#i turned out to be a ventriloquist so

[wwwdotjesterdotcom]

Reposting this for shits and giggles bc I don't expect asks about this lol. But I'll answer some in the tags

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[goathag]

Just blessed Vash with a walkman full of "Queen" songs

I like the "I know he knows I know" aspect of their relationship 

[ID: A Trigun comic that starts with a Walkman with earbuds plugged in singing, “Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?” Vash walks in the desert with earbuds in and a smile on his face, dancing dramatically with moves labeled as the Ventriloquist’s A Cappella, Poorly Played Air Guitar, and The Invisible Piano.

As Vash slides on his knees and sings into an imaginary microphone, “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for meee,” Wolfwood stares at him and asks, “... You’re fine, Spikey?” Vash pops out an earbud with a raised-eyebrow grin and says, “Huh?” Wolfwood scowls as he shares an earbud and Vash says, “Oh, just listen, that is the best part.”

The comic, which had previously been accented with bright blue and warm pastels, turns black and white as the song goes, “So you think you can love me and leave me to die?” Wolfwood looks at Vash with furrowed brows, almost seeming accusing or stunned, and Vash smiles mildly, “Cool, right?” En ID]

The description was made by  @princess-of-purple-prose . Thank you! 💙

[calamarikitty]

Hazbin Hotel Redesigns - Part One!

brainworms told me to hyperfixate on hazbin hotel and i did. so here are some redesigns! i'm planning on doing all of the cast, starting with the big (little) guy of hell himself, charlie, and vaggie! next is going to be the hotel staff (niffty, alastor, and husk)! individual pngs and redesign notes under cut

Lucifer Morningstar - He/him, trans man, bisexual he has goat hooves, horns, and ears, as well as a little goatee:-) his tail is a lions, since lions symbolize jesus, royalty, and also are a little nod to pride.

he doesn't keep his wings after he falls from heaven. i know he has his wings in the og show, but i never understood why. he lost his wings in the fall and still has feather growth, but they turn into these weird malformed lumps of flesh and feather instead of actual wings. they're quite itchy and uncomfortable for him.

longer hair, for fun! as well as lots of apple motifs. he has little lines coming from his lips like a ventriloquist doll or puppet. i've seen it in a lot of charlie and lucifer redesigns and i think it's super cool.

he wears pretty fancy clothes but doesn't go overboard with it, as he doesn't particularly like his royal status.

he has a special interest in toy making and is specifically hyperfixated on rubber ducks! he's able to use toy making as a creative outlet to distract himself.

no shoes cuz he has sensory issues and shoes made for hooves don't seem comfortable!!!

still wears his wedding ring even though there hasn't been any sign of lilith for years

Charlotte 'Charlie' Morningstar - She/her, cis woman, bisexual she also has goat hooves and ears, but unlike her father, she has horns more reminiscent of a ram's, much like her mother's horns. her tail is more of a classic imp shape, since she is a hellborn demon and not a fallen angel like her father.

the bottom of her pigtails are meant to resemble angel wings! she's a little piece of heaven in hell:-)

i didn't change her outfit too much, but i did want to add things to it to make it stand out more. she has gold details like her dad, as well as a bowtie with an eye detail to nod to biblically accurate angels.

she has the ventriloquist mouth like her dad! in general, she also looks more like her dad than her mom.

Vaggie - She/her, intersex, lesbian SHE DESERVED A MORE PURPLEY COLOR PALETTE!! purple is definitely her color.

i changed her body type a lot in this redesign, i think it makes more sense for her to be buffer, because of her history.

she's not a moth demon, but disguises as one to blend in, since most sinners have animal motifs.

fur collar and fur leg warmers because i think they're really fun. i also think she's most definitely a pencil skirt + combat boots girl.

i actually do kind of like the X on her hair in her og design, but i wanted to make it look less?? plastered on?? since in her og design i genuinely can't tell if it's meant to be part of her hair or not.

she has a big bow like her og design, but it's meant to be reminiscent of moth antenna. it also adds to her biblical angel silhouette! another eye detail on her chest, like charlie, to nod to angels. this nod is particularly relevant considering her past!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello, before I request I would like to say that your work is my favorite!!!!

May I request a work that entails Wife Reader getting pregnant by Donna (scene would be appreciated) and both of them going through all of the milestones (finding out reader is pregnant, baby bump, first kick, etc.) Then after baby is born going through a couple of milestones before finding out Reader is pregnant again.

Thank you so much again!!!

Yessss!!!!! Thank you for your kindness and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Step by step

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff

Word count: 4,488

Summary: It's the beginning of a new stage on your life...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Hey, give me a hand,” you said, carrying a heavy box and entering the workshop.

Your wife immediately turned around getting up from the work table and running to support the weight until she carried it back to a nearby table.

The lady in black bent down to check its contents while you rubbed your sweaty forehead from the effort.

“Did he bring the eyes?” the woman asked, rummaging through that box and taking out a jar full of those objects.

You couldn't help but shiver and frown.

“Brr,” you shivered exaggeratedly as she looked at those lifeless eyes carefully. “That's quite disturbing, Donna.”

She looked at you with a smile and shook her head.

“Dolls need eyes, (Y/N),” she said in a soft voice, opening the jar and looking for two of the same color, perfect for an empty head that was on the table.

“Yes…” you joked, nodding with a distrustful look. “The fat Duke told me… You know, the usual, that it's hard to get the materials, that coming here is a hassle…”

“He's fooled you again, huh?” Donna said amused, giving life to that porcelain head. “You're very naive.”

“Naive? Oh, of course, of course,” you answered, pointing at yourself and approaching her slowly. “Why don't you negotiate with him instead of me?”

“Because I'm busy,” she answered with a concentrated whisper.

“Well, your lei that are at stake,” you murmured, letting yourself fall into a nearby chair.

“I have plenty of lei,” the brunette commented, carefully observing that shiny head, which she left at your side.

You took that piece of porcelain with an amused laugh, placing it in the palm of your hand with a thoughtful gesture.

“Look, Donna, Shakespeare would be proud: To be a doll, or not to be a doll, that’s the question,” you said in a somber tone.

Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

Another day could seem like just one part of a closed circle, of a journey that started over every day. It wasn't, and besides, you were a fervent lover of tedious routine.

For two years your life had stopped being a mix of hard work and unfair business. Like the rest of the villagers, you were nothing but another piece in the macabre chess game of Mother Miranda and the Black Gods.

Macabre, perhaps, but also peaceful.

Work, pray, rest, three essential actions to consider yourself a normal girl, with normal aspirations. But no, you weren't a normal girl at all.

Unintentionally, by one of those coincidences that are mentioned in books, you ended up attracting the attention of one of the Lords, a woman who lived hidden in a valley of mist: the doll maker and disturbing ventriloquist, Donna Beneviento.

Falling in love with her wasn't complicated, finding tenderness and affection within a dark and complexed envelope may have been a little more so. A deformity, a change, things that haunted poor Donna in her nightmares, but, as if for her you were also an opportune coincidence, you managed to navigate through those dangerous waters, dominating the waves of her madness, finding calm in her tormented soul.

When verbal love stopped being enough for her, and she proposed you to go a step further, becoming her wife, joining her in marriage, all her fears seemed to disappear, her fear of losing you faded, becoming only small attacks of jealousy and increasingly less frequent nervous breakdowns.

Definitely losing your boring last name, becoming Mrs. Beneviento, was the best decision of your life, without a doubt.

“Hey! What do you think you're doing? Don't play with my head!” a shrill voice almost made you drop that porcelain to the floor. Donna looked at you amused, of course, it had been her.

“Oh, don't do that,” you said, putting your head back in place while she laughed amused by your reaction. “It's so scary.”

“Are you scared of a porcelain head?” she asked, distracted by a piece of fabric that looked more and more like a dress. “I thought you were braver, tesoro.”

“Ugh,” you protested, shaking your head and crossing your arms.

“Bring me that arm, please,” Donna asked you in a soft voice, with a more serious, concentrated expression.

“Igor, bring me the brain,” you exclaimed ironically. Donna sighed, looking at you with a knowing smile. “Sorry.”

“I see you're in a very good mood today, (Y/N),” the lady commented, with the porcelain arm already ready to become part of another one of those sinister dolls.

You shrugged, watching her work, something that always seemed curious to you.

“I'm always in a good mood,” you sighed, settling into the chair, awkwardly watching the brunette's work. Donna soon turned around to steal a kiss from your lips, that kind of unexpected kisses you loved.

“Mm,” she murmured disinterestedly, shaping that new doll, apparently not very bothered by your exaggerated looks.

You raised your eyebrows amused, and moved a little closer, putting your lips to her ear.

“Hey, Donna, do you know what day it is today?” you whispered seductively, interrupting your wife's work again, who sighed thoughtfully.

“Friday,” she said with a cold voice, trying to concentrate despite your annoying presence.

“Erotic Friday,” you said amused, blinking flirtatiously, running a hand over her black dress, up her leg.

“Erotic Friday?” Donna asked confused, not moving away from your touch, so you smiled wickedly. “For you every day is…”she said with a murmur, stopping talking when your hand went up a little more, getting closer to its target.

You smiled at her reaction, seeing that despite your shameless touch, she intended to continue working, something you couldn't allow.

“If you want, I'll leave,” you said amused, lovingly caressing the bulge between her legs, causing a nervous gasp from the doll maker.

“No, um… Stay,” she said, visibly nervous by your touch, by how her weak body reacted to your lustful caresses.

“I assumed so,” you sighed satisfied, noticing how her incipient erection was becoming more and more noticeable in your hand, which grabbed it through the fabric of her dress.

Donna shifted uncomfortably, but made no effort to stop you from continuing.

“(Y/N),” the lady in black protested amused, unable to focus any longer as your hand caressed her harder.

Your gaze turned dark, moving a little closer, kissing her neck and biting your lip.

“Why don’t you take a break?” you asked seductively, placing your lips on her cheek, moving your hand up and down to continue stimulating her.

“I… Um…” she stammered nervously, giving you more room, looking embarrassed at what your touch had caused. “I, I have to finish this doll, (Y/N), it’s almost time to eat.”

“Are you hungry?” you asked with a mischievous smile, freeing her imprisoned shaft from its prison, hugging it with your hand, which began to move up and down slowly, just as you knew she liked.

“Yes, no, I don't know,” she stammered, closing her eye at your soft caresses, leaving that sinister half-made doll on the table, letting herself go. “Is it a trick question?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head in an exaggerated way, increasing the intensity of your movements. “Does it seem like a trap to you?”

“With you…” she said, interrupted by an involuntary moan, shuddering when your hand stopped at the tip, squeezing it gently. “…It's always a trap.”

“So? Did you bite the bait?” you asked, biting her earlobe, earning another pleasurable moan as she nodded, joining her hand to yours for you to continue.

“What do you think?” Donna asked, moving your hand slowly, burying her head in your neck, surrendering to the pleasure that just your touch gave her.

“Yes, you are hungry,” you joked, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, forgetting about your hand and climbing on top of her, changing that stimulation for a lascivious game of your hips.

She grabbed them firmly, continuing with that seductive dance, with a friction that caused her to say dirty words you didn't understand, flooding your senses.

“Così bagnata…” she whispered in your ear, when her hands slipped into your dress, caressing your incipient moisture through your underwear.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, amore mio,” you joked, moving the fabric to one side to place yourself on top of her, lowering little by little, letting your body slowly get used to the intruder, enjoying that stretch, those movements of your walls.

“(Y/N),” the lady in black moaned, when her shaft entered you completely and you began to move, letting it slide effortlessly as you hung from her neck.

“Shh,” you whispered amused, suppressing a high-pitched moan, playing with your hips to get those expressions you liked that much, those erratic movements that told you Donna was enjoying it.

The moans of both of you seemed to disturb even those inert limbs hanging in the ceiling. Your movements were calm, but carefully studied. It might seem like you were in a hurry, and so, you were. Donna had already run away from your advances that very morning, now she wasn't going to escape you.

“Like that, honey? Do you want me to go faster?” you asked, stopping with her completely inside of you, moaning at the lack of movement.

“Just... Don’t, don't stop,” she murmured, moving you with her hands, making the stimulation of your walls on her erection to continue.

Your release came perhaps too soon, something that was inevitable due to the pleasure you felt, a pleasure heightened by not being in bed, by wearing clothes, by that act of improvised lust.

“Donna…” you sighed, relaxing your body as she took over your movements, unable to do or say anything but moan. “Listen to me, darling.”

“Mm?” she murmured confused, relaxing her grip on your hips, slowing down the pace a bit due to your a little more serious than usual expression.

“I want, I want you to do it inside of me,” you whispered, thus expressing a desire you had been having for some time, something new that you wanted to feel. She looked at you, controlling the pleasure she felt and, after a reflective moment, she nodded, resuming the harmonious rhythm of your movements.

Soon, with a higher, guttural moan, she fulfilled your wish, releasing herself inside of you, caressing your insides with her wet heat, relaxing her body, resting her head on your shoulder as you caressed her, biting your lip because of that overwhelming sensation.

“(Y/N)…” she moaned, sighing, trying to catch her breath, to recover from your merciless attack. “It, it was…”

“I know, Donna, wonderful,” you said in a tender voice, kissing her lips, exchanging grateful smiles.

Some time after that little encounter, things started to get strange. Your body weakened, your mind was a constant delirium of joy and sadness, your stomach was a useless container that expelled everything that entered.

You felt so sick that even, after Donna's insistence, you agreed to let Mother Miranda take a look at you.

“Am I going to die?” you said lying on a sofa, while the priestess studied some tests, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“(Y/N), don’t, don't say those things...”Donna protested, with a sad, worried look. Of course, it seemed that she was the sick one. She suffered almost more than you, just to see you in that condition.

“No, you're not going to die,” Miranda commented, with apparent disinterest, checking the results over and over again. “Tell me, (Y/N), have you had any changes in your menstruation?”

“What?” you asked, shaking your head. “Well, if by change you mean that I haven't had it...”

“Haven’t you? I assumed so,” the witch said sighing, looking at Donna with a confused smile. “Could you tell me how long it's been?”

“Um... No, I don't know...” you said trying to remember. “I suppose that being sick has changed the cycle.”

“Let me clarify your ideas,” Miranda said, walking beside you and putting a hand on your leg. “Eight weeks.”

“That's very precise, Mother Miranda,” Donna commented, also confused, gently grabbing your hand. “Please tell us what's going on.”

“Too precise,” you said frowning, with the nervousness beginning to run through your limbs.

“Of course it is,” the witch laughed, with a sinister smile. “That's how long you've been pregnant, dear, congratulations…”

You opened your eyes in surprise, not finding an expression or adequate words for such exciting news.

“Pregnant?” the lady in black asked, looking at you curiously. “Is, is that true?”

“Of course,” Miranda said, examining you more closely.

“Oh, Gods…” you sighed excitedly, looking at Donna with tears in your eyes. “Donna, a baby.”

“(Y/N),” she sighed, with the same emotion, with her bright eye, bending down to rest her forehead against yours, squeezing your hand tightly. “It's wonderful…”

“Yes, yes, it is,” you said, nodding, crying with emotion. “A baby…”

“So, sono così felice…” the brunette murmured also unable to control her tears.

“I see that it's good news,” Miranda commented, with an arched eyebrow, unfazed by your emotion, as expected.

“Yes,” you said, between sobs, while Donna covered you with kisses. “The best news…”

Time passed faster than you would like. This new member of the family was growing in your belly, making the most basic tasks more and more complicated for you.

Luckily, Donna was always by your side, making your pregnancy as easy as possible. On the other hand, Angie, Donna's irreverent doll, was there to drive you crazy. You couldn't blame her, she was excited too. She would finally have a faithful henchman to cause chaos with.

“Does it relieve you, tesoro?” the brunette asked, giving you a gentle massage on your shoulders, helping your body relax from having to bear an extra burden. You moaned in relief and sighed, caressing your already swollen belly.

“Do you know what relieves me?” you asked in a soft voice, letting yourself be carried away by her soft caresses, by the delicate touch of her hands. “Having a wife as attentive as you.”

“It's the least I can do,” she said, with a shy laugh, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Hi,” Angie said, interrupting, as usual, one of so many tender moments.

“Oh, no…” you sighed, closing your eyes, fearing another of the constant mockery and approaches of the doll.

“Angie, lasciala stare…” Donna said, looking sternly at the puppet.

“Hey, hey, hey!” the puppet shrieked, with her arms raised in a sign of surrender. “I come in peace.”

“Don't… Yell… For Gods’ sake…” you complained, rubbing your eyes to endure better that squeaky voice.

“Can I touch it? I want to touch the baby,” Angie asked you, climbing onto the couch. Donna growled angrily, shaking her head.

“Angie, go away, leave us alone,” she said in a serious tone, tired of Angie being your only bother all this time. You, who saw no ill intent in the little demon, took Donna's hand, kissing the back of it with a calm smile.

“It's okay, honey, let her do it,” you whispered, extending a hand that the puppet gratefully took. “Isn't it adorable?”

The lady in black sighed, but reluctantly accepted, watching as her doll placed her hand on your belly next to yours.

“Wow, it's moving,” Angie said, surprisingly calm.

You, noticing those same movements, gasped excitedly, quickly looking for the brunette's hand, guiding it to the same place.

“Donna, look...” you said excitedly, noticing a soft kick on your belly, its first kick.

“(Y/N)...” the lady sighed, with the same expression, with her hand shaking as she noticed how her baby moved, how it made its presence known in such an adorable way.

“I think it says… Hi mom…” you said in a sweet voice, caressing her hand with yours, pressing it gently on your belly.

After that moment, many others came, many signs that this baby was growing healthy, and would continue to do so.

After a few hours of pain, contractions and agonizing screams from you in that old laboratory, the baby was finally born, a beautiful black-haired girl, Antonella Beneviento.

To tell the truth, you weren't particularly excited about the name Donna suggested, but you couldn't help but grant her that privilege, without her, nothing would have been possible. You owed her that for all her care, for always being with you.

“How is that precious thing?” the Duke asked, on one of his visits to the estate, greeting your daughter, now one year old, while you held her in your arms.

Little Antonella squirmed in your arms, hiding from the fat man by burying her head in your chest. You laughed amused.

“She's shy,” you said, cradling the little girl while you brought the merchant his usual bag of coins.

“I see... Like her mother, then,” the man said, laughing amused, taking a small toy out of the carriage. “I suppose such a shy girl wouldn't want this gift from her uncle Duke, right?”

“Uncle? Don't make me laugh,” you joked, shaking your head. The little girl turned around, losing her fear and reaching out her small hand towards that little teddy bear. “She already has enough strange uncles... Do you want it, darling? Let's see...”

Sighing, you carefully placed your daughter on the ground, holding her hands and walking slowly towards the merchant.

“She's learning to walk,” you commented when the little girl picked up the small bear, making a baby sound that you thought was adorable. “Do you like it? The Duke is so nice, huh?”

“She definitely looks just like her mother,” the merchant commented, quickly stroking the little girl's black hair. Antonella turned around, puzzled by this strange man.

“I know, I know, that's what everyone says,” you said, picking the little girl up in your arms again, looking at her unmistakable features. “She’s just a clone of Donna.”

“Well... Not quite...” the Duke whispered, pointing at the little Beneviento. “Look, her cheeks are yours...”

“Cheeks? Okay, whatever,” you said, shaking your head. “How much is the bear going to cost me?”

“Nothing, Mrs. Beneviento…” the man sighed, breathing heavily. “It's a gift from the house.”

“Oh, how thoughtful after ripping us off for years…” you joked, waving your hand in farewell. “See you.”

“Anyway…” you sighed, looking at your daughter, who seemed more than satisfied with her new plush, even though she already had an entire army of dolls made by her mother in her room. “Let's go see mommy, huh? Should we surprise her?”

The girl stammered something incomprehensible, with a smile that further evidenced her resemblance to the lady in black. You frowned, running a hand through her hair.

“Cheeks…” you whispered, shaking your head as you walked to the elevator.

Slowly, singing happy songs to the little girl, you went down to the basement, a place that little Antonella didn't particularly like. Something had to be done about all that darkness…

“Donna, look who's come to see you...” you sang, opening the doors of the workshop.

The lady in black, focused as always on her dolls, left a paintbrush on the table, turning around with that same smile as your daughter.

“Ciao, tesoro...” she whispered in a tender voice. “Have you come to see me?”

“Yes,” you said, moving the girl to the floor. “Come on, honey, show mommy what you can do.”

Slowly, releasing the girl's hands, she walked unsteadily towards the brunette, who was waiting for her with open arms.

“Did you see, Donna?” you said excitedly when the girl fell into her mother's arms, who lifted her off the floor with tender laughter.

“Good, my love… You can walk,” she whispered, lovingly moving the little girl in her arms and sitting her on her lap.

“Will she bother you?” you asked, resting a hand on her shoulder, while Antonella investigated the work table curiously.

“Not at all,” she said, kissing her daughter's head while cradling her with her legs.

“Fine…” you sighed in relief for being able to have a moment to yourself, thanks to Donna, as always. “Then I'll leave you two here and I… I think I'm going to take a bath.”

“Okay, tesoro” Donna whispered, concentrating on her dolls while the little girl fiddled with everything she saw.

“Mom, è stanca, mm? Vuoli restare con me?” she asked affectionately. The little girl, now looking at her mother, nodded slowly, stammering something incomprehensible. “Va bene…”

“Okay, well… I’m leaving,” you said amused, quickly kissing the brunette on the lips before leaving the workshop.

Everything was going perfectly. Antonella was a good girl, and the more she grew, the more it was noticeable. It was a shame that Angie always tried to lead her down the wrong path. After another year, you realized that in reality, there was nothing wrong with the doll's attitude, at least for the moment.

“Angie,” the puppet said, playing with the girl on a small rug full of dolls and toys.

Donna and you, who were reading together in a romantic way, looked at each other and then at the doll, frowning, with exactly the same expression.

“Angie, Angie, Angie,” the doll repeated, making the girl look at her confused. “Listen, Antonella, I'm Angie, A, N, G, I, E.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, leaning down to look at the doll, who looked at you sinisterly.

“Silence, Antonella has to listen to me,” the puppet protested, unpleasantly putting her hands on your mouth.

You pulled them away with a growl, looking back at Donna, who was reading again.

“See? Angie, I'm Angie,” she repeated, making you roll your eyes and lean on the brunette's shoulder, who relaxed you with a soft kiss on your head.

“Who am I? The great Angie, the supreme Angie, the wonderful Angie. Aaangie,” the doll hummed, jumping around the girl, who looked at her confused, but amused, trying to reach the puppet.

“What are you up to?” you asked, unable to look away.

“I will be her first word,” the doll said, proud, pointing at herself. “Look Antonella, don't pay attention to that fool, look at me.”

“Of course, of course, because it's much easier to say Angie than mom,” you joked, rubbing your aching temples, sighing tiredly.

“Shut your mouth, stupid,” the doll scolded you. You opened your mouth to return the insult, but you regretted it, crossing your arms.

“Angie…” Donna sighed, closing the book definitively and looking at you a bit worried. “Honey, are you okay?”

“Oh yes…” you said, not very sincerely. “It must be the weather…” you whispered, downplaying it.

You jumped when a dull thud echoed on the wood. The puppet had dropped, leaving little Antonella open-mouthed.

“Look, look, I'm clumsy Angie, repeat after me, Angie fell down,” the puppet sang, followed by soft and tender laughter from the little girl. Well, at least Angie made her laugh, always.

“Okay, Great Angie, it's bath time,” you said ironically, sighing as you stood up, you were a little dizzy.

“No, no, um…” Donna interrupted, pulling you back to sit down. “I'll bathe her, you should try to rest.”

“You're too kind…” you sighed, kissing the brunette's hand, who gave you one of her beautiful smiles before bending down to pick up her daughter.

“A bath, how lucky!” Angie shrieked, making you groan and sob at the same time. “Aren't you saying goodbye to me? Say: goodbye Angie…”

The little girl, tenderly hugging her mother, moved her hand with a charming smile. As Donna turned to take her to the girl’s daily bath, something interrupted her.

“A, A…” your daughter stammered, causing Donna to look at her curiously while Antonella pointed at the doll with her finger, with an expression of effort. “An, An…”

“It can't be possible,” you said, open-mouthed, shaking your head.

“Angie,” the little girl said, with a shaky but clear voice. “Angie,” she repeated laughing, pointing at the doll and looking for her mother's approval, who nodded with an expression of surprise.

“Yes! I did it! Suck that, silly!” the doll scolded, jumping for joy at her sinister feat.

“Great,” you murmured, unable to help but smile at your daughter's first word, one she would never get tired of repeating.

Antonella's third birthday marked a special date in your life. After continuing with those dizzinesses, those sensations that you already knew, you were out of doubt. But you still didn't want to tell it to Donna, you had to wait for little Beneviento to give you some time alone, something complicated.

“That's it, my princess... Now go to sleep...” you said while you tucked the little girl in, who, as always, was accompanied by her particular night guardian, Angie.

“Mom,” she stammered, with pleading eyes, rubbing them with her hands after a day of incessant running and playing with Angie. “I want story.”

“Oh, do you want a story?” you asked amused, sitting on the bed. Donna laughed behind you, leaning against the wall.

“Your stories stink, you cheesy fool,” Angie murmured, pushing you out of bed.

“Angie...” you growled, closing your eyes, too exhausted to argue with the doll.

“Mamma, storia,” the girl said now looking at the lady in black, who had approached to make peace between the doll and you.

“Oh, okay, huh? Very nice of you,” you said jokingly, shaking your head. “Well, come on, mamma, tell a story for the princess.”

“Mom, I love you,” the girl murmured, with an amused expression that you couldn't resist.

“Yes, yes, now fix it with sweet words... You're just like your mother,” you said amused, tickling your daughter. “Anyway, Donna, I think it's your turn...”

Your wife took your place in bed, telling your daughter one of the many stories that you couldn't understand, but that certainly sounded much better than yours. After a while, the girl fell asleep and the two of you slowly left the room.

“She's a sweetheart,” the lady said, with an excited smile. No matter what Antonella did or said, for Donna would always be something unforgettable.

“That's because you're a sweetheart, Donna,” you whispered romantically, kissing the woman in black slowly, sighing, knowing that, unintentionally, you had found the perfect moment.

“What's wrong? I see you're pensive,” she murmured, cupping your face in her hands. In truth, she had been worried about you for too long, and you didn't want jealousy or another of her insecurities to haunt you again.

“Yes, well, it's just that... I have, I have something to tell you,” you said nervously, playing with the buttons of her dress.

“Okay,” she said, with a slightly fake, expectant laugh.

“We... We haven't put the crib away yet, right?” you asked smiling. She shook her head, frowning.

“N, no,” she answered in a cold, trembling voice.

“Good, because, because I think we're going to need it again...” you said, with a smile growing wider on your face, and on hers. “Donna, I’m pregnant.”

[prof-ramses]

Dissecting the LN3 Friendship Trailer

I'm so hyped to finally have news on this game, you guys have no idea!!! That being said, let's turn the new trailer inside out to see what we can figure out.

To me this looks like the very end of the Necropolis as Low and Alone move into the second chapter which...

Judging by the greenish hue of where they end up, would be the Factory.

It also seems that the later parts of the Necropolis are going to be more of a stormy grey, which actually looks quit nice.

We see two separate furnace shots, one with a nome. If I had to guess these would be in the Factory or another area, which we'll get to later.

Here's all the confirmed Factory footage, including a better glimpse at the many-armed monster in the area, we can see a rolled up blue sleeve. The last image comes from the official LN3 website, and it seems it's either making candy statues/creatures, or grinding it's staff into the candy. I'm honestly not sure which would be wilder.

We get some good looks at the Carnival, and our first potential glimpse of the Ventriloquist. The thing of his desk looks like a walky-talky, which makes me think the Dummy also has one and will use it to

I'm putting these together because they don't seem to fir into any other area. I think this is from the same chapter as the one some people suspect will be set in The Maw, but at this point it looks more like some... bunker/clocktower/planetarium, I'm not sure.

Either way it's very interesting.

This last shot looks like it could take place at the very start of the Carnival chapter, but I'm not positive.

@queen0fm0nsterz, thoughts on some of these ideas? I'd really appreciate any feedback from my preferred LN expert.

[bettyfrommars]

poltergeist!Eddie x Reader

welcome back to The Nightmare Factory

Masterlist

This is part of a collection of blurbs about Eddie only being able to communicate with you through your nightmares. This time, he uses his newly acquired skills to avenge you. wc:961

A/N: I've been having so much fun with this, and I always love getting ideas and feedback from you all. I have a feeling these blurbs will start to get longer as the story progresses, and we finally get to know the man behind the nightmares.

18+ONLY, mature content, harassment, poltergeist activity, nightmares

--------

When Eddie found out that one of your coworkers was harassing you and made you cry, he couldn’t let it go.  

The night he found out, he was on his way to haunt someone else’s dreams, hovering as a shadow person in the corner, and there you were— on the phone telling one of your friends about what had happened.  You weren’t returning the sexual advances of the guy at your office, and so he proceeded to tease you and spread rumors about you, and your boss wouldn't do anything about it.  

Eddie came to the Nightmare Factory on his day off to beg his supervisor Kevin—the ventriloquist doll in a sailor suit—for some overtime, and he got it.

Armed with his new and invisible job title, Eddie took his time to get to know the lay of the land in your office.  The co-worker in question—he discovered his name was Jared—worked three cubicles down from you.  Eddie found you hunched over at your desk, with your head in your hands.  You needed to go to the bathroom, but you didn’t want to walk in that direction because you knew Jared would say something snide to you or throw a balled-up piece of paper at your face and then laugh hysterically.  

When you finally did get the nerve to rush to where the restrooms were, Eddie knocked Jared’s full cup of coffee over so it slipped all over his keyboard.  Eddie chuckled to himself as he put his hands in his pockets and watched the guy scramble to clean it up.  

Later that night, Eddie followed Jared home; he would’ve rather been spending time with you, but this was a worthy sacrifice.  The guy lived alone, which Eddie was thankful for, but other people being in the house would not have stopped him from doing what he needed to do.

He was patient; he waited in the walls for Jared to change out of his work clothes and relax.  

Eddie started simple.  When Jared returned to the kitchen area, Eddie blew the candle out that Jared lit.

And then he blew it out again

And again

And again

Until Jared used up the last of his matches in the box and threw the empty container in frustration. In a huff, he went over to turn the tv on, but it snapped to static and then returned to black, as if it had been unplugged.

“What the fuck?” Jared hissed.  There was a tv tray there next to his recliner and he knocked it over in his frustration.

The overhead lights flickered, and then the three ceiling bulbs popped in the kitchen and everything went dark.

“Son of a bitch,” Jared grumbled, pawing around in the dark for the light switch.

“What did you call me?” Eddie said in his ear.

Jared screamed and jumped back, arms flailing, tripping over himself until his back hit the wall.  

Jared’s adrenaline surged in the deafening silence as he tried to see around him in the dark, body frozen against the wall.

After a good minute, Jared dropped his shoulders, took a deep breath, and convinced himself that it was just a power outage, and his imagination was running away with him.

Across the room, the candle lit itself, offering a flicker of light in the darkness.

And then it flew across the kitchen counter, caught air, and the glass canister shattered against the wall.

Jared’s cry was bloodcurdling as he bolted for the front door, slipping on the throw rug, losing his balance, but then he had to stop short because Eddie propelled a kitchen chair along the linoleum to crash in front of him.

Choking back tears, Jared sprang in the other direction, down the hall to his bedroom and spun around to shut the door as fast as he could, locking it with a click.  

He leaned against the door, breathless, anticipating footsteps in the hall.

“Boo,” Eddie hissed in his ear.

Jared whisked his arms around as if trying to fight off a bug, hysterical, and charged ahead for his final line of defense which was to lock himself in the bathroom.

He flicked the light on immediately, pushing the lock in on the doorknob.  “What the hell do you want from me?” Jared asked through the door.  

That was when the mirror on the medicine cabinet fogged up as if someone blew hot breath on it.  Slowly, with a squeak of a finger on glass, an invisible hand spelled out three words, telling Jared to leave you alone.  

Jared sank to the ground sobbing, just before Eddie broke the mirror with his fist and it crashed to the sink.

—------

You were having so much anxiety about going back to work, you had to take a sleeping pill that night.

Eddie came by on his way back from Jared’s and hovered at your ear while you slept.  “I took care of it,” he whispered.  “You don’t have to worry about that guy anymore.”

His shift was over a while ago, and he could see the monster under your bed giving him a shrug like, “what are you doing here, buddy? This one is mine tonight.”

Eddie didn’t like how other workers from the factory got to spend time with you, and that was a problem he would work on solving in the near future.  

As it turns out, you had the best sleep of your life. 

You cringed when the elevator dinged open the next day at your job, waiting to see Jared there, making fun of your outfit or the way you looked—but he never showed up to work that day.  

You found out later on that he quit.

No one heard from Jared ever again. 

[anthurak]

Hey, so for anyone who grew up with or just watched the 4kids Yugioh dub, do you remember that time in Duelist Kingdom when Yugi dueled the supposed ghost of the supposedly dead Kaiba? You know, that episode with all the talk of the practically phantasmal probability of Yugi’s victory?

And then when ‘Kaiba’ unmasked himself as this creepy clown looking guy, you know he revealed that he was essentially the personification/manifestation of the darkness of Kaiba’s soul that Yugi banished to the Shadow Realm with a mind crush at the end of their duel in the first episode. Only to have been freed from the Shadow Realm by Pegasus and sent to defeat Yugi?

Thus actually making this guy a genuine shadow/evil-counterpart to Kaiba that Yugi has to defeat in a twisted repeat of their first duel, and Yugi effectively cleaning up unfinished business when he defeats this shadow doppelganger of Kaiba and banishes him permanently this time.

As well as presenting a pretty good example and exploration of the strange, occult mysticism at work in this setting and the kind of power that both Pegasus and Yugi possess through their Millennium Items. It turns out that Yugi really did banish this dark piece of Kaiba’s very soul to this mysterious ‘Shadow Realm’, and that Pegasus was able to actually retrieve this piece of Kaiba’s soul, give it a body and make it his minion. And that Yugi is powerful enough to then PERMANANTLY banish this specter back to the shadows, never to be free again. Or, depending on your interpretation of the wording, Yugi’s mind crush may have just outright DESTROYED this piece of Kaiba’s soul for good.

An act which is certainly reinforced by the following ultimatum Yugi delivers to Pegasus, a statement delivered magically/telepathically over the video-screen that Pegasus is watching, something that even echoes what PEGASUS did to Yugi in their first duel, with Yugi wreathed in an aura of mystical power that ends with Yugi shattering the glass in Pegasus’s hand.

So that’s the dub version…

…And then you find out that in the original Japanese dub, the Kaiba doppelganger was… just a random evil, creepy clown working for Pegasus who was really good at disguising and impersonating people and decided to pretend to be a dead Kaiba to mess with Yugi.

For some reason.

As sacrilegious as it may sound, I feel pretty comfortable in saying that the English dub did actually make a few GOOD changes.

And yes, I know that in the manga, it was a ventriloquist with a Kaiba dummy who claimed that Kaiba's soul was in the dummy but was really just bullshitting. Which frankly I consider only MARGINALLY better than 'random evil clown disguised as Kaiba', simply because we get to see Yami go all Season-Zero on him with a sick penalty game.

[taintedcigs]

modern!eddie popular culture hcs:

he would LOVE the scream movies. dressing up as ghost face is his hobby. he kinda loves scaring ppl randomly. and loves the way you get squirmy when he talks to you in a deep voice behind the mask.

he would be the biggest saw, wrong turn, evil dead fan. has billy the puppet in his room. whenever he's writing songs he talks to billy and sings to him. the first time you went into his room he did a little ventriloquist show for you. but immediately covered it up once u said it was scary. (apologized to billy and gave him a kiss while doing it LMAO)

he loves rob zombie, house of 1000 corpses is one of his fav horror movies and firefly is his one of his fav trilogies, (hates the halloween movies he made, sorry rob) and loves rob's music. (i just know he vibes to pussy liquor.)

he hates requel movies and probably elevated horror. he just wants some good scares and some gore. (and he makes u watch a lot of stupid movies for this reason)

he hated nu metal at first, but it grew on him quickly!! ofc he listens to deftones!!! flyleaf, korn, limp bizkit, rage against the machine, and sevendust.

he didn't care for mcr at first. but once he found out about the storylines of the albums he was HOOKED. he told u all about the stories like it was a bedtime story and he keeps posting his theories on reddit.

he used to be a LOT more strict about what he listened and had an idea of "real metal" but now he listens to whatever. enjoys some fob and paramore at the end of the day.

he's obsessed with game of thrones. read the books before the show came out. probably criticized the show for being so different but he still loved it. (probably annoying to watch it with him bc he's the type of person to be like "THIS ISN'T WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BOOKS!! in the books daenerys breathed differently!!" but u love him so its super adorable!!!) he created a 98 page rant about the show's ending. loves daenerys (this is kinda self-indulgent), and DEF fantasizes about doing a got roleplay with you!!! kinky lil shit <33

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

Yandere! Slappy the Living Dummy Headcanons

Fandom: Goosebumps.

No Spoilers.

Character Version: Book!Slappy

_________________________________

Ambiguous yan - can be read as platonic or romantic.

_________________________________

Content Warning: Manipulation, isolation, possessive behaviour, kinda stalking?

(If there’s anything else I need to add please let me know).

Big apologies to anyone who is scrolling through the goosebumps tag and managed to come across this... I am cringe as hell, but I am free!

_________________________________

- Before we begin, let’s get a quick rundown on Slappy:

- He’s an evil, manipulative, and sadistic ventriloquist dummy, who’s near-impossible to defeat in the long term.

- So basically, an entity you’d never want to be obsessed with you.

- Let’s go with the typical Goosebumps narrative: you found him lying around, asleep, and (for some damn reason) you decided to bring him home!

- You pick the sheet of paper out of his pocket and read the words inscribed.

- “Karru Marri Odonna Loma Molonu Karrano”

- As the days pass by, strange things begin to happen around your home.

- It starts off small; things being out of place, items disappearing and reappearing, the sound of footsteps echoing through the house in the dead of night when you’re sure that nobody else is awake.

- And, even more strangely, that ventriloquist dummy you found keeps appearing on your bed: sitting beside your pillow and staring down at you. Creepy.

- At this stage, Slappy observes your daily life. He doesn’t make his sentience known just yet.

- He sees your routine, your hobbies, your family, and your friends…

- It’s those last two that really grind his gears.

- Slappy sees you and your loved ones. He sees you doing nice things for them: giving them gifts, doing favours, or offering to help them with tasks.

- His little wooden mind misinterprets this as you serving them. An odd leap to make, until you account his strange fixation on making people his ‘slaves’. In his head, that’s what you must be doing, that’s the only thing you could be doing, right?

- And so, Slappy starts getting antsy. Why are you serving those useless fleshbags when you should be serving him? He’s the only person (or dummy in this case) that you should be focusing on.

- Here is when his interruptions of your daily life start to become more extreme.

- He openly tries to get your attention. This is achieved by causing as many problems and messes as his 3-foot-something form allows. At this point he may reveal that he’s alive.

- Alongside this, he’ll start pushing away your friends and family.

- A few cruel pranks, a handful of exposed secrets, and a couple of damaged items is all it takes for him to leave you completely alone.

- Except for him of course.

- And, with no one else to turn to, you’ll finally give into his demands; willing to be his loyal servant for the rest of your life.

- At least, that’s what he hopes, what he imagines, as his glassy eyes stare unblinkingly.

- Staring down at your sleeping face, once again. Night after night.

- Until there's nothing left for you, but him.

[homestuckreplay]

turntechGnostic? gardenGodhead?

(page 381-387)

Dave is a cool guy, yknow? A cool dude whose default face is complete neutrality, who doesn't show emotions besides anger, the only acceptable feeling for men. If he's feeling something positive, he'll show it with a nod of the head or a twinkle of the sunglasses, not-

HEY. WHAT'S THAT SMILE ON YOUR FACE, COOL GUY????

What's fun about meeting Dave is that we get to see him talk to all three of his friends in pretty quick succession, while with John it was far more spaced out. Dave loves John so much but I think he kind of talks down to him, and with Rose, it's the witty banter of equals. With GG, Dave is the one who seems lost in the conversation. GG throws Dave for a loop multiple times, and also blatantly makes fun of him with 'bro! hehehe' and 'feeling cool today? mr cool guy?' I didn't expect Dave to like this, and it's not obvious in the conversation that he does, but that tiny smile kinda says it all. I can honestly see these two becoming my favorite dynamic of the four main characters.

We get more GG lore too! They have a 'goofy' fetch modus which I'm super curious about. It turns out they have a granddad who's a big presence in their life, not a sister. They also have a pet who TG refers to as a 'devilbeast', and who is hard to feed and can overpower GG. Could be an unruly, badly trained dog, or perhaps GG lives on a farm and this is some kind of farm animal? Or an exotic pet their grandad attempted to tame (since he's apparently a 'total badass') but who shouldn't really be kept as a pet.

Also GG might have some psychic powers, or at least believe that they do. Which definitely puts their earlier conversations with John in a new light - instead of urging him to get the package now because they're excited to see his reaction, which is what I originally assumed, they're just emphasizing how important the package is, so that he'll know opening it is a priority if and when he finds it later.

The TG lore we get is.... less delightful. He mends his window with gaffa tape, which makes it objectively less functional as a window, definitely can't help with the heat, and doesn't even cover up the full hole. Like, just put a poster over it. More effective for less effort. Also his 'takedown' of monster movie tropes on p.386 is identical to 'guy who hates musicals because people sing in them' and is just exhausting to read. Also he thinks a white puppet ventriloquist rapper is the coolest shit ever, which is inexcusable. Basically, he needs to hang out with GG more so that they can chill him out and make him more tolerable.

I missed John so much. I've been thinking for a couple days about how I miss John, and here he is! The oil in his room has gotten significantly worse compared to p.253, which is a shame, because John is a fairly neat and clean kid when his sylladex isn't totally ruining his life.

But I guess this little harlequin beastie doesn't care about that? I love this thing's design, it's so fun. It looks so angry but somehow so incapable of causing any real harm that isn't oil based. What a silly hat for something that wants to be intimidating so bad. This will probably confirm to John once and for all that clowns are bad.

We've seen a couple other jet black, #000000 creatures so far. The Wayward Vagabond, linked from p.271, has smaller and rounder eyes but the same clawed hands. And the members of the Midnight Crew, seen on p.328-331, are visibly shinier (including their clothes?) with no visible teeth, but the rightmost two have those same elongated horizontal white eyes. Notably, all of these characters wear distinctive headgear. They all have really different roles in the story, so this could just be a shorthand for characters outside of the main four and their families, but it would be cool if some or all of them were connected.

[fearandhatred]

Good omens, “feather”, for the writing ask meme! -goodoldfashionednightingale

bestie!!! thank u for this lovely word, have some post-final fifteen crowley pov angst

our minds don't work like human minds; it's not a fact that's hard for anyone to comprehend. the humans know it too, they write it in their stories. but our minds aren't separate entities from theirs altogether, just… different. for example, our minds can store more information than all mortals in the world combined and then some, both in breadth and depth. we have faster cognitive abilities, recognition that comes faster than the shortest unit of time humanly invented. we can replay memories in our heads as vividly as they happened.

it takes a thousand years to forget.

i'll plead guilty to some of it: even as the years passed, years and then decades, even when the image of your face behind my eyelids started to grow spots of mould and permanent sunlight—even then, i thought you'd return. it wasn't unlike you to change your mind, not unlike you to come back to me. and so when i finally had the sense that maybe i should be preserving some things of you, all the photos turned to ash under my touch. that was a hundred years in.

i found your feather in a drawer, a month after you left. i don't know why it was there, why you kept it, but a hundred years in, i was grateful. you'd taken the polaroid with you. in memory of me, perhaps. maybe you thought i wouldn't want or need it. or maybe you weren't thinking of what i wanted or needed at all, because two hundred years after you left, you were still gone.

i don't know when exactly it dawned on me that when you said you were leaving, you meant it. every time i try to remember, i remember an earlier time. five hundred years in, two hundred, twenty years, six months, a week. sometimes i think i'd known the moment you said it.

it's a february afternoon, with biting wind and rain that felt like snow, when i finally lose you. it's cold all the time now. the whole street is gone, bare land with not even a shadow where the bookshop used to be. trees don't bloom like they used to, and i've lost you. i'd never paid attention before to how a memory looked in my head; i'd never wanted to keep a memory as pristinely clean and spotless as it was before, until you left. but after all the papers disintegrated in my hands—the photos of you, the drawings of me—i started to take notice.

it wasn't all that dissimilar to how movies looked back then, when we watched them together: the memories started to flicker and pale, black spots like dust flecks in front of projector lights. then they lost all sound and colour, your speech wordless and mouth moving like a mute ventriloquist's puppet. and then they got blurry, smoothened, the lines of your face ironed out until you were featureless.

when i try to think of you now, the film strips jam and shred in the reel, and the screen remains black. all i have now are the words i used to describe you with in my head, ones i no longer remember the truth of—that and this yellowing feather, once a shade of white your wings might have been.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hi I’m such a big fan of your writing 💕and overall so grateful that you write for Donna since I feel she is very underrated especially RE Donna

but I wanted to request ✨ a scenario where Donna and R are having a normal afternoon and R out of nowhere blurts out how they used to do modeling for a little while and Donna get curious so R shows photos of a photoshoot where she wears a little revealing dress and Donna get slightly jealous so R convince Donna she will give her a personal photoshoot and so they do it and it turns into smut

go Donna please 🙏

also if you don’t want to it okay and you can just ignore this request but hope you have a good day ❤️☺️

Yess!! Thank you for your request and for your nice words!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

You can leave your veil on

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 6,440

Summary: Maybe a photo session can make her jealousy disappear...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“Be careful, it's hot,” Donna commented, leaving a steaming cup of tea on the table. You smiled gratefully, nodding as you looked out the window of the old house.

