from behind. Was the fight over already?

Right before they left the forest, Romania stopped and gestured on her soliders to do the same. Way in front of them, through an empty field, where the forest continued to grow, was hoovering a thick, green cloud. Through it she was able to notice a few moving silhouettes. After a moment the fog started to collapse and uncovered bodies laying scattered on the ground, with few skeletons moving around, while in the middle was standing a person wearing dark blue robes, and, despite being so far away, Romania knew it was him.

She saw movements between the trees, glimpses of white bones noticable against the greens. Undead pushed elfes back to the forest and were fighting there.

Romania sent another gesture towards her soliders and they continued to move along the forest line, still hidden from the Necromancer, trying to get as close as possible without getting noticed.

Sandro kept standing between the bodies, still like a tree, while his cape was waving on the wind. Romania kept her eyes on him, watching his every subtle movement. Slowy, Necromancer started raising his hands, with glimpses of a soft green light dancing on his fingers. Romania's face went pale. She realised what he was doing before even the first bodies started to move. She shouted the orders, and her troops jumped from between the trees as Sandro's first animated undead started walking towards the woods, with more still rising. Capitan with terror saw how previously dead elfes were getting on their legs, sometimes just as clean, white skeletons, sometimes with flesh still dripping on their bones.

Sandro must've finally heard them as he turned his head towards the uncomming troops. New bodies stopped rising and his attention seemed to be fully focused on the new enemies. Now Romania was able to see his pale, collapsed face and light long hair falling on his shoulders. A grin appeared on his lips and he rapidly turned his hand towards them.

Romania recognised the spell and lifted Achates up in the air right before lighting struck the ground.

"To the forest, support Gaie!" shouted Romania to her soliders and turned pegasus towards the Necromancer. "This bastard is mine."

Her adjutant led the troops according to Capitan's orders while she flew towards her target. She was seeing red, her fingers clenching on the reins and for a moment she held her breath. As she got closer, she could've swear that Sandro's face adjusted and became even more familiar.

She struck from above, but her sword bounced from the magic barrier that Sandro put between them. The force of her hit pushed her hand away and caused her to lose her balance. She dodged lighting bold that flew inches above her head and realised that Achates was too open on the magick from below. She turned the mount around to once more face the Necromancer, but this time, right before the strike, she turned Achates to fly up while she herself jumped on the ground and rolled to amortise the fall. It disoriented Sandro, who missed another shot and then turned toward her while Achates flew away. Romania didn't waste a second and swung her sword that bounced from ebony armour on Sandro's chest. She narrowed her eyes. She had never seen this kind of armour before, and she felt dark magic pulsating from it. "Armour of the Damned". The cursed artefact that they were warned about.

It's an armour, she thought to herself, and every armour can be destroyed.

"Romania!" Sandro raised his hands in a greeting gesture while the devilish smile was still present on his face. "I was getting afraid that I might miss you! It's good to see that you were just as eager to meet me as I was to meet you, old friend."

"Shut up!" she shouted through her teeth and attacked, aiming for the weak spots in the armour, yet she missed as she had to avoid another spell.

"Eloquent as always," he mocked her while teleporting a few feet away. "Jeddite at least gave me a little talk before trying to burn me alive. Don't you wanna try to talk me out of it? Reason with me?"

"I have nothing to tell you!" She charged at him, swinging her sword that Necromancer once more pushed away. It seemed pointless to keep attacking him like that, but Romania knew how to fight magic–users. They had a limited amount of magica, exhausting them and playing on time was the key. She was also taking his attention from the main fight, which gave her troops a chance against the undead.

More merciless strikes fell on Sandro, and Romania saw how his grin pales. Finally, she struck his face, cutting through his cheek, yet instead of familiar feeling of steel slashing through the fles, she heard a grinding sound of cutting a bone. Sandro's face flickered and for a moment became transparent, showing white scull under it. Illusion.

Romania froze for a second. So he truly was an undead. A damn skeleton.

"My, my," Sandro touched his cheek and his face became human once more. "You are even more fierce than Jeddite!" He chuckled. "You must hate me even more than I thought! Is this betrayal that fuels you? Oh, or perhaps you think about your poor boyfriend? You know what happened to him, don't you?"

Romania clenched her teeth and hardly stopped her hands from shaking before continuing attacks.

"Of course you do! You two loving doves kept such a sweet correspondence!" Necromancer didn't stop his mockery.

