#yeah i forgot hes english name. I wrote it in Italian sorry

[ilysmocaa]

Alright, they've been on my mind for a very long time :') and when I listen to this song I ALWAYS think of them. I love them so much, vetrix family are my favorite characters in Zexal since forever 🥹

AND I'M SO ANGRY BECAUSE I NEVER GOT TO SEE WHEN TRON COME BACK TO THEM WHEN HE UNDERSTAND HE DID BAD THINGS TO THEM AND THAT HE LOVES THEM SM BECAUSE THEY ARE HIS SONS AAARGGG I NEEDED MORE OF THEM!!!

never been so angry for a family in a show tbh 😭😭

anyway fanart here:

[sheshe-cartoonlover]

Heyy! Here I'll uploading my sketches of different cartoons!!

Orrrr...

Different ideas or thoughts of different cartoons :D

Well, things like that...

Almost all about cartoons :))

Also... Can you see my pfp? 'Cause I uploaded It many times, but I can't see It TvT

Sooo... I forgot to upload my description and I prefer to write what I'd write there directly here!

About me:

You can call me... Basically any way you like, SheShe Is okk too :))

Orrr... You call me Rain or something like that... I usually use that! It's my art name...? Kind of...

Okk, let's move on!! I'm 15yo... Too much... Too much... I think I've missed two or three birthdays, because sometimes I wake up thinking I'm 12yo... Yeahh, that's It! Just ignore all the "..."! It's just not really how I talk irl, but I can't really talk how I talk irl, maybe I'll leave a vocal thingy here someday, since I desperately want to talk!! My English Is bad, remember that! I'm a B2, I think?? I don't really know my level, I just know I can read B2/C1 books, well, I usually mess up with few/little and many/much... When writing or speaking. Talking about my pronounce, It Is well, really meh... You'll hear that laterrr!

I wrote this poem just for saying that I'm 15yo! Oh, my!

ANYWAY, yeah, I know I repeat things often, I'm totally self-conscious about that and I apologise! But... I TRY, but I can't not do It!!! It's sooo hard! It's like talking slowly! Who on earth Is able do that?

Oh, let's come back to myself ✨

I'm Italian and I'm REALLY can't take It anymore with all the hotness hereee! It's like 40°C degrees, I hate the Sun! Sorry, Sun, I love your complexion... But not your role, still don't explode, pleeeeeease!

After that little talk to myself with the Sun, you probably stopped reading, I'm not even asking myself why! If you are still reading, I think you must know that you're not even halfway, because I may have been lacking of social interactions these days and when that happens... I talk to myself, so why don't be even crazier! Talk to random people who may encounter my post In this sea of posts (worst metaphor ever, I know) and ask themselves why? Why would she do that?

OHHH, RIGHT!! I'm a girl! Pronouns She/Her, I don't really like to be referred as He/Him, so please remember that, I won't be mad If you don't, but... Don't be offended If I'm having a bad day and I tell you something, like "I'm actually I girl!!", I apologize here, sorryyy 😓😓...

Let's move onto Sexuality, should we? (Yeah, we definitely should, I know, I'll tell you how many words are there In this poem at the end, which Is... Uhm... Pretty far!)...

ANYWAY (I'll using a lot of anyways to reconnect myself to the MAIN conversation here, yeah, I know It's just a conversation with MYself!)... Counting of anyways at the end!!

ANYWAY, I'm In the ARO/ACE Spectrum, I know for sure I'm Apothisexual but... What about romantic orientation? Something In the ARO Spectrum for sure, just not Apothiromantic, since, I'm not romance-repulsed... I mean, I don't like romance on myself, like kisses are a big no and, I'm not perfectly fine with physical touch either... But, I really love others romance!! Literally like every fangirl!! But I don't know If Apothiromantic to that!? So I'll be sticking to Aromantic or [Fictoromantic], even though I prefer Apothiromantic, referring to how I feel about romance with ME...

I'm a cartoon addicted, I don't watch anything If not cartoons!! (No, but I mean for real)... I'm starting to become real-people-repulsed, well not for real, I love my friends, but, I just wish we were, like, animated better? It's difficult to explain, maybe I'm just weird... I literally can't watch shows with real people If not at the theatre, because I feel like repulsed... I get bored In some minutes...

ALSO, things for which I'll probably get bullied at school If I tell anyone, I'm afraid of blood, like a lot... Not mine... But others'... Yes.. Even If It's just the slightest sight of blood... If It's drawn I still have problems, but less, like I can convince myself that It Isn't blood, so my head doesn't start going crazy and almost fainting or... I just look away :D!

TPD doesn't have much blood, luckily and... Only on dark scenes, most of the times, so I say to myself: "It Isn't blood... It's Isn't blood..."

That's like:

Me: "It Isn't blood... It's Isn't blood..."

Viren: "The Son's Blood..." or "The Blood of The Soon...", I'm not sure!

Anyway!!

Me: "IT'S NOT BLOOD! IT'S NOT BLOOD!"

So, well, sometimes I actually believe It... And It's working! When Viren did that disgusting hearth thingy I don't wanna remember, at first, I didn't even think It was blood... Well, then yes, so I started looking away or looking at the background ehe...

This Is starting to feel like a personal diary-

ANYWAY, where were we? I don't even remember...

Oh. Right!!! My lucky number Is 17!!!

I won't tell you ALL my personality typings, just know I'm a ENFP E2w3, ok?

Wanna know something? Ask In the comments below!!

And no, It's NOT the end... Just lemme find a topic, because I really want to talk... You can see how crazy I am by the fact that I literally have a chat with myself on TextingStory free version, 'cuz I have no money ✨✨

Wanna see some of the chat???

I guess not, but I wanna show y'all!!

Nevermind, It's more embarrassing than this whole thing...

I'm working on MLP tarots with myself, anyway!!! I have just 2 cards ready for now, well "ready"... I have just 2 doodles of the concepts... I have 0 - The Fool - Discord and I - The Magician - Trixie, but I have to color them digitally and It's gonna be a pain since... Well, let's say I'm not the best with digital art... But still, I should be able to trace and color, right?? Yeah, I don't think so neither, but we'll see after I have all the 78 cards ready!!!

My idea Is to give each card a different character, according to their story or just something near to their story, since finding 78 DIFFERENT characters was hard... Actually 85, but shhh, just because two cards need 2 characters and one needs 3... Not really the best things ever... Finding the Kings was the worst ehe... At least now I can say my favourite seed Is CUPS!! And that If you get 5 Is bad... Also Death!! Death Is worse... I already decided all the characters yesterday, did I already tell you that?

Anyway...

I know It's bad, I just tried... Ahahahaha

They are the same size anyway, don't let yourself be fooled by the pictures and for the King/Queens and Empress/Emperor you'll see... I'm not a PEDO!!! I don't actually ship them! They are just characters that fitted In, Kings and Queens are not related! Nor are the Empress and the Emperor!!

Fun fact: I have 8 full notebooks I made In 3-4 years... Maybe 2? It feels so weird... I didn't change In these notebooks, just In the last ones, I understood myself better... Since I write as Rain, not as She... Yeah, She Is a real life nickname people give me, so well, SheShe too... I really became more mentally ill In these years... But also a lot more like In this post... In my notebooks, I put all my weirdness and I feel happy about It, I don't know If It's good or not...

I'm also dark, sometimes, thought, honestly... Like I really want my parents to divorce, like I want It, I'd be happy and out there there are people who maybe have PTSD due to their parents divorce... I feel cruel for this...

ANYWAY!!! LET'S TALK OF LIGHTER THINGS!! Even thought, my playlist playing "Different Beast" creeps me out, If the next It's "Monster", I'd be sad for my own cruelness... I'm trying soo hard to be KIND, KIND AND KIND... People say: "Don't be kind or you'll be used!", but what If I like being used??? What If I'm fine with It and I take joy In being used, because I know that my being used does something good to others, while my not being kind, hurts them? Like sometimes I don't understand people, I usually thought that this thing of using was realistic and helpful, but some months ago I realised I wrong I was! Anyway, yeah, people use me or think about using me, even not voluntarily... One time, one of my classmates told me: "You do everything people tell you, you're so usable"... I told him "I know" and I laughed, "It doesn't bother me" - I said.

Anyway my YouTube FYP, because yes

Sorry, It's In Italian 😓😓

Anyway, "No Longer You" Is playing, It's even more even depressing than "Monster"...

Anyway, even If It's the song which scares me the most In all EPIC, "Monster" Is my favourite song In The Musical!!!

Anyway, my current favourite cartoon Is MLP: FIM, well, actually from a lot of years, but... Still love It!!!

I'll finish this ✨ Poem ✨ later

I'M BACK! I'M BACK!!

OK, so I thought you may be asking why In my notebook I have a date of day that still has to come (5/4), I wish It was because I'm from the future, but It's because I'm a dummy... In my notebooks, I always put dates that has to come, It's because they're Rain's notebooks, not She's notebooks and In Rain's world the time works different... It's never the same date as today, It's always the future, but really random... Like sometimes In a day I put 2 or more different dates orr, one day I put the date of 2 days after and some days even a week or a month... This started with a date of months later, but I was busy, this date arrived and well, the dates came nearer ehe...

I'm loving writing this essay, like It's really awesome, It's like a therapy!!! Quite like VAT7K, which helped and Is helping with my loneliness and fear of abandonment... See, I don't know If you want to read my psychological talk... There aren't a lot of who would want to... At least, when I talk about that with my Mom I feel worse than before... But, maybe with you? I talked about It with other friends... Really... Almost everyone, even If I tried to make It seem A LOT less a pain than It really was, because... Because that's what my Mom makes me think... Like, I don't wanna become a drama queen and give the impression that ONLY I suffer, I don't know, my Mom always says that "No one wants to be your (mine) friend, because you're (I'm) always like this"...

Like, I love to talk about psychology and things I like, but when I talk with my Mom or my Grandma, my Dad... I feel so non listened and dumb for even having started that dumb conversation that... I started to not talk about my Interests with my friends or, even when I do It, I feel like even If they reply... They seem Interested... Their smile Is fake and they are just annoyed, bored and uninterested just because of me, so I stop... And change topic...

ANYWAY, I'm making this whole thing seem like It's my Mom fault, but no, she's good!! She doesn't just realise she's not really the mother she wishes to be and I'm not the daughter she wants ehe... But she's a lot of fun!!! I definitely prefer her to those bratty Moms all about pretty dresses and ugly long nails... Augh... (SORRY IF I ACCIDENTALLY INSULTED YOU!! If I don't like long nails or dressing pretty It's just me, not you, you are not a bad personality to me just because of that, you're even better than me, because you actually care about you look, while I don't... Well, I do... But In my ways... Anyway, I love y'all anyway!! Remember, It doesn't matter how you dress, y'all are still beautiful!!! I just don't want a Mom who tells me to dress pretty, while I don't to ♥️)!

Hey!! Wanna know I dress and how I WOULD dress If I could?

I'll show some things from Pinterest!!! You're completely free to not like It, of course, I have not seen anyone with my style so far... Well, maybe my BFF, but I'm... Well, even more colourful and self expressive than her!!

Ohhh, I can't wait to show youuu! I need to find someone with my style!!!

First, this kind of oversized hoodies, all with bunnies images like this one! But, figure them In a different colour, like... Dark or Light Pink/Lavender/Red and with a big pocket right below the bunny!!!

This would be a good example of a T-shirt I'd wear, same colours (Dark or Light Pink/Lavender/Red, some white), always with Bunnies!!!

Always long shirts.

I'd wear this kind of shirts/hoodies with cartoon characters too, but It's too embarrassing ehe...

For the pants, sweatpants or leggins!

Same colours are before, you know Dark or Light Pink/Lavender/Red... Ehe... They are my colours... Yellow too, thought!

-

Now It's summer here, soo, I just wear this kind of shorts, but with the colours you know, but I'll repeat: Dark or Light Pink/Lavender/Red...

And I also wear singlets like these, same colours (Dark or Light Pink/Lavender/Red)!

For the HOT SUN I also always have this...

NO WAYYY, 10 IMAGES LIMIT?? THIS IS INSANE!?

Sorry, guys, I'll delete the MLP picture... 🥲

Yeah, I wear this and I probably look dumb and really funny, but It's really useful (yes, I got the idea from that MLP episode)...

And a fan!!! I always bring my fan!!! Oh, and I always bring my rucksack!!! I have to make you see It!!! I'll delete the leggings image... You know how leggings are made, after all, right?

I have to give you an idea of how my rucksack looks like, sorryyy!!

It's similar to this, but It has longer ears and It's more colourful, It had mixed light blue, lavender and light pink... Mine also has a tail and paws... The base colour In the back, which here Is light pink, In mine Is lavender... Also mine has A LOT of keychain... AHHH!! I HAVE 2 MLP KEYCHAINSS!!! 1 Scootaloo and 1 Twilight, they arrived two weeks ago, then an heart carved In wood, two bracelets from the Camping I go on Holiday since I was born: one from last year (ocean blue), and one I'm using this year (Pinkie's mane pink)... Also 2 Scooby-Doos, which are those things with Intertwined threads, I don't know?? I translated this word, Imma be honest here! Also there I have a Marmot small-sized plushie with a tiny bow, a lavender butterfly 🦋 and my school's keychain!! It should be everything... You don't wanna know what's inside, but sure there are plenty sticks... I'll probably use them to make magic wands once I get home, since I need some!! Did I mention I'm Into witchcraft!!!

All the photos are from Pinterest!!!

I got an Ideaaa!! I'll make my own diary on Wattpad, best therapy ever!!! Maybe I'll make some friends too...!! I can't wait!! Even If as a format... I love Tumblr more... But... YOU CAN PUT JUST 10 IMAGES IN A POST??? WHATT??

Anyway, I can't count the words or the anyways like I promised, 'cause I can't copy the Intere text... TvT

I'm so sorry...

This Is probably the end, but see you In my new Journal on Wattpad, I'll probably write about my life here too and I'll register those promised vocals... :))!!

Anyway, I changed my mind... Tumblr Is A LOT better than Wattpad, so I'm gonna use this both as a Journal and to post drawings... Well, still a Journal and this was my Intro :))

[womenofwonder]

RWBY characters races for AUs set in our world.

How I’m going to do this: three things. The first, the city they live in Remnant. This is the least important because that leaves us with only five…maybe six places compared to our world’s hundreds of countries.

The second will be the original of their names, which they’ll have to keep in the AUs, meaning that they need some culture background for them.

The third will be their fairy tale origins.

So to start, Ruby Rose:

She lives in Vale, which is similar to France (I’ll explain why in another post maybe), but technically grew up in patch, a small island off the coast of Vale. I have no idea about Patch’s culture as we hardly ever see it, so I’m going to skip this one. We also don’t know if either Summer or Taiyang was originally from Vale.

We know Taiyang is Chinese from his name, so I’m going to say she’s half Chinese. I also wrote a western au once and really love the idea of Taiyang being an Asian Redneck…so I think I’m going to say Ruby is very, very southern just because that would be adorable.

But if you don’t want that idea I generally see Taiyang being either Asian-American or Asian-French, or Asian-British if your doing a HP AU. Summer is harder to pin down, but Red Riding Hood was originally an Italian fable, so I’m going to have her be Italian or Italian-American.

Weiss:

Weiss is German, although making her simply white America/British would work. I could see her being Russian too in some AU because Atlas fits well as Russia. For American works, Pennsylvania has quite the German population and coal mines, so that works pretty well for her.

Blake is really complicated. From Remment Australia which is culturally SEA (south East Asian), has an English name but parents with a Hindu-inspired names, but neither looking vaguely Indian. I’m going to assume her family are immigrants (as they are in cannon I think) to Australia, maybe even changed their name to help them fit in. Immigrants from where? Well, India is an option, but I like to think Malaysia. They have a large Indian and Chinese population, and I like to think Blake is a mixture of Chinese, Malay, and Indian ethnicities, from Malaysia and immigrated to Australia. And if you think this is crazy or unrealistic, you haven’t seen anything yet. The sheer mix of cultures I’ve seen growing up as an ex-pat is insane. This isn’t too crazy.

For Yang, we already have Taiyang as an Asian red-neck. Or at least I do. Raven and Qrow are going to be a little harder to pin down, but I’m think bandits getting replaced by mafia. Which mafia? I don’t know, take you’re pick. Branwen is Welsh, but I can’t think of a Welsh mafia. Coming from Mistral I would see them as being Triad, not Yakuza because Raven’s gang is famous for being less than coordinated.

If you need a logical reason for Yang having blonde hair, Taiyang could be only half Chinese, half blonde (blonde is race right?).

Either way I see Raven operating in an American city like New York or Detroit.

This would mean Yang is fully Chinese ethnically.

JNPR:

Jaune’s name and inspiration are all French. However his mother does come from Mistral (I think), so I do see him being half Chinese, but nationally French. It’s also funny to imagine him with a French accent.

Pyrrha: she’s Greek or maybe Greek-American with her parents being recent immigrants. Argus seems to Remnent-Greece and her name and fairy tale are greek.

Nora: she should be Scandinavian. I feel like in a MCU AU she’s Thor’s daughter. But she also grew up as a street rat in Mistral, which is hard to fit in our world. Therefore I’m going to have her in America, the great melting pot (and also America seems to be more like Mistral than any other Remnent king with our state system), and she going to ethically Scandinavian but knowing nothing of her culture due to her upbringing.

Ren: obviously Chinese, but I might have him be American-Chinese to fit his story nicely in with Nora’s.

Others:

Coco: we’re all ignoring that she’s based off Coco Channel, so let’s make her a LA girl

Velvet: Australia, because of the accent. Or maybe English because that is her story origin

Fox: he’s difficult, because tribes are pretty rare in modern AUs. But his story could work for various things. He’s one of the few black characters so he could come from practically any African tribe (I’m currently going with Hausa because it’s one of the few I know anything about). His name is based off ‘the fox and the hound’ which is a rare American story, so he could also be from a Native American tribe if you want the AU to be more American-based.

Yatsuhashi: Japanese, this one is thankfully easy.

Sun: Chinese. He comes from a tribe as well, but I can’t think of any nomadic Chinese tribes except the Uyghurs. Making Sun a Uyghur doesn’t make much sense but it will serve to piss off certain people on the internet. And now this is going to be taken down, isn’t it? Oh wait, this is tumbrl. This is anarchy. It won’t. Forgot why I liked this place for a second.

Scarlet: sorry for the rambling there. Anyway, Scarlet is definitely English. “I hope I don’t get sand in my shoes.”

Sage: well, he’s black, but other then that we have nothing to go one. He’s also from Mistral but that doesn’t really work? If Mistral is America as well as China I guess we can make him African American. Or whatever else works best for the AU. He might be Indian too now that I think of it. Or even Maori. Really options are limitless here.

Neptune: Yeah, so probably just American, but does have both a French last name and an Italian first name. So probably ethically American (aka white mutt). Also he lives near a port, I think I’m gonna gone with him being from Tacoma Washington because I am.

Flynt: African American

Neon: Japanese-American because of her meme (it started as part of Japanese pop song on YouTube, the latter of which is America summed up in one invention)

Oscar: Hispanic-American, he just looks it. And I’m guessing he lives in Kansas for obvious reasons. His last name isn’t Hispanic but their could be a lot of reasons for that. Or he could be Native American (Pawnee, Cheyenne, and Osage are all Native American tribes in Kansas).

Penny: well if she’s still a robot she probably stays white, but if you want her human in this AU she might end up being half black as Pietro is, although she also could just be adopted. I guess the later makes more sense, huh? I figure she’s American, with her dad working with a ‘well meaning’ but ultimately corrupt government. Probably living in DC, as that has both the government and the poverty issues.

Emerald: oohh, boy. This is hard. Sustrai is Basque, and Aladdin is a French addition to an Arabian story, she herself is dark skinned with anime features that are super unhelpful for this sorta thing.

I have three ideas. Brazilian, mostly as there’s no South American themed RWBY characters I can think of, and it’s diverse enough that someone looking like Emerald would fit. Secondly, for American centered stories she’s just an orphan with no idea of her ethnicity. Or she could be African, Indian, Pacific Islander, or Hispanic or some mixture between those four. It’s honestly really hard to tell. In my fanfic she’s from Suriname and ethnically 1/4 Indian, 1/2 Creole, and 1/4 Javanese.

Ilia: Sioux (Native American). Ilia means a lot of things in a lot of different languages, and Amitola mean rainbow in Sioux, so I decided to just stick with that.

Mercury: American, white mutt American. I’m guessing New York or Philli for where he grew up, it seems like a place where he’d be comfortable

Neo: the new novel reveals her father lived in vale (btw I haven’t read it, I’m just getting this off the internet) and her mother was a assassin who’s origins aren’t known. She doesn’t really have a fairy tale. So I’m going to go with British or French (thank RWBY thoughts for the first one) although in an American AU she works as just a white American.

Robyn: depends on what Atlas is in this AU, but probably German or American.

Qrow: I already mentioned he’s probably Chinese due to being from Mistral. It’s a bit weird to think of him as Asian, but not as weird as it to think of Raven as white, so I’ll take it. Although I do like the idea of him being American Irish, that’s fun.

Winter: whatever Atlas is in this AU, German or American, although British and Russian would work well too.

Maria: Mexican

Salem: If you want a AU where she’s just a normal person then New England or Italian for her story origin

Watts: British

Tyrian: uh…I have no idea, but he looks white. And he kinda has a British accent? I want him to be southern for the accent tho. Probably just another crazy American

Cinder: her fairy tale is French but her origin is Chinese. Also, Cinderella doesn’t really have an origin, it’s an ancient story with every culture having at least one Cinderella story. So I’m going to say Chinese.

Hazel: American, from the Midwest. He’s darkish so maybe he’s a POC? Part Native American or Hispanic? Idk or really care I can’t stand Hazel

Roman Torchwick: American-Italian, he runs/works for the mafia

Ozpin: American because of the whole wizard-of-Oz-thing or French, because he seems to have come from Vale.

Glynda: American or French for the same reasons Ozpin is

Oobleck: Jewish American (because Dr. Seuss was)

Professor Port: Russian, due to his fairy tale, or English, due to his style

Taiyang: already said he’s a red-neck Asian.

Raven: depending on whether you want her to be white or not, either Chinese or Irish American, like I already said.

Cordovin: Karen

Ironwood: again, depends on Atlas in the AU. Either American or German…maybe Russian

Clover: Irish-American (or German, obviously the ace-ops depend on where Atlas is. I’m just going to do the rest of them assuming Atlas is American because Germany isn’t that diverse)

Harriet: African-American, I guess. It kinda messes with the story because Harriet is supposed to be privileged, which doesn’t really work in this AU, but she’s also obviously black.

Elm: Just normal American, maybe greek-American because of the Aesop fable themes

Vine: Tibetan based on his design

Marrow: either African-American or Pakistani/Indian-American. (I’m personally going for Pakistani)

Klein: english. All butlers are English. It’s a rule.

Pietro: African-American

Johanna: Pakistani or Indian American

Fiona: Jewish-American (kinda random but while she’s obviously white she also needs to be a minority for the Faunus thing to work)

May: normal upper glass American/German

Ghira: Half Malay, Half Indian, from Malaysia but immigrated to Australia later in life

Kali: half Chinese, half Indian, but also from Malaysia

Adam: much like Fiona I’m going to assume he’s Jewish due to him being white but still needing to be a minority. German or American, again, depending on where Atlas is. Or he could be Chinese, even though it doesn’t work with his name, due to the theory that he was trafficked much like Cinder. I’m going with ethically Jewish though

Sienna Khan: Indian

Huh, I actually finished that. I’m pretty sure I was accidentally racist multiple times and apologize in advance,

I’m exhausted and starving and not thinking straight. But anyway, here it is. Your very messy guide to modern RWBY AUs. I swear this was insane to sort out.

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

[Skam Italia] Internal Monologues

So yeah, I was just saying 3 days ago that I didn’t feel like translating Nico’s POV from Italian to English, but today I changed my mind. To @skamsnake​ who wrote the most beautiful collection of pieces from Niccolò’s POV ever, to @crucios​ who makes me love Nico even more every time I read her posts and to @minttobe-treehill​ <3 Credit to @silenzio-assenzio​ for the headcanon, I blame this fic on her ;D

17th Semptember 2018 - 07:59 a.m. This year will be a blast. Yeah, right. This year will be slightly better than the last. Now, that’s more likely. This year we have only to get to the state exams without taking one too many sick days, to keep a high average so that mom can get off my back. We are not here to make friends. Mingling is okay. Preventing classmates from talking behind our back is cool too. Can we get more than that? Should we? We’ll see.

The closer they get to me, the more likely it will be that they start asking about what happened at Virgilio... But I don’t wanna talk about it. I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning, to be honest, but if I knew that if I missed the first day then my parents would start talking about sending me to a private school again.

Okay, Niccolò, let's survive this day. Don’t start worrying about the next.

8th October 2018 - 1:04 p.m. 

I’m so fucking bored. So, so bored. BOOOOOOORED. I can’t take this for 8 more months, I just can’t. The school itself is not that bad... I mean, I’m surrounded by tolerable people - apart from Covitti, who’s being a whiny bitch because he’s not the star student anymore? I don’t know what he’s got against me, really, and I don’t even care - and the teachers are decent enough, but... It’s like there’s no chance to get to know people better aside from those fleeting moments at recess. No opportunity to get rid of those fucking school-work interchange hours, either. No afterschool club in which, by sheer luck, I could run into that beautiful freckled boy. The one who is always surrounded by at least two other friends, who ain’t that bad themselves - especially the one with those baby blue eyes. 

Dream on, Niccolò. Dream on. He must have better stuff do with his time...

... than spend it with the kids from drama club. Which might be awesome, but not the right fit for me. I already play the part of a sane individual everyday, so thanks but no thanks.