You could have tried to run away, escape from that cursed village, but you didn't. In your work as a photographer you had visited many places, but certainly none like that. A village set back in time, servant and faithful to someone similar to the witches in stories.

But, in reality, you saw no reason to do so. One priestess, four Lords, that was the system by which that place functioned. A castle, a dam, a factory, a house. Of all your options, the house was the best one.

Donna Beneviento, ventriloquist and doll maker, had a series of nightmares prepared for you, to drive you crazy.

You fought against those hallucinations, you screamed, you ran away until it was no longer necessary. No matter how much fear a woman like her could cause in someone like you, it wasn't enough. She was a mysterious, mourning figure that hid her face behind a black veil. The mystery overcame the fear and you stopped living those nightmares, to live in dreams.

Little by little, you got to know that woman, and the more you did, the more you fell in love with her. Compassion, love, you couldn't say why you didn't end up jumping into the void, down that waterfall. Maybe it was that Donna was as lonely as you in this world, maybe she didn't want to kill the last ray of hope of dark and lonely life.

So there you were, you had been on that estate for months and you didn't regret it at all. Her hidden beauty, which you forced her to show you, the changes Mother Miranda caused in her body, everything that gave her a complex was suddenly eclipsed by your kisses, by your words of love, by the whish to leave your boring life behind to join hers.

“Thank you, Donna,” you said kindly, as she sat in front of you, looking at you with that same bewilderment from the first day. An eternity could pass, but Donna would still wonder why you decided to stay, why you loved a sick, dark woman like her.

Her corners turned up as she raised her own cup to her lips. You sighed as you remembered everything that had brought you there, and above all, when you thought about the reasons that made you never want to return home, reasons that sat in front of you like every afternoon, that you hugged every night, reasons that had a first and last name: Donna Beneviento.

“Is it, is it to your liking?” She asked timidly, with the soft and hoarse melody she had for a voice. You smiled even wider, pretending you hadn't comically burned yourself.

“Yes, I... Ugh, it's perfect,” you said, fanning your mouth in a funny way, to which she laughed in a shy and funny way, looking away.

“I told you it was hot,” she murmured, with a knowing whisper, with that so intense look which could even pierce your skin.

“I should learn to listen,” you joked, shaking your head. “That's what they told me at school.”

“Did they tell you that it was hot?” The lady asked, disconcerted. You would always admire that shy innocence.

“No,” you said, laughing, making Donna look at you confused. “They told me that I didn't know how to listen.”

Donna Beneviento was a lonely woman. She had been alone for so many years so human relationships didn’t exist in her own world. At first you were surprised by those curious reactions to simple phrases or expressions, but little by little, you got used to them, finding them adorable in their own way.

“It's funny, they told me the same thing,” she said, with a melancholic smile. You nodded, blowing away the smoke of that burning tea.

“Did they? Because I think there is no one in this world who is capable of listening as well as you,” you said in a soft voice, making your compliments, once again, to get her cheeks blush.

“That's not true,” she said, downplaying that true fact.

After days of nightmares, you had only heard her speak through the Angie doll. It took a lot for Donna to be able to communicate with her own voice, even after your first kiss.

“Well, well, I don't want to contradict you but... Yes it is,” you whispered the last sentence, making the smile light up her face again, hiding it shamefully behind her cup of tea.

There was a small moment of silence, one of hundreds every day. A contemplative moment, in which your photographic eye admired each of her features, her figure. Yes, there was nothing more beautiful for your camera, you were sure.

“Mmm,” you murmured, savoring that delicious artisanal tea that Donna adored you with every day. “It's delicious.”

“Everything I make is delicious according to you,” she whispered, suspicious. Alert, insecurity approaching at high speed.

“Well, yes,” you said with a serious tone, crossing your arms. “Everything.”

Donna smiled again, shaking her head.

“Don’t say those things…. You know it makes me ashamed,” she said with a pink tone on her cheeks, with a mischievous but shy look at the same time.

“What did I say?” You asked amused, leaning your back on the couch.

“You know what you said,” Donna said hurriedly, with her hands trembling because of the shyness and nervousness caused by your seductive gaze. Yes, you said it on purpose.

“I said I like everything you make to me,” you said with an indifferent tone, ignoring that too obvious insinuation. “Why are you ashamed of that?”

“Because I... You know, you mean...” She stammered, further evidencing her nervousness.

“Your food,” you joked, leaving her completely confused and much more embarrassed.

“My food?” Donna asked, blinking profusely, looking with her eye for a place to hide after that sentence.

“Yes, of course, what did you think I was referring to, Donna?” You asked, biting your lip. Maybe you shouldn't play with her that much... But it was quite funny.

“I don't... You know what? I'm going to get more tea,” she said, getting up from the armchair to cowardly flee, as always when the conversation got a bit hotter.

“Uh, uh, honey…” You said hurriedly, standing up and grabbing her wrist tenderly, caressing her soft skin with your thumb. “Come on… Don't be nervous, it was just a joke.”

Donna nodded, letting you grab her waist and pull her into a slow, loving kiss, calming her breathing with it.

“So...” She murmured, with a more relaxed expression, playing with the buttons of your blouse. “You like my food.”

“I love it,” you said amused, stealing another quick kiss from her. “You have to show me how to make it.”

“Sure, of course,” she said, excited by the idea, moving away from you and dragging you back to the tea place.

“Before I met you, the only thing I could make was something prepared in the microwave,” you explained, sitting down again, changing the conversation to an easier and less... Hot one.

She nodded curiously, sipping her tea calmly, as if that little joke had never happened.

“Once, I remember that I had to promote some diet products. I was eating protein bars for a month, I guess that's my level of cooking,” you commented amused, remembering that part of your past. Donna looked at you curiously again, frowning.

“Em... Yes, I...”

“You didn't understand anything I said, did you?” You joked, making her shake her head, scratching the back of her neck.

“Niente”

“Niente,” you repeated, amused. “Well, I worked being a model once, you know, I had to take photos with products, with clothes...”

“Model?” She asked, this time leaning towards you, showing interest in that detail. You nodded, not caring.

“Yes, well, I had to pay for the photography academy somehow,” you explained with that same amused tone, which calmed down when you saw her confused and with an intriguing face. “Once a man from a clothing brand came and well, it is known that he found me attractive enough for the job.”

“A man? What man?” Donna asked abruptly, you couldn't tell if she was curious or annoyed.

“Well, one man...” You whispered, studying her movements. “Bah, it doesn't matter, that's part of my past.”

“It matters, who was that stronzo?” She asked, with a dark and worried tone. You should already know that your past, like lovers and relationships, was a completely forbidden topic in that house.

“Hey, don't worry, Donna, he was just a businessman,” you said, moving your hands to calm her increased, nervous breathing. “It's not a dark thing at all, I promise you. I just let them to take photos with new clothes, or things like that.”

“What things?” She asked, still with distrust in her voice.

“You know what? I better show you, I still have my photo book,” you said, patting your knees and walking towards the room.

Everything that had to do with the modern world aroused a certain curiosity in the lady in black, but also jealousy, a lot of jealousy. You couldn't blame her for being possessive, not after knowing her past. Maybe you thought it was a good idea to show her what you did when you modeled.

“Come, sit here,” you said, indicating the woman to come to your side, while you opened the photo book for the first page.

“It's you,” Donna said, bringing her closer to that photo, a bit provocative one, to be honest.

“Yes, of course, see? I wore clothes that they wanted to promote and they took photos of me, nothing strange,” you said, turning each of the pages slowly, being studied by the lady in black, who couldn't help but smile. “I looked beautiful, huh?”

“So beautiful…” She whispered with a tender smile, running her hand over one of the photos of her. “That dress is interesting. Maybe I can make a similar one for you.”

You nodded curiously, studying her reactions. Everything seemed to be going well, just one more afternoon in which you dedicated yourselves to talking about your past life, to astonish Donna with the world she didn’t know about, and she would never know about, the world you didn't want to return to.

“What is this?” She asked after a few minutes, with her expression changed, showing you a photo that occupied both sides of the book. A photo that even made you blush.

“Oh, well...” You whispered, taking the book and not having an answer that would help her face to relax. “Me, posing, with a dress.”

“That's not a dress, (Y/N), it's more like a long scarf, not even that,” she said angrily, looking at you with an expression that alerted even more jealousy. You had to make an effort to hold back your laughter at the reaction and shook your head.

“No, no, it's a dress, do you see the sleeves?” You said, pointing to a part of the photograph.

“What I'm seeing are your breasts,” Donna responded, without looking at your face, with her eye fixed on that photo, which, yes, was a little too suggestive.

“Oh, they can't be seen at all,” you said, downplaying it. Donna sighed, ignoring your excuses. “They are well covered.”

“I can see them,” she corrected, with a brusque tone. “You say everyone could see these photos?”

“Well, yes,” you said whispering, closing the book and leaving it on the side of the couch, with a shameful smile. “At least during the advertising campaign.”

“The campaign... Let's see if I find out, are you telling me that everyone could see you showing your breasts?” She asked, with an annoyed tone, her chest rising and falling rapidly again.

“Well, not everyone…” You said, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Only those who passed by the bus stop on line 4, those who bought fashion magazines, those who went to a hairdresser, those who…”

“Basta,” she said, having a hard time. Unlike you, who was having a lot of fun because of her absurd jealousy.

“Besides, you can't see my breasts, I've already told you,” you said in your defense, feigning anger and crossing your arms. “I don't understand why it bothers you, Donna. You've seen them too... And I know you love them,” you said in a seductive tone, nudging her, making her head turn towards you abruptly, with that childish anger in her look.

“I'm your girlfriend, (Y/N),” she hissed, revealing what you were to her right at that moment. You hadn't thought about it, but you knew that girlfriend wasn’t enough. She was the woman of your life.

“Oh, I see... You're jealous, huh?” You asked with a funny tone, launching yourself at her body to tickle her, which made her laugh, trying to push you away. “How jealous are you…”

“Stop, (Y/N),” she said, holding your hands so they would stop playing with her dress, diluting that funny moment with jealousy. “I don't understand why you had to do something like that. Showing your body to everyone is...”

“It was a temporary job, nothing serious, Donna,” you said calmer, worrying because her jealousy didn't seem to give in to your cuddling.

“It seems serious to me,” the lady in black protested, trying to calm herself down with your little tricks for anxiety. “I don't even want to think about how many people have seen you and…”

“Hey, come on. It's okay,” you said, wrapping your arms around her and rubbing her body to comfort her, something that usually worked. “That's the past.”

“That's what you say, but I don't even want to think about how many people look at those magazines and... (Y/N), they probably masturbated with that photo,” she said with a serious tone. But the words entered your mind causing you to laugh, a laugh that you couldn't contain.

“Masturbated? Donna… Really?” You said laughing, but with a stab of reality hitting you in the back. Well, she could be right and that was… Disturbing.

“I don't see where the fun is. I'm completely serious,” Donna protested, moving away from you to show how offended she was by your laughter.

“Yes, yes, it's just that... It's a very uncharacteristic statement for you,” you explained, letting her know the reason for your amusement. When Donna was nervous, she might say that kind of things. Well, nervous or terribly excited.

“Why? I used to masturbate before I met you. It’s a natural need” she said, still with that abrupt tone. You had to stop laughing or Donna would get really angry and you didn't want that.