I guess he doesn't have to worry about losing his breath, thought Romania. She did her best not to focus on his words, yet it was hard. Sandro struck a weak spot.

"I bet you would love to see what he wrote to you this time! To be honest, it was so sweet that if I could, I would've throw up. So I had to burn it. You two are disgusting."

"Shut up!" she yelled, trying to hide the trembling of her body. Her sword struck his neck only to once more cut through the illusion and miss the spine.

"Or perhaps I should say 'were'. I doubt he will be able to write anymore. Now I wonder," he pushed her away with magical wind, leaving a few steps of distance between them. "Since you loved him so much, would you be able to recognise his bones?" He gestured towards the remains scattered around.

Romania's face went pale and she stopped with her sword half risen. With wide eyes she followed his hand and then looked at the bodies and bones that surrounded them.

"You– you didn't." She whispered, terrified. "You wouldn't!" She added with even more fear and desperation as tears started gathering in her eyes.

Sandro responded with laughter.

"It's so nice to know you think so highly of me, dear Romania! But what can I say, I wanted to always have my best friend by my side, even if he refused to do so while being alive! But don't worry. I will animate his bones once more while I'm done with you and perhaps even let you join him!" Sudden lighting bolt came from his fingers, that shocked Romania barely avoided. "Or not!"

"You… you…" Romania was trembling but then clenched her sword even harder and threw herself on the Necromancer with scream: "You motherfucking bastard!" Her attacks became faster, filled with desperation and pain. "You traitorous piece of shit! I will cut your head of!"

Sandro laughed, blocking and avoiding her attacks. How much magica did he still have, thought Romania for a second, but then hatered once more filled her mind. It doesn't matter. I have twice as much strength and much more rage.

Sandro once more pushed her away with wind and then struck with lighting. This time Romania didn't dodge, instead took the spell on her sword. Electricity shattered the weapon, but capitan didn't even flinch, fueled by anger and adrenaline. She reached for her dagger and run towards Sandro. She avoided another lighting by rolling on the ground, and while getting up, grabbed some sword abandoned by a fallen solider. Armed with dagger in one hand and sword in the other, she once more charged at her opponent. Sandro's smile disappeared. Now he seemed angry and almost… scared?

Good, thought Romania, while her sword swung towards the Necromancer. He pushed it away, but then the woman struck him with dagger, cutting leather strip of his chestplate and causing it to uncover a fragment of his body. Shocked Sandro tried to cast another spell, but he was too late. Romania pushed her dagger through the unprotected body, once more destroying the illusion, yet now with enough force to break a few ribs and push the Necromancer. He lost his balance and fell on his back. Romania threw away the dagger and grabbed the sword with both hands, then raised it above her head, ready for the final strike.

And hesitated.

Sandro looked up at her with pure terror on his pale face. Suddenly, he looked so young, like the man she last saw those few years ago when him and Jeddite left AvLee with their master. When he was her friend. His blue eyes looked at her, almost begging for mercy, lips were trembling with fear, and he tried to cover his face with his skinny, shaky hand.

"Roma, please," he whispered.

It's just an illusion, Capitan remainded herself. Too late. From the hand that Sandro moved up to pretend to cover himself, flew a lighting bolt. It struck Romania in the chest, shattering her chestplate and pushing her off the ground and few feet away. Sword slipped from her fingers as she fell on her back and lost her breath. Her mind became foggy, and her vision blurry.

"Bastard," she tried to say, but her lips were shaking and a bit of blood poured from her mouth. Did she bite her tongue, or did her lungs get damaged from the spell? She couldn't get up, couldn't move, and in a short moment lost consciousness.

***

Romania was sitting in the infirmary, with bandages around her wounds. It's been five days since the battle, after which medics found her, healed and then transported with some of her surviving soldiers to the nearest fort. Healing magic didn't fix her completely – her wounds were too severe, and others needed healing as well, so while her lungs, concussion and other deep damages were fixed, the flesh wounds still needed to heal, like the one on her head, chest and arm. The last one surprised her. Apparently, when she took the lighting on her sword, some shock still transfered to her arm. She didn't feel it during the fight, probably because of the adrenaline, but also thanks to her leather gloves stopping some of the electricity.

Yet it wasn't what confused her the most.

Why did Sandro leave her alive?

