#GOD I JUST LOVE HER TOO MUCH BUT I WOULDNT HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY JSJDJDBFJDBFNDBF<3<3<3<3<3333< /div>
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while the only redeeming quality of love god really is the stan joke, it does emphasize how bad mabel is at matchmaking and also how much romance sucks actually
#the end to it still feels weird!!! and going 'oh but actually its all ok!!!' in supplementary materials doesn't make it feel any better!!!!#altho hilariously that means the snadger are soulmates all along#....ok 2 there are 2 redeemable things about that ep cos it gave ford that other hilarious mabel drawing in tots#anyway robbie's actual issue is that he was a terrible boyfriend!!! and didn't respect wendy at all!!!!#he let his insecurities get in that way and he constantly felt threatened by a kid!!!! rebounding off someone else fixes none of this!!!!!#also i have soooo much beef with the northwest ep especially cos of the mabel b plot#she and her friends deserve better than this???? romance in this show sucks!!!!!!#like the a plot isnt inherently bad but what it ended up sprouting into annoys me!!!!#(also the mood of 'dipper shouldve just gotten mabel and the girls out and ran lol')#(the ep needing the 4 of them to get attacked otherwise a lot of folks wouldnt give a shit about the ghost)#anyway another reason why bill sucks is cos he ended up undoing preston's face that coward#too bad those eps are necessary just so robbie and paz are on friendlier terms with the pines#(but meanwhile a wendy ep is too much to ask for :////)#also thinking about how mabel's love crazy phase is relatively new....#one day she'll get better taste in ships#i wonder how much the disney censors were shaking at the wompers joke#cos part of them being like 'NOOOOO THATS TWO GUYS' but also like. thats a pig duct taped to a goat.#they were probably pissed at mabel having a pride sweater on tho#roadside attraction was poorly timed and having it be all about being pickup artistry kinda sucks#but its still way better than love god lol at least we have dipper and stan bonding moments and candy got a hero moment#also stan no longer being sensitive about his brand
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istg one of these days.......
#ya know that post thats like texting lesbians: its throw bowling balls down the stairs day u better be game#one of my fave posts ever in the world#anyway my lesbian flatmate texts like the straight female friend part of that post and i love her but its killing me#its endearing but its so hard not to read it as flirty stoppitttt im already dedicating so much work to repressing this little crush 😭#ALSO THAT POST THATS LIKE FLIRTING W GIRLS WILL HAVE U ADDING :3 TO UR TEXTS literally so true but I dont think she means it like that 😭😭#like she talks to everyone that way I remember when I first met her me + my ex spent ages trying to work out if she was gay#bc we were so sure she had a gay vibe but every text felt like it was pointing the other way..... the vindication when I found out she WAS#anyway my resolve weakens with every 😘 emoji like im already thinking abt it dont give me any more ideas !!!!#its not even embarrassing anymore like how am i supposed to exist near someone like her WITHOUT ever having a gay thought#so im not sorry if she sees this. i take rejection like a champ dont be shy#but genuinely tho i dont think shes interested shes just cute like that. and idw make things weird cuz we're still living together next yr#itd be suchh a pain if i made things awkward right when we need to find a place. and anyway my best case is our 3rd flatmates WORST#i wouldnt do that to him god forbid#buuuut...... nope ok enough of that im going back to bed its almost 1am#this is what HAPPENS when u have insomnia tuning into the crazy radio every night#need to get onto dating apps and find smth new to distract me before this gets out of hand....... buttttt i dont want to >:|#its ok my patience is infinite i like playing the long game. i was into my ex for 2 and a half years before i made any moves#i can wait this one out too either itll happen eventually or itll pass. we're good#ok thats GOODNIGHT from me if u read this far wow ur nosy arent u...... jk ily sleep well everyone#muah all round#.diaries
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okayyyyyyyyyy got lost for 3 plus hours with half a tank of gas trying to find the closet rest stop to my work with shitty directions printed at the libaryyyyy staying with a friend tonight and then probably heading home to be talked into moving back tomorrow but aha i am the devil
#dont reblog im on a computer and cant figure this shit out#personal#assuming of course i didnt burn that bridge today#so my brother texted me asking like hey mom wants you to print this for her#and i was like you understand she kicked me out right. does she understand that#blow up on him and reveal how i feel like no one in the family actually loves me and while im not gonna do anything i wish i was never born#bc every aspect of life is so horrible and just keeps getting worse#dramatic but also look at my personal tag thats true. thats documented proof for like 10 years worth of data#i mean def better in some way worse in others despite it being one of the worst times of my life also doesnt feel that bad#my friend im staying with is telling to stay flat out#and like going into it and my other friends are enouchaging me to do so too but hehe imma victimize myself#unless of course theyre all done with me#but anyway go there dont print it bc internet is down and my mom is home and starts swinging verbally#even tho i said dont tell dad or the lady living with us but whatever. anyway so im like hey. no on forced you to kick me out thats on you#and shes like i said you can stay and im like after kicking me out#no one forced you to do any of this and gave her the phone and shes like keep it and iim like no you just asked for it#not to me but she was telling my brother she was gonna cut the line so i told her im returning it and she didnt correct me#anyway so i go to my room to grab some stuff and she follows me and is like you at least have to listen to me you owe me that much#im like i dont you owe you anything actually but god i feel awful#she blocked the door so i wouldnt leave and i was so angry i shoved her out of the way and she looked so genuinely shocked and ill be honest#ill be drinking tonight about that specifically#i ran out of there like a coward all angry with her yelling at me to listen#ii ended up coming back twice bc i left mail and two needed to contact my friend so i could stay over and dang she dont answer random s#just barely missed her but saw that she said lets talk when i get home and my brother begging me for a way to contact me bc hes worried#weeeeeeeeee this all over me calling out with hours
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Redraw of the panels that SHATTERED MY HEART o(;△;)o!!! OG panels + Opinions on the Luffy separation arc under read more
Okay let me just go on a tangent about my feelings about the post-series Luffy separation arc, cause I think it gets way too much hate when it’s such a heartbreaking and well executed deviation from oda’s standard formula!!! I know that we all love monkey d. luffy and he’s LITERALLY the main character of the series, but it was also really nice to get more time to focus on the rest of the crew. But here’s the thing, even when Luffy wasn’t here, he was still here. And I’m not talking about the so called ‘blessings’ or whatever that kept SUSPICIOUSLY popping up around the crew when Luffy disappeared, I’m talking about the consequences that arised from him disappearing. We truly got to see how grand the effect luffy has had on the world around him, and how many lives he was able to touch ; - ; So even though luffy physically wasn’t present (I mean KIND OF but you know what I mean), this was still VERY MUCH a luffy arc imo.
Oh man but I think Oda wrote luffy’s disappearance so well,,, I was sobbing for like 80 percent of this arc. Like just gradually seeing the crew’s deterioration as time passes by,,, but everyone has such unwavering faith in their captain, he HAS to come back cause Luffy always comes back. But here’s the thing, Luffy didn’t know what was happening to him when he started disappearing. But what he DID know is that he wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to come back or not. And Luffy hates breaking promises- he’d never make a promise if he didn’t plan to keep it, and he’s not an idiot either, so when he just felt himself disappearing and saw zoro nearby... Instead of saying something like “I’ll be back!” and potentially making his crewmates wait for him forever, he tells zoro to “take care of the crew”... SOBBING AND CRYING T - T. So YES. the crew has unwavering faith in their captain. But. Luffy didnt say that he’d be coming back or anything. So what are they supposed to do really.
And it’s really hard to read at some parts, like it never loses the goofy tone that has been there throughout all of one piece and it’s really sweet to see everyone rely on each other to keep one another afloat, but the slight tension that keeps building up over the months while they keep looking for clues and answers... And how each lead keeps becoming a dead end... When it builds up and Usopp finally voices the thing that’s on everyone’s mind.
Oh man. I started crying so hard. It took 6 month for any one of them to say something. Like this is One piece. Of course Luffy is gonna come back eventually, it would be waay too dark otherwise... But Idk man, even I started to doubt that :((( But luckily. THIS IS ONE PIECE. So right after everyone started,,, well not exactly losing hope or anything (maybe a bit)? but going BATSHIT INSANE FROM THE REALITY THAT THEIR CAPTAIN MIGHT BE GONE FOR GOOD, they finally got a solid actual clue of what might’ve happened to luffy!!! And I’m SO GLADDDD!!!!
Omg and when they tracked down the pray-pray no mi user and finally got some answers out of him. OMG WAIT A MOMENT I REALLY LIKED IS WHEN PRIEST GUY IS LIKE “urerheg without luffy up there as a god the entire world may very well be destroyed cause the sun has been super unstable for centuries blah blah” and then Nami freaking PUMMELED THE GUY AND SHOVED HIM DOWN WITH HER STAFF AND
SOBBING CRYING SOBBING. THEY WOULD POTENTIALLY BLOW UP THE ENTIRE WORLD IF IT MEANT THAT THEIR CAPTAIN WOULDNT HAVE TO BE LONELY ; - ; KILL ME.
URGH I was really hoping that Luffy would return right once they beat him up cause I really really missed my boy, but honestly I think the final method of getting Luffy to return was super clever and absolutely worth the extra 3 weeks of waiting!!! I know that it was foreshadowed across the whole West Blue Saga and everything but I honestly had no clue it would end like that, DONT MAKE FUN OF ME :(((
When the crew finally got their captain back after 8 months of waiting... I mean they’ve been separated before for even longer periods of time, but they always knew that they’d be back together. This time they didn’t know. BUT AREHAHRGE ALL THE PAIN AND SUFFERING WAS SO WORTHIT WHEN THEY ALL FINALLY REUNITED T - T!!!!!! UWAHHWHAHWUAAGGHA!!! AND SEEING ALL THEIR ALLIES AND FRIENDS THEYVE MADE JUST CHEER AND CRY WHEN THEY HEAR THE NEWS!!!! I WOULD CHUCK ALL THE PANELS HERE IF I COULD BUT ID JUS T REACH THE IMAGE LIMIT BECAUSE ALL OF THEM MADE ME CRY ; - ;!!! Literally just read those 5 chapters in the arc finale cause,,,, man so good T - T
Anyways TLDR: The post-series luffy seperation arc is NOT BAD and you guys are JUST COWARDS AND LIARS!!!!
#tw unreality#post-series#one piece#op fanart#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#zolu#nami#usopp#straw hat pirates#gear 5 luffy#op spoilers#one piece spoilers#wano spoilers#please dni if ur a post-series one piece hater >:(#this is a post-series POSITIVE post only!!! Feel free to gush about other post-series arcs that you like on this post :D!!!#(for that person i scared: i put tw unreality higher just 4 u :3)
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Hallo!!
may i ask for a little spronkle of fluff? Donna goes out to town to buy fabrics, the neewww (oh, wow!) cleric selling it to her, Reader, has almost the exact same scar on their face (except for it not being unnaturally deformed, -- reader got it from like, an encounter with a rabid animal, or something),
Donna gets curious and asks about it, leading to a casual conversation, which led to Donna wanting to come back and chat with the new hire, seeing as how, unbeknownst to Reader (because, obviously, Donna wears the veil, Reader wouldnt know she had the same mutation) they had something in common, their scarring
Make it so that Reader (very slowly) catches on ?? And they develop feelings overtime ?? But, doesnt know if 'big-lady-Donna' feels the same way, so they just.. shaddap? (i had to use that 'big-lady' reference, or it wouldve haunted me, forgive, forget)
Reader asks to see Donnas face (although, very nervously, because of, yknow, Angie staring down Readers soul, aswell as Donnas rank/title), Donna complies, although hesitantly, and Reader is just so entranced by how similar the size/placement/colour of their scarring is, that theyre just so hyped, and cant help to call Donna beautiful, to call her newly-revealed, singular eye 'enchanting' and whatnot (make Reader a nervous sap, i beg and i plead, i need this prompt to rot my teeth),
Donna gets fed up from how clueless Reader is to how much Donna appreciates them -- leading to, very reluctant, and/or peeved (take that as you will, im unsure how to topic Donnas nerves, tremors, mood-swings and whatnot) confession, coming from Donnas side. (Meaning: Donna confesses first, very awkwardly, and shyly, and Reader obviously accepts, because, .. They're girlfriends, your honor!)
Angie, meanwhile, is hurling in the background because of how cheesy, and forced, Donnas confession was, (although, secretely, Angie is over the moon that her Donsie made a new (girl)friend). Maybe add a little bit of like, restless, over-thinking rambling in Italian to that mix. (Ex: Donna just going over about how cool it is that they have matching scars, maybe Reader could come over to her estate and see her portrait without it. *Mumble mumble, something nervy in italian*, do you wanna come over? Do you wanna see my workshop? Do you wanna see my dolls? I can have one resemble you. Do you sew? We can make dolls -- *Mumble, trips over words, Italian*)
Make it from Donnas prospective, Please and thanks!!
No smut, just wholesome wholesomeness, and ofcourse, happy, diabetes-inducing ending, where Reader does agree to come and hang out with her -- make them Girlfriends with your writers-magic from that point on, because i have no idea what else to add to explain how overtime THEY FALL INLOVESIES!!! (AGHH! SUCH ROMANCE! THEYRE SO INLOVE!!!)
No mention of G!P or just, like, any arousal in general (since ive seen it mentioned on other posts, by other people, when asked for no smut, i just wanted to clarify)
hope i explained this okay?? Sometimes im pretty vague/too specific while typing and add too many '()'s and '/'s (overthinking autism brain -- HEY! LOOK! I JUST DID IT AGAIN!)
wish ya the best of luck, aswell as the best of day, may Angie bite your fingers (not really.. aha.. joking! Or am i?), Ciao, Blusy!
Yesss!!! Wow, it was a curious request! Thank you!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))
Two broken faces
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings:¡ fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV
Word count: 9,376
Summary: She's so simliar, but so different...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
I thought I had everything I needed.
I had my dolls, my books, the peace that solitude offers a woman like me… Always afraid of people, always hiding, I found in my isolated world a peaceful place to live, for all eternity.
I didn't ask for this, I never asked the Black Gods to have mercy on my soul, I didn't ask Mother Miranda to adopt me, I never asked anyone for that second chance, I just wanted to die.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my family hadn't been noble, if my ancestors hadn't been part of the founding of this village. Maybe I would have had the chance to live in a different way or maybe my wish to disappear would have simply been fulfilled.
Donna Beneviento, a young woman who stopped fighting. Yes, surely they would put something similar on my grave. I would have become a legend, that woman who lost everything, who was cursed with an illness, who was condemned to watch how little by little, the world around me faded away behind that horrible waterfall.
But… After all, after that mercy that I didn't ask for, the result wasn't very different. To think that I was no longer alone would be to deceive myself. Angie was already speaking before I insisted on giving her life with my new gifts. Angie was me, I was Angie.
Maybe she's still me, even if I don't realize it, maybe I’m not even a Lord, maybe I wasn't even alive anymore. It was hard to know. That position of power that the Gods granted me only served to make my horrible thoughts to take shape, to find in cruelty a way to relieve the pain of my soul, the rage I felt at having been unjustly deprived of a normal life.
Josef was the first, but not the last.
What was the fault of the man who took care of me after the death of my family? None. Why did I do it? Because I could.
I try to look in the mirror and not see that reflection, the reflection of my horrible appearance, of that punishment for the sins I didn’t commit, but I only see a monster, a monster on the outside, a monster on the inside.
Surely that was what Miranda expected of me: another terrifying being to keep the flock under control. I cannot deny that she succeeded. I myself became the fear, the terror.
That legend that I thought I would become by ending my life became a dark tale, a nightmare story, the story of the terrible doll maker, Donna Beneviento.
I could not say when she stopped mattering to me, I cannot even say that one day she stopped. Loneliness was my fear, until it became my refuge. You did not love me before, when I was just a girl with a scar, now that I am a monster your punishment would be to fear me.
None of that matters, not even my brothers, nor this cursed village. I only care about Angie, my dolls, those that do not judge, that do not laugh at me, that do not fear me, that do not feel anything. The flesh deceives, lies, harms, porcelain does not. Porcelain is malleable, it looks the way I want, it is beautiful, soft and does not hate me.
I wish I could have been a doll, I wish I could free myself from the hatred that was inside me…
“Grigio,” I said in a whisper, while I was devoting my soul to making my dolls, to creating those emotionless beings that I envied.
Angie nodded, walking around the work table, looking for the fabric I asked for.
“Grey again, Donna?” the doll asked, in a mocking tone. I nodded without looking at her, finishing correcting the imperfections of that new companion.
“What's your problem with grey?” I asked, cleaning the smooth porcelain, with my gaze fixed on it, trying not to let Angie distract me, as she usually did.
“It's boring,” the doll said, handing me a too small piece of fabric, making me frown.
“It's not enough, I need much more,” I said focused, shaking my head. The doll shrugged, walking over to her new friend.
“There is no more grey fabric,” Angie mocked, hands on her hips.
I sighed, snapping out of my concentration, searching through the drawers. I would never trust Angie, I would never trust myself.
“There isn’t?” I asked confused, searching the workshop for the desired fabric. The doll growled angrily at my distrust, crossing her arms.
“I already told you, silly Donna,” she mocked, getting down from the table. I sighed, rubbing my eye. I had been in the workshop for hours, I couldn’t say how many.
“Angie…” I sighed tiredly, shaking my head and finally abandoning my dolls, walking through the dark basement hallway, through that comforting darkness. “I'm not in the mood for your nonsense.”
“Are you ever in the mood?” the puppet asked, with a mocking tone.
I didn't answer. I simply walked towards the phone, looking in a address book for the number of the village merchant, the Duke.
“Oh, oh, oh, ask the fat guy if he has yellow wool balls,” Angie said, tugging at my dress.
I looked at her, unable to help but smile. Who it was didn't matter, my position as a Lord didn't matter, I was sure that, without Angie, I would have given up a long time ago.
“What do you want yellow wool balls for?” I asked amused, picking up the phone and dialing the number slowly, indicating to Angie that she should let herself be picked up. I still needed her to speak for me.
“I don't know, they're funny,” she commented, taking the phone while I lovingly put her old clothes on. “Hello, hello? Fatty?”
Nothing, no one seemed to answer.
“He doesn't pick up,” Angie whispered so I frowned, snatching the phone from her and checking she was telling the truth.
“Maybe he's not in the village,” I sighed, hanging up and shaking my head. “How convenient, I need that damn fabric.”
“He might be in his warehouse,” Angie commented, going back down to the floor. “Although I doubt he will fit through the door,” she mocked amused, making me smile again.
“What do we do now?” I asked, looking at the crumbling ceiling.
“Why don't we go to the village?” Angie suggested. “We can look for the Duke there.”
“No,” I said dryly, hardening my expression.
“Silly Donna... I want my wool balls!” the doll protested, in a childish way, irritating me again. “Let's go to the village, to the village!”
“Madonna… I said no, Angie,” I snorted, in a brusque tone.
No, I didn't want to go to the village, I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to see fear in people's eyes, I didn't want to see it again.
“Silly, you stupid pasta thing,” the doll hissed. “Stupid Donna”
“Are you done yet?” I asked with irony, with a dangerous look. As expected, the doll shook her head.
“Donna, you coward, I want my wool balls!” she shrieked irritatingly again, making me lose my patience.
“Chuidi quella cazzo di bocca!” I shouted furiously, completely out of my mind, causing the puppet to flee in terror, hiding behind a table.
Once again, I had lost control for no reason. I would never be able to escape my sentence.
I tried to relax, to make the trembling in my body disappear. I breathed deeply, lowering my head.
“Perdonami, Angie…” I sighed in a calmer tone, walking slowly to the doll's hiding place. She, timidly, peeked out. “I shouldn't have yelled at you.”
“You're very tense,” the doll whispered. “You have to relax...”
“I know, forgive me, please,” I said with my voice broken by the rage of my behavior, extending my arms towards her, who timidly approached, letting me pick her up from the floor.
“Of course I forgive you, silly,” the doll said, hugging me in a childish way, bringing the smile back to my face.
“Fine… W-we'll go to the village to get the fabrics, what do you think?” I finally said, trying to compensate my only friend for having to put up with me day after day, for having to live… With a monster.
“Yay!” the puppet celebrated as I carried her in my arms, leaving the comfort of that dark basement.
I never liked going out, feeling the cold on my body, feeling insecure, outside the safety of the cracked walls. Maybe no one had the misfortune of seeing my face, but my mere presence was already uncomfortable enough for anyone.
Just think about it, a woman in black clothes, with her face hidden by a black veil, a lifeless figure which comes walking slowly towards you. It was terrifying.
Luckily, there didn't seem to be many people in the village, it was a cold morning. I also didn't want to notice if there were eyes watching me, if there was a child trembling in its mother's arms when it saw me walking.
The Duke's warehouse wasn't far away, and I headed there as quickly as possible. My breathing was uncontrolled, my anxieties were already starting to make me too nervous. I wanted to go home.
“Duuuuke!” Angie called when we entered the cabin. “Duuuuke! Where are you?”
There didn't seem to be anyone there and we both looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders. Not wanting to wait for that vermin to appear, I approached the place where he kept the fabrics, looking for that desired grey tone my doll needed.
“What do you think, Angie?” I asked the puppet, who was curiously rummaging through the merchant's things, nodding disinterestedly. “Where are the grey ones...?”
“Hello,” an unknown voice startled me, a female voice that was not familiar to me.
From among the boxes, a girl appeared, a young girl with a splendid smile. I didn’t recognize her, I would remember that face. Near her left eye there was a horrible scar. I couldn’t help but bring my hand to my face when I found a similarity between that deformity and mine.
The girl shook her hands, with an elegant gesture, without that smile disappearing.
“Lady Beneviento,” she said softly, lowering her head. “Surely the Duke would spend the whole morning flattering your presence but I believe in naturalness, do you need something?”
“Where is the fatty? Who are you?” Angie asked, letting me pick her up again while pointing at that unknown girl.
“Oh, the Duke is on a business trip, or so he told me,” she said, amused, shaking her head. “But I'm sure I can help you, or try, at least.”
I looked at her curiously, unable to take my eyes off her scar, one that didn’t hide her beauty at all. I couldn't say why, but my cheeks began to blush.
I didn't say anything. I just looked at her confused, just like the doll did with me, waiting for me to react.
“Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself,” the girl said with an apologetic look, extending her hand towards me, a hand that seemed very soft… “I'm (Y/N), the Duke hired me to be his assistant when he wasn't around. I manage the warehouse too.”
I hesitated for a moment. My instincts pushed me to reject that greeting, to ignore that smiling young woman, but, for some reason, I didn't. I slowly extended my hand towards hers, shaking it briefly, feeling for myself that I wasn't wrong, her skin was very soft, warm.
“It’s, it's a pleasure to meet you too,” she joked, confused by my shy greeting, with a natural, beautiful smile... “I never thought I'd have the honor of having one of you here.”
“Shut up, you stupid village girl! We've come for...” Angie said, interrupted by a sudden movement of my arms, letting her fall to the floor. “Hey!”
“I ne-ne-need fabrics,” I whispered with a hoarse, timid, barely audible voice. The girl frowned, coming a little closer to me.
“Excuse me, but I didn't hear you,” she said amused but with a kind look.
“Fabrics, stupid! Fabrics!” Angie shrieked, startling the young woman, who, surprisingly, kept her composure masterfully.
“Oh, fabrics, of course,” (Y/N) said, nodding and passing by me, letting me get a closer look at that scar so similar to mine, one that had me quite interested. “If you would be so kind as to come with me…”
I nodded slowly, following the young assistant through the warehouse.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked naturally, rummaging through a pile of fabrics.
“G-Grey fabric…” I murmured, clearing my throat, with Angie looking at me strangely. I couldn't blame her for it, I was very nervous.
“Grey…” (Y/N) commented, searching with her eyes. “Oh, yes, here,” she said amused, pointing at several fabrics of that same color.
“Wool balls, we want wool balls,” Angie said with a haughty tone while I touched those fabrics with curiosity, unable to avoid looking at that girl out of the corner of my eye.
“Wool balls?” she asked confused, scratching her head. “Mm, yes, this way,” she said, gesturing for the puppet to follow her.
I paused for a moment to look at her again, my heart beating fast and my eye unable to stop studying each of her movements. She was a really beautiful young woman, who surely hid some terrible story, maybe one as horrible as mine, maybe… Oh, I didn’t know why I was thinking about it.
“Do you see anything you like?” she asked me when finished attending to Angie, getting closer to me, maybe too close, allowing me to look at her more closely again.
“Um, yes… I…” I stammered nervously, clearing my throat again and pointing at a random roll of fabric. Luckily, it was a grey one.
“This one? Good…” the young woman commented, taking the roll and heading to a small counter. “How much do you want?”
“No, I… I’ll take the entire roll,” I said, nodding, putting my hands together in front of my body, playing with them discreetly to try to stop shaking.
“The entire roll?” (Y/N) asked, frowning. The Duke never questioned me, why did she?
“Is there a problem, silly?” Angie asked mockingly, comically wrapped in a wool ball.
“No, there’s no problem but… I don’t know if you can handle it, it’s quite heavy,” the girl said amused, leaning on the counter and looking at that large roll of fabric. “I mean, I’m not saying you can’t… I mean, I…”
I laughed at that shy side, that nervous side my presence provoked in her. Normally I would have groaned or sighed at the sight of her body trembling, but on that occasion, I didn't. Even when she was nervous, she couldn't lose that bright smile.
“Calm down, I know what you mean,” I said in a different tone, louder and noticeable, as if my own voice was eager to talk to her.
“Uff, okay...” she sighed, running a hand over her forehead in a playful way. “Sorry, my lady, I'm not used to dealing with... Lords, you know.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. I could feel Angie's eyes looking at me inquisitively, but I didn't pay attention to them. Not wanting to look stupid, I took out a bag of coins, leaving them on the counter. (Y/N) picked them up, writing something down in a notebook.
“Fine...” the girl murmured, leaving the pen on top of the notebook. “Do you need anything else, my lady?” she asked kindly.
I shook my head, turning to leave, picking up my doll again, who was still staring at me.
“No, thank you,” I muttered before walking out the door. Something, something made me stop and turn around. “Uh, actually, I do.”
“Mm?” (Y/N) hummed, with that same kind smile, following me with her gaze as I approached the counter again.
“I don't remember seeing you before,” I said with a dry voice, with an indifferent tone. I didn't want to show her how nervous I was, besides, I didn't even know why I was that nervous.
“I'm elusive,” she answered amused, leaning on the counter in a casual manner. “But the truth is that I've been here all my life.”
“Working for the fat guy?” Angie asked, with a curious tone, shifting in my arms.
“No, no,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, laughing amused. “I mean, I've been in the village all my life.”
“Really? It's funny, you don't sound familiar to me,” I commented, with a slightly dark tone, analyzing her expressions. The girl shrugged, as if it wasn't the most comfortable question for her.
“Well... I'm not very fond of masses...” she murmured in a cautious tone. “Don't get me wrong, I adore Mother Miranda, and you, and of course I pray to the Black Gods every day and...”
“Mmm…” Angie got out of my arms, walking along the counter until she was very close to her. “She's lying.”
“What? Oh, no, no, I’m not,” the assistant said, now a little more scared. “No, my lady, no, I'm not lying.”
“I don't care if you are, (Y/N),” I commented, moving the doll away from her, laughing shyly again. “I'm not judging you.”
“Oh, okay…” the girl sighed, with an exaggerated gesture of relief. “Well, to be honest, I've never had a particular interest in… All that stuff about the Gods.”
I nodded nervously, wanting to ask a thousand questions, without knowing why, without knowing what exactly was keeping me in that warehouse.
“But, but I go to masses,” she said with a more relaxed tone, pretending sincerity. “Um… Um…Do you want… Do you want something else?”
“No,” I answered abruptly, turning around again and walking towards the door.
When I arrived, I realized that my legs weren't moving, that my head wanted to turn towards that girl again. My behavior was strange, but I couldn't help it.
“Yes,” I said, entering again, causing her to laugh amusedly and look at me in amazement, probably because of my pathetic attitude. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Lycans,” she answered, relaxing her expression. I frowned and shook my head, confused.
“Cosa?”
“My scar, I know you were going to ask me about it,” she said with a relaxed tone, pretending to read the notes in that account book.
“No, I…” I stammered, embarrassed to know that it was really what I wanted to know, what had caught my attention.
“Don’t worry, my lady, nothing is wrong. I’m not ashamed of it,” she said with a sincere look, one that made me see that her left eye had a slightly whiter tone, as if it had no life.
That was how I was like when I was a child, when everyone laughed at me.
“What…? What happened to you?” I asked in a cautious, strangely curious tone.
“When I was 10 I made the stupid mistake of going into the forest at dusk, you know, I wanted to be the bravest girl and blah blah blah…” (Y/N) commented casually, gesturing with her hands. I nodded for her to continue. “How was I supposed to know that there were lycans in the woods? It seems unlikely in a place like this, right? Um, sorry, it was, it was a joke.”
“Uh-huh,” I whispered, frowning. “A joke?”
“Yeah, well… I've learned that, in order to be happy, you must learn to laugh at yourself,” (Y/N) explained, with a smile adorning her beauty again.
“Do you find that some lycans hurt you funny? You could have died,” I said annoyed by that attitude. No, that wasn't funny, it couldn't be.
“I know, but… Here I’m,” she said sighing, spreading her arms in a playful way. “I lost the vision of my left eye, but… I'm still alive, and that's the important thing.”
“You seem like a very optimistic girl,” I commented, with an amused laugh, inadvertently getting a little closer to her.
“Mm, well, it can't be any other way,” the girl said in a relaxed tone, tilting her head.
“It must have… It must have been… difficult for you, you know…” I said stuttering, raising my hand to discreetly point out the deformity of her face. “Children can be very cruel.”
“Oh, not at all,” she said with a wider smile, shaking her head. “There hasn't been anyone brave enough to mess with me.”
I laughed again, incredulous at that attitude, one so different from mine. So similar and so different at the same time… Like the two sides of the same coin.
“Why you say so?” I asked curiously, with Angie starting to get impatient, tugging at my dress probably wanting to go back home.
“Because if they did… Well, they were very likely to go home with a black eye,” she whispered in a lower voice, as if she wanted to tell me a secret. “You know what they say: an eye for an eye, right?”
She was a mysterious girl, one who, with every thing she said, brought a soft laugh to my lips. It had been a long time since I laughed so many times, that the smile refused to leave my face.
“Um, I…” I murmured after a moment of awkward silence, holding Angie's hands, which pulled at my dress harder and harder. “I'll leave you alone, I've already stolen too much of your time.”
“You can steal all the time you want, my lady, as you see, there's no one around here,” the merchant said amused, looking around.
“Um, yes, well, I… I'm, I'm leaving, th-thanks,” I stammered, closing my eye because of my pathetic stammering, ready this time to really leave, to control my desire to stay and chat with that girl.
“Wait,” she said, leaving me pinned to the ground, walking out the counter. “Wait, I…”
“Mm?”
“Um, hey, you're not as scary as they say,” (Y/N) said nervously, biting her lip to contain her words, words that, apparently, came out of her mouth on their own. “I mean, I, I liked meeting you, Lady Beneviento.”
“Oh, I…” I stammered, struggling between joy and anger. I couldn't blame her for fearing me, everyone did and everyone would, forever. “Me… Me too, (Y/N)…”
It could have been just another day, but it wasn't. Meeting (Y/N) made me start to smile. It didn't matter what I was doing: cooking, reading, working with my dolls... The beauty of her face was always present in my thoughts.
Chance is a capricious God, one that made me suddenly find myself with my distorted reflection. Yes, a scar identical to the one I had as a child, a face deformed by misfortune, just like me.
But, even though we had that in common, we were very different. (Y/N) was cheerful, outgoing and didn't let anyone make fun of her. I was the opposite, like an evil double, like the negative of a photograph. It might seem silly, but, as the days went by, that urge to want to go back to the warehouse became more and more intense.
Sewing in my workshop, as always, I searched in my head for a logical explanation for my sudden interest in that young woman, like every time I did, without finding an answer.
“Angie,” I said, frowning, looking at the old sewing machine. The doll, having fun with her new wool balls, walked towards me comically getting tangled in the yellow thread.
“I hope it's not something to do with the girl from the warehouse,” the puppet hissed. Poor thing, she was sick of hearing me talk about her.
“No, no,” I said with a look that gave away my lie. “Look,” I helped the doll to get on my lap while pointing at the old machine.
“What's wrong?” she asked, looking at the machine and then at me, confused.
“Don't you see it?” I asked with a frown, picking up a piece of freshly sewn fabric. “Look at these seams, they're not right.”
“They’re just like always,” the doll commented, playing with the piece of fabric in her hands.
“No, no, not at all,” I said, shaking my head again, blinking, giving away my lie. “There's something wrong with the machine.”
“Do you know what's wrong? Your brain,” the doll mocked, causing me to grunt. “There's nothing wrong with the machine, Donna.”
“I'm telling you, it's broken,” I insisted, pretending to look for the fault that old machine didn't have. “I think there's something stuck… I should take it to (Y/N). Maybe she can take a look at it.”
“Oh, of course, of course…” the doll sighed, moving her arms in an exaggerated way. “You just want to see her again.”
“No, I… Non è vero…” I muttered, stumbling over my words. “It's, it's the machine…”
“There's nothing wrong with the machine, silly Donna, stop making stupid excuses. If you want to see (Y/N), why don't you just go?” Angie said, putting a wooden finger on my nose, which I wrinkled in displeasure, determined to deny the evidence.
“It’s not about that, Angie,” I protested, pounding my fists on the table but relaxing instantly. “I want her to take a look at it.”
“A look?” the doll scolded me. “Oh, yes, what a great idea… What are you going to tell her when she realizes that the machine is perfectly fine?”
I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t. I huffed angrily, gritting my teeth. Angie was right. My legs trembled nervously as my gaze wandered to the old machine. I didn’t even think about it.
With a quick gesture, I pushed the sewing machine to the floor, crashing against it with a dull sound, indicating that something had broken. It was a pathetic, almost desperate plan. I still didn’t know what I was doing, why I was doing it, or rather, I didn’t want to know.
“Silly Donna! Nonna’s machine!” Angie shrieked, getting down to the floor to check the condition of the machine. I remained serious, but I adopted a haughty pose.
“What do you say now? Diamo un’occhiata?” I asked mockingly, bending down to pick up the broken machine from the floor, ignoring the insults and protests of the doll.
It was too easy for me to put the veil back on and leave my house. I had a fixed destination. I had her beauty waiting for me. I think I was starting to get too nervous. Breaking my grandmother’s machine so I could see that girl… It sounded crazy, but I didn’t want to think about it.
“Oh, my lady, what a surprise,” (Y/N) said, coming down a ladder, with a, as always, beautiful smile. “The Duke has already returned from his trip, he should have brought you the fabrics.”
“Yes, I…” I murmured nervously, holding the box under Angie’s fierce gaze. “I wanted, I wanted to see you.”
“Me?” the girl asked, approaching curiously, brushing the dust off her dress.
I could only nod, leaving the box on the counter.
“I thought you could help me with this,” I muttered, with a broken voice, much more nervous than in our first meeting.
“Wow…” the young woman commented, taking the broken machine out of the box, observing every detail. “A Singer 66k, from 1917… What happened to it? It's in pieces…”
“Angie threw it,” I lied cowardly, earning a furious gasp from the doll.
“What are you talking about?!” the doll shrieked unpleasantly. “Liar, Donna liar, Donna…!”
I silenced the puppet with a subtle movement of my hands, making it stop screaming and move away, unable to stop it from glaring at me as it did so.
“Oh, that was a nasty fall…” (Y/N) joked, studying the machine. “It's a shame, it's a beauty.”
“C-Can you fix it?” I asked timidly, starting to regret what I had done. Her smile showed me that I shouldn't do it.
“Mm, I think so,” she said nodding, moving the machine to a small table with tools. I followed closely, watching her curiously. “Let's see…”
“I can, I can leave you alone if you are more comfortable,” I murmured when she started working, checking the pieces with a frown. She stopped and looked at me, shaking her head, with that wonderful smile…
“Oh, no, well… It's good to have some company, besides, that way I can prove that I'm not scamming you,” the assistant said amused, carefully unscrewing the machine.
“I trust you,” I said without thinking, playing with my hands again, trying not to look at her face, not to notice that scar that told me we had something in common, even if she couldn't know it.
“You must be the only one,” she commented sighing, searching for something in a box of spare parts. I tilted my head curiously. “Normally the people of this village are quite distrustful… I can't blame them, my boss is not exactly a… reliable man…” she said smiling, making the gesture of quotation marks with her fingers.
“You are not like him,” I said, stating a truth of which I was completely sure.
“Mm no, I hope so,” the girl joked amused, struggling with the machine. “Okay…”
Silence reigned again in the warehouse. She worked on the machine with surprising skill while I watched her, memorizing each of her movements. If she had noticed how I looked at her… Well, she would surely be terribly uncomfortable.
“So… Do you use this machine to you make clothes for your dolls?” (Y/N) asked, taking me out of my thoughts. “Y-you made dolls, right?”
“Cosa?” I said distractedly, thinking about her past, about how she had to live through that attack, about her courage when facing mockery and offensive comments, how did she do it? “Oh, I… Yes, yes of course…”
She smiled, nodding, without stopping working.
“You know? You can tell the quality of a handmade product…” she commented distractedly. “I mean, there are modern machines now but… If you ask me, I prefer the old ones, like this beauty”
“Y-Yes, I… I think the same,” I said with a smile that she couldn't see, luckily.
“I think… I think it's done,” she said, moving the crank to check that it worked correctly. “Just like new.”
I didn't expect it to end so quickly. I got nervous, like every time something didn't turn out the way I had thought.
“You are… You are skilled,” I flattered her, taking the machine and checking that, indeed, it was already fixed.
She shrugged, with an amused smile.
“There had to be something good about me, right?” she joked, getting up from the table and passing by me, allowing me to look even more at her beauty.
“Uh… Tell me how much I owe you,” I said, putting the machine back in the box, searching in my head for an absurd excuse to stay a little longer, just a little longer…
“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking at me amused, shaking her head. “It’s not necessary.”
“W-Wait, I have, I have to pay you,” I said, with my hands starting to sweat again. You relaxed your expression, sighing and shaking your head again.
“No, that it’s not necessary,” the girl said with a confused smile, surely due to the trembling of my body. “I’m happy to help you, my lady.”
“No, don't be condescending to me for who I am, I beg you to let me pay you,” I insisted with a darker, almost angry voice. Her smile was worth more than all the gold in the world...
“I'm not condescending, I'm just doing you a favor, I like you,” she murmured, frowning, as if she was trying to meet my gaze.
I pointed at myself in surprise. The words refused to come out of my mouth.
“Do you... do you like me?” I asked stammering, puzzled by that phrase, one that couldn't be true.
“Yes, you're kind,” she said, looking away. “It's not something that's especially common in this place.”
“Oh, well, I... I...” I said nervously, having the imperative need to run out of there to hide my embarrassment, the invisible blush on my cheeks. “Grazie, (Y/N)…”
“Prego,” (Y/N) said, with a wider smile, as if she knew the reaction that hearing her speak that way would provoke in my body, paralyzing it completely.
“D-Do you know Italian?” I asked curiously, with my voice shaking at the same time as my body. She laughed amused, with a clueless expression.
“Nope,” she whispered in an ironic tone. “I know the basics.”
“Oh, of course…” I said, even more nervous, looking for Angie with my gaze. “I… I'm, I'm leaving now and… Well, we'll see each other, and…”
“Whenever you want,” (Y/N) said, sitting on the counter casually, swinging her legs and picking up what looked like a cup of coffee. “Um, my lady,” she said suddenly, when I had already turned around. My blood froze again. “I hope your doll doesn't break any more things.”
“Hey!” Angie protested, rummaging through the counter. “Shut up, you idiot!”
“Angie…” I sighed, gesturing with my head so the puppet would stop stirring everything up.
“She seems to be funny,” (Y/N) commented, looking curiously at Angie.
“Yes… W-Well… She's… I don't know how to describe her…” I said, more and more nervous. “I guess she's one of a kind.”
“I see, she's like you then,” the girl said in a low tone, one that betrayed nervousness. The doll was making her nervous.
“Angie, basta,” I growled at the puppet, who was staring indiscreetly at the cup of coffee.
“Do you like coffee?” the saleswoman asked in a kind tone, looking at Angie, letting me see her beautiful, damaged face. It was so similar to mine…
“I don't know,” Angie said, in a petulant tone. “What I know is that calling this thing coffee is blasphemy, how disgusting.”
“Angie…” I protested, losing my nerves, kicking the floor pathetically.
“Hey, it's not that bad, is it?” (Y/N) asked, bringing the cup to her lips and making a face of disgust. “Well, maybe it is.”
“Don't mind her, (Y/N)…” I sighed, noticing how the sweat ran down my forehead, how my nerves kept increasing. “Angie, dai!”
“Don't be mad at her, my lady, she's right,” (Y/N) said, pouring another coffee into a different cup. “Maybe you can give me your opinion… You, you Italians are good with coffee, aren't you?”
“Me?” I asked, leaving the box on the counter, timidly reaching out my hand for the cup she offered me. “W-Well, I wouldn't know how to answer that… Actually my, my family was Italian, I… I was born here.”
“Well, but I'm sure you have better taste than me,” the girl commented, leaning on the table, frowning suddenly. “Oh, it's not mandatory, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do instead of wasting time with me.”
“Not really,” I whispered, breathing heavily at her apparent nervousness. Not wanting to think, not wanting to feel the things I felt when looking at her, I brought that steaming coffee to my lips, moving my veil aside.
(Y/N) looked away, not wanting to be indiscreet, respecting my decision, but fighting with herself to do so. I could see her confused face, her desire to look at me.
The bitter taste filled my throat. It was really horrible, I hate having to agree with Angie.
“How is it?” the young woman asked, with a fearful look. I shook my head, pushing the disgusting coffee away from my sight and smell.
“È orribile…” I murmured, trying to sound amused. I never knew how to do it.
“I thought so…” the girl sighed, making a face of disgust at that cup. “No matter how hard I try, I can't handle that thing,” she said amused, pointing to an old coffee maker.
“Do you want me to show you how to do it?” I asked without thinking, I asked without wanting to, without being able to help it. She looked at me curiously, then at the coffee maker, and finally at me again, nodding with a shy smile.
“Well, it's not necessary,” she murmured, scratching the back of her neck, downplaying it.
“Please, consider it… A favor,” I said, mysteriously sure of myself. “Because, because of the machine.”
“Mm, well, okay,” she said quickly, gesturing for me to follow her.
As calmly as I could, I taught the young woman how to make a real coffee and how to handle that coffee maker properly. She listened to me attentively, looking at me from time to time and writing down my advice in a notebook.
She was so close to me, her bright eyes were so close to mine… I don't know at what moment I was stuck in her gaze, in her almost perfect face, no, no, in her perfect face.
“It smells so good…” she commented, inhaling the intense aroma of coffee, closing her eyes, granting me the blessing of contemplating her relaxed face, her tender gaze. “I was definitely doing everything wrong.”
I laughed shyly, pouring some coffee into a cup, offering it to her kindly, praying that she wouldn't notice my shaking hands.
“Try not to fill it with too much water,” I said with a serious tone, pretending disinterest while she tasted my creation, with a look of satisfaction. “Always pay attention to the valve.”
“Yes, this is wonderful…” (Y/N) sighed. “Oh, sure, um… Let me pour you one cup.”
“I… Okay…” I stammered, accepting the offer to sit next to her in a couple of chairs.
Without having thought about it, we were together, enjoying a quiet coffee.
I couldn't remember when I felt so calm, so relaxed and at the same time, so nervous, with my heart beating too fast. I guess it was the coffee…
“And then I told him: I don't need to see with both eyes to notice that you're a complete idiot,” (Y/N) said, chatting with me in a friendly way, as if she had known me all my life. I wish it were like that.
“Did you tell him that?” I asked amused, unable to stop smiling. She nodded with a serious look.
“He wanted to go on a date with me to give me a chance, can you believe it? A chance, as if I couldn't choose...” she asked ironically, shaking her head.
I didn't answer, I just listened attentively. Her anecdotes were funny, but hearing them through her lips... That was out of this world.
“Bah, I don't need a stupid boy to tell me nice things... I know he would only do it out of pity,” she said with a slightly sadder tone.
“Mm,” I murmured, playing with my hands in my lap.
“Every morning I look at myself in the mirror and think: what would my life be like if I didn't have this thing on my face?” she commented distractedly again, stirring her coffee with her spoon erratically. “I always come to the same conclusion: Here I am, this is me, and if you don't like it, fuck you... Oh, I mean, sorry... Go to hell?”
I laughed again, a bit sadly. I saw so many things about myself in her, things she didn't consider a problem. She was brave, I was a coward.
“I wish I could think the same way,” I murmured with a broken voice, attracting her attention, drawing a confused look towards me.
“Why do you say so?” she asked in a different tone, with a more discreet smile, with the glint of caution in her eyes.
I suppressed a sob. (Y/N)'s attitude was admirable, enviable. I was never able to accept reality, to look at myself in the mirror in the same way. I was a monster, and she wasn't.
“Forget it, it's nonsense,” I sighed, getting up, wanting to go home, wanting to cry for being unable to recognize the meaning of my heartbeat, wanting to scream, to curse the Black Gods for being unfair to me.
“Oh, have I, have I said something wrong, my lady?” (Y/N) asked, suddenly standing up, putting a hand on my wrist, making my whole body shudder.
“No,” I said in a cold tone, moving away from her grip, perhaps too abruptly. “Dai, Angie,” I whispered to my doll, who was playing with the junk in that warehouse.
“W-Wait, I'm, I'm sorry,” the girl said, stopping me from continuing, standing in front of me with a pleading look.
“Why are you sorry?” I asked, with an involuntary resentment in my voice.
“Well, I, I didn't want to offend you… If I’ve said something I shouldn't have… Oh, of course, it's because of the: fuck you… I don't usually swear, really… Not always…” the young woman stammered nervously, with her gaze traveling everywhere, unable to focus on mine.
“You haven't offended me,” I said, trying to sound softer so my demons wouldn't overwhelm me again, not at that moment, not with her. “I have to go.”
“Sure, I…” she stammered, helping me to pick up the box again, with a fake smile. “Um, if you're not mad at me… Maybe you'd like to come tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I asked, surprised by that offer.
“Yes, you know, I, I'd like you to check if I've learned anything about coffee,” she said nervously, with a strange blush on her cheeks.
“Do you want me to come here tomorrow?” I asked again, unable to believe her words.
“Yes, well… Yes, if you want,” she whispered, biting her lip and looking away.
“Mm, maybe I will,” I murmured, smiling, taking advantage of the fact she couldn't see me, my smile was hidden from her, as my monstrous face was.
That was the beginning, just the beginning of my constant visits to that old warehouse.
Funny conversations, exploits and experiences of (Y/N)… Any reason was good to hear her voice, to look at her beauty under the aroma of coffee. I could no longer deny myself my feelings. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, every minute, every second.
“Donna and (Y/N) under a tree …” Angie sang, jumping around while I, like every day, walked towards the village. I growled angrily at the doll, wishing she would shut up.
“Angie, per favore…” I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t, don't talk that loud…”
“Oh, come on, there's no one here,” the puppet protested. “Besides, you're offended because you would like to be with (Y/N) under a tree.”
“Yes, it's true,” I said with a murmur, taking the doll in my arms so she wouldn't entertain me any longer. “(Y/N) is wonderful, don't you think?”
“(Y/N) is wonderful, beautiful, good, kind, fantastic, the best… Yes, yes, you've been repeating it constantly for weeks,” the doll mocked.
I smiled embarrassed.
“I've never felt this way about anyone,” I sighed, walking slower. “Angie, I'm… I'm in love with (Y/N)…”
“I know!” she complained, crossing her arms. “You're so annoying, Donna…”
“I'm not annoying, I'm talking about my feelings,” I said with a frown. “Hey, do you think, do you think she…?”
“Oh, no, no… Don't try to make me believe that I'm a fortune teller or something, I've already told you that I don't know if she feels the same. I can't read minds,” Angie said, shaking her head.
“But you're always with us,” I said, stopping before crossing the door. “Maybe, maybe you saw something that…”
“Oh, yeah… She doesn't take her eye off you,” the doll mocked with an evil laugh. “You get it? her eye.”
“Cazzo… I'm serious,” I said with a stern tone, starting to breathe hard.
“Me too,” Angie said, defensively.
I sighed, frustrated for not knowing, for not being able to read her thoughts, to decipher her smiles, to know if in any of them, she expressed something else than friendship…
“Oh, but that's not what I'm looking for,” the voice of an unknown woman made me stop in front of the warehouse door. (Y/N) was not alone.
“Who is that witch?” Angie asked, peeking through the door. I covered her mouth, hiding behind a wall.
“Mrs. Gravic…” (Y/N) sighed with a tired voice. “If you would be so kind as to tell me what you are looking for…”
“How rude, girl,” the woman protested, with a tone that made me burn with rage. “I don't know why the Duke hired you…”
“Donna… What do you think?” Angie whispered, rubbing her hands in a playful manner. I nodded, concentrating and gently reaching out my hand towards that unpleasant woman.
“Let's see… What do you say about this?” (Y/N) said, leaving something on the counter, something I couldn't see.
“Mm… Well, it could be that… Oh, Black Gods… Grandpa Igor…” the woman sighed and I smiled in satisfaction.
“Excuse me?” the girl asked, confused.
“Oh, I didn't mean to steal Grandma's jewels, don't chase me, leave me alone… No!” the woman screamed, running out of the warehouse in horror.
I nodded to the doll, high-fiving her. Mission accomplished.
“Hey, Mrs. Gravic?” (Y/N) said, looking at her confused, smiling when she saw me walk through the door. “Oh, Donna.”
“Ciao, (Y/N),” I said with the tone I always used for her, a calm one, increasingly sweeter, increasingly obvious.
“You came early today,” she commented, closing the door, like every time we were together, as if she wanted to save that moment just for the two of us. I shouldn't mistake that kindness, but at the same time, I couldn't help but do so.
“Well…” I said disinterestedly, leaving Angie on the floor, sitting on my usual chair. “I hadn’t anything better to do… I mean… Ugh…”
She laughed amused, shyly looking away, pouring the usual coffee.
It seemed like any other conversation. My words lost their fear. They became bold, even funny. All conversations developed the same way, all except that one.
“Um, forgive me for asking you but…” (Y/N) murmured, with a serious, different tone, with a look far from usual. “You probably think I'm stupid or… Well, that I'm butting in where I shouldn't but… I'm, I'm curious.”
“What are you curious about?” I asked, confused by her different attitude, by the fear I began to see in her hands.
“That,” she said with a sigh pointing at my covered face, one to which I brought my hand, with my breath frozen, lacking air.
No, not that, my love…
“Um… What?” I asked nervously, diverting the conversation, saying with my gestures that this was the wrong path, that it would only bring her problems.
“Well, you know, your veil… Why…? Why are you wearing it?” she asked again, her voice increasingly blurred by nervousness.
“Hey! Don't dare to say that to my Donna!” Angie shouted, staring at her, as if she was trying to do me a favor by deciphering her expressions.
“I…” I muttered. My hand was shaking so much that I dropped the coffee cup, breaking it into a thousand pieces on the floor. “Oh, porca miseria!”
“No, it's okay!” she exclaimed, putting her hands in front of her body. “It, it was my fault, I shouldn't have asked that… I, I… I'm, I'm sorry, shit, oh, no, no, I mean, dammit! I'll go to get a broom.”
I stood up, looking at the mess beneath me, nervous, seeking Angie's comfort, one that always brought me back to my senses. I couldn't find her, but I made a decision, the last decision, one last act of stupid bravery.
“Wait,” I said in a whisper, grabbing (Y/N) by the wrist as she swept the floor. “Wait, (Y/N)...”
She looked at me scared, guided by the movement of my hand, which forced her to keep her eyes on mine. Slowly, letting her go, I brought my hand to the black fabric, removing it from my face, revealing my deformed face to her.
Neither of us said anything. (Y/N) blinked in confusion, staring at me, getting a little closer, squinting, mouth agape. I looked away, suppressing my desire to put the veil back on, to run away and never come back.
“Wow...” she sighed, reaching out her hand to my face. I breathed nervously, holding her wrist tightly so it wouldn't reach its destination. I was about to lose my mind, in front of the love of my life… “Donna, wait, let me do it, please.”
I closed my already wet eye, holding back my tears, letting the softness of her hand caress my horrible scar, touch my hair with a rapt look.
“It's, it's incredible...” she murmured again, without stopping caressing me while I, nervous, unable to move, let that tear run down my cheek.
(Y/N) took her hand away, bringing it to her own scar, shaking her head. I couldn't speak, I couldn't even move.
“Donna, you are, you are... You are such a beautiful woman...” she said, smiling in a nervous but sincere way, illuminating me with the light of her beauty, returning her hand to my deformity, as if she herself were as nervous as I was.
“What are you talking about?” I said with great effort, almost furious, clenching my teeth. “N-N-non mi mentire…”
“I'm not lying…” she sighed, touching her own scar again, with a look of astonishment. “Wow, it's… Incredible… We have almost the same scar… Wow… Forgive me, it's just… What a coincidence, isn't it?”
“No, you're beautiful and I'm horrible,” I said sobbing, not believing her words, not even for a second.
“Oh, you must be joking,” (Y/N) said in a calmer tone, almost amused. “You have… You have a beautiful face… And well, what about that eye? It's, it's the most beautiful eye I've ever seen in my entire life.”
“What? Have you gone crazy?” I asked nervously, letting the veil fall to the floor. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Do you really think I'm laughing at you? Really?” she joked, pointing out her defect with a smug pose. I shook my head, trying to control my thoughts. “No, Donna, I'm telling you, I'm telling you the truth… Wait, what did you say?”
“Mm?” I muttered confused, running my hand through my hair, feeling unable to handle the situation any longer.
“That, that thing you said before…” she said, gesturing with her hand, accidentally stepping on the remains of that cup. “You know, that I'm…”
“You're beautiful,” I said with my head down, clenching my fists tightly.
“Mm, and how do I know you're not lying to me? You're my friend, there's no need to be accommodating,” she joked with an amused face, completely ignoring my subtle statement.
“Friend? Are you stupid?” Angie asked. “Donna, please… Tell her now.”
“Tell me what?” (Y/N) asked, curious. I cursed my doll. I was becoming more and more nervous.
“I don't know what she's talking about,” I stammered, having to stop my legs from running away right then and there.
“Hey, you can tell me anything, Donna…” the girl said, whispering in a tender voice, lowering her hands to mine, caressing them in a way that I thought was friendly, that I didn't think was romantic. “Really…”
“No, I…” I said, blinking nervously.
“Is there something worrying you?” she asked again, getting closer to me. “Come on, you can trust me.”
“(Y/N), I…” I stammered again, becoming almost hysterical as I looked at her peaceful gaze.
I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it was so difficult for her to understand my feelings. I had taken a definitive step, I couldn't go back. I couldn't turn back now that I had come that far.
“Cazzo! I, I like you, (Y/N)!” I squealed disproportionately, making her widen her eyes and frown.
“Oh, is that it?” she said, still smiling, not getting the not-so-indirect hint. “Oh, Donna, I like you too.”
“Angie’s right,” I hissed angrily, shaking my head. “Are you stupid? I’m telling that I like you, damn it!”
Her face immediately changed to a confused look. I growled again, kicking the chair roughly.
“What do you mean?” she asked again. I froze, turning to her slowly and dangerously. A thunderous laugh filled the warehouse. Angie seemed to be enjoying that.
“Porca puttana!” I squealed again, kicking the floor in rage. “I love you, (Y/N)! I’m fucking in love with you! I can't stop thinking about you day and night, counting the hours until I can see you again! I love you, ti amo! You're the woman of my life!” I squealed abruptly, making her blink comically.
“Oh…” she sighed, with an amused look.
“Is it clear now? Or do you need me to write it down for you?” I said, losing control of my emotions.
(Y/N) shook her head, but didn't say anything, so I growled furiously again, grabbing the notebook from the counter.
“I…Love…You. That's it, you still don't understand?” I said furiously, tearing off the paper and angrily putting it on her chest. “Taci, Angie or I'll deactivate you!”
“Hey… Come on… calm down…”(Y/N) said, putting a hand on my trembling shoulder, turning me around slowly. “Calm down…”
Her soft voice relaxed me, but the tears were already traveling freely down my horrible face.
“Shh…” you whispered in a tender voice, taking my hands again while I, desperate, shook my head.
“I-I'm in love with you, (Y/N)… Ti amo…” I whispered more timidly, coming back to my senses little by little, dying of embarrassment for my nervous outburst.
“Yes, I've already realized,” she said amused, bringing one of her hands to my intact cheek, wiping away one of my tears. “Donna… Listen to me… I… I feel the same way about you…”
“What?” I asked nervously, startling myself.
“The truth is that I didn't expect to fall in love with a Lord but… Well, I guess life has brought us together for a reason, don't you think? And I'm not just saying that just because... Well, you know," she said in a pleasant voice, pointing at her scar.
“You... You have feelings for me...” I said, not knowing if it was a question or a statement.
(Y/N), still caressing me, nodded.
“Please! I'm going to get diabetes!” Angie shrieked, breaking the magic of the moment. “Yuck...”
“Angie...” I lamented, just when I was starting to enjoy that moment.
“It doesn't matter, Donna...” she said, amused, still looking at me, still piercing my heart with her gaze. “You can tell she’s happy...”
“Well...” I said, laughing nervously.
“Hey... I thought about closing the store for today,” (Y/N) said, moving away. “Maybe you'd like to do something together...”
“Vu-Vuoli... Vuoli...fare qualcosa... in-insieme?” I stammered awkwardly, not keeping control of my own language.
“If you told me what I think… Yes,” she joked playfully. “Let’s do something together…”
“Oh, okay, I… Io… We can, go… You can… You can… You can come to my house if you want… I, you… you liked sewing, right?” I said nervously.
She nodded with a funny look.
“I can, I can show you my workshop, and… I can, I can… We can sew together… se… se hai voglia… E… And, I can, I can show you my bam… My dolls, and… I can, I can make one like you if you want, and we can, we can…”
“Donna,” she said, interrupting my pathetic attempt at conversation, relaxing my nerves with a soft caress, one to which I also joined my hand. “I would love to go to your house…”
“Really?” I asked, nodding, with a sincere smile, far from my usual nervous look. “Would you like to?”
“Yes…” she sighed, getting dangerously close to me. “But first, I'd like to do something…”
“Oh, okay, wh…?” I said nervously, interrupted by her lips, which kissed mine, caressed them in a tender way, in a way I never expected to feel. I don't know what her first kiss had been, but mine… I would never forget mine.
“Much better, don't you think?” she sighed still on my lips, letting the rhythm increase on its own, so I could kiss her without fear.
“Ugh, they’re kissing!” Angie protested.
We both smiled, resting our foreheads on each other.
“Come on, honey… I'm looking forward to see your dolls…”
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Id like to talk about Clay as a father,
(I dont have my thoughts together about this so bear with me)
So everyone knows hes a horrible father, but i think that in his own twisted way he tried to break the cycle, which allowed Orel to become the father he was shown as in the last episode.
Now, obviously it took Clay some time to actually try to be a father, because until Orel was 4 he neglected him, i like to think because the thought of being the same thing as his father was too much for him, but neglecting was also too much and he couldnt admit thats what he was doing, so he was torn and felt worthless. (Clay literally says he didnt know how to be a father in trust)
In Passing you can see how Arthur was hurting by Angelas death and took it all out on Clay by hitting him, which clay saw as approval. Now with Orel, Clay does so much more than that. While Arthur basically threw old gunny in Clay's face and said "fuck off", Clay actually took Orel hunting. (Or attempted to) and because Arthur didnt take Clay hunting as a kid, Clay drank, a lot more than he usually does. (He always has a glass in his hand, but in Nature he was just chugging bottle after bottle) It could also probably be because he didnt have any responsibilities except for killing animals, so he could drink and relax but i like to think its because it was hard for him to do anything father and son related when he didnt know how fathers are supposed to act.
Also, Clay states "If i can prepare you for the bleakness of adulthood, i've done my job" which i think he had to figure out on his own, with no mother and a father who doesnt care about him. So, again, in a way, he tried to be a better father than Arthur.
ALSO!! the fact that Clay never tells Orel "I love you" back probably shows that he doesnt know how to say it, so thats probably something Orel picked up from Bloberta, im just not sure in which instance she would ever say "I love you" to her family, because she doesnt love them. (Other than trying to prove Orel wrong, like them pretending to love each other in Grounded and Gods Blunders.)
I think that when Clay was saying something and trying to piss Arthur off, he was trying to say "I love you" and when Arthur hit him back, he took it as "I love you too, son" but eventually, Clay saw it for what it actually was, which is dementrated in Trust because he actually states that he feels worthless when in his fathers presence. In fact, the only time Clay ever says "I love you" in when in the presence of another man, to another man.
I think Orel tries to see this, too, despite his hurt from Clays abuse becuase i believe whole heartedly that he lets his children see Clay and Bloberta, if he didnt he wouldnt put a picture of them on the wall next to Block and Shapey.
I have more thoughts on this but this is just too messy and im not normal about anything in this show
(Side note, in Sacrifice Clay is walking out of his study and copys Shapey when he says yummy, and interaction is only something that happened before Angela died, i cant see anything positive happening between Clay and Arthur after Angela died so uh yeah)
oh i agree
i DEFINITELY agree
clay is the embodiment of "i will not be my father" and decides to be somehow WORSE
#moral orel#moral orel passing#moral orel sacrifice#arthur puppington#clay puppington#orel puppington
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Family Line by Conan Gray being nico di angelo coded
a VERY necessary post, also @that-dam-heartstopper-fan and that one anon this is for u!! THIS IS NOT ALL THE LYRICS IN THE SONG
"My mother never cried a lot She took the punches, but she never fought"
- maria di angelo taking both verbal and physical abuse from the gods (zues) and presumably her family and friends.
"I say they're just the ones who gave me life But I truly am my parents' child"
- change that to 'parent' and thats nico deflecting rumors about him being a killer and a kidnapper because of his godly parentage.
"Told a million (lies) to survive"
- nico lying to mortals about himself. lying to hades about what he is doing. lying to his friends about how he is feeling.
"I watch the fathers with their little girls And wonder what I did to deserve this"
- nico, while homeless, seeing other happy familes with food, water, warmth. while he has to move around constantly
"How could you hurt a little kid? I can't forget, I can't forgive you 'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me"
- 10 year old nico when bianca dies running into the labrinth for 'safety'. him struggling with trust issues only to be proven right once again when jason dies.
"I was a kid but I wasn't clueless (Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)"
- the people around him, jason, percy, chiron, hades, hazel(?) treating him like a fragile kid after all he had done for their respect
"All of my past, I tried to erase it But now I see, would I even change it?"
- nico realizing that as crappy as him life had been going, it made him into himself and he wouldnt have it any other way
"I can run, but I can't hide"
- after years of running and hiding from others, he finds that maybe it would be easier to stay, just this once.
based off this post, but i though about it too much and took it too far.
!!!ALSO GO LISTEN TO THE SONG IT SOO GOOD!!!!
#conan gray#family line conan gray#family line by conan gray#pjo#toa#hoo#percy jackson#trials of apollo#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo hoo toa#heros of olympus#will solace#nico di angelo#yeah so this is me over thinking#music#spotify#spotify music#rant#rant post#TUMBLR DONT LET THIS FLOP PLEASE#nico di angelo angst#nicodiangelo#nico and the cocoa puffs#nico di angelo headcannon#kinda? not really tho#jason grace#chrion#hades#hazel levesque
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ryujin itzy headcanons (nsfw/nsft) (wlw)
warnings: dom ryu, sub reader, mommy kink, fingering, riding, public sex, orgasm denial, slight humiliation, slight overstimulation, cursing, praise.
feel free to send me asks with thoughts and suggestions!
• she’s huge on ‘any time, any place’. you can always tell when she wants you because she always has a certain dark look in her eyes and its enough to make you physically weak at the knees. sofa, bed, bathroom, kitchen, she literally makes it her goal to switch it up every time to keep it interesting.
• she’s also into public sex. it started off pretty tame like fucking you in shop fitting rooms or in public bathrooms, covering your mouth to keep you quiet so you guys wouldnt get caught. but it quickly escalated, for example getting you to ride her thigh in a corner booth in a club, leaving wet sloppy kisses all over your neck making you whine as you grind against her. thank god the music drowns you out.
• she loves to talk you through it, praising you during your climax. “that’s it baby, let it out. you’re doing so well for me.” GODDDDD
• she also calls herself mommy in third person and lets out a breathy moan every time you call her that title yourself. “mommy’s got you baby.. did i tell you to stop?” it makes you die every time without fail omfg.
• she works you up in the most torturous ways imaginable, putting her hands all over your body as slow and as light as possible, smirking at you because she loves to watch you become desperate. she kisses and softly sucks at the skin on your neck as she gropes your breasts, her thumbs soon running across your nipples from over your clothes, just enough for you to feel it and writhe under her because “it isnt enough, mommy.”
• she ALWAYS asks you if you feel good, sometimes moving her hands away from your core with a smug look on her face straight after, simply to be a little mean. “mommy’s getting tired baby, can you fuck yourself on my fingers?” of course she isn’t tired, she’s only going to suddenly pump into you when you least expect it.. she just wants to watch you put on a show for her first like the obedient girl you are.
• she loves missionary over any other position because she adores watching you fall apart below her, gripping onto the sheets underneath or trying to cover your face with your arms or hands. she finds it adorable when you’re embarrassed and vulnerable.
• “what do you want, baby? where do you want to be touched? use your words, my pretty girl.” UGHHH
• she’s extremely cocky at times. if your phone rings she’ll continue pleasuring you and order you to take the call, but doesnt get mad if you end it suddenly due to it being too much for you. it only turns her on more that shes the one making you feel this good. she knows you wont even have the energy to call them back once she’s done with you anyways. LORDDD
• her speed increases every time you come, often pumping into you with two fingers as she sucks on your clit. she wont stop even after you finish just to watch you whine and shake because you’re overstimulated, and truthfully, it hurts. she’s not mean enough to continue though, its just for a few seconds.
• if you come on her fingers she’ll take them out and get you to taste yourself. “how does my baby girl taste? mm good, right?” feeling you suck on her fingers only makes her groan. she could easily climax just from watching you. most of the time she’ll kiss you straight after just to taste you once more on your own lips.
• she doesn’t want it all the time as shes more of a giver, but on occasion she’ll ask you to touch her too. “just like that. fuck, baby..” she talks you through it, encouraging you the entire time and guiding your hands where she secretly desperately needs them to get off. her moans are breathy and low, often throwing her head back and bucking up her hips, especially if you’re eating her out which is her favourite thing ever omfg.
• she constantly curses under her breath as if she cant handle the way you make her feel, as if every time is her first. she grips onto your hair and tugs it slightly without realising but you don’t mind. you wouldn’t dare keep her waiting so you make her come as fast and as intensely as you can, she loves that shit.
• she LOVES eye contact, especially when she forces you to maintain it. she will grip your hair or your chin to make sure your eyes cant leave hers. “good girl, look at me. eyes on mommy.”
lorddd i cant cope
#girl group#itzy smut#ryujin itzy#itzy ryujin#ryujinitzy#ryujin fanfic#ryujin imagines#itzy imagines#ryujin smut#ryujin nsft#itzy nsft#wlw nsft#wlw community#wlw ns/fw#lesbian#itzy headcanon#ryujin headcanon#headcanon#girl group imagines#girl group fanfic
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Hey so you know how you made Dick speak sanskrit in your fic? lives in my head rent free.
Why did he not speak romanian. how far back in the historical timeline was his clan(??? idk how to translate the word im thinking of into english but its “ନକ୍ଷ୍ୟତ୍ର”/ “ଗୋତ୍ର”) separated from the rest? How was it not prakrit? Were his parents just trying to reconnect to their roots? Did he learn it from his parents or was it learned while trying to connect with his roots? Does he ever realise that any songs and texts are all religious? Is HE religious with how many words in sanskrit straight up reference god?Does he feel alienated with how his culture is romani but his language is indian? Does he ever realise theres only one village in the world that speaks sanskrit as a native language and its over 13,000 km away? Does it get lonely realising that even damian’s knowledge of languages cant cover it?
Im sorry for ranting but my struggle to reconnect w my culture has me projecting HARD 😭
OH BOY- I have been avoiding some asks (because I haven't had the mental strength to give each the time and love response they deserves I swear im getting to yall) But THIS one was just far too good to pass (and im bored as hell in class)
I would say I do dive a little more into my headcanon culture stuff involving Dick and even Damien in Mama Bird (which again I REALLY NEED TO UPDATE)
BUT Let the rambling begin <33
Why does he speak Sanskrit in the fic vs any other language? Simply it was the closest language I could trace similar roots to Romani ancestery too that was easily acsessible dictionary/translator that I could use in my writings.
Canonically he probably WOULD speak a dilect of Romani or Prakrit etc, but in my desperate trying to look into the language and culture half of the resources I came upon were incredibly racist even for someone who had no idea about the culture before then.
How far back in the historical timeline was his clan??? (Clan/Tribe/Family are good english translation's) Im not familiar enough with Romanian clans to assign a specific one (Though from my understanding of research, The Grayson family would be desenced from Romani people lineages that used to reside in the Indus Valley region- yet another reason for the use of Sanskrit)
Were his parents just trying to reconnect to their roots? Did he learn it from his parents or was it learned while trying to connect with his roots? I havent thought into this TOO much, but i'll say as a headcanon that his family felt a great pride in their culture as some of the lucky few who could maintain their nomadic lifestyle with the circus. His Mother was probably less connected (only knowing from her grandparents sort of thing) and rediscovered her roots after meeting his Father who was VERY in tune with his culture.
And as such tried their best to reclaim those roots and share them with Dick. So yes he learned from his parents- but they were still fully connecting themselves.
Does he ever realise that any songs and texts are all religious? Is HE religious with how many words in sanskrit straight up reference god? This is more projection but as someone who grew up in the bible belt, (Translation- American southern region nicknamed "The bible belt" because of how ingrained the Christian Faith is in both religious practice and general culture) Dick is less belief religious and more culturally religious- he will use religious phrasing, have some habits/beliefs FROM religious background without being fully invested, and even some things he doesn't realize are heavily religious until pointed out.
Aka religious pratices in the way of how your mother would teach you to put knifes in the dishwasher upside down (so they wouldnt be as much of a hazard) but something you do because its how you were told instead of thinking about the WHY as much.
Does he feel alienated with how his culture is romani but his language is indian? Does he ever realise theres only one village in the world that speaks sanskrit as a native language and its over 13,000 km away?
Now this is more complicated, I don't know much about circus life (though I do actually have a friend I can ask so might change this later) But from what I know its a VERY mixed enviornment so Dick was both entrenched in his cultural lifestyle as a nomad with his parents proudly sharing their roots, while also being exposed to dozens of other cultures that were also "his".
Aka- Dick is an amalgamation of culture to the point he both belongs in more ways than most people could ever have, and yet feels completely isolated as a result since no one else understands why he gets upset when people wish him Happy Birthday early, why he always dumps the first steep of tea, why he "pays respects" to his bike and tools, why he sets aside food just to be thrown out, etc etc
Its nice, to be able to connect with people over so much, but at the same time it sucks when his family points out "weird habits" that he hadnt even realized were strange. (Thankfully after a few long talks, people stopped commenting on Dicks habits, anyone who does faces the wrath of the Batclan and just about every Hero from Metropolis to the edge of the Milky way)
Does it get lonely realising that even damian’s knowledge of languages cant cover it?
Actually Batfam DOES know some Sanskrit just by exposure of living with Dick. The one who knows the most is probably Alfred since he was the one dealing with the rambunctious kid who would get frustrated with instructions he didnt understand (and that frustration only getting worse for English being like 5th or so language)
None of them are anywhere near fluent though, but I like to think Dick has a pen pal/friends he practices with. Also because he's terrified of losing his proficency and in turn, losing another part of his culture his parents tried so hard to give to him.
And No need to apologize! Like I said, im an outsider looking in from a very different culture but I loved reading (what little good sources I could find) about this topic. Of course if you have any insights/comments/crituqes I would love to hear about them and thank you for the ask!!
#Sunny asks#OH BOY#Longest one yet tbh#Dick grayson#romani dick grayson#romani culture#sanskrit#why is every source so racist??#THAT is the true question#but thank you for the ask!!#This was so fun to think about#and made me realize#many more things#I need to think further into#the drakes spoiled brat#batfamily#sunny rambles#ty for the ask!!
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oughhhhh rant under the cut about bads babies
Sorry im so ill about bad's kids tonight
I can imagine dapper obviously looks like him, but pomme looks like him, especially in her face.
I think the difference in dapper and pomme is Dapper follows in bad's current footsteps, self sacrificial and experimental but in a much different way than pomme. Dapper follows after bad in the way that he pays attention, and has been around long enough to listen to bad's stories and learn from them rather than having to experience them, but pomme's so little....
Being not only Bad's kid but etoiles and antoines..... A warrior with a strong moral compass, a seemingly passive immortal eldritch being, and another immortal being but not passive, with his own moral compass that differs from other people because of how long hes been around...
Etoiles is in his early years for lack of a better term, living what we can presume for now is a human lifespan, his morals as far as we can tell is based on those he loves, and maybe bad has that type of moral compass too, but theres such a strong difference when you've lived for as long as bad has.
As far as i know, Antoine doesnt talk as often about his lifespan, but Bad has actively and openly told his kids about people he's loved and lost, maybe not with the intentions of instilling any lessons in there but what else are we supposed to get from them??
Vesuvius, the unnamed lover from 500 years ago, hell even skeppy isnt around right now, although hes still alive.
I think theres a difference between them because Dapper, being bad's kid, was always under the expectation that he would outlive those he loved aside from bad and maybe foolish. We can see the extension of how bad treats foolish in how Dapper treats foolish, how they bond and how bad's wordlessly inflicted his "gift vs present" mindset that he had to explain to someone like Bagi, who made the mistake of telling bad she wanted to give someone a "gift" several times before realizing theres a difference and she had to specify she meant "present".
I gotta wonder if Antoine didnt really instill the idea of immortality into his daughter, i mean like who would right?? But two immortal parents?? She has to come to terms with the idea eventually, but right now shes so small...
Bad's talked about how his presence has consistently brought bad luck - eruptions, mass plagues, falling of kingdoms and death of gods, etc. But most of the events he's talked about happened so long ago. Hundreds or thousands of years ago bad learned and relearned the message that people dont stick around, you gotta pick and choose who you really invest yourself in. And why wouldnt it be the eggs? Your kids are immortal, its probably safe to invest yourself in them!
Pomme is self sacrificial, and really caring. We can really see how Etoiles' hero heart definitely instilled itself on her, but theres gotta be a difference between that kind of moral compass when you live for that long and experience that much loss.
Dapper is a little older, and was initially raised a lot differently, and while we see him experiment on herself with the soul vultures, she doesnt talk about self sacrifice nearly as much as Pomme, previously one of the youngest eggs, and the self proclaimed sole target of the codes.
I rambled so fucking much there but just. Bad sees himself in both his kids, but the difference between them is so heavy and i feel so hard for Pomme... shes so tiny, she doesnt need that burden to shoulder, but how can bad help snap her out of it or learn to not do that when shes still so young, and hes fallen back into those habits himself??? I dont wanna say theres a maturity difference in how dapper and pomme go about throwing themselves to the lions but honestly there kinda is... i just dont know how to word it concisely
most of this is probably wrong im probably missing a lot of lore or some shit but its 4:30 am and i have a headache, just let me be ill kjbhyvjhbk
#qsmp#q!bbh#q!badboyhalo#pomme the egg#dapper the egg#q!etoiles#q!antoine#rant#i care about them sm#theyre just little :( and theyre already forced to be so mature :(#theyll have plenty of time to be like that for the rest of their very long lives....... they should be allowed to be babies now
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EPIC THE MUSICAL VENGEANCE SAGA SPOILERS!!
spoilers under the cut! do not proceed if you havent listened to the vengeance saga yet!!
also if you dont want to read my take about calypso, this may not be the review for you because thats 95% of what i talk about because I Have Opinnions. (spoiler alert, im a sympathizer)
600 strike
OKAY MY RATINGS FOR THE VENGEANCE SAGA GOES AS FOLLOWS
charybdis
not sorry for loving you
get in the water
dangerous
i thought everything was heavenly and i dont understand the hate for 600 strike???? people saying it was "too anime" like jorge wasnt inspired by video games and anime so like theres going to be a big anime cutscene of "the final boss"
my biggest complaint just stems from the fact that the saga felt a bit rushed imo? but like... thats just because the odyssey is so fucking long so of course the saga is gonna feel a bit cramped because theres just too much happening that can be put in the musical at one time
also also uh... the calypso hate... oh my god the calypso hate jesus christ you guys. calling her a monster and evil is like. an absolutely insane jump (IN MY OPINION)
because... okay. heres where my line of logic falls. obviously epic!calypso =/= odyssey!calypso are... different people, so obviously epic!calypso isnt going to be the exact same as odyssey!calypso. and i NEED people to get that distinction through their minds because i feel like y'all are comparing the two when theyre different characters written by different people.
people are saying calypso is manipulative in not sorry for loving you and im sorry, i just dont see it. manipulation is purposeful, its directed, its pointed. and i just... dont think thats what she was doing. granted she DID use manipulative language with the line "and if you hate me, then im sorry my love is too much for you" but i dont think she was actively trying to manipulate odysseus
because, like, imagine living your entire life on a deserted island. NO ONE is around you. you are literally all alone. even circe had her nymphs and aeolus had their winions. calypso didnt have any of that. so OF COURSE she was all over odysseus. of COURSE she mistook her feelings for love. of COURSE she did everything to try to keep him there. hes the only thing like her that she has ever known.
and before you come at me. i know. i know that keeping someone trapped isnt an act of love, but she doesnt know that because shes had no experience with other people before. not even other gods!
so i wouldnt even necessarily say shes being manipulative. shes just... telling him what she feels and worded it badly.
my opinion of calypso boils down to: naive and not understanding. i dont think she fully understands the weight of keeping odysseus trapped and the duress that hes under. i dont think she fully understands odysseus but she really, really wants to. shes so desperate for him to stay that shes not listening to him. and it takes hermes talking to her to snap her out of her daydream that odysseus' is hers to keep.
not sorry for loving you isnt a tantrum. its her expressing her feelings to him. its her final, true act of love by letting him go even if she really doesnt want to.
and i dont think odysseus was just telling her he loved her because thats what she wanted to hear. i mean, odysseus does not seem like the type of man to lie about his feelings or sugar coat shit in any sort of way. so i think, in some capacity, they were probably friendly. i wouldnt go as far to say that they were friends but platonic love doesnt just grow overnight.
sorry this ended up being a Calypso rant, but i honestly love her and i just dont understand why theres a lot of hatred for her. and some of the comments ive seen about her are so vile that im honestly wondering if this has anything to do with epic!calypso at all...
like dont get me wrong, i understand and fully validate you if you felt uncomfortable by her because i do see where the discomfort can lie! but i guess my kneejerk reaction to hearing love in paradise and now not sorry for loving you is that this bitch needs therapy IMMEDIATELY!
and then if you want to know the rest of my opinions about the saga its that i thought dangerous was good it just wasnt my favorite, get in the water is under not sorry for loving you just cuz i liked it more, charybdis bops i just wish it was a little longer.
anyway please dont flame roast me for my calypso opinions lol. i just have a lot of sympathy for her ig
#epic the musical#epic the vengeance saga#spoilers#epic spoilers#epic odysseus#epic calypso#im legitimately scared for what the comments and reposts will be lilke#epic community be nice#NUANCE PEOPLE NUANCE!!#spazposting
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Because you said you love rambeling about lore and you are looking for excuses to talk about it redeem this cupon for one free lore ramble, any topic
OH YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT U JUST DONE
SIT BACK AND RELAX CUZ THE GOATS UNIVERSE HAS BEEN IN MY MIND THE WHOLE WEEK + SOME HEKET RAMBLING Cuz I got her a partner idea hehehe <3
LONG RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT!!! (btw bless chu I appreciate u <3 )
ABOUT CULT OF THE GOAT AU:
About the Purple Crown: Ive been seeing a lot of interpretations of Goat's Crown going around and honestly Id like to put in my cents: I dont think the Crown being purple changes who the owner was, because the eye shape is still the same as Lamb's Which brings me to think that, just like how in COTL everything seems to be colored after warmer/reddish colors, everything in Goat's universe must be following cooler/purpleish palettes What does that mean to me? That ALL the other Crowns are of different colors as well, maybe a colder one compared to their original ones
Im still thinking about what each of them would be here but so far I like to think that Yellow -> Ocean green?? Green -> Blue Blue -> dark pink? Purple -> Cyan/White
I think the Crown shapes would still be the same + what each Bishop's domain would be as well
About Aym and Baal: They were never offered to Narinder. Shamura didnt have that compassion. They were so mad at their brother that they couldnt bring themselves to consider his feelings for being banished. Neither did any of the other siblings, for they wouldve been too busy fighting off Old Gods and hunting for empowerment
So where are Aym and Baal? Theyre alive! With Forneus! And both of them are lil jerks as much as their mother Taught to steal, lie and fight, all in order to survive no matter what. The twins have already expressed wanting to go out and explore the world, but Forneus refuses to let her kids go, much for her own selfish reasons of them being the only things that make her happy in this fcked up world AND because, of course, she loves them. She knows how cruel the world has turned into, she does not want to lose them Aym and Baal never met Narinder, and Narinder never met them Maybe eventually, while Goat is out in a crusade, they shall cross paths........as enemies
About the Purgatory: This is still smtng I am speculating about, but what I have so far: instead of it being MS to tell the Goat to free the Bishops from their deserved-suffering, itd be them asking the deity if such thing was possible, because Narinder wouldve been feeling bad about it He believes that his siblings could change over time, especially now that the Crowns were relinquished by the Goats power, and so they are allowed to have that chance This would unlock many scenarios of the Bishops actively trying to take over the cult, run away or kill the Goat + their followers. It is smtng Ill let cook for a while more
IF ANYTHING Id just- leave them dead lol they wouldnt be redeemable in this world (BUT BECAUSE I LOVE MY SKRUNKLIES EQUALLY ILL TRY TO MAKE IT WORK-)
ABOUT HEKET: Ehehehe I accidentally started shipping her with my follower OC Astrid so we'll see how it goes
Astrid is someone who keeps to herself for the sake of others; she is not used to opening up and oftentimes believes her pain is not worth of complains compared to others she is caring for However, she is very much talkative, maybe as a way to make her forget her problems Whilst Heket she- well. She cant. Talk much it hurts like hell UASHDNJASMDK
SO WE HAVE A TALKATIVE BUBBLY GF WITh her mostly quiet butch wife that shes constantly having to change the bandages of <3
I have a dialogue set up for them which I shall get to drawing a comic for as soon as I am done with thIS CURRENT COMIC-
ANYWAYS thats the ramblings for now, HOPE YALL LIKE THE IDEAS bless u again for givng me a free pass made me rlly happy MWEHE,,!! 💜💜💜
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Thinking abt how much I love oni's writing again... In particular, "a seed is planted" continues to be one of if not my favorite logs because despite the troubling details and implications that come with it, it's the one thing in the entirety of the decaying corpse of gravitas that genuinely leaves us with a grain of hope (a seed if you will) and makes oni as a whole a lot more bitter sweet as while earth may not have survived, the dupes did, and after their horrible origins and the shit that many of them went through, in due time they'll finally get to just live, they're free now, and even if Olivia's sleep is end of a tragedy, the world will keep moving forward with or without those who've been lost
#rat rambles#oni posting#like I guess I just rly love that oni both manages to commit to being a tragedy while also leaving a world still in motion#like Im glad that olivia didnt get a bittersweet ending and instead got a fucking miserable one#while at the same time the dupes are still left there to keep moving forward#well ok more so I like how the narrative shifts into smth quite beautiful when seen from the dupes perspectives#which is also why I like that the dupes are rarely talked abt directly in the lore logs#idk I just feel like a seed is planted wouldnt hit as hard to me if the dupes were talked abt more#its the same sort of incedental storytelling that I like abt the rest of oni's writing ig#also I just think them being a major part of the lore logs would rly take away from the greater horrors and tragedies of gravitas#like idk I think it would have been a lot more boring if a third of the logs were just jackie going so yeah I tortured dupes some more#it makes the pre end of the world world feel so much bigger while still mostly remaining within gravitas itself#enhances the feeling of glimpsing into a past world#like every now and then I think abt what oni story could have looked like and am filled with joy at what it is now#I fucking love being into fiction thats good god it feels so good to like shit thats just like actually good#it honestly makes me almost wish there wouldnt be new lore but I do think theres room for more#as in theres plenty of room to make shit up and also we need to see more of the scientists pls#as for actual quote unquote plot stuff idk just give me like one jackie and olivia college year video transcript or smth and we're good#theres other stuff that make me lose my mind but for narrative consistency I think itd be best to not touch those two too much#especially olivia I rly think she doesnt need almost any new content the only stuff Id want with her is if it expanded upon jackie#because rly jackie is the only character I think would super heavily benefit from elaboration even if I stand by her not needing much#as Ive said a billion times just smth small to show us her in a more casual setting and we're golden I think#show me that woman being genuinely happy so I can fill in the blanks as she slowly gets crushed by the consequences of her actions#shes a part of this tragedy too and god damnit I want to see the life she ruined along the way of ruining many others#I want to see a woman whos eyes once shined and then when the lights have dulled I want her to say it was worth it with no conviction#metaphorically ofc I dont actually want to see most of it because thatd go against the narrative philosophy already established#rly all this means is I wanna see jackie and olivia doing laundry together or smth#oh also I hope they specifically give otto a whole other log just to clear up my pronoun woes#idc what its abt just have them talk abt their gender offhand or smth#just mi-ma being like how do you do young man and otto is like they and mi-ma is like ah yes young they
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can i req jax x reader angst? o-(-( been brainrotting on this idea for so long now; jax goes a little overboard with his joke or prank and reader gets upset by it.. but he doesnt really approach reader to say sorry for a while because he doesnt really know how to? so it worsens the situation? thank uuu!!!!
Severed ties (jax x reader)
There will be NO!!!! Comfort here!!! I want pain!!
Written this as platonic !!
Not proof read and written on mobile!! Yahoo!!
Honestly I love writing angstier stuff, like
Idk I like exploring the topic and the feelings
Jac in general does not seem like the type of person to apologize. It hurts his pride and ego, and really in his eyes everything he does is "all in good fun", or as a means to entertain... himself, mostly
What, is he supposed to apologize because his little joke made someone upset? That's his thought process, I think. Like unless there are huge consequences or he is actively trying to better himself I really don't think he would give a sincere apology, you know?
Like imma be so real here, I know I usually portray jax as a prankster but so far he's worse than that. He has pushed gangle at least twice (in the pilot, and in her tailer), he stepped on her mask and knowing him I wouldnt be surprised if it was on purpose. He just. Ripped zoobles arm off (like yeah sure it doesnt look like it hurts and it can be reattached, but its the idea that he just disrespects them like that), throwing a bowling ball at kinger, ect ect ect
Like I think I down play how mean jax can be
I think a lot of this is caused by the digital world; given that hes probably gotten way too comfortable with the fact you cant get severely injured in the digital world or hahe any long lasting physical damage, you know?
Anyways onto the actual request
I think it's less likely to happen if this is a romantic relationship because I think at that point in time you guys respect each other enough to not be goofy and communicate stuff. As well as this, this prompts jax to try to tone it down.. can also see this happening if you guys are close friends
So really this can only happen if you guys are only like. Normal level friends, because otherwise jax at least learns remorse and tries to be less. Uehdjcf.. you know?
Like I love jax as a character and I enjoy writing him but I'm realizing just how assholish he is based on the pilot
Honestly to be friends with jax you're going to have to be able to have some kind of tolerance to his more tame everyday stuff... imma be nice and assuming the stuff he does above isnt in his usual league of asshole-ness... or maybe it is? I dunno
But some prank he pulls goes too far, and he laughs at you. Probably takes to down play it if you're actually upset, trying to dismiss it as a good ol fashion joke
If he gives an apology it's a half assed one
This leads to you not talking to him as much anymore, if at all
In fact, you may even go as far as to avoiding him during IHAs
And you know what
At first he thinks you're just being sour over his little practical joke
But overtime as you continue to bold your ground he starts to... actually feel bad
And if he does ever sincerely apologize, its likely two late
That's also assuming you dont abstract before then
God can you imagine that, I mean what's worse? Never being able to apologize because the person is effectively dead, or apologizing and not being forgiven?
I think this would push jax to try to tone down his antics
Like he wont totally stop, but it will definitely go back to the light hearted fun I like to headcannon it being when he first joined the circus.. before it got all.. meaner..
Boredom does terrible things to someone and given that the consequences of losing your mind in this place are huge.. I can't help but understand jax a little, assuming my headcannon is correct
Though again he might just be an asshole
While your friendship may be dead and buried now, at least jax learned a lesson that actions do in fact have consequences
And hopefully it sticks
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#jax x you#jax x reader#jax imagine
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I love Beatrice feels about Avas gender identity (or lack of). And how, for Beatrice, her womanhood is still an important part of her, even if she expresses that part differently than other women. And how Bea is just down for the ride when Ava experiments with their gender expression, just endless support and love and just letting Ava try out whatever they want. Like the scene with the binder, Ava wasnt visibly uncomfortable or weirded out, she just said that it wasnt something for her, and Bea never discouraged her of trying it out by telling her that she wouldnt like it, or other masculine things that fit better, like the suit. So yeah, thanks for having someone like Ava who doenst give a fuck about how she "should" dress and act as told by society and then Beatrice, for whom womanhood is still an important part of, but she puts her personal own spin on it, so she still feels like herself and happy. So, yeah you said you already have two butch!Bea prompts, so I just wanted to request a Avatrice fic with some happy gender expressions/feels it doesnt have to be butch!Bea AU, if you want. But yeah, I love how you write Beas butch style but still in touch with her womanhood. (And of course her kicking ass in Aikaido class ;) )
‘wow,’ you say, a little breathless. ava grins, spins around in their tuxedo slacks and button down with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows, an old binder of yours that’s loose on them but still offers some compression underneath, paired with patent leather loafers and a tie loose around their neck. they’ve slicked their hair back neatly and are grinning, arms outstretched. ‘you look amazing.’
‘yeah?’
‘of course,’ you say, as if there was any other possibility. ava wraps her arm around your waist and looks in the mirror at the both of you together: it’s a little different, because you’re used to ava in the dresses and crop tops and flowy pants he loves, an old favorite pair of overalls — but it’s, like, really, really hot. you’ve learned through your friends and therapy and ava’s own deep exuberance around queerness that you really are in love in so many of its forms, the textures it takes and allows; while you feel much, much better and safer and more comfortable and at ease in yourself when you’re in loose, easy pants, your chest flat, your hair short, you have never begrudged ava their expansion. they’ve seen so, so much, lived through more pain than anyone should ever have to, so everything about them, even at their most annoying, is beautiful to you.
‘if i wore a packer into a cathedral, do you think i would be struck down or something?’
it takes a second too long for your brain to get unstuck from the heat that races down your spine; ava smirks. ‘are you —‘ unfortunately your voice comes out a little strangled and you have to regroup — ‘are you wearing one?’
‘nah,’ ava says. ‘thought about it, but these pants are kinda tight and if i have to sit through some dumbass pomp and circumstance at the vatican i’m at least going to be comfortable.’
you hum, the best you can do.
‘maybe i’ll wear it tomorrow with that new skirt i got in madrid though,’ she says, far too casual for the victorious expression on her face.
‘well, you do know god best.’
‘that’s so true,’ ava says, preening again and then turning toward you. ‘gender expression, totally cool with god, if you can believe that.’
‘i suppose i can.’ ava’s smirk softens into an easy smile, one you revel in every time it’s for you, the way sunflowers turn toward the sun.
‘plus, this little vest situation you have going on is, like, so hot. god can’t begrudge me your arms, not after all i’ve done.’
you huff at their obvious delight in flustering you, but it’s summer and very hot and, really, the light sweater vest you’d picked out to go with your very church-appropriate slacks is also quite tame.
‘i love you,’ they say, softening again, and kiss your cheek. ‘now, let’s go scandalize some conservatives, shall we?’
you laugh, unable to resist ava’s warmth, again and again. ‘we shall.’
#wn fic#avatrice fic#prompts#wn#avatrice#smth smth ava modeling her look off of nate from gossip girl but w a side of slutty blair i can't explain further but u get it#another silly one esp for those of u in my inbox BEGGING for masc ava lol this is p much all i got#butch bea 🥺🫡
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Commeeeetttt, may I leave you a crumb? A CumDrop crumb?
They’re in her room, he’s flat on his back and she’s on her side next to him, with a leg thrown over his. He can feel how wet she is against his thigh, and he so badly wants to get down there, get his lips around her clit, make her legs squeeze around his head. He aches for it. But thats not what she wants.
No no no.
What she wants, is Dew in her hand, literally. They start slow, he’s still limp in her grip while she toys with him. She doesnt want to tease, not tonight. Her other arm is under his neck, far enough to touch his shoulder, she drifts her fingers over the skin, maybe rubs and squeezes and the scarce muscle as a reassurance.
When she feels him start to fill out, when it starts to feel really good, he angles his head to kiss her. Its slow, lingering and exactly what she wants. She’ll start to move her hand faster and faster, getting her hand on herself to slick it up and get Dew wet too. Dew breathes heavy, inhaling the sweet scent of her, her arousal. He can damn near taste it on his tongue and it’s so dizzying.
The entire time, he murmurs thank you’s, and love you under her jaw where he’s pressed his face in. Dew lets her move, lets her decide everything— he knows not to beg, not to ask for something. He know’s she’ll take care of him. All he does is whine while she coos at him.
Like I said, she doesnt want to tease tonight, so she lets him cum, tells him to let go whenever he’s ready. And when he does? Its almost like she’s enjoying it more than he is. Dew hopes he was a good boy, that he behaved and did everything she wanted. Because even if he’s the one receiving, its all still about her, and Dew wouldnt have it any other way. He’s at her mercy each and every time, forever.
YOU GET THEM, VEE. Their dynamic is so important to me. God he just loves her so much. Bet he doesn't so much as lift his hips, doesn't hump into her hand, stays still, stays good. Not because he's worried she'll stop, or she won't let him cum. But because that's what she wants. And whatever Cumulus wants, she gets.
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