#still cant believe how many people came to this ;;;;;;

[mrghostrat]

it's a day for kisses

thank you so much to all who came to watch this stream!! we kissed for 6 hours together 😭💛 (if you missed it, you can watch the recording here!)

[high res]

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[mainfaggot]

just watched challengers at the cinema w my little sister. it was so intense wtf

[o-sunny-day]

@forgettable-au Babybones Fancomic ✨

“Keep Reading” for the rest :3 (10 Pages)

*deep breath*

you hear that?

thats the sound of AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ok. I spent. 31 Hours of my life on this. And i dont regret. a GODAMN thing.

i will go on, but first, A N A L Y S I S

PAGE 1

The title “Radio Star” comes from the song “Video Killed The Radio Star” by The Buggles. Its lyrics I believe are absolutely perfect for this AU, Examples being “Rewritten by machine and new technology” , “We hear the playback and it seemed so long ago” , and “We cant rewind we’ve gone too far”

The title also refers to how…1, they build a radio-

and 2, Sans calls Papyrus a Star at Grillbys if you call him “uncool”

PAGE 2

Nothing to note

PAGE 3

This is the first real scene I had in mind. The entire concept came from me imagining how Sans’ memories of Wingdings got overwritten, so where in memories he’d call Wingdings by his name, he calls him Papyrus.

In an animation with audio, itd be like “Aw cmon, P A P Y R U S” and be a silly little jumpscare.

Buttttt then ofc the idea turned into a thing where I couldn’t shape it into a “fake” memory.

I wanted to play with their characters as they WERE not how they remember them being.

PAGE 4

Nothing

PAGE 5

As they travel to the barrier, Wingdings is leading, and COMPLETELY focused on his goal. Ignoring Gerson (social interaction) while Sans takes his time and looks around getting “distracted”. This exemplifies the nature of their relationship.

Them in Hotland, they’re actually right next to the lab. Taking the elevator the guards were…guarding. So Sans is looking at the lab like “hey. Hey wingdings, look, look at that building, thats so cool”

PAGE 6

At the bottom is just another example of Wingdings being deadset on his goal, while Sans is helping out but still stopping to smell the flowers

PAGE 7

This panel makes me so happy-

It works??? vs It works!!!

Wingdings doesn’t come across as the kind of guy to doubt himself, I just think he’d be shocked at himself regardless that he pulled this off. Meanwhile Sans is just thrilled 😭

PAGE 8

N/A

PAGE 9

Oh boy this is the finale of explanation.

This conversation that Asgore and Sans have. Is REALLY important to me

Asgore/everyone that isnt sans, cannot understand Wingdings. So, Sans is talking for him. It may come across as him taking all the glory or whatever, but NO. look at his dialogue boxes! they’re not blocking out WD, and he’s like “YEAH 😊 MY BROTHERS SO FUCKING COOL”

Meanwhile Asgores boxes are completely blocking WD out. He thinks Sans built it cause hes doing all the explaining, and Sans isnt getting the hint that Asgore THINKS THAT HE MADE IT its a whole thing

Wingdings appreciates Sans, but he doesn’t appreciate people thinking he did all the work-

Asgores dialogue box when asking “How did you build such a thing??” is covering Wingdings, and he’s looking at SANS. he’s asking Sans how he built it, meanwhile Sans, still not getting the clue, is looking at wingdings like “:) cmon bro, tell him, you know ill translate for you!”

PAGE 10

Sans then understands at least that Wingdings does not want to indulge this- and goes into explaining mode, as hes done it so many times before-

Sans saying “You cant understand him” instead of something like “his font is hard to understand” is important because he is putting the “blame” on you. He’s fully aware this is something Wingdings WISHES he could change about himself so badly, so he just kinda naturally changes his tone which I find really fun when writing dialogue :3

This comic, I feel is an example of how much this AU/comic series means to me-

As much as I obsess over and LOVE comics as a medium, this is the first ever I have ever properly finished. ofc there have been like 2 page ones, but YEAH this is the first BIG one i have ever finished in my entire life.

These characters- as much as they’re Tobys, they are also Sunsestarts in my opinion. The situation they are put in of JUST the font trouble alone is something i’m SO fascinated by and clearly- had the time of my LIFE writing and playing with. And thats ignoring all the other shit that happens BECAUSE of that.

Undertale is special, The Forgettable AU is SPECIAL- THESE SKELETONS ARE SPECIAL

Im on the edge of my seat waiting to see what happens next because I know whatever it is, its gonna be special

also, I made this while listening to Slipping Through My Fingers on repeat. I regret nothing

((ALSO I HIGHLY RECOMMEND TIME/SPACE BY ALEX G, ITS A GREAT SONG IM DEFINITELY GONNA STORYBOARD A FORGETTABLE AMV TO CAUSE ITS REALLY REALLY GOOD, ID TOTALLY TIE IT TO THIS COMIC- BUT ITS MORE FOR PAPYRUS AND GASTER INTERACTIONS RATHER THAN BABYBONES???)

[leisureflame]

"I CANT THINK"

If you write, I assure you you have thought that.

Fear no more child, for I have found a solution.

it's called Rapid writing

something we learned when I was in 9th grade drama class and I cannot emphasize enough just how effective it is. Its actually what gave me the idea for my first book.

Stop what you are doing and do what I tell you

go grab either a pencil and paper (or open an empty document)

set a timer for 2 minutes

ask a friend to give you a random sentence. I have a few examples that I myself rapid wrote to: a) I looked around and saw b) the old lady hung from the ceiling and laughed c) purple paint dripped from her long purple fingernails d) there is a hole in my ceiling. e) when I am sad I... f) When you close the door, I... g) there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob

Now the most important thing is not to think of this sentence before you start writing. as soon as you decide which one if you are choosing from my examples (or as soon as you hear it if you are getting if from a friend), start the timer.

start writing the sentence and without hesitating just keep writing. the #1 rule here is to not stop or hesitate for a single second until the 2 minutes are over. you can write nonsense if you want and if you REALLY can't continue then write some random words for a couple of seconds then continue AS LONG AS YOU ARE STILL WRITING.

another rule is that you are not allowed to delete. even if its a spelling error, just ignore it.

after the timer is done, I promise you will have something to work with. now copy the paragraph you wrote and paste it below, here you can start fixing spelling errors and adding things at your own pace because now the creative side of your brain has opened.

don't think about the way you are writing or the words you use, think about the story you are telling. the idea.

Sometimes you will get something beautiful and deep like I did here:

When I am sad I go to my blanket, not many people know about it, all they think is happening is that a child likes to cuddle in a blanket, but no. my blanket has a special thing about it, it is a magical blanket, well, not the blanket itself but the embroidery on the blanket, it simply takes my sadness away but it adds the story of my emotions to the embroidery, my blanket is a very pretty one, it is a pastel blue color and it has so much silk embroideries that you just think its patterns, but it isn't, if you look deeper you will find stories every one of those stories came from someones tears... my tears. whenever i cry, i wipe my tears with my blanket and my pain goes but my story stays.

or

there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob on the door there is a painting of you, and there are many locks on the door from top to bottom, when you open the door, there is a mirror. this door is the door to self discovery, from the outside there is a painting of how people think you look like but when you open the door, you get to see what you really are in detail and look at yourself they way you want to, you can smile or cry and the refection on the mirror will change but on the painting, it doesn't show ur emotions, just how people see you usually.

or you can get something so stupid like i did here:

there is a hole in the ceiling in my classroom. everyday a dinosaur would a pear and eat my lunch and i keep coming home hungry but my mom dsays she packed me enough food. so she didn't feed me. i told her a dinasour was eating my lunch but she said that disasours only live in Norway! so i went into the school vents looking for that idino and revenge my food, we met at last, held our weapons, i was holding a subway sandwich and the dino was holding a bana na MY BANANA  i lost it, so i attacked him one hit on the head and the whole species were extinct , people thousand of years from now said dinos got extinct because of a meteorite but i know better, also i am still alive because whoever kills a dino becomes immortal, also i killed my mom for not believing me and let her starve in her grave just like she let made me starve. and then i killed everyone who was a flat earther because i hate them and now i can kill anyone once i tap them with my super subway sandwich 

(by the way, ignore the horrible spelling, the examples i gave were from the unedited version.)

THE POINT IS ITS ACTUALLY SO HELPFUL. you can use it for a new story idea (i used the blanket one as an element in one of my WIPs and it helped the story a lot) or if you get something stupid like the dino one I wrote THATS GOOD THATS FINE because now you have your creativity going.

I challenge you to actually try this and PLEASE share it with me I LOVE reading other peoples rapid writings. have fun <3

tagging @cosmosandcapybaras24 @ajsbookshelf @gloryofdawn, @chaoticharmony93 @deception-united and anyone else who's interested to try this out and share with me!

[birdburrito]

I have been a huge Harry Potter Fan in my Childhood. Harry Potter was the first book i enjoyed reading. I won a reading contest in my school witha part of the first Harry Potter book. I wanted to become an author in fourth grade because of the books. I wrote my own fantasy story based on the books and i loved pottermore when it first came out. I can emphasize with the Harry Potter Fans who dont want to let go of the series because it means so much to them like it meant so much to me as a child. Often in online debates people get very defensive. Short snappy comments are better for the algorithms and its easier to hate people who still like Harry Potter despite knowing what J K Rowling political stance is on many issues. But I believe you cant convince anyone by just attacking them so here are some general thoughts from me on losing something you used to really really like. Im german and in Germany we have some very old children stories called Struwwelpeter. They seem very cruel to modern readers. A boy for example gets his thumbs cut off because he keeps sucking them. As a child these stories were very disturbing to me. Later i learnt that this story for example was written in a time where children often would die because they would get diseases from sucking there thumbs. Medicine was not evolved enough to save these children and the concept to keep children save by scaring them seemed like a good idea. The fairytales, a lot of people only know the disney version of, many of them also have a more cruel ending for similar reasons. Why am I bringing this up? Context matters to a story. Harry Potter wasnt a perfect story that got ruined by Rowlings tweets in the last few years there are many bigoted ideas in Harry Potter from the beginning. Also just because you liked something as a child it doesnt mean it was very good media. Lets talk about behaviour therapy shall we. The whole idea of behaviour therapy is that you can become a happier person if you change your behaviour (very simplified). The process of that however means a lot of times, that first you are going to be struggling or unhappier then before. Change is never comfortable. Humans love to stay in there behaviour patterns they know and new things are scary. But in the end behaviour therapy does work! If you get over your discomfort you will develop healthier coping mechanisms for example and you will get better. Now back to Harry Potter. Yes it is uncomfortable and sad to admit something you love isnt as good as you thought it was. Yes it can also feel embarassing to admit you were wrong. But to change is to grow. It might sound over dramatic talking about a children book series like this, but giving J K Rowling more money does cause real harm for people (especially trans people) in the real world. Also my concern is if you cant let go of a book you really like how far will it go? What about a person you admired that turns out to be bad for you? What about a political party? Its not nice to be wrong but its something we all have to learn to live with and its ok. You will be fine. This post is specifically about harry potter fans that are not transphobic, terfs or agree in any other way with Rowlings political views ofc Here are some youtube videos about things being wrong in the original Harry Potter series:

(you can also search harry potter bad on youtube for many many more videos)

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Could I make one where Balwin's wife is pregnant but during childbirth she is surprised and it is not a single baby, if it is not 3 triplets and they are chubby and pink, what will be people's reaction?

♡ Sweet Surprise - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request, I think that this was one of the ones that got deleted by the glitch a little while ago so I'm so sorry about that, but I'm glad you sent it back in so I could complete it! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Child Birth

It was exactly one month after the union between the king and queen of Jerusalem that y/n fell pregnant.

After many weeks of trying, it had finally happened.

The young couple were overjoyed, having exceeded all doubts about Baldwin’s fertility due to his illness. It was truely a blessing from the lord Himself and needless to say, the entire kingdom was of the same opinion.

As the months went on, the queen fell heavily pregant. More so than what was expected. This worried the physicians greatly, believing that there may be something wrong.

Y/n was confined to the royal chambers to preserve her health until labour.

Baldwin was destraught. Thinking irrationally, he believed that it had something to do with his disease.

His anxiety grew with each passing day, no matter how many times his queen consoled him and assured him that the situation was no fault of his own.

---------------------

And then, the day came.

The king was out overseeing the construction of a new church in the kingdom when a servant on the back of a large stallion sprinted up to the small group of officials.

“MY LORD MY LORD!” he shouted, leaping down from the horse, panting and tripping overhimself.

“Oh my, are you okay? What is going on?” Baldwin replied, his heart quickening at the thought of an emergency.

“My lord, its the queen, she is in labour!” 

The king and the rest of the small party waisted no time in mounting their horses and cantering back to the castle as fast as possible. 

When they arrived, Baldwin payed no attention to the pain that his body was in. He lept down from the horse, ignoring the surge of agony that shot through his lower body when his feet hit the ground.

He was the first into the castle and ascended the stairs to the royal chambers in no time.

Breathing heavely, he pushed open the doors with the last of his strength before falling to his knees.

Two maids immediately rushed to his side, helping their king to his feet.

“Y/n! Is she okay? Is the baby alright?!” he asked urgently, still panting heavily.

“Baldwin!” y/n called from the bed, “I am alright my love, come see!”.

As the kings vision cleared, the bed that held his wife came into view. As did the baby. And another baby? And another? In the queens arms lay three, healthy, chubby, pink babies who were all sleeping peacefully against their mothers body.

Baldwin gasped, a wide grin quickly spreading across his mask covered face.

The maids helped him to the bed, sitting him down carefully beside his wife.

“They are all healthy sweetheart, thats why my belly was so big! There was nothing wrong, I was just holding triplets!” y/n said, an equally wide smile on her face. 

The young king was lost for words and overcome with nothing but pure joy.

“I- I cant believe it! This is the most amazing day of my life! Oh thank you lord!’’ Baldwin praised, his grin hidden by the mask.

He pressed his forehead against the top of his wifes head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I cant believe this is happening! I have never been happier” he said, feeling tears of joy welling in his eyes.

Y/n chuckled, “neither can I darling. And I thought we were blessed with one, but THREE!”

