#dannat

[srednod]

William Turner Dannat (1853–1929) Study for "An Aragonese Smuggler" 1881

[random-brushstrokes]

William Turner Dannat - Spanish Girl making Cigarettes (1890)

[vizuart]

William Turner Dannat - Spanish Girl making Cigarettes (1890)

[llhg]

|Day 30 Destiny|

If Malachia made it out of the path of metamorphosis safe and sound (in the comics) so can these two !!

Woah I managed to somehow do (nearly) every day of this month long challenge, pat on the back for myself 😌.

[blairwaldcrf]

Dan & Nate + Jordan (ie the yale threesome episode we deserved)

+

[khamori]

.

[givemeanorigami]

Madonna che fatica convivere con lo spazio e la forma che occupa il mio corpo quando tutto mi è perennemente piccolo o grande.

E anche oggi ci sentiamo meno sbagliate domani.

[iiroiiros]

Natalee oh so casually takes Dan Heng's hand in her own, pressing a kiss to the back of it. " you're looking lovely today, Dan Heng~ "

unprompted

He usually wasn't one for random acts of affection. Compassion was one thing, and he was used to his fellow trailblazers making sure they thought of him and doing something for Dan Heng. But the other was...well. It was something he was never able to fathom, considering the way he's been treated for the entirety of this life. Tortured, exiled, hunted...tenderness was a rarity for him.

Natalee's gesture makes him freeze for a good few moments, a blush steadily crawling its way across his face and ears. But he was not so easily swayed that he would find himself swooning over a mere kiss to his hand, much less from someone new to the Express. Pursing his lips, Dan Heng gently pulls his hand back and holds it with his other one, averting his gaze from the snowy-haired woman. "...Thank you, but I just dress like this every day." He's not so mean as to brush off the site of the kiss, but it was so out of the blue that he's not sure how to feel about it. "I wouldn't exactly call it lovely." Even though March was always taking pictures of him along with everyone else, that was just a March thing. Dan Heng doesn't find himself particularly handsome.

[ilcovodelbikersgrunf]

[HD] Anime Dannate - Folkstone official Videoclip

[demonecelestiale]

buonanotte da me che cerco la gente che con cui comunico a lavoro su instagram

[s-a-f-e-w-o-r-d--2]

La vita è fatta di compromessi... Alcune anime dannate, sono costrette a celare la propria natura per sopravvivere... Ma è necessario saper anche darle sfogo... Dentro e fuori... Davanti e dietro... Sopra e sotto... Abbiamo sempre un lato oscuro... Esserne consapevoli ci libera dal rimorso... Sapere di dover nutrire entrambi... È vitale... Saper dosare in maniera adeguata le nostre inclinazioni ci fa sentire appagati... Completi... Lasciarle libere di esprimersi... In tutte le loro sfacettature ci da pace...

~ Virginia ~

[raffaeleitlodeo]

ha ragione, signora singh – il nostro non è un paese buono, non siamo stati mai brava gente. siamo codardi e servi nei confronti dello straniero che arriva qui potente, lo siamo sempre stati; ma siamo feroci e crudeli se lo straniero che arriva è povero e malridotto – ci piace infierire. come abbiamo sempre infierito dove siamo arrivati noi, da potenti e armati fino ai denti – allora sì, abbiamo mostrato il nostro “eroico valore” uccidendo e compiendo stragi. i nostri bisnonni andavano in giro per il mondo a cercare un tozzo di pane – proprio come lei e suo marito satnam; ci hanno linciato, nelle americhe e in francia, morivamo assiderati per passare i confini, e quando finalmente arrivavamo nelle terre promesse accettavamo qualunque lavoro, anche il più umile, anche il più faticoso. abbiamo dimenticato tutto questo, ora abbiamo la pancia piena e il portafoglio gonfio e nessuno vuole più sporcarsi le mani, spaccarsi la schiena: siamo troppo dediti a depilarci, a tatuarci, a spettegolarci – è per questo che mettiamo voi sventurati a tre euro l’ora sotto il sole cocente a quaranta gradi a lavorare: perché se c’è una cosa che sappiamo fare è il caporale. gli italiani sono caporali – per vocazione: duri con i sottoposti, servili con i superiori, sempre bravi a rubacchiare in fureria. facciamo la guerra ai barconi - sai che medaglie al valor militare! ora sono tutti scandalizzati – troppo orrore, troppo splatter: quel braccio poggiato lì sulla cassetta della frutta è scena da film dell’orrore. senza braccio - se questo è un uomo. governi, sindaci, sindacalisti, politici – quante dichiarazioni. come se questo orrore, questo splatter, questo film dell’orrore non si consumasse giorno dopo giorno, h24, in ogni campagna, in ogni luogo dove si raccolgono pomodori, lattughine, cipolle e arance. le posso garantire, signora singh, che durerà qualche giorno – poi, tutto tornerà come prima: sono vent’anni che tutto è sempre così. non ci perdoni, signora singh. ma se può, preghi il suo dio per le nostre anime dannate. il nostro, s'è stufato di noi. Lanfranco Caminiti, Facebook