"Hey... Hello! Have you ever thought of hosting your own show on the radio? "

No, you never thought about it. Who the fuck is listening that radio, anyway? Nobody. But you’ve got plenty of time to kill and you’re looking for ways to make your days a bit more varied, right? It’s still better than cleaning toilets at McDonalds, isn’t it? Or than listening to Maddi drone on about her day at Uni. To have her remind you that had you followed her advice, had you taken your meds and went to see your therapist when you were supposed to... Then you wouldn’t be stuck at high school for another year.

It’s not she does it on purpose. She doesn’t say it out loud, but you can read between the lines.

When are we gonna dump her, by the way? The 4th of never seems like the perfect day to do just that. Who is gonna listen to us when we are feeling sorry for ourselves, who’s gonna tuck us in when too exhausted to get up? Who has always been there for us, Niccolò? You know who.  Go and break her heart come on. I dare you to.

11th October 2018 - 5:43 p.m.

THERE HE IS HE. IS. HERE. OH FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK.  COME UP WITH A PLAN. DO IT FAST, NICO. YOU’RE GOOD AT THINKING ON YOUR FEET, AIN’T YOU? Okay. First of all: don’t freak out. Then: you shouldn’t look at him, he cannot not know how desperate you’ve been to see him again. Let’s pretend he doesn’t exist and that we can’t feel that he’s staring at us. He doesn’t know that I’m paranoid enough to always think that people have nothing better to do than stare at me.. That I never really got over that intrusive thought, but that I learnt not to let it get to me and tell myself either ‘well, if they’re watching let’s give them a good show’ or ‘let’s bore them to death so they will move on”. I think I’ll go with the second, today. Don’t meet his eyes. Don’t stumble on the chairs, on the desks, and please don’t choke on the cake.  Keep a modicum of dignity, please.

Greet the girls. Analyse with great interest the pattern of your plastic plate. Turn to the blackboard. Good, Nico. You’re doing great. Keep this  cool and mysterious attitude... Let him come to you.

OI. OI. OIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. NO. STOP THERE YOU. NOPE, NOT TALKING TO MYSELF NOW BUT TO THAT NICE GUY WHO STILL HASN’T GOT A NAME. You don’t you expect me to follow you around, do you? Or to sit in a dark room, listening to you fucking around and telling your imaginary audience how to grow weed in their closet. That's exactly why I'll do it. To turn this into something special. Something memorable.

I’m not even sure what this is. I out of my depth when I realize how easy it is to be around this guy, how I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not and put a fake smile on my lips and fill the awkward silences with inane chatter. For once in my life I’m not striving to impress, so I send a little prayer to myself: please, Niccolò, do not fuck everything up as usual by reading too much into this. Let's try to get to know him better. Let’s see if he’s really into you - maybe he’s just curious about the new guy, maybe it’s the first time an older boy talks to him... who knows? - and if there’s something we can work on.

Work on... and then what? There’s still Maddalena. Haven’t forgot about her, have you? No, I haven’t. Now, let’s not get ahear of ourselves. Nobody is daydreaming about making out with this lovely boy - you still do not know what’s his name: how hard can it be to ask, Colino? - on the school terrace. In the bathrooms. On the table, in the radio booth. Nobody is doing that. Nope. No day dreaming going on. At all. Zero. Zilch. Me and him are more than happy to share nothing more than longing looks and a cigarette, today. To forget about the world, for a minute.

And then, of course, the spell is broken. I’m not one to dislike people on principle alone, usually... but she just rubs me the wrong way. Perhaps it’s how comfortable she is with my fellow deserter, how she addresses him as though they have been friends for years... Do you know each other? Are you together? It’s really none of my business. I can tolerate her just because she gives me the opportunity to introduce myself, even if he has yet to do it. But, hey, you could get a clue and fucking understand when people are subtly telling you to get lost, couldn’t you, Emma? You don’t. Well, what could I expect from someone named Covitti, really? 16th October 2018 - 11:55 a.m. Do you wanna smoke? Yeah, why not. Let’s choose a random rendez-vous point to meet our newest ‘friend’ - one of the few you kinda like, in this shitty school - like... the balcony that overlooks IVB. Maybe you’ll get to see Marti. Marti would be Martino Rametta, from what you read on attendance records at the radio club... But you’re free to call him however you like in your head, so yeah, he’s ‘Marti’. Be cool, Niccolò. Walk like you own the place, like you know that you’re the finest guy everyone has ever laid their eyes on. Believe it, and maybe Marti will believe it too when he sees you. He might not, but just in case he might... Well, well... Look who’s there. And guess who has just totally been uncool and hit their teeth with that fucking cigarette, too distracted by a stream of ‘Ain’t I the man of your dreams, Martino? Look at me, come on, look look look LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK!’ playing in their heads, to actually realize what they were doing? It could have been worse, I could have put it up my nose. And I made him smile! I’D CALL THAT A WIN, WOULDN’T YOU? I love to make him smile. Maybe I can ask to come over, someday - tomorrow? the day after tomorrow? it needs to be sooner rather than later, doesn’t it?  - and make him smile even more? Maddalena! Stop acting as if she’s not in the picture, Niccolò! Why don’t you worry about making her smile, instead? She’d lose that ‘woe is me’ attitude she got lately, which is understandable given what you put her through in the last 3 years...  and okay, why don’t you ask her out on Friday? You can go to the movies, have a double date with Matteo and Elisa - you don’t want to go out with her alone, and that should tell you something... shouldn’t it? Yeah... you know what it tells you? It’s: blah blah blah, fuck it all, as the Bard would say - and try to be the boyfriend she deserve, can’t you? Okay, now let's go back to Martino. Who’s been distracted by Sana, and that’s too bad. He’s gonna regret it as soon as he’ll turn to the window again and he won’t find anyone there anymore, for sure.

19th October 2018 -  2:22 p.m. Martino? What are you doing here? I am 100% sure I have never seen you take this bus to go home. And you aren’t following me. I would have noticed if you did. What is he watching on that smartphone? Has he got any texts from Covitti? How can that be more interesting than me?

Minding my own business is overrated, and I’m sick and tired of it. Since you weren’t raised in a barn, Niccolò, you know what you’ve got to do now. Greet him, trying not to get distracted by his eyes or his lips - a difficult but not impossible task - and lean over just enough to get a glimpse of his screen. Or be cheeky enough to blatantly look at it.  Sana. Who isn’t giving him the answer he hoped for, it seems. Maybe I can help?  And you’re giving me the perfect excuse to ask you to come over, aren’t you ,Marti? Of course I’m gonna advantage of it. When will I get another chance to find out what music you listen to, what books you read, to worship the sight of you chilling on my couch and think about how much I would like kneel at your feet and... No. Let's keep those fantasies for us, Nico. Don’t scare him off by going too fast. Let's enjoy this Friday afternoon together. Focus on your heart, so full and yet so light. Beating so heart that you it feels like it could burst out your chest any minute, now. I have never felt this way before, for anyone. Maddalena? Who’s that? 19th October 2018 - 7:30 p.m. Maddalena. Maddalena, yeah. I do remember her. Not that clearly, though. I want to tell Martino about her, but I don’t know how. It’s not like I can say 'Oh, I nearly forgot but there’s this girl I’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s nothing serious, really. Tell me you want me and I’ll dump her ass straight away, I swear.’ out of blue, when I am not even sure he does want me. I mean, I can tell that we’re flirting but am leading him on? Does he actually want this flirting to lead somewhere or we are just teasing each other for the sake of it? If I get up and kiss him, after I got rid of the taste of this shitty pasta  - which I’m still proud of having cooked, because Marti seemed really amazed by my creativity in the kitchen!  - by drinking some beer, can I be 100% sure that Martino won’t get up and leave?  No. So why talk to him about Maddalena? There is no point in doing that. I'll find the right moment to...

Oh. Great. Seems like Maddalena herself found the right moment to show up and be introduced to Marti. Of course. You do rememember you are the one who asked her out, don’t you? No, you don’t because you were too busy trying to get the brightest smiles out of Martino and to feel good about making him feel so relaxed and cheerful. And I know it's a dick move to make out with her like that, right in front of front of his eyes. Without even telling him that I had a girlfriend in the first place... but you know what? 

It’s good that he sees that I’m a shitty person, let’s not have him think otherwise. And let’s see what he’s gonna do next. If he’s gonna walk away for good, or if he’s still gonna be willing to give us a chance. Let’s wait and see. **************************** A/N:  I know it’s quite confusing but I noticed that I never address myself as “I” when I have monologues, I shift between “you” (singular) or “we”, and sometimes I throw in some thought using the “I” as well... So I wanted to Niccolò to do the same ;D They’re not linear and a they are a bit hard to follow, sometimes, I know... they are thoughts, internal monologues as the title says, not really a narration.