Baldwin opened his eyes to look down at his children.

Each one was plump and healthy. Their arorable faces melted his heart.

“There are two boys and one girl” the queen said softly.

“Would you like to hold them?” she asked.

Baldwin thought for a moment, “I dont know if that is a good idea, what if they get sick? I couldnt live with myself if-” 

“Darling” y/n cut him off gently.

“It will be okay. You are clothed and you are wearing your mask. Nothing will happen I can assure you. Allow yourself this moment, you deserve it” she told him with a smile.

He took a deep breath before nodding, leaning against the headboard of the bed and holding out his arms.

One by one, y/n carefully placed each tiny bundle of life in his arms.

Two of them stayed in peaceful sleep but ones eyes opened slowly. It was one of the boys. He did not cry like many babies would, he simply yawned and looked up at his father with big blue eyes. Big blue eyes, just like Baldwin’s.

The kings heart swelled with joy and happiness again at the sight of his son. His own son.

“Oh my love look!, he has your eyes” y/n cooed, looking at the adorable little boy in her husbands arms.

“Yes, he does!” Baldwin’s own eyes welled with tears at the sight and he fought back a broken sob.

Noticing his tear filled eyes, y/n placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“Are you okay darling? Whats wrong?” she asked, suddenly worried.

“I’m alright my love. I’m just so happy, I never thought this day would come. Theyre so perfect, youre so perfect. Thank you y/n- I love you so much”

He tried his best to prevent tears from running down his cheeks, but when the chubby little boy in his arms smiled up at his fathers masked face, he could not fight it.

Y/n wrapped an arm around Baldwin’s shoulders and pulled him closer to her.

“You deserve this happiness sweetheart. I love you, and our family is, and will be, perfect” she kissed her husband's cheek and layed her head on his shoulder.

The king nodded, a small smile returning to his face.

He felt like the happiest man alive, and he knew that as long as he had these children and y/n in his life, he would stay that way for all eternity.

[starburstminibot]

Ok, seeing the post about the playlist, you mentioned how Breakdown only gets his act together after finding out that Bee was carrying

So it got me thinking (and this has actually been in my mind since i first came across the au tbh), but how was it while Bee was like, carrying?? There's the fact that, at first, many of the bots probably don't like Breakdown too since, well, he was not the best bf let's be honest.

Idk, I'm just curious to how things were before Breakcheck came to see the world

(Im going out of town for a week and cant draw so im just answering this with a straight up fanfiction-esk paragraph I’m so sorry wish I could be artistic for you anon)

Long story short: the Autobots are very forgiving but they can also be petty motherfuckers.

I mean they welcomed Megatron among their ranks and treat him (for the most part) as an equal and sometimes even a friend. Of course, Megatron earned that trust after years and years of repentance.

I imagine Breakdown is going through a similar arc. He’s never really been THAT loyal to the Decepticon cause. He just… kinda ended up there and didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He views Autobots as these goody, righteous people that he doesn’t feel like he belongs with. So really… what’s left besides Decepticons (considering yourself a neutral at one point was pretty much a death wish. A faction was the only way to acquire any sort of Energon or medical attention. Something Optimus tried hard to avoid, but the reality was safety in numbers.) the only kinship Breakdown ever felt was with the Stunticons… and they’ve been scattered to who knows where… if they’re even still alive.

Except he did have one friend. A friend he’s somehow managed to keep despite being on opposite sides of the war. He tried to convince Bee to join the Decepticons a few times but it was never with genuine intent. Bee was too good for the Cons; Breakdown knew that. He asked to get a rile out of him more than anything. Of course Bee would retort with his own argument of why BD should defect. He was serious about it… but Breakdown knew his place. He’d already done too much…

Now the war is over. And the leader of his faction doesn’t even believe in the cause anymore. Now, Breakdown’s never been a fan of Megatron anyways, but he sure as hell is pissed off when he abandons them to go be buddies with the Autobots. Maybe Breakdown is a little jealous (Of course, he’d never admit it) That Megatron, possibly the cruelest and most unforgiving of them all, is allowed to be redeemed.

He feels betrayed. All the Decepticons do really… He feels like he was led down a path that would only end in self destruction and at the last moment, the one who was paving the way jumped ship, leaving them all to suffer the consequences alone.

He never even wanted this.

But it’s way too late now. He dug this grave and he’s going to see to it that he’s buried in it. But despite the betrayal, and most of the Decepticons now stabbing each other in the back, trying to claim whatever power they can while holding on to this flimsy cause they can barely call a functioning faction, he still has Bee… who is maybe more than just a friend at this point but that’s a lot of feelings Breakdown isn’t ready to unpack.

And he still runs every time it feels a little too good to be true. Still proclaims his loyalty to the Decepticons because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s on a sinking ship. And he still keeps his distance because he refuses to take Bumblebee down with him when it finally goes under.

And maybe they’ve got a fling going… and maybe the autobots start to catch on. It doesn’t matter though, Breakdown doesn’t stick around long enough to see their sneers.

Until… he finds out Bee’s carrying that is… because damn he may not be the best bot in the galaxy but he’s not a complete deadbeat.

And when it hits him… that he’s going to be a sire… well maybe… he start’s sticking around to see the sneers. He hears the mumbles of disapproval. And boyyy does it make him so angry at first. How dare these holier-than-thou bots. They don’t know him or what he’s had to do to survive. How many comrades he’s lost thanks to them. They don’t know what Bee means to him. They don’t know just how much he loves Bumblebee. How he would lay down his spark for him in a klick.

Then Breakdown questions… Does Bee even know that?

From then on… Breakdown realizes, preserving his ego isn’t worth this. He has a chance now. A real honest chance. To do better… to have the life he actually wants… with the one bot who hasn’t ever given up on him.

He wants it so bad.

So he puts up with the comments and the obvious distrust. Because he’s willing to put in the work it takes to earn it. He’s going to prove how much he wants this. He’s going to prove how much he cares. He’s going to prove he is capable of doing better… and maybe along the way he’ll learn… he’s deserving of better too…

Breakdown is lucky Bumblebee has always been a little spoiled because it didn’t take too much convincing for the autobots to give him a shot. To attempt to accept him into their ranks.

He thought Optimus would be the worst of it. The one who practically raised the bot Breakdown knocked up. And for a while it is. Optimus lectures him every chance he gets. Any small hiccup, any little mistake. He doesn’t go easy on breakdown. Optimus at least pretends to be polite about it, or at least professional.He doesn’t yell, or make unnecessary insults. His words are always very honest (which makes them that much harder to hear) but Breakdown will take it… he’ll sit through it, no matter how hard he has to bite his tongue against saying something he’ll regret. He knows how thin the ice is. But he’ll do it for Bee.

The others are a little more brutal… Elita especially so… they are more sharp with their words (and sometimes their blasters) letting him know just what they think of him.

But no… the worst of all… is Megatron. Because Megatron is probably the only bot in the whole faction who looks at him and empathizes. Breakdown doesn’t want empathy. Especially not from the damn bot who betrayed him. Megatron doesn’t give lectures, he doesn’t verbally or physically abuse him when he steps out of line. He barely even raises his voice. And it pisses Breakdown off more than anything. Sometimes he slips up in front of Megatron just to push his boundaries, just to see if he can break this peaceful facade the ex-brutal-dictator seems to be taking. He’s witnessed the warlord beat bots into scrap for far less… and yet… Megatron won’t. Megatron seems to be attempting to guide Breakdown, to offer a new start to their relationship, and Primus Breakdown wants nothing to do with it. He’d rather be lectured and assigned extra training.

And it takes a long while… longer than Bee’s carrying term, and a little while into Breakcheck’s sparklinghood for the Autobots to really start to come around to him. Optimus’ lectures seem to have a bit of fondness to them. And perhaps Breakdown listens a bit more earnestly and takes to heart some of the genuine advice the Prime gives him. And maybe the sparring with Elita has turned less from a one-sided fight and into an enjoyable workout. And MAYBE… he doesn’t intentionally push Megatron as much, and has come to a realization of his own that his Megatron… is nothing like the one who betrayed him… and perhaps there is more in common between them than he’d like to admit.

And when people look at him now, he’s not just the Con Bumblebee has been sneaking around with. He’s a Sire… and a devoted Conjux…

And maybe this is what he’s always wanted. And he can be deserving of it too.

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses II

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: hiii omg i cant believe so many people liked the first snippet. thank you so much, honestly, i am beyond excited. so here´s a follow up, hope youu like it <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 4k

Part I Part III Part IV

You went over to Juice and Hazel, who were in the middle of the dancefloor. Juice and you had gotten close while you dated Jax. He was easygoing, funny and nerdy, and the first of the boys to warm up to you. 

The way an older brother would, he lifted you from the floor when you hugged, ¨How are you Juicy??¨. 

He seemed genuinely happy to see you, and he gestured to Hazel when he answered, ¨I´m great. You look awesome, the fangs are hot¨.

Finally someone complimented you on the fangs, you personally though they made you look way hotter, but whatever. You´d take this win.

Your relationship with Juice had always been the kind of friendship where it feels like you´ve known each other forever, so flirty jokes had always been just that, jokes. Hazel seemed surprised at the closeness you had with him, but it made sense that you had friends there if you had dated Jax for a year and a half. 

¨While you two catch up¨, she interrupted smiling, ¨I´m going to the bathroom and to get another drink¨. That would take a while, the party now in full swing.

Juice and you had been dancing for a little while when his shirt sleeve rolled up and his bicep was visible. Before you could help yourself, your hand was on it.

¨What the fuck happened to you since I´m not around? You on steroids or something?¨ Juice laughed at that and shook his head. 

He flexed his muscles while he talked about the new work out he´d been doing, ¨You like it?¨

He kept flexing his arm, and you kept laughing and touching him. Both of you oblivious to Jax´s stare, a mix of annoyance and jealousy. Chibs wasn't obvious though, and he did what he was there for. Stir the pot. ¨You don't look too happy there, Jackie-boy¨.

Ever since he'd seen you go in, he was on edge, he didn't even know why. Okay, he did, you were gorgeous and it wasn't for him. He regretted what had happened between you, and he felt guilty, he should've stood up for you to his mom. And now you were there. But it wasn't for him, and you weren't with him. You were with Juice, admiring his muscles. And it pissed him off, of course it did. You thought you could just walk in? Not even say hello? Prance around looking that good? Flirt with one of his brothers? All of that in front of him?

Juice and you were still joking around about how girls just swooned when they saw his ¨guns¨, as he liked to call them. If Jax thought that was as bad as it got, he was wrong when a song you loved came on and you seemed determined to have Juice dance it with you. He eventually accepted and pulled you close to him by your waist,  your arms around his neck. Jax was burning holes between his brother's tats when Chibs decided to continue his quest.

¨They´re getting cozy, aren't they?¨. He could feel the scot staring, but his eyes were glued to you.

To Juice´s hands on your waist, to the space separating your bodies that seemed to be getting smaller by the second. And your face, you were laughing at something, you lit up when you laughed. The way your right hand traveled from Juice´s neck to his arm again, squeezing it teasingly. He could feel the tension in his jaw, how tight he was gripping the beer, his knuckles white. And so could his brothers. 

Then, you turned your head to look at him, your gaze uninterested and bored, and said something in Juice´s ear. That was it, you had crossed a line. Ignoring him was one thing, but that look of pure disinterest, you could not ignore what you meant to each other.

Jax was walking before he could think about it, not knowing what he was going to say when he got to you. 

Dancing and joking, Juice´s demeanor suddenly shifted, you didn't need to ask why.

¨Shit, I don't think Jax is loving this¨. He didn't stop dancing, but you could tell he was being careful. He took a step back, removed his hands from your body.

You decided not to take it seriously so you retorted, ¨Why wouldn't he like us dancing?¨

Juice chuckled, but his tone was serious, ¨Don't play innocent, you know he's jealous¨.

And you just couldn't resist a peek, was he really?, so you turned your head, very focused on keeping a neutral face, and looked at him. He did look jealous, and annoyed. You tried not to let it get to you, you tried to have a good time. 

So you made a joke, you had to get close to Juice´s ear so he could hear it, ¨Is he scared you´re gonna make a move on me or somethin´?¨

Instead of an actual answer, you saw Juice´s look of terror. Turning around, you understood why. Jax was stomping towards you, an angry look on his face.

Juice´s whisper got mixed with yours, ¨Oh, hell¨ and ¨For the love of god-¨

Jax stopped in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and Juice. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before speaking in the coldest tone you'd ever heard from him. 

¨What the hell is going on?¨. It was an easy question, with an easy answer, but you weren't feeling like taking the easy and safe route. 

Did you know he probably thought you were flirting? Yes. Did you care? No.

So, before you could think, or Juice could answer, the snarky remark was leaving your dark red lips. ¨What's it look like, genius?¨

It didn't seem possible, but his jaw clenched harder, he wasn't even looking at you. ¨It looks like you're flirtin´ with Juice, gettin´ all up on him right in front of me¨. There was something bitter about the way he answered. 

¨You think I care that you´re here? ¨. Of course you did. ¨You think I did this for your attention?¨. You hadn't, you actually hadn't. You were just trying to have some fun and ignore the hottest guy in the room. 

Jax knew you were just trying to provoke him, and it was working, but he refused to give you the satisfaction. He just hated seeing you two together, laughing and having fun while he was miserable. And maybe he also hated how damn close you had been dancing. The way you were looking at him, a challenge in your eyes. Go ahead, make a scene. He absolutely hated that he was about to.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. ¨I don't think you did it for my attention, but now you have it. So cut it out¨. 

What did he think was going to happen? You'd just agree? No, he just wasn't thinking straight anymore. 

You, of course, only challenged him further. All that was needed for that were a scoff and two words. ¨Or. What.¨

Another step closer, you could touch him if you wanted to. ¨Or you´ll find out, that's what¨. He just growled an empty threat, you both knew it. He also knew he was out of patience and you were not going to keep pushing his buttons. 

You realized something then, he had growled, and you heard him. How had you been able to hear him with all of the noise…everyone was staring at you. Well, fuck. 

¨Okay people this isn't a show, go back to the party¨. With that, you left the clubhouse, only stopping against one of the picnic tables to lay against it and breathe deeply. 