[occhietti]

Le donne che amano i gatti...

Esseri un po' strani,

non le puoi comprendere,

le puoi solo vivere.

Anime dannate. Solitarie.

Non addomesticabili.

Libere di essere chi sono.

Odiano i compromessi,

non sono di nessuno.

Difficili da adattare.

Amano follemente

ma non dipendono da nessuno.

Esseri di luce.

Anime profonde…

Spiriti selvaggi.

- Autore sconosciuto

[mynameis-gloria]

Ore 8:16 / Dannate tentazioni/ brava furba

[abatelunare]

Segni di distinzione

Quando svolazzo per le vie della mia città come una farfallina, sono uno dei pochissimi a non trafficare con il proprio telefonino. Quasi tutti ascoltano, parlano, inviano vocali, picchiano con le dita sulla schermo come anime dannate in cerca di refrigerio. Io no, perché ho scelto un cellulare a conchiglia, di quelli che non navigano e che non supportano uozzap. È una delle occasioni in cui mi piace distinguermi dagli altri.

[thatchickwithtoomanyhobbies]

Green With Envy (Aiello)

***Based off the scene where Daniels finally reads Hazel’s letter. Aiello is jealous that Daniels is going home to a wife and baby when the war ends. Devolves into a self pity-party.***

“She’s pregnant,” Daniels said. The shock of those words was plain on his face. That’s certainly not what he had been expecting when he opened the letter. It wasn’t what any of them had been expecting either. They’d all been expecting it to be a Dear-John. And secretly, Frank Aiello had hoped it was.

Not that he wanted Daniels to be unhappy, that wasn’t it at all. But it sure would’ve been nice for someone to share in the heartbreak he had been experiencing as of late. He’d gotten a letter from his sister a week earlier stating that his girlfriend, Gracie, was done and now seeing someone else. Why she couldn’t tell him that herself he’d never know. But boy, did it sting. Especially since he had been planning to propose to her once he got back.

“Alright! Daniels is gonna be a daddy!” he said, plastering a fake smile on his face. Even he could tell his voice was dripping with jealousy. He just hoped the other guys couldn’t tell how envious he was of his comrade’s news.

“She was tryin to let me know, but I wasn’t ready…”

He instantly felt guilty, although probably not as guilty as he should. He had a lot to go confess to Father Anthony when he got back to Queens.

“Alright…” Zussman said, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I could use another cuppa joe. C’mon you mooks, let’s give him some space.” He was obviously trying to take control of the situation the best way he could.

He got up, feeling the familiar grain of the wooden drumsticks in his hand. He knew when to take a hint.

“But I don’t want coffee,” Stiles said. Aiello cringed. For someone that smart he sure could be stupid and oblivious. Sometimes he wondered if God put an ounce of common sense in that boy.

“Sure you do,” Zussman said, gesturing with his eyes at Daniels. This was definitely not about coffee. Finally, the man got the hint and left Daniels alone with his thoughts in the tent.

“I’m gonna go take a walk, boys.” Aiello said, not waiting for a response. He needed to blow off some steam before they caught on. He still hadn’t told the boys what had happened with Gracie. As far as they knew, he was still planning to get down on one knee when they returned and he planned to keep it that way as long as possible.

Drumsticks in hand, he turned and walked into the surrounding forest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had found this spot a couple days prior when they first set up camp. Nice and secluded, away from the eyes of his friends, especially Stiles. As oblivious as he was at times, Stiles could always tell when he was off and usually called him out on it.

“As if I need that right now,” he thought to himself, lighting a cigarette and sitting down at the base of the tree.

He took a long drag of his cigarette. It’s not like he wanted Daniels to be unhappy. Far from it, in fact. He wanted him to be happy. And this was the best news he could’ve gotten. However, it couldn’t have come at a worse time, for Aiello anyway.

“Gracie started seeing the boy from the theater this week. She said she couldn’t handle you being over there anymore or the thought that you might not come back. I’m sorry, Frankie. I wish I could do something to change her mind.” His sister’s letter had said.

“Fanculo! Di tutte quelle dannate cose...” He yelled, throwing his now-burnt out cigarette as hard as he could. How could she of all people do this to him?

Gracie had been his sister’s best friend since childhood. Their mothers had met at Sunday Mass and the girls had hit it off. He had avoided her as much as possible when they were kids, seeing as he thought all girls (with the exception of his mother) had cooties. As they grew older however , he gradually began to notice just how beautiful she actually was. The way her green eyes sparkled and her brown curls cascaded down her back when she wore her hair loose gave him butterflies.

Gradually he began getting to know her, eventually becoming as close to her as his sister was.

“I’m in love with you, Gracie. So, so in love with you,” he had told her the day he was shipped off to basic. “I know this isn’t the best timing considering…”

Considering he may never come home again. But he never got the chance to finish that thought, considering she cut him off with a kiss.

From that day forward they were a couple, exchanging letters every few weeks. He had noticed she had been getting distant over the last few letters, but he chalked it up to her mother’s dress shop being busy. Oh how naive he was.

He was going to propose to her when he got home and start a life with the woman he loved. He had even bought a ring the last time he was home. It had taken all his willpower not to propose to her that very same day.

His post-war happy ending was gone- now nothing but a pile of rubble in the war zone of his life. If all went well, Daniels was going home to a wife and baby. Stiles had a job lined up at the local paper as a photographer.

“Step one to photo of the year!” He had said, the usual sparkle in his brown eyes growing brighter.

As long as Zussman got back home to his parents and sister he was happy. They all had their happy ending they were going home to.

“All except me,” he muttered. Nothing in life ever went his way. It was as if he was the victim of some sort of cosmic practical joke. He just wanted to be happy. Why was that so difficult? What did he do so wrong that God hated him and made his life miserable?

God help him, he was jealous. So seethingly jealous he could almost taste it. Some Catholic he was, committing the worst of the seven deadly sins. He could remember being taught in Catholic school as a small boy that envy was the worst sin you could commit. And yet here he was wallowing in it.

Jealous of Daniels wife and unborn child he got to go home to. Jealous that Stiles had a new career waiting for him. Jealous of Zussman’s contentment to simply survive this hell-hole they were in. And here he was, with nothing to go back to except a rundown apartment.

“Aiello! Where are you?” Not now. Of all people it had to be Stiles coming to look for him. “Aiello! Davis is about to talk! C’mon!”

“Fanculo la mia vita!” he cursed, hurling a rock into the trees. He knew Stiles would notice something was wrong. He always noticed everything unless it was blatantly obvious. Funny how that worked.

“Hey! There you are! I’ve been looking for you for ten minutes,” Stiles said, his smile pulling higher on the right side in its way. The smile changed to concern when he saw his friend. “Hey, Bud? You ok?” He asked. He knew something was wrong. Not that Aiello wasn’t good at hiding his emotions. He was, he just wasn’t good at hiding them from him.

“Yeah, College. I’m fine. Let’s go,” Aiello said rolling his eyes. Yep, something was wrong.

“We better hurry up before Pierson rips into us,” Stiles said, tripping into a run.

“At least he didn’t push it this time,” he thought to himself. He know Stiles could tell he was off, at least this time he had enough common sense not to pester him about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the camp came into view, he could see Zussman going into the tent the four men shared.

“Is he still in there?” He asked. He was surprised Daniels was that upset by his wife’s letter.

“Yep. He’s been in there since you walked off,” Stiles responded finally slowing to a walk.

He couldn’t meet Daniels’ eyes as walked out to join the rest of them in the open. He stared at the toe of his boot. Daniels wasn’t a bad man. In fact he was one of the nicest people he knew. That’s what scared him. Scared that Daniels would see just how green he was with envy.

***So that’s that. Maybe I’m reading a bit too much into it, but in that scene in the game Aiello looks a bit jealous so i decided to expand upon that a bit in this story. If you have any suggestions for more stories let me know! Love, Bird.***