This question kept bothering her for days. Her surviving soldiers said that right after her fight, Sandro called for retreat. Were his undead losing so badly without his constant support? Or did Romania manage to damage his artefact armour? Even if, why didn't he finish her off? One lighting in the head and she would've been dead. Did she drain his magica? Or was there still some humanity in Sandro? Some remnants of his old self, of her friend? Some part of her wanted to believe that, hope that he wasn't completely lost. Yet the other part preferred him to be completely lost and corrupted. It would've been way easier to kill him.

Why did I hesitate? It was the other thing that kept haunting Romania and she hated that she knew the answer. Because she saw her friend… No, because he tricked her to see her friend.

"I'm a failure," whispered the Capitan to herself while resting her head against the wall.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door. Romania turned her head towards him and noticed Eret looking around. When he noticed his sister, he ran towards her, ignoring other patients and a medic that told him to calm down.

"Roma, Romie, I came as fast as I could!" he said while sitting on the bed next to her and wrapping arms around her to hug her. Despite him obviously bursting with emotions, the embrace was careful – he saw her wounds. Roma returned the hug with her healthy hand.

"How do you feel?" He asked after moving away and looking her up and down.

"I'm… Let's get outisde." Romania looked at the medic that gave them both a warning look. "Besides, I could use some fresh air."

Eret nodded, and after Romania put on a shirt, they both left the infirmary.

For a moment they walked in silence, down the wooden stairs and through the green town. Romania looked down at her naked feet, enjoying the feeling of the soft grass soothing her nerves.

"It's not your fault he escaped. Don't blame yourself."

Romania sighed when she heard Eret's words. He always knew what was on her mind.

"I hesitated, Eret. I almost got him, but I hesitated."

"It's not your fault," he repeated firmly. "You did your best."

"You don't know that, you weren't there!"

"No, but I know you. You did well because you forced him escape. Thanks to that, some of the soldiers survived instead of being massacred and reanimated as his undead."

"But how many will die because I didn't stop him?"

"That's all on his conscience."

Roma scoffed.

"I doubt he even has one."

Eret let out a sad chuckle and nodded his head.

"Perhaps he doesn't."

There was another moment of silence as they kept making circles around the infirmary.

"What else is bothering you?"

Romania hesitated from answering but then sighed. There was no point in hiding anything from Eret.

"Sandro said he killed Jeddite and reanimated his bones."

Brother frowned.

"And you believed him?"

Capitan blushed slightly from embarrassment and looked away. Now it seemed obvious that Sandro just tried to manipulate her and make her lose her cool – even if at the end it worked against him – but what if there was some truth in it?

"I guess I did…"

"We both know that he always cared for Jeddite much more than for anyone else. If he spared you, then he spared him."

"We don't know why he spared me."

"Apparently, he didn't hate you enough to finish the job."

"Eret, it's not that simple."

Brother sighed and wrapped his arm around Romania's shoulder.

"Send a messenger to him. Maybe they will find out if he is fine."

"I don't have my own scouts that I would be able to send so far away."

"Well, they have to find something, right?" He then turned Romania to look at him and with all seriousness said: "We will find him. I promise."

Capitan managed to smile slightly and give him a nod. Eret pulled her to hug her once more.

"Alright, time for you to get back to bed. You really need to stop getting so close to the death."

"Well, I can't promise that."

"Yeah, I know you can't."

[delta-pavonis]

🦅 15

Im so curious for that Hob 👀👀

Bless you for asking about my OC. *pets Sandro* None of this has been published yet.

This is gonna be in the middle-ish of my WIP, so background is that Hob found out that someone who sounds like his Stranger is being kept in a basement back in the UK. He heads back to Sicily to get the gear he literally buried when he left Cosa Nostra and who is driving the car that picks him up? Well, of course it is Alessandro, the Capo's son and Hob's ex. Sandro refuses to let Hob go out on a murderous rampage on his own, so now they are holed up in a safehouse in Amsterdam working out a plan of attack for their descent on Fawney Rig. Their past catches up with them. Okay okay okay. I know this is supposed to be SOFT. But this *IS* soft, for these two. 😅 A bit NSFT, a bit of an old D/s relationship, a bit of dark Hob. (The prompt is 'it made me think of you.')

Hob is hunched over the far side of the dining room table, hands holding the edge, elbows locked so that he forms a large triangle in the darkness of the pre-dawn morning. The red-orange glow of the cigarette that hangs from his lips is the only light other than what comes in the open window from the moon. Sandro knows that there are maps and blueprints and photographs scattered across the table's surface, but there is no way Hob can truly see them with so little light.

Sandro slides out of bed, doesn't bother to put on clothing, and opens the glass French doors that allowed him to see Hob from their bedroom in the first place. He plasters himself across Hob's bare back, hooking his chin on Hob's shoulder. "Come back to bed, Bettino. All you are doing right now is risking burning a hole in one of the blueprints when you forget about your cigarette." Sliding around to Hob's side, Sandro plucks the offending item from Hob's lips and takes a long drag.

"That'll kill you, you know." Hob speaks but doesn't move other than to turn his head to Sandro as the younger man leans against the table. It makes his profile catch in the moonlight and if Sandro could engrave that image onto the insides of his eyelids he would.

Instead he takes another drag and blows the smoke up towards the ceiling. He knows the moonlight will illuminate the stretch of his chest, making the eagle that soars around his shoulder and across one pectoral shine silver and gold. "I hope I live long enough for lung cancer to kill me."

Hob makes a scolding noise with his tongue, grabbing the cigarette and pinching the lit end between his fingertips, snuffing it out before flicking it away into the darkness of the room. With a large sweep of his arm Hob shoves papers aside and then lifts Sandro by the hips to sit on the edge of the table, nudging himself between Sandro's knees. He grabs high on Sandro's thighs, pawing possessively. "You're with me now. You don't get to say shit like that anymore." Sandro looks away but Hob leans in, nuzzling just beneath the corner of Sandro's jaw. "No, no. Don't doubt me now. You said you wanted out. So I will get you out. Guaranteed. You know that there is no one who can best me. I haven't been out of the Business that long."

Sandro doesn't look back to Hob, just closes his eyes and gulps, trying to swallow down his building tears with it. It still doesn't feel real, feels too good to be true: Hob came back. Despite everything that happened, Hob is still willing to get him out. Hob will use his skills - skills he very seriously and purposefully abandoned eight years ago - to not only rescue his Stranger, but also to protect Sandro.

"Alessandro," Hob's voice is low and careful, his touch gentle on Sandro's chin as he turns the younger man to him. He searches Sandro's face and whatever he finds colors his warm brown eyes with determination. "Tell me why the tattoo on your thigh is globe amaranth and pink and green carnations and coral honeysuckle and dog rose. You have avoided my question three times since we left Palermo."

He feels dizzy with the change in topic, but Sandro suspects Hob has purposefully tried to spring it on him when he is vulnerable. He has just enough of his wits left to keep eye contact while staying silent.

Hob pulls Sandro roughly by hip and thigh, jerking him forward so he hits Hob's body and stays pressed there. "You know I lived through Victorian England. You also know that I worked as a florist in the 1840s and 50s." His voice is sharp, demanding, and Sandro feels a whimper barely crawl its way out of his throat. He could never, ever resist Hob, not for long. Not when he spoke like that. Based on the pounding of his heart, this does not seem to have changed. "But you need to say it, my pretty bird. Let me hear you, bell'uccellino."

That breaks him. Sandro's eyelids droop and he is transported back a decade and he oh-so-willingly obeys. "They make me think of you." His hands find their way over Hob's shoulders and he uses that as leverage to hitch the tattooed thigh in question over Hob's hip. "You left and all I could bring myself to permanently engrave into my body were ways to remember you."

Hob traces the petals of a single flower with the tip of his middle finger, then identifies it without even looking down, as if in the past three days he has already memorized the entire tattoo from hip to knee. "Coral Honeysuckle." His tone brooks no argument.

"Pursue your desires. Experience pleasure." He answers easily and Hob trails his finger to the next species of flower.

"Green carnations."

"Homosexuality." Sandro closes his eyes and lists forward, drawn even closer to Hob.

"Dog rose."

"Pleasure..." He presses his temple to Hob's cheekbone. "and pain." Hob's chest rumbles with a growl.

His lips are brushing Sandro's ear now, his voice dark with command. "Pink carnations."

At this one a sob catches in Sandro's throat, making him choke on the admission. "I'll never forget you. Ardent love..." Sandro arches, neck curving back. "Devoted love."

"And globe amaranth, for immortality. Immortality and?" Hob's voice surrounds him, lilting on the question.

"Unfading love."

Finally - finally - Hob is kissing him, kissing him with wild abandon and feral hunger, kissing him like he should have been kissing him for the past three fucking days. Kissing him like he is supposed to. Kissing Sandro like he owns him.