Jax´s eyes followed you, as they had through the night. He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him, this had turned into a bit of a spectacle. He let out a frustrated sigh as he followed you to the picnic table, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. 

You heard him before you saw him, and as usual around him, you spoke before you thought. ¨You did always like to be the center of attention¨. 

The snarky comment had Jax gritting his teeth, his anger flaring up again. He did not speak, however, until he was standing in front of you, arms crossed over his broad chest. 

¨I don't know what the hell your deal is tonight, but you´re really pushing my buttons, you know that?¨.

To that, you only shrugged, looking at him coldly. ¨My deal is I just wanted to have some fun¨.

Maybe looking at him had been a mistake, if he had looked good from afar, he looked even better right in front of you, illuminated only by the streetlamps. He was wearing what he always wore, and still he had never looked better in jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. Your face did not show any of that obviously, it was neutral. He could tell you were angry though. But you could tell that so was he, so you were in a tie. 

Fun, that was what you were calling it? He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. ¨Yeah, real fun. Gettin´ all cozy with Juice, practically making´ out with him in front of me. That your idea of fun?¨.

You bit your lip, trying not to lose it on him, the fake fangs drawing his attention. ¨So, let's see if I got this right¨. You put all the poison you could in your words, hoping they stung as much as seeing him again did. ¨You´re mad I danced with Juice, whose attention was on me, as opposed to dancing with you¨. You poked his chest before continuing, ¨who didn't even say ¨hi¨ when I walked in?¨ 

He felt a pang in his chest at that, you were right, he´d been so caught up in his anger and jealousy that he hadn't even considered how he had ignored you up until that point. Jax looked away for a moment, a flash of guilt in his eyes. 

¨I didn´t-¨ He started to defend himself, but cut himself off, you were right. Instead he let out a frustrated huff.

¨Yeah, that's what I thought¨ You let a beat of silence pass, then looked at him again. Fuck he looked good.

¨Got a smoke?¨. You needed something to do with your hands.

Jax looked confused for a second, his eyes scanning your face, staying on your lips for a second too long. He was still mad at you, but he obliged. ¨Yeah¨.

He patted down his pockets until he found a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he handed it to you with his lighter. You only took the first, bringing your hand up as you asked, ¨Light me?¨.

His pulse quickened at the simple request, something about the way you said it. A bolt of desire went down his spine. Something in him wanted to challenge you, so instead of just lighting it, he took the cigarette from your fingers and placed it between your lips, lightly brushing them. You made an effort to not show the way he affected you. Jax then leaned in closer, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand, not touching you. Your eyes were locked in on his, the intensity of the moment almost unbearable. The fire made his eyes sparkle, you got lost in them. 

His gaze was still fixed on yours as you took the first drag, his face so close to yours he could almost feel your breath on his lips. The intimacy made his heart race, his anger slowly fading into the background. Your anger also became less and less prominent, upstaged by a complexity of feelings. 

Jax grabbed the cigarette from you and took a drag of his own, never breaking eye contact. The air between you was electric, crackling with tension. Having him so close made it hard to breathe. He blew the smoke, you felt it on the tip of your nose before it was blown away by the wind. His blue eyes were relentless, never breaking from you, not as he took another drag, and not as your hand searched for his to grab the cigarette. The tension growing thicker by the second. Jax was very aware of how close he was to you, how easily he could just touch you if he wanted to. And boy did he want to. 

He watched you smoke, and you watched him. Until your eyes focused on the cigarette instead of his blue ones. You followed the lipstick stained cig, and then your eyes stayed locked onto his lips.

They wrapped around the end of the cigarette, closing while he held the smoke in, and finally parted to let the smoke out. Jax could feel your gaze on his lips, it made his stomach clench with desire. 

He took another drag, slowl and deliberate, his lips closing around the cigarette in a way that was almost sinful. To top it off, he let out a low hum, eyes never leaving yours even if you were not looking back at him, mesmerized by his lips.

He was fully aware of the effect he had on you. And you both knew it. You cursed him mentally when you realized he was doing it on purpose.

When he hummed? That was straight up mean, and this time the curse came muttered under your breath, ¨Fuck-¨.

Jax smirked at your cursed response, his ego inflating. He could tell he was riling you up, and he was loving every second of it. 

¨What was that, baby?¨. His voice was low and dripping with false innocence. And using baby so casually, like he would while you were together? None of it was accidental.

He took another drag, this time watching you with a wolfish smile playing on his lips. You couldn't let him win.

Your hand went up to his face, sneaking the cigarette from him and taking it to your own lips. You exhaled the smoke in his face, lips almost brushing his. 

¨Didn't say anything¨, you played along with his innocence, replicating it.

Jax´s heart skipped a beat when your hand snatched the cigarette from his mouth. He could feel your breath on his skin when your lips came so enticingly close to his. The innocent facade only making it harder not to close the space between you. But he knew it was only an act. One he wasn't buying.

He chuckled lowly, ¨Yeah, sure you didn´t¨. His eyes fell to your lips again. Your gaze was fixed on his eyes, the hungry look in them making it harder to think of a comeback. 

You did what you could, taking a drag, hoping it would distract you, it didn't. ¨Yeah, sure I didn´t¨.

Had it been the smartest thing to say? No, but it was the best you could come up with, so it would have to do. You had to up your game, he couldn't win. Jax  found your teasing infuriating, hot, yes, but infuriating.

He was on edge, trying to keep his thoughts in check each time your lips wrapped around the cig. The need inside him to kiss you senseless was overwhelming, clouding his brain. 

¨You're such a damn tease¨, he growled, ¨you know that?¨.

To say that the growl had made your knees weak would be an understanding, you had to bring it up a notch too. It was only fair. 

Your reply could only be considered a purr, rather than actual talking. ¨Don´t know what you´re talking about¨.

His body ached to touch you, he gritted his teeth, wanting to kiss you until you couldn't breathe. Hell he wanted to kiss you until you couldn't remember your own damn name. The next time he talked you could hear the desire dripping in his rough voice, ¨God damnit, darlin´¨.

You liked the effect that had had on him, so you purred again, this time closer to his ear. ¨What is it, baby?¨ .

You hadn't meant to call him baby, it slipped, you got too lost in the heat of the moment.Had you not been so distracted, you'd realize the importance of what you had just said, the major step back you'd taken in getting over him. And his beautiful blue eyes. And his perfect lips. But he didn't give you time to think about all of that because his eyes darkened, his body stiffened by the tension. The sultry purr, calling him baby, you made him want to show you how much he'd missed you. 

¨You know damn well what you're doing to me¨, the desire was mixed with a bit of a warning. It did nothing to scare you off.

Using the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette, you pulled him closer by his belt loop, all caution thrown to the wind. 

¨Remember when we used to smoke together? Blowing the smoke into each others mouths?¨. You sensed him nod, watching him clench his jaw.

The reminder of those memories felt like a punch to his gut, your mouths touching, feeling your breath against him, the taste of your kisses, ...Jax felt like he was drowning.

His hands came to rest on your hips and his voice was barely a rough whisper, ¨Yeah, I remember¨.

You hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you, yours now resting on his abs,¨Havent done it in a long time, have you?¨.

You could feel him tensing under your hand, fingers caressing his skin over the white cloth. His mind was spiraling, it had been so long since he felt your touch, he wanted more. Jax tried to pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at your eyes. 

His husky voice broke the silence, ¨No¨, and hesitantly, he added, ¨Not since you¨.

The hold on your hips got harsher, keeping you steady against his body. It made you press your legs together, and even worse, it pulled a groan from your throat. The fact that he hadn't done it with anyone else held significance, it felt like it was yours. It´s what you used to do whenever your screaming matches reached a dead end. You´d share a cigarette, and it always led to this, which always led to bed. Or a couch. Or wherever. Even the pool table once.

Your legs pressing together did not go unnoticed, igniting in him the urge to pin you against the picnic table and take care of it himself. But he needed to keep some semblance of control, even if it was slipping further and further away. What he did was lean in closer, pressing himself against your body, his mouth so close to your ear you felt his beard scratch it. 

But you couldn´t just let him have this, you needed to take control over your body. Okay, maybe taking control was an exaggeration. Regaining an inch of self restraint, you whispered in his ear, ¨Wanna do it again? For old times sake?¨.

Jax´s breath hitched as your breath ghosted over his ear, it took him a few seconds to understand what you said. And when he finally did, a shiver ghosted down his spine. His eyes fell closed as he tried to fight the desire inside him, the want to do very ungentlemanly things to you against that table. When had he even been a gentleman? His blue eyes opened, looking at you, sending sparks though your whole body. 

They were burning with desire, just like his raspy voice. ¨Fuck yeah, I do¨.

You were not brave enough to do anything, scared that your hands would tremble or your voice would shake. It wasn't a problem, Jax took the cigarette from your hand, letting his knuckles graze your fingers. Your touch against his abs was driving him crazy. So did your smell. And so did your eyes, which were locked on his lips. The heat of your body, even if it was a chilly october night, made his mind travel to dark places. He took a slow drag. 

¨Open up¨, his voice was raspier now that he was holding the smoke in his lungs. 

Your lips parted on their own accord, your head moving closer. That made Jax hum, itching to close the space between your mouths. His next command came right before he exhaled, barely giving you time to react, ¨Inhale¨. So you just obeyed, lips barely touching his. 

That graze sent a wave of heat through his body. Every little detail, from the way the smoke curled around your nose to your hand tracing patterns on his abs, was more overwhelming than the last. It was a hard fight against himself, against the crippling desire to fuck you right then and there. The anticipation though, was making the moment hotter and hotter.

Your self awareness, the little voice screaming don´t do this, seemed to have disappeared with your self-esteem when he next ordered: ¨Hold it in¨.

You almost moaned, his dominant side had always had that effect on you. Your hand moved to his waist, needing somewhere to hold on to before your knees gave out. 

Your hand clutching his waist, that brought back memories. Way more naked memories. Your body pressed against his. He was sure you could feel how hard he was against your thigh. And you could. It was distracting. You felt his arm move up again, but your eyes did not move from his. 

Jax got closer as he spoke, his lips now millimeters from yours, ¨Ready?¨ . You could taste the smoke as you exhaled. 

Then, your mind managing to work for a short second, you realized what he´d asked. What did he mean by ready?.

¨Another one?¨.

Jax seemed to be a second away from tearing your dress off when he answered, ¨Yeah…another one¨. That look in his eyes made realize, it was a challenge, he was challenging you, the stubborn bastard. And this was a fight you were not losing.

So as the cigarette came closer to his lips again, you snatched it, ¨My turn¨.

He could hear it in your voice, you were fighting a losing battle, so was he. The idea of throwing the towel, though, seemed appealing and terrifying at the same time. The only answers you got were a groan and a rub of his impossibly hard dick against your soft thigh.

You didn't realize you had moaned until he mocked you for it, ¨You need to keep it together baby¨, then his head moved lower as he bit your earlobe, ¨We haven't even started yet¨. 

His sass, as much as it bothered you, was hardly enough to keep you from crashing your lips with his. But he pulled away, his voice dripping sex and cockiness, ¨Show me what you got¨, nodding to the cig in your hand. And you had no choice but to obey. 

So you took a long drag, hoping it would distract you from the ache between your legs. It didn't. Moving the hand from his waist to his face, you caressed his lower lip and decided to throw his words back at him. 

¨Open up¨. You sounded way more confident than you were expecting, or felt for that matter. You could tell it had bothered him, good . That's not all it did, it caused him to hum. And as he parted his lips, his tongue darted out and licked your thumb. You shakingly exhaled the smoke, wondering how much more you could take. 

Jax did not need your instructions, closing the gap between you and inhaling the smoke, not pulling away even after he let the smoke out, you were breathing the same air. He somehow got closer, one of his hands steady on your hip as the other moved up, finally setting on the back of your head. His fingers traced patterns on your nape, sending shivers down your spine.

Your mind was no longer yours as you slowly licked his lower lip. His lips parting a second later, but he didn´t give in. Lucky for him, you didnt give a fuck anymore. Using the hand on his cheek, you pulled him closer and kissed him, your tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance. Fuck. It was somehow better than you remembered. And you couldn't get enough, his lips tasted like smoke and addiction. 

Life never made it easy for you as the clubhouse door flew open, breaking the moment, shedding light and noise on you. On your compromising position. 

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello again !!

Because I love your work I'm here again...

So, I was thinking about little dark g!p Donna x fem reader, and like reader live in village her whole life, and one day she went to the church yk, and Donna can't keep her eyes off her, she literally fell in love with her, so Donna was insecure about herself so she just watch her, admire her (stalk) from afar... One day she gets hurt somehow so Donna save her, offer her a new home....

After some time, they became really close, but donna's feelings just became more stronger so she started giving her a small poets to express her love, and when y/n mention she's in love with someone, Donna lose her mind thinking her only true love, love someone else so she's just distance herself.

Y/n notice, so she tried to talk about it with Donna, and then Donna just crush out and say something like "DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND I CANT IMAGINE LIFE WITHOUT YOU"

and theeen they kisssss, and Donna ping y/n against a wall yk what I mean💋

SORRY IF THIS IS COMPLICATED, ALSO I HOPE U UNDERSTAND, I AM STILL TRYING TO IMPROVE MY ENGLISH

Also A little late but happy birthday to you !

Yess!!! Hello again, friend :D!!! Thank you for your request and words!! You're so kind!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

A dark angel

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, dark Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 8,693

Summary: I love her, but she'll never be mine...

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

Always the same prayers, the same gestures…

My siblings and I remained silent behind the shadow of the woman who gave us a second chance without asking our permission.

Lords, protectors, monsters… The ways those villagers called us repeated themselves in my head like terrifying whispers. I never liked people, I never liked company.

No matter how hard I tried to force myself to believe that something had changed after Mother Miranda's intervention, I was only fooling myself.

Despite being Lord, gaining terrifying powers, eternal life, and being embraced by the infinite kindness of the black priestess, I never felt different. Before, I was Donna Beneviento, the only surviving daughter of a noble family who had lost her mind; now I was Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, doll, and nightmare maker.

I knew what people said about me, the fear my presence generated, the doubts in their eyes when they looked at me, when they saw the black veil covering my shame. They said I was a monster, and no matter how many times I looked in the mirror, the scar on my face spoke for itself.

Maybe my sick mind found some pleasure in the change, thinking that Mother Miranda's divine intervention was a good thing, something that would allow me to stop being that sad and lonely woman, but I was wrong.

Perhaps it would have been better if the priestess had let me die that day; at least that way, I could be with my family again, with my little sister. But the Gods had other plans for me. They played on my insecurities, changed my body at will, but, again, I couldn't complain; I had a new family.

Being Lady Beneviento really wasn't so bad. I had everything I wanted, even though I never asked for it. My doll Angie came to life, and I had the power to play with mortals if I got bored.

But something inside my head begged, pleaded for something more, something to end this eternal loneliness.

“Well, my children, before we return to our duties, there was someone who wanted to make an announcement, isn't that right?” Mother Miranda's different tone brought me out of my thoughts.

The sound of footsteps on the altar was the signal I was waiting for to leave that place and return to my quiet, solitary routine, but something stopped me, something prevented my legs from moving.

“Yes. Thank you, Mother Miranda,” a sweet voice penetrated my ears and made me turn my head sharply with curiosity.

“Mm,” the priestess murmured, stepping back a little to allow me to see where that heavenly voice was coming from.

One step, two... Little by little, something rose toward the altar, something that... was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

A young woman, no more than twenty years old, stood in the middle of the place, allowing me to see, something that kept me standing still, frozen: her face, her hair, a nervous look... Something beautiful, truly beautiful.

Her dress moved with her steps, and hands that seemed tremendously soft played nervously. A beautiful girl, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, stood inches away from me.

I didn't know every single villager, but... how could I not realize that such incredible beauty existed? My mind began to study her delicate body, the perfume emanating from her hair, her bright, dazzling eyes…

 “Well, you know me, I'm (Y/N),” the young girl began, causing my mind to process her name, dazzling with her gentle words. “I just wanted to announce that I finally have enough materials to start my artisanal tea business,” she explained, the trembling of her hands betraying her shyness.

After the silent approval of the rest of the villagers, the girl took a small tea bag out of her pocket, waving it playfully.

“Um… it took me a long time to get everything I needed, and I hope you all can enjoy it,” she continued, but I was no longer listening.

My eyes studied every curve of her body, her chest. My hands longed to caress that silky mane, my ears longed to hear her voice every day, every hour, every minute, every second.

Everything blurred around me, except for her, an angel in the darkness, beauty standing out among the monsters.

A cold draft made me shake my head slightly and frown. My body felt light and my hands empty. When I woke from that little reverie, I realized the problem.

“Oh, tell me, silly, do you give away free samples?” a familiar voice said, my doll Angie, who, surely taking advantage of my absentmindedness, jumped out of my arms and ran toward the girl, snatching the tea bag she was waving.

I grew nervous, walking quickly toward the puppet, who laughed amusedly while the young woman backed away in fear.

“Look, Donna, look what I have,” Angie said, running towards me again, proudly displaying her trophy.

“Angie, give it back to her,” I whispered, picking up the tea and making a show of giving it back, hiding the trembling in my own hands.

“Oh no, well...” she said, looking directly at me with a fake, nervous, scared smile. “Please keep it, my lady.” Her hands traveled to mine, gently pushing them against my chest.

Her touch frightened me, causing me to push that softness away from my hands with a gasp. Her fingers burned against my skin, teasingly tickling my body. I couldn't bear it with fortitude. I was scared. I was scared to have her so close to me, to feel her skin against mine.

“I'm sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, taking a step back, confused by my attitude, or perhaps scared to know who she had touched.

I glanced at the small bag trembling in my hands, and with no other choice, I nodded imperceptibly, finally stepping down from the altar, unable to avoid giving that beautiful girl one last look.

Despite Angie commenting on every detail of the mass, as always, the walk back to the mansion was silent for me. My doll's voice didn't reach my ears; my senses were too busy remembering, re-forming (Y/N)'s image in my mind.

“Hey, silly Donna! Are you listening to me?” the doll asked as I set her down on the floor, finally reaching the safety of my old mansion. “Donna!”

“Silenzio,” I ordered with a growl, pushing the veil away from my face. “Will you be quiet for a moment?”

“Quiet? You silly Donna...” the doll hissed, making me glance at her briefly in reprimand.

Nothing, I didn't want anything, or anyone to stop my mind from thinking about her, that tea girl.

Sighing, I sank into a dining room chair, the tea bag in my hands. I brought it to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent of wild berries, bringing an involuntary smile to my face. She smelled the same; it was like holding her in my hands.

“You're welcome for the free sample,” Angie mocked, climbing onto the table and observing my strange behavior.

“She was beautiful...” I sighed unwillingly, smiling like a little girl, closing my eye to remember the sparkle in hers, her every gesture.

“Mm? What? What are you talking about?” the doll asked, comically tilting her head and gesturing with her hands. “Uh, Donna, ciao, ciao...”

“Ugh, I mean her,” I whispered, moving the bag in my hands, feeling the touch, imagining that those soft fingers had been in the same place. “T-The tea girl...”

“Oh, that silly village girl,” the puppet laughed sinisterly. “It was fun scaring her a little, wasn't it?”

“No, Angie, you shouldn't scare people,” I stammered, blinking erratically, confused by my reaction. “Not her.”

“Uh-Oh...” Angie murmured, moving a little closer to me. “Donna, Donna... you like her, don't you?”

“No, I...” I said awkwardly in my defense. “W-Well, she's beautiful, don't you think?”

“I don't know. I'm just a doll, and you're a fool,” she scolded, pointing at me with a wooden finger. “How can you like her? You barely knew she existed.”

“I don't know, but... she's so beautiful,” I sighed, resting my head on one hand, staring at the ceiling, like a child in love, my heart beating too fast. “She has a beautiful voice and...”

“Uh, uh, uh,” Angie interrupted, gesturing with her hands. “Stop, Donna, you're rambling, she's just another village girl.”

I shook my head, suffering an attack of rationality in my mind, as if I had woken from a deep sleep.

“Certo,” I finally said, standing up slowly. “You're right, Angie, it's nonsense.”

“Listen to your favorite doll, you know she's always right,” Angie emphasized, giving me a mocking pat on the back. “Maybe you need some company... why don't you call Alcina? You know she always has a maid for you...”

Angie's suggestion was always an easy way to forget, to let off steam, to feel falsely loved for a moment, a feeling that disappeared too soon, but it worked at least to soothe my needs.

But on that occasion, I found it repugnant, undignified. No, there was no maid in the castle as beautiful as the tea girl; none had that sweet voice, that dazzling gaze.

“No, I don't feel like it,” I said, frowning and shaking my head.

“As you wish,” Angie said, stepping down from the table with a gesture of indifference.

“I think I'll make some tea,” I said with a different, animated smile.

I longed to try that infusion, to know what that young woman from the church was capable of, if her products had the same beauty, the same harmony as her.

The sweet and bitter taste of the tea ran down my throat like a love potion, like a heavenly ambrosia that transported me back to her. In the dregs, I could see her smile, her gaze, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

My mind was unable to calm down when something disturbed it. My illness made me hear voices, wails, words of love that didn't exist.

I thought maybe those thoughts would disappear with time, just like when a maid pretended to be affectionate with me and I believed I might have a chance.

I'd stopped thinking that way years ago, resigned myself to loving and being loved in the same way, but I knew the feeling, the trembling of my hands when I thought of her, the smile that involuntarily formed on my lips when I remembered her.

I couldn't forget her. I couldn't stop thinking about her, about the taste of her tea. My body began to miss the sweetness of wild berries, pushing me to crave, to desperately crave that warmth running down my throat again.

Of course, I knew what my body wanted, and it wasn't tea. I wasn't interested in that liquid; I was interested in (Y/N), and I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop the sight of her eyes appearing in every doll I made, the struggle of my mind to capture her beauty in my creations so I'd never forget her.

Hardly aware of it, the obsession began to play tricks on me.

Some nights I would let myself go, relaxing with the slow, gentle touch of my hands as I closed my eye or just looked through some old clothing catalog.

The rosy-cheeked models posing there seemed to be moving, their hands replacing mine as they slowly stimulated my penis in the solitude of my bedroom.

But the made-up smiles of those girls distorted as my arousal grew and my breathing quickened. The polished nails of the hands I imagined surrounding my erection dissolved like dust, changing completely.

“Cazzo...” I protested as my mind began to form new images in my head: new hands, a new smile looking down at me, whispering to me, masturbating me.

I even thought I could smell the tea as my panting increased. It was her, the girl from the church, moving her hand up and down my body, maintaining a frantic rhythm that made me squirm. Those eyes looked at me, that sweet voice whispered words of love, of desire…

I wanted to stop, I wanted to free my mind from that impossible image, to return to the fantasies of the girls in the catalog, but I couldn't. I groaned, I protested, but I couldn't shake the shivers that ran down my spine, feeling that the end was irrevocably closer.

Finally, I released myself into my hand, feeling the wet heat of my seed on my skin, dripping through my fingers. I opened my eye, trying to catch my breath, and for a moment, just for a moment, I thought I saw her, (Y/N), in front of me, biting her lip, moaning, writhing.

Shaking my head, I got out of bed, going to the bathroom to wash the remnants of my undignified release from my hands, and the remnants of my thoughts about her from my mind. The cold water cleared my mind, but my gaze in the mirror spoke for itself.

Images of that tea girl beneath my body appeared next to my deformed face, invisible moans echoed off the walls, and my mind began to wonder, to think about what it would be like to make something so beautiful mine.

“How disgusting,” a shrill voice distracted me from my fantasies. Of course, Angie always appeared at the worst possible moment. “Are you finished? I wish I could go to sleep.”

“You can't sleep,” I whispered, clearing my throat and drying my hands, ignoring the doll. “Lasciami, Angie”

“Oh, sorry, Your Majesty,” she continued mockingly, following me back into the bedroom. “What's wrong with you? You've been acting really weird lately. Weirder than usual, I mean.”

“Weird? Me? I don't know why you're saying that,” I protested, plopping down on my desecrated bed, followed closely by my irreverent doll.

“You don't have to say anything. I know everything, remember?” Angie said, sitting uncomfortably next to me, her eyes scrutinizing me, as if I should feel guilty about something. “It's that girl again. You’re obsessed...”

“What do you care?” I asked, offended, annoyed to admit that, once again, she was right.

“I don't care,” she replied, crossing her arms. “But I think you're an idiot.”

“Va bene, lasciami estare,” I hissed, turning off the dim light in the room, trying to ignore Angie's voices, and the ones in my head. “Ugh, Angie...” I protested again when the doll turned the small lamp back on.

“Hey, if you like that girl so much, why don't you do something about it?” she suggested, involuntarily capturing my attention.

“Cosa?” I asked, sitting up in bed and bringing my knees to my chest. “I-I can't do anything.”

“Of course you can. She's still a silly village girl, and you're a lord, remember?” the doll said in a mocking tone, making me sigh thoughtfully.

“Th-That doesn't mean anything,” I murmured, feeling a wave of sadness over me.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course! Look at me!” I shouted furiously, irrationally, pointing at my deformed face, the face of a monster. “What chance does a freak like me have?! She's beautiful, and I'm... a... a... a...”

“Okay, shut up,” the puppet ordered me.

“Angie, you're trying my patience too hard,” I threatened in a dark tone, something that, of course, didn't bother the doll in the least.

“Fine, whatever you want, keep playing with your little thing and feeling sorry for yourself, you bore me, silly Donna,” Angie sighed, getting out of bed, ready to abandon me.

“Angie...” I sobbed, starting to feel really bad, a feeling of frustration rushing over me without warning. “I'm not okay.”

“What a surprise.”

“I see her everywhere... I... dream about her, I imagine her while...” I began to confess, giving in to my irrational feelings. “I feel her, I smell the scent of her tea every second, I... I can't get her smile out of my head...”

“Then do something,” the doll said indifferently, climbing back into bed.

“N-No... I can't, I don't dare to,” I admitted cowardly, hiding my face between my knees. “I've never...”

“Who said you have to dare?”

“Cosa vuoi dire?” I asked, confused.

“I mean... well, why settle for seeing her in your thoughts when you can do it in reality?” Angie explained, leaving me even more lost.

“You mean... watching her?” I asked again, frowning and looking away. “That's not...”

“Not, what?” the doll insisted, moving closer to me, placing her wooden hands on my shoulders. “That silly girl is still a villager, it's not like she's out of your reach...”

“What are you implying?”

“I'm not implying anything. I'm just telling you what to do,” she said in a supple, haughty tone. “And you know I always give you good advice.”

“So, what do you think I should do?” I asked impatiently, crossing my arms.

“What you do best, dear Donna, lurk in the shadows...”

Angie's advice seemed childish. Lurk in the shadows? Stalk (Y/N)? Watch her? How stupid.

At least that's what I thought for a few insignificant minutes. Then, I began to see some clarity in her words. I could try with all my might, but that girl would never feel anything for me, I knew that well. No one had ever felt anything for me, at least not something they weren't forced to pretend.

The idea of ​​romance, of having someone to love, someone who would love me, sounded great, but as time passed, I began to forget it, to feel like it wasn't meant for me, that I didn't have the right to experience true love. My deformity, my different body, kept me from being a normal woman, someone a girl like (Y/N) would want to meet.

I knew it from the moment I was entranced by her gaze, by her smile. I could only imagine her, admire her from afar, never in any other way. Angie could be many things, but above all, she was a part of me, a part of my consciousness that I separated from my body, thanks to the Gods.

The idea seemed dark, but the more I thought about it, the more light illuminated my mind. Yes, the only thing I could do was not to forget her, strive to get to know her without her knowing, observe her movements in the darkness, hidden.

I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to know what she liked, the things she hated and loved, how she walked, how she spoke, how she dressed, how she lived. The obsession didn't improve—quite the opposite—but I know it was only my fault.

Every day I walked towards the village, hiding from the gaze of others, from their shining eyes. I felt safe in the shadows.

I learned a lot from you, you know?