“Oh...” You whispered with a different tone, returning to that tireless seduction that your body was asking for. “I see… And would you have done it by looking at that photo?” You asked in her ear, making her body shiver and the blush return to her cheeks.

“Yes, (Y/N),” she said in a barely audible voice, her fists clenched on her knees. “That's why I don't understand how you could...”

She couldn't continue speaking, because your lips crashed against hers abruptly, kissing her wildly, trying to make her passion blind her jealousy, at least a bit.

“I would love to see you doing that...” You whispered, giving her one last kiss and checking that your actions had an effect, making her smile slightly.

“Um, (Y/N), I...” She stammered, fleeing from the caresses you made on her chest, caresses that distracted her from her anger with unprecedented success. Maybe it had been the sight of your barely covered breasts that made her calm down. That excited you, a lot.

But an idea appeared in your head to interrupt that moment, a much better one, one that would dispel the doll maker's jealousy forever, or so you thought.

“Mm, I have an idea, Donna,” you said thoughtfully, making curiosity return to her face.

“What idea?” She asked, moving nervously on the couch, revealing her excitement, trying to hide it in the black fabric of her dress, a detail that you, of course, didn’t overlook.

“What do you think if you do a photo session for me? One just for you...” You proposed, resting your head in your hand and biting your lip as you saw how she played with her dress to hide her enthusiasm.

“A photo session?” The lady asked curiously, frowning, but interested, of course.

“Uh-huh,” you stated, taking her hand so she would stop playing with the black fabric and you could caress her. “One that only you can look at…”

“Only me...” She sighed with a smile, intertwining your fingers.

She seemed to think about it for a few seconds, but, after that time, she nodded profusely, giving you her approval.

“Wait, I'm going to get the camera,” you said amused, running towards the elevator stopping at the last moment to pick up your old modeling album with an amused expression. “I'll take this, to avoid temptations...” You joked, calming her protest at your inappropriate comment with a kiss on the cheek.

Well, at least you had managed to solve the jealousy problem and the idea sounded quite... Funny in your head, well, also in your head.

“Say cheese,” you said jokingly, shooting a photo towards the couch, catching Donna off guard, almost blinding her with the flash.

“Don't do that, (Y/N)” she protested, rubbing her eye while you laughed in amusement, looking at the result on the small screen.

“Oh, look how pretty you are...” You said, ignoring her complaints and showing her that improvised photo. Her natural expression was truly worthy of one of your favorite works, of course.

Donna leaned in to look at herself, and she stepped back immediately, shaking her head.

“No, I'm horrible,” she said, with that tone that betrayed nervousness, the fierce attack of her complexes again. You caressed her cheek, forcing her to look at you.

“You're beautiful, Donna, the camera doesn't lie,” you said softly, placing your lips on hers.

“But you do,” she said, ignoring your compliment, looking askance at that improvised photo. “I could never be a model like you. Not with my hideous face.”

“Oh, come on, Donna... You know you're beautiful, you know it, I know you know it,” you said, relaxing a bit, wiping away a tear that was slowly running down her cheek.

“I know you don't think that way but... Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eye due to your caresses, resting her hand on yours, squeezing it against her skin. You smiled, kissing her again, not insisting on making her complexes disappear. You had your whole life to get it.

“I have to make some room on the memory card... I took a lot of photos when I arrived at the village,” you commented, ignoring that conversation, which was getting really sad. “Oh, what the…? Angie!”

You shouted to the doll as you flipped through photo after photo, showing the irreverent puppet posing comically in many of them. What a session she had given herself.

“What do you want, stupid stranger?” The doll Asked, running towards you in a graceful and fast manner, climbing into the lap of her owner.

“Have you been playing with the camera?” You asked, ignoring her contempt. You would always be a threat to Donna, Angie would never like you, or so you thought.

“No,” she responded childishly, earning a suspicious look from her owner. You blinked in disbelief, turning the camera towards her.

“What is this?” You asked, going through the photos that the doll had taken one by one, making her laugh with a sinister laugh.

“Mmm, it looks like me,” the doll murmured, making you roll your eyes, with a severe pose, reminding yourself of your parents when you did something wrong.

“Yes, yes... What have I told you about touching my stuff?” You protested, sighing. “You could have broken it.”

-But I haven't... Look, Donna, this photo is great, don't you think? It's me, with me, and with you...” the doll said, ignoring your scolding, pointing to one of the photos that had Angie posing next to the portrait on the stairs.

Donna smiled, looking at you amused. You were incapable of getting as angry as you wanted.

“Wonderful, Angie, you are quite an artist,” you mocked, trying not to laugh to emphasize your annoyance. “Although I have to admit that I'm surprised that you've learned to handle the camera that well,” you said, more to yourself than to her. Angie jumped mockingly, pleased by your admiration.

“It's easy, stupid, you just have to hit that button,” she said, pressing the camera trigger and blinding you with the flash.

“Oh, shit...” You said closing your eyes and listening to the puppet laughing as she cowardly ran away from you. “Damn…”

“Are you okay, tesoro?” Donna asked, with a hand on her mouth that prevented you from seeing she was laughing. Laughing at you, of course.

“Yes, I... Are you laughing at me, Donna?” You asked amused, blinking to eliminate the lights that formed your eyes after that flash.

“No,” she said with the doll's fake tone, something that made you sigh with tenderness.

“Well, well, we'll see if you laugh so much after the photos you're going to take of me...” You sighed, getting up from the couch.

“But, but I don't know how to use that device,” she protested, allowing herself to be dragged towards the elevator.

“If Angie could do it, so can you... Come on, I have a lot of ideas...”

It took you a while, but you finally managed to make an improvised photography set. The place chosen was the doll workshop, one of the bleakest parts of the house, but artistically perfect. All those wooden limbs hanging from the ceiling and its stone walls and floor made it an ideal place for that private session, one that you were eager to begin.

“Just a bit more...” You said, giving instructions to the brunette to move a wooden table, which you would desecrate with your sensual poses “Perfect, leave it there.”

Donna sighed, unable to hide the desire she had for those photos, for that gift for her, just for her.

“Come,” you said, gesturing towards the tripod where you had placed your camera, pointing it at the middle of the room. The lady in black approached slowly, studying that curious device. “Look, Donna, you can see what you are going to photograph through this gap here. Come on, take a look.”

The lady obeyed nervously, looking into the camera and smiling afterwards, letting you know that she understood you.

“Whatever appears here will be seen later on that screen, right?” She asked curious. You nodded.

“Yes, but don't use it as a reference, the light could deceive you. Okay, then you keep the lens centered and put your finger on the button, like this,” you said, taking her hand and gently placing her finger on the button, making the lens move. “You see? You have to press it softly first to get it to focus, otherwise it will be blurry.”

“Oh, it seems complicated,” Donna whispered, checking what was in front of the camera and then above it.

“It's not, trust me. You'll do it great...” You said, patting her on the back and heading towards the suitcase you brought with you, choosing what your first item of clothing was going to be. “If you can’t, I can tell Angie to do it…”

“No,” she said abruptly. “I can do it.”

You nodded with a smile. Naturally, that was the answer you expected.

“Well, then... How about this one to start?” You said, displaying that red and provocative dress that aroused so much jealousy in the brunette.

“(Y/N)...” She hissed, annoyed by your choice.

“You don’t like it? My breasts can be seen with it...” You hummed, waving the garment comically until a shy smile formed on her face as she shook her head.

“Shut up and put it on,” Donna ordered, hiding her embarrassment with the camera while you played with the red fabric, making it look even more provocative.

Your modeling days were still evident in your actions, posing naturally under her attentive gaze, perhaps too attentive. You posed in a much more provocative way, making her hands shake when taking the photographs.

It was funny, very funny, especially when it came to raising a bare leg towards the table, or kneeling on it in a seductive pose, which made Donna have to clear her throat several times to focus.

After that dress, successive combinations of the clothes you brought to the village came: lace bras, negligees, your entire wardrobe being captured by the camera lens, as well as by the eye of Lady Beneviento, who seemed to enjoy that seductive vision, the provocative poses and the increasingly obvious lack of clothes.

“You like them?” The brunette asked after a fun and exciting time. You flipped through the photos and nodded in surprise. They were good, much better than you thought. Luckily, none of them would ever leave that house.

“Sure, it's a good job, Donna,” you said, hugging her waist from behind, making her laugh pleased. “Besides, they are all for you.”

“Yes, that's the best...” she sighed, looking carefully at the places of your naked skin, which you exposed on purpose.

“Wait, the best is yet to come,” you said amused, moving away from her and leaving the workshop.

“(Y/N)? Where are you going?” Donna asked, confused by your sudden escape.

You ran to the bedroom, eagerly looking for that piece of clothing you wanted to use on a crazy idea in your head, an idea that presented itself in the middle of that improvised session.

“Can I use it?” You asked, entering the workshop again and carrying Donna's black veil in your hand, that veil with which she covered her face long ago, and with which she continued to do so with anyone that wasn’t you.

“Um, yes, but... What do you want it for?” She asked confused, watching how you played with the black fabric in your hands.

“Well, I've thought that I would like a couple of photos with it on, if you don't mind, of course,” you explained, looking at that fabric, looking for the correct way to put it on.

“Fi, fine,” the lady in black murmured turning it over, and placing it on your head making you laugh with amusement.

“How can you see anything with this thing?” You joked, reaching out to touch her while you tried to make out something with your eyes. “Donna? Who turned off the light?”

“Stop fooling around and stand there, tesoro,” she said, amused, pushing you towards the table, which you prevented by digging your feet into the floor.

“Wait, wait... I'm not ready,” you whispered in her ear, moving away from her and pulling at the tie that kept one of your dresses stuck to your body. “I want you to take some photos of me with the veil on...”

“Yes, you already said that,” she said, confused, interrupted by a finger between her lips.

“Just with the veil on,” you whispered, slurring your words as the clothing covering you fell to the stone floor, leaving Donna in the same material, looking at you up and down, checking that during your escape to the bedroom, your underwear also disappeared.

“I think you like the idea, don't you?” You whispered again, biting her earlobe and running your hands over her body, caressing the incipient bulge in the black fabric of her dress.

She nodded nervously, closing her eyes at your fleeting touch, one that disappeared at the same time you walked away from her, leaning on the wooden table.

“Come on, move, Donna.  Shoot,” you said seductively, making Donna blink and shake her head, her entire body trembling from the view she had.

Her attitude was much more nervous than before, taking her time with each photograph. You played with your body, opening your legs slightly, moving the fabric away from your face to show how you were biting your lip. It was a vision too erotic for Donna, who could not bear more than a dozen photographs.

“Wait, (Y/N),” she said stuttering, making you laugh and get off the table where you were kneeling, pushing the veil away from your face again.

“I hope you captured these last ones well, Donna, I think they're going to be your favorites,” you joked, continuing with your sensual movements, moving your hips in an exaggerated way as you walked slowly towards her.

“They definitely are,” the lady said, her voice low, moving away from your naked body, only covered in that black cloth.

“Mm, this photo session has warmed me up,” you murmured, removing the veil from your face and playing with it in your hands, surrounding the neck of the brunette with it. Donna was receding more and more. “Where are you going, my love?”

“Um, I...” She stammered, unable to speak clearly, with a marked and suggestive accent as she was dragged by her own veil towards your naked body.

“You're hot too, huh?” You asked on her lips, touching them but without kissing them, taking advantage of that erotic moment that you were not going to lose. “Shall we take a break, Donna?”

She nodded, unable to resist the temptation of kissing you in a hot, wet way, bringing her body closer to yours, making her arousal more than evident, something that made you moan in anticipation.

“I want to take you, (Y/N),” she whispered in your ear, making your entire body tremble in satisfaction from that statement. You smiled and raised an eyebrow, holding her gaze and pulling the black fabric closer.

“Mm yes, it could be a good break,” you said, removing the veil from her neck and walking towards the table, opening your legs again, shiny with excitement, making the humidity between them more than evident, running a finger through your folds under her attentive gaze and slow steps.

“Wait,” she said, approaching, but with something in her eye that made her reveal a hidden intention. “Put it on again, please,” she whispered, taking the piece of black cloth that was still in your hands and putting it back on your head, to which you frowned and laughed amused.

“Oh, fine...” You whispered, pulling on her waist, with the black fabric clouding your vision, but not your senses, which were beginning to burn with the kisses that Donna began to place on your neck. “Wow, do you like that?”

Donna didn't speak, nor did she nod. She simply caressed your face beneath her veil, letting you know her response as she played with the buttons of her dress.

You gasped at her seductive, burning touch, at how her hands ran over your bare skin, at how they covered your breasts while her mouth traveled down your neck and her body rocked against yours.

You laughed, closing your eyes, noticing how her hand moved the fabric away so her lips could devour yours for a few moments while her fingers played with your nipples and her obvious erection rubbed against your body.

“Mm, Donna...” You murmured, opening her dress so her torso was revealed to you, so her pale skin would send shivers through your body.

“Shh, silenzio,” she whispered, laughing sinisterly, squeezing one of your breasts with subtle strength, which made you gasp with pleasure and move your hips against her body. “They are mine, you understand?” She asked. “Just nod.”

You obeyed, curious about that question, about that attitude so out of the ordinary for Donna.

“Only mine, (Y/N)...” She sighed again, joining the movements of your body as her own bra gave way in your skillful and mischievous hands, hands that she grabbed immediately. “No, no, tesoro…”

“I'm yours?” You asked, defying her order to keep you quiet, pushing aside her veil so you could shamelessly capture her lips, making her move away, placing her hands on your chest.

“Mine, (Y/N),” she responded, slowly turning you around and leaning over the wooden table, leaving you completely exposed to her desires, to her body's desire to dominate yours, to make it hers, again.

“Very well, then make me yours,” you said amused, separating your legs, making her gasp at the exciting vision she had before her. Your face was still covered by that black cloth, which she placed in such a way that it wouldn't move, before leaning down to your ear and pressing her shaft against your wetness, now free of her underwear.

“Don't take it off, (Y/N)...” Donna whispered softly as her hands ran down your back, down your legs, until one of her fingers ran through your wet folds, making you moan and nod, moving your legs.

Her caresses were slow, almost like a small warning of what was to come. The wetness that permeated her fingers was enough to make her moan as well. The position you were in and the veil prevented you from seeing her face. You knew she was smiling, you knew she had that smile.

“Shh, stay still,” she told you, lowering your back so it leaned on the table while her finger played with your entrance, with your clit, moving in circles so your hips demanded a little more contact, just a little more.

Her hot commands entered your ears like a current of warm air, causing your legs to spread even further and her finger to slide inside of you slowly, making your world spin, making you fervently desire more contact, more pleasure, more Donna.

“Stop playing with me,” you protested, amused, feeling her finger curl inside of you, exploring your body, getting your walls used to the contact.

“I like to play with you,” she hissed, raising your back so she could kiss you on your neck and continue dancing with your body.

“Donna, don't make me suffer,” you begged, clenching your fists on the table as her finger disappeared from your body and her hands roamed your chest from behind, squeezing your breasts, claiming them as hers.

“Okay...” She sighed, leaving that game aside and approaching you, placing her shaft at your entrance but just playing with it, running through your folds in a hot and wet caress.

You moaned at the contact, at her erection caressing your body, making you claim her to be inside of you with a few discreet movements of your hips.

“Donna,” you said with a more serious tone, hitting the table with one of your fists, looking at her through the sides of the veil. “Please…”

She sighed, but she didn't say anything. She simply complied with your wishes, slowly inserting the tip, letting your body adjust to hers. You moaned in pleasure, noticing how your walls stretched, hugging her body in a terribly exciting way.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked by surprise at your hisses of pleasure. Donna always will be the kind innocent woman in black. She couldn't be any other way.

“No, no, move, please,” you said, moaning with pleasure when she was completely in you, sliding along your wet and eager insides.

She obeyed your request slowly also beginning to moan at the sensation, gently grabbing your hips to maintain a stable rhythm, but it couldn't help but be anxious, desperate.

The wooden table creaked under your movements, adding to the wet sounds of your improvised lustful act, turning that sinister room into the warmest one ever, the most obscene ever.

“You're so wet, (Y/N)...” Donna whispered in an amused tone, panting as she moved inside of you, alternating strong thrusts with weaker, more intense ones. Just the way you liked it. That was just for you. “Did you like posing for me?”

You smiled, grabbing the edge of the table to keep from losing your balance, moving your hips to match her thrusts, to feel how your walls hugged her erection, how they made it slide inside and almost out of you.

“Mmm, yes, I love posing for you,” you said almost without thinking, overwhelmed by pleasure, by all the sensations you had experienced, by the relief you felt between your legs and by the excitement that wearing that veil caused you.

“I see...” She murmured, laughing amusedly as she leaned over you, reaffirming her control, reaffirming that you were hers, reaffirming that she was inside of you and you, even if you wanted to, couldn't get away. You didn't want to either.

“Donna, fuck... I'm, I'm close,” you moaned with a growl, noticing how your body tensed little by little, how the pleasure clouded your vision much more than the black veil.

“You're rude, (Y/N)” she said, amused, giving you a small spank on one of your buttocks, which was the spark your body needed to arch completely, letting yourself be carried away by the waves of pleasure from your orgasm. A scandalous one, probably the most scandalous one you had ever had.

Donna held you tightly so she could continue moving inside of you, this time much faster, affirming with her actions how close she was to possessing you again. It didn't take long to happen, causing the heat to accompany your orgasm with her wet caresses, making you full of her again.

The lady sighed, letting herself fall onto your back, staying very close to you, inside of you as her body relaxed, enjoying the obscene wetness that dripped between your legs.

Exhausted, you turned around, pushing the black fabric away with one hand while you kissed her, as long as you owed her that love that you used to give her in those situations. Although this time, she didn't seem to feel insecure at all.

“I love you,” she said, returning to her being, returning to being the shy and affectionate Donna that a lust caused by you had hidden for a moment.

You took off the veil, passing it back around her neck and pulling it, looking at her with a loving and satisfied expression at the same time.

“Me too...” You sighed, returning her affection with a slow, loving and tender kiss, far from the previous actions. “Hey, I've been thinking...”

“What?” She asked curiously, burying her head in your shoulder, letting herself be embraced by your protective arms.

“I would really like to take some photos of you with the veil on too, just with the veil on...”

[bettyfrommars]

The Nightmare Factory: Origins

nightmare!eddie x Reader

Masterlist

a little peek into how Eddie got the job

Sigh, yet another blurb that turned into 2k. There is mention of Reader in this, but no actual interaction. We get to meet the notorious Kevin and get a glimpse at the inside of the building where nightmare!eddie works, as well as run into a few of his future co-workers. I love those of you who have shown interest in this; let me know if there are certain things/events you'd like to see. wc: 2.2k

18+ONLY, mature themes, horror, nothing bad happens but there will be mention of gore and scary things. Nightmare!eddie, Gareth, a ventriloquist doll, liminal spaces, mention of spiders and creepy dolls. A severed foot. I write these like a fever dream and then post them, so I hope it makes a decent amount of sense.

---------

When Wayne told Eddie that there were positions open at the Nightmare Factory, it just so happened that he was tired of slaving over a grill every day and ready for something new.  But he wasn't interested in working at a desk or on the janitorial team—he wanted to travel and scare the shit out of a few people.

From the trailer park, he could see the tall stacks in the distance, jutting up into the sky, pumping out industrial black smoke from somewhere inside the factory. He never realized how much elbow grease went into producing nightmares.  

The Nightmare Factory had not always been there.  One day, it just appeared, as it was prone to do in various locations all over the world.  Months ago, he was having a smoke out behind the diner where he worked the kitchen, when a creepy doll head fell from the sky and bounced to the ground.  It rolled to the edge of the nearby dumpster and wedged there.

He yelled for Gareth to come out so he could tell him what just happened.

“It’s raining heads,” Eddie blew a raspberry laugh after he said it, and the two of them bent to get a closer look.

The plastic doll head had long, patchy, auburn hair that fell over its face, and it was missing a glass eyeball.  Eddie picked it up and stood to full height, turning it around to give it a look.  A thick, slimy centipede slithered out of the empty eye socket and crawled over Eddie’s finger, making him yelp and throw the thing.

He shook his hand out, making sure the centipede was not still on him.  Not too far away on the pavement, the head now looked molded and rotten, as if it had been made of living tissue.

“It’s that fucking Nightmare Factory, I’m telling you,” Gareth insisted, wiping his hands on his apron. “It just showed up a couple days ago, and yesterday I saw a frog walking on its hind legs with a mouth full of vampire teeth.”

Eddie licked his lips, thoughtfully.  

Soon enough, he was driving to the factory in question with his resume next to him in the seat, wearing the nicest shirt and pair of jeans he owned, and he even had his hair tied back—at Wayne’s urging.  “You’re not a drug dealer anymore, son, you need to look presentable.”

Upon arrival, an ornate, iron gate opened at the entrance, and he followed in what appeared to have once been a car.  The metal was dented all over like a piece of balled-up paper, and the blue paint chipped in areas to expose the dull yellow underneath.  The passenger window was nothing but saran wrap secured with duct tape, and there were a few aluminum cans tied to the bumper with string.  The cans were pock-marked and rusted, and the vehicle drove at a tilt as if the tires on one side were too small. 

On the back window, there was white writing, scrawled as if with a non-dominant hand.  Eddie squinted at the lettering, saying it out loud as he read: JUST DEAD.

He parked the van in front of one of the visitor placards right next to a wood-paneled station wagon.

On the outside, the factory looked like an old, abandoned steel mill you might see from the freeway as you passed, but inside—it offered the aesthetic of a pristine, marble floor museum.  A museum without any artifacts or art—just bare, cream walls, one long hallway of doors, low, fluorescent lighting, a reception desk, and a pair of mysterious double doors to the right.

Eddie’s footsteps echoed in the empty hall as he made his way over to the reception desk.

The secretary was bent over behind the desk, possibly jotting down a note, when Eddie cleared his throat to get her attention.  She had on a light blue, pillbox hat from the 60’s with a matching suit, and wore her hair in a short, platinum blonde bob.  

When she looked up at him, he realized her face was made of fiberglass—her pink lips and wide, a tiny, sharp nose, and blue eyes frozen in time.  There was a lightning-shaped crack down her cheek that feathered out down her neck, and he realized then, with one glance down at her stiff hands, that she was a broken mannequin.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked without moving her mouth; lips slightly parted and turned up at one corner.

“Um, yeah, no,” Eddie stammered, taken aback when a few small spiders crawled out of the crack on her face.  “I’m here about the job opening.”

“Ah, well then you’ll need to meet with Kevin,” she confirmed, running her beige, plastic hand down some scribbles on a big appointment book.  “He is the only door on the 3rd floor.  I’ll let him know you are on your way.”

“Oh great, thanks,” Eddie moved his hand to flash her the devil horns, but then he realized that might not be appropriate, faltered a bit, and then chose a thumbs up instead.  “I like that color blue on you, it matches your eyes.”