[gossipgirloff1]

You have been in Monaco 👀

Can you tell more about it the places you went and landscape ?🫣

Is it boring or excited to be in there ?//

I spent some time in Monaco during 2022 because my boyfriend, who is from London, went there to work short term as a forensic accountant for a wealthy family who were based there. He was there 8 months and I spent 2 months there over the summer and then weekends here and there until the winter of that year. He lived in the Schuylkill building and that is where I stayed.

I want to say I am not an insider and I have no insight to give on drivers or wags.

With that said - I hated Monaco. It's not my vibe at all. I'm from North London (living elsewhere now) and Monaco is a really weird place in comparison.

The good part was that it feels really safe. I never felt uneasy at any point, even on my own late at night.

But it's a really claustrophobic place. It's tiny and everybody lives on top of each other. It also felt like a bit of a dump. The buildings are generally old and crumbling (my bf's place was tiny, tatty and scandalously expensive but we had nice sea views). Also there is dogshit absolutely EVERYWHERE. I am talking in lifts, building lobbies, streets - absolutely nobody picks up after their dogs.

People there are also very unapproachable and rude. It was hard to meet people and make any friends there. The usual places you'd meet people are really just places to be seen in Monaco. Everything just felt really performative. You have to be seen to be working out, seen to be partying, seen to be spending money and you had to be dressed up and polished everywhere you went. You'd walk into a place and people would look you up and down - even the staff working there. The whole place felt completely exhausting to me.

I should say I come from a fairly wealthy background so I wasn't intimidated by the money and I dress well but not ostentatiously so didn't particularly stand out (think stuff like Ami, Agnes B, Sandro, Vivienne Westwood etc.). I just really dislike obnoxious people and there is a lot of that in Monaco. We're not into places like Sass, Jimmyz etc (we were told they are full of wannabes, hooker-types and creepy old men) so I can't give you insight into those as we steered clear sorry.

Even if I was a multi-billionaire I wouldn't live there. There are a lot of very cool cities around the world. Monaco isn't for me at all.

Thank you for the info about Monaco anon ❤️

[frogonamelon]

Venus de Milo

I have never been remotely interested in TMNT until about… *checks notes* buhbuhbuh… two months ago give or take. I’m obsessed. Help. 

First ones first, I have two different concept ideas for Venus de Milo in Rise. The first, and one for today, will be Venus as a sister and member of the Mad Dogs. 

When she’s used in this context, Venus’ name has recently bothered me as all of her brothers get to be named after Italian Renaissance Painters, but she is named after an Ancient Greek Sculpture. I’ve decided to name this iteration of Venus ‘Sandro’ after Sandro Boticelli, an Italian Renaissance painter most famous for The Birth of Venus. Nicknames include: Teal (from Splinter), Sandy, Ro, and San among others, I’m sure.

Her species would be a Kemp's Ridley Sea Turtle, connecting back to Venus and the myth that she was born and came from the ocean. Despite these turtles being the smallest of the world’s seven sea turtles, she is much bigger than most of the turtle species of her brothers, with only Raph being slightly bigger (the minimum size is larger), so she is the second oldest. 

Much like the turtle’s dramatic coloring change throughout their adolescence, Ro would’ve been an edgy kid. She was probably very quiet, became rambunctious, spunky, and brash before realizing how dangerous this is. I could see this as her wanting to prove herself and then mellowing out and finding herself. Ideally this transition to start happening fairly late story wise so we would get a chance to see both sides. 

As she mellows out, she becomes a voice of reason in situations where her brothers are being stupid. She would be the most introspective and extend this calm energy to the others. She still takes no nonsense from anyone and is just as much if not more dangerous as she gets older but is more level-headed about it. 

As she is the second oldest, she wouldn't have as much burden on her as Raph while still being the biggest, leading her to roughhouse and she even hurt Donnie once when they were kids. After this event she would begin to seek out understanding and knowledge about turtles. She would also be very ignorant about the world before dedicating herself to understanding it.

Sandy gets to keep Venus’ canon folding tensen as her mystic weapon. I’m unsure what I want her power to be, but I like the idea of it having some sort of wind manipulation kind of like Mikey’s fire power, but it would probably have to be some sort of teal colored blast instead to give it an actual visual.

The side view is a little strange as I tried to combine a human face shape with a Kemp's Ridley, but I wanted to show that her bandana is tied in a braided bun of a bow with the rest hanging down to mirror the Venus de Milo stature buts it's definitely strange in this image.