[spamanosecretsanta]

Spamono secret Santa for yami

This is my gift to @xherzasx / yami I hope you like it

from @pancakes1173

December 15, ah what a time to be alive, the streets are packed and stores are hell to get through, what with all the Christmas and holiday shoppers, yes a time indeed. Lovino was currently getting ready to leave the police department, where he worked, after all he had a hot date tonight, he knew with all the traffic he would have to leave early. Unfortunately fate had other plans “lovi where are you going?” Roma, his grandfather/police chief asked “I have a date tonight so if you would excuse me” “you have a date! With who, why didn’t you tell me. You guys grown up so fast!” He cooed as he tried to engulf the Italian in a hug, which Lovino couldn’t avoid this time “I’m 23 nono, the tomatoe bastards names Antonio, he just got out of the hospital so we’re going to celebrate” he said as the corners of his mouth began to twitch upwards a bit, barely noticeable to most but Roma knew his grandson was happy. “Hospital? What happened?” “Well it’s a long story” lovino said as he finally managed to wiggle his way out of his Nono’s embrace “how did you two meet?” The old Roman asked as he pulled out a chair “well I stil have time I might as well tell you

*flashback~~~

December 10, It was a normal night in the city, dark and cold but at the same time filled to the brim with life and city light. Antonio ended up being called in late to the office that night, something he hated doing because it meant more time away from his actual writing. Typically for nights like this he would just make his publisher wait until the morning but apparently it was an “emergency”, ‘yah because a misspelling couldn’t have waited till tomorrow’ he thought to him self, he ended up typing a page in Spanish rather than English by accident.

“Ahh, please don’t hurt me” he heard someone scream. He rushed over to the ally were it was coming from and saw a woman holding her child behind her as a man demanded her money at knife point. Antonio didn’t even waste a second and jumped into action, knocking the knife out of the guys hand.

“run! Go to the police!” He told the woman, she ran off still sobbing, mumbling 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 you’s through the sobs and holding her balling child close. While tony was doing this he didn’t see the guy get back up, he didn’t see him grab the knife that was carelessly tossed to the side but most importantly… he didn’t see the knife coming straight for him, until it was too late.

He looked down at the knife now adorning his abdomen and could only watch as a fresh red substance oozed out of the wound. He stumbled back and hit the wall causing him to winced as he slid to the ground. He could feel himself getting light headed and starting to see spots as blood gushed out of the wound. ‘So this is how I die huh?’ He thought to himself grimly. It had probably been about five minutes now he was starting to lose conciseness, the attacker had fled the seen long ago.

Suddenly he heard shouting“your sure it was this way Miss” a mans voice questioned “y-yes I’m sure”

he heard the foot steps getting closer and closer then a gasp. Every thing was going dark now but in his last few moments of conciseness, he could have sworn he saw an angel above him, hazel green eyes, beautiful brown hair and the most adorable, angelic features he’d ever seen on a face, and that was it, the world turned black

Antonio pov

I woke up in a hospital bed IVs stuck in my arms monitoring my heart and stuff. I then feel a sharp pain as I try to shift a bit, “ow” I yelped as I looked down to my abdomen…. wait didn’t I get stabbed, I thought with a slight frown. I heard the door open and the sound of papers shuffling around

“oh! Mr. Carriedo your awake” the person I assumed to be the doctor said with an Italian accent “what happened” I say, still a bit groggy on the whole event

“you were stabbed in the abdomen while trying to stop a mugging, the lady you saved came back with an officer, who luckily, had first response training and was able to save you. You came pretty close to deaths door though, you lost about 2 pints of blood but the knife didn’t go in deep enough to do to any damage to any vital organs” he said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood a bit

“dios mío, I thought I was dead for sure, I could have sworn I saw an angle” I say as the doctor walk over to me and fiddled with the machines off to my side “did they catch the criminal?” I inquired as I looked over to him

“oh yes Lovino, took the guy down after he tried another mugging, he’s in jail now” he said as he turned to fully face me

“lovino?” I look at him curiously “oh yeah, sorry, he’s my brother and the officer that saved you” he said as he wrote something down on his clipboard. Lovino, huh? The name of the angel that saved me “um I wouldn’t suppose you would mind introducing me to him so I can thank him would you?” I asked with a slight plea in my voice

“huh, oh sure, I’m sure fratello wouldn’t mind, by the way my names Feliciano Vargas if you need me just ask one if the nurse’s” He chirped as he walked over to the door “he gets off around 5 so I’ll ask if he’ll come see you then” and with that the small copper haired Italian was gone, I looked to the clock ‘3pm huh? Must have been out for a day or two then.

Lovino pov (Warning lots of cursing, this is Lovino) It’s been two days, two fucking days and I still can’t get that beautiful bastard out of my mind. Maybe I should go visit him today see how he’s doing. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time

“damn, only 3, I still have to deal with these assholes for another 2 hours” I mumbled to my self, I then heard a loud obnoxious sound I had come to know as Alfred “hey Lovino, bro would ya mind taking over my patrol shift, I got this date with a super hot chick” the hamburger bastard shrieked as he burst through my office door

“why the hell would I do that!” I yelled back folding my arms over my chest “come on man, help a dude out, you still have another two hours till ya get of” he pleaded like the worm he is.

“ugh, fine, but only because it beats doing paperwork, also your taking my shift next time” I said as I got out of my seat. About an hour later I get a call over the radio “calling all nearby dispatcher, we have an agressive, possibly armed man, at Madison hospital on 12th street” wait that’s where Feliciano works!

“Oh shit!” I said as I put the pedal to the metal and speed down the street to the hospital, which was luckily only a block away. I burst through the hospital doors, I see Feliciano scurrying down the hall way “fratello!!!” He screeched as he ran towards me, engulfing me in an unwanted hug

“let go feli! Where’s the guy?” I said as I pushed my fratelino of off me “he’s up on the 3rd floor by the recovery rooms” he cried as he pointed in the direction of the elevator. I rush to it and hit the 3rd floor button, after the door opened I pulled my taser out of its holster, just in case, and head down the hallway. I hear muffled shouting and come to the conclusion that it was coming from a few rooms down and decided to check it out. I peak through the small glass window to the room and a man, around 5’9 mid 40s, Black hair, receding hairline and holding a pistol that looked to be 40 caliber, yep matches the description.

Seamed like he was trying to hold the rooms patient hostage but was kinda failing. Anyways, he started get more agressive with said patient, at this point I had burst through the door and tackled the guy to the ground “police. You are under arrest for assault and battery, breaking and entering, trespassing and possession of an illegal firearm, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law” I yelled as I cuffed his hands behind his back

“hey potato bastard I’m going to need you to come pick up this bastard” I said into my radio intercom thing “ok I’m on my vay” the potatoes German accent spoke through the radio.

A few minutes later the potato bastard hauled the guys ass off to jail, I was out in the first floor hall talking with Feliciano “hey did that guy hurt any patients up there?” Oh shit I forgot to check on that guy. I run over to the elevator but to my luck it was in the 8th fucking floor and wasn’t coming down fast enough, I run over the the stairwell and begin the decent up to the third floor. Man I need to do more cardio’ I though as I finally reached the 3rd floor, a bit breathless, and ran over to the room. I burst through the door again, panting a bit this time and there he was… the bastard who’s been occupying my thoughts for the past 2 fucking days.

Antonio pov

It’s him, the angel that saved me, twice now! I stared at him for a good minute until he broke our silence with an angelic voice “Hey are you ok!?” He said having just recovered his breath, I could only nod, I was all to star struck to do anything else

“are you sure you look a bit off” he questioned as he raised an eyebrow, again I just nod “are you mute or something?” He asked as he leaned on the doorway “oh, um no.. it’s just, your…”

“I’m what” he stepped away from the door and walked towards me, and let me just say dios mio the way those hips swing when he walks! I could die happy right now! “Your the gorgeous angle that saved me. Twice now actually!” when I said this he turned 20 shades of red within .05 seconds

“w-want are you talking about bastardo” he mumbled as he attempted to cover the blush spread across his cheeks “your the officer that saved me a few nights ago, I wanted to say thank you for then and just now” I said with a bright smile

“oh yeah, what’s your name?” He asked as he recovered from his flaming cheeks “oh it Antonio, lovi”

“wait how do you know my name?” He exclaimed suspiciously as he stared st me doubtfully “oh well, the doctor told me your name, I think his name was Feliciano” he face palmed and groaned

“of course” he mumbled as he sat down on the cushioned chair next to the bed “so Antonio, mind if I ask you what the hell you were doing out so late at night, the other night” he beseeched as he crossed a leg over the other and rested his elbow, supporting his head, on

“oh well I’m a writer and I might have accidentally typed an entire page in Spanish by mistake, so my éditer called me in, i was just leaving when I heard that woman scream and I just couldn’t leave a nice séniorita like her in trouble like that, to be robbed in an alley like that!” I professed as i emphasized my word with vivid hand gestures

“oh I see, so your a writer what do you write” he said, seemingly intrigued by the topic “well I write stories of passion, of love and life, stories like that”

“So you’re a romance novelist?” He asked “si!” We talked for about a hour after that about our jobs and interests, until the nurse came by and said that visiting hours where over. “Hey, um lovino do you think you could come visit me again tomorrow?” I requested, “sure, it beats doing paper work for that old man” he said nonchalantly as he walked through the door “addio pomodore bastardo (goodbye tomato bastard)” he said from down the hallway.

I sigh and relax into the bed “adiós lovino” I whisper to myself softly. The next day he came around 3ish, we must have talked for hour because once again, the nurse came by to say visiting hours where over.

“Hey lovino, before you leave could I ask you something?” I asked as he stood from his chair to leave, “aren’t you already. Make it quick, the nurse will get pissed if I’m not out of here in the next five minutes” he said as he pointed his thumb out the door

“yeah, sure. But lovino do you think maybe you would want to …um go get some dinner or something when I get released tomorrow afternoon” I asked somewhat shyly, I’m a romance novelist, dios mio you would think I would be better at this. He blushed softly but soon recovered

“I’ll meet you at Marcos restaurant on 5th street, 5 o’clock,” he countered with a smirk, as he walked towards the door, he turned “don’t be late” he added with a wink as he sashayed out the room.

End flashback~~~

And that brings us to now 4 o’clock, December 15 “oh shit” lovino said as he caught sight of the time “what?!” Roma asked worriedly “the dinners at five, it’ll take fucking 15 minuets to get home another 15 to get ready and 45 to get to the restaurant, I’ve got to run!” He responded as he ran out of the room and down the stairs to the first floor, he ran the whole way home which cut off about 5 minuets.

He ran to unlock his apartment door but ended up dropping the keys “fuck” he yelled. Feliciano, who was inside the apartment opened the door at the sound of his brother “fratello what are you doing” he asked “Feli, oh 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 god, no time to explain I have a date I need to be at in 48 minuets and I have 2 to get ready” he said as he pushed past his younger brother.

The green eyed Italian raced to his room and pulled out a nice purple button up shirt and black jeans, he through on the ensemble and scurried to the bathroom to comb his hair and put on a spray of cologne. Just like he came he went like the flash and raced to his motorcycles and speed down the road ‘40 minuets to go’ he thought as he neared a red light, of it wasn’t for all the traffic he could have been there in like 20 minuets but traffic is crazy around that time.

Finally he reached the restaurant, actually he was 2 minuets early. As he walked in he noticed that the restaurant was quite lively, except for a part in the back that was usually open but looked to be sectioned off. “Bonjour lovino, right this way,” Francis, the head chef and manager of the restaurant, said as he walked towards the sectioned off area

“what’s going on wine bastard, aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen doing your job?”

“This is my job, well part of it,” he retorted he opened the sliding door to the room and motioned for him to go in. The room was dark except for the candle light that illuminated it, there was a table with two place settings and standing next to it was “Antonio? What all this” he asked as Antonio motioned for him to sit down across from him

“well mi amore, it’s our first date, so I figured I might as well make it the best you’ve ever had!” He mused as lovino blushed profusely, “also, you said last time that you like pasta so I went a head and ordered some pollo Alfredo pasta, for us” he said with a soft smile

“I can see how your a romance novelist now” he mumbled under his breath. After that the date went quite well they ended up staying till the restaurant closed for the night. The two love birds where walking back to Antonio’s place since it was closer and they may have had a few drinks so lovino didn’t want to drive home, just in case.

“Well this is it” Antonio said as they reached a moderately large, Spanish style, 2 story house “this is where you live?!” Lovino exclaimed while scanning the house “yep, I make some pretty good money off my books” Antonio boasted joyfully, the inside was more modest than the out side and had a few comfy looking sofas and chairs.

They decided to snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie, both of them falling asleep about half way through, both snuggled close together under a warm blanket on one of the overstuffed sofas. Little did they know many more nights would be spent like this, and many more joyous memories would be made in the future both near and far.

Bonus \(^^)/

Antonio had always been a early riser, always up when the sun was, this morning how ever he woke to a surprise laying in his arms. Lovino was laying on Antonio’s chest, on the couch, snuggled under a blanket, just as they were when they fell asleep. ‘Aaawww he looks like an ángulo (angle)’ he thought as he looked down at the smaller Italian in his arms, who began to stir, “Tom.. ato… bastard” he said softly in his sleep Antonio had to hold in a small laugh. He looked over at the clock on the side table next to them; 5:30 it read. He snuggled up against lovino again and decided to sleep in a little bit with him… they didn’t actually wake up till noon due to a Mary go round of on waking up and decided to let the other sleep a bit longer or wanting more time in the others arms.

THE END

[stars-that-shine-at-night]

If the Shoe Fits  Jimin x Reader Ballet! Au

A/n: I decided to take a break from Shimmering Skies and Twinkling Lights. I’ve had this idea for a little bit, especially after reading @frejafc“s Jimin’s series Pas de Deux I recommend it. I tried not to copy it as much as I can. I only wanted the idea of ballerino! Jimin. Here is a bit of a disclaimer actually, I am not a ballerina or a shoe maker, so some stuff may not be the most accurate.

Part 1~

Etre Royale Academy was a ballet school that combined the four arts of French, Russian, Italian, and English ballet. Many hopefuls enter the tough auditions, and only the toughest can make it through. Even if you make it through, the uphill battle of bettering yourself, and making it into a company still exists. 

Park Jimin came from a long line of performers. The Park family always excelled in the art of ballet, every Park ballerina or ballerino always made a lasting impression in the ballet world. Of course, the young Jimin is definitely living up to his family name. He is Etre’s most prized ballerino, the boys wished for his strength and grace, while the girls wanted to be the Odette to his Siegfried.

But behind every dancer a maker supports that dancer. Your family, the (l/n) family is family of fine craftsmen/women. Everyone in your family have made thousands or pointe shoes and ballet slippers for the special ballerinas and ballerinos who fit the unique shoe each (l/n) member makes. Ever since you were little you’ve been surrounded by ballet. The shoes, the shows, the dancers. You were one of the youngest workers entering the force, the moment you sat down, and made your first pair of custom made shoes. Even though you were young, you still had years of experience of shoe making under your belt. 

You remember the first time when the ballerina who owned the first pair of pointe you ever made came to “meet her maker”. She was a young and beautiful, fit, with excellent posture even when she walked. She went from person to person asking to find her maker, not even noticing you, for you were just only twelve years old. You looked and saw that the ballerina was with one of the older makers, and he pointed a thimble covered finger at you in your work station. She walked over to you with the bottoms of her pointe shoes facing up. You saw your symbol imprinted in the soft leather of the shoe. It was a lone dandelion seed, very unusual for a maker, most would use letters or simplified symbols, yours was actually more complex than others. Usual marks were the outlines of the objects, yours was solid and filled in. When you designed your mark, you took great care and quality into making the dye that will be pushed into the leather. 

“Are you the dandelion maker?” She asked in a quiet voice. You looked up from the new pair of shoes you were making for her and nodded. You wanted to be just like her, graceful, beautiful, with neat hair, and pink shoes. 

Over the next couple of years you got more dancers ordering more shoes from you. Your young and precise vision always made sure the size the shoe was always dead on correct, and you never changed a thing in how you made your shoes. From a young age you knew that what makes a maker the great maker is that they do not change anything about the shoe they are ordered to make unless the dancer says so. If you were off my a little bit the dancer can automatically feel it the moment he or she steps into them. You kept profiles on each type of shoe you have to make, and every time there is a little change you take the paper of notes, throw it out and start over. 

You were standing outside of Entre academy, with other makers. A briefcase in of your hands. It was the beginning of the new year and it was when all the makers would sit in a big circle and have dancers that needed find the perfect maker or find a new maker try on shoes. Dancers could also go up to their maker and have them do a quick fix or do small modifications to their shoe.

You were now seventeen, it’s your fifth year at Delladova Ballet. This new year was also going to be interesting. The wave maker just retired, and he was the maker that supplied three Park dancers their shoes: Jimin, his mother, and his father. Jimin would have to find a new maker now. Your family has worked with the Parks before. Your grandparents made Jimin’s grandparents’ shoes. Your mother use to make Park Jueun’s, Jimin’s mother, shoes in her early career. Your mother stopped making shoes so she could raise you and your siblings. Your father also made the finest satin slippers for almost every Park ballerino except for Jimin and his father. 

 You set up your little station in the circle by the shoe room, taking out your sewing kit, different kinds of shoes, fabrics, measuring kits. You strategically sit by the shoe room so you can go inside it quickly if you need to find another pair of shoes you made.

You recognized one of the ballerinas who orders from you. Her name is Seo Yeona, she was eighteen, and she was getting ready to audition for companies. She came up to you with a pristine set of pointe shoes you made. “(Y/n) can you darn these pair for me? I have an audition for the royal ballet, and I want these shoes to be perfect, and you darn them just perfectly for me. I know I can dance my best if you darn them.“ 

You smiled at Yeona and took her shoes “Of course. I will make sure it will be my best, just like the rest.” You said, opening up your sewing kit, you took out your thimble and darning needle. You pulled a good amount of wool out from the bunch you had and cut it off with the rest. You looped the wool through the needle, tied the the wool on to the needle, and started the darning process. You made the first darn stitch, and continued to chain stitch all the way around the platform of the shoe, pulling tightly each time. You consecutively made the same chain stitch making them look almost perfectly the same. Once you reached the end of the platform back at your darn stitch, you the excess wool off and ties the loose ends. You repeated the thing to her second shoe. Both shoes took you less than ten minutes to darn, and the stitches were consistent and not sloppy. Yeona looked happily at her new darned shoes and hugged them to her chest. 

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what to say.” You smiled and looked her in the eye. “You don’t have to say anything, just dance your best in these, and then once you get into the royal ballet, send my a ticket so I can watch one your shows.” You laughed, and with that Yeona was gone. 

 Next was a second year boy. His name was Im Taejoon, he was sixteen. He said he was having difficulties finding a maker. You offered him the stool you were sit on, so he can sit down it and you can quickly measure his foot. You found that his size was really close to another boy, who ordered from you. You pulled out a shoe that was his and slipped it onto Taejoon’s foot, you examined how the shoe conformed to the foot and shook your head. You thought a double sole shoe with tighter elastic would be better. So you pulled out a double sole shoe, snipped off the elastic, and measured new elastic the fit Taejoon’s ankle and over the bridge of his foot. You cut off that piece of elastic, and sewed it onto the shoe with a smaller needle and black thread. 

 "Now, give me a quick pirouette.“ You said, after he put on the new shoes. The boy obeyed and you closely observed the boys feet. Something was off, and you tapped your pencil against your lip to figure it out. 

"How did it feel?” You asked him. “I think it felt fine actually.” He replied. “Go on your toes.” You said, and Taejoon did just that. And you finally saw it. “I got it!” You exclaimed. 

“Hold still do not move.” You pinched together some parts of the canvas together, shrinking the fabric to conform to the boy’s foot some more, and you sewed the shoe shrinking the amount of fabric. “Pirouette one more time.” The boy performed the elegant move perfectly. When he landed he had a wide smile on his face. 

 "These felt amazing. I can tell these are the perfect fit. I want you be my maker.“ You smiled and took the shoe off of the boy, measured it quickly and wrote down his measurements, and what he preferred. 

 "If you need anything, just tell me or put in a order, I am happy to deliver for you. I am the dandelion maker, and at the bottom of every shoe I make you will see the imprint of a single dandelion seed pressed into the sole. That’s how you know I made. When it appears in your pigeon hole that means it is especially made for you.” The boy nodded listening to all of instructions, then ran off with his new shoes to dance with. Every dancer gets excited when they try on the perfect shoe from the perfect maker.

 Out of nowhere, your best friend Son Chaerin tackle hugged you. “I missed you (y/n).” Shrieked as she squeezed the the life out of you. “You saw me the day before yesterday…” You choked out, gasping for air.

 "But that’s a day too long (y/n)ah.“ Chaerin whined leaning onto your back. "Can you let go?” You asked. “I kind of can’t breathe.” Chaerin instantly let you go, making you fall to the ground.

 "Oops sorry (y/n)ah, I forgot you need to breathe sometimes.“ Regaining your composure, you looked and her and asked, 

"What do you need this time.” “Oh yeah, I need to change my shoes again. These don’t work for me anymore. My feet got stronger again.” You rolled your eyes at Chaerin. If this was any other dancer you wouldn’t do this to them, but you have know Chaerin since you were three. Your grandmother made Chaerin’s mother’s shoes, and your mother made Chaerin’s first pointe shoes. They custom made and your mother made sure to make them with the prettiest pink satin that was in the workshop that day. Now you make Chaerin’s shoes, like others she hopes to get into a company and works hard every day. When you work with Chaerin you feel like you can be a bit more relaxed, and more yourself. You noted the new changes in Chaerin’s shoes. 

“I’ll send a new pair over, and we’ll keep tweaking it until we get it right, then I’ll re-do your shoe profile.” You said, handing her back her shoes. “Got it!” She said cheerfully. “Hey (y/n) why don’t we got for barbecue or pizza later?” Chaerin asked. 

 "Aren’t you on a diet?“ You mentioned. Chaerin rolled her eyes. "Does it even matter anymore? Everyone has the same diet, so that means I am the same with everyone else. I’ll be fine.” Chaerin shrugged, she was actually the perfect size for a ballerina, slim, and muscular but not too muscular.

 "Besides if we go out, I’ll just run it off. Especially if I run with you.“ She snickered. "Hey! It’s not my fault I run fast besides, you’re the better athlete. It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with.” You said. Even though you and Charin bicker like an old married couple you still loved her. You always went to her performances and cheered her on. She was there for you when you needed it, and you were there for her when she was in slumps. 

 "Anyways, I gotta go and head off to practice.“ She said. "Oh wait did you hear that Park Jimin is looking for a new maker?! That could be you (y/n)!” Chaerin squealed. “He’s so hot, I wish I could be his partner. Oh what would I give to just have one pas de deux dance with him, it doesn’t have to be a performance, just a dance and I’ll be satisfied.” She swooned. 

 "Yah, don’t you think you’re cheating on Hoseok a little bit?“ Hoseok and Chaerin weren’t actually dating. They’ve been partners for the last seven years and they complimented each other well. They were so energetic, they could pull off the most tiring choreographies , and Hoseok was strong enough to life Chaerin. They were just two dorks together though. They would call each other "wifey” or “hubby” just for shits and giggles. Chaerin lifted a finger to her lips.

“Don’t tell Hoseok, he doesn’t need to know.” And Chaerin ran off finally to get to practice. You sat on your stool and took measures of different students feet, some didn’t like your shoes, and that’s okay. A maker is not supposed to make everyone’s shoes. Every dancer has a different foot, and a certain maker, can make that specific shoe.  

You waved off another first year girl who tried on her first pointe shoes with you. She was a young girl of fourteen, Choi Hanbyul. “Look forward to working with you as your maker, if you need me I will be at factory, and on Friday’s I help mister Chanu in the shoe room.” The girl nodded and left. The next person who came after the girl, was the last person you ever expected to see….Park Jimin. He was the usual apparel of boy dancer. Black tights that was a stream line fit to his muscular legs, and a white t-shirt, tucked into the tights, creating an overall clean look.

“So you’re the dandelion maker…”  You just nodded. The boy tilted his head a bit, most makers were older, they had to study the art of shoe making for a long time in school, and then be a apprentice. You did all that too, from the moment when you were born to when you were twelve, you watched your mom and dad make shoes, and other relatives make shoes. 

“Aen’t you too young to be a shoe maker?” You slightly frowned at the question, you were always shot that question whenever people first meet you. 

“Well I must be at some degrees okay, I’ve been coming here and helping dancers fit into their dream shoes for five years now. Inn’t that longer than your years here?” You knew Jimin entered this school as fourteen years old, and he is now your age. Jimin’s faced darkened, and he leaned down into a squat to meet your face. 

“For an artist in this mature and respective field you sure do have a fresh mouth.” He said harshly. If anything, you really wanted to deck him in his perfect face, but you cannot do that, or the other ballerinas will jump you for that. Also the school would be livid if their main dancer had a humongous bruise on his face, and not to mention what your parents would say. You kept your temptation at bay, while you continued to talk to dancer. 

“So did you want to try on the shoes I make?” You asked. “Or do you want to keep wasting my time?” You mentally cursed yourself the moment your last sentence left your mouth, why couldn’t just keep your mouth shut. You never did this any other dancer, but other dancers didn’t give you a hard time like this. 

“Maybe you’re just too immature for this work.” Jimin said. You decided to not fight back anymore, and pulled out your measuring tape to measure his feet. overall his sole was two hundred and sixty-five millimeters, and continued to measure other parts of his foot. You took a shoe that was the same measure as his sole, cut the elastic off, and measured it over the the bridge of his foot, and crossed it over into the nice, classical ‘X’ the crossed over each dancer’s foot in a slipper. You cut the elastic off, and sewed it to the slipper, and had Jimin try it on. He walked a couple of steps in them, did a pirouette and a tour en l’air. 

“What do you think?” You asked the moment he landed. 

“They’re pretty good, might take a little getting use to though. I guess Master Daejung was right. Your shoes are pretty close to wave maker’s. Which maker are you?” He asked looking at you. 

“I’m the dandelion maker. You know the shoe is mine, if there is a lone dandelion seed on the shoe.” Jimin nodded. 

“I’ll have my measurements sent to you.” You gave him a disapproving look when he mentioned that he was going to send his previous measurements for you. 

“Why would you do that? If I am your new maker I rather take your measurements myself. I trust the wave maker was excellent in making your shoes, but I never trust anyone’s measurements unless I take it.” You explained. If a dance were to have a new maker, the new maker always creates a new profile for a dancer, to ensure nothing goes wrong and everything stays consistent. 

Jimin sighed, the breath from his sigh lifted his bangs up from his skin a bit. “Fine when do you want me to come in?”

“Tomorrow at Delladova after lunch. I’ll be there, and I will take your measurements, and take notes on specific designs you need and want.” You said.

“So it’s official you’re my new maker now.” You nodded in response. You and Jimin were no locked in this metaphorical dance that exists between dancers and makers.  

[crowblackbird]

The City of Beautiful Liars: Part 2. The Life and Times of Louie Caldo.

My name is Louie Caldo, Italian by origin, I even grew up there, until my last year of high school. I liked being the cool guy with the cool accent, I couldn’t help it. I was learning to speak English in my last year of school in Amerikka. I knew Bon Jovi’s real Italian name, and I knew how to say it, it drove the girl’s nuts. Needless to say, I got a lot of girls that year. All the guys were jealous. They wanted to know which one was the easiest. I said no one was easy, we just talked, held other, kissed, we made love. When we were done, we promised to love each other forever. The guys all got lost in thought, but the hardest part I said, was saying good bye and good night.

Just thinking of this makes me wanna dance. I float back in time, we lived in the beautiful ancient part of Trastevera, the original slum area of ancient Rome, Italy. One day, my Dad got a job in the late 80’s as a software engineer. Was a good time for us, we had money. My Dad developed, some of the early laptops(which were never sold!). We all still live here, Amerikkka is our home. I also married a beautiful Amerikkkan Indian woman, she came with a small child a turning three: girl. It took a long time for that little angel to like me, at least I think it did. Even now, as we are separated, I wonder if the little 11 year old girl misses me, or ever wishes dearly that I was there.

Those past times, when we said, “good night, I love you.” I would then say in my typical Dad humor, dream of blue turtles. “Blue turtles?”

“Yeah, it’s an album by STING. Dream of Blues Turtles, or purple ones or pink ones.

She would laugh, and say, “good night.”

I will never know if that little girl thinks of me, I want to know. If I had a chance I would hold that little girl, along with her Mom. So close. I would tell them both, I am so sorry I left. Daddy needs you, you two wonderful girls are a part of Louie’s heart. I know we would hold each other so tight, and maybe even cry. I know I would. I fear I am too weak of a man. I wasn’t strong enough to stay, I wasn’t strong enough to fight the same desires my parents had: the urge to go. Ya, you guessed it. They eventually did separate. They both claim to be living happy separate lives. Maybe this is what will be with my wife and I, in the future.. Maybe she and the little girl are both living this happy separate life without me.

There’s me like a sick Husband, lying in bed, calling on his wife to care for him. She loves to cater, he tells her she doesn’t have to. She, like a faithful person, says she loves him, so it is no problem. What would I do without you, he says. Prolly die, she grins back. He laughs, knowing why he fell in love with her. Her grin and her sense of humor with him, towards him. He could be in a room full of people and all he heard was her. It has happened several times.

Instead with me and my wife, it was tense. I never knew if she was bored, or having a good time. There were a few times, he admitted, he saw he looking over at him. They would exchange a smile, it was a type of love making. He really did enjoy that, when they got home, the sex was different. It was more tender, he forgot about what we doing and was taken back to the party they had attended. He saw her in my mind, what she was wearing, and they way in which she held herself, as she spoke to that other woman.

She said he ogled women, fuck that shit! He was just surprised those other women didn’t look as good as his. He was disgusted in all the other women. Only she mattered to him. Then he would thrust, and she would moan, “oh you are so deep.”

This would always bring him back to the moment. Louie remembered a few nights, when they were going at it hard and sweaty. He said, “I love you my beautiful wife.” She said, “I love you my wonderful husband.”

Louie calls The Beautiful City Help-Line: She always claimed I was flirting with other women, in a way I guess I was. She told me to lose contact with them, but I didn’t. I didn’t believe a few words of hello would turn into such arguments just between the two of us. I was being lazy and noncommittal. This is why I came to The City of Beautiful Liars. I needed to see something, I don’t know what it is. But, I feel like I have seen a glimpse. It’s like looking in the mirror, I see some loneliness. There are a lot of lonely single people in this world. They walk down the snow covered sidewalks, they think to themselves continually. They need the commotion, the other. The other is not inside the house when they enter, they keep talking, keep walking. Once inside, they talk to the cat, the dog, the pets, or they turn on the radio. The radio helps, it all helps. It gives them, us, me, a chance to relax, sum up the day. Breathe it out. Give ourselves a chance to be home, at home, where we are home alone and can do something for ourselves. For me, it’s writing. I write so much since I have been alone, that I spend the day with my characters. I even had to tell myself that they won’t be there, when I am at work. Only you, Louie Caldo and only you Louie Caldo will be there. Don’t forget that, you can be you.

Truth be told, since I am the only one here who knows me. I have come here to The Beautiful City to drink myself to death. I know my heart is weak, and I don’t have a vision anymore; like the good book says: without a vision the people perish. I plan on perishing here in The City of Beautiful Liars. Instead right now, I wanna play some Bon Jovi, we related to this band, we both grew up to this. We laughed as we both mentioned that we both slow-danced to Don’t Cry by Guns n’ Roses. I said, the girl I danced with said that guy over there, he wants to fight you because I am dancing with you. I looked over and I didn’t want to fight him. I let her go a little, she said don’t do that. Hold me she whispered. Hold me like he would hold me. I obeyed. Just now, I drive myself crazy with the thought she might be thinking the same thing. I can’t imagine another man embracing her, I can’t imagine her return embrace. Holding him, like she would held me.

I am Louie Caldo and I am falling in love with death. I have come here to die without her. I am sorry that she doesn’t love me anymore, and I am sorry she no longer considers me to be her husband.

Cracking open another beer, I’ve already been on a four month fast. I don’t eat, I don’t need to eat, I don’t want to eat. I am skin and bones. I know I am dying already, sometimes there’s a sudden pierce to my heart, and I refuse to stop smoking. Yeah I should be on the TV show, The Pity Party. I laughed just now. Thinking of her in the crowd, she wouldn’t be in the crowd. She would refuse the invite, just like when she sent all my letters back to me. To be honest, thought Louie, I was hurt so much. But, he encouraged himself with the content of the letters. His heart-felt words were summoned from deep inside of himself. He meant every word. Also, by the return of the letters, he knew she still loved him. Some part of you loves me, Louie said out loud, some part of you aches for me. Maybe it’s my feet touching your feet, in bed. Lpouie held himself.

Whoa, where did I just go there? Sorry, I digressed. Says Louie.

I was telling you I was lonely. I am lonely. I always thought my parents were lonely, but cool. They would come home, I split-stayed. Dad: Thursday to Sun. Mom: Sunday to Wednesday. The funny thing, this was normal for me. I had the best of both worlds, they gave themselves to me utterly. I never felt alone. But, here I am now, utterly alone.

I am Louie Caldo, and I am utterly alone. On the night stand, is a name tag. On the name tag, it states: Hi, My Name is Love Proof Heart. Every single hotel room in this city has a name. I wonder what the other names are, I should go out and seek them. Maybe I can write about it, it would be my last ever article. Oh yeah, she always liked my words, she liked my writing. But, I can’t be with you. To me, this always meant that she had another. Maybe she just needed to go there, to say that. She needed the space to learn not to love me. It wasn’t about another man. She would always cry to me, let another man love me like I need to be loved. I always thought, why another man? I am here.

Say it, “my name is Love Proof Heart,” says the instructions on The City of Beautiful Liars visitor manual. Too be honest it felt good. I felt like this was me, I was Love Proof Heart. I am Love Proof Heart. I checked my email, no more messages from her. I remembered in the past I copied and pasted, I mean wrote her a letter. I asked her not to tell me what a terrible man I was, I couldn’t stand it anymore. This part was copied and pasted.

Funny, in a way. I just thought, I have been playing by the rules of a game, the game always goes to the house. Instead, I was hoping I could take the house this time.

I lost to the house.

I want to be the other man, that can love her. I know I could do it now. Right now, I hate that thought, because at the moment, she is likely not even thinking of me. I know it, because she hasn’t even written me another email.

She asked once, in an email. How can a person always make the same mistake? I had no words. I had no idea, except that maybe she never asked him sooner. When we were together, we could have figured that out.

Instead, I think. Only you Louie Caldo are here. Here alone. Only you, say it: I am Love Proof Heart.

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