The receptionist couldn’t blush, but she did give a high-pitched giggle at the compliment.  

There were two sets of elevator doors, and while he waited in front of one for it to open, the one next to it dinged, and a group of tall, thin men in black coats with no faces and hooks for hands stepped out. They seemed to glide on the air more than walk, and he wondered if they had any feet.  One gave a wave of his hook to Eddie and mumbled, “morning,” as they moved to enter one of the doors across the way.  

The hallway to Kevin’s office had a clear, aquarium floor with colorful fish fluttering around in Eddie’s path, and he stopped to admire them for a minute as a smile stretched around his face.  There was mellow jazz playing from a speaker somewhere overhead it reminded him of the waiting room at the dentist office. It wasn’t long before a severed foot that looked like it had been sawed or bitten off at the ankle floated through the aquarium beneath him, and Eddie’s smile dropped.  The toe was nearly bitten off by little fish nibbles.  

“This fucking place,” he whispered to himself, one fist in the pocket of his leather jacket, as he took note of the portrait painting on the wall from the early 1900’s of a woman in a dress sitting in a chair, and it looked like her eyes had been cut out, offering two perfect ovals for another pair of eyes to peep out.  

The door to Kevin’s office was open, so Eddie rapped his knuckle on the wall and stuck his head in. “Hello? Kevin? I’m here about the job?”

When he didn’t get a response, he pushed in a bit further, with caution.

The inside looked like the library of some distinguished gentleman; a big oak desk backed by floor to ceiling rows of books; a globe on a brass stand; oil paintings with ornate frames; a cigar smoldering in a glass ashtray near the cream-colored phone with the blinking red light on it.  

Eddie made one last attempt: “Hello?”

“I’m right here, you knob,” a tiny, irritated voice said.

Eddie turned to follow the sound, and the chair behind the desk spun around to reveal what appeared to be a ventriloquist doll in a blue and white sailor suit, sitting atop a few thick encyclopedias so that he could reach the top of the desk.  It had a big, abnormal grin on its face that hinged at the chin, and eyebrows too high on the head, as if he were eternally shocked, framed in a swirl of brown, plastic hair.  

“That's me. I am Kevin. Go ahead, sit,” the doll extended his arm, motioning to one of the two chairs in front of his desk.  They were both small, plastic chairs meant for children, and Eddie eyed them with trepidation.  Before he could sit, he had to move a thick book titled “Ruling the World for Dummies” and set it on the desk.  His hips barely fit as he shoved down into the seat, angling his head all the way back to look up at Kevin.

He slid his resume forward on the wood as if he were a middle school kid handing in his homework.

Kevin hopped from the stack of books onto the desk in his shiny black shoes and looked over the piece of paper—his featureless fingers flexing.

“A mechanic and a line cook,” Kevin’s eyes clicked as he looked at the typed out words, and then found Eddie’s eager gaze over the top of the page.  “So, no nightmare experience?”

Eddie’s brain scurried for the correct answer. “Well, not professionally, no. But I’m a quick study, and my life is kind of one big nightmare, if you know what I mean,” he rubbed his sweaty palms up and down on the knees of his jeans while Kevin returned a blank—albeit perpetually alarmed—expression.  

“Can you work weekends?”

“Yes.”

“Evenings?”

“Sure. Well, except some Fridays and Tuesdays.  My band, we—” 

“What about portals? Do you experience motion sickness during interdimensional travel?” Kevin interrupted.

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” Eddie moved his eyes around the room, keeping his head still.  

“Are you willing to sign an NDA in regards to this facility, and any activities that take place herein?”

Eddie considered that for a second, wondering how strictly they enforced the non-disclosure agreement.  At the end of the day, he really didn’t talk to many people, but it was hard for him to keep his mouth shut around those he did interact with.

“Sure,” Eddie shrugged.

“Great. Swell.” Kevin dropped the resume, letting it slip off the desk and flutter to the ground without a second thought. He bent down to pick up the cigar that was still smoldering and stuffed the fat end in between his grinning lips.  The smoke he inhaled came out his ears.  “You’re hired.  Benefits start after 30 days. Come back tomorrow around the same time and someone will give you a tour and set you up with a locker.”

Eddie moved to stand up and thank him, but his ass was stuck in the chair, so he sat back down for the time being.

“Do you know what type of nightmares you want to specialize in?” Kevin asked.

Eddie hadn’t considered any of that.  “Um, what are my options?”

Kevin rolled his eyes and put his cigar back down.  “Do you even have any idea what we do here?”

“I’ll be honest, man,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, offering a bit of a smirk. “I'm just looking for a paycheck. But I’m a hard worker, I’ll take anything you throw at me.”

What Kevin didn’t tell him was that Eddie was the only applicant they’d had all week.  Work conditions were rather dismal at the factory as of late, and the turn-over rate was astronomical; there were Nightmare Scholars with several degrees still slumming it as closet monsters and ghosts that tapped on windows pretending to be a branch.

But, Eddie was fine with it.  He wasn’t interested in a career in nightmares—his music was all that mattered to him back then.

Back before your nightmares were all he cared about.  

“At the end of the hall on the first floor, there’s a bulletin board with the positions that are available.  You’ll need to pick one, and then Walter will get you enrolled in whatever classes you need.”

“Walter?” Eddie asked, looking around, as if the Walter in question might appear at any second from out of the bookshelf.  

“You’ll meet him tomorrow,” Kevin’s head turned to the side, but his body stayed facing forward.  “He’s a swamp monster; big guy.  He’s in charge of all the new trainees. Man’s got a particular foul odor about him, but damn his wife is a great cook.”

Eddie’s wallet chain clinked against the plastic chair as he forced it off his hips like popping out a cork, and he thanked Kevin with a wave.  

Little did he know then what a pain in his ass Kevin would be.

Little did he know that, some 2 years later, he’d be so dedicated to the work that they’d be offering him a promotion.  

They offered to put him in a training position, or behind a desk sorting dream journal entries, but he had no interest in such things.  They could keep their promotions.

He needed to stay on the ground, in the trenches.

Until he could find a way out of your dreams and into your arms.   --------

-------

[taylorrepdetective]

Picture a hypothetical hedge maze.

There are multiple entry points to this maze. Each entry gives clues to its potential as being able to lead you on an easy path to the center. In the center, the prize is you get confirmation that you now understand the details of Taylor swift’s private life and inspiration behind her songs.

So you choose an entrance that seems the best to you, based on what you know. You enter the maze and it is infinite. There are multiple twists and turns and dead-ends. As you wander through, new paths are created and you follow some of those as well. You get nearer and nearer to the center but you never quite reach it. Along the way, you encountered others on the same quest. You find out they entered the maze at a different point than you, but here you are at the same point. You walk along together for a bit but eventually you choose different paths and part ways. You can see the center but you can’t get in. So you retrace some steps and try different paths, with the same result. You never quite make it to the middle.

So you make your way out of the maze and look at the entrances again. Maybe you try a different entrance with clues that don’t make quite as much sense as the first one but you figure you’ll give it a try. Similar results as the first but you don’t ever get as close to the center as you had the first time.

So again you make your way out and re-examine the entrances. There is one entrance you never try because it’s not even really an entrance. It’s guarded by a creepy abandoned ventriloquist dummy that haunts your dreams since childhood, and is partly overgrown with thorns, and immediately inside it appears to be a dead-end you can see without even going in.

So you go back to the first one. Since you left, many new paths have been generated and you try some of them, but again you can’t reach the center. You’re farther away than ever.

You repeat this endlessly. Trying different entrances wandering the twist and turns. But never make it to the center.

What you don’t know is that there is only one entrance that can get you to the middle. And that entrance is the stupid scary looking one you don’t ever try. That one, once you pass the harmless but scary dummy, and wiggle through a bit of the overgrowth, you find that the dead-end is false, and it leads into a labyrinth with one twisting turning path directly to the center. If only you’d get past the fear of going in…

.

A silly little essay I wrote after Midnights came out.

[cool-frog-hours]

Strahd Von Zarovich has never looked better 😉

Puppet structure was made by me and was skinned + clothed by @thepageofheart and @townhulls

Surprised the whole party for our last session until December by whipping up this bad boy in three days (again, massive thanks to my co conspirators)! They’d bought the Strahd ventriloquist dummy from Blinsky the previous session, so I thought it would be funny if Strahd pranked them with it. The party, of course, roasted the fuck out of him.

He’s made out of 1/2 inch foam for his body, various colors of felt, white fleece for the ‘skin’, googly eyes, yarn i’d had for a hot minute for his hair, white fabric from my stash for his shirt, clearance jewelry (also from Joann’s) for the necklace and earrings, and a shit load of hot glue. His head pattern was one I found for free online that I modified slightly. I made up a pattern for his ears and nose which were attached separately to his face. The inside of his head is padded with more foam and given structure via cardboard supports so that the puppeteer’s hand (mine) doesn’t slide around too much and so it doesn’t lose its shape. His left hand has a simple armature inside it so that the fingers are posable. His head and body foam are separate, but connected by felt so that his head can turn freely.

All in all, for our first ever try at making a puppet, id say we did pretty good 😊

[katiebug586]

Honestly, it's criminal how underrated Pelswick is. As a cartoon created by a disabled cartoonist, it's incredible how pro-disability and anti-ableist it is. The entire moral of Pelswick is essentially 'Treat me like you would a normal person, you weirdos', with it not afraid to delve into the inherent issue with infantilizing disabled people and how some people act all righteous but are really just being performative.

I re-watched "Hear No Evil, PC No Evil" last night (Yes, the PC does indeed stand for 'politically correct') and I don't think it stuck with me that much when I first watched it a couple years ago, but wow. The plot is basically that Pelswick's dad is seeing a supposedly multi-ethnic woman named "Spagna", who turns out to be one of the most infantilizing characters I think I've ever seen on TV. She refuses to see Pelswick as a kid who happens to use a wheelchair, instead acting as if he's helpless and needs everything done for him because he's such a 'poor, helpless' boy. She ends up accidentally 'Sigmund Freuding' herself into calling Pelswick the C-word when he rightfully tells her off for treating him like he's some kind of fucking charity case, then loses her shit because how dare she say the c-word, (like yeah, you shouldn't, but there's a couple of other things you need to work on first, lady) and scrubs her mouth with a soap she conveniently has on hand and leaves the house sobbing. Pelswick's dad immediately says he's breaking up with her after she leaves. Not for the c-word comment, I don't think, but "have you ever seen somebody so PC in all your life?".

I vaguely remember there being another episode where Pelswick got suspended because he refused to make his ventriloquist dummy or whatever they were with a wheelchair because gasp! he sees himself as himself, and doesn't base his whole character and personality on being paralyzed. There was another where he couldn't go on a school field trip to go camping because of his wheelchair, even though Pelswick does snidely remark that he's the only kid who couldn't accidentally get paralyzed.

Not ALL of the episodes involve Pelswick being infantilized though, there's plenty of episodes that revolve around him being a kid and doing dumb kid shit without his wheelchair being brought into question other than it just being there, which I think adds to the point I was trying to make with the three episodes I mention. However, when the subject/issue DOES come up, Pelswick doesn't just nod his head and take it, he ends up giving out various clapbacks (sometimes with the help/vague advice of his guardian angel, Mr. Jimmy) to them. And more likely than not, these people end up outing themselves as being ableist shitheads anyway.

Pelswick does need some aid/help, his house has an elevator installed so he can get to the second floor, and a ramp he can use instead of steps, but that's miles better than just assuming he needs everything done for him.

Anyway, if you enjoy good disabled representation and want a recommendation, watch Pelswick.