I knew that (Y/N) liked to sew, I knew what books she read, what face she had when she fell asleep by the warmth of a small fireplace. The smell of that delicious tea accompanied me in my observations, and my fantasies turned into increasingly vivid dreams.

I knew her routine, the small shop where she sold her tea, the exact steps from her house to her work. I began to lose my mind. Sheets of old paper began to fill with notes about (Y/N). I didn't want to forget every discovery, every new aspect I saw in her.

I thought I knew her, but it was only an illusion. My hidden body deeply longed to be discovered, longed for those beautiful eyes to look at me, but it never happened. I didn't want to be seen, I didn't want her to see the figure peering through her window, the ghost of the woman who haunted her without her knowing.

My conscience would attack me from time to time, making me feel guilty for chasing her, for harassing her. But then she would appear, dispelling any doubts with her kind smile, her polite, somewhat shy voice.

I had to feel bad, but I was unable to.

The nights were even worse. I stopped visiting the castle maids and their false, cold warmth, starting to enjoy my memories, my imagination. Thinking of her, of her hands touching me, of her body embracing mine, making her mine, was enough to calm my impulses.

But the more I did it, the worse I felt. I felt like those hands would never surround me, that the warmth of her naked body would never come close to mine, that her lips would never kiss me.

I had to acknowledge reality, but I couldn't. The crises changed. I no longer lamented my pathetic existence, but my inability to approach that girl without trembling, to do anything other than stalk her or lurk in the shadows.

It was unbearable, but it was an addiction I couldn't break.

Spying, studying, observing, thinking, imagining, touching myself, ejaculating, sleeping, and repeating, became a painful and inevitable routine that stretched on for too long.

“Che bella sei...” I murmured, watching your smile as (Y/N) attended the villagers, the gestures she made.

“Uhg,” Angie protested, turning away with a tired sigh. “Donna, I'm starting to get tired of this.”

“Your smile is beautiful...” I sighed again, dazzled by her beauty, blushing as I hid behind some trees. “Ti amo, (Y/N)...”

“Okay, okay, enough,” the doll interrupted, standing in front of my field of vision, obscuring her image. “Donna, basta.”

“Get out of the way, I can't see her,” I protested, gently slapping the doll and positioning myself on that distant bench.

“What? Are you hard already? Are you going to take it out and jerk it off out here? ” Angie said in a nasty tone, forcing me to tear my gaze away from (Y/N)'s beauty and growl at my friend.

“Ma che volgare, Angie,” I snapped, disgusted by her hurtful insinuations. “What's that about?”

“Donna, I'm sick of coming here day after day to stare at that silly girl and watch you lose your mind,” she said, climbing onto my lap with an authoritarian pose. “You're pathetic.”

“What? Take that back,” I threatened, pushing her off my body, starting to get dangerously nervous. “Take it back...” I growled darkly, standing up.

“Never,” the doll sighed, unfazed by my attitude. “Stupida”

“Non...” I hissed, my breathing becoming dangerously faster. No, I couldn't argue with the doll so close to her; she'd see us, everyone would notice. “Cavolo, Angie, this was your idea.”

“Yes, I thought you'd calm down a bit,” she replied, gesturing indifferently. “But I can see you haven't. You're losing your mind, much more than usual.”

“So what do you want me to do? I... I love her...” I said in a softer, submissive tone, sinking back onto the bench. “I can't do anything but admire her from afar, dream that one day she could be mine and...”

“Wake up, silly Donna,” the puppet interrupted, climbing into my lap and smacking me on the head, making me groan again. “Stop fooling around and act at once.”

“I've already told you, Angie, there's no way she'll notice someone like me, much less love me,” I sighed, on the verge of sobbing, feeling the fabric of my black veil dampen with my tears.

“That's nonsense,” the doll replied, shaking her head. “You're a lord, remember? You don't need her to love you.”

“I don't like what you're implying,” I whispered, confused, but knowing what her intentions were.

“Fine, but you have no choice,” she said, comically crossing her arms. “You can have whatever you want, Donna, whoever you want. She's just a simple villager; you shouldn't care about her feelings. You want it? Then take it.”

“Do you want me to kidnap her?” I asked, thoughtfully. “Th-That's not romantic at all. I don't think...”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes, of course I do,” I replied, nodding, nerves running through my body. “I love her more than anything.”

“Then take her, make her yours, she can't say no. You're her owner,” the doll finished, getting off my lap and pointing at the store. “You'd like it, wouldn't you? For her to kiss you, to caress you, to feel her close to you...”

I just nodded, imagining it all in my mind, what it would be like, how it could be so real and no longer be a fantasy. A sinister smile spread across my face.

“Yes, I would like it.”

“Then do it, silly Donna, take that stupid girl with you. She won't be able to refuse. You could make her suck you off whenever you want and...”

“Angie, please, don't... don't make it look dirty. I-I want to be romantic, to love and take care of her... She couldn't refuse me, could she? I could make her truly love me...” I rambled, slowly getting up, playing with my hands, which, for some reason, were starting to sweat.

“Oh, yes, of course, dear Donna, she'd be yours and only yours. You just have to... well, take her. Easy peasy, right?”

“Yes...” I sighed, my gaze fixed on the snow, drowning out the images of (Y/N)'s screams as I kidnapped her against her will. Those screams would turn into moans, I was sure of it. “But... but how do we do it?”

“Follow me. I have a plan,” Angie said, walking closer to the store, too close.

“Angie, what...?” I asked as I followed her, not realizing I'd already entered the artisan shop, and had found something beautiful, her gaze upon mine.

“My lady,” (Y/N) said, giving a small bow without taking her gaze from mine. “I was waiting for you to come.”

“D-davvero?” I stammered unconsciously. I think she heard me, because she frowned, confused.

“I'm sorry, but... I don't understand you,” she said kindly, without removing that smile from her face. “Was that Italian? Gods, I had no idea you...”

I knew that smile.

“Yes, yes, yes, whatever you say, silly girl,” Angie interrupted, comically climbing up onto the counter. “You were waiting for us, huh?”

“Um, well… I remember that I offered you some of my tea, and I was worried.”

“You were worried,” I sighed, my voice imperceptible to her until I cleared my throat. “Perché?”

“Um... well,” (Y/N) stammered, visibly nervous. “The truth is, I was worried that my tea wouldn't be to your liking, Lady Beneviento.”

“The tea was fine, or so Donna says,” Angie said, amused, fussing with the things on the counter.

“I'm glad to hear that, my... lady,” the girl murmured, still nervous, with that tremble in her voice that betrayed a certain fear of my presence.

You'll be more afraid, little bird.

“Oh, um... are you interested in buying something? Don't worry, I have special prices for distinguished customers.” Her merchant's tone pierced my ears, detecting a hint of falseness, of discomfort.

“Yes, yes... tell me, silly, where do you get your herbs?” the puppet interrupted again, discreetly gesturing for me to let her speak.

“Well, the wild plants here offer a lot of possibilities, but I'm afraid there isn't much variety,” (Y/N) explained, while Angie studied the tea bags.

“I see... that's because you haven't ventured into the western forest, huh?” Angie continued, while I marveled at her gaze.

“Mm, no, well... that's your territory, isn't it, Lady Beneviento?” she asked me in a doubtful tone, to which I nodded elegantly. “I wouldn't want to trespass on your property, my lady.”

“Nonsense,” Angie said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. “Donna wouldn't mind you gathering some herbs to continue making that delicious tea, would you, Donna?”

“Mm,” I murmured, beginning to understand the doll's plan. She was certainly clever, too clever.

“Oh, well... I appreciate it because I was starting to have stock issues and... if... if that's okay with you... I'll stop by there, I'll try not to disturb you.”

“Va bene,” I said formally, hiding the trembling in my hands as I turned around. “I'll take four bags.”

“Perfect... thank you, thank you very much, my lady.”

It certainly seemed like a good plan. She'd just have to come to me, to my territory. Once she crossed the bridge, it would be the end, and my beginning. I resisted doing it, but I had to admit Angie had a great idea.

I just had to wait for that little bird to fall into my net.

“There she is,” I said, excited to see (Y/N) appear out of the snow after a long few days of waiting.

“Yeah, I see,” the doll said as we hid behind an old wall. “Okay, we just have to wait until she's distracted and... boom! You'd have that pussy just for you.”

“Angie...” I hissed at that vulgarity, and the sinister laugh that accompanied it. “I told you to not to talk about her like that. She'd be my girlfriend, not a whore, do you understand?”

“Whatever," the doll whispered. “Look, she turned around... she looks scared.”

“I'm not surprised,” I sighed, a pang of sadness in my chest.

Could she really love me? Could I force her to do it? I was desperate; I couldn't do anything else. She'd be mine, no matter what.

(Y/N) walked slowly, cautiously, probably afraid of the rumors circulating about me in the village, about how dangerous it was to enter my territory and the high probability of never returning.

After a sigh, seeing that there was no danger, the young woman began to examine the bushes there, looking for herbs for her tea, wild plants that I knew didn't exist, at least not in the way she thought, or Angie made her think.

“Now,” I growled, emerging from my hiding place and clenching my fists as Angie followed close behind, laughing sinisterly. “You're mine now...”

I walked slowly toward the girl, who seemed quite distracted, vulnerable. My mouth watered, imagining all the things we would do, how much we would love each other, everything I had planned for my girlfriend, my wife, my eternal lover.

But suddenly, (Y/N) gasped in fear.

I stopped, thinking maybe I'd given myself away, that she'd heard me.

No, don't run away, little one, don't run away from me...

I blinked in relief to see her gaze directed not at where I was standing, but in the opposite direction. Her legs moved, starting to back away, and a growl began to echo through the snowy forest.

One of Moreau's hideous creatures emerged from the trees, one ironically named Vârcolac, the local term for "werewolf." It was a deformed, rabid dog that was slowly approaching the young woman.

All my senses were on alert, but when I started to run, it was too late.

A scream of pain was the next thing I heard. That ferocious beast had pounced on (Y/N), its teeth sinking into the skin of her arm, causing her beautiful blood to spill into the snow.

I rushed forward as fast as I could, rabid, snarling with rage. No, that beast couldn't take her away from me; she was mine.

“Basta!” I shrieked furiously, standing in front of the creature, which released the arm of the young woman, who was crying in terror. “Go away!”

I knew the influence we had on those creatures; I expected obedience, and I got it. But no, it wasn't enough. That thing had hurt my beloved, and it would have to pay. The rabid dog began to whimper, to cry in suffering as I focused on making it pay.

“Gods...” (Y/N) whispered, pulling away, dragging herself through the snow with her injured arm. “Gods...”

Hearing her addictive voice, I stopped, leaving the Vârcolac alone, which fled with agonized wails, never to return.

“(Y/N)… are you okay?” I asked, crouching down next to the young woman. “Cavolo, what was that thing doing here?” As I asked, I looked at Angie, who just shrugged.

“M-My arm,” (Y/N) stammered, holding her wound. “It hurts,” she complained, writhing in pain.

“Relax, you're safe now,” I whispered, unable to believe what had just happened, soothing (Y/N)'s pain with my powers, making her gaze relax before she fainted. “You're with me now…”

Those were my last words before picking her up and taking her home, to her new home.

Healing her was simple, but watching her sleep… it was complicated. My body was asking me to do things I'm ashamed of, but luckily, I was stronger than my impulses. I treated and washed her wound while whispering words of love to her, knowing she couldn't hear me.

“Well...” Angie said, climbing into the bed. “Everything went much better than I expected.”

“Better? Cazzo... Angie, tell me you have nothing to do with the Vârcolac,” I growled nervously.

“Of course I haven’t. That slimy fish should have better control over his creatures, but hey, it came in handy,” the doll said, looking at the unconscious (Y/N).

“Handy? She... she's hurt... I was about to lose her and...” I said nervously, gently stroking the girl's silky hair, intoxicated by her tea scent.

“Don't be silly, this was the best thing that could have happened to you, Donna. You didn't have to kidnap her, you saved her life. Of course, it's much better,” the doll explained, making me realize that, once again, she was right.

“Mm... Mm...” a murmur escaped the young woman's lips, causing my head to snap towards her. “Where... Where am I?”

“You're safe, in my house,” I explained softly, continuing to stroke her hair.

(Y/N) winced slightly before rubbing her eyes with her good arm, positioning herself, noticing who was beside her.

“Lady Beneviento,” she whispered weakly, her eyes wide open, watching me.

Then it hit me. My hand went to my face, and I didn't notice the black cloth that used to cover it, but my skin. I'd forgotten about the veil, I was so afraid of losing you…

“Mannaggia…” I lamented, getting up to escape this situation. I wasn't ready to show her my hideous face, not yet.

“W-Wait…” the girl interrupted, reaching for my wrist, preventing me from moving with her burning touch. “Wait, please.”

“You shouldn't have seen me, (Y/N),” I whispered, struggling not to fall into her sweet grasp.

“No, I... it's fine, my lady... I like to put a face to my guardian angel,” she commented with a warm smile, making me look back at her slowly, to see the sincerity of her misguided words.

“I'm not an angel,” I murmured, removing her tempting hand from me, walking away from the bed.

“Well...” she said, painfully sitting down on the bed, still staring at me, scrutinizing my deformed features. “You look like an angel to me.”

“You're wrong,” I said frowning, but turning completely around.

(Y/N) shrugged with a sleepy smile, lying back down.

“Thank you,” she whispered, falling asleep again, forcing my weak body to move closer to her. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“I... don't,” I murmured, sitting next to her and looking at the bandage on her arm. “Y-You should rest.”

“Mm,” she gestured again. “I’m a little dizzy… I don’t think I can go home now…”

“No,” I said tersely, shaking my head. “You have to stay here, with me… erm… you must stay, and you can do it… as long as you want…”

“Mm… yes, you’re an angel…”

Her voice was sleepy due to my powers, but it was still divine, heavenly. She was no longer talking to herself or a client; she was talking to me; those words were directed at me. Dizzy or not, she was speaking to me; she had looked at me; there was no horror on her face, no fear.

All the horrible thoughts I had for her disappeared in an instant when my reckless hand grasped hers as her breathing relaxed and deepened. She was mine now, she was with me, but for some reason, I didn’t feel strong, I didn’t feel like holding her back by force.

I wanted to love her, take care of her, see her smile, and hear her tell me those beautiful things. I couldn't do it, I could never hurt (Y/N), and that was killing me.

When her arm healed, she would be gone forever, I would lose her, but I couldn't help thinking it was the right thing to do, that she would be much happier without me, that her smile would disappear if I forced her to love me.

At least she was mine in that moment. Maybe I could try, maybe...

Little by little, (Y/N) regained consciousness, flushing the drug emanating from my body and bringing her out of her disorientation. She didn't change much; she simply seemed much more serene, fearful, but... for some reason, she didn't seem to be truly afraid of me; rather, she seemed to want to be polite and grateful.

I cared for her, treated her with affection, with sweet words while I healed her wound, while she hissed in pain at my actions. But I was always rewarded with a beautiful smile, a sincere, grateful smile.

I couldn't fully reflect the days that passed, but they were more than one, more than two. Soon after arriving at my house, (Y/N) was able to roam freely, curious about everything there, asking questions, and being fascinated by each of my explanations.

“Mm, it's delicious,” she commented one evening while we were having dinner together, in silence, a calm, peaceful silence, a silence that allowed me to contemplate her, to see how she looked at me, how she acted without me being hidden, watching.

“Grazie,” I said gratefully, taking a sip from my glass of wine.

“This pasta has been my favorite food since I was a child,” (Y/N) said, wiping herself with a napkin.

“I know,” I said mistakenly, instantly regretting it for knowing her better than she did.

“Wow, you lords know everything, don't you?” she said amusedly, tasting the wine, complaining about her wound. “Ouch...”

“It's our job,” I said confidently, taking advantage of my status to correct my stupid mistakes.

“I see,” she said, winking at me, a gesture I didn't quite interpret, making me blink in confusion. “I thought I could do something for you.”

“Something for me?” I asked curiously, a darkness appearing in my gaze. Yes... I could think of many things she could do for me.

“Mm,” the girl nodded, carefully placing her glass on the table. “Well, you feed me, you take care of me... sometimes I don't think I want to go home,” she joked, making my face freeze.

“Then don't do it,” I said in an indifferent tone that made her raise her eyebrows before she laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Well, who knows...” she murmured distractedly after that awkward moment, which she dismissed as a joke. It wasn't. “But I would like to help you, at least... well, I know how to sew, and... I could help you with your dolls.”

“Mm, you need to perfect your technique,” I commented, slipping up again, making her look suspicious.

“Oh, really?” (Y/N) said amused, but with a slightly different tone, as if something didn't add up. “Well, I guess if you're patient enough with me, you could teach me your... perfect technique.”

“You can't sew with that arm,” I said, trying to break out of my own trap.

"It won't be forever, will it?" she joked again, raising her wine glass.

I smiled mysteriously, beginning to enter into a strange game I didn't understand, but I liked. I was crazy about her, hopelessly in love with her. That hadn't changed, it had only gotten worse.

“Here's to that, cin cin...”

As her wound healed, my hopes began to fade.

(Y/N) wasn't a simple villager; she was a young woman with a talent for fabrics, a lover of poetry, a kind, cheerful girl...

I never thought we could have so many things in common, that someone like me could get so close to someone like her without forcing her to do so. Of course, I had saved her life, and she was grateful for it. (Y/N) only meant to be kind and grateful, but it burned me. Her smile devoured my insides, made my heart race, excited me, drove me crazy.

Laughter, movies, hours of silent reading... somehow, we had established a bond I hadn't expected. I had managed to approach her without trembling and she didn't tremble when I did. She was perfect, so perfect…

Love consumed me, making me feel pain, sadness, frustration. She was just a girl grateful for what I did, nothing more. Soon she would be gone, abandoning me, and I would only be able to live on memories, on that false illusion of a shared life.

Luckily, I watched her long enough to get to know her, to know what she liked, what to do to please her. It wasn't too difficult for me to do so; she loved poetry, and I loved reading it to her, dedicating a few verses to her in small notes, or while doing her best to help me with my dolls.

I was happy, or I thought was. I would never be happy until she was mine, until she told me if she had feelings for me.

It drove me crazy, I suffered crises at night when she wasn't watching, desperately calling out her name, smashing mirrors and furniture, begging the Gods for a chance for happiness, with her.

“Anche così è stato breve il nostro lungo viaggio.

Il mio dura tuttora, né più mi occorrono

le coincidenze, le prenotazioni,

le trappole, gli scorni di chi crede

che la realtà sia quella che si vede...”

I recited one night, by the light of the fireplace, with her fascinated gaze fixed on mine. My voice trembled, but at the same time it was firm and sure. It didn't matter how much I was suffering for her love. I would suffer eternally to see those eyes look at me like that, to hear the words my lips spoke...

“Wow, it's beautiful,” (Y/N) commented, whispering so as not to disturb the peace of the moment. “What does it mean?”

“It talks about the loss of a great love,” I explained, closing the book, nervous to have her dress so close to mine, so close to me... “Eugenio Montale remembered his deceased wife with these verses, the things they experienced...”

“Oh, that's very sad,” she sighed, lowering her gaze. “Still, it sounds beautiful. Lost love is love, after all.”

“I-I guess so,” I said, relaxing a little, trying not to look at her intently whenever she spoke, to avoid seeming desperate, in love...

“Love is beautiful in all its forms, don't you think so?” she said in a casual tone, placing her legs on the sofa in a distracted posture.

“I don't know,” I answered sincerely.

“Have you never been in love? Oh, um... I shouldn't have asked that, I...” the girl said, once again recalling that cautious tone from the first days, the first weeks.

I didn't respond. I just looked away.

“What about you, silly girl? Have you fallen in love?” Angie interrupted, comically scaring us, breaking the tension of that moment, of that awkward question.

“Angie...” I hissed menacingly, while (Y/N) giggled with a hand on her chest. “Lasciala.”

“It's okay,” the tea girl said, shaking her head. “Actually… I'm in love right now, really bad, indeed.”

Her words stabbed into my chest like two sharp daggers. My whole world, my fantasies, and hopes crumbled at once. I should have known, I should have imagined that someone as perfect as (Y/N) would have someone waiting for her, someone who loved her, and who wasn't me.

Suppressing my rage, my desire to hurt her for causing me pain, I abruptly stood up from the couch, causing the girl to do the same, worried.

“Donna...” she said calmly. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine! Cazzo...” I screamed, removing her soft hands from my shoulders, which were trying to turn me towards her. “Take your hands off me, you stupid girl,” I growled, panting angrily and running towards the elevator, towards a night of inconsolable crying.

“Donna, wait.”

I didn't hear her; I could only hear her confession, her declaration of love for someone else. I'd already lost my mind, but that finished me off, brutally. Still, killing her, taking revenge out of spite, didn't seem like a good idea.

Imagining the terror in her eyes, her last breath, didn't console me, quite the opposite. Anyway, I already knew it was impossible; she would never love me, and I'd have to accept that, or I'd end up hurting her.

I decided it was best to distance myself, to cool down enough so I wouldn't feel the warmth of her presence, to count the days until her wounds healed completely and she disappeared from my life forever, before I did instead.

But I was never good at acting; my new attitude couldn't go unnoticed by her.

“Donna,” (Y/N) said, bursting into my workshop, distracting me with her unattainable charms. “I-I think I'm completely healed now.”

“Good,” I whispered, concentrating on the porcelain, not in her beauty. “Then you can get out of my house.”

“What? Um... I thought... I thought you liked being with me, I was thinking about...” she said, confused, getting dangerously close.

“No! Don't think, stupid! If you're healed, go away, you're just annoying me,” I exclaimed spitefully, breaking the doll with my hands, with the force of my pain.

“Why are you treating me like this? You're not the same, Donna, I thought that...” she said, hurt, pretending to care about my attitude.

I couldn't take it anymore.

“Why? Are you asking why?” I said, standing up from the chair with a dark look, clenching my fists tightly on either side of my hips. “Because I love you, stupida! I've been in love with you longer than you can imagine! You break my heart, you tell me there's someone you love... and you ask why I treat you like this? I don't know, (Y/N), maybe it's because I can't stand you being so close to me if I can't have you, maybe it's because I can't live without you!”

“I know,” she commented, unfazed by my madness, leaving me voiceless, colorless. “I always knew... you were there, somehow.”

“Cosa?” I asked nervously, a tear of love running down my cheek.

“I saw you far away, in the snow, watching me every day...” she explained, replacing my anger with shame. “At first I was scared, but... somehow... I knew you didn't want to hurt me.”

“You don't know anything, stupida,” I hissed, moving a little closer.

“I know what I feel,” she said firm, confident, without taking her eyes off mine. “Donna, I'm in love with you.”

“What? No, no, no, you're not going to cheat on me,” I said, pointing at her accusingly. “You told me the other night, you said that… that you were in love…”

“Yes, with you,” (Y/N) confessed, leaving me paralyzed. “I know it sounds hasty and… well, maybe you find it hard to believe, but somehow, that day, in the church… I… I don't know, I started wondering what you were really like, what was under that black, withdrawn figure.”

“Um…”

“And then… you came into my store with that silly excuse about tea… I never thought you'd dare to approach me, I'm just a simple villager,” she said amusedly, taking a step towards me.

“You're not a simple villager,” I said confused, my hands trembling when hers intentionally brushed against them.

“And you're not a monster…” she whispered, too close to my lips. “You saved my life, remember?”

“N-No... I... I...” I stammered as her arms wrapped around my waist and her gaze deepened on mine, mesmerizing me. “You don't understand... I wanted... I wanted to hurt you...”

“You'll hurt me, Donna. You'll hurt me if you don't kiss me,” (Y/N) whispered in my ear, pulling away to let my body respond, to let me thrust desperately against her, my lips crashing onto hers.

It wasn't a tender or loving kiss; there was fury, rage, shame, and passion in my movements, in the way my mouth devoured hers. I felt her smile as she reciprocated, the wetness of her tongue brushing against mine with the same force that my hands gripped her waist, pulling her against my body.

“Ti amo..." I whispered panting, catching the breath she'd stolen from me with her kisses, declaring my love for her, confessing a love that had been killing me for too long. “Ti amo...”

(Y/N) smiled seductively, not responding with words, but with another passionate kiss, quieter, but just as effusive.

My hands went wild, wanting to touch every part of her body I'd long considered forbidden. Her dress was violated by my caresses as my legs pushed her beauty against one of the workshop walls.

“I've wanted you to be mine for so long...” I growled in her ear as my fingers grazed her breasts beneath the fabric, my nails gripping her flesh, penetrating it.

“Prove it, Donna,” she challenged me... her voice was a wet challenge as my teeth sank into her neck.

Her bare skin appeared before me like a divine gift, allowing me to lie on it, caress it, kiss it, moisten it for me, so that I could devour it. But I was too anxious to enjoy the moment. I loved her, wanted to truly love her, to sink into her body, to make her mine before she came to her senses and realized what I was doing.

I took a deep breath, looking into her shining eyes and listening to her labored breathing, and without thinking, I ripped her underwear from under her dress with a victorious, dangerous, avid gasp.

“Donna,” she protested in amusement, letting her back hit the wall as I released my quivering erection from its prison. “Calm down.”

“No... you can't ask me to calm down,” I whispered in a commanding voice as I lifted her, leaning her against the wall as I entered her carelessly, feeling that warm, wet embrace around me.

“Shit... you're big, Donna,” (Y/N) protested with a moan, closing her eyes and letting herself go, letting my cock slide through her tight walls, forcing its way into her body, into her wetness...

“You’re... mine...” I responded clumsily, thrusting into her slowly but firmly, slamming her back against the wall as I held her. She clung to my body as best she could.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she moaned as she danced up and down to the rhythm of my thrusts and my indiscreet grunts. I barely had to force myself to move her; she was light as a feather, and comfortable, warm. “Oh, Donna...”

“You're not surprised,” I said with a sinister smile, moaning with pleasure as I felt her body intensely squeezing my erection, a wet, lascivious sound adorning the moment.

“I'd... heard something about it...” she moaned, too focused on the pleasure to be rational. I didn't give that unpleasant comment much thought; I had work to do.

Laughing, reveling in our first time, in truly having her physically, in feeling myself inside her perfect body, I continued my thrusts while my lips fought to capture hers.

“Donna, Donnaah!” she cried out, ecstatic as my release flooded her, causing her body to react in kind, holding me close, milking me with lust so my seed would stay inside her.

The pleasure I felt was incomparable to any other; her body was so perfect... so wet... so much better than a stupid, used maid. I already knew I loved her, but I didn't know I could feel that way: lost, madly in love, capable of forsaking the very Gods if she asked me to.

“I hope I didn't hurt you,” I said when I caught my breath, pulling out and gathering her in my arms as I brushed her hair away from her face. “I've been wanting to do this for so long... wanting to love you...”

“I know, Donna... you were always my guardian angel.”

[nmakii]

ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY?

— watching your life falling into catastrophe before your eyes. all because of a boy, because of oikawa tooru.

— fem!reader, oikawa lowk just plot device, vent draft 🤨, its me im reader, nonfiction 🤣, reader highk whipped

a/n: dawg… just had liek the WORST day at school tfff my whole lunch table dropped me can’t believe i wasted ingredients on a bitch that cant even return my chinese textbook 😒

oikawa tooru has a lot of fans. even that might be an understatement. but, it’s true nonetheless. even you’ve fallen for that cheeky loser’s spell.

in your defense, there are many things to love about him; how funny he is, how much he cares, how devoted he is, not to even mention his looks.

so, yes, you may have fallen for him. a lot of girls have.

“but it’s different this time. we have the chemistry. if he wasn’t so busy with training, if i’d be able to run into him again and hang out with him, then i’m sure he’d feel the same way.” you tell your friends over lunch. one of them scoffs. “suuuure, keep telling yourself that. i watched that latest game he played in, there were at least 10 other girls who were thinking the same thing.”

“you don’t get it, you just don’t get it! we have so many mutual friends, it’s almost as if we were meant to meet, y’know?” you explain, sounding almost desperate as your heart stirs thinking about him.

and, among the many exploits you did to impress him, you started doing volleyball. “s/o-chann! what are you doing here?” oikawa walks over to you, new kneepads in hand. “oh— hey! just buying some things.” you explain to him, handing the cashier some money as they wrap up your new volleyball. “what about you?”

“ahh, just getting some new gear since mine is getting pretty old… i never knew you did volleyball!” he notices things quickly. “well, yeah… i just have a lot on my plate, so i don’t do it as often anymore.” you tell him. “really noww? well, we should play together, okay?” he offers, a competitive edge in his voice.

oh my god. this is your chance to hang out with him. sure, this was what you were hoping for, but not right now… what if you fail to serve so miserably that he ends up laughing at you? but, again, it’s hanging out with him!

“sure! i’m down to play!” you quickly recover from your anxious thoughts. “erm— while we’re both here, you wanna hang out for a while?” you ask, words falling out of your lips without your own accord. “aww, no can dooo… i’m here with iwa-chan, and he’s gonna get mad at me if i bring a girl back with meee…” he pouts. “next time though! i won’t go easy on you!” he laughs before waving you goodbye.

next time.

that meant he wanted to see you. right?

“ughhh, enough about oikawaaaaa… he’s not even that cute, you’re far too good for him.” your friend frowns. you do talk about him too much, but what’s there not to love? all that could spill from your mouth were words of love for him. she was probably sick of it, your whole class was probably sick of it. so many people knew of your crush on him, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he knew and decided to just ignore it.

you couldn’t help it, you just loved him so much.

but, nothing ever came out of it.

he continued with his life, and you moved on with your’s.

soon enough, all the love in your heart for him was drained from his lack of reciprocation. you couldn’t blame him, he has so many fans, it wouldn’t be fair to pay attention to just one.

but still, even if he never got to be your boyfriend, you still got a best friend.

“agh!! s/o-chan, don’t, i look ugly right nowww!” oikawa whines as he runs away from your phone camera, nimbly maneuvering himself through the convenience store’s thin aisles. “come back ‘kawa!” you catch up to him, pulling on his arm so he couldn’t run away and snapping a blurry photo of his face.

“noo, s/o-chan, don’t post it!!” oikawa shakes his head in distress, trying to grab your phone. “too late!” you laugh, hitting post on your new story, oikawa tagged. oikawa falls on top of your body, trying to grab your phone. “delete!” he demands, trying to reach for the phone you held up in the air while keeping you stuck on the ground.

you laugh at his feeble attempts, politely waving hello to one of your classmates walking into the store. “get up!! you’re so embarrassing, ‘kawa!” you try to push him off.

it was a good day, a really good day.

even without that romantic chemistry, there was definitely something between you two. and, everyone could feel it; the way conversation just flowed so naturally between you two when you were simply being yourselves, it was like breathing after drowning for so long.

it was like laughing for the first time. you’ve never gasped for air so much as you did when you were with him.

just friends now, nothing more. and, that’s okay.

the next day, you’d walked into school, still happy from the fun you had after school yesterday. when you overheard someone’s conversation.

‘you know, s/o from class 3-3 is lowkey… so loud. all she talks about is boys. it’s like she thinks she’s someone special.’ you hear someone snicker.

‘her hair is so bad… it’s like… why would she go out looking like that?’ you hear from the long haired brunette in front of you, turning her head to look at you not so subtly.

‘she thinks she’s so funny… she needs to learn when to shut up…’

where did all this come from?

you frown as you try to get along with your day. it’s still alright though, even if most of the school population is against you, you still have your friends.

“s/o, we took a vote and most of us don’t want to eat lunch with you anymore.” your friend tells you, if you can still even call her your friend. the shock can barely even register before you nod. “oh. alright then.” you take your things to eat on one of the benches at school.

“ah! s/o-chan, what are you doing hereee?” oikawa sees you, staring daggers into the gardens. “huh? oh, i…it’s nothing…” you mumble. “don’t you have your own lunch table? why’re you here all aloneeee?” he asks.

and that’s when it finally sank in.

“i just wanted a change of scenery today, i’m okay.” you assure him, using all your willpower to hide the tears that threaten to fall out. oikawa frowns, feeling as if there’s something else, but decides not to pursue it. “hmm, okayyyy… well, if that’s all, i guess there’s no problem. i’m gonna go eat now then!” oikawa waves goodbye, on his way to iwaizumi’s table.

and when he’s finally gone, is when you finally let all the tears fall. this is such a stupid thing to cry about… being kicked out of a lunch table? there are so many other problems you could cry about…

you go to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, eyes all puffy from crying. when you get back to your classroom, you see two of your friends, or… ex-friends. it’s just for a split second, but they run out the other side of the classroom, trying to avoid you.

what was all this even for? because of being friends with a boy you liked? you never even dated, so what harm was done?

you’re so many things; smart, athletic, quite awfully pretty as well. you have your own interests, hobbies, and likes. why do you have to be reduced to liking oikawa? sure, you did talk about him an awful lot, but never recently.

“why did everything go wrong?

all because i liked a boy?”

[heartsforvin]

could you do an imagine where vinnie and y/n tell their friends their pregnant and it be fluffy 🤗

SURPRISE

such a cute idea !!! thank you for the request !! <33

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; cussing, use of pet names, (baby, princess, etc), pure fluff

summary; you and vinnie have very special news to tell your friends

about two months ago, you and vinnie had found out you were pregnant. it came as a definite surprise to you both, you guys had been trying to start your own little family for months now.

you haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet, both of you want it to be a surprise.

today was the day you were telling your friends. both of you had already told your family, but you wanted a separate day to tell friends.

you were surprisingly showing a bit more than most people do at two months, but that didn’t bother you one bit.

“you ready, baby?” vinnie asks as he walks into the kitchen of your shared apartment.

you smile and hum as you eat one of your many pregnancy cravings of the week.

vinnie chuckles as he sees the odd food combo but just shakes his head. “you sure baby likes that shit?” he asks.

grabbing your purse, you push his chest and make your way to the front door. “keeps the little one fed, plus it’s good.” you tell him.

vinnie lets out a laugh as he rests his hand against your lower back and the two of you head to the elevators.

once in the parking garage, the two of you make your way to vinnie’s car and head off to meet up with your friends.

you all decided to meet up at vinnie’s old place he shared with his roommates a few years back. some of the guys still live there and it was close to your guys’ apartment.

vinnie placed his hand on your tummy as the two of you drove to the house. a million butterflies crowded your stomach, even if you guys had been together for years, those feelings never go away with him.

you glance over at him and smile, receiving one in return. vinnie grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles softly before intertwining your fingers together.

soon, you both arrive at the house and you’re practically jumping out of the car to go inside.

vinnie watches as you walk quickly to the front door. he smiles to himself when he sees the door open and watches you hug one of his friends.

he finally makes it to you and wraps his arm around you, kissing your cheek.

“hey vin!” jack exclaims as he sees vinnie next to you.

vinnie let’s go of you for a moment to hug his best friend. the three of you make it inside after, where you and vinnie greet everyone else.

you say hello to your friends, giving them hugs as you catch up a bit. thankfully no one has noticed your bump, you made a mental note this morning to wear a baggy shirt so it wasn’t obvious.

you all talked for a few hours, caught up with each other, see how everyone’s lives have been, things like that.

you and vinnie soon told everyone you had very important and exciting news for everyone, and of course the guys made their assumptions.

one of them however, was not far too off.

“did you baby trap vinnie yet?” jordan, who sat alongside his girlfriend maddy, asked.

she hit him on his chest. “that’s so fucked up, j.” she whispers to him, but the group heard.

you all laugh but soon get everyone’s attention again. you grab vinnie’s hand and he squeezes yours for reassurance.

“actually you’re not too far off,” you say as you look at vinnie, the biggest smile plastered on his face. “you wanna do the honors, v?” you whisper.

although most people would think you would want to announce it, this is a special moment for vinnie just as much you, and you want him to feel included.

vinnie kisses your head before turning to the group. “we’re expecting!” he shouts with the biggest grin ever.

everyone cheers and congratulates you both. vinnie leans in and kisses you softly before stroking your cheek gently.

everyone piles around you both and hugs you and vinnie, so happy for you both.

“cant believe we’re gonna be aunties!” a group of your friends say as they place their hands on your stomach.

you turn and watch vinnie hug all his friends with the biggest smile ever.

you can’t believe this was real life sometimes. that you not only had vinnie in your life but you now get to have a miniature version of him too.

“yes! and of course you’re all godmothers.” you tell your friends.

you talk for awhile before meeting up with vinnie again. “hey sweetheart.” he greets, arm wrapping around you and a kiss to your head.

you lean into his touch and hum at the feeling of his body heat against you.

“was just tellin’ the guys they can be godfathers.” vinnie tells you.

you laugh but don’t mean for it to come out as loud as it does. “what’s the problem with that?” josh asks.

you hide your face in vinnie’s chest, trying to compose the smile.

“i love you all, just know that,” you say. “but there’s only a select few of you i would actually trust with my unborn child.”

you glance over at jordan and see him pointing at himself mouthing ‘definitely me’ and you just laugh.

“not even in the slightest baby trapper. good try though, huxhold.” you tell him.

he frowns but you go over and hug him. “you and maddy are number one on my list of people i’d want the little guy to be with if anything happened to vinnie or i.” you whisper in his ear.

the man smiles and hugs you and you tell him to let maddy know exactly what you just told him.

you go around and hug the group of people you and vinnie love so much, thanking everyone for coming by to hang out and just being in your lives in general.

you two spend a few more hours with friends before you tell vinnie you’re getting sleepy. he stands up and helps you up too.

you say one last goodbye to everyone before you and vinnie head out to his car.

on the way home you fall asleep, vinnie’s hand never leaving your stomach as he drives you both home.

once finally home and parked, vinnie wakes you up and tells you that you guys made it home. hand in hand, the two of you walk up to his apartment.

greeted by hera, you pick her up and walk to your room, vinnie following behind. setting the cat on the bed, you and vinnie get ready for bed yourselves.

you snuggle into the boy you love and adore so much while hera lays in between you two, right next to your tummy.

“you excited to have a sibling, hera?” vinnie asks his cat, making you chuckle.

he’s already such a great cat dad to hera that you already know he’s gonna be a great dad to your baby.

“i think that’s a yes.” you whisper as you hear hera purr.

vinnie smiles and pulls you in closer to him, kissing your shoulder.

“i love you, princess,” he tells you. “thank you for giving me this life.”

you smile. technically he gave you this life, but you won’t go into technicalities. instead, you smile and kiss him gently.

“i’m glad im living it with you. i love you.” you tell him.

soon after, the room is left in the three of you snuggled together and the sounds of soft breathing.

this was absolutely adorable to write out, i hope you liked it !!

tags: @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @forevergirlposts , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @hallecarey1 , @kayleiggh , @st4rswrld , @louloulemons-blog , @lovingsturniolo , @visualbutterflysworld , @supabhad , @violet0182 , @laylasbunbunny , @kriissy4gov

[h1biscusgal]

hi, your vibe is so good and your theme also

i am very confused like i know entering void is very easy and once we came out of our desires are already materialised but still i feel that it is out of my league like idk what my df would be i have choosen someone's face but she looks 25 plus and i am 18 so i want to look like her younger version or something like that idk how it will work out

secondly i want my crush to message me and start talking regularly he is a playboy he want someone new everyday i want him to be obsessed with me more than how i used to be but my sc is very bad i feel that why he will msg me only when here are so many beautiful girls around

thirdly , i am very insecure to take pics i dont find myself pretty but after the void everything will change from head to toe so i want revised pics but i dont believe that it will happen

and lastly idk what to visualise while doing sats

Girly.

Stop. Saying. "I don't believe his will happen."

Then why are u here if u won't believe it? Literally please look at the thousands of people in this community, there are two types:

A) I'm getting my life, cause I'm a master at it.

2) omg what do I do how do I do it, she got hers when am I getting mine, I find it hard that's so weird, I'm skeptical what if it doesn't work? What if it won't help me? It's not true what am I doing I failed and I couldn't-

Meanwhile number 2 in complaining number 1 already got their desires.

Why the FUCK would you think the void is out of ur league 🧍🏻‍♀️

MY THROAT HURTS FROM REPEATING IT (or well my fingers from typing it)

THE

VOID

IS

YOU.

You CANT TRY FOR THE VOID WHEN IT'S IN U.

Do you tell yourself "omg that cheesecake is out of my reach I could never" when the plate in RIGHT in your hand? LIKE IT'S IN UR HANDS-

And for the Df, you can literally just manifest looking like a younger version of her, that's how I did my own (not from the void, but I manifested within time to resemble young Jennifer Connelly)

Manifesting is limitless, and the only limit rn is you in the way, believe me I'm not trying to demotivate people but if you go with this mindset? It won't work out well.

Change it, and girly u already said your self concept is bad (btw I don't believe that you have to have a mental diet, self concept is literally just saying "so what, I got it" and that's it)

You will get ur crush if you stop victimizing yourself and pull yourself together.

For the love of GODDDD fix ur state of mind, the only person to blame is you if you don't fix yourself pls, it's not hard and I DO NOT WANT ANYONE SAYING:

"but Coco, it might be easy for you but it's hard for us! We can't!"

NUH UH ☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

I said the same and it took me what, two days?

And you can change ur appearance ofc, but like I said, in your hands, please please PLEASE FIX YOUR CONCEPT.

And I know a lot started messaging me saying:

"Coco I've heard people manifest even when they are in a negative state of mind!"

Yeah, you can cry and get it, feel insecure and get it, but y'know what bloggers mean when they say fix ur concept?

No it doesn't mean be happy go lucky, mf it means:

Flip that specific thought that you can't enter, can't shift, can't get to the void, and so on.

CRY AND BAWL, JUST REMEMBER YOU ARE A MASTER, THAT'S IT

[crumkitty]

A/N: HI GUYS I cant believe I’m doing this, I haven’t written in for so long, but ima try my best 🐱 About!!:This is a Cicero X Listener! this is kinda like a slow burn with lots of yapping, so get ur reading glasses on 😭🙏

BTW! the white is the slow burn, and the pink is NSFW! for the people who just wanna get freaky😛 Warnings!!: NSFW, talk about death, bleeding

Cicero and his Skibidy

The Dragonbron, The listener, how many more names where you going to be taking!? Being both the Dragonborn and Listener was a stressful-- to say the least. You had to worry about Alduin, pleasing everyone in skyrim and worrying if you where enough for all of her. And joining the Dark Brotherhood wasn't any help with this stress AT ALL. you constantly got contracts from Nazir and Astrid, and now the Night Mother. it was all simply to much to bare. You needed a.. Distraction. somthing that could get your mind off your duitys even if it was just for a single moment.

"Oh listener!", that jesters voice rung through your bedroom. your perked your head up, looking to the doorway, finding Cicero with a grin on his face.

"you seem stressed! let sweet Cicero help!", he spoke, lifting a foot to step into your room.

"no! leave, i need time to think", You shouted out without thinking. The jester froze, but reluctently left you. You turned back to the fire, your mind was a mess, whirring around. you didn't understand it anymore. Soon enough, you had yet another annoying contract. but when you came back to report to Astrid, the Lizard was bleeding.

Cicero went bezerk, trying to kill Astrid. you couldn't help but put the blame on yourself, "maybe if I didn't snap, It wouldnt have brought him to this breaking point.". You ended up finding him in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. He cowered before you, blood pouring from his stomach. he was a mad man.

Cicero wheezed, gasping for breath. "You caught me! I surrender..", he laughed weakly.

"time to die, tratior!", you yelled back to him, unsheathing your sword.

"traitor? Me? silly assassin. so confused, so confused.. and they say im mad!", He continued with a gasp for breath, clutching onto his wound, "If im a tratior, so are you! have you not heard the maiden's voice? are you not the listener?", he questioned. Anger seeped into his tone as he sat up, that grin still on is face. even in the face of death, this jester is still.. grinning, has he no idea of what could happen to him? what could happen by your hand?

you left. going back to the Sanctuary, telling Astrid he is dead. everything after this went by a blur. nothing but that jester in your mind, was he still alive? would he attack again? You killed the emperor, Astrid died by your hand, and now you where the leader and listener of the Dark Brotherhood. Nothing made sense anymore. you sat in you masterbedroom, head in your hands when you heard Cicero's voice.

"Oh listener..", He hummed, "Cicero is back. what? you think i'd be grateful that you saved my life?! NO! Cicero wants to be Listener, Cicero deserves to be Listener!", He yelled. You stood up quickly, trying to unsheath your sword, but he got to you first, pinning you against the wall. You let out a yelp, looking into those dark brown eyes of his as he held his Ebony Dagger across your neck, that same insaine grin spread across his face. but he paused.

Cicero laughed, resting his head against your shoulder. "You should see the look on your face! Cicero was just kidding, oh great and powerful listener..", he breathed into your ear, his gaze becoming.. darker. You looked at him through the corner of your eye, watching him trace his blade down your neck and to your collerbone, a smirk on his lips. "My sweet listener.. Cicero.. finds himself captivated by you, by how you whimper to his touch", He hushed against your ear, warm breath tickling your neck. he pressed against you, the bulge in his pants growing more prominant. You found yourself unable to push him away, to be honest.. this was the exact thing you needed to get your mind off your duties.

"Your naughty", You spoke back, that siren gaze of yours peirceing into Cicero's own lustful gaze. your pushed your hips against his, Cicero whimpering. he pressed his forehead into your's, dropping hus dagger aside. Instead of him holding that evil grin, you held your own, now leaning more into Cicero, your breath becoming ragged. but Cicero placed a finger on your lips, standing up, glaring down at you.

"Imagine us, my listener. The Keeper and His Listener... Cicero likes this thought, and the sound of it.. turns him on", He giggled, now leaning in and claiming your lips as his. He moaned into the kiss, clutching your body close, his hands reaching down to your ass and grabbing it tightly, his bulge throbbing against your thighs. You shut your eyes, between every kiss taking a gasp of air before his tounge could plunge back into your mouth, swirling and dancing with your own. you pressed your hips against his harshly, causing him to let out a soft moan. he broke the kiss, his gaze filled with nothing but a primal instinct to take you, to love his listener.

"come on..", you taunted teasingly, reaching a hand down to his bulge, gently grasping and feeling, Cicero's own breath leaving him. "Just fuck me already. make me forget all the bad, all the good. I want to be seeing stars.", You begged, Cicero growling with need and roughly lifting up your shirt, revealing your beautiful chest to his gaze. his eyes widened and he couldnt help but lean in, taking one hardened peak into his mouth. looking up to you with dark brown eyes, he swirled his tongue aroun the peak, his eyes shutting as he nipped lightly against you, your body jolting slightly with pleasure.

"Oh.. my listener likes that, do they?", He whispered against your skin, now kneeling on his knees, kissing down your belly to your belt, he tugged at it. with a mocking look of innocents, he undid your belt, tossing it aside and pulling down your pants to his hungry gaze. he bit his bottom lip and couldn't tear his eyes away from your dripping arousal.

"Your amazing.", He breathed against heated skin. hesitantly, he stuck his tongue out, sliding between slick folds, a moan leaving his lips as he savored your salty sweet taste, causing you to shudder with pleasure, your hand instinctively reaching out to tangle fingers in his bright red hair. "you taste amazing too.." he added. he shut his eyes, taking that throbbing pearl into his mouth. he suckled, and flicked his tongue against it with need, a need to please his listener. he lapped and lapped at you for hours until you where nothing but a quivering soaked mess, your body left limp in his own. he moved to your bed, rocking you in his arms.

"Hush my sweet.. Cicero is here, to care and love you.", he whispered to you, pressing his lips that your release coated, to your brow.

"But after you have pleased poor aching Cicero..", He grinned once more as he looked down to you... what have you gotten yourself into?

Idk if I’ll do a pt 2 only if u guys are freaky deeky 🤤

[misfithive]

What I think Simon likes about Wille

I have seen some discussions about “why Simon even like Wille” (😔☹️💔) both here and elsewhere. I'm bored sooooo here is my list of what I think! I admit when I first watched I used to wonder sometimes why Simon liked him, mostly bc the back and forth hot and cold of season 1 could understandably be exhausting however once i thought about it I came up with many things. (some are hc ish ) :) I also think that if you love wilmon's relationship then you can see what they see in eachother. Two people (Wilmon) created that dynamic together both of them are loving/open/gentle with each other it is deeper than " i like that he sings and he is pretty"- they like how the other person makes them feel which is different I think than what is usually portrayed in teen relationships. People focus too much on their fights/angst sometimes and not their nice moments I think the good outweighs the bad. Also why i believe in endgame bc they have something deep and special.

1. I think Simon thinks Wille is adorable in a dorky way or finds him endearing. When Wille dropped the utensil after their first real convo Simon was blushing and giggling

2. Wille actively seeks him out a lot and tries to help Simon when he can/ When someone is giving you that kind of attention it is flattering and shows how kind Wille is (the tip about tutoring, the rowing tips, the song on the piano). Thats a quality someone would find attractive

3. Similarly when they are together Wille’s attention and energy is solely focused on him / Wille smiling at him adoringly all the time. I think that would make anyone feel special and especially if you are like Simon and spend a lot of energy caring for/thinking about other people

4. Wille is generally very gentle with Simon which is beautiful and also imagine someone being that gentle with u and holding u like that im sure u would fall in love too lmfao even tho simon is asleep I think he felt it and this isnt the only example I just like the picture hehe

5. Wille wears his heart on his sleeve. Simon is more guarded with his feelings i think he could drawn to how open/expressive/ softhearted Wille is with him. “I didn't want to lose you” “you are beautiful” etc

6. Wille makes him sandwiches asks him how he is doing a lot etc sorry but no boys were making me sandwiches as a teenager a lot of small things like this are still a big deal

7. Wille is a prince and he could be a total arrogant a** hole like everyone else at that school and no one would think twice but he is not. It takes a certain type of person to actively not be like that when u are born into that level of privilege and everyone will let you get away with whatever. I think Simon likes that Wille is different than than the other people at school who ignore him and treat him bad.

8. Simon feels safe around Wille (maybe with the exception of the music room scene) but they have a safe space together its a strong contrast to the dynamic with marcus and i think everything with marcus serves to highlight how special the dynamic is with Wille.

9. Wille gives good hugs

10. Wille is nice to Linda and tries to make her feel included Simon thought that was cute (it was very cute)

11. They can laugh together and see how silly (ridiculous) august/some of the antics of the other boys are

12. I could go on okay but love is not always rational and cant be contained in a list, they are soulmates and thats that!!!!!!!!!

//Adding that i think Omar said in an interview that despite what Simon says in the locker room he thinks Simon likes that Wille accepts him for who he is. But if anyone can find the clip pls share I dont wanna misquote him! //

[cryinglightning64]

Hope Is Lost

Summary: You left home to get away from the normalcy, only to end up in a foreign country not knowing that the world was beginning to end.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female (sorta nun) reader

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic bc i cant seem to find any about him in france and if you have found any tag me plss 😭 i had to resort to making my own instead. lmk if anyone is even interested in a part 2 this is basically just a teaser i promise it will have smut if 1 person interacts with this. even if nobody interacts ima still post part 2 bc wtf am i doing hoarding this in my notes app.

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The first time you saw him you had a strange feeling about him. As if you knew who he was. As he floated on top of the boat that seemed to be capsized, a measly tied rope that hardly held his body to the boat, you weren't sure what his name was, but you had a gut feeling, you knew it had to be him. The one to get you home.

You followed him, watched as the man washed up on the shore, confused, but seemingly determined.

The sisters might be right, you thought to yourself. Isabelle might be right.

You met Isabelle after the world began decaying, finding refuge at the convent. It wasn't really your first choice, staying at the convent, but in this world, beggars can't be choosers. You thought maybe immersing yourself into religion might help take your mind off everything that happened to you, everything going on outside.

Many of the nuns at the abbey didn't see you as one of them, despite you doing everything possible to fit in, as much as a fake nun could. You never were religious like the rest of them, which made everyone turn their heads away from you. Religion came easy to them, meanwhile with you, well, you hadn't given it much thought.

To this day it's still in the back of your mind, chipping away at you, the guilt of not being a big enough believer in God. How could you believe in a higher power if this is what the world has succumbed to? How could anything good let all the people you loved, cared about, die such gruesome deaths? Always a constant back and forth battle you had going on in your mind.

Sister Isabelle confided in you, telling you about Laurent, and how she needed to find someone to deliver him to Paris. The whole messiah thing seemed like such a crazy thing to wrap your head around, but you still offered your help in anyway you could. After all, you knew she would do anything for you and the rest of the nuns. That and you needed to get out of France. It was your one chance, you finally had a good enough reason to leave the abbey and try to find your way back home.

Hanging up the small poster of the Union Isabelle made, you watched as the man with the wings on his back took an abandoned boat as his shelter for the night. Hopefully he would still be there by the time you got back tomorrow.

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

"Isabelle, I am telling you, I saw him." you pleaded. You stood in the now-quiet kitchen, eyes wide, but barely visible due to the small lantern you held up.

"Je t'ai dit de ne pas y aller seul," Isabelle whispered, "I told you not to go alone out there, what if he had seen you? Or followed you?"

"He didn't, okay? Please Isabelle, I know what everyone here thinks about me and my faith, but I know it, he's the one that can help us take Laurent." you spoke quietly but urgently, as to not wake up the rest of the sisters.

"No, we know nothing of this man, maybe he is already out there walking amongst the dead, or worse, he might just be here to steal from us and kill us all. You will not go back out there, especially alone, do you understand?" Isabelle spoke, her hand coming to rub her forehead, smoothing the frown lines forming.

Sighing, you nod your head, peering down at the drawing.

"Good, now get some sleep." Isabelle turned away, heading back to sleep.

Even if deep down, you didn't believe that Laurent was the messiah, you still had the need to find out more about this man.

The next morning you came back to where you had last seen the man, hoping he was still out there.

You watched and followed as he got up and began packing his things, setting out to wander the land.

You also saw how he had got himself into trouble with the young woman and older man, seeing how he fought off the men from the Pouvoir des Vivants, as best as he could. You watched from a distance until you saw how they robbed him blind, injuring him long enough for them to get away.

You ran up to him, kneeling before watching him pass out from the blows to the head and quite probably the dehydration.

You carried, or more so, dragged his limp body to your small carriage you brought with you, hoping he wouldn't be what Isabelle said he was.

You were dreading having to explain to Isabelle why you had brought this man to the abbey after she so explicitly told you not to engage with him, let alone bring him into your homes.

"Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit? Why did you have to bring him back here?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows at you as she held the hot poker towards his arm.

"Perdóname, no supe que hacer, I had no choice he was injured" you said and you rounded to the opposite side of the bed.

"Hold his arm down, and cover his mouth." Isabelle said as she looked at you with a glare you were sure was the maddest you have ever seen her.

He screamed into the cloth you had placed between his teeth as he writhed and she held the hot metal to his arm where the mutated undead had burned him.

His grunts and pained yelling made something inside you feel horrible, the pain he was in almost made you feel as terrible as it seemed to pain him.

His anguished face combined with the peaceful singing of the nuns down the hall swarmed your senses, until he coughed and passed out once more.

"Listen to me, I know you didn't mean for all this to happen, I get that, and I understand he was hurt. But you better pray that he will be able to deliver Laurent, it's what he needs, deserves." Isabelle said after she wrapped the man's arm, who you had come to learn his name was Daryl Dixon from the tape you found in his pack.

"I will, Isabelle. I'll make it my life's mission to get that boy to Paris." you said quietly as to not wake up Daryl, who had begun to snore softly in the bed below you.

"Very well. Now help me prepare the bath for him, he's going to need it once he wakes up." Isabelle walked away to fetch a kettle of water to fill up the bath.

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a/n: yall pls dont be mad i tried my best i know its shitty writing but i dont have anything to lose.

also im open to suggestions or if you guys wanna see a certain trope or scene play along u tell me ill do my best to make it come true on paper 😪

[firesnap]

i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.

ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?

its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?

im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.

This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.

I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.

This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.

My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.

With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.

Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.

(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)

But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.