got shoggoth?

All in all, this party was a huge success. Lorenzo sat at the head table, watching the revelry with a small smile; many guests were drunk, but not enough to be considered obscenely so. Giuliano sat on his right, his chin propped up in his hand as he considered the guests (or more specifically, if Lorenzo knew his brother, the young women.) The Auditore were seated at his left, watching… Well, three of them were.Lorenzo could tell that Maria and Giovanni wanted to get up and dance together. But the three eldest children had taken off, leaving no one to watch young Petruccio should his parents leave the table. Lorenzo scanned the hall; he could see Claudia nearby, speaking with her latest crush. Federico was at the back of the hall, dancing with a nameless woman, and Ezio had vanished completely. It did not take long for Lorenzo to figure out that Federico was dancing with Cristina Vespucci’s chaperone. He leaned over to murmur in Giovanni’s ear. “I’ll watch Petruccio. Go on.”Giovanni looked faintly surprised. “Ah, Lorenzo, I wouldn’t-” Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “Do you think he will give me trouble, Giovanni?” he asked, cutting the older man off. Giovanni blinked, and then a smile spread across his handsome face.“Of course not. Thank you, my friend.” He leaned over to whisper in his wife’s ear, and Maria’s answering smile could have lit the room on its own. She mouthed her thanks to Lorenzo and murmured something to Petruccio, who nodded obediently in reply. Giovanni stood, offered his arm to his wife, and together they took to the dance floor and were soon lost among the crowd. Petruccio watched them go nervously.Lorenzo felt a little sorry for him. He had much more colour in his face than the last time the Duke had seen him, but because he was chronically ill he had little chance to interact with anyone outside his family. He was clearly overwhelmed by the festivities. Lorenzo pulled Giovanni’s chair out from under the table and patted it.“Come and sit here, Petruccio.” Petruccio obeyed, a nervous smile on his face. Giuliano peered curiously around Lorenzo at the boy, before shoving a silver bowl filled with red ripe cherries at Lorenzo.“Keep him entertained with that,” he muttered cannily. “Children love food.”“That would explain your love of it.” Lorenzo shook his head exasperatedly at his younger brother - he was as subtle as a thunderstorm sometimes - and turned his attention back to Petruccio. “Are you enjoying the party, Petruccio?”Petruccio smiled at him. “Yes, Sir,” he answered dutifully, before turning and searching the dance floor for his parents again. Lorenzo sighed; he was still nervous, and if he didn’t calm down he could stress himself into being sick. Begrudgingly, he decided to try Giuliano’s idea.“Have you ever tried cherries?” he asked, pulling the bowl to sit on the table between them. Petruccio shook his head. “They’re very good. Try one! Careful not to choke on the seed.”Hesitantly, Petruccio plucked one from the plate and popped it into his mouth. He spat the seed into his palm, reached over the table to retrieve his own plate, and discarded it on there. After a moment he smiled at Lorenzo, already looking a little more relaxed. “I like them. May I have another?”Lorenzo ignored Giuliano’s smug jab to his ribs. “Of course. Don’t eat too many or you will upset your stomach.”He nearly laughed when Petruccio grinned happily. The boy really did resemble his parents.Maria and Giovanni returned after only a few songs, Maria fanning herself and panting a little, a smile lighting up her beautiful face. Giovanni, who was probably fitter than most of the people present, was not out of breath, but he looked just as happy. Upon seeing Petruccio and his small pile of cherry pips, he stopped dead.“How did you get him to eat those?” he asked Lorenzo. At Lorenzo’s bewildered look, he asked Petruccio with fond exasperation, “You wouldn’t touch them when I tried to feed them to you, and all Lorenzo has to do is put the bowl in front of you?”“He offered me some.” Petruccio’s look was stern as he gazed up at his father. “And you always tell me to never refuse the Duke, Papa.”“Well, yes, but…” Giovanni’s smile was sheepish. “Lorenzo, for God’s sake, tell him to eat his vegetables.”“Please don’t, Sir!” Petruccio’s expression was panicked.Giuliano quickly ducked away from the table to burst into laughter. Lorenzo didn’t bother to do Giovanni that courtesy, laughing as he patted Petruccio reassuringly on the shoulder and enjoying Giovanni’s awkward smile.

Sometimes, Lorenzo was painfully reminded of his own naiveté. He knew the Medici had enemies, and he was not so deluded that he thought he was beyond their reach, their plans. He had been involved in political intrigue from a young age, had seen death, ordered murder, and even had a few close calls himself. He knew very well that he was mortal.Never did it cross his mind that Giovanni might be, as well.And why would it? From the moment Giovanni had pulled him from the Arno, Lorenzo had hero-worshipped him. Every time he had seen Giovanni fight, the man had displayed almost inhuman strength and speed. He had been fearless, undertaking each mission with a solemn determination and mercilessness, a complete contrast to the way he met Lorenzo in private, with gentle hands, soft lips and a tender smile.Of all the things to kill him, it had been the hangman’s noose of Lorenzo’s own city.At first, Lorenzo had loathed Uberto Alberti for his betrayal; no, loathe was not a strong enough word. Upon seeing Uberto, hatred would bubble up inside Lorenzo until it awoke a hideous bloodlust, forcing him to remove himself from Uberto’s presence lest he do something he would later regret.Once Uberto was murdered, Lorenzo’s hatred for him subsided slowly, only to be turned tenfold on himself. Giovanni had voiced his concerns to Lorenzo; why hadn’t he taken them seriously? If he hadn’t left the city… If he hadn’t gone to the villa…In public, he kept his cool. In private, he unleashed his fury. He broke anything he could get his hands on, by accident or on purpose. Everything from pencils and quills to priceless oriental vases suffered his wrath, until he finally ordered that all such artefacts be moved from his office and bedroom. His poetry - and fuck, he had loved writing it once, hadn’t he? - was discarded and torn apart, and he could write very few words beyond my fault, why, and his Assassin’s name. It took a long time for the anger to drain away, leaving a dull ache behind. An Assassin, he told himself sternly. Giovanni was an Assassin, his job was always perilous. Except that he hadn’t been killed on a mission, he had been condemned as a traitor by the very city he strove to protect. Oh, but Lorenzo wished he hadn’t left Florence that day. With his Assassin torn away from him, he was left to protect an entire city, alone. Alone. Lorenzo finally cried.It wasn’t until he talked with Ezio that Lorenzo felt at peace with Giovanni’s death.There was something, a strange, niggling feeling at Lorenzo’s heart as he told Ezio of how he and Giovanni had met. It was familiar, and he tried to place it, but it wasn’t until he’d handed over a Codex page to Ezio that the revelation blindsided him.Giovanni was there. Ever vigilant, he was watching, with one eye on Lorenzo and the other on his family, just as it always had been. It wasn’t until he was with Ezio that Lorenzo felt the full brunt of his gaze. His eyes itched with bittersweet tears, but instead he smiled coolly at Ezio as he bade him farewell.As he watched Ezio go, he asked Giovanni to turn his full gaze to the young Assassin; Ezio needed the guidance more than he. In the meantime, he promised that he would live, finally live, for the both of them. And when he finally met Giovanni again, he promised to tell him all about it.

my face when im about to ask my mummy if I can go to the strip club 👉👈

my face when im about to ask my mummy if I can go to the strip club 👉👈

Claudia: Who won gold?

And that's all for now I'll add more when I think of some later. 

It also includes trans Ezio.

2026; Malik and Altaïr (: